THE PRINCE OF WALES
Our Ministers like gladiators live;
’Tis half their business blows to ward or give.
The good their virtue would effect, or sense,
Dies between exigents and self-defence.
POPE.
He [the Prince of Wales] has so effeminate a mind as to counteract
his own good qualities, by having no control over his weaknesses.
THE EARL OF MALMESBURY, _Diaries_, iv, 33.
A Prime Minister of Great Britain needs to be an intellectual Proteus.
Besides determining the lines of foreign and domestic policy, he must
regulate the movements of a complex parliamentary machine, ever taking
into account personal prejudices which not seldom baffle the most
careful forecast. It is not surprising, therefore, to find statesmen at
Westminster often slow and hesitating even when there is need of prompt
decision. The onlooker may see only the public questions at issue. The
man in the thick of the maze may all the time be holding the personal
clue which alone can bring him to the open. How often has the fate of
Europe turned on the foibles or favouritism of Queen Elizabeth, Louis
XIV, Queen Anne, Charles XII, Catharine II. In the present age this
factor counts for less than of yore. Hence it comes about that many
modern critics assess the career of Pitt as if he were in the position
of a Gladstone. In point of fact he was more under royal control than
Walpole or Godolphin. He had to do with a Sovereign who in the last
resort gave the law to his Ministers, and occasionally treated them
like head clerks.
True, George III interfered with Pitt less than with his predecessors.
That masterful will had been somewhat tamed during the “bondage” to the
Coalition, and almost perforce accepted the guidance of his deliverer.
The King even allowed Pitt to go his own way respecting Reform,
Warren Hastings, and the Irish Commercial Treaty. Family scandals and
family debts for a time overshadowed all other considerations, a fact
which goes far to explain the bourgeois domesticity of his outlook
on Dutch affairs. In these years, then, he acquiesced in the lead of
the heaven-sent Minister who maintained the national credit and the
national honour. But in the last resort George III not only reigned but
governed. Thus, apart from the Eastern War, which we shall consider
later, everything portended a time of calm in the year 1788, when
suddenly the personal element obtruded itself. There fell upon the
monarch a strange malady which threatened to bring confusion in place
of order, and to enthrone a Prince who was the embodiment of faction
and extravagance.
The career of the Prince of Wales illustrates the connection often
subsisting between the extremes of virtue and vice. Not seldom the
latter may be traced to the excess of the former in some primly
uninteresting home; and certainly the Prince, who saw the light on 12th
August 1762, might serve to point the moral against pedantic anxiety
on the part of the unco’ guid. His upbringing by the strictest of
fathers in the most methodized of households early helped to call out
and strengthen the tendencies to opposition which seemed ingrained in
the heirs-apparent of that stubborn stock. In the dull life at Kew or
Windsor, bristling with rules and rebukes, may we not see the working
in miniature of those untoward influences--fussy control and austere
domination--which wearied out the patience of Ministers and the loyalty
of colonists?
Moreover this royal precisian was not blessed with a gracious
consort. Queen Charlotte’s youthful experiences at the ducal Court of
Mecklenburg predisposed her to strict control and unsparing parsimony.
Many were the jests as to her stamping with her signet the butter left
over at meals. It was even affirmed that apple charlottes owed their
name to her custom of using up the spare crusts of every day. These
slanders (for the latter story fails before the touchstone of the term
_Charlotte Russe_) owed their popularity largely to her ugliness.
One of her well-wishers, Colonel Disbrowe, once expressed to Croker
the hope that the bloom of her ugliness was going off.[608] This sin
revealed a multitude of others; and it is fairly certain that Queen
Charlotte has been hardly judged. Some there were who accused her of
callousness towards the King during his insanity; and the charge seems
in part proven for the year 1804.[609] Others, again, charged her
with unmotherly treatment of the Prince of Wales. Who can suffice for
these things? Aristophanes coined a happy phrase to denote lovers of
the trivial in politics. He calls them “buzzers-in-corners.” Those who
essay to write the life of a great statesman must avoid those nooks.
