THE RISE AND FALL OF THE "FAVOURITE"
The great question that agitated English political society at the
accession of George III was, as a lady summed it up in a _bon-mot_,
"whether the new King would burn in his chamber _Scotch_ coal,
_Newcastle_ coal, or _Pitt_ coal." The curious were not long kept in a
state of suspense, for George showed at once that he was determined so
far as possible to be independent of ministers not of his own choosing;
and when, after his arrival in London, Pitt waited on him and presented
a paper on which were written a few sentences that the Great Commoner
thought the monarch should deliver at his first Council, the King, after
thanking Pitt for his consideration, said he had already prepared his
speech for that occasion.[141] This, as a matter of fact, he had done in
conjunction with Lord Bute, and at the meeting of the Council, although
at first somewhat embarrassed, he soon recovered his self-possession,
and delivered himself of the address.
[141] Galt: _George III, His Family and Court_.
[Illustration: _From an engraving after the painting by Allan Ramsay_
JOHN, EARL OF BUTE]
"The just concern which I have felt in my own breast on the sudden death
of the late King, my royal grandfather, makes me not doubt, but that
all have been deeply affected with so severe a loss. The present
critical and difficult conjuncture has made this loss the more sensible,
as he was the great support of that system by which alone the liberties
of Europe, and the weight and influence of these kingdoms can be
preserved, and give life to measures conducive to those important ends.
"I need not tell you the addition of weight which immediately falls upon
me, in being called to the government of this free and powerful country
at such a time, and under such circumstances. My consolation is in the
uprightness of my own intentions, your faithful and united assistance,
and the blessing of Heaven upon our joint endeavours, which I devoutly
implore.
"Born and educated in this country, I glory in the name of Briton; and
the peculiar happiness of my life will ever consist in promoting the
welfare of a people whose loyalty and warm affection to me I consider as
the greatest and most permanent security of my throne, and I doubt not
but this steadiness in those principles will equal the firmness of my
invariable resolution to adhere to, and strengthen this excellent
constitution in church and state, and to maintain the toleration
inviolable. The civil and religious rights of my loving subjects are
equally dear to me with the most valuable prerogatives of my crown; and
as the surest foundation of the whole, and the best means to draw down
the divine favour on my reign, it is my fixed purpose to countenance and
encourage the practice of true religion and virtue."[142]
[142] _London Gazette_, October 21, 1760.
The King's speech was well received throughout the country, although
there were many who agreed with ex-Lord Chancellor Hardwicke that the
since historic sentence, "Born and educated in this country, I glory in
the name of Briton," was, if not an insult, at least discourteous to his
last two predecessors, and the annoyance felt by some was not allayed
when it became known that Bute, so as to include Scotland, had altered
the "Englishman" of the first draft to "Briton" in the revised copy. To
this nine years later, Junius made reference in his address to the King.
"When you affectedly renounced the name of Englishman, believe me, Sir,
you were persuaded to pay a very ill-judged compliment to one part of
your subjects at the expense of another. While the natives of Scotland
are not in actual rebellion, they are undoubtedly entitled to
protection, nor do I mean to condemn the policy of giving some
encouragement to the novelty of their affections for the house of
Hanover. I am ready to hope for everything from their new-born zeal, and
from the future steadiness of their allegiance. But hitherto they have
no claim on your favour. To honour them with a determined predilection
and confidence, in exclusion of your English subjects who placed your
family, and, in spite of treachery and rebellion have supported it, upon
the throne, is a mistake too gross even for the unsuspecting generosity
of youth. In your error we see a capital violation of the most obvious
rules of policy and prudence. We trace it, however, to an original bias
in your education, and are ready to allow for your inexperience."
On the whole, however, the nation extended a hearty welcome to the young
King and on his accession he was undoubtedly popular. At least, English
was his native tongue, and this was the more agreeable because George II
had spoken it with a very broad German accent, Frederick, Prince of
Wales, on his arrival in England, knew but a few words of the language,
and George I had not understood it at all. "My father 'brushed up his
old Latin!' to use a phrase of Queen Elizabeth, in order to converse
with the first Hanoverian sovereign," Horace Walpole has told us, "and
ruled both kings in spite of their mistresses." Now, for the first time
for six and forty years, England boasted a sovereign whose interests
were not centred in Hanover, a young man, not a middle-aged reprobate
surrounded with women of sullied reputations: further, the dynasty was
more firmly established, and the Jacobite faction had dwindled in power
from a serious menace to an empty threat. George I had been confronted
with the Old Pretender, his successor had had to contend against the
Young Pretender; but George III, who had nothing to fear from the
Stuarts and their adherents, could increase his popularity by showing
some favour to the Tories, who during the previous reigns, owing to the
suspicions that they were attached to the Stuart interest, had been
tabooed.
