Memoirs Of the Reign of King George the Third

Appearance of “An Address to the Public on a late Dismission.”—Walpole’s Answer to that Pamphlet.—Dr. Lloyd, Dean of Norwich.—Charles Townshend’s “Defence of the Minority in the House of Commons on the Question relative to General Warrants.”—Death of the Earl of Bath.—The Chevalier d’Eon.—The Count d’Estaign.—Death of Mr. Legge.—Of the Duke of Devonshire.—Outlawry of Wilkes and Death of Churchill.

While the factions at Court thus held one another at bay, Lord Holland was endeavouring to persuade Lord Bute to take again an office of business. But the rash fit, like the small-pox, never seized him but once. He chose to insinuate opinion of his power, rather than to display it. Nor, though the Favourite professed that Lord Holland was the only man who never deceived him, could I on the nicest inspection ever discover that Lord Holland had any real weight with him; whether it was owing to Lord Bute’s want of courage, or want of confidence in the adviser.

Though I saw clouds enough to comfort me with the prospect of a storm, yet, there being no open hostilities commenced, it was difficult for me to unravel the windings and turnings of so many minds, who were all my enemies. Though I was disposed to widen any breach that might happen, by inclining our force to one side or the other, yet it was not prudent to slacken our measures against the united body. Temporizing too far might cool the zeal of our friends; and the distance of six or seven months to the meeting of Parliament might wear out the memory of Mr. Conway’s wrongs, as the Ministry had intended it should, they having forborne to dismiss him till the session was over. The public cause, as well as private injury, called for spirit. The higher we could raise the flame of Opposition, the sounder benefit we conferred on our country. Prerogative was the object of the Court; and corruption so flagrant in both Houses of Parliament, that, if the people were not animated enough to hold both in check, no resource would be left but a civil war. Early opposition was the only preservative against the latter. My nature shuddered at the thoughts of blood, and I felt what every good man will feel in civil commotions, that there is nothing so difficult as to make the people go far enough, and prevent their going too far. An opportunity presented itself that shewed me what I could have done, but, thank God! I was not so culpable as to embrace it. As one of my objects was to raise the characters and popularity of our party, I had inserted a paragraph in the newspapers observing that the abolition of vails to servants had been set on foot by the Duke of Bedford, and had been opposed and not complied with by the Duke of Devonshire and family of Cavendish. Soon after, a riot happened at Ranelagh, in which the footmen mobbed and ill-treated some gentlemen who had been active in that reformation. I was apprehensive lest any personal mischief should happen to the Duke of Bedford, and forbore to spirit up that contest, though I desired so much to make the Ministers both odious and ridiculous. To the first, indeed, their characters were open: but the worse they were, the more difficult it was to make them ridiculous. They were so profligate, that they were the first to laugh and the last to feel. It was more my business, too, to incense the people than to divert them. Our party was more popular than fashionable; and in a very corrupt age fashion is very formidable. Nor was this all the difficulty: I wished to secure liberty, and to revenge my friend without passing the bounds allowed against public enemies. My friends were timid, or cautious, or over-candid; and I experienced what I have said before, that a country will never be saved by the best men in it. Ours had been rescued by two of the worst—Lord Temple and Wilkes. I had little but my pen to carry on the cause with; and I knew any violence would not be more disrelished by my enemies than by friends. Half our party was likely to desert us; and the other half not likely to support me. When a man is borne up by party, abuse little affects him; but I did not choose to encounter it when I might be left to stand the fire alone. I had seen the fate of Wilkes, abandoned by all he had served; and had no mind to accompany him in his exile. Still, my honour and my pride would not suffer me to sit patient under the insults offered both to Mr. Conway and myself. I determined to vindicate his character and assert my own independence in a manner that should do credit to both; and I succeeded, happily, by observing at once so much firmness and decency, that while I held him up as a perfect character, I secured my own as a faithful and undaunted friend. The opportunity was offered to me by a most shameless and illiberal attack made on him officiously by the agents of the Ministry in a thing called “An Address to the Public on a late Dismission.” This I answered in a Counter-Address.1 It was replied to by the first author, one Guthrie, in a style at once so gross and tedious, that if any man could have patience to read it, I should desire he would form his idea of that Ministry from that production. The only sentence worth refuting was my being charged with having flattered and been obliged to George Grenville. I, who had never stooped to comply with Lord Holland while connected with him; who had set at defiance the power of the Pelhams; had not bowed to the plenitude of Lord Bute’s power, nor courted even Mr. Pitt when I admired him most in the zenith of credit and victory; was not likely to have bent the knee to the prater Grenville, with whom I had broken almost as soon as he had any power at all. Let that imputation answer itself!—But I was obliged to him, said the pamphlet—hear in what manner. Almost every friend or dependent I ever had could witness my refusals of soliciting Ministers for them or for myself. But when Grenville was Treasurer of the Navy, I had, at the desire of one of my voters at Lynn, desired him to get a child into the academy at Greenwich, which he granted. Another time, for I will be rigorously sincere in stating my obligations to him, I had heard that American officers were to repair thither, or forfeit their places. My deputy, who enjoyed a sinecure in Philadelphia (I think it was), came to me in a fright, and begged I would intercede for his being excused, as he was in a deplorable state of health, which terminated in less than two years in his being bed-ridden, or seldom able to stir out of bed. Still, I would not ask his being excused, but wrote to Mr. Grenville to beg that if no fault was alleged against my deputy, and the order was not general, he might not be laid under the cruel necessity of throwing up his employment. Mr. Grenville civilly answered, that he knew of no such order or intention; that he would inquire into it, and no particular hardship should be laid on the person I interceded for. I have preserved his letter; and have thus stated my obligations. Whether they were so mighty that they ought to have balanced in my mind Mr. Conway’s ruin, the world will judge; or, if I forgot them, I must own I had not so accurate a memory as that minute Minister. The pamphlet, however, being enriched with this anecdote of my obligations, must have been directed by Grenville himself—and it was tedious enough to have been written by him too.

This was not the only instance of Grenville’s borrowing scraps of reputation by the hands of his dependents. I have some tracts corrected by himself. The writers, as they were communicated to me in confidence by the authors, I will not name. There was another scribe who laboured hard in extolling his patron. This was Dr. Lloyd, tutor to Mr. Grenville’s sons, and promoted by him to the Deanery of Norwich.2 This Zany published a most fulsome panegyric on him, addressed to himself, crying him up as the first financier in Europe, and obliquely insinuating his enmity to Lord Bute. When Grenville was attacked in the preceding winter in a celebrated tract called the Budget,3 written by Mr. Hartley,4 and exposing the blunders, and fallacies, and triflingness of his system, Grenville inveighed bitterly in the House of Commons against such liberties, and protested he had never been concerned in any libels. I sat and heard these solemn falsehoods; having, I protest, seen Mrs. Grenville take out of her bureau and deliver to the author in my presence a rancorous pamphlet, written against Lord Temple and Mr. Pitt, corrected by Mr. Grenville’s own hand,5 and published immediately afterwards. This confidence I would not abuse.

There came out, not long after my pamphlet, another piece that was to have made much noise. It was called “A Defence of the Minority in the House of Commons on the Question relating to General Warrants;” and had no meaner an author than Charles Townshend. His prodigious parts must not be judged of by this, or indeed by any of his few writings. He never was an author in proportion to his abilities. His thoughts flowed in too rapidly to give him time to digest them; nor was he ever enough in earnest about anything to consider it deliberately. This piece had poor success; and was confuted by some able retainer, if not by some able member of the Administration. Townshend was hurt by this miscarriage; and as he was, though so superior to rivals, infinitely jealous, he could not avoid conceiving a little spleen against me, though posterity may take my word, ay, and my vanity’s word, that I never felt myself so little as the moment he opened his mouth. I do not know whether they would own it with equal frankness, but many men greatly excelling me in talents, ought to have shrunk, too, into themselves, and felt their own futility when Charles Townshend was present. Yet such alloy did he bear about him to those marvellous parts, that children and women had more discretion and fewer weaknesses. Being hurt at the success of my Counter-Address, he wrote these very words to Mr. Conway: “The touches and re-touches on your character are fine; some strokes nobly free; but in general not what I expected. So Charles Yorke and others of our friends think.” Then, speaking of his own pamphlet, he added, “Mr. Pitt says it has had prodigious effect, and turned many. Grenville says it is serious, of great weight, and very hostile.” At that very instant Mr. Conway and I happened to know that Mr. Pitt declared he would not read it; and having afterwards read it, said he found it very inaccurate. There was the same want of truth in affirming that Grenville called it very hostile. Townshend was afraid his friends should perceive how far it was from being offensive.6

It must not be supposed that I would pass off these trifling anecdotes of myself and others for a history of England. But they contain that most useful part of all history, a picture of human minds. They shew how little men are, though riding at what is called the Top of the World. These and the following scenes were what filled me with disgust, and made me quit that splendid theatre of pitiful passions; not from having been too good for my company, but ashamed of being one of such Dramatis Personæ: and so far more inexcusable than the rest, that neither ambition nor interest had led me behind the curtain—perhaps if they had, I should have remained there still.

I have mentioned my surprise at the coldness of Lord Temple. What was become of that unwearied alacrity with which he used to unbosom all his factious soul on every man that was ill-used or discontented? Whatever his views were, they were not ripe: and therefore, to retain a party, or the appearance of it, he gave a great dinner to the Opposition. I was of it; and after dinner took occasion to explain the threats and arbitrary language tried upon Mr. Conway, and scorned by him. I forbore to name Grenville, but painted him plainly enough to fill the company with surprise and indignation. As the company was promiscuous, the discourse was circulated about the town, and reached Mr. Grenville’s ears. On the 1st of June I received a letter from Mr. Thomas Pitt, desiring me to contradict a report said to come from me, charging Mr. Grenville with having said that if Mr. Conway voted according to his conscience he must be turned out. Thus had they dressed up the real report and substance in absurd terms that nobody might believe it. I immediately comprehended that this was a mandate issued to me as an inferior officer of the Exchequer, to justify Grenville and sacrifice my friend. I perceived, too, the advantage they had put into my hands, and determined to make the most of it. Pitt’s letter was so incredibly weak, and owned so much, that nothing was easier than to confute it. To add to their confusion, I had preserved exact minutes of the two conversations with Pitt and Grenville, of which they had had no suspicion. I felt the opportunity of doing justice both to Mr. Conway and to myself; and of making Mr. Grenville understand, that if he did not do me justice in the regularity of my payments, he was at my mercy, and must expect those letters would be laid before the public, if not before the House of Commons. This I hinted obscurely, being determined that nothing but persecution should drive me to that step. Knowing, however, the narrowness of Grenville’s mind, it was useful to curb him by this menace, as I did too in the Counter-Address, and very successfully. I wrote a long, firm, and unpleasant letter in answer to Pitt’s, and received another from him before there could be time for it (as he was in Cornwall), but by Grenville’s opening mine at the post: for with him was it concerted; and yet so flimsy, so fallen from the arrogance of the former was their reply, that I enjoyed not only triumph, but, I own, the teazing amusement of keeping them in hot water many months—the only use I allowed myself to make of those letters in punishing their culpable behaviour—moderate revenge enough after such insolence! and in which, when I had suffered the period to elapse, Grenville was far from having the generosity to imitate me. My payments were carefully made before the Parliament opened. When I had let the Session pass over without making use of the materials in my hands, an embargo was laid on the income of my employment. Have I been unjust in saying that almost any steps that are lawfully taken against banditti, were justifiable against such men? But I found means to retaliate, without violating the strictest laws of honour: nor have they been able to reproach me, though I had such opportunities of resembling them. Happily, I shall not have occasion to say more of myself for many pages, for though I slept not, the Opposition did.

Mechell, the King of Prussia’s minister, was recalled. That Prince had formerly desired Sir Charles Hanbury Williams might be recalled by us, without assigning reasons for that request. He was now reminded of that transaction, and called upon to satisfy us in the same manner. An epigram in politics very consonant to the genius of Sandwich, who loved to strike a stroke, and never allowed for the bad consequences it might have.

About the same time our merchants printed a memorial in the newspapers, complaining of their not being permitted to cut logwood; an ill appearance after a peace so favourable to them, and so recent. The Ministers published in the Gazette the King of Spain’s denial of knowing anything of that refusal, yet was not the Spanish Governor punished or recalled: and ere this matter was cold, Monsieur de Guerchy presented a memorial, demanding restitution of effects appertaining to the Duchy of Bretagne, that had been plundered from Belleisle. The Ministers referred the matter to General Hodgson,7 who replied, “he had been ordered to take Belleisle, and had taken it: he knew nothing farther.”

On July 8th died William Pulteney, Earl of Bath,8 little considered, though immensely rich; for it was known that he would neither part with his money to do good or harm. He left his vast wealth to an old brother whom he despised, and a few legacies to ancient domestics; but so sparingly, that it was plain he thought the smallest sum a valuable present.

On the 10th came on the trial of the Chevalier d’Eon. He had asked for farther time to assemble witnesses, but being refused, made no defence; and absconding, was found guilty. He remained in England, and often in London, undisturbed and unnoticed.9 The printers of the “North Briton” were likewise found guilty. Lord Mansfield reprimanded Sergeant Glynn, counsel for the prisoners, for telling the jury that they were judges both of law and fact; the former of which, the Chief Justice denied, and said, if it was controverted he would take the opinion of the Judges thereon—a resource he was fond of applying to, when he could not alone support his own arbitrary assertions. He and the Ministers now finding themselves almost irresistible, pursued their blow. Two hundred informations were filed against printers: a larger number than had been prosecuted in the whole thirty-three years of the last reign!

On the 15th of the following month, came advice of Tortuga, or Turks’ Island, being seized by Count d’Estain. This man had been twice taken prisoner by us in the last war, and both times had forfeited his parole of honour; yet with a laudable clemency had been spared.10 France had rewarded him with the Order of the Holy Ghost; and he now commanded a squadron in the West Indies, with which he committed this new hostility and infraction of the peace. I saw the importance of the moment, and endeavoured to spirit up addresses against the peace-makers; but languor prevailed, and none of our great Lords could be brought to send directions to their agents for transfusing indignation through their counties. In the meantime the Ministers made representations at Versailles, which, however, despairing of redress, they did not dare to announce in the Gazette till an answer came disavowing D’Estain, and promising to restore the island and pay damages; yet with no mark of displeasure towards their own commander, who, it was not doubted, had acted by direction, both to keep down our stocks, and in revenge for some vessels, which one of our captains had burned at Newfoundland, where they had encroached. The man justified himself by his general orders; nor did the Ministers, though they privately reprimanded him for his zeal, dare to break him; but fearing farther hostilities, four men-of-war were ordered to Newfoundland.

Mr. Legge, after languishing some months, died August 23rd. A blow considerable to our party, as he was the only man in it proper, on a change, to have been placed at the head of the House of Commons. His abilities were known and respected; his timidity and time-serving had not been much remarked, but by the few he had been most conversant with; for, being supple and cheerful and never offensive, he had always seemed to loiter behind his party, rather than to desert it. He met death with more manliness and unconcern than could have been expected, as he was not old, was happy, rich, and above the affectation of heroism or philosophy. An old friend visiting him the day before he died, Legge said to him, “Brother sportsman, I used to laugh at your being too heavy for a chase, but now you are come in at the death.” It was not equally sensible and unaffected, that he sent to Mr. Pitt, to acquaint him with his own approaching dissolution, and to exhort him to do his utmost to remove the present Ministers. Legge ought to have known how little Pitt would regard the death-bed admonition of a man for whom living he had little veneration. Legge left behind him, with orders for publication, a relation of his quarrel with Lord Bute, relating to an election for Hampshire. This piece neither hurt the Favourite, nor reflected honour on the deceased. That the former should have meddled in an election, even before his master’s accession to the Crown, could not surprise nor seriously shock any man: nor, though the narrative was not to appear till after his death, had Legge worked it up with a spirit to do himself honour. His obsequiousness pierced through the veil of hostility, and everybody saw that, without other views, he would not have encountered a rising Minister; nor by Legge’s own account, had the Favourite mitigated the scorn with which he treated him. I have said that Lord Bath loved money so much, that he thought a paltry sum, though given after his death, considerable bounty: it was much the same with Legge, he was so naturally compliant and inoffensive, that his daring to order the publication of a tame and posthumous satire seemed to him an effort of prodigious vengeance.11

If the Ministers exerted little spirit against our neighbours, it was feared, on the other hand, that there were hostile views in the disposal of military commands at home. In fact, the Scotch obtained commissions every day: if by Lord Bute’s influence, I rather think it was meant for a defensive guard for himself and the Court, than with views offensive to the Constitution. Depending on favour and promotion, the Scotch themselves might have crowded into the army. Still it spread jealousy and alarm; and Mr. Pitt himself expressed dissatisfaction. These murmurs were largely increased by the elevation of one Colonel Fletcher to an old regiment over thirty-seven officers his seniors, among whom was Colonel Howe,12 brother of the Lord of that name, and himself lately returned with glory from the Havannah. As Fletcher was devoted to the Favourite, and known to owe this promotion to him, the partiality was the more grievously resented. To compensate for this step, the next regiment that fell was bestowed on Sir William Boothby,13 but not without the secondary view of gaining this officer, who was a servant of the Duke of York.14 That Prince returning from Italy passed to Paris; on which the King stopped his remittances, and obliged him to come home without delay. Grenville, who had taken umbrage at Lord Bute’s interfering in the disposal of military preferments, procured Sir William Boothby’s former regiment for Colonel Pearson.

To give the finishing blow to the hopes and credit of the Opposition, the Duke of Devonshire,15 who had gone to Spa at the end of August for a paralytic disorder, died there in the vigour of his age. He was by no means an able or enterprising man, but enjoyed a character uncommonly respected; and was universally regretted by all the Whigs as head of their party. No man would have disputed that pre-eminence with him; and we wanted even a nominal head. We had in the space of a few months lost three material men,—Lord Hardwicke, Mr. Legge and the Duke of Devonshire. It was almost as unfortunate that we had kept Charles Yorke, Charles Townshend, and the Duke of Newcastle. The health of the Duke of Cumberland made his life as little to be depended on. At this very time he had two slight fits at Newmarket, and was reported dead; but was saved by the breaking out of St. Antony’s fire. The Duke of Devonshire bequeathed 5000l. to Mr. Conway; a legacy honourable to him, and conducive to his popularity. The nominal post of High Treasurer of Ireland being vacated by the death of that Duke, Lord Sandwich begged it for Lord Corke,16 (who had married his niece, and from whose family it had passed to the Cavendishes by the marriage of the late Duke with the heiress of Boyle,17) but on supposition only that the new Duke would not ask it. “How shall we know,” said the King, “if his uncles will ask it for him?” Lord Sandwich said he could find out by his old fellow-traveller Lord Besborough,18 who had married the late Duke’s sister. Lord Besborough, on the question being put to him by Sandwich as from himself, said laughing, “My Lord, is this to be a retainer?” “Why, to be sure,” replied Sandwich; “it will be expected that the family should not act as they have done.” The young Duke was but sixteen, was awkward, and full of the bashfulness of his race. He was entirely in the hands of his three uncles, the Lords George, Frederick, and John, all warm Whigs, enthusiasts to the memory of their father and brother, of characters eminently unstained, and not a little persuaded that their family was, and ought to be, the most distinguished in the kingdom. Their property was enormous, their credit great, and reputation truly honourable: but the talents of the race had never borne any proportion to their other advantages. The first Duke, besides being the finest gentleman of the age, had succeeded to the merits of his friend Lord Russel’s martyrdom. Since that period the family had affected to drop all polish, and to wear the manners of plain English gentlemen, under an outside that covered considerable pride. Sir Robert Walpole had made advantage of their popularity, and having strongly attached the second and third Dukes to himself, he had placed them before himself as the leaders of the Whig party, and cried up their unembellished good sense, though the second Duke had no sense at all,19 and the third a very dubious portion.20 William, the fourth and late Duke, with something more of the manners of a Court, had less abilities than his father. His brother Lord George21 had none at all. Lord Frederick was lively, and having lived in Courts and Camps, a favourite of the Duke of Cumberland, was by far the most agreeable, and possessed the most useful sense of the whole family.22 Lord John, the youngest, was hitherto little known. I shall have occasion to mention him frequently hereafter. He had read a good deal, and his eyes saw not faster than his memory retained. He was accurate in repeating words, sentences, nay volumes, if he pleased; nor was he defective in quickness or reasoning. Under the appearance of virgin modesty, he had a confidence in himself that nothing could equal, and a thirst of dominion that was still more extraordinary. It consisted solely in governing those with whom he was connected, without views either of interest or power. To be first, in however small a circle, was his wish; but in that circle he must be absolute: and he was as ready to sacrifice the interests and fortunes of those his friends and slaves, as he was his own. His plan seemed to be the tyranny of a moral philosopher. He was a kind of Heresiarch, that sought to be adored by his enthusiastic disciples, without a view of extending his sect beyond that circle.23 His fair little person, and the quaintness with which he untreasured, as by rote, the stores of his memory, occasioned George Selwyn to call him the learned Canary-bird.24

These three Lords determined their nephew should ask no favour of the Court; nor would they suffer him to carry their late brother’s riband to the King, lest his Majesty should draw any promise or professions from so raw a lad; or lest the boy himself should be wanting in proper respect, or be too blunt, if the King should mention his father. Lord Frederick, as of the Bedchamber to the Duke of Cumberland, was the only one of the family that since their brother’s disgrace had gone to Court: he therefore was thought most proper to restore the badge of the Order. At the same time, lest they should be taxed with rudeness, they desired Lord Besborough to thank Sandwich, but beg he would not neglect the interests of his friend. On this Sandwich ordered the patent to be drawn for Lord Corke; but Lord Mansfield, fearing the loss of that feather might root the Cavendishes in Opposition, prevailed to have it retarded. When Lord Frederick carried the Garter, the King used many expressions of concern for the death of the late Duke. Lord Frederick replied, his Majesty had not had a better subject, and that the family had never imputed their brother’s disgrace to his Majesty’s own movements.

Having foreseen the death of the Duke of Devonshire, and apprehending that it would break up and dissolve our party, I determined to know if we had anything farther to trust to. During the summer I had had frequent conversations with Lord Lyttelton, who was on good terms again with Mr. Pitt and Lord Temple, and who really admired Conway. Lord Lyttelton’s object was to reconcile George Grenville and his brothers, and to make a coalition between that whole family and the Opposition, with or without the Bedfords, but totally to the exclusion of Lord Bute. No man so addicted to wisdom was less wise than Lord Lyttelton; no man so propense to art was less artful; no man staked his honesty to less purpose, for he was so awkward that honesty was the only quality that seemed natural to him. His cunning was so often in default, that he was a kind of beacon that warned men not to approach the shallows on which he founded his attachments, always at a wrong season.25 Mr. Pitt had neither tasted his views nor reasons; and Lord Temple, who was growing less disinclined to his brother George, neither trusted Lord Lyttelton with that secret, nor with the growing coolness between him and Mr. Pitt. On this miscarriage I resolved to feel my way myself, and went to Stowe. My doubts, if any remained, were there fully cleared away. I discovered that Lord Temple had no influence, scarce any intercourse with Mr. Pitt; and, though he endeavoured to slide over that coolness, I was determined to fathom it; and did. I said I had prayed Lord Lyttelton to bring about an interview between Mr. Conway and Mr. Pitt; that the latter wanted a second in the House of Commons, and could have no man so confidential, trusty, or creditable, as the former; that I was sorry to find no disposition to union in his Lordship’s friends; and that though I would try my utmost till Christmas to cement our party, I should give over a foolish and hopeless opposition, if I met encouragement nowhere.

Lord Temple endeavoured to explain away this coolness, and said Lord Lyttelton was so newly reconciled to them that Mr. Pitt had not talked openly to him; but, continued he, if Conway had not been turned out, we should now have no Opposition—intimating, that my zeal was founded on resentment, not on any attachment to him and Mr. Pitt; and though with regard to himself this was most true, it was most unadvised arrogance in him to drop these words to me (as he did),—“Conway did not resign for us.” At the same time he was profuse of incendiary volubility, and of compliments to myself, particularly on my not only having overlooked Wilkes’s attacks,26 but in voting for him. We agreed in our sentiments, that there should be a select junto of the ablest men in the House of Commons to conduct the party. “Still, my Lord,” said I, “we should have difficulties even there: the Duke of Cumberland would object to the admission of Lord George Sackville to our councils.” Lord Temple answered abruptly, “We must not have a Prince of the blood for first Minister; that would entirely alienate the King.” This sentence explained the Duke of Cumberland’s complaints of Mr. Pitt’s coldness to all his overtures. I replied, I wished no more than his Lordship to see the Duke Minister; but he was of great credit to our party, and his life too precarious to make him formidable: “but,” said I, “I was speaking of Lord George”—“Oh!” interrupted he, “there are very, very great difficulties about Lord George: he must make his own way before we can do anything for him.”

I was so offended at this royal style of we and us, and saw so plainly that Lord Temple, though he would be glad of our bearing him on our shoulders to St. James’s, could not even disguise his little inclination to us, that I determined to disappoint him, and forbear all connexion both with Mr. Pitt and him. I acquainted Mr. Conway with the ill-success of this visit; and here too, as usual, had a pill of mortification to swallow. Provoked at Lord Temple’s discourse, he wished, he said, I had not gone so far: Mr. Pitt should come to him; he would not go to Mr. Pitt; nor liked to be thought to court anybody. I replied that it was with his consent I had proposed that interview to Lord Lyttelton; that I should never wish my friend to court men in power: overtures of union to men out of power were different; nor was there any sense in opposing without union. I told him we must either form as strong a party as we could, or give up the game. We could do better without Pitt than he without us; for he would never dare alone and unfollowed to trust himself with Lord Bute. Our business was to serve our country and preserve our characters. I had staked everything, and valued not my fortune; but I did value my character, my understanding, and my ease; nor would expose my sense by a tame, middling, now-and-then opposition. That I would make no peace with the Ministers, but would go abroad, if I could not find more activity and more sense, than I had met with hitherto. Conway replied (unfeelingly enough as to me), that for himself he was independent: he could wait; and supposed, if not soon, something would turn up at last. That he would oppose occasionally, but did not think it reasonable to say, It shall do now, or I will not try. This was a true picture of us both. I had embarked him and myself on principle, and without consideration; had gone on with redoubled zeal when I saw him injured; and now was impatient to repair the effects of my own rashness. He had been drawn in without knowing it, and had continued to act by system; could not bear to own, even to me, how deeply he felt the wound he had received; but was as much too much undisguised, on the other hand, in letting me perceive how little he felt the force of the sacrifice I had made to him. In this, and all his conversations, he dwelt on his obligations to the Dukes of Devonshire and Grafton. I said I respected their characters, but could not content myself with so narrow a bottom. He said, he thought himself bound in honour to acquaint Charles Townshend with what had passed. I said, it would immediately make him leave us; but I should not object to it, if he thought this strange delicacy honourable or necessary. He said he should not talk farther of it, nor appear cool to Mr. Pitt, lest it should be said that he had paid court to him, and was angry at the disappointment. He would have no opportunity, I told him, of showing either anger or civility to Mr. Pitt; but if he acquainted Townshend, all the world would know what had passed. He did write to Townshend the whole account.

I was now reduced to as disagreeable a situation as can well be conceived. I had, from a point of honour, and from ancient friendship, gone all lengths for a man who I perceived had much more system than warmth of affection. My secrets were communicated to a babbler; and it would be known that I had tried every quiver to wound the Ministers, without finding a single arrow to my purpose. The only thing that remained to do, I did—I kept my temper; and neither let Conway nor any man else suspect the mortifications I underwent. It had been double pleasure to my enemies to know I was not content with him; and to have let him know it, had disappointed the purposes to which I might still apply him both for his sake and my own. I wished to repair the hurt I had done him; nor till that was effected, could I accomplish my own object of withdrawing myself entirely from politics. The only notice I therefore took of what had passed, was at times to declare to Conway and others of the party, that I was so little satisfied with the conduct of the Opposition, that though I would never desert them while they remained oppressed, yet was I determined to take my leave of them as a party the moment, if ever that moment should arrive, in which they should be successful. This declaration I afterwards found as satisfactory to myself as it had been honest to those with whom I acted; and how much I was in earnest in making this resolution, my adherence to it will demonstrate.

There was perhaps a greater difficulty attending us than all I have mentioned, though not very likely to befall us. It was, what answer we should make to a question Lord John Cavendish very sensibly put to me in one of our conversations. “If we do get the better,” said he, “whom can we make Ministers?” It had been to no purpose to answer, “I do not care whom.” Unless we could form an Administration, we must remain in Opposition. The event did happen; we were offered, and could not furnish out a Ministry; and yet it once more fell into our hands by a concourse of ridiculous circumstances, that if they do not ennoble History, yet render it perhaps more entertaining than revolutions of more serious complexion.

There happened at this time, in another country, an event of which I shall take some notice, though it had no relation to our affairs. The deposed Czar, John of Muscovy, had been confined from his youth, and, as it was said, had had drugs administered to him destructive of his intellects. He had been spared, however, during the long reign of his rival Elizabeth; and had even been visited by her short-lived successor, Peter the Third. This visit might perhaps have awakened some sentiments in favour of Ivan in Russian breasts; at least jealousy in that of the foreign murderess, who now reigned in the room of both.27 On a sudden it was given out, that one Mirowitz had forced himself into the castle where Ivan was imprisoned, intending to deliver and proclaim him Emperor, but that so great was the fidelity and circumspection of the governor, that he had instantly cut the poor young Prince to pieces. This tale, almost as improbable as horrid, was believed by the greater number, and supported by a parade of forms and manifestos. Mirowitz was tried by the senate, and beheaded, after reading a confession consonant to the story divulged. His accomplice, for one they did allow him to have had, was said to have made his escape, and to have been drowned in his flight crossing a river. As Mirowitz suffered death unaccompanied with the torments used in that country, it is no forced construction to suppose he was threatened with torture if he did not authenticate what was required of him; or deceived with hopes of pardon, and prevented by sudden execution before he could recal a false confession.28 Whatever was the truth, the Empress had given such earnest of her bold and remorseless nature in the assassination of her husband, that no wonder she was suspected of being as deeply concerned in the death of Ivan. I was assured by the Duchess of Choiseul, wife of the first Minister of France, that a French physician who had been at Petersburg at the time, and employed at that Court, had told her that they who knew most believed that the death of the Empress Elizabeth had been hastened too by the arts of Catherine: yet this fell character did Voltaire and the Literati of France select as the patroness of philosophy and toleration! She had artfully been generous to a few of them; and a poet and an author will go as far in whitewashing a munificent tyrant, as a Cossack or Calmuck in fighting for those who pay him. From Augustus to Catherine the Second, no liberal usurper has ever wanted an ode or a panegyrist. The Duchess of Choiseul, who had an excellent heart and solid understanding, being provoked at the scandalous encomiums poured forth by Voltaire on so black a character, wrote an answer to him with equal sense, spirit, and reason; a work, in her situation, improper to be seen: I was one of a very few that had the satisfaction of reading it.

On the 1st of November the sentence of outlawry was pronounced against Wilkes; and on the 4th died that bacchanalian bard, his friend Churchill. He was on a visit to his friend Wilkes at Boulogne, where his excesses threw him into a fever, and where he died in a few days with epicurean indifference—a meteor that had shone but four years, and never so brightly as he might have done. He had wished, he said, for an opportunity of satirizing Mr. Pitt and Charles Townshend, who had not yet entirely listed themselves with the Court, the moment for which Churchill waited impatiently; yet, writing as he did at random, it was a chance whether he would have touched or not the true blemishes and characteristic marks of men so compounded of defects and exquisite ingredients. Churchill could hew out a block that would brave time, and last to posterity, but stood not near enough to seize the lineaments and shades that distinguish a portrait, and exhibit a resemblance to the eyes of cotemporaries.

Among Churchill’s papers was found a collection of letters from Lord Holland to Francis,29 who had furnished them to the Satirist against his late patron. In one of those epistles Francis complained of Lord Holland for not making him an Irish Bishop, and threatened to publish something that would prove Lord Holland a still greater villain than the world believed him. To silence that wretch, Lord Holland sent him 500l., and gave him a place in Chelsea College.

The death of the Master of the Rolls happening at this time, Norton was appointed to succeed him, with an additional pension of 1200l. a year; and Mr. Charles Yorke again consented to accept his former post of Attorney-General: on which the Duke of Cumberland said shrewdly, “We have lost a man of character, but they have not gained one.” This arrangement, however, did not take place. The Chancellor30 objected to Norton for Master of the Rolls; and Charles Yorke was frightened31 with the offence taken at his deserting the Duke of Newcastle and his friends. Norton remained Attorney; Sewell was appointed Master of the Rolls; and Yorke accepted a patent of precedence over the Solicitor-General;32 which only showed that he had made his peace without mending his fortune.

About the same time was published a pamphlet, perhaps the ablest ever written, called an “Inquiry into the Doctrine concerning Libels.” It severely took to pieces the arbitrary maxims of Lord Mansfield and Norton, who were roughly handled, as well as the late Lord Hardwicke. Dunning, a rising lawyer, was supposed the principal author, assisted by the Lord Chief Justice Pratt, and one or two others.

On the 19th died Stone, the famous Primate of Ireland, aged 57, having ruined his constitution by indulgence to the style of luxury and drinking established in Ireland, and by conforming to which he had found the means of surmounting the most grievous prejudices and of gaining popularity, ascendant, power: an instance of abilities seldom to be matched. He was aided, too, by several virtues: he was generous and charitable, and of a soul above revenge. When Lord Chesterfield33 held the government of Ireland, he told the Primate, “My Lord, you must govern this kingdom, for you have the best parts in it; but you want one thing, you must take orders:” alluding to the irregularity of his life. But Stone had greater parts than Lord Chesterfield imagined, for he did govern that kingdom without conforming to the decencies of his profession.34

Stone was survived but a few days by his ancient competitor the Earl of Shannon35—a more common character, he having sold his patriotism for a peerage; and maintaining by hypocrisy an influence that Stone had supported with the boldness of a statesman, and with scorn of the little knavery that he might have borrowed from his rank of Archbishop.

The noise which our succession of Patriots had made in Europe, and the disgrace their prostitution had brought on the character, gave occasion to the following anecdote. Monsieur Elie de Beaumont, renowned for his defence of the family of Calas, was in England, and went to Bath. Conversing there with Lord Chief Justice Pratt and Lord Strange, Monsieur de Beaumont said he wanted to see a Patriot. Lord Strange replied, there was no such thing. “You surprise me, my Lord, said the Chief Justice; till now I thought your Lordship one!”

At the conclusion of the year the Cider counties instructed their members to join the Minority; and Sir George Yonge36 carried a letter from some of the chiefs to the Duke of Newcastle, proposing union. The Duke sent the letter to Mr. Pitt, as an inducement to him to declare himself. Pitt thanked the Duke for the communication, but observed, the letter had not been intended for him (Pitt). He desired to be consulted no more, for he was, and would be, a single man. The Minority, he said, had heard the late glorious war abused the last session, and had sat silent. Therefore would he join nobody, but would act on every single occasion as he should think right.37 Thus, without chiefs, numbers, or union, were we left to meet the opening of Parliament in the ensuing year!

Church Preferments.—Meeting of Parliament.—Conway’s Speech.—Lord Chatham’s Legacy from Sir William Pynsent.—Speeches on Dismissal of Officers.—Duel between Mr. Chaworth and Lord Byron.—Renewal of the Question of General Warrants.

The primacy of Ireland being vacant, Mr. Grenville was desirous of procuring that dignity for Dr. Newton, Bishop of Bristol; but he declining it, Lord Granby solicited Grenville’s interest for Dr. Ewer,38 who had been his tutor, and Grenville intended to bestow that mitre on him. In the meantime it was known that Lord Northumberland espoused Robinson, Bishop of Kildare, and sought to make him Archbishop. This was immediately considered as a contest for power between the Favourite and the nominal Minister,—for that Grenville was only nominal Minister, appeared by Robinson’s obtaining the Archbishoprick; though when Grenville found he could not obtain it for Ewer, he had maliciously and artfully instigated the Duke of Bedford to solicit for Bishop Carmichael,39 who being a Scot, his promotion would have struck mankind as the act of Lord Bute, more than the appointment of Robinson, whom he really supported. The intrigues of the late Primate had been so noxious and troublesome to the English Government, that it was determined no future Archbishops of Armagh should be Lords Justices, or have any power in the Administration. The new Primate, a proud but superficial man, had not talents to recover the credit enjoyed by his predecessors.40

January 10th,—the Parliament met. The King notified to the two Houses the intended marriage of his youngest sister, the Princess Caroline Matilda, with the Prince Royal of Denmark, her first cousin. Princess Louisa, her eldest sister, was so remarkably small of her age, that, though she lived three years after this, she never appeared but as an unhealthy child of thirteen or fourteen years of age. Lord Townshend and Lord Bottetort moved the address of the Lords; Lord Warkworth and T. Pitt, of the Commons. An accidental debate happening in the latter House, General Conway, to the surprise of everybody, and particularly of me, who had with astonishment beheld his tranquillity, broke out on his own dismission, and attacked George Grenville with a fire, eloquence, and rapidity of passion and bitterness, that showed both how much he had resented and how much he had concealed. Very warm words passed between them; great applause was given to Conway by the Opposition; and the Ministers felt that the vengeance they had exerted began to lose something of its sweetness. They had infused a spirit into Conway with which all his friends would in vain have endeavoured to inspire him.

On the 15th, the King sent another message to both Houses, referring to their consideration an offer made by France to pay 670,000l., in three years, for our maintenance of their prisoners, instead of 1,100,000l., which had been settled, but with no specification of time, by the late peace. This offer was accepted on a subsequent day.

About the same time happened the following extraordinary event. Sir William Pynsent, a baronet of Somersetshire, died and left his whole fortune to Mr. Pitt, no ways related, nor personally known to him. Nor, as it appeared, was this great legacy so much the reward of his illustrious services as of his opposition to General Warrants. Sir William Pynsent, at his death, was aged 86, had formerly served in Parliament, and had voted against the Treaty of Utrecht; his principles being zealously and unalterably Whig. He was said to have had parts and humour.41 * * * * * * Lord North had married his next relation42—had courted him, and stood fair to be his heir;43 till, having voted for the tax on cyder, Sir William, who had long lived retired upon his estate, had not only quarrelled with his cousin North, but had encouraged the mob to burn him in effigy. He then became enamoured of Mr. Pitt; is said to have cast some inconstant glances towards Wilkes, and, immediately before his death, had indubitably given orders to his lawyer, to draw a new will entirely in favour of General Conway; but it was not prepared in time. Mr. Pitt, therefore, found himself in possession of real and personal estates worth above forty thousand pounds, without the regret of losing a friend; without the imputation of having flattered his benefactor, for he had never seen him; without injuring a family, for Sir William had no very near relation,44 and not one that expected his fortune; and with the satisfaction of owing such a public mark of esteem to his own virtue or merits.

On the 18th a meeting of the Opposition was held at Sir George Saville’s, to consult whether they should bring on, or defer for some time longer, a renewal of the question on General Warrants. The doubt was raised by the ill health of Mr. Pitt. James Grenville and a nephew of Lord Chief Justice Pratt, who attended the meeting, would not say that Mr. Pitt desired the motion should be deferred. The company squabbled till two in the morning, and then agreed to adjourn the measure. Sir William Meredith wrote to acquaint George Grenville with this procrastination—a ridiculous piece of candour, and received properly by Grenville, who made no answer. These assemblies I seldom or never attended; they were childish imitations of Parliaments, rarely produced any good, and only taught a party to quarrel and split into less factions. Many who cannot utter in the House of Commons can prattle in a private room. Business can never be reduced to too few heads. There should, in party as well as in Government, be one man who should consult others separately, and act as he finds best from the result of that advice, and of his own judgment: but he should let the rest know as little as possible that they are almost all probably of different opinions.

On the 21st, Dowdeswell proposed to reduce the sixteen thousand seamen to eleven thousand, but without effect. On the contrary, Charles Townshend spoke for the larger number in warm terms, and declared he had always approved the peace. This desertion did not surprise me: nor was it owing solely to his fickleness. He was now influenced by Lord George Sackville, who, dissatisfied with Lord Bute for not supporting him, had joined the Opposition: Oppositions are always great whitewashers. But the declining state of the Opposition, by deaths and other causes which I have mentioned, had alarmed Lord George, and he began to look towards Grenville, who would want all manner of strength to support himself against the Favourite.

On Jan. 23rd, the day of voting the army for the year, there happened a very spirited debate.45 Beckford began it, by declaring that if any man would second him, he would oppose so large a number as 16,000 men, because we were in no danger of being attacked by surprise; and because he apprehended there was an intention of modelling the army, which he concluded from the dismission of General Conway. He mentioned, too, an expression dropped by Charles Townshend, which he said had made his ears tingle; it was that the Colonies were not to be emancipated. The Colonies, said Beckford, are more free than Ireland, for America had not been conquered: on the contrary, it was inhabited by the conquerors. Townshend ridiculed Beckford’s alarm, affirming he had only meant that the Colonies were not to be emancipated from their dependence on the supremacy of this country. Beckford told him he had expressed a single idea by a multitude of circumlocutions, and was troubled with a diarrhœa of words—an expression with which Townshend was much hurt.

Nicholson Calvert and George Onslow opened on the dismission of Conway in very strong terms. The former said, Grenville46 had avowed it was for parliamentary conduct when he owned he had thought himself turned out for a similar cause. Onslow called the Ministers profligate and abandoned; and Lord Strange attempting to defend them, was so roughly handled on his own tergiversations by Onslow, Sir George Saville, and Thomas Townshend, that he who was wont to be all spirit, quickness, and fire, was quite abashed, and showed at least the sensibility of virtue. Thomas Townshend went farther, mentioned a list of sixteen officers, carried into the closet for dismission by Lord Sandwich: and seeing the latter sitting under the gallery, he turned towards him, and said he would tell that Minister to his face in any private company, that he was a profligate Minister. Onslow added, that they had been so cowardly as to wait for the end of the session, and skulk behind the recess.

Rigby said the Opponents had quoted all the reigns to the last, but had stopped short there, and had not mentioned Sir Robert Walpole, who had said it must be a pitiful Minister that would not dare to turn out a man that voted against him. For himself, he said he did not believe the question of Mr. Conway’s dismission would be brought on; which Lord John Cavendish assured him it would be.

Lord Harry Poulet47 told Grenville that he would be ashamed to show his face, if he could be ashamed of anything, if his uncle Lord Cobham48 could rise from the dead—Grenville stopped him, and said if his Lordship had a mind to use such language, he knew where to find him.—Others interposing to reconcile them, Grenville acknowledged he had thrown out a challenge; but at last explained it away, and the matter ended. Ellis indiscreetly affirmed that the army was necessary to support the civil magistrate. Beckford replied, that at the late riot on burning the North Briton, the magistrates of the City had secured one of the rioters without military force.

Grenville entered into a long discussion of the Crown’s prerogative of dismission; and confounded civil and military officers, without making the necessary distinction, that the latter lose a profession. He himself, he said, had not inquired formerly why he was turned out. Should he be turned out to-morrow, he would not inquire, though if he did his duty and was approved by his country, he should think it extraordinary. This sentence, seemingly incoherent with, nay, contradictory to, the rest of his speech, was, no doubt, levelled at Lord Bute, and dictated by the uneasiness of Grenville’s situation, then not generally known. He proceeded to say on the dismissed officers that some might think one meritorious, some another; others might see cause of blame. This invidious hint called up General Conway, who with exceeding warmth and spirit made one of his most admired speeches. He had asked, he said, for a court-martial, that, if anything had been thought defective in his conduct, he might be questioned on it. The refusal had proved that his dismission had flowed from no military offence. Even in the days of Charles II. the Lords Clarendon and Southampton had, though requested by the King to forbear, spoken against his measures, and yet had not been dismissed.49 The situation of officers was grievous; called on by conscience and by honour, they were chastised if not obedient. Another profession was more fortunate; Bishops were made for life; and, indeed, were piously obsequious; they might be preferred for their behaviour in Parliament, but could not be dismissed for it. He himself had received intimations to take care what he did—Grenville started!—yet he should not say from what quarter; he would not reveal what was not proper; but he had been bid to take care what he did. He had despised those menaces, had done his duty, and had been punished. He knew the threats had not come from the King, who had restored Sir Henry Erskine. He had made, he said, a declaration that he was attached to no party, yet that allegiance, it seemed, had not been thought sufficient. He concluded with strongly exhorting his brother officers not to be made slaves—he might as well have called on the Bishops.

This debate was doubly mortifying to the Ministers, who were at once so rudely tasked by the Opposition, and unsupported by every man of the Favourite’s faction—a tacit method of disavowing them; and an encouragement to those who might be tempted to oppose them.

On the 26th Mr. Chaworth, a private gentleman of fair character, was killed at a tavern by Lord Byron in a duel, to which the latter had been driven by the undisguised contempt with which the former had treated his want of honour and spirit at a club where they had just dined together. Lord Byron was formally tried by his Peers,50 and escaped punishment, in consideration of the provocation he had received.

On the 29th the question of General Warrants was again renewed in the House of Commons by Sir William Meredith,51 more agreeably, indeed, to principle than to prudence. I had endeavoured to divert the attempt and had the concurrence of the Lord Chief Justice Pratt’s opinion, we both apprehending, from the great diminution of our party since the preceding winter, that, as we should make a much more inconsiderable figure on a division in Parliament than we had done before on the same question, the merits of the cause would suffer more from that defeat than we should gain by reviving the memory of it. Though the event in the House proved what we had foreseen, we found, however, strength enough to support a battle till between four and five in the morning. Sir W. Meredith, with great force and severity, exposed the conduct of Lord Halifax, who shamefully to that hour (and indeed for some years afterwards) defeated all prosecutions against him at Wilkes’s suit, by standing on the privilege of his peerage. If they, said Sir William, who issued the warrants, had put themselves on the justice of their country, it would have alleviated their guilt; but while the privilege of the House of Commons was given up, the privilege of the other House had interfered to stop justice. He then moved that General Warrants were not consonant to law or to the liberty of the subject; and in a second question, if against a Member. Lord Strafford himself, he said, had issued but one, had pleaded that it was according to practice, and yet had recalled it. Charles II. had applied to Parliament for leave to do it by the Licensing Act. Application had been made in King William’s reign to renew that act, but it was refused. Some said the illegality was decided by the law; others that it was not. Some would say that the House of Commons was not to declare what was law. Who could bring it to an issue? Dryden Leach and other printers were ruined, and could not carry on the suit! Wilkes expelled, outlawed, banished, had no longer any interest in the question: the Secretaries of State did not desire to brine it to any issue; the House of Commons alone could do it. Sir Edward Coke declared, that, when courts of law would not decide on a clear question, the House of Commons ought. Sir Alexander Gilmour added, that not one lawyer, last year, had defended the legality of General Warrants, but had given assurances that they would be decided in the Courts below; and yet that decision had been postponed till Wilkes had been outlawed.

Dr. Hay replied with much and able subtlety; owned that when he was for putting off the question last year he had meant to reject it; his party had said that it was not proper for that House to declare on law; he himself had said those warrants were illegal, unless great urgency in their favour.52 He agreed that, by the common law of the land, those warrants were illegal: nay, he thought the question ought to be settled by Parliament, not by a resolution of one House only. Sir William had omitted the words seditious and treasonable, though adopted last year. The House might do what it pleased, but ought it to do so? Why not make the case general to all cases? Then this resolution, he heard, was to be followed by another on breach of privilege; but was every injury to a member a breach of privilege? Was the House to be an universal judicatory for offences? But the House had already declared that it has no privilege in the case of seditious and treasonable libels—a question of law is safe in courts of law; but Houses of Commons, not being permanent, may vary their resolutions. One House—both Houses cannot declare laws, though they, with the King, may enact laws. The question had either been adjudged, or was pending: both were true. The Court of Common Pleas had decided and given damages; then he named the Chief Justice Pratt, taking notice of the strong expression of an iron rod, used by that magistrate on the occasion. All juries say General Warrants are illegal; but at present the question had been hung up by the bill of exceptions, which bills are in the nature of appeals—an argument why the House should not, at that time, make a declaration. If there had been delay, why was not the offender called on? He had heard that the delay arose from the prosecutors. If anything was done wrong in the Courts below, the House alone could redress it. He then, as a correction to the proposed question, moved the following strange and scarce intelligible sentence (to load the motion ridiculously, and with intention to reject afterwards the question so amended), “That in the particular case of libels, it is proper and necessary to fix, by a vote of this House only, what ought to be deemed the law in respect of General Warrants; and for that purpose, at the time when the determination of the legality of such warrants, in the instance of a most seditious and treasonable libel, is actually depending before the courts of law; for this House do declare that a General Warrant for apprehending the authors, printers, or publishers of a libel, together with their papers, is not warranted by law, and is a high violation of the liberty of the subject.”

It was requisite for me to state the words of this proposition and account for them; for standing as they do on the printed votes without a comment, what could posterity, or persons ignorant of parliamentary craft and proceedings, think of them? Would they believe such a proposition was seriously debated?—yet, as the votes never joke, could they avoid believing so? The fact, as I have said, was, that the Ministry, to load Sir William Meredith’s question with absurdity, made use of their power, as the majority, thus to amend the question, and forced the opponents to debate it thus hampered, or withdraw it; and even the latter could not be done without leave of the House, that is of the majority, who probably would not have granted that permission, that they might give a negative to the question thus loaded, instead of rejecting Sir W. Meredith’s plain question, which it would have been more unpopular to do. By the strict rules of the House they could even have obliged the debate to be pursued on the question only as amended; but, content with the certainty of rejecting it in their own way, they suffered the Opposition to argue on the simple state of the case, and the debate accordingly proceeded so. Lord Middleton asked if the Petition of Rights had not come in by declaration? and, with regard to the charge of delay, he said the plaintiffs could not afford to go on with the bill of exceptions, and then were accused of protracting; and, to justify the renewal of the question, he observed that Lord Coke says, “Many a good proposition had succeeded at last by being pursued year after year.” Sir W. Meredith said, he had omitted the word seditious, that the question might carry no reference to Wilkes, being calculated for the general and indefinite good of all. No epithets ought to be mixed with prosecutions, nor should a man be liable to be prosecuted as a traitor for having written a libel. No privilege held against treason; but the House ought not to be deprived of its members on a false charge of treason. Conway asked if Hay had been serious in his motion? did he mean his amendment should go out into the world on so important a question? It would be a mockery of Parliament. Grenville called him to order; but Conway persisted and said it would be a shameful proceeding. Wedderburn and the Solicitor-General again interrupted him; but he was supported by Sir George Saville and Onslow; and the Speaker declared there was nothing disorderly in Conway’s words. Dowdeswell said, Dr. Hay had argued on the whole question, therefore he would; but Lord Frederick Campbell endeavouring to fix the debate on the question as amended, Charles Townshend tried to compose the heat that had arisen by recurring to the subject, and said he hoped no lawyer would assert that juries were not judges of law as well as of fact. De Grey, Solicitor-General, said the juries had given the prosecutors exemplary and vindictive damages, and had been animated by faction. The defendants had pressed the prosecutors not to delay. Charles Yorke spoke for three-quarters of an hour on the side of the Opposition; said he would retract if he had altered his opinion; but found reasons against the warrants growing all over the kingdom. The warrant had been so emphatically illegal, that it never could be debated in a court of law. It was expedient for Parliament and for the honour of the Crown, that Parliament should take the lead in questions of law. The House of Commons had often carried up resolutions to the other House. This question was connected with the privileges of the House. Precedents made in good times were felt in bad. The words of the warrant had been copied from an old blundering warrant of office, and could never be taken up again. The Crown should extinguish any jealousy of such a proceeding in future, by not making difficulties on plain questions. Beckford said, this country was obliged to Wilkes for the stand he had made. It had been the more necessary when a Whig Ministry acted on Tory principles, and he quoted the instance of Minutius, who pleaded that he had written nothing against the Emperor and his mother.

Dyson said, if the House of Commons had a right of declaring law, it had no occasion to make laws: they might declare to be law whatever they wished should be so. Lord George Sackville asked if the seizure of papers would come in question in the Courts below? and said, that, had they had a mind to impeach the Secretaries of State, they must previously have come to this declaration.

Norton entered into the defence of Lord Halifax, whose delays, he said, had not impeded the decision of the great cause. Lord Halifax had been guilty of a slip; and therefore, against such a prosecutor as Wilkes, was justifiable. Lord Halifax had availed himself of his privilege, till Wilkes was outlawed, (and so he did for years after); the journeymen printers had applied to be bought off. Dryden Leach’s attorney had come to him (Norton), and said he had heard it was wished to compromise Leach’s cause; but he (Norton) had refused, but had offered to bring it to an issue in a week; since then had never heard of him. Till that very day they had not been able to get the bill of exceptions sealed. Charles Yorke had said that question had never been argued; but he (Yorke) had argued it himself. (This Yorke denied.) It would be a quære whether Lord Halifax, as Secretary of State, was a Justice of Peace. Had not the most respectable characters, living and dead, been abused? That sort of libel deserved no quarter.

Colonel Barré said the Inquisition itself did not seize papers for evidence. Opposition keeps Ministers in order, though many oppose from faction. About twenty officers had opposed the Court last year on the question of General Warrants! It was now said, all but one had repented—if they had, were such officers fit to be employed? He commended Lord Nuneham53 and Lord Charles Spencer, who had resisted the connections and importunities of their families: and then said ironically, “When the two present honest Secretaries of State54 die, the Court may choose one of the most profligate abandoned dogs in the kingdom to replace him.”—This was levelled at Lord Sandwich, who was sitting under the gallery. Barré then advised the Ministers to adopt the question without amending it—why would they do things too well? Such a man as Sandwich would write a panegyric on Nero. If this question was suffered to pass, it would make the King beloved and the Ministers less hated. General Howard,55 in answer to the attack above, said, he remained of the same opinion as last year, and had never paid court nor asked pardon.

Lord North defended his uncle Halifax, on whom he thought Barré had bestowed the epithet of little-minded. Barré said he had applied it to the Administration in general. He was glad to see Mr. Grenville with all his friends about him. It had been said in a foregoing debate that he had carried the whole Administration home in his chariot. He liked Lord North’s panegyric on one of the Secretaries—if anybody had a mind to make a panegyric on the other, he was welcome.

Conway again declared his surprise that they would load such a question with so many words. Why not pass it simply, or put a negative? Was there ever an instance of such a preface with new matter? On the Star Chamber and other grievances each resolution stood single. Lord Halifax might be in the right, but had caused delay. All that we have valuable stands on resolutions.

