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  TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

  A superscript is denoted by ^x or ^{xx}, for example M^R.

  Footnote anchors are denoted by [number], and the footnotes have been
  placed at the end of each chapter.

  The Appendix has sections marked B to K; there is no section A, and
  no section J.

  As the Editor notes in his Preface, “Some, though very few, coarse
  expressions, have been suppressed by the Editor, and the vacant
  spaces filled up by [3 or 4] asterisks.” A few names have been
  editorially omitted; these are sometimes indicated by ----
  and sometimes by ****. In addition there are four ‘thought
  breaks’ indicated by a line of 5 spaced asterisks.

  Some minor changes to the text are noted at the end of the book.




  MEMOIRS

  OF THE REIGN OF

  KING GEORGE THE SECOND.


  VOL. I.


[Illustration: GEORGE II.

London. Henry Colburn, 1846.]




  MEMOIRS

  OF THE REIGN OF

  KING GEORGE THE SECOND.


  BY

  HORACE WALPOLE,

  YOUNGEST SON OF SIR ROBERT WALPOLE, EARL OF ORFORD.


  EDITED, FROM THE ORIGINAL MSS.

  WITH A PREFACE AND NOTES,

  BY THE LATE

  LORD HOLLAND.


  Second Edition, Revised.

  _WITH THE ORIGINAL MOTTOES._


  VOL. I.


  LONDON:
  HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
  GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
  1847.




EDITOR’S

PREFACE.


The work now submitted to the public is printed from a Manuscript
of the late Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford.

Among the papers found at Strawberry Hill, after the death of Lord
Orford, was the following Memorandum, wrapped in an envelope, on
which was written, “Not to be opened till after my Will.”

  “In my Library at Strawberry Hill are two wainscot chests or boxes,
  the larger marked with an A, the lesser with a B. I desire, that as
  soon as I am dead, my Executor and Executrix will cord up strongly
  and seal the larger box, marked A, and deliver it to the Honourable
  Hugh Conway Seymour, to be kept by him unopened and unsealed till
  the eldest son of Lady Waldegrave, or whichever of her sons, being
  Earl of Waldegrave, shall attain the age of twenty-five years; when
  the said chest, with whatever it contains, shall be delivered
  to him for his own. And I beg that the Honourable Hugh Conway
  Seymour, when he shall receive the said chest, will give a promise
  in writing, signed by him, to Lady Waldegrave, that he or his
  Representatives will deliver the said chest unopened and unsealed,
  by my Executor and Executrix, to the first son of Lady Waldegrave
  who shall attain the age of twenty-five years. The key of the said
  chest is in one of the cupboards of the Green Closet, within the
  Blue Breakfast Room, at Strawberry Hill, and that key, I desire,
  may be delivered to Laura, Lady Waldegrave, to be kept by her till
  her son shall receive the chest.

      (Signed) “HOR. WALPOLE, Earl of Orford.

  “August 19, 1796.”

In obedience to these directions, the box described in the
preceding Memorandum was corded and sealed with the seals of the
Honourable Mrs. Damer and the late Lord Frederick Campbell, the
Executrix and Executor of Lord Orford, and by them delivered to
the late Lord Hugh Seymour, by whose Representatives it was given
up, unopened and unsealed, to the present Earl of Waldegrave, when
he attained the age of twenty-five. On examining the box, it was
found to contain a number of manuscript volumes and other papers,
among which were the Memoirs now published.

Though no directions were left by Lord Orford for the publication
of these Memoirs, there can be little doubt of his intention
that they should one day or other be communicated to the world.
Innumerable passages in the Memoirs show they were written for
the public. The precautions of the Author to preserve them for a
certain number of years from inspection, are a proof, not of his
intention that they should remain always in the private hands of
his family, but of his fears lest, if divulged, they might be
published prematurely; and the term fixed for opening the chest
seems to mark the distance of time when he thought they might be
made public without impropriety. Ten years have elapsed since that
period, and more than sixty years since the last of the historical
events he commemorates in this work.[1] No man is now alive whose
character or conduct is the subject of praise or censure in these
Memoirs.

The printed correspondence of Lord Orford contains allusions to
this work. In a letter written in 1752,[2] he informs Mr. Montagu,
that “his Memoirs of last year are quite finished,” but that he
means to “add some pages of notes that will not want anecdotes;”
and in answer to that gentleman,[3] who had threatened him in jest
with a Messenger from the Secretary’s Office to seize his papers,
after a ludicrous account of the alarm into which he had been
thrown by the actual arrival of a King’s Messenger at his door,
he adds, “however, I have buried the Memoirs under the oak in my
garden, where they are to be found a thousand years hence, and
taken, perhaps, for a Runic history in rhyme.”

The Postscript, printed in this edition at the end of the Preface,
but annexed by the Author to his Memoirs of the year 1751,
evidently implies, that what he had then written was destined for
publication. It is addressed in the usual style of an author to
his reader, and contains an answer to objections that might be
made to him. In this answer or apology for his work he justifies
the freedom of his strictures on public men, vindicates the
impartiality of his characters and narrative, claims the merit of
care and fidelity in his reports of parliamentary proceedings,
and explains the sources of information from which he derived
his knowledge of the many private anecdotes and transactions he
relates.

In the beginning of his Memoirs of 1752, he again speaks of his
work as one ultimately destined for the public. “I sit down,” he
says, “to resume a task, for which I fear Posterity will condemn
the Author, at the same time that they feel their curiosity
gratified.”

Many other passages might be quoted that imply he wrote for
Posterity, with an intention that at some future time his work
should be given to the public. “These sheets,” he remarks, “were
less intended for a history of war than for civil annals. Whatever
tends to a knowledge of the characters of remarkable persons, of
the manners of the age, and of its political intrigues, comes
properly within my plan. I am more attentive to deserve the
thanks of Posterity than their admiration.”--“I am no historian,”
he observes in another place; “I write casual memoirs, I draw
characters, I preserve anecdotes, which my superiors, the
historians of Britain, may enchase into their mighty annals, or
pass over at pleasure.”--“To be read for a few years is immortality
enough for such a writer as me.”--“Posterity, this is an impartial
picture.”

At the conclusion of his Memoirs of 1758, where the Author makes
a pause in his work, and seems uncertain whether he should ever
resume it or not, he again addresses himself to his readers in the
style of an author looking forward to publication. If he should
ever continue his work, he warns his readers “not to expect so much
intelligence and information in any of the subsequent pages as
may have appeared in the preceding.”--“During the former period,”
he goes on to observe, “I lived in the centre of business, was
intimately acquainted with many of the chief actors, was eager in
politics, indefatigable in heaping up knowledge and materials for
my work. Now, detached from these busy scenes, with many political
connexions dropped or dissolved, indifferent to events, and
indolent, I shall have fewer opportunities of informing myself or
others.”

He then proceeds to give a character of himself, and to “lay
open to his readers his nearest sentiments.” He acknowledges
some enmities and resentments, confesses that he has been
injured by some, and treated by others with ingratitude, but
assures his readers, as he probably thought himself, that he
has written without bias or partiality, “that affection and
veneration for truth and justice have preponderated above all
other considerations,” and that when he has expressed himself of
particular men with a severity that may appear objectionable, it
was “the unamiableness of the characters he blames that imprinted
the dislikes,” to which he pleads guilty. Can it be supposed, he
asks, that “he would sacrifice the integrity of these Memoirs, _his
favourite labour_, to a little revenge that he shall never taste?”
Whatever may be thought of the soundness of this reasoning, and
whatever opinion may be formed of the impartiality of his work,
it seems impossible that anything short of a positive injunction
to commit his Memoirs to the Press could have conveyed a stronger
indication of the intention and desire of the Author, that, at some
future period after his decease, this _his favourite labour_ should
be communicated to the public.

The extraordinary pains taken by Lord Orford to correct and improve
his Memoirs, and prepare them for publication, afford no less
convincing proof of his intentions in the legacy of his work. The
whole of the Memoirs now published have been written over twice,
and the early part three times. The first sketches or foul copies
of the work are in his own hand-writing; then follows what he
calls the corrected and transcribed copy, which is also written
by himself; and this third or last copy, extending to the end of
1755, is written by his secretary or amanuensis, Mr. Kirkgate, with
some corrections by himself, and the notes on the blank pages,
opposite to the fair copy, entirely in his own hand. This last copy
was bound into two regular volumes, with etchings from designs
furnished by Bentley and Muntz, to serve as a frontispiece to the
whole work, and as head-pieces for each chapter, explanations of
which were subjoined at the end.

So much for the authenticity of the present work, and obvious
intention of the Author that after a sufficient lapse of years it
should be published. Of the Author himself, so well known by his
numerous publications, little need be said, except to give the
dates of his entrance into Parliament, and of his retirement from
public life, with some few observations on his political character
and connexions.

Horace Walpole, afterwards Earl of Orford, was third son of the
celebrated Sir Robert Walpole. He was born on the 5th of October,
1717, and brought into Parliament in 1741, for the borough of
Callington. At the general election in 1747, he was returned
a second time for the same borough; and in 1754 he came into
Parliament for Castle Rising. On the death of his uncle, Lord
Walpole, of Wolterton, in 1757, he accepted the Chiltern Hundreds,
in order to succeed his cousin, become Lord Walpole, in the
representation of Lynn Regis, “the Corporation of which had such
reverence for his father’s memory, that they would not bear distant
relations while he had sons living.”[4] At the general election
for 1761, he was again returned for Lynn without opposition; but
being threatened with a contested election, and heartily tired of
politics, from which he had in a great measure withdrawn after the
accession of his friends to office in 1765, he voluntarily retired
from Parliament in 1768. In 1791 he succeeded his nephew as Earl of
Orford, and died on the 2nd of March, 1797, in the eightieth year
of his age.

The House of Commons, in which Mr. Walpole first sat, was the one
that overturned his father’s Administration. In the very first week
of the session, the Minister was left in a minority. He still,
however, kept his place, and so nearly were parties balanced,
that for two months he maintained, with alternate victories and
reverses, a contest with his adversaries. At length, secretly
betrayed by some of his colleagues, who had entered into private
engagements with his enemies, and defeated in an election
question, which had been made a trial of strength between Ministry
and Opposition, he retired from office, and became Earl of Orford.

His son Horace, though exempt from ambition, was roused by
his father’s danger, and, while the struggle lasted, took a
lively interest in all that passed. In his letters, he gives an
entertaining and not uncandid account of the Debates that took
place, and communicates freely to his Correspondent the hopes and
fears, the good and bad success of his party; his anticipations
of their strength in the different questions as they arose, are
followed by his explanations of their failures, as far as he could
account for them at the time; the desertion and falling off of
their friends are stigmatized as they occurred, with the severity
such conduct deserved; and when Sir Robert was compelled to resign,
his son records with satisfaction the successful efforts used to
secure him from the vengeance of his enemies, by disuniting the
parties coalesced against him, and rendering them odious to the
public, and hostile to one another.

But, though assiduous in his attendance on Parliament during this
period, and sincerely anxious for his father, Mr. Walpole, who
had no turn for public speaking, once and once only addressed
the House. It was on a motion of Lord Limerick, seconded by Sir
John St. Aubin, to appoint a Committee of Inquiry into the conduct
of Robert, Earl of Orford, during the last ten years of his
Administration.[5] A similar motion to inquire generally into the
conduct of affairs at home and abroad for the last twenty, had been
made and rejected a fortnight before.[6] The selection of this
occasion for his maiden speech, did credit to the judgment and
feelings of Mr. Walpole; and, though there is little force in his
arguments against the motion, there is modesty, right feeling, and
some happiness, both of thought and expression, in what he said.
The speech, as he delivered it, is preserved in his Correspondence;
and as it has no sort of resemblance to the speech published
in his name by the London Magazine, and since reprinted in the
Parliamentary History, we subjoin it for the satisfaction of our
readers. The report of it, given by Mr. Walpole himself the day
after it was made, is as follows:--

      “Mr. Speaker,

  “I have always thought, Sir, that incapacity and inexperience
  must prejudice the cause they undertake to defend; and it has
  been diffidence of myself, not distrust of the cause, that has
  hitherto made me so silent upon a point on which I ought to have
  appeared so zealous.

  “While the attempts for this inquiry were made in general terms,
  I should have thought it presumption in me to stand up and defend
  measures in which so many abler men have been engaged, and
  which, consequently, they could so much better support: but when
  the attack grows more personal, it grows my duty to oppose it
  more particularly; lest I be suspected of an ingratitude, which
  my heart disdains. But I think, Sir, I cannot be suspected of
  that, unless my not having abilities to defend my father can be
  construed into a desire not to defend him.

  “My experience, Sir, is very small; I have never been conversant
  in business and politics, and have sat a very short time in this
  House. With so slight a fund, I must mistrust my power to serve
  him, especially as in the short time I have sat here, I have seen
  that not his own knowledge, innocence, and eloquence, have been
  able to protect him against a powerful and determined party. I
  have seen, since his retirement, that he has many great and noble
  friends, who have been able to protect him from farther violence.
  But, Sir, when no repulses can calm the clamour against him,
  no motives should sway his friends from openly undertaking his
  defence. When the King has conferred rewards on his services;
  when the Parliament has refused its assent to any inquiries of
  complaint against him, it is but maintaining the King’s and
  our own honour to reject this Motion, for the repeating which,
  however, I cannot think the authors to blame, as I suppose, now
  they have turned him out, they are willing to inquire whether
  they had any reason to do so.

  “I shall say no more, Sir, but leave the material part of this
  defence to the impartiality, candour, and credit of men who are
  no ways dependent on him. He has already found that defence,
  Sir, and I hope he always will. It is to their authority I
  trust; and to me it is the strongest proof of innocence, that
  for twenty years together no crime could be solemnly alleged
  against him; and, since his dismission, he has seen a majority
  rise up to defend his character, in that very House of Commons in
  which a majority had overturned his power. As, therefore, Sir,
  I must think him innocent, I must stand up to protect him from
  injustice--had he been accused, I should not have given the House
  this trouble; but I think, Sir, that the precedent of what was
  done upon this question a few days ago, sufficient reason, if I
  had no other, for me to give my negative now.”

This speech of a son, in defence of his father, appears to have
been well received by the House. Mr. Pitt, who was at that time one
of the most violent against Lord Orford, said in reply, “How very
commendable it was in Mr. Walpole to have made the above speech,
which must have made an impression on the House; but, if it was
becoming in him to remember that he was the child of the accused,
the House ought to remember, too, that they are the children of
their country.” “It was a great compliment from him,” adds Mr.
Walpole, “and very artful, too.” The Motion was carried by a
majority of 252 to 245. Nothing was made of the inquiry.

For many years after the fall of Lord Orford, Mr. Walpole took
an active part in all the political intrigues and dissensions
of the times. Though he had not been treated, as he frequently
hints, with any great kindness or indulgence by his father, he
was indignant at the persecution against him, and appears to have
been warmly and affectionately attached to his memory. In his
private correspondence, he continually alludes to the mild and
prudent policy of Sir Robert, and contrasts it with the violence
and rashness of succeeding Ministers; and, as he advanced in life,
these impressions became stronger, and recur more frequently in
his writings. His political connexions were originally with his
father’s friends; and for many years he appears to have indulged
in sentiments of bitter hostility towards his enemies. When any of
them were guilty of tergiversations, either in their public conduct
or political friendships, he never fails in his correspondence to
mark their perfidy and inconsistencies, and seems to enjoy with
delight their apostasy and disgrace. But after a certain time he
became less inimical to their persons, though to the end of his
life he never ceased to blame their persecution of his father,
which, indeed, many of them subsequently acknowledged to have been
unmerited and unjust.

At the time when these Memoirs commence, the resentments he
retained on his father’s account were directed less against the
enemies who had openly opposed, than against the friends who had
secretly betrayed and deserted him. He appears, for instance,
to have been reconciled very speedily to Lord Granville, and
ultimately to have become a warm admirer of Mr. Pitt. But
against the Pelhams and Lord Hardwicke, whom he repeatedly and
unequivocally charges with treachery to his father, his resentment
was implacable.[7] In the early part of his public life, his chief
political friends appear to have been Mr. Winnington and Mr. Fox.
For the former, who died in 1746, his admiration was unbounded.

In his Memoirs, indeed, where in no instance but one he ever
confers praise unmixed with censure, he bestows on Mr. Winnington
the character of being one “whom it was impossible to hate or
to trust;” and, in a subsequent passage, he describes him “as
perniciously witty, affecting an honesty in avowing whatever was
dishonourable.” But, in his private correspondence, written
immediately after the sudden and melancholy death of Mr.
Winnington,[8] he calls him one of the first men in England, and
adds, “I was familiarly acquainted with him, loved and admired him,
for he had great good-nature, and a quickness of wit most peculiar
to himself; and for his public talents he has left nobody equal to
him, as before nobody was superior to him but my father.”

With Mr. Fox he appears to have lived on the most confidential
terms, till that gentleman accepted the Seals in 1755 under the
Duke of Newcastle. Mr. Walpole, whose inveteracy to the Pelhams was
unabated, could not pardon in his father’s friend, a connexion with
the man whom he regarded as the chief traitor in the accomplishment
of his father’s ruin. The step too was taken without consulting
him. This added to his indignation; and from that time, though he
continued in habits of intimacy with Mr. Fox, he became cold to his
interests, and, by his own account, was, on one important occasion,
active and successful in traversing his designs.

He was, in truth, during the whole of his public life, too much
under the guidance of personal feelings and resentments, and too
apt to sacrifice his friendships to his aversions; and as the
latter were often excited by trivial and accidental causes, his
political conduct, though unexceptionable on the score of interest
or ambition, was fluctuating and uncertain, and his judgment of
men variable and capricious. The affair of Admiral Byng, in which
he took a part that does credit to his feelings and humanity,
completed his estrangement from Mr. Fox. He animadverts with great
severity on the cruelty of obstructing an irregular application
for mercy with the view of embarrassing an Administration. The
questionable conduct of Mr. Fox on that occasion seems to have
deserved some such censure; but Mr. Walpole betrays his own
partiality by the comparative tenderness with which he treats the
Ministers themselves. They had it in their power to save Admiral
Byng, and justice as well as humanity required them to exert it if
they thought him either injured or innocent. Yet they chose to sign
the warrant for his execution rather than incur the odium with the
King or the public of insisting on his pardon.

About the time of his separation from Mr. Fox, Mr. Walpole appears
to have lost the influence he had acquired over the Duke of Bedford
through the intervention of Mr. Rigby; and during the latter part
of these Memoirs, detached from all political intimacies, he seems
to have had no better means of information than might have been
possessed by any other industrious and attentive member of the
House of Commons.

On the merits of the present work it would be improper to enlarge
in this place. That it contains much curious and original
information will not be disputed. The intimacy which the Author
enjoyed with many of the chief personages of the times, and what he
calls, “his propensity to faction,” made him acquainted with the
most secret intrigues and negotiations of parties; and where his
resentments did not cloud his judgment, his indifference to the
common objects of ambition rendered him an impartial spectator of
their quarrels and accommodations. The period of which he treats
was not distinguished by splendid virtues or great vices, by
extraordinary events or great revolutions; but it is a part of our
history little known to us, and not undeserving our curiosity, as
it forms the transition from the expiring struggles of Jacobitism
to the more important contests that have since engaged, and still
occupy our attention.

The account of Parliamentary Debates in these Memoirs would
alone be a valuable addition to our history. No one is ignorant,
that from the fall of Sir Robert Walpole to the American war,
our reports of the proceedings in Parliament are more barren and
unsatisfactory than at any period since the reign of James the
First. For the last ten years of George the Second, Mr. Walpole
has supplied that deficiency in a manner equally entertaining
and instructive. His method was to make notes of each speaker’s
argument during the Debate, and frequently to take down his
expressions. He afterwards wrote out the speeches at greater
length, and described the impression they made on the House. The
anecdotes interspersed in the work are numerous, and, from the
veracity of the Author, when they are founded on his personal
knowledge, they may always be received as authentic. When derived
from others, or from the common rumour of the day, he gives his
authority for them, and enables his readers to judge of the
credibility they deserve.

To his portraits it will be objected, that in general they incline
to severity, and though he professed, and probably intended the
strictest impartiality in his delineations of character, it cannot
be denied that they are sometimes heightened by friendship, and
more frequently discoloured by resentment; and on many occasions it
is evident, that they are dictated by the conduct of the persons he
describes in the last occurrence that brought them before his eyes,
rather than by a steady and comprehensive view of their merits
and defects. His observations on the Cavendishes may be taken as
an illustration of this remark. He seldom mentions the two Dukes
of Devonshire, who flourished in his time, without some sneer or
malignant reflection. The truth was, that notwithstanding his
Whiggism, he held all the members of that family in detestation,
on account of the part they had taken against him on his breach
with his uncle Lord Walpole. Yet, within a few years after
the conclusion of these Memoirs, when William, fourth Duke of
Devonshire, had bequeathed five thousand pounds to his friend Mr.
Conway, in approbation of his public conduct, he uses the following
exaggerated expressions in speaking of the legacy.

“You might despise,” he writes to Mr. Conway,[9] “the acquisition
of five thousand pounds simply; but when that sum is a public
testimonial to your virtue, and bequeathed _by a man so virtuous_,
it is worth a million. Who says virtue is not rewarded in this
world? It is rewarded by virtue, and persecuted by the bad: can
greater honour be paid to it?”

There are, indeed, few persons in his Memoirs, of whom he does
not vary his opinion in the course of his work. Marshal Conway,
the Pelhams, and Lord Hardwicke, are almost the only exceptions.
He always speaks of Marshal Conway with affection and respect; of
Mr. Pelham with dislike; of Lord Hardwicke with hatred; and of the
Duke of Newcastle with contempt and aversion. Of other persons
mentioned in his book, there is scarcely any strong expression
of commendation or censure, which in some subsequent passage he
does not qualify, soften, or contradict. It is a proof, however,
of his fairness, at least of his desire to give his readers the
impression he formed at the time of the personages and transactions
he describes, that even when he changed his opinion, he allowed his
original account to remain, leaving it to be effaced in the minds
of others, as it was not unfrequently in his own, by subsequent
reflections and events. In some instances, but rarely, he subjoins
a note correcting his first impression: more frequently he only
intimates to his readers his change of sentiment by the difference
of his language with respect to the person he had before
described. In his Memoirs of 1752, for example, he characterizes
Lord George Sackville as a man “of distinguished bravery,” and that
passage he has left as originally written, though after the battle
of Minden he appears to have had more than doubts of Lord George’s
courage. He was, in truth, as he says of himself, a bitter, but
placable enemy, a warm, but (one instance only excepted) an
inconstant friend.

It remains only to say a few words of the labours of the Editor.
He has added some notes marked (E), and in some very few instances
added or altered a word for the sake of delicacy or perspicuity. On
such occasions the word added, or substituted, is printed between
brackets of this shape [ ].

The spelling of the manuscript is peculiar, and different from
that in ordinary use. It was the intention of the editor to
have followed this orthography in the printed book, knowing it
was the result of system and affectation, and not of accident
or carelessness. He has accordingly retained it in the title of
the book, and in words of unfrequent recurrence; but, finding
such vicious and affected orthography disfigured the text, and
fearing it might perplex on perusal, he determined in common
words to revert to the usual and approved mode of spelling. The
word _to-morrow_, for instance, which Lord Orford always writes
_to-morow_, he has printed in the usual manner.

With respect to omissions, it is right to inform the reader, that
one gross, indelicate, and ill-authenticated story had been cut
out by Lord Waldegrave before the manuscript was delivered to the
Editor; but he is assured the Author himself acknowledged that
the facts related in it rested on no authority but mere rumour.
Some, though very few, coarse expressions, have been suppressed
by the Editor, and the vacant spaces filled up by asterisks;
and two or three passages, affecting the private characters of
private persons, and nowise connected with any political event,
or illustrative of any great public character, have been omitted.
Sarcasms on mere bodily infirmity, in which the Author was too
apt to indulge, have in some instances been expunged; and where
private amours were mentioned in the notes or appendix, the name
of the lady has been seldom printed at length, unless the story
was already known, or intimately connected with some event of
importance, to the elucidation of which it was indispensable.
Such liberties would be still more necessary if the remaining
historical works of Lord Orford were ever to see the light. They
have been very sparingly used on the present occasion, and appeared
to be warranted by the consideration, that, though the work had
been obviously written for publication, it was left without
directions how to dispose of it, and entirely at the discretion of
those by whose authority it is now given to the public. Greater
freedom might perhaps have been taken, without prejudice to the
Author, or to his Memoirs. But the Editor was unwilling to omit
any fact or anecdote, that had a direct or indirect tendency to
illustrate the causes, or trace the progress of any political
change or public event. The few omissions made are entirely of
a private nature, and, in general, regard persons comparatively
insignificant.

The Author had himself affixed an Appendix to the work. Some of his
notes, which were of an inconvenient length, have been transferred
to that part of the book, and some articles have been added by the
Editor. The latter are marked with asterisks, and are for the most
part taken from notes and compilations of Lord Orford himself, or
of some contemporary pen.


FOOTNOTES:

[1] The reader will bear in mind, that some years have elapsed
since this was written.

[2] June 6th, 1752.

[3] July 20th, 1752.

[4] Correspondence, Feb. 13th, 1757.

[5] March 23rd, 1742.

[6] March 9th, 1742.

[7] A story of the private intrigues of the Duke of Newcastle with
Lord Carteret, during Sir Robert Walpole’s Administration, is told
by Lord Orford in his Common Place Book. When Lord Hervey was to
be made Privy Seal (in 1740), the Duke of Newcastle, to prevent
the appointment, obtained Lord Carteret’s consent to accept the
office, and moved at Council, that it should be offered to him. Sir
Robert said he did not know whether Lord Carteret (who was then in
Opposition) would take the place. The Duke said he would answer for
him. Sir Robert replied, “I always suspected you had been dabbling
there, now I know it; but if you make such bargains, I don’t think
myself obliged to keep them.” Lord Hervey had the office.

[8] Correspondence, April 25, 1746.

[9] Letter to Mr. Conway, October 13, 1764.




THE AUTHOR’S

POSTSCRIPT[10]

TO THESE MEMOIRS.