So little fear, indeed, had the reigning dynasty for the representative
of that which preceded it, that though it was known Charles Edward was
in London at the time of the coronation, the government made no attempt
to secure his person. It is even recorded how that Prince, in answer to
an inquiry how he dared venture to show himself in London, stated that
he was very safe; and, indeed, this was the case, for his day had
passed, the Hanoverian dynasty had firmly established itself, and the
once magic name of Stuart now made no impression upon the nation. "Let
sleeping dogs lie," was in this case apparently the rule by which the
King and his advisers guided their conduct.[143]
[143] Nicholls: _Literary Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century_; and
other works.
It is generally believed that the Stuart Prince was present at the
coronation either incognito as Mr. Brown among the spectators on the
floor of the hall, or disguised in woman's attire in the gallery.
Indeed, more than one person claims to have seen him, and Lord Marshal
told David Hume how a friend of his, recognizing the Pretender, spoke to
him: "Your Royal Highness is the last of all mortals I should have
expected to see here." "It was curiosity that led me," replied the
visitor, who had come from Flanders to see the coronation; "but I assure
you that the person who is the object of all this pomp and magnificence
is the man I envy the least."
One of the first official acts of the King was to give his assent in
person to an act imposing an additional duty on heavy ales and beer, but
what anger this Bill evoked was directed against Bute, while the chorus
of praise that greeted the King's next move was given to him alone,
though it also was inspired by the favourite. After the Revolution,
judges held their offices for the reign of the sovereign who appointed
them, but at Bute's instigation a bill was introduced to secure their
posts to them for life. This was regarded as a most gracious and
constitutional measure, though according to Nicholls it was nothing of
the sort. "The courtiers of George III have trumpeted this conduct as a
singular mark of George III's disposition to diminish his power; but in
fact George III increased his power by this measure: having no dislike
to those whom he found in office, he had renewed their commissions. By
the statute which he thus procured to be enacted, he rendered those
judges whom he might appoint, irremovable by his successor; and thus,
instead of diminishing his power he increased it."[144] Indeed, even as
regards the graciousness of the act, a different complexion is placed
upon it by the same authority, who said it was devised "by those who had
most influence over the King" and desired to throw reproach on George
II, who on his accession had not granted commissions to those judges who
had offended him during his father's lifetime when he was in
opposition.[145] Johnson thought it a most impolitic measure. "There is
no reason," he said, "why a judge should hold his office for life more
than any other person in public trust. A judge may be partial otherwise
than to the Crown: we have seen judges partial to the populace. A judge
may be corrupt, and yet there may be no legal evidence against him. A
judge may become froward in age. A judge may grow unfit for his office
in many ways. It was desirable that there should be a possibility of
being delivered from him by a new king."[146] As a matter of fact, there
is no doubt that the measure was devised for popularity, and in this it
certainly succeeded.
[144] Nicholls: _Recollections and Reflections_.
[145] _Ibid._
[146] Boswell: _Life of Samuel Johnson_.
The favour the King thus won in the eyes of his subjects was later
increased by his surrendering, on Bute's advice, L700,000, the money
from the prizes taken before the declaration of war, which, by the Peace
of Paris, became the King's property; L200,000, the value of lands in
the ceded islands; and by his acceptance of the fixed income of
L800,000, to be paid out of the aggregate fund in lieu of the uncertain
funds which then made up the Civil List.[147] Yet another thing
contributed to the King's popularity, for, when, as the law then stood,
Parliament dissolved six months after the royal demise, it became known
that George III had instructed his ministry that no money should be
spent in endeavours to secure the election of members favourable to the
Court, saying "I will be tried by my country"--a sentence that was
commemorated by an obscure rhymester.
"Tried by your country! To your people's love,
Amiable prince, so soon appeal;
Stay till the tender sentiments improve,
Ripening to gratitude from zeal.
