King’s Speech.--Debates on the impending War.--Speeches of Barré and
Lord Barrington.--Imprudent Declaration of the Latter.--Opposition
of Wilkes to the system of Pressing.--Curious Conduct of Sir
Walter Blacket.--Motion for Papers on the Falkland Islands,
in both Houses, rejected.--News from Spain.--Alleged want of
Preparation of England.--Intemperance of Charles Fox and the Duke
of Richmond.--Lord Chatham attacks the Administration in the
House of Lords.--Preparations for War.--Lord Mansfield delivers
a Copy of his Determination in Woodfall’s Trial.--Remarkable
Scene.--Members of the Lower ejected from the Upper House.--Debate
on Lord Mansfield’s Paper.--Abruptly Terminated.--Why not
Resumed.--Debate on the Ejection of the Commons.--Duel between
Governor Johnstone and Lord George Sackville.--Instance of
Scotch Nationality.--Resignation of Lord Weymouth.--Observations
on his Character and Conduct.--Opinion of Francés the French
Resident.--Downfall of the Duc de Choiseul.--Its Causes.--The Duc
D’Aiguillon and the Parliament of Bretagne.--Persecution of La
Chalotais.--Treachery of the Prince of Condé.--The Duc retires to
Chanteloup in Touraine.
1770.
The King’s speech to both Houses affected firmness, though it betrayed
a want of it; for, though it blustered, and called the Falkland
Islands _the possession_ of his Crown, and promised not only to support
the just rights and interests of his people, but went so far as to say
he would not disarm till convinced of the sincerity of other powers
(meaning France); yet, by imputing the seizure of the Isle to the
Governor of Buenos Ayres, as if not authorized by the Crown of Spain,
it openly presented an excuse which the King of Spain might make, if
he would be so good as to condescend so far. Nor could the suspicion
dropped against the sincerity of France avail much; they knew our Court
too well to misinterpret our real disposition. As the Opposition was
more in doubt what part the Ministers did actually intend to take,
and as Mr. Grenville’s death prevented the appearance of the Lords
Temple, Chatham, and Lyttelton, little was said in either House, except
a few words by Lord Rockingham and the Duke of Richmond, the former
of whom seemed rather to approve war, as did the complexion of both
Houses. Lord North spoke prudently, but confessing he did not think the
Falkland Islands an adequate occasion of war. Colonel Barré attacked
the Ministers on their neglect (and, indeed, the lapse of a year since
the first advice of Spain’s hostile intentions was the great blemish of
the business); they had, he said, wasted three years in hunting down a
wretched scribbler, (Wilkes,) while all the world knew that Gibraltar
and Ireland were defenceless (a most indiscreet avowal at the eve of a
war!) He did not know who advised in military matters, yet he knew who
did _not_, though so very proper; but that person, (Conway,) he heard,
had retired from the Cabinet Council. “Yes,” cried he, correcting
himself, and turning towards Lord Barrington, “I know who has sometimes
commanded” (alluding to the slaughter in St. George’s Fields).
The contemptible description of Wilkes was in consequence of Lord
Shelburne’s plan of annihilating that demagogue, against whom Parson
Horne was now waging open, though anonymous, war in the newspapers. The
Court had soon afterwards the satisfaction of seeing them worry one
another in print by name.
Barré’s attack called up Lord Barrington, who uttered the most
improper, the most impertinent, and most offensive speech, _in every
light_, that could be conceived. He did not know, he declared, an
officer in England fit to be commander-in-chief. Could any man name
one to him? where was any such man? if there was, if anybody would
point him out, he would recommend him to his Majesty. “It was said,”
continued he, “in Queen Anne’s reign, that Dr. Ratcliffe and an old
woman could cure an ague; so, the Adjutant-General (General Harvey) and
he (Barrington) could make the best commander-in-chief.” Disgraceful
as such a declaration was, if true,--indiscreet to make to the enemy,
a war approaching,--indecent to the Duke of Gloucester, who was
sitting in the gallery,--to General Conway, on whom all eyes turned,
as on one on whom the choice would of course fall,--and insolent as
it was to all our other Generals; yet had not absurdity dictated this
public affront to the army--an affront offered by the Secretary at
War. Knowingly, nay artfully, had the dirty little creature exposed
himself to so much resentment. He knew, in short, that the King was
jealous of the command of the army; that he trusted to its attachment
against any violence from his subjects; that he would not confide
even in his devoted brother, nor in the integrity (because founded
on constitutional principles) of General Conway. It was an officious
declaration that commander-in-chief there was to be none; it was an
indirect method of saving the King the pain, or rather the blush, of
refusing the command to his brother; and the King’s ensuing silence,
and his continued favour to Barrington, left no doubt but the zeal
was kindly accepted.[115] The offence grated the chief officers, men
of renowned bravery and service, such particularly as the Generals
Amherst and Monckton. Lord Waldegrave and General Howard took up the
affront warmly without doors, and happy was the officious tool to
escape without a personal quarrel. It was not, perhaps, the least
part of his elaborate indecency, that, had a war ensued, the soldiery
might have been impressed with contemptuous ideas of their leaders;
but servility cares not how much it sacrifices national interest when
pursuing its own. General Harvey, the King’s real confidant in military
business, pretended to lament that Lord Barrington had pointed him
out as responsible for the army--a modesty calculated to enforce the
impression.
In consequence of Wilkes’s opposition to pressing, Brass Crosby, the
new Lord Mayor, one of his most steady partisans,[116] consulted
Lord Chatham on the legality of that practice. That lord, not apt to
discountenance any measure that tended to carry on war against the
House of Bourbon, recommended to the magistrate to consult Dunning,
Glynn, and Wedderburne. To his queries, whether the Admiralty were
authorized to issue press warrants of themselves, or under the
direction of the Privy Council; whether the warrant annexed was legal;
and whether the Lord Mayor was compellable to back those warrants,
and at what risk if he refused; the three lawyers replied, that the
practice was warranted by length of time and national defence, and
even in some cases by the legislature; that it had been noticed in
courts of law, and without reproof; and that they saw no objection
to its being executed by the Admiralty under the direction of the
Privy Council; that the form of the warrant did indeed to them seem
very objectionable, but that for that very reason the sanction of the
magistrate was the more requisite to check and control the abuse; and
therefore, though they did not deem the Lord Mayor compellable to sign
the warrant, nor liable to punishment for refusing, they referred it
to his Lordship’s prudence, whether for the peace of the City and
preservation of the subject, he would not conform to the practice of
most of his predecessors on such occasions.
This decision not being satisfactory to the party, the City chose to
bestow premiums on voluntary enlisters; in which they were followed by
Bristol, Edinburgh, and a few other towns. At the same time another
remonstrance to the King was voted by the Common Council, though not
unanimously, and was presented on the 21st by the Lord Mayor, attended
by Trecothick, Townshend, Oliver, Stephenson, and a few more. His
Majesty told them, that having seen no cause to alter his opinion
expressed in his former answer, he could not comply with their request
to dissolve the Parliament.