The reader has now seen these Memoirs; and though some who know
mankind, and the various follies, faults and virtues, that are
blended in our imperfect natures, may smile with me at this free
relation of what I have seen and known, yet I am aware that more
will be offended at the liberty I have taken in painting men as
they are; and that many, from private connexions of party and
family, will dislike meeting such unflattered portraits of their
heroes or their relations. Yet this, I fear, must always be the
case in any history written impartially by an eye witness: and eye
witnesses have been generally allowed the properest historians.
Indeed, the editor of Chalon’s History of France was of a different
opinion, and lamented that Thuanus, who has obliged the world with
so complete and so ample a history of his own times, should have
_confined_ himself to write nothing but what passed in his own
time, and _comme sous ses propres yeux_.[11]

Thus much I shall premise: if I had intended a romance, I would not
have chosen real personages for the actors in it; few men can sit
for patterns of perfect virtue. If I had intended a satire, I would
not have amassed so many facts, which, if not true, would only tend
to discredit the Author, not those he may censure. Yet councils and
transactions, not persons, are what I anywhere mean[12] to blame.
The celebrated Bayle has indeed offered a notable excuse for all
who may offend on the severer side. “The perfection of a history,”
says he,[13] “is, when it displeases all sects and all nations,
this being a proof that the author neither flatters nor spares any
of them, and tells the truth to all parties.” A latitude this, in
which I am not at all desirous of being comprehended; nor very
reconcileable with a notion of history which he has laid down
in another place.[14] There he says, “As the sacred history was
not the work of a particular person, but of a set of men, who had
received from God a special commission to write; in like manner,
civil history ought to be drawn up by none but persons appointed by
the State for that purpose.”

Unless State writers could be inspired, too, I fear history would
become the most useless of all studies. One knows pretty well what
sort of directions, what sort of information would be given from a
Secretary’s office; how much veracity would be found, even if the
highest in the historical commission were a Bishop Sprat. It is not
easy to conceive how Bayle, who thought it his duty to collect and
publish every scandalous anecdote from the most obsolete libels,
should at last have prescribed a method of writing history, which
reduces it to the very essence of a gazette; a kind of authorized
composition which the most partial bigots to a Court have piqued
themselves upon exposing. Roger North, the voluminous squabbler
in defence of the most unjustifiable excesses of Charles the
Second’s Administration, has drawn[15] the following picture of
State Historians. “It was hard to varnish over the unaccountable
advancement of this noble Lord without aid of the Gazetteer--but
the historian has made sure of a lofty character of his Lordship,
by taking it from the Court. We may observe in his book in most
years a catalogue of preferments, with dates and remarks, which
latter, by the secretarian touches, show out of what shop he had
them; and certainly the most unfit for history of any, because
they are for the most part not intended for truth but flourish;
and what have Court compliments to do with history?” Here I beg
leave to rest this part of my apology; and proceed to answer other
objections, which I foresee will be made to me.

For the facts, such as were not public, I received chiefly from
my father and Mr. Fox, both men of veracity; and some from
communication with the Duke of Bedford at the very time they were
in agitation. I am content to rest their authenticity on the
sincerity of such men; at the same time I beg it may be remembered,
that I never assert anything positively unless from very good
authority; and it may be observed, that where I am not certain, I
always say, _it was said, it was believed, it was supposed_, or use
some such phrase. The speeches, I can affirm, nay, of every one of
them, to be still more authentic, as I took notes at the time, and
have delivered the arguments just as I heard them; never conceiving
how it can be proper in a real history to compose orations, as very
probably counsels were not taken in consequence of those arguments
which the Author supplies; and by that means his reasoning is not
only fictitious, but misleads the reader. I do not pretend by
this to assert, that parliamentary determinations are taken in
consequence of any arguments the Parliament hears; I only pretend
to deliver the arguments that were thought proper to be given, and
thought proper to be taken.

It will perhaps be thought that some of the characters are drawn
in too unfavourable a light. It has been the mode to make this
objection to an honest Author, Bishop Burnet, though he only
did what Tacitus, the Cardinal de Retz, and other most approved
historians taught him to do, that is, speak the truth. If I have
thought such authorities sufficient, I have at least acted with
this farther caution, that I have endeavoured to illustrate, as far
as I could, my assertions by facts, and given instances of effects
naturally flowing from the qualities I ascribe to my actors. If,
after all, many of the characters are bad, let it be remembered,
that the scenes I describe passed in the highest life, _the soil
the Vices like_:[16] and whoever expects to read a detail of such
revolutions as these brought about by heroes and philosophers,
would expect--what? why, transactions that never would have
happened if the actors had been virtuous.

But to appease such scrupulous readers--here are no assassins, no
poisoners, no Neros, Borgias, Catilines, Richards of York! Here
are the foibles of an age, no very bad one; treacherous Ministers,
mock Patriots, complaisant Parliaments, fallible Princes. So far
from being desirous of writing up to the severe dignity of Roman
historians, I am glad I have an opportunity of saying no worse--yet
if I had, I should have used it.

Another objection which I foresee will be made to me, is, that
I may have prejudices on my father’s account. I can answer this
honestly in a word: all who know me, know, that I had no such
prejudice to him himself, as blinded me to his failings, which
I have faithfully mentioned in my character of him. If more is
necessary, let me add, his friends are spared no more than his
enemies; and all the good I know of the latter I have faithfully
told. Still more; have I concealed my father’s own failings? I
can extend this defence still farther. Some of my nearest friends
are often mentioned in these Memoirs, and their failings I think
as little concealed as those of any other persons. Some whom I
have little reason to love, are the fairest characters in the
book. Indeed, if I can call myself to any account for heightening
characters, it is on the favourable side; I was so apprehensive of
being thought partial, that I was almost willing to invent a Lord
Falkland.

With more reason I can avow myself guilty of the last objection,
I apprehend, and that is, having inserted too many trifling
circumstances. Yet, as this is but the annal of a single year,
events which would die away to nothing in a large body of history,
are here material; and what was a stronger reason with me, the
least important tend to illustrate either the character of the
persons or the times. The objection will particularly have weight
against the notes; I do not doubt but some anecdotes in them will
be thought very trifling; it is plain, I thought them so myself,
by not inserting them in the body of the work. I have nothing to
say for them, but that they are trifles relating to considerable
people; and such all curious persons have ever loved to read. Are
not such trifles valued, if relating to any reign of 150 years ago?
If this book should live so long, these too may become acceptable;
if it does not, they will want no excuse. If I might, without being
thought to censure so inimitable an author, I would remark that
Voltaire, who in his _Siècle de Louis XIV_. prescribes the drawing
only the great outlines of history, is as circumstantial as any
chronicler, when he feels himself among facts and seasons that
passed under his own knowledge.

If it is any satisfaction to my readers to assist them in censuring
the Author, I may say that I have spared the most inconsiderable
person in the book as little as the demigods: obliquely it is true,
for my own character could have very little to do directly in this
Work: but I have censured very freely some measures, for which I
voted, particularly the transactions about Mr. Murray, which I
must confess were carried on with an intemperate rashness very
ill-becoming Parliament or justice. Among these measures I must
not have involved the rigorous clauses in the Mutiny Bill, or the
_præmunire_ clause in the Regency Bill, for none of which, I thank
God, I ever voted!

When I said I foresaw no other objections, let me be understood to
mean objections to faults that I might have avoided, such as want
of sincerity, partiality, &c.: I hope I have cleared myself from
them. As to the composition, I fear faults enough will appear in
it: I would excuse them too if I could: but if imputations must lie
upon my memory, let my character as a writer be the scape-goat to
bear my offences!


FOOTNOTES:

[10] Vide Preface.

[11] See the Preface to the first volume of L’Histoire de France.
Paris, 1720.

[12] As personal enmity undoubtedly operates on every man’s mind
more or less, I have, in a subsequent part of these Memoirs,
specified the persons whom I did not love, that so much may
be abated in the characters I have given of them, as are not
corroborated by facts.

[13] Vide Gen. Dict. vol. 10, p. 426.

[14] Vide Gen. Dict. vol. 10, p. 336.

[15] Vide his Examen, part i. chap. 2, p. 33.

[16] The soil the Virtues like.--POPE.




CONTENTS

OF

THE FIRST VOLUME.


             CHAPTER I.

  A. D.                                                         PAGE

  1751.  State of ministry                                         1

         King’s return to England                                  3

         Removal of Lord Harrington                             _ib._

         Transactions between Spain and the South Sea Company      6

         Proceedings in Parliament                                 8

         Affair of the Queries                                     9

         Mr. Pitt’s opposition for eight thousand seamen          12

         The Westminster Election and Petition                    13

         History of Mr. Alexander Murray                          17

         Debate on Naval Establishment                          _ib._

         Quarrel of Pitt and Hampden                              18

         Debate on Westminster Petition, and Breach of Privilege  19

         Anecdote of Speaker Onslow in 1742                       21

         Mr. Murray and Breach of Privilege                       22

         Sir William Yonge                                      _ib._


             CHAPTER II.

  1751.  Debate on Army                                           25

         Westminster Petition--Breach of Privilege                26

         Quarrel of Lord Coke and the Speaker                     28

         Murray’s Behaviour in House of Commons                   29

         Debate and Proceedings on Murray’s Contempt              30

         Murray Imprisoned                                        31

         Staff Opposed                                          _ib._

         Westminster Petitions withdrawn                          32

         Report from Murray                                     _ib._

         Petition from Gibson                                   _ib._

         Ways and Means                                         _ib._

         Sir John Cotton                                          33

         Report on Murray’s Case                                  34

         Mutiny Bill                                              35

         Lord Egmont                                              35

         Mutiny Bill                                              38

         Colonel Lyttelton                                      _ib._

         Colonel Townshend                                        39

         Colonel Conway                                           41

         Sir Henry Erskine                                      _ib._

         Charge against General Anstruther                        42

         Committee for the Suppression of Vice                    44

         General Naturalization Bill                              45

         Gin Bill                                               _ib._

         Subsidy to Bavaria                                       49

         Reformation of the Calendar                              51


             CHAPTER III.

         Petition from a Minorchese                               58

         Oswald                                                   59

         State of Parties                                         60

         Naturalization Bill                                      61

         Affairs of Nova Scotia                                   62

         South Sea Company                                        63

         Debate on Nova Scotia                                  _ib._

         Sir Henry Erskine’s Charge against General Anstruther  _ib._

         Bishop Secker                                            65

         Gin Act                                                  67

         Charge against Anstruther                                68

         Prince of Wales ill                                    _ib._

         Council held at Bedford House                          _ib._

         Gin Act                                                  70

         Death of the Prince of Wales                             72

         Conduct and Character of Frederick Prince of Wales     _ib._

         Sensation produced by his Death                          78

         On the King                                            _ib._

         On the Country                                           79

         Changes in Prince George’s Family                      _ib._

         Addresses of Condolence                                  80

         Meeting at Lord Egmont’s                                 81

         A Council                                              _ib._

         France and Germany                                     _ib._

         King and Princess Dowager                                83


             CHAPTER IV.

  1751.  Indulgence to Murray Revoked                             86

         Changes in young Prince’s Establishment                _ib._

         Bubb Doddington                                          87

         Chief Justice Willes                                     89

         Dr. Lee                                                  90

         Promotions and Resignations                              91

         Naturalization Bill                                      92

         Pitt                                                   _ib._

         Fox                                                      94

         Address of Condolence                                  _ib._

         New Appointments                                       _ib._

         Anstruther’s Affair                                      95

         Breach of Privilege                                    _ib._

         Further New Appointments                                 96

         Lord Middlesex                                         _ib._

         Duke of Cumberland                                       98

         Pelhams Espouse the Interests of Princess Dowager       104

         Resentment of Duke of Cumberland                        105

         Duties on Gin                                           106

         Anstruther’s Cause                                     _ib._

         Anstruther’s Cause dropped                              113


             CHAPTER V.

  1751.  Prince of Wales Created                                 114

         Regency Bill                                           _ib._

         Murray’s Case in the King’s Bench                       115

         Regency Bill                                            116

         William Pulteney, Lord Bath                             118

         Character of Speaker Onslow                             129

         Horace Walpole                                          140


             CHAPTER VI.

         King’s Conversation on Regency Bill                     157

         Lord Hardwick                                           158

         Pelhams determine to Remove Duke of Bedford and Lord
           Sandwich                                              161

         Duke of Newcastle                                       162

         Mr. Pelham                                              166

         Character of Lord Granville                             168

         His former Administration                               169

         His former Dismissal, and other Events of 1745          170

         History of the Resignations of 1745, and some
           Subsequent Transactions                               172

         Winnington                                              174

         Resigners Restored to Office                            175

         Character of George II.                                _ib._

         Lady Suffolk                                            177

         Duke of Grafton                                         180

         Princess Emily                                          182

         Pelhams not in Favour                                   183

         Duke of Newcastle determines to Remove his Colleagues   185

         Duke of Bedford                                         186

         Lord Sandwich                                          _ib._

         Pelhams foment Family Disputes                          188


             CHAPTER VII.

  1751.  Change of the Ministry                                  190

         Mr. Legge                                              _ib._

         Duke of Bedford has an Audience                         193

         He declines Office, but with marks of Favour           _ib._

         Further Appointments                                    194

         Lord Anson                                             _ib._

         Duke of Devonshire and Lord Hartington                  195

         Whigs Satisfied                                         196

         Lord Holderness                                         198

         Parliament Prorogued                                    200

         Murray Released                                         201

         Discovery of Lyttelton’s Letter                         202

         Foreign Affairs                                         203

         Marquis de Mirepoix                                    _ib._

         Sir Charles Hanbury Williams                            205

         Death of the Prince of Orange                           206

         Princess of Orange                                      207

         Parliament                                              208

         Debates on Privilege                                   _ib._

         Vote of Seamen                                          211

         The Duke’s Illness                                      212

         Vote of Army Estimates and Debates                      213

         Affairs of France                                       216

         Debate on Land Tax                                      218

         Death of Lord Bolingbroke                               220

         Walpole and Bolingbroke                                 225

         New Appointments                                        226

         Death of the Queen of Denmark                           227

         Cessation of Opposition                                 228

         Parallel between Walpole and Pelham                     229


             CHAPTER VIII.

  1752.  Reflections of Author on his Work                       237

         State of Parties                                        239

         Treaty with Saxony                                      240

         Parliament                                              241

         Duke of Bedford opposes the Saxon Treaty                242

         Debates in Commons on the Saxon Treaty                  243

         In Lords                                                244

         Bill for Commuting Capital Punishments dropped          256

         History of the Purchase of Scotch Forfeited Estates    _ib._

         Debates on Scotch Forfeiture Bill                       257


             CHAPTER IX.

         The Scotch Bill in Lords                                262

         Session Ended                                           275

         Character of Archibald Duke of Argyle                  _ib._

         King goes to Hanover                                    278

         History of the Factions in Ireland                     _ib._

         Divisions in the Tutorhood of the Prince of Wales       283

         Account of the Pretender’s Family and Court             284

         German Alliances unlucky                                288

         Dissensions in Prince of Wales’s Household              289

         New Governor Appointed                                  291

         Lord Waldegrave, Governor                              _ib._

         Dr. Thomas, Preceptor                                   292


             CHAPTER X.

  1753.  Debates in Parliament                                   293

         Affair of the Stoppage on the Silesian Loan             295

         Public Paper on Silesian Loan                           297

         The Pretended Memorial                                  298

         History of Lord Ravensworth and Fawcett                 303

         Debate on Nova Scotia                                   307

         Fawcett’s Testimony                                     307

         Proceedings in Lords on Fawcett’s Testimony             310


             CHAPTER XI.

         Seizure of Dr. Cameron                                  333

         King of France’s Amours                                 334

         The Marriage Bill                                       336

         Mr. C. Townshend, and Mr. H. Conway                     341

         Debates on the Marriage Bill in Lords                   346

         Dissensions caused by the Marriage Bill                 350

         Execution of Dr. Cameron                                353

         Continuation of the Troubles in Ireland                 354

         Seats in Parliament offered to Government               355

         Ireland                                                 356

         The Jew Bill                                            357

         Debates on the Jew Bill                                 358

         Ireland                                                 362

         Debate on the Proposal to Repeal the Plantation Act     364

         Irish Affairs continued                                 367

  1754.  Ireland                                                 368

         Motion to Repeal Bribery Oath                           369

         Parliament                                             _ib._

         Death of Mr. Pelham                                     370


             CHAPTER XII.

         Motives for continuing this Work                        372

         Solemnity not necessary in Memoirs                      374

         Flattery the Vice of Historians                         375

         Author’s Apprehensions for the Constitution             376

         Author’s Political Principles                           377

         Embarrassments on Death of Mr. Pelham                   378

         Agitations on choice of Successor in the Ministry       379

         Appointment and Disappointment of Mr. Fox               381

         Mr. Fox has an Audience                                 386

         Duke of Newcastle sole Minister                         387

         New Disposition of Employments                         _ib._

         New Appointments                                        388

         Sir Thomas Robinson                                    _ib._

         Affairs in Ireland                                      389

         New Parliament                                          391

         Duke of Newcastle slights Mr. Legge                    _ib._

         Origin of the War                                       392

         Remarks on America                                      395

         Spain                                                   398

         Defeat of Major Washington                              399

         Consultations on War                                    400

         Law-suit about Richmond New Park                        401

         Debates on Address                                      403

         Prince of Hesse turns <DW7>                            405

         Disturbances in the New Parliament                      406

         Elections                                              _ib._

         Debates on Election Petitions                           407

         Army Estimates                                          410

         Debates on Army Estimates                               411

         Breach between Sir George Lyttelton and Mr. Pitt        414

         State of Ministry and Parties                           417

         Projected Changes in Ministry                           418

         Fox made Cabinet-Counsellor                             420

         Debate on Mutiny Bill                                  _ib._

         Charles Townshend’s Attack on Lord Egmont               421

         Deaths of Lord Gower and Lord Albemarle                 422

                            ------
  APPENDIX                                                       427




ILLUSTRATIONS.


  VOL. I.

  GEORGE II.                                  _Frontispiece_.

  MR. PELHAM                                          p. 378


  VOL. II.

  MR. FOX                                     _Frontispiece_.

  DUKE OF BEDFORD                                        270


  VOL. III.

  MR. PITT                                    _Frontispiece_.

  DUKE OF NEWCASTLE                                      182




MEMOIRS

OF THE REIGN OF

KING GEORGE THE SECOND.


1751.

  An nescis, Mî Filî, quantillâ Prudentiâ regitur Orbis?

      _Chancellor Oxenstiern to his Son._




CHAPTER I.

  State of the Ministry at the commencement of the year 1751--The
  Duke of Newcastle disagrees with the Duke of Bedford--Lord
  Sandwich’s subserviency to the Duke of Cumberland--Mr. Pelham
  adopts his brother’s jealousies--Removal of Lord Harrington
  on the King’s return to England--Some account of his
  career--Conclusion of the Spanish war--Meeting of Parliament--Mr.
  Pitt’s recantations--Circulation of a political paper, called
  “Constitutional Queries,” brought before the notice of
  Parliament--Motion for providing eight thousand seamen--The
  Westminster Election and Petition--Speeches of Lord Trentham and
  Mr. Fox--Debate on the Naval establishment--Quarrel of Pitt and
  Hampden--Breach of privilege--Anecdote of Onslow.


It had been much expected that on the King’s return from Hanover
several changes would be made in the Ministry. The Duke of
Newcastle had, for some time before his attending the King thither,
disagreed with the other Secretary of State, the Duke of Bedford,
not only because he had brought the latter into the Ministry (his
incessant motive of jealousy,) nor from the impetuosity of the Duke
of Bedford’s temper, but from the intimate connexions that Lord
Sandwich had contracted with the Duke.[17] Lord Sandwich had been
hoisted to the head of the Admiralty by the weight of the Duke of
Bedford, into whose affection he had worked himself by intrigues,
cricket-matches, and acting plays, and whom he had almost persuaded
to resign the Seals in his favour. There had been a time when he
had almost obtained the Duke of Newcastle’s concurrence; and if
he could have balanced himself between the Duke and the Duke of
Newcastle, one may, without wronging the delicacy of his political
character, suspect that he would have dropped the Duke of Bedford’s
confidence. But a blind devotion to the Duke’s inclinations, which
he studied in all the negotiations[18] of the war and the peace,
protracting the one to flatter his command, and hurrying on the
other when no part of Flanders was left for the Duke’s army, and
himself was impatient to come over to advance his interest in the
Cabinet, this had embroiled him with the Duke of Newcastle, and
consequently cemented his old attachments.

Mr. Pelham had, according to his manner, tried to soothe where
his brother provoked, been convinced by trifles that his brother’s
jealousy was solidly grounded, adopted his resentments, and
promoted them. While the Court was at Hanover, Lord Sandwich had
drawn a great concourse of the young men of fashion to Huntingdon
races, and then carried them to Woburn to cricket-matches made
there for the entertainment of the Duke. These _dangerous_
practices opened Mr. Pelham’s eyes; and a love affair between
one of his [relations] and a younger brother[19] of the Duchess
of Bedford fixed his aversion to that family. At this period the
Duke of Richmond[20] died, who besides the Duchess and his own
dignity, loved the Duke of Newcastle--the only man who ever did.
The Pelhams immediately offered the Mastership of the Horse to the
Duke of Bedford, which he would have accepted, had they left him
the nomination of Lord Sandwich for his successor.

The King came over: but though the brothers were resolved to
disagree with their associates in the Ministry, they could not
resolve to remove them; none of the great offices were filled up
but the Lieutenancy of Ireland, from which Lord Harrington[21] was
removed in the most unworthy manner. He had raised himself from
a younger brother’s fortune to the first posts in the Government,
without either the talent of speaking in Parliament, or any
interest there. He had steered through all the difficulties of the
Court and changes of Ministry, with great dexterity, till, in the
year 1746, notwithstanding all his personal obligations to the
King, he was the first man who broke into his closet at the head
of those insulting and disloyal resignations that were calculated
and set on foot by the Pelhams, in the very heat of the rebellion,
to force their master, by a general desertion of his servants, to
abandon Lord Granville, whom he was recalling into the Ministry.
The King had brooded over this ingratitude, not with much hope of
revenging it, but as he sometimes resented such indignities enough
to mention them, the Pelhams sacrificed Lord Harrington to their
master, astonished at their complaisance, in order to bargain
for other victims on his part, which they would have forced, not
purchased, if there had been any price necessary but their own
ingratitude. Lord Harrington was removed, and the Lieutenancy of
Ireland again heaped on the Duke of Dorset, then President of the
Council.

January 10.--The South Sea Company having consented to receive
the hundred thousand pounds on the new treaty with Spain in lieu
of all their demands, thought they had a title to some favour
with the King, and accordingly came to a resolution to address
him, to be pleased to continue their Governor, and to take into
his consideration the state of the Company. To this message they
received an answer in general terms. They addressed again for one
more particular: they were told in very harsh phrase, that the King
had obtained for them from the Crown of Spain all that was possible
to be obtained.

This was the conclusion of the Spanish war; fomented (to overturn
Sir Robert Walpole) by Lord Granville, who had neglected it for
a French war; by Lord Sandwich, who made a peace that stipulated
for no one of the conditions for which it was undertaken; by Pitt,
who ridiculed and condemned his own orations for it, and who
declared for a peace on any terms; and by the Duke of Newcastle,
who betrayed all the claims of the merchants and the South Sea
Company, when he had got power, to get more power by sacrificing
them to the interests of Germany and the Electorate. As there never
was a greater bloom of virtue and patriotism than at that period,
if posterity should again see as fair a show, it will be taught to
expect as little fruit.

17th.--The Parliament met. The King acquainted the Houses with the
new treaties concluded with Spain for terminating our differences,
and with Bavaria for securing the peace of the Empire (by the
meditated election of the Archduke Joseph for King of the Romans,
was understood). The Address was moved in the House of Lords by
the Earl of Northumberland[22] and the Lord Archer; and in the
Commons by Horace Walpole[23] (son of the late Earl of Orford) and
Mr. Probyn. Lord Egmont opposed the Address, on the approbation it
gave to the treaties, and the subsidies it promised to pay, and
proposed leaving out many of the paragraphs. The House sat till
near eight; the speakers against the Address were Mr. Henley, Mr.
Bathurst, Sir John Cotton, Mr. Vyner, Mr. Martin, Mr. Doddington,
Mr. Potter, and Dr. Lee; for it, Mr. W. Pitt, Mr. Pelham, Sir J.
Barnard, General Oglethorpe, Horace Walpole senior, and Mr. Fox.
Mr. William Pitt recanted his having seconded the famous question
for the _no search_ in the last Parliament; said it was a mad and
foolish motion, and that he was since grown ten years older and
wiser: made a great panegyric on the Duke of Newcastle’s German
Negotiations of this summer, and said he was himself so far from
wishing to lessen the House of Commons, that whatever little
existence he had in this country, it was owing to the House of
Commons. These recantations of his former conduct were almost all
he had left to make. On his first promotion he had declared against
secret committees, and offered profuse incense to the manes and
friends of Sir Robert Walpole. He now exploded his own conduct in
contributing to kindle the Spanish war, and hymned that Hanoverian
adulation in the Duke of Newcastle, which he had so stigmatized
in Lord Granville. Indeed, the Duke of Newcastle had no sooner
conquered his apprehensions of crossing the sea, than he adopted
all Lord Granville’s intrepidity in negotiation. The Address was
carried by 203 to 74.

The morning the Parliament met, great numbers of treasonable papers
were dispersed by the Penny Post, and by being dropped into the
areas of houses, called “Constitutional Queries,”[24] levelled
chiefly at the Duke, whom they compared to Richard III. As it was
the great measure of the Prince’s Opposition to attack his brother,
the Jacobites bore but half the suspicion of being authors of this
libel.

On the 22nd the Duke of Marlborough[25] moved in the House of Lords
to have the Queries burnt by the hangman, which was agreed to, and
they communicated their resolution to the Commons at a conference
in the Painted Chamber. Sir John Strange, Master of the Rolls, in
a lamentable discussion, seconded by the Attorney-General, Rider,
moved to concur with the Lords. Sir Francis Dashwood, after much
disclaiming of Jacobitism, objected to the word _false_ in the
resolution, as he thought some of the charges in the Queries not
ungrounded, particularly in the complaint against alarm-posts, and
the dismission of old officers, an instance of which he quoted in
the person of his uncle, the Earl of Westmoreland, who had been
removed seventeen years before, and under the administration of
Sir Robert Walpole. General Handasyde, a blundering commander on
the Prince’s side, spoke strongly against the Queries; and Colonel
Richard Lyttelton, with a greater command of absurdity, spoke to
the same points as Sir Francis Dashwood; like him, disclaimed
Jacobitism, and wished that “even a worse punishment than burning
could be found out for the paper;” told a long story of Colonel
George Townshend’s having been refused leave to stay in Norfolk,
“though he was cultivating the Whig interest;” and an alarming
history of the Duke’s having placed two Sentinels to guard the
ruins of Haddock’s Bagnio and the Rummer Tavern at Charing-cross,
which had been burnt down; and then ran into a detail of the abuse
on the King about the Hanover troops in the year 1744, when his own
relations and friends had been at the head of the Opposition.