Years hence (yet, ah! too soon) shall Britain see
The trial of thy virtue past;
Who could believe that your first wish would be
What all believe will be your last."[148]
[147] "The hereditary revenues, being put under the same management as
the other branches of the public patrimony, will produce more and be
better collected than heretofore; and the public is a gainer of upwards
of L100,000 per annum by this disinterested bounty of his
Majesty."--Blackstone's _Commentaries_.
[148] _The New Foundling Hospital for Wit._
A rift in the lute showed itself very soon, for almost immediately after
the accession of George III, the ascendancy of Lord Bute was displayed
in so many ways that it became obvious to all observers. There was some
surprise when the name of the Duke of Cumberland was struck out of the
liturgy, and a great deal of indignation when the favourite was made
Ranger of Richmond Park in the place of Princess Amelia, who, Huish
says, "was literally turned out;" but the indignation of the latter was
certainly misplaced, for the Princess resigned the post as the result of
a quarrel about a right of way with the townsfolk of Richmond. From the
beginning of the new reign the City of London was suspicious of Lord
Bute, and that powerful corporation was at no pains to disguise its
feelings. "The City have a mind to be out of humour; a paper has been
fixed in the Royal Exchange with these words--'No Government! No Scotch
Minister! No Lord George Sackville'[149]--two hints totally unfounded,
and the other scarce true. No petticoat ever governed less; it is left
at Leicester House--for the King himself, he seems all good nature, and
wishing to satisfy everybody; all his speeches are obliging. I saw him
on the throne, where he's all graceful and genteel; sits with dignity,
and reads his answers to addresses well."[150] So Horace Walpole wrote
early in November, 1760; but it must be admitted that that usually keen
observer did not display his usual prescience, for the "Scotch Minister"
might have been sighted on the political horizon.
[149] George Sackville Germaine (1716-1785), son of the seventh Earl and
first Duke of Dorset, was known from 1720 to 1770 as Lord George
Sackville, and from then as Lord George Germaine, until 1782, when he
was raised to the peerage as Viscount Sackville.
[150] Walpole: _Memoirs of George II_.
Indeed, almost at once negotiations were set on foot to place Bute at
the head of affairs. "Lord Bute came to me by appointment, and stayed a
great while," Dodington records so early in the new reign as November
29, 1760. "I pressed him much to take the Secretary's office, and
provide otherwise for Lord Holdernesse; he hesitated for some time, and
then said, if that was the only difficulty, it would be easily removed,
for Lord Holdernesse was ready at his desire to quarrel with his
fellow-ministers (on account of the slights and ill-usage which he had
daily experienced), and go to the King, and throw up in seeming anger,
and then he (Bute) might come in without seeming to displace
anybody."[151] Bute required little persuasion to accept office, for his
desire was to displace the Prime Minister and reign in his stead, and
his object was so little disguised that when some time before he had
been congratulated upon his appointment as Groom of the Stole to the
then Prince of Wales, he had replied, he could feel no pleasure while
the Duke of Newcastle was Minister.
[151] Bubb Dodington: _Diary_.
The King threw the full weight of his influence into the scale in Bute's
favour, and at the end of January, 1761, the Duke of Newcastle told the
Marquis of Rockingham, "We have received a message from the King, of
great importance; he wishes that the Earl of Holdernesse may resign the
place of Secretary of State for the Northern Department, and receive in
lieu of it the Wardenship of the Cinque Ports, and that the Earl of Bute
may be appointed Secretary of State for the Northern Department, in
place of the Earl of Holdernesse."[152] An animated discussion followed
the royal message. Lord Hardwicke was in favour of carrying out the
King's wish, on the ground that this was the first instance in which the
King had interfered in the nomination of ministers, and that resistance
might excite ill-will towards the present holders of office; but the
Marquis of Rockingham, who realized it was the King's ultimate intention
to dismiss the existing Cabinet, urged his colleagues to consider how,
if they admitted in February, 1761, that the Earl of Bute was fit to be
a Secretary of State, they could say in the following year he was not
fit to be Prime Minister.[153] In the end, however, Lord Holdernesse
retired in favour of Lord Bute.
[152] Nicholls: _Recollections and Reflections_.
[153] Nicholls: _Recollections and Reflections_.
