Commencement of the War with France--War in America--Defeat
and Death of General Braddock--Events at Sea--Fears for
Hanover--Treaties made there--Dissensions in the Royal Family
and in the Ministry--Disunion of Fox and Pitt--Ministers
endeavour to procure support in Parliament--Fox made Secretary
of State--Resignations and Promotions--Accession of the Bedford
Party--Meeting of Parliament--New Opposition of Pitt--Debates on
the Treaties--Pitt dismissed--Mr. Fox’s Circular to Members of
Parliament--Debates on the number of Seamen.
July 15th, came news that three of Admiral Boscawen’s fleet, under
the command of Captain Howe, had met, engaged, and taken three
French men-of-war. The circumstances of this action were, that
the three Frenchmen, on coming up with Howe, had demanded if it
was, Peace or war? He replied, he waited for his Admiral’s signal;
but advised them to prepare for war. The signal soon appeared
for engaging: Howe attacked, and was victorious; but one of the
French ships escaped in a fog: nine more were in sight, but, to
the great disappointment of England, got safe into the harbour of
Louisbourg. The Duke de Mirepoix had still remained in England,
writing letters to his Court of our pacific disposition. The Duke
of Newcastle, having nobody left at home undeceived, had applied
himself to deceive this Minister; and had succeeded. On this
hostile action, Monsieur de Mirepoix departed abruptly, without
taking leave, and suffered a temporary disgrace at his own Court
for his credulity. The Abbé de Bussy, formerly resident here, had
been sent after the King to Hanover, with the civilest message
that they had hitherto vouchsafed to dictate. Two days after he
had delivered it, a courier was dispatched in haste to prevent
it, and to recall him, upon the notice of our capture of the two
French ships. _They_ had meditated the war; _we_ began it. They
affected to call us pirates; their King was made to say, “_Je ne
pardonnerai pas les pirateries de cette insolente nation_.” The
point was tender, as we had at least prepared no alliances to give
strength to such alertness. However, the stroke was struck; and
it was deemed policy to follow up the blow. The Martinico fleet
was returning: it occasioned great Debates in the Council, whether
this too was not to be attacked; but the danger of giving pretence
to Spain to declare against us, if we opened the scene of war in
Europe, preponderated for the negative. In America we were not so
delicate: the next advices brought a conquest from Nova Scotia.
About three thousand of our troops, under the command of Colonel
Monckton, had laid siege to the important fort of Beau-sejour, and
carried it in four days, with scarce any loss: two other small
forts surrendered immediately.
These little prosperities were soon balanced by the miscarriage of
our principal operation in that part of the world. A resolution had
been taken here to possess ourselves of the principal French forts
on the Ohio, and in those parts; and the chief execution was to
be entrusted to two regiments sent from hence. The Duke, who had
no opinion but of regular troops, had prevailed for this measure.
Those who were better acquainted with America and the Indian manner
of fighting, advised the employment of irregulars raised on the
spot. Unhappily, the European discipline preponderated; and to
give it all its operation, a commander was selected, who, though
remiss himself, was judged proper to exact the utmost rigour of
duty. This was General Braddock, of the Guards, a man desperate in
his fortune, brutal in his behaviour, obstinate in his sentiments,
intrepid, and capable. To him was entrusted the execution of an
enterprise on Fort Duquesne. His appointments were ample; the
troops allotted to him most ill chosen, being draughts of the most
worthless in some Irish regiments, and disgusted anew by this
species of banishment.
As I am now opening some scenes of war, I must premise that
it is not my intention to enter minutely into descriptions of
battles and sieges: my ignorance in the profession would lead _me_
certainly, the reader possibly, into great mistakes; nor, had I
more experience, would such details fall within my plan, which is
rather to develope characters, and the grounds of councils, and
to illuminate other histories, than to complete a history myself.
Indeed, another reason would weigh with me against circumstantial
relations of military affairs: I have seldom understood them in
other authors. The confusion of a battle rarely leaves to any one
officer a possibility of embracing the whole operation: few are
cool enough to be preparing their narrative in the heat of action.
Historians collect relations from these disjointed or supplied
accounts; and, as different historians glean from different
relations, and add partialities of their own or of their country,
it is seldom possible to reconcile their contradictions. The events
of battles and sieges are certain; for of the _Te Deums_ which
are sometimes chanted on both sides, the mock one vanishes long
before it can usurp a place in history. The decision of actions and
enterprises shall suffice me.
At the beginning of July, Braddock began his march at the head of
two thousand men. Having reached the Little Meadows, which are
about twenty miles beyond Fort Cumberland, at Will’s Creek, he
found it necessary to leave the greatest part of his heavy baggage
at that place, under Colonel Dunbar, with orders to follow, as he
should find it practicable; himself, with about twelve hundred men
and ten pieces of artillery, advanced and encamped on the 8th,
within ten miles of Fort Duquesne. He was warned against ambuscades
and sudden attacks from the Indians: as if it were a point of
discipline to be only prepared against surprises by despising them,
he treated the notice as American panics, and advanced, with the
tranquillity of a march in Flanders, into the heart of a country
where every little art of barbarous war was still in practice.
Entering on the 9th into a hollow vale, between two thick woods, a
sudden and invisible fire put his men into confusion; they fired
disorderly and at random against an enemy whom they did not see,
and with so little command of themselves, that the greater part of
the officers fell by the shot of their own men, who, having given
one discharge, retreated precipitately. In vain were they attempted
to be rallied by their officers, who behaved like heroes, and by
Braddock, who, finding his generalship exerted too late, pushed
his valour to desperation; he had five horses killed under him,
and fell. Of sixty officers, near thirty perished; as many were
wounded. Three hundred men were left on the field. The General was
brought off by thirty English, bribed to that service by Captain
Orme, his Aide-de-camp, for a guinea and a bottle of rum a-piece.
He lived four days, a witness to the effects of his own rashness
and to his erroneous opinion of the American troops, who alone
had stood their ground. He dictated an encomium on his officers,
and expired. In one respect it was a singular battle, even in
that country; there was no scalping, no torture of prisoners, no
pursuit; our men never descried above fifty enemies. The cannon was
fetched off by the garrison of Fort Duquesne; and among the spoil
were found the Duke’s instructions to Braddock, which the French
published as a confirmation of our hostile designs. Colonel Dunbar
hurried back in great precipitation with the heavier artillery on
the first alarm from the fugitives.
What a picture was this skirmish of the vicissitude of human
affairs! What hosts had Cortez and a handful of Spaniards thrown
into dismay, and butchered, by the novel explosion of a few guns!
Here was a regular European army confounded, dispersed by a slight
band of those despised Americans, who had learned to turn those
very fire-arms against their conquerors and instructors!
These enterprises on land were accompanied on our part by seizing
great numbers of French vessels. Sir Edward Hawke was reprimanded
for letting two East Indiamen pass; and repaired his fault by
sending in two Martinico and two other ships; and these were
followed by three rich captures from St. Domingo. The French with
folded arms beheld these hostilities; and though our Admiralty
issued Letters of Marque and Reprisal on the 29th of August, they
immediately released the Blandford man-of-war, which, conveying Mr.