Grenville then spoke his usual hour; and immediately after him Sir George Saville rose to take notice of most obnoxious words that had fallen from Dr. Hay in the beginning of the debate. I hear, said Saville, that the Law of Government is superior to the Law of the Land: such words are impeachable. Dr. Hay replied that the Law of Government meant the Law of Necessity. This produced great warmth and calling to order, till at last Sir George Saville said he was glad the gentleman did not avow those words. Hay taxing Conway with want of temper, the latter replied, he believed those who had meant to hurt him, had hurt themselves more. Onslow offered to produce pamphlet for pamphlet written by the Administration: and then Hussey very ably and for fifty minutes discoursed against the arbitrary tenets set up by the Court and its lawyers; yet still with the candour and decency peculiar to him. The circumstances inserted in the amendment, he said, were not true. He doubted if ever the question could be determined in Westminster Hall. This was the first time that ever a probable cause was pleaded in behalf of General Warrants. New doctrines sprung up every day in Westminster Hall. A number of points must be determined before that cause could be decided; as whether a Secretary of State is a Justice of Peace; whether his messenger is a constable; whether the reason assigned for the commitment was a probable cause, &c. Great difficulties, too, there were in contending with the Crown, and against its influence and its money, &c. He did not believe that the warrants would come before the Courts below. The predecessors of these Ministers had always compounded such prosecutions. The Justices in Ireland having imposed illegal oaths, the House had declared them illegal, but went no farther; excusing the Justices on the circumstances of the times: it was in King William’s reign. Lord Palmerston,56 a young man of sense, and who spoke then for the first time, declared himself convinced by Hussey’s arguments. Rigby pronounced Lord Halifax’s intrenching himself within privilege, justifiable; for who knew what damages might be given against him?—and so far was true; juries could impose fines to the vastest amount; and as such fine became the property of the prosecutor, the Crown itself could not remit it. But what latent defects, therefore, were discovered by agitating these questions? A Secretary of State could commit a grievous injustice, and yet could avoid punishment, if sheltered by the privilege of his peerage. On the other hand, for a slight imprisonment, a jury, naturally partial to their equals, especially when oppressed, and as naturally averse to their superiors, can give damages to the amount of the defendant’s whole estate, without his being able to obtain redress from any quarter.

At half an hour after four in the morning the Question, as amended, was rejected by 224 against 185, the Opposition being forced to divide for the question that had been imposed on them, or they could have obtained a division on none at all.

A remarkable circumstance in the foregoing debate, but which would have interrupted the thread of the narration, was that Norton told the younger Onslow that he should be diverted, for he would treat Yorke worse than ever he had been treated—and he kept his word, being willing to lower Yorke, who might be his competitor for the Seals. Yorke bore this insult with too little spirit, and thence and by his fluctuating behaviour, and by discovering far less parts than he was supposed to possess, daily sunk in the estimation of the House.

Distinction between late Motions on General Warrants shown in the Votes.—Dismissal of Officers.—Proceedings against Almon deferred.—Mr. Grenville’s Resolutions.—Dr. Browne’s Pamphlet.

The next day Sir William Meredith, uneasy that Dr. Hay’s ridiculous preface should, by being united to his question, pass for his, proposed his difficulty to the House, the Speaker having been so impartial as to delay the impression of the votes. Grenville confessed it was hard, and yielded that a distinction should be made. Conway caught artfully at this concession, acknowledged Grenville’s candour, owned he had been too warm himself, but desired Ministers to observe what difficulties were brought on gentlemen by such unparliamentary arts. Grenville repented his concession, and Dyson, the Jesuit of the House, endeavoured to explain it away; but Conway pinned them down to what had been yielded, and the votes were so cooked as to ascribe the amendment to the House, and distinguish it from Meredith’s original motion.

Not content with this atonement, the elder Onslow, two days afterwards, on a motion for paving the streets, parodied Dr. Hay’s question, but desired it might not be printed in the votes, as none of his constituents would understand it.

We of the Opposition had another business on the anvil, as knotty and full of difficulties as the question on General Warrants, and on which it was as arduous to decide whether we should bring it into Parliament or not. This was the complaint on the dismission of officers for their parliamentary conduct. Lord John Cavendish had pledged himself to move it; and it would not only revive the odium against the Ministers on a topic of such popular sound, but the cruelty exercised on General A’Court, deprived of his bread for a silent vote, and the rigour shown to Conway, though so decent and conscientious, had been particularly crying. Still there were both solid and private objections. The all-puissance of the Court was sure of putting a negative on the question; and thence officers would become still more dependent when the Crown should be thus authorized to cashier them at pleasure, by the approbation of Parliament. Charles Yorke and Charles Townshend were afraid of a debate that would reduce them to quit their allies before they had made their peace, or to oppose the Crown on so favourite a branch of prerogative as that of holding a scourge over its dependents. The Duke of Richmond, though he had promised, if the question should be stirred, to take part for Conway, could not wish for the occasion of differing with an Administration with whom, on every other point, he was united; and the officers in general, though they would have rejoiced to be emancipated from their dependence, were as little desirous of seeing a topic agitated, which would have obliged them to approve the practice, or exposed them to the resentment of the Crown, with the certainty, at the same time, that a censure of the practice could not be obtained by so weak an Opposition. Nor, hurt as I was at the treatment of my friend, could I myself wish to have the matter discussed in Parliament, where, by voting against the measure of dismissing officers for their conduct in the House, I must in fact have condemned my father, who had used the same severity, though on far higher provocation, and against determined opponents. Even Conway himself, aware that he should be deserted by his brethren, the officers, was by no means eager for bringing on the question. In this dilemma, Lord Temple advised Lord John to go to Hayes, and learn of Mr. Pitt whether, if they should defer the motion, he should be for it, when he should be able to come forth. This very advice indicated that Lord Temple at that time knew not Mr. Pitt’s mind, and wished to learn it for his own private reasons. Mr. Pitt’s answer then, and his change on the same occasion afterwards, marked that at that hour he had received no overtures from the Court, and that afterwards he probably had, as will be seen. Lord John went to Hayes, and found Mr. Pitt in bed with the gout. Pitt said he knew not when he should be able to come to the House: if he could he should be warmly with the Opposition; yet he feared too many negatives on that question would authorize the Court to dismiss officers. He condemned the practice strongly; and said whatever party or division of party might prevail hereafter, he hoped, though he grew an infirm old man, and that all was over with him, that they would do justice, not only to the persons dismissed, but to the principle. He was sorry the question of the Warrants had been stirred this year: had Opposition waited till a decision against them had been pronounced in Westminster Hall, not an argument in their behalf would have remained.—When Lord John returned with this answer, I begged him to wait, and to give out that it was in compliment to Mr. Pitt, which would do credit to our cause—and by delaying, I hoped to avoid the question.

Almon,57 an active and officious printer for the Opposition, and attached to Lord Temple and Wilkes, having been prosecuted for publishing the excellent letter on libels, appeared on February 6th, in the King’s Bench, to show cause why an attachment against him should not be issued. As Lord Mansfield would not openly appear in this cause (he himself being severely treated in that pamphlet), as Judge Denison58 had resigned, and the new judge had not taken his seat, Wilmot,59 the remaining judge in that court, said, “It would be too much for him to take upon himself.” The Attorney-General moved to have Almon bound over to the next term. His counsel desired he might be heard, or dismissed; but he was bound over. This suit was afterwards dropped when Mr. Grenville found it convenient to have libels written against the Administration.

The same day Onslow moved for a call of the House for that day fortnight, that the House might be full on the great questions of Dismission of Officers, of Canada Bills, the Money due on the Manilla Ransom, the Cider Tax, &c.; and it was agreed to.

Grenville then proposed his thirty-five resolutions60 towards a bill for laying duties on America, by his memorable Stamp Act. This famous bill, little understood here at that time, was less attended to. It removed the burthen of a tax to distant shoulders; and the most momentous acts are seldom much discussed, when no immediate interest occurs to oppose them. The colonies, in truth, were highly alarmed, and had sent over representations so strong against being taxed here, that it was not thought decent or safe to present their memorial to Parliament. The chief colonies had long been increasing in power and opulence; and wise men had not been wanting to foresee how difficult it would become for so small an empire as Britain to contain them within the necessary limits of dependence. Nor would that subjection probably be maintained, but by garrisons and regular forces; the charge of which, if borne by the colonies themselves, would leave to England but a precarious power over them; or would be too weighty an expense on the mother-country; and would even place a greater military force in the hands of the Crown than would be consistent with the freedom of this constitution; for of necessity the troops stationed in America must be often changed, and brought back to Britain; or might grow too intimately connected with the colonists; or might lose sight of all obedience but to their own officers. Long had the colonies been neglected, or overlooked. Sir Robert Walpole, whose maxim was, Quieta non movere, had been content with seeing no troubles arise in America. He had left that province to its proper minister, the Duke of Newcastle, Secretary of State, who had a closet full of despatches from that quarter unopened for a large number of years.61 The Board of Trade, whose department it was, had sunk into a perfect sinecure for Members of Parliament; insomuch that Martin Bladen,62 one of the commissioners, applying himself to the duties of his office, it was said with humour, that Bladen was Trade, and the other commissioners the Board. Two events concurred to rouse both the Americans and the English Government from this lethargy. The first was the conquest of Canada, which, delivering the colonies from apprehensions of the French, had thus early taught them to feel their own weight and importance. The second was the power of the Crown being in the hands of Grenville. It had been proposed to Sir Robert Walpole, to raise the revenue by imposing taxes on America; but that Minister, who could foresee beyond the benefit of the actual moment, declared it must be a bolder man than himself who should venture on such an expedient. That man was found in Grenville, who, great in daring, and little in views, was charmed to have an untrodden field before him, of calculation and experiment. The opposition of the Americans touched a third string predominant in his nature,—an obstinacy of supporting his will and his power. In the light of easing and improving an overburthened country and revenue, he was not blameable in wishing it could be accomplished. Nor, considering how great a debt had been incurred by supporting the colonies in the last war, was it unreasonable to desire that they should assist their mother in contributing to lighten a burthen become almost too grievous to be supported. But to this single object were all Grenville’s views and knowledge confined. His policy by no means embraced impediments or consequences. To say that his plan would be confined to the present assistance as then chalked out, was what neither himself pretended, nor was it by any means adequate to the mischiefs the attempt might produce. He himself termed it but an experiment towards farther aid, and as such the Americans immediately understood it. Little did he weigh the danger of a contest between the mother-country and such distant, extensive, and now powerful subjects. Less did he attend to the opportunity he threw into the hands of Spain and France, of exciting a mutinous spirit in our colonies, and when occasion should serve, of throwing assistance into them against their parent. Least of all did he foresee the damage he would inflict on trade, and how far the expected aid would be from compensating the loss the British merchant would suffer by a quarrel with our outlying brethren; but it was the fate of the times I am now describing,—I mean during the administrations of Lord Bute and Grenville,—to stir questions which, for the happiness of the whole, had better have slept in oblivion. The Americans soon learned to enter upon and discuss those problems of government, the benefits of which happy nations had better enjoy than agitate; which, from the perversity of man, are never universally assented to, and consequently cannot be moved without mischief; and which wisdom will never recal from speculation into dispute, but when the afflictive hand of power makes opposition to them the only remedy left against tyranny and arbitrary will.

From this moment nothing was heard from America but questions on the right of taxation, and whether the colonists had not carried with them all the birthrights of English freemen: whether their assemblies were not Parliaments, and whether any man could be taxed who was not represented. Parallels were drawn between the Americans, Scotland, and Ireland; and while all obedience was acknowledged63 to the Crown, the jurisdiction of the British Parliament came to be undervalued, and set at nought. Every assumption of liberty that had been pleaded here against our kings, was now set up against the jurisdiction of England. The overflow of political writings in these islands had long been transmitted for vent to America, and were now the basis of a new paper war. Nor were there wanting in the chief provinces men of subtle and liberal minds, who knew how to set their pretensions in the fairest light. Still less was there a dearth of aspiring demagogues, who felt how much consideration must attend real or affected patriotism. On both sides of the ocean, there happily were found some men of that moderate frame of mind, who, though commonly the last to attain credit in the loud cry of faction, were successful in tempering the evil, though censured at home, and but ill rewarded with the attention they merited from America.

I have thus touched upon the outlines of this ill-omened dispute. More must be said on it hereafter; yet shall I sparingly treat a subject on which so many volumes have been written, and which at the moment I write64 seems calmed—I fear, not composed. New pretensions erected, and the honour of old claims to be asserted, seldom moulder away pulveris exigui jactu. These disputes, like all others on government, date from the foresight always wanting in new institutions. Men talk of patriarchal systems, and original compacts. Necessity and accident formed all systems, and men were governed long before they reasoned. Where ambition was in the governed, and wisdom and humanity in the governors, the system proved gentle and moderate. Where the contrary happened, power was earlier felt. When once formed, succeeding men were ambitious to usurp government, not to correct it. When it grew intolerable, it was patriotism to force it back to its principles. At last, patriotism itself was found to be the shortest, as it was the most plausible step to power: and the patriot becoming the attorney for his countrymen, proved the only winner by the gain of the cause. When the New World was discovered, it was parcelled out as the property of the princes whose subjects made discoveries. The expense of settling it, after driving out or butchering the natives, would have been enormous: the hazard from such long voyages and new climates, most unpromising. To tempt their old subjects to make the experiment, it was necessary for the European sovereigns to offer both great and specious encouragement. From Britain especially, where the monarch was not absolute, he could not despatch large involuntary embarkations. Grants of vast tracts of land were a shining bait; and, as the fashion gained ground, lasting privileges were superadded. Charters, clothed with the most flattering conditions, were liberally bestowed; and as the Crown was the sole dispenser of those graces, the King’s Ministers were little likely to insert any other dependence as terms on which the boon was granted. Assemblies were instituted, rather in imitation of Parliaments, than as subservient to that of the maternal empire. Little in those faint outsets of new government was it natural to foresee that one day or other it might come to be wished that the line had been drawn with more precision. Thus (as I have said, it has happened to governments in general) conclusions have been drawn from premises which never existed. The Americans founded themselves on charters greedily asked and carelessly granted; and though I would be far from weakening written, or any established principles, it is easy to see that, whatever the letter of such charters may be, or the spirit on which they were bestowed, the Legislature could not intend they should exempt the colonies from the jurisdiction of Parliament. I have indeed no doubt but Elizabeth, James, and Charles would not have been averse to establish their own authority over new provinces, independently of Parliament: but the question on either hand was certainly never in contemplation. Both policy and humanity, in this great contest between Britain and her colonies, should rather use their efforts to reconcile their interests, than to pronounce between them. Parliament ought to have no ampler jurisdiction over the colonies, than it has over the inhabitants of Britain; nor would that be sufficient guarantee for the liberties of America, if Parliaments, vindicating their authority by force, should be inclined to feel partiality against those that had resisted its domination. Equal claim to indulgence and lenity of treatment with other British subjects should be ascertained to the colonies, if under the same jurisdiction. An unequal yoke, from whatever cause imposed, whether under a King or a Parliament, must be felt most by those most subjected to it. The colonists have affected to be willing to contribute to the aid of the whole, provided they may tax themselves,—a pretension liable to great difficulties: for, though to avoid dependence on British Parliaments, they may at present choose this flattering alternative, what security can there be that their assemblies, thus erected into Parliaments, will remain harmoniously ready at all times to share the burthen? Some have demanded for the Americans a right of sending representatives to the English Parliament,—a question, even if acceptable to them (which it is thought it would not be), perhaps still more replete with danger. We know tolerably well what a British Parliament can and cannot do: how far it can be corrupted, how mischievous that corruption may be, and how far the weight of the House of Commons can operate against the two other parts of the Legislature: but who can tell what change in the constitution might be effectuated by touching, by enlarging the actual existence of that assembly? Add a great number of members; it may grow cheap, or too preponderant in the scale. A large number of Americans may clog, and clash with, every British operation. A small number may be too potent, from the very extensive dependencies they must enjoy in that part of the world. A member of each province would become its viceroy: and when we see how prodigious is the influence of any popular orator here, though under the eye of the Sovereign, what would be his authority if a Pitt, or a Wilkes, were to return to America, clothed with the mantle of disgust and patriotism?

These, therefore, are questions to be skinned over, if possible, by moderate councils. On some disputes, to pronounce is to declare battle. While undecided, men will weary themselves and others with literary altercation. Determine the point, and the adversaries have recourse to the means of recovering the ground they have lost. It is the kindest way of ruling men to govern them as they will be governed, not as they ought to be governed. The peace and happiness and security of society is the intention of laws, and ought to be of law-givers: and to reconcile is perhaps a more amiable virtue in a patriot than to reform. It has not the same glaring appendages; but carries a more internal comfort to the man that exerts it, as it is purchased with fewer and lighter hardships to those in whose service it is employed.

When Grenville moved the resolutions, Colonel Barré was the first, and almost the single man to oppose them, treating severely Charles Townshend, who supported the motion.65 Barré, Alderman Baker, and a few more proposed to adjourn the consideration, but were defeated by a majority of 245 against 49, after a debate that lasted till nine o’clock. On the 15th, when the bill was brought in, Rose Fuller presented a petition from Jamaica, desiring to be heard against it by counsel. This Grenville, with heat and haughtiness, opposed, as it was a petition against a money-bill. Conway pleaded for receiving the petition, showing the distinction between this and taxes laid at home, where the persons to be taxed have representatives with whom they can entrust their interests, and who can object to any designed burthens that may be too oppressive. Charles Yorke made a long speech against receiving the petition; but it was in truth a set speech in favour of the bill, and occasionally applied to the petition. The House ill-relishing opposition to a tax which was not to fall on themselves, the petition was rejected, and the bill easily passed. About the same time a petition from the Cyder counties met with the same fate on a division of 150 to 82.

So triumphant was the Administration that the very creatures of Mr. Pitt were forward to chant their praises and stigmatize their opponents. Besides a sermon against libels, preached on the 30th of January by Dr. Lyttelton, Bishop of Carlisle, there was at this time a servile tract against Faction, published by Dr. Browne, who, a few years before, had written a thing, called An Estimate, which, notwithstanding its pert and silly positions, had met with unaccountable success. In that piece Mr. Pitt had been his hero. This Browne, the ape of Pope, and who had written some poems, not without merit, had afterwards produced two very indifferent tragedies;66 and, lastly, an absurd treatise on Music, which he pretended to apply to the formation of a visionary Government. He ended his life deplorably by his own hand in a fit of illness and madness, having been invited to Russia to assist the Czarina in some of her ostentatious projects on legislation, and being oppressed, either with imaginary glory, or despondence of supporting his reputation.67

These panegyrics, or vindications, answered no better to the Ministers than their severity. Williams, the re-printer of the North Briton, being sentenced to the pillory, he went thither in a coach marked 45, the number of the famous paper for which Wilkes suffered, and which became his hieroglyphic with the mob, who near the pillory erected a gallows, on which they hanged a boot with a Scotch bonnet. At the same time 200l. was collected for Williams.

Isle of Man Act.—King’s Illness.—Motion respecting Ex-officio Informations.—Warburton.—Dismissal of Officers.—Newfoundland and Virginia Petitions.

Among Grenville’s economic projects, one was to purchase from the Duke of Athol the sovereignty of the Isle of Man, which was the harbour and entrepot of the smugglers between Great Britain and Ireland, and who were secured by the jurisdiction of that Peer. As the Duke was unwilling to part with his property, Grenville, well-founded in his scheme, determined to force it from him by Act of Parliament, or to oblige him to compound under that terror. A bill was accordingly brought in for that purpose, and the Duke and Duchess68 were heard by their counsel. Mr. Grey Cooper,69 who pleaded their cause, made a most admired speech at the bar of the House, and the Scotch members and the Opposition supported the Duke’s rights. At last the matter was adjusted by purchase of the title of the Duke and Duchess, for which the former received 70,000l., and her Grace 2000l. a year for life.

On the 20th the House was called over, as appointed; but, Mr. Pitt not appearing, the magnificent threats of motions which our party had thrown out, were again laid aside, and at last dropped, from various reasons as will be mentioned, but particularly by the great event to which the King suddenly falling ill gave birth.

Some time before his marriage the King’s face was full of pimples. These had so entirely disappeared, that it was apprehended he had made use of external remedies to repel them. It is certain that from that time he frequently laboured with disorders on his breast, particularly during the Queen’s first pregnancy. He was now again seized with a cough and fever, for which he was repeatedly blooded four times, and was apprehended to be in much danger.70 So critical a situation made men take notice that, to secrete him from all intercourse with his Court, Lord Bute had placed the King at Buckingham House, a damp unwholesome spot, and rendered more perilous by the neighbourhood of two infectious hospitals. The vigour of his age and his sanguine constitution seemed to require more exercise and air than he enjoyed in that sauntering and domestic life. It was even said that Dr. Duncan71 advising his Majesty to have one of his palaces in the country fitted up, and to live there for some time, Lord Bute harshly reprimanded the physician, and asked him what he had to do to advise beyond his line?—a question which reason could easily have answered, though awe might not. After stating some intervening matters, I shall return to this subject.

The Chevalier d’Eon having accused the Comte de Guerchy of a design to have him assassinated, the grand jury found the bill against the Ambassador. This new insult was not more perplexing to the Ambassador than it was to the Ministers. The latter determined to remove the verdict by a writ of certiorari into the King’s Bench, and then to issue another of noli prosequi. The affront, in the meantime, met with no support, and was soon forgotten in the subsequent national disputes.

On the 4th of March, Nicholson Calvert, seconded by Serjeant Hewet, moved the House to take from the Attorney-General the power of informations ex-officio—a blow intended to stigmatize Norton, as well as to serve liberty. Mr. Conway having observed that those popular questions only terminated in confirming the power that was abused, had vainly laboured to prevent the motion. Grenville and the lawyers opposed it; and denying that the power had been abused, urged that there was no reason for taking it away. Charles Yorke spoke on the side of the Court, and, after a short debate, the motion was rejected by 204 to 78.72

Bishop Warburton,73 who thought the persecution he had suffered from Wilkes and Churchill, his devotion to the Ministry, and his great pre-eminence in learning over his brethren on the Bench, had entitled him to one of the most considerable mitres, resented so much the promotion of Terrick to the see of London, that, during the King’s illness, in the King’s own chapel, he preached on neglected merit, and, with the same modesty that shines through his writings, drew pictures of himself and his rival under the distinctions of merit and demerit.74

The City of London petitioning the House of Commons for more money for the new bridge at Blackfriars, Lord Strange, Elliot, and Rigby opposed, the latter saying rudely, that he did not know what obligations the King had to the City. Grenville, with more prudence, countenanced the petition and procured a gift of 7000l.

Lord John Cavendish, impatient to fulfil his engagement, prevailed on Lord Rockingham to go to Hayes, and know if Mr. Pitt would come to town, or desired to have the motion on dismission of officers delayed any longer. Mr. Pitt’s language was now exceedingly altered, though he still highly condemned the dismission of Conway. The question, he said, touched near upon prerogative. It ought to have been brought on early in the session; was sorry to hear it had been reported that the question had been postponed on his account: himself had never advised to agitate it. Lord Rockingham even doubted, from his inexplicit conversation, whether, if he should appear in the House, he might not make the same declaration there—a new reason for alarming us that were averse to the motion. Lord Temple inquired after the result of the visit. Lord Rockingham declared himself less satisfied than ever with Mr. Pitt. Lord Temple assured him they were as well disposed as ever to the Opposition; but then dropped, that if the former designed arrangement had taken place, he did not believe it would have held six months. “Why?” said Lord Rockingham. “Because,” replied Lord Temple remarkably, “I believe the Duke of Devonshire, and others of you, never liked that the Treasury should be put into my hands.”

The Budget was opened by Grenville on the 29th of March, an occasion that generally produces applause to the Head of the Treasury, who must possess more lights on that subject than other men; and those lights strike the more forcibly, as the audience are little masters of such intricate details; and as the monied men, who alone feel the force or deficiency of the Minister’s arguments, are rarely endowed with eloquence, or even elocution. Yet Grenville, who valued himself on his knowledge of finance, and who, of all qualifications, wanted not redundancy of words, spoke but languidly and unsatisfactorily, chiefly pointing his very long speech against a pamphlet published by Hartley, on the State of the Nation. Himself, he said, would never punish any invectives against himself; yet he betrayed every symptom of soreness and malice. In very few years afterwards he used the same means with Hartley against the Administration; and, previous to a session of Parliament,75 published, or countenanced, an invidious State of the Nation; but met with a far more severe and able return than he himself had made to Hartley.

On the 1st of April, the King withdrew to Richmond for a week, but returned unexpectedly on the 3rd and 4th to his levee and drawing-room. This sudden appearance was at that time supposed calculated to prevent any notion of his being ill; and consequently to avoid any proposal for a Bill of Regency, in case he should fail. The Favourite, in the meantime, began to give more open marks of his disgust to the Ministers. A bill for regulating the poor, drawn by one Gilbert,76 a member, and steward to Lord Gower, had passed the Commons with slight animadversion, and had been sent to the Lords. The Earl of Egmont opposed it strenuously on the first and second reading, and with much applause; yet it was then carried. When it came into the committee, Lord Bute’s friends exerted themselves to throw it out; though, to disguise his opposition, Lord Bute absented himself, and the Earl of Northumberland voted for it; but as the Favourite’s creatures, the Earls of Denbigh and Pomfret, as well as Lord Egmont, conducted the party against the bill, the Bedford party were not the dupes of such flimsy arts. Lord Mansfield faintly supported the bill; the Dukes of York and Gloucester voted for it, yet the commitment was rejected by 58 to 44, Newcastle, Lord Temple, and the Opposition uniting against the Bedfords. Lord Pomfret then moved to put off any farther consideration of the bill for two months; but that measure seeming too violent after it had passed one House, and had been twice approved in the other, it was carried by 50 to 49, to resume it after the holidays; when the Bedfords consented to drop it.77

April the 3rd,—Sturt78 and John Pitt79 presented to the Commons a petition from several merchants complaining of encroachments by the French at Newfoundland—another grievance that reflected on the late peace. The Ministers had the assurance to oppose the reception of the petition, but managed as awkwardly as indecently; and, at last, moved to examine Commodore Palliser,80 who commanded on the station in question. Palliser was a vigorous officer and a sensible man, and had been so much esteemed by Lord Anson, that Admiral Saunders, desiring to have the assistance of Palliser, had offered to relinquish the use of a 74-gun ship, if the Admiralty would send Palliser with him. General Conway, Colonel Barré, and Lord George Sackville made severe remarks on the conduct of the Ministers. Palliser was called for, but declaring he was not prepared, the House allowed him time till the next day.

When he appeared again, he produced a letter he had sent to the French Commodore, at St. Pierre, with remonstrances on their behaviour; and proved that he had by no means connived at their innovations. They had denied the justice of most of his complaints; but to some had returned no answer. Admiral Saunders, who spoke then for the first time, and with extreme unreadiness, justified one of our captains who had burned some French boats, and said he would have done the same. Late at night a sudden dispute arising whether Palliser should be asked his opinion on an Act of Parliament relating to the fisheries, the Ministers, who sought to evade farther examination, opposed the question being put to him. Some warm men in the Opposition supporting that motion (though the wisest did not concur with them), divided the House, to the great joy of the Ministers, who rejected the question by 161 to 44: and thence, at once, determined to stifle any farther inquiry, Rose Fuller moving to adjourn the consideration for three months; and Nugent to thank Palliser for his account of his own conduct, though there were witnesses waiting to show it had not been irreproachable. So eager were the pacific Ministers to justify France, and wink at her encroachments.

Mr. Garth, the same day, presented a petition from the agent for Virginia against the New American Mutiny Bill, which ordered the billeting of soldiers on private houses, as there were no inns in that country; but this petition, too, the Ministers refused to hear. In the debate, Grenville quoting the Scotch law, young Thomas Townshend spoke well and warmly against making the Scotch law our precedent; and the younger Onslow said, that three Scots were preferred for one Englishman. Elliot spoke finely in answer; said he thought English and Scots were the same; and that if himself had merit enough, he should pretend to any English place. That partialities were always common; had been shown to Sussex,81 and ought to be to Buckinghamshire; and if the men of the latter county82 were the most worthy, he would support them. The House then adjourned for the holidays, when Grenville, finding the American merchants vehemently averse to his new bill for billeting soldiers in that country, promised to drop it.

State of Parties.—King’s Illness.—Regency Bill.

When the Houses met again after the recess, a very new scene opened to the public, though unfolded by degrees, and of which all the springs were not at first discovered. Accident, the rashness of Opposition, and the intemperance of Ministers concurred and wrought up the ensuing confusions; but the source lay in the mutual jealousy of the Favourite and Grenville, on which I have already touched, and which terminated in lasting mortification to the two rivals, and gave birth to the various and fluctuating exhibition of politics that took place and succeeded each other from this period. In truth this was the era of faction, though it did not immediately predominate. Hitherto it might be said that the two parties of Whig and Tory still subsisted; though Jacobitism, the concealed mother of the latter, was extinct. The Court had indeed admitted few Tories into place, from their total want of abilities. But though Grenville and the Duke of Bedford had always called themselves Whigs, and the Chancellor Northington really was one, yet Lord Bute had left the standard of prerogative in the Court, and his successors had relaxed none of those high-flown doctrines. Nothing could be more despotic than Grenville’s nature. Bedford was drawn by the Duchess and Rigby to adopt any principles, however contrary to his opinion, that favoured her love of power, or Rigby’s rapacity: and Lord Mansfield retained great weight in a cabinet so framed to embrace boldly any arbitrary measures that he was always ready to suggest and always afraid to execute himself. On the other hand, the Opposition, though headed by Newcastle, who had sailed with every current, and though composed of great and proud families, dated from the stand they had made, or by resentment had been forced to make, to the Favourite’s plan of extending the prerogative. Lord Temple stood on no ground but popularity; and the cast of Mr. Pitt’s life, contrary to his temper, had thrown him too on the affections of the people. The crisis I am going to describe broke these ill-consolidated connections into several factions; and though one of those factions adhered more steadily to their professions than the rest, the subsequent contests were rather a struggle for power, than the settled animosity of two parties, though the body of Opposition still called itself Whig, an appellation rather dropped than disclaimed by the Court; and though the real Tories still adhered to their old distinctions, while they secretly favoured, sometimes opposed, the Court, and fluctuated according as they esteemed particular chiefs not of their connection, or had the more agreeable opportunity of distressing those who supported the cause of freedom. As their whole conduct was comprised in silent votes, and never was considerable enough to turn a single scale in the political changes,83 I shall seldom mention them any more.

The King’s illness had occasioned a general alarm; but, though he escaped the danger, his health was so precarious, and he had such frequent disorders on his breast on taking the least cold, that all sober men wished to see a Regency settled by Parliament in case of his death. Yet most of those who possessed or hoped for power, dreaded such a bill: and even they, who wished best to their country, could not be without apprehension from it, as it would probably be framed on the model of the last, which contained the odious and arbitrary clause of præmunire,84 and as it would undoubtedly be calculated to continue the domination of the Princess and the Favourite, or of the Ministers then in place, an alternative equally threatening to liberty. The Princess could by no means desire to hear a Regent nominated, as she could not flatter herself she should be the person in preference to the mother of the future King. Should even a minority not happen, the designation of the Queen for Regent would teach mankind whither to address their homage, and draw from the Princess that court which till now had been paid to her as all-powerful over the mind of her son. Lord Bute had brought himself into as disagreeable a predicament. By having quitted his place in the Cabinet, what pretensions could he have to one in the Regency? Should he even obtain one by the King’s recommendation or nomination, could he hope for any influence under the Queen, to whom the Council would bow? Could he promise himself that the present Ministers would impart that power to him under a Queen not likely to be his friend, from which they endeavoured to exclude him now, though possessing the favour of the King? The Ministers were still more jealous of any such bill. As, according to the plan of the last, the great officers in place at the time of the King’s death were to remain of the Council of Regency, Grenville and his adherents concluded that, to prevent such a contingency in their favour, they should immediately be removed. Accordingly those good men who preferred any eventual confusion to the loss of their places, set themselves roundly to work to prevent, or if they could not prevent the proposal, to stir up opposition from every quarter against such a regulation, be it what it might.

Notwithstanding these various obstacles, the necessity of some provision surmounted all impediments; and the very opposition made by the Ministers did but serve to fix the irresolution of the Favourite. I saw that this was the favourable moment for bringing out the half-concealed, and, by consequence, for producing a total, rupture between Lord Bute and the Ministers. I early went to Lord Holland, and asked him why they did not think of a Regency-bill? He said he had pressed it on Lord Bute and Lord Mansfield, but the latter was too timid to propose it. That he himself had written twice to Lord Bute on that subject, and had given him leave to show his letters to the King, which he believed he had not done: himself, however, should not desist from pressing it, as he owned he believed the King in a consumption, and not likely to live a year. We then talked over all the considerable persons, and how their affections would probably lie on such a question. Among others I named Lord Granby, and said, he was wholly Grenville’s. “Yes,” replied Lord Holland, “and should the King die, might, if he had sense enough, be king himself; and now,” said he, “you see the wisdom of not letting any of the princes of the blood be at the head of the Army.” I was not so dull as not to see deeper into this hint. It informed me why Mr. Conway had been removed out of the Army with so much alacrity. It was a context to what Grenville himself had dropped to me on that head, “that the King could not trust his Army in such hands:”—that is, the Court was determined to insure the Army for whatever purposes they might have occasion to employ it in. Another of Lord Bute’s creatures told me about the same time that Grenville was grown too powerful in the House of Commons. I own I did not think the Constitution quite ruined, when the House of Commons could make a Minister formidable to the Crown. These and such like accidental passages discover how deep the views of the Court had gone. How happy for the nation that they who had laid such plans were so unequal to the execution!

A few days afterwards, Lord Holland desired to speak with me. He did not seem to have anything particular to say, but rather to want to sound me on the disposition of my friends in the Opposition; and to learn if, in case of a rupture between Lord Bute and Grenville, they would soften to the former. As I thought any encouragement from the Opposition would inspirit Lord Bute, and hasten his breach with the Ministers, I instilled that assurance as strongly as I could into Lord Holland, who said Lord Bute complained that the Duke of Cumberland and the Opposition were as acrimonious as ever. This was true but in part, for the Duke had already been gained to a certain degree by the King: and as Lord Holland was very inquisitive to know from me on what cause the Duke had been sent for to the King, and had been shut up with him for two hours on the foregoing Sunday, it was a proof that Lord Bute had not that confidence in Lord Holland which the world suspected. I did not then know of that private interview of the King with the Duke. Lord Holland said he guessed it was on the Regency-bill: that he believed the Ministers had not proposed such a bill to the King, but that his Majesty had to them,85 and had ordered them to prepare one. Lord Holland rejoiced at it,—for he feared for the stocks. He repeated over and over that he believed things would remain as they were; but he dropped enough to convince me that that was by no means the intention of Lord Bute. “Things,” he said, “were not ripe yet; many things were wanting: he lamented the death of the late Duke of Devonshire, whose temper was not bitter, and who could have done much: that Opposition resorted to Mr. Pitt, who would have nothing to do with them: that Grenville would be glad to be well with Mr. Pitt, but that he, poor man, was ill in bed.” This tenderness to one he hated so much, was a clear indication that any assistance against the Ministers would be welcome. I soon learned how much farther these wishes had gone than I was then apprized of. I told him he knew enough of the Duke of Newcastle to be sure that the Court might have him whenever they pleased; and as Newcastle governed the Opposition, Lord Bute needed not doubt their concurrence. Still Lord Holland had the weakness to repeat that Lord Bute would be nothing, and meant no change. To facilitate my measures, I had it conveyed to the Bedfords, that the Favourite lost ground; and that Lord Holland was his instigator in promoting the bill,—an idea which I soon found they eagerly adopted, and as eagerly showed their resentment of on the first opportunity.

I imparted to Lord John Cavendish the probability of Mr. Pitt coming into place. He said, “If that should be so, we could no longer oppose: his family would take nothing, but the young Duke would go to Court.” This I reported to Lord Holland: he replied, To be sure, if there was any change, the Duke of Devonshire must be at Court; nor would the King scruple to say he had been in the wrong in refusing to see the late Duke.

At length it was declared that a bill of Regency was intended; but to the great dissatisfaction of mankind, it was declared, too, that the nomination of the Regent would be reserved by the bill in the King’s breast. The crowd instantly conceived that this was a mode of bestowing that important trust on the Favourite; a chimera too wild and much too dangerous to enter into so dastardly a nature as Lord Bute’s. I have no doubt but there was an uniform intention of appointing the Queen Regent; though to save the dignity of the Princess, and to keep up a dubious attention towards her, she might have obtained this palliative, with the contingency too, however improbable, of her outliving, and then occupying the place of the Queen. The Ministers rejoiced at these murmurs; and to pay their court to the Queen, and to mortify the Princess and her favourite, spared no pains to heighten this disgust, which they even pretended to adopt; proceeding so far as to make representations to the King against his keeping the nomination secret. His Majesty was obdurate. At last they obtained that the Regent should be one of the Royal Family: a clear indication of their affecting to suspect that he had had thoughts of Lord Bute for that high office. When this was conceded, and yet the Queen was not named, it seemed to intimate that she was not the person designed. Grenville and the Bedfords were not men to offend by halves, or to halt when they had gained ground. Pursuing their blow, they told his Majesty, that the Queen not being one of the Royal Family, if his Majesty had her in contemplation, it would be requisite to specify her by name. Even this point they carried at last. Yet thus had every step of the former Regency-bill furnished precedents for the most dangerous attempts. A power had been granted to the late King, of adding by his will four persons to the Regent’s Council. As prerogative seldom adheres to the strict letter of a precedent, but builds new pretensions on the slightest foundation, the Crown now, from four secret nominations, had jumped at once to demand a secret nomination of the Regent. Newcastle, one of the three authors86 of the former bill, was still alive to behold its copy, as was also Fox, the opposer of it; but Newcastle now dreaded, and Fox recommended the example!

The four secret nominations in the last bill of Regency had arisen from the resentment of the Dukes of Grafton87 and Dorset,88 Lord Chamberlain, and Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, that their posts were not thought of importance enough to be admitted into the Council of Regency. Yet Dorset would not have profited of the new expedient. It was thought that the four persons on whom the late King had fixed, were the Duke of Grafton, the then Duke of Devonshire, who had retired from business, the Earl of Waldegrave, and Dr. Butler, Bishop of Durham.89 On the majority of the successor, it was supposed that the late King had burned that designation; but his present Majesty told Lord Mansfield that he had found the paper, though he would not disclose who had been the persons specified.

This measure of secret nominations was now revived—no doubt with the view to the admission of Lord Bute to the Council, which the opposition of the Ministers and the temper of the times would not openly allow at that moment. The jealousy occasioned by this step was augmented by no mention being made, in the first concoction of the bill, of his Majesty’s brothers90 and uncle.91 A plan which reserved so much at the disposal of the secret Junto, and which plan was not concerted with, but dictated by the King to his Ministers, could not leave the latter a moment’s doubt of their having lost their influence; nor could fail to point out to them that that influence was restored in its full force to the Favourite. From that moment the Ministers assumed almost the style, entirely the conduct, of Opposition; Rigby scrupled not to say, that, if no opposition was made to the bill, Lord Bute would grow intolerably insolent: and the new Lord Waldegrave92 said artfully to an anti-courtier, “We cannot oppose this bill; but why do not you?” This conduct of the Ministers taught me my lesson. The more they laboured to instigate our party to attack the bill, the more pains I took to dissuade my friends from being warm against it. For six months I had tried to raise effectual war against Lord Bute and the Ministers. The strength of their party when united, and the weakness of ours, had baffled all my endeavours. The happy moment was now come, when discord had declared itself amongst them: and I was sure, whichever division of them should remain in possession of the closet, must court our assistance. I knew my friends too well to think they were numerous or able enough to form an Administration alone. Should the King be reduced to admit them to a participation of power, they had such good principles and such fair characters that they would be a balance to the rest, and might prevent many of the evil designs in agitation. In my opinion I inclined most to Lord Bute; for, though the mischief had sprung originally from him, he had betrayed a pusillanimity that made him far from formidable. Grenville and the Bedfords had as bad principles, better heads, and far more courage. I knew, too, that though my friends, when joined to Lord Bute, might temporize, might be corrupted, or might not be able to obstruct Lord Bute’s views, Grenville and the Bedfords, if once fixed in Opposition, would not be tame and impotent, as we had been. No truth is more certain to me than this; though an Administration ought to be composed of virtuous men, it is by no means desirable that an Opposition should be so. It is so seldom that there are good measures to obstruct, that the mischief done by opposition is small in proportion. It must be remembered, too, that opposition obstructs rather than prevents; and the difficulty on opponents is the greater, if the measures are good; salutary councils making their own way at last, after fascination has vented its poison. But the bad measures of powerful men can only be combated with efficacy by a determined party, equally able to expose their evil tendency, and prompt to venture on any arts to defeat them. Good men weep over their country when they should defend it. Cassius killed the tyrant; Cato, himself. If Lord Bute was again to be Minister, I wished to see Grenville and Sandwich patriots.

The Ministers having struggled in vain, and being reduced at last to support what they could so ill digest, the King, on the 24th of April, went to the House of Lords, and sending for the Commons, recommended to both Houses to provide a bill of Regency93 on the plan of the last, but with this singular and material difference, that his Majesty demanded to be invested with the power of appointing, from time to time, by instruments in writing under his sign manual, either the Queen, or any other person of his Royal Family residing in Great Britain, to be the guardian of his successor, and Regent of these kingdoms, until such successor should attain the age of eighteen years. Thus had the Junto flattered themselves that the transient and loose mention of the Queen’s name would stifle all murmurs, on the supposition that even so vague a designation would make men presume that no other person could be preferred to her Majesty, after a specification that marked her as proper for the trust.

Flattery, more nimble in venting itself than jealousy, poured forth panegyrics on the magnanimity of so young but provident a monarch. His grandfather had dared to eye his own tomb; but could an aged Prince, in conscience, leave his kingdoms and family unprovided of a rule of government? How far more heroic his present Majesty’s firmness, who, in the vigour of youth, reflected on his own mortality, and whose foresight provided against dangers which his most loyal Peers and Commons prayed to Heaven might never be heaped on that bitterest distraction of grief, the loss of his Royal Person!94 In the Upper House the Address was moved by Lord Halifax. In the other, Grenville was not so wrapt in admiration and encomium, but he recollected himself enough to open more of the contents of the bill than were necessary to excite only loyal Hosannahs: and he took care to declare that the measure had flowed from his Majesty, not from the suggestion of his Ministers. The path thus early chalked out to cavil, Nicholson Calvert started some objections, though he would not oppose the Address. Beckford went farther, and said he would not vote for it, as it mentioned the expedience of the bill, to which he did not agree; and then talked much nonsense, of Parliament being the guardians of a minor king. Calvert, who was mad, was convinced by Beckford’s nonsense, and their two were the only dissenting voices; George Onslow having checked the debate by observing that the bill was not yet before them. He, however, and T. Townshend dropped some severe sentences. Grenville and Lord North, who seconded him, were profuse on the moderation of the King in accepting so bounded a civil list, and in establishing the judges for life—proof of dearth of topics for panegyric! I have mentioned how trifling were the advantages which the King had foregone in his revenue. By the patents of the judges, not he, but his successor would be limited. The same measure had been proposed to the late King: he replied, he was content to have no power of displacing the judges himself, but he would not bind his heir.

The scope of the bill being now disclosed, it was incumbent on our party to fix on the measures they would pursue with regard to it. We had accordingly a meeting of the chiefs, at the Duke of Newcastle’s, on the 25th. I found the young men warm against the bill, and full of the idea that it was solely calculated to re-establish the empire of the Princess and the Favourite. They neither knew, nor would listen, to the state of factions in the Court. I told them they were doing the business of the Ministers, who wished for nothing so much as a vigorous opposition to the bill. The only answer I could obtain was, they should lose their characters if they did not oppose. If they did oppose the bill, I thought nothing more likely than that the Ministers should recover the ground they had lost in the closet, by supporting the very bill that they were instigating us to oppose. Nay, in the warmth of debate, the passions of the Ministers themselves might grow heated; and, as men are always most angry with those from whom they have received the latest offence, the Ministers, if roughly attacked as the agents of Lord Bute, might again become so; and he would certainly resent less from those who should carry through his bill, than from those whose enmity was inveterate and unalterable. At best, Grenville and his faction would have leisure to carry on the war against the Favourite, while they saw him and the Opposition grow daily more inveterate. My arguments were all in vain. The listlessness of the party was now converted into blind zeal: and a direct opportunity of reviling the Princess and Lord Bute seemed already to those warm young men a triumph over them. As we parted, I told Lord John Cavendish that I thought it much more for the interest of our country to break the Ministry, than to oppose a single bill; “but,” said I, “there is not a trap the Ministers set for you, but what you fall into”—words that soon proved to be prophetic.

On the 29th the King sent a message to the Lords, desiring, instead of the four secret nominations, to have his four brothers and his uncle95 specified in the bill; reserving only to himself the power of filling up their places if they died. This step seemed to exclude Lord Bute; but if ever he had been designed to be admitted, this measure was only a plausible evasion. Frederick, the youngest prince, was in a deep consumption. The Duke of Cumberland’s life was not less precarious; and without any such contingency, a place in the Cabinet Council would entitle the Favourite to one in the Regency. The bill was then read for the first time. It was followed by another bill sent from the other House, and brought in there by Lord John Cavendish, to oblige Peers and members of Parliament to appear to suits, and to allow suits to proceed, if such privileged persons refused to appear and make answer. This was occasioned by the indecent refusal of Lord Halifax to appear to Wilkes’s complaint. The Ministers had suffered the bill to pass the Commons, intending to have it rejected by the Lords. The Peers had read it twice, and were now going to commit it, when Lord Suffolk96 moved to have it put off for three weeks—Lord Weymouth for two months, a method seldom used before the Committee has attempted to correct a bill. Lord Temple proposed to adjourn the consideration for a week, that their minds might not be diverted from the important consideration of the Regency-bill; but Lord Suffolk’s motion was carried by 61 to 52, though Lord Mansfield and Lord Bute voted for the bill. This was a more explicit declaration of hostilities than the Favourite had yet attempted; at least it was paying court to the Opposition, and canvassing for their support to the Regency-bill. Still so great was the confidence of the Ministers in their own strength, or their want of judgment so capital, that they lost the moment of ruining the Favourite, and of establishing themselves at his expense. Had they peremptorily refused to carry the Regency-bill through, or had they resigned their places, pleading their disapprobation of it, the whole odium had fallen on Lord Bute; and as they would have been joined by the Opposition in that clamour, the Court must have yielded to any terms they had thought fit to impose. Instead of such strenuous conduct, they heaped nothing but disgrace and mortification on their own heads. The Court obtained its bill, however modified, but was equally offended at the Ministers. The nation beheld them with contempt, while they promoted obstruction to a bill, which they confessed they disapproved, and yet submitted to support. They flattered without humouring, impeded without preventing, and offended without hurting. This timid and double conduct they changed into open treachery and provoking insolence, when the moment was come in which they ought to have studied nothing but reconciliation.

On the 30th, the bill was read for the second time. Lord Lyttelton made a fine speech against giving unconstitutional powers, such as that of appointing an unknown person Regent. It was asking them, he said, to put out their own eyes. He hinted a wish of having the Queen named, and was going to make a proposal tending that way, but was stopped by Lord Halifax, for no better reason than that her Majesty might not always be a proper Regent, though she was so then. The Duke of Newcastle having been so deep in the fabrication of the former bill, dared not object to anything similar in the present, and therefore said he had no objection but to the reserve of specifying the Regent, a power that ought not to be entrusted to any King. The Chancellor,97 in his rough style, treated the Duke and the former bill with contempt and acrimony. The last bill, though drawn by all-wise, all-patriotic Ministers, had been, he said, most imperfect. This would correct it. Lord Lyttelton had ascribed the last bill to the late Earl of Hardwicke,98 whom the Chancellor ridiculed, and said it had been calculated for his own power, and that of Newcastle and Pelham: and he asked bluntly why they had not substituted in that bill the Duke of Cumberland in case the Princess had died? That they were guilty, if the faults of the bill had been owing to craft. The Princess had been at that time so long resident in England, that it was reasonable to appoint her Regent. The youth of the Queen and her little acquaintance with the country rendered her less proper. Would their Lordships wish to place her Majesty in so invidious a situation, and wrest her out of her subjection to the King? Who would wish to have his own wife so independent? Would they determine that the same person should be Regent for seventeen years,99 to whom they would entrust such power for three years? The Duke of Newcastle replied, that the age of the present King had been so far advanced as had made no substitution of Regents necessary. He had never known till within a few days, that in the eye of the law the Queen is not of the Royal Family. Lord Shelburne said the Constitution was secure in itself, and knew no minority. Parliament supplied all deficiencies. His objection was not to parts, but to the whole bill. Lord Sandwich said he was informed that our laws made no provision for a minority, but that whoever got possession of the infant King’s person, was King. In that case military force would be most likely to govern. The next thing he should dread would be a democracy: a popular orator,100 backed by turbulent magistrates, might seize the government. Lord Temple said he appealed from Cæsar ill-advised to Cæsar well-advised; was himself of no party, nor connected with any party; was, and had been, against all Regency-bills. Lord Mansfield answered, that the King had heard so much of regencies formerly, that of this bill he had thought himself. If their Lordships did not think a bill of Regency necessary, his Majesty was under a mistake: but he feared they were sowing the dragon’s teeth. By the ancient Constitution the Parliament was dissolved at the King’s death. The Queen or great men secured a majority, and then called a Parliament to confirm their power. Bills of indemnity, restitution, and regency flowed properly from the Crown itself. Regency was a trust, not power. What would be good for his Majesty’s children, would be good for his people. At least there would be a foundation for Government to set out upon: unless it was thought that deliberation would be wiser, when men should be heated by the crisis, than now, when they could coolly provide against a distant period. The Parliament had not acted so negligently in Queen Anne’s reign, but settled a regency, and got stability before the event happened. Last time it had been considered whether it were not wise to make a perpetual act; but it was answered that the bill, then passed, would be a precedent, and change of circumstances might not make exactly the same provisions always proper. Lord Temple shrewdly, and bitterly, with allusion to Lord Mansfield’s friends, family, and supposed principles, asked him, Supposing the Parliament had left to Queen Anne the secret nomination of her successor, whom his Lordship thought she would have appointed?

Between six and seven the House divided, 120 for the bill, and only 9 against it, Newcastle and his whole party retiring, either from shame of contradicting their former conduct, or not being determined to give openly the offence which they had sounded so high in private; or that Newcastle was biassed by the Duke of Cumberland, whom the King had consulted secretly, both on the bill and on the subsequent measures which he wished to pursue. Thus Lord Temple, with his small faction, and one or two of Mr. Pitt’s friends, was deserted, after the most sanguine expectations of a vigorous opposition. He resented this desertion with his usual intemperance; yet what claim had he on the concurrence of those with whom he had sedulously declined all connexion? His resentment on this occasion was, I do not doubt, a leading step to a new alliance into which he soon after hurried. His companions in the vote I have mentioned were the Dukes of Grafton and Bolton, the Earls of Shelburne, Thanet, Ferrers, and Cornwallis, the Viscount Torrington, and Lord Fortescue. The Duke of Grafton’s101 vote thus early pointed out that he looked more towards Lord Chatham than to Newcastle. Lord Lyttelton, more temperate than his cousin Temple, had withdrawn with Newcastle and the others to avoid voting, the Chancellor having forced a division by declaring the non-contents had it. Lord Lyttelton then read his motion to address the King, to name the person or persons whom his Majesty would successively recommend for Regents, as there was no precedent of devising regal power. The Duke of Bedford moved to adjourn the motion till the next day, for which he was grossly abused by the Chancellor, who was averse to all admission of the motion.

On the morrow Lord Lyttelton made his motion accordingly, urging that the Crown cannot devolve its power on unknown persons. Was it prudent to give the King absolute power, on the presumption that he would do nothing but for the good of his successor? Lord Mansfield replied, that giving such power was not contrary to precedent, though not founded on precedent. The usage and precedent of Parliament formerly had been to make no precedent at all. If all the persons substituted should fail, it would be necessary to frame a new bill. It was wise not to let the person designed for Regent be acquainted with that designation. The longer time the King should have to determine on the choice of the person, the better that election would be. The Duke of Richmond,102 though declaring he disapproved of Lord Lyttelton’s motion, said he wished to know who the Royal Family were? He wished to have it defined, or to learn from the judges. Was the Princess Dowager of the Royal Family? Were the Princess Amalie, and the Princess of Hesse103 and her children? Were the hereditary Prince104 and the King of Prussia?105 The hereditary Prince had been naturalized: might he, if resident in England, be Regent? How long time constitutes residence? He should not like the Prince for Regent, though it was indifferent to him who was so, for he hoped the laws were sufficient. By the Act of Settlement her Majesty could not be Regent: nor could she, though naturalized; for an act of naturalization must have a disqualifying clause, or is invalid. Had her Majesty been naturalized? His Grace declared himself of no opposition; that he hated and had always opposed opposition. Lord Denbigh pronounced that all who are prayed for by the Common Prayer-book are of the Royal Family. Would it be prudent, he asked, to put a question to the judges before the bill was framed? By her marriage, he thought the Queen was naturalized of course. Lord Pomfret with great violence opposed the motion, but was called to order by Lord Lyttelton for having quoted the speeches and vote of the preceding day, the latter declaring that he acted from conscience, not by concert. The Duke of Grafton professed great gratitude to the King for the bill; though, when framed, it must be considered as the act of the Ministers; and that, unless it was perfect, it were better to have no bill. It could not please the people, for everything was left in doubt. It took from the King the joy of seeing the whole nation pleased with the nomination of her Majesty. Would not this be casting a slur on her? Though built on the last bill, the present, with regard to her, widely differed. On the sixteenth of the month the Queen would be twenty-one. The delay of a single fortnight would have seen her of age. The bill was precipitated now after it had been declared that all business was over. Lord Mansfield said, mysteriously, that he had his private opinion on who are of the Royal Family; but he should not declare it. (He and the Chancellor had both told the King that neither the Queen nor the Princess Dowager were of the Royal Family.) Lord Talbot, who had opposed the bill of the last reign, said he had liked on the preceding day to see certain Lords (Newcastle, &c.) in the majority, when they did not direct the majority. He hoped this motion would not be mentioned out of the House, lest it should get into seditious papers. He thought the present bill left too little power to the Regent: it must be the Queen. He understood the Royal Family to be the Queen, the Princess Dowager, the royal dukes, and the Princess Amalie. Lord Shelburne spoke well for decision and precision. It is urged, said he, that the King can have no views: what views could Parliament have, but the security of liberty and property? The Duke of Bedford said it was great condescension in the King to limit the Council of Regency to a certain number: but the Act ought not to be irrevocable for sixteen years together. He looked on the Royal Family to be those who are in the order of succession one after another, and usually resident here in England. (This definition was evidently laid down to exclude the Princess Dowager.) The Administration had no merit or demerit by this act; it was purely the deed of his Majesty. Lord Egmont106 said it must be more agreeable to the Queen to be named Regent by the King than by Parliament (a poor argument, as the recommendation of the King must have been more agreeable to her than silence out of respect to his mother). The Opposition supposed possible infirmities in his Majesty: could there be none in the Queen? More respect had been shown to her than to him. Lord Dartmouth summed up very ably all the arguments of the courtiers; and concluded with observing in answer, that some few would certainly know whom the King destined for Regent, and might form their intrigues accordingly. The motion had indeed taken its rise from the Crown, but he supposed his Majesty had taken advice on the mode.