One thing is certain. The Prince of Wales grew to dislike both his
father and mother. His temperament was far gayer and more romantic than
theirs. Some imaginative persons have ventured to assert that a more
generous and sympathetic training would have moulded him to a fine type
of manhood. Undoubtedly his education was of the narrow kind which had
stunted the nature of George III; and when the King, with ingrained
obstinacy, continued to keep the trammels on the high-spirited youth
of eighteen, he burst them asunder. At that age the Prince had his
first amour (was it his first?), namely, with the actress, “Perdita”
Robinson.[610] The gilded youth of London, long weary of the primness
of Windsor, cheered him on to further excesses, and Carlton House set
the tone of the age. In vain did the King seek to regain the confidence
and affection of his son.[611] His efforts were repulsed; and the
debasing influence of Henry Frederick, Duke of Cumberland, inured the
Prince to every kind of debauchery.
As if this were not enough, the heir to the throne made a bosom friend
of the man whom his father most detested, Charles James Fox. Through
that charming libertine the Prince became an _habitué_ of the Whig
Club, Brooks’s;[612] and, as we have seen, he helped to defeat the
King’s eager electioneering in the great fight of 1784 at Westminster.
Thenceforth the feud between father and son was bitter and persistent.
The Prince had all his father’s wilfulness, and far more than his stock
of selfishness. So far as is known, he showed no sign of repentance,
but argued himself into the belief that the King had always hated him
from his seventh year onward.[613] There is nothing that corroborates
this petulant assertion. The King had been a kind and even doting
father, his chief fault being that of guiding too long and too closely
this wayward nature.
By the summer of 1783 the quarrel had waxed warm on the subject of the
immorality and extravagance of the Prince. At that time the Coalition
Ministry startled the King by proposing to grant the sum of £100,000
a year to the Prince of Wales, exclusive of the revenues of the Duchy
of Cornwall, which amounted to about £13,000 a year.[614] The King,
having formerly received far less than that amount, considered it
exorbitant. As we saw in Chapter VI, the Ministry would probably have
fallen had not the Prince required his favourite to waive the proposal.
Parliament then voted £30,000 to pay his debts, £30,000 to start his
new establishment (Carlton House) and £50,000 a year out of the Civil
List.
By the autumn of the next year the Prince defiantly proposed to travel
abroad in order to ease his finances by evading his creditors. This
the King forbade, and requested him to send in a detailed list of his
expenses and debts. The result was a statement clear enough in most
items, but leaving a sum of £25,000 unaccounted for. The King required
an explanation of this, which the Prince as firmly refused to give,
though he assured Sir James Harris it was a debt of honour. As the King
refused to pass this sum, the whole matter dragged on, until in April
1785 the debts reached the total of £160,000. To escape the discomforts
of his position, the Prince proposed to his friend, Harris, who was
then in London, a term of residence at The Hague. The true reason for
this proposal lies in the fact that the Prince had for some time been
desperately in love with a fair young widow, Mrs. Fitzherbert, who
was a Roman Catholic. In vain had he wounded himself as a sign of his
undying passion for her: in vain had four of his friends sought to
inveigle her into a mock marriage. In order to escape his importunities
she had fled to the Continent; and the King refused him permission to
pursue her.
Here, in truth, was the crux of the relations between father and son.
King George saw no hope for the youth but in marriage with a Protestant
princess. Prince George as firmly declared that he would not marry
“some German frow,” and racked his brains with designs to secure the
Roman Catholic of his choice. Mrs. Fitzherbert’s religion, her position
as a commoner, and the anomaly of a morganatic marriage in these
islands, rendered any connection with her odious in the eyes of the
King. Besides, the Royal Marriage Act of 1772 forbade the marriage of
any prince or princess of the blood under the age of twenty-six without
the consent of the King. On all sides, then, the King had the Prince in
his toils.
