General Observations.--Attempt to procure an Earldom for Lord
Holland.--Reconstruction of the Administration.--Death of
Charles Townshend.--Of the Comte de Guerchy.--Of the Duke of
York.--Characters of the Royal Dukes.--French Travellers in England
and Ireland.--Genius of Conway.--Conduct of Lord Townshend in
Ireland.--Meeting of Parliament.--Debates on the Address.--Fresh
Negotiations with the Bedford Party.
1767.
Nothing now remained but to resettle the Administration as we could on
its old bottom, no new forces being to be had. But I must make a few
observations.
In all my experience of the King or knowledge of his measures, he never
interfered with his Ministers, scarce took any part in his own business
(I speak of the past years of his reign), unless when he was to undo
an Administration. Whether hating or liking the persons he employed,
the moment he took them, he seemed to resign himself entirely to their
conduct for the time. If what they proposed was very disagreeable
to him, at most he avoided it by delay. How far he had entered into
his mother’s and Lord Bute’s plans while they were all-powerful
at the beginning of his reign, cannot be known. Afterwards he had,
undoubtedly, confidence in none of his Ministers; which according with
his extreme indolence and indifference to all men, his Ministers found
little obstruction to their views from the closet, till the greater
indolence of the Duke of Grafton and Lord North taught his Majesty to
act on his own judgment, assisted by the secret junto of the creatures
of Lord Bute. The sensible disgrace that fell on the Crown from so
frequent a change of Ministries, had, at last, alarmed the King, and
made a lasting impression. And yet the ruling principle of the reign,
which had been, by breaking and dividing all parties, to draw attention
and dependence only to the King himself, had succeeded so happily, that
even these storms tended to strengthen the unbounded influence at which
the King aspired, and which he pursued invariably on every returning
calm. The ductility and congenial indolence of the Duke of Grafton,
accompanied with much respect and good breeding, fixed his Majesty in
preferring him to all the men whom he _could_ employ: and though the
Duke not long afterwards fell into a connection of very ill-odour at
Court, _yet_ the tedious tyranny of Grenville, and the inveteracy of
Rockingham to Bute, were so much more dreaded, that Grafton did not
cease to be almost a favourite; with the additional comfort to the
King, that if forced to sacrifice him, it would be the loss of an
useful tool, rather than of a Minister for whom he had any fondness.
Another observation is, that during the whole preceding negotiation the
names of Lord Chatham and Charles Townshend were scarce mentioned, so
insignificant had both rendered themselves to the nation and to every
faction in it.
I cannot help reflecting, too, that had the Duke of Cumberland or
the Duke of Devonshire lived, men in the prime of their age, many of
the follies I have been recounting had probably been avoided. The
excellent sense of the former would have kept Lord Rockingham and the
Cavendishes within bounds; and the deference of his Royal Highness
for the Crown would have restrained them from the excesses into which
they fell against the King, the Princess, and the Favourite; for
though nobody had less partiality to the two latter, he would not have
encouraged a useless inveteracy, when himself would have enjoyed so
much credit in the Government. The Duke of Devonshire, though inferior
in parts even to Lord Rockingham, must have had the precedence of him
in Administration; and being diffident, timid, decent, and fond of
court, no man would have been more alarmed at the violent and obnoxious
counsels of his brother John. The latter would undoubtedly have enjoyed
much credit with the Duke; but as men govern others by humouring
their tempers, not by driving them into contrary extremes, I question
whether Devonshire would not oftener have checked than have been
impelled by Lord John’s visions. As either the Prince or the Duke would
probably have prevented many scenes that I have related, so both, I am
persuaded, would have obstructed and discountenanced the frenzy into
which their friends were hurried in the subsequent Parliament.
