CHAPTER VI

THE COALITION

Of all the public characters of this devoted country (Mr. Pitt

alone excepted) there is not a man who has, or who deserves, the

nation’s confidence.--ROMILLY _21st March 1783_.

In politics, as in war, victories sometimes prove to be more disastrous

than defeats. When triumph lures a leader on into ever increasing

difficulties, he may well rue his seeming good fortune; while,

on the other hand, the retreat of his opponents may lessen their

responsibilities, and, by enabling them to concentrate, double the

strength of their next blow.

Such was the case with Fox and Pitt. Fox’s triumph over the former was

seen by discerning friends to be of the Pyrrhic kind. He owed it to an

unprincipled alliance, and for it he threw away the support of public

opinion. Pitt, on the other hand, fell gloriously, fighting strenuously

for terms of peace which, in the nature of things, his successors could

not sensibly ameliorate. Accordingly, events worked for him and against

the victors. Only a well organized party can resist the wear and tear

of parliamentary strife; and it lay in the nature of things that greed

of place and pension--to say nothing of political differences--should

sunder these hungry and unprincipled groups.

But while the voice of prudence counselled delay, missives from Windsor

urgently requested Pitt to assume the supreme command of the beaten

host. Well might the King be insistent. In the young statesman, and

in him alone, could he discern a possible saviour from the two-headed

monster of the Coalition. As usual, he viewed the crisis from a purely

personal point of view. In a characteristic letter to Shelburne he

said nothing on the wider issues that were at stake, still less did he

vouchsafe a word of thanks for his valuable services; but he deplored

his own lot in having to reign in a most profligate age, and declared

once more that he would never submit to the Coalition.

It seems probable that the credit of advising the choice of Pitt as the

new Prime Minister rests with Shelburne. Certainly the idea did not

originate with Henry Dundas, as he afterwards claimed; for on Monday

morning, 24th February 1783, Dundas wrote to Shelburne as follows:

MY DEAR LORD,

I cannot refrain from troubling your Lordship with a few lines

upon a subject of the most serious importance; and the particular

ground of my addressing you arises from the words which dropped

from you yesterday morning relative to Mr. Pitt. I did not pay

much attention to them when you uttered them, but I have revolved

them seriously and candidly in the course of the day yesterday,

and I completely satisfied my own mind that, young as he is, the

appointment of him to the Government of the country is the only

step that can be taken in the present moment attended with the most

distant chance of rearing up the Government of this country....

He is perfectly new ground, against whom no opposition can arise

except what may be expected from the desperation of that lately

allied faction, which I am satisfied will likewise gradually

decline till at last it will consist only of that insolent

aristocratical band who assume to themselves the prerogative of

appointing the rulers of the kingdom. I repeat it again that I am

certain the experiment will succeed if His Majesty will try it.[148]

HENRY DUNDAS.

The King warmly welcomed Shelburne’s suggestion, sent for Pitt, and

urged him to form a Ministry on his own terms. The young statesman,

far from succumbing to the glamour of the moment, at once foresaw

the difficulties of the proposal, and requested time for reflection.

Dundas sat up with him through that night, going through the names of

members of the House, and calculating the chances of adequate support.

In a letter which Pitt wrote to his mother on the 25th, he speaks of

the question as turning on that of numbers in the House. On the next

day and the morning of the 27th he seemed ready to accept the King’s

offer, on the strength of an assurance given by Dundas that Lord North

would not actively oppose him. But on the afternoon of that day he laid

before the King his reasons for declining the proposal.

The interview was long and earnest. It marked the beginning of that

contest of wills which only ceased with life itself. The King strove

hard to gain for his service the only man of note who stood between him

and the new Coalition. He plied the young Minister with every possible

argument.

Nothing [so the King wrote to Shelburne on that day] could get

him to depart from the ground he took, that nothing less than a

moral certainty of a majority in the House of Commons could make

him undertake the task; for that it would be dishonourable not to

succeed, if attempted; all I could obtain was that he should again

try, but as fixed a declaration that, if he cannot meet with what

he thinks certainty, he shall decline.[149]

We could wish to know more about this interview and to follow the

mental wrestling of the Sovereign with the young barrister. Rarely,

except perhaps from Chatham, had George III met with so firm a resolve

not to accept office; and we may reasonably infer that the reluctance

which baffled the arts of the King sprang from a deep fund of pride.

Pitt scorned to be Minister by sufferance of North--a man whom he

loathed. Further, why should he take up that burden at the bidding

of the Sovereign whom he knew to be the chief cause of the present

difficulties? Was it not better that George III and his former tool

should unravel the tangle of their own making? As North and Fox for the

present commanded the House of Commons, they must govern, as long as

they could hold together. Reasons of varied kinds, therefore, must have

led Pitt to hold back; and though he promised the King to consider the

matter, we may be sure that his resolve was virtually formed.

Other names were then mooted, including those of Thomas Pitt and Earl

Temple; but, as George III bitterly complained, not one of them had

spirit enough to stand forth. All his efforts to escape the meshes of

the Coalition were in vain. Meanwhile, public affairs went from bad

to worse. “Our internal regulations (so William Grenville wrote to

Temple), our loan, our commerce, our army, everything is at a stand

... we have no money, and our troops and seamen are in mutiny.”[150]

But, for a whole month, nothing bent the King’s purpose. It was clear

that he was seeking to sow discord among his opponents.[151] In this

he failed. Finally the Coalition succeeded in imposing its nominee,

the Duke of Portland, on the King; but, as George insisted that his

“friend,” Lord Thurlow, should continue to be Lord Chancellor, the duke

and his backers broke off the negotiations (18th to 20th March). At

once the King sent for Pitt in the following curt note--the first in

his long correspondence with him.[152]

Queen’s House, _March 20, 1783_.

Mr. Pitt, I desire you will come here immediately.

G. R.

Once more, then, the King made his offer to the young statesman. For

five days he sought to bend that stubborn will, urging the needs of

the public service and his own resolve never to admit the Duke of

Portland and North after their treatment of him. But on 25th March Pitt

politely, but most firmly, declined, on the same grounds as before.

The King thereupon declared himself much hurt at his refusal to stand

forth against “the most daring and unprincipled faction that the annals

of this kingdom ever produced.”[153] Once more he talked of retiring

to Hanover and leaving to the Coalition the task of governing Great

Britain. But on mentioning this scheme to his hard-headed counsellor,

Lord Thurlow, he is said to have received the illuminating advice

that the journey to Hanover was easy enough; but the example of

James II’s travels abroad warranted the conclusion that the return

journey was more difficult.[154] The story is _ben trovato_; but we

may doubt whether even Thurlow’s assurance was equal to this ironical

dissuasiveness, and whether George III would ask advice on a step

never meant to be taken, and threatened merely in petulance. Equally

unconvincing is the story of the King bursting into tears in the

presence of the hated Duke of Portland. If the age was lachrymose,[155]

George III was not.