The Prince, realizing this fact, seems to have behaved as recklessly
as possible in the hope of compelling the King to allow him to live
abroad and marry Mrs. Fitzherbert. Such at least is the most charitable
explanation of his early prodigalities. The debts, surely, were a means
of forcing the hand of his father. But George was not to be gulled
in this way. He, too, held firmly to his views, and the result was a
hopeless deadlock. Pitt and Carmarthen sought to end it in May 1785.
They threw out hints to Harris that the income of the Prince might be
increased by Parliament if he would become reconciled to the King,
cease to be a party man, and set about the discharge of his debts.
Accordingly Harris waited on the Prince at Carlton House on 23rd May
1785, and suggested that on these conditions the Ministry would double
his income, provided also that he set apart £50,000 a year for the
discharge of his debts. To this the Prince demurred, on the ground that
he could not desert Fox, and that the King’s unfatherly hatred would be
an obstacle to any such proposal. In support of the latter statement he
requested Harris to read the King’s letters to him, which were couched
in severe terms, reprobating his extravagance and dissipation.
We cannot censure this severity. The gluttonous orgies of Carlton
House were a public scandal, especially in hard times, when Parliament
withheld the money necessary for the protection of Portsmouth and
Plymouth. Both as a patriot and a father, George was justified in
condemning his son’s conduct; and it is clear that the hatred of the
Prince for his father led him to put the worst possible construction on
the advice from Windsor. At the close of his interview with Harris he
declared vehemently that he never would marry, and that he had settled
with his brother Frederick, Duke of York, for the Crown to devolve on
his heirs.[615]
As illustrating the relations of father and son, I may quote an
unpublished letter from Hugh Elliot to Pitt, dated Brighthelmstone,
17th October 1785, and endorsed by Pitt--“Shewn to the King.”[616] In
it Elliot states that he went to Brighton merely for bathing, but was
soon honoured by the Prince’s company and confidence. He had combated
several of his prejudices, and this had not offended him; but the
Prince asked him to discuss matters with the King’s Ministers, who
would then report to the King. He then adds:
There is so much difficulty in putting upon paper the secret
circumstances I have learnt, or in detailing the imminent danger
to which H.R.H. is exposed from a manner of life that can be
thoroughly understood only by those who are eye-witnesses of it,
that, out of respect to the Prince, I shall be justified in not
dwelling upon so distressing a subject, but that I may be allowed
to advance, that in my opinion H.R.H. risks being lost to himself,
his family and his country if a total and sudden change does not
take place. I will even venture to add that the Prince is at this
moment not insensible that such a change is necessary and that
it is one of the motives which make him desirous of visiting the
Continent under such restrictions as the King may think proper to
advise.
Elliot adds that the Prince would travel only with Colonels Lee and
Slaughter and himself, if the King and Pitt approved of his going with
him. The Prince hoped to economize and so win back the good opinion of
the King and country. He (Elliot) would rejoice if he could further
this course.
The desire of the Prince for foreign travel ended with the return of
Mrs. Fitzherbert from her secret tour. The Prince’s pursuit of her now
became more eager than ever, and he succeeded in inspiring her with
feelings of love. Consequently, on 15th December 1785, he secretly
married her, having four days previously assured his bosom friend,
Fox, that there was no “ground for these reports which of late have
been so malevolently circulated.” It is now proved beyond possibility
of doubt that the marriage was legal (except in the political sense
above noticed), and that the Prince did his wife grievous wrong in
persistently denying the fact.[617] She, with all the proofs in her
possession, refrained from compromising him, and therefore had to
endure endless slights. Many persons had the good sense to place her
dignified silence far above his unblushing denials, and Society was
rent in twain by the great question--“Was he married or not?” In view
of these facts, is it desirable to present a full-length portrait of
His Royal Highness? The wonder is that even in his Perdita days his
name could ever be compared with the tenderest and most faithful of
Shakespeare’s lovers, Prince Florizel. That he allowed himself to be
painted in that guise argues singular assurance. Was not Cloten more
nearly his prototype?