The House then divided, and Lord Lyttelton’s motion was rejected by 89 to 31; Newcastle and his friends, and the Bishops attached to him, chiefly forming the minority: Lord Temple sullenly staid away.

But while the debate had been going on, an event happened which gave birth to all that followed. The Duke of Richmond had drawn up a question which he intended to put to the judges, to ascertain who were persons of the Royal Family. He had stated the Princes and Princesses in their order of succession. I happened to be standing on the steps of the throne: the Duke showed me the sketch of his motion. I observed that he had omitted the Princess Dowager; and instantly reflecting, from the behaviour of the Ministers, and from what has just dropped from the Duke of Bedford, that they wished to exclude her from the possibility of being Regent; and concluding, too, that if she was stated as one of the Royal Family, they would be rash enough to oppose it, I said, “My Lord, your Grace is not in Opposition, and do not mean any offence by this motion: why then do not you insert the name of the Princess? By omitting her she will think you purposely intend to affront her.” The Duke was struck with my advice and inserted the Princess’s name. The Ministers, more violent and insolent than even I had expected them to be, plunged headlong into the snare I had laid for them; and as will soon be seen, wantonly, cruelly, and treacherously, gave such provocation, both to the King and Princess, as scarce the most intemperate Opposition could have been guilty of.

The Duke of Richmond then read to the House his intended motion,107 and proposed that the judges should be ordered to attend on the morrow. Lord Mansfield said it would be better to correct the words of the bill: the judges could not be consulted till some words were settled. He would not point out any words, lest he should pledge his opinion for the passing them. The Duke of Richmond replied, the words had been proposed by the King—and was going to proceed; but Lord Sandwich, already alarmed at the name of the Princess, suddenly moved the House to adjourn.

On the 2nd of May the Duke made his motion. The Chancellor said, he had been too much fatigued to answer his Grace the day before. The question was now, whether the Queen could be naturalized? Himself would be for rejecting the bill if her Majesty could not be Regent. He thought she was naturalized by her marriage, and incorporated one of the Royal Family, the Christian religion having been adopted into the common law. By a law of Edward III. all the King’s children are naturalized whereever born. That her Majesty was not disabled by the acts of William III., or George I. If she was not effectually naturalized, she had got a bad settlement for her jointure. The clause in the Act of Settlement was futile, for one Parliament cannot bind a succeeding one. However, if any doubt remained, he hoped his opinion would not be conclusive, but that the judges would be consulted. He could not tell who were of the Royal Family; but he knew who were not—the Pretender and his sons. He desired to have the Princess understood to be of the Royal Family. The other branches, while they have an establishment abroad, were not within the present Act. If the hereditary Prince should die, and his Princess come over, she would be within the Act. The Duke of Richmond replied, that if there was nothing positive in the common law to show the Queen was ipso facto naturalized, there was in the statute law to prove the contrary: and therefore asked, if part of the clause in the Act of George I. must not be repealed? That clause declaring, that no person naturalized could hold land or office, and enjoining that they should not be naturalized without such a clause. Many doubts, he said, had already been expressed in the House, whether the Princess was of the Royal Family: without doors there were still more doubts. He had been stopped the day before by a trick of adjournment. Lord Mansfield had owned he had an opinion, but would not declare it: it was therefore the more necessary to have that uncertainty cleared away, for which end he had a motion ready drawn in his hand.

The House then resolving itself into a committee, the Duke proposed to state his amendment, unless their Lordships would consult the judges. The Chancellor said, it would be improper to ask the judges who are of the Royal Family, but not whether the Queen was naturalized. The judges could only interpret laws passed. Lord Halifax pretending to plead against delay, laboured to prevent the Duke from stating any question that might declare the Princess of the Royal Family; but Richmond, with inimitable firmness and address, maintained his ground, and moved to insert the words Her Royal Highness the Princess Dowager and others descended from the late King, now resident in England; though Lord Halifax had tried to substitute a distinction between a Royal Family of consanguinity, and a Royal Family of affinity. After a long squabble the Duke’s motion was rejected, and the ministerial party having allowed that the judges might be consulted on the Queen’s naturalization, Lord Folkestone moved to put the question to them on the morrow. Lord Mansfield, from fear of being pressed to give the answer he had given to the King, or to change it, or from some apprehension equally unworthy of his situation, absented himself. The Chancellor appeared there, as has been seen, and contradicted himself.

On the 3rd the Judges, by the mouth of the Lord Chief Justice Pratt, declared that the Queen was naturalized by her marriage, and capable of being Regent; but how great was the astonishment of mankind at what followed! Lord Halifax, hastening impetuously into the House, went up to the Duke of Richmond, and asked if his Grace was satisfied? The Duke replied, “By no means: you have rejected my motion and left my doubt in full force.” “Then, my Lord,” said Lord Halifax, “if you will move it again, I will satisfy you”—and standing up in his place, he delivered an intimation (not a message) that it would be agreeable to his Majesty to have the bill recommitted; which being complied with, Lord Halifax, on the same mysterious authority, proposed to insert the motion of the Duke of Richmond, rejected the day before, specifying the several persons of the Royal Family, only omitting the Princess Dowager.108 This wonderful proposal took place instantaneously; and, it being early in the day, several Lords and others, whose curiosity was carrying them to see the conclusion of so interesting a scene, met the Ministers returning from the House with exultation at their success; and could scarce believe, and less comprehend, the meaning of so daring and improbable an enterprize.

Daring in truth it was, and perhaps not to be paralleled. The fact happened thus:—Lord Halifax109 and Lord Sandwich (the latter of whom had probably machinated so treacherous a step) had posted to Buckingham House a little hour before the Lords assembled, and surprising the King alone, had most falsely, and contrary to all likelihood, assured him, that the House of Commons would certainly strike the name of the Princess Dowager out of the bill; and therefore that the most decent and prudent method to save the honour of his Majesty and her Royal Highness would be, for his Majesty to permit it to be hinted to the Lords, that he himself desired their Lordships would omit his mother’s name, before they transmitted the bill to the Commons. The young inexperienced monarch, taken by surprise, alarmed at the insult announced, and not having time, or not having presence of mind to demand time for consulting his mother and his Favourite, answered with good-nature, that he would consent if it would satisfy his people. The traitors seized that assent, and, hurrying away with double rapidity to the House of Lords, procured in the very name of their master that indelible stigma on his own mother!

Intoxicated as they were with presumption, or blind with the thirst of revenge, still it is hard to conceive how the Ministers dared to venture on so provoking and desperate an insult. Could the King pardon such an insult on his understanding, or the Princess submit to such an affront to her dignity and character? Could the Crown retain a shadow of power without discarding such servants? Could the wildness of Opposition have imagined such an act of aspersion, or have found a sufficient number so destitute of hopes and of flattery, as to fix a stain on the whole royal blood? That Sandwich should have conceived a plot so base, especially when surprise and stratagem were to be the ingredients, was not marvellous: that Grenville should have embraced it, and lost all sight of ambition in the glut of his revenge, proved what dominion every bad passion had over him in its turn; that the Duke of Bedford should have closed with it, was but another instance of the empire his associates had over a mind naturally good—that none of the connexion, composed of men devoted to fortune, should have started at a proposition so big with ruin to their hopes of favour, evinced that when they had lost sight of honesty and decorum, they flattered themselves that no position could be so desperate, from which they might not recover by as bad arts as those which brought them into the dilemma. Their subsequent conduct showed that they were determined to storm the Cabinet they could not retain by address.

It is not less worthy of remark that this bill, so carefully planned to save the honour or humour of the Princess, became the instrument of loading her with disgrace; while the Duke of Cumberland and the King’s brothers, who had been sedulously passed over in silence, saw themselves reinstated in the very bill from which the Princess was alone excluded: the Queen, who had been sacrificed to the jealousy of her mother-in-law, was the sole person that reaped both honour and a certain view of power from an act in which she had been so little respected. The Duke of Bedford and Lord Sandwich were overturned by this, as they had been by the last bill of Regency in the preceding reign.110

Debates in the House of Commons on the Regency Bill.

The bill thus wonderfully modified was sent to the House of Commons, where it was read the first time without a word of animadversion or notice. In fact, the extraordinary step taken by the Ministers had occasioned such consternation, that no man was ready to decide what part he would take. As my views had been so fully answered by the hostilities into which I had drawn the Ministers against the Court, I wished my friends to lie by, and wait the event of that quarrel. The Duke of Cumberland, who had been secretly applied to by the King for his protection against the Ministers, and who was content with seeing the Princess thus publicly branded, and consequently divested of all hope of being Regent, was desirous, too, that the Opposition should give no farther impediment to the bill. By his direction Lord Albemarle prevailed on his brother, Admiral Keppel, on Admiral Saunders, General Honeywood, and others of the military, to declare they were satisfied and would go no farther. But there was a head so incomparably wrong and obstinate, that no discretion, no address, no salutary counsel, could regulate or restrain its determinations. This was Lord John Cavendish, the most conceited and self-willed young man I ever knew, and whose love of rule would listen to no advice that crossed his own ideas. He insisted on making Lord Lyttelton’s motion for naming the Queen Regent, and intended to move it at the first reading of the bill. Mr. Conway no sooner came into the House, than Lord John took him aside to persuade him to concur in that measure. I observed this, and followed them. Fitzroy111 and Honeywood joined us, and declared against it. Mr. Conway was staggered, and advised deferring the motion till the day of the commitment. We agreed to meet at night at Sir George Saville’s; but I would not go, being determined not to act with them in such ill-timed hostilities, and knowing I should have more weight with Conway in a private conversation, than in a tumultuous debate; but I prepared Fitzroy, and sent him warm to the meeting: having hinted to him that I could see no reason why the Duke of Devonshire’s youngest brother should govern the Duke of Grafton’s brother. Fitzroy went and repeated the opinion of the officers against the motion. Lord John said, rudely, it was to save their commissions. Mr. Conway yielded, and the motion was resolved on. Yet, Lord John’s brothers, George and Frederick, and Admiral Keppel, all repeated their opinion to me, and complained of Lord John’s warmth. Lord Rockingham, though much swayed by Lord John, I shook; then went to Mr. Conway, where I found the last. He was more obstinate than ever, and said he wished the Opposition was reduced to six or seven, who could depend on one another. I smiled and said, “I was too old to wait on his Lordship to Utica.”

May 7th. The bill was read a second time, and Lord John made his motion to address the King, to name the Regent;112 but it was so thinly and feebly supported, that they could not divide for it. De Grey, the Solicitor-General, was so good a courtier, that on this emanation of the King’s mind, as he called it, he declared he would be against the bill, if the Regent was named. T. Townshend observed that the nomination was to be testamentary, and yet no witnesses to it. That though a living king might be complimented with the attributes of divinity, everybody knew how little respect was paid to a dead king; and then, laughing at De Grey, he said, “If in these times of no Cabal, no ambition, (the Solicitor’s words,) we could settle no provision, would it be more possible in future? or would the House imitate the Parliaments of Henry VIII., which gave him power both over religion and the succession? George Grenville expressed respect to Lord John, but asked how any man who was against the whole bill, could approve of that motion? was this an unlimited power? The King could name a very small number as the bill now stood. This bill had been framed after those drawn by Lord Somers and Lord Hardwicke. The testamentary instruments were to be sealed by three great officers, and much form to be used in recalling them. Would you address the King to name all the future substitutions that he might make? There was no precedent, it was said, of such a bill—was there any of such an address? The motion went to an unrestrained nomination. Should the King name, would the House not confirm it?—and then what a precedent would there be! Lord John Cavendish replied, that he was not against the whole bill, though he disapproved many of the clauses. Yet they who disliked the whole would be consistent, as they might desire to make it as perfect as might be, though they could not obtain all they wished. At present, the King might revoke his nomination, and yet omit to substitute another person. For himself, he still disliked any secret nomination. T. Townshend, too, said, that if the address was carried, the House would not be tied down to approve any improper person. Onslow went farther, and said, that in a vacancy the throne was elective. Charles Yorke, that if the King was out of the kingdom, his power was defective. A general bill for all times could not be framed. The judges thought that the grandchildren of the Crown were not the children of the Crown. Yet all the King’s family should look up to the King, and ought not to be made independent of him. Colonel Onslow said, he would appoint the people father of the child, till the child could be the father of them. Mawbey offered to second any man who would expressly name the Queen; but that proposal and the motion for the address were almost unanimously rejected. James Grenville then objected to the commitment of the whole bill, though he was not against all Regencies, but had heard none such as he should like described. Colonel Barré was for a Regency, but saw no precision in the proposed bill. Should there be no bill, what power could punish a bold man that should engross the government? The house would punish him who was as bold and daring as any man. (This seemed meant at Lord Bute, though much more true of Grenville.) He was against the King’s power, of naming the Regent. It was a bad measure, having so many capital figures in it. He was an enemy to adulation, but must ask, if men, who would give up their rights under a good prince, were likely to reclaim them under a bad one? If the Queen was intended for Regent, let the House meet the wishes of their Sovereign and name her. If her Majesty was ambitious, she might have availed herself of this bill. Yet he believed she had both art and ambition, but had used them for no end but to make her consort adored. Was that a reason for excluding her? This bill had no stamp of royalty in it. All the King’s acts had tended to decrease his prerogative. This was a ministerial bill. Nor Somers nor Hardwicke had proposed a secret nomination. Cardinal Beaton had read a paper to his dying master, and passed it off for the King’s act: such an artifice might be repeated. In the Council of Regency the Princes might outvote the Queen. Should the Queen die in three or four years, was the King’s nomination to take place of the wisdom of Parliament then sitting? He declared that in his military capacity he would serve with fidelity, but in the House would oppose what he held was not for the King’s good. Norton, the Attorney-General, declared that the Parliament appointed to sit for six months after the King’s death might sit, or not, at the option of the Crown. Wedderburn, boasting that he dated his principles from the Revolution, said he approved the bill, because copied from those times. They had delegated power to unknown persons by establishing a Regency of such as should be in possession of the great offices at the death of Queen Anne. General Conway approved of sending the bill to the committee out of respect, and in order to try to amend it; but thought the power to be granted worse than the want of provision. It was not unconstitutional to make provision against accidents, but it was so to make bad provision. The King would now be empowered to name for the whole sixteen years that his son might be a minor. For the House of Lords, he said, they had deliberated without concluding, and then concluded without deliberating. Grenville said, that not going into the committee would be putting an end to all bills of Regency. If the difference of opinion was so great already, what would it be on the King’s death, if no provision were made? It was unconstitutional to say that King, Lords, and Commons could not repeal any act. Had not they repealed two-thirds of Magna Charta, particularly in the case of wards and liveries? For himself, he dreaded some great military man (the Duke of Cumberland), and thought he already heard the lion roar. Onslow replied, that a Secretary of State, ready with head and hand to execute General Warrants, was more formidable than a King, who was popular by deserving to be so. The bill was committed, and the House rose at nine o’clock without a division.

I went the next day to the Duke of Newcastle; he saluted me with saying how much he was against my opinion of absenting ourselves from the House (which I had proposed the day before, when I found I could not restrain our party otherwise). It would ruin our characters, he said, to keep away;—(I could scarce refrain from laughing at hearing him talk of character)—and that if we did not oppose in the House of Commons, the Duke of Bedford would not in the House of Lords—(this was founded on the report of Morton intending to move for reinstating the name of the Princess). “And do you think, my Lord,” replied I, “that the Duke of Bedford will oppose if we do? I know he will not; and I will tell your grace what will happen; the very reverse of what you expect. Instead of being against the Princess, you will be included in a vote for her. No mortal will speak against her: if nobody does, there will be no division, and thus you will vote for her.” He was struck, and said he was sorry, but the young men would have it so. I said, “My Lord, why do not you govern your young people, and not let them govern you?” He replied: “They all say they will be governed by me sooner than by anybody, except where their conscience directs;” however, he would go and talk it over with Lord Rockingham. I then went to Mr. Conway and told him what had passed. I said “I saw we were all to be governed by a raw obstinate vain boy; that I found I had no weight; and though I would vote with them once more, if we were drawn into a division on the Princess, that they might not say I deserted them from interested views, yet it should be the last time; and I would go to the House no more. That he gave up his opinion to Lord John, though he would not to me; and that if Lord John did but whistle the words honour and virtue, he could turn him (Conway) which way he pleased.” Mr. Conway complained of my warmth, and said Lord John had given up the question on the army at our desire, (which was true,) that for his part he desired no place, and liked very well to act with a few. “And how long,” said I, “do you think they will let a few only act? What are we doing? or why? is it not for our country? If we can serve it better by silence than by speaking, is not it preferable?” He said he preferred his character and the Cavendishes to his country. “Then,” said I, “I would never have embarked with any of you, had I known you only acted for the applause of the mob.” However, I made no impression on him but by one argument; and by that not enough. I said, “If you force a division against the Princess, you will have very few with you. Those few will hate you for it. Most of your friends will leave you, as they did last night, by which you discovered to the Ministers your weakness, and the divisions in your party. If you force most of your friends to abandon you, as most men will, by so ungentleman-like, outrageous, provoking, and unjustifiable an act, as stigmatizing the King’s mother, for which you cannot give a plausible, and dare not give the true reason,—(for will any of you venture to allege what none of you can prove, her intrigue with Lord Bute?)—you demolish the party at once. Those of you who shall vote against the Princess will abuse those who vote for her, as influenced by mercenary views; and thus, when you have once made them desperate, and shall have forced them to have merit with her, they will of course adhere to her whom they have been courting. I have divided the Ministry by suggesting to the Duke of Richmond to name the Princess: you are going to give the Ministers an opportunity of recovering the ground they have lost, by defending her against you.” “Why,” said Mr. Conway, “if the Ministers should break, to which division would you go?” “Certainly,” said I, “to Lord Bute and Mr. Pitt, rather than to the Bedfords.” He declared he should prefer the latter. In short, we did not agree at all; though he said all he could to soften me, and expressed the greatest concern at differing with me: but it was so material not to suffer Lord John’s inexperience and folly to govern the party, that I determined to make my stand there; for I saw that young man’s rashness was capable of over-turning in an instant all I had been planning for six months. I first had tried to form a party to overthrow the Administration, Bute, Grenville, Bedfords, and all. When I found the Opposition too weak and too foolish to compass that, I turned to the next best thing, dividing Bute and the Ministers. In that I succeeded; and then saw all my schemes and labours on the point of being blasted by a silly boy, who, when all I had foreseen happened, had not a word to say for himself. Thus did I perceive how vexatious it was to live with many fools and not with enough! I did not forget the lesson: it took deep root, and was the first inducement to me to form a resolution of quitting politics. Other events contributed; and I was wise enough not to throw away those fruits of my experience. Yet, before I quitted the scene, I had the pleasure of accomplishing all the views that first set me in motion, of demolishing a dangerous Administration, of humbling Grenville and the Bedfords, and of convincing Lord John Cavendish, that it had been more prudent not to provoke me by attempting to interfere with my influence with Mr. Conway. With regard to the Duke of Newcastle, whom I had always despised, and with whom a common cause had obliged me to act, I did find how well-grounded my contempt of him had been, and to how little purpose it was to act with him. He was always eager, but never ready: delighted in talking over measures, but knew not how to begin or pursue them; and was as happy in seeming to lead an ineffectual party, as he had been in governing the nation. He thought he possessed secrets if he did but whisper, or was whispered to. Attendance on him was his supreme joy; and if two of the party came to him on the same business, he made one of them wait, to wear an air of mystery to both. There never was a man who loved power so much, and who could enjoy the shadow with the same content, when the substance was gone. Nor is it less remarkable, that, though favour at Court was the object of his life, he began it with insulting the Prince of Wales (George II.), and concluded it with affronting the Princess Dowager.

Debates on the Regency-bill.—The Princess Dowager’s name reinserted in the Bill.—Bill for altering the Duties on Italian Silks.—Riots of the Weavers on its introduction.—Projected change in the Ministry.

On May the 9th, the House went into committee on the bill. Rose Fuller said he would not opiniate the point, but declared he was against the precedent of appointing an unknown person Regent; not against any of the persons that had been named as qualified: yet surely none of them were so proper as the Queen. Should a younger brother be appointed by his Majesty’s will, it would offend the elder. So had the Parliament thought in the minority of Henry VI., with regard to the Dukes of Bedford and Gloucester. It was the more necessary to name the Queen, as he had heard of another motion going to be made. Everybody, therefore, would understand the reason of his motion. He moved, accordingly, to insert the name of the Queen, instead of the words such persons; and was seconded by Mr. Onslow, and by Sir W. Meredith, who declared he had intended to make the same motion. It was objected to by Burrell,113 who said, the Duke of Cumberland’s name had not stood in the original bill; had been inserted on after-thought; would the House omit him now? Lord George Sackville said, he had been against even the respectful manner in which Lord John Cavendish had proposed to address the King to name the person he should wish for Regent: he was much more against the present motion. In history there was no precedent worth following. His Majesty was tied by parental affection to name the Queen, and was best qualified to know his own family, and who would be most proper for the office. If his youngest brother was best qualified, let him be named. Let the whole family be taught to pay their court to and imitate the King. Conway replied, that the power now to be given was a compliment to all future kings. Would Parliament be able to say, We trusted this power to George III. for his virtues, and refuse it to any other king, though vicious. The young Princes of the blood might prove ambitious. The bill itself would be of no force if the King should leave the nomination not filled up. No provision was made against such a contingency. When the late King went abroad, he always left a private letter empowering the Lords of the Regency to fill up places. In that reign though the Duke of Cumberland was so proper for Regent, yet his present Majesty’s mother had been preferred—let the House therefore imitate that sole precedent. Dempster opposed the motion, yet with passing general censures. He did not approve, he said, all the Ministers had done, particularly the dismission of General Conway. He did not approve the oriental adulation heaped on the birth of this bill; he saw nothing so heroic in it. He did not approve the power entrusted to the Regency of continuing the Parliament for three years. Lord North urged that the motion was unnecessary, because everybody knew there would be no person named against whom the House could have any objection. Sir George Saville said, he was astonished to hear that uncertainty was the parent of security, and certainty of uproar and confusion. He was afraid of delegating new powers; he rejected all arguments founded on personal considerations. He felt them as strongly as anybody, but they were false, unlogical, and unfair. All the persons declared capable, were proper; but while there was one more proper, the rest were improper. Lord Frederick Campbell said, the motion tended to appoint a person with greater power than the King’s. Dowdeswell replied, that the powers given by the bill were not new powers to supply the defects of a minority, but new powers granted to the King. Should he appoint an improper person, who could stand up to object to such great persons? He wished he could see any general bill of Regency; but when such difficulties were started on these bills, he feared future kings and ministers would recommend no more bills, therefore he wished to see a general one. He did not know which he feared most, the union or the disunion of the Royal Family. George Grenville said, he had the highest authority for declaring that the powers to be granted to his Majesty would be executed immediately, and the public would know they were. “Would it be only sealing the instrument,” Colonel Barré asked, “or would the person named for Regent be known?” “I said,” replied Grenville, “the powers would be executed, and that it would be known they were; not the person.” “The Crown knows,” said Colonel Barré again, “that we are no Parliament of Paris, but proposes matters to us, and we ought to show what we think of them. Queen Mary asked the same power as had been granted to her father, and was refused. It shows, therefore, how ready the Crown is to take advantage of precedents. The princes of the blood might grow to court the Ministers; it was a bill to encourage faction. Whither could the power be carried, where it would be less likely to do mischief than to the Queen! By not naming her, the House must suppose the Queen might not be Regent, and so her children would be torn from her by the will of her consort. Perhaps the King wished to induce the Parliament to name the Queen, that the Parliament might then be bound to support her. Mr. Dowdeswell had asked, whether, on an improper person being named, the Parliament would object? Yes; even in the reign of Charles II. the Parliament had spoken out. Grenville, he believed, had not drawn the bill. It came from a quarter that made it wear all the marks of ministerial distraction.” Whencesoever it had issued, he believed those of his profession (the military) would reap all the harvest. Averse as he was to the Ministry, the bill, he thought, would torture them more than they deserved. The motion was rejected at six o’clock by 258 to 67.

As soon as the division was over, and while the House was expecting Morton’s114 motion, Mr. Conway came to me and said he would go away with me, as would Sir William Meredith and others; and that they would not vote in the question on the Princess, but on the third reading of the bill, when their vote would not be personal to her. I immediately went out, but found nobody followed me. I did not like to be single, and returned, but at last carried Mr. Conway away. In the meantime, Morton and Kynaston,115 a noted Jacobite, moved to reinstate the Princess’s name in the bill. Samuel Martin, a servant of the Princess, and known from his duel with Wilkes, spoke strongly for that measure; declared he was totally unauthorized, and believed her Royal Highness averse to be named. The bill, he found, had been altered, by what means he did not know; nor was it proper to tell if he did. He must suppose the alteration came from nowhere but the other House. None of the Royal Family but the Princess were excluded. If the Queen should die, who would be so proper for a Regent as her Royal Highness? Why did the other House stigmatize or put a brand on her? And then looking at Grenville, he said, the Princess had had occasion to see the professions made to her were not from the heart. Dr. Blackstone spoke in the same behalf, as did the younger George Onslow, who beseeched his friends to look on him with an eye of pity, for being forced to differ with them from conscience. In case of the Queen’s death, the Princess, by law, was the most proper person to replace her. The more persons capable of the Regency, the worse; but when all the rest were named in the bill, he could not consent to exclude her Royal Highness. His cousin took the other side, but called God to witness that he intended no personality. He had been for the nomination of the Queen, and now thought the smaller the number the better. He had heard the Secretary of State had procured the omission of the Princess. This occasioned his being called to order. Sir John Rushout, as the ancient oracle of the House, declared that Onslow might say what he had heard from common fame, but might not say he had heard it himself. Onslow, on that authority, affirmed he had been told that the Secretary of State did not make the motion for omission of the Princess by private authority; and on that authority he desired explanation. Had the House of Commons received such a message, it would have quieted them. The present motion was cruel to the Princess: the correction in the House of Lords, he was persuaded, was not personal. Had the Duke of York been omitted, his own objection to restoring the Duke’s name would have been the same. Grenville116 replied, that the words moved by Lord Halifax were inserted to prevent doubt: himself had thought they would not be disagreeable to her Royal Highness—hoped they were not—thought they would be universally acceptable—thought there had been authority for the omission, but found there was not; would concur in any compliment to the mother of his sovereign.

This cold, half-owning, half-denying speech, completed Grenville’s ruin with the Princess. Martin vowed to God he did not know her opinion on the question, and was believed as much as Grenville and Onslow had been. Morton more artfully said, that if her Highness had intended to send a message to the House, it would not have been by so insignificant a man as himself. Onslow said, he hoped it would not be interpreted as if he meant to brand the Princess. Whoever used that term, branded the House of Lords. Lord Palmerston gave a strong dissent to the motion, though he owned the situation was disagreeable. The Princess, he said, was excluded by a great and general line. The motion then passed without a division, but with several No’s. Equally to the disgrace of both sides, the Ministers servilely revoking what they had insolently and unjustifiably done; the Opposition withstanding the reparation, yet not daring to avow,—nay, disavowing the very motive of the obstruction they gave.

I had thus, as I flattered myself, prevented the greater number of our friends from personally offending the Princess. My arguments and their own interest had kept many from the House. I did not doubt but the Ministers would be dismissed, if the Court found that it had hopes of mollifying the Opposition. But the next morning I perceived the vertigo was returned with fresh force. On going to the House, Sir William Meredith told me that Onslow was determined to put it to a division on the report, encouraged by the many negatives on the Princess’s question. This was judging weakly, for many would cry “No!” who would not have voted, when they would have been personally distinguished by a division. He added, that Forester, the Duke of Bedford’s lawyer, had laughed at them for not dividing. I was not the dupe of that art; the less as Rigby had been the first to acquaint Mr. Conway with Morton’s intended motion; and to draw in our party, the Bedford faction had given out that Forester would oppose the re-establishment of the Princess’s name. Lord Rockingham confirmed this intelligence—agreed with me, but said he could not prevail on the Duke of Newcastle, on whom I found the Bedfords had contrived to make the impression they wished. Sir William Meredith added that Onslow had said to him over night, “I believe you, Conway, and T. Townshend acted from conscience, but all the rest from interest.” I replied, “Sir William, Onslow may say what he pleases, yet he will accept a place before I shall. I had rather be taxed with self-interest, than call God to witness I mean no personality, when I am doing the most personal thing in the world.” Provoked at this new absurdity, I went away, depending that Mr. Conway, who had retired with me the day before, and had promised me not to vote against the Princess, would be firm to his promise; yet when the question came on, he had the weakness, though he tried to prevent a division, to vote with the Cavendishes against her. They pretended to desire he would not, but knew how much the fear of their silent reproaches would operate on him.117 Newcastle’s people were violent, and insisted on a division, driven on by John White,118 an old republican, who governed both Newcastle and Lord John Cavendish, and who hoped this vote would divide the Opposition from Mr. Pitt, whom White hated, and who he certainly knew would never personally affront the Court. Yet after all their hopes, the result of this intemperate measure was a contemptible minority of 37. What was more unlikely, Rigby retired, and did not vote with the majority, though he had declared nothing should make him vote against the Princess. Her triumph would have been complete, if anything could have effaced the affront she had received, and which must remain on record. What the few Whigs in that little minority could plead in their defence, was difficult to say. They had loudly condemned the motion for removing Sir Robert Walpole on public fame, and now endeavoured to stigmatize the Princess on the same ground, without daring even to assign it as a pretence. The conduct of the Ministers was still more double; and many believed that the Duke of Cumberland’s hatred of the Princess had drawn him at last to concur with the Bedfords in instigating Newcastle to this measure. Grenville scarce concealed his sentiments; and Lord Burghersh telling him he would go away, rather than vote with the Tories, unless he, Grenville, desired him not; the latter bade him follow his own inclination—he stayed and voted against the Princess.

After some other clauses proposed and rejected, the Bill passed at eleven at night. During the debate Onslow attacked Charles Townshend, (who had spoken for the Court,) and congratulated the Treasury-bench on their acquisition. Townshend replied in one of his best speeches, but with his usual want of judgment, boasted of his own steadiness for sixteen years; saying, “Surely, in these times, with a little common sense, I might have been dependent if I had pleased.” The answer was obvious—“With a little common sense you might.”

Rose Fuller declared that if the motion for reinstating the Princess was rejected, he, to show his impartiality, would move to omit her Royal Highness’s daughters and Princess Amalie. It was said with humour, that would be like Lord Anglesey, who beating his wife,119 she said, “How much happier is that wench (pointing to a housemaid) than I am!” He immediately kicked the maid down stairs, and then said, “Well! there is at least one grievance removed.”

On the 13th, the bill, returned from the Commons, with the name of the Princess Dowager reinserted, was read in the House of Lords, and the Ministers were to swallow the amendment, and palliate their past conduct as well as they could. The task was allotted to Lord Sandwich. He owned Lord Halifax’s amendment had met with his hearty concurrence, and he had expected it would have passed through both Houses unanimously: had thought it would be disapproved of by no person whatever. But whether that amendment or the correction of it should take place, the great point would be obtained of ascertaining who were the persons capable of the Regency. He hoped, therefore, their Lordships would agree to the correction sent up from the other House. Parliament could not mean to exclude the Princess, if it would be disagreeable to her Royal Highness, or to any other person: the sole meaning had been to remove doubts. Should he himself adhere to the former words, he should be inconsistent, for those words had no longer the same meaning; but he had thought the amendment would have been universally approved. He had meant to establish any description that would be agreeable to the King and people. It was now of consequence to be unanimous in re-establishing the name of her Royal Highness.

By Sandwich and Grenville dwelling so much upon the expectation they had conceived, that the omission of the Princess would be universally approved, it was plain they had flattered themselves with acquiring such popularity by that act, that the King would not dare to remove them. This had driven them on the outrage they had committed. The event proved just the contrary of what they had expected. Obnoxious as the Princess was, the heinousness of the insult to her, and of the treachery to the King, shocked all mankind, and seemed doubly offensive in men from whom the King had a right to expect defence, and who had plunged so deep into the most arbitrary and unpopular measures. It was not by their hands that the nation wished to see the Princess and Favourite humbled. The same fate attended Sandwich now, that had pursued the discovery of the “Essay on Woman.” The profaneness of Wilkes, and the unpopularity of the Princess, were forgotten in the more odious means employed to disgrace them.

The Duke of Richmond took notice that the words now inserted by the House of Commons were precisely the same with those he had moved himself, and was glad they were likely to be agreed to; yet when he had proposed them, Lord Sandwich had moved to adjourn. His own wish had tended to precision; and his view, to pass the act in the manner most agreeable to the King. When Lord Halifax had brought other words, he had concluded those words were agreeable to his Majesty, for he believed Lord Halifax incapable of deceiving the King or the House (this was pointed at Lord Sandwich). He had now heard that their Lordships must eat their words; and that what had happened was a stigma on her Royal Highness. Surely that was not paying court to her: such assertions had more zeal than judgment in them; and were injurious to the House. Lord Sandwich replied, that he had moved to adjourn, because the question had been too great to be determined suddenly: he had not been against the Duke’s motion. He knew of nothing injurious from the other House.

The Duke of Portland120 disagreed with the new amendment, because he recollected, he said, the authority with which the omission of the Princess had gone down to the other House. To reinstate her now would be inconsistent and contradictory. Lord Talbot said there was no inconsistency in changing, when founded on the opinions of the other House. It was advantageous to the constitution to have the joint wisdom of both. Lord Ravensworth said he had always been for naming the Princess, yet disapproved the new amendment, because the former amendment had come from the King. The Duke of Newcastle dissented from the amendment; protested he had no views; could only serve his country by his opinion in that House. He would not say the other House had no right to make this amendment; but they had not shown that respect to the Crown, or to their Lordships, that they had meant to show. It had been usual to receive nominations or stipulations from the Crown. The House of Commons should not have taken upon themselves to nominate. He thought Lord Halifax incapable of bringing anything but truth from the King: he wished, therefore, the former words had not been altered.

The present alteration was not warranted by precedent. Lord Halifax’s motion had reduced the number of those that were capable of the Regency, and therefore was a desirable measure. Lord Denbigh expressed his astonishment at the former extraordinary motion, which had flowed from as extraordinary a quarter. He had not been present, yet should have voted for it, extraordinary as it was; should wonder if their Lordships should not agree to correct that wonderful measure. During the meridian of Newcastle’s power, now dwindled, the Princess was named Regent. If Prince Frederick121 should, by failure of the rest of the Royal Family, come to be King before he was of age, the Princess, by Newcastle’s bill, must be Regent. He believed his Grace’s great age had made him forget one of his favourite children. Lord Talbot said he did not believe the Duke objected to the Princess, but would have had the Commons consider the motion as the King’s. He would not enter into the merits of the Princess. Though he held that stick in his hand (of Lord-Steward), he had never known a Court-secret. Should the King die, the Princess would be too afflicted to act. He then ridiculed the Opposition; and concluded with saying, “I was once a patriot, my Lords, for patriotism is always in opposition.” Lord Pomfret declared strongly in favour of the Princess; and the amendment was agreed to without a negative. The bill passed.

But though the Ministers had been forced to make atonement, the sacrifice was by no means accepted. The King treated them with every mark of estrangement and aversion; and it was visible to every eye that their fall was determined. Previous to their dismission, they tasted of the horror in which they were held by the people. The very day on which the Regency-bill passed, the Lords read another bill sent from the Commons, for imposing as high duties on Italian silks as are paid on those of France, on this foundation, that the French sent their silks to Genoa and Leghorn, and then entered them there as Italian merchandize. This bill had passed the Commons with little notice, all attention having been engrossed by the plan of the Regency. When it was read by the Lords, the Duke of Bedford alone spoke against it; nobody said a word for it, and it was thrown out.122 It happened that the silk manufacture was at a low ebb, and many weavers in Spitalfields were unemployed. The next day about three or four thousand of those poor men went very quietly and unarmed to Richmond, to petition the King for redress. The Queen was walking in the paddock, and was alarmed by their numbers; but they gave no offence, and followed the King in the same peaceable manner to Wimbledon, whither he was gone to a review. The King told them, he would do all that lay in his power to relieve them, and they returned pleased and orderly.

But the next day, May 15th, whether they distinguished between the assurances given by his Majesty and the rejection of the bill by the Lords; or whether, as is more probable, they had been instigated under-hand, they went to the House of Lords in great bodies, behaving in the most riotous manner, abusing the Peers, and applauding the Commons, who had passed their bill. The Chancellor’s123 coach they stopped, and asked him if he had been against the bill? He stoutly replied, Yes. They were abashed at his firmness, and said they hoped he would do justice. He replied, “Always, and everywhere; and whoever did, need fear nothing.” When the Duke of Bedford appeared, they hissed and pelted him; and one of the mob taking up a large stone for the new pavement, dashed it into the chariot: the Duke broke the force of the blow by holding up his arm, but it cut his hand, and bruised him on the temple; so narrowly he escaped with his life. They then followed him to his own house, where with great temper he admitted two of the ringleaders to a parley, and they went away seemingly appeased.124

The next day the House of Lords issued out orders for preservation of the peace; but the weavers continued to parade the streets and the park, though without committing any violence.

On the Friday, the Lords sent for Justice Fielding, who said the weavers had done no mischief. The Chancellor, who had been trusted by the Ministers with none of their late extraordinary measures, and who probably foresaw their downfall, was sullen, and would take no part. Few Lords attended, and everything announced to the Ministers their approaching disgrace. About dinner-time, the Duke of Bedford received intelligence that his house would be assaulted at night, on which he sent away his jewels and papers, and demanded a party of horse; the Duchess125 persisting in remaining with him in the house. His friends and dependants, and several officers, garrisoned it; and as was foreseen, the rioters in prodigious numbers assaulted the house in the evening, and began to pull down the wall of the court;126 but the great gates being thrown open, the party of horse appeared, and sallying out, while the riot act was read, rode round Bloomsbury Square, slashing and trampling on the mob, and dispersing them; yet not till two or three of the guards had been wounded. In the meantime a party of the rioters had passed to the back of the house, and were forcing their way through the garden, when fortunately fifty more horse arriving, in the very critical instant, the house was saved, and perhaps the lives of all that were in it. The Duke, however, and his company kept watch all night; and the coffee-houses were filled with curious and idle people, who sent with great indifference every hour to learn how the siege went on. The disappointed populace vented their rage on the house of Carr, a fashionable mercer, who dealt in French silks, and demolished the windows. All Saturday they remained peaceable; and though another attack on Bedford House was threatened, no further mischief ensued.

On Sunday evening I went to compliment the Duke and Duchess, as most of their acquaintance did, on their escape. I found the square crowded, but chiefly with persons led by curiosity. As my chariot had no coronets, I was received with huzzas; but when the horses turned to enter the court, dirt and stones were thrown at it. When the gates opened, I was surprised with the most martial appearance. The horse-guards were drawn up in the court, and many officers and gentlemen were walking about as on the platform of a regular citadel. The whole house was open, and knots of the same kind were in every room. When I came to the Duchess, and lamented the insult they had suffered, she replied, with warmth and acrimony, that the mob had been set on by Lord Bute. I was not much inclined to believe that, nor thought a mob a tool with which Lord Bute would choose to amuse himself. Immediately after, came in the Earl and Countess of Northumberland. Words cannot describe the disdainful manner in which they were received.127 The Duke of Bedford left the room; the Earl was not asked to sit, nor spoken to; but was treated with such visible marks of neglect and aversion, that Lord Waldegrave said to another of the family, “Faith! this is too much.” In my own opinion, the mob was blown up by Humphrey Cotes,128 and the friends of Wilkes. Almond, the friend and printer of the latter, owned to me, that they were directed by four or five gentlemen in disguise, who were not suspected; and seemed willing to disclose the secret to me. I said, “Name no names to me, I will not hear them.” He gave me a print published by Cotes against Lord Bute and Lord Holland; and talked of risings that would be all over England. I said, “I should be sorry to have the mob rise: it would occasion the army being quartered in London, and then we should be enslaved.”

Perhaps I have dwelt too minutely on this episode; perhaps I have done so on many other points equally unimportant. But it must be remembered that I am painting a portrait of the times, rather than writing history. The events, too, of this time were so linked together, that trifles gave birth to serious eras; and unless it be detailed with the circumstantial exactness which I shall use, and which I stood in a situation to know more thoroughly than most men, from my intimacy or connection with many of the actors, the history of this reign will be very imperfectly understood; and posterity would see sudden and extraordinary changes; without being able to account for them from the public appearances of things. When it is known, it will be easy to compose a more compendious account; and my narrative, that may serve for the scaffolding, may be thrown by as no longer of use.

The King, on all other occasions so able and steady a dissembler, did not affect now to disguise the offence he had taken at his Ministers. He had long inwardly groaned under their insolence and disagreeable qualities: and though for some time Lord Bute a little restrained his Majesty’s impatience to throw them off, both the Favourite and the mother had contributed to foment the King’s aversion. The Duchess of Bedford had openly affronted the Princess, and avowed her hatred to Lord Bute. To Lord Sandwich the Favourite bore private resentment, for having courted a little too assiduously, though he was disappointed in the pursuit, rich old Wortley Montagu, Lady Bute’s father.129 But Grenville was the principal rock of offence. I have mentioned his jealousy and ill-treatment of the Favourite; his manners made him as distasteful to the King, as his engrossing fondness for power had made him to the Favourite. His ill-judged economy had led him to refuse twenty thousand pounds to the King, to buy the ground behind the Green Park, where the King had made a new garden, and where, by the loss of that purchase, a new row of houses was erected, that overlooked the King and Queen in their most domestic hours. And, as if non-compliance with even his innocent pleasures was not sufficiently offensive, that awkward man of ways and means, whom Nature had fitted for no employment less than a courtier’s, fatigued the King with such nauseous and endless harangues, that, lamenting being daily exposed to such a political pedant, the King said to Lord Bute of Grenville, “When he has wearied me for two hours, he looks at his watch to see if he may not tire me for an hour more.”

The measure of these disgusts was filled up by the conduct of the Ministers on the Bill of Regency; yet, though that conduct threw down the sluice, the resolution had been taken before to discard them on the first opportunity. When the Duke of Cumberland had waited on the King, before setting out for Newmarket, his Majesty had vented himself to his uncle on the uneasiness he felt from being in their hands, and he must have felt before he chose that Prince for his confident. At Newmarket, the Earl of Northumberland had private instructions to continue the negotiation, and the Duke had listened with no unwilling ear, as I have hinted before; yet he had been so over-prudent as not to trust the secret to the chiefs of the Opposition, who, driven on by Lord John Cavendish, had intemperately displayed their aversion to the Princess and Favourite, while they had not the least suspicion that the Duke was secretly paving the way for their return to Court. Yet even that intemperate behaviour of the Cavendishes and their friends could not deter the Court from the resolution of removing the Ministers, whose crime appeared, as indeed it was, of a much blacker dye. Indeed, those of the Opposition who had gone the greatest lengths, were not of importance enough to make the Court lay aside its design. The royal Junto depended on the support of the Duke of Cumberland, and could not doubt but they might have Newcastle, whenever they called for him: the rest of course must follow their leaders. But the Court intended to avail itself of a still firmer support, and that was Mr. Pitt’s, on whose easy compliance they depended too inconsiderately—and with still greater inconsideration, they began to take the machine to pieces, before they had made the common preparations for refitting it. This rash conduct was probably inspired by the riot of the weavers, which the Court regarded as the sense of the nation expressed against the Administration. Had the King temporized, he might have dealt to advantage with any faction he chose. By beginning with the dismission of the Ministers, he exposed himself to the extravagant demands of all who saw the dilemma to which he had reduced himself, and the necessity he was under of submitting to some disagreeable set of men or other, who were sure to make him purchase dearly a support that they knew he wished not to accept at all.130

The King’s differences with his Ministers.—Negotiations with Mr. Pitt to form a new Administration.—Contemplated appointment of a Captain-General.—Reconciliation of Lord Temple and Mr. Grenville.—Ministers recalled.—Dismissal of Mr. Mackenzie.—Parliament Prorogued.

On May the 18th, Grenville went to receive the King’s orders for the speech at the close of the session, which was to end the next week. The King said, coldly, there was no hurry; he would have the Parliament adjourned, not prorogued. Grenville, thunderstruck, said, “There was so much mystery in that speech, that he must beg leave to ask if his Majesty had any thoughts of making a change in his Administration?”—“Certainly,” replied the King; “I cannot bear it as it is. I will have the Parliament only adjourned.” “I hope,” replied Grenville, “your Majesty will not order me to cut my own throat.”—“Then,” said the King, “who must adjourn the Parliament?”—“Whoever your Majesty shall appoint my successor,” said Grenville.

The Ministers, on the communication of this notice, took the only sensible step that remained in their situation, which was, by dissolving the Administration themselves, to involve the King in such a labyrinth of negotiations and demands, as might end in nothing, and reduce him to apply again to them. Accordingly, Bedford, Grenville, and the two Secretaries of State acquainted his Majesty they should resign on the following Tuesday, if no Administration was formed by that time.131

Hostilities thus commenced, other secrets came out. It was known that the design of the Court was to place the Earl of Northumberland at the head of the Treasury. The Duke of Cumberland had come into the plan, and Lord Albemarle had been sent very privately to Hayes, to ask Mr. Pitt’s assistance and junction in that scheme. Pitt’s behaviour was neither promising nor condescending. Yet, both the King and the Duke were so bent on union with him, that Lord Albemarle had been despatched again to Hayes with repeated offers. Pitt talked in general terms of a total alteration of measures; of a strict alliance against France; and of condemnation of General Warrants, though to be turned in some shape that might save his Majesty’s honour. Still, however, he kept great reserve, and to draw the fuller éclat from the negotiation, let Lord Albemarle perceive that he would not deign to negotiate with a substitute, but expected a personal interview with the Duke of Cumberland himself. Even this was granted, and (it was thought) wisely, as, if Pitt could be awed, it must be by so able and respectable a Prince. On the other hand, some men feared that Pitt’s haughtiness was more likely to augment than stoop to any dignity below the throne.

On the 20th, his Royal Highness went to Hayes. With much elevation, Pitt did not seem untractable. He made three principal demands: Regulation of General Warrants; Restitution of Officers; Alliances with Protestant Powers. The first article the Duke told him would be accorded; the King himself had named the second; the third would be most subject to difficulty. Of domestic regulations, Pitt only named the Chief Justice Pratt for Chancellor, which the Court endeavoured to elude by the offer of a peerage instead of the Seals. The Duke at last said that, though not authorized, he would venture to offer him carte blanche. Lord Temple should have the Treasury, Lord Northumberland would take any other post. Mr. Pitt said, Lord Temple would not take the Treasury, but some other place—if any: nor would he promise that himself would take any part in the new system.

The Duke of Cumberland, before he went to Hayes, had sent for Lord Temple to town; and it was observed, that from the time that lord saw Mr. Pitt, the difficulties and reluctance of the latter were visibly augmented.

One of my most earnest wishes was to see Mr. Pitt restored to the head of the Administration. Nobody knew his faults better, but nobody admired his genius more; no man had felt greater pride than I had felt, from the glorious position in which he had placed my country. The moment I learnt the negotiation, I laboured to my utmost to draw my friends to support him, if he should become Minister. Nor had I previously neglected to excuse their late behaviour, of which I persuaded Lord Holland they repented. He wished them to notify their sorrow in form: but though I was willing to have that signified, yet I could not expect the Cavendishes would recant: nor was I in haste to press it, as I waited for what I soon heard—the treaty with Pitt. Lord Holland said he was convinced the King would never forgive Lord Halifax and the Duke of Bedford, and would dismiss them if he could; but Grenville, he thought, would be saved, as he had had no hand in the transaction. “No hand!” said I, “he was as deep as any of them.” “Against the Princess, I allow he was,” said Lord Holland; “but did not contribute to draw the King into that cruel step.” This exception appeared so strange to me, that I almost thought there was truth in a saying of that time—that Grenville must remain Minister, because there was no other man in a tye-wig fit to preside at the Board of Treasury. I found from Lord Holland, that he had been denied access to Lord Bute, who had sent him word he could not see him, as so great a crisis was at hand, in which he himself had no share. The very message proved the contrary. If the message was true, and not concerted between them, it must have been a silly evasion prepared by Bute, that he might assure Pitt he had not seen Lord Holland; or to disguise to the latter the treaty with the former. It is not even improbable that Lord Bute had tasted so much vexation from the Regency-bill, which Lord Holland had earnestly pressed upon him, that he might not be inclined to have recourse to the same councils again. Lord Holland, however, let me discover how anxiously he wished to overturn the Ministers, be the means what they would. He dropped to me these remarkable words—“What an artful man might do with these mobs!” But I was not a man to dip my hand in such resources.132

On the day that the Duke of Cumberland went to Hayes, a committee of the House of Lords sat on the Riots. Lord Sandwich said, he hoped their Lordships would adjourn till the Duke of Bedford could come in safety to the House. Lord Halifax said, there were rumours of a change of Ministers; but it was impossible the King could give up so faithful a servant as the Duke of Bedford to the mob; and threw out many insinuations of the mob being stirred up by Lord Bute. Lord Pomfret took this up with great warmth; but during the altercation the Lords were informed that the Sheriffs of London (probably by concert with the Ministers) attended with material information. Lord Halifax went out to them; and returning, said, there was a diabolic plot. Being called in, the Sheriffs said they had received certain information that the weavers were to rise in arms at five in the morning, were to be joined by the butchers and watermen, and destroy Bedford House. The Chancellor said the notice ought to be laid before both Houses; but the Lords contented themselves with voting an address to the King for a proclamation against the rioters, with giving directions to the civil magistrates to secure the peace, and with granting an additional guard of one hundred men for Bedford House, as the Duke had desired.

The next day Mr. Conway brought me intelligence that gave me inexpressible concern, and struck me with more alarm than any public measure I ever knew. It was, that Lord Halifax had written to the King that his Ministers advised his Majesty to employ Lord Granby as the most popular man in England, and the Duke of Richmond and Lord Waldegrave as generals under him, to suppress the riot—advice that breathed the desperate ambition of the ministerial faction, and showed their intention of usurping the government by force: Lord Granby having assured them at a council of their friends, that he would firmly adhere to them. But this was not the part of the intelligence that most alarmed me: it was the consequence of this letter, the King on the receipt of it having written to his uncle that he would immediately name his Royal Highness Captain-General. This was at once firing the signal of civil war: the generals were named on either side. I implored Mr. Conway to hasten to the Duke, and prevent, if possible, before it was too late, so rash and fatal a step: it would be sufficient for the King to refuse delegating Lord Granby. The Duke begged the King to suspend his resolution, and told him, that if he accepted the nomination, it should only be for the present, and he would appoint Lord Albemarle to act under him. And he sent to Lord Granby, that he should accept the charge but for the purpose of suppressing the riots, and that he should not in any other point interfere with his Lordship. This, though it showed temper, discovered but too great alacrity to undertake the commission. To Hayes, too, his Royal Highness despatched Lord Frederick Cavendish, to acquaint Mr. Pitt with the intended measure. Mr. Pitt with his wonted elevation treated the matter lightly, and said the riots were of no consequence. The dismission of the Ministers he approved of, in consequence of their actions: if only as enemies of Lord Bute, the case was different. He had no objection to Lord Bute as Favourite, but as he disagreed with him on measures.

The Ministers determined to push their blow, prevailed on the Duke of York, who they meant should balance his uncle, to go to Richmond, and in their names to advise his Majesty to come and stay in town. Many of the Tories, dreading the power of the Duke of Cumberland, declared they would abandon Bute and adhere to Grenville. Fortunately the Duke himself told the King that the riots were not of consequence enough for him to be appointed Captain-General. The Favourite, too, had taken alarm, and apprehending a parliamentary motion against himself, had summoned all the Scotch to attend the House. Thus blew over a cloud that might have been productive of such fatal events!

The negotiation in the mean time with Mr. Pitt continued, but made no advance. The Duke of Cumberland understood that he refused to come into place, and proposed to the King to form an Administration without him. The Duke of Newcastle, though he would not venture to take any responsible place himself, was eager for the same measure; and the Cavendishes were not less ready to join such a system. It was proposed to place Lord Lyttelton at the head of the Treasury, with Charles Townshend as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and General Conway Secretary at War. The latter and I saw the inefficacy of this expedient, and protested against it. Such an Administration we agreed could not last six months. The Opposition would be said to join Lord Bute, and would suffer in their reputation. Finding so few facilities, the Duke determined to make one more essay, and desired Lord Lyttelton to go to Hayes, and know the last resolution of Mr. Pitt. What words can paint the astonishment of Lord Lyttelton, or indeed of mankind, when that Lord, who was to carry Lord Temple to Hayes with him, was informed at Lord Temple’s door, that Mr. George Grenville was alone with his brother? Lord Lyttelton waited two hours with Lady Temple. It was by that time too late to go to Hayes till after dinner. Lord Temple vouchsafed to make no explanation to Lord Lyttelton, but said it was only a private reconciliation. He said the same the next day when, with Lord Lyttelton, he waited on the Duke of Cumberland; adding, that their reconciliation did not extend to political connection. “But that, I suppose, my Lord,” said that sensible Prince, “will soon follow.” Lord Lyttelton had previously waited on his Royal Highness at his return from Hayes, and owned that he could not say Mr. Pitt and Lord Temple were agreed, though still they were open to treat. Lord Temple complained to the Duke that the King had been advised to take his old Ministers again; and wondered who had advised it. “I did, my Lord,” said the Duke firmly, “thinking Mr. Pitt’s a flat refusal, and finding nobody else would engage without him.” Before they parted, the Duke made Lord Temple own, that carte blanche had been offered to Mr. Pitt; yet that point Mr. Pitt and his friends never allowed.133

What the Duke had said, was true. He no sooner heard of the reconciliation in the family of Grenville, than he advised the King to submit, and take up with his old Ministers. The reconciliation explained Mr. Pitt’s conduct, and the seeming variations in it; for though in terms he never consented to accept, the Duke owned to Mr. Conway, that he had talked as if actually in place. He had said, “Pratt will be at the head of the law.”—“I said no such thing,” said the Duke; “the King may be engaged to Mr. Yorke; I know nothing of it.” Pitt replied, if he did come in, he could not depend on the faith of the Court, and on influence in the Cabinet; “I do not know, Sir,” continued he, “if I can even depend on your Royal Highness’s influence.” “No, indeed,” replied the Duke, “for I shall have no influence there myself. The King called me to this business, and the moment it is over, I shall retire to Windsor.” But these irregularities had all flowed from the conduct of Lord Temple, who had thrown every obstruction in the way of the negotiation, and had affected even to complain of the Duke of Newcastle, for proposing Lord Lyttelton for the head of the Treasury, though he himself could not be persuaded by Mr. Pitt to accept it. It may be remembered, that in my visit to Stowe, I had discovered how little cordiality subsisted between Lord Temple and Mr. Pitt. From that time, the former had certainly leaned towards his brother George; and, as if the love of confusion predominated even over his ambition, he had selected this important moment to clog Mr. Pitt’s measures by openly rushing into connection with his brother George. Lord Bristol,134 and Augustus Hervey,135 had, at Lord Temple’s desire, negotiated the reconciliation; and besides the very lucrative interest that Grenville had in accepting the offer, it was doubly sweetened now by the defeat it gave to Mr. Pitt, who in honour would not, or in prudence could not, enter upon Administration by a breach with his brother-in-law, his benefactor, and popular associate, Temple, and only for being reconciled to their common brother, George Grenville.136 The reversion of Lord Temple’s estate137 could make even the inflexible Grenville stoop; and if his acrimonious heart was obliged to pardon his brother, it was indemnified by revenge on his sister’s husband. Mr. Pitt, when Lord Temple and he parted, said pathetically,

The Ministers, who no doubt had learnt from Lord Temple the King’s distress, went to his Majesty on the 22nd, and being acquainted that it was his purpose to retain them in his service, insolently told him that they must ask three things. First, Would his Majesty promise, on his royal word, not to consult Lord Bute any more, nor suffer him to interfere in business? Secondly, Would he dismiss Mr. Mackenzie138 from the direction of Scottish affairs? Thirdly, Would he immediately declare Lord Granby Captain-General? The King said the last would be the greatest affront imaginable to his uncle, after he had been thought of for Captain-General. Grenville replied insolently, he did not understand why his Royal Highness was so often at Court. “But,” continued the King, “are these questions, or terms?” They said, “Questions.” “But do you mean,” said the King, “to adhere to them as sine quâ non?”—“We do,” replied they. The King said, he would give them an answer at night.