This, as Lord Rockingham had foreseen, was regarded by the King as a
first step only: he was not content with having placed Bute in the
Ministry, he desired to make him Prime Minister. To achieve this object,
however, it was necessary to get rid of Pitt, and in this the King had
the assistance of the Duke of Newcastle, who scarcely felt himself the
chief of the administration that bore his name so long as Pitt, with his
great talents and reputation, was in the Ministry. An opportunity soon
presented itself. When Pitt, hearing of the "Family Compact" between
France and Spain in August, 1761, desired to withdraw the British
Ambassador from Madrid, his proposal, supported by Lord Temple and
James Grenville, was overruled by Henry Fox, George Grenville, Lord
Hardwicke, the Duke of Bedford,[154] and Lord Bute. Finding his
influence declining, he threatened to resign, a course that was
represented to the King as dangerous to the common weal, "I am
determined not to be the only slave in a country," the monarch declared,
"where it is my wish to see all the people free." When Pitt found his
colleagues had formed a cabal with the object to compel him to retire
and that he was powerless to overcome their opposition, he and Lord
Temple tendered their resignation on October 5 to the King. The King
received Pitt graciously, courteously expressed his regrets at the loss
of so able a minister (whom he had assisted to drive from office),
expressed approval of the views of his remaining ministers, and in
conclusion offered the bestowal of any rewards in the power of the
Crown. "I confess, Sire," it is recorded that Pitt replied, overcome by
the monarch's kindness, "I had but too much reason to expect your
Majesty's displeasure. I did not come prepared for this exceeding
goodness; pardon me, Sire, it overpowers, oppresses me." Then, the
chroniclers agree, the Great Commoner burst into tears, but before he
left the royal presence he had accepted a peerage for his wife and a
pension for two lives of L3,000 a year. "It is difficult to say,"
Walpole remarked, "which exulted most on the occasion, France, Spain, or
Lord Bute, for Mr. Pitt was the common enemy of all three."
[154] John Russell, fourth Duke of Bedford (1710-1771).
The behaviour of Pitt's colleagues was resented by the public, and the
Corporation of London passed a vote of thanks to the ex-minister, while
many who had seen an evil omen in the falling of a large jewel from the
crown during the coronation, now declared that their fear had been
fulfilled.
"When first, portentous, it was known,
Great George had jostled from his crown
The brightest diamond there;
The omen-mongers, one and all,
Foretold some mischief must befall,
Some loss beyond compare.
Some fear this gem is Hanover,
Whilst others wish to God it were;
Each strives the nail to hit
One guesses that, another this,
All mighty wise, yet all amiss;
For, ah! who thought of Pitt?"[155]
[155] Another verse, with a similar allusion, is given in _The New
Foundling Hospital for Wit_.
"Ne'er yet in vain did Heaven its omen send;
Some dreadful ills unusual signs portend!
When Pitt resign'd, a nation's tears will own,
'Then fell the brightest jewel in the crown.'"
On the other hand, caricaturists and pamphleteers in the pay of Bute
exulted in cartoon and verse at the downfall of the Great Commoner, and
poured scorn on him for accepting favours at the King's hands.
"Three thousand a year's no contemptible thing
To accept from the hands of a patriot king,
(With thanks, to the bargain, for service and merit),
Which he, wife and son, all three shall inherit
With limited honours to _her_ and _her heirs_.
So farewell to old England. _Adieu to all cares._"[156]
[156] Besides the lampooners attached to each side there were various
unscrupulous journalistic free-lances, whose object was only to make
money, which they extorted by a method since imitated by certain editors
of low-class society and financial papers. Thus a writer went with a
column of panegyric and a column of condemnation of the character of
Alderman Beckford, and attempted to levy blackmail for the destruction
of the objectionable article. Only too often in such cases, both
appreciation and attack were sold and duly appeared in antagonistic
publications.
So persistent were the attacks made upon Pitt by Bute's henchmen, who
distorted almost out of recognition the story of his resignation, that
the ex-minister thought it advisable to meet the misrepresentation by
stating the facts in a letter to one of his supporters:--
"Finding, to my great surprise, that the cause and manner of my
resigning the seals is grossly misrepresented in the city, as well as
that the most gracious and spontaneous remarks of his Majesty's
approbation of my services, which marks followed my resignation, have
been infamously traduced as a bargain for my forsaking the public, I am
under the necessity of declaring the truth of both those facts, in a
manner which, I am sure, no gentleman will contradict. A difference of
opinion with regard to measures to be taken against Spain, of the
highest importance to the honour of the Crown, and to the most essential
national interests (and this, founded on what Spain has already done,
not on what that court may further intend to do) was the cause of my
resigning the seals. Lord Temple and I submitted, in writing, and signed
by us, our most humble sentiments to his Majesty; which being overruled
by the united opinion of all the rest of the King's servants, I resigned
the seals on the 5th of this month, in order not to remain responsible
for measures which I was no longer able to guide. Most gracious public
marks of his Majesty's approbation followed my resignation. They are
unmerited and unsolicited, and I shall ever be proud to have received
them from the best of sovereigns."