A strange incident, though of no consequence, deserves to be mentioned,
as it will show what deep impression the temper of the times had
made on an honest mind, though the general corruption of the age
had regarded the constitutional considerations lately agitated, as
questions of interest rather than of principle. Sir Walter Blacket, a
rich independent gentleman, had, though a Tory, voted the last year
that Wilkes was capable of sitting as member for Middlesex,--a vote
he had probably given against his opinion to secure his popularity
at Newcastle, a town not less remarkable than London or Lynn for its
attachment to liberty and to the cause of Wilkes. Sir Walter appeared
suddenly in the House of Commons, and rising, _à propos_ to nothing,
with much perturbation, told the House that he had laboured under
extreme anxiety of mind and repentance for the vote he had given in
favour of Wilkes; that he had had no peace since--had gone abroad for
his health--was that moment returned, and, getting out of his chaise,
would not wait an instant till he had satisfied his conscience; that
he hoped this declaration would be for ever remembered, and that the
resolution against Wilkes would never be cancelled,[117]--a delicacy of
conscience that did honour to the penitent; but, good God! how weak are
men, when priests and the partisans of power can infuse such sentiments
into their devotees in favour of arbitrary government; and when sense,
self-preservation, and tenderness of their posterity’s security, cannot
instil equal compunction into those who betray the common rights of
mankind! Sir Walter’s scruples were regarded as the effects of a weak
head and sick body: Lord Mansfield, Wedderburne, Norton, and an hundred
more, were men of strong understandings, and never repented. Even
cowardice could not amend the first. He went so far in the coldest fit
of his panic as to order a new trial of the printer of Junius, because
the jury had inserted the word _only_ in their sentence, pretending it
implied a discordance in their verdict.
On the 22nd of November, the Duke of Richmond moved the Lords to
address the King for copies of all papers relating to the seizure
of the Falkland Islands. Lord Weymouth objected, pleading that the
negotiation was actually pending; the demand might, in a week, be
proper. Lord Chatham, who supported the motion, turned his fire chiefly
against the opposers of pressing, and declared that if any lord would
move it, he would second him for bringing to the bar of the House the
Alderman who had obstructed the practice. Lord Hillsborough, who was a
pompous composition of ignorance and want of judgment,[118] told the
House most indiscreetly, that he had seen the Spanish papers, and
would venture to say that we should have full satisfaction in three
days. The Duke of Richmond (so little connection was there in the
Opposition) declared against pressing. Provoked at this contradiction,
and glad of an opportunity of worrying inferior capacity, Lord Chatham,
at whose desire the motion had been made, broke out against Lord
Hillsborough and against the Opposition too. To revenge himself on the
Duke, he spoke of the Opposition with contempt, and told them, that
though the Ministers might do wrong, their opponents were too weak to
force them out of place; that for himself he was connected with nobody
(a needless declaration, as all men saw); that he despised popularity,
and was not likely, from his age or inclinations, ever to be Minister
again (the latter, a fruitless declaration, that all men disbelieved).
Of Lord Hillsborough he said, that all our present misfortunes were
owing to his tyranny and ignorance; and that, except Lord Rochford, not
one of the Ministers had seen six weeks of business before they were
raised to the first employments in the State. Gibraltar, he declared,
was so weak, that the Spaniards might walk into it when they pleased,
and then into England; and that there were not above eleven ships
manned in our service. In the City, he said, there was a malevolent
party who did nothing but mischief (meaning Wilkes and his adherents--a
tribute he paid to his friend, Lord Shelburne); and he abused the rich
men there and the Asiatic opulence of Leadenhall Street,--men who
thought of nothing but obtaining commissaryships and commissions of
remittance; and with his usual pretensions to intelligence, offered
to bet a thousand pounds that Spain had already struck some important
blow,--an insinuation (though unfounded) that gave an alarm as if
Gibraltar were already taken. In answer to the charge on the Ministers
of inexperience, Lord Weymouth reminded him that his Lordship himself,
and his friend, Lord Shelburne, and ally, Lord Rockingham, had stood
in the same predicament of ignorance of business, when they appeared
at the head of affairs; and he told the Duke of Richmond, who had
threatened their heads, that if the Opposition had no mercy, he
would at least confide in their justice. Lord Lyttelton said he was
so sensible of our unprovided situation, that he was afraid even to
express his fears. Lord Shelburne was severe on the Duke of Grafton.
Lord Sandwich boasted of enjoying and liking to enjoy the smiles of
the Court, which all Ministers, he said, had ever sought to possess,
except a late detestable and insignificant set. Lord Rockingham, at
whom the arrow was levelled, asked, if Lord Sandwich and his friends
had possessed the smiles of the Court when they were turned out for
their insolence on the Regency Bill? At eight at night the motion was
rejected by 61 to 25.
The same question moved by Dowdeswell the same day in the other
House met with the like fate, being rejected by 225 against 201. But
the victim of the debate was Lord Barrington, who was so roughly
handled by Colonel Barré and General Howard on his late declaration
of the incapacity of the general officers, that his confusion and
absurdity augmented each other,--he at once, and in the same breath,
adhering to his former opinion, and yet maintaining that he had been
misunderstood. The persecution continuing, the Speaker was forced to
interpose and bring him off. General Conway, speaking severely of those
who endeavoured to alienate the affections of the subjects from the
King, was warmly attacked by Burke, who represented the accusation as
addressed to the Parliamentary opponents, whom Conway denied he had
meant, saying, he had great esteem for some of them, especially for one
family (the Cavendishes), and for whom he had great gratitude, too.
This was in contradistinction to Lord Rockingham and Burke, one of whom
had neglected, and the other attacked him.[119]
The courier from Spain had arrived on the 19th, and it was believed
that the Prince of Masserano had at the same time received powers
to give us satisfaction. This opinion, and Lord Hillsborough’s
declaration, had raised the stocks; which fell again in a few days,
when it was known that, though Spain did not refuse to restore the
island, yet she insisted on our acknowledging her right to it,--a
concession rendered doubly difficult on our part by the King’s speech,
in which he had pronounced it the right of his people, and promised
as such to maintain it. Whatever latitude was allowed to the Spanish
Ambassador, it was no wonder that he was tenacious of his master’s
pretensions, when Lord North had acknowledged publicly that he did not
think the island worth going to war for, and when Lord Chatham had no
less publicly proclaimed our weakness both to Spain and France. Mr.
Grenville’s singular declaration on Corsica had encouraged the French
to pursue their point against that island; and though the opinion of
each might well be defended, neither Lord North nor Mr. Grenville had
been driven by a clamour for war to avow their pacific sentiments.
Lord Chatham excused his display of our inability by pleading that
France and Spain must have known our situation without his avowal of
it; but it was an ill-timed modesty in him, who was not ignorant how
much haughtiness and defiance from his mouth imposed on both those
Courts. There was, in truth, great want of men at this time from many
causes. The superior pay given by the merchants, the loss of men in the
late war not yet repaired, the draughts for India, and considerable
migration from Scotland and Ireland to the Colonies, had drained the
country. The navy was in a wretched condition; Lord Egmont, while head
of the Admiralty, had wasted between four and five hundred thousand
pounds on pompous additions to the dockyards. His successor, Sir Edward
Hawke, though so brave and fortunate a commander, had never been a man
of abilities, and was now worn out, grown indolent, and was almost
superannuated, paying so little attention to the fleet, that the ships
were rotted in harbour, and of five ordered to Gibraltar, four had
returned as being in too bad a condition to proceed, and the fifth was
found rotten before it went to sea. This was as imprudently mentioned
in debate by the Duke of Richmond,--an inconvenience resulting from
the publicity of our counsels, and a weapon not justifiably, though
frequently used by Oppositions. It was more inexcusable that even
the newspapers took the liberty of advertising our enemies of our
deficiencies, or of what they imagined our intended measures, of which
I will quote an instance. The “Swallow” sloop was sheathed with copper.
Being the first attempt of the kind, the newspapers concluded, and
printed their idea, that she was destined to the West Indies; thus
pointing out to the jealousy and enmity of Spain a proper object of
their attention.
The suspicions of the public that war must ensue were increased on the
24th at night, all officers being suddenly ordered to their posts, and
Lord Howe appointed Commander of the squadron in the Mediterranean.
Yet we had not above sixteen ships manned, and the regiments were very
incomplete. Happily the navy of Spain was as ill provided with men,
and in no condition to profit by our defenceless position. At the same
time arrived the new Ambassador from France, the Comte de Guines,--a
symptom, at least, that Choiseul, to whom he was attached, was
desirous we should believe that France intended peace. The negotiation,
however, remained in the hands of Monsieur Francés, as more conversant
with the preceding transaction. This was a very shrewd artful man,
who had privately, some time before his public appearance, lived here
unknown for three years, in which time he made himself master of our
language and affairs. He was the confidential creature of Choiseul.
