Preliminaries of Peace with France and Spain.--Secret springs of
Political actions.--Embassy to the Court of Spain offered to
Lord Sandwich.--Insult to the Duke of Cumberland.--Honours and
Preferments.--Resignation of Lords Ashburnham and Kinnoul.--Lord
Lincoln’s ingratitude to the Duke of Newcastle.--Bait offered to
Lord Granby.--Mr. Conway.--The Duke of York obliged to go to
Italy.--Profusion exercised by the Court.--Charles Townshend’s
want of judgment.--His bons mots.--Attempt to propitiate
Walpole.--Correspondence between him and Fox respecting the
Rangership of the Parks offered to Lord Orford.--Conduct of the
latter.
On the 8th of the month a courier arrived with the preliminaries
signed by France and Spain. I shall not detail those preliminaries,
too well known, and to be found in all common histories. It is my
part to explain, as far as I could know them, the leading motives
of actions and events; and, though the secret springs are often
unfathomable, I had acquaintance enough with the actors to judge with
better probability than the common of mankind; and where these memoirs
are defective or mistaken, still they may direct to the inquiry after
sounder materials, and prove a key to original papers that may appear
hereafter.
The peace with Spain, as it opened a door for an embassy to that Court,
afforded Mr. Fox a new opportunity of revenge; and as this measure at
least he could not waive the honour of having suggested, so did it
corroborate the belief of his being the author of the other too.[253]
He immediately offered that embassy to Lord Sandwich,[254] who as
greedily accepted it. Sandwich, rejected and exploded by all mankind,
had been adopted, fostered, patronized in the most kind and intimate
manner by the Duke of Cumberland; nor had he the confidence now to
consult his Royal Highness, or to venture in person to notify to him
his desertion. He wrote. The insult was too glaring, and could not be
pardoned to either Fox or Sandwich, both of whom were for ever excluded
from the Duke’s presence but at his public levées, and there underwent
the most mortifying neglect from him; though Fox often sued in most
abject manner to be forgiven.
Severity gratified, honours and preferments were amply proffered,
and but few rejected. The Duke of Manchester[255] had been named to
the Bedchamber the instant Lord Rockingham had quitted it. The Duke
of Marlborough[256] and the Earl of Northumberland[257] were made
Lords Chamberlains to the King and Queen; the latter of which posts
Lord Bristol had refused to accept, from attachment to Mr. Pitt. Lord
Egmont was made Postmaster in the room of Lord Besborough. The seals
of Secretary of State, with the _feuille de bénéfices_, were once
more offered to the Duke of Newcastle; but he replied, it would be
time enough to talk of business when the Parliament met. His friend,
Lord Ashburnham,[258] resigned: and so did his other friend, Lord
Kinnoul,[259] who, though his bosom-confident, dwelling in his very
house, had borne his disgrace, and now affected to forget him, and to
plead obligations to the Duke of Devonshire, at the same time declaring
his reluctance to break with the Court; a reluctance so decisive, that
he retired into Scotland, and came no more to London till the year 1770.
Lord Lincoln,[260] Newcastle’s favourite nephew and heir, displayed
more open ingratitude. He asked an audience of the King, called his
uncle a factious old fool, and said he could not forget a message which
himself had brought from his uncle to his Majesty in the year 1757, in
which the Duke had signified to his then Royal Highness, that, if he
would not disturb the tranquillity of the rest of his grandfather’s
reign, the Duke, in or out of place, though he hoped the latter, would
support his measures to the utmost. It was justice, to recollect this
promise; but Lincoln’s subsequent conduct, at the same time that it was
inconsistent, was honourable neither towards the King nor his uncle. He
had a second audience, in which he told the King that the Duke insisted
on his resigning; “but if I must,” said he, “I will show but the more
warmly the next day that I remember the message, of which I have kept
a copy in writing.” The third time, when he went to resign, he said
he must oppose. The King told him his tone was much changed since his
first audience. But the Court never had much reason to complain of Lord
Lincoln’s hostilities. His exceeding pride kept him secluded from the
world, and rarely did he appear either at Court or in Parliament. For
some time he fluctuated between Lord Bute and Mr. Pitt, to the latter
of whom he at last attached himself; but with constant derision of,
and insult to, his uncle, and, whatever were the Duke of Newcastle’s
faults, cruel and unmerited. The truth was, Lord Lincoln’s avarice was
as unbounded as his haughtiness. Though possessed of two places for
life, and one of them the most lucrative in England, the auditorship of
the Exchequer, which never produces less than eight thousand pounds
a year, and during the war had brought in at least twenty, he had
resented the Duke’s not bestowing on him two more places for the lives
of his younger sons.
As every door was to be opened or barricaded that could admit or
exclude friends or enemies to the preliminaries, messengers were
stationed at the sea-ports to waylay Lord Granby on his return from
the army, with the most advantageous offers, as the Ordnance and
command of the army, setting aside the worthy old Marshal Ligonier[261]
with a large pension; a bait gulped by the former without scruple.