Mr. Pelham answered in a very fine speech, and said, he had a new
reason for condemning this paper, as he saw it already had had part
of its intended effects, in catching honest minds. Lord Egmont made
an extremely fine and artful speech, “That in general he disliked
such methods of proceeding against libels, for two reasons; that he
did not approve of Parliament taking the business of the law upon
them, and because such notice only tended to spread the libel more;
but that the present was of so evil a nature, that no censure could
be too severe, especially as it was calculated to sow division
between two brothers of the Blood Royal, where he was persuaded and
hoped there was no such thing: that if there were any grounds for
the accusations in the paper, he should choose a more proper day to
inquire into them, and would; that as to the case of the Hanover
troops,[26] he did not know why, as the same Ministry continued,
_that_ satire was left so unpunished, this so condemned; or why the
author of this was so sought after, the authors of the other so
promoted.” The resolution was agreed to, _nemine contradicente_,
and an Address presented to the King, to desire him to take
effectual means to discover the author, printers, and publishers of
the Queries, which were burnt on the 22nd.

The same day, Lord Barrington[27] moved that the number of seamen
should be but eight thousand for the present year. Nugent, Lord
Egmont, Potter, and the Opposition, declared for the old number of
ten thousand, on a supposition that the view of the Ministry was to
erect the land army into our principal force. W. Pitt, who, with
his faction, was renewing his connexions with the Prince of Wales,
as it was afterwards discovered, and impatient to be Secretary of
State, which he expected to carry, as he had his other preferments,
by storm; and the competition between him and Fox, the principal
favourite of the Duke, breaking out more and more, said (without
previously acquainting Mr. Pelham with his intention) that if the
motion had been made for ten thousand, he should have preferred the
greater number. Potter immediately moved for them, and Pitt agreed
with him. Mr. Pelham seemed to acquiesce; but when the question was
put, Lord Hartington, a favourite by descent of the old Whigs, to
show Pitt that he would not be followed by them if he deserted Mr.
Pelham, divided the House, and the eight thousand were voted by 167
to 107; only Pitt, Lyttelton, the three Grenvilles, Colonel Conway,
and eight more, going over to the minority.

On the 28th, Mr. Cooke, a pompous Jacobite, and Member for
Middlesex, presented a long petition from several of the Electors
of Westminster against Lord Trentham. This election and scrutiny
had taken up above five months of the last year. The resentment of
the Jacobites against Lord Gower for deserting their principles
had appeared in the strongest colours, on the necessity of his
son being rechosen, after being nominated into the Admiralty.
They had fomented a strong spirit against Lord Trentham, on his
declining to present a petition to the King in favour of a young
fellow[28] hanged for a riot; and on his countenancing a troop of
French players[29] in the little theatre in the Haymarket. Lord
Egmont, who was intriguing to recover his interest in Westminster,
had set up a puppet, one Sir George Vandeput; and the Pelhams were
suspected of not discouraging the opposition. On Lord Trentham’s
success, a petition had been framed in such treasonable terms, that
Mr. Cooke himself waved undertaking it, and this new one was drawn
up: Sir John Cotton opposed the party’s petitioning at all, but did
not prevail. Both Mr. Cooke and the petition severely abused the
High Bailiff (whose practice, as a lawyer, the Jacobites totally
destroyed), and who, as Mr. Cooke said, had attempted to violate
the maiden and uncorrupted city of Westminster.

Lord Trentham,[30] who had never spoken in Parliament before,
replied with great manliness and sense, and spirit, reflecting
on the rancour shown to him and his family, and asserting
that the opposition to him had been supported by perjury and
by subscriptions, so much condemned and discountenanced by the
Opposition, when raised to maintain the King on the Throne during
the last Rebellion. In answer to the censure on the High Bailiff,
he produced and read a letter from Mr. Cooke to the High Bailiff,
while he was believed in their interest, couched in the strongest
terms of approbation of his conduct and integrity. This was
received with a loud and continued shout. It was long before Mr.
Cooke could get an opportunity of replying, and longer before he
had anything to reply. He reflected on Lord Trentham’s not telling
him of this letter, and justified it. Lord Egmont talked of his
own obligations to Westminster, called Mr. Cooke’s letter honest
flattery, to encourage a man to do his duty; and said that the
opposition to Lord Trentham was the sense of the nation, expressed
against the Administration.

Mr. Fox replied with great wit and abilities, and proved that of
all men in England Lord Egmont had least obligation to Westminster,
which had rejected him at the last general election, and exposed
the doctrine of honest flattery, which was only given, when the
person it was given to was thought honest, by acting as his
flatterer desired. Mr. Fox was apt to take occasion of attacking
Lord Egmont, the champion against the Duke, and because, after Mr.
Fox had managed and carried through his contested election, Lord
Egmont had not given one vote with the Court. Mr. Cooke moved to
hear the petition that day fortnight; Lord Trentham for the morrow
se’nnight, which was agreed to. Lord Duplin then moved to call in
the High Bailiff to give the House an account how he had executed
the orders which he received last February of expediting the
scrutiny as much as possible. He came, pleaded many obstructions,
and being asked why he had not complained, said, he had feared
being taxed with putting an end to the scrutiny.

Lord Trentham then desired he might be asked, if he remembered any
threats used to him. Lord Egmont objected to the question, and the
High Bailiff was ordered to withdraw. A long debate ensued, though
Mr. Fox proposed to put the question in these less definite words,
“how he had been obstructed.” At last it was proposed that the
Speaker should decide, whether, supposing the High Bailiff accused
any person, they could be heard to their defence, consistently
with the orders of the House, before hearing the merits of the
petition. The oracle was dumb--at last being pressed, it said, “I
wish, without using many words, I could persuade gentlemen to go
upon some other matter.” Lord Trentham finding the Speaker against
him, and the Ministry and one or two of the old Whigs inclined to
give it up, gave it up with grace and propriety. But the young
Whigs, headed by Lord Coke, grew very riotous, and though the
Speaker declared still more fully against them, they divided the
House, and carried it by 204 to 106 to call in the High Bailiff,
who, returning to the bar, charged Crowle, Sir George Vandeput’s
Counsel, with triumphing in having protracted the scrutiny, and
with calling the orders of the House _brutum fulmen_. Being further
questioned, he said he had been scandalously abused; had received
papers threatening his life; had been charged with running away
to Holland; had been pursued into the vestry after declaring the
majority for Lord Trentham; had been stoned there, and that one
gentleman at the head of the mob had asked them, if nobody had
courage enough to knock the dog down, and that he ought to be
killed. Being asked who this was, he named Mr. Alexander Murray,
brother of Lord Elibank; both such active Jacobites, that if the
Pretender had succeeded, they could have produced many witnesses to
testify their zeal for him; both so cautious, that no witnesses of
actual treason could be produced by the Government against them:
the very sort of Jacobitism that has kept the cause alive, and kept
it from succeeding. Mr. Murray, with Crowle and one Gibson, an
upholsterer, were ordered to attend on the Thursday following with
the High Bailiff, to have his charge made out.

29th.--The report for the eight thousand seamen was made from the
committee, and debated again till past eight at night, when it was
agreed to by 189 to 106. Mr. W. Pitt spoke with great affectation
of concern for differing with Mr. Pelham, protested he had not
known it was his measure (which Mr. Pelham made many signs of
not allowing), and that it was his fear of Jacobitism which had
made him differ on this only point with those with whom he was
determined to lead his life. He called the fleet our standing
army, the army a little body of military spirit, so improved by
discipline, that that discipline alone was worth five thousand
men; made great panegyrics on Mr. Pelham (so did Lyttleton and
George Grenville), and concluded with saying, “I do not believe the
majority of this House like eight thousand better than ten.”

The times were changed! Men who remembered how Sir Robert Walpole’s
fears of the Pretender and his Spithead expeditions were ridiculed
by his opponents, admired Mr. Pitt’s humility and conviction, who
was erecting a new opposition on those arguments.

He was attacked by Hampden, who had every attribute of a buffoon
but cowardice, and none of the qualifications of his renowned
ancestor but courage. He drew a burlesque picture of Pitt and
Lyttleton under the titles of _Oratory_ and _Solemnity_, and
painted in the most comic colours what mischiefs rhetoric had
brought upon the nation, and what emoluments to Pitt. Pitt flamed
into a rage, and nodded menaces of highest import to Hampden, who
retorted them, undaunted, with a droll voice that was naturally
hoarse and inarticulate. Mr. Pelham interposed, and, according to
his custom, defended Pitt, who had deserted him; gave up Hampden,
who had supported him. It was not unusual for Pitt to mix the
hero with the orator; he had once blended those characters very
successfully, when, having been engaged to make up a quarrel
between his friend Hume Campbell[31] and Lord Home, in which the
former had kissed the rod, Pitt within very few days treated the
House with bullying the Scotch declaimer. On the present occasion,
the Speaker insisted on the two champions promising to proceed no
farther, with which Punch first, and then Alexander the Great,
complied.

31st.--Mr. Crowle appeared with the High Bailiff at the bar of
the House, and owned the words charged on him, but endeavoured
to prove that the protraction was meant for the benefit of his
client; and that the _brutum fulmen_ was applied to those who urged
him with the orders of the House impertinently. He showed great
deference and submission to the House. It was then debated till six
o’clock, whether any witnesses should be called in against him,
and carried by 204 to 138, that there should. Three were called,
who proved the words. Lord Hartington, (whose head being filled
with the important behaviour of the Cavendishes and Russels at
the Revolution, was determined that it should be the fault of the
times, not his, if his conduct did not always figure equally with
theirs in solemnity), moved, with a pomp of tragic tenderness, and
was seconded by Lord Coke, who abused the independent electors,
“that Mr. Crowle had wilfully protracted the scrutiny, and showed
contempt of the House.”

This was opposed;[32] the lawyers pleaded _in earnest_ for their
brother, and the Ministry were inclined to give it up, till Lord
Egmont made a furious speech for Crowle, and called the Whigs
the Rump of their old party. Mr. Fox took this up warmly in an
exceedingly fine speech of spirit and ridicule, and concluded with
telling Lord Egmont, that though he intended to have interceded
for Crowle (who had interest at Windsor, where Fox was chosen), he
must now be for this resolution; but yet should show compassion for
Mr. Crowle, if it were only on his having such a friend. The House
divided at eleven at night, and the resolution passed by 181 to
129. Lord Hartington then offered to the House to take Mr. Crowle
into custody, or to reprimand him immediately; the latter of which
was chosen for him by Mr. Fox, and he was reprimanded on his knees
by the Speaker. As he rose from the ground,[33] he wiped his knees,
and said, “it was the dirtiest house he had ever been in.”

The Whigs took pleasure in copying the precedents,[34] that had
been set them at the famous Westminster Election, in 1742; and
the Speaker had the satisfaction both times of executing the
vengeance of either party, and indulging his own dignity. On the
former occasion, his speech to the kneeling Justices was so long
and severe, that the morning it was printed, Sir Charles Hanbury
Williams complained to him of the printer’s having made a grievous
mistake--“Where?--how? I examined the proof sheet myself!” Sir
Charles replied, “in the conclusion he makes you say, _more_ might
have been said; to be sure you wrote it, _less_ might have been
said.”

The King on these votes commended the young men, and said to the
Duke of Newcastle before the Duke of Bedford, “they are not like
those puppies who are always changing their minds. Those are your
Pitts and your Grenvilles, whom you have cried up to me so much!
You know I never liked them.”

February 1.--Mr. Murray appeared at the bar of the House of
Commons, and heard the High Bailiff’s charge. He asserted his
innocence; said he should deny nothing that was true; that
much was false; smiled when he was taxed of having called Lord
Trentham and the High Bailiff rascals, and desired Counsel, which,
after a debate of two hours, was granted to him, and a respite
till the Wednesday following, upon condition of his being taken
into custody, and giving bail for his appearance. Gibson, the
upholsterer, was then brought to the bar, witnesses for and against
him heard, and the words proved, though some members[35] of the
House, who had been present at the conclusion of the scrutiny, did
not hear him speak them. Sir William Yonge moved a resolution of
his guilt, which was carried by 214 to 63, and he was committed to
Newgate.

Sir William Yonge[36] was still employed in any government
causes where the Ministry wanted to inflict punishments and
avoid odium--their method of acquiring merit! His vivacity and
parts, whatever the cause was, made him shine, and he was always
content with the lustre that accompanied fame, without thinking of
what was reflected from rewarded fame--a convenient ambition to
Ministers, who had few such disinterested combatants! Sir Robert
Walpole always said of him, “that nothing but Yonge’s character[37]
could keep down his parts, and nothing but his parts support his
character.”


FOOTNOTES:

[17] William, second son of George the Second, Commander of the
army in Flanders, and Duke of Cumberland. He was, by an affectation
of adopting French usages, called emphatically “The Duke,” during
the latter years of George the Second and the beginning of the
reign of George the Third.--E.

[18] Lord Sandwich had been Plenipotentiary at the Conference at
Breda in 1747, and concluded the Peace at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1749.

[19] Richard Levison Gower.

[20] The second son of that name, Knight of the Garter and Master
of the Horse, died Aug. 8, 1750, aged 49.

[21] Yesterday morning (Dec. 8, 1756), died at his house in the
Stable-yard, St. James’s, the Right Hon. William Stanhope, Earl of
Harrington, a General of his Majesty’s Forces, a Governor of the
Charter-house, a Fellow of the Royal Society, and one of the Lords
of his Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council.

His Lordship served in the reign of Queen Anne in Spain, being
Captain of a Company, with the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, in the
third regiment of Guards; and in the end of the year 1710 was
constituted Colonel of a regiment of Foot.

On the accession of his late Majesty he was appointed Colonel of
a regiment of Dragoons, and returned to Parliament for the town
of Derby; and in 1715 was made Colonel of a regiment of Horse. On
the 19th of August, 1717, he was appointed Envoy Extraordinary and
Plenipotentiary to the King of Spain.

November 17, 1718, he was appointed Envoy and Plenipotentiary to
the Court of Turin; from whence he returned to Paris; and, May 31,
1719, set out for the Duke of Berwick’s camp before Fontarabia.
After Admiral Byng had destroyed the greatest part of the Spanish
fleet, Colonel Stanhope procured an English squadron to fall
upon the port of St. Anthony in the Bay of Biscay, in which were
one Spanish man-of-war of seventy guns, and two of sixty, newly
built, with an incredible quantity of timber, pitch, and tar, and
other naval stores, for building more; all which were destroyed
by the English squadron, assisted by a detachment which the Duke
of Berwick spared from his army, at the solicitation of Colonel
Stanhope, who contrived the design, and, serving as a volunteer in
the enterprise, principally contributed to the execution of it;
where, finding it necessary to encourage and animate troops which
had not been used to enterprises by sea, he was the first that
leaped into the water when the boats approached the shore.

At the end of that war he was declared a Brigadier-General, and
returned with the same character as before to Spain. But the
Spaniards having laid siege to Gibraltar, he left Madrid on the
11th of March, 1726, and his late Majesty was pleased, in May,
1727, following, to appoint him Vice-Chamberlain of his Household,
and to command him to be sworn of his Privy Council.

After his present Majesty’s accession, he was nominated first
Ambassador and Plenipotentiary to the Congress at Soissons; and
September 9, 1729, declared Ambassador to the King of Spain. On
the 20th of November following, he was advanced to the degree of a
Peer of Great Britain, by the title of Lord Harrington; and on the
13th of June, 1730, was constituted principal Secretary of State.
December 18, 1735, he was declared Major-General of the Horse; and
Lieutenant-General, July 17, 1739. His Lordship resigned the Seals,
February 12, 1741-2, and the next day was declared Lord President
of the Council. February 9, 1741-2, he was raised to the dignity
of a Viscount and Earl of Great Britain, by the title of Viscount
Petersham, Earl of Harrington.

On the resignation of Earl Granville, October 18, 1744, his
Lordship was again appointed principal Secretary of State; and
in 1745 attended on his Majesty to Hanover. February 10, 1745-6,
his Lordship resigned the Seals; but his Majesty was pleased to
re-deliver them to him four days after.

November 22, 1746, his Lordship was declared Lord-Lieutenant of
Ireland, in the room of the Earl of Chesterfield, in which post he
continued until 1771. March 22, 1746-7, he was constituted General
of his Majesty’s Foot forces.

His Lordship’s rare accomplishments were such, that it is difficult
with justice to determine whether he deserved most our admiration
for his political integrity in the Cabinet, or for his military
conduct in the field; whether he excelled most as a perfectly
fine gentleman, or as a man of letters. But, without flattery, he
deserved to have it said of him--

      His life was gentle, and the elements
      So mix’d in him, that Nature might stand up,
      And say to all the world, “This was a man!”

His Lordship married Anne, daughter and heir of Colonel Edward
Griffith, one of the Clerks Comptrollers of the Green Cloth,
by Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Dr. Thomas Laurence, first
Physician to Queen Anne; and by her had two sons, twins, born
December 18, 1719; but their mother died in child-bed. Thomas, the
younger, was in August, 1741, appointed Captain in Honeywood’s
Dragoons, and going over sea, died February, 1742-3.

William, Viscount Petersham, the eldest son, succeeds his Lordship
in honour and estate; and thereby makes a vacancy in the House of
Commons for Bury St. Edmunds. [Extracted from some printed paper
of 1756, and annexed to the MS. as a note by the author of the
Memoirs.]

[22] Sir Hugh Smithson had married the Lady Elizabeth Seymour,
only surviving child of Algernon, Duke of Somerset, and heiress of
the house of Percy, on which account they were created Earl and
Countess of Northumberland.

[23] The author of these Memoirs.

[24] Vide the Appendix, B. [A.] The author of these Memoirs, in a
MS. note on Doddington’s Diary, asserts, that the Constitutional
Queries were generally ascribed to Lord Egmont.--E.

[25] Charles Spencer, Duke of Marlborough and Earl of Sunderland,
Knight of the Garter and Lord Steward.

[26] In the year 1744, besides several other libels and ballads,
had been published two pamphlets that made much noise, called
“The Case of the Hanover Troops,” and the Vindication of that
Case, supposed to be written by or under the direction of Pitt,
Lyttelton, Doddington, &c. The first was answered by old Horace
Walpole, in a pamphlet called “The Interest of Great Britain
steadily pursued.”

[27] William Barrington Shute, Viscount Barrington, one of the
Lords of the Admiralty.

[28] Bosavern Penlez, condemned for stealing linen, and demolishing
a bagnio in the Strand. Fielding wrote a pamphlet to justify the
condemnation of him.

[29] During Sir Robert Walpole’s administration, a troop of French
Players had been brought over, but the audience and populace would
not suffer them to perform. Another company came over in 1750, but
with no better success. Several young men of quality had drawn
their swords in the riot, endeavouring to support them: Lord
Trentham’s being present had been exaggerated into his being their
chief protector. French Players had been no uncommon spectacle in
England. The foundation of the late animosity against them was
this. The opposition to the Court had proceeded so far, as to be
on the point of ridiculing the King publicly on the stage of the
little theatre in the Haymarket, in a dramatic satire, called
the “Golden Rump,” written by Fielding. Sir R. Walpole, having
intelligence of this design, got the piece into his hands--[I have
in my possession the imperfect copy of this piece, as I found it
among my father’s papers after his death]--and then procured the
act to be passed for regulating the stage, by which all theatres
were suppressed but such as should be licensed by the Lord
Chamberlain. This provoked the people so much, that the French
company having a licence granted soon after, when several English
companies were cashiered, it was made a party point to silence
foreign performers.

[30] Granville Leveson Gower, eldest son of John, Earl Gower.--A.
Created Marquis of Stafford in 1786. Died, 1803.--E.

[31] Alexander Hume Campbell, brother to the Earl of Marchmont, a
very masterly speaker and able lawyer, had been Attorney-General
to the Prince of Wales, which post he resigned when his Royal
Highness erected his last Opposition, and was supposed to have a
considerable pension, on which he neglected the House of Commons,
giving himself up entirely to his profession.

[32] Nugent very absurdly told the House, “that he could not help
recollecting the epitaph on Lord Brooke, _Here lies the friend of
Sir Philip Sidney_, which he begged leave to apply, by acquainting
them that Mr. Crowle was the friend of that excellent man, Lord
Lonsdale, who then lay dying, and that he hoped they would not
disturb his death-bed by any harsh treatment of his friend.” Henry,
the last Lord Viscount Lonsdale, died soon after this. He had been
Constable of the Tower and Lord Privy Seal, which he resigned with
outgoing into Opposition. He was a man of very conscientious and
disinterested honour, a great disputant, a great refiner--no great
genius. Nugent published two or three poems on his virtues.

[33] Crowle was a noted punster. Once, on a circuit with Page, a
person asked him if the Judge was not just behind? He replied, “I
don’t know; but I am sure he never was _just_ before.”

[34] When Sir Charles Wager and Lord Sundon were declared illegally
chosen by military influence, on the prevailing of the opposition
against Sir Robert Walpole; and the Justices of Peace who had
called in the soldiers were committed at five o’clock in the
morning, the Speaker having been seventeen hours in the chair.

[35] Sir John Cotton and Sir Charles Fynte.

[36] August 10, 1755.--Sunday died at his seat at Escott, near
Honiton in Devonshire, the Right Hon. Sir William Yonge, Bart.,
LL.D., F.R.S., Knight of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath, one
of his Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council, and Lord Lieutenant
and Custos Rotulorum of Carnarvonshire. He was chosen to represent
the borough of Honiton in the sixth Parliament of Great Britain,
which was summoned to meet on the 10th of May, 1722, and served
for that borough in the five succeeding Parliaments; for though
chosen for Ashburton in the eighth, and Tiverton in the seventh and
tenth, he each time made his election for Honiton, and was five
times re-elected on his accepting places. In the present Parliament
he represented Tiverton. He was appointed to be one of the Lords
of the Treasury in March, 1724; a Lord of the Admiralty in May,
1728; again a Lord of the Treasury in May, 1730; Secretary at War
in May, 1735; and in May, 1746, joint Vice-Treasurer of Ireland. He
is succeeded in his estates and title of Baronet by his only son,
now Sir George Yonge, member for Honiton.--[From a printed paper of
1755, annexed as a note to MS. text by the author of the Memoirs.]

[37] He was vain, extravagant, and trifling: simple out of the
House, and too ready at assertions in it. His eloquence, which
was astonishing, was the more extraordinary, as it seemed to come
upon him by inspiration, for he could scarce talk common sense in
private on political subjects, on which in public he would be the
most animated speaker. Sir Robert Walpole has often, when he did
not care to enter early into the debate himself, given Yonge his
notes, as the latter has come late into the House, from which he
could speak admirably and fluently, though he had missed all the
preceding discussion. He had been kept down for some time by the
prevailing interest of General Churchill with Sir Robert Walpole,
on the following occasion. Yonge, in a poetic epistle (to which he
had great proneness, though scanty talents) addressed to Hedges,
who was supposed to be well with Mrs. Oldfield, said, speaking of
that actress in the character of Cleopatra,

      “But thou who know’st the dead and living well.”

[The dead and living Cleopatra.]--This coming to the fair one’s
knowledge, she never ceased, till she had made such a rupture
between her fond General and Yonge, as had like to have ended in
the total ruin of the latter.




CHAPTER II.

  Mr. Alexander Murray summoned to the bar of the House of Commons,
  and committed to Newgate--Sir William Yonge--Debate on the
  Army--Evidence of the witnesses against Mr. Murray, and remarks
  in Parliament upon it--Quarrel of Lord Coke and the Speaker--The
  party of the Prince of Wales--Murray’s behaviour in the House
  of Commons considered contemptuous; he is sentenced to closer
  confinement--Sir John Cotton--Report on Murray’s case--Character
  of Lord Egmont--Colonels Lyttleton, Townshend, and Conway--Sir
  Henry Erskine--Charge against General Anstruther--Vices of the
  people--Sir John Barnard--Factions--Subsidy to Bavaria--Lord
  Chesterfield’s bill for reforming the calendar; his
  character--Naturalization Bill.


February 4th.--An army of 18,850 men was proposed. Lord
Limerick[38] moved for 15,000. Ever since the defeat of Lord Bath,
he had been listed under the Prince, but for the last three or
four years had lived retired in Ireland. He had preserved a sort
of character from the impossibility of his being dismissed with
the rest of his friends, as he had secured the reversion of a
large sinecure for life, and, consequently, had less occasion to
be intriguing after new preferment. His speeches were reckoned
severe, and it was not his fault if they did not answer the
character; he meant to wound, but his genius did not carry equal
edge with his temper. Martin, a West Indian lawyer, attached to the
Prince, made a speech of great wit against standing armies, with
very new arguments. The eighteen thousand men were voted in the
committee by 240 to 117, and carried next day on the report, after
a long debate, by 175 to 75.

6th.--The High Bailiff produced eight witnesses against Mr. Murray,
who gave the strongest evidence of his menaces and seditious
behaviour. He was then heard by his Counsel, who brought the High
Constable, Carne, Mr. Gascoyne, Lord Carpenter, and Sir John
Tyrrel, to invalidate the charge. The first only proved that the
words might have been said without his hearing them; the second
confirmed the accuser’s charge in some particulars. Lord Carpenter,
with the greatest decency, gave the most unconscientious evidence;
but though he confined it to negatives, he at last contradicted
himself, and was materially contradicted by Sir John Tyrrel, a
foolish young Knight, who did not know how to reconcile his awe
of the House with the little regard he had for what he was ready
to depose. Lord Carpenter was undertaking Westminster, and having
lately succeeded to a large estate, seemed to think elections the
most equal way of restoring the sums which his father had amassed
by excessive usury. The Counsel made small defence; one of them
even made an excuse for engaging in that cause. Mr. Murray then
advanced to the bar, and said he was ashamed of nothing he was
accused of having said, but calling Lord Trentham a rogue to the
chimney-sweeper, which was below him to have done.

The High Bailiff made short, clear, and fair observations on the
evidence. Colonel Richard Lyttleton then moved a long resolution
of the proofs being full, and was seconded by Colonel George
Townshend. Sir Francis Dashwood opposed it, and would have reduced
all the proofs to immaterial words, and the probability of one of
the witnesses having mistaken the sound of a voice when he did
not see the face of the person who spoke them, though he turned
immediately and saw Mr. Murray, whose voice he had recollected.
Lord Duplin replied. Sir John Cotton reflected on the length of
the motion brought ready drawn, and complained of the House not
having paid due regard to his evidence for Gibson; and both he and
Sir Francis laid great stress on the dignity and character of Lord
Carpenter. Mr. Fox answered in one of the finest, most spirited,
and artful speeches that he ever made; set Lord Duplin’s evidence
against Cotton’s; summed up the whole charge and proofs, and
instead of ridiculing Sir John Tyrrel’s ridiculous evidence, as
less able speakers would have done, he enforced it, commented it,
and then produced it against Lord Carpenter’s. Lord Egmont made an
artful speech, W. Pitt a florid one, T. Pitt a dull one.

During the debate, the strangers in the gallery were called to,
to withdraw; the Speaker said that was his business, unless any
gentleman would move it, and then he would be obliged to him. Lord
Coke rose, moved it, and said, “Sir, I am that gentleman, and grant
your request.” The Speaker immediately ordered them to withdraw,
and said with a smile, “and, my Lord, I have obeyed your commands.”
But as soon as they were gone, he fell into a pompous passion, and
complained of Lord Coke’s repeating his words; having mistaken a
disposition to pomp in another for burlesque, which he did not
perceive was the result of the thing, and not of the intention. The
episode concluded with Lord Coke’s begging his pardon, and with his
being content to have thought himself affronted, as at all events
it had procured him submission.