Pitt's popularity was shown on the Lord Mayor's Day following his
resignation when the King, who had been married only two months, went
with his Consort in state to the City to dine at the Guildhall. "Men's
hopes and fears are strongly agitated at this critical juncture,"
Alderman Beckford[157] wrote to Pitt; "but all agree universally that
you ought to make your appearance at Guildhall on Monday next with Lord
Temple; and, upon the maturest reflection, I am clear you ought not to
refuse this favour by those who are so sincerely your friends."[158] To
this solicitation, backed by the advice of Lord Temple, Pitt yielded,
though, as he afterwards admitted, against his better judgment.[159] The
King and Queen were received indifferently, Bute was saved from violence
only by his guard of prize-fighters, ministers were greeted with cries
of "No Newcastle salmon!" but Pitt was welcomed with the greatest
enthusiasm, and the mob, a contemporary noted, "clung about every part
of the vehicle, hung upon the wheels, hugged his footmen, and even
kissed his horses." Though this occurred so early in the reign, it
showed a marked difference to the feeling aroused by the King's
accession,[160] and it is not to be wondered at that the sovereign, when
he referred to this visit to the City, spoke of "the abominable conduct
of Mr. Pitt" in joining the procession.
[157] William Beckford (1709-1770), Lord Mayor of London 1762 and 1769.
[158] _Chatham Correspondence._
[159] "My old friend was once a skilful courtier; but, since he himself
has attained a kind of royalty, he seems more attentive to support his
own majesty than to pay the necessary regard to that of his
sovereign."--Lord Lyttelton.
[160] "The day the King went to the House [of Lords] I was three
quarters of an hour getting through Whitehall. There were subjects
enough to set up half-a-dozen petty kings; the Pretender would be proud
to reign over the footmen alone, and indeed, unless he acquires some of
them, he will have no subjects left; all their masters flock to St.
James's."--Horace Walpole.
Lord Egremont took Pitt's place, and the Duke of Newcastle made no
secret of his delight and relief at having ridded his Cabinet of so
overshadowing a subordinate; but the Duke's joy was at least premature,
since, as he might have foreseen, the loss of Pitt so greatly weakened
the Ministry that within a few months the King was able to remove from
the direction of affairs that nobleman of whom George II had said, "He
loses an hour every morning, and is running after it the rest of the
day," and whom George III now treated with scarcely veiled contempt.
"For myself I am the greatest cipher that ever walked at Court. The
young King is hardly civil to me, talks to me of nothing, scarcely
answers me upon my own Treasury affairs," the Prime Minister wrote on
November 7, 1760: and about the same time he complained that, with one
exception, he could not remember a single recommendation of his which
had taken place since the accession.[161]
[161] _Hardwicke Papers, Bedford Correspondence._
Bute, however, gave the minister the _coup de grace_ when the latter
strongly advocated the appointment of a certain clergyman to the
Archbishopric of York. "If your Grace has so high an opinion of him,"
said he, "why did you not promote him _when you had the power_?" This
was the last straw, and the Duke of Newcastle resigned on May 26, 1762,
when Lord Bute became First Lord of the Treasury, with Lord Egremont and
George Grenville as Secretaries of State, the incapable and worthless
Sir Francis Dashwood,[162] as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Henry Fox
as Leader of the House of Commons. The Admiralty, after the death of
Lord Anson, was offered to Lord Halifax[163] who, aspiring to be a
Secretary of State, declined the office, and persisted in his refusal
until Lord Bute assured him that next to the Treasury it was the most
_lucrative_ post on the Administration. A humorous description of this
incident is given in the "Fables for Grown Gentlemen."
"Close by a kitchen fire, a dog and a cat,
Each a famous politician,
Were meditating as they sat,
Plans and projects of ambition.
By the same fire were set to warm
Fragments of their master's dinner;
Temptations to alarm
The frailty of a sinner.