It would be interesting to know whether the King and Queen were aware
of the secret marriage. The Queen in a private interview pressed him
to tell the truth; but he probably equivocated. Their action bespeaks
perplexity. In private they treated Mrs. Fitzherbert kindly, but never
received her at Court.[618] That Pitt was not ill-informed on the
subject appears from the following hitherto unpublished letter from his
brother, the Earl of Chatham. It is undated, but probably belongs to
the month of December 1785:
Hanley, Wednesday.[619]
MY DEAR BROTHER,
I have had a good deal of conversation with Sir C---- on the
subject you wished some information upon. The result of which
leaves no doubt on my mind of the P[rince] having not only offered
to marry Mrs. F., but taken measures towards its accomplishment.
Many circumstances confirm this opinion, but this much is, I think,
certain information, which is that the letters from the P. offering
it were shown by himself to Mrs. S---- L----, the mother, from whom
Sir Carnaby has it immediately, and the letter from Mrs. F. to her
mother, in which she informs her of her consent. Sir C---- has seen
an extract of, and is promised a copy of [it], which I shall see.
It must, however, I think, still remain very doubtful, till the
step is absolutely taken, whether it ever will, or whether it is
more than a last effort to gain her without; but Sir C. and all
her family seem perfectly convinced that he seriously and at all
events intends it. They are averse to it; but the person in the
P’^s confidence upon it and most employed in it is Mr. Errington,
husband of Lady Broughton. He is supposed to be the person who is
to go over as her relation to be present at the ceremony. I have
endeavoured to learn what I cou’d as to the point of whether she
wou’d change her religion or not. She at present says she will not;
but Sir C---- seems to think that she might be brought to that
whenever the marriage was declared. The present intention seems to
be that it should be kept secret, but that, her conscience thus
satisfied, she is to appear, and be received as, his mistress; and
I believe it is pretty certain that he has a promise from a certain
duchess to visit her and go about with her when she comes....
Clearly the Earl of Chatham came very near the truth. Sir Carnaby
Haggerston knew the secret, and chose to reveal a good deal of it.
Mr. Errington was the bride’s uncle, and gave her away at the secret
ceremony at her house in Park Lane on 15th December.[620] The Duchess
of Devonshire early recognized Mrs. Fitzherbert, and frequently
entertained her along with the Prince.
The _liaison_ with Mrs. Fitzherbert (for it was ostensibly nothing
more) of course did not lessen expenses at Carlton House. The Prince
insisted on her moving to a larger residence and entertaining on a
lavish scale. As for Carlton House, it “exhibited a perpetual scene
of excess, unrestrained by any wise superintendence.”[621] It was
therefore natural that the Prince’s friends should ply Parliament with
requests for larger funds in the spring of 1786. The matter came up,
not inappropriately, during debates on the deficiency in the Civil
List. That most brilliant of wits and most genial of boon companions,
Richard Brinsley Sheridan, had now espoused the Prince’s cause. With
his customary charm he dragged in the subject of the monetary woes
of his patron, pointing out that the dignity of the Crown demanded
an ampler provision and the payment of the existing debts. Pitt
replied that this matter was not before the House, and added that, as
he had received no instructions on the subject, he would not be so
presumptuous as to offer any private opinion on it.
Undeterred by this freezing rebuke to Sheridan, Fox on the next
day raised the same question, maintaining that it was a national
advantage for the Heir-Apparent to be able to live not merely in
ease but in splendour. This patriotic appeal fell on deaf ears. The
country gentlemen who on the score of expense had lately decided to
leave Portsmouth and Plymouth open to attack, were not likely to
vote away on the orgies of Carlton House an extra sum of £50,000 a
year, which in fourteen years would have made the two great dockyard
towns impregnable. Fox wisely refrained from pressing his demand, and
vouchsafed no explanation as to how the nation would benefit from the
encouragement of extravagance in Pall Mall.[622] Clearly the Prince’s
friends were in a hopeless minority. Accordingly he began more stoutly
than ever to deny his marriage with Mrs. Fitzherbert; but in such a
case character counts for more than oaths and asseverations.