Lyttelton to his new government of South Carolina, had been taken
by some of their ships, who had not conceived that war on England
and from England was not war with England. As late as the beginning
of November, they persisted in their pacific civility, sending
home ten of the crew of the Blandford, who had remained sick in
France, and promising to dispatch another as soon as he should be
recovered. Lord Anson, attentive to, and, in general, expert in
maritime details, selected with great care the best officers, and
assured the King that in the approaching war he should at least
hear of no Courts-Martial. One happy consequence appeared of Sir
Benjamin Keene’s negotiations: the Spanish court refused positively
to embark in the war, having, as they declared, examined the state
of the question, and found that the French were the aggressors. Had
Ensenada remained in power, it is obvious with what candour the
examination would have been made.
But, in the midst of all this ostentation of national resentment,
symptoms of great fear appeared in the Cabinet: while Britain
dared France, its Monarch was trembling for his Hanover. As we
had given so fatal a blow to the navy of France in the last war;
as we were undoubtedly so superior to them in America; as we had
no Austrian haughtiness to feed and defend; no Dutch to betray and
counteract us, we had a reasonable presumption of carrying on a
mere naval war with honour--perhaps with success. As all our force
was at home; as our fleet was numerous; as Jacobitism had been so
unnerved by the late Rebellion, we were much less vulnerable in our
island than ever: Ireland was the only exposed part, and timely
attention might secure it. The King apprehended that he should be
punished as Elector, for the just vengeance that he was taking as
King,--the supposition was probable, and the case hard--but how was
England circumstanced? was the necessary defence of her colonies
to be pretermitted, lest her Ally, the Elector of Hanover, should
be involved in her quarrel? While that is the case, do not the
interests of the Electorate annihilate the formidable navies of
Great Britain?
As the King’s Ministers had resolved on war, his Majesty, now at
Hanover, precipitated every measure for the defence of his private
dominions. He had no English Minister with him, at least only Lord
Holderness, who was not likely to soar at once from the abject
condition of a dangling Secretary to the dignity of a remonstrating
patriot. One subsidiary treaty was hurried on with Hesse; another
with Russia, to keep the King of Prussia in awe: while to sweeten
him again, a match was negotiated for his niece, the Princess of
Brunswick, with the Prince of Wales; in short, a factory was opened
at Herenhausen, where every petty Prince that could muster and
clothe a regiment, might traffic with it to advantage: let us turn
our eyes and see how these negotiations were received at home.
There the Duke of Newcastle was absolute. He had all the advice
from wise heads that could make him get the better of rivals,
and all the childishness in himself that could make them ashamed
of his having got the better. If his fickleness could have been
tied down to any stability, his power had been endless. Yet, as
it often happens, the puny can shake, where the mighty have been
foiled--nor Pitt, nor Fox, were the engines that made the Duke of
Newcastle’s power totter. I have mentioned how early his petulant
humour had humbled Legge--never was revenge more swiftly gratified.
The treaties came over: as acquiescence to all Hanoverian measures
was the only homage which the Duke of Newcastle paid to his master,
he consented to ratify them. Being subsidiary, it was necessary
that the Treasury should sign the warrants: he could not believe
his eyes, when Legge refused to sign. He said, the contents had not
been communicated to him, nay, not to Parliament: he dared not set
his name to what the Parliament might disapprove. Nugent beseeched
him to sign; he continued firm. The step was most artful; as he saw
he must fall, and knew his own character, it was necessary to quit
with éclat. If popularity could be resuscitated, what so likely
to awaken it, as refusing to concur in a measure of profusion for
interests absolutely foreign? Some coincident circumstances tended
to confirm his resolution, and perhaps had the greatest share in
dictating it.
I have mentioned the projected match with Brunswick: the suddenness
of the measure, and the little time left for preventing it, at
once unhinged all the circumspection and prudence of the Princess.
From the death of the Prince, her object had been the government
of her son; and her attention had answered. She had taught him
great devotion, and she had taken care that he should be taught
nothing else. She saw no reason to apprehend from his own genius
that he would escape her; but bigotted, and young, and chaste, what
empire might not a youthful bride (and the Princess of Brunswick
was reckoned artful) assume over him? The Princess thought that
prudence now would be most imprudent. She immediately instilled
into her son the greatest aversion to the match: he protested
against it: but unsupported as they were, how to balance the
authority of a King who was beloved by his people, who had heaped
every possible obligation on the Princess, who, in favour of
her and her children, had taught himself to act with paternal
tenderness, and who, in this instance, would be blindly obeyed by
a Ministry that were uncontrolled? Here Legge’s art stepped in to
her assistance; and weaving Pitt’s disgusts into the toils that
they were spreading for the Duke of Newcastle, they had the finesse
to sink all mention of the Brunswick union, while they hoisted the
standard against subsidiary treaties.
Mr. Pitt, who had never contentedly acquiesced in remaining a
cipher after the death of Mr. Pelham, and who was additionally
inflamed at Mr. Fox’s being preferred to the Cabinet, had sent
old Horace Walpole to the Duke of Newcastle the day before the
King went abroad, with a peremptory demand of an explicit answer,
whether his Grace would make him Secretary of State on the first
convenient opportunity; not insisting on any person’s being
directly removed to favour him. The response was not explicit;
at least, not flattering. From that moment, it is supposed, Pitt
cast his eyes towards the successor. Early in the summer Pitt
went in form to Holland-house, and declared to Mr. Fox, that they
could have no farther connexions; that times and circumstances
forbad. Fox asked, if he had suspected him of having tried to rise
above him. Pitt protested he had not. “Yet,” said Fox, “are we on
incompatible lines?” “Not on incompatible,” replied Pitt, “but on
_convergent_: that sometime or other they might act together: that
for himself, he would accept power from no hands.” To others, Pitt
complained of Fox’s connexion with Lord Granville; and dropped to
himself a clue that led to an explanation of this rupture. “Here,”
said Pitt, “is the Duke King, and you are his Minister!” “Whatever
you may think,” replied Fox, “the Duke does not think himself
aggrandized by being of the Regency, where he has no more power
than I have.”
In fact, the Duke of Newcastle, as was mentioned before, had
prevailed to have his Royal Highness named a Regent, without
acquainting him or asking his consent. When Mr. Fox discovered the
intention, and informed the Duke, he would not believe it, and
said, “Mr. Fox, I beg your pardon, as you are to be of the number,
but I shall not think myself aggrandized.” And it was so little
considered as flattery to him, that the King did not name it to
him, but sent Lord Holderness with the notification. After this
interview and separation, Pitt and Fox imputed the rupture to each
other. The truth seemed to be this: Pitt had learned, and could not
forgive, Fox’s having disclaimed him; and being united with the
Princess, he sought this breach; which was so little welcome to
Fox, that, soon after it, a rumour prevailing that Pitt was to be
Chancellor of the Exchequer, Fox desired Legge to advise Pitt to
accept it, offering himself to take the Paymastership. Legge was
suspected of not having reported this message, to which he affirmed
Pitt had not listened. What seemed to confirm the Princess’s favour
being the price of Pitt’s rupture with Fox, and consequently of
his disclaiming the Duke, was Pitt’s appearing to pin it down to
the individual day of his visit at Holland-house, as the date from
whence his connexion with Fox was to cease. It was discovered, that
the very day before he had had a private audience of the Princess.