The share I had had in these transactions could not be totally a
secret, especially to those who looked narrowly into or had connections
with the Court; yet it did surprise me, I own, when the first person
I beheld at my feet was Lord Holland. He sent for me, and weakly
pretending that it was to gratify his wife, of all women the most
indifferent to grandeur, he supplicated me in the most flattering terms
to obtain him an earldom from the Duke of Grafton. In a long intimacy,
and during every period of his power, he had barely once, and that when
he foresaw I should not accept it,[33] offered me a faint attempt to
serve me conditionally. I had the strongest presumption for believing
that he had afterwards essentially injured me for declining to assist
his bad measures. I was not at all sorry to have this opportunity of
repaying both debts by forgiving both, and by endeavouring to obtain
what he desired. The King had declined his request, pleading the
state of his affairs. I told Lord Holland I would use all my interest
with the Duke of Grafton to oblige him, but that I was not so vain as
to think I could obtain the earldom for him, if his own importance
could not. I did earnestly labour it, and really believe the Duke of
Grafton did too, as he promised me he would: but the King could not be
persuaded to grant it: I know not why. Lord Holland had well earned
it. He read to me at the same time a long letter from Lord Bute, dated
September 1st, 1766, in which in the strongest terms the Favourite
disclaimed having been made acquainted with the last promotion of Lord
Chatham, and the restoration of his own brother Mackenzie; adding that
a _great lady_, to whom he (the Earl) often paid his court, had been
as ignorant and incredulous of those steps as himself; and protesting
that himself had not seen the King since the preceding July. I knew
not how to give entire credit to this epistle: however, as it owned
the continuation of his visits to the Princess, it imported little
what embargo it was thought prudent to lay on his actual commerce with
the King, nor by what channels the intercourse was kept up. The credit
which Mackenzie soon gained with the Duke of Grafton spoke the duration
of favour: and as no symptoms appeared of the Queen having acquired
any political ascendant over her husband, the old connections probably
subsisted still, though the clamours of the times inspired great
caution in conducting them.[34]
On the 28th Lord Hertford, Mr. Conway, and I supped with the Duke of
Grafton, when he and Conway were to take their final resolutions,
and to fix their future Administration. Conway appeared by far the
more determined; yet both agreed to go on, though the Duke laid in
a specious salvo, that it should only be till Lord Chatham should
recover. From that moment there was no further question of him. Conway,
who desired his own liberty, willingly subscribed to that condition.
The list was next to be adjusted. I proposed the Duke of Northumberland
should be President of the Council, as an indication that the King
intended this Administration should last. Both the Duke and Conway
objected as savouring too much of Bute; for, however Rigby had charged
Conway with being subservient to the Favourite, no man living was
less propense to him, nor had less connection with him. I myself,
who wished the Administration should have his support, had never been
within his doors after he had been First Lord of the Treasury; and when
I wished he should traverse any counsels of any faction, I was reduced
to drop notices accidentally to such of his friends as I happened to
have a common acquaintance with. Even Lord Hertford, though connected
with him by his son’s marriage,[35] had not the slightest intercourse
with him--not from disinclination, but from the shy, uncommunicative,
and now timid disposition of that unpopular man. A greater difficulty
presented itself,--the Chancellor[36] of Ireland was dying. Lord
Chatham, wishing to gain the support of Norton, had wanted to purchase
and appoint the latter to succeed to those Seals. Conway had already
strongly objected to Norton on the flagrancy of his character, and
renewed his opposition now, fearing abuse from the Rockinghams. I
said, When _they_ had adopted even Sandwich, could they reproach him
with taking Norton? If Norton was not for the Ministers, he would be
against them, and was too able to let it be indifferent on which side
he acted. I proposed the Duke should take the deed on himself. Conway
finding the Duke would not go on, unless this was done, gave it up. We
then sketched out other arrangements; and it was settled that Conway
should be either Cabinet-Counsellor and Lieutenant-General of the
Ordnance, or third Secretary of State for America.
The Lieutenancy of the Ordnance was pitched upon, as Lord Townshend,
to please his brother Charles, was destined to be Viceroy of Ireland
in the room of Lord Bristol. The last, whose stately manners and
delicate form were ill-adapted to please so rude and turbulent a
people as the Irish, and who was now deprived of the support of his
patron, Lord Chatham, had been alarmed at the rough reception that he
heard was preparing for him; and fearing he should be turned out if
Lord Rockingham or Grenville became Minister, had declared he would
resign his government. He now wrote to the Duke of Grafton, that if
his Majesty still laid his commands on him, he would go and take
possession, but should not be sorry to be excused. He was taken at his
word, and Lord Townshend appointed his successor. The latter yielded
the Ordnance handsomely to Conway, who was obliged to retain his old
Seals, it having been observed that a third Secretary of State being
a new office could not sit in the House of Commons. The Duke of
Grafton persisted in not dismissing Lord Northington, being desirous of
keeping some post in his power that could facilitate his introducing
the Bedfords. Thus no room was left for Lord Egmont or Lord Edgecumbe,
with whom we were all willing to strengthen the Administration. Its
recovering its permanency at all was a signal disappointment to
Grenville and Rockingham, who had flattered themselves that Grafton and
Conway could not be induced to go on, and who had certainly quarrelled
upon the presumption that either the one or the other must succeed.
Conway was indeed most averse to accept the Ordnance and retain the
Seals, and wished heartily to give up the latter; and when compelled to
keep both, would not accept the very lucrative emoluments of Secretary,
as I had suggested: but of that hereafter.
Having thus contributed once more to a settlement agreeable to my
wishes, fatigued with so long anxiety and suspense, torn from all
the amusements I loved, and detesting details after my point was
accomplished, nor more inclined than formerly to profit of the
consideration I had acquired, I once more broke from politics, and set
out for Paris, where I staid six weeks. In that little interval an
unexpected event happened, which both shook and prevented a shock to
the Administration.