Of the Prince’s people only thirteen stayed to vote; and towards
midnight, the resolution was carried by 210 to 74. It was then
moved to send Mr. Murray close prisoner to Newgate. Sir John Cotton
and others divided on the word _close_, but were only 52 to 169:
Lord Egmont and his faction had retired. The young Whigs, angry
at this second division, determined to bring Murray on his knees;
and it was proposed to Mr. Pelham in the lobby: he consented, and
it was moved by Colonel Lyttleton and Lord Coke. The Tories were
enraged, and divided again, after Mr. Dowdeswell had moved for
the Tower; but a precedent having been quoted of Middleton, the
Sheriff of Denbigh, being sent to Newgate (in times[39] that the
Whigs loved now to imitate, from the aversion they had felt to the
first example), while they were disputing on the word _close_, and
Mr. Harding had made the Clerk read the journal till it came to the
resolution of addressing the King even to take away an office from
Middleton, Mr. Fox recurred to that precedent, and said, “If the
gentlemen of North Wales, where the Middletons of Chirk Castle are
one of the most ancient families, would yield the precedence to the
Murrays, he would consent that the latter should go to the Tower.”

It being carried by 163 to 40, that he should be brought on his
knees, he was called in. He entered with an air of confidence,
composed of something between a martyr and a coxcomb. The Speaker
called out, “Your obeisances! Sir, your obeisances!”--and
then--“Sir, you must kneel.” He replied, “Sir, I beg to be excused;
I never kneel but to God.” The Speaker repeated the command with
great warmth. Murray answered, “Sir, I am sorry I cannot comply
with your request, I would in anything else.” The Speaker cried,
“Sir, I call upon you again to consider of it.” Murray answered,
“Sir, when I have committed a crime, I kneel to God for pardon; but
I know my own innocence, and cannot kneel to any body else.” The
Speaker ordered the Serjeant to take him away, and secure him. He
was going to reply; the Speaker would not suffer him. The Speaker
then made a representation to the House of his contemptuous
behaviour, and said, “However you may have differed in the debate,
I hope you will be unanimous in his punishment! Pray consider on
it; if he may with impunity behave thus, there is an end of the
dignity and power of this House!”

Sir George Oxenden said he had foreseen this refusal, and had not
voted for bringing him on his knees, and was not answerable for
the consequences--a fine consolation in their dilemma! Mr. Harding
quoted three precedents where persons, and some of them members,
had received their sentence on their knees. Mr. Pelham proposed a
committee to search for precedents how to treat him, and that they
should give their opinion upon it. Mr. Cooke went out, and tried to
persuade him to submit; but he said he would sooner cut his throat.
Mr. Fox went so far as to mention a place of confinement in the
Tower, called Little Ease; but Mr. Pelham declared against such
severe corporal punishment. Sir William Yonge proposed the closest
confinement in Newgate without being visited, (a triumph which
the Tories meditated for him,) and without pen, ink, and paper.
This opinion was afterwards taken up by Lord George Sackville, and
agreed to, though Vyner urged that he would be punished twice if
they adhered to the former sentence after his submission. Alderman
Jansen moved in vain to adjourn. W. Pitt hinted at a bill to be
passed against him if he would not comply. Admiral Vernon made such
an outrageous speech against these proceedings, desiring to have
Magna Charta referred to the committee, that he was several times
taken to order by the Speaker, Sir John Mordaunt, and Mr. Pelham,
and was on the brink of falling under the sentence of the House.
The Speaker himself proposed the question on Murray’s contempt,
which Sir John Cotton tried to prevent being inserted in the votes,
but it passed, with the order for his closer confinement; and then,
after naming the committee, the House, at near two o’clock in the
morning, adjourned over the next day.

At five in the morning, Mr. Murray was carried in a hackney-coach
strictly guarded to Newgate. He sung ballads all the way; but on
entering the gaol burst into tears, kissed the Serjeant, said he
was very ill, and must have a physician. In two days the House was
mollified, permitted him to be ill, and gave leave for his brother
to visit him with a physician and an apothecary; and in five days
more, their compassion grew so tender as to indulge him with the
company of his sister, a nurse, and his own servant.

11th.--The staff was opposed by Lord Egmont, Dr. Lee, Nugent,
Potter, and Bathurst; defended by Mr. Fox, Mr. Pelham, Sir
William Yonge, Lord George Sackville, Lord Barrington, and
General Mordaunt, and carried by 205 to 88. In the night, new
Queries[40] abusing the House of Commons for their proceedings on
the Westminster affair were dispersed at several doors, but no
notice was taken of them. The Commons were not eager to have more
prisoners to nurse!

12th.--Sir George Vandeput’s and the Westminster petitions were
withdrawn. Some of the independents had tried to prevent it; and,
at a meeting on the 9th, thirty-seven divided for going on with
them against thirty-one: but Sir George declaring he would withdraw
his, and he, Lord Carpenter, and Sir Thomas Clarges leaving the
meeting, it was agreed to drop both petitions.

13th.--Sir William Yonge acquainted the House, that the committee
of which he was chairman was ready with their report on Mr.
Murray’s case; but as the prisoner was ill, they desired to
postpone it to the following Monday. Mr. Cooke presented a petition
from Gibson the upholsterer, who had not caught the infection of
heroism from his fellow captive, but begged for enlargement, which
was granted, and he was ordered to attend on the morrow, when he
was reprimanded on his knees, and discharged.

The same day Mr. Pelham opened the Ways and Means, in which he
generally shined, and did not disgrace his master, Sir Robert
Walpole, though the latter had gathered his chief laurels from his
knowledge and perspicuity in that service. Sir John Cotton piddled
with a little opposition to the land-tax of three shillings, but
it was carried by 106 to 43, and on the report by 229 to 28. They
could not conjure up a spirited division now on the most popular
points: if they were not new, they would scarce furnish a debate.

Sir John Cotton had wit, and the faithful attendant on wit,
ill-nature, and was the greatest master of the arts of the House,
where he seldom made but short speeches, having a stammering in his
elocution, which, however, he knew how to manage with humour.[41]
In the end of Queen Anne’s reign he was in place;[42] during
Sir Robert Walpole’s administration constantly and warmly in
opposition, and was so determined a Jacobite, that though on the
late coalition he accepted a place in the Household, and held it
two years, he never gave a vote with the Court, which argued nice
distinction, not only in taking the oaths to the King (for that
all the Jacobites in Parliament do), but in taking his pay, and
yet obstructing his service: and as nice in the King’s Ministers,
who could discover the use of making a man accept a salary
without changing his party. When the Duke of Bedford, with all my
Lord Russel’s integrity of Whiggism, was involved in a Jacobite
opposition, he had been so suspicious, as to mistrust Sir John’s
principles, till my Lord Gower quieted his uneasiness by assuring
him, “Cotton is no more a Jacobite than I am.”

18th.--Sir William Yonge read the report of the committee appointed
to search for precedents on Murray’s case. It concluded with
proposing to send for him again to the bar of the House: but as
gentler counsels, and a candour that might have been equitable
before his contempt, though absurd now, prevailed, Sir William
only moved to have the report lie on the table, saying, that if
Murray should not submit this session, he should move in the
next to resume the sentence. Mr. Pelham spoke much for moderate
proceedings--more moderate indeed it would have been difficult
to pursue after the lengths themselves and Murray had gone; but
they who wanted to extort a submission from him for offences
which he had not acknowledged, were ready to release him after an
outrage which he gloried in, and had no ways atoned. Mr. Fox read
a paragraph from the Whitehall Evening Post, by which it appeared
that Murray had had the use of pen, ink, and paper, and had been
writing an apology for some part of his private conduct;[43] the
greatest part of which his future historian may be glad to colour
over with the varnish of martyrdom. Mr. Fox, on this apparent
recovery of the prisoner’s nerves, moved to order the physician
and apothecary to attend that day se’nnight with an account of Mr.
Murray’s state of health, which was agreed to.

On the 19th, 20th, and 21st, the Mutiny Bill was debated each day
for several hours. This Bill, which formerly had passed as quietly
as the Malt Act, had, for the two or three last years, constantly
afforded the longest contests. Lord Egmont[44] had gained his
greatest reputation by opposing it; and he was not a man to forget,
or to let any body else forget where his strength lay. His great
talent was indefatigable application, which he loved rather than
wanted, for his parts were strong, and manly, and quick: his heart
rather wanted improvement than his head; though when his ambition
and lust of Parliament were out of the question, he was humane,
friendly, and as good-humoured as it was possible for a man to be
who was never known to laugh; he was once indeed seen to smile,
and that was at chess. He did not dislike mirth in others, but
he seemed to adjourn his attention till he could bring back the
company to seriousness. He was personally very brave, as brave as
if he were always in the right.

His father had trained him to history and antiquities; and he early
suckled his own political genius with scribbling journals and
pamphlets. Towards the decline of Sir Robert Walpole’s power, he
had created himself a leader of the Independents, a contemptible
knot of desperate tradesmen,[45] many of them converted to
Jacobitism by being detected and fined at the Custom-house for
contraband practices. By those people he was shoved into Parliament
on the expulsion of Lord Sundon and Sir Charles Wager; but having
written that masterly pamphlet called “Faction Detected,” in
defence of Lord Bath’s political apostasy, the patron and champion
mutually lost their popularity, and nothing was openly remembered
of Lord Percival’s works, but a ridiculous history[46] of his own
family, which he had collected and printed at an immense expense.
Thus exploded, he was very willing to take sanctuary with his
leader in the House of Lords; but the Ministry did not think his
sting formidable enough to extract it by so dear an operation: how
often since has Mr. Pelham wished him laid up in ermine!

At the beginning of this Parliament, rejected by Westminster, and
countenanced nowhere, he bought the loss of an election at Weobley,
for which place, however, on a petition, Mr. Fox procured him to
be returned by Parliament, and had immediately the satisfaction
of finding him declare against the Court, declared a Lord of the
Bedchamber to the Prince, and, on the first occasion, the warmest
antagonist of the Duke and the Mutiny Bill. On Lord Trentham’s
being opposed at Westminster last year, Lord Egmont tried, by every
art and industry, to expiate his offences in the eyes of his old
electors, and was the great engine of the contest there. All the
morning he passed at the hustings; then came to the House, where
he was a principal actor; and all the evening he passed at hazard;
not to mention the hours he spent in collecting materials for
his speeches, or in furnishing them to his weekly mercenaries.
With this variety of life, he was as ignorant of the world as a
child, and knew nothing of mankind though he had acted every part
in it. But it is time to continue the history of the Mutiny Bill,
and to conclude with the conclusion of his Lordship’s memoirs of
his family and himself--“let us here leave this young nobleman
struggling for the dying liberties of his country!”

When the Duke had set himself to restore the discipline of the
army, and bring it nearer to the standard of German severity, he
found it necessary to reform the military code, that whatever
despotism he had a mind to establish might be grounded in an
appearance of law. The Secretary at War, with a few General
Officers, was ordered to revise the Mutiny Bill, and (if one may
judge by their execution of this commission) to double the rigour
of it. The penalty of death came over as often as the curses in
the Commination on Ash-Wednesday. Oaths of secrecy were imposed on
Courts Martial; and even officers on half-pay were for the future
to be subject to all the jurisdiction of military law. My Lord
Anson, who governed at the Admiralty Board, was struck with so
amiable a pattern, and would have chained down his tars to a like
oar; but it raised such a ferment in that boisterous profession,
that the Ministry were forced to drop several of the strongest
articles, to quiet the tempest that this innovation had caused.

The Mutiny Bill was likely to pass with less noise; when Colonel
Richard Lyttleton, intending mischief, though without seeing half
way into the storm he was raising, took notice of the extraordinary
novelties and severity of these modern regulations. He was a
younger brother of the pious George Lyttelton, with less appearance
of, but with not much more real integrity. He was grown a favourite
of the Prince of Wales by a forwardness of flattery that had
revolted even the Duke, at whose expense on some disobligations he
was now paying court to the elder brother.

He was seconded by Colonel George Townshend, eldest son of my Lord
Townshend, a very particular young man, who, with much oddness,
some humour, no knowledge, great fickleness, greater want of
judgment, and with still more disposition to ridicule, had once
or twice promised to make a good speaker. He was governed by his
mother, the famous Lady Townshend,[47] who having been neglected by
the Duke, after some overtures of civility to him, had dipped into
all the excess of Scotch Jacobitism, and employed all her wit and
malice, the latter of which, without any derogation to the former,
had vastly the ascendant, to propagate the Duke’s unpopularity.
The Pelhams, who were very near as ill with her, had placed their
nephew, Mr. Townshend, in the Duke’s family, to remove him from her
influence; and the Duke had softened his haughtiness as much as
possible to second their views. But my Lady Townshend’s resentments
were not at all disappointed by this notable scheme, nor by the
opportunities it gave her son of learning more of his commander’s
temper, nor by the credit it gave to any reflections on him when
authorized by, or coming directly from one of his own servants and
a supposed favourite. The Duke has often said since, that he was
never hurt but by the ingratitude[48] of Mr. Townshend and Lord
Robert Sutton, whom he had made the greatest efforts to oblige.

This attack from two officers was artfully relieved by Lord
Egmont, who had stickled so vehemently against the innovations,
that one after another they were given up, or much softened one
year after another, though not till many disagreeable instances
had been publicly produced of his Royal Highness’s arbitrary
control, and though they had been defended in a masterly manner
by Mr. Fox, Lord George Sackville, and Colonel Henry “Seymour”
Conway;[49] the latter a young officer, who having set out upon
a plan of fashionable[50] virtue, had provoked the King and Duke
by voting against the Army at the beginning of the war. He was
soon after, by the interest of a near relation of his, placed in
the Duke’s family, where he grew a chief favourite, not only by a
steady defence of military measures on all occasions, but by most
distinguished bravery in the battles of Fontenoy and Laffelt (in
the latter of which he was taken prisoner), by a very superior
understanding, and by being one of the most agreeable and solid
speakers in Parliament, to which the beauty of his person, and the
harmony of his voice, did remarkably contribute.

This year a new field was opened, during the discussion of the
Mutiny Bill, by Sir Henry Erskine, another young officer, lately
brought into Parliament by the Duke of Argyle. This man, with a
face as sanguine as the disposition of the Commander-in-Chief,
had a gentle plausibility in his manner, that was not entirely
surprising in a Scotchman, and an inclination to poetry, which he
had cultivated with little success either in his odes, or from the
patrons to whom they were dedicated; one had been addressed to the
Duke, and another to an old gentlewoman at Hanover, mother of my
Lady Yarmouth. Of late he had turned his talent to rhetoric, and
studied public speaking under the baker at the Oratorical Club[51]
in Essex-street, from whence he brought so fluent, so theatrical,
so specious, so declamatory a style and manner, as might have
transported an age and audience not accustomed to the real
eloquence and graces of Mr. Pitt.

It was on the second debate on the Mutiny Bill this year, that
Sir Harry Erskine, complaining of the exorbitant power of General
Officers on Courts Martial, instanced in his own case, and severely
abused General Anstruther, who had treated him very rigorously some
years before at Minorca. The charge was so strong, that Mr. Nugent
said, if the General (who was not present) did not appear next day
and justify himself, he would move for an inquiry into his conduct.
This was so well received, that the Secretary at War thought proper
to write to General Anstruther to acquaint him with the accusation.
He appeared the next day, and spoke some time, but with so low a
voice, and so strong a Scotch accent, that scarce ten people heard
or understood him. He said “he had undergone a long persecution
from his countrymen, who all hated him for having been the only
Scot that, on Porteous’s affair, had voted for demolishing the
Nether Bow at Edinburgh.” He produced and read an anonymous and
bitter letter wrote against him to the late Duke of Argyle, with
two letters to himself, one from the author to own the former,
and to beg his pardon for it; the other from the council of war
at Minorca to vindicate him to the General. He said he suspected
Sir Harry Erskine of having been in the conspiracy against him,
which he had not punished near so rigorously as it deserved: and he
concluded with justifying his government, where, he affirmed, he
had eased the people of all taxes imposed by former Governors.

Sir Harry Erskine, with all the false lustre of oratory, and all
the falsehood of an orator, replied in an affected gesture of
supplication; besought the House to proceed no further in this
affair; said he had forgiven all the ill-usage, had mentioned
nothing out of revenge, and now pardoned the General’s suspicions.
This justification ill-heard, and this deprecation as ill-founded,
concluded the affair for the present as awkwardly as it had been
begun. The General’s charge against his countrymen was undoubtedly
well-grounded, and that of tyranny against him, no less. Indeed,
the Scotch would have overlooked his tyranny to the Minorchese, if
they could have forgot his supporting the Government, when it was
necessary to chastise the mutinous disposition of Scotland, where
Captain Porteous had been murdered insolently and illegally by the
mob.

Anstruther had been tried before the Council for his unwarrantable
behaviour in his government a few years ago, and a heavy number
of articles proved against him; but Lord Granville defeated the
charge by calling in a Minorchese, and talking to him for an hour
in Spanish, and then assuring the Council that the witness had
fully justified the General. The secret of Erskine’s being willing
to drop his accusation was on receiving intimation that Anstruther,
if pushed, would recriminate on General St. Clair, Sir Henry’s
uncle, who, on the expedition to Port L’Orient, had used the most
violent methods to bring a Court Martial over to his opinion, and
had abused Lord John Murray, the President of it, in the grossest
terms, who, on this occasion, begged Mr. Fox to tell the King and
Duke from him, that his only reason for having taken no steps
to complain of that usage, was for fear of increasing the heats
already raised on the Mutiny Bill; but that at a proper time he
would seek some redress.

A committee had been appointed to consider on amending the laws
enacted against the vices of the lower people, which were increased
to a degree of robbery and murder beyond example. Fielding, a
favourite author of the age, had published an admirable treatise
on the laws in question, and agreed with what was observed on this
occasion, that these outrages proceeded from gin. The depopulation
of the city was ascribed to the same cause, which gave Nugent
occasion very properly to offer again his Bill of general
Naturalization, a favourite Whig point, overthrown in the Queen’s
time by the narrow ignorance of the Tories, and defeated in the
first session of this Parliament by Mr. Pelham’s complaisance for
Sir John Barnard. It was now received, and the second reading
ordered for the 20th, the day before which a petition was presented
against it from the city of London. The next day they presented
another against gin, on which old Horace Walpole attacked Sir John
Barnard on the absurdity of their remonstrating on the decrease
of people, and their making interest against replacing them by
foreigners. Nugent ridiculed him on the same topic, and made a
distinction of humour between the good citizen in his fur gown
and corporate capacity, and really wishing well in his mercantile
capacity to trade and populousness: and he observed, that even in
this enlightened age, the city of London had not got beyond the
prejudices of the reign of Harry the Third, the laws of that age
against aliens, and the reasoning of the present petition against
naturalizing foreigners being exactly the same.

Sir John Barnard was as little ready to reply to banter, as Nugent
was inferior to him in reasoning. The citizen, with the most acute
head for figures, made that sort of speaking still more unpleasant
by the paltriness of his language, as the arrogance of his honesty
clouded the merit of it. The Irishman’s style was floridly bombast;
his impudence as great as if he had been honest. Sir John’s
moroseness looked like ill-nature, and may be was so. Nugent
affected unbounded good-humour, and it was unbounded but by much
secret malice, which sometimes broke out in boisterous railing,
oftener vented itself in still-born satires. Sir John Barnard had
been attached to Lord Granville, but had been flattered from him by
Mr. Pelham. Nugent’s attachments were to Lord Granville; but all
his flattery addressed to Mr. Pelham, whom he mimicked in candour,
as he often resembled Lord Granville in ranting. Sir John Barnard
meant honestly, and preserved his disinterestedness: he would
probably have sunk in his character of a great genius, if he had
come into business with Sandys and others--as they did. Nugent[52]
* * * * had lost the reputation of a great poet, by writing works
of his own, after he had acquired fame by an ode[53] that was the
joint production[54] of several others. One would have thought
his speeches had as different an origin; sometimes nothing finer,
generally nothing more crowded with absurdities.

At this time all was faction, and splitting into little factions.
The Pelhams were ill with one another, and ill with the Bedfords.
The latter Duke would have set up Fox against Mr. Pelham; and the
former Duke[55] was countenancing Pitt against all. Mr. Pelham
supported Pitt and his clan against the Duke of Cumberland, who
was united with the Bedfords. The Prince’s Court, composed of the
refuse of every party, was divided into twenty small ones. Lord
Egmont at the head of one, Nugent of another, consisting of himself
and two more, Lady Middlesex and Doddington of a third, the chief
ornament of which was the Earl of Bute, a Scotchman, who, having no
estate, had passed his youth in studying mathematics and mechanics
in his own little island, then simples in the hedges about
Twickenham, and at five and thirty had fallen in love with his own
figure, which he produced at masquerades in becoming dresses, and
in plays which he acted in private companies with a set of his own
relations. He became a personal favourite of the Prince, and was
so lucky just now as to give up a pension to be one of the Lords
of his Bedchamber. The Jacobites had quarrelled at Oxford on the
choice of a member, and would not join with the Prince, who courted
them. Lord Granville, Lord Chesterfield, and Lord Winchelsea, were
each separately courted by the Duke of Newcastle, and Lord Oxford
by Mr. Pelham, who at the same time was making new connexions,
trying to preserve the old ones, adopting his brother’s jealousies,
and yet threatening to resign on account of them. He had once
solemnly declared in the House of Commons, that he would retire
from business as soon as the rebellion should be extinguished. When
the Duke of Grafton was told of this vow, he said, “God, I hope
my friend will see the rebellion twinkle a good while yet in the
Highlands!”

22d.--Sir Hugh Dalrymple moved for Mr. Golding (apothecary to the
Prince of Wales) to have leave to attend Murray, being used to
bleed him, which, as his veins laid low, was difficult for any
other person to do. Mr. Pelham observed on the impropriety of
this, as the doctor and apothecary were to appear on Monday. Mr.
Fox said, he had heard that they would report he was very well,
and proposed that the House should name a surgeon. It was at last
agreed that Golding should go to bleed him, but should not be
called for any account of his health.

Mr. Pelham, in the committee, opened the subsidy of forty thousand
pounds a year to be paid to Bavaria for six years, twenty by
England, and ten each by the Empress-queen and Holland. Martin
made a speech of great wit against it, Lyttleton a learned one,
and Murray, Solicitor-General, a very masterly one for it. It was
obvious that the latter, not Mr. Pelham, had been instructed in
the true secret of this negotiation by his friend Stone, secretary
to the Duke of Newcastle. They had been bred at Christ Church
together, and had tasted of the politics of Oxford as well as of
its erudition. Sir Robert Walpole, on quitting the Ministry, had
cautioned Mr. Pelham against Stone, having touched upon the scent
of some of his intrigues, as he was hunting after Jacobite cabals.
Mr. Pelham neglected the advice, as he had before rejected the
offer of having Sir Robert’s clue of secret intelligence put into
his hands. He would scarce have found either Stone’s or Murray’s
name there from this time; they were converted by their own
interest,[56] a conviction preferable to all detection. Lord Egmont
spoke ill, and owned it was rather a right than a wrong measure;
and was answered by Pitt in a good but too general a speech.
Between seven and eight the House divided, but the majority for
the subsidy appearing very great, it was given up without telling.
This treaty with some others was calculated to purchase a majority
of votes to choose the Archduke King of the Romans, but France and
Prussia defeated the scheme: our Ministry could not buy off their
opposition, as they bought off opponents at home, and they knew no
other art of baffling an enemy.

25th.--The Bavarian Subsidy was debated on the report, and carried
by 194 to 77. Then Dr. Lamont was called in and asked several
questions about Murray’s health. He said he had found him with
a cold and a fever, of which he was so well recovered this day
se’nnight, that he had since visited him only every other day; but
that going to Newgate on Saturday, he had found him with the cramp
in his stomach, to which he had been subject these seven years, and
of which his sister expected he would have died the day before:
that he thought close confinement, without riding, dangerous
for him: that he had advised him to petition the House for his
liberty, though he had heard nobody else give him the same advice;
but that Mr. Murray had replied in a passion, “he would take his
prescriptions, but not his counsel.” Sir William Yonge then moved
to restrain everybody but the Physician, Apothecary, and Nurse from
visiting him, which being opposed, particularly by Lord Egmont, who
reflected on the want of precedents, the Speaker made a warm and
solemn speech for the honour of the House, instanced in the Earl of
Shaftesbury and others, who had knelt to receive the reprimand of
the House of Lords, and said that the want of a precedent of such
behaviour as Murray’s did but conclude more strongly against him.
Sydenham, a mad High-Church zealot, taking notice of some epithets
the Speaker had used on Murray, was interrupted by him, saying, “I
called him high-spirited too; if he had been only wrong-headed, I
should have forgiven him.” The restriction was voted by 166 to 81.

The same day, Lord Chesterfield brought a Bill into the House of
Lords for reforming our Style according to the Gregorean account,
which had not yet been admitted in England, as if it were matter
of heresy to receive a Kalendar amended by a Pope. He was seconded
by Lord Macclesfield, a mathematical Lord, in a speech soon after
printed, and the Bill passed easily through both Houses. Lord
Chesterfield had made no noise since he gave up the Seals in 1748,
when he published his Apology for that resignation. It was supposed
to be drawn up by Lord Marchmont, under his direction, and was
very well written; but to my Lord Chesterfield’s great surprise,
neither his book nor his retirement produced the least consequence.
From that time he had lived at White’s, gaming, and pronouncing
witticisms among the boys of quality.

He had early in his life announced his claim to wit, and the women
believed in it. He had besides given himself out for a man of great
intrigue, with as slender pretensions; yet the women believed in
that too--one should have thought they had been more competent
judges of merit in that particular! It was not his fault if he had
not wit; nothing exceeded his efforts in that point; and though
they were far from producing the wit, they at least amply yielded
the applause he aimed at. He was so accustomed to see people laugh
at the most trifling things he said, that he would be disappointed
at finding nobody smile before they knew what he was going to say.
His speeches were fine, but as much laboured as his extempore
sayings. His writings were--everybody’s: that is, whatever came
out good was given to him, and he was too humble ever to refuse the
gift. But, besides the passive enjoyment of all good productions
in the present age, he had another art of reputation, which was,
either to disapprove the greatest authors of other times, or to
patronize and commend whatever was too bad to be ascribed to
himself. He did his admirers the justice to believe that they would
applaud upon his authority every simple book that was published,
and every bad actor that appeared upon the stage.