Still was not Wilkes or the Middlesex election forgotten. Mr. Phipps
moved in the House of Commons for leave to bring in a bill to correct
informations _ex officio_. Dunning and Wedderburne supported the
motion; but it was rejected by 150 to 70.[120] It was not to the
honour of the popular hero (Wilkes) that he was at this time cast in
a suit brought against him by a French jeweller whom he had defrauded
of jewels at Paris. A season of such warmth naturally produced many
personalities in Parliament. Charles Fox, the rising genius of the
time, had a gross altercation with Wedderburne on an amendment proposed
to Mr. Grenville’s bill for regulating elections, in which the House
was forced to interpose, and obliged both to ask pardon for their
intemperance. A parallel adventure happened among the Lords in a
debate for continuing the prohibition of exporting corn, when the
Duke of Richmond saying that their chamber was reduced to sit only
for registering the dictates of the Crown, or for concurring with the
decrees of the Commons, Lord Halifax rose with much heat, said it
was a false accusation, and he would never hear such words. It was
true that the Chancellor Hardwicke had governed that assembly with
solemn decency, and, by his own authority, and that of the Pelhams,
had restrained much of the liberty of debate; yet not long before,
John Duke of Argyle, and others at other periods, had not suffered
themselves to be manacled by such formality. It is as true, on the
other hand, that the House of Lords being an assembly far less numerous
than the Commons, is less turbulent and more observant of decorum. The
nobility, too, are by principle more devoted to the Crown, and having
less occasion to make their fortunes by eloquence and the cultivation
of talents (though not less corrupt) than the Commons, acquiesce from
inability to the dictates of two or three eminent lawyers, whom the
Crown occasionally raises to the peerage, after preferring them to the
Great Seal or to the posts of Chief Justices.
Lord Chatham, the same day, not intimidated by Lord Halifax’s passion,
who was a proud empty man, and mistook anger for argument, moved
to call for Captain Hunt of the “Tamer” sloop, who had been driven
off the Falkland Islands by the Spaniards. Lord Chatham made a fine
oration, and, though often vexed by the Lords Sandwich and Denbigh,
was, when Lord Mansfield was silent, as his fears now made him, far
superior to all his other adversaries; they were babies to him. He
said the Ministers had bungled themselves into such a situation that
they could neither make war nor peace; that he should have arguments
against them, of whichever they should make option; that he would
insist on restitution and reparation, though he supposed they were then
actually begging peace at Versailles. He had been blamed, he said, for
indiscretion in divulging the nakedness of his country; but it had been
parental kindness to give warning to the Ministers: and what had he
divulged that was not known to every coffee-house boy in Portsmouth? He
endeavoured to soften his late attack on the City, avowing, at the same
time, that he had not, nor ever had had, any connection with Wilkes.
But highly he commended the integrity of Sawbridge, whom he was sorry
he had not talked with before that Alderman had opposed pressing. It
was more remarkable that he paid many compliments to the candour of
Lord Weymouth; the other Ministers, in general, he said, were ignorant,
futile, and incapable. Lord Weymouth, as if in concert, professed
himself ready to resign his post, but declared against Opposition.
Neither Lord Temple nor Lord Camden were present at the debate, nor the
Lords attached to the late Mr. Grenville. The motion was rejected by
55 to 21, as was, by one less on each side, another motion, likewise
made by Lord Chatham, for inquiring at what time the Ministers had
received intelligence that the Spaniards intended to seize the Falkland
Islands;--they had known it in the preceding December--eleven months!
The French had previously settled on a neighbouring little island,
but had quitted it to countenance the violence of Spain,--proof
sufficient of their co-operation in that hostility; not that Choiseul
was circumstanced in a manner that would authorize him to assist them
openly in hostilities, but the treaty of Paris had convinced him of the
aversion to war in our Cabinet,--a conclusion that now deceived him,
and drew him into inextricable perplexity, as I shall show presently.
Indeed, considering that, victorious or vanquished, we always make
disgraceful treaties, the nation had little cause to prefer war. Forty
thousand seamen were now voted.
At this period, died the parent of the approaching war, the Earl of
Egmont, a man always ambitious, almost always attached to a Court, yet,
from a singularity in his fortune, scarce ever in place.[121]
On the 5th of December, Lord Chatham moved a resolution, (which was
rejected by 52 to 20,) the purport of which was, that the capacity of
being chosen a member of Parliament was ascertained by law, and could
not be set aside by any separate branch of the legislature. Lord
Camden supported the motion, but declaring he stood unconnected with,
and unattached to, any man.[122] Lord Mansfield, to soften his dreaded
adversary, Lord Chatham, paid many compliments to him on his support
of pressing; but, on his having urged the necessity of dissolving the
Parliament, represented to him the impropriety of such a tempestuous
measure at the beginning of a war; yet no war was begun, and, from the
long suspense, men began to conclude that no war would be declared.
The Spanish Ambassador was assiduous at Court, was affectedly caressed
there, and made no preparations for departing.
But, though Lord Mansfield thus deprecated the wrath of Lord Chatham,
the indignation of the friends of freedom was not so appeased.
Serjeant Glynn moved for an examination into the conduct of the King’s
Bench, and Alderman Oliver named Lord Mansfield as the author of the
grievances from that Court. The House sat till near one in the morning,
but the question was lost by 75 against 180.[123]
The next day, Colonel Onslow complained to the House, and read, from
a magazine called the London Museum, a copy of a letter sent by the
Society of the Bill of Rights to the Colonies, (signed by Serjeant
Glynn amongst others,) which almost invited them to rebel, and was
a strong libel on the Parliament.[124] The King, in his speech, had
specified parts of the colony of Massachusett’s Bay as guilty of very
illegal practices and violences, _though he had confessed[125] that, in
most of the other Colonies, the people had begun to depart from their
combinations against the mother country. New York, in particular, had
refused to concur in them._
The next day, an augmentation of twelve thousand men to the army was
voted, a wise measure, as preparation for war is the best preventive.
Yet had we reason to depend on the pacific disposition of the French
Prime Minister. In a great council held at Versailles, the Abbé du
Terray, Comptroller-General, a personal enemy of Choiseul, proposed to
join with Spain in the war, (either to sound Choiseul’s intentions, or
thinking him not inclined to war,) and engaged to find the necessary
funds. He was supported by his instigator, the Chancellor Maupeou; but
the Duc de Choiseul, (either suspecting a trap, or to pay court to his
master, who was most averse to the war,) with great ability, knowledge,
and eloquence, proved so irrefragably the impossibility of finding
money sufficient, that the Comptroller-General confessed himself
convinced by the Duke’s arguments.
When the army was voted, General Conway took notice that though the
House was voting so large an addition, yet no method was taken for
raising men. He hinted at several plans, particularly for levying
German Protestants; and he observed how much the militia, become
the favourite of several Lords, engrossed the best recruits; his
own nephew, Lord Beauchamp, often gave thirty or forty pounds for a
sergeant from the Guards for his own regiment. Sir Gilbert Elliot,
after the debate, remarked that Conway had _only_ clashed with his
nephew, his friends, and the Minister. Grenville often said, that
he had rather have Conway against him than for him, as then he knew
all the hurt Conway could do to him. He was, it is true, too great a
refiner; but what he thought right was always his guide, unless when
his judgment was warped by paying too much regard to the good opinion
of men--blemishes that, like the small spots of ermine, were only
striking from the purity of the ground, and from the extreme rarity
of ground so pure. The hues of Elliot and Grenville were not of such
unsullied white. Conway had now been trying to drive Lord Barrington
to embrace some plan, and had hinted many to the King, who never took
any further notice of them, it being his Majesty’s rule, as Lord
Holland had formerly told me, never to talk to any man but on the
business of his department; and Conway, though the deepest master of
his profession in the island, happened not to be secretary! That silly
caution had been infused into the King by the Princess and Lord Bute,
lest it should give the person consulted an opportunity of gaining his
confidence, by launching out beyond their province: every audience
terminated when each minister had received his orders. To decline
receiving information from so able an officer as Conway, and one whom
he knew and had declared so disinterested and unambitious, was not
the method of rendering himself proper to conduct the army; and Lord
Barrington was too ignorant beyond the routine of office to instruct,
and too servile to contradict him. General Edward Harvey, the other
royal confidant in military matters, was a mere disciplinarian, and not
feared by the junto, being of no abilities or importance.