On the 4th of September died Charles Townshend, of a neglected fever,
in, I think, the forty-second year of his age. He met his approaching
fate with a good humour that never forsook him, and with an equanimity
that he had never shown on the most trifling occasions. Though cut
off so immaturely, it is a question whether he had not lived long
enough for his character. His genius could have received no accession
of brightness; his faults only promised multiplication. He had almost
every great talent, and every little quality. His vanity exceeded even
his abilities, and his suspicions seemed to make him doubt whether he
had any. With such a capacity he must have been the greatest man of
this age, and perhaps inferior to no man in any age, had his faults
been only in a moderate proportion--in short, if he had had but common
truth, common sincerity, common honesty, common modesty, common
steadiness, common courage, and common sense.[37]
A month before he died, he told Rigby he would resign, and would never
rest till he brought him and his friends into place; and asked how he
should do it. On the very day his wife kissed hands for a barony,[38]
Townshend had threatened Conway to resign unless the peerage was
granted. The very next day he told Conway that the peerage had been
offered by the King. As soon as he was dead, Lord Mansfield owned
that Townshend had assured him he would blow up the newly resettled
Administration. His brother, the Viscount, who shared nothing with him
but his duplicity, repaired to Rigby and desired to be directed by him
in his Irish Administration, Rigby having much weight there through his
friend the Provost.[39]
On the 17th of the same month died at Paris, the Comte de Guerchy,
their Ambassador to England. His death was occasioned by a former
ill-cured complaint, but hastened by the various mortifications he
had received from D’Eon, and the recent neglect and ill-usage of
his own Court. He had been a lover of the Duchesse de Grammont, the
Prime Minister’s sister, who, aspiring at rank, had fixed on the
Duc de Grammont as a man suited to her purposes. It was said that
having consulted Monsieur de Guerchy, he, without considering that
her resolution was probably taken, inveighed with too much sincerity
against the choice of so contemptible a man, and was never forgiven.
Certain it is that, his embassy being finished, he found nothing but
coldness at home, and no hopes of reward or recompense for his services
or mortifications. This cruelty being censured, pensions were granted
to his widow and son.
On the very same day departed, at Monaco, Edward Duke of York,
next brother of the King. His immoderate pursuit of pleasure and
unremitted fatigues in travelling beyond his strength, succeeded
without interruption by balls and entertainments, had thrown his
blood, naturally distempered and full of humours, into a state that
brought on a putrid and irresistible fever. He suffered considerably,
but with a heroism becoming a great Prince. Before he died, he wrote
a penitential letter to the King (though, in truth, he had no faults
but what his youth made very pardonable), and tenderly recommended
his servants to him. The Prince of Monaco, though his favourite child
was then under inoculation at Paris, remained with and waited on him
to his last breath, omitting nothing that tenderness could supply or
his royal birth demand. The Duke of York had lately passed some time
in the French Court, and by the quickness of his replies, by his easy
frankness, and (in him) unusual propriety of conduct, had won much on
the affection of the King of France, and on the rest of the Court,
though his loose and perpetually rolling eyes, his short sight, and
the singular whiteness of his hair, which the French said resembled
feathers, by no means bespoke prejudice in his favour. His temper
was good, his generosity royal, and his parts not defective: but his
inarticulate loquacity and the levity of his conduct, unsupported by
any countenance from the King, his brother, had conspired to place him
but low in the estimation of his countrymen. As he could obtain no
credit from the King’s unfeeling nature, he was in a situation to do
little good; as he had been gained by the Opposition, he might have
done hurt--at least so much to the King that his death was little
lamented. Nor can we judge whether more years and experience would have
corrected his understanding or corrupted his heart, nor whether, which
is most probable, they would not have done both.[40]
The Duke of Gloucester, of as fair complexion, as short sighted,
of worse health, but of a more manly form, was a Prince of a very
different disposition. Reserved, serious, pious, of the most decent
and sober deportment, and possessing a plain understanding, though of
no brilliancy, he was of all his family the King’s favourite, though
admitted to no confidence, intimacy, or credit. An honourable amour
which totally engrossed him, and of which I shall have occasion to
speak hereafter, preserved him from the irregularities into which his
brothers Edward and Henry fell, and which the severity of confinement
in which they were held by their mother until they attained the age of
twenty-one, did much excuse.
Henry Duke of Cumberland, though not tall, did not want beauty, but
with the babbling disposition of his brother York, he had neither
the parts nor the condescension of the latter; familiarizing himself
with bad company, and yet presuming on a rank which he degraded, and,
notwithstanding, made an annoyance. His youth had all its faults, and
gave no better promises.