In the evening, the King, instead of seeing them, sent for the Chancellor, and ordered him to carry his answer to the Ministers. It was: that there was no longer any question about Lord Bute: but his Majesty would give his word not to see him. He would dismiss Mr. Mackenzie,139 but would by no means yield to make Lord Granby Captain-General. But though the stand-out of prudence was made on the last article, the indignity offered personally to the King on the second was the most crying. Mr. Mackenzie had possessed a place of 2000l. a year for life. To accommodate some arrangement in Scotland, he had given it up, and the King had given him another of 3000l. a year; but it not being a patent place for life, the King had promised him, upon his honour, that it should never be taken away during his reign. This severe sacrifice the insolent faction now extorted; the Court, in its present distress, not daring to venture a rupture, of which any part of Lord Bute’s family should be the cause.

The Ministers did not hesitate long; though Rigby tried to enforce140 their adherence to all the three demands. They waited on the King the next day, declaring their acceptance of the two conditions, but annexing a third, the dismission of Lord Holland from the Pay-office, which was granted without a murmur; though, when Lord Holland had undertaken to carry through the Peace, the King said to his wife, he should never forget the obligation.141 The King ordered Lord Sandwich to write the letter of his dismission, but Sandwich had the decency to excuse himself, having lived even till now on friendly terms with Lord Holland, and then actually inhabiting the Pay-office, which Lord Holland had lent him the two last years. Charles Townshend succeeded Lord Holland, though he had been designed Chancellor of the Exchequer by the Opposition, and acted with them when they came into power; and to complete the disgrace of Lord Bute’s family, and as if wantonly to mark their disregard to all propriety, the Ministers removed Lord Northumberland from the government of Ireland, and named for his successor the Viscount Weymouth,142 an inconsiderable, debauched young man, attached to the Bedfords, but so ruined by gaming, that the moment before his exaltation, he was setting out for France, to avoid his creditors. The Duke of Cumberland retired to Windsor, declaring he had done with Opposition. His whole conduct, indeed, in this transaction, had been noble, and becoming the relation in which he stood to the Crown. He had forgiven all the slights he had experienced from the Court, had handsomely taken up the cause of his nephew, and had even submitted to act as messenger to Mr. Pitt. The Dukes of Richmond and Manchester143 had offered his Royal Highness their assistance against the Ministers. The former, enraged at the disgrace of his brother-in-law Lord Holland, wished to reconcile him to the Duke, but the Prince would lend no ear to it. Nor, unsuccessful and baffled as our party had been, did they grow at all more reasonable. Lord Frederick Cavendish, probably from knowing the inclinations of the Duke of Cumberland, was desirous his brothers should soften towards Lord Bute. I, too, saw the necessity of that step; as, added to our own numbers, we should have the favour of the Crown, and the support of Lord Bute, Lord Northumberland, Lord Holland, and their friends. “It is true, we should,” said Lord Frederick, when I mentioned this; “but then, we should have Mr. Pitt against us.” “I doubt it: Mr. Pitt was not disposed to offend the King: he never was heartily a friend to us;” and his subsequent conduct proved how much he preferred any connection to union with George Grenville.

The privy seal of Scotland thus wrenched from Mackenzie, was offered to Lord Lorn:144 he declining it, it was bestowed on his brother Lord Frederick Campbell, who, with unparalleled ingratitude and indecency, accepted it. He was nearly related to Mackenzie, had lived in the strictest intimacy with him, and had received from Lord Bute a place in Scotland of above 400l. a year for life, by a preference that had made two considerable chiefs in that country the mortal enemies of the Favourite. Thurlow,145 an able lawyer, was named secretary to Lord Weymouth; and Lord Warkworth, the Earl of Northumberland’s son, was set aside from being Master of the Horse to the Queen, to which he was destined by the Court, in the room of Lord Weymouth.

To complete their vengeance even on inferior offenders, the Ministers caused the House of Lords to inflict severe penalties on several printers, and to reprimand Justice Fielding, the blind, but only useful magistrate, for having been negligent during the late riots. Yet as so much persecution and arrogance could not but excite much ill-will and mutual hostilities, it now came out that, before the loss of their bill, the weavers, suspecting that Lord Hilsborough was against them, had waited on him to implore his protection. To convince them he was not their enemy, he showed them a letter from Lord Halifax, in which the latter had begged him not to oppose the bill, Lord Halifax having an estate in Spitalfields, which would be greatly benefited by the success of the bill. To this the weavers had trusted; and the disappointment had blown up their fury. How Lord Halifax came not to support his own interest, or how it was compensated to him, did not appear. But with this triumph over all their foes, the Ministers put an end to the session by proroguing the Parliament, May 25th. Ten days more crowded with events scarce ever passed; for the Regency-bill was finished on the 14th, and between that and the 25th had happened the riot, the King’s declaration of his intention to dismiss the Ministers, the several journeys to Hayes, the reconciliation of Lord Temple and Grenville, the various attempts to form another Administration, the recall of the Ministers, and the several instances of their revenge and insolence. The King was left a prisoner to the Cabal, Lord Bute punished by the very instruments of all his bad acts, and Lord Holland disgraced by his once dear allies, the Bedfords and Rigby. The only joy the nation could feel was in seeing such poetic justice, for if they pitied not the sufferers, they could but abhor the executioners. If Lord Bute had advised the Peace, the Duke of Bedford had negotiated it. If General Warrants were employed for his service, Lord Halifax had issued them. If he had had any hand in the dismission of officers, Grenville had executed it. And if he had authorized the severe proscription of opponents, Lord Holland had marked the victims. Ampler atonement was still due; and it was not long delayed.

Defeated as the King’s attempts had been to deliver himself from the thrall of his Ministers, he could not sit patient under so many indignities. The insult offered to his mother, and the breach of his own royal promise imposed on him, were injuries not to be pardoned. His resentment broke out on every occasion, and the Parliament was no sooner prorogued than he took all opportunities of frowning on his tyrants and thwarting their desires. The Ministers proposed to make Lord Waldegrave or Lord Suffolk Master of the Horse to the Queen. Her Majesty said no Minister should interfere in her family, and named the Duke of Ancaster.146 The first regiment that became vacant, the King bestowed on Lord Albemarle’s brother, General Keppel. The young Duke of Devonshire, by the King’s desire, was carried to Court by his uncles; and the Duke of Cumberland was still ready, as the King knew, to protect him against the Cabal. His Royal Highness said to Lord John Cavendish, “I can oppose the Crown when Ministers do wrong, but will now support it when it is insulted.”

Differences between the King and his Ministers.—Further Negotiations with Mr. Pitt.—Attempts to form a Whig Administration.—Summary of the Negotiations.—New Ministry formed.—Mr. Dowdeswell.—Marquis of Rockingham.—Mysterious Behaviour of Mr. Pitt.—Arrival of the Prince and Princess of Brunswick.

Presuming on their superiority in Parliament, and hurt at the marks of the King’s aversion, the Ministers determined once more to subdue him totally, or reduce him to new distresses. On the 12th of June147 the Duke of Bedford, accompanied by Grenville, Sandwich, and Halifax, waited on his Majesty with a remonstrance, which the Duke had drawn up, which took an hour in reading, and which, though it had been much softened by Grenville in their private meeting, the King had the greatest difficulty to command himself enough to hear it read to the end. It tended to give him a month to consider whether he would take a new ministry or retain the old. In the latter case he was told that he must smile on his Ministers, and frown on their adversaries, whom he was reproached in no light terms with having countenanced contrary to his promise. Invectives against the Princess were not spared; nor threats of bringing Lord Bute to the block. The King made no answer, but made a bow as a signal for them to retire. When they were gone, he said that if he had not broken out into the most profuse sweat, he should have been suffocated with indignation.148

No redress was left but to apply once more to Mr. Pitt; and should he again decline, to form some desperate Administration of Lord Bute’s friends, and any detached persons that would join in so unpromising a system. To prevent the former—at least, to detach Lord Temple from Mr. Pitt—the Dukes of Bedford and Marlborough offered to resign either of their places in favour of the former. Temple, though expressing his good wishes, declared he would take nothing with the Administration as it then stood, but should like to see a new one formed out of all parties. Yet the Court did not despair of Mr. Pitt’s concurrence. James Grenville told Colonel Fitzroy that Mr. Pitt wished to see his brother, the Duke of Grafton, who had particularly distinguished himself by attachment to Pitt. The Duke, however, was so cautious that he would not go unless Mr. Pitt would directly request it; but sent Fitzroy to Hayes to know if Mr. Pitt desired to see him. Fitzroy stayed three hours and a half, while Pitt, in his vague inconclusive manner, was profuse of words, which did not tend to any definite meaning. It was rather a complaint of the late application. He said, that in August, two years before, he had been promised the King’s countenance; now no such thing had been mentioned, but that bubble Lord Northumberland had been pressed upon him, and the Duke of Cumberland had even urged it to him for an hour and a half. That he had not wanted the Treasury for Lord Temple, nor would have filled the carte blanche if it had been given to him. After much desultory conversation of the like sort, Fitzroy said, “Then, Sir, the result of all is, that you are resolved not to treat any more.” “Resolved! that is a strong word,” replied Pitt; “but this is my answer; Mr. Pitt’s determinations are fixed: all negotiation is at an end.”

The Duke of Grafton soon followed his brother. Mr. Pitt told him that Mr. Grenville had been there, and had begun to talk politics, but he had stopped him, and said, “Sir, a truce to your politics, for I never will talk politics with you again as long as I live.” In this visit the Duke thought he did not perceive a total unwillingness in Mr. Pitt still to listen to accommodation. On that report, and urged by the necessity of making one more attempt,

On the 17th the Duke of Grafton was again dispatched to Hayes to tell Mr. Pitt that the King was convinced he could not do without him, and to invite him to Court. Mr. Pitt replied he was ready to come, if his Majesty would graciously condescend, in consideration of his lameness, to see him on the ground-floor. Accordingly,

On the 19th he was three hours and a quarter with the King at the Queen’s house, and as long on the 22nd again, professing his readiness to undertake the direction of affairs. Everything he asked was accorded; particularly a close alliance with Prussia if possible. He named Lord Temple for the Treasury; the Duke of Grafton for Secretary of State, with himself; Sir George Saville for Secretary at War; Keppel and Saunders for Commissioners of the Admiralty, he did not care in whose room, nor should he be violent in turning out; though, as so many had suffered, there must be a large sweep.

During this transaction Pitt would not deign to make any communication to the Duke of Cumberland, who, notwithstanding, behaved nobly, said he would do all the good he could, and would take nothing ill.

Two days after these conferences, arrived Lord Temple from Stowe, and went to Hayes. The next day he waited on the King, and refused to accept the Treasury, saying he had a delicacy which must always remain a secret. This was generally supposed to be levelled at Lord Bute. Some thought of the Duke of Cumberland, and others that it regarded his own brother, George Grenville. But surely Lord Temple was not so overrun with delicacy that he could afford to make a secret of the only delicacy he seemed ever to have felt, the turning out his own brother to take his place himself!

The next day Pitt waited on the King again, and declared he was still ready to accept, if Lord Temple would; and in the presence of the latter, told his Majesty that for himself he was satisfied, and trusted his royal declarations. And to the Duke of Grafton he said, that he lamented with tears in his eyes Lord Temple’s refusal to accept. That Duke urged Lord Temple warmly, and told him he would forfeit all character if he remained obstinate; but when power could not influence him, what could reproaches do? He persisted, and Mr. Pitt would not take his part without him. Pitt had certainly made nearer advances to Lord Bute in this negotiation than the King either asked or expected; and Lord Temple, who never failed to take any credit to himself at the expense of his friends, openly calumniated Mr. Pitt for leaning towards Lord Bute, whom, he said, he himself had not ventured to trust. Pitt, it was true, had told the King that his Majesty ought in conscience to restore Mackenzie—and in truth both sense and honour dictated that advice to any man who entered into his Majesty’s service. In the City, Lord Temple’s emissaries abused Mr. Pitt for too much Butism, as Lord Sandwich did for his eagerness to promote a new war on the Continent. But what could excuse the conduct of Lord Temple, who, having an opportunity of redressing all the breaches of the Constitution, against which he had been so clamorous, now not only waived that duty, but leagued with the very men whom their own guilt and his voice and pen had pointed out as the criminals?149

The Duke of Cumberland now fearing that the King’s desperate position would drive him to form an Administration, with Lord Egmont at the head of the Favourite’s faction, which the Court had thought of, pressed the Whigs to undertake the Administration, and proposed Lord Rockingham for head of the Treasury. In consequence of this desire, a meeting of the chiefs of the Opposition in town was held at Claremont June the 30th. There were present, Newcastle himself, Lord Rockingham, the Duke of Portland and his brother, the three Cavendishes, Lord Grantham, General Conway, Thomas Walpole, George Onslow, Lord Ashburnham, two of the Townshends, and Lord Villiers.150 The question of acceptance was debated; Newcastle answered for the Duke of Grafton’s readiness. Portland was warm on the same side, but proposed to turn out Lord Bute’s people. The rest were very doubtful. Newcastle declared his willingness to accept, but as he could not answer for all his friends, he desired each would deliver his opinion separately. Charles Townshend,151 Lord Ashburnham,152 T. Walpole, Onslow, and Lord Villiers disapproved of coming in without Mr. Pitt. Onslow pressed them to wait, as he said he hoped there would soon be a coalition of all parties against Lord Bute. T. Walpole153 would not even promise to support so unpromising an Administration. Conway thought it perilous, but would not decline the danger. The rest agreed with Newcastle.

I was ill in bed and could not be present at the meeting; but when Conway reported the particulars to me, I thought I never heard a more wild proposal, nor one fraught with greater improbability of success. The nomination of Lord Rockingham for Minister at any season would have sounded preposterous; in the present, sufficient alone to defeat the system. Nor had I a more advantageous opinion of the rest that were to compose it: all young and inexperienced men, unknown to the nation, and great by nothing but their rank and fortunes. Conway agreed with me, but professed that if the Duke of Cumberland laid his commands on him to accept, he would not flinch from the enterprise.

The next day Newcastle reported to his Royal Highness the indifferent success of the assembly, yet with such eagerness to come again into power, that he answered for Lord Ashburnham, and gave hopes of prevailing with the rest. The Duke, not apt to be daunted, encouraged the trial; and thus, without any new consultation, his Royal Highness acquainted the King that he was ready to form an Administration for him. To disgust those who still adhered to Mr. Pitt, the Duke said he would now disclose what he had not told before, that Mr. Pitt, when he parted with the King, had told his Majesty that, though he thought Mr. Grenville the meanest and weakest of Ministers, yet there was no man he should advise his Majesty to employ so soon. This anecdote was confirmed by Mr. Pitt’s conduct in the next year. Censured, however, as Mr. Pitt was, his conduct was both prudent and honourable. Nothing had barred his acceptance but Lord Temple’s refusal of co-operating with him. Himself told the elder T. Townshend that, had he been younger, or had had one friend to whom he could have entrusted the Treasury, he would have undertaken the Administration without Lord Temple; but this was not the sole occasion in which he found the disadvantage of having kept all connections at a distance. Lord Temple’s defection he termed an amputation.

The King did not hesitate a moment to receive the new arrangement proposed by his uncle, nor clogged it with either terms or objections. Whatever was asked was instantly granted; and if no such courtly overtures were made, as Mr. Pitt had dropped to ingratiate himself with the favourite star, the Duke had, however, the address to ward off any unwelcome conditions from being imposed upon the King. Indeed, no conditions at all were proposed. The Whigs, content with the power of doing right, as their subsequent actions proved had been their intention, forbore to stipulate for redress of grievances; and though the King might expect more complaisance on certain points than he afterwards experienced, he was too glad to be revenged on his old Ministers, and too content with finding no unwelcome sacrifices demanded, to boggle at a treaty which was restricted solely to the disposition of places. Many of the new placemen were not less rejoiced to find themselves exalted above their most sanguine expectations; though that precipitate rise ought to have admonished them of the weakness and instability of their party. But the rage of the fallen Ministers exceeded, out of all proportion, the joy both of their masters and successors. And as defeated insolence soon turns to despondency, they were abject enough to deny that they had driven the King a second time to take his part. It was too late now to repent, and the new Ministers kissed hands on July the 8th.154

The Marquis of Rockingham was appointed First Lord of the Treasury; the Duke of Grafton and General Conway, Secretaries of State; the Duke of Newcastle, Lord Privy Seal; and the old Earl of Winchelsea, likewise coupled with this juvenile troop, was made President of the Council; and Mr. Dowdeswell,155 Chancellor of the Exchequer. The Duke of Portland succeeded Earl Gower as Lord Chamberlain. Thomas Townshend156 the younger, Lord John Cavendish, and George Onslow were appointed Commissioners of the Treasury. Lord George Cavendish and Sir George Saville, though firm friends to the new system, handsomely declined accepting places. The Earl of Egmont, the only friend of Lord Bute that was advanced, was made First Lord of the Admiralty, with the Admirals Keppel and Saunders, Sir William Meredith, and the Spanish Charles Townshend. Thomas Pitt, in compliment to his uncle, was offered to remain at that board, but chose to follow Mr. Grenville. The Earl of Ashburnham was made Keeper of the Great Wardrobe; Lord Barrington, Secretary at War, instead of Treasurer of the Navy; the Earl of Besborough and Lord Grantham, joint Postmasters. Lord Powis157 was turned out of Treasurer of the Household, to make room for Lord Edgcumbe;158 and the Earl of Scarborough159 succeeded Lord Thomond, who resigned with his brother Grenville, as Cofferer. Thomas Pelham160 replaced Lord Charles Spencer as Comptroller; Lord Villiers was made Vice-Chamberlain in the room of William Finch,161 who retired with a pension; and Lord Gage,162 Paymaster of the Pensions, in the room of Mr. Neville. Inferior promotions it is not necessary to recapitulate: let it suffice to say, that the new Ministers dismissed but two of Lord Bute’s friends, Lord Despencer and one who will be mentioned hereafter.163 On the other hand, the Duke of Cumberland had wished to detach the Duke of Bedford from Grenville, (an object only desirable for the breach it would have made in their party,) and sent General Fitzwilliam with carte blanche to Rigby. The latter rejected it with scorn, and with ample abuse on his Royal Highness as a politician.

I have specified the new plan as it took place, but must take notice now of some steps leading to it. Grenville, on his reconciliation with his brother, had notified it to the King in a long declamation. The King answered, He did not trouble himself with the friendships of others, and wished nobody would with his. When the change was determined, the Chancellor received the King’s orders to write to Grenville and the two Secretaries of State to bring their seals the next day. The Duke of Marlborough, Earl Gower, and Rigby resigned.

In the first draught of the new settlement it was proposed that Mr. Conway should be Chancellor of the Exchequer; and for some time Lord Rockingham refused to accept without that assistance. Conway’s inclination was to be Secretary at War; his resolution not to quit the military line. I, who knew his unacquaintance with the business of the Treasury, the disgusting coldness of his manner, which would revolt those he ought to court, and who foresaw (though not to the degree I found afterwards) how little he was made to ingratiate himself with strangers, and consequently to conduct the House of Commons, earnestly dissuaded him from undertaking that post. My opinion concurring with his own sentiments, though at first he had been staggered, he set himself to refuse that employment with a vehemence much beyond his natural temper. For Secretary of State he was excellently fitted, and no man ever applied himself to the business of his office with such unrelaxed industry. Unluckily, the department he refused was bestowed on Dowdeswell, who was so suited to the drudgery of the office, as far as it depends on arithmetic, that he was fit for nothing else. Heavy, slow, methodical without clearness, a butt for ridicule, unversed in every graceful art, and a stranger to men and courts, he was only esteemed by the few to whom he was personally known.164

The Marquis of Rockingham was almost the reverse. More childish in his deportment than in his age, he was totally void of all information. Ambitious, with excessive indolence; fond of talking of business, but dilatory in the execution; his single talent lay in attracting dependants: yet, though proud and self-sufficient, he had almost as many governors as dependants. To this unpromising disposition, he had so weak a frame of person and nerves, that no exigence could surmount his timidity of speaking in public; and having been only known to that public by his passion for horse-races, men could not be cured of their surprise at seeing him First Minister, as he never could give them an opportunity of knowing whether he had any other talents. A silent First Minister was a phenomenon unknown since Parliaments had borne so great a share in the revolutions of government. His personal character was blameless—unfortunately, the times required something more than negative qualities!165

The most sensible step taken by the new Ministers at their outset, was endeavouring to gain the countenance of Mr. Pitt—at least, affecting to wear the marks of enjoying it. One of the Vice-Treasurerships of Ireland, vacant by Rigby’s resignation, was offered to James Grenville, who expressed, and I believe sincerely, his concern at not being able to accept it. The Cofferer’s place was also tendered to Lord Lyttelton, who had much occasion for it, and who no less sincerely lamented that his having been included in the family reconciliation of the Grenvilles forbad his joining in a system founded on the disgrace of Mr. Grenville. But a step more material, and more likely to impose on the world, met with better success. This was an offer of the peerage to Lord Chief Justice Pratt. Lord Rockingham, whose aunt166 was married to Lord Mansfield, and who hoped for the assistance of the latter, was averse to this measure, on the evident probability that Pratt would be a troublesome rival of Mansfield in the House of Lords. In truth, that probability made Pratt’s peerage infinitely more important to the nation than the court paid to Mr. Pitt by it could be; and had the new arrangement produced no other benefit to the country, that single step had made the change desirable. Nothing could be more dangerous than the influence of so arbitrary a man as Lord Mansfield over the House of Lords, where a lawyer of such eminent abilities was sure to preponderate; for the Chancellor167 was too profligate in every light to carry any authority. Pratt, with great thankfulness, took the title of Lord Camden.

Still, more weight was wanted. Charles Townshend and Charles Yorke were applied to. Each fluctuated according to their various degrees of timidity and irresolution. The first seemed transported with the change—then refused to engage—and then would not lose his place. Thus he neither pleased the fallen Ministers, nor satisfied his successors. His brother,168 whom he feared, went to the King, declaimed against the change, yet at last promised to support it. Charles seemed to support it only because he had not promised. Yorke’s scruples had deeper root. His ambition pointed immediately at the Chancellor’s Seals; and finding no hopes of them, he dreaded offending the other party, who might recover their power and that of making a Chancellor. These perplexities he did not express; but at first pleaded reluctance to come in when his friend Dr. Hay was turned out. He next had qualms about Norton, who was not his friend, and who now, to the universal joy of the nation, was turned out by the new Ministers, with the no slight dissatisfaction of Lord Bute. Charles Yorke then consented to take the place of Attorney-General in Norton’s room, and as quickly repented of and recalled his consent. However, as he too was one who had great sway with Lord Rockingham, and as his family inclined to the new system, Yorke remained of their connection, and some time after was again made Attorney-General.169 His youngest brother170 was preferred to the Admiralty, and the Earl of Breadalbane, whose eldest daughter171 Lord Hardwicke had married, was appointed Privy Seal of Scotland, Lord Frederick Campbell being turned out; a half oblation to the King;—the real reparation not being made by the restoration of Mackenzie. Lord Lorn, who had given up his brother-in-law Conway, was as little delicate on the disgrace of his own brother Lord Frederick. No sooner had the change taken place, than not resenting the latter, and trusting that the former was not resented, Lord Lorn wrote to Mr. Conway from Scotland to say, that as he was so connected with the Duke of Bedford, he could ask nothing from the new Administration; but if the King should offer him a regiment, he could not refuse it from his Majesty, though he could not violate his connection with the Bedfords. Mr. Conway could not mistake the drift of this casuistry. The regiment was offered, and accepted.

Mr. Pitt’s behaviour was various and full of mystery. When Norton was turned out, Pitt sent him word that it was not done by his advice, and that were he Minister, he should be glad of the assistance of such abilities. As nobody supposed that Mr. Pitt directed the new Administration, however good his intentions to them might be; as he and Norton had ever acted in an opposite line, and on opposite principles; and as Norton had by no means been gentle in his attacks, the message seemed uncalled for and mean-spirited: nor was it to be accounted for, unless in scorn of Yorke, or as an innuendo to Lord Bute, that his friends would have received better quarter, had the treaty with Pitt succeeded or should succeed another time. The Duke of Grafton and Admiral Saunders had been advised and pressed by Pitt to promote the formation of the new Ministry. The latter asked if he might mention that advice? Pitt replied, “Tell it everywhere.” Pitt then went to Stowe for a few days, returned to town, visited Grenville, and was with him for some time. The Duke of Grafton hearing that in consequence of that visit Grenville had affirmed that Mr. Pitt had to him expressed disapprobation of the new system, the Duke wrote to Mr. Pitt, who declared he had seen Mr. Grenville but once since the new Administration had taken place, and then not in private, and had not to him, or to any one else, disapproved of the present arrangement.172

There still remained some persons to be satisfied, and more were necessary to be acquired. Lord Shelburne was offered his old place at the head of the Board of Trade. He declined it in a pompous letter, in which he said he regarded measures, not men; he would wait to see what their measures (he should have said what their success) would be. The post was conferred on the Earl of Dartmouth. Stanley was dissatisfied with not being allowed to keep the Admiralty with the government of the Isle of Wight. Lord Howe, on the contrary, though promoted by Grenville, accepted the Treasurership of the Navy. Lord Digby,173 to compensate to Lord Holland for the loss of his place, was created an English peer; but the latter had rendered himself so obnoxious to the new Ministers by his character, by his connection with the Favourite, and by the persecution he had carried on against the Whigs, that they who consulted their own characters, and indulged their resentments beyond what prudence dictated, totally neglected him. Nor could the Duke of Cumberland or House of Cavendish forgive him. Lord Strange chose to preserve his employment, and pleaded having bargained with the late Ministers that his place should not affect his conduct in Parliament. There was another man who was early in the most humble application to the Duke of Cumberland to be received into the new establishment; this was Lord George Sackville. He did not ask, he said, for anything in the military line. The Duke was disposed to give him hopes only; but, by more judicious addresses to Lord Rockingham, Lord George was not long before he obtained one of the lucrative Vice-Treasurerships of Ireland.

There was much more difficulty about the Duke of Richmond. He had entirely broken with the late Ministers, and attached himself to the Duke of Cumberland. The arrangement, however, had been made without any suitable provision for his Grace. At last he was offered the place of Cofferer. He said modestly that he knew he had not the same pretensions to the first posts as the other young noblemen of his own rank, since he had not suffered like them, had not engaged with them in opposition, and consequently had not the same merit with the party. He owned, however, that he wished for an active place in business. I persuaded him not to accept Cofferer, and assured him I would not rest till I saw him placed in a situation suitable to his rank and talents. I kept my word; and as the Duke of Cumberland had dropped a hint of making Lord Hertford Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and of sending the Duke Ambassador to Paris, I pursued that idea, though the Duke wished rather to be employed at home; till, on Lord Hertford’s nomination to Ireland, I pushed Mr. Conway so warmly that he obtained the embassy for the Duke of Richmond. Mr. Conway had had more difficulty in succeeding for Lord Hertford, whose conduct, in not taking part with his brother and his wife’s nephew, the Duke of Grafton, had given universal disgust to the party. Richmond was indeed the only steady acquisition the Ministers made. Yet the intemperance of the disgraced Cabal threw another important convert into their hands. Grenville told Lord Granby that the new Ministers had wished to turn out his father, the Duke of Rutland, in order to save the Duke of Marlborough. Lord Granby was advised to ask the King if this was true. The King denied it; and in that conversation made such impression on that light man, that, with the addition of the first vacant regiment for his uncle, Lord Robert Manners, Lord Granby was entirely gained over from his late allies. This blow was sensibly felt by Grenville, who was not endowed with the spirit of patience. His behaviour on his fall was abject and full of lamentation; and, as disgraced Ministers are seldom pitied, so the occasion generally calls forth even those spots that flattery had concealed from the prying eyes of opposition. The vaunted economy of this Minister had not been restrained to the public service. It now came out that he had obtained the reversion of one of the lighthouses174 for himself under another name; and that, having bestowed an inferior office in the Treasury on his cook, he had bid the man expect no wages for five years. Lord Halifax had been guilty of worse corruption: he and his mistress had sold every employment in his gift.

But if the integrity of the new Ministers shone by the comparison with their predecessors, in want of prudence they seemed to have taken the example of those very predecessors for the rule of their own conduct. Nothing could induce them to take the smallest step that might secure favour in the closet, by even civility to the Favourite. Perhaps the disguise used by the King deceived them into an idea of that attention not being necessary. He told them early that he understood their bargain, and that Lord Bute should not meddle; and that if Elliot and Oswald would not work (support them by speaking in Parliament) he gave them power to turn out both. The conduct of the Ministers, as individuals, was honourable—but in not restoring Mackenzie, unjust both to the King and the sufferer, and too great a sacrifice to popularity. I pressed the restitution of Mackenzie to Mr. Conway, and urged that, as public men and friends to their country, it behoved them to bend a little in order to secure their power in exclusion to men of worse designs. But to talk to Conway against public opinion was preaching to the winds. Even Lord Northumberland, from his relation to the Favourite, was neglected in the new system, though he had been deprived of the government of Ireland by the late Cabal on the same foundation.

The Princess of Wales was the first offended on finding she could promise herself as little influence over the new Ministers as of late she had experienced from the last. A conversation was much talked of, in which it was said warm words were overheard between her and her son, who was distinctly heard (according to the report) to tell her, that he had ventured his crown to obey her. The disgusts of Lord Bute’s friends, and of the late Ministers, whose rupture had its origin in the animosities between the Princess and the Duchess of Bedford, gave occasion to an excellent bon mot of George Selwyn, who said of the two factions, that, like thieves going to execution, they laid their ruin to lewd women.

Notwithstanding their sacrifices to popularity, and with self-created omens that promised them little stability, the first public notice taken of the new Ministers gave them no reason to think that there was a general approbation of their advancement. In the Address of the City of London on the birth of a Prince, the King was told that when his measures should be established, that great body would be ready to support them. The Ex-ministers took this as a compliment to themselves; but it more probably had reference to Mr. Pitt, the idol of the citizens.

Abroad the change was no sooner known, than Prince Ferdinand wrote to Mr. Conway to propose coming over with the Hereditary Prince, or afterwards, and begged Mr. Conway to tell him in confidence whether the King would like it. The King said he should like it much, but that Prince Ferdinand had better wait till his nephew was gone back again to Germany, because the latter, having married a Princess of England, must be distinguished by ceremonial. Whoever remembered how little distinction had been paid to the Prince, even on his marriage, could not believe this to be the true reason of the King’s waiving the visit. It was more natural to think his Majesty was not eager to be witness of Prince Ferdinand’s popularity, when his own was at so low an ebb; nor could he wish that his new Ministers should enjoy the triumph and advantages of a visit that seemed paid to them rather than to himself. Whatever hindered it, Prince Ferdinand never came. The Prince and Princess of Brunswick did arrive by particular invitation. Some thought Lord Bute hoped to engage Mr. Pitt by the intervention of the Hereditary Prince; but the court paid of late, both by the Prince and his wife, to the Princess Dowager, had entirely won her affections, and removed her antipathy to the House of Brunswick.

Walpole’s Separation from his Party.—His Character of Mr. Conway.—Commencement of the Troubles with North America.—Death of the Duke of Cumberland.—His Character.—Negotiations with the Courts of Versailles and Madrid respecting the Fortifications at Dunkirk and the Ransom of the Manillas.

The dissolution of our Opposition now afforded me that opportunity of retreating from those who had composed it, for which I had so eagerly longed; nor was I dilatory in executing my resolution. Many new reasons concurred to make me adhere to the plan I had formed. It was against my opinion that my friends had accepted the Administration; and though I would not peremptorily advise Mr. Conway to decline taking part, when he told me he thought himself obliged in honour to obey the King’s and Duke’s commands, still I saw so much weakness both in the leaders and the numbers, that I entertained no hopes of the permanence of their power. Chiefs who could not conduct a party with sense, seemed little qualified to govern a nation. I had given notice, that if ever they attained power, I would have nothing farther to do with them. They had attained it now, but with so little prospect of maintaining their ground, that nothing was so probable as their being soon driven to opposition again. In that I was determined to engage with them no more. If I quitted them triumphant, they would have no right to call on me should they again be defeated by their own want of skill. I had fully satisfied my honour and my engagements, and had anybody cause to complain, it was myself—but I chose to part with them on good terms; nor would I, when I was really hurt, condescend to utter a reproach. This topic truth demands that I should explain. I had entered into opposition on the view of the violent measures, and still more violent designs of the Court. Personal dislike to the Bedford faction had inflamed my natural warmth, and the oppression exercised on Mr. Conway had fixed in me an unalterable desire of overturning that Administration. Not the smallest view of self-interest had entered into my imagination. On the contrary I risked an easy ample fortune with which I was thoroughly contented. When I found unjust power exerted to wrong me, I am not ashamed to say I flattered myself that, if ever our party was successful, I should obtain to have the payments of my place settled on some foundation that should not expose me to the caprice or wanton tyranny of every succeeding Minister; for court I was resolved to make to none, whether friend or foe,—a haughtiness I maintained throughout my life, never once condescending to go to the levee of any first Minister. My wish of making this independence perfectly easy I had hinted to Mr. Conway during our opposition. He received it with silence. It was not in my nature to repeat such a hint. As disinterestedness was my ruling passion, I did hope that on the change some considerable employment would be offered to me, which my vanity would have been gratified in refusing. It was mortifying enough to me, when Mr. Conway (for I have said that during the last negotiation I was confined in bed with the gout) reported to me the proposed arrangement of places, to find that my name had not been so much as mentioned. That I would take no place was well known,—I had frequently declared it. From the Duke of Cumberland, to whom I had never paid court; from the Duke of Newcastle, whom I had constantly ridiculed; from Lord Rockingham and the Cavendishes, whom I had treated with a very moderate share of regard; I had no reason to expect much attention: and though some notice is due to all men who are respected in a party, they were excusable in proposing nothing for me, when they found nothing demanded for me by my own intimate friend and near relation. He must be supposed to know my mind best: if he was silent, what called on them to be more solicitous for my interest? But what could excuse this neglect in Mr. Conway? For him I had sacrificed everything; for him I had been injured, oppressed, calumniated. The foundation of his own fortune, and almost every step of his fortune, he owed solely to me. How thoroughly soever he knew my sentiments, was a compliment at least not due to me. Whatever was due to me, much or little, he totally forgot it; and so far from once endeavouring to secure my independence, in his whole life after he never once mentioned it. I had too much spirit to remind him of it, though he has since frequently vaunted to me his own independence. Such failure of friendship, or to call it by its truer name, such insensibility, could not but shock a heart at once so tender and so proud as mine. His ensuing conduct completely opened my eyes. When I saw him eager and anxious to exalt his brother Hertford to the Vice-royalty of Ireland, and his brother-in-law Lorn to a regiment; and when he omitted no occasion of serving them and the Duke of Argyle175 and Lord Frederick Campbell—all four, men who had abandoned him to persecution without a pang, I saw clearly into his nature. He thought it noble, he thought it would be fame, to pardon the neglect he had met with; and that the world would applaud his generous return of their ungenerous and interested behaviour. No glory would have accrued from his serving me, as it would have been natural and no more than was expected. His heart was so cold that it wanted all the beams of popular applause to kindle it into action. I had command enough of myself not to drop a word of reproach on a friendship so frozen; but, without murmur, and with my wonted cheerfulness, as soon as my strength was tolerably recruited, I declared my intention of making a visit to Lord Hertford, at Paris, before he quitted his embassy. I acted with the same unconcern to the whole party, for I would neither suffer them nor my enemies to know that I had any cause to be dissatisfied with Mr. Conway. When I scorned to open myself, even to him, it was not likely I should be more communicative to others. As disgust with my friends did not, as most commonly happens, reconcile me to my enemies, I foresaw that I might still have occasion to make use of my power with Mr. Conway to the annoyance of the latter; for though Mr. Conway had none of the warmth of friendship, yet he had more confidence in me, and knew he might have, than in any man living; and, notwithstanding the indifference I have described, he frequently trusted me afterwards with secrets that he reserved from his wife and his brother.

He no sooner discovered that my intention was to remain in France much longer than he expected, than he broke out into complaints, entreaties, and reproaches: and, as if he had satisfied all the duties of friendship, and I had violated them, he tried with angry words to divert me from my purpose; urged the occasion he should have for my advice, and called my retreat desertion of my friends. Satisfied with making him feel the want of me, and now hardened against the calls of friendship, I treated the matter lightly, civilly, and desultorily. I reminded him of the declaration I had often made of quitting the party as soon as they should be successful, which he could not deny; and, with a little mixture of conscious scorn, I said I knew the obligations the party had had to me; I knew none I had to them. Vexed, and his pride hurt, he employed Lady Ailesbury to tell me in his presence that he looked upon my behaviour as deserting him; and himself dropped many peevish accents. Fixed in the plan I had laid down to myself, nothing could provoke me to be serious; I carried off all with good humour; and, above owing to a retort of reproaches what I ought to have owed to his sentiments, I parted with him with such inflexible, and consequently mysterious, cheerfulness, that he knew not what interpretation to put on my behaviour—if he did guess, he was more blameable than I suspected. His insensibility had made me insensible; his ingratitude would have given me stronger sensations. But it is justice to him to say, that I think he was incapable of ingratitude: his soul was good, virtuous, sincere; but his temper was chill, his mind absent; and he was so accustomed to my suggesting to him whatever I thought it was right for him to do, that he had no notion of my concealing a thought from him; and as I had too much delicacy to mention even my own security, I am persuaded it never came into his conception. His temper hurt me, but I forgave his virtue, of which I am confident, and know it was superior to my own. We have continued to this day on an easy and confidential footing; but conscious that I would not again devote myself for him, I have taken strict care never to give him decisive advice, when it might lead him to a precipice. Before I set out, and as a mark that I meant no breach with him, at the same time to serve another friend, and to wear an air of interest with the Administration which might disguise my dissatisfaction, I desired Mr. Conway to raise Sir Horace Mann, the resident at Florence, to the rank of envoy; which was immediately done. The Bedfords, however, knew me enough to surmise that my retreat was the effect of some dislike I had conceived to the new system; and at my return to England, near eight months afterwards, officiously threw out civilities that might draw me to their connection. I soon let them see that whatever my dislikes were, nothing had happened to soften my conduct, or change my opinion of them and their principles. Nor was it much longer before they found that I had lost neither inclination nor power to bar their return to Court by the weight I retained with Mr. Conway.

I left England in August, and did not return till the April following. A very interesting scene passed in the interval, on which, as I was not an eye-witness, I shall be more brief than ordinary; but as I corresponded with Mr. Conway, was consulted by him, and received other information from very good authority, I shall set down nothing but what I know to be truth; and that will be sufficient not to leave any material break in the thread of my narration.

The new Ministers had scarce taken possession of their places, before they were alarmed with accounts of the mutinous behaviour of the Colonies, on the attempt to carry into execution the new Stamp Act. The Americans were determined not to submit to it; and great pains had been taken in order to bring about a general union of all the provinces, in order to oppose the admission of the tax. To all it was disagreeable; yet some Colonies accepted it. Virginia and New England were the most refractory, and precipitated themselves into great violences. In some parts, the ships that brought over the stamps were seized and the stamps burned. The officers of the new revenue were not suffered to land, or were cruelly treated, their houses forced and pillaged, and their persons menaced. The governors themselves were not secure, and trembled lest their few strongholds should be seized by the hand of rebellion. In the most mutinous towns there was no possibility of executing the Act. But the weapon with which the Colonies armed themselves to most advantage, was the refusal of paying the debts they owed to our merchants at home, for goods and wares exported to the American provinces. These debts involved the merchants of London, Liverpool, Manchester, and other great trading towns, in a common cause with the Americans, who forswore all traffic with us, unless the obnoxious Stamp Act was repealed. Nothing could be more delicate to the new Ministers than such a crisis. They themselves had opposed the Act. Should they enforce the execution, which could only be done by the sword, it would be tyrannizing against their consciences, and supporting a bad or weak act of their antagonists. They would risk lighting up a rebellion in the Colonies, would ruin the mutual intercourse and trade between the mother-country and the outlying provinces; would endanger those distant dominions flinging themselves into the arms of France or Spain, at least receiving succours thence; while they were threatened at the same time with insurrections in the trading towns at home, who loudly demanded a repeal of the bill, on which depended the payment of what was due to them, and the hopes of re-establishing so beneficial a commerce.

On the other hand, to repeal a revenue-bill, because it was distasted by those obnoxious to it, was setting a precedent of the most fatal complexion. What country, what town, what profession, what order of men, would submit to the most legal impositions, if Government once showed itself afraid, and recoiled, as soon as force was used to reject the duty? In the present case the insult was unparalleled and accompanied with every kind of aggravating circumstance. Not only payment of the duty was refused, but the very authority called in question by which it was enjoined. The Parliament of Great Britain, said the Colonists, had no right to impose internal taxes on them: they were not represented there; they would tax themselves. This was striking at the very vitals of the Constitution, for however the Colonies affected to distinguish between the King and the Parliament, the Act had been the act of the whole Legislature, and the Constitution knows not the King in a legislative capacity distinct from the two other branches of the Legislature. Here was disobedience to the law, and rebellion against the principle of all our laws. Nor was this speculative view the sole object to weigh in the decision the Ministers were to make. Should they embrace the measure of repeal, were they sure they could carry it? The Act had passed by a great majority in both Houses, and with the royal assent. Was it probable that such majorities could be induced to revoke their opinion in compliment to mutinous associations that flew in the face of their ordinance, and denied their authority? Was it likely that the King would approve of, or consent to, such diminution of his Majesty, before an attempt had been made to enforce it? When do princes bend but after a defeat? There could be no doubt but force would easily reduce the Colonies to obedience. They had no strongholds, were ill-armed, a disjointed body, not yet engaged in a common cause, nor so compact a corps as easily to be put in motion together; and from being distinct governments, habituated to different usages, and actuated by different interests, easily to be separated from a joint plan, and more likely to obstruct than to promote one general system of operations. To temporize in favour of resisting subjects would be speaking that language of Whiggism so distasteful to the Court, so dissonant from the tone of the present reign, and so much objected to the new Ministers during the late opposition. It would be opening a door to the flattery of their antagonists, who, instead of setting out by obstructing the measures of the Crown, would have an opportunity of paying their court at the expense of the Ministers themselves.

These were deep and weighty considerations, and, with this precipice on either hand, were young, artless, inexperienced men to date their career. Grenville, the parent of the Bill, and even fond of it beyond the love of a politician, was not a man to overlook so sudden a prospect of recovering the ground he had lost. Though he would have revelled in an opportunity of glutting his vengeance and enforcing obedience to his law, he could not but enjoy the distress to which the crisis reduced his adversaries. It suited his proud spirit to call for assertion of the Crown’s and Parliament’s dignity; and his revengeful spirit, to drive the Ministers on measures so repugnant to their principles and opinions, and, rather than not see the Colonies punished, he wished to have the punishment inflicted even by his adversaries. He toiled to obtain the most circumstantial evidence of the mutiny; he exaggerated every instance, and called aloud on the hand of power to vindicate the honour of the Legislature.

As the accounts from America grew every day worse, the Ministers, who at first were inclined to repeal the Act, were borne down by the flagrancy of the provocation. But being temperate men in themselves, fixed in their principles, forseeing not only more extensive but more immediate evils from violence, (for the danger from the clamours of the merchants and trading towns increased in proportion,) and possibly indignant at the attempts made by their antagonists to drive them to extremities, they coolly and firmly resolved to remove the grievance, rather than involve their country and outlying brethren in a series of calamities more destructive of the common good than the wound given to the authority of Government. Whoever will reflect on the state of the dangers they were to encounter, and which I have specified above, must own that their conduct was virtuous, honest, prudent, humane, and brave: it will be difficult, I believe, to discover that it could be interested.

This determination of the Ministers to attempt the repeal of the Stamp Act was putting their power to the test at once; and was the more adventurous, as they certainly had not taken any steps to secure the previous favour of the Crown. If on one hand they increased by this measure the animosity of Grenville and his party, and held out to him the means of making his cause common with that of the Legislature; on the other, they afforded an opportunity to Lord Bute and his faction of returning their hostilities, and of veiling his grievances under the mantle of the King’s and Parliament’s dignity. The Colonies, however pleased, could lend no support to their protectors, who, in truth, could stand on no ground at home, but on the popularity they had already acquired with the people, and should acquire with the mercantile part of the kingdom. In this exigence they lost the only real pillar of their Administration at Court.

Notwithstanding the services he had rendered, it is not probable that the Duke of Cumberland had made any progress in his Majesty’s or the Princess’s affections. He had driven out obnoxious Ministers, it is true, and furnished the King with a new set when no others would venture to enlist. But were not these new men more attached to his Royal Highness than to the person of the King? and had not the Duke promoted his own views in forming an Administration for his nephew? Had his Royal Highness interested himself to obtain any terms for the Favourite? Was not the latter in a manner proscribed by the friends of his Royal Highness? Had not the most select of those friends been as offensive to the Princess as the late Ministers themselves? Undoubtedly; and yet the personal character of his Royal Highness was in such estimation, his behaviour was so full of dignity, he was so attached to the Crown, and understood the Court so much better than the Ministers, and could dare to hazard language in the closet which their want of authority and favour forbad them to use, that he could have interposed in their behalf, or could have bent them to necessary submission to the Crown, which no other man in England was capable of doing. But of this mediator the Ministers were soon deprived.

On the 30th of October his Royal Highness was playing at picquet with General Hodgson.176 He grew confused, and mistook the cards. The next day he was recovered enough to appear at Court; but after dinner was seized with a suffocation, and ordered the window to be opened. One of his valets-de-chambre, who was accustomed to bleed him, was called, and prepared to tie up his arm; but the Duke said, “It is too late!—it is all over!”—and expired.

I have spoken so much of his Royal Highness’s character in the beginning and in various parts of these Memoirs,177 that little addition is necessary. His haughtiness and severity had made him most obnoxious in the early parts of his life. His profound understanding had taught him to profit of his mortifications; and though he never condescended to make himself amiable but to very few, he became as much respected, though deprived of power, as if his heroism had been victorious. Whether his good sense would have resisted prosperity with equal temper, I much doubt. He would have made a great King, but probably too great a King for so corrupt a Country. His indifference to death, which he had so long and so frequently had in prospect in the last years of his life, and which he seemed to invite, was, I believe, less owing to the solidity of his courage, which was intrepid, than to the unhappiness of his situation. His bodily infirmities,178 though borne without complaint or impatience, were grievous. His mind had been more sensibly afflicted. Born with a martial spirit and fond of command, he had not only been unsuccessful in every battle, except that of Culloden; but had been forced by cruel circumstances from the favourite profession of his soul; in civil life he was kept, by the temper of his father and the aversion of the Princess Dowager, in a state of neglect and disgrace. Fox, who he had a right to expect should stickle for his power, had betrayed and abandoned him; Pitt had made it a point to bar him from all influence; and the two Pelhams, after leaning on him for a while, had sacrificed him to the Princess and to their own ambition or jealousy of credit. His mind had not been formed for idleness, and could ill digest an exclusion from all military and all civil councils; and was too lofty and too unpliant to feed on trifling amusements. It had the great, but none of the little, powers of philosophy; could bear misfortune, but could not compensate to itself for the want of its object. He used books rather than liked or valued them, and cared for none of the arts. His principles restrained him from going any considerable lengths against the Crown; nor could he stoop to bestow those caresses that are necessary to form extensive connections. He dealt his smiles to those who followed him, like a King that rewards, not like the head of a party, who has farther to go. The dignity of his conduct and behaviour gave his Court the air of a dethroned monarch’s, but had nothing of a Prince whom his nephew’s Court had suspected of having views on the Crown.

The King, at his Royal Highness’s request, had promised the first vacant garter to the Earl of Albemarle,179 and now with great propriety bestowed on him that of his master. The Ministers, too, were assured by his Majesty that the Duke’s death should make no alteration in the present system.

In London, the Duke’s death was deeply felt; and when the orders for mourning were issued, which, according to usage, were as for an uncle, and regulated by the late shorter ceremonial, the middling and lower people almost universally went into the closet mourning with weepers, and wore it for the whole time that had been customary before the contraction enjoined in the late reign. An attempt was made for a subscription to raise a statue to his memory, but without success:180 and the new area in Berkeley Square being destined for the place, Adam,181 a Scotch architect, defeated the project, from the hatred which his nation bore to their conqueror, by proposing to erect a statue182 of his Majesty on that very spot, a compliment his Majesty too willingly accepted, and which became ridiculous by the King himself being at the expense. The Duchess of Bedford, then at Bath, distinguished her animosity as absurdly, by wearing slighter mourning for the Duke than that prescribed by the Court.

The Administration was not without difficulties with regard to the Courts of Versailles and Madrid, who delayed to demolish the fortifications of Dunkirk, to liquidate the payment on the Canada Bills, and to settle the ransom of the Manillas. But though the new Ministers were more in earnest in their attempts to obtain all these ends than their predecessors had been, the ignominy of not obtaining them lay heavier on the latter. They it was who had sacrificed so much glory and advantage to the two Courts—at least all of them had concurred with Lord Bute in that paltry Peace; and when they had retained so small a portion of our conquests, and stipulated for such slight indemnifications, on them it lay to have secured at least the accomplishment of such poor terms. Indeed they had not dared to use a vigorous tone to either Court; for could the Ministers of Louis or Charles believe that those men would seriously undertake a war for trifles, who had sacrificed so much to purchase a Peace that they might have dictated? They accordingly had hoped that they should wheedle the two Courts to save them from the reproach of having accepted fallacious conditions, rather than attempted to call loudly for execution of the Treaty. The new Ministers had less to fear in speaking out. They had nothing to manage for their own sakes; and if the nation was not in a situation or a temper to go to war for the violation of the Peace, they were not answerable for the measures that had reduced us to such a state of timidity. It would be glorious to them to extort what the peacemakers had not dared to insist on; or baffled, the shame would lie at the door of their predecessors. Our Ministers, therefore, at Versailles and Madrid were ordered to make the demands with spirit. The Duke of Richmond, though he had concurred in the Peace, wanted no alacrity to enforce the terms of it. He had had little or no connection with the late Administration, had never been favourably looked on at Court, had no predilection for Lord Bute, and now entered with warmth into alliance with the Ministers. Though possessed of the Dukedom of Aubigné, he was far from having any partiality to France: and having naturally a high and national spirit, he was ready to hold as firm a language as the Administration could choose to authorize. In truth, his friends apprehended that he would be more likely to embroil the Courts than to relax in following his instructions. Yet young, inexperienced, and high-souled as he was, no man could conduct himself with more prudence and temper. Though he negotiated with obstinacy, he bore the flippancy and evasions of the Duc de Choiseul with admirable patience, neither betraying the honour of the Crown, nor exposing it to any unwarrantable contestations. In the short period of his embassy he performed an essential service by his resolution, quickness, industry, and perseverance. It is almost sufficient to say, that he settled one point of his negotiation and was unwelcome to that Court: a proof that he neither temporized too far, nor was over-reached by men of larger experience. On his way to Paris he passed purposely by Dunkirk. The Duke of Cumberland had disapproved of that visit. “My Lord,” said the Prince, “Dunkirk is not worth going to war for: if you do not visit it, you may say it is destroyed; you cannot after seeing it with your own eyes.” This implied that his Royal Highness was convinced France did not mean to destroy it. As I had arrived at Paris before the Duke of Richmond, I had learnt the desperate situation of their finances, and was witness to the disturbances occasioned to their Government by the active spirit of their Parliaments. I had written to Mr. Conway on these grounds, to advise their authorizing the Duke to talk big to the French Court, who, from the causes I have mentioned, were less in a situation than we were to recommence war. Mr. Conway heartily approved my views. The Duke had more doubts, but yielded to my reasons when he came over and found the soundness of my intelligence. The measure succeeded to my expectation. The Duc de Choiseul consented at last to settle the affair of the Canada Bills. Our merchants at home had blundered in their calculation, and asked less for themselves than they were entitled to. Sir John Lambert,183 an English banker at Paris, pointed out the error to the Duke, who, with amazing quickness, himself discovered a method of obtaining, within twelve thousand pounds, a full indemnification for them. The French Court yielded to this new demand.184 I persuaded the Duke to conclude the negotiation without any new transaction with our merchants at home, lest the readiness of the French should cool; and I urged him to ratify the agreement on the authority of three letters from Mr. Conway, who pressed to finish the bargain, and enjoined him to threaten the French Ministers that he (Conway) would represent it to Parliament, if they did not do us justice. The Duke doubted whether, having put the business into a new train, he could justify concluding it without again consulting the merchants. I persuaded him to despatch a courier to Mr. Conway, to say he would conclude, but not to specify in his public letter the error of the merchants, lest the Court of France should get intelligence, and repent of their facility.

With regard to Dunkirk, nothing was to be obtained. Choiseul told the Duke of Richmond that the late Ministers had not been so difficult. “But,” said the Duke, “before I came away, I saw in the Secretary’s office a strong letter to your Court on the subject of Dunkirk.” “True,” said Choiseul, “but it was not written till after Lord Halifax knew he was to be turned out.” This indiscretion flowed from Choiseul’s natural levity, not from any intention of hurting our late Ministers, whose fall he regretted, and on whose complaisance185 he could better build than on men who had loudly condemned the Peace. Still was France not alarmed while Mr. Pitt remained without power. Their dread of him existed in all its force. To judge of it, one should have seen, as I did, the efficacy of his name to change their countenances and language. One day at dinner with the Duc de Praslin, when Mr. Pitt was accidentally mentioned, the Duc, with visible marks of alarm, asked if Mr. Pitt was coming into place again? And it is true that when any Frenchman gave a loose to their natural presumption before me, I had no occasion but to drop a careless hint that he was likely to be again employed, to strike silence through a whole company.186

One other point obtained by the new Ministers was a mutual exchange of envoys between England and Prussia, their first intercourse of communication since the war. Mitchell, destined for that embassy, was created a Knight of the Bath.187 Count Malzahn came hither from Prussia.

