Mr. Pitt’s Enemies.--Debates in Parliament on the German war, and on
our Affairs with Spain.--Speeches of the leading Members.--Mr.
Pitt’s Defence of himself.--Colonel Barré’s insulting conduct to
Mr. Pitt.--Libellous Pamphlets against that Statesman, by the Rev.
Philip Francis.--Justification of Mr. Pitt’s Measures.--Family
compact between France and Spain.--Portugal invaded by Charles the
Third of Spain.--The Queen’s desire that her Brother should come
to England.--Pratt compelled to be Chief Justice of the Common
Pleas.--Lord Hardwicke and his Son.
Mr. Pitt’s enemies did not content themselves with traducing him in
pamphlets and satires. A deeper blow was meditated, which, though not
carried to the extent which the projectors hoped, could not but wound
his mind, and did to a degree lower him in the opinion of some men,
though the brutality with which it was conceived and executed, raised
almost general indignation. I will just touch the surprize it wrought
on me, which may convey some idea of what effect it must have had on
others.
The report on the foreign troops was made the day after they had been
removed. Mr. Bunbury,[139] who married Lady Sarah Lenox, had spoken,
for the first time in Parliament, against the German war. Lord George
Sackville, with more caution, but no less hostile intention to Pitt,
had declared for the measure, as no alternative was proposed, though
he hoped ministers would concert with our allies how to draw us out of
this scrape. He did not believe that France was in a worse situation
than she had been at Gertruydenburg,[140] when she rejected insolent
terms. She could, besides, subsist her troops on easier terms than we
could. She brought to account the contributions raised by her armies;
he did not know that we did. Lord George was finishing his speech as I
came into the House. My ear was struck with sounds I had little been
accustomed to of late, virulent abuse on the last reign, and from a
voice unknown to me. I turned, and saw a face equally new; a black,
robust man, of a military figure, rather hard-favoured than not young,
with a peculiar distortion on one side of his face, which it seems
was owing to a bullet lodged loosely in his cheek, and which gave a
savage glare to one eye. What I less expected from his appearance, was
very classic and eloquent diction, and as determined boldness as if
accustomed to harangue in that place. He told the House that in the
late King’s reign we had been governed solely by Hanoverian measures
and councils; and though called to order (in truth unparliamentarily),
he proceeded with the same vociferous spirit to censure all ministers
but Lord Bute; and for Mr. Pitt, who was not present, he received
the appellation of a profligate minister, who had thrust himself
into power on the shoulders of the mob. The present King, said this
new Court-tribune, was so English, that he did not believe he had
looked into the map for Hanover;[141] and he commiserated the present
ministers, who were labouring through the dregs of German councils.
The reader must imagine the astonishment occasioned by this martial
censor. He was a Colonel Barré, of French extraction, born at Dublin,
and had served for some years in the war in America with reputation,
prosecuting his studies with assiduity in the intervals of duty. With
General Wolfe he had been intimately connected, both as an officer
and penman; but had thought himself ill-used by Mr. Pitt, though the
friends of the latter, and Lord Barrington, lately Secretary at War,
bore witness that Mr. Pitt had made it a point to serve him. In his
younger years he had acted plays with so much applause, that, it was
said, Garrick had offered him a thousand pounds a year to come upon the
stage.[142]
This man, therefore, had been selected by Lord Fitzmaurice (become Earl
of Shelburne by the death of his father) as a bravo to run down Mr.
Pitt. Lord Shelburne held a little knot of young orators at his house;
but Barré soon overtopped them; and Fox had pushed on the project of
employing him to insult Pitt--to what extent was surmised by all the
world. The consequences will appear in the next debate.
Glover,[143] the author of “Leonidas,” uttered a speech in most heroic
fustian, but not without good argument, to show that all our great
advantages had been obtained before we went deeply into the German war.
Charles Yorke, Attorney-General, defended the measures of the late King
against Barré and his own friend Mauduit’s pamphlet, urging that his
Majesty had reduced himself to poverty to support the war in Germany.
Elliot made an admirable oration to reconcile himself to consistence:
owned he had opposed the treaties in 1755; and was then told they were
calculated to prevent a war in Germany. He had since been dazzled
with the national enthusiasm on the King of Prussia’s victories, and
confessed that on the like appearances he should again be led to
approve the German war. It was true that war had its object, collateral
division; but would the House wish to Germanize this young King, and
make him turn his thoughts thither more than he did? He concluded with
a pathetic ejaculatory wish that the peace had succeeded.
