1806,
parliament was opened by commission; but the usual address was omitted,
on account of the absence of the minister, who, as before stated, was
then seriously indisposed.
On the 23rd of January, Mr. Pitt expired, in the forty-seventh year of
his age. He was said to have died insolvent. Be this as it may, forty
thousand pounds were voted as a plea to discharge his debts, as well as
means to defray the expenses of his funeral! Probably this was the best
laid-out money of the ministry for some time past. If the occasion had
occurred twenty years before, what an immense saving it had produced the
country!
The public life of Mr. Pitt will afford no room for praise to the
faithful and just historian. When the errors and praises of his
biographers shall have lost their force, future generations will behold
his character in its native colours. He must then appear either in the
light of an ungrateful hypocrite, or submit to the only alternative of
being reckoned a man of contracted mind. Even in private life, he was
not more amiable nor exemplary. The ministerial system which he had laid
down pervaded the internal economy of all his actions. He appeared to
imagine true dignity consisted in a coolness and reserve, (probably
acquired from his queen) that banished every suitor from his presence;
nor did he ever suffer a case of distress, however just or pressing the
claims might be, to divert him from the routine of office, or to extort
the least relief or comfort from himself. Negligent and careless in his
domestic concerns, he never permitted a single ray of generosity to
burst forth to animate the general frost of his character. He retained
his natural sullenness and reserve; even in the best moments of
convivial mirth, he never displayed a flexibility of disposition, or an
openness to conviction. Often as he was obliged to submit to the decrees
of necessity, whereon he imagined his continuance in office depended,
yet he never had the candour to acknowledge the weakness of any measure,
originating in himself, that brought on that necessity. But what a
departure was this from the principles of his illustrious ancestor, the
Earl of Chatham, who would never crouch to the authority of any
sovereign or cabinet, when militating against his own more enlightened
judgment. He resisted bribery, and generally succeeded in his views, or,
if baffled, resigned his office. The son of this nobleman, however,
pursued far different maxims, and pertinaciously clung to the douceurs
and infamy of office; for _infamous_ it most certainly was, to practice
measures his own sentiments condemned. Never did man accede to power on
more just or noble principles, and never did man forsake those
principles with less reserve. He forgot all obligations, and at a happy
crisis, when he might have availed himself of the occasion of honorably
fulfilling them, in advancing the liberty and happiness of the country,
he was eternally launching out into vapid and unmeaning encomiums on
the boasted excellencies of the British constitution, instead of
adhering to his solemn contract, of exerting all his influence and
abilities to reform its blemishes. With all the failings of this
minister, his caution and plausibility were admirably calculated to
entrap the confidence of the landed and monied interest, and he turned
it to the best account, labouring with all his zeal to inculcate a
belief of the flourishing state of the national finances, enforcing
every circumstance tending to confirm this belief, and concealing every
truth that would serve to diminish or destroy it. Will not such a man,
then, be regarded by posterity as a time-server and an apostate?
After the death of Mr. Pitt, Mr. Fox joined the ministry; and, at the
same time, Lord Sidmouth continued a member of the cabinet! But Mr. Fox
did not retain his situation long. His health soon after declined, and
he died on the 13th of September following.
Of this great statesman, we may say, "take him for all in all, we ne'er
shall look upon his like again." He was an unbending patriot; possessed
of great political ability, and loved, as well as advocated, the cause
of LIBERTY. Light and shade, however, were mixed in Mr. Fox's picture.
He permitted private friendship, in one instance, to over-balance his
public duty. We refer to the language used by him in the House of
Commons, in April, 1787, which must have been against his conscience. He
there _denied_ the marriage between the Prince of Wales and Mrs.
Fitzherbert, when, in fact, _he assisted at that very marriage_; but,
because he had engaged secrecy to the prince, he thought proper to utter
a direct falsehood rather than break his promise upon the subject!
Mr. Pitt's death was an unpleasant consequence to the usurping queen,
and perhaps impelled the ardour of her determination to get her
favourite son's divorce from his injured wife settled as soon as
possible. The scheme for this purpose, which seemed most practicable,
was the obtaining some document as evidence _against the moral character
of the princess_. By the queen's express desire, therefore, Lady Douglas
had removed her abode, nearly six years previously, close to Blackheath,
and was purposely employed to invent some dishonourable report against
the princess.
The Princess of Wales accidentally and innocently (on her part) became
acquainted with this lady, and from that period no pains were spared, on
the part of Lady Douglas and her husband, to increase that acquaintance,
until their diabolical object should be attained. The most assiduous
attentions and extravagant pains were used to entrap the generous mind
of the princess; but as the object in view proved of a very difficult
nature, so did the means for its accomplishment become equally numerous.
This intimacy commenced in 1801, and terminated in 1804; and during that
period did these base designing slanderers and ungrateful guests, by
secret application, obtain an opportunity to vilify, outrage, and
insult the princess, in connexion with _nearly_ every branch of the
royal family, who were too closely united in one general interest not to
assist each other.
The only patriotic members, the Dukes of Kent and Sussex, appeared much
wrought upon by the specious and abominable fabrication brought forward
by these unprincipled, time-serving, and heartless enemies of Caroline.
Although their statements and depositions were taken so fully, and
examined so closely,--although the prince pursued the subject with such
unfeeling barbarity,--yet the princess was acquitted, most honourably
acquitted. Indeed, to any rational inquirer, the wickedness of the
Douglas statement was, beyond doubt, most palpable. It was full of
improbabilities, of contradictions, and absurdities, which well merited
punishment. Had a similar insult or a flagrant transgression been
offered to the royal family in the person of any _other than the
Princess of Wales_, would not the whole royal phalanx, headed by the
queen, have arisen in defence of their _illustrious_ and _virtuous_
house? Nay, would not the insulting falsehoods and infamous assertions
have been proved treasonable? Yes, undoubtedly; but, because the injured
Princess of Wales was the INTENDED VICTIM OF A CONSPIRACY, although so
gloriously acquitted, yet no prosecution of her traducers followed;
neither did any branch of the royal family exemplify one pleasurable
feeling upon the conclusion of this disgracefully-iniquitous business!
Their chagrin was much more evident!
As if in this year a deluge of sadness and sorrow, in addition to all
other trials and injuries, were to fall upon the persecuted Caroline,
she had to suffer the heavy and irreparable loss of her father, William,
Duke of Brunswick, at the memorable battle of Jena, October 14th, in the
seventy-first year of his age.
The character of the venerable Duke of Brunswick is beyond praise; "his
NAME shall be his _monument_!" If at any period the Princess of Wales
needed the kind and soothing balm of friendship, it was at this trying
juncture. Her friends were few in number, and their friendship was of an
evanescent description. They sometimes professed their readiness to
serve her, and eulogised her greatness of mind and talent; yet, when
brought to the point by public opinion and inquiry, they very generally
expressed their sentiments _equivocally_, or with some portion of
hesitation calculated to injure, rather than benefit, the cause they
professed to serve. Mr. Canning and Mr. Whitbread were two of these
_particular_ kind of friends, as our after history will abundantly
testify.
How wretched must have been the Princess Charlotte at this period, who
was nearly deprived of all communication with her affectionate mother,
and without one friend to whom she could freely speak of her sorrows and
anxious wishes!