On the 10th of December was great expectation of some solemn scene,
Lord Mansfield having given notice to the Lords on the 7th, that he
had matter of importance to lay before them. It was supposed that
he intended to make his defence against all the late accusations.
Though that did not prove entirely the case, the day turned out very
remarkable. The House was crowded with members of the Commons, with
strangers, and even foreigners. Lord Mansfield produced and delivered
to the clerk a paper, containing the determination made by himself and
the four other judges of the King’s Bench, on Woodfall’s demand of a
new trial, which they had refused to grant, and the reasons for which
refusal they had read, as their decree, in court. This decree, he said,
having been mentioned in that House with indirect blame, and much
misrepresented to the public, he had brought that account to be perused
by their Lordships, who, if they pleased, might take copies of it. He
made no motion, nor desired any notice to be taken of his paper, which
he delivered to the clerk. Lord Chatham, in commending his candour in
submitting his conduct to examination, excepted against the mode, and
threw out many oblique censures. Lord Camden also, not approving the
manner, said, he supposed Lord Mansfield did not mean to have the paper
entered in the journals; to which Lord Mansfield answering he did not,
the affair broke off, and Lord Camden went away.
The Duke of Manchester then rose to make a motion, and opening on
the defenceless state of the nation, mentioned the four ships sent
to Gibraltar, and obliged to return from being in too bad condition
to proceed. He was going on, but was called to order by Lord Gower,
who said those points were not fit to be divulged to the public and
to foreign ministers; and insisted on the House being cleared of
strangers, which, by the standing orders of both Houses, any member
may do in the House to which he belongs, and which cannot be refused;
but Lord Gower, entering into debate, which no man may do when he
calls another to order, he was called to order himself; the Duke of
Richmond adding, that the Ministry did not dare to hear their faults
laid open. Prodigious confusion ensued; and Lord Chatham, in a violent
emotion of rage, insisted on being heard, which was impossible from
the tumult; and he would have distinguished between the occasion and
the general standing order, which, he maintained Lord Gower had had no
right to call for, as the subject had not been the order of the day;
but he was wrong--and the majority called out violently to have the
order put in execution: but the members of the other House refused
to retire, Dowdeswell declaring he would be the last man that should
go out. This resistance was unjustifiable, and without example. Four
other commoners, who had brought up a bill from the other House,
said they were come with a message, and had a right to be there; but
they too were in the wrong, for the rule is, that they should give
notice to the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod, and he, acquainting
the Lords, is sent to call the messengers to the bar, which had not
been done. However, the servants of the House of Lords were forced to
thrust out the Commons by violence, while Lord Chatham, roaring in
vain and unregarded, walked out of the House in a rage, and the Court
Lords continuing to call out “Clear the House! clear the House!” the
Duke of Richmond cried out aloud, “So you will of every honest man!”
and followed Lord Chatham, as did the Dukes of Bolton, Manchester,
Portland, Devonshire, Northumberland, the Marquis of Rockingham, the
Earls of Huntingdon, Abingdon, Fitzwilliam, Viscount Torrington, and
the Lords Abergavenny, Archer, Besborough, Shelburne, and Milton.
Lord Lyttelton was not present: Lord Hardwicke remained with the
courtiers.[126]
The members of the Commons went down in a fury to their own House;
Burke and the opponents rejoicing in an opportunity of endeavouring to
make a breach between the two Houses. George Onslow of the Treasury, a
noisy, indiscreet man, who sometimes did well recollect his father’s
inflexible maintenance of the dignity of the Commons, but whose
connections should not have led him to encourage the opponents in
setting the two Houses at variance, made complaint of the injurious
manner in which they had been thrust out by force, and moved for a
Committee to inspect the journals of the Lords on that occasion, the
only regular manner of coming at the proceedings, for the House of
Lords being a court of record, their journals are open to the public,
which is not the case with the other House. Lord North, to humour
the Commons, joined in the blame, but dissuaded the motion. It was
battled, however, for two hours; and some Lords who had come thither,
were turned out: but the motion was rejected by the influence of the
courtiers.[127]
The same day General Conway laid before the House a plan for adding
a thousand men to the regiment of artillery on a cheap scheme of
17,000_l._, which, if executed in the ordinary method, would have
cost 24,000_l._ Hearing that they would oppose it, he had sent his
plan to Lord George (Sackville) Germaine and Colonel Barré, but both
returned it with compliments, the first saying he should only make some
objections to the mode; the other that he should not oppose it. They
both now did make some objections; and others of the Opposition blamed
Conway for not having digested more plans for the army. Conway answered
that he had done his duty in his office, but was not consulted beyond
it, nor in any confidence. This was a declaration they wished. T.
Townshend the younger and others exclaimed on _his_ not being trusted!
What could the country expect, they said, if such a man, and at the
head of his profession, was in no confidence with the Ministers? Conway
replied, he had not complained, nor did he complain; he had stated the
fact, and was content with the confidence placed in him by his master.
His plan was adopted.
On the 11th, the seceding Lords returned to their House, and fourteen
entered a protest against their being impeded from proceeding the day
before.
Lord Camden then severely resumed Lord Mansfield’s conduct in
delivering the paper, which, in fact, was universally condemned as
timid, wanting dignity, and narrowed to a single case, when many
more accusations were stirring against him. The proceeding itself,
Lord Camden said, was most irregular, and the substance of the paper
deserving particular reprehension. He had considered the paper with
the utmost care, but had found it unintelligible. That if taken in one
sense of the words, he understood, and should agree to it: but there
was another obvious to which the words were liable; and if taken in
that sense, he would pledge himself to the House to prove them illegal
and unconstitutional; and therefore he must desire to put to his
Lordship some interrogatories.[128]
Lord Mansfield, with most abject soothings, paid the highest
compliments to Lord Camden, and declared how much he had always
courted his esteem; and therefore from his candour had not expected
that treatment. He professed he had studied the point more than
any other in his life, and had consulted all the judges on it,
except indeed his Lordship: but that he must object to being
taken by surprise, nor could he submit to answer interrogatories.
“Interrogatories!” cried Lord Chatham, starting up, “was ever anything
heard so extraordinary? is it taking that noble lord by surprise who
has just declared that he has studied the point all his life, and has
taken the opinions of all the judges on it? And of all mankind does
it become that Lord to refuse interrogatories, who has so recently
imprisoned a man [Brindley] for a year or two, for refusing to submit
to them?” But the point, he gave the noble Lord notice should be
fathomed, and he would bring it to issue. However, he would give his
Lordship time, and would let the matter sleep till after the holidays:
but he insisted that Lord Camden’s paper of interrogatories should be
left with the clerk, as Lord Mansfield’s had been; which the House
could not refuse.