The only spy in the service of the Ministry was a volunteer;
Princess Amelie, who traced and unravelled the mystery of this new
faction.
However, the little junto forming at Leicester House would have
made small impression, if the Duke of Newcastle, in a fit of
folly and fear, had not dashed down his own security. Hearing
that the Duke of Devonshire, Sir George Lee, Mr. Legge, and some
others, declared their disapprobation of the treaties, his Grace
took a panic, which with full as little sense he poured into the
King the moment he returned. To soften the Duke of Devonshire,
they consented to whatever Lord Hartington should ask as terms
for treating with the Irish patriots; which disposition had
such immediate effect, that the Address of the House of Commons
of Ireland was voted without a negative, and the body of the
Opposition there manifested their readiness to sell themselves,
the moment they knew that the Lord Lieutenant had authority to
buy them. Some faint efforts towards tumults were made by little
people, who had no chance of being included in the purchase; and
the face of Lord Kildare, one of the mollifying demagogues, was
blackened on sign-posts; but when chiefs capitulate, they seldom
recede for such indignities. But more material was, who should
defend the treaties in the English Parliament? Murray shrunk from
the service--what! support them against Pitt! perhaps against Fox!
They looked down to Lord Egmont--he was uncertain, fluctuating
between the hopes of serving under the Princess in opposition, and
jealous at the prospect of serving under Pitt too. No resource lay,
but in prevailing on either Pitt or Fox to be the champion of the
new negotiations. When either was to be solicited, it was certain
that the Chancellor and the Duke of Newcastle would not give the
preference to the latter.
In this dilemma, his Grace sent for Mr. Pitt, offered him
civilities from the King, (for to that hour his Majesty had
never spoken to him but once,) a Cabinet Counsellor’s place, and
confidence. He, who had crowded the whole humility of his life
into professions of respect to the King, was not wanting now to
strain every expression of duty, and of how highly he should think
himself honoured by any ray of graciousness beaming upon him from
the Throne--for the Cabinet Counsellor’s place, he desired to
be excused. The Duke of Newcastle then lisped out a hint of the
Hessian treaty--“would he be so good as to support it?” “If,” said
Pitt, “it will be a particular compliment to his Majesty, most
undoubtedly.”--“The Russian?” “Oh! no,” cried Pitt, hastily; “not a
system of treaties.” When the Duke of Newcastle could not work upon
him, he begged another meeting in presence of the Chancellor, who,
being prepared with all his pomp, and subtilties, and temptations,
was strangely disconcerted by Pitt’s bursting into the conversation
with great humour by a panegyric on Legge, whom he termed _the
child, and deservedly the favourite child, of the Whigs_. A
conference so commenced did not seem much calculated for harmony;
and accordingly it broke up without effect. Nothing remained but
to have recourse to Fox: not expecting the application, he[4] too
had dropped intimations of his dislike to the treaties; and he
knew they had tried all men ere they could bend their aversion to
have recourse to him: yet he was not obdurate: he had repented
his former refusal; and a new motive, that must be opened, added
irresistible weight to the scale of ambition.
In his earlier life Mr. Fox had wasted his fortune in gaming; it
had been replaced by some family circumstances, but was small,
and he continued profuse. Becoming a most fond father, and his
constitution admonishing him, he took up an attention to enrich
himself precipitately. His favour with the Duke, and his office of
Secretary at War, gave him unbounded influence over recommendations
in the Army. This interest he exerted by placing Calcraft in every
lucrative light, and constituting him an Agent for regiments.
Seniority or services promoted men slowly, unless they were
disposed to employ Mr. Calcraft; and very hard conditions were
imposed on many, even of obliging them to break through promises
and overlook old friendships, in order to nominate the favourite
Agent. This traffic, so unlimited and so lucrative,[5] would
have mouldered to nothing, if Mr. Fox had gone into Opposition;
his inclination not prompting him to that part, his interest
dissuading and the Duke forbidding it; when the new overtures
arrived from the Duke of Newcastle, he took care not to consult
his former counsellors, who had been attentive only to his honour,
but listened to men far less anxious for it. Stone and Lord
Granville were the mediators; the latter, at once the victim, the
creature, and the scourge of the Duke of Newcastle, undertook
the negotiation. The Duke in his fright had offered to resign
his power to him; Lord Granville, not weak enough to accept the
boon, laughed, and said with a bitter sneer, “he was not fit to be
First Minister.” He proposed that Fox should be Chancellor of the
Exchequer--to that the Duke, still as jealous as timid, would not
listen.
At last Lord Granville settled the terms; that Fox should be
Secretary[6] of State, with a notification to be divulged, that he
had power with the King to help or hurt in the House of Commons;
and a conference being held to ratify the conditions, Fox said,
“My Lord, is it not fit that this should be the last time that we
should meet to try to agree?” “Yes,” replied the Duke, “I think
it is.” “Then,” said Fox, “if your Grace thinks so, it shall be
so.” His other terms were moderate, for not intending to be more
scrupulous than he knew the Duke of Newcastle would be, in the
observance of the articles of their friendship, he insisted on the
preferment or promotion of only five persons, Mr. Ellis, Sir John
Wynne, George Selwyn, Mr. Sloper, and a young Hamilton,[7] who,
in the preceding spring, though connected with the Chancellor’s
family, had gone with a frank abruptness, and offered his service
to Mr. Fox, telling him “that he foresaw he must one day be very
considerable; that his own fortune was easy and not pressing; he
did not disclaim ambition, but was willing to wait.” His father
had been the first Scot who ever pleaded at the English bar, and,
as it was said of him, should have been the last; the son had much
more parts. The only impediment to the new accommodation was no
obstruction; Sir Thomas Robinson cheerfully gave up the Seals,
with more grace from the sense of his unfitness, than from the
exorbitant indemnification he demanded. “He knew,” he said, “a year
and a half before, why he was selected for that office; for the
business of it, he had executed it to the best of his abilities;
for the House of Commons he had never pretended capacity.” He
desired to be restored to his old office, the Great Wardrobe,
in which he had been placed to reform it, and had succeeded.
He asked it for his own life and his son’s. They gave it him
during pleasure, with a pension of 2000_l._ a year on Ireland for
thirty-one years. When he thanked the Duke of Newcastle, he added,
with a touching tenderness, “I have seven children, and I never
looked at them with so much pleasure as to-day.” As Lord Barrington
was to be removed from the Wardrobe to make room for Sir Thomas, he
had the good fortune to find the Secretaryship at War vacant, and
slipped into it.
Lord Chesterfield hearing of this new arrangement, said, “The Duke
of Newcastle had turned out every body else, and now he has turned
out himself.” The whole was scarce adjusted before Mr. Fox had
cause to see what an oversight he had committed in extending a hand
to save the Duke of Newcastle, when he should have pushed him down
the precipice; asking Stone what they would have done if he had
not come into them, Stone owned that they would have gone to the
King and told him they could carry on his business no longer, and
that he must compose a new Ministry. How sincere the coalition was,
even on Mr. Fox’s side, appeared by his instantly dispatching an
express for Mr. Rigby, the Duke of Bedford’s chief counsellor, to
concert measures for prevailing on that Duke to return to Court,
and contribute to balance, and then to overthrow, the Duke of
Newcastle’s influence.