So the miserable affair dragged on. The King refused every request
for help for the Prince, doubtless in the hope that debt would compel
him to give up his mistress. The debts therefore grew apace, until
in the summer of 1786 Carlton House was in danger of being seized by
the brokers. It is clear that Pitt sided with the King. George III
frequently commended him for his wise advice; but unfortunately nearly
all the letters from Pitt to his sovereign, especially on this topic,
long ago disappeared from the Library at Windsor, a highly suspicious
circumstance. We know, however, that, as early as March and April 1785,
the King approved the messages drawn up by Pitt from the Sovereign to
the Prince. In general they seem to have been drafted by the Minister;
and the following draft, in Pitt’s writing, but dated by the King
and with one slight correction, remains as proof that Pitt was the
mouthpiece for the royal rebukes. It is endorsed “Draft of Letter from
the King to the Prince of Wales”:
WINDSOR, _July 8, 1786_.[623]
After so often repeating to the Prince of Wales the same sentiments
on the subject of his applications, and with so little effect,
I should add nothing further at present. But I must express my
surprise at receiving a letter from him in which he states himself
to be convinced that he has no reason to expect either at present
or in future the smallest assistance from me. A reference to
my last letter[624] and to the former correspondence might shew
him what it was I expected before I could enter further on the
consideration of the business. If he chooses to interpret what has
passed into a refusal on my part to take measures in any case for
his assistance, the consequence of his doing so can be imputed only
to his own determination.[625]
That the details of the expenditure at Carlton House were laid before
Pitt is clear from the evidence contained in the Pitt Papers. The
packet entitled “Prince of Wales’s Debts,” affords piquant reading.
For, be it remembered, at the very time when Pitt was straining every
nerve to lessen the National Debt, to rebuild the navy, and to enable
England to look her enemies once more in the face, the Prince was
squandering money on rare wines, on gilding, ormolu, and on jewellery
for Mrs. Fitzherbert, £54,000 being considered a “not unreasonable
bill” by her latest biographer.[626] An official estimate fixes the
total expenditure of the Prince for the years 1784–86 at £369,977 (or
at the rate of £123,000 a year) and yet there were “arrears not yet
to hand.” Parliament had voted £30,000 for the furnishing of Carlton
House; but in 1787 the Prince consulted the welfare of the nation
by accepting an estimate of £49,700 for extensions and decorations;
and late in 1789 he sought still further to strengthen the monarchy
by spending £110,500 on further splendours. They included “a new
throne and State bed, furniture trimmed with rich gold lace, also
new decorations in the Great Hall, a Chinese Drawing-Room, etc.” The
Pitt Papers contain no reference to the sums spent on the Pavilion at
Brighton in the years 1785, 1786; but, even in its pre-oriental form,
it afforded singular proof of the desire of the Prince for quiet and
economy at that watering-place.
Much has been made of the retrenchments of July 1786, when the works
on Carlton House were suspended, and the half of that palatial
residence was closed. Whatever were the motives that prompted that
new development, it soon ceased, as the foregoing figures have shown.
The Prince’s necessities being as great as ever, he found means to
bring his case before Parliament in the debates of 20th, 24th, and
27th April 1787. Thereupon Pitt clearly hinted that the inquiry, if
made at all, must be made thoroughly, and that he would in that case
be most reluctantly driven “to the disclosure of circumstances which
he should otherwise think it his duty to conceal.” The House quivered
with excitement at the untactful utterance--one of Pitt’s few mistakes
in Parliament. Sheridan, with his usual skill and daring, took up the
challenge and virtually defied Pitt to do his worst. Pitt thereupon
declared that he referred solely to pecuniary matters.