In any case, the Coalition had conquered. They dictated their terms.

George bent before the parliamentary storm, perhaps taking heart from

Thurlow’s words, that time and patience would cure the present evils.

On the last day of March, Pitt, with the relic of Shelburne’s Ministry,

resigned office; and on the 2nd of April the new Ministers kissed

hands. One who saw that function declared that he foresaw the fate of

the Coalition Ministry; for when Fox came up for that ceremony, “George

III turned back his ears and eyes just like the horse at Astley’s when

the tailor he had determined to throw was getting on him.”[156]

The observer augured well. Fox’s eagerness to mount the saddle, and

Pitt’s determination to stand aloof largely determined their future

careers and the course of history. Success comes to the man who knows,

not only when to strike swiftly and hard, but also how to bide his

time. The examples of Pericles and Epaminondas; of Fabius Maximus,

Caesar and Caesar Augustus in ancient history; of Louis XI, Elizabeth,

Cromwell, William of Orange, Talleyrand, and even of Napoleon, might

be cited as proofs of the power inherent in far-seeing patience. With

Pitt’s refusal of power in the spring of 1783 we may compare Napoleon’s

prudent reserve in the French political game of the years 1797–8, based

as it was on his declaration to Talleyrand in October 1797: “It is only

with prudence, wisdom and great dexterity that obstacles are surmounted

and important ends attained.... I see no impossibility in attaining,

in the course of a few years, those splendid results of which the

heated and enthusiastic imagination catches a glimpse, but which the

extremely cool, persevering and positive man alone can grasp.” Pitt’s

great speech of 21st February 1783 showed him to possess imaginative

gifts and ambition of a high order; his refusal of office, owing to

the stubborn facts of arithmetic, was the outcome of those cool and

calculating instincts without which aspiring genius is a balloon devoid

of ballast.

The reception accorded by the public to the Coalition Ministry was

far from flattering. No sooner were the names of Ministers known,

on 2nd April 1783, than indignation ran high. The Duke of Portland,

as First Lord of the Treasury, was seen to be an ornamental figure,

easily controllable by Fox. The two Secretaries of State were North

and Fox, the latter leading the House of Commons; and this close

official union of two men who had spent their lives in vilifying each

other was generally reprobated.[157] Fox, formerly the bitterest of

North’s revilers, was held to have betrayed his Whig principles; and

his once enthusiastic constituents at Westminster, at his re-election

refused him a hearing, shouting him down several times. The conduct of

North, the reviled, seemed incredibly base and unmanly. For the rest,

Lord John Cavendish (dubbed by Selwyn “the learned canary-bird”) took

Pitt’s place at the Exchequer; Lord Stormont became President of the

Council, the Earl of Carlisle, Lord Privy Seal; and Keppel returned to

the Admiralty. The foregoing formed the Cabinet. As the King was forced

to part with his man, Thurlow, the Lord Chancellor’s seal was put in

commission, Lord Loughborough (formerly Mr. Wedderburn, a man apt at

betrayal) becoming first commissioner. Burke and Sheridan were rewarded

with the subordinate posts of Paymaster of the Forces and Secretary

to the Treasury. Thus the Whig members were in the ascendant, though

North’s party predominated in the House of Commons. Temple resigned the

Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland, which went, after an embarrassing delay,

to one of Fox’s boon companions at Brooks’s, Lord Northington.[158]

Wilberforce, with his usual power of hitting off a situation, declared

that the Fox-North Coalition inherited the defects of its progenitors,

the violence of Fox and the corruption of North. This was the general

opinion. As for George III, he raged against this unnatural union.

He could not mention the subject without falling into the flurried

incoherent kind of talk which afterwards marked the on-coming of

attacks of lunacy. Private hatred of Fox, as the man who led astray

the Prince of Wales into the equally odious paths of gambling and

political opposition, fed the King’s animosity against the Whig orator

as the foe of the constitution. But the vials of his wrath were poured

forth on North, for his betrayal of the royal confidence lavished on

him for a decade. On 1st April, George III informed Temple that he

hoped the nation’s eyes would soon be opened, and that the Pitts and

Grenvilles would deliver him from the thraldom of the Coalition. For

the present, he would certainly refuse to grant any honours asked for

by the new Ministry.[159] As the greed of the Coalition was notorious,

the situation thus became piquant in the extreme. Amusement at the

irony of the situation must have helped, in Pitt’s case, to lighten

the disappointment of retiring from office. Certainly he was never

downcast. Wilberforce’s journal shows him to have been a frequent and a

joyous visitor to Wimbledon. This was the time of the spring-sowing of

the flower-beds of Lauriston House with the fragments of Ryder’s opera

hat. (See Chapter XII.)

Other and more practical fruits of his hopefulness were his efforts

for Parliamentary Reform, clouded over though that cause was by the

alliance of Whigs and the former “King’s Friends.” Acting not as a

partisan (for, just before resigning office, he informed the House

that he belonged to no party), he introduced a motion on 7th May for

the Reform of Parliament. On this occasion London and Kent seemed to

take an interest in the motion, and the approaches to St. Stephen’s as

well as the galleries were thronged by petitioners in favour of Reform.

The freeholders of Kent, the householders of the Tower Hamlets, and

the electors of Westminster (the last headed by Fox!), came in great

numbers to give weight to their petitions. Horace Walpole noted that

Kent and Essex had joined the Quintuple Alliance (_i.e._, of counties)

in favour of Reform.[160]

In due course Pitt rose to bring in his motion. He claimed that the

disasters of the past years had at length caused the people “to turn

their eyes inward on themselves” to find out the cause of the evil.

No one could now doubt that the radical fault in the constitution was

the secret influence of the Crown as exerted on the House of Commons.

For the redress of this evil three plans had been proposed, first, the

extension of the franchise to every man--a proposal which he scouted as

both impracticable and even undesirable, seeing that the minority must

then hold themselves to be slaves to the majority. (It is difficult to

follow Pitt here; for every electoral system implies a majority and

minority; and hardship arises only when the majority is subservient to

the minority--as was the case in 1783.) Their forefathers, he added,

had never contemplated giving a vote to every man, and the scheme was

“a mere speculative proposition that may be good in theory but which

it would be absurd and chimerical to endeavour to reduce to practice.”

These words should be noted. For they refute the slander that Pitt

“ratted” from the cause of Reform in and after 1790, when it was based

on the Jacobin theory of universal suffrage, which he had always

repudiated.