In the room of Charles Townshend, Lord North, son of the Earl of
Guilford, was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer. He had sound
parts, wit, and, it was thought, industry; an ungracious manner, a
voice untuneable, and a total want of polish in his behaviour. He had
been an active and ready agent in the whole cause against Wilkes, and
was not a man that the friends of the Constitution could regard with
partiality: but there were so few upright, that it was become almost
eligible to select the exceptionable, in order to lessen confederacies
amongst those whose union would be formidable should they return to
power in a body. Lord North’s (supposed) application and facility of
access repaired in some degree the negligence and disgusting coldness
of the Duke of Grafton.[41]
At my return from France, where I had perceived how much it behoved
us to be on our guard against the designed hostilities of that Court,
as soon as their finances should enable them to renew the war, I
laboured to infuse attention to our situation. We not only had little
intelligence, but scarce suspicion. Our safety rested alone upon our
fleet. No care was observed in watching the intercourse between the two
kingdoms. The French, under pretence of curiosity, grown fashionable
amongst them for the first time, resorted hither in considerable
numbers. They visited the counties; and, under colour of studying
commerce and manufactures, familiarized themselves with our weakness.
Except Portsmouth and Plymouth, we had not a fortification in South
Britain that could afford us time to recover from the panic of the
first successful invasion. A few of the new travellers even visited
Ireland--no subject of curiosity, if political reasons were out of the
question. It was there, I did not doubt, but the first storm would
burst. In vain I painted over and over this our defenceless situation;
I could raise no attention, or at most was told we were not in a
condition to do anything great. Methought it was just the position in
which a great man would have attempted to exert genius--it was more
true that we had no great man.
We had small bickerings with both France and Spain; but as we made no
hurry to amend our circumstances, they took the leisure we afforded
to recruit theirs. In the mean time the busy ambition of the Duc
de Choiseul was preparing from a distance a general conflagration.
France having refused the title of Imperial Majesty to the Czarina,
her Ambassador, Prince Gallitzin, received orders to quit Paris in a
fortnight. As she intermeddled in the affairs of Poland (which come not
within my plan), the Duc de Choiseul intrigued at Constantinople till
he poured an army of Turks into Russia; but that scene was not yet
opened. Portugal and Spain quarrelling about some American possessions,
the former seized Rio Grande. This was thought a desperate act of
Ocyras to involve us in their protection; or, if we abandoned them,
as an excuse for leaning towards the family compact. His subsequent
conduct was so little favourable to our trade, that the conjecture
seemed not unfounded.[42]
Mr. Conway grew impatient to give up the profits of the Seals. The
Duke of Grafton and Lord Hertford disapproved it; but I drew them into
consent by asking them, before him, whether, if he got a regiment, he
would keep the salary of Secretary of State, of the Ordnance, and of
Colonel, at once? He said, Certainly not; nor could they encourage
him to keep all three. On this it was agreed he should immediately
sacrifice the income of his place: he did; generously begging the King
to bestow five hundred pounds out of it on the clerks of the office,
which was granted. Such noble disinterestedness shut the mouths of
Opposition, but did not open any in commendation,--an indication,
that, however corruption was censured in this age, it was envy, not
disapprobation of the practice, that raised clamour.
Lord Townshend, the new Lord-Lieutenant, was favourably received
in Ireland. He carried with him the consent of the King that the
Judges there should hold their places, as in England, _quamdiu se
bene gesserint_. Impatient to acquire popularity, he notified this
grace in his speech to that Parliament, though he had been positively
instructed not to mention it in that place, only to promise it in
private. Lord Mansfield and the lawyers here censured this conduct
warmly, as a direct breach of Poyning’s law. The Chancellor being dead,
and no successor appointed, (for Sewell[43] the Master of the Rolls
refused it, nor would any great lawyer here accept the post without
an additional pension, which Conway and others opposed,) the Irish
Speaker, Lord Shannon,[44] and Tisdall[45] the Attorney-General, who
aspired to that great seal, all acquainted Lord Townshend that there
would be a motion of complaint that no Chancellor was appointed. Lord
Townshend represented the indecency of such a step, and exciting the
King’s servants to oppose it, the others promised to stop what they
had secretly instigated. The alarm, however, caused the Government
at home to send over for Chancellor Judge Hewet, an able lawyer, but
much despised for his deficiency of parliamentary talents. Trifling
as this first success was, it was the greatest service which the
Lord-Lieutenant rendered to the Government. Obstinate against advice,
thirsting for low popularity, and void even of decorum, he soon lost
all consideration. Drunkenness and buffoonery, unsupported by parts
or policy, rendered him the scorn even of the populace. That he might
exempt himself from the reproach of whatever in his instructions was
disagreeable to the Irish, he spoke of himself as entrusted with no
power; and giving a loose to his own turn for caricature, he drew
ridiculous pictures of himself in ignominious attitudes with his hands
tied behind him; thus shunning opposition by meriting contempt.[46]
At home there appeared no symptoms of dissatisfaction among the people.