November the 5th, Lord Camden, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, decided in that court the great cause between Wilkes and the Secretaries of State, in favour of the former.188

Terrick, Bishop of London, set himself to prosecute mass-houses, with what view I know not; for though noways blameable in his morals, zeal for religion by no means entered into the composition of the man. Ambition, creeping upwards by little intrigues, formed his whole character. Perhaps he thought this activity might be one step to the primacy. He had not much chance under the new dispensation.189 The Duke of Newcastle, whose fears had surmounted his passion for the first rank in power, had told the King that he would content himself with making bishops in concert with the archbishop. Content or not, he had waived the Treasury, and Lord Rockingham, become First Minister by accepting it, was too fond of power not to engross all he could. It was a proof how old Newcastle was grown, when he bore this pre-eminence without jealousy or treachery.

Lord Rockingham had been advised, seeing the present Parliament had been chosen by Lord Bute, and recruited by Grenville, not to trust to it, but to dissolve, and call a new one; and that measure was for some time in deliberation. For his own interest he would have acted wisely, no doubt, in taking the advice; but he at last rejected the proposal, saying, that in so factious a time it would produce unheard of corruption. The sentiment was laudable, but neither faction nor corruption has decreased since that time.190

Meeting of Parliament.—Debates on the Stamp Act and the state of North America.—Death of Prince Frederick, the King’s youngest brother.—Walpole’s Observations upon the state of France at this period.—Death of the Dauphin.

On the 17th of December the Parliament met. Grenville, apprized of the intention to repeal the Stamp Act, had laboured to form a strong Opposition, giving out that the Ministers were going to rescind all his acts, because his. The very first day of the session he proposed to address the Crown, to know how the Stamp Act had been enforced; and in amendment of the address, proposed to insert the word rebellious in speaking of the Colonies.191 He professed great readiness to congratulate his Majesty on the birth of a young Prince. With regard to the Duke of Cumberland’s death, he would not, he said, flatter dead whom he had never flattered living. He was answered by Elliot, Lord George Sackville, and Norton, who, though dismissed, showed he had not imputed his disgrace to the Crown; and whatever the intentions of the Crown might be, it was thought proper that a majority should first be secured, lest the Cabinet should again be taken by storm. Charles Townshend spoke for the Ministry,192 with great encomiums on Conway. Grenville finding so little countenance, withdrew his motion.

In the other House, Lord Suffolk moved for an assurance to the King that the Lords would support his Majesty and the Parliament against the Colonies. He was supported by the Duke of Bedford, the Lords Gower, Halifax, Sandwich, and Temple. The last declared there was no truth in the reports spread of differences between him and Mr. Pitt; they agreed on every point. The first assertion was false; the latter soon proved to be so. Lord Shelburne spoke for the Ministers, though his friend Colonel Barré had declined their offers.193 But the concurrence of Shelburne and the retiring of Lord Camden spoke sufficiently, that they knew or suspected Mr. Pitt would take part for the repeal.194 The Chancellor, Lord Pomfret, and the Duke of Grafton opposed the motion. Lord Mansfield, in a timid trimming speech, besought the Ministers to agree to the motion, and retired. The question was rejected by 80 to 24, though the new Opposition had flattered themselves that in the House of Lords lay their greatest strength. But they were sorely disappointed of Lord Bute’s support, which they expected on all the questions relative to America.

Two days after the former motion, the Duke of Bedford moved for all papers that had been sent to America relating to the Stamp Act, and since the passing of it. The Duke of Grafton quashed that proposal, by promising all the papers should be produced. Rigby moved the same question in the Commons, and was severely treated by Beckford, and the motion was rejected, the Duke of Grafton forgetting to acquaint the Ministers in that House that he had granted the demand to the Lords. This obliged the King to send the papers to the House of Commons likewise.

Grenville, the next day, by surprise, proposed that the House should adjourn, but to the 9th instead of the 14th as the Ministers intended, in consideration of the urgent affairs of America—as if five days could make any difference. But the motion was rejected by 77 to 35: so ductile and subservient to present power was that assembly! Alderman Baker called Grenville’s an insolent motion: being called to order, he was silent for some minutes; and then said, he had been trying to find another word—if the House could, he desired them to supply it. Then treating Grenville as the author of all the troubles in America, the latter threw the blame from himself on the Parliament.

Lord Temple, disheartened at so unpromising an outset of the session, had the confidence and meanness to hurry to Mr. Pitt at Bath; and now stooped to solicit the assistance of him whom he had so lately traversed, and whose offers he had so haughtily rejected. Mr. Pitt in his turn was inflexible.

On the 29th of December, died the King’s youngest brother, Prince Frederick, an amiable youth, and the most promising, it was thought, of the family. The hereditary disorder in his blood had fallen on his lungs and turned to a consumption.

I will close the account of this remarkable year with a few observations I made in France.

Louis the Fifteenth did not want sense, and had as much humanity as was consistent with insensibility and indolence. The first prevented him from suspecting evils that did not immediately fall under his eye; and the latter from inquiring what oppressions his people suffered. He was more shy than reserved, and all these qualities tended to make him the slave of habit. He hated new faces rather than loved old servants. Being free from ambition, having no appetite for glory of any kind, and impressed with sentiments of devotion, he preferred peace, and listened to any overtures of treaty, whether victorious or vanquished. To the Queen he had been for many years strictly constant; was always a civil husband, and, in her last illness, a tender one. To his children he was most affectionate.195 To his mistresses profuse, but capable of harshness whenever he quitted them. Cardinal Fleury governed him with unbounded authority. Madame de Pompadour, by art, and at last by complaisance in procuring other women for him, engrossed him entirely, but with no hold on his affections, for her death made not the slightest impression on him.196 The Duc de Choiseul having been placed by her, succeeded to the ascendant that habit gives, and thence excluded other favourites, rather than became one himself. The King’s life was regulated by the most mechanic sameness. An hour or two he could not deny to his Ministers: hunting took up the rest of daylight. Women amused his private hours: cards and a supper, with a select company, concluded the evening. All the flattery of that vain and obsequious nation, who love themselves in their kings, gave him no pleasure. It was a negative kind of nature that could neither be totally spoiled nor amended. But the true picture of him was an anecdote, that I learned from good authority. A sensible confident of Cardinal Fleury reproached him with not making the King apply to business. This was the answer of that wise Minister: “I have often endeavoured what you recommend; and one day went so far as to tell the King that there had been kings dethroned in France for their fainéantise.” It seemed to strike him deeply. He made no reply: but two days afterwards said to me, “I have been reflecting on what you told me of some of my predecessors being deposed—pray resolve me: when the nation deposed them, were they allotted large pensions?” “From that moment,” said the Cardinal, “I saw it was in vain to labour at making him a great King.”

The Queen was not only a pious but a good woman. Indifferent to the gallantries of her husband, and free from ambition, she lived well with him, his mistresses, and ministers. Fond of talking and universally obliging, the nation thought her void of any particular attachment; yet she showed an unalterable friendship to the Duchess de Luynes: and her affection to her father, King Stanislas, and the loss of her son the Dauphin undoubtedly hastened her death. Though she could not prevent the expulsion of the Jesuits, the King’s esteem for her mitigated their fall. It was to the honour of both that, though the daughters of Stanislas and Augustus, the Queen and the Dauphiness lived in uninterrupted harmony.

The Dauphin, who died while I was in France, was totally unknown till his death. His great caution of not giving jealousy to his father, and his respectable fear of not alarming the bigotry of his mother and wife, had made him conceal both his good sense and the freedom of his sentiments with such care, that the former was not suspected; and the latter was so unknown, that the nation, now running with their usual vehemence into any new opinion, and, consequently, growing Freethinkers, believed and hated him as an enthusiast. Yet he had a good understanding, had carefully, though secretly, cultivated it, and was a modern philosopher in the largest sense of that term. During his illness, which continued many weeks, he seemed neither to regret his youth nor hopes; was patient, complaisant, and indulgent; and a few days before his death gave proof of his good sense and good nature. A man of quality that attended him had the brutal absurdity to solicit him to ask some favour, on his behalf, of the King, “who,” said the person, “can refuse your Royal Highness nothing in your present condition.” The Dauphin laughed at the indelicacy, but would not divulge the name of the man. To please his family the Prince went through all the ceremonies of the Church, but shewed to his attendants, after they were over, how vain and ridiculous he thought them. Many expressions he dropped in his last hours that spoke the freedom of his opinions; and to the Duc de Nivernois he said, he was glad to leave behind him such a book as Mr. Hume’s Essays.197

The Dauphiness, with whom he lived on the best terms, he had, however, no fondness for: his first wife had been far more dear to him. The second was morose and ungracious; and, dying in a year after her husband, was not at all regretted. In her last moments, having sharply reprimanded the Duchesse de Lauragais, the latter, turning to another lady, said, “Cette Princesse est si bonne, qu’elle veut que personne ne la regrette.”198

The Duc de Choiseul, the Prime Minister, was a man of excellent parts, but of a levity and indiscretion, which most of that nation divest themselves of before his age, or when they enter into business. Except the hours which he spent with the King, the rest of his life was dissipation, pleasure, profuseness, and bons mots. Rash, daring, and presumptuous; good-humoured, but neither good nor ill-natured; frank, gay, and thoughtless, he seemed the Sovereign more than the Minister of a mighty kingdom. Scorning, rather than fearing, his enemies, he seldom undermined and seldom punished them. He dissipated the nation’s wealth and his own; but did not repair the latter by plunder of the former. Mr. Pitt’s superiority he could never digest nor forgive; and though he was incapable of little mischief in his own country, great crimes had rather a charm for him. He excited the war between the Russians and Turks, to be revenged on the Czarina; and I saw him exult childishly in his own house on her first defeats. At last he descended to the mean and cruel oppression of Corsica, for the sake of gathering a diminutive laurel, after being baffled in the large war. Gallantry without delicacy was his constant pursuit. His wife, the most perfect character of her sex, loved him to idolatry;199 but, though a civil husband, he spared her no mortification that his carelessness could inflict. His sister, the Duchesse de Grammont, too openly connected with him by more ties than of blood, had absolute influence over him, and exerted it cruelly and grossly to insult the Duchesse de Choiseul, who, more than once, was on the point of retiring into a convent, though without the least belief of the doctrines held there. Madame de Grammont, who had none of the accomplishments that graced the small but harmonious figure of the Duchesse de Choiseul, had masculine sense, and almost masculine manners. She was wonderfully agreeable when she pleased, a vehement friend, a rude and insolent enemy. The nation revered and neglected the wife; detested and bowed to the sister. The Minister had crushed the Jesuits, for he loved sudden strokes of éclat; and, to carry that measure, had countenanced the Parliaments till they grew almost too ungovernable. But as he seldom acted on deep system, he sometimes took up a tone of authority, and as quickly relaxed it—a conduct that confounded the nation and a little the Parliaments; but that war from thoughtlessness, or to ruin a rival, the Duc d’Aiguillon, he chiefly left to the latter; and he could not have left it to worse hands. Proud, ambitious, vindictive, and void of honour or principle, the Duc d’Aiguillon, with very moderate parts, aimed at power with the Crown, by being the Minister of its tyranny.200 The infamous oppression exercised on that undaunted man, M. de la Chalotais,201 flowed from the revenge of this Duc, who, to carry his point, lent himself even to the exploded Jesuits: and though that connection could be no secret to the Duc de Choiseul, he suffered rather than encouraged a plan that clashed so much with the service he had rendered to his country by abolishing the Order. Nor was it to his honour that shame and the outcry of mankind rescued M. de la Chalotais, rather than the justice of the Prime Minister.202

The Parliaments of France were filled with many great, able, and steady magistrates. The philosophy and studies of the age had opened their eyes on the rights of mankind; and they attempted with heroic firmness to shake off the chains that galled their country. Yet a distinction should be made between the magistrates and the men called or calling themselves philosophers. The latter were really a set of authors and beaux esprits, who, aping the sentiments of Montesquieu, Rousseau, and Voltaire, especially of the latter, endeavoured to raise themselves to an independent rank, to a kind of legislation in the community. After attacking and throwing off Christianity, they ran wildly into the fondest and most absurd doctrines of the old Greek philosophers; and, with the lightness of their own nation, and prompted by arrogance and love of pre-eminent singularity, they wrote atheism with little reserve, and talked it without any. The chief of these vain and loquacious witlings were D’Alembert,203 Diderot, and that puny writer Marmontel. I am sorry to add to the list the name of a far more amiable and more profound man, M. Buffon, though, except in their indecent petulance, he too much resembled the rest of his cotemporaries in his sentiments. The women, who hurry into any new fashion, and then lead it, talked of matter and metaphysics with as little caution and as much ignorance as their directors. The magistrates of the Parliaments were very different men. Sober on the religion of their country, they meddled with it no farther than as it interfered with liberty; and few of them were so audacious in their most private conversation as to adopt the abominable licentiousness of the men I have been describing. But if they were decent on religion, they had not the same prudence in the conduct of their civil views. Heated by the term Parliament, they chose to believe, at least to inculcate the belief, that they were possessed of the rights of a British Senate. Nothing could be more meritorious than a struggle for such a system. But the Parliaments of France were not only nothing but courts of judicature, but the pretension was too early and too untimely to be yet pushed. As I had some friends in the Parliament of Paris, I remonstrated to them on the danger they ran of over-turning an excellent cause by their precipitation. To obtain solidly and step by step some material concessions, was the conduct they should have pursued. Whatever little they should so attain would be a benefit to the nation; time and precedent might add more. A minority or national distress would have opened a wider door; but by setting out with unbounded pretensions, unfounded in their Constitution, they warned the Crown to be on its guard; and, what was worse, they could depend on no support but in their own courage and in that uncertain resource, patriotic martyrdom. The Crown, popular in France whenever it pleases, and almost in any country, and powerful without popularity in that country, could not but regard their pretensions with the eye of jealousy. The nobility, ignorant, haughty, and willing to be tyrannized over by one that they might be authorized to tyrannize over thousands, were, and must be, disinclined to the extension of subordinate jurisdiction. The clergy were the natural and now the provoked enemies of the Parliaments. The military are seldom captivated by any franchises but their own; are devoted to the Crown, and led by, and composed of, the nobility: nor did the Parliaments take any pains to make a schism in the soldiery. Even the people, who would taste most benefit from acquisitions to liberty, were disinclined to the Parliaments. The Presidents purchase their charges, and enjoy them with a204 state and haughtiness that is ill-relished by the commonalty. Able manifestos were slight arms against such a combination of prejudices. While I staid in France I had an opportunity of seeing with what a momentary breath the Crown could puff away a cloud and tempest of remonstrances. Being pushed too home, the King, suddenly and very early in the morning, appeared in the Chamber of Parliament. The Magistrates were in bed, were summoned, and found the King surrounded with his guards, and with all the apparatus of majesty. He commanded four of his Ministers to take their seats at his feet in a place where they had no right. He called for the registers, tore out their remonstrances, enjoined silence to the Parliament, and departed. In the street he met the Sacrament, alighted from his coach, knelt in the dirt, and received the blessings of all the old beggar-women. By night the consternation was universal; no man dropped a word, unless in commendation of the King’s firmness. The Magistrates sighed, but respectfully. The philosophers were frightened out of their senses. In a few months the Parliaments recovered their spirit, and the Court again temporized. Yet when their memorials had been read, and had their vogue in common with the poems and operas of the week, the sensation ceased, and lettres de cachet lost nothing of their vigour.

There was scarce a man of quality in France above the rank of president that countenanced the cause. There was one of the blood royal that affected to be their protector; but too much despised by the Court, too inconsiderable and too half-witted to hurt anybody but himself. This was the Prince of Conti. Handsome and royal in his figure, gracious at times, but arrogant and overbearing, luxurious and expensive, he had gathered together a sort of Court of those who had no hopes at the King’s, but without the power of giving or receiving any support. Confused in his ideas, yet clear in his opinion of superior intelligence, he was at once diffuse and incomprehensible. The little tyrant of a puny circle, he gave himself for the patron of liberty. No man would have carried his own privileges farther. The Court took no umbrage at such a foe.205

It could not but be a singular satisfaction to me to find in so adverse a nation so few men whose abilities were formidable. One or two of the subordinate Ministers were men of domestic and civil address. The Prince de Soubise, a sensible man of fair character, who enjoyed the most personal favour with the King, and, it was thought, might be Minister if he pleased, had no ambition.206 The Maréchal d’Estrèes was a good-humoured old nurse;207 the Maréchal de Broglie208 as empty a man, except in the theory of discipline, as ever I knew. The Comte, his brother, who had more parts, had not enough to make them useful;209 and both brothers were in disgrace. The Marquess de Castries,210 a good officer, was not on any terms with Choiseul, and was no deep genius. The Duc de Praslin, the Minister’s cousin, was ill-tempered and disagreeable, and far from possessing superior abilities.211 The clergy were at a low ebb. The Archbishop of Toulouse, reckoned the most rising of the order, was aspiring and artful, but absorbed in his own attention to intrigue, which gave him an air of absence. He was only considerable by comparison.212 He and many of his order did not disguise their contempt for their own religion. As the women who had most sway were Freethinkers, a fashionable clergyman was by consequence an infidel. The ablest man I knew, and he as indiscreet as the Duc de Choiseul, was the old Comte de Maurepas. Lively, gay, and agreeable, he seemed to feel no regret for his disgrace, though he ought to have blushed at the imprudence that occasioned it. He had not only caused to be written, but himself, at his own table at Versailles, before a large company, had sung, a severe ballad on Madame de Pompadour. His fall and a long exile were the consequence. To make his ruin irrecoverable, she persuaded the King that he had poisoned a former mistress, the Duchesse de Chateauroux. From the same animosity, Madame de Pompadour had diverted a large sum that Maurepas had destined to re-establish their marine. Knowing his enmity to this country, I told him, and the compliment was true, that it was fortunate for England that he had been so long divested of power.213

Death of the Pretender.—Intrigues against the Ministry.—Debates on the Stamp Act, and the Petition from America.—First Speech of Mr. Edmund Burke.—Character of his Oratory.—Mr. William Burke.

On the first day of the year died at Albano that sport of fortune, the Chevalier de St. George, better known by the appellation of the Old Pretender. He had not only outlived his hopes, but almost all those who had given him any hopes. His party was dwindled to scarce any but Catholics; and though he left two sons, his line was verging to extinction. The second son was actually a Cardinal; the elder, sunk in drunkenness, despair, and neglect at Bouillon.214 His father’s death seemed a little to reanimate him: but that revival was but waking to new mortification. The Court of France did not even put on mourning for the father; and when Prince Charles determined to set out for Rome, the Pope despatched a courier to prevent him. The Roman nobility were not fond of being preceded even by a phantom of royalty; and both they and the College of Cardinals were apprehensive of the sottishness and rashness of the young man. The Pope dreaded the resentment of England, and feared an order to prohibit English travellers from visiting Rome; a mighty source of wealth to that city. And he,215 who had so obstinately protected the Jesuits against the threats of France and Spain, and who at last sacrificed part of his dominions216 to his zeal for the Order, had the timidity to renounce the most meritorious martyr of the Church, rather than expose himself to the very uncertain vengeance of a heretic Court. The Young Pretender persisted in his journey: the Pope as pertinaciously refused to acknowledge him for King of England; yet with the additional absurdity of continuing to style him Prince of Wales—though he could not be the latter without becoming the former. To such complete humiliation was reduced that ever unfortunate house of Stuart, now at last denied that empty sound of royalty by that Church and Court for which they had sacrificed three kingdoms! Pathetically might the Prince have exclaimed,

The Cardinal of York ceded to his brother the annuity he received from the Pope, whose only bounty, whose only grace was restricted to the allowance of that exchange.

About the same time died Frederick the Fifth, King of Denmark, in the forty-second year of his age:217 a good prince and beloved, and void of any capital fault but that northern vice drunkenness. If we may believe the history of that kingdom, no nation has been blessed with so many humane sovereigns. It is more remarkable that they have not grown worse since they became absolute.

Before, and during the adjournment of the Parliament, the Ministers perceived how little they could flatter themselves with the stability of their situation. From being persecuted by both factions of the old and new Administration, Lord Bute began to assume the style of holding the balance between both. He meant at least to show the new Ministers, that while they disdained to humble themselves before him, the success of their measures would be precarious. The Crown itself seemed inclined to consign its numbers to him against its own measures—a wise equilibrium, that either way produced confusion to its interests. Before Christmas, the Favourite had held a council of his creatures at the Earl of Northumberland’s; the meeting consisted of eighteen Lords and Commoners, and in the latter number was Charles Townshend. Dinners were afterwards given to twenty-five Lords by Bute himself, and others to the Commons by Lord Litchfield. And lest mankind should misapprehend the part the Favourite intended to take on the Stamp Act, Lord Denbigh, his standard-bearer, and Augustus Hervey, asked audiences of the King, and leave to resign their places, as they purposed to vote against the repeal. The farce was carried on by the King, and to prevent any panic in those who might have a mind to act the same part, his Majesty told them, that they were at liberty to vote against him and keep their places. This was, in effect, ordering his servants to oppose his Ministers. The latter, on this exigence, consulted Mr. Pitt, desired his advice for their conduct on the Stamp Act, and invited him to take the lead in their Administration. He replied, with his usual haughtiness, that he would give no advice but to his Majesty or the Parliament; that he would never sit at Council with Newcastle;218 and should think himself obliged to offer the Treasury to Lord Temple; and that there must be other arrangements. Those arrangements, he intimated, were, that whether Lord Temple accepted the Treasury or not, Lord Rockingham must not expect to continue there.

This answer being reported to the Council, who had obtained the King’s permission to make the overture, gave great offence, particularly to Newcastle, who found himself proscribed; and to Rockingham, who cared not whether he were proscribed or not, if he was to be divested of the Treasury. It was warmly decided that it would wound the King’s honour to send any more messages to a man who had thus often rejected his Majesty’s condescension. But though this message had been suffered, it had by no means had the King’s approbation, who now no longer wished that Mr. Pitt should unite with the present Ministers; and it was as little his intention to bind himself by the rules they prescribed to his honour. He did not despair of gaining Mr. Pitt alone and unconnected, who, the King and the Favourite flattered themselves, would be more complaisant than either of the factions. If indulged in his foreign plans, he was less likely than any man to interfere in the scheme of domestic power. Anything was to be sacrificed to accommodate the Favourite, to save his creatures, and to preserve his influence. Could that be maintained, the Crown would be rewarded with new extension of the prerogative. This reciprocal view was the key to all the secrets of the closet, was the source of all the indignities past, of the disgraceful fluctuation that ensued, and of all the humiliations that fell on the King himself, who unfortunately had been taught to prefer a forced authority to that which flows, and was so disposed to flow, from the love of his subjects.

On the 14th of January the Houses met. Lord Villiers219 and Mr. Thomas Townshend moved the Addresses. Seymour and Bamber Gascoyne, Nugent and Stanley, attacked the Ministers for their want of spirit against the Americans, and for suffering the authority of Parliament to be called in question by the rebellious Colonies. “The tax,” said Stanley, “was not a twentieth part of what they could afford to pay; but that was not the point: he had rather have a peppercorn to acknowledge our sovereignty, than millions paid into the Treasury without it.” As he was speaking, Mr. Pitt appeared in the House, and took the first opportunity of opening his mind, not only on the Stamp Act, but on the general situation of affairs. Though he had on other occasions, perhaps, exerted more powers of eloquence (though he was much admired now even in that light), yet the novelty and boldness of his doctrines, the offence he gave by them at home, and the delirium which they excited in America, made his speech rank in celebrity with his most famous orations. For these reasons, and as the repeal of the Stamp Act was the last great question on which he figured in the House of Commons, I shall be more particular in the detail of it, having received authentic notes from one that was present at the delivery, and therefore more to be depended on than the printed copy.220

He had come to town that morning, he said, unconcerted and unconnected, and not having arrived early enough, desired to hear the proposed Address read, which being done, he thought it, he said, a very proper one, though he should wish to separate from it the unhappy measure of the Stamp Act. No day had been so important since the time, a little above a century ago, when it had been debated whether we should be bond or free. More than ordinary circumspection was requisite on that nice, difficult, and hardly debateable question. Truth did extort from him that the compliment of early applied to the present meeting of Parliament did not belong to the American part of the question. He would have called the Parliament sooner. He then pronounced that the House of Commons did not represent North America. It had, as the Legislature, not as representatives, taxed North America. For him, the question was too hard; but, popular or unpopular, he would do as he thought right. Was there a set of men in this country by whom he had not been sacrificed? He saw before him a set of gentlemen whom he respected—some of them his old acquaintance; these were part of the Administration: but were there not other parts? One day one man was uppermost, another day, another man. Was there not an invisible influence from more quarters than one? No matter whence they came, if they did mischief—God knew whither this country was going! Had we not seen one Ministry changed after another, and passing away like shadows? All that could be done for this country was to place it in a safe situation. When he served his Majesty, he had mentioned it as his advice that he wished to have that part of the Act of Settlement enforced, which directs that every Minister should sign his opinion. Liberty formerly was not made use of as a horse to ride into employment upon; they rode into the field upon it, and left their bones there. As he might be deprived by ill health from attending his duty in the House when this question should come on, he begged leave to deliver his opinion then. He would repeal the Stamp Act immediately, and accompany it with a bill declaratory of their own high rights and privileges over that country, which should be done upon the most extensive plan. But he would repeat it, That House had no right to lay an internal tax upon America, that country not being represented.

General Conway said, he had the honour of agreeing with almost every word that had fallen from Mr. Pitt; but if there was any blame to be cast for not meeting the Parliament sooner, he must bear it in common with the rest of his Majesty’s servants who advised it. For himself he had been unworthily and accidentally called to the high employment he then bore; he had not studiously thrust himself into it, and could assure the right honourable gentleman that he should think himself happy to resign it to him whenever he should please to take it. Himself had not made use of liberty to ride into employment; it was indifferent to him, and he should be equally happy to turn his horse’s head and ride out again.

Mr. Pitt assured him that he had not glanced at him in any word he had uttered, he had too high an opinion of him. The only piece of advice he would give Mr. Conway was not to be ridden, and he dared to say he never would.221

Mr. Grenville said, the Stamp Act had been thoroughly considered, not hurried at the end of a session. It had passed through the different stages in full Houses with, he thought, only one division on it. “Look,” said he, “into Magna Charta; you will see we have a right to tax America; and that all laws are enacted by Commune Consilium Regni: and will the honourable gentleman then say we have not a right”—He was interrupted by Pitt; and, after some squabbling and explanation, Grenville continued: “Why then I understand the gentleman’s opinion to be, that you have a right on every other occasion except to lay an internal tax”—Being again interrupted, Mr. Pitt begged to be indulged in a few words by way of reply, and then, as was common with him, launched out into a new harangue: “Though the gentleman,” said he, “is armed at all points with Acts of Parliament, yet I will venture to say that if he was to take the three first words that he might find in a dictionary, they would be full as much to the purpose as his Commune Consilium Regni. Does he consider that, at the time he speaks of, the barons had all the land—though indeed the Church, God bless it! had then a third, when the bishops, mitred abbots, and such things, had influence? I laugh, sir, I laugh, when it is said this country cannot coerce America; but will you do it upon a point that is intricate, and in a matter of right that is disputed? Will you, after the Peace you have made, and the small pittance of the fishery that is left you, will you sheath your sword in the bowels of your brothers, the Americans? You may coerce and conquer, but when they fall, they will fall like the strong man embracing the pillars of this Constitution, and bury it in ruin with them. Gentlemen may double down Acts of Parliament till they are dogseared, it will have no effect upon me; I am past the time of life to be turning to books to know whether I love liberty or not. There are two or three lines of Prior applicable to the present question, supposing America in the situation of a wife: they are these, where he says—

“I don’t know how it is,” continued he, “when I had something to do in advising, there were always three hundred gentlemen ready to be of my opinion—I don’t know how it came about—perhaps it was their modesty—I wish they would not be quite so modest. Indeed there was one person who is now gone to the House of Lords, and sits there by an old barony,222 who was honest enough to disagree with me, and called it my German war: I have loved him ever since for being so honest to speak his mind; I see his employment is taken from him; had I been employed, he is one of the first persons I should have endeavoured to keep in, for no other reason but because he had differed with me. When I was in power, I do not doubt but I had friends who would have advised me to burn my fingers, and would have recommended such a tax as this. Look at past Ministers, and see what they thought of it. Lord Halifax,223 educated in this House, Lord Oxford,224 Lord Orford,225 a great revenue minister, never thought of THIS. If you had the right, it would be a fatal policy; for will not that people, if they share your taxes, claim the right of manufactures, of free trade, of every other privilege of the mother-country? An honourable gentleman talked of a barleycorn; I say this tax is but a barleycorn—fifty thousand pounds are but a barleycorn. Will you have your Treasury look big at the expense of two millions? My ideas and knowledge of America have been chiefly learnt from gentlemen of the army. There is not the captain of a company of foot that is not fit to be a Governor of North America. How can you depend upon Spain after the treatment she has shown to that brave and gallant officer,226 who has suffered for his lenity towards them at the Manillas, and now feels their perfidy? It were to be wished that the heart of every grandee in Spain beat as high as his! In the situation things are, nobody can trade in North America but a lawyer. I hate distinctions; I do not consider the soil or the cradle where a man is nursed; I look for sense and wisdom, if he has it. I have done all in my power to show I hate distinctions. Before this war it was a measure not to trust the sword in the hands of the northern part of his Majesty’s subjects; but the late war convinced everybody what just praise they deserved for their conduct.” Here he was called to order by Mr. Grenville, who said, “This is not the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, or sixth time that the honourable gentleman has mistaken or misrepresented. I have also been misrepresented upon other subjects, particularly with regard to the Spanish trade. I call upon gentlemen now in power to prove I gave any orders to prevent that trade, or any other, but at the request of the merchants themselves.” Here Mr. Grenville himself was called to order by Lord Strange, who observed, how much Pitt and Grenville had led the House astray from the debate; which Onslow excused by saying, that the first day of a Session, when the King’s speech is debated, is always understood to be a day of free conversation. Still much confusion ensued; and at last the Chancellor of the Exchequer227 said, in answer to Grenville, that when accounts relative to trade should be produced, they would prove to be in a melancholy state. Mr. Conway said, that the explanation which Mr. Pitt had been pleased to give, had relieved his mind; he considered from how high a drop fell that fell from him, and what an effect it had upon the rest of the world. He assured Mr. Pitt how ready he was, he would not say, to act with him, but under him, and declared he knew at present of no hidden influence. The Address passed without a negative.

Mr. Conway, then, by order of his Majesty, presented at the bar the letters and different intelligence to and from America, and moved to have them taken into consideration on the Thursday sevennight following.228 Mr. Rigby proposed to have them printed. Mr. Conway observed, that those papers mentioned particular names of men and their transactions, and therefore objected to the printing. Mr. Nugent said, Too much had been done now to leave any room for secrecy; and Mr. Conway gave it up. Huske229 told the House very properly, that, if they printed the names, they would never have any more intelligence: on which the Attorney-General proposed, as was done on the inquiry into the loss of Minorca, to print the papers, but omit names. It passed, however, for printing all. The next day Sir George Saville, who had been absent, and the Speaker,230 who had been uneasy at the order for printing the names, prevailed to have the order for the names revoked, and the Speaker was entrusted with the supervisal.

Mr. Pitt’s speech, as I have said, gave great offence, and even to the Scotch, though he had endeavoured to distinguish them from Lord Bute. It was a greater disappointment to the late Ministers, who had not expected that he would prove so favourable to their successors. Lord Sandwich, so recently a persecutor of Wilkes and the press, had now set up a most virulent and scurrilous paper, called Anti-Sejanus,231 written by one Scott, an hireling parson, and chiefly levelled at Lord Bute. Concluding that Mr. Pitt did not approve of any men who enjoyed the power at which he himself aimed, the new daily libel set out with profuse encomiums on him. It now took a short turn, and involved Mr. Pitt, too, in a medley of scurrility; but what with want of talents, what with want of decency, this paper was one of those few vehicles of ribaldry which was forced to put itself to death before the object of its patron was answered.

On the 27th of January, Mr. Cooke, of Middlesex, presented a petition from some of the North American provinces assembled in Congress, against the Stamp Act. Jenkinson and Dyson, placemen, but creatures of Lord Bute, opposed receiving it; as did Nugent and Ellis, who called it a dangerous federal union. Dowdeswell, the new Chancellor of the Exchequer, agreed with them, as there was nothing, he said, in the petition, but what had been already received in others from the separate provinces, and therefore he wished Cooke to withdraw what he had offered. Mr. Pitt warmly undertook the protection of the petition, which he affirmed was innocent, dutiful, and respectful. He did not know the time, he said, when he had been counsellor to timid councils; but on this occasion should have thought it happy to have made this the first act of harmony. He painted the Americans as people who, in an ill-fated hour, had left this country to fly from the Star Chamber and High Commission Courts. The desert smiled upon them in comparison of this country. It was the evil genius of this country that had riveted amongst them this union, now called dangerous and federal. He did not see but honest Wildman’s232 or Newmarket might be talked of in the same strain. This country upon occasion has its meetings, and nobody objects to them; but the names of six or eight Americans are to be big with danger. He could not guess, by the turn of the debate, whether the Administration intended lenity or not. To him lenity was recommended by every argument. He would emphatically hear the Colonies upon this their petition. The right of representation and taxation always went together and should never be separated. Except for the principles of Government, records were out of the question. “You have broken,” continued he, “the original compact, if you have not a right of taxation.” The repeal of the Stamp Act was an inferior consideration to receiving this petition.

Sir Fletcher Norton rose with great heat, and said, He could hardly keep his temper at some words that had fallen from the right honourable gentleman. He had said, that the original compact had been broken between us and America, if the House had not the right of taxation. Pitt rose to explain—Norton continued; “The gentleman now says, I mistook his words; I do not now understand them.” Pitt interrupted him angrily, and said, “I did say the Colony compact would be broken—and what then?” Norton replied, “The gentleman speaks out now, and I understand him; and if the House go along with me, the gentleman will go to another place.”233 Pitt at this looked with the utmost contempt, tossed up his chin, and cried, “Oh! oh!—oh! oh!” “I will bear that from no man,” said Norton: “changing their place, did not make Englishmen change their allegiance. I say the gentleman sounds the trumpet to rebellion; or would he have the strangers in the gallery go away with these his opinions? He has chilled my blood at the idea.” “The gentleman,” rejoined Pitt, “says I have chilled his blood: I shall be glad to meet him in any place with the same opinions, when his blood is warmer.”

Hussey, Colonel Barré, Thurlow, and, of the Ministerial people, Lord Howe and Onslow, only were for hearing the petition; but Conway objected, as it came from the Congress, and said, if the separate petitions had been heard last year, this would not have happened now. He wished to have the petition withdrawn, as he should be sorry to have a negative put upon it. George Grenville insisted on the House deciding as the question had been proposed. Burke, who maintained that the very presentation of the petition was an acknowledgment of the right of the House, declared for receiving it; but Lord John Cavendish and Alderman Baker declaring they thought it of little importance; and the former moving for the orders of the day, that motion was carried without a division.

There appeared in this debate a new speaker, whose fame for eloquence soon rose high above the ordinary pitch. His name was Edmund Burke, (whom I have just mentioned,) an Irishman, of a Roman Catholic family, and actually married to one of that persuasion.234 He had been known to the public for a few years by his “Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful,” and other ingenious works; but the narrowness of his fortune had kept him down, and his best revenue had arisen from writing for booksellers. Lord Rockingham, on being raised to the head of the Treasury, had taken Burke for his private Secretary, as Mr. Conway had his cousin William. Edmund immediately proved a bitter scourge to George Grenville, whose tedious harangues he ridiculed with infinite wit, and answered with equal argument. Grenville himself was not more copious; but, with unexhausted fertility, Burke had an imagination that poured out new ideas, metaphors, and allusions, which came forth ready dressed in the most ornamental and yet the most correct language. In truth, he was so fond of flowers, that he snatched them, if they presented themselves, even from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. His wit, though prepared, seldom failed him; his judgment often. Aiming always at the brilliant, and rarely concise, it appeared that he felt nothing really but the lust of applause. His knowledge was infinite, but vanity had the only key to it; and though no doubt he aspired highly, he seemed content when he had satisfied the glory of the day, whatever proved the event of the debate. This kind of eloquence contented himself, and often his party; but the House grew weary at length of so many essays. Having come too late into public life, and being too conceited to study men whom he thought his inferiors in ability, he proved a very indifferent politician—the case of many men I have known, who have dealt too much in books or a profession: they apply their knowledge to objects to which it does not belong, and think it as easy to govern men, when they rise above them, as they found when themselves were lower and led their superiors by flattery. It is perhaps more expedient for a man of mean birth to be humble after his exaltation than before. Insolence is more easily tolerated in an inferior, than in an inferior mounted above his superiors.235

William Burke, the cousin of Edmund, wrote with ingenuity and sharpness; and both of them were serviceable to the new Administration, by party papers. But William, as an orator, had neither manner nor talents, and yet wanted little of his cousin’s presumption.236 Edmund, though the idol of his party, had nothing of the pathetic and imposing dignity of Pitt, though possessed of far more knowledge, and more reasoning abilities. But Pitt could awe those whom he could no longer lead, and never seemed greater than when abandoned by all. Charles Townshend, who had studied nothing accurately or with attention, had parts that embraced all knowledge with such quickness, that he seemed to create knowledge instead of searching for it; and, ready as Burke’s wit was, it appeared artificial when set by that of Charles Townshend, which was so abundant, that in him it seemed a loss of time to think. He had but to speak, and all he said was new, natural, and yet uncommon. If Burke replied extempore, his very answers, that sprang from what had been said by others, were so painted and artfully arranged, that they wore the appearance of study and preparation: like beautiful translations, they seemed to want the soul of the original author. Townshend’s speeches, like the Satires of Pope, had a thousand times more sense and meaning than the majestic blank verse of Pitt; and yet, the latter, like Milton, stalked with a conscious dignity of pre-eminence, and fascinated his audience with that respect which always attends the pompous but often hollow idea of the sublime.

Irksome Position of the Ministers.—Debate on Five Resolutions on American Affairs.—The Ministers triumph on the first Resolution.—Continuation of the Debate.—Pitt’s eccentric Conduct.—Mr. Grenville moves an Address to the King, to enforce the Laws.—Opposed strenuously by Pitt.—Violent Scene in the House.—Double Dealing of George III.—Warm Debate on the Production of Papers.

The situation of the Ministers became every day more irksome and precarious. On the last day of January they carried a question by so small a majority, that, according to Parliamentary divination, it had all the aspect of an overthrow. Mr. Wedderburne had presented a Scotch petition, and moved to have it heard on that day month. The Ministers, disinclined to it, proposed to defer it for six weeks, and prevailed but by 148 against 139;237 the Grooms of the Bedchamber, Lord Strange, Chancellor of the Duchy, Lord Mount Stewart,238 Dyson, and even Lord George Sackville,239 so recently preferred by the Ministers, being in the minority, and Charles Townshend declining to vote. To shake the credit of the Ministers, at least to humble them by promoting a vigorous Opposition to their measures, Lord Bute’s agents affectedly sought the company of the discontented chiefs, and hung out to them hopes of Lord Bute’s support. His greatest dread was union against him; his constant and repeated practice, to break and divide all parties and connections. In the crisis of which I am speaking, he was particularly anxious to prevent the junction of Mr. Pitt and the Ministers. The latter, notwithstanding so many unpromising appearances, and having nothing to fear but the loss of their places if firm, of their characters if they temporized, maintained their ground, and

On February the 3rd Mr. Secretary Conway, in consequence of the papers that had been delivered and read in the Committee, proposed to vote five resolutions, which, he said, the world would expect in consequence of the notices laid before Parliament. A friend to the Americans he professed himself; but begged not to be understood to pledge himself for future measures, nor even for the repeal of the Stamp Act; yet could he but feel for that country, to whose miseries nothing was wanting but a scene of blood, and whose language was the language of despair? He thought them to blame; but he thought them pardonable. “The other day,” said he, “all had been peace and harmony in that country. All order of things had been reversed since the Stamp Act. The late Acts of Parliament had been so many repeated blows on those people. Look at other countries; they never bear fresh taxes. There was even then uneasinesses in the Colonies of our enemies. The richest provinces had been thrown away by the imposition of new taxes. He would mention the grievances of America historically, as the Sugar Act, and the swarms of cutters to interrupt the Spanish dollar trade. This Act was false in its principles, and dangerous in its policy. Himself should never be for internal taxes, and would sooner cut off his hand, than sign an order for sending out force to maintain them.” He then read the following resolutions:—

First.—That Great Britain had, hath, and ought to have full right and power to bind the Americans in all cases whatsoever.

Second.—That tumults have been carried on.

Third.—That the votes of the assemblies are illegal.

Fourth.—Humbly to address his Majesty to bring the authors of riots to condign punishment.

Fifth.—To address, that the sufferers by riots be compensated.

He added, that he looked on the right of taxation as a point of law; Parliament might take it up. If he was to be called to account for his letters, he repeated it again, he would do anything but exert military force. Whenever the blow should come, he would stand on his defence, and meet it like a man, with all the firmness of justice, and indifference of innocence.

Stanley spoke for supporting the dignity of the Constitution, and quoted Mr. Legge for having had views of raising assistance from America; which country, he had thought, ought to maintain its own army. Charles Yorke said, if it was impossible to carry the Stamp Act into execution, it was better to repeal it; the House might make free with its own work. Yet he talked much of the omnipotence of Parliament, and said, “Lord Coke had declared he did not know how to set bounds to its power. Our right was entire, supported by forms of precedents, and the language of the Constitution. The moment one part of the Legislature was given up, no friend would trust you, no enemy would fear you.” This trimming speech was ridiculed by Beckford. He saw, he said, no infallibility in an Act of Parliament: the learned gentleman had quoted nothing fairly; lawyers never did. He would prophecy, that the moment the Stamp Act should be repealed, it would be like the quarrels of lovers, the renewal of love. Nugent said, the subjects who went from this country, had carried with them their privileges, but had left their duty behind. Dr. Blackstone, an able writer, but an indifferent speaker, declared, Tory as he was, that Parliament had no right to impose internal taxes. Hussey pleaded for the Colonies, and urged that internal taxes had never been carried so far as by the Stamp Act. The House ought to have said, “Pay, or we will tax you.” To this hardship had been added that of taking away their trials by juries. He advised to exercise legislation with justice and humanity; and concluded, that Parliament ought to consider less the acts of the Americans, than their own. Wedderburne was as warm for sticking to fundamentals, as Hussey had been temperate. Burke, allowing the right of taxation, and that their own charters were against the Americans, was yet for temporizing, according to the variation of circumstances, the neglect of which had brought Ministers into disgrace. Principles should be subordinate to Government. The Stamp Act, on account of the dignity of the mischief it had produced, required the discussion of a particular debate. Lord Frederick Campbell objected to distinctions between theory and practice, which, he said, had brought on the Revolution. If the Americans carried with them their liberty, how came it that the King in Council had a right to tax them? Colonel Barré talked of the Americans as worse treated than French or Spanish provinces. The Chancellor of the Exchequer said, that the Parliament’s power of taking away their charters gave it a right of taxation; but to repeal the Act would be a safer way.

George Grenville, who had reserved all his fire for Conway, attacked him with the utmost animosity. The Americans had been blameable, but were pardonable according to the Secretary of State. For his part, he did not think rebellion pardonable. He had never advised to resist taxes; had never advised people to stand to their tackle and resist. Was there not an order under the gentleman’s own hand, in papers on the table, to send a military force? and yet, forsooth, he would sooner cut off that hand! His insinuation was void of truth; there were no cutters sent to the West Indies; no such orders to cruize on the Spanish trade. He had proposed, and now called on the House to fix a day for inquiring into that affair. For shame! let it not be repeated any more. First let the business be done, and then let it be known by whose fault affairs had been brought to the present crisis.

Mr. Pitt made another oration on general liberty, and in favour of the Colonies, but not various enough from the former to demand being particularized. Sir Fletcher Norton answered him with equal warmth—and then burst out such a confutation of the lies Mr. Grenville had been venting, that it was wonderful how even his pallid features could quench the blush of shame. Conway acquainted the House that he had two letters in his hand, one from Sir William Burnaby,240 acquainting him that the Spanish trade could not go on under the present regulations; and he offered to read them to the House, or give them to Mr. Grenville himself. “I may be mistaken,” said Conway; “but he shall not say I misrepresent.” Grenville still repeated that there were no such orders given to regulate that trade. Admiral Keppel said, he could take upon himself to affirm that that trade had suffered; and Huske undertook to prove to the House, that orders had been given by the Treasury under Mr. Grenville’s Administration, relative to the restrictions laid on the Spanish trade: and Mr. Grenville had no more to say. At near three in the morning the question was put, and the first resolution was carried without a division, Mr. Pitt’s, and four or five voices only, dissenting: the rest of the propositions were adjourned to another day.241

In the House of Lords the Opposition ran the Ministers nearer, and even carried one or two questions by majorities of four and five. Lord Bute himself, almost acting patriotism, said, Nothing should oblige him to be for the King’s wish if he did not approve the measures of the King’s Ministers. In the House of Commons the sittings were long, repeated, and full of warmth; but the Ministers, supported by the popularity of the measure, and by the ascendant of Pitt, (which never appeared more conspicuously, though eccentric,) pursued their point, and weak as they were from the treachery of the Court, from their own inexperience, and from deficiency of great talents, were able to weather the various storms that concurred, and concurred only, for their destruction.242

On the 5th the House went again on the resolutions. To the second Dyson proposed to add, whereby the execution of an Act of the last session of Parliament has in such provinces been defeated. This was opposed, particularly by Mr. Pitt, though he said his support could be of little efficacy to American liberty, standing as he did almost naked in that House, like a primæval parent, naked, because innocent; naked, because not ashamed. Elliot declared for moderating rather than for repealing the Act, and Grenville himself agreed that it might be altered; on which Burke triumphed and taunted him: and Pitt, to whom Grenville had made compliments, declaring that there he would make his stand, the amendment was withdrawn. The third resolution passed without contradiction. The fourth, Conway himself offered to give up, as too severe; and Pitt, with encomiums on his constitutional lenity, encouraging him to depart from it, it was withdrawn. The fifth occasioned more debate. Nugent proposed to correct the words, recommend to governors to recompense the sufferers, and to substitute the word require; and the Master of the Rolls declaring the whole resolution illegal, as the House could not recommend in cases of money, that motion, too, was given up. Grenville proposed others for compensation, protection, and indemnification to the officers of the revenue, &c. Pitt went away, after highly praising the Ministers, protesting how desirous he was of agreeing with them, and assuring them that, as far as he could support them, they might depend on his support. Grenville’s motions carried on the debate for two hours more; when both sides, fearing to divide, and Elliot moderating, Grenville was, with much difficulty, persuaded to suffer the amendment of his motions. Those questions and alterations may be found in the journals; nor do I pretend to great accuracy in words of that sort: the sense and substance I mean to give, the forms may be collected by historians, or corrected by critics. It is the business of the former, the existence of the latter, to be nice in minutiæ.243

On the 7th of February the Opposition determined to try their strength. Mr. Conway acquainted the Committee that though the voluminous quantity of his correspondences prevented his being able as yet to lay them before the House; still that they deserved the most important consideration, as representing the deplorable state of that unfortunate country, America, where all was anarchy and confusion—without courts, without laws, without justice; and yet he had not heard a breath of disloyalty,—it was the countenance of despair. They looked upon their trade and liberty as gone; and yet he thought it his duty to acquaint the House that one of his correspondents was of opinion that the Stamp Act might still be carried into execution.

Mr. Grenville, untouched and unmoved by so calamitous a picture, moved to address the King to give orders for enforcing the laws, and for carrying all Acts of the English Parliament into execution. Charles Townshend, making a merit of not having declared his opinion on the repeal, approved the Address, and yet disliked the latter words, which could be interpreted to be levelled at nothing but the Stamp Act. This was much extended by Burke; faintly taken up by Yorke; and the motion supported on the other side by Jenkinson and Norton. Mr. Pitt, who arrived under extreme pain, argued against the proposed Address with unusual strength of argument, and demonstrated the absurdity of enforcing an Act which in a very few days was likely to be repealed. He encouraged a division rather than the admission of such an Address. Such a question, followed by such a majority as he foresaw would be against the Address, would show the weakness of the wisdom, and the weakness of the numbers of those who proposed and approved it. Supposing orders should be sent out immediately, in consequence of such an Address, to enforce the Act, the scene that would ensue would make the Committee shudder; what could follow but bloodshed, and military execution in support of a law, which perhaps might be repealed in a week’s time, and our Governors abroad might go on enforcing it after it was repealed? When he was Secretary of State, the fleet lay wind-bound in the Channel for nine or eleven weeks—what would be the consequence of such an event now? He pressed Grenville to withdraw his motion; and then, excusing himself on his illness, went away.

Grenville, as obdurate as the winds of which Pitt had talked, and who, having checked a glorious war, seemed to promise himself other triumphs over his countrymen, expatiated on the haughtiness of Pitt, and denounced curses on the Ministers that should sacrifice the sovereignty of Britain over her Colonies. Conway retorted on the inhumanity of Grenville, and that sort of intrepidity that menaced two millions of people, who were not in a situation to revenge themselves; and by apt allusion to Grenville’s remorseless despotism, told him that Count d’Ocyras,244 the most intrepid Minister that ever was, had yet rescinded the duties in the Brazils. In confirmation of Mr. Pitt’s arguments, he told the House the packet would depart in two days; was it advisable to let it carry this precipitate, and perhaps useless Address to America? useless, if the Stamp Act was repealed, as he avowed he hoped it would be. Nugent argued on the danger of giving way; on the spirit of resistance this would infuse into the Irish; and on the contempt with which France would treat our demands, if we knew not how to govern our own subjects. The resolutions of the House, unenforced, would, he said, be holding a harlequin’s sword over the heads of the Colonists. Lord Granby declared for, and Sir George Saville against, the Address. Beckford was bitter on Grenville; and Norton so abusive on Yorke, that Sir Alexander Gilmour told him, in his own famous phrase, that he could have kept company with nothing but drunken porters. Colonel Onslow with more good humour, said, he looked upon the altercation between the two learned gentleman (Yorke and Norton) as a race for the Chancellorship. Much personal heat, however, ensued, and put an end to the debate, when the motion for leaving the Chair, which had been proposed by Yorke, was carried (and the Address consequently rejected) by 274 to 134; the very majority being greater than the whole amount of the Opposition; though Lord Bute’s friends and all the Scotch and the Tories, and Lord Granby, and near a dozen of the King’s own servants, voted in the minority. It was matter of ridicule, that in the lists given out by Lord Sandwich, their faction had been estimated at 130; and Lord Bute’s tools had vaunted that he could command fourscore or ninety votes. The astonishment and mortification of Grenville and the Bedfords were unequalled. They had quarrelled with and defied the Favourite when they were in power; and were now seeking and courting his support, when he seemed to have lost his power almost as much as they had.

The Ministers, however triumphant, were with reason disgusted at the notorious treachery of the Court; and remonstrated to the King on the behaviour of his servants. Evasions and professions were all the replies; but no alteration of conduct in consequence. On the contrary, within two days after the last division in the House of Commons, a scene broke forth that exhibited a duplicity, at once so artful, and yet so impolitic, so narrow-minded in its views, and so dangerous in its tendency, that the warmest partizans of royalty, of the Princess, and of the Favourite, will never be able to efface the stain. What crooked counsels, and how insincere the mind, which could infuse or imbibe such lessons!

Lord Strange, one of the placemen who opposed the repeal of the Stamp Act, having occasion to go into the King on some affair of his office, the Duchy of Lancaster, the King said, he heard it was reported in the world, that he (the King) was for the repeal of that Act. Lord Strange replied, that idea did not only prevail, but that his Majesty’s Ministers did all that lay in their power to encourage that belief, and that their great majority had been entirely owing to their having made use of his Majesty’s name. The King desired Lord Strange to contradict that report, assuring him it was not founded. Lord Strange no sooner left the closet than he made full use of the authority he had received, and trumpeted all over the town the conversation he had had with the King. So extraordinary a tale soon reached the ear of Lord Rockingham, who immediately asked Lord Strange if it was true what the King was reported to have said to him? The other confirmed it. On that, Lord Rockingham desired the other to meet him at Court, when they both went into the closet together. Lord Strange began, and repeated the King’s words; and asked if he had been mistaken? The King said, “No.” Lord Rockingham then pulled out a paper, and begged to know, if on such a day (which was minuted down on the paper) his Majesty had not determined for the repeal? Lord Rockingham then stopped. The King replied, “My Lord, this is but half;” and taking out a pencil, wrote on the bottom of Lord Rockingham’s paper words to this effect: “The question asked me by my Ministers, was, whether I was for enforcing the Act by the sword, or for the repeal? Of the two extremes I was for the repeal; but most certainly preferred modification to either.”

It is not necessary to remark on this story. The King had evidently consented to the repeal, and then disavowed his Ministers, after suffering them to proceed half-way in their plan, unless it is an excuse that he secretly fomented opposition to them all the time. His middle way of modification, tallying exactly with what had been proposed in the House of Commons by Elliot and Jenkinson, proved that, notwithstanding all his Majesty’s and Lord Bute’s own solemn professions, the latter was really Minister still; and that no favour could be obtained but by paying court to him. In such circumstances is it wonderful that the nation fell into disgrace and confusion, or that the Crown itself suffered such humiliations? A King to humour a timid yet overbearing Favourite, encouraging opposition to his own Ministers! What a picture of weakness!

On the 17th happened another very warm debate, occasioned by Mr. Dowdeswell’s moving to discharge the order for printing the American papers, the Speaker having declared that it was impossible to omit proper names and preserve the sense. The Opposition called this inconsistency, and threw all the ridicule they could on the Ministers, for what they termed variation and unsettled conduct. Wedderburne, in particular, a very fluent, acute, and bitter speaker, imputed these changes to the orders of Mr. Pitt. “The oracle has appeared, the oracle has spoken,” said he; “those gentlemen have prostrated themselves before it; but I tremble to think what will become of them for their inconsistencies. How will they expiate their crime? how atone for it? I would advise them to make pilgrimages to Hayes. Perhaps he may require human sacrifices.” Beckford and Conway reproached him for not having ventured to attack Mr. Pitt when he was present. Rigby turned his artillery on Conway, who had dropped that he had been forced into his present situation. “I have heard,” said Rigby, “of a médecin malgré lui, never of a Minister malgré lui; nor am I apt to think that people who do not like their situations, exert all their abilities—they do not do their best: I dare say the honourable gentleman does not do his best. I look upon timidity in a Minister to be as bad as cowardice in a General.” Lord George Sackville said, “May we ever have such a Minister malgré lui, who is ready to serve his country and rescue the dignity of the Sovereign from being insulted!”