His first public character was Embassador to Holland, where he
courted the good opinion of that economical people by losing
immense sums at play. On his return he attached himself to Lord
Townshend, who was then breaking with Sir Robert Walpole, and
did himself no good by that connexion: but what pinned down his
disgrace, was the Queen’s seeing him one Twelfth Night, after
winning a large sum of money at hazard, cross St. James’s Court,
to deposit it with my Lady Suffolk till next morning:--the Queen
never pardoned an intimacy there. He continued in Opposition
for the remainder of Sir Robert Walpole’s Ministry, and after
the ineffectual motion in 1740 for removing that Minister, Lord
Chesterfield was dispatched to Avignon by the party to solicit,
by the Duke of Ormond’s means, an order from the Pretender to
the Jacobites, to concur roundly in any measure for Sir Robert’s
destruction: they had retired without voting on the question
abovementioned. Lord Chesterfield had accepted no employment
till the removal of Lord Granville, when he was sent again to
Holland, and then made Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and became the
most popular Governor they ever had. Nothing was cried up but his
integrity, though he would have laughed at any man who really
had any confidence in his morality: and how little he repented
his negotiations at Avignon would appear, if a story told of him
is authentic (which I do not vouch), that being at Dublin in the
height of the Rebellion, a zealous Bishop came to him one morning
before he was out of bed, and told him he had great grounds to
believe the Jacobites were going to rise. The Lord Lieutenant
coolly looked at his watch, and replied, “I fancy they are, my
Lord, for it is nine o’clock.”

He had married the Duchess of Kendal’s niece,[57] designing to
become heir to her aunt, but had not the address to succeed; yet,
miscarrying with the late King’s mistress, he was rewarded by
old Marlborough among the rest of the legatees,[58] whom she had
selected for the prejudice they had done to the Royal Family. She
was scarce cold before he returned to the King’s service. In short,
my Lord Chesterfield’s being the instrument to introduce this new
era into our computation of time will probably preserve his name in
almanacs and chronologies, when the wit that he had but laboured
too much, and the gallantry that he could scarce ever execute, will
be no more remembered.

26th, 27th.--The Mutiny Bill was finished. Sir Henry Erskine
declared he should postpone till next year the offer of several
more clauses and amendments.

28th.--The Naturalization Bill was read a second time. Petitions
for it had been presented from Bristol and Liverpool; and this
day Mr. Nugent presented another from one hundred and forty-two
very considerable Merchants of London. Mr. Sydenham desired to
have the names read, that it might appear many of them were
Foreigners. Nugent observed, that it was evident from thence that
men of all denominations were for it; and Sir William Yonge, that
Foreigners already composed a very serviceable and considerable
part of our Merchants. Sir John Barnard spoke an hour and a half
against the commitment, and then stalked away to dinner, according
to his custom, without deigning to wait for any reply. To every
body’s surprise, Mr. Pelham declared for the Bill, said he had
always approved the principle of it, but had formerly feared its
raising disturbances; but that finding no reason to apprehend
that consequence now, since our trading cities concurred in
petitioning for it; that we were daily in want of recruits for
Nova Scotia, and to repair our losses by the war; and having last
year received applications from Spitalfields for encouragement of
Foreign hands and materials, and having actually encouraged the
importation of the latter, he hoped we should, and he would now
vote for encouraging the former. On Mr. Pelham’s having formerly
offended the Whigs by opposing this scheme, the Duke of Bedford,
trusting to his adhering to the same style, had eagerly taken up
the protection of this Bill, and privately made great interest to
carry it through. Mr. Pelham discovered this, and turned short,
and carried it for the commitment. The Duke of Bedford’s faction
being thus baffled, made a shorter turn, kept away, and the Bill
was lost at last. Mr. Fox, who had formerly at Mr. Pelham’s desire
spoken against the Bill, stuck to his former vote, at the same time
showing that he approved the Bill, though he said he doubted if it
would have any effect. Pitt spoke immediately after Fox for the
Bill; and it was committed by a majority of 146 to 81, three only
of the Whigs adhering with Mr. Fox to their former vote. The House
sat till past nine.


FOOTNOTES:

[38] James Hamilton, Lord Viscount Limerick, a great friend of Lord
Bath, who had obtained the reversion of King’s Remembrancer for him
and his son on the change of the Ministry in 1742. He was created
Earl of Clanbrazil in 1756.

[39] In 1742.

[40] Vide the Appendix, C.

[41] Soon after Mr. Winnington deserted the Tories, and had made a
strong speech on the other side, Sir John Cotton was abusing him
to Sir Robert Walpole, and said, “That young dog promised that he
would always stand by us.” Sir Robert replied, “I advise my young
men never to use _always_.” “Yet,” said Cotton, stammering, “you
yourself are very apt to make use of _all--ways_.”

[42] Feb. 1752.--On Tuesday night last, died at his house in
Park-place, Sir John Hinde Cotton, Bart. He was a Commissioner
of Trade and Plantations in the reign of Queen Anne; also member
in several Parliaments in that reign for the town of Cambridge;
and in the last Parliament of his late Majesty was one of the
Knights of the Shire for the county of Cambridge; and in the two
first Parliaments called by his present Majesty served again for
the town of Cambridge; in the last and present Parliaments for
Marlborough. He was also Treasurer of the Chamber to his Majesty
in 1742. He married first a daughter of Sir Ambrose Crawley, Knt.,
and has issue one son, now Sir John Hinde Cotton, and one daughter,
married to Jacob Houblon, of Hallingbury, in Essex, Esq. He married
to his second lady, the daughter of the late James Craggs, Esq.,
one of the Commissioners of the Post-office, and relict of Samuel
Trefusis, Esq., who died August 23, 1724, by whom he had only one
daughter, who died young.

[From a printed paper annexed as a note by the author of the
Memoirs.]

[43] Mr. Murray’s very first step to preferment was by presenting
himself and being received into a commission in the Army, which had
been made out for another Alexander Murray.

[44] John Perceval, the second Earl of Egmont of that name. He was
scarce a man before he had a scheme of assembling the Jews, and
making himself their King.

[45] One of the principal Independents was Blakiston, a grocer in
the Strand, detected in smuggling, and forgiven by Sir R. Walpole;
detected again and fined largely, on which he turned patriot, and
has since risen to be an alderman of London, on the merit of that
succedaneum to money--Jacobitism.

[46] It was called the “History of the House of Yvory,” in
two large volumes. The collecting and consulting records and
genealogies, and engraving and publishing, cost him (as the Heralds
affirm) near £3000. He endeavoured afterwards to recall it, and did
suppress a great many copies.

[47] Ethelreda Harrison, wife of Charles, Lord Viscount Townshend.

[48] Mr. Townshend had quitted the Army at the end of the
last year, had connected himself with the Prince, and took
all opportunities of opposing any of the Duke’s measures, and
ridiculing him, and drawing caricatures of him and his Court, which
he did with much humour. A _bon mot_ of his was much repeated. Soon
after he had quitted the Army, he was met at a review on the parade
by Colonel Fitzwilliam, one of the Duke’s military spies, who said
to him, “How came you, Mr. Townshend, to do us this honour?--but
I suppose you only come as a spectator!” Mr. Townshend replied,
“And why may not one come hither as a _Spectator_, Sir, as well
as a _Tatler_?” Lord Robert Sutton was second son to the Duke of
Rutland, and had been preferred to the command of a favourite
regiment which the Duke had nearly instituted, before Lord Robert
was of any rank in the Army; yet he deserted him, and accepted the
place of Lord of the Bedchamber to the Prince.

[49] Honourable Henry Seymour Conway, second son of Lord Conway,
and brother of the first Earl of Hertford. Commander-in-Chief in
1782; Field-Marshal in 1793.--E.

[50] This is surely a slip of the pen; should we not read
_un_fashionable virtue?--E.

[51] This went by the name of the Robin Hood Society, and met every
Monday. Questions were proposed, and any persons might speak on
them for seven minutes; after which, the baker, who presided with a
hammer in his hand, summed up the arguments.

[52] Robert Nugent, bred a Roman Catholic, had turned Protestant,
and not long after married Mrs. Knight, sister and daughter to the
two Craggs’s.

[53] It was addressed to Lord Bath upon the author’s change of his
religion; but was universally believed to be written by Mallet,
who was tutor to Newsham, Mrs. Nugent’s son, and improved by Mr.
Pulteney himself and Lord Chesterfield.

[54] Had this ode been really his own, he would resemble the poet
Tynnichus in Plato’s Io, “who never composed any other poem worth
the mention or remembrance, besides that poem which every body
sings.”--See SYDENHAM’S TRANSLAT. p. 49.

[55] The Duke of Newcastle included in the word “Pelhams.”--E.

[56] Yet it was remarkable that Dr. Gally, the Minister of his
parish, could never get admitted to Murray, when he was collecting
subscriptions against the Rebellion, though he went several times
to his house at all hours.

[57] Melusina Schulemburgh, Countess of Walsingham.

[58] She left £20,000 to Lord Chesterfield, and £10,000 to William
Pitt.




CHAPTER III.

  General Anstruther’s Government of Minorca--Petition from a
  Minorchese--Speeches on the subject--State of parties--Affairs
  of Nova Scotia--Sir Henry Erskine’s charge against General
  Anstruther--Character of Bishop Secker--Dangerous illness of
  the Prince of Wales--Council held at Bedford House--Death of
  the Prince--His conduct and character--Sensation produced
  by his death--Changes in Prince George’s family--Addresses
  of condolence--Meeting at Lord Egmont’s--A council--German
  politics--Character of Lord Albemarle.


March 4.--George Townshend moved to have all papers relating to
Courts Martial during General Anstruther’s government of Minorca
laid before the House, and complained of his still keeping his
regiment, though he had been found guilty by the Privy Council.
Sir Harry Erskine again disclaimed revenge, but, with heaping new
aggravations, said he had still more in reserve to urge against
him; defied any retaliation on his uncle St. Clair, and affirmed
that partialities had lately been exercised towards the Scotch--not
favourable ones. Mr. Pelham replied to this; said he knew little of
military promotions, but could observe from the Newspapers, that
there were at least as many Erskines and Dalrymples preferred as of
any English name; that he disliked proceeding parliamentarily in
this business, but would engage to have Anstruther tried by a Court
Martial. Mr. Pitt gave strongly into a Parliamentary Inquiry. Mr.
Fox was as warm against it, and said that if Sir Harry Erskine had
not openly disclaimed revenge, he should have much suspected him
of harbouring the bitterest, especially as Sir Harry had too much
parts to have accused out of ignorance. He urged the impropriety
of trying a man after an Act of Grace had passed, which that he
did not mention from prejudice would appear from his having voted
at Council for condemning Anstruther. The Attorney and Solicitor
Generals spoke to the same point of Law. Fazakerely endeavoured
to show that pardons from the Crown were not pleadable against
impeachments, which were now threatened by Lord Egmont and others.
The Attorney in answer showed that the Act of Grace was the act,
not of the Crown singly, but of the whole Legislature. Colonel
Haldane, who had been one of the warmest against Murray, talked
high for inquiries, more necessary, he now said, than prosecutions
on elections. Mr. Conway temporized, proposed a middle way; the
House was going to divide, when Mr. Fox moved for some fewer papers
that would serve the purpose, and that Sir Harry Erskine might
have two days to prepare a charge in form; but desired it might be
delivered in before the papers in question were brought, that they
might not be assisting to the composition. The House sat till past
nine without dividing.

5th.--George Townshend presented a vehement petition from one Don
Juan Compagni, a Minorchese, who had been barbarously treated by
Anstruther; had had his sentences reversed by the Council here;
but having run in debt while he attended the event of his suit,
had applied without success to the Treasury for money to carry on
the prosecution: this was the scope too of the petition, though
Mr. Townshend said it was only presented to be in the eye of the
House when the other trial should come on, and moved to have it
lie upon the table. Mr. Pelham owned he had refused money from
the Treasury, and observed upon the impropriety of suffering such
petitions, as it would encourage the like from all our Governments
and Plantations: that for his part he would not oppose it, unless
somebody else did, and then he should be for rejecting it. Lord
Duplin and Harding spoke against the want of order in it, as the
accused was a member, as the petition would appear at length in the
votes, a heavy accusation! and as the money must be granted without
hearing either the cause or the defendant; or if heard, you might
find a crime, and could not find a punishment.

Mr. Pitt spoke warmly for the petition, on the fitness of granting
two or three thousand pounds to a poor man oppressed by military
law, and of so good a family as the Compagnis, (so deeply was Mr.
Pitt versed in Minorchese genealogies!) and declared he would
support such a cause to the last drop of his blood. Mr. Fox
ridiculed this warmth; observed how little foundation there was
for believing the allegations of the petition, and then said he
discovered much persecution in this affair; that good men would
join in the persecution if they thought Anstruther guilty; others
would, because he had been guilty of what he did not think bad
(the vote on Porteous’s case); and that it was Anstruther-guilt,
as much as the guilt of the Governor, that had blown up this
vengeance; and then he moved for rejecting the petition, or for
the Orders of the Day. Pitt disclaimed warmth, but with so much
coolness and endeavours to be cool, that it only proved him more
angry. Colonel Haldane defended the Scotch; Oswald still more, and
called on Fox to charge them. Mr. Fox said he scorned prudence when
it was honesty to speak out; urged the notoriety of the national
inveteracy to the General, to a degree, that a petition on a
contested election having been presented against him soon after his
vote of offence, all the Scotch members had to a man voted against
him; and said, that as he himself had been warm on the affair of
Porteous’s murder, a Scotch General Officer had told him at the
time, “young man, this will never be forgiven you.”

This pique created a constant opposition between Fox and Oswald,
a man who was master of a quickness and strength of argument, not
inferior to Fox, or any speaker in the House. The rapidity of his
eloquence was astonishing; not adorned, but confined to business.
He had come into Parliament about the time of Sir Robert Walpole’s
fall, and had consulted a friend, whether the Minister or the
Opposition were likely to prevail. His friend recommended him to
the former; his own sagacity conducted him to the latter, which
being soon after victorious, he reproached his friend with the
scrape into which he had near drawn him. On the change he was made
a Commissioner of the Navy, which he resigned on the New Place
Bill, to keep his seat; but wavering in his connexions, had no new
preferment. Mr. Conway spoke for the Orders of the Day; but asking
if the intention was to hear the cause, and Pitt telling him it
was, he then spoke and voted for the petition. Lord Egmont made a
very fine and inflammatory speech for it, and said the nation would
so much resent its being rejected, that no man who voted for the
rejection would dare to show his face. Mr. Pelham took this up,
said he would serve the King and his line faithfully, in place and
out of place too, without opposing from resentment, and then should
always dare to show his face any where. Pitt then endeavoured to
prevent a division, but was disregarded; and towards seven o’clock
it was carried by 97 to 58 for reading the Orders of the Day. Lord
Ankram, Carneguy, Hope Weir, and M’Cleod, voting in the majority,
and no English Whigs but Pitt, Conway, and the three Grenvilles in
the minority. When the House was up, Pitt, in a dispute with Mr.
Pelham, defended parliamentary inquiries, and said, “he would never
consent to lop the bough on which he stood.”

The King asked Mr. Fox “with whom it was that Pitt meant to
ingratiate himself? was it with Lord Egmont?” and he told the Duke
of Bedford that he would not, even if addressed by the House, take
away Anstruther’s regiment, who had got his favour by the vote that
had so much offended his countrymen. The General, after that vote,
had been obliged on his return to Scotland, to pass in disguise
to his own estate, and crossing a firth, he said to the waterman,
“This is a pretty boat; I fancy you sometimes smuggle with it.” The
fellow replied, “I never smuggled a Brigadier before.”

Pitt’s behaviour, who at this time had the chief influence with
the Duke of Newcastle, had extremely offended both the King and
the Whigs. The tide of popularity was running with the Duke of
Bedford and Mr. Fox; and without the great event[59] that soon
after happened, possibly the charm might have been broken, that
held a whole nation enchanted to such phantoms, either of honesty
or abilities as the two Pelhams.

The 7th was appointed for the Naturalization Bill, but the House
adjourned to attend at Drury-lane, where Othello was acted by a Mr.
Delaval and his family, who had hired the theatre on purpose. The
crowd of people of fashion was so great, that the Footman’s Gallery
was hung with blue ribbands.

8th.--The Bill was read in the Committee. Mr. Fox spoke against
it, but said he was open to conviction. Mr. Pelham mentioned the
forfeited estates in Scotland, which might be improved by a colony
of Foreigners. Mr. Fox declared himself convinced by this argument.
Pitt ridiculed Fox’s conviction, and did it well. The Bill was
carried in the Committee by 123 to 52. While Pitt was speaking, Fox
said to one who sat next to him, “He is a better speaker than I am;
but, thank God, I have more judgment!”

Lord Halifax had been soliciting to have a fifty and a sixty gun
ship sent to Nova-Scotia, upon a report that the French were
sending a fleet thither: the Admiralty had refused, for fear of
drawing on a new war. The Board of Trade presented a long Memorial
to promote their demand, which the Duke of Bedford carried to the
King; the Duke of Newcastle was present, but said not a word. The
Duke of Bedford said to the King, “Sir, this paper is too long for
your Majesty to read, but I will tell you the purport of it: it is
a project of the same faction, who have endeavoured to increase the
Navy this year: I have desired your Majesty’s servants to meet at
my House next Wednesday; I believe they will not think it proper
to come into this proposal.” “No,” replied the King, “they are the
most troublesome, impracticable fellows I ever met with; there is
no carrying on the measures of Government with them.” Mr. Pelham
wrote the Duke of Bedford word, on his summons, that he would wait
upon him, but did not believe[60] he should think Lord Halifax’s
proposal fit to be complied with.

11th.--A proposal came from the South Sea Company for lowering
their interest after a term of seven years. Mr. Pelham moved
to accept it, provided they gave up all demands on the King of
Spain. Belchier desired time till the next General Court; but the
resolution passed.

Lord Duplin[61], who, considering how fond he was of forms and
trifles and being busy, was not absolutely a bad speaker, opened in
a long deduction the affairs of Nova-Scotia, and moved for a sum of
money for carrying on that new Colony, the establishment of which
had been eagerly revived by Lord Halifax on his coming to the head
of the Board of Trade, and his friend Colonel Cornwallis[62], sent
thither as Governor, who was a brave, sensible young man, and of
great temper and good-nature. Vyner alone opposed the Motion; the
Opposition favoured it, and Th. Pitt spoke much against ever giving
up that Colony to France.

Sir Henry Erskine then presented his charge against General
Anstruther, which he called only a state of his own case. It was
very trifling in comparison of what had been expected from the
parade of his first accusation; his grievances barely comprized
in a confinement of six weeks before and during his trial, and of
a few days after it. George Townshend moved to address for the
proceedings of that Court-Martial. Mr. Pitt desired there might be
no Motion till the House came to some determination how to proceed.
Mr. Fox read a letter from Anstruther, to say that he was laid up
with the rheumatism, but would attend as soon as possible, and
would send in an answer to the charge. It was agreed to send him
a copy of what they were in doubt whether to call a charge, or a
complaint, or simply a paper. Mr. Fox called upon Erskine to prove
the accusation, which he said he was ready to do. Fox then said,
that General Anstruther desired to inform the House that he had the
copy of the Court-Martial in his own possession, and would send
it whenever they pleased; though it was not necessary to preserve
sentences of acquittals, nor were they ever sent to the War-office.
Notwithstanding this voluntary offer, the House sat debating for
two hours on the method of coming at this copy, and whether they
should address the King, or order Anstruther to send it by their
own authority. Joddrell, the Prince’s Solicitor, flamed, and Lord
Egmont still more, on this notice of records of Courts-Martial not
being preserved. The House sat till eight, but came to no division.

10th.--The King would not go to Chapel, because Secker, Bishop
of Oxford, was to preach before him. The Ministers did not insist
upon his hearing the sermon, as they had lately upon his making
him Dean of St. Paul’s. Character and popularity do not always
depend upon the circumstances that ought to compose either. This
Bishop, who had been bred a Presbyterian and Man-midwife, which
sect and profession he had dropt for a season, while he was
President of a very free thinking club,[63] had been converted by
Bishop Talbot,[64] whose relation he married, and his faith settled
in a Prebend of Durham: from thence he was transplanted, at the
recommendation of Dr. Bland,[65] by the Queen, and advanced by her
[who had no aversion to a medley of religions, which she always
compounded into a scheme of heresy of her own], to the living
of St. James’s, vacant by the death of her favourite Arian, Dr.
Clarke, and afterwards to the Bishoprics of Bristol and Oxford.[66]
It is incredible how popular he grew in his parish, and how much
some of his former qualifications contributed to heighten his
present doctrines. His discourses from the pulpit, which, by a
fashion that he introduced, were a kind of moral essays, were
as clear from quotations of Scripture, as when he presided in a
less Christian society; but what they wanted of Gospel, was made
up by a tone of fanaticism that he still retained. He had made a
match between a daughter of the late Duke of Kent[67] and a Doctor
Gregory, whose talents would have been extremely thrown away in
any priesthood, where celibacy was one of the injunctions. He
had been presented with a noble service of plate for procuring
a marriage between the heiress[68] of the same Duke of Kent and
the Chancellor’s son, and was now forced upon the King[69] by the
gratitude of the same Minister, though he had long been in disgrace
for having laid his plan for Canterbury in the interest he had
cultivated at the Prince’s Court. But even the Church had its
renegades in politics, and the King was obliged to fling open his
asylum to all kind of deserters; content with not speaking to them
at his levee, or listening to them in the pulpit!

12th.--Potter produced several Physicians and Masters of Workhouses
to prove the fatal consequences of spirituous liquors, which laid
waste the meaner parts of the town, and were now spreading into
the country. Sir Joseph Jekyll had formerly carried through a
Bill against Gin, but with such danger from the populace, that
the Act had been established merely by military force, and with
little success, as informers against the retailers of it had seldom
escaped the vengeance of the mob. Mr. Sandys,[70] on succeeding Sir
Robert Walpole, had repealed this Act to increase the Revenue; but
being one of the acts of his short reign, to which he had risen by
deserting his party, he was as ill-treated by the faction as the
prohibition had been by the lower people. Lord Hervey,[71] who had
turned patriot at that season on being turned out of place, had
made three remarkably fine orations against the repeal; and Sir
Charles Williams had made a couple of ballads[72] with much wit, to
ridicule both Sandys and Lord Hervey. Mr. Pelham spoke now against
the appearance of the Physicians, &c. as he believed no remedy
could be found for the evil, and yet imposing new duties would
greatly diminish the Revenue: but they were examined.

18th.--Mr. Fox acquainted the House that Mr. Moncrief attended
without, who was called in, and delivered the original copy of the
Court-Martial from General Anstruther; and (as he was not able to
come in person, being above seventy, and laid up with a rheumatism
and pain in his bowels) an answer to Sir Henry Erskine’s complaint,
in which he acknowledged the facts, but denied the aggravating
circumstances. That day se’nnight was appointed to consider the
charge and answer, and the Minutes of the Council; after Sir Harry
Erskine had declared he would say no more, though if he chanced to
prove more, it would be but the more conspicuous: to which Mr. Fox
replied, that it would be fairer to acquaint Anstruther with that
_more_. Mr. Fox then moved, at Anstruther’s desire, for a copy of
a Resolution of Council against Colonel Pinfold, a former Governor
of Minorca, who had been condemned to make satisfaction to the
oppressed parties, and had. Anstruther would have done the like,
but was prevented.

The Prince was dangerously ill.

19th.--The Council, which had been postponed, was held at
Bedford-house, whither the Duke of Newcastle would have carried
Lord Halifax and Lord Anson, but the Duke of Bedford refused to
admit them. It was proposed to hear the whole Board of Trade upon
their Memorial; but the Duke of Bedford said, that this proposal
of stationing two men of war at Nova Scotia, upon the notion of a
French fleet going thither, had not been mentioned in a long letter
that he had received from that Board in January last, since which
period there had been no letters from Governor Cornwallis. Nobody
agreed with the Duke but Lord Sandwich, not even his father-in-law,
Lord Gower, who had been with him an hour before the rest arrived,
and said to him, “Now we have caught Lord Halifax in a trap;”
(but he himself was intangled in Mr. Pelham’s snares, and did
not know it!) nor the Duke of Marlborough, though his friend and
brother-in-law, and though his connexion with Mr. Fox had made the
Duke of Bedford flatter himself with his support: but both the Duke
and Lord Sandwich were too sanguine about Mr. Fox, who had declared
to them, that if it came to a rupture, he must adhere to Mr.
Pelham. He had repeated this to Lord Sandwich in the summer, when
commissioned by him to carry a reconciling message to Mr. Pelham.
Mr. Fox had made the same declaration of his unavoidable connexion
with Mr. Pelham to the Duke of Cumberland: but the Duke of Bedford
was not only apt to forget what he did not care to hear, and even
to forget his own change of opinion, but would and did often
believe the very reverse. He told the two brothers that this was
designed as a hostile measure against him, which they then denied.

20th.--Potter[73] opened in an able manner his scheme for an
additional duty of two shillings on spirits, to be collected by way
of Excise. He was a young man of the greatest goodnature, though
he had set out with two of the severest speeches[74] that ever
were made against the Ministry and the Grenvilles, and with the
greatest applause; but his goodnature had kept up to its character
much more than his parts. He was not bashful nor void of vanity,
and had now flattered himself that he should figure like Sir Robert
Walpole by attempting to re-establish the defeated Excise Scheme;
not reflecting that the opposition to that project was levelled
at the Minister, not occasioned by the pretended inconveniences
and dangers of it. Mr. Pelham spoke greatly against it, and for
suppressing unlicensed houses, and for a visitation by parish
officers. He was seconded by the Solicitor General. Alderman Baker,
a man rather busy and confident than very able, fluctuated between
both schemes: but Mr. Pelham desiring a respite till the morrow
se’nnight for further deliberation, it was agreed to.

The Prince of Wales had been ill of a pleurisy, but was so well
recovered as to attend the King to the House of Lords on the 12th,
where he was very hot. He went to Carlton-house to unrobe, put on
only a light frock, and went to Kew, where he walked some time,
and returning to Carlton-house, laid down upon a couch for three
hours in a ground room next to the garden, caught a fresh cold,
and relapsed that night. He had had a blow upon his stomach in the
summer by a fall, from which he had often felt great pains. Dr.
Wilmot, Taylor, and Leigh attended him, and Hawkins the Surgeon. On
Monday, 18th, a thrush appeared; however, he was thought better. On
Wednesday night, between nine and ten o’clock, Wilmot and Hawkins
were with him; he had a fit of coughing. Wilmot said, “Sir, you
have brought up all the phlegm; I hope this will be over in a
quarter of an hour, and that your Royal Highness will have a good
night.” Hawkins went out of the room, and said, “Here is something
I don’t like.” The cough continued; the Prince laid his hand upon
his stomach, and said, “_Je sens la mort_.” Pavonarius, his
favourite German valet-de-chambre, who was holding him up, felt him
shiver, and cried, “Good God! the Prince is going!” The Princess,
who was at the feet of the bed, snatched up a candle, but before
she got to him, he was dead! An imposthume had broken, which, on
his body being opened, the Physicians were of opinion had not been
occasioned by the fall, but from a blow of a tennis-ball three
years before.

