I have dwelt more on this occurrence, because I am persuaded that it

indisposed the Regent’s mind, and had a great effect in determining his

subsequent conduct. He professed himself, however, so anxious to remove

all misunderstanding that he condescended to come to me in the gout and

to explain for near three hours at my couch side in Pall Mall the whole

proceeding. He assured me that he looked forward with eagerness to the

two Lords completing their arrangements; and that he was satisfied that

on nothing, except the answer regarding the restrictions, he should ever

wish to consult with anybody but Lord Grenville and those with whom he

acted. Notwithstanding these assurances, there is reason to suspect that

he complained of the two Lords to others besides Mr. Sheridan, for Lord

Yarmouth[91] made some significant remarks on their imagining themselves

more necessary to the Regent than they really were.

The difficulties in forming a Ministry were great. The Grenvilles desired

to negotiate with Mr. Canning; others of our party, and Mr. Whitbread

in particular, would never have been brought to consent to it. Lord

Grenville was also unwilling either to resign his auditorship or to

relinquish the Treasury. In the course of discussion on the latter point

his evil genius dipped him again in pen and ink, and he argued for his

profits and places in a manner which, though neither unreasonable nor

unnatural, was more becoming a merchant than a statesman aspiring to

power and fame. Such a man should consider even fair-earned emolument as

a secondary and sometimes an incompatible object. Mr. Whitbread was not

less stubborn or less offensive in his resistance to any union, direct

or indirect, of the two offices. He acknowledged all danger from such a

measure, either in itself or as a precedent, to be a mere chimera; he did

not even dwell much on the violation of constitutional principle which it

seemed to involve. The practical advantage of a Whig Administration, he

owned, far outweighed all such considerations; but he had, it seemed, in

public and private, held language on this and similar topics, which would

expose him to the charge of inconsistency, should he acquiesce in any

such arrangements. Having put a question, he said, the year before, to

Mr. Perceval, whether Mr. Yorke received his salary as teller while First

Lord of the Admiralty, and having been answered in the negative, he could

never bring himself to defend Lord Grenville’s receiving the salary of

auditor while he was First Lord of the Treasury.

After the matter had been discussed among us with great pertinacity and

some asperity on both sides, it was at last compromised, I know not

how, by the two Lords. Other difficulties in the distribution of places

no doubt occurred, but many I have forgotten, and many never reached me.

Gout continued to confine me to my bed for some time. Lord Grey acted

throughout with judgment, temper, and firmness: he gave no reasonable

cause of dissatisfaction to recent and younger partisans; he conciliated

and gratified the old friends of Mr. Fox.

I had some scruples about the Spanish war. Lord Grenville, from economy,

Lord Grey, from a propensity to criticise military movements, were

disposed to contemplate it with less hope, and possibly with less zeal,

than myself. But as they agreed on the immediate necessity of supplying

Lord Wellington’s army with reinforcements and vigorously supporting the

plans in which he was engaged, I saw no reason for reviving the shades

of difference we might have had on the origin or early progress of the

war, nor for exacting a previous concurrence of opinion in certain

contingencies which had not yet occurred. I was willing to take my chance

of the zeal which the conduct and management of the war would inevitably

have inspired in such ardent and sanguine minds as Lord Grey’s and Mr.

Whitbread’s.

While, however, delays occurred in forming a new Ministry, those in

possession did not remain inactive. Favoured by the Queen, and aided by

at least one of the physicians, they worked with great assiduity and

address on the affections, the fear, the vanity, and, some say, the

pecuniary interests of the Prince of Wales. At one time, the King’s

disorder had taken a new turn, seemed to hold out great hopes of a speedy

recovery, or was likely to terminate ere long in a restoration of his

intellect or in death. At another, the pressure of public business

called for a stable Government, and the financial operations of the

State could not be conducted with safety or advantage till the persons

entrusted with the confidence of the executive Government were known.

The effect of a clamour against Roman Catholics, the popularity which

Mr. Perceval might give to the Princess, the consequences of any change

on the King’s health, and, above all, the reproaches to which the Prince

would thereupon be exposed, were artfully insinuated by the partisans

of the Ministers and the Queen, and perhaps really felt by others who

had more direct influence over his mind as well as the opportunity of

impressing their views in softer moments. The Minister was admitted to

the presence of the King, and the Queen wrote instantly an account of

the interview to her son. I was not allowed to copy the letter, but the

substance of it was as follows: “To assure her dearest son that she was

persuaded he would be highly gratified to hear that the King was improved

in health; that he had seen Mr. Perceval, who was much satisfied with

his whole appearance; that he had held a reasonable conversation, and

inquired with great interest about all that had been done; that he had

expressed himself with kindness towards the Prince, and pleased at his

conduct _pending the business_.” She added that she “avoided all delay in

conveying such agreeable information.”