Conway, roused by the brutality of Rigby, yet too apt to bear public abuse with phlegmatic patience, both from conscious intrepidity, and from knowing that such public jarrings are always hindered from coming to private decision, replied with uncommon ability and applause. “The gentleman had talked,” he said, “of timidity in a Minister and cowardice in a General;—as to timidity on the present measure, the House would judge whether his conduct had been timid. Cowardice he was sure the honourable gentleman did not mean to apply to him;” said he, “I know him too well; he would scarcely have taken an improper occasion to call me coward; I have a better opinion of his courage than that comes to. The other gentleman, who had talked of the oracle, had better have said that on the last debate—but why had he said it at all? Was it not known that those gentlemen had courted and idolized the idol, and had been rejected?” The debate was at length closed by Mr. Vane,245 who told a story of Sir Robert Walpole and Mr. Pulteney, in the Administration of the former. Mr. Pulteney had made a motion for papers, and Sir Robert granted them; but immediately went to Mr. Pulteney and told him that what he had done would be the occasion of many persons losing their lives, besides the mischief he would entail on future Ministers. Mr. Pulteney was struck, and withdrew his motion. In like manner the order for printing was now set aside without a division.

Lord Bute humiliates the Duke of Bedford and Mr. Grenville.—General Conway moves the Repeal of the Stamp Act.—Obtains leave to bring in a Bill.—Excited State of the Country.—Recommitment moved and rejected.—Desultory Opposition.—Final Debate.—The Repeal passed by a large Majority.—Conduct of Lord Rockingham.

While the House of Commons was busied in continuing to read American papers, and in other necessary affairs of the year, various attempts were carrying on for cementing that union between Lord Bute and the Opposition in reality, which seemed to exist, and in their votes did exist between them in Parliament. I have said that the Favourite every now and then hung out, by the intervention of his creatures, hopes of his pardon and protection to the late Ministers—with little sincerity, as the event showed. Partly, I believe, his conduct was actuated by a view of aweing the new Ministers into more deference for him; partly to prevent the diminution of the Crown’s authority, by relaxation towards the Americans. Certain it is, that Colonel Graeme, the Queen’s Secretary and much a confident, had indirectly and by an oblique channel opened a kind of negotiation. George Grenville, the most untractable of men, and the most unforgiving, recoiled at the proposal; and, even to save his darling Act, could scarce be brought to bow the knee again to the Favourite. It was with difficulty that he would hear of any other terms but a dismission of the Ministers before the fatal repeal should be passed. At length, the severe attacks made on him in the House of Commons, and threats of impeachments for having suppressed material notices, relative to the dangerous situation and humour of the Colonies, even from the year 1764, which Lord Halifax had been ordered by the King to lay before Parliament and had stifled, wrought on his stubborn temper; to which were added the despotic command of his imperious and intriguing elder brother, who, however, had the address to wriggle himself out of open genuflexion to the Favourite. By the intervention of the Duke of York, Lord Temple prevailed to have a meeting, of himself, his brother, and the Duke of Bedford, with the Favourite, at the house of Lord Eglinton, a Scotch emissary, alternately devoted to the Duke of York, to the Favourite, and to Lord Temple; at the same time Lord of the Bedchamber to the King. Towards the middle of January this extraordinary congress was settled and brought to bear; though, at the hour of meeting, Lord Temple excused himself from attending it. The Favourite, however, had the triumph of beholding the Duke of Bedford and George Grenville prostrate before him, suing for pardon, reconciliation, and support. After enjoying this spectacle of their humiliation for some minutes, the lofty Earl, scarce deigning to bestow upon them above half a score monosyllables, stiffly refused to enter into connection with them; on which the Duke of Bedford said, hastily, “he hoped, however, that what had passed would remain a profound secret.” “A secret!” replied the Favourite, “I have done nothing I am ashamed of,—has your Grace?”—and quitted the room. As if Lord Bute’s refusal of secrecy made it prudent to expose even more than Lord Bute could tell, the Duke went home, and at dinner, with sixteen persons, and before all the servants, he related what had passed; and then said to the Duchess and his court, “I was against taking this step, but you would make me.” Not nine months had intervened between the dismission of his brother Mackenzie by that faction, and their abject application to the Favourite for protection. What a trade is the politician’s, when it can so debase the human mind! Comfort yourself, ye poor, ye necessitous; what is the servility of your lot compared to this of titles and riches?

On the 21st of February the House of Commons came at last to the great question of the repeal of the Stamp Act. The Opposition endeavoured to fight it off by pretending fresh accounts were that very morning arrived of a disposition in some of the Colonies, particularly New York, to submit to the Act; from whence was inferred the inutility of repealing it. But this was properly treated as the lie of the day; and had no effect. General Conway moved for leave to bring in a bill to repeal that Act; and drew an affecting and alarming picture of the mischiefs it had occasioned and threatened. All orders for goods from this country were stopped: the North Americans would neither take any more, nor pay for what they had had. Eight merchants, who had received orders to the amount of 400,000l., had received counter-orders. The debt to those merchants amounted to 950,000l. Antigua was near ruined by famine. The tax fell chiefly on the poor, particularly on the poor of Georgia. At home, the situation of our manufacturers was most calamitous. Nottingham had dismissed a thousand hands: Leicester, Leeds, and other towns in proportion. Three in ten of the labourers of Manchester were discharged. The trade of England was not only stopped, but in danger of being lost. If trade suffered, land would suffer in its turn. Petitions would have been sent from every trading town in England, but that they apprehended that the very hearing of their petitions would delay the repeal. Every part of the Act breathed oppression. It annihilated juries: and the Admiralty courts might drag a man three hundred miles from his habitation. The fisheries were in equal danger. The right of taxation he did not doubt would be given for us in Westminster Hall; but the conflict would ruin both countries. We had but five thousand men in three thousand miles of territory: the Americans an hundred and fifty thousand fighting men. If we did not repeal the Act, he did not doubt but France and Spain would declare war, and protect the Americans. As the Colonies would not take our manufactures, they would set up of their own. He had a piece of cloth, he said, in his pocket, made at Philadelphia, as cheap as in England. Would the House risk the whole for so trifling an object as this Act modified?

I will not detail the rest of the debate, the essence of which had been so much anticipated. The great, and no trifling argument on the other side, was the danger from being beaten out of an Act of Parliament, because disagreeable to those on whom it fell; and the high probability that the Americans would not stop there; but, presuming on their own strength, and the timidity of the English Government, would proceed to extort a repeal of the Act of Navigation. Grenville particularly exposed the futility of declaring a right which the Government would not dare to exert: and he pushed the Ministers home with giving up the brightest jewel of the Crown, the right of taxation. How would they justify it to his Majesty?—how to future Administrations? Mr. Pitt, who acknowledged his perplexity in making an option between two such ineligible alternatives, pronounced, however, for the repeal, as due to the liberty of unrepresented subjects, and in gratitude to their having supported England through three wars. He begged to stand a feeble isthmus between English partiality and American violence. He would give the latter satisfaction in this point only. If America afterwards should dare to resist, he would second a resolution of the most vigorous nature to compel her with every man and every ship in this country.

At half an hour past one in the morning the committee divided, and the motion was carried by 275 to 167. This majority, though the question was but a prelude to the repeal, decided the fate of that great political contest. And though Lord Rockingham with childish arrogance and indiscretion vaunted in the palace itself that he had carried the repeal against the King, Queen, Princess-dowager, Duke of York, Lord Bute, the Tories, the Scotch, and the Opposition, (and it was true he had,) yet in reality it was the clamour of trade, of the merchants, and of the manufacturing towns, that had borne down all opposition.246 A general insurrection was apprehended as the immediate consequence of upholding the bill; the revolt of America, and the destruction of trade, was the prospect in future. A nod from the Ministers would have let loose all the manufacturers of Bristol, Liverpool, Manchester, and such populous and discontented towns, who threatened to send hosts to Westminster to back their demand of repeal. As it was, the lobby of the House, the Court of Requests, and the avenues were beset with American merchants. As Mr. Conway went away they huzzaed him thrice, stopped him to thank and compliment him, and made a lane for his passage. When Mr. Pitt appeared, the whole crowd pulled off their hats, huzzaed, and many followed his chair home with shouts and benedictions. The scene changed on the sight of Grenville. The crowd pressed on him with scorn and hisses. He, swelling with rage and mortification, seized the nearest man to him by the collar. Providentially the fellow had more humour than spleen—“Well, if I may not hiss,” said he, “at least I may laugh,”—and laughed in his face. The jest caught—had the fellow been surly and resisted, a tragedy had probably ensued.

On the following Monday, when the report was to be made from the committee, Grenville’s friends, seeing the inutility of their struggles, laboured to persuade him to contest the matter no farther; but it was too much to give up his favourite bill and his favourite occupation, talking, both at once. The last debate, too, had been much abridged by the impatience of the committee, worn out by so many successive discussions of the same subject. Many speakers had not been attended to; others forced to sit down without being heard. Something of this was imputed to the partiality of Rose Fuller, the Chairman; and, before he could make his report, Mr. Shifner ironically proposed to thank him for his great impartiality;247 Onslow defended, and moved to thank him seriously. This provoked so much, that Fuller was accused of not doing his duty by suppressing the riots and insults offered to several members who had voted against the repeal. The indignities heaped on George Grenville were particularized; and he himself said that both England and America were now governed by the mob. Conway quieted the dispute by declaring the pains taken by the Administration to prevent far greater tumults and extensive petitioning.

Lord Strange then proposed to postpone the Report, that, since repeal was intended, the House might rescind its resolution on the right of taxing, which would be inconsistent with giving it up. This the majority would not allow; and Dyson, on the modifying plan, hinting that internal taxes might be laid to ascertain the right, Lord Palmerston said, that modifying would be giving up the right and retaining the oppression. The Report being then made, Oswald moved to recommit it. Hussey showed the badness of the Act, which all allowed, (even Grenville having offered to correct it,) and declared the most advisable method was a requisition to the Provinces to raise money for the service of the Government. Norton broke out on the resistance of the Colonies, and said, that to resist a known law was High Treason. Huske, a wild, absurd man, very conversant with America, had still sense enough to show that the Americans could not be independent, for they would be obliged to lay an internal tax for the support of their own paper-currency, and could not impose that tax without the consent of Parliament. T. Townshend referred to a letter of Governor Bernard (a great favourite of Grenville, and warm for the sovereignty of England) in which he had advised to get rid of the Stamp Act. At eleven at night the recommitment was rejected by 240 to 133; and the Bill for Repeal was ordered to be brought in.

Dr. Blackstone then moved an instruction to the committee for bringing in the bill, that all votes of the Assemblies should be expunged that were repugnant to the rights of the Legislature of Great Britain. Mr. Yorke said, that an Act declaratory of the right would be a virtual expunging of their votes. This George Grenville treated with much contempt, and as a mere evasion; and let loose all his acrimony against the Ministers for reversing his Stamp Act. Conway said he was surprised at so much fondness for a bill which the late Ministers had so much neglected while they had power to enforce it. He had been looking for the orders they had given, and could find but one, and that from the Treasury, settling how much poundage should be deducted from the profits of the Stamp-duty. This had been their only order till the 12th of July, when they had determined to send a military force. (This was at the conclusion of their power.) Grenville replied, orders had been given, for Stamp-officers had been appointed. At near two in the morning Dr. Blackstone’s motion was rejected without a division.

The Bill of Repeal was but faintly opposed in its course, the Opposition reserving their fire for the third reading. Wedderburne and Dyson, however, moved to annex a clause declaratory of the law, and enacting that in case any person or persons should print, or cause to be printed, any paper calling the said law in question, or abuse it in any manner whatsoever, should be guilty of a præmunire. The Ministers objected; and Rose Fuller, with severe invectives on the Tories, said such a motion would have been well-timed in the reigns of Henry VIII. or Charles II. Wedderburne replied by showing he had taken the words of his motion from the Act of Settlement. The motion was rejected.

March 4th was fixed for passing the declaratory Bill of Right, and the Repeal. Mr. Pitt objected again to the first, and avowed his opinion that the Parliament had no right of taxing North America while unrepresented. “He had heard,” he said, “that this opinion had been treated in his absence as nonsense, as the child of ignorance, as the language of a foreigner who knew nothing of the Constitution. Yet the common law was his guide; it was civil law that was the foreigner.” To this he added severe reflections on Dr. Hay, the person he alluded to, for having adopted arbitrary notions from the civil law. “For himself, he was sorry to have been treated as an overheated enthusiastic leveller, yet he had served the highest and best Prince in Christendom, and the most valiant and brave nation, and never would change his opinions till the day of his death. If he was one of the weakest men in the kingdom, at least he was one of the soberest;248 had no animosities, no pursuits; he wished to live and die a dutiful subject, and to see such an Administration as the King should like, and the people approve. Wales had never been taxed till represented; nor did he contend for more than had been given up to Ireland in the reign of King William.” He quoted one or two authors; said he was a solitary, unconversing man, and not a very reading man neither; but he loved old books and old friends; and though his books and his opinions might be nonsensical, he should still adhere to them; and declared he never gave his dissent with more dislike to a question than he now gave it at present.” Dr. Hay excused himself, and pleaded having been misrepresented; and then he and Rigby argued for the repeal, if it must pass, without the declaratory law. Mr. Pitt moved to leave out the words in all cases whatsoever; and the debate turned chiefly on the resemblance or non-resemblance of Ireland to America, in the privileges enjoyed by the former. The amendment was rejected, and the bill passed.249

The Bill for Repeal was then read for the last time, and eagerly and obstinately combated by Grenville and his party. Bamber Gascoyne produced a letter written to Liverpool, by Sir William Meredith, in which the latter had said to the Mayor, “Lord Bute’s friends, Mr. Grenville’s party and the rank Tories, voted for this bloody question; and considering we had been beaten twice in the House of Lords, we were surprised to find our numbers were 275 to 167; I hope soon to send you word of the repeal. P. S.—Mr. Pitt will soon be at the head of affairs.”

Pitt rose and said, He had heard somewhere, no matter where—a bird in the air had told him—of a meeting that had lately been held (between Bute, Bedford, and Grenville) of which he could not learn the particulars; but had heard that at that meeting the noble Lord (Bute) behaved like himself and like a nobleman. It was a name which had been much bandied about in a way it did not deserve. “I am inflexibly bent,” continued he, “to resist his return to power; but how could that prophet (Sir W. Meredith) imagine a thing so improbable as that I should be at the head, when I am so extremely at the tail of affairs, as I am now, with five friends in the other House, and four in this? In the order and class of salutary and preventive things, I never felt greater satisfaction than in giving my vote for this repeal. You could not subsist and be a people with that defalcation of imports. America is over-glutted with nothing but the Stamp Act. Nothing but a disposition to heal and strengthen the Government can make you a people. I have my doubts if there would have been a Minister to be found who would have dared to have dipped the royal ermines in the blood of the Americans. This country, like a fine horse, to use a beautiful expression of Job, whose neck is clothed in thunder, if you soothe and stroke it, you may do anything; but if an unskilful rider takes it in hand, he will find that, though not vicious, yet it has tricks. I repeat it, I never had greater satisfaction than in the repeal of this Act.”

This speech gave great offence to Grenville, who replied, “Let his bird have told him what it would, yet, in justice to the noble Lord (Bute), he would declare that it was impossible to behave better than he had done; but why was that meeting mentioned? to what end? He had heard a bird speak, too, of a meeting, or meetings, on other occasions. But the gentleman had doubted whether a Minister would have been found to dip the royal ermines in blood;—no, sir, not dip the royal ermines in blood; but I am one who declare, if the tax was to be laid again, I would do it; and I would do it now if I had to choose; since he has exerted all his eloquence so dangerously against it, it becomes doubly necessary. It is necessary from the increase of the debt in the late war; he knows I was against the enormous expense of the German war. Are all those boasted triumphs shrunk to the meanness of supporting such a measure as this? I envy not the popularity; let him have the bonfire; I rejoice in the hiss. Was it to do again, I would do it.”

Pitt desired to say one word in answer. “What that bird, alluded to two years ago, did say, I will tell gentlemen. The noble Lord (Bute) came to my lodging on a message from the King—I suppose because I was lame—not to converse with a hermit, but about coming into the King’s service. The noble Lord behaved with great fairness. I had an interview; was dismissed with the same marks of favour by the King. Some time ago I had another meeting with a royal person (Duke of Cumberland), who is no more. I objected to the brother of the noble Lord being Minister for Scotland; had no objection to his having a sinecure. I was again dismissed with the same graciousness by the King. But I am charged with the expense of the German war. If the honourable gentleman had such strong objections to that war, why did he not resign his post of Treasurer of the Navy?” Grenville had nothing to reply; and in fact it ill became him to plead disapprobation of measures in which he had concurred, rather than resign so very lucrative an employment.

The repeal passed by 250 to 122. It made its way even through the House of Lords by a majority of more than thirty, but was followed by a strenuous protest drawn up by Lord Lyttelton. Lord Camden took the same part as Mr. Pitt, and declared against the right of taxing. He also detected Lord Mansfield, who had quoted two laws that had never existed. As I am possessed of no notes relative to the debates in that House, I do not pretend to extend the detail of them. The most remarkable event was Lord Bute’s speaking: he censured the timidity of the repeal, wished to see firm and able Ministers, and denied enjoying any present influence, and protested against accepting any future power.

The victorious Ministers having thus secured a majority on the most difficult point, determined to make use of it to alleviate other aggrieved subjects, and to extend their own popularity. The tax on Cider had given great uneasiness to the Western counties, particularly from its being collected by the mode of excise. The City of London had adopted those disgusts; and Lord Bute, under whose Administration the tax had been laid, had sunk beneath the panic after he had carried the measure. To alter that mode of collection was the next step taken by the Ministers; and they found it no difficult task to obtain the assent of so time-serving a Parliament, who by turns enacted and repealed whatever was proposed to them, and who supported every successive Minister of that period, and deserted him the moment he lost his power. I do not know that other Parliaments have not, or would not have been as bad; but no Parliament ever had so many opportunities of being impudent. The Opposition not well pleased with Lord Bute’s ineffectual support, and angry that he did no more than encourage them to oppose, were little anxious to save the honour of his Cider Act, and the repeal of the excise passed easily.

In all these debates, nothing was more marked than the acrimony between Grenville and Conway. The latter appeared to be a much abler man of business than had been expected. Mr. Dowdeswell, on the contrary, sunk much in the estimation of mankind, and seemed but a duller edition of Mr. Grenville, though without his malignity. Never did the intemperate rage of talking, which possessed the latter, display itself more copiously than on the debates relative to the Stamp Act. It occasioned his being ridiculed with much humour.

The man who did not make long speeches, but who absented himself on pretence of illness on most of the debates, was Charles Townshend. He was afraid, by speaking, of losing a place which nothing had given, nothing could preserve, but his speaking.

But though the heat of the day lay on Conway, the power was solely engrossed by Lord Rockingham. He admitted the Duke of Grafton and Mr. Conway to no partnership. He was even so indiscreet as to bestow on a relation of his own the vacant place of Commissioner of the Revenue in Ireland, which had been promised by Lord Hertford, the Lord-Lieutenant, to an Irishman of note.250 This occasioned ill-blood between the Lord-Lieutenant, Conway’s brother, and the head of the Treasury. Lord Hertford, whose great property lay in that country, and who had always assiduously courted the Irish, was at first very successful there. But his economic temper, malevolently exaggerated, and too great propensity to heap emoluments on his children, though in few instances, and an appearance of similitude in the disposition of his son, Lord Beauchamp, soured the conclusion of that Session of Parliament, and occasioned to the Viceroy several mortifications.

Difficulties of the Ministry.—Further Negotiation with Mr. Pitt.—Meeting of Ministers.—The Seals given to the Duke of Richmond.—Grant to the Royal Dukes.—Portion of the Princess Caroline.—Treachery of Dyson.—Conduct of the Chancellor.—Virtual Fall of the Rockingham Administration.

The traverses which the English Ministers experienced, increased every day. The King was not only in opposition to himself, and had connived at Lord Bute’s seducing such of his servants as were connected with that Favourite to vote against the measures of Government, and, in truth, those servants were some of the ablest men in the House of Commons, as Elliot, Dyson, Martin, and Jenkinson, besides Sir Fletcher Norton, who, though displaced, was at the beck of the Favourite; but his Majesty, at Lord Bute’s recommendation, actually bestowed a vacant regiment on Colonel Walsh, Lieutenant-Colonel to Lord Townshend, without saying a word of it to his Ministers. It was not a command high enough to be offered to General Conway. He, with singular forbearance, had declined asking for his regiment again when he was appointed Secretary of State, lest he should be taxed with rapaciousness; and yet was determined to return to and adhere to the military line.

There was another man less delicate. Lord Albemarle had been directed by the King to act as executor to his master, the late Duke of Cumberland. Ambitious, greedy, and a dexterous courtier, Lord Albemarle flattered himself that the door was now opened to him, and sought and made pretences from his trust to obtain frequent audiences of the King. He procured a grant, I think, for three lives, of the lodge at Bagshot, dependent on Windsor, which he had held during the pleasure of the Duke, and under colour of resigning a pension he enjoyed on Ireland, he obtained to have it made over to a brother and sister of his in indigent circumstances, with whom he would otherwise have been burthened. But here ended that gleam of favour. Lord Bute grew jealous, and the door of the closet was shut for ever against Lord Albemarle.

Yet this and every other evidence could not open the eyes of Lord Rockingham. He weakly flattered himself that he was grown a personal favourite with the King, and had undermined Lord Bute. Nor were the complaints he was forced to make received in a manner to nourish his delusion. When it was first proposed to call in Mr. Pitt, the King was said to reply, “Go on as long as you can; but if there is to be a change, I will choose my next Ministers myself.” When the royal assent for treating with Pitt had been extorted, the latter had replied (as I have mentioned)251 in a manner not to inflame Lord Rockingham with eagerness to renew the proposal. Yet the Duke of Grafton was earnest for that junction; and disliking business, and probably not charmed to see all power arrogated by an associate, who was reduced to sit silent in the House of Lords, whilst he himself was almost the sole champion there of their joint-administration, daily threatened to resign unless Mr. Pitt was called to the head of affairs. Conway, under like circumstances, looked the same way, but with more temper. Some of the friends of the Administration, sensible of their tottering position, and wishing to burst the connection between Grenville and the Bedfords, the latter of whom were the only real supporters of the former, endeavoured to detach the Bedfords and unite them with the Ministers; but Rigby, devoted to Grenville, though not blind to his defects, which he often made the subject of his ridicule, detested Conway, and despised Lord Rockingham and the Cavendishes, and was too clear-sighted and too interested to attach himself to the desperate fortune of a set of men disliked by the King. Chance at the same time opened to the Duke of Bedford and his friends a prospect of an ally, able himself, and suited to their desire of reconciliation with Lord Bute. Lord Holland’s eldest son252 fell in love with Lady Mary Fitzpatrick,253 niece of the Duchess of Bedford, and educated by her. The marriage was proposed, and joyfully accepted by the Duke of Bedford, who lost not a moment to send overtures of peace to Lord Holland. But though the latter had consented to gratify the inclinations of his son, as he was a most indulgent father, he acted with the spirit of resentment that became him; and besides rejecting the Duke of Bedford’s offered visit, wrote him a most severe answer, and plainly told him how egregiously he was duped and governed by a set of worthless people. This letter Lord Holland showed to all that resorted to him, nor would at any time listen to various advances that were made to him by that family.

At this juncture I returned to England, April 22nd, and found everything in the utmost confusion. The Duke of Grafton, as I have said, determined to resign; Mr. Conway very ill, and sick of the fatigue of his office, which he executed with inconceivable and scrupulous attention; Lord Bute’s faction giving no support; and the Court discouraging all men from joining the Administration. A greater embarrassment had fallen on the Ministers: Mr. Pitt was grown impatient for power; and, after having discouraged Lord Rockingham from seeking his aid or protection, began to wonder that he was not courted to domineer; and he betrayed his ambition so far as to complain that the Administration had had his support, and now neglected him. Yet, on Grafton’s threats of quitting the Seals, Pitt intreated that nobody might quit for him: things were not ripe for him; it would let in Grenville and the Bedfords, the worst event of all, he said, for this country. Yet, if the Ministers made any direct advances to him, he was coy and wayward, and would treat only with his Majesty. Lord Mansfield and Mr. Yorke, who had great weight with Lord Rockingham, and were both jealous of Lord Camden; and the Duke of Richmond, now returned to England, and incited by Lord Holland to oppose Pitt; kept alive Lord Rockingham’s resentment, and prevented any direct negotiation. Thus circumstanced, Pitt’s temper broke forth. George Onslow had proposed, in order to save fifteen or twenty thousand pounds a year on the militia, to reduce one serjeant in each company, and the pay of the militia-clerks from fifty to twenty-five pounds a year. This reformation Lord Strange opposed; and the Ministry, not thinking it worth a division, gave it up. The opportunity, however, was seized by Pitt, to whom the plan had not been communicated. He went to the House, and made a vociferous declamation against the Ministry, who, he said, aimed at destroying the militia; he would go to the farthest corner of the island to overturn any Ministers that were enemies to the militia. This was all grimace: he did not care a jot about the militia.

In a few days after this, Rose Fuller moved to refer to the committee the petitions of the merchants on the severe clogs laid on the American trade. Grenville, as madly in earnest as Pitt was affectedly so, vehemently opposed that motion, and called it a sweeping resolution. They would next attack, he supposed, the sacred Act of Navigation. Burke bitterly, and Beckford and Dowdeswell, ridiculed him on the idea of any Act being sacred if it wanted correction. Lord Strange went farther; said, he would speak out; should be for a free port in America, and for altering that part of the Act of Navigation that prohibited the importation of cotton not the growth of our own islands.254 Charles Townshend said he was sorry to find that convenience was to give way to dignity. For his part he would call for a review of the Act of Navigation. This drew on warm altercation between him and Grenville, in which it was no wonder that Townshend’s wit and indifference baffled Grenville’s tediousness and passion.

The idea of a free port in America had been taken up by the Ministers, and that intention was now declared to the hearty satisfaction of the merchants. But this plan too, to humour Beckford’s local interests and his own spleen to the Ministers, was harshly and inconsiderately censured by Pitt, but with ill-success to his popularity, the scheme being grateful to the City. He was not more fortunate in his next step. The Ministers thinking themselves bound to give the last blow to General Warrants, which had now been decided in Westminster Hall to be illegal, moved a resolution of their being illegal and a breach of privilege. Grenville, hoping to squeeze out a little popularity from the same measure, moved to bring in a bill for taking them entirely away. This happening while Mr. Pitt was in his hostile mood, he seconded Grenville’s motion; but his lending himself thus to the champion of those warrants, highly offended the Ministerial Whigs, and drew on him much severity from Sir George Saville and Lord John Cavendish. Norton told Mr. Pitt privately that he had got from Carteret Webbe Mr. Pitt’s three warrants, and offered them to him; but Pitt refused to accept them, and said he had always declared he would justify his own warrants. At the same time he dropped to him that he wondered he (Mr. Pitt) had not understood Lord Bute’s speech on the Stamp Act. The Opposition, to purge Lord Temple from being the instigator of Wilkes in his attacks on the Scotch and the Tories, now produced a letter from the former to the latter, dissuading him from such national and general acrimony. This letter had been seized among Wilkes’s papers. But if it palliated the disposition to mischief in the one brother, it laid open the malice of the other; and Grenville was severely tasked for having connived at Webbe’s suppressing this letter in enmity to his brother. Mr. Pitt avowed to the House that he thought Carteret Webbe gently dealt with in not being expelled.

The night I arrived, the Duke of Richmond came to me to intreat Mr. Conway to go on without Mr. Pitt, who had offended both the Administration and the City: and he told me there were thoughts of softening towards Lord Bute, and of suffering his brother Mackenzie to have a place. The plan of diverting the enmity of Lord Bute was not at all repugnant to my opinion. From the moment the Administration had come into place, I had seen the necessity of it. Justice demanded the restitution of Mackenzie. The Ministers could neither destroy the King’s confidence in his Favourite, nor get rid of him by force. He was in no employment, nor had they any proofs in their hands that would authorize impeachment. Ungrounded impeachment would have purged him—perhaps have made him popular. Two options only remained: to quit their places, if they thought it for their honour not to temporize with Bute; or to temporize with him. Why I preferred the latter, these were the reasons: if those Ministers surrendered their power, where was there another set of honest men to replace them? They could mitigate, perhaps ward off, the evil designs of the Court, while the executive part of government remained in their hands. If they resigned it, it must fall into the hands of Mr. Pitt, who must either take his obnoxious brothers Temple and Grenville, or lean entirely on Lord Bute; and with all my admiration of Mr. Pitt, I doubted whether he would not make too complacent a Minister to prerogative; or Grenville and the Bedfords (the worst of all) must resume their power, and they had smarted too severely for their attacks on the Favourite, not to have profited of that experience. The Nation had once escaped from that coalition. Any system was preferable to the return of it.

I told the Duke of Richmond, that though I was glad to find Lord Rockingham and his friends were grown more reasonable, yet I thought the moment not suited to the experiment. There was another plan which ought first to be tried, and that was to endeavour once more, at any price, to acquire the accession of Mr. Pitt. Should he be omitted, it would throw him into the hands of his brothers and the Bedfords, or of Lord Bute—perhaps of all together. At least, should he refuse to join with the Administration, it would put him in the wrong, and damage his popularity, his sole strength. Lord Rockingham came to me still more eager for what the Duke had proposed. I adhered to my point, though I agreed they might try to go on, if Mr. Pitt should prove unreasonable, and Mr. Conway (who was ill in the country) should not think himself obliged to resign with the Duke of Grafton, who had brought him into Parliament. Grafton had promised Lord Camden (which indicated that he acted in concert with, or by direction of Pitt) to come to town in two days, and resign; yet his Grace himself had been offended at Mr. Pitt’s conduct, and had said, if he was haughty ought of place, what would he be when in? He should pity those who were to act under him.

April 25. Mr. Conway came to town, and agreed with me on the necessity of trying Mr. Pitt once more, though he did not think the King could be induced to see him. On the 27th the Duke of Grafton came to me, and Mr. Conway and I persuaded him to defer his resignation a few days; though he said he could not trust the King, who had promised that Lord Bute’s faction should support the Administration after the repeal of the Stamp Act was passed, which during the whole time of its discussion they had pretended they could not come into, as they had all concurred in the Act; yet when the repeal was over, their conduct continued the same. This consideration staggered Conway; and he told me, that if he should now resign for Mr. Pitt, the latter would certainly restore him, and entrust the House of Commons to him, as he had declared he would. This reflection showed Conway was more reconciled to power than he pretended to be,—and yet it was but transient ambition. It returned at times, but never was permanent; and even when he had quitted or declined supreme power, he did not give himself less to the fatigue of business, which yet was his standing objection. He could not enjoy so insignificant an office as the Board of Ordnance without making it slavery, and yet could not bear to be Secretary of State!

The Duke of Grafton, however, gave notice to the King that he would resign. The King begged him to defer it for a few days. Thus pressed, I prevailed with the Duke and Mr. Conway to go to Mr. Pitt, and intreat him to give some facility to his own accession. He complained that Lord George Sackville had been restored to employment to affront him personally: said he himself had been twice admitted to treat personally with his Majesty, and therefore hoped he might have that honour again. Several times he threw out Grenville’s name (to intimidate), and said he did not know what Lord Temple would do; he had had no intercourse with him for several months. To part of the Administration he professed great civility. Mr. Conway told him he was sure the King would not send for him. He answered, that he looked on that as a design not to let him come in. The fact was, the King, not desirous of the junction of Pitt and the actual Ministers, and choosing that Pitt should solely to him owe his admission, pleaded that he had sent so often for Mr. Pitt in vain, that he would condescend no more—a resolution his Majesty was at that very time in the intention not to keep.

On the 1st of May the Ministers had a meeting at the Chancellor’s, to determine what their plan should be on Grafton’s resignation and Pitt’s refusal; Mr. Conway having been induced to retain the Seals at the earnest request of the other Ministers, rather than break up their whole Administration. The King had ordered them to give him their proposals in writing, expecting, at least hoping, that they would at last propose connection with Lord Bute. They proposed that the King should promise to support them, and turn out those who should not act with them; this, however, they forbore to deliver to the King in writing. The Chancellor said, if they determined to go on, he would support them, but he did not think this a business proper for the Council. Conway replied, they were met as Ministers, and at the King’s desire. Some were for offering a place to Mackenzie; but Newcastle said their friends would dislike it; he had seen several who were against it. Lord Egmont told them fairly not to flatter themselves (and no doubt he spoke by authority); even a place for Mackenzie would not satisfy. Lord Bute’s friends were powerful, and would expect confidence. They broke up in disorder. Conway reported to the King what had passed. He replied coldly, “I thought you would not settle anything at one meeting.” Three days afterwards he bade them try for support, and inquire if Lord Bute’s friends would not support them, which was bidding them unite with the latter.

In the room of the Duke of Grafton I resolved to try to make the Duke of Richmond Secretary of State. Not that I could flatter myself with the duration of the system; but as I knew the Duke had better talents than most of the Ministers, and would be more moderate, I thought he would be likely to bring them to such a temper as might prevent their dissolution then, and would be of use to them if they remained in power. My friendship for him made me desirous, too, to obtain that rank for him, that, although he might enjoy it but a very short time, he might have pretensions to the same place, if ever they recovered their situation. He was apt to be indolent if not employed: the Secretary’s Seals might inspire him with more taste for business. I first mentioned the thought to himself, and found him pleased with it; and then engaged him to ask Mr. Conway’s interest, with whom I myself made it a point. Conway liked the motion, but said he was so nearly255 connected with the Duke of Richmond, that he did not care to ask it; always preferring his own character to the service of his friends. I acted, however, so warmly in it, and Lord Rockingham took it up with so much kindness to the Duke, that we surmounted Conway’s delicacy, and the Cabinet Council proposed it to the King. His Majesty, who had never forgiven the Duke of Richmond, objected strongly to that choice; said the Duke was too young (though as old as Grafton), and desired it might be first tried if Lord Hardwicke would not accept the Seals. Lord Hardwicke, a bookish man, conversant only with parsons, ignorant of the world, and void of all breeding, was as poor a choice as could have been made; and being sensible himself that he was so, declined the offer; yet to avoid taking Richmond, and to keep within the circle of Lord Rockingham’s friends, his Majesty next proposed to make the Attorney-General, Yorke, Secretary of State. If the elder brother was ill-qualified for that office, the younger was still more so, being ignorant of languages and of Europe, and read in nothing but the learning of his profession. Lord Rockingham, as civil as the King, yielded to make this trial too; but at the same time told the King that he and his friends, finding the precariousness of their situation, wished to resign their employments. The King begged they would not, said he should be greatly distressed, and had nobody to replace them. Yorke declining the Seals, they were at last bestowed on the Duke of Richmond, who in answer to the notification he received from Lord Rockingham, marked his being sensible how little he had been his Majesty’s choice. He entered, however, on his office with all the ardour and industry that I had expected, and had every qualification to make him shine in it. He had such unblemished integrity, and so high a sense of his duty and honour, that in the preceding winter Lord Powis256 having been exposed in the House of Lords for sordid meanness and injustice to Lady Mary Herbert,257 the sister of the last Marquis, from whose bounty Lord Powis had received his estate, and yet withheld from her a scanty annuity, the Duke of Richmond consulted the Chancellor to know if there was no precedent of expelling a Peer, so little was his Grace possessed by what is called l’esprit de corps.

But though the Seals were given to the Duke of Richmond, several other places of importance and rank remained vacant; nor could any man be found that would accept them, being discouraged by the discountenance with which the King treated his Ministers. Nor did it stop there; Lord Howe258 resigned his post, declaring he could not co-operate unless Mr. Pitt was Minister, an extraordinary strain of delicacy in a man who had accepted a commission at the Board of Admiralty from Mr. Grenville on the fall of Mr. Pitt, and his new post from the present Ministers on the fall of Mr. Grenville. Yet when the Ministers represented to the King the disgrace it brought upon his Government to have so many employments lie unfilled, and even offered to make Mr. Mackenzie Vice-treasurer of Ireland, his Majesty declined that place for him, but advised them to get all the strength they could. Lord Bute’s friends owned that it was expected the Ministers should employ their faction, in particular the Earl of Northumberland and Sir Fletcher Norton. The last none of them would hear of; and even I, who for the reasons I have given, wished them not to proscribe a party without whom they could not be Ministers, advised them to resign rather than stoop to adopt so bad a man, so lately, to their credit, cashiered by themselves. In truth, there was nothing but obstinacy in some, and irresolution in others. The nearer their fall, the more Lord Rockingham grew inclined to preserve his power by humouring the King; while Lord John Cavendish was inflexible to Bute, and Mr. Conway totally irresolute what part to take.

Not so the Court faction. Dyson opposed the tax on windows, and yet the Opposition was beaten by four to one. When the bill passed the Lords, the Duke of Grafton expressed great regard for some of the Ministers; but the nation, he said, called for the greatest abilities, and for all abilities; and though himself had borne a general’s staff, he would with pleasure take up a mattock and spade to be of what use he could. The Duke of Bedford forced Lord Rockingham to rise and say a few words.

It was now the 29th of May. From the instant of my arrival I had pressed the Ministers to put an end to the session, and had foretold that they would let it draggle on till it overturned them. All my views tended to prevent their resigning before the Parliament rose, and to keep them in place till the eve of the next session; that if no circumstances should arise in their favour during that interval, they might surprise and distress the King by a sudden resignation, or force him to give them better terms. Should they quit in the present conjuncture, whatever grievances they might allege would be forgotten before six months were elapsed. My prophecy, though founded, was as little regarded as my advice. Late as it was, a new parliamentary business, waited on by new scruples of Mr. Conway, broke forth.

On the death of the late Duke of Cumberland it had been projected to divide his 25,000l. a year between the King’s three brothers, and make up the revenue of each 20,000l. a year. The Ministers, during Mr. Conway’s illness in the country, had consented to carry this through, without acquainting him. When he came to town he vehemently objected to it, as the session was so near its period. The Cavendishes caught the scruple, and infused it into Lord Rockingham, though he had passed his word for it to the King. The Chancellor and Lord Egmont were as eager on the other hand to have the promise performed, and the former had warm words with Conway. The King was much discomposed, and said, unless his brothers would give it up he could not. The Duke of Gloucester, all decency and temper, behaved handsomely; but the Duke of York, instigated by the Bedfords, insisted on what had been promised to him. Lord Rockingham told the King he would keep his word, but would then resign—that was, would keep a promise he had neglected till it was almost too late, but then would resign for having kept it. Mr. Conway said he could not vote for it, but would absent himself from the House. Lord Rockingham repented the instant he had made his declaration, but did not know how to get off. Mr. Conway consulted me on this dilemma, and objected that Mr. Grenville was out of town, thinking the business of the session at an end. “What!” said I, “because you suffered Mr. Grenville to protract the session till he had wearied even himself, is that a reason for the Ministers not performing what they have engaged for? You have just had a signal victory [on the tax], and now will give up all for an idle qualm. For God’s sake satisfy the King and the Princes on this point; but you are so unfit to be Ministers, that I advise you to find some plausible and popular excuse afterwards to resign;” and to that indeed now did my utmost wishes tend. I saw they must fall, and desired only that the pretence might do them credit. At night, however, I hit off an expedient to which I got the concurrence of the Ministers. It was to propose to the King that they should move for a call of the House. That would take up at least a fortnight, and near as much time to go through the bill. He was to be told how unpopular the service was. If he still accepted the call, the question would either be carried in a full House, which would justify the Ministers; or would be lost in a full House, which, besides defeating the measure, would punish the Duke of York, without affording room of censure against the Ministers, as the Opposition would support the Duke; and the question, if lost, would be lost by the defection of the Court’s own majority, to whom the measure was very unpalatable, from the largeness of the designed appanages, and the independence of the Crown which the Princes would acquire. If, on the other hand, the King should refuse to accept the call, the Ministers would be in some degree disculpated from keeping their promise, or would have more grace in resigning. The Ministers went with this proposal to the King, but he had now prevailed on his brother of York to give up the point till the next session, on promise that the half-year’s income, which he would lose by the delay, should be made up to him.

On the 3rd of June Rigby moved that the Parliament should not be prorogued, but kept sitting by short adjournments to wait for news from America. This was easily overruled; and then a message from the Crown was delivered, asking a portion for the Princess Caroline against her marriage with the King of Denmark. Dyson, in opposition to the Ministers (and for a treacherous reason that will presently appear), offered a precedent against taking the message into consideration but in the committee or the next day—a strange disrespect, unless it had been concerted with the King. This occasioned a long debate, and Conway greatly distinguished himself by his spirit and abilities; and Dyson’s motion was rejected by 118 to 35. Next came a message for a settlement on the Princess. Augustus Hervey259 proposed to amend the address, and to promise to take it into immediate consideration. This, too, was outvoted; and Charles Townshend spoke finely on the occasion, with great encomiums on the Duke of Grafton and Conway.

The next day the Ministers pressed the King to turn out Dyson and Lord Eglinton, who had voted against the tax. His Majesty hesitated, but desired Lord Rockingham to talk to them. Lord Rockingham saw Dyson for an hour, who pretended to be in no opposition, but to dislike measures; and going through them showed he disliked every one of their measures. On this Lord Rockingham again proposed his being turned out, but the King took time to consider.260 Mr. Conway spoke to me on this. I said, it was plain Lord Bute meant to force them to join him, which made it impossible for them to join him; yet I begged they would not opiniatre those dismissions, as it would not be proper for them to resign on Court intrigues. To resign because men were not turned out would be still less proper in them, who had complained so much of dismissions, though the case was widely different between being persecuted for conscience sake, and dismissing men who would force them to unite with the very arbitrary Ministers they had condemned. They must wait till they were obstructed in some constitutional measure, and then retire.

Lord Hertford261 was now returned from Ireland, and prevailed on his brother to consent that Mackenzie should be restored to his ancient place, as soon as any settlement could be made to open it for him; and to let Lord Northumberland go ambassador to Paris, if Lord Rochford could be otherwise accommodated. The Duke of Richmond and Lord Rockingham came into this, and it was broken to the King in general terms. “Was there anybody he wished to prefer?” He was on his guard, and replied, “No;” that they might not accuse him of parting with them on their rejection of any of Lord Bute’s creatures. They then again mentioned Dyson and their own weakness; and showed him an intercepted letter of the Russian Minister to his Court, in which he wished his mistress not to conclude too hastily with the present Ministers, who could not maintain their ground: and he pointed out the damage the King brought on his own affairs by having a Ministry who did not enjoy his confidence. This the King denied, and said they had his confidence. For Dyson, he had opposed Princess Caroline’s portion, and his Majesty did not care to remove anybody on his own account (a salvo, as I have said, concerted). Dyson, they replied, opposed and obstructed all measures at the Board of Trade. Still the King would not give him up, but promised he would the next winter, if Dyson did not alter his conduct; but his Majesty had determined to remove the Ministers, not Dyson. Lord Eglinton was next accused of having opposed the tax. “Oh!” said the King, “that is abominable; but Eglinton is angry with me too: he says I have not done enough for him.” They civilly put his Majesty in mind that he had promised, in the middle of the winter, to dismiss opponents on their next default; but the plea was taken, and nothing could be obtained by the Ministers for their satisfaction.

The Chancellor, Lord Northington, disgusted with the dilatoriness and irresolution of the Ministers; and seeing they would neither embrace the Favourite, nor could do without him; and perceiving, too, that the King was determined to suffer them on no other terms than compliance, was alarmed for his own interest; and apprehending that if Mr. Pitt, as was probable he would, became the Minister, Lord Camden would expect the Seals, made a pretence of quarrelling with the Ministers, complaining most untruly that he was not consulted nor summoned on cases,262 which had not only been submitted to him, but had waited for him and suffered by his delay. All this, however, being but negative, the Chancellor wished to have more positive merit, and accordingly told the King (and possibly had his Majesty’s own orders for telling him so) that this Ministry could not go on, and that his Majesty must send for Mr. Pitt. Whether this meanness was officious, or whether instilled into him, was not certainly known. The motion was at least so acceptable that the Chancellor certainly opened a new negotiation with Mr. Pitt. Lord Bute’s friends asserted solemnly that this treaty, which was kept very secret, was known only to his Majesty, and concluded without the least privity of the Favourite—a tale too improbable to meet with the least credit.

As a signal of what was to ensue, on the 7th of July the Chancellor went in to the King, and declared he would resign; a notification he had not deigned to make to the Ministers, but which he took care they should know, by declaring openly what he had done. When the Ministers saw the King, he said coolly, “Then I must see what I can do.”263

The next day the Duke and Mr. Conway came to me in the country to ask my opinion on the present crisis. I said, I believed it was the signal of a change, but as it was yet uncertain whether the Chancellor had acted from self-interested fear, or by concert with the King, the wisest step for the Ministers would be to seize the opportunity, and on Wednesday, the next Court-day, (it being now Monday,) resign their places very civilly on want of the King’s confidence, and recommend to his Majesty to send for Mr. Pitt. This, if the King was not prepared with a Ministry, would greatly distress him; and whether Pitt, or Grenville, or the Bedfords were sent for, they would give harder terms to Lord Bute when at their mercy. That their recommending Pitt might prevent the King’s sending for him; and then nothing would be so odious and unpopular as the Bedford faction united with Bute, while Pitt and the present Ministers should be out of place. That if Pitt did become Minister, he would be hampered by their recommendation; it would hurt his popularity if he did not take them in, and must be an obstacle to his preferring the Bedfords. I added that this recommendation would be entirely consistent with Mr. Conway’s past declarations, which had always been in favour of Mr. Pitt, and would bind the Duke of Grafton more firmly to Conway. This advice was extremely tasted by Mr. Conway, not at all by the Duke, who had no partiality for Mr. Pitt.

The next day the Duke wrote to argue the point with me, and said, Lord Rockingham was still for making Yorke Chancellor, for insisting on the dismission of Dyson, Eglinton, Augustus Hervey, and others, and then for offering the King to make Mr. Mackenzie Vice-treasurer of Ireland. This last (which had already been in effect rejected) the Duke allowed was a very silly plan, but thought Mr. Pitt had treated the Ministers with too much contempt to make it honourable for them to propose him; the Duke even supposed that their not leaving the King in distress would oblige him. Mr. Conway, he said, was determined to follow my advice. I, who had no opinion of his Majesty’s sensibility or gratitude, stuck to what I had said; and warned the Duke to take care that they were not turned out in the cause of Yorke, instead of their own. I advised his Grace to make use of the good news from America, where all was quiet, and to declare that having pacified America, they could now resign without reproach; but the Seals had glimmered in Yorke’s eyes, and I knew he would advise any meanness rather than lose the moment of being Chancellor.

I went to town on Wednesday the 7th, in the afternoon, concluding that Rockingham and Newcastle would have prevailed on Mr. Conway to defer resigning for a day or two. So it had happened, though the Duke of Richmond had been convinced by me that they must resign. But in the morning, when the Ministers had gone in to the King, his Majesty, with the most frank indifference, and without even thanking them for their services, and for having undertaken the Administration at his own earnest solicitation, acquainted them severally that he had sent for Mr. Pitt; and lest this declaration should want a comment, to Newcastle he said, “I have not two faces.” Newcastle replied, “Does your Majesty know if Mr. Pitt will come?” “Yes,” said the King, “I have reason to think he is disposed to come;” and then added, “I wish you all well, particularly Lord Rockingham.” Nothing could be harsher to Newcastle, in whose presence this was uttered. To the Duke of Richmond the King was not tolerably civil; and, in truth, I believe the Seals which I had obtained for his Grace were a mighty ingredient towards the fall of that Administration. To Conway alone his Majesty was gracious, and told him he hoped never to have an Administration of which he should not be one. This looked as if the plan was settled, and that the King knew Mr. Pitt intended to retain Conway, for his Majesty loved him no better than the rest; and at Lord Rochford’s return from Spain had ridiculed Conway’s despatches, and said, he fancied Lord Rochford had had difficulty to know how to act, as they were sometimes warm, sometimes cold. This remark had been furnished by the Chancellor, when the offer made by the King of Spain of taking the King of Prussia for arbitrator on the money due for the ransom of the Manillas, had neither been accepted nor rejected. When the King told Conway he had sent for Pitt, he replied, “Sir, I am glad of it; I always thought it the best thing your Majesty could do. I wish it may answer: Mr. Pitt is a great man; but as nobody is without faults, he is not unexceptionable.”

Mr. Pitt proposes to Conway to remain in the Ministry.—Quarrel with Lord Temple.—Townshend Chancellor of the Exchequer.—Rockingham displaced to make way for Grafton.—Resignation of Lord John Cavendish.—Lord Rockingham affronts Pitt.—Unpopularity of the new Lord Chatham.—Changes and Preferments.—Foreign Policy.—Disturbed State of the Country.—Chatham’s Interview with Walpole.

On the 11th Mr. Pitt arrived; and on the 13th Mr. Conway came to me, and told me Mr. Pitt had been with him, had shown much frankness, and had offered him the Seals again, and the lead in the House of Commons, for he himself could not attend there. The King, Mr. Pitt said, had sent for Lord Temple; and he himself must offer him the Treasury, but protested it was without knowing whether he would accept it. Of Mr. Grenville it was delicate for him to speak; but if Mr. Conway would not conduct the House of Commons, Mr. Grenville must, though that would be subject to great difficulties. He intended something for Mr. Mackenzie when occasion should offer; thought Lord Bute had been too much proscribed, but would ever resist his having power. Changes he wished could be made without changes. The foundation of the present Ministry he hoped would remain; but he must take care of Lord Camden, Lord Shelburne, Lord Bristol, and Colonel Barré. Of Lord Rockingham he thought meanly, but was sorry to displace him. Sorry, too, for the Duke of Richmond; would he take an embassy? Mr. Conway said, No. Pitt replied, he did not desire an immediate answer; he knew Mr. Conway would have difficulties. Conway avowed he had the greatest, though two months before he should have laughed at any man that had supposed he could have any. He should now prefer returning to the military; but would consult his friends.

The same moment that told me Mr. Conway’s acceptance would be an exclusion of George Grenville, decided my opinion; and the Duke of Richmond coming in at that instant, we related what had passed, and I frankly told the Duke, that I could not hesitate on pressing Mr. Conway to accept, when I knew it would be shutting the door against George Grenville. The Duke heard my opinion with concern; and with great decency to Conway, rather started objections than urged him to decline. It would break the party; Mr. Pitt, as well as Lord Bute, had always aimed at dividing all parties. Could Mr. Conway quit the Cavendishes? I told his Grace, that if Mr. Pitt did not remain in the House of Commons, which he seemed disposed to quit, Mr. Conway would be the Minister. The latter I was sure would not go into opposition. His excluding Grenville would exclude Lord Temple. Lord Hertford arrived: and desiring for his own sake, that Mr. Conway should go on as much as I desired it, from enmity to Grenville, and Conway himself inclining to go on, he easily acceded to our opinion. But in honour of the Duke of Richmond, I must add, that he was so satisfied with my plain dealing, however vexed at the event, that he neither then, nor ever after,264 changed his countenance towards me or confidence; and was the only man I ever knew, whose friendship difference in party had no power to shake. As he was the sole person of that party for whom I had any friendship myself, I pressed Mr. Conway to ask for the Duke a promise of the Garter and of the Blue Guards; but that measure was defeated by the warmth of the heads of the party, provoked by the neglect Pitt showed them; though in truth, they were forward enough in inviting his resentment, by pressing all their friends to resign, even if Lord Temple should come in without Grenville.

On the 14th arrived Lord Temple, who, at Mr. Pitt’s earnest desire, had been sent for by the King. Mr. Pitt, who always acted like a Minister retired or retiring from power, rather than as an all-puissant, or new Minister, had begun to refine on his former conduct: and had already commenced that extraordinary scene of seclusion of himself, which he afterwards carried to an excess that passed, and no wonder, for a long access of phrenzy. It was given out that he had a fever, and he retired to Hampstead, whither Lord Temple went and saw him the day of his arrival. The next day Lord Temple had an audience of the King. On the 16th he was with Mr. Pitt till seven in the evening, dined, and took the air with him, when such high words passed, that the coachman overheard their warmth, and Mr. Pitt was so much agitated that his fever increased, and he would see nobody, not even the Duke of Grafton, whom he had sent for to town, but whom he had informed by message that he would take no step without acquainting his Grace.265

On the 17th Lord Temple again saw the King, made extravagant demands, which were peremptorily refused, and immediately went out of town.

The detail was, that Mr. Pitt had pressed the King to send for him; but said that was all he asked. When he and Lord Temple met, the latter insisted on bringing in his brother George; Mr. Pitt would not hear of it. Lord Temple then demanded that Lord Lyttelton should be President of the Council: nor that would Mr. Pitt grant: nor, in truth, did Lord Temple propose any conditions in earnest after the negative put upon his brother. Then, indeed, as provision for loading Mr. Pitt, Lord Temple asked him what he intended to do about Mr. Mackenzie and Lord Northumberland. He replied, Considerably. This was of a piece with what Lord Temple had lately done. In a pamphlet published by Almon, to abuse the Ministry, and called “The History of the late Minority,” it was declared that Lord Temple’s refusal of coming in with Mr. Pitt in the preceding year, had been grounded on the terms Mr. Pitt had been willing to grant to Lord Northumberland. As that refusal fully justified Mr. Pitt from not calling Lord Temple again, it was strange refinement or delicacy to invite a new quarrel by a new summons, especially as it was evident that he did not mean to grant any one facility that could tempt Lord Temple to accept.266

Fortunate it was, that Lord Temple did not overreach him by accepting. It was not less fortunate that he remained out of place, a check on Lord Bute, and a sure source of clamour against arbitrary measures, while discontented himself.267 Yet Lord Temple did not act without art. Though the King saw, from the first five minutes of their conversation, that he did not mean to accept the Treasury, yet he and his brother had persuaded the Bedfords that he intended it, and that he would bring them in; and extremely were they disappointed when they heard the negotiation was at an end; but it had answered the purpose of his laying them under obligation to his intentions, especially as he endeavoured to make them believe that he had broken with Mr. Pitt for refusing to make him268 Secretary of State; but the Bedfords, who could get over real obligations, were not men to be much enchained by fictitious intentions.269

Mr. Conway laboured to make some accommodation between Mr. Pitt and the fallen Ministers; and to engage the former to try at softening the ill-humour of the latter, who were great and respectable men, and whose assistance he would want. Pitt was cold and mysterious; said it would be impertinent in him to inform any of them that they were to be dismissed; it must come from his Majesty in the ordinary way of office. He should go to the King on the morrow; nothing was yet settled; he should begin with the great outlines. The Army and Law, he thought, should be left to the King. Lord Granby was very high; but if his Majesty preferred Lord Albemarle, he should not oppose it. Charles Yorke he should leave Attorney-General, unless the King disliked him.

The same day Mr. Pitt wrote to Charles Townshend in this haughty and laconic style:—“Sir, you are of too great a magnitude not to be in a responsible place: I intend to propose you to the King to-morrow for Chancellor of the Exchequer, and must desire to have your answer to-night by nine o’clock.” Unprecedented as this method was of imposing an office of such confidence in so ungracious a manner (for it was ordering Townshend to accept 2700l. a year in lieu of 7000l., and intimated that, accepting or refusing, he must quit the post of Paymaster), yet it was singularly well adapted to the man. It was telling him that no other man in England was so fit for that difficult employment; and it was telling him at the same time that though his great abilities rendered him an useful servant, the lightness of his character made those talents not formidable in an enemy.