Everyone, however, knew that the Fitzherbert question was really at
stake; and the general dislike to any discussion, even on the debts,
was voiced by the heavy Devonshire squire, who was to find immortality
in the “Rolliad.” Rolle asserted on 27th April that any such debate
would affect the constitution both in Church and State. Undaunted by
Sheridan’s salvos of wit, he stuck to his guns, with the result that on
the 30th Fox fired off a seemingly crushing discharge. As Sheridan had
declared that the Prince in no wise shrank from the fullest inquiry,
the Whig chieftain now solemnly assured the House that the reported
marriage with Mrs. Fitzherbert was a low and malicious calumny. When
the tenacious Devonian plied him with the final inquiry whether he
spoke from direct authority, Fox replied with the utmost emphasis that
he did.
We now know that Fox had been cruelly deceived by the Prince. But in
that age the assertion of Fox was considered as almost final, save by
those who marked the lofty scorn poured by Mrs. Fitzherbert on her
unwitting traducer. In Parliament the victory lay with the Prince; but
even there Rolle firmly refused to comply with Sheridan’s challenging
request and declare himself satisfied. To the outside world it was
clear that either the heir to the throne or Fox had lied.
The letters of George III to Pitt in May 1787 and Pitt’s suggestions
for a settlement of the dispute, show that the perturbed monarch placed
absolute confidence in his Minister. Very noteworthy is the King’s
assertion that there could be no reconciliation until his son consented
to marry and to retrench his expenditure. His letter of 20th May 1787
to Pitt further proves that the proposal to add £10,000 to the Prince’s
income emanated from Pitt, and was acquiesced in somewhat reluctantly
by the King.[627]
This expedient brought about a partial reconciliation between father
and son. On the strong recommendation of Pitt, Parliament allowed the
extra £10,000 a year, besides granting £20,000 on behalf of the new
works at Carlton House, and paying £161,000 towards the extinction of
the Prince’s debts, on his express assurance that he would not exceed
his income in the future. The vote was unanimous. Thereupon the King
waived the question of the Prince’s marriage; so at least we may infer
from the fact that they had a long interview on 25th May 1787 at the
Queen’s House (Buckingham House), at the close of which the Prince
proceeded to greet his mother and sisters. The parents had few happier
days than that; and their joy was crowned a little later by the return
of Frederick, Duke of York, after a long residence in Germany. Fanny
Burney describes the radiant gladness of the King and Queen as they
paced along the terrace at Windsor with their soldier son; and the
inhabitants of the royal city crowded to witness the pleasing scene.
It speaks well for the Prince of Wales, that he posted off from
Brighton on the news of his brother’s home-coming, in order to double
the pleasure of his parents. For a time, too, the Prince thought more
kindly of Pitt; so we may infer from the statement of St. Leger to the
Marquis of Buckingham that his feelings towards him had altered since
the negotiation on the subject of his debts.[628] But these sentiments
of gratitude soon vanished along with the virtuous and economical mood
of which they were the outcome. Those who break their word naturally
hate the man to whom they had pledged it.
In the winter of 1787–8 the two Princes again abandoned themselves to
drinking and gambling. The dead set made against Pitt over the Warren
Hastings trial and Indian affairs so far weakened his position that
the Princes counted on his fall and hoped for the advent to power of
the Fox-Sheridan clique. Certain it is that they drank and played very
deep. General Grant, writing to Cornwallis, 6th April 1788, says:
The Prince [of Wales] has taught the Duke [of York] to _drink_ in
the most liberal and copious way; and the Duke in return has been
equally successful in teaching his brother to lose his money at
all sorts of play--_Quinze_, Hazard, &c--to the amount, as we are
told, of very large sums in favour of India General Smith[629] and
Admiral Pigot who both wanted it very much. These play parties have
chiefly taken place at a new club formed this winter by the Prince
of Wales in opposition to Brooks’s, because Tarleton and Jack
Payne, proposed by H.R.H., were blackballed.[630]
At this new club, called the Dover House or Welzie’s club, the Prince
often won or lost £2,000 or £3,000 at a sitting. In other ways
Frederick sought to better his brother’s example, so that his company
was thought _mauvais ton_ by young nobles.[631]
Compared with these buffooneries, political opposition was a small
matter. But the King deeply resented the nagging tactics of his son
at any time of crisis. Such a time came in March 1788, when a sharp
dispute arose between Pitt and the East India Company. It originated
in the Dutch troubles of the previous summer. The prospect of war with
France was so acute that the India Board sent out four regiments in
order to strengthen the British garrisons in India. At the time the
Directors of the Company fully approved of this step; but when the
war-cloud blew over, they objected to pay the bill. Pitt insisted that
the India Act of 1784 made them liable for the transport of troops when
the Board judged it necessary; and in February 1788 he brought in a
Declaratory Bill to that effect.