Oswald[144] took the same turn of endeavouring to palliate his
inconsistencies; but though his parts were still shrewder and quicker
than Elliot’s, he did it much worse. Dr. Hay[145] attempted, too, an
apology for himself, but with the worst success of the three; and the
necessity which the principal men in Parliament found themselves under
of justifying their abandoned corruption and versatility, stamped
disgrace on this Parliament itself, which it did but increase by fresh
and repeated instances of servility in ensuing sessions on every change
of Administration.
The next day, Dec. 11th, Mr. Cooke[146] moved for all memorials
relating to our fisheries, &c., which he introduced by saying, he
wished to know what was the state of our affairs with regard to
Spain--he hoped peaceable; but desired to see the papers relating to
their claims, and to know if they had treated us with contempt and
disdain. Beckford seconded him, urging that the Gazette and Bussy’s
memorial contradicted one another. The King had asked advice of
Parliament: if ministers should refuse these papers, they refused to
comply with the King’s request. He did not know who were the ministers,
nor whether we had a single minister, or a minister depute. It was
necessary to have _one_ minister.
Grenville replied, that though he had heard of this motion, he could
not believe it would be made. It was our right to have papers, when
essentially necessary; but power of negotiation belonged to the Crown;
and negotiations ought not to be made public, when real mischief might
be the consequence. Had his Majesty asked advice as to Spain? would
you ground advice on those papers? or were they wanted to answer
newspapers? Should a minister or minister depute make that answer? He
had heard with surprise that _one_ man ought to direct. What had been
the constant charge against Sir Robert Walpole, but his acting as sole
minister? Yet his modesty had declined the appellation. Prime Minister
was an odious title: he was sorry it was now thought an essential part
of the constitution. He did believe the Gazette had contained, word
for word, the sense of the dispatch. The assurances of a peaceable
disposition had been given, but who could answer that they were to be
depended upon? It would be breach of trust to communicate the papers
demanded without particular leave; nor, should they be communicated,
would they be sufficient ground for advice. Would the House, if they
contained offensive words, lay them before the public to inflame the
people? The subject was not fit at that hour for the intervention of
Parliament. If ministers are called upon, and tell our distresses, they
are repeated abroad: if silent, are supposed to allow them. There was
no reason to suspect the King of exercising his power improperly.
Lord Strange said, he had not believed that any men would be so hardy
as to bring on this affair, and thought they could not word it so
as to obtain his assent: but the motion was now so unexceptionable,
that he could not object to it. No letters of a private nature were
demanded. The House had a right to tender its advice, even unasked.
Who doubted but Spain had communicated all those papers to France?
Yet ministers would not produce them to Parliament. They were divided
amongst themselves; therefore the people ought to interpose. By showing
no confidence to the people, the administration would destroy their
zealous attachment to the Crown.
Wilkes maintained that Spain ought to be considered as hostile. Sir
Francis Dashwood said he would agree to the motion, if he saw either
utility or meaning in it, but such as he would not express. Parliament,
he owned, had a right to all papers, yet Parliament had a right too
to consider if there were any use in asking for them. He saw a proper
answer had been made to the memorial, and the Spanish minister had been
desired to recant--(Mr. Pitt cried out, “Where?”) Spain said to France,
you are making peace, try if you cannot obtain something for me. He had
heard, he said, of no faction in the administration: he hoped there was
none any where else. Why should not confidence be placed in the King
and administration, till it was abused? There might be something in the
papers which Spain would not like the City of London should know--yet
he supposed there was not more than appeared. Was it wished to
address the Crown to declare war? But that was the prerogative of the
Crown. Spain, too, would probably think twice before she embarked in
hostilities. There might be different opinions in the council of Spain.
That secret we were bound in honour to keep.
Lord Frederick Campbell[147] said, he did not believe there were any
factions in the ministry; if there were, the King would put an end to
them: but if the administration were distracted, this measure would
distract them much more. He had great hopes that these ill appearances
would end in peace. Nugent[148] lamented there being any divisions,
as unanimity was never more necessary. Bamber Gascoyne said, if any
of the papers were of too secret a nature, a secret committee might
be appointed to examine them. _By destroying parties, we had created
factions._[149] He himself had never been in a minister’s house, nor
ever intended it.[150] The conduct of this _patriot_ will appear
hereafter.