Pitt had judged rightly. Townshend did not dare to fling both offices in his face: but, without being incensed or flattered, fell into the most ridiculous distress imaginable. All he felt was the menace, and the loss of the Paymaster’s place; and instead of concealing the affront or his own anxiety, he sat at home in his night-gown, received all that came, showed Pitt’s mandate to them, and commented on it, despatched messengers for his brother and the Duke of Grafton, who were out of town; and as the time lapsed, ran to the window on every coach that passed, to see if they were arrived. At last he determined on suing for leave to remain Paymaster, to which Pitt listened. Then with his usual fluctuation, Townshend repented of not accepting the Chancellorship of the Exchequer, so leading a situation in the House of Commons, and begged he might have it. Pitt replied, The place was full, being then inclined to retain Mr. Dowdeswell. Townshend renewed his supplication with tears; but for some time Pitt was firm. At length he yielded to the Duke of Grafton’s intercession; and that very day Townshend told the King that Mr. Pitt had again pressed and persuaded him to be Chancellor of the Exchequer—with such silly duplicity did he attain a rank which he might have carried from all competitors, had his mind borne any proportion to the vastness of his capacity. Pitt diverted himself with these inconsistencies, and suffered him to be his Chancellor.270

But now Pitt’s own mind, as unballasted by judgment as Townshend’s, though expressing itself in loftier irregularities, disclosed to Grafton and Conway his plan of Administration. He told them he meant to make the present Administration the groundwork of his own, and meditated few changes; that Lord Camden271 was to be Chancellor, and Lord Northington President: that he had asked the King what his Majesty desired for Mackenzie. The King had answered, Restoration, but without power in Scotland; to which he had consented. Something for Lord Northumberland—but he might wait. Lord Bristol was to be Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, when Lord Hertford should be weary of it. The Duke of Grafton was to be placed at the head of the Treasury, with Dowdeswell (on Townshend’s refusal) for Chancellor of the Exchequer: Lord Shelburne and Mr. Conway, Secretaries of State; Colonel Barré and James Grenville, Vice-Treasurers of Ireland; Lord George Sackville to be turned out. At last he acquainted them that himself was to be Privy Seal and a peer.

Two words are sufficient comments on so ill-conceived and ill-digested a plan. It was founded on a set of men whose chiefs he disgusted and displaced, without having obtained, without having even asked the consent or sounded the acquiescence of those who were to remain, and whose passions he had left to be worked upon by their several leaders: and, as if forgetting that the sole foundation of his own authority lay in his ascendant in the House of Commons, and in his popularity, he abandoned the one and risked the other; vainly presuming that he could dictate from the House of Peers, where he had no interest, and which required far different oratory from that in which his strength lay. Some argument, much decency, and great art are requisite to lull and lead Lords. The House of Commons, too, was so accustomed to see the Minister himself at their head, as not to be easily conducted by his substitutes. It was quitting the field to Grenville and every rising genius. Even his own Chancellor of the Exchequer, when not under his own lash, was almost sure to run riot. Two such capital errors in the outset, could not but embarrass his measures: they did; and yet smaller errors had greater consequences.

The outlines of the plan were no sooner public than they gave the highest offence to those whom it most imported Mr. Pitt to keep in humour. The King owned to Mr. Conway that he much disliked Lord Shelburne. The Ministerial Whigs, or party of the late Ministers, were enraged. Rockingham was indignant at being displaced for Grafton, and Richmond for Shelburne; and was the more hurt that Mr. Conway suffered this preference. He complained to me of Conway with much anger. I said, “I could not allow Mr. Conway to be blamed, in order to disculpate myself. I did profess I had advised him, as his Grace knew, to accept Mr. Pitt’s offers. He had accepted them before any mention had been made of Shelburne; and grievous as it was to him, could he break on it with Mr. Pitt, after being the cause that the latter had broken with both his brothers, Temple and Grenville? Mr. Conway had wished to resign with his friend the Duke of Grafton; yet had stayed in at the request of the whole party, as they could not go on without him. Could they blame him for staying in now, when the Duke of Grafton returned to Administration?” The Duke replied, “The Duke of Grafton had treated Mr. Conway ill; and that his obligations were to the House of Cavendish.” I said, “My Lord, was the 5000l. bequeathed to him by the late Duke of Devonshire to be a retaining fee to make him a servant to that family?” The Duke asked, why Mr. Pitt did not turn out any of Lord Bute’s friends? Why only friends of the late Ministers? I said, “Not one had been or would be turned out for Lord Bute’s friends: that no man of half the importance of Mr. Pitt had ever brought so few dependents; he had proposed but four of any consequence, the Duke of Grafton, Lord Camden, Lord Shelburne, and Lord Bristol; and even the last he waived for a time. That himself declared he acceded to the present Administration, not they to him; and that he brought not a single man along with him, that had not voted with them all the last winter. That Mr. Conway was influenced by measures, not by men; yet these were both Whig men and Whig measures. Oppose the first arbitrary measure, my Lord, you and your friends, and you will be in the right; but hitherto of what can you complain? Three weeks ago you declared you could not meet the opening of the next Session. The Administration has now got the most creditable accession and strength, and will not accept it:” at last I said, “Desire Mr. Conway, my Lord, not to accept, and I will answer he will not.” “No,” said the Duke, with his usual goodness of heart, “I will not do that.” “Then,” said I, “my Lord, your Grace and your friends will reduce Mr. Conway to this; he will be disgusted with your ill-treatment, he will ask for his regiment again, and retire, and never enter the House of Commons more; and then what becomes of your party?” The Duke was infinitely struck with this; and though for a few days he could not conceal his dissatisfaction from Conway on the latter’s yielding to let him be removed for Shelburne, his friendly heart surmounted his chagrin, and he wrote a letter to Conway acknowledging that he had been in the wrong, and renewing their amity.

In truth, I suffered as much as the Duke in being forced to argue against him, when my heart was on his side. But nothing could have justified Conway in flying off after Pitt had sacrificed Grenville to him, and all other views of support. Every public consideration concurred to excite my endeavours, that Pitt and the late Administration should not separate. They were honest, and he inflamed with the love of national glory. All they wanted was activity and authority; he was proper to confer both. If he lost them, he must hang on Bute, or revert to his brothers and the Bedfords. He and the late Ministers were popular; all other sets were odious from past experience of their actions.

In vain did I labour to preserve so salutary an union. My evil genius, Lord John Cavendish, came across me; and though I had the private satisfaction of letting him see whose influence with Mr. Conway was the greater; it did not compensate for the mischief he did by inflaming the party against Pitt. To engage by his example to set Pitt at defiance, Lord John resigned his seat at the Treasury; and lest he should be too much in the right by resenting the ill-treatment of his friends, he sent his resignation to the Duke of Grafton in a letter, in which he told the Duke that he supposed his Grace did not desire to see a Cavendish at that board. Nothing could be more unfounded or unjust than this insinuation. Grafton had ever lived in the utmost harmony with that family, and Lord John was his particular friend. There was no intention of removing one of their relations; and the Duke had, above all, reckoned on Lord John for his associate in the Treasury. Yet the latter affected to beg nobody to resign—after firing the signal. He carried this dissimulation so far as to beg me, who felt the blow he had let fall on Conway, to do my utmost that Lord Dartmouth and Mr. Dowdeswell might be pacified, or they would both resign: and he concluded his exhortation with great professions to the Duke of Grafton, who, he said, had always distinguished him from the time he was at school. I said, “I was sorry, but did not see what I could do: that they would drive Mr. Pitt to Lord Bute, or to his brothers and the Bedfords.” “No,” he replied, “it might drive Mr. Pitt himself away, which would make confusion, and confusion did no harm in times of peace.” “That confusion,” said I, “would unite Lord Bute and the Bedfords.” “Oh!” said he, “then we should have impeachments.”

Slight as our hopes were now of working any good on the party, Mr. Conway was urgent with Pitt to show them some civilities, and represented how much they were exasperated by his obstinate silence and coldness. Pitt said, he heard so, but could not believe it: all would come right again. Conway implored him to speak to them, or to empower him to soothe them. He was inflexible: said, the King did all. When done, he would go to Lord Rockingham; but would promise no further. Conway spoke of the Duke of Portland,272 who, as nearly related to the Cavendishes, must be disposed to quit, and therefore required the more attention; and, as the last argument, stated the cruelty of his own situation. Nothing could move him. He replied coldly, If Portland should resign, he would be replaced by a man taken from no exceptionable quarter. This looked like no unwillingness to disgust; and though this absurdity of trampling on the greatest subjects, and even on those men on whose support he must lean, or leave himself at the mercy of the Court, was not abhorrent from Pitt’s character notwithstanding the inconveniencies it had often drawn on him; yet I have suspected that at the time in question, he might have studied or received intimations of the King’s inclination to get rid of some particular men. The Cavendishes had long been particularly obnoxious, had personally affronted the Princess on the Bill of Regency, and had been the chief obstructors of any approach to Lord Bute. The Duke of Portland, though his mother273 was the intimate friend of Lady Bute, had wantonly piqued himself on enmity to the Favourite; and by local and county274 circumstances was the declared rival in the North of Sir James Lowther,275 the Favourite’s son-in-law. To these motives was added in Pitt a desire of making room for Lord Bristol; and an incidental offer to himself of support from another quarter contributed to augment his indifference to the consequences of the party’s anger.

It happened that the Bedford squadron did not give credit to the fair report Lord Temple had made of his zeal for their service. Their hopes had been raised, and seeing a door open, they were not willing to be excluded by an equivocal obligation. Lord Tavistock276 acquainted the Duke of Grafton, that his father disclaimed the Grenvilles, and would be ready to assist his Grace on no other conditions than places for Lord Gower, Rigby, and Vernon,277 the Duchess’s brother-in-law. This was making so capital a breach in that connection on such moderate terms, that averse as I was to the Bedfords, I wished to see it closed with before they should be apprized of the ill-blood between Pitt and the late Ministers. But if the offer swelled Pitt’s haughtiness, it did not operate much on the prudence of his measures. He at once slighted the overture, and continued his obstinacy of making no overtures to the discontented. It seemed a contest between them which should be most in the wrong. Lord Rockingham and his friends professed that they would yet be contented with civilities. Lord Frederick and Lord John Cavendish both sounded this high; and the latter, at my house, pressed Mr. Conway so much to obtain some notice of them from Mr. Pitt, that he went that very evening to the latter, and did at last prevail with him to visit Lord Rockingham. Mr. Pitt went the next morning, and was admitted into the house, but was met by a servant, who said, his Lord desired to be excused from seeing him. Thus had they forced Mr. Conway to draw in Mr. Pitt to receive an affront; and from that day the wound was incurable.

On the 30th of the month Mr. Pitt kissed hands for the Privy Seal, and the Earldom of Chatham; Grafton, Camden, Northington, and Charles Townshend for the places I have mentioned. Lord Howe was restored to his post of Treasurer of the Navy; Barré and James Grenville were made Vice-Treasurers of Ireland; and Lord George Sackville was dismissed.

The same day Lord Dartmouth resigned the Board of Trade, and Charles Yorke his post of Attorney-General. Dowdeswell was asked what he should like: he replied, the King had placed him above what he had pretensions to, but having been there he could take nothing lower. Though in straitened circumstances and burthened with a numerous offspring, he adhered to his party, and refused to be First Lord of Trade, or Half-Paymaster. His character was exceedingly fair; but among many examples of that time, he had been raised above his abilities, and was more respected for his fall than for his exaltation.278

A pension of 4000l. a year was offered to, and rejected by, the Duke of Newcastle, who with all his faults and weaknesses was never stained with avarice and rapaciousness. The deepest tinge of that dirty vice blotted the late Chancellor Northington, who sold the Seals for the President’s place, augmented by 5000l. a year, with the contingency of 2000l. a year if he should quit the place of President, and for the reversion of the Hanaper for two lives.279 Grants so exorbitant, and so void of any colour of merit in the fool on whom they were showered, that if they cast a shade on the dawn of Mr. Pitt’s new Administration, or recalled the memory of his former waste, they reflected lustre on the fallen Ministry, who had been beyond example sparing of such shameless profusion. It was not lessened by another contingent pension to Lord Camden in case he should lose the Seals: yet as he quitted the place of Chief Justice of the Common Pleas for life, the boon was far more justifiable; especially in an age when men were paid alike for merit and demerit, for accepting or losing employments.

The services of the discarded Ministers were set forth in a small, well written tract, called “A Short History of a late Short Administration.” It did justice to their integrity, and it could not do too much.280 The nation felt and allowed their merit. Some counties and corporations complimented them in addresses. The Parliament followed the Court, and supported whoever was the actual Minister; uniform in its way of voting, though its votes of every year were inconsistent with those of the preceding.

The glory with which the late Ministers retired was half of it plucked from the laurels of the new Earl of Chatham. That fatal title blasted all the affection which his country had borne to him, and which he had deserved so well. Had he been as sordid as Lord Northington, he could not have sunk lower in the public esteem. The people, though he had done no act to occasion reproach, thought he had sold them for a title, and, as words fascinate or enrage them, their idol Mr. Pitt was forgotten in their detestation of the Lord Chatham. He was paralleled with Lord Bath, and became the object at which were shot all the arrows of calumny. He had borne his head above the obloquy that attended his former pension—not a mouth was opened now in defence of his title; as innocent as his pension, since neither betrayed him into any deed of servility to prerogative and despotism. Both were injudicious; the last irrecoverably so. The blow was more ruinous to his country than to himself. While he held the love of the people, nothing was so formidable in Europe as his name. The talons of the lion were drawn, when he was no longer awful in his own forests.

The City of London had intended to celebrate Mr. Pitt’s return to employment, and lamps for an illumination had been placed round the Monument. But no sooner did they hear of his new dignity, than the festival was counter-ordered. The great engine of this dissatisfaction was Lord Temple, who was so shameless as to publish the history of their breach, in which he betrayed every private passage that Mr. Pitt had dropped in their negotiation and quarrel, which could tend to inflame the public or private persons against him.281 This malignant man worked in the mines of successive factions for near thirty years together. To relate them is writing his life.

The next month was spent in changes and preferments, which I shall recapitulate as briefly as I can. Sir Charles Saunders, instigated by Lord Albemarle, resigned his seat at the Admiralty, on pretence of disliking Lord Egmont, the first Commissioner. Lord Albemarle had been refused the Rangership of the Parks at Windsor. John Yorke282 retired from the same board. Within a few days Lord Egmont himself resigned, telling the King he disapproved of Lord Chatham’s foreign system, and should be afraid of embarrassing his Majesty’s affairs. If they were to be debated in Council, he could submit to the majority; but as he found one man was to have more weight than six,283 he begged to be unemployed.

Lord Chatham was hurt at losing Saunders, one of his favourite and most successful admirals in the last war. Keppel,284 too, intimated a like design of retiring. To prevent the one and recover the other, Lord Chatham, though sorely unwilling to raise Sir Charles Saunders above Sir Edward Hawke and Sir George Pocock, at last put the Admiralty into the hands of Saunders. Lord Granby was appointed Commander-in-chief, and Lord Ligonier quieted with an earldom—at near ninety, and with a reversion to his nephew of fifteen hundred pounds a year of his pension. Even the promotion of Lord Granby was a portion of another bargain, the price of his father, the Duke of Rutland’s, quitting Master of the Horse, which was given to Lord Hertford, that he might cede the government of Ireland to Lord Bristol. Nor was the post of Master of the Horse sufficient: the King promised Lord Hertford should have the Chamberlain’s staff on the next vacancy, which his Majesty added, he wished was then—a confirmation of his dislike of the Duke of Portland. Lord Hertford was too good a courtier not to acquiesce, or to be satisfied. He prevailed to have the borough of Orford, then dependant on the Crown, where Lord Hertford had an estate, ceded to him,—a boon unprecedented, and that made much noise. The ill-conduct of the Court had reduced the Crown to little more than to be able to make changes; for it could scarce make an Administration, though both Houses were ready to support any that was made.

I ought to have mentioned, that, in consequence of the Duke of Bedford’s offers, the Admiralty, on Lord Egmont’s demission, was offered to Lord Gower; Lord Chatham still deluding himself with the thought that he could detach any separate man from any connection. But if men were grown more venal, they were grown, too, to understand their own interests better than to loosen their strength by separating themselves from powerful bodies; a single and temporary emolument could not compensate for the support of their friends. Lord Gower answered that he could not stand alone in so responsible a place, and was connected with none of the present Ministry.

Lord Frederick Campbell was removed, and Mr. Mackenzie restored to his ancient place.

However alert and peremptory Lord Chatham was in offending or promoting, domestic power by no means occupied his thoughts. The stocks had fallen on his accession, from the apprehension entertained that he would hurry into war. Had his views succeeded, one cannot tell how soon it might have been his measure. I know certainly that he despatched emissaries to visit the frontier towns in France. His immediate and avowed purpose was to cement an union between England, Russia, and Prussia.

Baron de la Perriere,285 the Sardinian Envoy, had given notice that the new Emperor286 was much disinclined to the French system, and even disposed to break with that Court, beholding with an eye of discontent their possession of his hereditary dominion, Lorrain. It was expected that Count Kaunitz, his mother’s Prime Minister, devoted to France, would retire.287 I had sent notice of this favourable opening, and had repeated it at my return from Paris. A short time before the change in the Ministry, an event corroborated this intelligence. Count Seilern, the Austrian Ambassador, had opened himself freely to Mr. Conway, and said, if the latter would assure him that we neither had leagued, nor would league with Prussia, his court would enter into a defensive league with us against France. Mr. Conway replied we could not advance so far at once, but assured him we were not, nor were likely to be, in league with Prussia. Seilern was to report this answer, and no reply was arrived when Mr. Pitt became Minister. The King had been so indiscreet as to tell Count Seilern in the drawing-room that Count Malzahn, the new envoy from Berlin, had had his audience, and was the first foreign Minister that ever came to him without saying anything personally civil.

Mr. Pitt, full of a grand northern alliance, without attending to the conjuncture, or above informing himself of the situation, immediately names Mr. Stanley288 Ambassador to Russia instead of Sir George Maccartney,289 a personal favourite of the Czarina, and who had just concluded a treaty of commerce with her; and orders Stanley, in his way to St. Petersburg, to learn if the King of Prussia was disposed to enter into strict alliance with us. The King had acquiesced in this new arrangement, for he submitted even to treat with the King of Prussia, whom he hated, rather than not accommodate Lord Bute with a more favourable Administration. Conway was thunderstruck. He saw we should miss the opportunity of recovering the Court of Vienna, and expected nothing from Prussia. To add to the mortification, the nomination was made in his own office, and he not acquainted with it till it was done; nor had he been summoned to the Council in which it was declared. So little confidence to the confidential Minister looked ill, and prognosticated how entirely the new Earl intended to engross the sole direction. Conway wrote to Lord Chatham to beg Mr. Stanley’s journey might not be precipitated, but debated in Council: if the King’s servants should approve it, he should acquiesce. The Earl returned a very civil answer, and promised they should consult on it. The event was, the King of Prussia refused to receive Stanley’s visit, and the Czarina did not like to admit an Ambassador. After a long delay, Stanley’s embassy was laid aside290—the union with Austria was lost. These foreign disappointments, I believe, were the chief ingredients in the strange conduct of Lord Chatham that ensued. Peace was not his element; nor did his talent lie in those details that restore a nation by slow and wholesome progress. Of the finances he was utterly ignorant. If struck with some great idea, he neither knew how nor had patience to conduct it. He expected implicit assent—and he expected more, that other men should methodise and superintend, and bear the fatigue of carrying his measures into execution; and, what was worse, encounter the odium and danger of them, while he reposed and was to enjoy the honour, if successful. The history of the ensuing winter will justify every word here asserted. His conduct in the late war had been the same. He drew the plans, but left it to the Treasury to find the means; nor would listen to their difficulties, nor hold any rein over their ill-management.

While the attention of the great world was fixed on the political revolution, the people laboured under the dearness of corn and the apprehension of famine. The two last seasons had been particularly unfavourable; and though there was not absolute want, the farmers kept back their corn, and would not bring it to market, in order to enhance the price. Great disturbances ensued in several counties: the mob rose, seized provisions by force, or obliged the venders to distribute them at the price fixed by the people. In some places they burnt the barns of those who concealed their corn, and committed other violences. The worst tumults were at Norwich and in the western counties, where the peace could only be preserved by quartering regiments in the most riotous districts. In this emergency, the Council advised the King, as Parliament was not sitting, to lay an embargo, by his own authority, on the exportation of corn; an extension of prerogative not used for a large number of years but in a war, or on the imminent approach of one. The Duke of Newcastle attended the Council, and, to his honour, spoke heartily for a measure which checked the evil. Who would believe that so essential a remedy was converted into matter of blame? That it was, reflected honour on the Administration. Such crimes can only be found in a dearth of accusation.

The Earl of Northumberland, offended at the promotions of Lord Bristol and Lord Hertford, and that even the Chamberlain’s staff was engaged to the latter, broke out in complaints to Lord Chatham, who, with a facility that seemed to imply a secret understanding, consented that he should be created a Duke. The King did not hesitate a moment; the same day heard the grievance and the indemnification. Lord Cardigan,291 on an old promise, obtained by Lord Bute, that he should be a Duke whenever one was made, was raised to the same rank; but Lord Chatham coupling it with a condition to both, that the one should take no employment, and the other resign the government of Windsor Castle, Lord Cardigan refused the increase of title, and would not part with his office, saying, he thought titles were honours and rewards, not punishments. Lord Northumberland acquiesced, and obtained the precedence. The other being firm, carried his point, kept his place, and got the dukedom. Had Lord Chatham intended to bar solicitation for titles by so unpleasant a restriction, he had acted wisely; but, relinquishing it in Lord Cardigan’s case, it is probable that his sole view was to disculpate himself from the imputation of too open propensity to the Favourite’s family. He offered an earldom to Lord Monson in lieu of his place, which the Earl designed for Mr. Popham; but Lord Monson would neither accept the title nor resign the office. Lord Grantham292 was removed from the Post-office in favour of Mr. Prowse, who would not accept it, but the former was partly indemnified by his son Robinson being made a Lord of Trade.

In October Lord Chatham went to Bath, where I happened to be. He came to me, and we had a conversation of two hours. Nothing could be more frank and unreserved than his behaviour. He asked me earnestly if I did not think that France intended to keep peace with us? I replied, I was sure in the present distress of their circumstances they must keep it: and that I was as sure from the terror I had seen they felt at his name, that they would be still more disposed to keep it now he was Minister. He lamented that we could get no allies; that he saw no day-light. The session he thought he should carry through easily. To flatter me he commended Mr. Conway highly, particularly for his Whiggism—“and am not I,” said he, “Lord Camden, and Lord Shelburne, Whigs?” Yet he wished to take some of all parties. The Duke of Bedford, indeed, had made himself nobody. Lord Gower was considerable, and ought to be high. If the Duke and Duchess desired it, Rigby might be taken care of; but when Cabinet places were so scarce, they wanted one for Lord Weymouth—a very pretty man, Lord Weymouth!—but that could not be. He had been offered the embassy to Spain, but would not accept it; nor Postmaster, though it had been held by Lord Grantham, who had been Secretary of State. The King, he said, was very gracious to him, and he believed in earnest—and then dropped these remarkable words: “If I was in possession of the citadel of Lisle, and was told there was a mine under my feet, I would say, I do not believe it.” His opinion of his Majesty’s sincerity was therefore exactly the same as mine. I took great pains to cultivate harmony between him and Mr. Conway, because I feared it was little likely to last.

The negotiation with the Duke of Bedford had been renewed at Bath by Lord Northington and Mr. Nugent. The Duke himself came thither and they had an interview, in which Lord Chatham desired artfully to open himself to his Grace, and declared against Continental measures, subsidies, &c. (the very objects in which he had been disappointed, but against which the Duke’s humour then lay.) They could not agree on Lord Weymouth, which made the Duke profess his unwillingness to abandon his friends, though ready to abandon them if that point had been accorded. However Lord Chatham had made so much impression that, on the Duke’s return to London, and being instantly beset by Grenville, the Duke said he was unpopular enough already, and would not be torn to pieces for condemning the embargo on corn. He would vote for the Address, and insisted that Rigby should. The latter begged to go out of town, and said to his friends that Lord Chatham had duped the Duke of Bedford, and the King Lord Gower, who had been particularly distinguished at Court; that they were undone if they voted with Administration before their bargain was made.

Lord Temple and Lord Lyttelton went to the Lord Mayor’s feast, but were totally neglected by the citizens.

Debates on the Embargo laid on Corn.—Party Tactics.—Walpole exerts himself to prevent Conway from resigning.—View of Lord Chatham’s Conduct.

On the 11th of November the Parliament met. Lord Suffolk opposed the Address of the Lords, and the debate turned on the illegality of the late Act of Council that had directed the embargo; the Opposition censuring the Ministers for not having called the Parliament to that end. To urge that the necessity had been pressing, that the delay necessarily attendant on issuing writs, on assembling the members, on passing the Bill, would have wasted the time, while the merchants who had contracted to send corn abroad would have taken advantage of such protraction and sent away their corn—and thus the evil would not have been prevented by paying too scrupulous regard to forms—these reasons did not satisfy men who would have found greater fault if the evil had not been prevented. The Duke of Bedford was more moderate, but wished the Parliament had been assembled. Lord Chatham, for the first time of his appearing in that House, spoke with coolness, dignity, and art, declaring that if any man was personal to him, or revived stories past, he should take no notice of them. This seemed to check Lord Temple’s heat, who, though severe in arraigning, forbore invectives against Lord Chatham; but proposed (as Mr. Grenville did in the other House) to issue 200,000l. from the Treasury for the relief of the poor—a vain attempt at popularity, and deservedly ridiculed. Lord Northington, with great boldness and defiance, said, he disclaimed accepting any pardon for the part he had acted in advising the embargo, and held law-books cheap when weighed against such a crisis. For himself he had acted on a larger scale. He concluded with haranguing against disunion. Lord Temple reminded him that two years before, he had declared unanimity was destructive. Lord Mansfield, from aversion to Lord Chatham and his Chancellor Camden, was now the advocate of the Constitution. The Act of Council he maintained was illegal, though he said he would give no opinion as the case might come before him in judgment, many suits being commenced, he heard, against officers of the customs for detaining corn from exportation on the authority of the Council’s order. Prerogative! there was no such thing: the King could do nothing but by law; was only free from arrest for debt,—truths that were scandalous in the mouth of a man whose soul was sold to Despotism. Lord Camden answered with firmness, and with sharp irony, on the new Whiggism of the Chief Justice. Himself, he said, had always been Whig, and should continue so. If it was not yet in our laws, it ought to be so, that Salus populi suprema lex. If this Act was a stretch of prerogative, it was but a tyranny of forty days. This sentence drew much censure—ridiculously so. In every Government there is—must be—a supreme power to exert itself when evils are too mighty for the common channel of law to divert. That power must have relieved the people, or they would have relieved themselves, for men will not starve, if you tell them there is no law that can help them. The very phrase, too, of forty days implied that liberty preceded and succeeded to that transient tyranny. It is when unlimited that tyranny is dreadful. The sentence, however, proved the text on which the following libels were preached for some months. Lord Mansfield was daunted, and retracted, and the House rose without a division.293

In the other House Mr. Grenville held forth on the illegality, and abused Mr. Conway, not for intention, but for ignorance and blunders. Burke spoke finely on the same side; but they could not attempt a division, the Duke of Bedford’s people having absented themselves. The Tories, however, exclaimed against Lord Camden’s dispensing power; a clamour that manifested their own principles. The Whigs dread the prerogative being used against the people; the Tories, it should seem, for the people.

The schism raised in the Opposition by the Duke of Bedford’s defection, and the general inclination attached to the late Ministers to close with Lord Chatham, had discouraged almost all thoughts of opposition. Grenville and his dozen of followers in vain attempted to rekindle it, and though Lord Rockingham wished to figure as leader of a party even out of place, and Burke, an adventurer, was to push his way by distinguishing himself as a formidable antagonist; yet the decency of that set of men was such, even of Lord John Cavendish, that they did not care to fly out. They retained much deference for Mr. Conway; and too many of their friends remained still in place, whom they might displease and lose, and without whom their numbers would be inconsiderable. They had acted, too, with such recent animosity to George Grenville, that it was a bitter resource to join his standard: nor were he and Lord Rockingham compatible, the Treasury being the object which neither would cede to the other. So forlorn a prospect deadened all factious spirit: Lord Temple went out of town. The Dukes of Bedford and Richmond were to go on the 19th; and though some scanty forces might rally after Christmas, all who waited to judge from the size of the majority whether duration might be expected to the present Ministry, would probably by that time have enlisted themselves in the troops of the Court. This moment, fortunate beyond all calculation, did Lord Chatham pitch upon to do the wildest of acts for the silliest of reasons. Without waiting to let so prosperous a conjuncture ripen into a system, he seemed to take a fortuitous concurrence of circumstances for established power; and though the predominant influence of the Court preserved him from falling, he involved himself in such a labyrinth of difficulties, that he found no other way of extricating himself than by a conduct more preposterous than the series of imprudence which had drawn him into his perplexed situation. I must now relate what he lost and for whom.

There was a nephew of the Duke of Newcastle who, when the Whigs had broken with the Court and sought to place Lord Chatham at their head, had attached himself particularly to that chieftain. Lord Lincoln,294 the other nephew of the Duke, had quarrelled, as I have said, indecently and ungratefully with his uncle. Mr. Shelley,295 the hero of the present episode, had copied that ingratitude, and for no worthier reason than because a peerage, to which he had no pretensions, had not been added to the boons his lavish uncle had already heaped on him, had joined himself to his cousin. But Mr. Pitt was his standard; and, furnishing himself with scraps of that orator’s new-coined diction, he retailed them on the most ordinary occurrences; so that as Mr. Pitt was called the Great Commoner, the nickname of the Little Commoner was bestowed on Shelley in ridicule.296 This insignificant person did Lord Chatham, to gratify Lord Lincoln, design for Treasurer of the Household. Mr. Conway had remonstrated against the dismission of Lord Edgcumbe,297 who held that staff, insisting that an equivalent, at least, should be given to Lord Edgcumbe, and with his consent. This had passed about a month before the meeting of the Parliament, and Lord Chatham said no more at that time. But six days after the opening of the session, Lord Shelburne, being with Mr. Conway, said, “I wish you would tell me how to write a civil letter to Lord Edgcumbe.” Conway started, and asked on what occasion? “To notify his dismission,” replied the other. Lord Chatham, it seems, had offered a Lordship of the Bedchamber to Lord Edgcumbe, a man of forty-five, very high in the Navy, who had served with reputation in Lord Chatham’s favourite war, and who, into a place only fit for a boy, must have entered below thirteen other boys! Lord Edgcumbe very properly declining such a post, Lord Chatham affected to resent it as an affront to the King, and wrote a verbose notification of the refusal to Mr. Conway, with frequent repetitions of his Majesty’s name and intentions. Conway, wounded at the treatment both of himself and Lord Edgcumbe, wrote a firm answer, justifying the latter.298 Lord Rockingham, getting wind of this transaction, hurried to Mr. Conway, artfully reminding him that the late Duke of Devonshire, at his death, had recommended Lord Edgcumbe to the Duke of Cumberland; and that Lord Edgcumbe himself had lately, at Mr. Conway’s request, chosen his nephew, Lord Beauchamp,299 into Parliament.300 But Lord Chatham’s own conduct exasperated Conway more than any incendiary could. He wrote again to Conway, imputing all to the King’s intentions and to the necessity of accommodation. He could not have assigned a weaker reason. Shelley would not even have a seat in Parliament, for the Duke of Newcastle refused to re-elect him. Lord Edgcumbe commanded four boroughs, and it was within a year of the general election. Instead of replying by letter, Conway went and expostulated with Lord Chatham on the ill-usage of his friend, and of the silence to himself, desiring to retire; did not mean to oppose, but thought that the Government could do without him now Charles Townshend was in their service. Lord Chatham talked of his desire of pleasing all parties by taking some of all: some Bedfords—Burke, to please Lord Rockingham—(but Burke had said he would take nothing but on proviso of resigning, if Lord Rockingham went into opposition—though, as the Duke of Grafton told me, Burke would not have been obdurate if his demands had not been too extravagant)—Norton—Conway remonstrated—Lord Chatham rejoined, “only in case of a vacancy, perhaps Master of the Rolls, if the present should die.”

While this matter was in suspense, Mr. Conway moved the House of Commons for leave to bring in a bill in favour of all who had acted under the Order of Council for restraining exportation of grain. Grenville said the motion was not adequate to the case: the indemnity ought to extend to the Privy Council, as had been customary in the reign of Charles II. and at the Revolution. Yet he would not then propose the amendment; would wait to see the bill. If he should not find the extension there, that great question would and should be discussed. Burke, more moderate, said, it would be sufficient if the preamble specified all those who had counselled or advised. Beckford, to disculpate the Chancellor, said, in times of danger the Crown might dispense with law. Grenville started up, and demanded that the clerk should take down those words. Beckford said, he was glad to see that gentleman so zealous for liberty at present, but that he had interrupted him before he had finished his sentence; that he was going to add, by the advice of his Council, for the salus populi. Grenville demanded that those words should be taken down too. Several interposed, and desired that Beckford might have leave to explain himself. Grenville said, he aimed at the doctrine, not the person. Beckford pleaded ignorance, and that he was not one of the docti. Nugent replied, that the House had often been witness to his ignorance. “But, sir,” said he, “I exaggerate his ignorance to excuse him.” Hussey, a very honest man, and who had refused any preferment, though an intimate friend of the Chancellor, stated an explanation of Beckford’s meaning, which, indeed, was totally the reverse, and a full definition of liberty against a dispensing power, which the House accepted. I went home with Mr. Conway, and though I entirely approved what the Council had done, yet as precedents of power cannot be too strongly guarded against, I begged him, as Hussey had advised, to obtain a firm declaration against a dispensing power in the preamble to the bill. He was zealously of that opinion, and said he would. I told him, if Lord Chatham objected, that would be a much more laudable and wise subject for breaking with him, than on the private case of Lord Edgcumbe, which the world would consider but as a squabble about places and power. The Duke of Richmond and Burke tried to persuade me that Mr. Conway ought to break on Lord Edgcumbe, as their friends would desert the party, if the party did not resent the ill-treatment of individuals. I replied, I would neither flatter his Grace, nor Lord Rockingham; that, next to my country, I consulted Mr. Conway’s honour, and desired they should know it. That Mr. Conway could not break for Lord Edgcumbe, when he had not quarrelled with Lord Chatham on the Duke of Richmond’s account. That if he quarrelled on some constitutional point, he would bring double strength to the party. To break on persons might be called faction; and I thought too well of his friends to believe they would leave him. Hitherto they had not been very considerable; but their conduct in Administration, and their quiet behaviour since out of place, would give them new importance. That they said, Lord Chatham wanted to ruin their party: he might, but was recruiting them. That he would reduce himself to be dependent on Lord Bute, and would become of no consequence.—I did not persuade them, nor they me.

Lord Edgcumbe conducted himself with singular temper, being, in truth, desirous of an indemnification, which he told Mr. Conway he would still accept. The latter tried to obtain an earldom for him. Lord Chatham refused it with much verbiage, and pleaded the honour of the King engaged, and that himself had always determined to break all parties; and a wise method301 he took, no doubt, by declaring that intention! It was not much wiser when he condescended to intimate that he would offer something to Lord Edgcumbe, but not for some days, lest he should seem to be forced. Lord John Cavendish said to me, he supposed Lord Chatham would not yield. I replied, Certainly not; but if he would, we should have a great triumph. This was to reconcile them to it in case the offer came. He told me the Duke of Portland and Lord Besborough would resign, unless Mr. Conway should desire them not. I understood this; it was an artifice to lay him under stronger obligations to them. Lord Besborough, extremely unwilling to resign, offered to give up the Post Office to Lord Edgcumbe, and, though a place he should dislike, (for he was still an older man,) to take the Bedchamber himself. Mr. Conway, charmed, as thinking this would accommodate everything, immediately sent word of it to the Duke of Grafton; but in a little hour received from Lord Chatham a haughty and despotic answer, that he would not suffer connections to force the King. Mr. Conway, losing all patience, wrote to the Duke of Grafton, that such language had never been held west of Constantinople. Still, however, to prevent the rupture, I persuaded him to soften the expression to, in this country; and insinuated to him, that Lord Besborough’s offer was a snare laid by Lord John, and conceived from my having told him that Lord Chatham would certainly not bend.

On the 22nd the Duke of Grafton told Mr. Conway that Lord Chatham had no objection to his proposing anything to the King in favour of Lord Edgcumbe, but would not himself: and the Duke added, “If the King would still grant it.” This made me fear another repulse. Mr. Conway, however, who scorned to bend to Lord Chatham’s haughtiness, desired his brother to ask an audience of the King, in order to make the proposals. Yet I obtained a delay till I should try to prevail on Lord Edgcumbe to accept the Bedchamber. In the mean time I met Lord Rockingham, who, taking me aside, laughed at the idea of Lord Besborough’s proposal; said it was a joke, and that Lord Chatham would only have laughed at them for it. I said, very seriously, “What, my Lord, have you sent Mr. Conway on a fool’s errand, and now disavow him?” He replied, the party knew nothing of it. Lord Besborough had done it from himself to prevent a rupture. I said Mr. Conway had received the proposal from the Duke of Portland. He said, he was sure not: yet so it proved. He pressed me earnestly to encourage Mr. Conway to resign. I said I could not take upon me to advise him to give up all he had. He laughed and said, it could not be for long; everything came round in this country. I replied, “Your Lordship, with twenty thousand pounds a year, talks very much at your ease; but Mr. Conway would have nothing in the world, and would not go into opposition to recover his fortune. He has told both Lord Chatham and the Duke of Grafton that he will not oppose.” This conversation was so ill taken, which was indifferent to me, that it broke off all correspondence between me and Lord Rockingham. I went to Mr. Conway and represented to him that they were trying to dupe him: that they now disavowed him, as they had done on Lord Chatham’s visit to the Marquis; and I added, that though Lord Rockingham affected to resent so warmly for him the treatment of Lord Chatham, his Lordship had treated him in the same manner the last spring on the establishment for the Princes. I wished to stop Mr. Conway from resigning till Lord Chatham should have gained the Bedfords from George Grenville; I wished to give Grenville time to involve himself in further declarations for liberty; I wished Mr. Conway to have a regiment again, which I had been the cause of his losing; and I was not unwilling to convince Lord Rockingham and Lord John Cavendish that Mr. Conway was not to receive orders from them. Of these four points, of which the second in truth would have availed little302 but to disgrace Grenville if he returned to power, I accomplished all but one; and it will be soon seen that that, like many other prudential views, was defeated solely by the mismanagement of Lord Chatham. Wearisome contests it cost me for six months to prevent Mr. Conway’s resignation; and though I succeeded, and afterwards shut the door both on Grenville and Lord Rockingham, the person303 who profited of my fatigues, and of the credit I had with Mr. Conway, proved so unworthy; and so sick did I grow both of that person and of the fatigues I underwent, that I totally withdrew myself from the scene of politics, and tasted far more satisfaction in my retreat than I had done in the warmest moments of success and triumph. The joys of a private station present themselves—are bought by no anxiety. I never found pleasures answer that were purchased by trouble. It is like many moral aphorisms, a theme for poets, untrue in practice.

All proposals of accommodations proving fruitless,304 Lord Edgcumbe was dismissed, and his staff placed in Shelley’s hands. The wound rankled so deeply in Mr. Conway’s bosom, that he dropped all intercourse with Lord Chatham; and though he continued to conduct the King’s business in the House of Commons, he would neither receive nor pay any deference to the Minister’s orders, acting for or against, as he approved or disliked his measures;—a scorn that became his character, and which he supported with very different dignity from that of Lord Chatham, whose tone being fictitious and assumed, could not bear him out in the implicit obedience he expected. Like oracles and groves, whose sanctity depended on the fears of the devout, and whose mysterious and holy gloom vanished as soon as men dared to think and walk through them, Lord Chatham’s authority ceased with his popularity; and his godhead, when he had affronted his priests.

In all his actions was discernible an imitation of his model, Ximenes; a model ill-suited to a free government, and worse to a man whose situation and necessities were totally different. Was the poor monk thwarted or disgraced, the asylum of his convent was open; and a cardinal, who was clothed in a hair-cloth at Court, missed no fine linen, no luxury, in his cloister. Lord Chatham was as abstemious in his diet; but mixed Persian grandeur with herbs and roots. His equipages and train were too expensive for his highest zenith of wealth, and he maintained them when out of place and overwhelmed with debts: a wife and children were strange impediments to a Ximenes. Grandeur, show, and a pension could not wrestle with an opulent and independent nobility, nor could he buy them, though he had sold himself. His services to his country were far above those of Ximenes, who trampled on Castilian pride but to sacrifice it to the monarch of Castile. Lord Chatham had recalled the spirit of a brave nation, had given it victory and glory, and victory secured its liberty. As Ximenes had no such objects, the inflexibility of Ximenes was below the imitation of Camillus. It was mean ambition to stoop from humbling the crowned heads of France and Spain, to contend with proud individuals and the arrogance of factions—at least, would a real great man have doated on a coronet, who prided himself in lowering the peerage? Lord Chatham had been the arbiter of Europe; he affected to be the master of the English nobility: he failed, and remained with a train of domestics whom he could not pay. More like Nicholas Rienzi than Ximenes, the lord of Rome became ridiculous by apeing the tawdry pageant of a triumph. Yet, as what is here said is the voice of truth, not the hiss of satire, British posterity will ever remember that, as Lord Chatham’s first Administration obtained and secured the most real and substantial benefits to his country, the puerilities of his second could not efface their lustre. The man was lessened, not his merits. Even the shameful peace of Paris, concluded in defiance of him, could not rob the nation of all he had acquired; nor could George the Third resign so much as Pitt had gained for George the Second. Half the empire of Indostan, conquered under his Administration by the spirit he had infused, still pours its treasures into the Thames. Canada was subdued by his councils, and Spain and France—that yet dread his name, attest the reality of his services. The memory of his eloquence, which effected all these wonders, will remain when the neglect of his cotemporaries, and my criticisms, will be forgotten. Yet it was the duty of an annalist, and of a painter of nature, to exhibit the varying features of his portrait. The lights and shades of a great character are a moral lesson. Philosophy loves to study the man more than the hero or the statesman; and whether his qualities were real or fictitious, his actions were so illustrious, that few names in the registers of Time will excite more curiosity than that of William Pitt.

When Mr. Conway presented the Bill of Indemnity to the House, he ushered it in with strong declarations against the Chancellor’s doctrine of necessity justifying a dispensing power. He was much applauded by Grenville for extending the Indemnity to the Council, the latter inveighing against Lord Camden, and ascribing his tenets to folly, ignorance, weakness, and wickedness, such as cost Charles I. his life, and James II. his crown. Conway, who felt that himself had gone too far, took that opportunity of apologizing for the Chancellor, who, he said, he believed was no friend to a dispensing power in an odious light: the dispensing power claimed by Charles and James had not been founded on necessity. The Bill was ordered to be printed. After the debate I asked Lord John Cavendish if it was not more desirable to have the dispensing power condemned by a Minister than by a man in opposition?

Lord Chatham proposes to examine the East India Company’s Affairs.—His unaccountable conduct.—More signs of weakness in the Cabinet.—Negotiation with the Duke of Bedford.—Bill of Indemnity.—Debates on the East India Question.—Attack on Lord Chatham in the House of Lords by the Duke of Richmond.

These petty politics were soon absorbed in the consideration of a more momentous and more arduous affair. Restrained as Lord Chatham’s genius was by the tranquillity of Europe, and impeded as his plan had been by his own want of conduct, his soul was still expanding itself towards greater objects. With indignation, he beheld three Indian provinces, an empire themselves, in the hands of a company of merchants, who, authorized by their charter to traffic on the coast, had usurped so mighty a portion of his dominions from the Prince who permitted their commerce with his subjects. By what horrid treachery, fraud, violence, and blood the Company’s servants had stridden to such aggrandizement, was not a question a Minister was likely to ask. It is the cool humane man, who had no power to punish and redress such crimes, who alone reasons on the manner how, and the right by which such acquisitions are obtained. The stupendous fortunes created by individuals struck more forcibly on the political eye of Lord Chatham. Above any view of sharing the plunder himself, he saw a prey that tempted him to make it more his country’s. By threats to intimidate the Company, and incline them to offer largely towards the necessities of Government, was the least part of his idea. Such a tribute would stand in the place of new taxes, or relieve the debts on the Civil List: could he induce the Parliament to think the Company had exceeded the powers of their charter, the whole property of their territorial acquisitions might be deemed forfeited to the Crown; this would be a bribe with which few Ministers could purchase the smiles of their master. Nor could common sense find a flaw in the reasoning. Could it be intended, what country ever meant by granting a charter for trading and building forts to secure their magazines, say, even by allowing them to defend themselves against open hostilities; could it be understood, I ask, that such a charter gave up the dominion of whole provinces to a set of private merchants—of three provinces more ample than the extent of the country which bestowed the charter? The event could not be foreseen—it could not be foretold by prophecy’s wildest imagination; but if common sense could not answer the question, self-interest could. What! invade property!—those two words, Invasion of property, branched into every subtlety that law could furnish. And as it has been well said,305 that in England all abuses are freeholds, most of those that had property in the East India Company, most of those who had any other property, and all who enjoyed any property by abuses, took the alarm; and they who desired to obstruct any measures of Government, were sedulous not to let the panic cool.

But if the plan was great and bold, the execution was mean and unworthy of the conception. The man who traced the design, shrank from it himself; and having tossed it into the world, left it to be carried through by other hands. He grew mysterious; he would not declare what he wished—Parliament must decide—but his anger awaited those who should even decline guessing at his purpose. I feel while I write that I shall scarce be credited: yet both words and matter cannot be more strictly true. Lord Chatham would not utter his will or wish; yet neither obstacles nor remonstrance could extort a syllable of relaxation from him; but I must take the matter a little higher, and relate it more historically.

So early as the 28th of August the Cabinet Council had sent for the Governors of the East India Company, and advised them to be prepared, for Parliament would certainly inquire into the state of their acquisitions in Bengal. The Governors asked if the Administration intended to carry the affair thither? They were told that the Ministers had not determined to proceed so far, but did not mean to preclude themselves from doing so. Thus the affair had been left. The Company were to be alarmed; the nation to be tempted to look into the matter. The Company, no doubt, were alarmed accordingly; but the nation with folded arms awaited the event, not apt of late to forerun Ministers in what they declare they meditate themselves.

In this uncommunicated state the dictator had left the business, and the Parliament had met without his assigning their departments in the action to any of the Ministers—not to the Duke of Grafton himself, the head of the Treasury, and who, though as a peer not qualified to conduct the plan through the House of Commons, yet was the person who must superintend and transact an affair which, whether in a greater or less proportion, was ultimately to centre in the revenue, had he disclosed how far he meant or wished to go. In the mean time had intervened the episode of Lord Edgcumbe; and Conway, the acting Minister in the House of Commons, had been disgusted. Never officious to thrust himself into business, and now indisposed to the great projector, he neither was ambitious to receive orders, nor forward to apply for them at the fountain-head; yet being well disposed to the plan, and, at least, too much versed in business, not to know the propriety of digesting so very daring a scheme before it was thrown into the House of Commons, where, had there been no men of ill intention, still a rude design must create confusion and impediment, he had pressed earnestly to have it well considered in Council, before it was introduced into Parliament. His prayers and remonstrances were vain; and though Lord Chatham depended on him for the conduct of the Ministerial part, he would not deign to impart a ray of instruction. There was another man still more necessary perhaps to the progress of a scheme of a monied nature; and that was the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Charles Townshend. But him Lord Chatham neither trusted nor considered but as the mere slave of his orders. Be it so: yet could it be imagined that instead of employing either Secretary of State or Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Minister should have consigned his darling scheme to a private man—and that man the most absurd, and of as little weight as any member in the House of Commons? So the fact was, and so must I recount it. But ere the project was opened, it was known that the versatile genius of the Chancellor of the Exchequer was playing tricks and endeavouring to obstruct the measure yet in embryo. Conway, zealous for extracting some national advantage from the prosperous state of the Company’s affairs, laboured to surmount Townshend’s objections, and assembled a council at his own house to debate the point with him. Lord Chatham flamed at the notice of Townshend’s adverse conduct, and vowed himself would resign, or Townshend should be turned out; and he resented Conway’s interfering to serve him without his direction. Yet, ere the business came to any conclusion, Townshend exhibited many doubts; though for once his inconsistencies and treachery were not solely dictated by unsteadiness. It became known that his frequent fluctuations in the course of the affair were so many wiles to raise or lower the stock in which he was dealing, and which the Chancellor of the Exchequer could supremely agitate and depress as he pleased.

On the 25th the plan was first intimated to the House by Lord Chatham’s confident, Alderman Beckford, who moved to take into consideration the state of the East India Company’s affairs. Men were amazed to see a machine of such magnitude entrusted to so wild a charioteer. Wedderburne and Charles Yorke opposed the motion. The Whigs deserted Mr. Conway who supported it, by the mouth of their spokesman, Lord John Cavendish, though he paid profuse compliments to the latter. Burke and Grenville appeared as opponents, too, and the violation of property was sounded high. Yet the motion was carried by 129 to 76, Charles Townshend speaking for it, and the Duke of Bedford’s friends staying away.306 The wind, however, of this transaction, and the dissensions that had sprung up from the dismission of Lord Edgcumbe, brought Lord Temple back to town. Grenville painted the East Indian business to Rigby as a mine in which Lord Chatham must blow himself up; and that idea was impressed more deeply by Lord Northington, who said to Lord Gower, “There are four parties, Bute’s, Bedford’s, Rockingham’s, and Chatham’s, and we (the last) are the weakest of the four.”

On the 27th of November the Duke of Portland, Lord Scarborough, Lord Besborough, and Lord Monson resigned their employments. The King immediately appointed Lord Hertford Lord Chamberlain; but told him that, knowing his brother’s delicacy on the preferment of his relations, he had hidden the stick and key, while Mr. Conway, who had just been with him, was in the closet.

This defection of the Rockingham party, of whom scarce a dozen307 remained in connection with the Court, reduced Lord Chatham, who had defeated his own purpose of dividing them, to look out for new strength. There remained Lord Bute’s and the Duke of Bedford’s factions. He approached towards both; but so coldly, and with such limited steps, that he acquired neither, and fixed the last in more open opposition. By preferring a few of the Favourite’s creatures, he drew odium on himself, without doing enough to engage their real attachment, the very rock on which his predecessors had split, though their more reluctant offers having arrived too late, they had escaped the imputation of stooping to servile conditions. Lord Chatham’s conduct towards the Bedfords was as void of dexterity as his treatment of the Rockingham party.

The very evening of the resignations he sent for Lord Gower, and offered to make him Master of the Horse, and to connect with the Duke of Bedford; but telling him that if they declined his offers, he could stand without them. With regard to Mr. Rigby, he had talked so hostilely on the East Indian affair, that he must explain his conduct before anything could be done for him. Lord Gower, impatient to return to Court, jealous of Rigby’s influence over his sister, the Duchess, and satisfied with such fair terms for himself, gladly accepted the commission, and set out next morning for Woburn to open it to the Duke of Bedford and obtain his acquiescence.

Rigby, in the mean time, whether apprehending that the wildness of Lord Chatham would overturn him, or overpersuaded by Grenville, or rather hoping no great emolument for himself, from Lord Chatham’s neglect of him and application through another, had preceded Lord Gower, and got to Woburn overnight. He found the Duchess as eager as her brother to return to Court, and the Duke prepared by her not to listen to his objections. The next day he had the mortification of seeing Lord Gower arrive, and of hearing the suspension imposed on himself till he should correct his behaviour. Deaf to his arguments and interest, the whole family accepted with thankfulness Lord Chatham’s overtures, and Lord Gower was remanded to town to notify their consent and the Duke’s intention to follow and ratify the treaty. Rigby remained a day behind, but could not recall the Duke from the alacrity with which he hurried to London.

But even before Lord Gower could arrive there, Lord Chatham, who rarely deigned to impart his measures to the rest of the Ministers, had now, with still less prudence, notified to the Council his offers to the Bedfords, in the style of one sure of their being accepted. At the same time, speaking of the resigners, he said, they were only the remnant of the late Duke of Cumberland’s party. Conway fired at the expression, and said he would hear no such language, nor ever bear disrespectful mention of the Duke of Cumberland’s name. Lord Chatham retracted; if he had not, Mr. Conway protested to me he would have left the Council and returned to it no more.

Lord Gower had gone on the Friday, and returned the next day with the Duke of Bedford’s assent; and the Duke himself arrived on the Monday. Yet, in that little interval, considerable events had happened, and a far more considerable imprudence of Lord Chatham. Admiral Saunders, a most gallant, but weak man, governed by Admiral Keppel and Lord Albemarle, had been persuaded by them to throw up his post of First Lord of the Admiralty, and join his old friends the Rockinghams.308 The blow was heavy on Lord Chatham, but facilitated his treaty with the Bedfords, as he had thereby a Cabinet-Councillor’s place to offer them. Instead of profiting of the opportunity, and as if the Bedford faction were men easily satisfied, and with trifles, he would not wait for the Duke, but filled up the Admiralty with Sir Edward Hawke, Sir Piercy Brett, and Jenkinson—the two last in the room of Sir William Meredith and Keppel, resigners; at the same time causing Keppel to be struck out of the King’s Bedchamber. Sir Edward Hawke had as much merit in his profession and to his country as man could have, but no moment of rewarding him could have been more imprudently taken. Though the place might have been destined for him, still the faith of negotiation ought to have been observed till Lord Chatham could have satisfied the Bedfords and agreed with them on that disposition. And where was the policy of warning them that he meant to admit them into no office of confidence?

Rigby, too alert and too artful to let slip an incident so favourable to his inclination, and who saw from this step how little would be allotted to his party, and aware, from the treatment of the Rockinghams, that Lord Chatham meant little more than to break the Bedford connection too, inflamed the Duke of Bedford and all their friends with the indignity offered to them in the very hour of treaty. The Duchess had been left at Woburn, trusting to the impression she had made on her husband, whom she was now as solicitous to recover from Rigby’s influence, as in their younger intimacy she had been to place him there. Her security betrayed her; the Duke caught fire; and he who had thought the most bounded terms satisfactory, was now persuaded to carry to Lord Chatham a list of demands that comprehended half the employments in the Court-calendar, besides peerages for some of his friends.309 Such enormous terms Rigby knew would not be granted; but the demand would palliate to their friends the total sacrifice that would have been made of them if he and one or two more had found their account in the first proposals. Lord Chatham received his Grace’s extravagant list, but told him he did not believe the King would comply with his demands. The next day he waited on the Duke and informed him that his Majesty was willing to make his son, Lord Tavistock, a peer: to appoint Lord Gower Master of the Horse, and Mr. Rigby Cofferer; but as for entering on other particulars of places and peerages, his Majesty would not hear of them. The Duke begged his Majesty might be thanked for his goodness to his son, but said his friends could not think of accepting on such terms.310 Thus an end was put at once to the negotiation. In the list had been asked posts of Cabinet Councillor for Lord Gower, Lord Sandwich, Lord Weymouth, and the Duke of Marlborough, or the first vacant garter for the latter (the Duke’s son-in-law) after the King’s brother, Henry, the new Duke of Cumberland, and peerages for Lord Lorne and Mr. Brand,311 though the Duke of Bedford, at the commencement of the treaty, had positively refused the former to solicit for him.312

The treaty evaporated, the vacant employments were filled with some of Lord Bute’s creatures, and any stragglers without connexion that could be picked up. Thus the Duke of Ancaster was made Master of the Horse to the King, and was succeeded in the same rank to the Queen by Earl Delawar, already her servant. Lord Hilsborough and Lord Despenser were appointed joint Postmasters; Nugent,313 First Lord of Trade; and Stanley, Cofferer.

