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MEMOIRS
OF THE REIGN OF
KING GEORGE THE THIRD.
VOL. II.
[Illustration:
_Benj. West. pinx.^t_ _J. Cook, Sc._
QUEEN CHARLOTTE.
London, Published by Richard Bentley, 1844.]
MEMOIRS
OF THE REIGN OF
KING GEORGE THE THIRD.
BY HORACE WALPOLE,
YOUNGEST SON OF SIR ROBERT WALPOLE, EARL OF ORFORD.
NOW FIRST PUBLISHED FROM THE ORIGINAL MSS.
EDITED, WITH NOTES,
BY SIR DENIS LE MARCHANT, BART.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.
1845.
LONDON:
Printed by S. & J. BENTLEY, WILSON, and FLEY,
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.
CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.
A. D. PAGE
CHAPTER I.
1764. Appearance of “An Address to the Public on a late
Dismission” 4
Walpole’s Answer to that Pamphlet _ib._
Charles Townshend’s “Defence of the Minority in the House of
Commons on the Question relative to General Warrants” 8
July 8th. Death of the Earl of Bath 13
July 10th. Trial of the Chevalier d’Eon 14
Aug. 23rd. Death of Mr. Legge 17
Of the Duke of Devonshire 20
Nov. 1st. Outlawry of Wilkes 35
Nov. 4th. Death of Churchill _ib._
CHAPTER II.
1765. Church Preferments 41
Jan. 10th. Meeting of Parliament 42
Lord Chatham’s Legacy from Sir William Pynsent 44
Jan. 23rd. Debate on Dismissal of Officers 46
Jan. 26th. Duel between Mr. Chaworth and Lord Byron 51
Jan. 29th. Renewal of the Question of General Warrants _ib._
CHAPTER III.
1765. Jan. 30th. Distinction between late Motions on General
Warrants shown in the Votes 63
Dismissal of Officers 64
Feb. 6th. Proceedings against Almon deferred 67
Mr. Grenville’s Resolutions 68
Dr. Browne’s Pamphlet 79
CHAPTER IV.
1765. Isle of Man Act 81
King’s Illness 82
March 4th. Motion respecting _Ex-officio_ Informations 84
March 29th. Budget opened by Grenville 87
April 3rd. Newfoundland and Virginia Petitions 89
CHAPTER V.
1765. State of Parties 93
King’s Illness 95
April 24th. Regency-Bill 106
CHAPTER VI.
1765. May 7th. Debates in the House of Commons on the
Regency-Bill 127
CHAPTER VII.
1765. May 9th. Debates on the Regency-Bill 138
May 13th. The Princess-Dowager’s name reinserted in the Bill 149
Bill for altering the Duties on Italian Silks 154
May 15th. Riots of the Weavers on its introduction 155
Projected Change in the Ministry 160
CHAPTER VIII.
1765. May 18th. The King’s differences with his Ministers 163
May 20th. Negotiations with Mr. Pitt to form a new
Administration 165
Contemplated appointment of a Captain-General 170
Reconciliation of Lord Temple and Mr. Grenville 171
Ministers recalled 172
Dismissal of Mr. Mackenzie 175
May 25th. Parliament Prorogued 179
CHAPTER IX.
1765. June 12th. Differences between the King and his Ministers 182
June 17th. Further Negotiations with Mr. Pitt 186
Attempts to form a Whig Administration 187
Summary of the Negotiations 189
July 8th. New Ministry formed 192
Mysterious Behaviour of Mr. Pitt 202
Arrival of the Prince and Princess of Brunswick 209
CHAPTER X.
1765. Walpole’s Separation from his Party 210
His Character of Mr. Conway 213
Commencement of the Troubles with North America 217
Oct. 31st. Death of the Duke of Cumberland 223
Negotiations with the Courts of Versailles and Madrid 227
CHAPTER XI.
1765. Dec. 17th. Meeting of Parliament 235
Debates on the Stamp Act and the State of North America 236
Dec. 29th. Death of Prince Frederick, the King’s youngest
brother 238
Walpole’s Observations upon the state of France at this
period 239
Death of the Dauphin 241
CHAPTER XII.