Thus died Frederick Prince of Wales! having resembled his pattern
the Black Prince in nothing but in dying before his father. Indeed
it was not his fault if he had not distinguished himself by any
warlike achievements. He had solicited the command of the Army
in Scotland during the last Rebellion; though that ambition was
ascribed rather to his jealousy of his brother than to his courage.
A hard judgment! for what he could he did! When the Royal Army lay
before Carlisle, the Prince, at a great supper that he gave to
his Court and his favourites, as was his custom when the Princess
laid in, had ordered for the dessert the representation of the
citadel of Carlisle in paste, which he in person, and the Maids
of Honour, bombarded with sugar plums! He had disagreed with the
King and Queen early after his coming to England; not entirely by
his own fault. The King had refused to pay what debts he had left
at Hanover; and it ran a little in the blood of the family to hate
the eldest son: the Prince himself had so far not degenerated,
though a better natured man, and a much better father, as to be
fondest of his second son, Prince Edward. The Queen had exerted
more authority, joined to a narrow prying into his conduct, than he
liked; and Princess Emily, who had been admitted into his greatest
confidence, had not forfeited her duty to the Queen by concealing
any of his secrets that might do him prejudice.

Lord Bolingbroke, who had sowed a division in the Pretender’s
Court, by the scheme for the father’s resigning his claim to the
eldest boy, repeated the same plan of discord here, on the first
notice of the Prince’s disgusts; and the whole Opposition was
instructed to offer their services to the Heir Apparent against
the Crown and the Minister. The Prince was sensible to flattery,
and had a sort of parts that made him relish the sort of parts
of Lord Chesterfield, Doddington, and Lyttelton, the latter of
whom being introduced by Doddington, had wrought the disgrace
of his protector. Whoever was unwelcome at St. James’s was sure
of countenance at the Prince’s apartments there. He was in vain
reprimanded for this want of respect. At last, having hurried the
Princess from Hampton Court, when she was in actual labour, to
the imminent danger of hers and the child’s life,[75] without
acquainting either King or Queen, the formal breach ensued; he
having added to this insult, a total silence to his mother on her
arriving immediately to visit the Princess, and while he led her
to her coach; but as soon as he came in sight of the populace, he
knelt down in the dirt and kissed her hand with the most respectful
show of duty. He immediately went all lengths of opposition and
popularity till the fall of Sir Robert Walpole, when he was
reconciled to, though never after spoken to, by the King.

On Lord Granville’s disgrace, he again grew out of humour; but
after having been betrayed and deserted by all he had obliged, he
did not erect a new standard of opposition, till the Pelhams had
bought off every man of any genius that might have promoted his
views. Indeed, his attachment to his followers was not stronger
than theirs to him. Being angry with Lord Doneraile[76] for not
speaking oftener in the House of Commons, he said, “Does he think
I will support him, unless he does as I would have him? Does not he
consider that whoever are my Ministers, I must be King?” His chief
passion was women, but like the rest of his race, beauty was not
a necessary ingredient. Miss ****, whom he had debauched without
loving, and who had been debauched without loving him so well as
either Lord Harrington or Lord Hervey, who both pretended to her
first favours, had no other charms than of being a Maid of Honour,
who was willing to cease to be so upon the first opportunity.

One of his favourites, Lady Archibald Hamilton[77] had been
neither young nor handsome within his memory. Lady Middlesex[78]
was very short, very plain, and very yellow: a vain girl, full of
Greek and Latin, and music, and painting, but neither mischievous
nor political. Lady Archibald was very agreeable and artful, but
had lost his heart, by giving him William Pitt for a rival. But
though these mistresses were pretty much declared, he was a good
husband, and the quiet inoffensive good sense of the Princess (who
had never said a foolish thing, or done a disobliging one since her
arrival, though in very difficult situations, young, uninstructed,
and besieged by the Queen, Princess Emily, and Lady Archibald’s
creatures, and very jarring interests), was likely to have always
preserved a chief ascendant over him.

Gaming was another of his passions, but his style of play did him
less honour than the amusement. He carried this dexterity[79] into
practice in more essential commerce, and was vain of it! One day
at Kensington that he had just borrowed five thousand pounds of
Doddington, seeing him pass under his window, he said to Hedges[80]
his Secretary, “That man is reckoned one of the most sensible men
in England, yet with all his parts, I have just nicked him out
of five thousand pounds.” He was really childish, affectedly a
protector of arts and sciences, fond of displaying what he knew:
a mimic, the Lord knows what a mimic!--of the celebrated Duke of
Orleans, in imitation of whom he wrote two or three silly French
songs.[81] His best quality was generosity; his worst, insincerity,
and indifference to truth, which appeared so early, that Earl
Stanhope wrote to Lord Sunderland from Hanover, what I shall
conclude his character with, “He has his father’s head, and his
mother’s heart.”

The Princess staid four hours in the room after he was dead, before
she could be quite convinced of it. At six in the morning they put
her to bed; but she rose again at eight, and sent for Dr. Lee,
and burnt, or said she burnt, all the Prince’s papers. As soon as
he was dead, Lord North was sent to notify it to the King, who
was playing at cards. He immediately went down to Lady Yarmouth,
looking extremely pale and shocked, and only said, “_Il est mort!_”
He sent a very kind message to the Princess, and another the
next morning in writing by the Lord in Waiting, Lord Lincoln. She
received him alone, sitting with her eyes fixed; thanked the King
much, and said she would write as soon as she was able; in the
meantime, recommended her miserable self and children to him.

The King and she both took their parts at once; she, of flinging
herself entirely into his hands, and studying nothing but his
pleasure, but with winding what interest she got with him to the
advantage of her own and the Prince’s friends: the King of acting
the tender grandfather; which he, who had never acted the tender
father, grew so pleased with representing, that he soon became
it in earnest. When he was called the morning after the Prince’s
death, they found him drest, walking about his room, and extremely
silent. Princess Emily, who had no great reason to flatter herself
with much favour if her brother had lived to be King, sent
immediately for the Duke from Windsor, who, on receiving the news,
said to Lord Sandwich with a sneer, “It is a great blow to this
country, but I hope it will recover it in time!” He little thought
that himself was to receive the greatest shock from it! He sent a
compliment by Lord Cathcart to Prince George, who cried extremely.
As soon as the Prince’s death was published, elegies were cried
about the streets, to which they added, “Oh, that it was but his
brother!”[82] and upon Change and in the city, “Oh, that it was
but the butcher!”[83] In short, the consternation that spread on
the apprehensions that the Duke would at least be Regent on the
King’s death, and have the sole power in the mean time, was near as
strong as what was occasioned by the notice of the Rebels being at
Derby.

The Houses met the next morning, but adjourned without doing any
thing.

The Duke of Bedford proposed to the King to remove Dr. Ayscough
from the young Princes, which he much approved, and nobody but
the Cobham cousins[84] disliked, who had just patched up their
peace with the Prince by his intervention. Lyttelton, whose sister
he had married, solicited Mr. Pelham to save him. Mr. Pelham
answered, “I know nothing of Dr. Ayscough--oh, yes, I recollect,
a very worthy man told me in this room two years ago that he was
a great rogue!” It was Lyttelton himself who had quarrelled with
him about an election business. Ayscough, who was an insolent man,
unwelcome to the Clergy on suspicions of heterodoxy, and of no fair
reputation for integrity, had been placed by Lyttelton and Pitt
with the Prince, into whose favour he had worked himself, chiefly
by partialities to Prince Edward; and managed his Privy Purse and
his election affairs. The Princess, finding that Prince George,
at eleven years old, could not read English, though Ayscough,
to make amends, assured her he could make Latin verses, had
already introduced a new Preceptor, one Scot, recommended by Lord
Bolingbroke, who had lately seen the Prince two or three times in
private.

22d.--The King sent a Commission to pass the Mutiny Bill. Lord
Egremont in the House of Lords, and Lord Hilsborough in the
Commons, moved the Address of Condolence; and then the Lords
adjourned to Wednesday, and the Commons till Monday. Lord Egremont,
who was son to the great Sir William Windham, and grandson to the
old Duke of Somerset, whose prodigious pride he inherited, more
than his father’s abilities, though he had a great deal of humour,
had formerly been a personal favourite with the Prince, but had
slighted that intimacy when Lord Granville his patron would not
co-operate in the Prince’s last Opposition.

Lord Hilsborough was a young man of great honour and merit,
remarkably nice in weighing whatever cause he was to vote in, and
excellent at setting off his reasons, if the affair was at all
tragic, by a solemnity in his voice and manner that made much
impression on his hearers.

At seven o’clock of the very morning after the Prince expired,
Lord Egmont sent cards to several of the Opposition, desiring
them to meet at his house, to consult on the measures proper for
them to take on the present conjuncture. Many of them came. He did
not make any formal oration, but whispered most of them something
about taking upon themselves the protection of the Princess and
her children. The meeting passed in a sort of dumb confusion and
uncertainty, and broke up without taking any measures at all.

An Order of Council was made to omit the name of the Prince of
Wales in the prayers. As no rank was yet given to Prince George, it
created murmurs. Though the House sat, nothing was done but private
business. On the 26th, Colonel Haldane moved, as the Prince’s
servants did not yet attend the House, that Anstruther’s affair
might be postponed till after Easter, which was agreed to, though
the General was present, and earnest to have it heard sooner.

28th.--A Council was held at the Cockpit, on the Nova-Scotia
affair. They divided: the Chancellor, Mr. Pelham, the Dukes of
Newcastle, Grafton, Dorset, and Argyle, were for complying with
the request of the Board of Trade; the Duke of Bedford and Lord
Sandwich, who had now got the Duke of Marlborough and Lord Gower on
their side, against it.

The German politics went ill. What Allies we had there wanted more
money. The Elector of Cologne, who had signed a treaty with the
King, refused to execute it, and united with France. That Court
used continual evasions with us, on the evacuation of Tobago,
and the contested islands in the West Indies, and gave great
disturbance to our Colony of Nova-Scotia. In the east, they were
driving us out of our Settlements; and upon the coast of Africa
seizing our forts, raising others, inveigling away our Allies, and
working us out of our whole <DW64> and Gold-Coast trade. The British
Minister at Paris, Lord Albemarle,[85] was not a man to offend the
haughtiness of that Court, or the pusillanimity of his own, by
mixing more sturdiness with his Memorials than he was commissioned
to do. It was convenient to him to be anywhere but in England:
his debts were excessive, though he was Embassador, Groom of the
Stole, Governor of Virginia, and Colonel of a regiment of Guards.
His figure was genteel, his manner noble and agreeable: the rest
of his merit, for he had not even an estate, was the interest my
Lady Albemarle had with the King through Lady Yarmouth, and his
son, Lord Bury, being the Duke’s chief favourite. He had all his
life imitated the French manners, till he came to Paris, where he
never conversed with a Frenchman; not from partiality to his own
countrymen, for he conversed as little with them, living entirely
with a Flemish Columbine, that he had brought from the Army. If
good breeding is not different from good sense, Lord Albemarle,
who might have disputed even that maxim, at least knew how to
distinguish it from good nature. He would bow to his postilion,
while he was ruining his tailor.

31st.--The King went to see the Princess. A chair of state was
placed for him, but he refused it, and sat by her on the couch,
embraced, and wept with her. He would not suffer the Lady Augusta
to kiss his hand, but embraced her, and gave it to her brothers,
and told them, “They must be brave boys, obedient to their mother,
and deserve the fortune to which they were born.”


FOOTNOTES:

[59] The death of the Prince.

[60] Yet, as it will appear afterwards, Mr. Pelham supported the
demand of the Board of Trade against the Duke of Bedford.

[61] Thomas Hay, eldest son of George, Earl of Kinnoul, one of the
Lords of Trade.

[62] Edward, brother to Lord Cornwallis, and Groom of the
Bedchamber to the King.

[63] Here is my evidence. Mr. Robyns said he had known him
an atheist, and had advised him against talking so openly in
coffee-houses. Mr. Stevens, a Mathematician, who lives much in
the house with Earl Powlett, says, Secker made him an atheist at
Leyden, where the club was established.

[64] Bishop of Durham, father to Lord Chancellor Talbot.

[65] Dr. Henry Bland, Dean of Durham and Provost of Eton, a great
favourite of Sir Robert Walpole.

[66] He was nominated to the Archbishopric of Canterbury, March 28,
1758.

[67] Lady Mary Grey.

[68] Annabella, daughter of the Lord Glenorchy, by the eldest
daughter of Henry, the last Duke of Kent. On this match with the
Chancellor’s son, she was created Marchioness de Grey.

[69] He was made Dean of St. Paul’s by the Chancellor’s interest
about this time.

[70] Samuel Sandys, a republican opposer of the Court, was made
Chancellor of the Exchequer, in the room of Sir Robert Walpole, in
1742, but was turned out in less than two years, and made Cofferer
and a Baron, and entirely laid aside on the disgrace of Lord
Granville.

[71] John, Lord Hervey, eldest son to the Earl of Bristol, was
removed from the post of Lord Privy Seal, to make way for Lord
Gower, in 1742, and took the place in Opposition which Lord Gower
had left.

[72] One of them was printed; the subject, Jekyll’s Ghost appearing
to Sandys, in imitation of William and Margaret: the other was the
same Ghost appearing to Lord Hervey.

[73] Thomas Potter, second son to the late Archbishop of
Canterbury, and Secretary to the Princess of Wales.

On Sunday, June 17, 1759, died Thomas Potter, Esq., joint
Vice-Treasurer of Ireland, Principal Registrar of the province of
Canterbury, Recorder of the city of Bath, and member in the present
Parliament for Okehampton in Devonshire.--(Public Journals.)

[74] The first was on a petition for setting aside Mr. W. Pitt’s
election at Seaforth, where the Duke of Newcastle had appeared
at the poll, contrary to the resolution of the House of Commons
against Peers interfering in elections. It was printed in the
London Magazine, and old Horace Walpole published a letter to him
upon it. The other speech was on the famous bill for removing the
Assizes from Aylesbury to Buckingham, on a contest between the
Lord Chief Justice Willes and the Grenvilles. Potter talking upon
his plan for suppressing Gin, told a near relation of Sir Robert
Walpole, that he would imitate that Minister, and expose himself to
all the unpopularity of the Excise Scheme. When Mr. Fox was told
of this speech, he said it put him in mind of Sir Godfrey Kneller,
who, when his gardener was cursing himself, said to him, “God d--n
_you_! God d--ns Kings and Princes and great men; God no d--n such
poor fellows as you.”

[75] It was (Lady Augusta) the eldest, “afterwards Duchess of
Brunswick.” As it was necessary to have the Privy Councillors
present at the birth of an Heir-Apparent to the Crown, which was
prevented by this rash step, the Prince sent messengers, as he was
upon the road, to Chiswick and Lambeth, to fetch Lord Wilmington
and the Archbishop of Canterbury; but they arrived too late. The
Princess was put into a bed that had not been prepared, for which
the Prince and Lady Archibald Hamilton were forced to air the
sheets. The Queen followed them early in the morning, and asked
Lady Archibald, “how she dared to bring away the Princess in that
manner?” who turned to the Prince, and said, “You see, Sir, I told
you it would be laid upon me.”

[76] Arthur St. Leger, Lord Viscount Doneraile, Lord of the
Bedchamber to the Prince, died of a consumption at Lisbon in 1750.
He was a young man of great parts, but of no steadiness in courage,
conduct, or principles. He made a celebrated speech against the
Pelhams, on the affair of the sixteen new regiments that were to
be raised by some Noblemen during the Rebellion. These Lords had
offered to raise them at their own expense, but made a notorious
job of it, at the same time that the Earl of Kildare, who really
meant it, was not permitted, as Lord Doneraile by his authority
acquainted the House of Commons, and concluded with saying, that
“the Ministry were either too weak to do a right thing, or too
good-natured to refuse a wrong one.”

[77] Jane, daughter to Lord Abercorn, and wife of Lord Archibald
Hamilton, was Mistress of the Robes to the Princess of Wales, and
for some years governed absolutely at the Prince’s Court. She
had contrived to have the Princess told, before her arrival in
England, that Lady **** was his mistress, to divert any suspicions
from herself; and had planted so many of her own relations about
her, that one day at Carlton-house, Sir William Stanhope called
everybody there whom he did not know, _Mr. or Mrs. Hamilton_. Lady
Archibald quitted that Court soon after Mr. Pitt accepted a place
in the Administration.

[78] Grace, daughter to the Lord Viscount Shannon, and wife of
Charles Sackville, Earl of Middlesex, Master of the Horse to the
Prince. She succeeded Lady Archibald Hamilton as Mistress of the
Robes.

[79] The following remarkable anecdote was told me by Mr. Fox, who
said the King himself told it him, and that the late Lord Hervey
had told him the same particular from the Queen. One day, when
the Prince was but a boy, his Governor was complaining of him:
the Queen, whose way (as the King said) was to excuse him, said,
“_Ah! je m’imagine que ces sont des tours de page_.” The Governor
replied, “_Plût à Dieu, madame, que ces fûssent des tours de page!
ces sont des tours de laquais et de coquins_.”

[80] Charles Hedges had been Minister at Turin, and was Secretary
to the Prince. He was a man much in fashion, and a pretty Latin
poet.

[81] Vide the Appendix, D and E.

[82] Vide Appendix.

[83] This nickname was not given in the sense it was formerly;
“Le boucher etoit anciennement un surnom glorieux qu’on donnoit à
un general après une victoire, en reconnoissance du carnage qu’il
avoit fait de trente ou quarante mille hommes.”--Essais Histor. sur
Paris, de Saintfoix, tom. 2, p. 63.

[84] Sir George Lyttelton, whose sister Ayscough had married,
and the three Granvilles, were nephews to Lord Cobham. W. Pitt’s
brother had married Lyttelton’s sister.

[85] William Anne Van Keppel, the second Earl of Albemarle.




CHAPTER IV.

  Indulgence to Murray revoked--Changes in the Establishment
  of the young Prince of Wales--Bubb Doddington--Chief Justice
  Willes--Dr. Lee--Promotions and resignations--The Naturalization
  Bill thrown out--Character of William Pitt, first Earl of
  Chatham, and of Mr. Henry Fox--New Appointments in the
  Household of Prince George--Breach of privilege--Lord Middlesex
  appointed Master of the Horse to the Princess--The Duke of
  Cumberland and the Regency--The Pelhams espouse the interests
  of the Princess--Resentment of the Duke of Cumberland--General
  Anstruther’s Cause.


April 2d.--Mr. Cooke moved in a very thin House, and late in the
day, to have Mr. Murray taken into the custody of the Serjeant at
Arms, on account of his bad health. It was agreed to, and ordered
that the Speaker should give permission to whomever he thought
proper to visit him.

Lord Lincoln was made Auditor of the Exchequer, in the room of the
Earl of Orford,[86] who was just dead. Mr. Pelham had affected
to be willing to retire with this post, which is at least eight
thousand pounds a year, and a sinecure for life. The King desired
him not to take it himself, and that dutiful Minister obeyed;
that is, he held it in the name of Lord Lincoln,[87] who was his
nephew and son-in-law, adopted heir to the Duke of Newcastle, and
the mimic of his fulsome fondnesses and follies, but with more
honour and more pride. As the Duke, his uncle, was a political
weathercock, he was a political weatherglass; his quicksilver
being always up at insolence, or down at despair. Lyttelton asked
to be Cofferer, if Lord Lincoln resigned it. Mr. Pelham told him
that, from his and Pitt’s behaviour this winter, the King would do
nothing for him.

3rd.--Palmer the deputy Serjeant-at-arms, reported to the House that
Dr. Lamont, who the day before had represented Murray as ill of the
jail distemper, told him that the prisoner had been in a sweat,
and must not be removed; besides, that there was danger of the
motion causing a return of his vomiting; and that on acquainting
Mr. Murray with the indulgence of the House, he replied, “He would
not come out of Newgate, and that it was mean and paltry in that
puppy, his brother, or any of his friends to petition for his
enlargement.” The House sent for Dr. Lamont, examined him again,
and then voted a total revocation of the preceding indulgence.

4th.--The King went again to see the Princess, and settled with her
the new Governor and Preceptors for the children. Lord North[88]
had lately been entrusted with the care of Prince George, with the
promise of an Earldom; an amiable worthy man, of no great genius,
unless compared with his successor. The Pelhams, who had now laid
a plan of perpetuating that power, which by so many accidents had
dropped into their hands, determined to beset the young Prince
entirely with their own creatures. Lord North was removed to make
way for Lord Harcourt,[89] who wanted a Governor himself, as much
as the Duke of Newcastle was likely to do by parting with Stone,
who was to be the real engine of their policy, while Lord Harcourt,
who was civil and sheepish, did not threaten them with traversing
their scheme, or teaching the young Prince other arts than what
he knew himself--hunting and drinking. Stone,[90] lately grown a
personal favourite with the King during the journeys to Hanover,
was a dark, proud man, very able and very mercenary. The other
Preceptor was Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, a sensible, well-bred
man, natural son of Blackbourn, the jolly old Archbishop of York,
who had all the manners of a man of quality, though he had been a
Buccaneer and was a Clergyman; but he retained nothing of his first
profession except his seraglio. Lord Hartington had been offered
the government of the Prince, but declined it.

The late Prince’s debts, which were supposed very great, were
extremely denied, and concealed as carefully as they would have
been vaunted by those who had laid that foundation of their
future advancement, if he had lived to be King. The Hanoverians,
who were said to have lent him considerable sums, took care not
to be the most clamorous for repayment. All who had flattered
themselves with rising in his reign, by being so insignificant at
present as to have no other support, were extremely disappointed
at losing their only prospect. Some Peerages were still-born, more
First-ministerships, and sundry regiments and inferior posts. Drax,
his Secretary, who could not write his own name; Lord Baltimore,
who, with a great deal of mistaken knowledge, could not spell;
and Sir William Irby, the Princess’s Polonius, were to be Barons.
Doddington,[91] it is said, had actually kissed his hand for the
reversion of a Dukedom. This man, with great knowledge of business,
much wit, and great parts, had, by mere absurdity of judgment, and
a disposition to finesse, thrown himself out of all estimation, and
out of all the great views which his large fortune and abilities
could not have failed to promote, if he had but preserved the least
shadow of steadiness. He had two or three times alternately gone
all lengths of flattery with Sir Robert Walpole and the Prince
of Wales. The latter and he had met again at last in a necessary
connexion, for no party would have anything to do with either.[92]

Lord Chief Justice Willes was designed for Chancellor. He had been
raised by Sir Robert Walpole, though always brow-beaten by haughty
Yorke, and hated by the Pelhams, for that very attachment to their
own patron. As Willes’s nature was more open, he returned their
aversion with little reserve. He was not wont to disguise any of
his passions. That for gaming was notorious; for women, unbounded.
There was a remarkable story current of a grave person’s coming to
reprove the scandal he gave, and to tell him that the world talked
of one of his maid servants being with child. Willes said, “What is
that to me?” The monitor answered, “Oh! but they say that it is by
your Lordship.” “And what is that to you?” He had great quickness
of wit, and a merit that would atone for many foibles, his severity
to, and discouragement of that pest of society, Attorneys: hence
his Court was deserted by them; and all the business they could
transport, carried into the Chancery, where Yorke’s filial piety
would not refuse an asylum to his father’s profession.

The Council forgetting that it was the Duke’s birth-day, appointed
the 15th for the Prince’s funeral, but changed it to the 13th, when
it was performed with the usual state.

Dr. Lee[93] was made Treasurer to the Princess, against the
inclination of the Pelhams; but the Duke of Newcastle soon began to
pay such court to him, and he to be so pleased with it, that they
were satisfied. He was a man of great integrity, and had preserved
it through all the late changes. His election to be Chairman of the
Committee of Privileges and Elections was the first instance of Sir
Robert Walpole’s declining power; he had been made a Lord of the
Admiralty by Lord Granville and Lord Bath, and had resigned with
the former, notwithstanding great offers from his antagonists. The
Prince had designed him for Chancellor of the Exchequer, a post for
which he was little qualified; for though he was a speaker of great
weight in Parliament, which was set off with a solemn harmonious
voice, and something severe in his style, his business of civilian
had confined him to too narrow a sphere for the extensive knowledge
of men that is requisite to a Prime Minister.

16th.--Lord Waldegrave[94] was made Warden of the Stannaries in
the room of T---- P----, a bad man; never was ill-nature so dull
as his, never dullness so vain. Lord Waldegrave on the contrary,
had complaisance enough to have covered folly or ill-nature, though
in him it only concealed a very good understanding, and made his
good-nature the less observed. He was a personal favourite of
the King, who had long wished for an opportunity to serve him.
Potter resigned his employment of Secretary to the Princess,
which was restored to Cresset, who was her chief favourite, and
related to the Royal Family by a Duchess of Zelle,[95] who had come
from somewhere in the provinces of France. Scott was continued a
Sub-preceptor.

The Naturalization Bill was thrown out at nine o’clock at night on
the third reading, by 129 to 116. The Duke of Bedford’s people had
staid away; the Wiltshire members, the Welsh, and the Tories to a
man were against it. Pitt and Fox had again some sparring: people
could not help smiling to see Cæsar and Pompey squabbling, when
they had nothing to say.

Pitt[96] was undoubtedly one of the greatest masters of ornamental
eloquence. His language was amazingly fine and flowing; his
voice admirable; his action most expressive; his figure genteel
and commanding. Bitter satire was his forte: when he attempted
ridicule, which was very seldom, he succeeded happily; when he
attempted to reason, poorly. But where he chiefly shone, was in
exposing his own conduct: having waded through the most notorious
apostasy in politics, he treated it with an impudent confidence,
that made all reflections upon him poor and spiritless, when worded
by any other man. Out of the House of Commons he was far from
being this shining character. His conversation was affected and
unnatural, his manner not engaging, nor his talents adapted to a
country, where Ministers must court, if they would be courted.

Fox,[97] with a great hesitation in his elocution, and a
barrenness of expression, had conquered these impediments and the
prejudices they had raised against his speaking, by a vehemence of
reasoning, and closeness of argument, that beat all the orators of
the time. His spirit, his steadiness, and humanity procured him
strong attachments, which the more jealous he grew of Pitt, the
more he cultivated. Fox always spoke to the question, Pitt to the
passions: Fox, to carry the question; Pitt, to raise himself: Fox
pointed out, Pitt lashed the errors of his antagonists: Pitt’s
talents were likely to make him soonest, Fox’s to keep him First
Minister longest.

17th.--The Earls of Harcourt and Hertford moved an Address of
Condolence to the Princess in the House of Lords; Lord Downe in the
Commons.