The dismay and confusion of Lord Mansfield was obvious to the whole
audience; nor did one peer interpose a syllable in his behalf; even the
Court (whom he had been serving by wresting the law, and perverting
it to the destruction of liberty, and his guilt in which practices
was proclaimed by his dastard conscience) despised his pusillanimity
and meanness; for to avert the indignation of the other side, he had
declared in his speech that he was not attached to the Ministry, nor
had any obligations to the King. Lord Frederic Campbell, his friend,
but hurt at his wretched shuffling, told me, the persecution had been
stirred up by Mansfield’s own tool and associate Sir Fletcher Norton,
who hoped it would drive him to give up the vast post of Chief Justice,
to which Norton, despairing of the great Seal, flattered himself he
should succeed.
So much consciousness of guilt on Lord Mansfield’s part, with so much
inveteracy on Lord Chatham’s, promised a scene worthy of the public
attention. Will it be believed that not a word more was said on the
subject, either when the Parliament reassembled after the holidays,
or during the whole remainder of the session? At the end of April, I
asked the Duke of Richmond the meaning of that silence; he gave me this
solution:--“Early in the session Constantine Phipps told Mr. Dowdeswell
that he intended to move for an inquiry into the conduct of the judges
relative to juries. Dowdeswell said it would be best to have a meeting
upon it. ‘No,’ said Phipps, ‘I do not like meetings: men are often
borne down at them against their opinions. I will give notice of my
intention without further concert.’ Serjeant Glynn said he would do the
same the next day. Dowdeswell told him there was not time for concert:
it would be like the Minister reading the King’s speech at the cockpit,
after it has been settled. Glynn, however, gave his notice. On that the
Rockingham party determined to act for themselves, and drew up a bill
to ascertain what directions judges should give to juries. They showed
it to Lord Chatham after he had attacked Lord Mansfield. He disapproved
it much, but offered to support it if they would make it more personal
to Lord Mansfield. They refused.[129] All they meant, they said, was
prospect, not retrospect: as if branding a crime committed, were not a
better guard than a provision against committing it. Then he must be
against them, said Lord Chatham. They consulted Lord Camden. He told
them Lord Chatham had driven him into the attack on Lord Mansfield,
which he did not like, and in which at last he declared he would meddle
no farther:[130] he did not care to have all the twelve judges against
him. When the Rockinghams moved their bill, Dunning, Lord Shelburne,
and the rest of Lord Chatham’s connection were strongly against them.”
Some few days after the Duke had given me this account, Lord Chatham’s
cause against Sir William Pynsent’s relation, which the Earl had
brought by appeal before the House of Lords, and had by them been
referred to the judges, came on before their Lordships for the judges
to make their report. They were preparing to give their opinions, five
on one side, and three on the other, when Lord Mansfield arriving,
said a new idea had struck him, and he was sure he could reconcile the
sentiments of all the judges. He stated his position (which is not to
my purpose to detail), they pocketed their briefs and notes, said they
were persuaded they should all return of one opinion the next day,
and retired. They did return, and gave the cause for Lord Chatham,
not without censure from the public on the two Lords; the one, as
men thought, buying his indemnity by the sacrifice of another man’s
property; the other waiving justice due to the public to purchase the
decision of a suit in his own favour: yet, as the fact happened so late
as the 6th of May, _after_ the Duke of Richmond had allowed to me that
the pursuit against Lord Mansfield was dropped, servility, to which,
as has been seen, he was enough prone, might have no share in this
instance. I have anticipated an event of the next year, that I might
present the reader with the whole transaction together.[131] I return
to the end of the year 1770.
The Duke of Manchester, on the 11th, renewed the interrupted motion of
an address to the Crown to station a strong and sufficient naval force
to guard Gibraltar, Minorca, and Jamaica. Lord Chatham supported the
motion, and said, he knew there was not a Spaniard but would pawn his
shirt to recover Gibraltar; and, therefore, he must yet suspect Spain;
though he did confess he believed France was in earnest desirous of
preserving peace: that though he knew the dismal condition of our navy,
half of which was rotten, yet he trusted we had still a force that was
a match for all the world; that force lay in the bravery of our land
and sea officers. But if there is a war, men, said he, of all parties
must be preferred. Lord Gower took this up very injudiciously, asking
if Sir Jeffery Amherst had not lately been appointed a Governor, though
not attached to the Court? Lord Shelburne replied, Sir Jeffery had
lost 4000_l._ a year, and after repeated neglects, had only obtained
a government: and the Duke of Richmond more shrewdly observed, that
Lord Gower’s own brother-in-law, Lord Dunmore, had just had _two_
governments given to him, New York, and then Virginia. The Duke of
Grafton attacked Lord Chatham roughly, who generally bore his severity,
perhaps from contempt, as tamely as Lord Mansfield Lord Chatham’s.
Lord Sandwich said, all the motion could do, would be to take merit or
demerit from the Administration. It was rejected by above 40 to 12.
As the Ministers affected to make military preparations, a resolution
passed to supply the voted augmentation of the army with Irish or
Germans.
It was with more alacrity that the Treasury carried a vote of a fourth
shilling in the pound on land, by a majority of 299 to 121. The Bedford
squadron, discontented with Lord North, who placed no confidence in
them, and leaning with Lord Weymouth and Wood to Lord Chatham, who they
feared would be Minister, had whispered objections to the increase of
the tax. The Duke of Bedford himself declared openly against it, and
Rigby, as if by his order, had some time before in the House of Commons
owned he should disapprove it, unless there actually should be a war.
He now treacherously advised Lord North to postpone the demand till
after Christmas; but the Minister doubting with reason the sincerity of
the faction, would not be turned aside from his purpose, but carried it
with spirit, Rigby absenting himself for a real or pretended fit of
the gout.
On the 13th Lord George Germaine moved for a conference with the Lords
on their late expulsion of the Commons. His motive, he said, was to
recommend unanimity between the two Houses; insinuating, in order
to create variance between them, that they had quarrelled. But the
motion was rejected by a large majority; but not till Colonel Barré
had drawn a severe picture of the Court-Lords, particularly of the
Earls of Marchmont and Denbigh, who had distinguished themselves with
most bitterness against the Commons. All had been going on quietly,
said Barré, when on a sudden a set of raggamuffins had interrupted
the debate, and first turned out the Lords, and then the Commons.
They were the most ill-favoured rogues he had ever seen; one with a
long meagre face and long nose, whom by his brogue he presently knew
for a Scotchman. Another, still worse, with such a villanous aspect,
squinting eyes, and features so compressed that his hooked nose could
scarce squeeze itself into its place, was so hideous, that he had been
persuaded it was not a human face, but a mask. The likenesses were too
strong to be misapplied--yet the two Lords took care not to acknowledge
their portraits.
The next day Lord George Sackville Germaine, and Lord George
Cavendish, moved that no messages should be sent to the other House but
by the eldest sons of peers, who alone would not be in danger of being
insulted there; and that such eldest sons should be restrained from
going thither on any other occasion. Colonel Onslow, alluding to the
two Lords, said, the motion ought to have been that no message should
be sent but by the younger sons of peers; and alluding to Lord George
Sackville, that the motion seemed to imply timidity. Governor Johnstone
went much further, and said, he did not conceive _that any man was
proper to take care of the honour of that House, who had forfeited his
own honour_. The motion was rejected by about 130 to 40.[132]
So gross an insult as Johnstone’s called for chastisement, and did
prove how much the world and he had mistaken Lord George Sackville.
The latter with temper that became the courage he showed, took four
days to settle his affairs and to make provision for an infant of which
his wife was just delivered; behaving at the same time with a cheerful
indifference that deceived her and his whole family. He then, taking
T. Townshend for his second, challenged Johnstone, and met him in Hyde
Park. The latter was accompanied by Sir James Lowther. Each fired two
pistols; Johnstone’s first struck off the butt-end of Lord George’s.