While the Ministry was in this ferment, they received accounts
of a victory, little owing to their councils, and which at once
repaired and contrasted Braddock’s defeat. The little Army
assembled by some of our West Indian governments, and composed
wholly of _irregulars_, had come up with the French forces to the
number of 2000, and defeated them near the Lake St. Sacrament,
with slight loss on our part, with considerable on theirs. What
enhanced the glory of the Americans was, taking prisoner the
Baron de Dieskau, the French General, an able _élève_ of Marshal
Saxe, lately dispatched from France to command in chief, while
the English Commander was a Colonel Johnson, of Irish extraction,
settled in the West Indies, and totally a stranger to European
discipline. Both Generals were wounded, the French one dangerously.
Sir William Johnson was knighted for this service; and received
from Parliament a reward of 5000_l._
Mr. Fox’s great point was to signalize his preferment by the
accession of the Duke of Bedford and his party; the faction were
sufficiently eager for such a junction, the Duke himself most
averse to it; especially as the very band of concord was to be an
approbation of the treaties; the tenour of his opposition had run
against such measures; these were certainly not more of English
stamp. When the Duchess and his connexion could not prevail on
him to give up his humour and his honour, to gratify their humour
and necessities, Mr. Fox and Lord Sandwich employed Lord Fane,
whom the Duke of Bedford esteemed as the honestest man in the
world, to write him a letter, advising his Grace to vote for the
treaties; and they were careful to prevent his conversing with Mr.
Pitt, which he wished, or with any other person, who might confirm
him in a jealousy of his honour; indeed, he did not want strong
sensations of it; they drew tears from him before they could draw
compliance. Fox would have engaged him to accept the Privy Seal,
which he had prepared the Duke of Marlborough to cede; but the
Duke of Bedford had resolution enough to refuse any employment for
himself--acquiescing to the acceptance of his friends, they rushed
to Court--what terms they obtained will be seen at the conclusion
of the year.
November 12th.--The night before the opening of the Parliament,
Mr. Fox presided at the meeting at the Cockpit, instead of Mr.
Legge, who, with Mr. Pitt, the Grenvilles, and Charles Townshend,
did not appear there. They were replaced by the Duke of Bedford’s
friends. From thence Mr. Rigby was sent to his Grace with a copy of
the Address; and to indulge him, an expression was softened that
promised too peremptory defence of Hanover.
13th.--The Houses met. The expectation of men was raised; a new
scene was ready to disclose. The inactivity of the late sessions
was dispelled; a formidable Opposition, with the successor and his
mother at the head, was apprehended: the Ministers themselves had,
till the eve of Parliament, trembled for the event of the treaties.
Legge, indefatigable in closet applications and assiduity, had
staggered many; the promotion of Fox, it was supposed, had revolted
many more. A war commenced with France; factions, if not parties,
reviving in Parliament, were novel sights to a lethargic age.
The immensity of the Debates during this whole session would,
if particularized, fatigue the reader, and swell these cursory
Memoirs to a tedious compilation: I shall select the heads of the
most striking orations, and only mark succinctly the questions and
events.
The King’s Speech acquainted the Houses with the outlines of
the steps he had taken to protect and regain his violated
dominions in America; of the expedition used in equipping a great
Maritime Force; of some land forces sent to the West Indies; of
encouragement given to the Colonies; of his Majesty’s disposition
to reasonable terms of accommodation; of the silence of France on
that head; of the pacific disposition of the King of Spain--it
very briefly touched on the tender point of the new treaties. In
the House of Lords, the Duke of Marlborough and Lord Marchmont
moved the Address. Lord Temple, the incendiary of the new
Opposition, and Lord Halifax, who could not endure any measure
that diverted attention or treasure from the support of our
American Settlements, dissented from the Address on the article of
the treaties. The Duke of Bedford decently and handsomely excused
his approbation of them: the Chancellor, the Duke of Newcastle,
and Lord Bathurst, defended them; and no division ensued; yet
Lord Temple protested: he had, unwarranted, expressed the Duke
of Devonshire’s concern at being prevented by ill health from
appearing against the treaties. His Grace was offended at, and
disavowed, Lord Temple’s use of his name: he was more hurt at the
property he had been made by old Horace Walpole, who no sooner
snuffed the scent of new troubles on German measures, than he felt
the long wished-for moment approach of wrenching a coronet from the
unwilling King. He immediately worked up the Duke of Devonshire to
thwart the treaties, declared against them himself, talked up the
Whigs to dislike them; and then deserted the Duke and his Whigs, by
compounding for a Barony, in exchange for a public defence of the
negotiations.
But the clouds that only overcast the House of Lords were a tempest
in the Commons; they did not rise till near five in the morning;
the longest Debate on record, except on the Westminster election,
in 1741. The question was opened disadvantageously for the Court,
by the imprudence of Lord Hilsborough, who was to move the Address,
and who arrived so late that the speech was read before he came:
instead of veiling, he pointed out the tendency of the treaties
as an Hanoverian measure; and seemed to describe, while he meaned
to defend, the weakness of the Government. He said, the Address
was so cautiously conceived, that it would not involve any man who
agreed to it, in voting afterwards for the treaties. That it was
plain no war on the continent was intended, or we should have seen
a larger plan laid before Parliament: here we saw no names of the
Queen of Hungary, or King of Sardinia: could we meditate a land war
without Allies? That the Russians were only calculated to curb the
King of Prussia. That such preparations both on land and sea were
making in France, as bespoke a decisive stroke; that stroke could
only fall here or on Hanover; here, our safety, there, our honour
was concerned. That his Majesty had entered into great expense in
his own particular, for defence of Hanover, though the quarrel was
England’s not the Electorate’s; and he had taken his measures so
successfully, that, with the junction of the Hessians, he could
assemble 40,000 men.
Martin, who attended his master, Legge, into Opposition, proposed
to omit that part of the Address that engaged assistance to
Hanover; but forgetting the paragraph relative to the treaties,
and the Court-party taking advantage of that slip, he corrected
his Motion, and said, he wished to avoid any subterfuge of the
Ministers; no manly Minister would steal approbation, in this
surreptitious manner, to a measure that would heap destruction on
his head. Young Hamilton[8] opened for the first time in behalf
of the treaties, and succeeded admirably: his voice, manner, and
language, were most advantageous; his arguments sound though
pointed; and his command of himself easy and undaunted. Doddington,
though nibbling at the negotiations, betrayed his willingness to
turn defendant. He said, considering how greatly unanimity had
prevailed of late, one should have thought that the ingenuity of
man--or the want of it, could not have hit on means of disunion:
these measures had accomplished it at once!--but the days of
wantoning with the public were near at an end! That he could not
frame a case where the interests of Hanover were less connected
with Great Britain; and that therefore this would be a precedent
to all posterity to make Hanover always in question. That all
hire of troops, but for furnishing our quotas to our Allies, was
wrong. That, if it was urged that this contract was cheap, as
perhaps abstractedly it was, he should answer, no; you never can
purchase a consumption cheap. That he sought for arguments to
convince, not to inflame: that, to introduce Russians into the
Empire, breaks through all the ties of the Germanic body: would
the Princes of the empire submit to see Prussia overwhelmed?--but
what must the people at home think, if taxed thus for foreign
subsidies, when engaged in a war for defending their own property?