Clear prurient water streamed from Pompey's jaws,
And Tabby looked demure, and lick'd her paws;
And as two Plenipo's
For fear of a surprise,
When both have something to propose
Examine one another's eyes;
Or like two maids, though smit by different swains,
In jealous conference o'er a dish of tea,
Pompey and Tabby both cudgelled their brains
Studying each other's physiognomy.
Pompey endow'd with finer sense,
Discovered in a cast of Tabby's face,
A symptom of concupiscence
Which made it a clear case
When straight applying to the dawning passion,
Pompey addressed her in this fashion:
'Both you and I, with vigilance and zeal,
Becoming faithful dogs, and pious cats,
Have guarded day and night this commonweal
From robbery and rats.
All that we get for this, heaven knows,
Is a few bones and many blows;
Let us no longer fawn and whine,
Since we have talents and are able,
Let us impose an equitable fine
Upon our master's table;
And, to be brief,
Let us each choose a single dish,
I'll be contented with roast beef,
Take you that turbot--you love fish.'
Thus every dog and cat agrees,
When they can settle their own fees.
Thus two contending chiefs are seen
To agree at last in every measure:
One takes the management of the marine,
The other of the nation's treasure."
[162] Sir Francis Dashwood, afterwards fifteenth Baron le Despencer
(1708-1781).
Dashwood was under no misapprehension as to his unsuitability for the
post. "People will point at me in the streets and cry, 'There goes the
worst Chancellor of the Exchequer that ever appeared,'" he said; and he
wrote to Sir Andrew Mitchell on March 23, 1761: "The same strange
fortune which made me Secretary-at-war five years and a half ago, has
made me Chancellor of the Exchequer. It may, perhaps, at last make me
Pope. I think I am equally fit to be the head of the Church as of the
Exchequer."
[163] George Montague Dunk, second Earl of Halifax (1716-1771).
"The new Administration begins tempestuously," Horace Walpole remarked.
"My father was not more abused after twenty years than Bute after twenty
days. Weekly papers swarm and, like other insects, sting." The feeling
against Lord Bute was indeed so great that Dr. Dempster became a popular
hero for preaching on December 21, 1760, before the King from Esther
_v._: "Yet all this availeth nothing, so long as I see Mordecai the Jew
sitting at the King's gate"; and caricatures of "Mordecai at the King's
gate" were immediately after to be seen in all the print-shops
throughout the country; but now Bute was Prime Minister his unpopularity
reached its zenith. He was hooted, and sometimes pelted, by the mob: at
times even there can be no doubt his life was endangered by the fury of
the populace. All England was amused by the story of Miss Chudleigh's
retort to her royal mistress, the Princess Dowager, who had administered
a rebuke to the maid of honour after the latter had appeared very
undressed as Iphigenia at a masked ball at Somerset House: "_Votre
Altesse Royale sait que chacune a son_--BUT."[164] Numerous cartoons
circulated showing the Princess Dowager and Lord Bute, the latter always
wearing a red petticoat, supposed to have been found under very
suspicious circumstances; while lampoons were issued in considerable
numbers and one enjoyed exceptional popularity: "A letter to her Royal
Highness the Princess Dowager of Wales with a word or two concerning
Lord Bute and the Talk of the World," with the motto:
"Hence have the talkers of this populous city
A shameful tale to tell for public sport."
Although this scandal was in full cry, it was not that which set every
man's hand against the minister, but his inordinate craving for power he
was ill-qualified to wield. "Bute made himself immediately Secretary of
State, Knight of the Garter,[165] and Privy Purse: he gave an English
peerage to his wife; and the reversion of a very lucrative employment
for life to his eldest son," Chesterfield complained. "He placed and
displaced whom he pleased; gave peerages without number, and pensions
without bounds; by those means he proposed to make his ground secure for
the permanency of his power."[166] Bute, however, did not sit down
quietly under the many attacks of which he was the subject, but
responded to his enemies through his band of hired literary bravos. "I
am beset with a host of scribblers, and I must acknowledge that I can
discern great talent in some of their productions," he wrote in
February, 1761. "The fire must not be allowed to spread too far, or I
know not where its devastations will end. I am at a loss at present how
to stem the tide of popularity which sets in at present so strongly
against the court party. The King is much disposed at times to break out
very violently in his objections to certain measures, but I hope I shall
succeed eventually.... Pitt got the better of me in the [debate on the]
Speech which his Majesty delivered from the throne, in which, as you
will have read, he is made to declare that he is determined to carry on
the war with vigour. We have it now in agitation to make him say quite
the contrary, for we are resolved to have a peace.... I am informed of a
work which is now in the press, entitled _Le Montagnard Parvenu_, of
which I contrive to obtain the sheets as they are printed. The author
knows more than I wish him to know; he must have been oftener behind the
curtain than I suspected; it must be met by corresponding talent; the
King must not see it.... I am, however, by no means without literary
talent on my side; most of _our_ best authors are wholly devoted to me,
and I have laid the foundation for gaining Robertson,[167] by employing
him for the King, in writing the history of England; he must be
pensioned."[168]
[164] "Miss Chudleigh's dress or rather undress was remarkable. She was
Iphigenia for the sacrifice, but so naked the high priest might easily
inspect the entrails of the victim. The maids of honour, not of maids
the strictest, were so offended that they would not speak to her."--Mrs.
