Debates on the Regency-bill.--The Princess Dowager’s name reinserted
in the Bill.--Bill for altering the Duties on Italian Silks.--
Riots of the Weavers on its introduction.--Projected change in the
Ministry.
On May the 9th, the House went into committee on the bill. Rose Fuller
said he would not opiniate the point, but declared he was against the
precedent of appointing an unknown person Regent; not against any of
the persons that had been named as qualified: yet surely none of them
were so proper as the Queen. Should a younger brother be appointed by
his Majesty’s will, it would offend the elder. So had the Parliament
thought in the minority of Henry VI., with regard to the Dukes of
Bedford and Gloucester. It was the more necessary to name the Queen, as
he had heard of another motion going to be made. Everybody, therefore,
would understand the reason of his motion. He moved, accordingly, to
insert the name of the Queen, instead of the words _such persons_; and
was seconded by Mr. Onslow, and by Sir W. Meredith, who declared he had
intended to make the same motion. It was objected to by Burrell,[113]
who said, the Duke of Cumberland’s name had not stood in the original
bill; had been inserted on after-thought; would the House omit him now?
Lord George Sackville said, he had been against even the respectful
manner in which Lord John Cavendish had proposed to address the King
to name the person he should wish for Regent: he was much more against
the present motion. In history there was no precedent worth following.
His Majesty was tied by parental affection to name the Queen, and was
best qualified to know his own family, and who would be most proper
for the office. If his youngest brother was best qualified, let him
be named. Let the whole family be taught to pay their court to and
imitate the King. Conway replied, that the power now to be given was
a compliment to all future kings. Would Parliament be able to say, We
trusted this power to George III. for his virtues, and refuse it to any
other king, though vicious. The young Princes of the blood might prove
ambitious. The bill itself would be of no force if the King should
leave the nomination not filled up. No provision was made against
such a contingency. When the late King went abroad, he always left a
private letter empowering the Lords of the Regency to fill up places.
In that reign though the Duke of Cumberland was so proper for Regent,
yet his present Majesty’s mother had been preferred--let the House
therefore imitate that sole precedent. Dempster opposed the motion,
yet with passing general censures. He did not approve, he said, all
the Ministers had done, particularly the dismission of General Conway.
He did not approve the oriental adulation heaped on the birth of this
bill; he saw nothing so heroic in it. He did not approve the power
entrusted to the Regency of continuing the Parliament for three years.
Lord North urged that the motion was unnecessary, because everybody
knew there would be no person named against whom the House could have
any objection. Sir George Saville said, he was astonished to hear that
uncertainty was the parent of security, and certainty of uproar and
confusion. He was afraid of delegating new powers; he rejected all
arguments founded on personal considerations. He felt them as strongly
as anybody, but they were false, unlogical, and unfair. All the persons
declared capable, were proper; but while there was one more proper, the
rest were improper. Lord Frederick Campbell said, the motion tended
to appoint a person with greater power than the King’s. Dowdeswell
replied, that the powers given by the bill were not new powers to
supply the defects of a minority, but new powers granted to the King.
Should he appoint an improper person, who could stand up to object to
such great persons? He wished he could see any general bill of Regency;
but when such difficulties were started on these bills, he feared
future kings and ministers would recommend no more bills, therefore he
wished to see a general one. He did not know which he feared most, the
union or the disunion of the Royal Family. George Grenville said, he
had the highest authority for declaring that the powers to be granted
to his Majesty would be executed immediately, and the public would
know they were. “Would it be only sealing the instrument,” Colonel
Barré asked, “or would the person named for Regent be known?” “I said,”
replied Grenville, “the powers would be executed, and that it would be
known they were; not the person.” “The Crown knows,” said Colonel Barré
again, “that we are no Parliament of Paris, but proposes matters to us,
and we ought to show what we think of them. Queen Mary asked the same
power as had been granted to her father, and was refused. It shows,
therefore, how ready the Crown is to take advantage of precedents. The
princes of the blood might grow to court the Ministers; it was a bill
to encourage faction. Whither could the power be carried, where it
would be less likely to do mischief than to the Queen! By not naming
her, the House must suppose the Queen might not be Regent, and so her
children would be torn from her by the will of her consort. Perhaps
the King wished to induce the Parliament to name the Queen, that the
Parliament might then be bound to support her. Mr. Dowdeswell had
asked, whether, on an improper person being named, the Parliament would
object? Yes; even in the reign of Charles II. the Parliament had spoken
out. Grenville, he believed, had not drawn the bill. It came from a
quarter that made it wear all the marks of ministerial distraction.”