That, acquiescing to these treaties concluded during the recess,
was giving power to the Crown to raise money without Parliament.
That the House was fallen into the dilemma of violating the
constitution, or of disgracing the King. That he would concur for
protecting Hanover, but the Journals would point out better methods
of assistance: the effectual one was, to disable the enemy from
attacking it. He wished to omit approbation of the treaties, but
would let pass the assurances to the Electorate.
George Granville, in a fine, pathetic speech, drew a picture of
the future bad peace, and made an encomium on the late cautious
Minister[9]--if this was the caution of his successors, what would
their imprudence be? Sir George Lyttelton owned, that, if the
Hessians and Russians were retained, (as no doubt they were,) for
defence of Hanover, it were a breach of the Act of Settlement; yet
he approved the measure, as he urged how unpopular it would be to
procrastinate a peace, till indemnification for Hanover could be
obtained. Nugent recommended to differ like friends, as England had
never been invaded but on supposition of our divisions. Murray, in
answer to Beckford, who had wished to have the Duke Elector, argued
that it was not in the King’s power to transfer his Electoral
dominions, unseverable both by his Majesty and by the Empire in the
present state of the Royal Family. He then painted with masterly
touches the merit of the King, who might have ensured tranquillity
to the evening of his life, had he studied only his own repose.
The French would have accorded him fair terms--then they would
have encroached a little; then referred the contested points to
Commissaries--but his Majesty disdained such tranquillity as would
entail greater difficulties on his successor and on the nation.
How hard would it be, in return, if we declared against protecting
Hanover! if we sowed his pillow with thorns! That he should be
sorry if, at the peace, we were to restore our acquisitions in
America, in exchange for Hanover, which we had abandoned!--He felt
these pictures touched, and pursued them, till he over-acted the
pathetic, almost to lamentation.
Sir George Lee (as representative of the Princess’s sentiments,
though, not having declared herself openly, she frustrated her own
views) was explicitly warm: he said, it was easy for the Ministers
to produce unanimity, by pursuing British measures. It was
necessary to take this up in a high style, to teach Ministers their
duty to the House, which, under this precedent, they would every
day more and more forget. Sir Thomas Robinson, still Ministerial,
informed the House that the merchants of France had petitioned
their Sovereign for redress--were told, “Be patient; you will have
ample satisfaction from the divisions of the British Parliament.”
Legge protested that he spoke not from a spirit of opposition or
resentment; he disapproved the one, he despised the other. Would
give his consent to distribute 500,000_l._, if it would make a
good peace; would not give 300,000_l._ or 400,000_l._ to buy a war
of ten millions. France will drive you to call for these troops,
because they will undo you; and you will have superadded (having
provoked) Prussia. The Crown can make treaties; it cannot issue
money. The nation of money-lenders will distress you. He thought
the time was come for leaving the empire to act for itself and its
own interest. We ought to have done buying up every man’s quarrel
on the continent.
Then ensued a variety of the different manners of speaking ill.
Potter flimsily; old Horace Walpole shamelessly; Dr. Hay tritely;
George Townshend poorly. The latter had concurred, he said, last
year, in granting a large sum confidentially; and was shocked to
see it so grossly misapplied. Lord Egmont assembled in one speech
more defects than had been dispersed through all the others: he
was capricious, obscure, contradictory, dubious, absurd; declared
for the negotiations, but would vote against the Address, as it
seemed to appropriate the treaties, which he thought beneficial to
England, to the service of the Electorate.
These uninteresting discourses served to heighten what wanted no
foil, Pitt’s ensuing oration. How his eloquence, like a torrent
long obstructed, burst forth with more commanding impetuosity!
He and Legge opened their new opposition in the very spirit of
their different characters. The one, humble, artful, affecting
moderation, gliding to revenge; the other, haughty, defiant, and
conscious of injury, and supreme abilities. He began with his
solicitude on the use that had been made of the sacred name of
the King, so often and so unparliamentarily, and of the cruelty
in using it so; formerly, a man would have been brought to the
bar for using it so twice: but he had perceived for some time,
that every art was practised to lower the dignity of the House; he
had long observed it dwindling, sinking! it was to that abuse he
objected. No man could feel more veneration for that name that had
been mentioned. He particularly felt grateful returns for _late
condescending goodness and gracious openings_. Nor did he as yet
feel any other sensations; as yet he had no rancour to any man who
had set himself at the head of this measure; as yet that man[10]
had only his pity. He said, he did not propose to follow all the
various flashy reasonings of the Debate, the scope of which tended
to nothing but this, “Follow your leader.” He was lost amidst the
number and contradictions, and should only skim over the most
remarkable arguments.
One[11] had argued so strangely, as if we were to turn our eyes
to these mercenaries as a reserve, if our navies should be
defeated--what! must we drain our last vital drop, and send it
to the North Pole! If you would traffic for succours with the
Czarina, why, rather than her troops, did not you hire twenty of
her ships?--he would say why? because ships could not be applied
to Hanover. In the reign of Charles the Second, what efforts were
made to procure fleets from Sweden and Denmark! Now, the natural
system of Europe was lost! He did not know what majorities would
do, but this would hang like a millstone about his neck, and sink
any Minister along with the nation. We had been told, indeed,
that Carthage, and that Spain in 88, were undone, notwithstanding
their navies--true; but not till they betook themselves to land
operations--_and Carthage had, besides, a Hannibal,[12] who
would pass the Alps_. The present war was undertaken for the
long-injured, long-neglected, long-forgotten people of America.
That Hanover had been excepted as an Ally by the Act of Limitation,
not so much for fear of prejudices, as for its locality. But we
are told we must assist them, out of justice and gratitude--out of
justice!--we can produce a charter against it--out of gratitude
indeed we ought, if Hanover has done anything in our quarrel
to draw upon her the resentments of France. Those expressions
were unparliamentary, unconstitutional. With all his duty to his
Majesty, he must say, that the King owes a supreme service to his
people--would our ancestors have used adulation like this? the very
paragraph ought to be taken notice of and punished.
Besides, is there anything in the speech about Hanover, that calls
for this resolution? Grotius declares it is not necessary even
_socium defendere si nulla spes boni exitus_--then half-turning
with an air of the greatest contempt towards Sir George Lyttelton,
he said, “A gentleman near me has talked too of writers on the
Law of Nations--Nature is the best writer; she will teach us to
be men, and not to truckle to power. The noble lord who moved the
Address seemed inspired with it! I,” continued he, “who am at a
distance from that _sanctum sanctorum_, whither the priest goes for
inspiration, I who travel through a desert, and am overwhelmed with
mountains of obscurity, cannot so easily catch a gleam to direct me
to the beauties of these negotiations--but there are parts of this
Address that do not seem to come from the same quarter with the
rest--I cannot unravel this mystery--yes,” cried he, clapping his
hand suddenly to his forehead, “I too am inspired now! it strikes
me! I remember at Lyons to have been carried to see the conflux
of the Rhone[13] and Saone;[14] this, a gentle, feeble, languid
stream, and though languid, of no depth--the other, a boisterous
and impetuous torrent--but they meet at last; and long may they
continue united, to the comfort of each other, and to the glory,
honour, and security of this nation! I wanted indeed to know whence
came the feebleness of what goes upon too many legs; whose child it
is--I see who breeds it up.