They fired again; both missed, and the affair ended, exceedingly to
the honour of Lord George’s coolness and intrepidity. The brutality
of Johnstone shocked everybody, especially as his character had as
much of the bully as the bravo in it; and as it was presumed he had
depended on Lord George’s supposed want of spirit, or trusted to the
publicity of the affront for any consequences being prevented, which
is always dishonourable in the aggressor. His boisterous reputation,
and a vague anonymous challenge given out in the newspapers to the
author of a _North Briton_ on the Scotch, had recommended him for this
service to his patron, Sir James Lowther, who, in resentment for Lord
George’s deserting him on the Cumberland election, had brooded over
it till now that he excited that ruffian’s assault. But so odious was
Sir James from the whole tenor of his life, that Johnstone seemed the
less hateful of the two, especially as Sir James appeared to glut his
eyes with revenge.[133] Such unaffected valour in Lord George revived
suspicions in some that it was not courage he had wanted at Minden;
but so much zeal for his country as should have balanced his hatred of
Prince Ferdinand.[134]
At this time, one Robert Morris, Secretary to the Bill of Rights,
published an outrageous letter to Sir Richard Aston, a judge of the
King’s Bench, who had cast reflections on him in a trial--I think for
stealing an heiress.[135] The man was a pretended enthusiast, and
offered himself to the Court for a martyr, and to the people for one of
their representatives. The Ministers refused him the first honour, and
the people the second.
Nor was opposition confined solely to England. The supple, but
national Scots, who complained so bitterly of English inveteracy,
took a step at this time which proved their rancour greater than
that of the southern Britons. It is not uncommon for Scots to be
chosen for English boroughs; yet Lord Weymouth having recommended his
cousin, the Earl of Dysart, a Scottish peer, for one of the sixteen,
on the death of the Duke of Argyle, the Scotch nobility, instigated
by the Earl of Haddington, mutinied against the King’s nomination of
Lord Dysart, because he had no estate in Scotland, and because Lord
Irwin, in the same predicament, was already one of the sixteen. The
Duke of Buccleugh, the new Duke of Argyle, and the Earl of March,
all zealous courtiers, joined in the revolt; for the Scotch were too
quick-sighted not to perceive that opposition was at least as good a
path to preferment as servility. They set up the Earl of Breadalbane,
and engaged never to vote for any peer who should not support him.
To stifle that spirit, Lord Weymouth gave up his cousin Dysart, and
the King recommended the Earl of Stair; yet the Opposition persisted,
and Lord Stair was chosen but by 28 votes against 19. The young Earl
of Buchan a few years before had attempted to make a similar stand,
but it being against a landed Scot, was not supported. To soften the
sacrifice to Lord Dysart, the King offered him a green riband; but he,
who was one of the proudest, and not one of the brightest of men, did
not distinguish between the King’s civility and the proscription of
himself by his Scottish brethren, and wrote to the Secretary of State
that he not only would not accept the riband, but would never serve
this King or any other. Next year he asked a military preferment for
his brother, and was refused.
The negotiation about the Falkland Islands still continued in suspense.
The King of Spain adhered to his declaration of reserving his claim
entire, though willing to relinquish the possession; and the public
were persuaded that there were different opinions in the Ministry from
threats thrown out by the Duke of Bedford that he would go to the
House of Lords, and proclaim the necessity of declaring war. Still was
the surprise of mankind extreme, when, on the 16th, it was known that
Lord Weymouth had resigned the Seals--a mysterious conduct, increased
by his own obstinate silence, and by the professions of the Bedfords,
that they had not been acquainted with his intention, nor should resign
with him. The King, afraid of a breach between the Ministers and him,
offered to make any arrangement that might accommodate him with any
other place; but he would take none. However,--to show that he did
not mean opposition, but would continue to support the Administration,
like the Duke of Grafton; and, not ashamed of being obliged to those
whom he disserved,--he asked for the lucrative place of postmaster for
his brother, which was instantly granted; the weak measures of the
Court having reduced them to be afraid of a man who had quitted them
only from fear. Such was the complexion of the King’s whole conduct. By
aiming at power which he did not dare to exert, he was forced to court
the most servile, and buy dear the most worthless, never conceiving
that the firmest authority is that founded on character, and on the
respect paid to virtue. He bought temporary slaves, who had the power
of manumitting themselves the moment they wished to be bought over
again. He lost his dominions in America, his authority over Ireland,
and all influence in Europe, by aiming at despotism in England; and
exposed himself to more mortifications and humiliations than can happen
to a quiet doge of Venice. Another feature in his character was, that
he could seem to forgive any injury or insult when the offender could
be of use to him; he never remembered any service when the performer
could be of none.
The secret motives of Lord Weymouth’s resignation were these:--at
the beginning of Spain’s hostilities, the King, who began to affect
a military turn, had been eager for war, and Lord Weymouth, whose
ambition aspired to the lead in the Administration, had gone eagerly
into the royal views. On that plan, and encouraged by Wood’s awe
of Lord Chatham, they had thrown every damp on the negotiation,
and involved themselves in repeated declarations of the war being
unavoidable. Lord North, of pacific mould, and the Scottish junto as
apprehensive as Wood that a war would bring back Lord Chatham, had
taken a contrary course, and had brought back the King from his martial
system. Lord Weymouth, who would not have hesitated to change his
language had he thought peace could be effected, chose rather to waive
his ambition than his security, and adhered to war. Nor was this all.
His extreme indolence and drunkenness made it impossible that he should
execute the duties of his office in time of war. He seldom went to bed
till five or six in the morning, nor rose next day till twelve or one.
His parts must have been great, for in that besotted state he was still
able to express himself in the House of Lords with elegance, quickness,
and some knowledge, in a few short sentences; not indeed deserving all
the applause bestowed on them by his faction. A few reflections on his
character and on the time may be useful; as it will seem extraordinary
hereafter that a man so improperly compounded for a minister, should
in a government, partly popular, have been the hinge on which so
important a crisis turned.
Whether it is owing to the variations of our climate, or to the
uncertainty and fluctuations of our Government; whether to the
independence that our freedom suggests; or whatever else be the
cause, it is certain that no other country produces so many singular
and discriminate characters as England. And as the nature of our
Government excludes no man from attaining a share in it; and as the
licence of opposition and of the press suffers the most severe scrutiny
even into the private life of all men in power, it is not surprising
that there should be a greater variety in the actors, and a larger
harvest of anecdotes relating to them than to the Ministers of other
nations. Here, too, the character of the man influences his conduct.
In monarchies, the temper and disposition of the prince gives the
tone to his subjects and servants. When ministers and factions awe
the sovereign, _their_ passions, not _his_, prescribe their conduct.
Never was this truth so elucidated as in the first years of George the
Third. Having no predominant passion of his own, but hypocrisy enough
to seem to approve whatever his Ministers for the time being willed,
almost every year of his reign wore a different stamp. It began with
popularity under Lord Bute, but veered as suddenly to Majesty at home.
Lord Chatham, had he had time, would have dictated to Europe. Fox and
Lord Holland established universal corruption and revenge. Grenville
exercised rigour and economy. With Lord Rockingham entered redress and
relaxation. Lord Chatham’s second Administration was an interregnum
of inexplicable confusion. The Duke of Grafton did as little, without
being out of his senses. The people almost seized the reins next, and
the Ministers, to save themselves, were content to secure the doors of
the Cabinet and of the House of Commons from being stormed, while both
the King and the Parliament were vilified and insulted. His Majesty
seemed almost as contented to let the populace brave him, as he had
been to let Lord Bute, Lord Holland, and Grenville trample on them.