The patrons of general warrants were still the only obnoxious persons.
The Court, profiting of that disposition, exerted a little authority,
the King dismissing the Earls of Buckingham[47] and Eglinton, who were
devoted to the Grenvilles, from his bedchamber. They were succeeded by
the Duke of Roxburgh[48] and Lord Bottetort.
On the 24th of November the Parliament met. The Duke of Bedford and
Lord Lyttelton talked much against the Ministers and the outrages of
the Americans. In the other House Dowdeswell observed that the King
in his speech the last session had mentioned the encouragement of
commerce, but took no notice now of having given any. He proposed
to add to the address words that should give that encouragement. He
asked, too, if the Ministers had any plan for lowering provisions, the
dearness of which were become a capital grievance. Conway answered,
No: he could not find that any man could point out such a method of
reduction. The Manilla ransom having been mentioned, he wished, as the
affair was pending, the House would not meddle with it. He had already,
he said, received favourable answers on that subject. Himself was now
accused of neglecting that business; formerly he had heard a minister
(Grenville) pleading _for_ Spain against the captors. Burke spoke with
great and deserved applause, chiefly on the dearness of provisions;
to remedy which, he said, if Ministers could form no plan, it would
teach the people to undervalue Parliament.[49] He dwelt, too, on the
discontents of the _nobility_--a new topic in a popular assembly!
Wedderburn spoke well, too, and with greater acrimony. Conway, he
said, when in Opposition, had been one of the loudest to censure
the neglect of recovering the Manilla ransom, now had done nothing
in it. Had been violent on being turned out; now Lord Buckingham
and Lord Eglinton, very respectable men, had been dismissed. This
philippic was coldly received, and the amendment rejected without
a division. Grenville then, to mark that he had not and would not
support Dowdeswell’s motion, rose with affected coolness, but betraying
how much he was hurt. He had declared, he said, in the summer, that
he desired no place; his friends knew he desired none. The King, he
thought, had better keep the present Ministry than change so often.
That the whole state of our affairs was not laid before Parliament:
himself had in his pocket a _Boston Gazette_ inciting the people to
rebel. The governor there had no power to punish the printer. Himself
had been much misrepresented in libels. Conway, too, had misrepresented
him; he supposed, if by forgetfulness, would recant. It was but six
months after the peace when Conway had attacked him on the affair of
Manilla; now three or four years had elapsed. He offered to read the
Spanish answer, but if he did, desired not to be called an advocate for
Spain. He would appeal to the Spanish Ambassador if he had ever given
up that ransom.
Nothing could be less justly founded than Grenville’s complaint of
libels. Himself wrote one on American affairs, in which Lord Rockingham
and Conway were treated with contempt and bitterness. His friend,
the Dean of Norwich,[50] Thomas Pitt, and Rigby, not to mention his
brother Lord Temple, dabbled continually in that way. Rigby had even
revised Almon’s last political register, in which was an account of the
conference between the Duke of Bedford and Lord Chatham at Bath.
Conway answered that he had been struck at the time with the idea that
Grenville was pleading in behalf of Spain: himself might have been too
warm then; was not ashamed to recant and ask his pardon, if he had
misrepresented him. He had heard, he said, that Mr. Grenville desired
no place; but wondered he was so much wounded by libels. He himself was
abused by one Almon once a-month for being avaricious; he believed it
was pretty well known how unjustly. He always bought the pamphlet,--the
only hurt he did to the printer. Almon had lately been so modest, as
so solicit him for a patent for printing a book; he had spoken to the
King and obtained it. Everybody must live by their trade; abuse was
Almon’s trade. He himself sometimes differed with the other Ministers;
he was pinned on no great man’s sleeve. He now warned his colleagues
that he should differ with them whenever he was of a different opinion.
The conduct of Grenville in this debate was extremely remarkable. He
not only seemed transported into very impolitic separation from the
Rockinghams by his violence against the Americans, but even by personal
resentment against the former: while at the same time his affected
moderation had the appearance of having taken a new part, that of
standing detached and waiting to see whether he could not penetrate
with more facility into the closet when standing alone, than by the
joint effort of two discordant factions. Whatever were his motives, he
soon fell a sacrifice to this very conduct.
On the report of the address, Grenville engaged in a hot altercation
with Dowdeswell and Burke on their different ideas of what ought
to be done with respect to America. Rigby, provoked at Grenville’s
unseasonable disputation, and perhaps not sorry to offend him, could
not help saying he saw no use in that contest unless it were to
tranquillize the Administration, who might have apprehended the union
of the two Oppositions. The younger Onslow diverted the House with
proposing, in imitation of the Romans, who used to send senators to
inquire into the state of their provinces, to dispatch Grenville
to America on that errand. Two days after Grenville complaining in
form of the _Boston Gazette_, the elder Onslow moved to put off the
consideration for six months, which the House, with a laugh, approved.