“These incoherent _un-British_ measures are what are adopted
instead of our proper force--it was our Navy that procured the
restoration of the barrier and Flanders in the last war, by
making us masters of Cape Breton. After that war, with even that
indemnification in our hands, we were forced to rejoice at a bad
peace; and bad as it was, have suffered infractions of it every
year; till the Ministers would have been stoned as they went along
the streets, if they had not at last shown resentment. Yet how
soon have they forgotten in what cause they took up arms! Are
these treaties English measures? are they preventive measures? are
they not measures of aggression? will they not provoke Prussia,
and light up a general war? If a war in Europe ensues from these
negotiations, I will always follow up the authors of this measure.
They must mean a land-war--and how preposterously do they meditate
it? Hanover is the only spot you have left to fight upon. Can you
now force the Dutch to join you? I remember, everybody remembers,
when you did force them: all our misfortunes are owing to those
daring wicked councils.[15] Subsidies annihilated ten millions in
the last war; our Navy brought in twelve millions. This is the day,
I hope, shall give the colour to my life; though it is a torrent,
I fear, nothing will resist. Out of those rash measures sprung up
a Ministry--what if a Ministry should spring out of this subsidy!
I saw that Ministry; in the morning it flourished; it was green at
noon; by night it was cut down and forgotten! But it is said, it
will disgrace the King to reject these treaties--but was not the
celebrated treaty of Hanau transmitted hither, and rejected here?
If this _is_ a preventive measure, it was only preventive[16] of
somebody’s exit. A coalition followed; and long may it last!” He
taxed Murray’s pathetic commiseration of the evening of the King’s
life, with being premeditated--“he too,” he said, “could draw a
pathetic commiseration of his Majesty; he had figured him far
from an honest Council, had figured him surrounded all the summer
with affrighted Hanoverians, and with no advocate for England
near him--but, alas! we cannot suspend the laws of Nature, and
make Hanover not an open defenceless country.” He then opposed
a pathetic picture of the distressed situation of this country;
and reverting to Murray’s image of the King, said, he believed
that within two years his Majesty would not be able to sleep in
St. James’s for the cries of a bankrupt people. He concluded with
saying, that we imitated everything of France but the spirit and
patriotism of their Parliament; and that the French thought we had
not sense and virtue enough, perhaps he thought so too, to make a
stand in the right place.
This speech, accompanied with variety of action, accents,
and irony, and set off with such happy images and allusions,
particularly in the admired comparison of the Rhone and Saone,
(though one or two of the metaphors were a little forced,) lasted
above an hour and a half, and was kept up with inimitable spirit,
though it did not begin till past one in the morning, after an
attention and fatigue of ten hours. The lateness of hours was
become a real grievance, few Debates of importance commencing
before three in the afternoon. It was a complaint so general, that
some of the great money-offices in the city were forced to change
their time of payment from the hours of ten to twelve, to those of
from twelve to two.
Fox, tired and unanimated, replied in few words, that we were no
longer a representative, if a great majority is not declarative
of the sentiments of the nation. Are we to feel no justice and
gratitude, unless the King asks it of us? that nobody had used
the King’s name so often as Pitt. That the latter had showed a
strange curiosity to know whose the measure was, while he said
he intended to arraign only the measure. Legge having compared
the treaty, (in the light of prevention to a man who, having
quarrelled with another, tells him, I am going to such a place
with sword and pistol, but don’t you come thither,) Fox said, that
many a duel had been prevented, by knowing that your enemy will
fight. The attention of the House was entirely put an end to, as
it generally was, by Admiral Vernon; and then Doddington and Sir
Francis Dashwood moving to leave in the words relative to Hanover,
and to omit those that regarded the treaty; and the former question
being first put, Pitt and those who were for leaving them out, but
did not intend to divide on that, as the least unpopular question,
said, _no_, faintly. The Speaker, who was strongly for leaving
out the Hanoverian words, gave it for the _noes_; so they were
forced to divide, and were but 105 to 311. The first division is
generally understood as the sense of the House, though in this case
it evidently was not; for though the majority for the Court was
notorious, yet the real number that dissented from the treaties did
not appear; for after the first division, many going away through
fatigue, and from having seen the superiority of the Court, on the
question of the treaties there were but 89 against 290. After the
Debate, Fox said to Pitt, “Who is the Rhone?” Pitt replied, “Is
that a fair question?” “Why,” said Fox, “as you have said so much
that I did not desire to hear, you may tell me one thing that I
would hear: am I the Rhone or Lord Granville?” Pitt answered, “You
are Granville.” Lord Temple, no bad commentator of Pitt’s meaning,
said that the Rhone meaned the Duke, Fox, and Lord Granville; the
Saone, the Duke of Newcastle, the Chancellor, and Murray. Yet it
was generally understood that the former was personal to Fox, the
latter to Newcastle; the description, _languid, yet of no depth_,
was scarce applicable to the Chancellor, by no means to Murray.
On the 15th, Mr. Fox received the Seals; and on the 20th, Lord
Holderness wrote to Mr. Pitt, Mr. Legge, and George Granville,
that his Majesty had no further occasion for their service. Pitt
answered the letter with great submission. The next day James
Granville resigned the Board of Trade. This was all the party that
followed voluntarily. Charles Townshend made an offer to Mr. Pitt,
(which being offered could not be accepted,) of resigning: Mr.
Pitt chose to turn an offer so made into a colour for having so few
followers; thanked him, but said, he desired nobody to resign on
his account. Lord Temple wrote a supplicatory letter to his sister
Lady Hesther, to use her interest with Mr. Pitt, whose fortune was
very narrow, to accept a thousand pounds a year. It was accepted.
But while this connexion was revolving to patriotism, a fatal
_ignis fatuus_ misled poor Sir George Lyttelton to clamber over the
ruins of his old friends. Not able to resist his devotion to the
Duke of Newcastle, or the impulse of his own ambition, he accepted
the office of Chancellor of the Exchequer--had they dragged Dr.
Halley from his observatory, to make him Vice-Chamberlain, or Dr.
Hales from his ventilators, to act Bayes in the Rehearsal, the
choice would have been as judicious: they turned an absent poet to
the management of the revenue, and employed a man as visionary as
Don Quixote to combat Demosthenes!
These changes had not been made before the opening of the Session,
not so much with a view to what temper Mr. Pitt might observe, as
to prevent the vacating Mr. Fox’s seat, which would have occasioned
his absence on the first day. He had written the circular letters
to the Court members, desiring their early attendance, as is
usually practised by the ruling Minister in the House of Commons,
but had marked that direction so much beyond the usual manner, and
had so injudiciously betrayed his own aspirings, that the letter
gave general offence. George Townshend, his personal enemy, and
who was dragging his brother Charles into opposition to their
uncle the Duke of Newcastle, merely on the forced connexion of
the latter with Fox, determined to complain of the letter in
Parliament. He chose the very day after Mr. Pitt’s dismission,
when, under pretence of moving for a call of the House, he said,
When a system was likely to be grafted on these treaties, unadopted
and proscribed by the constitution, he wished the House should be
full. Our Ministers, indeed, had taken upon them to add to the
usual respectable summons, not only the Ministerial invitation, but
invitation of their own. That they endeavoured to gain approbation
individually, which formerly was acquired collectively. That he did
not suppose such letters would greatly influence: who would engage
themselves so precipitately? Whoever should, their country would
despise them. That this was an unconstitutional act of a Minister
as desirous of power as ever Minister was, and who was willing to
avail himself of his colleague’s friends, though not fond of owning
his colleague’s measures. However, that the foundation of his power
was laid on a shattered edifice, disfigured by his novelties.