Sir John Glynn said, that that time twenty years had been famous for
calling for papers; with intention then to condemn a minister; now it
was with a view to applauding one. A paper had been produced at that
time which the King of Prussia never forgave. Himself had never seen
any benefit arise from motions of that sort. Rigby said, he should
be sorry if that motion were likely to be complied with; but that
did not seem very probable. But what? had the City instructed its
representatives to demand a First Minister? He had heard the Excise
adopted by a sort of First Minister. He would tell the House who were
the Administration; the two Secretaries of State, the Chancellor,
the President, &c., and in their deliberations there had been twelve
against two; proof enough of union. The other House had a right to
judge as well as the Commons; and was the natural barrier between the
Crown and people. Whoever sought the Administration, might find them
in the Duke of Cumberland’s late lodgings at St. James’s (where the
councils were held). At a time when not a man whispered to his friend,
but in commendation of the King, would the House wish to set a First
Minister over him?
Mr. Pitt expressed much concern at the flame that had arisen, and that
the House, by losing its temper, had lost its reason, and degenerated
into barbarism. His friend Beckford, he feared had thought more of him
than he had done of himself; but the word _guide_, commented as it
had been, had misled him. If the present question tended to make one
individual minister, he should be against it; but when he looked at
the complexion of the House, he had no such apprehension. Censured as
he had been for using an expression so much condemned, he could not
find reason to retract it. Lord Egremont, he believed, would not hold
the Seals an hour, if not permitted to guide his own correspondence.
Thus, he himself, who he hoped had not lessened his country, had
insisted on the same right. In the Treasury, in the Military, in the
Navy, he had never assumed or claimed any direction: had never spoken
to the King on those heads, but had always applied to the ministers
of those several departments; had transmitted everything through the
channels of each office. He hoped, he said, to have these egotisms
pardoned; he would now come to the question in agitation with a temper
that nothing could ruffle. Even the virtues of the King, on which the
House had been so much advised to rely, must be a little the fruit of
time; hoped his Majesty would be aided by wholesome and deep-sighted
advice. From the present motion what mischief could arise? he wished
some necessity had made him absent--but would it be decorous in him to
be shy? in a House where, he believed, he did not stand too well? He
believed the _bottom of the bottom_ of this affair would be dangerous;
not so, while confined to memorials. Spain had made three demands in
a most extensive manner; the right of fishery, which he had said he
would as soon give up the Tower of London, as grant; nor would the
King, he was sure, accord it; himself had never been ordered to hold
any other language. But why, might it be said, call for these papers?
because, if you temporized, or let Spain think you temporized, she
would more assuredly push her claims. Suspense might be wholesome, if
they were prepared, and you were not. The contrary being true, contrary
measures should be pursued. Himself would not press the motion, if told
by authority that it was premature; but then let the ministers say
so, and mark the era, without moulting a feather of England’s crest.
The note in the memorial, said to be delivered, was no departure from
their demands. Did they even say they would not impede the peace on
the consideration of these demands? Let ministers declare this, and he
would second to withdraw the motion--but he saw, he said, he should
not be told so. Or had France given up her insulting menace, that
she would stand by the demands of Spain? This was the Gordian knot,
that he himself had not been able to cut; had feared it would rise
in judgment against him; hoped it would not against any other man.
Divisions had always existed; when were twelve men cast in the same
mould? Divisions were sometimes salutary. Queen Elizabeth had promoted
them in her Councils. When he left administration, had never seen such
unanimity; he had said in high place, that his consolation was, to
leave such men in power; and had declared that he would only oppose
what he would have opposed with the Seals in his hand--but to have
stayed and have done that, would only have been prejudicial. It was the
extent of Spain’s claims that had shocked him, not her lofty idioms,
the most insignificant of all things. Whoever should cede to them but a
cockboat, ceded all. But the very present debate would strengthen the
King’s hands. He then made an encomium on the diligence, activity,
and punctuality of the Earl of Bristol. Should the fisheries not be
settled, the man who should give them up would one day or other be
impeached. For himself he wished he had not been so much in the right;
_wished he had not known so much as he did_. What he did know was
buried in the centre of the earth. France had told us with good faith,
that if we did not make up with Spain, they would break off the Treaty
with us. If Spain declared war, he should think her _felo de se_. It
would not be equal imprudence in her to abet France. Could the House
proportion its supplies without knowing in what predicament Spain stood
with France? Should the former declare war, she could lend money to
the latter. The revenues of Spain were under five millions, and she
employed seventy thousand men to collect them, besides twenty thousand
that were engaged in the affair of tobacco. Was this a formidable
enemy? To him it was indifferent to derive justification from this
situation of things; should he prove to have been in the wrong, he
should comfort himself with having thought he was right. All foreign
Courts, especially Spain, would think the present motion wise. Were
he not limited, or self-limited, he could enforce his arguments with
more strength. The Gazette had been printed to persuade eight millions
of people that Spain was amicable; but if there were indisputable
proofs to the contrary, it was deceiving all the world. It was of no
consequence to establish on which side lay truth; Bussy’s memorial had
proved the connection between the two houses of Bourbon. Should the
event end in a rupture, we had lost our opportunity--if affairs were in
accommodation, would the honour of England be preserved? Would Spain
be obliged to England who bowed, or to France, who should extort from
us, in the height of our conquests, advantages for Spain?