The Prince, though aware of the artifice, and even diverted at the formal

expression of, _pending the business_, which he shrewdly observed was

“no woman’s phrase, but a lawyer’s,” was nevertheless much agitated and

intimidated by the letter. Such fears were said to be improved upon by

Sir Henry Halford,[92] who repeated observations to the King, affected

to dread the consequences of any change of Ministers, not only on the

disorder, but on the life, of the King, and is much belied if he did

not convert his professional access to the Prince of Wales to purposes

purely political. The Duke of Cumberland observed in a letter, “Vaughan

(Sir Henry Halford) has behaved nobly by us all.” I cannot vouch for the

fact of his active interference, but accounts of it reached me through

channels worthy of credit, and they were generally believed.

On January 21, 1811, Lord Grey and Lord Grenville informed the Prince

Regent by letter that they were ready to undertake the Government, but

advised him to institute a fresh inquiry into the state of the King’s

health; and if it should appear probable that His Majesty would be able

to resume the exercise of the Regal functions _within a few weeks_, then

and in that case, they recommended him not to change the Ministers;

though they disclaimed all approbation, much less adoption, of their

system of policy being implied from their recommendation, or from the

Prince Regent’s compliance with it by continuing them in office. If the

result of the inquiry was different, they then repeated their readiness

to submit without delay to the Prince Regent the appointments which they

should recommend to His Royal Highness.

On the evening of the 25th, the Prince Regent, after stating to Lord

Moira, Lord Hutchinson, and Mr. Adam the agitation of his mind and

imploring them to do justice to his feelings, sent the two last to

Camelford House to inform Lord Grey and Lord Grenville that, in

consequence of the report of physicians and the probability of the King’s

recovery, he had resolved not to remove the Ministers; he expressed his

hopes that the two Lords would approve of his determination and his

sense of the disinterested as well as judicious advice they had given.

He afterwards saw them, Mr. Ponsonby, myself, and others; referred

his determination merely and exclusively to the report of the King’s

health, which, whether true or false, would, he said, subject him to

so much reproach if he did anything to aggravate his disorder, that he

must continue for a while with men whom he hated and despised. He then

proceeded to abuse them without measure, and in many particulars without

justice, declaring that he never had and never could “break bread” in

the house of any one of them. His public reception of Mr. Perceval with

the resolution of the two Houses was not only cold but offensive. When a

Privy Council was held at Carlton House and he took the oath of Regency,

the bust of Mr. Fox was ostentatiously displayed in the apartment.

In his letter to Mr. Perceval announcing his determination to preserve

him in office, he pointedly declared that an apprehension of interfering

with the progress of his father’s recovery was the consideration which

_alone_ dictated that decision. He lamented the situation in which the

Regency Bill had placed him, said of it that it was most difficult to

reconcile it to the principles of the Constitution, and broadly hinted

throughout that nothing but peculiar circumstances could have brought

him to any communication or concert with men so obnoxious to him. They,

however, lacked some of that high and jealous honour which distinguished

Lord Grey, and were not so alive as Lord Grenville to the necessity of

preserving the constitutional relation of Prince and Ministry in all

its purity. Foreseeing the practical consequences of their temporary

continuance in office, they submitted without a murmur to the indignity

of being disavowed and reviled. They consoled themselves with the

prospect of riveting their power, either by intimidating or cajoling the

person who, in the first instance, conferred it upon them so ungraciously

and so reluctantly.

Such seems to me the solution of their conduct. With respect to the

Prince Regent, I am inclined to believe that the motives he alleged had

really some weight in determining him, though some that he suppressed

had as much or more. Persons, indeed, have carried their refinement in

suspicion so far as to imagine that the Queen’s letter, the interviews

with Lord Grey and Lord Grenville and with their friends, and the

rudeness to Mr. Perceval, were all parts of a scheme, concerted like

the plot of a comedy with the Duke of Cumberland, the Lord Chancellor,

the Queen, and the Prince Regent; and that the resolution to connect

himself with those whom he affected to style his enemies was taken

very early, and produced by the high offers which Mr. Perceval made in

the arrangement for the Household, and by the suggestions which the

Royal Family, and even the mad King himself, were instructed to make

to him during the fortnight in which Lord Grey and Lord Grenville were

occupied in preparing a Ministry. Such duplicity is surely incredible,

especially as it would have been unnecessary. It is, however, true that

the old King’s wishes on one important point were urged by himself in an

interview with the Prince Regent, _viz._, on the reinstatement of the

Duke of York. The facility with which the Ministers engaged to comply

with that measure formed a strong contrast, in the mind of the Regent,

with the scruples and hesitations of Lord Grey and Lord Grenville on the

subject.