After these and some more such harsh and studied periods, he
produced the letter; it did not want its faults, but he knew not
how to relieve them; his awkward acrimony defeated his own purpose,
and what had seemed so offensive, now ceased to strike any body.
The letter was as follows:--
Sir,
The King has declared his intention to make me Secretary
of State, and I (very unworthy as I fear I am of such an
undertaking) must take upon me the conduct of the House of
Commons: I cannot therefore well accept the office till after the
first day’s Debate, which may be a warm one. A great attendance
that day of my friends will be of the greatest consequence to my
future situation, and I should be extremely happy if you would
for that reason show yourself among them, to the great honour of,
Dear sir, your, &c. &c.
He did not know, continued Townshend, whose the letter was; he had
heard of such a letter--he did not know that the first day of the
Session he was electing a Minister; he thought he was called to
express his duty to the King on the Address: now he was uncertain
whether we were voting measures, or more people into place--but
when gentlemen would not obey such letters, was not it necessary
to issue other summons? He would advise a Minister to make the
constitution the rule of his conduct.
Fox answered, with proper severity, that “it was usual for the
_informer_ to acquaint the House who signed such a letter, (though,
said he, that is pretty well known,) and to whom it was addressed;
though he should not insist on this; but,” continued he, “don’t
let this additional imprudence be imputed to me, that I should
be thought to have addressed one to _that_ gentleman. I hope too
that it is not a necessary part of prudence, that when one writes
to a gentleman, one should consider what figure that letter will
make, if shown. However, there was no undue influence in these
letters; nor were they sent promiscuously, but to gentlemen of
great consideration. But indeed the objectionable part proceeded
from a false writing; between the words _conduct_ and House of
Commons, other[17] words which I will not name, were accidentally
omitted.” He added, “I don’t believe that any gentleman gave a copy
of this with a design of having it shown. Mr. Townshend allows me
common sense; does he think I would say, _conduct of the House of
Commons_? It is very early to treat me as Minister; but I should
be proud of his advice. Was showing this letter behaving with the
exactness of a gentleman? I protest I don’t know[18] who it was:
whoever it was, I am persuaded he is very sorry for what he has
done. I may have writ a silly letter; I am sure one of them was
sillily addressed.”
Townshend replied, the man who received it was astonished; but
hundreds at the distance of a hundred and fifty miles could repeat
it by heart. _He was sorry he did not receive one._ He hoped there
would be no more such. Beckford said, it was usual for those in
great offices to be imprudent; he had a great regard for the
gentleman in question; he has abilities; the rest have not: we have
a better chance with a man of sense.
The same day, Mr. Ellis having moved for 50,000 seamen, including
9113 marines, and saying, that in peace we have but a fund of
40,000 sailors, it occasioned some talking, and people were going
away, when Pitt rose and said, he shuddered at hearing that our
resources for the sea service were so narrowed, especially as
Murray had pronounced that we ought to be three times as strong
as France, to cope with her. He remembered the fatal[19] measure
of the reduction to 8000; he had stated the danger then in the
face of power, and against that combined Administration, and that
collusion[20] of power that was playing the land and sea into one
another’s hands. He would pursue up the authors of such measures as
make the King’s Crown totter on his head. That never was a noble
country so perniciously neglected, so undone by the silly pride of
one man,[21] or the timidity of his colleagues, who would share
his power but not his danger. That this must one day be answered
for, unless a fatal catastrophe from our hereditary enemy overtakes
us. The peril comes from little struggles for a thing called
_power_--is it the power of doing good? On an English question
he would not hinder, but implore unanimity; would ask favours of
any Minister for his country; would have gone that morning[22] to
the honourable gentleman’s levée, to desire him to accept 50,000
seamen, not including marines. If he could obtain it, it would
be the first thing done for this country since the peace of Aix.
There would be proofs that this war had been colluded and abetted,
till broad shame had stared them in the face, till shame and
danger had come together. That he had been frightened into these
sensations from the highest authority; that the House had adopted
those terrors, and was willing to grant more assistance. The House
indeed is a fluctuating body, but he hoped would be eternal. It was
different from our councils, where everything was thought of but
the public. On the contrary, we were a willing, giving House of
Commons: the King might call for anything for an _English_ object.
That he did not dare to move for 10,000 more seamen, because he
would not blemish unanimity. He concluded with a prayer for the
King, for his posterity, for this poor, forlorn, distressed country.
Fox said, he was surprised that such a trifle as the reduction of
2000 seamen in 1751 should be made of such moment. So, not voting
2000 more, in a year after the war, was betraying this country!
If voting one man more would raise one man, he would agree to it:
but voting more, if they could not be raised, would only increase
expense. That this number was greater than we had ever had on
foot, even in declared wars against France and Spain. That he
would never hear Mr. Pelham’s measures censured without defending
them. That the reduction mentioned had been the consequence of
Mr. Pelham’s economy, and of his provision against a war. He had
discharged, too, artificers from the dockyards, and when Lord Anson
represented against it, Mr. Pelham answered, you will never pay
your debt, if you always go to the extent of what you can do. He
had wanted, the same year, to reduce the garrison of Port Mahon,
but was told by a great officer that Port Mahon could bear no
diminution. With regard to struggles, he said, What the motives of
these struggles have been, _let those, who have struggled most and
longest for power, tell_. That for himself, he had been called to
his present situation, and exerted his strength with cheerfulness
upon a melancholy occasion. That we had been told that nobody who
approached the King had sense and virtue; that sense and virtue
are somewhere else--but how shall the King hear of them? he feared
_this_ House would not inform him. What conversation will lead him
to that superior degree of it? that he would exert his degree as
cheerfully as if he had struggled for it. Perhaps he had expressed
his wishes for earlier augmentation. Mr. Pitt had asked, why it was
not made sooner? he would ask, why not demanded sooner? why did Mr.
Pitt not call sooner to arms? It came too late now, for no sense
and virtue could be added to the reigning spirit of augmentation.
Mr. Pitt rose again, and said, that neither that day nor ever had
he said that there were no sense and virtue near the Throne. If
he had been misunderstood, he might too have been misrepresented.
That if ever man had suffered by those stillettos of a Court
which assassinate the fair opinion of a man with his master, he
had. That the accusation of his having struggled for power had
been received with such assent by the House, that he must speak to
it. Was he accused of it, because he had not yielded to poor and
sordid measures which he saw tended to destroy his country? That if
he had, he might have been introduced to that august place. That
it was impossible to go into all the private details of a whole
summer, though compelled by such an uncandid manner. He should only
say, he might have had, what the honourable gentleman at a long
distance of time so gladly accepted. He had been unfortunate, but
the measures were so ruinous that he could not with conscience and
honour concur in them: would have strained the former a little, as
far as to make a compliment, in order to be admitted to that august
conversation. That having struggled for power was not the cause
of his present situation. Was it not, that he could not submit to
these treaties? The challenge, said he, is a bold one; let those
who know the truth, tell it!--if they did not, he desired not their
suffrage.