18th.--Lord Sussex, Lord Robert Bertie, and Lord Downe were
appointed Lords of the Bedchamber to Prince George; Peachy, Digby,
and Schutz, Grooms. Old John Selwyn[98] (who had succeeded to the
confidence of Lord Townshend, Sir Robert Walpole, and Mr. Pelham,
as they succeeded one another in power, and had already laid a
foundation with Mr. Fox) was appointed Treasurer to the Prince,
as he and his son were already to the Duke and Princesses. He was
a shrewd silent man, humane, and reckoned very honest--he might
be so--if he was, he did great honour to the cause, for he had
made his court and his fortune with as much dexterity as those who
reckon virtue the greatest impediment to worldly success.

Anstruther’s affair came on. George Townshend moved to address
the King to enforce the sentence of the Privy Council, and oblige
him to make compensation to those he had oppressed and despoiled.
Mitchell opposed the Motion; Pitt spoke well in behalf of it, and
it was agreed to without a division; and the further consideration
deferred to the Wednesday following.

Sir John Molesworth and Sir Robert Burdett, two Tory members,
complained to the House of having been carried by a Constable to
St. Martin’s roundhouse as they were walking home, and kept there
all night. At five in the morning, Carne, the High Constable, who
had been very active against Lord Trentham, offered to release
them on promise of their taking no revenge, which they refused.
The Constable was taken into custody, and Carne too, after a short
debate, the Whigs being very zealous to vindicate the honour of the
Tory members against a Tory High Constable. He was released the
next day.

Bathurst[99] and Joddrell were continued Attorney and Solicitor
to the Princess. Bathurst was an unpleasant, but sometimes a good
speaker. Joddrell was a very rising man, but died soon after,
and was succeeded by Henley, who was a lawyer in vogue, but his
abilities did not figure in proportion to the impudence of his
ill-nature. Douglas and Boone (in the room of Sir John Cust, who
was soon after restored on the death of Douglas) were named to
the Green Cloth, and Bloodworth had the sole direction of the
Stables. The King offered the Princess a Master of the Horse, but
told her it must be a Nobleman, and there was one to whom he had
an objection: This was Lord Middlesex.[100] She desired none;
if she had been disposed to contend, it would not have been of
all men in favour of the Lord in question. His figure, which was
handsome, had all the reserve of his family, and all the dignity
of his ancestors. He was a poet, too, because they had been poets.
As little as he came near them in this talent, it was what he most
resembled them in, and in what he best supported their honour.
His passion was the direction of operas, in which he had not only
wasted immense sums, but had stood lawsuits in Westminster Hall
with some of those poor devils for their salaries. The Duke of
Dorset had often paid his debts, but never could work upon his
affections; and he had at last carried his disobedience so far,
in complaisance to, and in imitation of the Prince, as to oppose
his father in his own boroughs. That Duke,[101] with the greatest
dignity in his appearance, was in private the greatest lover of low
humour and buffoonery. He had early lost the hearts of the Whigs
by some indirect connexions with Lord Oxford in the end of Queen
Anne’s reign; and he was never thought to have wanted a tendency to
power, in whatever hands it was, or was likely to be lodged.

The people had idly imagined that advantage would be made of the
youth of the Prince’s children to raise the Duke to the Throne.
Nobody had doubted but he must be Protector if the King should
die during their minority. All the precedents ran in his favour,
except two Acts which had never taken place, made in the reign
of King Henry the Eighth, for appointing Anne Boleyn and Jane
Seymour Regents during the eventual minorities of their respective
children. No woman had ever yet been Regent in a minority. Even
the Black Prince’s widow, though of the most distinguished virtue
and character, though an English woman, and of the Blood Royal
of England herself, was passed over, and her son regented by his
uncles. The King, who never thought of disturbing the right order
of succession, and who grew a little jealous of the Duke the moment
he had lost his other son, had, immediately on the Prince’s death,
proposed to have the future Regency settled by Parliament.

The Duke of Bedford, though connected with, and wishing well to
the Duke, and upon no terms with the Princess, had the honesty to
be the first man that declared for her being Regent. The Pelhams
took care not to disagree with him on this article. The Duke[102]
had broke entirely with the Duke of Newcastle towards the end of
the war, when Lord Sandwich having been ordered to communicate
a new plan to Count Kaunitz, had desired to be excused, but the
orders being repeated, he had obeyed artfully. The Duke thought
him in the wrong, and had received his consent to say everything
that might reconcile him to the Duke of Newcastle, but that he
thought himself in the wrong. The Duke of Newcastle had neither
accepted nor refused the Duke’s mediation, who was not apt to
pardon slighter offences than contempt. He loved indiscriminate
submission; flattery did not come up to his ideas of obedience, and
consequently he overlooked it: but the least opposition he never
forgave. With the most heroic bravery, he had all the severity that
levels valour to cowardice, and seemed to love war for itself,
without feeling the passions that it gratifies.

It is certain that his martial genius did not proceed from love of
glory, nor much from ambition. Glory he despised, saying, “That
when he was most popular, the satisfaction was allayed, by thinking
on Admiral Vernon!”[103] and he had taken every step to make
himself unpopular both with the people and the Army; and thought it
so much beneath his rank to have any share in the Ministry, that
he would not be of the Cabinet Council, and even when desired to
attend their consultations for the Expedition to Port L’Orient,
he would not vouchsafe to give his opinion, but confined himself
to answering their questions. His strongest principle was the
dignity of the Blood Royal, and his maxim to bear anything from
his brother if he had lived to be King, rather than set an example
of disobedience to the royal authority. These prejudices and this
pride were the swellings of his heart and temper, not the errors
of his head, for his understanding was strong, judicious, and
penetrating, though incapable of resisting partialities and piques,
of which he was susceptible from the slightest merit, or most
trifling offence. He was as angry at an Officer’s transgressing
the minutest precept of the military rubric as at deserting his
post, and was as intent on establishing the form of spatter-dashes,
or the pattern of cockades, as on taking a town, or securing an
advantageous situation.

The misfortunes[104] the nation had suffered from his inexperience
while he commanded in Flanders had been amply atoned by his
defeating the Rebels in Scotland; but that victory made him in
the end more unpopular than all his defeats; for the Scotch, the
Jacobites, and his brother’s jealousy never rested till they had
propagated such stories of his tyranny and severity, as entirely
lost him the hearts of the nation. He bore that hatred mildly,
and said, “That so far from resenting it (though he did not know,
since he came from Flanders, that he had deserved either praise or
blame) he should always with gratitude remember the behaviour of
the English, who received him with transports after the battle of
Laffelt, instead of impeaching him.” It is said, that after the
loss of that day, an English captive telling a French Officer, that
they had been very near taking the Duke prisoner, the Frenchman
replied, “We took care of that; he does us more service at the
head of your Army.” General Legonier,[105] who, by an action of
the most desperate gallantry, had prevented the total destruction
of our troops in that battle, and almost made Marshal Saxe doubt
of his victory, was never kindly treated by the Duke afterwards.
Hawley,[106] his executioner, who had been beat at Falkirk by his
own arrogance and obstinacy, was always in his favour. He despised
money, fame, and politics; loved gaming, women, and his own
favourites, and yet had not one sociable virtue.

The Pelhams taking advantage of this national antipathy to the
Duke; of their own superiority in Parliament, which was now
enforced by the greatest part of the late Prince’s faction; and
of a Hanoverian regulation, by which the nearest male relation
must be Administrator of that Electorate during a minority, and
consequently the Duke’s presence necessary there, even if the King
of Prussia should not pretend to the Government in case of his
absence, yet as so formidable a neighbour would be too dangerous to
an infant Elector, an apprehension that they well knew would easily
make its way into the King’s breast, where hatred and fear of his
nephew were already sufficiently implanted; by these arts and
insinuations they worked upon the King to nominate the Princess,
Regent, with a Council; and the Lord Chancellor was deputed from
the King to communicate the plan to the Duke. He went in a great
fright: the Duke read the scheme, and asked if he must send an
answer. The Chancellor hesitated, and did not make a direct reply.
However, the Duke desired “He would return his duty and thanks
to the King for the communication of the plan of Regency;” and
said, “For the part allotted to me, I shall submit to it, because
he commands it, be that Regency what it will!” The Duke bad Mr.
Fox tell Mr. Pelham this answer, and remember the word _submit_;
adding, “It was a material word; the Chancellor will remember it,
however he reports it.”

The Duke felt the force of this treatment in the most sensible
manner, and lamented himself in moving terms with his intimates,
wishing “the name of William could be blotted out of the English
annals;” and saying, “He now felt his own insignificance, when
even Mr. Pelham would dare to use him thus!”

From this moment he openly declared his resentment to the two
brothers, and professed being ready to connect with, nay, to
forgive any man, who would oppose them, even Lord Granville, who
was not at all unwilling to overset their power, though till
that could be done conveniently, he thought it as well to unite
with them. Lord Granville had, during his short and precipitate
Ministry, offended the Duke, not only by negotiating a match for
him with the King of Denmark’s sister, to favour some of the King’s
German views, but had treated him roughly enough, on his expressing
an aversion to that marriage, and had told him, he must be taught
his duty to his father. The Duke consulted Sir Robert Walpole,
then retired from business, how to avoid this wedding. Sir Robert
advised him to seem willing to consent, provided the King would
immediately make him a large settlement. The Duke took the advice,
and had no reason to repent it. The King would not part with
his money, as Sir Robert Walpole had foreseen, even to purchase
advantages for Hanover.

A mortification of a slighter sort followed soon after the Regency
Bill, that showed the Duke in what light he had appeared at his
brother’s Court. Prince George making him a visit, asked to see
his apartment, where there are few ornaments but arms. The Duke is
neither curious nor magnificent. To amuse the boy, he took down a
sword and drew it. The young Prince turned pale and trembled, and
thought his uncle was going to murder him. The Duke was extremely
shocked, and complained to the Princess of the impressions that had
been instilled into the child against him.

23rd--Mr. Pelham proposed some further restrictions on the sale of
Gin; slight ones indeed for so enormous an evil! They were ratified.

24th.--General Anstruther’s cause came on, and several witnesses
attended, according to the orders of the House. Sir Henry Erskine
moved to call in Brigadier Ofarel. Sir William Yonge objected to
it, saying, “He knew that what he was going to propose would be
disagreeable both to the gentleman who had brought the charge,
and to the gentleman accused; but that it concerned the honour of
the whole House, and therefore he must first desire to know of
the gentlemen of the Law, whether the crimes specified were not
comprehended within the pardon of the late Act of Grace.” Sir Henry
Erskine protested that he had no vindictive motive, but that he
must desire to have his cause heard; and asked whether the Act of
Grace was not known, or had not been mentioned before, that now he
was prepared to prove his accusation, he was to be put off in this
injurious manner? General Anstruther agreed with him in desiring
to have the cause heard, which he affirmed was a malicious, false,
and scandalous accusation, particularly in charging him with
subornation of witnesses, of which, he said, none could be guilty
but they who charged it on others.

The Attorney-General said, “He must enter his protest against
complaints in these circumstances; that there were two very
striking in this complaint; one, that the charge exhibited was of
a private nature; the other, that the facts alleged were previous
in time to the Act of Indemnity. That the House of Commons is not a
Court of Appeal; that this ‘is’ a case of false imprisonment; that
there are neither general nor particular words in the Act of Grace
to except it; that no punishment can follow, even if the General
should be convicted, and we should address for it. That the two
Houses of Parliament can have no mental reservation to pardon for
the King, and not for themselves; and, lastly, that the House of
Commons is not a Court of Inquiry into the characters of its own
members.” Sir Henry Erskine said, “That he supposed Anstruther had
been apprised of this objection, or he would not have used such
epithets on the charge, if he had believed the witnesses would
be heard, who would prove the allegations; but that he yet could
furnish crimes, from which the Act of Grace would not screen him.”

Lord George Sackville[107] said, “The Officers were concerned
to have this affair inquired into; that if the General did not
disculpate himself, could Officers with honour serve under him?
that he was sensible of the difficulty of not being able to
punish him; and therefore would give his negative to calling in
Ofarel, but proposed to have Anstruther tried by a Board of General
Officers.” Henley (the profession out-weighing the faction in him)
declared the House could exercise no jurisdiction in this case,
where the crimes were misdemeanours; and that even if both parties
should consent to go before a Judge, he would be bound ex-officio
to dismiss the complaint. Lord Strange,[108] a busy young Lord,
very disinterested, often quick, as often injudicious, and not the
less troublesome for either, proposed at least to declare, that
the Act of Grace was the reason of not proceeding; and that if the
House would take no cognizance of this affair, it might be heard
by the Board of Officers. Nugent, too, was tender of infringing
the Act of Grace, and sorry if he had been one to call improperly
on Sir Harry to make the charge. He said, “He had been told that
offences against the Mutiny Bill were to be pardoned only from the
year 43, but that the crimes in question were antecedent to that
era; if not, that the accused must plead the Act. That for himself
he should vote for Lord George’s Motion.”

Anstruther said, “I plead nothing as to the Act of Grace, but
desire the House to take it into their consideration.” Sir Richard
Loyd, a lawyer, said, “This was a misdemeanour, and a pardoned
one; that the prosecution of it now would affect numbers. An angry
court would have acted so formerly; should a House of Commons
act with such narrow microscopic eyes? We want no pardon; many
of our constituents may. An Act of Grace does not merely take
away punishment, but restores a criminal so fully, that to call a
pardoned Rebel perjured, he would have an action. But it is said,
we may inspect: for what end, if no consequence can follow? The
Clergy took this up once, on the misbehaviour of one of their own
body, from whom they would have taken orders, saying, they could
not serve with him; but the King’s Bench deeming it a punishment,
would not suffer it. In the reign of James II. a Mr. Bayne was
sequestered by the House for his unworthiness; but was restored to
his seat by an Act of Grace. If you have a mind to hear angry words
for some hours, without doing anything, you certainly may, but his
offence is neither against the Mutiny Bill, nor within the excepted
term; nor can he, being included within the Act of Grace, wave the
advantage of it.” He concluded, begging pardon of the House with a
sneer, for endeavouring to stop an inquiry.

Mr. W. Pitt said that if he had wanted information upon the Act
of Grace, he should have fully received it, though he had never
thought of infringing that; but that he had been desirous of
inquiring into the nature of the General’s tyranny, in order to
new model the Mutiny Bill, if it were necessary. That he wanted
to see the minutes of the Court-Martial for information, not for
foundation of a criminal prosecution. That without the impediment
of the Act of Grace, he should be against calling in Ofarel,
as the business of the House was not to hear causes that are
without our jurisdiction, but to find deficiencies in our laws,
and remedies for them. That, if this infringed the liberty of two
members, at least it was relative to what had happened before they
were so. That he had perceived there was something in the dark, yet
had not been the loudest to call for what others, whose situation
was more connected with military matters, might know better.
That to send this to a Board of Officers would be constituting
the crime anew: that all he desired was, that Governors in our
Plantations and Foreign Garrisons might know that the prosecution
of this affair was stopped by the Act of Grace, and might tremble
for the future. The hint towards the latter end of the speech was
levelled at Fox, the Secretary at War, an employment that Pitt
professed wishing to have preferably to Paymaster, though the
latter ‘was’ so much more considerable in profit, as it would give
him an introduction to the closet; the very reason why the King had
refused it to him. Pitt was so much mortified at the King’s never
speaking to him, that above a year before this the Pelhams had with
great difficulty obtained a word to him at the levee.

Sir John Mordaunt, an Officer of gallantry, with some wit, said,
he had early spoke his mind for hearing this cause, and had come
determined to hear the witnesses, but had changed his opinion,
because of the impropriety there would be of letting him continue
a member if he was proved guilty, an objection that would hold
equally against trying him by a Board of General Officers; a trial
that he disliked, as to clear the reputation of soldiers, he wished
to have them tried by any but Officers. That he saw the Crown would
be under the same difficulties as the House, and therefore he
agreed with Lord Strange’s motion for declaring the Act of Grace
the impediment. Fazakerley, a tiresome Jacobite lawyer, was clear
that he was comprized within the general pardon; and yet for the
honour of the House was for doing something, and that something was
to try him, that the King might not trust him any longer.

Mr. Pelham said, “That if he were for trying him by a Board of
Officers, he should not be hindered by the Act of Grace, which
had been originally his opinion as the properest way of carrying
the cause before the King; but that it must now rest here, as all
the lawyers were agreed on its being a violation of the general
indemnity. That so far from desiring with Fazakerley that the King
should remember it, he wished the whole case could be obliterated;
and that this might go no further between the two persons, whom he
begged to bury in oblivion their private resentments, as the House
was obliged to do those of the public.” The Speaker took up this,
observed on the harsh words that had passed, and desired they would
be publicly reconciled. Sir Henry Erskine answered, “The General
gave the offence.” The General replied, “I gave no offence: I said
the accusation was false and malicious; does not my very denial of
the charge say the same?” The Chair insisted on their engaging
to carry this quarrel no further; to which Anstruther answered,
“I shall take no further notice.” The Speaker said, “Do you give
your honour?” Anstruther; “I do.” Sir Harry Erskine said pertly,
“I thought he would have made an apology.” Sir William Yonge
interrupted him, and told him, he must not enter into a discussion
of what had passed; and the Chair insisted on Sir Harry’s giving
the proper assurances; on which Sir Harry at last said dryly, “I
give my honour in consequence.” Lord Strange then repeated his
Motion for a declaration of the reasons of not proceeding.

Mr. Fox told him, “He was sorry to hear such a Motion after so wise
a conclusion; and that it would be giving a reason for all, which
was not the reason of many. That the accusation was nothing before
reduced to writing; that he still thought it a frivolous affair;
that it could not be said Sir Harry was unwilling to present the
charge, as he had repeated the accusation day after day; that
Anstruther could call it nothing but false or true; that he had
frequently been intreated by the General to get the cause heard;
and would now give him a word of comfort, that he had thought him
much more guilty before the charge was presented--‘and’ now did not
think him guilty of a thousandth part of what he had been accused.
That as to the Motion, no vote ever passes for a single reason;
that this would be introducing a new practice; and he concluded
with asking whether the House would permit Anstruther to enter
upon the Journals a complaint against the charge?” Sir Henry
Erskine said to that, “That there were accusations in the answer
as well as in the charge.” General Oglethorpe[109], of whom it was
uncertain whether he was a Whig or a Jacobite, whether very brave
or a coward, for he had fought several duels, and had run away in
the Rebellion; very certain that he was a troublesome and tiresome
speaker, though even that was now and then tempered with sense;
took notice that if it were mentioned in the votes that the Act of
Grace had been read apropos to this Debate, it would sufficiently
explain without a further comment why the affair was dropped. Lord
Strange owned himself content with this remark, and withdrew his
Motion. The House adjourned at half an hour after eight.


FOOTNOTES:

[86] Robert Walpole, the second Earl of Orford, Auditor of the
Exchequer, Master of the Fox-hounds, Ranger of Richmond New Park,
and Knight of the Bath, died in March, 1751.

[87] Henry Clinton, Earl of Lincoln, Cofferer, and one of the Lords
of the Bedchamber to the King. His mother was sister to the Duke
of Newcastle and Mr. Pelham; and he married Mr. Pelham’s eldest
daughter, and had the Duke of Newcastle’s estate entailed upon
him. He was created a Knight of the Garter in 1752; became Duke of
Newcastle in 1768, and died 1794.

[88] Francis Lord North and Guildford, one of the Lords of the
Bedchamber to the Prince; created Earl of Guildford in 1752.

[89] Simon Lord Viscount Harcourt, one of the Lords of the
Bedchamber to the King; created Earl in 1751.

[90] Andrew Stone, son of a banker, private secretary to the Duke
of Newcastle. His younger brother had lately been raised to the
Primacy of Ireland.

[91] George Bubb Doddington had distinguished himself early in
business, and was at the Court of Spain very young with Sir Paul
Methuen, who left him there to sign the treaty of Madrid. He
flattered Sir Robert Walpole extravagantly, and wrote that epistle
to him, from whence Pope quoted the famous line, where he calls him
the bard,

      In power a servant, out of power a friend.

However, being refused a Peerage, the great object of his ambition,
he broke with the Minister, and attached himself to the Prince of
Wales, but was undermined by Lyttelton. He renewed his connexions
with Sir Robert Walpole, and was made a Lord of the Treasury; but
deserted him again on his decline, and contributed greatly to carry
the western elections in 1741, against the Court. He continued
in Opposition during Lord Granville’s administration; but came
into place again on the Coalition, and was Treasurer of the Navy.
However, he again quitted the Court, and renewed his engagements
with the Prince, and had a new place erected for him at Leicester
House, that of Treasurer of the Chambers, for which, when he went
to kiss hands at St. James’s, the King burst out a laughing in his
face. The Prince’s family were exceedingly averse to receive him
again amongst them, and treated him with great contempt, which made
Nugent, but a little before the Prince’s death, tell the Princess,
that he thought, considering Doddington was united with them, that
he was too ill treated there. She replied with warmth, “However
the Prince himself treats him, depend upon it he can never forgive
him. He knows that even since his coming this last time into his
service, he has said of the Prince, _Il a une telle tête, et un tel
cœur, qu’on ne peut rien faire avec lui_.”--(Vide Appendix.)

[92] On the birth-day of the Prince of Wales, in 1759, Doddington
standing in the circle, the Princess passed him without speaking;
the Prince just spoke to him, but affected to cough, and walked on;
the little Princes, less apprized of his history, and accustomed to
see him there, talked a good deal to him. Charles Townshend, who
stood behind and observed this scene, leaned forward, and in a half
whisper, cried, “Doddington, you are d--d well with the youngest.”

[93] It was common for the Prince, after dinner, to toast to Dr.
Lee’s being soon Chancellor of the Exchequer.

December 19th, 1758.--Yesterday morning, died suddenly, in his
chair, at his house in St. James’s-square, the Right Hon. Sir
George Lee, Knight, Doctor of Laws, Dean of the Arches, Judge of
the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, member of Parliament for
Launceston, in Cornwall, and one of his Majesty’s Most Honourable
Privy Council.

Sir George Lee was the fifth son of Sir Thomas Lee, of Hartwell,
in Buckinghamshire, Bart., by Alice, daughter and heir of Mr.
Hopkins, of London, merchant; and youngest brother to the late Lord
Chief Justice Lee. He represented the borough of Brackley in the
seventh, eighth, and ninth Parliaments of Great Britain, and on the
16th of December, 1741, was elected Chairman of the Committee of
Elections in the honourable House of Commons by a majority of two
only against Giles Earle, Esq.; and upon the change of the Ministry
in March following, was appointed a Lord of the Admiralty, which
vacating his seat in Parliament, he was in July following chosen
for Devizes. In the tenth Parliament he served for Leskard, in
Cornwall.

Upon the establishment of the Princess of Wales’s Household, he was
in April, 1751, appointed Treasurer to her Royal Highness, which he
resigned in the year 1757.

In December, 1751, on the decease of Dr. John Bettesworth, he was
appointed, by Archbishop Herring, Dean of the Arches, and Judge of
the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, and in February following his
Majesty was pleased to confer upon him the honour of Knighthood.

[94] James, Earl Waldegrave, one of the Lords of the Bedchamber.

[95] Eleonora D’Esmurs, daughter of Alexander D’Olbreuse, a private
French gentleman, was married to George William, Duke of Zelle,
father of Sophia Dorothea, wife of King George the First.

[96] William Pitt, younger brother of Thomas Pitt, of Boconnok, in
Cornwall, was originally a Cornet of Horse, and broke by Sir R.
Walpole at the time of the Excise, when his kinsman, Lord Cobham,
lost his regiment for opposing that scheme. He was then made Groom
of the Bedchamber to the Prince of Wales. The old Duchess of
Marlborough left him ten thousand pounds, and her grandson, Mr.
Spencer, entailed the Sunderland estate upon him after his own son.
When Sir Robert Walpole resigned, and Mr. Pulteney was created
an Earl, Mr. Pitt said, “He now knew his place in the House of
Commons.” He continued in Opposition, and distinguished himself
greatly against the Hanover troops, and personally against Lord
Granville, till the fall of that Minister. On the coalition, he
pretended to desire nothing for himself; but as soon as his junto
were placed in good employments, he began opposing again, till in
a very short time he was made Vice Treasurer of Ireland, and was
designed for Secretary at War, which the King (at the instance of
Lord Bath) refusing to make him, occasioned the revolution of three
days in 1746; soon after which he was made Paymaster of the Forces
on the death of Mr. Winnington, the King persisting in not letting
him have any place that could give him the entrée of his closet.

[97] Henry Fox, only brother to Lord Ilchester, had been bred a
Tory, and was voted, upon a petition, out of one of Sir Robert
Walpole’s Parliaments; but being reconciled to the principles of
the Court, by the friendship of his brother with Lord Hervey, to
whom Mr. Fox was second in his duel with Mr. Pulteney, he was made
Surveyor of the Works, and on Mr. Pelham succeeding to the head of
the Treasury, Mr. Fox was made a Commissioner of that board, and
was at this time Secretary at War.

[98] He had been Aide-de-camp to the Duke of Marlborough, and a
Colonel of Foot, but was obliged to sell his regiment when his
Patron was disgraced. On the accession of the Hanover family, he
was made Comptroller of the Customs, then Groom of the Bedchamber
to the present King, Treasurer to the Queen, and on the resignation
of Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, Paymaster of the Marines. He died
at the end of the year 1751.

[99] Henry, a younger son of Allen, Lord Bathurst.

[100] January 6, 1769.--Yesterday died at his house in St. James’s
Street, his Grace Charles Sackville, Duke of Dorset, in the 58th
year of his age. His Grace received the first rudiments of his
education at Westminster School, in which he was introduced by the
late celebrated Prior, and there gave strong indication of genius.
The Duke afterwards visited France and Italy, with the latter of
which countries he was particularly delighted, being accompanied
by the late learned and very benevolent Mr. Spence, who cherished
the love which his Grace naturally bore to the Polite Arts. At
his return from his travels, he encouraged learning and learned
men. The Duke was honoured with the esteem and affection of the
late much-lamented Prince Frederick, and it was thought that his
Grace would have made a very considerable figure in the State. He
was skilled not only in the learned languages, but also in the
modern. He had not the talent of speaking in public, so was not
distinguished in the House of Commons; but he was a fine prose
writer, of which (among other pieces) his Treatise concerning
the Militia is a proof. Some few printed specimens of his poetry
show his happy talent for that engaging art; and especially the
manuscript pieces left behind him, which, it is hoped, will not be
lost to the world. The Duke had laboured, during many years, under
a complication of distempers, and was carried off in a fit. The
excruciating pains with which he had been long afflicted made life
uncomfortable; however, those who were acquainted with his former
days, image to themselves the learned, the polite, and entertaining
companion, whose affability was very attractive, as it threw off
(in his presence) all distinction, that of superior merit excepted.
But, alas! sickness, disgust, and disappointment, are apt to sour
the sweetest dispositions.--(Public Journals.)

His Grace is succeeded in title and estate by the Hon. John
Frederick Sackville (son of the late Lord John Philip Sackville,
second son of Lionel Cranfield, first Duke of Dorset), and Knight
of the Shire in the present Parliament for the county of Kent.