Among men of such various complexion, Lord Weymouth was not the
least singular. He was tall, handsome, and, from a German education,
solemn and formal in his outward deportment. His look spoke absence,
and nothing in his ostensible appearance discovered a symptom of the
quickness, cunning, and dissoluteness within. A perfect insensibility
produced constant and facile good humour; yet his bent brow and
constitutional pride indicated no pleasantry or social mirth. His parts
were strong, his conception ready, his reasoning acute, his delivery
short and perspicuous. His parts must have been very strong to be
capable of emerging from his constant drunkenness and dissipation;
for though he had been well instructed, had a retentive memory, and
a head admirably turned to astronomy and mechanics, he abandoned all
improvement so entirely, that it was wonderful how he had gleaned so
much common knowledge of politics as embellished his short speeches,
and for a quarter of an hour in every debate infused into him aptness
and propriety. The becoming decency and dignity of his appearance was
all the homage he paid to public opinion. He neither had nor affected
any solid virtue. He was too proud to court the people, and too mean
not to choose to owe his preferments to the favour of the Court or
the cabals of faction. He wasted the whole night in drinking, and the
morning in sleep, even when Secretary of State. No kind of principle
entered into his plan or practice; nor shame for want of it. He
ruined his tradesmen without remorse, and, if that was an excuse,
without thought; and with equal indifference frequently saw bailiffs
in his house: for pride is a constitutional stoicism, independent
of circumstances. With as little sense of fashionable as of real
honour, he had often received letters with demands of gaming debts,
written in a style that even such gentlemen seldom endure without
resentment. Taciturnity, except with his bacchanalian companions,
was his favourite habit, because it harmonized with his prodigious
indolence; and ambition, though his only passion, could not surmount
his laziness,--though his vanity made him trust that his abilities,
by making him necessary, could reconcile intrigue and inactivity. His
timidity was womanish, and the only thing he did not fear was the ill
opinion of mankind.[136]
The impropriety of such a character probably convinced Wood that a
temporary retreat was necessary; and the confidence of the Bedford
squadron in their own strength disposed them to acquiesce in it; for I
cannot believe that, while their conduct harmonized with Weymouth’s,
they were ignorant of his intentions. Lord Weymouth, Lord Gower, the
Duke of Grafton, and Lord Sandwich, were more considerable in the
House of Lords than any Speakers that would remain in the Ministry;
so that if Lord North could carry through the peace, they might still
command terms; or if Lord Chatham was forced upon the King, he must
have been glad of their support. But Lord North had the sagacity to
secure Lord Sandwich (between whom and Weymouth was much jealousy), by
making him Secretary of State. The others escaped by having been less
precipitate; and Lord Weymouth and Wood remained the sole victims of
their own insidious artifices.
No man was more troubled at this sudden resignation than Monsieur
Francés, the French Resident. As I was very intimate with him, he
vented his lamentations to me in several visits. He said the Bedfords
were _des scélérats_; that they might have made peace three months
before; and that that very morning he himself had offered to Lord North
to set out directly for Paris, and would pawn his head if he did not
return with peace; that Lord North wanted courage, and was too jealous
of Spain--that the King of Spain would easily have made peace at first
if we would not have armed. I was far from agreeing that Lord North had
been to blame in being prepared. Wood, said Francés, had nearly blown
up a war with France the last year on the affair of the flag, having
insisted on giving an answer to their memorial, though Francés, who had
been forced to demand an answer in form, had begged Wood not to give
one.[137] He imputed much of the delays in the negotiation to Wood’s
stock-jobbing (in which, no doubt, no man was more capable of detecting
another than Francés, who was deep in that mystery himself), and said
he had sent to Lord Weymouth on the 14th to ask that he might make new
propositions; but the other had refused to see him.
Though I knew how ill-disposed Francés was to this country, and that
Monsieur du Châtelet was suspected of having incited the King to the
seizure of the Falkland Islands, and that the Duc de Choiseul but
waited for the means, and would then have found an opportunity of
attacking us; yet I was and am persuaded, that Francés at that moment
acted with sincerity. Nothing could be more opposite to Choiseul’s
interest than a war between France and England at that juncture, in
which he was vehemently pressed by the King of Spain to take a part. He
had proved in council, to the confusion and confession of his enemies,
that the finances of France could not possibly support a war; and his
own master’s aversion to war would expose him to still greater dangers,
as the mistress and her Cabal could not fail to avail themselves of the
Monarch’s disgust to a Minister already tottering, should the least
disadvantage attend their arms. The crisis, however, of Choiseul’s fate
advanced so rapidly, that I am persuaded, however strong Choiseul’s
instructions to Francés had been, he himself by this time had taken
another resolution. He had found that his disgrace was determined; he
had no support but the King of Spain, who pushed him to declare, and
with whose Prime Minister, Grimaldi,[138] he was intimately leagued.
Despair decided. Could he obtain his master’s consent to declare war,
he himself might be necessary; and he secured the protection of Spain.
He marched forty thousand men to the coast opposite to England, under
the command of his brother Stainville; and by that rash step brought
on his own fall. His enemies, gained by our Court, wrested from their
temporising King, who abhorred change, the sentence of Choiseul’s
banishment, and a deluge of blood was saved by his disgrace,--a
merit which our Court soon effaced by planning a war on our American
colonies, hoping to enslave them--and by treating them with as much
arrogance and obduracy as they betrayed pusillanimity towards Spain and
France, with whom, by such blundering policy, they drew on a war too;
till, by misplacing haughtiness, and by a series of wretched measures,
they lost at once our colonies in America, and the empire of the ocean
everywhere.
I return to Lord Weymouth’s resignation, who, Lord Chatham’s friends
asserted, had advised making reprisals on Spain: whether authorised or
prompted by Wood, and whether to drive the resigner into opposition,
I know not. Certain it is, that he had advised recalling Mr. Harris,
our Minister, from Madrid. Francés told me, that when Lord Weymouth
demanded restitution of the island, he had promised to negotiate on
the title; but when Spain consented to the first point, Lord Weymouth
affirmed, he had only said that _then_ we should be _en état de
négocier_. The Spanish Ambassador maintained that his Lordship had
three times made the same promise to him as to Francés.
For once such duplicity imposed on nobody; nor did expected popularity
follow. Could there be a greater farce than the Bedfords acting
jealousy of national honour, when they knew our inability, and had
concurred in sacrificing our glory and interest at the end of the most
flourishing war? It was only ridiculous that the Duke of Bedford cried
out for war, and opposed the land-tax that was to carry it on! With
equal consistence, that faction celebrated Lord Weymouth for retiring
_unplaced_ and _unpensioned_,--him, who ruined his tradesmen, paid
nobody, had sold a place that was _not_ vacant, during only six weeks
that he was Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, and of which the purchaser
could not recover a shilling; and who had now obtained the Postmaster’s
place for his brother!--but could any good come out of Nazareth?
On the 22nd the Parliament was adjourned for the holidays; and on the
28th, a courier brought advice of the Duc de Choiseul’s fall, of which
I am enabled to give some authentic anecdotes.
The Duke’s extreme indiscretion in keeping no measures with Madame du
Barry, the new mistress, has already been mentioned. His folly was
augmented by having had the fate of his predecessor, the Cardinal
de Bernis,[139] before his eyes. The Cardinal, from a starving,
sonnet-making Abbé, had been rewarded for his flatteries by Madame de
Pompadour with the red hat, and by being made Prime Minister; both
by her favour. He was no sooner at the height of his fortune, than
he not only slighted her, but as an excuse for not visiting her,
pleaded that his rank in the Church forbade his frequenting a woman
of her character,--as if the back stairs to the apartment of a kept
mistress were an honourable ascent for a priest, but her levée a
disgrace! His ingratitude and her revenge were complete in about six
weeks. The Duc de Choiseul, who certainly was not often troubled with
scruples, and who had risen by the countenance of Madame de Pompadour,
now influenced by two women[140] of characters as blemished as the
mistress’s, affected delicacy about Madame du Barry, who though a
common prostitute, at least had not the confidence to act scruples.
Yet, though she was the instrument by which his ruin was effected, the
crisis turned on an affair of a public nature.