Montague's _Letters_.
[165]
"O Bute! If, instead of contempt, and of odium,
You wish to obtain universal eulogium,
From your breast to your gullet transfer the blue string,
Our hearts are all yours at the very first swing."
_The New Foundling Hospital for Wit._
[166] _Letters of Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield._
[167] William Robertson, historian (1721-1793).
[168] Huish: _Public and Private Life of George the Third_.
Some credit is due to Bute for his patronage of literature. He pensioned
Robertson, and John Home, the author of the play, "Douglas," which is
now remembered only by the passage beginning "My name is Norval," and
Mallet,[169] Murphy,[170] Macpherson,[171] Tobias Smollett and Dr.
Johnson, to the last of whom it was stated specifically that the award
was made, "not for anything you are to do, but for what you have
done."[172] But if in some cases a pension was bestowed for merit, and
for merit alone, these were the exception, for bribery was as much
employed by Bute as it had been by Walpole, and once again the
Paymaster's office was the _rendezvous_ for those Members of Parliament
whose votes were for sale.[173]
[169] David Mallet (1705?-1765), the author of some poems and tragedies,
was for some time assistant-secretary to Frederick, Prince of Wales.
[170] Arthur Murphy (1727-1805), the biographer of Garrick, and the
editor of the works of Fielding and Johnson.
[171] James Macpherson (1736-1796), the alleged translator of Ossianic
poems.
[172] "I have taken care to have it in my power to refute these
malicious stories, from the most authentic information. Lord Bute told
me that Mr. Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Loughborough, was the person who
first mentioned this subject to him. Lord Loughborough told me that the
pension was granted to Johnson solely as the reward of his literary
merit, without any stipulation whatever, or even tacit understanding,
that he should write for the Administration. His Lordship added that he
was confident the political tracts which Johnson afterwards did write,
as they were entirely consonant with his own opinions, would have been
written by him though no pension had been granted to him."--Boswell:
_Life of Samuel Johnson_.
[173] The records contain the following entries: October, 1760, to
October, 1761, to John, Earl of Bute, for his Majesty's Privy Purse,
L48,000; for Secret Service during the same period, L95,000. October,
1761, to October, 1762, to John, Earl of Bute, for his Majesty's Privy
Purse, L48,000; for Secret Service during the same period, L72,000.
This, however, is but a tithe of what was spent when Bute was in power,
and the additional expenditure was distributed under different headings
in the accounts of the various departments of state.
Bute came into power determined to bring about a peace, but he found it
impossible forthwith to achieve his object, and, indeed, as Pitt had
prophesied, he was compelled to declare war against Spain. He was much
chagrined at having to act in direct violation of his wishes, but the
war, which was as popular as it was successful, might in some degree
have consoled him, had not the country given the credit to Pitt, who,
before leaving office, had made preparations for the campaign. On
December 22, 1762, the preliminaries of peace were discussed in the
House of Commons, when Pitt, though suffering agonies from gout,
appeared, his leg swathed in flannel, to protest against the treaty, the
terms of which aroused general dissatisfaction, and it was declared
that the Duke of Bedford, the English negotiator, had sold his country,
and that the Princess Dowager and the Prime Minister had shared in the
spoil. "Your patrons wanted an Ambassador who would submit to make
concessions without daring to insist upon any honourable condition for
his sovereign," said Junius. "Their business required a man who had as
little feeling for his own dignity as for the welfare of his country;
and they found him in the first rank of the nobility. Belleisle, Goree,
Guadaloupe, St. Louis, Martinique, the Fishery, and Havana are glorious
monuments of your Grace's talents for negotiation. My Lord, we are too
well acquainted with your pecuniary character to think it possible that
so many public sacrifices should be made without some private
compensation. Your conduct carries with it an internal evidence beyond
all the legal proofs of a court of justice."[174] The House of Commons,
however, signified its approval of the treaty by 319 to 65 votes;
whereupon the Princess Dowager exclaimed in triumph: "Now my son _is_
King of England."[175] The King was delighted, the Queen gave a ball in
honour of the victory of the Court, and Bute declared that he wished for
no other epitaph than one in which he should be described as the
adviser of this peace--which prompted an unkind epigram:
"Say, when will England be from faction freed?