On the 27th, Lord Weymouth, observing invidiously that the Ministers
were only in the House of Lords, moved to inquire into the state of the
nation on the Tuesday sennight.
Thomas Townshend, the younger, succeeded Lord North as half-pay master;
and Jenkinson in Townshend’s room was appointed a Lord of the Treasury.
On the 29th opened another new scene. Mr. Conway told me, as the
greatest secret, that the Bedford faction had offered themselves to
the Duke of Grafton on these limited, though few, conditions,--that
Lord Gower should be President of the Council; that Rigby should have
a place, and that Lord Weymouth should divide the Secretary’s place
with Lord Shelburne, taking either the European or American department.
Conway added that he could not object to so considerable an accession
of strength to the Government, but had pressed the Duke of Grafton
to suffer him to resign. He was unwilling to expose himself to more
abuse from the Rockinghams, though they would not speak to him, and
all except Richmond and the Cavendishes censured him in all places. I
warned him to put the Duke of Grafton on his guard: and advised that
his Grace should demand from the Bedfords a specific renunciation of
Grenville, lest their view should be to introduce him afterwards, as
they might hope Conway would quit and leave the Seals open. But, in
truth, I did too much honour both their honesty and policy. I saw this
reinforcement would establish the Government, would diminish Conway’s
trouble if he staid in employment, or would facilitate his retirement,
which he wished; and to which his irresolution and the impossibility I
had found of making him take the first part, had perfectly reconciled
me. I was weary of sacrificing myself for others, and wished as much
as he did to withdraw from politics. At the same time I was desirous
that the Bedfords might disgrace themselves as much as might be in this
transaction. The motives to their new conduct were these:--
Rigby had passed over to Ireland in hopes of obtaining to have
his place of Master of the Rolls there confirmed in the Act for
establishing the Judges for life, but had not succeeded. This
disappointment, the rupture with the Rockinghams, and the precarious
state of the Duke of Bedford’s health, who was breaking, and on the
point of being totally blind,[51] had suggested to Rigby the thought
of abandoning Grenville, whose tedious gravity mixed ill with so
bacchanalian a junto; and, which was more important, was so obnoxious
to the King. It was not difficult to infuse these ideas into his
associates, Rigby being the only one who had prevented their deserting
Grenville long before. Grenville’s American phrenzy, and his absurd
breach with Dowdeswell and that party on the opening of the session,
and his avoidance of hostilities towards the Court, which alarmed the
Bedfords lest he should anticipate them and make his peace first, drove
Rigby into immediate negotiation, which the unpromising state of their
Opposition could but make desirable. Lord Temple was not come to town;
and as Grenville told Rigby, would not come before Christmas, unless
the Duke of Bedford sent for him: but that Court were not desirous of
laying their chief under such an obligation. The Duke of Newcastle
had in vain tried to renew the negotiation between the two opposing
factions. Grenville’s wrong-headedness, and many civil professions
towards the Duke of Bedford dropped by the Duke of Grafton the first
day of the session, encouraged Rigby to make the overtures above
mentioned. They were conveyed by Vernon and Meynell,[52] jockeys and
gamesters of Grafton’s society; the latter his intimate in private, the
other, brother-in-law of the Duchess of Bedford.[53]
Among the various and precipitate changes of the Duke of Grafton at
which I have hinted, and which afterwards constituted so capital a part
of his character, it was not the least astonishing the partiality he
had taken up for Lord Gower, who had been in love with the Duchess
of Grafton; and a principal reason assigned by the Duke for their
separation was his wife’s attachment to Lord Gower and the Duchess of
Bedford--at the same time acquitting her of any criminal partiality.
To policy and to the fear of attacks from Lord Gower and that set in
the House of Lords, the world imputed Grafton’s facility in meeting the
overtures. But it was not then known how little policy and how much
sudden caprice influenced his Grace’s most important steps.
The Duke of Bedford (for the message was sent in his name) demanded
a solemn promise that it should never be known if no treaty was
concluded. They desired, too, that the proposal should not be carried
directly to the King, but that the Duke of Grafton would sound his
Majesty’s inclinations. The Duke answered that he would take no step
without consulting Mr. Conway, and even declared that he would acquaint
him with the offer. They replied civilly that they were confident of
Mr. Conway’s honour and secrecy, and would trust him, confessing also
that there was nobody else fit to conduct the House of Commons,--that
is, they would stick at nothing to get into place, nor at nothing
afterwards to show ingratitude and insolence to the man to whom they
had stooped to be obliged, as soon appeared. The negotiation being so
prosperously advanced, Rigby went out of town for three days, as was
his way on such occasions, that if it miscarried he might to Grenville
plead ignorance.