Whether he ascribed the backwardness of the two Lords to want of will or

want of power, he drew, no doubt, an inference unfavourable to the Whigs,

as either from principle less compliant with the wishes of a Court, or

from the state of parties less capable of promoting them. The position

into which the Regent had cast himself, whether from design or accident,

was, while it lasted, peculiarly adapted to secure the gratification of

any personal object he had in view. One party was full of devices to

obtain his favour; the other, of forbearance not to forfeit it. This

did not escape the friends of the Duke of York; and Lord Lauderdale,

in particular, saw the advantage of the conjuncture for obtaining

his reinstatement. He urged that measure, which in all sincerity he

thought just and wise, with more warmth of friendship to the Duke than

consideration for the interests of the party to which he belonged.

He persuaded others, and perhaps himself, that by allowing it to be

accomplished during that intermediate state of Ministry and Opposition,

the Whigs might escape the unpopularity of doing it with the public and

the odium of resisting it with the Prince Regent. Mr. Sheridan, with more

shrewdness and pleasantry, advised the Regent to wait till his father’s

predicted recovery should enable him to resume his functions, and then to

urge _him_ to adopt the measure.

The Duke of York behaved with dignity, delicacy, and propriety. He avowed

his hopes of ultimate reinstatement, but he deprecated so unpopular an

act at the commencement of his brother’s administration of affairs.

The Regent, however, urged by his family, encouraged by his Ministers,

prompted by his pride, and swayed by some generosity of affection,

replaced him.

Lord Milton,[93] against the wishes of many of our party, moved an

address in censure of this step. He divided only 47. It must be

acknowledged that among that small number were to be found some of the

best names in the House of Commons.

The impression made on the Regent by Lord Grenville’s reluctance, Mr.

Perceval’s cordial support, and Lord Milton’s open opposition, to a

measure vindicating the honour of his family and earnestly desired by

himself, was, no doubt, like that avowed by King William to the Duke

of Wharton. “After all,” said King William, “the Tories are the best

Ministers for a King.” “Yes,” replied the Duke, “but Your Majesty is not

King of the Tories.”[94] It was the endeavour of Mr. Perceval to preclude

the application of such a reply, and to make the Regent as much King of

the Tories as of the Whigs; and in that endeavour he signally succeeded.

The Regent kept up for some time his usual habits of private intercourse

with members of the Opposition. He dined at Lord Grey’s upon his own

invitation. He there authorised Lord Hutchinson to insinuate his good

wishes, if not actually to use his name, in canvassing the Irish Peerage

in favour of Lord Leitrim, the Whig candidate for a representative seat

in the House of Lords, then vacant. His situation, as it respected our

party, was indeed most anomalous. When he avowed any hostility to his

ostensible Ministers, we were bound by the fundamental principles of our

party to condemn his conduct as unconstitutional; when he betrayed any

approbation of them, we were not backward in stigmatising his conduct

as unsteady, insincere, and deceitful to us. Such a state of things

could not last, and his cordiality with the Whigs, whether real or

affected in the outset, visibly declined during the summer. I have been

prolix in relating the facts, and rigidly scrupulous in conveying my

impression of the motives of the Prince Regent, because I am satisfied

that his character will be judged by posterity, or at least that portion

of posterity which forms the future political circle of England, with

reference to his conduct during this period of his life.

A letter from General FitzPatrick[95] to his brother Lord Ossory proves

that experienced observers formed upon the same data a different

judgment, and as it is more favourable to His Royal Highness than my own,

I subjoin it, that his reputation may have the benefit of so indulgent

a testimony from a man of acknowledged sagacity and honour, accurately

informed, and not swayed by any prepossession in his favour.