The Duc d’Aiguillon, a man as ambitious as Choiseul, but of a nature
as dark as the other was frank and too boldly unreserved, had long
been an enemy of the Prime Minister. The Parliaments of France, partly
from contempt of the King’s weakness, partly from the intrigues of
Choiseul, who had played them and the clergy against each other; and
yet more from that free spirit of thinking which they had contracted
from applying to English literature and politics, and which Voltaire,
Montesquieu, and their modern philosophers, had brought into vogue;
the Parliaments, I say, had long given much trouble to the Crown,
and none more than that of Bretagne, who, by the marriage of their
Duchess Anne with the Kings Charles the Eighth and Louis the Twelfth,
had obtained the strongest confirmations of their privileges. Over
that province, Choiseul had set his competitor, D’Aiguillon, with a
view, it was believed, of destroying him by the difficulty of managing
that Parliament. D’Aiguillon’s arbitrary nature, and his observation
of the aversion in which Choiseul was held by the Jesuits, whom he
had crushed, naturally threw him into the arms of that society; but
as the Parliament of Bretagne had led the way to their destruction,
the presidents and councillors of that assembly could not brook the
countenance shown by their governor to that odious society. At the
head of the patriots was the Advocate-General, La Chalotais; a man of
invincible spirit and intrepidity--of wonderful parts--of integrity
perhaps more wonderful--of some vanity--and of no small indiscretion.
Opposition soon commenced, and soon grew inveterate between two
characters so dissimilar. The imprudences of La Chalotais were
immediately transmitted to Court; and as his nature was unwary, his
enemies thought that whatever wore that impress would appear natural;
and accordingly there were no follies so outrageous and improbable
with which they did not charge him. His business passed through the
hands of the Comte de St. Florentin, afterwards Duc de la Vrillière,
an ancient drudge of office hackneyed in prosecutions and punishments,
and steeled to insensibility by a long series of personal prosperity,
and by being as long conversant with the sufferings of others.[141] To
passive insensibility he had learnt and added the tricks of treachery;
and being now connected with D’Aiguillon, he easily circumvented the
provincial credulity of La Chalotais, and drew all his secrets from him
by a creature of his own, who acted the friend of the Advocate-General,
and went so far as to leave (by a pretended mistake) an important
letter he had received from La Chalotais in St. Florentin’s own room.
The public did justice on the lower of these tools, one Calonne, by
hissing him in the theatre. The King was so weak as to justify the
wretch publicly--which did but serve to make his infamy more known; but
on La Chalotais the storm burst. He was dragged from prison to prison
with his son, and at last shut up with him, but in separate dungeons,
in the Château du Taureau, a fort in the sea, to which there was
access only at low water. It was in a most rigorous winter, and the
son’s legs were on the point of mortifying. A daughter of La Chalotais
was hurried to a convent, where she perished by continual alarms of
her father’s and brother’s deaths or approaching executions. After
repeated tyrannies and trials in various places, many other Parliaments
took up the cause of the prisoners; the noble defences made by the
father, his undaunted braving of both his persecutors, D’Aiguillon
and La Vrillière, and above all his and his son’s innocence, were so
incontestable, that Choiseul, struck with their virtues, or willing to
mortify D’Aiguillon, persuaded the King to stop all proceedings. The
victims escaped, though not acquitted; and were banished, though not
condemned.[142]
Their having escaped from the talons of power and injustice was
triumph sufficient to give new spirit to their partisans. Grievous
accusations were heaped on the tyrant Governor, and much indirect
matter was thrown in. Plots of the Jesuits, and some foolish meetings
of them and their devotees, were connected with the cause. A madman
was drawn in to charge the Duc d’Aiguillon with having tampered with
him to poison La Chalotais; and it was confidently affirmed, even by
Choiseul’s intimate friends, that a scaffold had been erected, and had
not the Prime Minister had the suspicious precaution of dispatching a
third messenger with a reprieve by a private road, La Chalotais had
been executed, as the Governor had interrupted and stopped two former
messengers sent by Choiseul for the same purpose. Of those intrigues
D’Aiguillon fully purged himself in print; and of the last, Choiseul
himself declared him entirely innocent. As he could not, however, clear
himself of bitter tyranny, the public bated him little of the whole
charge; so that, finding himself stand so ill in the eyes of a country
which he aspired to govern, he took the resolution of demanding a
public trial, and Choiseul took care it should not be refused, which
the other did not expect,--artifices that by turns fell on both the
artificers. The Parliament’s inquisition growing unfavourable to the
great criminal D’Aiguillon, he flew for protection to the mistress.
She and their Cabal persuaded the King to evoke the cause before
himself at Versailles,--a strange and unusual force put on their free
deliberations! They protested against the violence. The King silenced
all their proceedings and all their remonstrances; a wound as fatal to
D’Aiguillon’s honour as to their privileges. The Parliament threw up
its functions.
At that period, Maupeou, the Chancellor, told the King, that
if he would dismiss the Duc de Choiseul, the Parliament would
submit, as it was the Minister himself who secretly fomented their
disobedience,--nor was the charge improbable. But as fools have more
sympathy for fools, especially if the acting fool has more cunning than
the passive one, it was the Prince of Condé[143] who persuaded the King
to determine on removing his Minister. Treachery drew the dagger, but
interest had whetted it. The Prince was intimate with Choiseul, but
wished to succeed him as Colonel-General of the Swiss,--a view of which
a second treachery disappointed him. He was the lover of the Princess
of Monaco, who was at law with her husband, and sued for a separation.
By the Parliament’s suspension of their functions, her cause could
not be heard. The Prince of Condé told the King the Parliament would
submit; he told the Parliament the King would relax. They resumed their
functions, sat for a day before the double imposture was discovered,
gave sentence for the Princess of Monaco; and then the Prince of Condé,
detected and disavowed by both sides, was banished to Chantilly; and
at last entered into the Cabal of the other Princes of the Blood, and
peers, who protested against the violence put on the Parliament.
The Duc de Choiseul received many private warnings of his approaching
fate; but did not, or affected not to apprehend it. On the contrary,
he gave out that he alone could make the peace, to which Spain would
consent solely from esteem and consideration of him. He added, that
the peace made, he meant to retire. In the midst of this delirium,
or rather vaunt, the Duc de la Vrillière, with tears as insincere as
Choiseul’s tranquillity, waited on him on the morning of the 24th of
December with a written order from the King, commanding him to give up
his post of Secretary of State and Postmaster-General, and enjoining
him to retire to his seat at Chanteloup in Touraine, till he should
hear farther. The Duc de Choiseul demanded if he might not delay till
the following Wednesday, that his house might be aired. As La Vrillière
hesitated, and seemed unwilling to bear that message, the Duke wrote
to the King himself, and obliged the Minister to carry his letter. At
night a repeated order came to depart the very next morning. “Ah!”
cried Choiseul, “this is the drop that makes the glass run over!” He
set out the next day with his wife and her physician. The Duchesse
de Grammont followed them on the Wednesday. At Longjumeau, a little
way from Paris, several men of quality attached to him met him as he
passed, and the Duke, who had behaved with great resolution, melted
into tears. The Duchess,[144] all her life a heroine and philosopher,
maintained her dignity. She had often wished an end of her husband’s
Administration, and once at dinner professed her desire of living
retired with him; the Duchesse de Grammont said brutally, “Reste à
savoir s’il le voudroit aussi lui.” The company of that rival sister
was sufficient to embitter all the happiness of living for ever with
her beloved husband.[145] The Duc de Praslin was banished to his
country-house. Obscure officers were placed in their departments;
but months passed before the principal conspirators assumed any
authoritative posts. Paris swarmed with libels and execrations on them,
the mistress, and the King; and Choiseul became adored, because his
enemies were detestable or contemptible.[146]