Whencesoever it had issued, he believed those of his profession (the
military) would reap all the harvest. Averse as he was to the Ministry,
the bill, he thought, would torture them more than they deserved. The
motion was rejected at six o’clock by 258 to 67.
As soon as the division was over, and while the House was expecting
Morton’s[114] motion, Mr. Conway came to me and said he would go away
with me, as would Sir William Meredith and others; and that they would
not vote in the question on the Princess, but on the third reading of
the bill, when their vote would not be personal to her. I immediately
went out, but found nobody followed me. I did not like to be single,
and returned, but at last carried Mr. Conway away. In the meantime,
Morton and Kynaston,[115] a noted Jacobite, moved to reinstate the
Princess’s name in the bill. Samuel Martin, a servant of the Princess,
and known from his duel with Wilkes, spoke strongly for that measure;
declared he was totally unauthorized, and believed her Royal Highness
averse to be named. The bill, he found, had been altered, by what
means he did not know; nor was it proper to tell if he did. He must
suppose the alteration came from nowhere but the other House. None of
the Royal Family but the Princess were excluded. If the Queen should
die, who would be so proper for a Regent as her Royal Highness? Why
did the other House stigmatize or put a brand on her? And then looking
at Grenville, he said, the Princess had had occasion to see the
professions made to her were not from the heart. Dr. Blackstone spoke
in the same behalf, as did the younger George Onslow, who beseeched
his friends to look on him with an eye of pity, for being forced to
differ with them from conscience. In case of the Queen’s death, the
Princess, by law, was the most proper person to replace her. The more
persons capable of the Regency, the worse; but when all the rest were
named in the bill, he could not consent to exclude her Royal Highness.
His cousin took the other side, but called God to witness that he
intended no personality. He had been for the nomination of the Queen,
and now thought the smaller the number the better. He had heard the
Secretary of State had procured the omission of the Princess. This
occasioned his being called to order. Sir John Rushout, as the ancient
oracle of the House, declared that Onslow might say what he had heard
from common fame, but might not say he had heard it himself. Onslow,
on that authority, affirmed he had been told that the Secretary of
State did not make the motion for omission of the Princess by private
authority; and on that authority he desired explanation. Had the House
of Commons received such a message, it would have quieted them. The
present motion was cruel to the Princess: the correction in the House
of Lords, he was persuaded, was not personal. Had the Duke of York been
omitted, his own objection to restoring the Duke’s name would have been
the same. Grenville[116] replied, that the words moved by Lord Halifax
were inserted to prevent doubt: himself had thought they would not be
disagreeable to her Royal Highness--hoped they were not--thought they
would be universally acceptable--thought there had been authority for
the omission, but found there was not; would concur in any compliment
to the mother of his sovereign.
This cold, half-owning, half-denying speech, completed Grenville’s ruin
with the Princess. Martin vowed to God he did not know her opinion on
the question, and was believed as much as Grenville and Onslow had
been. Morton more artfully said, that if her Highness had intended to
send a message to the House, it would not have been by so insignificant
a man as himself. Onslow said, he hoped it would not be interpreted as
if he meant to brand the Princess. Whoever used that term, branded the
House of Lords. Lord Palmerston gave a strong dissent to the motion,
though he owned the situation was disagreeable. The Princess, he said,
was excluded by a great and general line. The motion then passed
without a division, but with several No’s. Equally to the disgrace of
both sides, the Ministers servilely revoking what they had insolently
and unjustifiably done; the Opposition withstanding the reparation, yet
not daring to avow,--nay, disavowing the very motive of the obstruction
they gave.