Colonel Barré, whether (as he gave out afterwards) to show that he had
not taken advantage of Mr. Pitt’s absence to abuse him the day before,
or whether (as is more probable) to pursue the point to which he had
been instigated, rose, and renewed the attack with redoubled acrimony.
Insult of language, terms, manner, were addressed, and personally
addressed, to Mr. Pitt, by that bravo. His variations, inconsistencies,
arts, popularity, ambition, were all pressed upon Pitt with energy and
bitterness, and the whole apostrophe wore the air of an affront more
than of a philippic. He told the House he could not amuse, but he would
not deceive them. That the disagreeable posture of our affairs with
Spain was solely owing to the late resignation, which had thrown our
councils and the nation itself into distraction. That Mr. Pitt, though
professing it, had no confidence in the King himself. Here Pitt, who
had remained in astonishment at so bold and novel an attack from a new
speaker, called him to order, declaring that no word guilty of so foul
a crime as want of confidence in the King had fallen from him, and sat
down, leaving Barré to proceed in his invective; but the latter was
interrupted by Fox, who said the King’s name was never to be mentioned
in a debate; that the House had listened with pleasure while justice
was done to his Majesty’s virtues; that Colonel Barré had a right to
show to what he thought Mr. Pitt’s arguments had tended; and that he
chose to give the former this hint, because he seemed so able and
willing to make use of his right. Charles Yorke said the King’s name
could not be used to influence debate. Pitt said he had referred to the
King’s speech, because it asked advice of the House. Fox, still fearing
lest the interruption and ignorance of the forms of the House should
disconcert Barré, replied, that the speech might be quoted, because
it is always understood as the speech of the minister. Barré went on,
saying, that if any man opposed, and not from the truest reasons, he
would wish him to be silent. Should there be a man whose whole life
had been a contradiction and a series of popular arts, he would judge
him from his actions, not from his words. Beckford called to have
the question read, to prevent such deviation into personality. Rigby
insisted that Beckford always deviated more than Barré had done. Barré
added, that he had less reason to deviate than Beckford, not allowing
himself to be so distracted; and that his front was not broad enough
to write contradiction on; nor would he desert the King’s service when
most wanted.
Pitt made no manner of reply; only turning to Beckford, and asking
pretty loud, “how far the scalping Indians cast their tomahawks?” It
seemed to some a want of spirit, but it was evident by the indignation
of the House, that such savage war was detested: and Pitt perhaps
did not care to put them in mind how far himself had often pushed
invective; nor chose to risk their preferring the new master of abuse
to the old. It had not been unwise, it should seem, to have uttered a
few words, stating to Barré the indecence of treating an infirm and
much older man with such licence, showing him that insult could not be
resented when offered in a public assembly, who always interpose, and
putting both him and the audience in mind, that a man, who had gained
the hearts of his countrymen by his services, could only forfeit them
by his own conduct, and not by the railing of a private individual.
With the public this outrage did Mr. Pitt no injury. Barré was abhorred
as a barbarian irregular, and Fox, who had lent such kind assistance
to a ruffian, drew the chief odium on himself. Charles Townshend,
being asked soon after, when the House would rise for the holidays,
replied,[151] “I do not know; but when it does, the roads will be as
dangerous as if the army were disbanded.” And Barré having said that
he would not answer for his head, but would for his heart, “Yes,” said
George Selwyn,[152] “if he could not, the former would have been broken
long ago.”
The debate was terminated by Lord George Sackville and Elliot;
the latter pleading against producing papers in the height of a
negotiation; and adding, “perhaps an express is now on the road from
Spain determined for war.” The motion was rejected without a division,
scarcely six voices being given for the question. Not one Tory spoke in
the debate but Sir John Glynn, and he declared against Pitt. The next
time Barré went to Court, the King took most gracious notice of him.