When will domestic quarrels cease?
Ne'er till that wished-for epitaph we read,
'Here lies the man that made the peace.'"
[174] Letter to the Duke of Bedford, Sept. 19, 1769.
[175] Walpole: _Memoirs of George III_.
The cyder tax, which Bute forced through Parliament to defray the heavy
expenses of the negotiations for peace, threw even his previous
unpopularity into insignificance, and his endeavours to persuade the
City of London not to present a petition against the tax, by promising
to repeal it the next year, was met with the reply, "My Lord, we know
not that you will be minister next year." To the general surprise,
Bute's resignation was announced on April 3, 1763, when with him retired
Fox, who entered the Upper House as Baron Holland, and Dashwood, who
succeeded his uncle as Baron le Despencer.
Bute's resignation was said by his friends to be the natural sequence of
his policy, and to have been determined before he accepted the seals of
office. The noble patriot, so his henchmen insisted, had seen his
country wasted by a pernicious, unnecessary war, and he had secured the
office of prime minister in order to, and solely in order to, achieve
peace. This done, they continued, his self-imposed task was complete,
and he withdrew from public affairs, "without place or pension,
disdaining to touch those tempting spoils which lay at his feet."[176]
These reasons for the surrender of office cannot, in the light of
present knowledge, be accepted. Bute retired owing to dissension in his
Cabinet. Indeed, for this there is his own admission. "Single in a
cabinet of my own forming; no aid in the House of Lords to support me,
except two peers [Lords Denbigh and Pomfret]; both the Secretaries of
State silent; and the Lord Chief Justice, whom I myself brought into
office, voting for me, yet speaking against me; the ground I tread upon
is so hollow, that I am afraid, not only of falling myself, but of
involving my Royal Master in my ruin. It is time for me to retire."[177]
[176] _Letter from a Gentleman in Town to his Friend in the Country,
occasioned by a late resignation._
[177] Adolphus: _History of England_.
The failings of Lord Bute have already been discussed, and in taking
leave of him some mention must be made of his good qualities. It has
been said that his besetting fault was a lust of power, his great
weakness inability to use the power which his intrigues secured him; but
he was a good husband, a kind father, and, what more concerns the
public, a brave man, for he faced exceptional unpopularity without
flinching, and, according to his lights, honest. It would be
objectionable to say to-day of a living English statesman that he was
honest in financial matters, for it is inconceivable that any other
would be tolerated; but it must not be forgotten that the tone of
political men was then very different. In Bute's day gross immorality
was no bar to employment in the highest offices of state, nor was overt
dishonesty a disqualification. We have seen how Lord Halifax was
persuaded to accept the Admiralty because of the opportunities to
acquire wealth, and it is notorious that the great and able Henry Fox
accumulated a vast fortune during his tenure of office of
Paymaster-General. Dashwood, who, according to Walpole, was a vulgar
fool, who "with the familiarity and phrase of a fishwife, introduced the
humours of Wapping behind the veil of the Treasury," was a thoroughly
vicious scoundrel; Rigby, whose accusers have exhausted the terms of
vituperation, was also a Paymaster-General, and left half-a-million of
money; Grafton, a great-grandson of Charles II by the Duchess of
Cleveland, was a notorious profligate. The list might be continued until
it embraced a large proportion of the politicians on both sides. No
reproach of this sort clings to Bute, who did not for himself
appropriate public monies, and if the cynic contends that this was
because he had no temptation to be dishonest, having married a wife who
brought him L25,000 a year and nearly a quarter of a million in the
funds, the fact must not be ignored that many of those who plunged their
hands into the country's purse were possessed of greater wealth.
[Illustration: _From a drawing by Jno. Smith_
WINDSOR CASTLE]