I had thus, as I flattered myself, prevented the greater number of our
friends from personally offending the Princess. My arguments and their
own interest had kept many from the House. I did not doubt but the
Ministers would be dismissed, if the Court found that it had hopes of
mollifying the Opposition. But the next morning I perceived the vertigo
was returned with fresh force. On going to the House, Sir William
Meredith told me that Onslow was determined to put it to a division
on the report, encouraged by the many negatives on the Princess’s
question. This was judging weakly, for many would cry “No!” who would
not have voted, when they would have been personally distinguished
by a division. He added, that Forester, the Duke of Bedford’s lawyer,
had laughed at them for not dividing. I was not the dupe of that art;
the less as Rigby had been the first to acquaint Mr. Conway with
Morton’s intended motion; and to draw in our party, the Bedford faction
had given out that Forester would oppose the re-establishment of the
Princess’s name. Lord Rockingham confirmed this intelligence--agreed
with me, but said he could not prevail on the Duke of Newcastle, on
whom I found the Bedfords had contrived to make the impression they
wished. Sir William Meredith added that Onslow had said to him over
night, “I believe you, Conway, and T. Townshend acted from conscience,
but all the rest from interest.” I replied, “Sir William, Onslow may
say what he pleases, yet he will accept a place before I shall. I
had rather be taxed with self-interest, than call God to witness I
mean no personality, when I am doing the most personal thing in the
world.” Provoked at this new absurdity, I went away, depending that
Mr. Conway, who had retired with me the day before, and had promised
me not to vote against the Princess, would be firm to his promise;
yet when the question came on, he had the weakness, though he tried
to prevent a division, to vote with the Cavendishes against her. They
pretended to desire he would not, but knew how much the fear of their
silent reproaches would operate on him.[117] Newcastle’s people were
violent, and insisted on a division, driven on by John White,[118] an
old republican, who governed both Newcastle and Lord John Cavendish,
and who hoped this vote would divide the Opposition from Mr. Pitt, whom
White hated, and who he certainly knew would never personally affront
the Court. Yet after all their hopes, the result of this intemperate
measure was a contemptible minority of 37. What was more unlikely,
Rigby retired, and did not vote with the majority, though he had
declared nothing should make him vote against the Princess. Her triumph
would have been complete, if anything could have effaced the affront
she had received, and which must remain on record. What the few Whigs
in that little minority could plead in their defence, was difficult
to say. They had loudly condemned the motion for removing Sir Robert
Walpole on public fame, and now endeavoured to stigmatize the Princess
on the same ground, without daring even to assign it as a pretence.
The conduct of the Ministers was still more double; and many believed
that the Duke of Cumberland’s hatred of the Princess had drawn him
at last to concur with the Bedfords in instigating Newcastle to this
measure. Grenville scarce concealed his sentiments; and Lord Burghersh
telling him he would go away, rather than vote with the Tories, unless
he, Grenville, desired him not; the latter bade him follow his own
inclination--he stayed and voted against the Princess.
After some other clauses proposed and rejected, the Bill passed at
eleven at night. During the debate Onslow attacked Charles Townshend,
(who had spoken for the Court,) and congratulated the Treasury-bench
on their acquisition. Townshend replied in one of his best speeches,
but with his usual want of judgment, boasted of his own steadiness for
sixteen years; saying, “Surely, in these times, with a little common
sense, I might have been dependent if I had pleased.” The answer was
obvious--“With a little common sense you might.”
Rose Fuller declared that if the motion for reinstating the Princess
was rejected, he, to show his impartiality, would move to omit her
Royal Highness’s daughters and Princess Amalie. It was said with
humour, that would be like Lord Anglesey, who beating his wife,[119]
she said, “How much happier is that wench (pointing to a housemaid)
than I am!” He immediately kicked the maid down stairs, and then said,
“Well! there is at least one grievance removed.”
On the 13th, the bill, returned from the Commons, with the name of
the Princess Dowager reinserted, was read in the House of Lords,
and the Ministers were to swallow the amendment, and palliate their
past conduct as well as they could. The task was allotted to Lord
Sandwich. He owned Lord Halifax’s amendment had met with his hearty
concurrence, and he had expected it would have passed through both
Houses unanimously: had thought it would be disapproved of by no person
whatever. But whether that amendment or the correction of it should
take place, the great point would be obtained of ascertaining who
were the persons capable of the Regency. He hoped, therefore, their
Lordships would agree to the correction sent up from the other House.
Parliament could not mean to exclude the Princess, if it would be
disagreeable to her Royal Highness, or to any other person: the sole
meaning had been to remove doubts. Should he himself adhere to the
former words, he should be inconsistent, for those words had no longer
the same meaning; but he had thought the amendment would have been
universally approved. He had meant to establish any description that
would be agreeable to the King and people. It was now of consequence to
be unanimous in re-establishing the name of her Royal Highness.