Pitt’s second proposal of Reform was to abolish the “rotten boroughs.”

He confessed that they were “deformities” in our system, but he felt

that they could not be removed without endangering the whole pile.

The third proposal seemed to him far better, namely, to add a number

of members for the counties and the metropolis. He summed up his

contentions in three Resolutions: (1) for the prevention of bribery and

undue expense at elections; (2) the disfranchisement of boroughs where

corruption was proven; (3) an addition to members of counties and of

the metropolis. The details of these proposals were to be specified in

a Bill, if the Resolutions were carried. They met with support from

Fox, while their very limited character, which Sheridan ridiculed,

commended them to Dundas and Thomas Pitt, who previously had opposed

Reform.[161] As a pledge of his sincerity, Thomas Pitt offered to

surrender his rights over the parliamentary borough of Old Sarum.

All was of no avail. North, Colonel Luttrell, Lord Mulgrave, and others

declaimed against any change in the glorious constitution. The House

by a majority of one hundred and forty-four reprobated the dangerous

spirit of innovation which was abroad. Doubtless the demoralization of

the Whigs made defeat inevitable. Pitt himself spoke with less than

his usual effectiveness; and the absence of petitions from the new

manufacturing towns showed that the country at large cared little for

the question. This apathy seems to us unaccountable until we remember

that Manchester, Leeds, and Halifax tamely suffered Richard Cromwell to

annul the act of enfranchisement which the great Oliver had bestowed

upon them. Evidently the age-long torpor still lay upon the land.

In the rest of the session, Pitt brought in measures for effecting

retrenchment in the public offices. He commented on such abuses as the

following: that the chief clerk of the navy office received a salary

of £250 a year, but ten times that amount in gifts, and other clerks in

the same proportion. The Secretary of the Post Office raised his salary

of £500 to a total of £3,000 by a 2½ per cent. charge on all packets--a

curiously cumbrous method of redress. The expense of stationery at the

office of Lord North during his term at the Treasury was £1,300 a year,

one item being £340 for whip-cord! By careful economies Pitt hoped to

save the nation £40,000 a year. The debate was rendered remarkable by

a speech from Burke. The great man was smarting under the censure of

the House for reinstating two dishonest officials, and had betrayed the

Celtic sensitiveness of his nature by drearily ranting until Fox and

Sheridan fairly pulled him to his seat. He now rallied Pitt on “prying

into the little perquisites of little men in little offices, while he

suffered the greatest abuses to exist in the offices under his eye.

He seemed to have that nice olfactory nerve which could smell a ball

of horsedung a thousand miles off, but which was not affected by the

stench of a dunghill under his very window.” Burke, however, failed

to substantiate the latter part of his malodorous simile. The measure

passed the Commons, only to perish in the Lords. Keppel denied that

there were any abuses at the Admiralty; the Duke of Portland opined

that Pitt’s reforms would cost as much as they saved; and Stormont

declared that they would be highly inconvenient.[162] The same fate

befell a measure, which Pitt warmly supported, for lessening expenses

at elections.

In his speech on Lord John Cavendish’s Budget, Pitt showed a practical

knowledge of finance which enabled him trenchantly to expose the weak

points of his successor’s proposals; and he further pointed out the

best means for launching a loan on the most favourable terms. His

reputation gained in solidity during the session; and if his speeches,

after the great effort of 21st February, lacked brilliance, they

exhibited his capacity and his grasp of affairs.

Ministers, on the other hand, lost ground, owing to their own blunders

and the widening of the gulf between their discordant sections. A case

in point was their treatment of the question of the allowance for the

Prince of Wales. As will appear later more in detail, the relations

between the King and the Prince were already so strained that the

Ministry--“my son’s Ministry,” the King sometimes called it--must

have known the question to be thorny. The tastes of George III being

as frugal as those of his son were extravagant, a clear understanding

with the King seemed the first essential to a settlement. Yet Fox

and his supporters in the Cabinet prevailed on the other Ministers,

rather reluctantly, to allot the sum of £100,000 a year to the Prince,

and that, too, without consulting the King. According to Horace

Walpole, the proposal came to light during a casual conversation

between the King and the Duke of Portland on 11th June. The account

given in the “Fox Memorials” seems, however, to convict George III

of inconsistency.[163] In any case, he angrily declaimed against the

proposal, as showing that Ministers, despite their professions of

economy, “were ready to sacrifice the public interests to the wishes

of _an ill-advised young man_”; he declared his readiness to allow the

Prince £50,000 a year from the Civil List, so as not to burden the

public. This was the sum which he himself had received as Prince of

Wales; and he held strong ground in proposing to support his bachelor

son on a similar allowance.

This was the mine sprung upon the Ministry on 16th June. It promised

to end their existence; and Fox believed that the King would seize

the opportunity to dismiss Ministers, dissolve Parliament, and appeal

to the country on the cry of economy, paternal authority, and no

mischief-making between father and son. Doubtless he would have done

so but for the very speedy compliance of the Prince of Wales with

his expressed wishes--an act of submission due less to the filial

devotion of the Prince than to his desire to save his favourite from

a crushing defeat at the polls. Ultimately, on 23rd June, the House

agreed to vote the sum of £60,000 for the present needs of the Prince,

as regards debts and the furnishing of Carlton House, and £50,000

a year out of the Civil List. The incident led to some regrettable

complications. Fox seems to have attributed the King’s sudden anger to

an intrigue of Pitt, whom he dubbed “an unscrupulous opposer.”[164]

Further, the Prince thenceforth more than ever looked on his father

and the opponents of Fox as his own personal enemies, in that they

bound him down to an insufficient allowance, which he felt no scruple

in exceeding. The wretched business of the Prince of Wales’s debts, and

even that of the Regency, resulted in no small measure from the bad

blood engendered in the strife of June 1783.

The King, also, as we can now see by the new light which the Dropmore

Papers have thrown on events, watched the course of affairs more

closely than ever in order to pave the way to office for the Pitts and

Grenvilles. But his rancour did not blunt his prudence. He was resolved

not to exchange one set of masters for another. If Pitt came in, it

must be on terms favourable to the Crown. George saw Temple after his

abandonment of the cares of State at Dublin Castle, and soon began to

sound him and Pitt as to their ideas on a future Ministry.[165]

There was one grave objection to Pitt, namely, his zeal for Reform.