Mr. Conway, to whom they did the honour of thinking they could not
bribe him, (and whoever they could not bribe, they concluded, could
not approve their treaty,) was decorated with the empty honour of
conducting home the army; which would and did prevent his return before
the discussion of the preliminaries in Parliament. And the Duke of
York, whom they would not silence by favours, they obliged to go on an
idle expedition to Italy.
The profusion exercised on this occasion, and which reduced the
Court to stop even the payments of the King’s bedchamber, made men
recall severely to mind the King’s declaration on the choice of the
Parliament, that he would not permit any money to be spent on elections.
Their greatest difficulty was with Charles Townshend, who slipped
through their fingers at every turn, and could be held down to no
decision. He refused to be First Lord of Trade with the same power
over the colonies as had been granted to Lord Halifax. At the same
time he was loth to resign, though in that quarter the needle rested
at last,--a mark of that want of judgment that was conspicuous in all
his actions; for, having fluctuated from uncertainty of the issue, he
chose the losing side but the very day before the great victory of the
Court on the preliminaries. His post of Secretary at War was soon after
given to Ellis.[262] Townshend’s bons mots wounded where his conduct
could not. It being reported, to justify the treatment of the Duke of
Devonshire, that the King complained he had been kept prisoner; “True,”
said Townshend, “he is a prisoner, but he mistakes his jailor.” Another
of his sayings had not only proved a prophecy, but was often applied in
the following years. He had said of the last arrangement before Fox was
set at the head, that “it was a pretty lutestring administration, which
would do very well for summer wear.”
After so many considerable names, it will look, perhaps, like vain
presumption in me to name myself as one whom it was thought necessary
to manage. But, as it proves how low the arts and attention of Fox
could descend, and as my answer (at least, I have always suspected
so) contributed to an event of much consequence afterwards, I shall
be excused by the candid for giving some account of it. I had, soon
after my appearance in the world, lived in much intimacy with Fox,
had warmly espoused his side when persecuted by the Duke and Duchess
of Richmond,[263] and had happened to have conferred some other little
favours on him. I had carefully avoided receiving the smallest or
the greatest from him. As his character opened more to the world, I
declined any connection with him in politics, though determining never
to have a quarrel with him, as I well knew his vindictive nature. When
he united with the Duke of Newcastle, he had offered in truth slightly
enough to procure the reversion of a considerable place, which I hold
only for my brother’s life, to be confirmed for my own, provided I
would be upon good terms with the Duke. I had ever, in the most open
manner, spoken of that minister with contempt; and having never to this
hour received a favour from any minister, I shall be believed that
I never would accept one from Fox. I answered accordingly with much
scorn, “I will not accept that reversion from the Duke.” Fox, knowing
this spirit, and knowing, too, that I had declared to Lord Bute that
I would receive no favour from the Court, had no hope of fixing me to
his measures by any offers he could make. Nor yet had he had reason to
know I was averse to the preliminaries, on which I had kept silent.
The truth was, I had been civilly treated on the King’s accession,
and had so much disliked Newcastle and Hardwicke, that few men were
better pleased than myself to see a new administration; and had not
the standard of Prerogative been hoisted, and disgrace brought on
this triumphant country, I should probably have remained a satisfied
spectator. Yet was I not so steeled by the glories of the war as to be
insensible to the yearnings of humanity; and therefore, ignominious as
the articles were, my conscience would not suffer me to speak against a
treaty that would stop such effusion of blood. Sentiments, I confess,
most heroic: yet I blush not to own that they divided my sensations,
and forbad my voting _against_ the preliminaries, though I was too much
an Englishman to vote _for_ them, and accordingly left the House before
the putting of the question.
As doubtless I did not trust Fox with this situation of my breast, nor
made my court on his new dignity, he concluded I was in the number of
the disapprovers. Direct offers, or direct threats, would be vain: but
to put me in mind of my dependence on my nephew, by whose interest I
was chosen into Parliament,[264] and which dependence Fox ought to have
remembered I had braved[265] for his sake; or of my dependence on the
Treasury, which could hurt me severely[266] by stopping the payments of
my place in the Treasury; he wrote me the following letter:--
Nov. 21, 1762.
DEAR SIR,
As soon as I heard that the Parks,[267] which Lord Ashburnham
had quitted, were worth 2200_l._ a year (as they certainly
are), I thought such an income might, if not prevent, at least
procrastinate your nephew’s ruin.[268] I find nobody knows his
Lordship’s[269] thoughts on the present state of politics.
Perhaps he has none. Now, are you willing, and are you the proper
person, to tell Lord Orford that I will do my best to procure
this employment for him, if I can soon learn that he desires
it? If he does choose it, I doubt not of his and his friend
Boone’s[270] hearty assistance, and believe I shall see you too,
much oftener in the House of Commons. This is offering you a
bribe, but ’tis such a one as one honest good-natured man may
without offence offer to another.