By Sandwich and Grenville dwelling so much upon the expectation they
had conceived, that the omission of the Princess would be universally
approved, it was plain they had flattered themselves with acquiring
such popularity by that act, that the King would not dare to remove
them. This had driven them on the outrage they had committed. The
event proved just the contrary of what they had expected. Obnoxious
as the Princess was, the heinousness of the insult to her, and of the
treachery to the King, shocked all mankind, and seemed doubly offensive
in men from whom the King had a right to expect defence, and who had
plunged so deep into the most arbitrary and unpopular measures. It
was not by _their_ hands that the nation wished to see the Princess
and Favourite humbled. The same fate attended Sandwich now, that had
pursued the discovery of the “Essay on Woman.” The profaneness of
Wilkes, and the unpopularity of the Princess, were forgotten in the
more odious means employed to disgrace them.
The Duke of Richmond took notice that the words now inserted by the
House of Commons were precisely the same with those he had moved
himself, and was glad they were likely to be agreed to; yet when he
had proposed them, Lord Sandwich had moved to adjourn. His own wish
had tended to precision; and his view, to pass the act in the manner
most agreeable to the King. When Lord Halifax had brought other words,
he had concluded those words were agreeable to his Majesty, for he
believed _Lord Halifax_ incapable of deceiving the King or the House
(this was pointed at Lord Sandwich). He had now heard that their
Lordships must eat their words; and that what had happened was a
stigma on her Royal Highness. Surely that was not paying court to her:
such assertions had more zeal than judgment in them; and were injurious
to the House. Lord Sandwich replied, that he had moved to adjourn,
because the question had been too great to be determined suddenly: he
had not been against the Duke’s motion. He knew of nothing injurious
from the other House.
The Duke of Portland[120] disagreed with the new amendment, because
he recollected, he said, _the authority_ with which the omission of
the Princess had gone down to the other House. To reinstate her now
would be inconsistent and contradictory. Lord Talbot said there was
no inconsistency in changing, when founded on the opinions of the
other House. It was advantageous to the constitution to have the joint
wisdom of both. Lord Ravensworth said he had always been for naming
the Princess, yet disapproved the new amendment, because the former
amendment had come from the King. The Duke of Newcastle dissented from
the amendment; protested he had no views; could only serve his country
by his opinion in that House. He would not say the other House had no
right to make this amendment; but they had not shown that respect to
the Crown, or to their Lordships, that they had meant to show. It had
been usual to receive nominations or stipulations from the Crown. The
House of Commons should not have taken upon themselves to nominate. He
thought Lord Halifax incapable of bringing anything but truth from the
King: he wished, therefore, the former words had not been altered.
The present alteration was not warranted by precedent. Lord Halifax’s
motion had reduced the number of those that were capable of the
Regency, and therefore was a desirable measure. Lord Denbigh expressed
his astonishment at the former extraordinary motion, which had flowed
from as extraordinary a quarter. He had not been present, yet should
have voted for it, extraordinary as it was; should wonder if their
Lordships should not agree to correct that wonderful measure. During
the meridian of Newcastle’s power, _now dwindled_, the Princess was
named Regent. If Prince Frederick[121] should, by failure of the
rest of the Royal Family, come to be King before he was of age, the
Princess, by Newcastle’s bill, must be Regent. He believed his Grace’s
great age had made him forget one of his favourite children. Lord
Talbot said he did not believe the Duke objected to the Princess, but
would have had the Commons consider the motion as the King’s. He would
not enter into the merits of the Princess. Though he held that stick
in his hand (of Lord-Steward), he had never known a Court-secret.
Should the King die, the Princess would be too afflicted to act. He
then ridiculed the Opposition; and concluded with saying, “I was once
a patriot, my Lords, for patriotism is always in opposition.” Lord
Pomfret declared strongly in favour of the Princess; and the amendment
was agreed to without a negative. The bill passed.
But though the Ministers had been forced to make atonement, the
sacrifice was by no means accepted. The King treated them with every
mark of estrangement and aversion; and it was visible to every eye that
their fall was determined. Previous to their dismission, they tasted
of the horror in which they were held by the people. The very day on
which the Regency-bill passed, the Lords read another bill sent from
the Commons, for imposing as high duties on Italian silks as are paid
on those of France, on this foundation, that the French sent their
silks to Genoa and Leghorn, and then entered them there as Italian
merchandize. This bill had passed the Commons with little notice, all
attention having been engrossed by the plan of the Regency. When it was
read by the Lords, the Duke of Bedford alone spoke against it; nobody
said a word for it, and it was thrown out.[122] It happened that the
silk manufacture was at a low ebb, and many weavers in Spitalfields
were unemployed. The next day about three or four thousand of those
poor men went very quietly and unarmed to Richmond, to petition the
King for redress. The Queen was walking in the paddock, and was alarmed
by their numbers; but they gave no offence, and followed the King
in the same peaceable manner to Wimbledon, whither he was gone to a
review. The King told them, he would do all that lay in his power to
relieve them, and they returned pleased and orderly.