Seeing that the Coalition Ministry was lukewarm on this subject,

the King strove to ensure similar complaisance on the part of its

successor. He therefore commissioned his secret bargainer, Thurlow, to

see Pitt and clear up this question. The ex-Lord Chancellor invited his

former colleague to dinner on 19th July, five days after the end of

the session. He was very wary in his overtures, and Pitt complained to

Grenville that he had a very good meal, but little information. Thurlow

was profuse in hints and innuendos, which Pitt gauged at their real

value. First he depicted the situation as by no means unfavourable to

the King, who had gone through the worst when he admitted the Foxites

to office. On Pitt suggesting that perhaps he would become reconciled

to them, Thurlow hastened to add that that was impossible, especially

after the affair of the Prince’s allowance. The “King’s friend” then

turned the conversation to the subject of Parliamentary Reform and the

influence of the Crown.

His object (so Pitt wrote to Earl Temple) was to insinuate that

a change was not so necessary to the King; and to endeavour to

make it (if it should take place) rather our act than his; and

on that ground to try whether terms might not be imposed that

could not otherwise. This is so totally contrary to every idea we

both entertain that I thought it necessary to take full care to

counteract it. I stated in general that if the King’s feelings

did not point strongly to a change, it was not what we sought.

But that if they did, and we could form a permanent system,

consistent with our principles, and on public ground, we should not

decline it. I reminded him how much I was personally pledged to

Parliamentary Reform on the principles I had publicly explained,

which I should support on every seasonable occasion. I treated as

out of the question any idea of measures being taken to extend

[Crown] influence, though such means as are fairly in the hands

of Ministers would undoubtedly be to be exerted. And I said that

I wished those with whom I might act, and the King (if he called

upon me) to be fully apprized of the grounds on which I should

necessarily proceed....[166]

This is a declaration of the highest importance. If Thurlow was not

very explicit, Pitt certainly was; and it is clear that he fathomed

the intentions of George III. They were, in brief, to use the present

unsatisfactory state of things as an inducement to a patriotic and

ambitious young man to come forward as a “King’s friend,” taking up the

place which North’s defection had left vacant. Shelving the problem of

Parliamentary Reform, Pitt was to govern for the King and by means of

his influence. The young statesman saw the snare, skilfully evaded it,

and let it be understood that, if he took office, he would come in on

his own terms, not on those of the King. Firm in the alliance of the

Grenvilles, and all who detested the Coalition Ministry, he needed not

to supplicate the royal favour. Once more he would bide his time, until

the King sued for his support. Temple in his reply warmly commended his

sound sense and honourable conduct, acknowledging that Pitt was pledged

to Reform, so long as there was any chance of success.

A time of skilful balancing now ensued. The King, disappointed at

Pitt’s independent attitude, took Temple’s advice, and decided to

leave to his Ministers the odium of concluding peace, and of bringing

in proposals of Reform which would certainly disappoint some and

exasperate others of their following. It is clear, however, that, after

his annoyance at the question of the Prince of Wales’s allowance,

George resolved to dismiss his Ministers as soon as their popularity

waned, and to recur to personal rule, if he could find a serviceable

instrument. It was generally known by the end of the session that

Pitt might play that part as soon as he chose. George hinted as much

to Thurlow, who passed it on to the political world. The news was

well known when Pitt went down to Brighthelmstone for sea-bathing in

August.[167]

Other causes, however, besides the aloofness of Pitt, concurred to

postpone the crisis. The Cabinet, feeling its position insecure, was

in no haste to sign the definitive treaties of peace, feeling the

interval of uncertainty to be some guarantee of continuance in office.

There was also some hope that the Czarina, Catharine II, intent as she

was on plans against Turkey, would court our alliance and thus end our

isolation.[168] Thus the state of party affairs in England, as well as

the changing ambitions of the Czarina, helped to postpone the final

settlement; but ultimately the treaties were signed on 3rd September

at Versailles. They varied very slightly from the preliminaries which

Ministers, when in opposition, had so violently attacked. Apart from

a stipulation for the safeguarding of British property in the ceded

island of Tobago, and the better definition of our rights in the gum

trade, there was no material change. The American Loyalists, for

whom Fox and Burke had so passionately pleaded, were left in the

same position as in the preliminary treaty. The Coalition Ministry

in five months of bargaining secured no better terms from France and

Spain than Shelburne had arranged. Fox and North, who had blamed

their predecessors for failing to make a commercial agreement with

the United States, now had to confess their own failure. Finally, the

Preliminaries with Holland, signed on 2nd September, showed that Fox,

who, with Sheridan, had declaimed against the expected retrocession of

Trincomalee to the Dutch, now consented to it. Negapatam, a far less

commanding post, was retained.

These actions exposed Ministers to the charge of gross inconsistency

in ratifying conditions of peace against which they had inveighed in

unmeasured terms. On 11th November Pitt rallied them on this topic, and

then, soaring from the low levels of partisan warfare, to the heights

of statesmanlike survey, he uttered these words:

The nation has a right to expect that, without delay, a complete

commercial system, suited to the novelty of our situation, will

be laid before Parliament. I am acquainted with the difficulty

of the business and will not attribute the delay hitherto to any

neglect on the part of Ministers. I am willing to ascribe it to the

nature of the negotiation; but I expect that the business will soon

be brought forward, not by piece-meal, but that one grand system

of commerce, built upon the circumstances of the times, will be

submitted to the House for their consideration.[169]

This is the first sign of Pitt’s resolve to give effect to the

teachings of Adam Smith, and to aid in founding on the ruins of our old

colonial system a fabric far sounder and more beneficent. It is further

significant, as showing the absence of factiousness in the Opposition,

that the address to the King of thanks for the peace was carried

unanimously.

* * * * *

We have looked ahead in order to glance at Pitt’s conduct respecting

the treaties of peace concluded on 3rd September; let us turn to his

movements during the vacation. First he ran down to Brighthelmstone

to take some dips in the sea; and then struck away westwards towards

Somerset for a flying visit to Lady Chatham at Burton Pynsent. Next,

after a short stay at Kingston Hall, Bankes’s country house in Dorset,

in company with Wilberforce and Eliot, he returned to town on 7th

September in order to look into the political situation. He found that

the Ministry was losing favour mainly because the King refused to grant

any peerages at their request. Apart from this, however, there was no

sign of a collapse. That stormy petrel of politics, Lord Thurlow, was

abroad; and Pitt probably considered it tactful not to linger about

town, but to visit the Continent. Before setting out, he attended the

_levée_ at St. James’s on 10th September; and the King inquired the

time of his return “in a rather significant manner.”[170]

On the next day he met Wilberforce and Eliot at Canterbury, and on

the 12th they crossed to Calais. He found the journey to Reims more

comfortable, and the appearance of the people more prosperous, than he

had expected; but “the face of the country the dullest I ever saw.”