Fox rejoining, that the mention of _struggles_ had called him up
again, and that he had chosen to forget the gentleman’s former
words of _no sense and virtue near the Throne_, Pitt interrupted
him, and speaking to order, said, he averred on his honour those
words were not his: his words had been, _that France would found
her hopes on the want of sense, understanding, and virtue, in
those that govern here_. That he had not interrupted Mr. Fox
before, because he did not love to stop those whom plain truth
would answer. Fox’s modesty had taken those words to himself.
That nobody feared personal invectives less than himself, nor was
he fond of using them. That he would not put the gentleman in
mind of struggles to limit the power at which he had hinted. That
he had urged these things strongly, in order to ground judicial
proceedings. That Sir Thomas Robinson’s notable information
of the answer of the Court of France to their merchants, had
descended to the public papers. He must congratulate the Government
on having _some_ intelligence. Would France build too on his
wishing for 50,000 seamen? He did believe our information would
improve now Mr. Fox had got the Seals. Wished the latter would
tell him what language to hold, which, instead of encouraging,
would terrify France. He could not say he had treated Mr. Fox
as _the Minister_--it was not quite that yet. He never went to
the[23] place where so many bets were made, but, if he might talk
familiarly, would bet on Mr. Fox’s sense and spirit--though some
little things were against him.
“But he asks,” continued Pitt, “why I did not call out sooner?
_My_ calling out was more likely to defeat than promote. When
I remonstrated for more seamen, I was called an enemy to
Government: now I am told that I want to strew the King’s pillow
with thorns: am traduced, aspersed, calumniated, from morning to
night. _I_ would have warned the King: did _he_? If he with his
sense and spirit had represented to the King the necessity of
augmentation, it would have been made--but what! if there is any
man so wicked--don’t let it be reported that I say there is--as
to procrastinate the importing troops from Ireland, in order to
make subsidiary forces necessary! This whole summer,” continued
he, “I have been looking for Government--I saw none--thank God!
his Majesty was not here! the trade of France has been spared
sillily--there has been a dead stagnation. Orders contradicting
one another were the only symptoms of spirit. When his Majesty
returned, his kingdom was delivered back to him more like a
wreck, than as a vessel able to stem the storm. Perhaps a little
sustentation of life to this country will be obtained by a
wretched peace. These,” said he, “are my sentiments; and when a
man has truth on his side, he is not to be overborne by quick
interrogatories.” That he had not said a word of personality
to Fox: that want of virtue was not only the characteristic of
the Ministry, but of the age. That he was happy to show a zeal
not inferior to that of the Ministers. Let them show him how to
contribute to the King’s service, and then tax him with strewing
the royal pillow with thorns! But what were the services of those
who were so alert in loading him? Murray, indeed, had vaunted that
140,000 of the best troops in Europe were provided for the defence
of Hanover--who boasts of what numbers are prepared for England?
for America? Compare the countries, compare the forces that are
destined for the defence of each! Two miserable battalions of
Irish, who scarce ever saw one another, had been sent to America,
had been sent to be sacrificed--if this parallel was exaggerated,
he desired to be made happy by being told so.
Fox, with great temper, observed how unparliamentary it was to
speak so long to order: said, he was glad to hear that he was not
Minister, though he certainly had been treated so. That upon his
honour he did not know to the offer of what Mr. Pitt had said _no_.
He himself had stayed till everybody had said _no_. That he had
lived near town[24] all the summer, as happy as any man that then
heard him. His opinion had been for subsidies--was asked if it was:
on affirming it, was told, “Then support them.” Would quit, when
his opinion should be otherwise. Wished every ill might happen to
him, if he had done Mr. Pitt any hurt in the closet: thought it the
strongest point of honour not to accuse a man where he could not
defend himself. If he underwent any loss of power, should be amply
recompensed by not being treated as if he had it.
Fox, keeping thus almost wholly on the defensive, was chiefly to
be admired for his great command of himself, which the warmth
he had used to show now made remarkable. Murray, who had laid
in wait to profit of any slips that Pitt might make in this
contest, rose with an artful air of affected doubt; hinted at the
irregularity of the Debate; observed that Mr. Pitt’s proposal of
more seamen was unnecessary; “do not all estimates come from the
Crown? The Ministers must know what supplies they shall want, and
what to demand; invectives to be slighted--how great the power
of eloquence that could dress up the want of 2000 men, in 1751,
into the source of the war!--that there never was an honester man
than the Minister who determined that reduction; thought he had
died in friendship with _that_ gentleman.” Pitt could not stand
this severe reflection, but interrupted him to say, his friendship
for Mr. Pelham had been as _real_ as Murray’s. The latter, as
if corrected, continued coolly, that Mr. Pelham had wanted to
introduce a system of economy: were he alive, perhaps, we should
have fewer struggles, if all who supported under him did still.
He begged to ask one question; it was to clear up something to
himself, and for the information of others: he believed those who
sat near him understood that Mr. Pitt said he had refused Secretary
of State;--pray had he? This cut still deeper. Pitt had certainly
intended to insinuate so, but being pushed, replied, _no_, he had
only refused to come into measures.[25]
I have dwelt the longer on this Debate, (though so little was said
to the question, and though indeed there scarce was a question,)
as it greatly opened the characters of the speakers, and tended to
confirm the accounts I have given above.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] [This is inconsistent with his own account of the matter in his
correspondence with Lord Hartington, for which see the Appendix to
Lord Waldegrave’s Memoirs, where letters from Mr. Fox relating the
whole of the transactions between him and Mr. Pitt in 1755 have
been lately printed.]--E.
[5] It was strongly denied afterwards that Fox had any advantage
from this, and Calcraft’s vast riches seemed to acquit Fox of that
suspicion. Fox’s great fortune was accumulated during the time he
was Paymaster, and at the peace in the next reign. (Author.)
[6] [If the motives of Mr. Fox were as sordid as they are described
in the text, would they have induced him to quit “so unlimited and
so lucrative a traffic,” for an office higher in rank, and greater
in importance, but infinitely less profitable than the Author
pretends the Secretaryship at War to have been?]--E.
[7] William Gerard Hamilton.
[8] William Gerard Hamilton.
[9] Mr. Pelham.
[10] Fox.
[11] Lord Egmont.
[12] Alluding to the Duke.
[13] Mr. Fox
[14] Duke of Newcastle.
[15] Lord Granville’s.
[16] Duke of Newcastle.
[17] Conduct of his Majesty’s affairs in the House of Commons.
[18] The letter produced by Mr. Townshend was given to him by Sir
Edward Turner, who, on receiving it, said, “I am surprised he
writes to me; I don’t know the gentleman,”--yet Mr. Fox had been
the chief manager in the Oxford election, and had had the principal
hand in bringing Sir Edward into the House.
[19] In the year 1751.
[20] See the Memoirs for that year.
[21] Duke of Newcastle.
[22] It was the morning of Mr. Fox’s first levée.
[23] To the club at Arthur’s, formerly White’s.
[24] At Holland-house.
[25] Page 41.