But the next day, May 15th, whether they distinguished between the
assurances given by his Majesty and the rejection of the bill by the
Lords; or whether, as is more probable, they had been instigated
under-hand, they went to the House of Lords in great bodies, behaving
in the most riotous manner, abusing the Peers, and applauding the
Commons, who had passed their bill. The Chancellor’s[123] coach they
stopped, and asked him if he had been against the bill? He stoutly
replied, Yes. They were abashed at his firmness, and said they hoped
he would do justice. He replied, “Always, and everywhere; and whoever
did, need fear nothing.” When the Duke of Bedford appeared, they hissed
and pelted him; and one of the mob taking up a large stone for the new
pavement, dashed it into the chariot: the Duke broke the force of the
blow by holding up his arm, but it cut his hand, and bruised him on
the temple; so narrowly he escaped with his life. They then followed
him to his own house, where with great temper he admitted two of the
ringleaders to a parley, and they went away seemingly appeased.[124]
The next day the House of Lords issued out orders for preservation of
the peace; but the weavers continued to parade the streets and the
park, though without committing any violence.
On the Friday, the Lords sent for Justice Fielding, who said the
weavers had done no mischief. The Chancellor, who had been trusted by
the Ministers with none of their late extraordinary measures, and who
probably foresaw their downfall, was sullen, and would take no part.
Few Lords attended, and everything announced to the Ministers their
approaching disgrace. About dinner-time, the Duke of Bedford received
intelligence that his house would be assaulted at night, on which
he sent away his jewels and papers, and demanded a party of horse;
the Duchess[125] persisting in remaining with him in the house. His
friends and dependants, and several officers, garrisoned it; and as
was foreseen, the rioters in prodigious numbers assaulted the house
in the evening, and began to pull down the wall of the court;[126]
but the great gates being thrown open, the party of horse appeared,
and sallying out, while the riot act was read, rode round Bloomsbury
Square, slashing and trampling on the mob, and dispersing them; yet
not till two or three of the guards had been wounded. In the meantime
a party of the rioters had passed to the back of the house, and were
forcing their way through the garden, when fortunately fifty more
horse arriving, in the very critical instant, the house was saved,
and perhaps the lives of all that were in it. The Duke, however, and
his company kept watch all night; and the coffee-houses were filled
with curious and idle people, who sent with great indifference every
hour to learn how the siege went on. The disappointed populace vented
their rage on the house of Carr, a fashionable mercer, who dealt in
French silks, and demolished the windows. All Saturday they remained
peaceable; and though another attack on Bedford House was threatened,
no further mischief ensued.
On Sunday evening I went to compliment the Duke and Duchess, as
most of their acquaintance did, on their escape. I found the square
crowded, but chiefly with persons led by curiosity. As my chariot
had no coronets, I was received with huzzas; but when the horses
turned to enter the court, dirt and stones were thrown at it. When
the gates opened, I was surprised with the most martial appearance.
The horse-guards were drawn up in the court, and many officers
and gentlemen were walking about as on the platform of a regular
citadel. The whole house was open, and knots of the same kind were
in every room. When I came to the Duchess, and lamented the insult
they had suffered, she replied, with warmth and acrimony, that the
mob had been set on by Lord Bute. I was not much inclined to believe
_that_, nor thought a mob a tool with which Lord Bute would choose to
amuse himself. Immediately after, came in the Earl and Countess of
Northumberland. Words cannot describe the disdainful manner in which
they were received.[127] The Duke of Bedford left the room; the Earl
was not asked to sit, nor spoken to; but was treated with such visible
marks of neglect and aversion, that Lord Waldegrave said to another of
the family, “Faith! this is too much.” In my own opinion, the mob was
blown up by Humphrey Cotes,[128] and the friends of Wilkes. Almond, the
friend and printer of the latter, owned to me, that they were directed
by four or five gentlemen in disguise, who were not suspected; and
seemed willing to disclose the secret to me. I said, “Name no names
to me, I will not hear them.” He gave me a print published by Cotes
against Lord Bute and Lord Holland; and talked of risings that would
be all over England. I said, “I should be sorry to have the mob rise:
it would occasion the army being quartered in London, and then we
should be enslaved.”