The reception of the party at Reims, where they proposed to improve

their French before proceeding to Paris, had a spice of novelty.

Each of the three friends had trusted to the others to provide the

needful introductions. As a result they were able only to obtain one

introduction, through the London banker, Thellusson, and this proved

to be to a grocer, whom they found behind his counter selling figs and

raisins. Somewhat crestfallen, the three _milords anglais_ returned to

their inn. Not for ten days did they gain an _entrée_ to the intendant

of Reims, and through him to the Archbishop. His Grace was by no means

an awe-inspiring personage; he figures in Wilberforce’s letters as a

jolly fellow, about forty years of age, who played billiards like other

people. The three friends also met an Abbé de Lageard, “a fellow of

infinite humour,” who used to entertain them by visits of five or six

hours at a stretch. To him, early in their acquaintance, Pitt mooted a

grievance, that there, in the middle of Champagne, they could get no

wine that was even tolerable. The abbé thereupon entertained them at

his house with the best wine of the province, and with five hours of

breezy talk.

Pitt, so we learn from Wilberforce, was the most fluent of the visitors

on these occasions. His ear, “quick for every sound but music,”

readily caught the intonations of the language, and he soon conversed

with ease and fair accuracy. Some few of his _mots_ are preserved

by Wilberforce. In answer to the abbé’s inquiry about his opinion

of French institutions, Pitt replied: “Sir, you have no political

liberty, but as for liberty in civil affairs, you have more than you

think.” His opinion on the durability of the English constitution is

even more surprising. “The part of our constitution which will first

perish is the prerogative of the King and the authority of the House

of Peers.”[171] None of Pitt’s sayings is more remarkable than this,

uttered as it was long before the storms of the French Revolution, and

after the British monarchy had easily weathered the Atlantic gale.

Possibly the conviction here recorded helps to explain why, at the

close of the year, Pitt undertook to support the monarchy, in order to

maintain that balance of the English constitution which all thinkers

(especially Montesquieu) had praised as its peculiar excellence.

The third of the _mots_ mentioned by Wilberforce illustrates the

generosity of Pitt’s character, a trait in which his opponents, judging

from his generally cold exterior, believed him to be deficient. On the

abbé expressing surprise at so moral a country as England allowing

itself to be governed by Fox, a man signally deficient in private

character, Pitt replied: “Ah! you have not been under the wand of the

magician.” Out of the varied scintillations of wit and gaiety with

which Pitt brightened this five weeks’ sojourn in France, we catch

a glimpse of these three sparks alone. Doubtless the weakness of

Wilberforce’s eyes at that time accounts for the tantalizingly meagre

entries in his diary; but, seeing how elusive a figure Pitt is, we must

be thankful even for these slight jottings.

We are therefore left wondering about the intercourse between the

three Englishmen and Talleyrand, who was then staying with his uncle,

the Archbishop of Reims. Of their brilliant conversations--for where

Talleyrand was dullness could not dwell--we know nothing. Talleyrand

and Pitt, we are told, instructed one another in their mother tongues

and exchanged ideas, especially on literature and the advantages

of Free Trade.[172] What a subject for Landor, this interchange of

thoughts between the ablest young men of the age, who agreed on all

the essentials of politics and yet were soon to be forced by destiny

into bitter conflict! How different the future might have been had

Talleyrand had enough strength and straightforwardness to become chief

of the French Republic!

The stay of the three friends at Reims ended on 9th October, owing to

Pitt’s desire to reach Paris in time to see George Rose, a Secretary

of the Treasury, who had been travelling on the Continent with Lord

Thurlow. There can be little doubt that Pitt hoped to hear from him

news respecting the situation in London; for they had confidential

converse, in which Pitt gained over Rose completely to his side.[173]

At Paris he had intercourse with Lafayette, Benjamin Franklin, and

many other celebrities. By special invitation they shared in the

gala festivities of the Court at Fontainebleau, and there saw not

only the French Ministers and chief nobles, but also the King and

Queen (15th-19th October). That was the heyday of Louis XVI and Marie

Antoinette. The conclusion of the Peace of Versailles with England

seemed to place France without question at the head of the political

world. She had sundered the Empire of her rival, and with ordinary

wisdom she might hope to keep the lead as a commercial and colonizing

power. Strong in the alliance of Austria and Spain, with her friendship

courted by the United States, Prussia, Sweden, and Holland--at times

by the Czarina Catharine--France seemed to be high above the reach of

adverse fortune. The prestige of the monarchy was as yet undimmed by

the affair of the Diamond Necklace. The factious opposition of the

Parlements had scarcely begun; and the days of hunting and festivity

at Fontainebleau must have realized those visions of charm and beauty

in which Burke has enshrined Marie Antoinette, “glittering like the

morning star, full of life and splendour and joy.”

By her side at Court and in the hunting field was that strange

opposite, her husband. What the friends thought of Louis XVI in

hunting attire is shown by Wilberforce’s note--“clumsy strange figure

in immense boots.” Whether the King spoke to them is doubtful, for

his words were ever few, and etiquette forbade his conversing much

with foreigners.[174] But the Queen, with her usual vivacity and wit,

rallied them upon their friend, the grocer, at Reims. The courtiers

often crowded round Pitt (so Wilberforce recalls), “and he behaved

with great spirit, though he was sometimes a little bored when they

talked to him about Parliamentary Reform.” At Fontainebleau Pitt met

Lafayette at dinner in company with the American Minister, Franklin.

Again we long to know of the converse of these representative men. Only

one scrap survives, namely, that Pitt informed the Frenchman, whom his

admirers termed “the hero of both worlds,” that his principles were too

democratic for him.[175] When the tempest burst upon Western Europe,

this soon became apparent.

Necker, the Minister who in 1789 aspired to ride on the winds and

control the storm, was desirous of allying his family with that of

Pitt. The ex-Controller-General of French Finances and his ambitious

consort sought to strengthen their claims on the Government for a

return to office, by an alliance with a powerful family. What alliance

could be so brilliant for these Genevese Protestants as with the son

of Chatham? We now know for certain that Necker and his wife urgently

wished for this union; for a year later the mother, when seriously ill,

wrote to her daughter (the future Mme. de Staël) in these terms:

I did desire that you should marry Mr. Pitt. I wished to confide

you to the care of a husband who had made for himself a great

name; I also could have wished for a son-in-law to whose care I

could commend your poor father, and who would feel the full weight

of his charge. You were not disposed to give me this satisfaction.