The City of Dublin addressed Mr. Pitt on his resignation. The same was
proposed at Lynn, and rejected; and at Leicester such a motion was
stopped by a person producing and reading a libel called _Mr. Pitt’s
Letter versified_. It was done by Francis,[153] a clergyman attached
to Lord Holland, who supplied the notes. Another, by the same hand,
called _A Letter from the anonymous Author of the Letters versified_,
was published, reviling Mr. Pitt on bearing Barré’s ill-usage. Lord
Melcomb, at Lord Bute’s table, constantly held the same language.
These specks were soon effaced in the confusion that fell on the
ministers themselves, and by the justification, which, in spite of
them, burst forth of Mr. Pitt’s measures. The war which they had
so poorly attempted to ward off, broke upon them, when they had no
longer his assistance. A courier arrived on the 24th from Spain, with
a refusal of showing us their treaty with France. This treaty was
the famous _Family Compact_, to which even the House of Austria had
acceded, of which Mr. Pitt, by a masterpiece of intelligence, had
got notice,[154] and of which our dastardly ministers had hoped to
deprecate the effects by pusillanimous palliatives and submission:
a compact formed because we were become so formidable, and the very
signature of which had terrified Lord Bute and his associates into
departing at once from our superiority. This was the secret at which
Mr. Pitt had so often hinted, and which he had now the satisfaction
of hearing published by the mouths of his enemies. We had avoided
the interception of the Spanish fleet, as Mr. Pitt had earnestly
recommended. It was now arrived, and they temporized no longer. Fuentes
was recalled, and Lord Bristol was consequently forced to return.
Previous to his departure Fuentes delivered a memorial to the foreign
ministers, in which Mr. Pitt was arraigned by name; an honour almost
unheard of. Alberoni had been accused by George the First; but though
that precedent was not flattering, Mr. Pitt could want no vindication,
when the Court of Spain, and Barré, the tool of Lord Bute, conspired to
charge him with being author of the war.
_We_ had been the _willing_ dupes of the Spanish House of Bourbon. It
was a more horrid insult on all good faith--on humanity--on ties of
blood, that Spain summoned Portugal to declare against us. The ruins of
Lisbon were almost smoking yet! The Queen of Portugal was the Spanish
Monarch’s sister; her husband and children were dwelling in tents at a
distance from their late capital. Assassination and conspiracies had
beset the Throne. This was the moment that Charles the Third selected
to invade their kingdom! France, it was said, in vain dissuaded this
perfidy--not from delicacy; but the meditated conquest of Portugal
was likely to engross the whole attention of the Court of Madrid. If
we should support Portugal, it might be a division of our forces; but
France needed all the assistance Spain could lend. Timber was wholly
exhausted in France. She had sent even to Dalmatia, and to little
purpose. The expense of ship-building is far greater in France than in
England. Her cities and trading companies set themselves to building
ships and presenting them to the King, but this was a distant and slow
resource.
The Queen, who bore great affection to her brothers, was desirous that
the second, Prince Charles of Mecklenburgh, should come over. The King
would not venture to propose it to Lord Bute, but wrote to him, and
after a reluctance of a fortnight on the part of the Favourite, the
boon was granted.
The ministers were solicitous to remove Pratt[155] from the House of
Commons, and offered him the dignity of Chief Justice of the Common
Pleas. He demurred; but was forced to accept it, for they would not
only have removed him from being Attorney-General, a post that required
a more pliant officer, and which he was willing to give up; but they
had the injustice to refuse him his gown as King’s counsel, and he
must have pleaded below the bar, or have quitted his profession. Mr.
Yorke was made Attorney, and Norton, Solicitor Generals. This enforced
destination of Pratt to be Chief Justice, preserved the Constitution
afterwards from the same men, whose policy exerted such rigour against
him. Mr. Yorke had lost the precedence over Pratt when the latter was
made Attorney-General. It was on the coalition of Mr. Pitt, after the
affair of Minorca, with the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Hardwicke. Pitt
then offered to restore Lord Anson to the lead at the Admiralty, or to
make Yorke Attorney, but would not grant both. Lord Hardwicke preferred
his son-in-law to his son; a partiality which the latter, whose eye was
fixed on the Great Seal, and which, by these means, Pratt afterwards
obtained to his prejudice, never forgave to his father.