Having thus far sacrificed to seeming decency, they began to say that
the Duke of Bedford had not quite surmounted his objection to acting
under Conway, but did not doubt but he would. It seemed extraordinary
that they should have commenced the negotiation before that difficulty
was removed. It alarmed me the more as I had conceived peculiar
pleasure in thinking what a triumph it would be to Conway to see the
Bedfords suing to act under him so soon after having proscribed him.
It was no less satisfaction to have Grenville experience what I had
often and often announced to him, that the Bedfords would betray
him the first instant they should find their advantage in it. Yet I
again apprehended that he was behind the curtain, when I heard that,
on opening their views farther, they had not only asked some place
for Lord Sandwich, but for Lord Lyttelton; yet they were so sincere
in their treachery, as to relinquish the latter early. Nor had I
occasion to warn Mr. Conway against acting with Grenville, which he
had refused to do when requested by Lord Rockingham. But as Lord
Sandwich was now mentioned, I thought it necessary to alarm the Duke
of Grafton for the Cabinet, into which I saw they meant to force too
large a number. He said he was on his guard. I thought, too, that Lord
Shelburne ought not to be discontented. The Duke agreed, and talked of
fidelity to Lord Chatham. All this was conveyed to him at my desire
by Mr. Conway, for as yet the Duke had not imparted the negotiation
to me. Hearing, however, that he was inclined to bestow a vacant seat
at the Admiralty on one of the Duke of Bedford’s friends, though
promised to Lord Lisburne,[54] I recommended the Duke’s adhering to
all the engagements he had entered into for the ensuing elections.
Lord Sandwich and Rigby were great traffickers in that trade, and
the Duke, on the contrary, was ill-suited to it. He had lost Suffolk
and Kent by not exerting himself, and Liverpool because he would
neither see Sir George Maccartney, nor trouble himself to give an
answer. If admonished, he would say he did not like his post and would
resign. Many irreconcileable enemies he made on this single article
of elections by imperiousness, and refusing himself to all access. In
this negotiation alone he outwent even the promptitude of the Bedfords;
and they saw themselves so sure of success that their demands were not
only swelled, but Lord Weymouth, as a prelude to their laying down all
pretensions to patriotism, moved to put off the consideration of the
state of the nation. The nation was safe and flourishing as soon as
that faction had even an antepast of emoluments. But in or out of place
their conduct was void of decency. The first day of this session, but
five days before their message, the Duke of Bedford had threatened that
the King’s debts should not be paid. This his Majesty resented with
warmth, and said, the Duke of Bedford, when last in place, had been the
first to propose it to him. This menace from Bedford, and Weymouth’s
motion for the state of the nation, were proofs that it was Grenville’s
preposterous conduct that had fixed Rigby’s determination to treat.
Dec. 4th.--Happening to go to Mr. Conway I met the Duke of Grafton
at the door. I waited, but was called in immediately. The Duke said
he was sure he could trust me with their great secret; wished to
know my opinion on it, and then related the negotiation. I seemed
much surprised, approved of taking the Bedfords, but expressed great
suspicion on their having named Lord Lyttelton.[55] The Duke said that
point was given up; that George Grenville had been with the Duke of
Bedford, who had declared he was weary of opposition, and that his
friends were so too; and that himself and Mr. Grenville were free to
take any part they pleased. I heard this with few replies; but the
Duke adding that they proposed Mr. Conway should resign the Seals,
as they heard he was desirous to do, I broke out, and treated the
proposal as an unheard-of impertinence in a fragment of a minority.
I told the Duke roundly that he and Mr. Conway were _the_ ministry,
and that his Grace could not in honour give up Mr. Conway; and that
it was ridiculous in the aspirants not to have surmounted the Duke of
Bedford’s pretended point of honour before they offered themselves;
and as they allowed their not doubting but it would be surmounted, it
ought not now to be insisted on. The Duke answered, it was not they but
Meynell who had said he thought they would give it up: that himself
had said he could not treat on it, but would refer it to Mr. Conway.
To my utter astonishment Mr. Conway acknowledged himself ready to give
up the Seals. It should not be told, he said, that his place prevented
so great an event for the King’s service. I grew warmer, and said,
it was being turned out by them. He said, No; they had only proposed
it, as he had expressed dislike of his place. It would be pride and
obstinacy to keep it only out of contradiction. I replied, Such pride
would be well-founded when they took upon themselves to remove him.