Well! All is now forgiven.[176]

Clearly the match was to have been of an eleemosynary character; and

all who rejoice in the eager exuberance of the life of Mme. de Staël

cannot be surprised at her refusal, even when a young girl, to become

a testamentary asset in the life of her father. Whether her repugnance

at the idea was further increased by seeing Pitt in one of his “bored”

moods, we do not know. Indeed it is uncertain whether they ever met. If

we may judge from the sketch of Pitt written by Wilberforce in 1821,

the affair was mooted in the frigid bargaining manner usual with French

parents. Horace Walpole, a close friend of M. Necker, remarked to Lord

Camden, who thereupon passed it on to Pitt, that the Neckers had so

much respect for him that, if he claimed the hand of their daughter,

he would not be refused--by the parents. What would have happened when

Mlle. Necker came to be asked must be left to the imagination.[177]

* * * * *

From the charms of the French Court and the meshes of matrimonial

schemes Pitt was suddenly called away. A special messenger bade him

return at once to London. What he had all along hoped now came to

pass. The King’s dislike of his Ministers had overcome all other

feelings, and he now appealed to Pitt to free him from the toils of

the Coalition. The friends spent twenty-four hours in a carriage, then

suffered the usual miseries of a Channel passage, and reached London on

24th October.

The situation was serious. Though delivered from fear of war, the

country was beset by many perils. Consols were on the decline.

The state of Ireland was alarming. The Associations of Volunteers

overshadowed the Government at Dublin, and seemed about to dictate

terms to that at Westminster. Their attitude aroused keen resentment,

seeing that the legislative independence of Ireland had been proclaimed

to be the cure for all her evils. “What! (exclaimed Horace Walpole)

Would they throw off our Parliament and yet amend it.” Worst of all,

perhaps, was the almost complete indifference of Britons to the

political situation. The same rather cynical observer had already noted

that no one, except interested politicians, really cared who was in, or

out of, office. His words deserve quotation:

Our levity is unlike that of the French. They turn everything into

a jest, an epigram, or a ballad. We are not pleasant but violent,

and yet remember nothing for a moment. This was not our character

formerly.... Can the people be much attached to any man if they

think well of none? Can they hate any man superlatively if they

think ill of all? In my own opinion we have no positive character

at present at all. We are not so bad as most great nations

have been when sinking. We have no excessive vices, no raging

animosities.[178]

The passage is interesting in more ways than one. Milton dubbed us

fickle and alleged our insular situation as the cause.[179] Addison

in one of his essays repeated the charge, which was perfectly natural

early in the eighteenth century. Further, Horace Walpole’s criticism is

remarkable as that of a shrewd observer during what he termed a time

of “comfortable calm.” He saw the two leading nations, as it were,

drifting sluggishly in a Sargasso Sea of politics after one storm;

and they and he never suspected the approach of a far more terrible

tempest. Neither in London nor Paris had any inspiring personality come

to the front. Pitt had not fully emerged. Robespierre was intent on

his briefs at Arras; the Corsican, who was to quicken the pulse of all

peoples, still studied under the monks of Brienne; and Horace Walpole

could therefore complain of the pettiness of politics, the aimless

brawlings of Westminster, the lighter vagaries of Versailles, and the

dullness of the world.

At London all was soon to change. Though Fox and North kept their

majority solid on the question of the peace, yet they came to grief

over a measure of almost equal importance. On 18th November, amidst

scenes of unequalled excitement, Fox brought forward his India Bill;

and on a question where vast patronage was at stake passions rose

to fever heat. Indian affairs will be treated more fully in another

chapter; and it must suffice to state here that the East India

Company was in a deplorable condition, mainly owing to the war with

Hyder Ali and the insubordination and rapacity of the Company’s

servants, which led to abuses degrading to Britain and oppressive to

the natives of India. According to the terms of North’s Regulating

Act of 1773, Parliament had the right of intervention in all matters

of high policy; but in one important question the Company had set its

behests at naught. In April 1782 a vote of censure was passed on the

Governor-General, Warren Hastings, and the Company was requested to

recall him. The Court of Directors issued an order to this effect; but

the Court of Proprietors reversed their decision, and Hastings was left

in a position ambiguous and irritating to all parties. Consequently

dictates of policy and the interests of the nation compelled Parliament

to assert its paramount authority.

But the manner of the intervention and the act itself were alike

extraordinary. The new India Bill was the joint work of Fox and Burke

with some aid from the law-officers of the Crown. It has often been

said, on the scantiest of evidence, to have been framed mainly by

Burke; but the clauses which abrograted the Charter of the East India

Company and vested the control of Indian affairs chiefly in Parliament,

bear the imprint of the mind of Fox rather than of the more cautious

and conservative statesman.[180] In strict propriety the measure

ought to have originated with Lord North. He privately expressed his

approval, and then, alleging indisposition, stayed away from Parliament

on the day of its introduction.[181]

Fox opened his case in a speech of great power. He dilated on the

ills resulting from the disorders in the Company’s service, and, in

particular, from the ambition of Warren Hastings. He then showed the

tendency of the parliamentary reports on Indian affairs, and claimed

that, in the virtual bankruptcy of the Company (which could not

discharge its debts to the Crown), Parliament had the right to take the

supreme control of its territories. We may pause here to notice that

the Directors of the Company stoutly denied the assertion as to their

bankruptcy, and claimed that, when its expenses were reduced to a peace

footing, the Company’s creditors would be in a better position than

any creditors in Europe.[182] Their printed report of 23rd January

1784 laid stress on the heavy charge involved by conquests in India

“which the wisdom of the nation has given up for equivalents in other

parts of the world.” It also claimed the payment of £260,687, the

charge incurred by the Company for the maintenance of French prisoners

in the Seven Years’ War. The Directors further stated that, if

Government would check the very extensive smuggling in tea (an article

which formed the most valuable of the monopolies of the Company),

more than double the amount would be sold by legitimate means. These

facts should be borne in mind, as the Company succeeded in spreading a

conviction that the attack of Fox was unjust.

In the rest of his speech Fox detailed his proposals for effecting

drastic changes in India, and explained the reasons for separating

administrative affairs from purely mercantile affairs. Many authorities

claimed that the territories of the Company belonged in reality to the

Crown; others denied this claim. On one point all must agree, that the

Crown could not possibly deal with “a remote and difficult trade.”

Accordingly he sought to form “a mixed system of government, adapted

to the mixed complexion of our interests in India.” For administrative

work he proposed to establish a Board of seven commissioners, nominated

by Parliament, for three or five years--four years was the term

finally suggested--having full power to appoint and dismiss officers

in India, and complete control over its government. The Board was to

sit in London, “under the very eye of Parliament,” and the minutes

of its meetings were to be open to inspection by Parliament. If this

experiment succeeded, he proposed that in future the King should

nominate the seven commissioners, and he was to fill up vacancies that

might occur in the meantime. As for the mercantile interests of the

Company, they were to be managed by a subordinate Board or Council,

consisting of eight members chosen by Parliament from among the larger

proprietors.

