Baronhill, Nov. 25th, 1788.
MY DEAR LORD,
When I left London last Saturday, the accounts were not arrived of
the state of the King's health. He was much better on the Friday
morning, but relapsed in the evening. I am afraid it is a very
hopeless case, though much time ought to elapse before anybody
ventured to pronounce for a certainty; and the physicians, who have
been so warped by party, or by an anxiety to pay their court to the
Prince, as to venture to do so, certainly deserve the severest
reprehension. The meeting of Parliament was much the fullest, in
both Houses, I ever saw; and in the House of Peers, the greatest
decency I ever witnessed, considering the hopes and fears of each
party. There were but seven Bishops (among whom Chester was one)
present, which is a proof that crows soon smell powder. I took the
opportunity of coming down here to settle my private affairs, which
my sudden departure had left unsettled, your brother William having
promised to send for me in case there is no appearance of the
King's recovering before the 4th of December, in which case another
adjournment would certainly take place, or in case Government
should not contest the Prince's becoming Regent without a Council.
It will be with great unwillingness I shall return, as I wish to
remain here till the beginning of February; but if I find we are
all expected to stand to our guns, and that our generals are ready
to fight a battle without a compromise, I shall leave my dear
Baronhill, and all my comforts, for all pleasures of war's alarms:
marching and countermarching in the House of Lords, drums beating,
and colours flying, &c. I supped at White's the night before I left
town, where Pitt was in high spirits, and Selwyn uncommonly
ridiculous; in general, our friends seem to await the approaching
storm with the greatest _sang-froid_ and philosophy: the longest
faces I saw were Lord Hawkesbury's, Lord Sydney's, and Sir George
Yonge's. I heard for certain that the Chancellor, who was suspected
of being _rattically_ inclined, was firm as a rock, and that the
whole Cabinet were determined to _die_ together. Fox was either not
found, or averse to returning, although the Opposition were looking
out for him as the Jews look out for their Messiah. _Je crois qu'il
boude un peu._ Sheridan and Lord Loughborough are those who more
immediately correspond with the Prince, with which, I believe, the
old Rockinghams were much dissatisfied; in short, there is every
reason to think there is a division among them, which, however, a
sense of common interest and common danger may rectify before the
day of trial. Your sister Williams, and Sir Watkin, were in town
both crying up the affection, humanity, filial piety, feeling, &c.,
of the Prince, and lamenting the little chance of the King's
recovery, &c. The Nevilles were to leave town last Sunday, and by
being in the neighbourhood of Windsor, can inform you, if they
choose it, of the real state of the late and present behaviour and
conduct of _some persons_ in that quarter who are so puffed by the
papers and by the Opposition. In the changes and chances of this
mortal life, our Barony of Braybroke appears to have been secured
at a lucky moment. I left Parry in town, and I set Rose and Steele
to coax him a little, for the old grievance sticks by him, and he
wants much persuasion to efface the memory of it. Sir Hugh is here,
and complains much of never having had one letter answered since
Pitt has been in power; notwithstanding which, I shall take him up
if the battle is to be fought before Christmas. I am afraid more
rats will run, on account of Pitt's inattention to these trifles,
than on any other account whatsoever; indeed I heard as much in
town. Rose and Steele may laugh at such details, but they are
necessary; and the constituent will not believe the member's
assiduity unless he sees a real or ostensible answer. I gave my
L100 to the Westminster election, in consequence of a letter from
Rose; I could ill spare it, but finding others were dosed in the
same manner, I gulped the grievance.
I am, my dear Lord's sincere friend,
B.