_Thursday._

DEAR BROTHER,

I have had two very long audiences at Carlton House, and have

consequently been let into the minute details of _all_ that

has passed, as well as _all_ the letters, papers, etc., that

have been written in the course of the transactions that have

preceded the Prince’s final determination not to make any

change in the Government. Much as I was prepossessed that

his decision had been wrong, both with respect to his own

character, to the public interests, and towards the persons

to whom he had given his confidence, I must confess that he

has succeeded in convincing me that under the very particular

and unexampled difficulties of his situation, he has adopted

the only line of conduct he possibly could, without exposing

himself to the most odious imputations of destroying the

sanguine hopes of his father’s recovery and even endangering

his life, in order to establish an inefficient and feeble

Government, probably of very short duration, and of no power to

act with any real advantage to the public interests, or to face

or struggle with any of the difficulties which threaten the

security of the _chose publique_ from all quarters. In taking

this resolution, however, though he cannot be justly charged

with having departed from the rules of honour or _bonne foi_,

it is certainly unfortunate for himself that he did not make a

more early communication of it to those to whom he had given

his confidence, as it throws upon his conduct the appearance

of weakness, unsteadiness, and failure in point of firmness,

to which many will be more inclined to ascribe it than to the

motives of filial duty and affection upon which he himself

entirely founds it. This decision they themselves (I mean the

two G.G.’s)[96] had recommended at an earlier period in case of

a prospect of speedy recovery: and that case is now represented

to the Prince to be arrived. Upon the whole, however, it is

evident that he is the victim of a Court intrigue, managed by

the Queen and the Ladies of Windsor, a treacherous brother—the

D. of C.,[97] and an intriguing, meddling physician.

He is, in his present temper, as much indisposed and, in his

heart, as adverse to his Ministers as possible; but how long

this disposition may endure is somewhat doubtful, for if the

King be really so far recovered as to become an actor in the

conspiracy himself, he will be as tractable as they can wish

him. If you are inclined not to give him credit for all the

filial piety he professes, his anxiety to do what his father

will approve is (whether through fear or affection) excessive.

He is already in the full conviction that the King, having

been made acquainted with the state of things, has expressed

his perfect reliance upon the Prince of Wales doing whatever

is most right and proper in his situation. I believe all the

physicians do sincerely think the recovery probable, though

perhaps not, as Halford has said, highly so in _three months_;

but surely it does appear most strange that the Chancellor and

Perceval should be permitted to see and talk upon business

with him, and one of the physicians hold an intercourse upon

politics with him, when he is not sufficiently recovered to be

allowed to see the Queen or any one of his family. The leaders

of Opposition suppress their disappointment (if they feel any),

as becomes them. As to the number of guests who were invited

and ready to fall to with craving appetites, it is natural

they should feel a little as Sancho did upon the physicians

ordering every dish to be removed from the table. As none of

the feast would have come to my share, I could, of course, feel

no disappointment. You do me justice in believing that I needed

no great stock of philosophy to be contented with _otium_

even _sine dignitate_, excepting that of closing my political

career—what the course of my life seemed little to have fitted

me for an independent Knight of the Shire[98] in the House of

Commons. My love to all your house. I rejoice to hear V. S.[99]

is going on well.

Yours affectly.

R. F.

General Fitzpatrick had refused all office on the ground of his declining

health. He retained his good sense and pleasant conversation, but he

suspected that the vigour of his mind was somewhat impaired. The above

letter certainly betrays a facility of belief in the professions of the

great, for which in his more active days he was by no means remarkable.

I now return to the events of Parliament in the Session of 1811.

A circular letter was written by Mr. Secretary Pole[100] to the

magistrates of Ireland, requiring them to arrest and commit to prison

such persons as had published any notice for electing any delegate or

representative to a Catholic Convention, styled in the said circular,

in virtue of an Irish Act of 33 Geo. III., an unlawful assembly.[101]

The Act, however, authorised no such proceeding, though it made electing

such a Convention, or voting in it, a misdemeanour. The doctrine and

practice inculcated and recommended in this circular raised many of those

questions which were afterwards more ably urged and better understood, in

1817, on the motion of Lord Grey on the circular of Lord Sidmouth. The

legal part of the question was touched upon in our debates, but I was

not sufficiently informed or confident enough in my own opinion to do

it full justice. However, I entered a short protest on the Journals, in

which the power of a magistrate to hold to bail for a misdemeanour, which

does not amount to a breach of the peace, is peremptorily denied. It is

not printed in the Registers, but it was approved of by that cautious

lawyer, Sir Arthur Pigott; and Lord Chancellor Eldon acknowledged to me

in private that the law of Secretary Pole’s letter was indefensible, and

he even called it “_slovenly_” on his legs.

There was in the measure some appearance of a design to involve the

Government of the Regent as soon as possible in an altercation with

the Roman Catholic body, but Mr. Wellesley Pole was not likely to be a

party to such a design; and as the most anti-Catholic members of the

Administration disdained all previous knowledge of the proceeding, it

is reasonable to infer that such a suspicion, though plausible, was not

justified by the fact.

During the greater part of the Session of Parliament I was employed in a

Committee to inquire into the circumstances of the death of one _Culver_,

a debtor, in the Marshalsea prison. There were strong suspicions that the

wretched man had been starved to death. The evidence given before our

Committee was so indistinct and contradictory that we could not agree on

a report; and the mere evidence which we did report did not lead to any

further Parliamentary proceeding, either in the treatment of the deceased

prisoner or the conduct of the Coroner’s jury. The exposure, however, of

the state of the prison, which was in ruin, and where persons convicted

of the most disgusting offences were associated with the unfortunate

debtors during the day and then shut up with one another during the

night, led no doubt to the speedy completion of a new prison. Such a

building had been declared necessary many years before, but more progress

was made in the course of the ensuing twelve months than in twelve years

preceding the inquiry.

Further memoirs of the Whig party, 1807-1821 · 第 6 / 32 段