He further proposed to remedy the worst abuses in India in a second

Bill which would abolish the holding of monopolies, such as that for

opium, which had been jobbed away to the son of a former chairman of

the Company. Security of tenure would be granted to the Zamindars, or

native landlords, and the acceptance of presents by the Company’s

servants in India--a fertile source of corruption and oppression--would

be strictly forbidden. Fox admitted that the private influence of the

Crown, even in its worst days, was nothing compared with that of the

East India Company, and wisely abstained for the present from naming

the seven commissioners whom he proposed to appoint.[183]

Here was the weak point of an otherwise excellent measure; and Pitt,

towards whom all eyes were directed, fastened upon it. While admitting

the urgent need of reform, he deprecated the abrogation of all the

charters and privileges of an ancient Company under the plea of

necessity. “Is not necessity,” he said, “the plea of every illegal

exertion of power? Is not necessity the pretence of every usurpation?

Necessity is the argument of tyrants: it is the creed of slaves.”

Further, what evils must result if that formidable political weapon,

the patronage of the Company, were transferred to the Ministers then in

power, and finally to the Crown? On the one side it would tend to the

grossest corruption, on the other, to despotism.[184]

Pitt, it will be seen, opposed the measure owing to the indirect but

inevitable consequences which it would entail in the vitiated state of

affairs then existing in Parliament, where an unwholesome Coalition

held together only with the aim of enjoying the spoils of office and

even richer booty in the future.[185] The possession of the enormous

patronage of the India Company opened up golden vistas that fired the

imaginations even of the dull squires who trooped after Lord North. As

for the far livelier followers of Fox, they were jubilant at prospects

which promised not only places in the East, but a long lease of power

at St. Stephen’s. Their opponents were alike depressed and indignant.

A former friend of Fox, Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, commented on the

“spirit of ambition, rapacity and confiscation” that characterized his

proposals; and the bad impression caused by the patronage section of

his Bill was intensified when it appeared that four of the seven new

commissioners were to be declared Foxites, better known at Brooks’s

Club than at the India House, namely, Lord Fitzwilliam, Frederick

Montagu, Sir Henry Fletcher, and Robert Gregory. In Lord North’s

interest there were his son, Colonel North, Viscount Lewisham, and Sir

Gilbert Elliot.

The appointment of seven pronounced partisans to these posts of

almost unbounded responsibility wrecked the measure. In itself the

Bill contained many excellent features. The transference of governing

power from the Company to Parliament in conjunction with the Crown,

on terms ultimately favourable to the latter, was a bold step; but

much could be said for it, and Pitt certainly overshot the limits of

fair criticism in his first speech. If Fox and North had chosen the

seven commissioners fairly from among all three parties, the mouths

of gainsayers would have been stopped. Now, however, the partisan

corollary to the measure justified the most vehement strictures. A

flood of satire was poured on the Bill. Two caricatures in particular

had a very wide circulation, probably at the expense of the threatened

Company. One represented Fox as Samson carrying off the ruins of the

East India House; the second, by Sayer, who soon became Pitt’s man and

received a small post from him, showed Fox as Carlo Khan riding into

Delhi on an elephant having the face of Lord North, and preceded by

Burke as trumpeter.

Pitt wrote privately to the Governor of the Company suggesting that

its prestige would be enhanced if a meeting of its creditors could be

arranged and a declaration could be procured that they would allow

ample time for the discharge of their claims.[186] But caricatures,

suggestions, and petitions were needless. The same facts which

discredited the Bill in the country whetted the eagerness of the

ministerial majority in Parliament. At the second reading Pitt briskly

renewed his attacks; and he now had the support of William Grenville in

a statesmanlike speech, which lacked “the commanding tone, the majesty,

and all the captivating rotundity and splendour of Pitt’s eloquence,”

but equalled it in argumentative power.[187] Dundas, Jenkinson, and

Scott (the future Lord Eldon), reinforced the assault: but all was in

vain. Burke, in a majestic oration, proclaimed that the Bill would

save India from manifold evils which he depicted with righteous

indignation.[188] But material interests told more than eloquence and

morality. The influence of Ministers and the hopes of their followers

ensured the speedy passing of this complex and far-reaching measure

through the Commons by a final majority of 208 votes to 102 (3rd

December).

This was a heavy blow to the Opposition, especially to Pitt, who had

said that he would fight the whole Bill, clause by clause. Horace

Walpole wrote two days later that Pitt had slunk from the contest,

but that the check would do him good, dazzled as he had been by his

premature fame. Walpole also remarked that, while excelling Chatham in

logical power, the son had much less firmness and perseverance. Readers

of those charming letters will note with some amusement that in the

middle of the next month, Walpole wrote that nothing but obstinacy

prevented Pitt resigning his post as Prime Minister. After that Walpole

gave up the rôle of political prophet.

For now there occurred a series of events which taught modesty to

wiseacres. The King intervened in a surprising manner. In the House of

Lords influence from above was suddenly pitted against the interests of

the nether world. George III had long been awaiting a fit opportunity

for tripping up the hated Ministry. A few weeks before, he had covered

Fox and North with ridicule in front of the whole Court. Acting on

the first rumour of the death of Sir Eyre Coote in India, they had

proffered a request that his ribbon of the Order of the Bath should go

to a friend, and believed that they had secured the granted assent of

the Sovereign. The aspirant therefore appeared at the next levée at St.

James’s Palace with the officers of the Order; but the King, affecting

great surprise at the unseemly haste of his ministers in acting on

unofficial information, refused to confer the ribbon, repulsed their

entreaties, and postponed the ceremony.[189]

George was now to taste the sweets of revenge in a matter more than

ceremonial. His coadjutor was Earl Temple, who had advised him to wait

until the times were ripe; and from a MS. preserved at Chevening we

learn that the King hastily sent for the Earl on the night of 11th

December. Thurlow also had an interview with him and pointed out in

unmeasured terms the humiliations which he would suffer from Fox’s

India Bill, namely, that it would transfer to the present Ministers

“more than half the royal power.” Always jealous of his patronage, the

King at once determined to ward off so insidious an attack. But he and

his advisers acted with characteristic caution. They considered--and

this is an interesting point in our constitutional history--that the

exercise of the royal veto on the Bill, if it should pass both Houses,

would be a “violent” step.[190] They preferred to act secretly and

indirectly through the Lords.