1766. Jan. 1st. Death of the Pretender 255
Intrigues against the Ministry 257
Jan. 14th. Debate on the Stamp Act 260
Jan. 27th. On the Petition from America 270
First Speech of Mr. Edmund Burke 273
CHAPTER XIII.
1766. Irksome Position of the Ministers 276
Feb. 3rd. Debate on Five Resolutions on American Affairs 277
Feb. 5th. Continuation of the Debate 283
Pitt’s eccentric Conduct _ib._
Feb. 7th. Mr. Grenville moves an Address to the King, to
enforce the Laws 284
Opposed strenuously by Pitt 285
Violent Scene in the House 286
Double Dealing of George III. 289
Feb. 17th. Warm Debate on the Production of Papers 290
CHAPTER XIV.
1766. Lord Bute humiliates the Duke of Bedford and Mr. Grenville 294
Feb. 21st. General Conway moves the Repeal of the Stamp Act 296
Obtains leave to bring in a Bill 298
Excited State of the Country 299
Recommitment moved and rejected 301
Desultory Opposition 302
March 4th. Final Debate 303
The Repeal passed by a large Majority 307
Conduct of Lord Rockingham 309
CHAPTER XV.
1766. Difficulties of the Ministry 311
Further Negotiation with Mr. Pitt 320
May 1st. Meeting of Ministers 322
The Seals given to the Duke of Richmond 324
Grant to the Royal Dukes 328
June 3rd. Portion of the Princess Caroline 330
Treachery of Dyson 331
July 7th. Conduct of the Chancellor 334
Virtual Fall of the Rockingham Administration 338
CHAPTER XVI.
1766. July 13th. Mr. Pitt proposes to Conway to remain in the
Ministry 339
July 16th. Quarrel with Lord Temple 342
Townshend Chancellor of the Exchequer 346
Rockingham displaced to make way for Grafton 349
Resignation of Lord John Cavendish 352
Lord Rockingham affronts Pitt 355
July 30th. Mr. Pitt is raised to the Peerage 356
Unpopularity of the new Lord Chatham 358
Changes and Preferments 359
Foreign Policy 362
Disturbed State of the Country 366
Chatham’s Interview with Walpole 368
CHAPTER XVII.
1766. Nov. 11th. Debates on the Embargo laid on Corn 371
Party Tactics 374
Walpole exerts himself to prevent Conway from resigning 382
View of Lord Chatham’s Conduct 385
CHAPTER XVIII.
1766. Nov. 25th. Lord Chatham proposes to examine the East India
Company’s Affairs 394
His unaccountable Conduct _ib._
Nov. 27th. More signs of Weakness in the Cabinet 395
Negotiation with the Duke of Bedford 398
Bill of Indemnity 403
Dec. 9th. Debates on the East India Question _ib._
Dec. 10th. Attack on Lord Chatham in the House of Lords by
the Duke of Richmond 410
CHAPTER XIX.
1767. Jan. 16th. Desultory Discussions on American and East
Indian Affairs 413
Debates on the Land-Tax 420
Defeat of the Ministers 423
March 2nd. Conduct of Lord Chatham 426
March 6th. Offer made by the East India Company 428
Motion for Papers 429
CHAPTER XX.
1767. March 19th. Provision for the King’s Brothers 437
March 24th. Debate 438
Death of the Marquis of Tavistock 440
Of the Dauphiness 443
Regulation of America 447
New Project of using force towards the Colonies 448
March 30th. Discussion in the House of Lords on the
American Papers _ib._
The East India Question 449
Insanity of Lord Chatham 450
Interview of the Author with the Lord Chancellor 452
April 10th. Debate on an Act of the Assembly of Massachusets 454
Attempted reconciliation between Conway and Rockingham 455
MEMOIRS
OF THE REIGN OF
KING GEORGE THE THIRD.
CHAPTER I.
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 5000_l._ 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 George[21] 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
500_l._, 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 1200_l._ 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 Chancellor[30]
objected to Norton for Master of the Rolls; and Charles Yorke was
frightened[31] 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 Chesterfield[33]
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
Shannon[35]--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 Yonge[36] 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!