Perhaps I have dwelt too minutely on this episode; perhaps I have done
so on many other points equally unimportant. But it must be remembered
that I am painting a portrait of the times, rather than writing
history. The events, too, of this time were so linked together, that
trifles gave birth to serious eras; and unless it be detailed with
the circumstantial exactness which I shall use, and which I stood in
a situation to know more thoroughly than most men, from my intimacy
or connection with many of the actors, the history of this reign will
be very imperfectly understood; and posterity would see sudden and
extraordinary changes; without being able to account for them from the
public appearances of things. When it is known, it will be easy to
compose a more compendious account; and my narrative, that may serve
for the scaffolding, may be thrown by as no longer of use.
The King, on all other occasions so able and steady a dissembler, did
not affect now to disguise the offence he had taken at his Ministers.
He had long inwardly groaned under their insolence and disagreeable
qualities: and though for some time Lord Bute a little restrained his
Majesty’s impatience to throw them off, both the Favourite and the
mother had contributed to foment the King’s aversion. The Duchess of
Bedford had openly affronted the Princess, and avowed her hatred to
Lord Bute. To Lord Sandwich the Favourite bore private resentment, for
having courted a little too assiduously, though he was disappointed
in the pursuit, rich old Wortley Montagu, Lady Bute’s father.[129]
But Grenville was the principal rock of offence. I have mentioned his
jealousy and ill-treatment of the Favourite; his manners made him as
distasteful to the King, as his engrossing fondness for power had made
him to the Favourite. His ill-judged economy had led him to refuse
twenty thousand pounds to the King, to buy the ground behind the Green
Park, where the King had made a new garden, and where, by the loss of
that purchase, a new row of houses was erected, that overlooked the
King and Queen in their most domestic hours. And, as if non-compliance
with even his innocent pleasures was not sufficiently offensive,
that awkward man of ways and means, whom Nature had fitted for no
employment less than a courtier’s, fatigued the King with such nauseous
and endless harangues, that, lamenting being daily exposed to such a
political pedant, the King said to Lord Bute of Grenville, “When he has
wearied me for two hours, he looks at his watch to see if he may not
tire me for an hour more.”
The measure of these disgusts was filled up by the conduct of the
Ministers on the Bill of Regency; yet, though that conduct threw down
the sluice, the resolution had been taken before to discard them on
the first opportunity. When the Duke of Cumberland had waited on the
King, before setting out for Newmarket, his Majesty had vented himself
to his uncle on the uneasiness he felt from being in their hands,
and he must have felt before he chose that Prince for his confident.
At Newmarket, the Earl of Northumberland had private instructions to
continue the negotiation, and the Duke had listened with no unwilling
ear, as I have hinted before; yet he had been so over-prudent as not
to trust the secret to the chiefs of the Opposition, who, driven on
by Lord John Cavendish, had intemperately displayed their aversion to
the Princess and Favourite, while they had not the least suspicion
that the Duke was secretly paving the way for their return to Court.
Yet even that intemperate behaviour of the Cavendishes and their
friends could not deter the Court from the resolution of removing the
Ministers, whose crime appeared, as indeed it was, of a much blacker
dye. Indeed, those of the Opposition who had gone the greatest lengths,
were not of importance enough to make the Court lay aside its design.
The royal Junto depended on the support of the Duke of Cumberland, and
could not doubt but they might have Newcastle, whenever they called
for him: the rest of course must follow their leaders. But the Court
intended to avail itself of a still firmer support, and that was Mr.
Pitt’s, on whose easy compliance they depended too inconsiderately--and
with still greater inconsideration, they began to take the machine to
pieces, before they had made the common preparations for refitting it.
This rash conduct was probably inspired by the riot of the weavers,
which the Court regarded as the sense of the nation expressed against
the Administration. Had the King temporized, he might have dealt to
advantage with any faction he chose. By beginning with the dismission
of the Ministers, he exposed himself to the extravagant demands of all
who saw the dilemma to which he had reduced himself, and the necessity
he was under of submitting to some disagreeable set of men or other,
who were sure to make him purchase dearly a support that they knew he
wished not to accept at all.[130]