If you undertake this, do it immediately, and have attention to
my part in it, which is delicate. If you do not undertake it, let
me know your thoughts of the proposal, whether I had better drop
it entirely, or put it into other hands, and whose.
You’ll believe me when I tell you that goodness of heart has as
much share in this to the full as policy.
Yours ever,
H. FOX.
This artful and disingenuous letter the messenger was ordered to
desire I would answer immediately. I determined at once to guard my
expressions in such a manner, that, under the appearance of the same
insincere cordiality which Fox affected to wear, it should not be
possible to fix either declaration or engagement upon me; showing him
at the same time that I would neither accept favour from him, nor be
indirectly obliged to him through my nephew. I was aware that, if I
refused to notify the offer to Lord Orford, he or his friends, and
the Court too, would raise a clamour against me for preventing his
receiving a favour that he wanted so much: and, as he was already Lord
of the Bedchamber, there could be no reason in honour why he should not
accept an addition of income; nor was there anything in his principles
that would make him difficult to be farther bound. With these views I
returned the following answer:--
Nov. 21, 1762.
DEAR SIR,
After having done[271] what the world knows I have done, to try
to retrieve the affairs of my family, and to save my nephew from
ruin, I can have little hopes that any interposition of mine will
tend to an end I wish so much. I cannot even flatter myself with
having the least weight with my Lord Orford. In the present case
I can still less indulge myself in any such hopes. You remember
in the case of the St. Michael election, how hardly he used me on
your account. I know how much he resented last year his thinking
you concerned in the contest about the borough[272] where he set
up Mr. Thomas Walpole; and, as he has not even now deigned to
answer Mr. Boone’s letter,[273] I can little expect that he will
behave with more politeness to me. Yet, I think it so much my
duty to lay before him anything for his advantage, and what is
by no means incompatible with his honour, that I will certainly
acquaint him immediately with the offer you are so good as to
make him.
You see I write to you with my usual frankness and sincerity;
and you will, I am sure, be so good as to keep to yourself the
freedom with which I mention very nice family affairs. You must
excuse me if I add one word more on myself. My wish is, that
Lord Orford should accept this offer; yet, I tell you truly, I
shall state it to him plainly and simply, without giving any
advice, not only for the reasons I have expressed above, but
because I do not mean to be involved in this affair any otherwise
than as a messenger. A man, who is so scrupulous as not to
accept any obligation for himself, cannot be allowed to accept
one for another without thinking himself bound in gratitude as
much as if done to himself. The very little share I ever mean
to take more in public affairs shall and must be dictated by
disinterested motives. I have no one virtue to support me but
that disinterestedness; and, if I act with you, no man living
shall have it to say that it was not by choice and by principle.
I am, dear sir,
Your sincere humble servant,
HORACE WALPOLE.
There were truths enough to displease, and they did not escape Fox. The
consequence to me was, that by his influence with Martin, Secretary
of the Treasury, my payments were stopped for some months, nor made
but on my writing to Lord Bute himself; which, as, notwithstanding
this persecution, I would take no part with the administration, proved
that the delay had not flowed from the minister himself, but from his
associate, my good friend: nor did it stop there. In the meantime I had
written thus to Lord Orford:--
Arlington-street, Nov. 22, 1762.
MY DEAR LORD,
I must preface what I am going to say, with desiring you to
believe that I by no means take the liberty of giving you
any advice; and should the proposal I have to make to you be
disagreeable, I beg you to excuse it, as I thought it my duty to
lay before you anything that is for your advantage, and as you
would have reason to blame me if I declined communicating to you
a lucrative offer.
I last night received a letter from Mr. Fox, in which he tells
me, that, hearing the Parks, vacant by Lord Ashburnham’s
resignation, are worth 2200_l._ a year, he will, if you desire to
succeed him, do his best to procure that employment for you, if
he can soon learn that it is your wish.
If you will be so good as to send me your answer, I will acquaint
him with it; or, if you think it more polite to thank Mr. Fox
himself for his obliging offer, I shall be very well content to
be, as I am in everything else, a cypher, except when I can show
myself,
My dear Lord,
Your very affectionate humble servant,
HORACE WALPOLE.
To this letter, nor to the offer, did Lord Orford give himself the
trouble of making the least reply; but, arriving in town on the very
day the Parliament met, he came to me, and asked what he was to do? I
replied very coldly, I did not know what he intended to do; but, if his
meaning was to accept, I supposed he ought to go to Mr. Fox, and tell
him so, I having nothing farther to do with it than barely to acquaint
him with the offer. Without preface or apology, without recollecting
his long enmity to Fox (it is true, he did not know why he was Fox’s
enemy), and without a hint of reconciliation, to Fox he went, accepted
the place, and never gave that ministry one vote afterwards; continuing
in the country, as he would have done if they had given him nothing. I
return from this digression.