Conway’s disgusts were doubled by seeing himself reduced to act with scarce any but Lord Bute’s friends; and had Lord Chatham continued the effective Minister, would, I am persuaded, have resigned like the rest, for however gentle when he met with respect, he was minutely jealous of the smallest neglect, and incompatible with the haughty temper of Lord Chatham. Charles Townshend, restless in any situation, fond of mischief, and not without envy of the lead allotted to Conway, was incessant in inciting him to retire, by painting to him the pride and folly of Lord Chatham, the improbability of his maintaining such shattered power, and alarming him with threats of resigning and leaving him alone in the House of Commons.

To this mad situation had Lord Chatham reduced himself; first, by quitting the House of Commons and thereby parting with his popularity; secondly, by disgusting the Whigs, his best and firmest support; thirdly, by never communicating a syllable to Mr. Conway, nor trusting him, though his only friend in the House of Commons; fourthly, by turning out Lord Edgcumbe, when all opposition was damped and in a manner annihilated; and, lastly, by not gaining the Bedfords from Grenville, when it was in his power. He had nothing left to try, but whether by the mere influence of the Crown, without leaders, and almost without speakers in the House of Commons, he could govern against all the other parties,314 who, though hating each other, would all probably unite against him.

Conway, however out of temper, supported honourably the duty of his station; and, in the course of the Bill of Indemnity, distinguished both his zeal and capacity. In the Committee, Grenville and Rigby moved to have stated the losses of those who had suffered by acting under the order of Council. Burke and Dowdeswell spoke on the same side; but Conway, by an artful speech, gained over Dowdeswell, and Grenville did not dare to divide the House. He next tried to avoid the preamble of the bill, and moved to adjourn. Charles Townshend and he had a sharp altercation, in which Townshend both ridiculed and flattered him. Lord Granby declared warmly for Lord Chatham; Conway spoke handsomely of him too, though intending to add censure to praise, but was interrupted by Rigby; and thus the praise remained alone. The Cavendishes having been consulted on the bill, would therefore not divide against it, and went away. Rigby, impatient to mark his resentment to Lord Chatham, and fondly thinking their numbers would appear formidable, even without the Cavendishes, advised to push a division; and Wedderburne actually divided the House when the Ministerial party amounted to 166, and the Opposition but to 48: a signal victory in Lord Chatham’s circumstances! But Lord Bute’s friends had signalized themselves in his support. Elliot and Dyson spoke for him; and Sir Fletcher Norton retired rather than vote against him. It was even suspected that Wedderburne, who, though of the same corps, commonly opposed like Norton, to force himself into place, had treacherously drawn on the division to expose the weakness of an Opposition without harmony; nor was there anything in Wedderburne’s character to counteract the suspicion. Some there were who believed that Lord Bute, apprehending the junction of Lord Chatham and the Bedfords, had, during the treaty, made overtures to the former, which had encouraged him to act so imprudently and cavalierly in that negotiation. But, if duped then, it never appeared afterwards that Lord Chatham had given himself up to a real connection with the Favourite.

If the Opposition were startled at their defeat, and Rigby did repent his precipitancy, Mr. Conway was not a little startled too. He saw Lord Chatham would stand, whether he quitted or not. He had declared against going into opposition; nor was it his inclination. Should he quit in those circumstances, he would become a cypher, and remain divested of his profession. I saw his difficulties and felt them. I told him that he had lately asked me whether I would advise him to stay and be turned out with disgrace with a falling Administration? I reminded him that in those circumstances I had acquiesced, and had allowed that he could not stay, nor support alone a system that hung on Lord Bute. But the case was altered now: it was plain the Opposition was too weak to demolish Lord Chatham; and therefore, as Lord Chatham was likely to continue in power, I wished him to stay in place likewise. At the same time I sent Lord Hertford to beg his Majesty would press Mr. Conway not to quit. The King said he had just written to Mr. Conway, and told him his Government depended on his conducting the business of the House of Commons. Lord Hertford replied, he believed his brother was more inclined to stay than he had been. The King said, eagerly, “How have you brought it about? I am sure you and Mr. Walpole have done it.”

On the 9th, Beckford proceeded on the East Indian plan, and moved for inspection of their charters, treaties, revenue in Bengal, and an account of what they had expended. He expatiated justly on the devastation the Company’s servants had committed, and urged that new adventurers, not old proprietors of India Stock, were the men who profited of this accession of wealth, and who were practising all arts to convert into a selfish job a source of riches that ought to be conducted to national advantage. The Opposition treated the plan as chimerical. Could Bengal, they asked, be stated as a permanent possession? Cust, the Speaker’s brother, concerned in the Company, admitted that the Government was entitled to expect a return from the Company, as their settlements had been preserved by the navy, and depended on the protection of the public. But though his confession was candid, he was faithful too to the interests of the Company, and started many difficulties. No proposal, he said, could be made but to the General Court of Proprietors. Many proprietors would object, not intending to continue so. The revenue was not so large as pretended. Lord Clive computed it at one million seven hundred thousand pounds: Sumner’s account settled it at one million four hundred thousand; himself did not believe it exceeded twelve hundred thousand. The Company, on their forts, armaments, &c., had expended five millions. Senegal and Goree, while in private hands, were maintained for eight thousand pounds a year; since the public had taken them under their own direction, they had cost twenty-six thousand pounds a year. Burke, in one of his finest speeches, declaimed against the measure: it was the first instance of dragging to the bar men with whom the public meant to treat. They were accused, that their property might be confiscated. A dangerous attempt was making for little advantage. On Lord Chatham his figures were severe, painting him as a great Invisible Power, that left no Minister in the House of Commons. The greatest Integrity (Conway) had no power there. The rest approached him veiling their faces with their wings. Let us supplicate this divinity, said he, that he would spare public credit. Augustus Hervey called him to order. “I have often suffered,” added Burke, “under persecution of order, but did not expect its lash while at my prayers. I venerate the great man, and speak of him accordingly.”315 Many other speeches were made for and against the motion, particularly by the lawyers; on which Colonel Barré said, the artillery of the law he saw was brought down on both sides; but, like artillery, had not done much hurt. He was for trying this question by common sense. He then read the opinions which Lord Camden and Charles Yorke had given when the charter was granted, in which, though favourable to the Company, they had said, “for what might follow, policy must take time to consider.” This implied that they did not understand conquests as granted away by the charter; yet Yorke had now defended the Company as entitled from their charter to their present acquisitions. Bolton, one of the Company, who, though he voted for the motion, said much against it, owned that the Company could not govern their servants, nor could Clive go on without the interposition of Government. Charles Townshend, having been chidden by the Duke of Grafton for his variations, took advantage of what Bolton had said, and spoke finely for the motion. Grenville, in answer to Barré, said he did not desire to be decided by military common sense; and dwelt with much emphasis on the sacredness of charters, property, and public credit; affirming that the affairs of no company had ever been decided in that House. Conway showed in a masterly manner that Grenville’s assertions were all false; that the affairs of the Hudson’s Bay and other companies had been inquired into by Parliament. In answer to Burke, he said, he disclaimed slavery; was only a passenger in Administration, but always remonstrated against whatever was contrary to his opinion. Dempster, as a proprietor, declared against the motion; but though Grenville had announced the dissatisfaction the measure would occasion, it created less heat than he expected: nor did either directors or proprietors petition against it, those who had been most alarmed soon discovering that whatever should be gained from the Company, would stand in lieu of burthens that otherwise might be laid on themselves. The Opposition dividing for adjournment were beaten by 140 to 56; not above twenty of Lord Rockingham’s party having yet joined Grenville.

The next day the Bill of Indemnity, which had passed the Commons, was read in the House of Lords. The Duke of Richmond called on the Chancellor and President to explain their doctrine of necessity justifying a dispensing power. Lord Northington adhered to his opinion, and said, on a jury he should have found for the affirmative. Lord Camden said, he should not, but would have given trifling or no damages to the sufferers. Lord Mansfield went through a laborious history of the Constitution, and vindicated himself from the reproach of being a prerogative lawyer: had always been a friend to the Constitution; on that ground had supported former Administrations, did support this, and would support succeeding Administrations. Lord Camden told him, he was glad he was returned to that doctrine. Lord Chatham said, that when the people should condemn him, he should tremble; but would set his face against the proudest connection in this country. The Duke of Richmond took this up with great heat and severity, and said, he hoped the nobility would not be brow-beaten by an insolent Minister. The House calling him to order, he said with great quickness, he was sensible truth was not to be spoken at all times, and in all places. Lord Chatham challenged the Duke to give an instance in which he had treated any man with insolence; if the instance was not produced, the charge of insolence would lie on his Grace. The Duke said, he could not name the instance without betraying private conversation; and he congratulated Lord Chatham on his new connection, the Duke looking, as he spoke, at Lord Bute. The Duke of Bedford did not speak, though he had been brought to town on purpose: but the Duchess, displeased with Rigby for breaking off the negotiation, had accompanied her husband, and even tried to renew the treaty, but was forced to desist, the places being filled up. On the Bill of Indemnity there was no division; and on the 15th the Parliament was adjourned for the holidays.

Notwithstanding his success, Lord Chatham was stunned by so rough an attack from the Duke of Richmond, a young man not to be intimidated by supercilious nods, or humbled by invective, which his Grace had shown himself more prone to give than receive. The silence of the place, and the decency of debate there, were not suited to that inflammatory eloquence by which Lord Chatham had been accustomed to raise huzzas from a more numerous auditory. Argument, at least decorum, would be expected, not philippics. Whether these reflections contributed or not to augment the distaste which the ill-success of his foreign, and the errors he had committed in domestic politics, had impressed on his mind, certain it is that the Duke of Richmond had the honour of having the world believe that by one blow he had revenged himself and his party, and driven his proud enemy from the public stage; for from that day Lord Chatham, during the whole remainder of his Administration, appeared no more in the House of Lords, really becoming that invisible and inaccessible divinity which Burke has described, and in three months as inactive a divinity as the gods of Epicurus.316 His last act was bestowing an English barony on Lord Lorne, who, having failed through the Duke of Bedford, applied himself directly to the Minister. Lord Lorne had acquainted Mr. Conway with his wish, who was greatly distressed, as a favour from Lord Chatham (whom Mr. Conway intended to quit) might again destroy the harmony which was now re-established between him and his wife’s brothers. Still, however, as the Duke of Argyle was old and declining, and as Lord Lorne would lose the English peerage317 for ever, if he did not obtain it during his father’s life, Mr. Conway would not oppose the request; though, circumstanced as he was, he would not ask it. It was immediately granted; and Lord Chatham, by bending seasonably, took from the Duke of Bedford’s scale the great Scottish interest of the Campbells.

Towards the East India Company he was less tractable. At a meeting of the proprietors many warm speeches were made against him, particularly by Wedderburne. They broke up in heat, and adjourned for a fortnight, determined to make no advances to Government, unless their right was established, which Lord Chatham peremptorily refused to allow. However, on the last day of the year, they met again in smoother temper, and agreed unanimously to empower the Directors of the Company to treat immediately with the Administration.

Desultory Discussions on American and East Indian Affairs.—Debates on the Land Tax.—Defeat of the Ministers.—Conduct of Lord Chatham.—Offer made by the East India Company.—Motion for Papers.

When the Parliament met again on the 16th of January, nothing was ready to be presented for their discussion on the East India Company. Lord Chatham, on his journey from Bath, was, or pretended to be, seized with the gout, and returned thither. Whether ill or not, it was plain he had determined to give no directions, for he sent none. He corresponded with none of the Ministers; and they were not eager to anticipate his intentions. The Duke of Grafton was charmed to be idle, Conway was disgusted, Townshend delighted in the prospect of confusion; however, on the 21st Beckford laid before the House of Commons the papers he intended to employ against the Company. Townshend moved to have the consideration put off for some time, to which Beckford acquiesced.

On the 26th, the disposition of the troops in America being laid before the House, Grenville proposed that the Colonies should pay the regiments employed there. Beckford told him he was mad on the Stamp Act, and could think of nothing else: Charles Townshend ridiculed and exposed him infinitely on the same topic. Lord George Sackville blaming the disposition of the troops in that part of the world, Lord Granby told him the plan had been drawn by his own friend, General Amherst: the Court had a majority of 106 to 35. The next day, on the report, Grenville, dividing the House, had the mortification of being followed but by sixteen members, the Rockingham squadron declining union with him, and the Bedfords being kept back by the Duchess, still restless to return to Court.

On the 3rd of February the House of Lords decided a great cause in favour of the Dissenters against the City of London, who asserted a right of fining them for refusing to act as Sheriffs;318 Lord Mansfield made another Whig oration.

It happened at this period that Mr. Conway, who talked of nothing but resigning, became in want of a secretary, William Burke quitting his service to follow his cousin Edmund into opposition. My surprise was very great when Mr. Conway declared his resolution of making David Hume, the historian, who had served his brother, Lord Hertford, in the same capacity at Paris, his secretary. This by no means wore the air of an intention to quit himself; Lord Hertford, I believe, had started the thought, and on tracing the scent, I found there had been some indirect negotiation between the King and Lord Hertford to engage Mr. Conway to be Prime Minister himself. Lord Hertford thought his brother not averse to the idea, though extremely weary of the Seals of Secretary. Himself told me that the King had asked him if Lord Chatham was not very tedious in Council, and had complained of the long speeches he made to him, as Mr. Grenville had been used to do. Conway, no doubt, at three or four different periods, might have been Minister; but though nobody was inwardly more hurt at superiors, he never had a settled ambition of being first, nor whenever we talked to him with that view, could he determine to yield to the temptation. I was pleased, however, with the designation of Hume, as it would give jealousy to the Rockinghams, who had not acted wisely in letting Burke detach himself from Mr. Conway; and I prevailed on Lady Hertford to write a second letter, more pressing than her Lord’s, to Mr. Hume to accept. The philosopher did not want much entreaty; but it was in vain that I laboured to preserve any harmony between Lord Chatham and Conway; the wildness of the former baffled all policy. On the 6th of February Beckford was again forced to put off the consideration of Indian affairs, and not a word was said against it; his warmest opponents waiting maliciously to see where this strange interlude would end. Lord Chatham at last announced, though he would not deign to send any answer to the letters or solicitations of the Ministry, that he would be in town on the 12th; Beckford, however, gave out that he had received a letter from him, which said the terms offered by the Company were inadmissible;—they were left to guess in what particulars. To Lord Bristol this mysterious Dictator was more condescending, and wrote to him that he would come, dead or alive—a notification the more ridiculous, as having at last quitted Bath, he was again seized with the gout, as he said, and confined himself to the inn at Marlborough, still inaccessible and invisible, though surrounded by a train of domestics that occupied the whole inn, and wore the appearance of a little Court. This was the more remarked, as on his setting out from Bath he had at first left most of his servants behind, and they declared that they expected him back.

The Opposition diverted themselves with the novelty of this scene, and levelled their chief attacks at Beckford, the substitute out of place, of a Minister who would do no business. Burke indirectly shot some of his arrows at Conway; and even out of the House some satires on the Administration, in which Conway was not spared, were strongly suspected to come from the same quarter, and were much resented by the latter.

On the 18th, on the North American extraordinaries, Beckford was very abusive on George Grenville. Rigby reproached Colonel Barré with his former attacks on Lord Chatham, and with not defending him now; and he taxed Charles Townshend with his subjection to Lord Chatham, which drew a fine oration from Townshend on his own situation and on that of America. Grenville proposed two addresses to the Crown, to call the garrisons nearer to the capitals of each colony, and to employ any money that should be obtained from the East India Company in America. These motions were rejected by 131 to 67.

On the 20th, Townshend again moved to put off the East Indian affair, as the Company were on the morrow to give an explanation of their former proposals. Rigby asked, with a sneer, if the next appointed hearing was to be definitive, and abused Beckford in gross terms.

In the Lords the Duke of Bedford moved, on the 25th, for all correspondence with our Governors in America. The Duke of Grafton promised they should have all they could want; but the Chancellor, sensible that the Duke had gone too far, endeavoured to qualify the promise, and added, that since the right of taxation (which himself had denied) had been voted by Parliament, the Government was obliged to support it.

The great majorities of the Court, notwithstanding the inactivity of the Ministers, did not dishearten the Opposition so much as that supineness encouraged them to attempt a capital stroke. It was conducted with the greatest secrecy, crowned with incredible success, confounded the Administration, produced not the smallest benefit to the successful contrivers, but occasioned the expedient of another measure, that gave a deep and lasting wound to the country: not to mention that the perpetrators themselves were sensible of the mischief they should do in the first instance.

The land-tax is the surest fund of revenue to the Government. It had usually been but two shillings in the pound. The war and the increase of the National Debt had mounted it to four shillings. Grenville, during his Administration, in confidence of his economic plans, and to lull the country gentlemen with fair promises, had dropped that the land-tax, he believed, might be reduced in the year 1767 to three shillings. If the country gentlemen expected that alleviation, nobody else did; nor could Grenville, had he remained Minister, have realized the hopes he had thrown out. But what he could not have effected himself, he was now glad of distressing the Ministers by proposing.319 He and Rigby had artfully prepared a call of the House against the day of voting the land-tax, in order to bring to town the country Members, who would not only be favourable to the diminution, but must vote for it to please their electors, as the Parliament was near its dissolution. The Tories, too, though inclined to the Court, were become enemies to Lord Chatham, who, having lost them as soon as he lost his power, had treated them with much contempt in his speeches on the Stamp Act. He had now trusted to his majorities, or that the other Ministers would take care to secure them. But besides that the land-tax had usually passed as a matter of course, no care was taken to watch the House of Commons. Conway, in the last Administration, could not be induced to traffic with Members, though offended that none of them paid court to him; much less was he inclined now to support Lord Chatham’s measures by any indirect proceedings. The Duke of Grafton was cold and ungracious; and having offered to repair to Marlborough, and earnestly solicited permission to settle the East Indian business with Lord Chatham, had been peremptorily refused access.320

Under such a concurrence of untoward circumstances, Charles Townshend proposed the usual tax of four shillings on land, saying, that with other savings and with what might be obtained from the East India Company, Government would be enabled to pay off the four per cents; and pledging himself, that if he should remain Chancellor of the Exchequer another year, he would be for taking off one shilling from land. The Opposition was opened by Dowdeswell, who moved for only three shillings—a man who, having been so lately the active Minister of the finances, knew but too well how ill Government could afford to make the abatement.321 That very consideration weighed with Lord Rockingham’s faction to join even their aversion, Grenville. Edmund Burke alone had the honesty to stay away rather than support so pernicious a measure. Sir Edmund Isham322 and Sir Roger Newdigate,323 half-converted Jacobites, declared, as representatives of the Tories, for the lesser sum, and the latter, to blacken Lord Chatham, made a panegyric on Sir Robert Walpole. They were answered extremely well by Lord North, who began to be talked of for Chancellor of the Exchequer. De Grey, Member for Norfolk, and brother of the Attorney-General, in a strange motley speech, in which he commended Grenville, abused the Administration, blamed and commended Lord Chatham, declared for the three shillings, and vented much invective on eastern and western governors, commissaries, and placemen, who, he and Sir Roger Newdigate said, thrust all the ancient families out of their estates. Beckford, though one of the Members for the City of London, on which the tax fell heaviest, yet said he would concur in what was necessary for the State. Lord Clare showed that all taxes fall ultimately on land, and that the measure of three shillings would be popular only with gentlemen of estates, would not ease labourers, farmers, artificers, and merchants. He spoke with encomium of Lord Chatham, who had first been represented as become insignificant by his peerage, now was reviled as sole Minister. Dr. Hay artfully took notice that Townshend had said he would propose some tax this year on America. Townshend explained, that it was to be done by degrees and on mature consideration; but the loss of the question of one shilling more on land hurried Townshend into new taxes on America, which not only were not well considered by himself or the House, but furnished those repeated occasions of disgust to America, or new pretences for disgust, which opened again the wounds that the repeal of the Stamp Act had closed, and reduced the mother-country to more humiliations, and even to employ the army in curbing their mutinous brethren—happy if either experiment be tried no farther than they have yet been at the end of 1769! Grenville made a great figure on this unhappy question, and, throwing off all reserve about Lord Chatham, remembered that the first year after the Peace, he had asked why one shilling in the pound was not taken off land?324 He also detailed all the savings himself had made, and said, he would not answer Mr. Townshend, who had asked where any new tax could be laid, with the end of an old song, “Tell me, gentle shepherd, where?”325 That quotation had been much applauded; himself should be hissed if he made such an answer; but it had always, he said, been Lord Chatham’s style: he would spend money, but left others to raise it. A fool could ruin an estate, a fool and a knave could ruin a nation. He was not gentle on Lord North, who had deserted him for the Court. Conway answered Grenville but indifferently; and Lord John Cavendish closed the debate with an affected point of honour, advising to lessen the tax now, lest, if delayed till the next session, the House should seem to court popularity at the eve of a general election. At past nine at night the House divided, and to the extreme surprise of both sides, (for the Opposition had not dared to flatter themselves with an idea of victory,) the four shillings in the pound were lost by 188 to 206.326 The confidence of the Court had contributed to their defeat, several of their friends, not doubting of success, having voted against their inclination, to please their constituents. Lord Granby and Sir William Maynard327 were almost the only members for counties, who had dared to risk their popularity by voting for the larger tax. Cooke, one of the representatives for Middlesex, though devoted to Lord Chatham, had thought he might venture to go against the Court. Thomas Pelham, with the white stick in his hand, was forced by the Duke of Newcastle, as Member for Sussex, to take the same part. Some of the Duke of Grafton’s young friends, not suspecting a contest, had gone out of town that very day: but the most offensive blow to the Crown was given by the Duke of York, who, though his establishment was on the point of being settled, allowed some of his own servants to fail the Court, Colonel St. John,328 one of the grooms of his bedchamber, voting against it; and Cadogan,329 his treasurer, attached to Grenville, and whose place of surveyor of Kensington Garden had newly been increased to 1000l. a year, absenting himself. Two years afterwards, this same man had the modesty to accept a still more lucrative employment.330 Morton too, a Tory, in whose favour Lord Chatham had lately quashed an opposition at Abingdon, repaid the service with similar gratitude.

This was the first important question lost by the Crown since the fall of Sir Robert Walpole. Mr. Pelham had been defeated in an inconsiderable tax on sugar by the treachery of Lord Granville. It was not less remarkable that the Crown, which had been able to muster 224 votes in favour of that crying grievance, General Warrants, found but 188 ready to support a tax so essential to Government, that it had been proved that unless means could be found to lessen the debt, the nation would be unable to engage in a new, however necessary, war. The Bank was ready to advance 500,000l. on the land-tax; but the weightier these arguments, the more obdurate the Opposition. Still they had no other satisfaction than in the perpetration of the mischief. No popularity ensued: the City, where the national interest was best understood, condemned such public disservice, and spread the cry of disapprobation. Many who had lent their voices to the Opposition, repented; and, what the latter alone felt with shame, the Court recovered its ascendant—a proof that surprise was the only weapon their antagonists could use to effect, and against which the Ministers were now put upon their guard. By Ministers I mean the substitutes and the alarmed friends of Lord Bute. Prone as he was to change and betray, he did not choose to be compelled to change, nor to be taken prisoner by Grenville and the Bedfords.

It was not impossible to have recovered the question by recommitting it on the report, but the Ministers did not think it prudent to venture. Charles Townshend spoke on it only to protest against the consequences of so destructive a resolution. Between Lord North and Rigby some wit passed that had no good humour for its foundation.

On the 2nd of March Lord Chatham arrived from Marlborough. Any man in his senses would have concluded, that, having felt the disastrous effects of his inactivity, he had hurried to town to endeavour to retrieve his influence in the House of Commons, and to apply himself to more vigorous measures. On the contrary, as if there was dignity in folly, and magic in perverseness, as if the way to govern mankind was to insult their understandings, his conduct was the very reverse of common sense, and made up of so much undissembled scorn of all the world, that his friends could not palliate it, nor his enemies be blamed for resolving it into madness. He was scarce lame, and even paraded through the town in a morning to take the air. Yet he neither went to the King, nor suffered the Ministers to come to him.331 After much importunity he saw the Duke of Grafton once or twice, but would not permit the other Councillors to wait even in his antichamber. A Cabinet Council being summoned on the East Indian affair, nobody could prevail on Lord Chatham to let it be held at his house. His few intimates ascribed this ill-humour to his dissatisfaction with Conway and Townshend, who had declared they thought the Company had a right to their conquests. Lord Chatham vowed he would risk his situation on that question, and would defend it himself in the House of Lords. Townshend went so far as to be unwilling to dispute their right. Conway was inclined to let them apprehend its being questioned, that they might offer more largely to the necessities of Government. Lord Chatham, who, when obstinacy failed, knew not how to make himself obeyed, privately waived the point of right, but insisted on its not being told that he had relaxed. His menaces, however, had so much effect, that the directors offered to give up half their revenues and half their trade, with the right annexed. These last words were differently interpreted: some of the Cabinet thinking the directors meant to waive, others to save their right; and in that dilemma the Cabinet broke up in confusion, though it was easy to have asked the directors the meaning of their own words. Conway declared he would not undertake the conduct of that business, but would cede his province to any man that would; and the King telling Lord Hertford that he (his Majesty) must support Lord Chatham, Conway and Townshend declined going to the meetings that were held at the Duke of Grafton’s on that subject. They were private meetings of some of the leading men in the House of Commons, the stiffness of Lord Chatham having reduced him to seek for any men in the subordinate class who would carry on the business—a disgrace which, at the moment of having lost a capital question, seemed sufficient to blast his whole Administration. Conway had in vain pressed for these meetings for four months together. Now, when the question was within two days of appearing in the House, no determination was taken, and there was no Minister to carry it through. These difficulties were increased by a rage for stock-jobbing that had seized all ranks of men. It was more shameful, that above sixty members who were to sit in judgment on the Company, were known to be engaged in that dirty practice. The Chancellor of the Exchequer himself was vehemently suspected of having caught the contagion.332

The day of expectation arrived at last, March the 6th—but ended in smoke. As Lord Chatham’s plan was to be content with nothing the Company could offer, that he might at last get the whole into his hands, or reduce them by force to cede a much larger portion of their revenues than he could expect they would offer till driven to that necessity, he had eagerly rejected the plan presented by them to the Treasury; and Beckford now, to obtain from the House disapprobation of those offers, moved to have all papers, that had passed between the Government and the Company for the last six months, laid before the House. This motion, which had the sanction of the Ministry, for it was seconded by Colonel Fitzroy, was not only disapproved of by the Opposition, (who treated it as a measure of delay in Beckford, during the ill-humour of his friend Lord Chatham, and as a matter nugatory, since the paper being only an offer from the Treasurer of the Company to the Treasury, it was not an act of the General Court, and could consequently be disavowed by the proprietors,) but was objected to by Charles Townshend too, as the measure was incomplete; questions, he said, being asked on the proposals, and answers still more obscure returned. And to show his dissatisfaction, he desired the House to consider him as a private Member of Parliament. Conway, with more decency, let it be perceived that he was not much better content; however, to disculpate his friend the Duke of Grafton, he said, the Duke had warned the directors that the paper would come before Parliament, nor would accept it till they allowed of that condition. His own opinion, he said, he would not declare. He understood the proposal as yet was neither rejected nor accepted. He wished not to see the paper in the House, till either rejected or accepted; lamented the step taken, but could not obstruct it. Charles Yorke vindicated the Company. Grenville, Burke, and Wedderburne treated Chatham and Beckford with scorn, and laboured to raise a spirit against the idea of force to be put on the Company, and to baffle any benefit being received by the Government. In the midst of the debate, the military and naval chiefs, by their posts members of the Cabinet, but with all their merits very incompetent judges of state affairs, and still worse qualified to engage in the subtleties of a Parliamentary discussion,—both, I say, Lord Granby and Sir Edward Hawke blabbed out the secret which the Ministers were veiling, and which even the treachery and loquacity of Townshend had not dared openly to disclose. Lord Granby told the House that the offers had been found inadmissible; and Sir Edward, to engage the House to send for the paper, declared that the majority of the Council had rejected it. These blunders defeated Lord Chatham’s view, which was to steal the disapprobation of the House, or at worst, should the House admit the proposal, he would stand disculpated to the public for having made no better a bargain. This unlucky truth divulged, drew much ridicule on the managers; and now the secret was out, the Opposition suffered the motion to pass without a negative.

The adversaries, however, had not so soon forgotten to what they had owed their late success; and having acquiesced in the printing of the papers, they flattered themselves the Ministers would the less expect an attack in that quarter. Accordingly, on the 9th, Jones,333 an East Indian director, a tool of Lord Sandwich, presented a petition from the Company, by surprise, against printing their papers, pleading that it would disclose their secrets to their enemies. Townshend was absent, and the whole weight of the day fell on Conway, who extricated himself from so delicate a situation with the utmost ability. Allowing greatly, as was his nature, to candour, he called on the directors to point out particular papers that might be prejudicial to them, and which, he said, he should certainly be against printing. He disclaimed violence; but observed, as did others, that their papers told nothing more than was published every day in two occasional papers called The India Observer and The Examiner. Jones denying that the directors allowed the Duke of Grafton to lay their proposals before the House, and Grenville pleading that had he known that the other day, he would not have voted for the printing, Conway and Lord Granby both affirmed that the Duke had refused on any other condition to receive their proposal; and Jones, being pressed to answer why he had not contradicted their assertion on the last debate, had nothing to say but that they had never expressed in words allowance of exposing their paper, and that he had not ventured the other day to take on himself to make objections, but had stayed till he could consult his brethren. Grenville quoted the precedent of reversing the order for printing the American papers, and others; the danger of informing France and the Mogul of the state of the Company’s transactions: but it was showed how much more they must know, the first, by the publications of Scrafton334 and others of the Company, the latter by his situation. Rigby attacked the Ministers on their disunion, which was finely turned by Conway against him, the complaints of the Opposition having run till now on a sole dictator. Elliot distinguished himself on the same subject; and, after a debate till nine at night, the Ministers disappointed the intended surprisal, and maintained their order for printing the papers by a majority of 180 to 147.

When thus triumphant, in spite of his own absurdities, and of the variations of Charles Townshend, who now spoke of himself as turned out, and who only spoke so because he thought himself secure of not being turned out, it was evident what Lord Chatham might have done, had he known how to make the most of his situation. He might have given firmness and almost tranquillity to his country; might have gone farther towards recruiting our finances than any reasonable man could have expected; and, in indulgence of his own lofty visions, might have placed himself in—at least have restored Great Britain to, a situation of reassuming that credit which he and chance had given her some years before. But, alas! his talents were inadequate to the task. The multiplication-table did not admit of being treated in epic, and Lord Chatham had but that one style. Whether really out of his senses, or conscious how much the mountebank had concurred to form the great man, he plunged deeper and deeper into retreat, and left the nation a prey to faction, and to the insufficient persons that he had chosen for his coadjutors. Once, and but once, he saw the King after having refused a visit from Conway, though commissioned by his Majesty to talk with him on Russian negotiations. On the state of America he would hear him as little, and would give no answer but the same he had on East Indian affairs, that it would find its way through the House. Conway protested he would not conduct it there, unless some plan was previously settled, and he knew what he was to support. With Townshend Conway had little less difficulty; the former sometimes pressing him to resign, sometimes threatening to resign and leave him alone; and at others reproaching him for not undertaking his defence when he thought himself the most obliquely hinted at: for Townshend, though as prone to draw reflections on himself as Conway was sedulous not to deserve them, was equally tender and jealous of criticism.

Though the chief business of the session turned on the great affair of what was to be gotten from the Company, yet as what was gotten, was at least peaceably obtained without violence or any Parliamentary decision on their rights; and as I avow myself extremely unversed in those and all other transactions of money and revenue, I shall, as much as I can, avoid details on that subject, both in favour of my own ignorance, and to avoid misleading the reader; the spirit of the times, and the characters of the men who gave colour to events, being almost my sole objects in these Memoirs. The reader has seen, and will see, through what a labyrinth of faction, self-interest, and misconduct we were led into such a chaos of difficulties, as God knows whether I shall live to see surmounted;335 or whether I must not leave these pages a sad memorial of those errors whose consequences posterity may trace back to their several sources. If I pause a moment to make this reflection, it is because I think at this period Lord Chatham, by a wise and vigorous exertion of himself, might still have established some permanent system, with the support of the Crown and the Favourite, without too disgraceful dependence on the latter. I think so, because even the remnant of this system, when Lord Chatham was withdrawn, still maintained its superiority. That Lord Chatham might have done much more service nine months earlier, before his wanton defiance of the Rockingham party, and his other wild actions of passion and scorn, is past a doubt with me. It will appear at a period not much later, that had his successor and pupil not been endued with almost as great impracticability, and scarce less haughtiness, the distractions that followed had never happened. They indeed dated from a subsequent Parliament; but the seeds were sown in that complaisant and prostitute one of which I am speaking, and which yet, if well conducted, might have remedied many of the evils it had countenanced; but managed as it was, it left nothing but the dis-esteem it had raised to be copied by, and stigmatised in, the Parliament that succeeded.

On the 11th Dudley and Rouse, the chairman and deputy-chairman of the Company, appeared before the House, and declaring they thought that the printing of any of their papers, except the Charters and Firmans, might be prejudicial to their affairs, Conway candidly desired the House would retract the order for printing them, and it was agreed to: he having wished for a sight of all charters, Norton eagerly seized the proposal, Lord Mansfield—ever hostile to Lord Chatham—having discovered in one of the oldest charters that a power had been granted to the Company of making war, and the old Company had transferred all their rights to the new. Dempster, and the younger Burke, who had engaged deeply in India Stock, were the persons that gave the greatest opposition to the pursuits of the Ministers. Edmund Burke, too, assisted by the friendship of Lord Verney, trafficked in the same funds, and made a considerable fortune, most part of which he lost again afterwards by a new fluctuation in the same transactions,336 and which probably produced, as will be seen, another revolution in the factions of these times. Sullivan, a leading personage in Indian affairs, sought by various proposals to get the negotiation into his own hands, but those subordinate intrigues are foreign to my purpose.

Provision for the King’s Brothers.—Debate.—Death of the Marquis of Tavistock.—Of the Dauphiness.—The Indian Papers.—Intrigues of Grenville.—Regulation of America.—Temper in which the Americans received the Repeal.—New Project of using Force towards the Colonies.—Discussion in the House of Lords on the American Papers.—The East Indian Question.—Real or Affected Insanity of Lord Chatham.—Interview of the Author with the Lord Chancellor.—The Latter lets out a Secret which is turned to Advantage by Walpole.—Debate on an Act of the Assembly of Massachusets.—Attempted Reconciliation between Conway and Rockingham.

During these altercations, and while the time necessary for calling and holding courts of directors or proprietors delayed the prosecution of this matter, the King sent a message to both Houses, desiring them to make a provision for his brothers. The message was taken into consideration on the 19th, and in each House Lord Temple and Mr. Grenville objected to the establishment being entailed on the issue of the Princes. On the 24th, when it was to be voted, Mr. Grenville, without directly opposing, made a very able speech and observations on the settlement. It would be an additional expense, he said, of 24,000l. a year on the Civil List, and might have been saved from other articles. The charge of ambassadors might be reduced, who each cost the Crown 13,000l. the first year. He ridiculed Lord Chatham’s magnificent plans of naming ambassadors to various Courts, and despatching none of them. He had threatened to dissolve the Family-compact; yet Sir James Grey was not yet set out for Spain, nor Mr. Lyttelton337 for Portugal. Turn north, there were the same great plans, yet Mr. Stanley was not gone. Mr. George Pitt was alike absent from Turin; to those gentlemen he professed meaning nothing personal: the Chancellor of the Exchequer must pay them, and they were in the departments of the Secretaries of State, who, though in responsible places, he was sure were not to blame. The pensions on Ireland amounted to 88,000l. a year; the revenue of that country ought to be laid out to support the Royal Family, and Ireland would like it. Stanley, a very warm man, took this invective to himself, and showed how much he resented it. He complained that Grenville had given him no notice of the intended attack, and observed how delicate his own situation was in speaking, or not speaking, between private honour and the duty he owed to the King of secrecy. He did not care, he said, whether the attack was pointed at him, or to wound another through him; the employment he had not sought: in France he had served to his loss, and was ready to have his conduct inquired into. Had Lord Egremont (Grenville’s brother-in-law) gone, when he was named to the congress at Augsbourg? Foreign Ministers had no means of raising a fortune. Had he himself a son he would say to him, “Get into Parliament, make tiresome speeches; you will have great offers; do not accept them at first,—then do; then make great provision for yourself and family, and then call yourself an independent country gentleman.” For himself, he was ready to answer Mr. Grenville there or anywhere else. Severe as the picture was, Grenville had drawn it on himself, resenting Stanley’s having left him for Lord Chatham. Nor could Stanley be blamed for taking offence; he had been represented in a disgraceful light, while he had acted with singular honour, and yet was not at liberty to disculpate himself. The fact stood thus: Lord Chatham, as I have said, full of a grand northern alliance, had named Stanley Minister to both the Russian and Prussian Courts. The latter would not receive him: the Czarina did not like the proposed alliance, nor the expense of sending an ambassador in return: yet had she named Prince Czernicheff. Sir George Maccartney had desired leave to come home; and thus Stanley stood on the list as ambassador, in compliment to the nomination of an ambassador from St. Petersburg; yet, perceiving he was not to go, he had honourably refused to take the appointments; a state secret he could not disclose, as it would be telling the Russian Court that there was no longer an intention of sending him. Dowdeswell spoke in favour of the Princes, as he was to have made the same motion the foregoing spring. Sir Roger Newdigate, in a dull metaphorical speech, abused the Administration, and complimented Grenville. Charles Townshend turned him into the highest ridicule, analysing his metaphors, and reducing them and the whole speech, as it deserved, to nonsense. Newdigate replied, and with the obstinacy of dulness professed he had never admired any Administration but Grenville’s. Townshend enforced what he had said with new ridicule: the settlement was granted, and the King saved 9000l. a year.

A melancholy event relaxed a little the assiduity of the Opposition. The Marquis of Tavistock,338 only son of the Duke of Bedford, was thrown from his horse as he was hunting, and received a kick that fractured his skull. He languished about a fortnight, and died at the age of twenty-seven. If there was a perfectly amiable and unblemished character in an age so full of censure, and so much deserving it, the universal esteem in which the virtues of that young Lord were held, seemed to allow that he was the person. His gentleness, generosity, and strict integrity made all the world love or admire him. Full of spirit and martial ardour, which he suppressed in deference to a father to whom his life was so important, he had the genuine bashfulness of youth, and the humility of the lowest fortune. His large fortune he shared with his cotemporary friends, assisting them in purchasing commissions. Yet he had taste for those arts whose excellence and splendour became the House of so great an heir, and indulged himself in them when they did not interfere with his more favourite liberality. His parts were neither shining nor contemptible; and his virtue assisted his understanding in preserving both from being biassed or seduced. To observers, it was clear that he much disapproved the want of principle in the relations and dependants339 of his parents; yet so respectful was his duty to his father, and so attentive his tenderness to his mother, and so artfully had she impressed it, that Lord Tavistock’s repugnance to their connections and politics was only observable by his shunning Parliament, and by withdrawing himself from their society to hunting and country sports. He was not less exemplary as a husband than as a son, and his widow, who doated on so excellent a young man, survived him but two years.340 The indecent indifference with which such a catastrophe was felt by the faction of the family, spoke but too plainly that Lord Tavistock had lived a reproach and terror to them. The Duke, his father, for a few days almost lost his senses—and recovered them too soon. The Duchess was less blameable, and retained the impression longer; but while all mankind who ever heard the name of Lord Tavistock were profuse in lamenting such a national calamity, it gave universal scandal when, in a little fortnight after his death, they beheld his father, the Duke, carried by his creatures to the India House to vote on a factious question. This unexampled insensibility was bitterly pressed home on the Duke two years afterwards in a public libel. Yet surely, it was savage wantonness to taunt a parent with such a misfortune; and of flint must the heart have been that could think such a domestic stroke a proper subject for insult, however inadequate to the world the anguish appeared: how steeled the nature that could wish to recall the feelings of a father on such a misfortune. In Borgia’s age they stabbed with daggers; in ours with the pen!341

About the same time died the widow Dauphiness, a pious but unamiable Princess, and only remarkable for the various fortune that attended her. Daughter of Augustus of Poland, she was married into the same Court, where the daughter of her father’s rival, Stanislaus, was Queen. Received and treated with affection by that Princess, and possessing all the tenderness of her husband, her fruitfulness seemed to ensure her felicity; when, though seated on the step of the most formidable throne in Europe, she beheld her father again driven into exile, and her mother dying in the midst of that calamity. Her family were scarce restored when the Dauphin perished before her eyes of a lingering illness; and she outlived him too short a time to be secure that the youth of her children would not expose them to the dangers that attend a minority.

The disputes in the East India Company, which grew out of their great cause before the Parliament, produced an attack on Lord Clive, his enemies attempting to seize the Jaghire that had been granted to him by the Mogul; and it was but by a majority of about 30 voices that he saved that immense revenue on a ballot, 361 voting for the continuation of it for ten years, and 330 against it.

Towards the end of March the House began reading the East Indian papers that had been laid before them; each day of which produced much general debate, especially as witnesses were examined. The Attorney-General De Grey and Dyson shone on these occasions, and showed how much the question was a matter of state, and that the King’s Bench could have no judicature over the East Indies. Governor Vansittart342 was examined for four hours, and gave much satisfaction: his evidence tended to strengthen the right of the Crown, and brought over many persons to that side. Colonel Monroe spoke strongly in his deposition to the same effect.

In the mean time the faction of Grenville and the Bedfords, humbled by the death of Lord Tavistock, and by the ground gained against them on the India question, began to cast about for real union with the Rockinghams. The latter, on the first overtures, and without any positive assurance of that union, sought to draw Mr. Conway into the league, affirming that Grenville, as they had lightly been made to believe, would be content with some inferior post, and would waive his hopes of being Minister. Conway, however, discontented with Lord Chatham, and fearful of offending his old friends, did not listen to a plan so improbable in its construction, and so dishonourable in its tendency. Grenville could only mean to get to Court with the view of undermining his associates when he should be there: and such a treaty would be unpardonable in Conway, while acting in the King’s service. He would not allow himself to think of the Treasury, which he knew Lord Rockingham would never cede to him; and yet on talking over the proposed arrangement with him, he said sensibly, and not unambitiously, “If I should join them, I would insist on Grenville going into the House of Lords.” He was not without fears of Grenville and Rockingham uniting and leaving him with Lord Chatham and Lord Bute. I was not so easily alarmed, though the Duke of Richmond endeavoured to persuade me that the junction would certainly take place, and that Conway would not even recover his regiment. I saw no danger comparable to that of his resigning, and consequently of dissolving the Administration; and very little to apprehend from the union of two men whom so many reasons divided, and whom the predominant one of both aiming at the first place must for ever keep asunder. So it happened then. Neither would yield a post which neither saw a prospect of attaining by his own strength. Grenville at last proposed that both should desist, and should agree in the nomination of a third person. This, no doubt, he intended should be his own brother, Temple, who might afterwards resign to him. But the least proper was the most obstinate, and the treaty came to nothing. I put the Duke of Richmond in mind of what Lord Gower had said the last year, and asked him if he thought it likely that the Bedfords would enlist under a man who was so much their contempt? Lord Sandwich having abused Lord Rockingham in the House of Lords, Lord Gower said to him, “Sandwich, how could you worry the poor dumb creature so!”

A question of more importance than the Indian one was now to come on the carpet—the Regulation of America. The repeal of the Stamp Act, however necessary and salutary, had, as Grenville and his adherents foretold, instead of pacifying that continent, inspired the turbulent with presumption. With whatever joy the repeal had been received, it was not followed by that general gratitude to the Ministers who obtained it, which they deserved. Great Britain having yielded, the tribunes of America flattered themselves that new concessions might be extorted: so certain is the march of successful patriotism towards acquisition. Still the disturbances were not alarming nor universal: and if, instead of tampering with a wound not closed, emollients, restoratives, at least oblivion, and no farther essays at taxes had succeeded, harmony perhaps had again taken place. A Ministry composed of heterogeneous particles, some inclination to show authority after mildness, an eagerness to replace the loss on the land-tax, and, above all, the inconsiderate vanity of Charles Townshend, and not a small propensity in him to pay court to Grenville, all concurred to prompt rash and indigested measures; while a Parliament, so obsequious as that of the moment, was ready to enact every successive contradiction that was proposed to it by the Court, and eased Ministers of the trouble of weighing the plans they intended to pursue. Nay, the circumstances of the time recommended violence as the least obnoxious measure; Grenville being sure to give less obstruction to any intemperance which resembled his own, and secretly enjoying any indiscretion that would involve his successors in the same difficulties as those he had occasioned himself.

The first plan on which the Ministers fixed was that of force and punishment. They proposed to oblige the Provinces to furnish beer and vinegar to the soldiers; and if they refused, the governor of New York was to be prohibited from giving the royal assent for holding their assemblies. This step would, in effect, have been a dissolution of their government, and not less violent than the seizure of charters by Charles II. When the scheme was laid before the Cabinet, Conway, who adhered to the conciliating measures of the last year, and to his own mild maxims, alone opposed so arbitrary a project. When,

On the 30th of the month, the American papers which had been laid before the Houses, were taken into consideration by the Lords. The Chancellor opened the nature of them, and hinting at the disobedience of the Colonies, said, if his own sentiments should not be so lenient as formerly, it was because he had formed them anew on the Act passed in the last session. Lord Weymouth observed to him, sensibly, that last year’s had not been an Act but a Declaration. Lord Temple was more acrimonious, his language gross, telling the Chancellor that his former opinion of Parliament having no right to tax the Colonies, had been treasonable. The Duke of Grafton defended the Chancellor with great propriety, and asked why Lord Temple had not called him, if guilty of treason, to the bar? He reproached Temple, too, with blackening a most respectable character (Lord Chatham’s), from revenge. The present question, he said, was too serious for faction; but if places were the objects of opposition, and if his would reconcile Lord Temple, it was at his service. These bickerings were all that passed then. Lord Denbigh called on the Opposition to propose some plan for restoring the tranquillity and submission of America; but neither party were eager to stir in it: the Ministers were afraid, the Opposition apprehended disunion amongst themselves,—so different were the sentiments of Grenville and Rockingham on that subject.

When the settlement on the Princes passed the House of Lords, Lord Temple behaved with his usual violence. Great and deserved reflections were thrown on Lord Northington for his scandalous extortion of emoluments on the late change. Lord Temple then caused the House to be summoned without acquainting them to what purpose.

The same day, his brother and the Opposition debated in the Commons against delay on the East Indian affair till eight in the evening, and then divided the House for calling in witnesses. Many of the courtiers had gone away, and the motion was rejected but by 96 to 82! Sir W. Meredith then declared, that if Beckford did not by that day sevennight ascertain the House when he would bring on his questions, he would move to dissolve the Committee. Such inconsistent conduct in the Opposition was occasioned by its having appeared on the examination, that the Crown would be justifiable in seizing the acquisitions of the Company, so crying were the abuses, and so little was the Company itself master of its own servants. Easter, too, was now approaching, and the Opposition feared not being able to rally their forces after the holidays. Grenville, apprehending from so many concurrent circumstances favourable to Lord Chatham, that he would be able to acquire a large revenue to the Crown, laboured to instil fears of such intended force; saying, the East Indian business had begun in folly, and would end in violence.

Lord Chatham himself either was not, or would not be, in a condition to strike any great stroke. Though he still continued to take the air publicly, his spirits and nerves were said to be in the lowest and most shattered condition. Added to the phrenzy of his conduct, a new circumstance raised general suspicion of there being more of madness in his case, than mere caprice and impracticable haughtiness: he had put himself into the hands of Dr. Addington—a regular physician, it is true, but originally a mad doctor, innovating enough in his practice to be justly deemed a quack. The physician, it was supposed, was selected as proper to the disease; whereas, if all was not a farce, I should think that the physician rather caused the disease, Addington having kept off the gout, and possibly dispersed it through his nerves, or even driven it up to his head. So long did Lord Chatham remain without a fit of the gout, and so childish and agitated was his whole frame, if a word of business was mentioned to him, tears and trembling immediately succeeded to cheerful, indifferent conversation. Some passages, too, which I shall specify hereafter, indicated a fond kind of dotage; yet do I very much doubt whether the whole scene was not imposition, and the dictates of disappointment, inability, and pride, rather than the fruits of a brain extraordinarily distempered. A slave to his passions, a master dissembler, and no profound statesman, his conduct was more likely to be extravagant by design than from the loss of his senses. As he reappeared in the world, and yet governed his domestic affairs with the same wild wantonness and prodigality, it is probable that there was not more folly in his secession from business, than could be accounted for in so eccentric a composition. If it was nothing but singularity and passion, Lord Chatham was certainly the first man who ever retired from business into the post of Prime Minister.

As I suspected that much of this ill-humour was founded on his disappointment in Mr. Conway, who would not receive orders from behind the veil of the sanctum sanctorum, and as I had heard that the Chancellor complained much of the latter, I desired to wait on Lord Camden, in order if possible to restore some harmony in the Administration. Having appointed me an hour, I offered all that depended on me towards reconciling my friend and Lord Chatham. The Chancellor by no means aided my good disposition. He complained much of Mr. Conway’s niceties, difficulties, and impracticability. In truth Mr. Conway allowed too much to his scruples, and the Chancellor on the other hand was a little too alert in relaxing his former principles; the one leaning towards power, the other to popularity: yet I think even the Chancellor was too much addicted to the latter, to have risked it by any signal servility.343 He was generally firm, when pushed by the roughness of the times. A moderate degree of attention to his fortune stole into his conduct, when it did not too much clash with his professions or connections. He told me that Lord Chatham was very willing to replace Mr. Conway in the army; and being but a novice in politics, he let drop indiscreetly, that if the Ministers could weather the session, there must be a totally new Administration; adding, that Mr. Conway’s behaviour on the East Indian affair had been a stab to Lord Chatham, and had reduced him to lean on Lord Bute.

Though I did not know whether this imprudent declaration implied an intention of co-operating entirely with Bute, or might not look towards Grenville, yet I saw plainly that there was an intention of getting rid of Mr. Conway. I took no notice either to the Chancellor or to Mr. Conway of what I had discovered, lest the latter should resign immediately; but I instantly determined to keep Conway steady to his last year’s point of moderation towards America. It would preserve his connection with his old friends, who would be necessary to him, if Lord Chatham broke with him; and it was essential to him to maintain his character. Accordingly I softened extremely towards the Rockingham party, and talked to them of the necessity of Mr. Conway and their agreeing, as they had done when in Administration together, to oppose any violence against the Americans. This plan succeeded extraordinarily, and blasted all thoughts of union between Grenville and Rockingham, the former of whom had endeavoured to persuade the latter to content himself with a dukedom and the lieutenancy of Ireland. Nor was this all the success that attended the secret the Chancellor had blabbed to me. It occasioned such a breach in and discomfiture of the Opposition, as carried the Administration through the session with triumph. So often did chance throw occasions in my way, which no policy of mine could have super-induced, and which, if I preferred vanity to truth, I might represent as the effects of profound craft and foresight.

On the 10th of April, in consequence of Lord Temple’s summons, the Duke of Bedford moved to address the King to order the Privy Council to take into their consideration a recent Act of the Assembly of the Massachusets, in which they had taken on themselves to pardon the late insurrections, and to couple with that Act an ordinance for raising of money. Lord Northington affirmed, that the consideration of those Acts was still before the Board of Trade; on which the Duke of Grafton moved the previous question. In reply to a reproach made by the Duke of Bedford on the delays and inactivity of Administration, Grafton decently hinted, and it was fresh in everybody’s memory, how handsomely he had put off the American question on Lord Tavistock’s accident. Lord Halifax rudely and inconsiderately censured Conway for not having transmitted the orders of their Lordships to the Colonies. In fact, the orders had not been sent to Conway; and Halifax, the accuser, had, when Secretary of State himself, neglected orders committed to him by the King in Council. The Duke of Richmond warmly took up Conway’s defence, and led the way to a separation from the other part of the Opposition. Lord Talbot gave up all the Ministers but the Duke of Grafton. Lord Mansfield spoke finely for the motion; the Chancellor well, for acting with spirit against the Colonies; but said it would require great prudence to conduct that spirit. Lord Suffolk and Lord Lyttelton supported the motion. Lord Shelburne and Lord Botetort were against it, and Lord Townshend for it. It was rejected by the previous question, on a majority of 63 to 36. The Duke of Richmond, Lord Rockingham, Lord Dartmouth, Lord Monson, Lord Radnor, and Lord Edgcumbe voting with the Court; the Duke of Newcastle, who leaned to the Bedfords, Lord Albemarle, and others of the party, retiring. Lord Hardwicke voted with the minority.344

On this schism, I again pressed Conway to join the Rockinghams on the American question, and hinted my suspicion, not my knowledge, that Lord Chatham might think of dismissing him at the end of the session. Conway was enough disposed to that union; said he could not negotiate himself, but consented that I should sound the Duke of Richmond, and wished their faction would not insist on that unattainable point, the total dismission of Lord Bute’s friends. I found the Duke much incensed against Lord Temple for not having communicated to them the late motion, and provoked that Rigby, who had negotiated with them on Grenville’s part, and at first had waived the Treasury for him, had at last insisted on it. I pressed his Grace to try by his cousin Albemarle’s means to gain the Bedfords separately from Grenville. Conway wished that junction and separation. I did not at all think it practicable; but I hoped that the proposal, coming from the Rockinghams, would exasperate Grenville and widen the breach between them. The Duke approved and was eager for that alliance, but demanded that Conway should resign first, as many of their friends were averse to him while he acted with Lord Chatham. I advised him to try it himself with Conway, though I told him I would not answer for the success: but I would not undertake what I intended to impede; expecting that Lord Chatham would not be able to continue in power, and that then it must devolve on Conway: and choosing that the Rockinghams should accede to him, not he go over to them. Neither happened. I did not accomplish the junction; but I both kept Conway from resigning, and the Rockinghams from uniting with Grenville and the Bedfords.

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

LONDON:
Printed by S. & J. Bentley, Wilson, and Fley,
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.