The Duke seemed, though with indifference enough, to be on my side;
and I saw Conway was hurt that the Duke, as he ought to have done,
did not take it upon himself to reject the motion; and I believe,
adhered the more to his opinion from that just scorn. The Duke said
the City’s confidence was only in him and Conway, and was increased
by the accession of Lord North instead of Charles Townshend, of whom
he related a thousand tricks. Seeing I could make no impression on
Conway, I asked the Duke what Lord Chatham would say? He replied, If
Lord Chatham would do nothing, and left them to do the best they could,
they _must_ do the best they could. He seemed very willing to part with
Lord Shelburne, who, he said, did not communicate with him, and whose
part Conway honourably took. I was so much provoked at the insolence
of the Bedfords, and at the facility with which the Duke, after so
often having declared he would not go on without Conway, and after so
many obligations both to him and to me for Conway’s assistance, gave
him up, that after repeating to the Duke in strong terms how much his
honour was concerned not to sacrifice Conway, he said at last he would
send word to the Bedfords that Mr. Conway was ready to give up his
place, but that he himself would not consent, as it would be changing
the Administration. I asked how the King would approve the plan? “Oh!”
said the Duke, “we shall ask him when it is settled.” He pleaded in his
own defence that these recruits were necessary, as from the weakness
of the Administration, all men were exorbitant in their demands, and
threatened to resign if not gratified: and he read some letters to us,
the arrogance of which I found had much offended his haughty temper.
I staid with Mr. Conway till the Duke was gone, but soon left him,
telling him he thought nothing a virtue but his own moderation.
If I lost my temper on the notification, reflection did not reconcile
me to the measure. Not to mention the impertinence of the supposed
point of honour in the Duke of Bedford, who, because he had excepted
to Conway in the meeting with the Rockinghams, pretended to think it
necessary to adhere to it in the very instant of deserting Grenville, I
was shocked at the indifference and levity of the Duke of Grafton and
the indecency of his making the proposal in such bare-faced terms to
Mr. Conway. I had expressed that indignation with so little management,
that the Duke, I am persuaded, did not forgive it. That was the least
part of my concern. His mutability was so glaring, that I determined
never to have anything to do with him more; and, in fact, did not see
him again in private afterwards. It was yet more lasting reflection
that I made on the futility of politics. All my success and triumph in
the preceding summer had lasted but five months. Conway was desirous
to quit, and the Bedfords were to come into place. It determined me to
busy myself no more in such delusive scenes. I had in the preceding
winter notified to my constituents at Lynn, that I would serve no
more in Parliament. The door was thus already favourably open to me.
Mr. Conway’s resignation would leave me at liberty to have done
with politics. I took my resolution to abandon them with the present
Parliament--a happy determination, and which I never found one moment’s
cause to repent. For, if the alarming designs of the Court have since
forced me at any time to encourage opposition to their measures,
I still had seen too much of parties, factions, and their leaders
to embark with any. Still, the weakness of the human mind, and the
difficulty of bursting from all one’s passions at once, did not suffer
these reflections to strike root directly, but occasioned my making a
few more struggles to thwart the overbearing arrogance of the Bedfords.
After parting from Mr. Conway, I saw Lord Hertford, who talked of going
out of town. I said, he absolutely must not. He asked Why? I replied,
I could not tell him; but go he must not. I was resolved to keep the
secret, but yet to disappoint the full effect of the plan, so far as to
reduce the Bedfords to come in under Mr. Conway.
He himself came to me the next morning, saying, I had quitted him in
such a passion, that he wished to talk the affair more cooly over with
me. I said, I had never in my life been so much hurt as at seeing him
submit to such an affront. He denied that it was one. At last I almost
engaged him to say he would keep the Seals till the end of the session,
and then resign them. All I desired was to finish with that triumph.
Lord Hertford, impatient to learn the meaning of my mysterious
behaviour, came to desire an explanation of it. I told him I had
received private intelligence that the Bedfords would soon make an
offer of themselves; and that, therefore, he must go to the King, and
tell him he came to put his Majesty upon his guard, for Lord Gower had
got such an ascendant over the Duke of Grafton, that he could do what
he would with him: but his Majesty must ask time to consider; and,
above all things, insist that nobody that had stood by him should be
given up, lest it should look more like changing than strengthening
the Administration. “Oh!” said he, “_that_ I am sure the King will not
hear.” “Ay,” replied I, “but he must insist too that there shall be
no alteration in the plan of elections.” This, I knew, would strike
Lord Hertford, who was dealing largely for boroughs--and so it did. He
fired, and said he would press it strongly; but he was sure no offers
had yet come, for the King would have told him. I suspected by this
that the King did not trust him so much as he thought, or wished to
have thought, for I did not doubt but the Duke had already broken the
matter in the closet. I said, “My Lord, be not too sure.” “Why?” said
he; “have any offers been made?” I replied, My intelligence could not
go so far as that; but I suspected there had: and I added, “When you
tell the King, watch his countenance. If any offers have been made, he
will tell you on this opening; or, at least, you will discover it in
his face.”