In order to exert pressure in the most drastic way possible, a card was

written (probably in the King’s hand) stating “That His Majesty allowed

Earl Temple to say that whoever voted for the India Bill was not only

not his friend, but would be considered by him as an enemy; and if

these words were not strong enough, Earl Temple might use whatever

words he might deem stronger and more to the purpose.”[191] Armed with

this card, Temple set to work to whittle down the Fox-North majority.

His success was startling and complete. The golden glint of the spoils

of the Indies paled under the thunder-cloud of the royal displeasure.

The fear of losing all chance of advancement at home, whether titular

or material, sent place-hunters and trimmers trooping over to the

Opposition; and a measure, the success of which seemed assured, was

thrown out on 17th December by a majority of nineteen. On the next day

the King ordered Lord North and Fox to send in their Seals of office by

their Under-Secretaries, “as a personal interview on the occasion would

be disagreeable to him.” He entrusted the Seals at once to Temple, who

on the day following signified to the other Ministers their dismissal

from office. On the same day, 19th December, the King sent for Pitt

and appointed him First Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the

Exchequer.

* * * * *

Thus it was that Pitt became Prime Minister before he attained his

twenty-fifth year. His acceptance of office after the recent use of

the royal prerogative is an action that stands in need of defence.

There can be no doubt that George III abused his power by seeking in

an underhand way to influence the votes of the Peers. The assertion

of Earl Stanhope that his action did not involve the infraction of

any specific rule of the constitution will not pass muster. As was

ably pointed out in the debate in the Commons on 17th December, the

three parts of the constitution, King, Lords, and Commons, exist

independently; and, just as the interference of one branch of the

Legislature in the debates and actions of the other is most properly

resented, so too the intervention of the Crown during the debates

is undoubtedly an infraction of the liberties of Parliament. While

not forbidden by any specific rule of the constitution, such action

contravenes the spirit of the ninth clause of the Bill of Rights, which

stipulates for complete freedom of debate and speech in Parliament.

The attitude of Pitt towards this question during the debate of 17th

December in the Commons is noteworthy. He did not attempt to defend

such a use of the royal prerogative as was then first reported: he

asserted, no doubt with perfect sincerity, that the report was an idle

rumour, of which the House could take no cognizance. The House did not

share his opinion. Swayed by a vehement speech of Fox, who declaimed

against the “infernal spirit of intrigue” ever present in the King’s

counsels, and charged Pitt with an underhand attempt to gain power,

members decided by a majority of nearly two to one that to report the

opinion, or pretended opinion, of the King on any Bill under discussion

in Parliament, was a high crime and misdemeanour, subversive of the

constitution.[192]

It was in face of these resolutions that Pitt, on 19th December, took

office. If he looked solely to Parliament, his position was hopeless.

Confronting him was a hostile majority, smarting under a great

disappointment, and threatening him, and still more his relative, Earl

Temple, with the penalties of the constitution. On hearing the news

of his acceptance of office, the members of the Coalition burst into

loud laughter, and gleefully trooped over to the Opposition benches.

Scarcely could they conceal their mirth during the ensuing debates;

and on 22nd December the House resolved itself into a Committee to

consider the state of the nation. Certainly Pitt’s position was trying

enough; for his triumph seemed to be the result of a backstairs

intrigue, unworthy of the son of Chatham, and fatal to the influence

of Parliament. He figured as the King’s Minister, carried to office by

the votes of nineteen Peers, against the will of the Commons. One can

therefore understand the persistence of the Whig tradition, in which

his action appeared the great betrayal of the liberties of Parliament.

Nevertheless, if we carry the question to the highest Court of Appeal,

the action of Pitt is justifiable. The prerogatives of Parliament

are subservient to the interests of the nation. And when the majority

of the House of Commons acts in a way strongly reprobated by public

opinion, its authority undergoes an immediate eclipse. In a not

dissimilar case, Chatham dared to appeal from a discredited House to

the people at large; and his son was justified in taking a step which

involved a reference to the people’s will at the first favourable

opportunity. Pitt always looked on the Coalition as an unprincipled

intrigue, in which the forms of the constitution were used in order to

violate its spirit. He knew that the country condemned what Romilly

termed “that scandalous alliance.” The original crime of the Coalition

seemed more than ever heinous when Ministers appointed solely their own

nominees to regulate Indian affairs. This very fact damned the India

Bill in the eyes of the public, which cared not a jot for parliamentary

majorities held together by hopes of booty. Men who had formerly

inveighed against George III now began to revise their judgements and

to pronounce even his last device justifiable when directed against

Ministers who were about to perpetrate the most gigantic job of the

century. In looking away from the votes of a corrupt Parliament to the

will of the nation, Pitt was but following in the footsteps of his

father, who had more than once made a similar appeal, and never in vain.

Finally we must remember that Pitt did not take office as a “King’s

Friend.” He had consistently refused to bind himself down to the

conditions which George III sought to impose. The King knew full well

that he had to deal with a man of sternly independent nature. He had

failed to bend Pitt’s will in the summer, when conditions favoured his

own “cause.” Now, when he was accused of violating the constitution,

and a hostile majority in the Commons held most threatening language,

he could not but uphold a Minister who stood forth in his defence. If

in July Pitt refused to bow before the royal behests, surely he might

expect to dictate his own terms in December. The King’s difficulty

was Pitt’s opportunity; and, as events were to prove, George III had,

at least for a time, to give up his attempts at personal rule and to

acquiesce in the rule of a Prime Minister who gave unity and strength

to the administration. While freeing himself from the loathed yoke of

the Whig oligarchy, the King unwittingly accepted the control of a man

who personified the nation.

The importance of the events of 17th-22nd December 1783 can scarcely be

overrated. In a personal sense they exerted an incalculable influence

on the fortunes of George III, Pitt, Fox, Burke, and many lesser men.

In constitutional history, as will afterwards appear, they brought

about the development of the Cabinet and the reconstruction of the

two chief political parties in their modern forms. The happy ending

of the crisis enabled the ship of State to reach smoother waters and

make harbour, though many of her crew and all foreign beholders looked

on her as wellnigh a castaway. All this, and more, depended on Pitt’s

action in those days. He knew the serious nature of the emergency; and

at such a time it behoves the one able steersman to take the helm,

regardless of all cries as to his youth and his forwardness. Pitt had

the proud confidence of Chatham, that he and he alone could save the

kingdom, and the verdict of mankind has applauded the resolve of the

father in the crisis of 1756, and the determination of his youthful son

in the equally dark days at the close of 1783. Conduct, which in a weak

and pliable man would have been a crime, is one of the many titles to

fame of William Pitt the Younger.

William Pitt and national revival · 第 6 / 25 章