At once the Company flung to the winds all sense of gratitude to its
saviour, and made use of the men who four years previously had sought
its destruction. Fox and Erskine figured as its champions, and the
Prince of Wales primed the latter well with brandy before he went in to
attack Pitt. The result was a lamentable display of Billingsgate, of
which Pitt took no notice, and the Ministry triumphed by 242 against
118 (3rd March).
But the clamour raised against the measure had more effect two nights
later, when Fox dared Pitt to try the case in a court of law. Instead
of replying, Pitt feebly remarked that he desired to postpone his
answer to a later stage of the debates. This amazing torpor was
ascribed to a temporary indisposition; but only the few were aware that
the Prime Minister had drunk deeply the previous night at the Marquis
of Buckingham’s house in Pall Mall in the company of Dundas and the
Duchess of Gordon--that spirited lady whose charms are immortalized in
the song, “Jenny o’ Menteith.”[632] Wit and joviality were now replaced
by a heaviness that boded ill for the Ministry, whose majority sank
to fifty-seven. Two days later, however, Pitt pulled himself and his
party together, accepted certain amendments relating to patronage, but
crushed his opponents on the main issue. To the annoyance of the Prince
of Wales and Fox, the Government emerged triumphant from what had
seemed to be certain disaster. Wraxall never wrote a truer word than
when he ascribed Pitt’s final triumph to his character. Even in his
temporary retreat he had commanded respect, so that Burke, who hurried
up exultingly from the Warren Hastings trial, was fain to say that the
Prime Minister scattered his ashes with dignity and wore his sackcloth
like a robe of purple.
The prestige of the Ministry shone once more with full radiance on the
Budget night (5th May 1788). Pitt pointed out that the past year had
been a time of exceptional strain. The Dutch crisis and the imminence
of war with France had entailed preparations which cost nearly
£1,200,000. The relief of the Prince of Wales absorbed in all £181,000.
The sum of £7,000,000 had been expended in the last four years on
improvements in the naval service. He had raised no loan and imposed
no new taxes. Nevertheless, the sum of £2,500,000 had been written
off from the National Debt, and even so, there was a slight surplus
of £17,000. The condition of the finances of France supplied the
Minister with a telling contrast. It was well known that, despite many
retrenchments, the deficit amounted to £2,300,000. In these financial
statements we may discern the cause of the French Revolution and of the
orderly development of England.
In vain did Fox and Sheridan seek to dissipate the hopes aroused by the
Chancellor of the Exchequer. So experienced a financier as Pulteney
justified his statement, and the country at large felt assured of the
advent of a time of abounding prosperity. As for France, the inability
of her statesmen, even of Necker, to avert the crisis caused by
reckless borrowing and stupid taxation, seemed to be the best possible
guarantee for peace. Pitt’s concern at the re-appointment of Necker in
August 1788 appears in a letter to Grenville in which he describes it
as almost the worst event that could happen--a curious remark which
shows how closely he connected the power of a State with its financial
prosperity.[633] Thus the year 1788 wore on, with deepening gloom for
France, and with every appearance of calm and happiness for the Island
Power, until a mysterious malady struck down the King and involved
everything in confusion.