[101] Lionel Cranfield, first Duke of Dorset, had gone through
most of the great posts, and was at this time Lord President, Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland, Constable of Dover Castle, and Knight of the
Garter.

He had voted once or twice with the Tory Ministry, when coming
one day into the Kit Cat Club (it was about the time that the
Portuguese had abandoned the Army of the Allies in Spain) Earl
Berkeley, a boisterous zealous Whig seaman, cried out, “God
d--n you, Sir, no Portuguese! I will keep company with no
Portuguese!”--(Vide Appendix.)

[102] The Duke of Cumberland.

[103] Edward Vernon, a silly, noisy Admiral, who, towards the
beginning of the war with Spain, was rash enough to engage to take
Porto Bello with six ships only, and rash enough to accomplish his
engagement; which made him so popular, that, notwithstanding his
failing soon afterwards in an attempt upon Carthagena, and after
that, more blameably upon Cuba, by his dissensions with General
Wentworth, he was chosen into Parliament for several places, had
his head painted on every Sign, and his birth-day kept twice in
one year. Yet as his courage was much greater than his sense, his
reputation was much greater than his courage. One should have
thought that the lightness of his head would have buoyed up his
heart in any extremity! He had withdrawn himself but very awkwardly
from two or three private quarrels, and lost his public character
with still greater infamy; for being out of humour with the
Admiralty, he published a series of letters and instructions from
that Board in the very heat of the Rebellion, by which he betrayed
our spies--[It was believed that one of them was actually hanged
in France, he being never heard of after this transaction]--and
intelligence to the French, and was removed from all command with
ignominy. He raised great wealth by the war, and by his economy,
and was at last chosen one of the Directors of the New Herring
Fisheries, which occasioned the following epigram:--

      Long in the senate hath brave Vernon rail’d,
      And all mankind with bitter tongue assail’d;
      Sick of his noise, we wearied Heav’n with pray’r,
      In his own element to place the tar:
      The gods at length have yielded to our wish,
      And bad him rule o’er Billingsgate and fish.

October 31, 1757.--Sunday last, died at his seat, at Nacton, in
Suffolk, Edward Vernon, Esq., member of Parliament for Ipswich,
and elder brother of the Trinity-house. In the sixth and seventh
Parliaments of Great Britain he represented the borough of Penryn,
in the eighth the town of Portsmouth. On the 20th of July, 1739, he
sailed from Portsmouth for the West Indies with nine men-of-war and
a sloop; and on the 5th of November following sailed from Jamaica
with the Burford, Hampton Court, Princess Louisa, Strafford,
Norwich, and Sheerness; and on the 21st of the same month took
the fort of Porto Bello; as also Gloria Castle, and Castle of St.
Jeronimo, with five ships only (the Sheerness being then cruising
off Carthagena), with the loss of only seven persons killed, and
twelve wounded. In this expedition the principal engineer in the
mining work was Captain (now Admiral) Knowles of the Diamond,
assisted by Captain (now Admiral) Boscawen, who desired he might
serve in this expedition as a Volunteer, his ship the Shoreham not
being then fit for the sea. For this service the Admiral had the
Thanks of both Houses of Parliament, was presented with the Freedom
of the city of London in a gold box; and in the ninth Parliament
of Great Britain, summoned to meet the 25th of June, 1741, was
returned for the city of Rochester and borough of Ipswich, but made
his election for Ipswich, which he also represented in the last,
and in the present Parliament. After the affair of Porto Bello, he
took Chagre, and continued in his Majesty’s service till the year
1748, when several matters which had passed between the Lords of
the Admiralty and Mr. Vernon being laid before his Majesty, he was
struck off the list of Flag Officers. (Public Journals.)

[104] He lost the battles of Fontenoy and Laffelt against Marshal
Saxe, and all Flanders.

[105] Sir John Legonier was a French Protestant and Knight of the
Bath.

[106] General Hawley was so severe, that he was called in the Army
the Chief Justice.

[107] Youngest son to the Duke of Dorset, and Colonel of a regiment.

[108] Eldest son of the Earl of Derby.

[109] The great promoter of the Colony of Georgia, had been
surprised and put to flight by a party of the Rebels at Clifton.




CHAPTER V.

  Prince George created Prince of Wales--The Regency Bill--Murray’s
  case in the King’s Bench--Speech of Lord Bath--His
  character--Speeches in the House of Lords on the Regency Bill--It
  is brought to the Commons, and opposed by the Speaker--Character
  of Speaker Onslow--Debate in the House of Commons on this
  Bill--Character of Horace Lord Walpole--Speeches of Pitt and
  Fox--The Regency Bill read a third time in the House of Commons,
  and passed.


April 25th.--Prince George kissed the King’s hand on being created
Prince of Wales.

26th.--Sir John Phillips moved the King’s Bench for a Habeas Corpus
for Murray, which was granted. Sir John was a man of a worse
character than parts, though they were not shining. He had quitted
Parliament on the desperate situation of the Jacobite cause, after
having attempted during the last Rebellion to get the Subscriptions
and Associations for the King declared illegal; and was now retired
to Oxford, the sanctuary of disaffection.

The King sent a Message to both Houses to desire they would pass
an Act for appointing the Princess Dowager of Wales, Regent, with
proper limitations, in case he died before the Prince was eighteen.
The Duke of Newcastle, seconded by the Duke of Devonshire, opened
it in the House of Lords; Mr. Pelham, and the Chancellor’s eldest
son[110], in the Commons. Both the brothers made awkward and
ill-placed panegyrics on the Duke; and Addresses of Thanks were
voted.

27th.--Murray was brought by Habeas Corpus into the King’s Bench;
but, three Judges allowing the validity of a commitment by the
House of Commons, he was remanded to Newgate.

May 1st.--The Regency Bill was to have been brought into the
House of Lords, but was deferred, to be softened a little, upon
objections made by the Bishop of London to the unprecedented
powers that the Council had given themselves in it. The Chancellor
drew it; and for the honour of his profession had contrived to
show that a legal tyranny might be formed as despotic as the
most usurped authority. And lest it should shock a free people,
and draw an odium on the Government, he had submitted to bear
the greatest share of the envy himself; for, though the Bill was
directed to establish the power of the Pelhams, the Chancellor was
likely to have the amplest share by his own voice, and those of
his creatures, the Archbishop, the Chief Justice Lee, and my Lord
Anson, his son-in-law, whom they designed for first Lord of the
Admiralty, though on the original plan, that Officer was omitted in
the Council of Regency, because they had not then determined to
remove Lord Sandwich.

3rd.--A question was proposed to the House by Sir William Yonge,
whether such members as were named to be servants to the new Prince
of Wales were to vacate their seats, as their appointment was by
the King. Stone and John Selwyn were of the number. It was agreed
in the negative without a Motion.

7th.--The Duke of Newcastle opened the Regency Bill in the House of
Lords, and it was read the first time without opposition.

10th.--The committee in the Lords on the Regency Bill. Earl
Stanhope, whose studies were mathematical, and principles
republican, to the honour of which, though without any parts,
he had acted steadily in Opposition, when Jacobites and
Royalist-Whigs, and men of all other denominations had changed
for every other denomination, opposed the clause that gave the
Regent a Council; an opinion that was rather more consistent with
the effect of his principles, to oppose a Regal Government, than
with his principles themselves; but it was carried by 98 against
him, and the Earls of Thanet, Shaftesbury, Oxford, and Lichfield,
the Viscount Hereford and Townshend, and the Lords Ward, Maynard,
Foley, Romney, and Talbot.

Lord Bath then made as miscellaneous a speech as he used to do
in the House of Commons; objecting to the not leaving the Regent
power to displace any of the inferior Commissioners of Treasury or
Admiralty; and weeping actual tears when he mentioned the possible
event of the King’s death. This duteous dew was followed by a joke
on Harry Vane[111], formerly his tool and spy, now in that office
to the Pelhams, and a wonderful Lord of the Treasury, who, whenever
he was drunk, told all he knew, and when he was sober more than he
knew, and whom Lord Bath said, on seeing there, he did not mean to
propose removing. Then soaring up to a panegyric on the Princess,
he observed, that female reigns in England had not been the least
glorious, and yet the great Princess, who was likely to figure with
the Elizabeths and the Annes, would not be empowered to reward
merit, or to place, if she found such an one, a proper person at
the head of the Treasury: that she even would not have authority to
appoint her own son, Prince Edward, Lord High Admiral, nor to grant
convoys to any merchants who solicited for them: that indeed she
might tell the merchants she would use her interest with Parliament
to get this Bill altered, and then she would protect them. He then
(it is very true he said so) wished that all employments were for
life, or _quam diù_ those who held them _se benè gesserint_; and
professed (it is even true that he professed) having been ashamed
of the struggles he had seen for places, half of which he wished
were to be diminished at the King’s death, and the salaries to be
applied to the Sinking Fund: that, having been lately in France,
he had observed that the weight of their debt is the debts on
employments. He concluded with declaring he liked the Bill, and did
not mean to oppose it.

Lord Bath[112] is so known a character, that it is almost needless
to draw him. Who does not know that Mr. Pulteney was the great
rival of Sir Robert Walpole, whose power he so long opposed, at
last overturned, and was undone with it? Who does not know that
his virtue failed the moment his inveteracy was gratified? Who does
not know that all the patriot’s private vices, which his party
would not see while he led them, were exposed, and, if possible,
magnified by them the instant he deserted them? Who does not know
that he had not judgment or resolution enough to engross the
power, which he had forfeited his credit and character to obtain?
and who does not know that his ambition, treachery, irresolution,
timidity, and want of judgment were baffled[113] and made advantage
of by a man who had all those vices and deficiencies in a stronger
proportion--for who does not know the Duke of Newcastle?

The Chancellor answered Lord Bath upon some points of form that he
had mentioned in the drawing Commissions for the Boards of Treasury
and Admiralty, but owned that it was indifferent to him whether
that clause in the Bill were altered or not. Lord Bath confessed
himself in a mistake, having concluded that a single alteration
vacated the whole Commission. Dr. Maddox, Bishop of Worcester,
who did not want parts, wanted them now, making a bad speech, and
objected that the Princess, who might make a Lord Lieutenant of
Ireland, would not have authority to make a Baron of the Exchequer
there; and he proposed her having the disposal of all offices in
general. The Duke of Newcastle, who had too much good-nature, or
too much jealousy, to let anybody else be eminently ridiculous
where he was present, replied in a tone of raillery, “that the
nomination of Bishops and Judges had been previously excepted,
because the first thoughts of the compilers of the Bill had been
directed to the security of our souls and properties, and had
been taken from the Regent, because she might not know the true
character of such Divines as were recommended to her.” And, lest
even this nonsense should wear the appearance of an argument, his
Grace added, that he could not help remembering what had been
said when the Act of Union passed, that there were already in the
English House of Lords twenty-six immortal Peers, meaning his good
Lords the Bishops, who he hoped would all deserve immortality.

Lord Talbot, a Lord of good parts, only that they had rather
more bias to “extravagance” than sense, opposed the clause for
continuing the Parliament for three years after the King’s death;
talked over the nature of Government, asserted that the contests
arrived in England during minorities had not arisen from new
elections; and said, that “they might make laws with relation to
future Parliaments, but had no power to extend the duration of the
present.” Lord Talbot[114] was a sworn enemy to the Chancellor
from some family jealousies, and soon after his father’s death and
Yorke’s elevation, who had made a speech against some advantages
that were demanded for the Prince of Wales, Lord Talbot said, “He
should certainly submit to such high authority, if he had not in
his hand an opinion directly contrary, which he could not help
thinking of equal weight.” It was expected that he was going to
read a judgment of his father, but it was an opinion which the
present Chancellor himself had given, when he was Attorney-General,
on a parallel case referred to his and Talbot’s judgment in the
late reign, when the present King had figured in the character of a
mutinous Prince of Wales.

Lord Granville replied to Lord Talbot, “That it was the
parliamentary clause that gave stability to the whole Bill, and
hoped we should even have enacted it without a message from the
Throne. That Rebellions were best carried on during elections;
that it had been the policy of Louis the Fourteenth to foment
them here at that season; and that he had had an opportunity, when
last Secretary of State, of knowing, among the secrets which had
not come to light, that it had been an advice given in the Council
of France during the very last Rebellion, to wait for a general
election.” He declared his approbation of the restrictions, not
that they would, he hoped, be necessary in the present case, but
as they would be a precedent for, and of service to posterity. The
Bishop of London made no opposition, and the Bill was committed by
106 to 12, Lord Townshend voting for the latter clauses, and Lord
Folkestone against them.

The Duke of Bedford was laid up with the gout and rheumatism, but
was very eager to have gone to the House and opposed the whole
tenour of the restrictions. His friends apprehending that it would
undo him with the King (who had been made to believe that this
act against his own son was of his own direction), used all their
endeavours to dissuade him, and succeeded pretty easily after
the first division, which had been composed of so few, and those
such insignificant Lords. Lord Sandwich, who was not impatient to
precipitate his own fall, voted, with the Duke’s consent, for every
part of the Bill.

13th.--The Lords read the Regency Bill the third time, and sent it
to the Commons, who read it immediately. Mr. Pelham opened it, and
moved for its being read a second time. Sir Francis Dashwood made
several objections to it, and asked “What was the intent of the
Duke’s being the head of the Council of Regency? a question, he
said, simply of curiosity, for he did not desire he should have any
power. If this Bill was calculated to pare away the prerogative,
he wished the Parliament would set about it roundly, and stickle
for a new Magna Charta. He observed that there was no provision
made, in case the Princess should die before the determination
of her Regency; and he feared her being displeased with these
very strict limitations.” He attended the Bill no more, which he
foresaw would pass by a great majority, after he had satisfied
himself with declaring against it. He was a man of sense without
eloquence, and of humour without good humour: naturally inclined
to adventures, and had early in his life made a voyage to Russia,
dressed like Charles the Twelfth, in hopes of making the Czarina
Anne fall in love with him--an improper hero to copy, when a woman
was to be captivated! Oglethorpe found more faults in the Bill;
Nugent commended it extravagantly. Lord Limerick too approved it,
but observed a want of provision, in case the King died during a
dissolution of Parliament, or before a new-elected one had sat.

The Attorney-General answered him, and the two other opponents,
and declared his opinion, that a new chosen Parliament, even
before a session, would answer the purposes described in the Bill:
but the Solicitor-General thought that it must be the dissolved
Parliament that should re-assemble. The Attorney[115] was a man
of singular goodness and integrity; of the highest reputation
in his profession, of the lowest in the House, where he wearied
the audience by the multiplicity of his arguments; resembling the
Physician who ordered a medicine to be composed of all the simples
in a meadow, as there must be some of them at least that would
be proper. T. Pitt and Sydenham spoke against the Bill; Dr. Lee
in approbation of the Council, as a safeguard to the Regent, and
treated the nomination to offices as a trifle. Henley spoke for the
Bill, but agreeing with Lord Limerick’s observation. Mr. Pelham
then proposed to read it a second time on the morrow. T. Pitt asked
for a longer day, and to have the Bill printed, and was seconded
by Sir John Cotton; but on Mr. Pelham’s opposing it, there was no
division. The House sat till past seven.

14th.--The Regency Bill was read a second time, and opposed only by
Mr. Delaval, in a very absurd speech, which he asked pardon for not
having made the day before, which was the first of his sitting in
Parliament.

16th.--The House went into the Committee on the Regency Bill, when
Mr. Pelham, who had apprehended no considerable opposition, was
in the Chair. T. Pitt moved to refer the King’s Message to the
Committee; Vyner to adjourn till the Bill could be printed; but as
the House generally suffered him to be singular in his opinion,
nobody seconded him now. Prowse, who affected to be in Opposition,
what Mr. Pelham affected to be in power, candid, and who was, like
Mr. Pelham, a man of some sense without parts, said, “That when
this Bill should be passed, he supposed the King would not remove
any of the great Officers who were to compose the Regency, as they
would tacitly have had the approbation of Parliament; indeed, of
what must they be guilty to justify turning them out after this
approbation?” That it would be quoted hereafter by ambitious
subjects, who should want to engraft themselves upon the Regal
Authority, that even this Parliament had strictly tied up the hands
of a Princess, whom they affected so much to commend; that the
Royal Power can’t be divided into many hands; and that if this Bill
passed, the nation ought _indeed_ to pray for the King’s life.

Lord Strange and Sir Roger Newdigate both spoke against the Bill;
and Charles Yorke, second son to the Chancellor, a young lawyer
of good parts, but precise and affected, for it. He said, “That
there were but two instances of a Parliamentary Regency, those
of Richard the Second and Henry the Sixth, and in both those,
Councils had been established by Parliament; that the confusions
of those minorities flowed from the advice of Parliament not being
followed: that the Duke of Gloucester, on his brother’s going to
France, applied to Parliament for directions how to act, and was
told by them, that his power was limited, and accordingly had only
the title of Protector conferred on him: that this clause puts the
Princess under a happy inability of doing wrong; and that it would
quiet jealousies, if there be a subject among us who could create
suspicion.”

Fazakerley made remarks upon the Bill, without directly opposing
it; and then Mr. Onslow (the Speaker) with a solemnity never more
properly assumed, made a noble and affecting speech against it.
“He professed that he would not have begun an opposition to the
Bill, but could not avoid, when once it was opened, to declare
that he thought the regulations dangerous; and that having so
much studied the constitution, as it was his duty to do, he was
obliged to speak his opinion. It was, that the Regal Power must
not be divided; that control is dividing it; that it never ought
to be controlled, except when abused; that instead of one King, we
should have nine; that the Council might put a negative on what
the Regent should propose; that to control, is to give the power
to those who control; that if the Council refuse to make peace
or war, the Regent must submit; that this control is placed in
the hands of those she will not be able to control; that the best
Regent we ever had, the Earl of Pembroke, in Harry the Third’s
time, was a single Regent; a good man, but his virtue was assisted
by his undivided power. That he foresaw there would be dissensions
among themselves; though he had a high opinion of those designed,
yet will they not be men? Power corrupts the best understandings;
factions in the Regency may derive themselves into both Houses,
and those who should correct, may become parties in the grievance.
In Edward the Sixth’s time, though the reformation of religion was
then in question, did it check the animosities in the Council?
Even then, letters-patent were obtained in contradiction to an
Act of Parliament, which had limited the Protector’s authority.
That though any members of the future Council will be removeable
by address to Parliament, how will such address be obtained
against the most turbulent? Nay, Parliament may be under a long
prorogation, and the Regent, all helpless, will see nothing but
factions in the Council that should assist her. How distressed will
be her condition, how distressed the condition of her children,
of the nation! I wish well,” continued he, “to those who will
have the power, a power that nobody will envy them! Though it
has the appearance of establishing that power of which I am the
most apprehensive! I must--I will speak my duty! It may be for
the service of those who procure this Bill. Why, if the power of
peace and war is to be delegated, why is it not entrusted to the
Parliament? I hope we are not to address the Council for either!
Nay, if we should submit to that humiliation, what, if they should
slight, as they may, our application? What a solecism in this
constitution to have Parliament contradicted by nine persons!”

He then made a solemn prayer for the King’s life, as the only
preservative against this plan of power, which, he said, if it ever
took effect, would exceed all the evils that could be foreseen
from a single Regent. For himself, he had nothing to ask, nothing
to fear, and whenever he should cease to serve the House, he knew
whither only he would go. He then entered upon that monstrous
clause, which subjects to the penalties of a præmunire whoever
shall attempt any alteration of this system after it be enacted.
He argued with great weight on the prodigious danger of it, and
mentioned a test proposed in 1675 to oblige members to take an oath
not to attempt any alteration in the State. It held a Debate of
seventeen days, and at last the House of Lords resolved, that such
a test would not affect Debates in Parliament, or restrain them. He
said, that if members should meet privately to concert measures for
the repeal of this law, it might be construed into a præmunire; and
many lives had been taken away by construction. He concluded with
an earnest asseveration of the uprightness of his intention, and a
serious protest against the mischiefs of the Bill.

Mr. Pelham was inexpressibly shocked at this speech, though he had
no reason not to have apprehended it. The Speaker had been at the
private meetings on the Bill, where he disputed warmly with the
Chancellor. Their cabal said that he acquiesced; that when he had
given his reasons and found they had no weight, he had said no
more--was that acquiescing? They even said that he agreed to the
general plan on their softening some points, which at last they did
not soften. On sketching out some correction of the most flagrant
strokes of power, the Duke of Newcastle had said, “Now they had
reduced the Bill to nothing!” The Speaker replied, “I wish it was!
it would be better for you. If it is nothing, it is a reason for
not doing it.” This argument probably struck them, and so they did
all they first intended. He told Mr. Fox, that they might have
softened it with regard to the Duke, by declaring it was the tenour
of the English constitution. Mr. Fox assured him, that the Duke had
said, “My Lord Chancellor told me, no such declaration could be
made, because circumstances might happen to make it inconvenient.
That crisis,” continued the Duke, “must be when I am out of the
question.”

The Speaker was master of an honesty, which though it would
bend very much upon most occasions, especially when its warping
would prop its reputation, was tough and steady when pushed
to an extremity: and he would sometimes see that extremity as
soon in trifles as in materials. His disinterestedness[116] was
remarkable, and he was fond of exerting it. Popularity was his
great aim, impartiality his professed means, universal adulation
and partiality to whatever was popular, his real means of acquiring
it. He was bigoted to the power of the House of Commons; and,
like all zealots, ardent for his own authority, as intimately
connected with the interests of his idol. He had much devotion from
the House, few friends in it, for he was too pompous to be loved,
though too ridiculous to be hated; had too much knowledge not to be
regarded; too much dignity in his appearance not to be admired; and
was too fond of applause not to miss it.

The Speaker was answered in a long deduction by the
Attorney-General, and by Charles Yorke, who said, that on the first
Regency Bill after the Revolution, ten Judges had given their
opinions that the regal power may be both delegated and divided.
Lord Strange asked shrewdly, “If it was probable that there would
be no dissensions in the Council of Regency, which was to be
composed of the present Ministry? Survey them; with what cordiality
have they concurred in all measures for some years! May not it
happen, that if the Regent should refuse[117] to employ some person
recommended by them, the junto may threaten to _resign?_ an insult,
such as within my own time I have almost seen offered to a crowned
head! We shall see all that repeated scramble for power, that I
have two or three times seen acted over. Can the Duke be removed
by address of Parliament? I won’t say that he is most likely to do
mischief, but certainly he is most capable of doing it. As to the
præmunire clause, the person who drew it deserves to incur it.”

Murray, the Solicitor-General, said, “He did not wonder there were
but few precedents to direct them of a Prince thinking thus greatly
of his own death, and providing for emergencies to arise after it:
that the Law of England knows no minority: if the person of the
minor King should be seized by force, his power would accompany
the possession of his person: that this Bill creates a minority,
and provides against the evils of it: that in private cases,
no guardian has the whole power over an estate, that his ward
will have when he comes of age; that no Prince, even in absolute
governments, ever appointed a Regency without control; that all the
members of the future Regency must be thought proper persons by the
King; that the great officers specified must be named by him; and
the four others whom he is to appoint by his will must be entirely
of his own choice; that there are but three acts of legislation
which the Regent and the two Houses cannot perform--altering the
established succession, the established religion in England, and
the Presbyterian church government in Scotland; that members of
Parliament are not restrained from taking measures to get this law
repealed; that the prohibition is levelled against altering what
shall be done by the Regency, not against altering the Bill, and
clause of præmunire. He asked whether it was wished that the Regent
should be made too powerful for the Council and both Houses of
Parliament; and whether even a King ever made a Judge without the
approbation of at least three of his Council? and he added, that it
would be a solecism to say that the Council should be a check upon
the Regent, and yet be removeable by her as easily as she pleased.
That she would have a strong control upon them, as they would not
have power even to make a Judge without her; nor be able to move
anything without her concurrence. With regard to what the Speaker
had urged on the delegation of the power of making peace and war,
he asked, if there was no difference between entrusting it to a
Council of seven hundred men, who take all the inhabitants of this
country to their assistance, and a Council of twelve persons?”

Mr. Fox then declared himself for the Bill though he spoke against
almost every part of it; and being afterwards told by Mr. Pelham
peevishly, that Pitt’s was the finest speech he ever heard, but
that he (Fox) had not spoke like himself; he replied, “I know it;
if I had, I should have said ten times more against the Bill;” but
he objected that the præmunire clause was a little ambiguously
worded, and that if the person who penned it was aware how wrong
it was, he indeed deserved to incur all the weight of it. “Can
fourteen persons[118],” said he, “have power, and not want more
than their share? and if the Regent and her Council should proclaim
the young King major a year before the time specified, would not a
man in the street who hallooed at such proclamation be liable to a
præmunire?” “The crime,” he added, “was too uncertainly described
for such heavy punishment, and of all times a minority is the
worst to subject the people to penal laws.” He would have had the
whole clause omitted, because every man, without being a lawyer,
ought to know what the Regent can or cannot do. He asserted, that
as the Chancellor is named in the Bill to be necessarily of the
Regency, the putting the Great Seal in Commission would violate the
Act. If they would not erase the whole clause, he proposed that
the punishment annexed should be impeachment, as it could only be
meant to come at great persons who should attempt to disturb the
Settlement. Mr. Pelham, from the chair, told him angrily that this
was not the clause then in debate, but the first clause, which
passed without a division about seven o’clock.

Norris Bertie then spoke against the whole Bill, thinking penal
laws dangerous in the hands of ten subjects equal to himself, and
that he was serving his country while he delayed the Bill even by
speaking. Sir John Barnard declared against appointing a Council,
and affirmed that the consideration of the person intended for
Regent ought to have weight in the Debate, though the contrary
was asserted; that while she was controlled, we should have no
kingly authority; the more preposterous, as he could foresee no
inconveniences from the Princess’s enjoying it; that the nation
might want some of its great officers, unless she should always
name such persons as should be agreeable to the junto, who would
have means of inducing the Parliament to pass Acts disagreeable to
her, at the same time, that without them she would not have power
to dissolve or prorogue it. He concluded with desiring it should be
known that he was utterly against the Council. Harding, a sensible
knowing man, but who having been many years clerk to the House,
was not well received as a speaker, said, “that the mischiefs of
former Regencies arose from a neglect of proper restrictions; and
he quoted Chancellor Oxenstiern, who, on the death of Gustavus
Adolphus, had given his advice to the senate of Sweden to compose
a mixed Regency, but not to appoint a sole Regent, or a Council of
Regency without a Regent. He added, that in his opinion even the
Duke might be removed from the Council.” This frank delivery of
his sentiments was the more honest, as he was actually the Duke’s
Attorney.

Nugent made a bombast speech about an angel; and then Lord Cobham
(the only one of the cousin-hood who could not be turned out,
having no place; Lyttelton and George Grenville had both without
doors, like him) declared against the Council. He said, “He could
not figure a weaker government than what they were chalking out;
and as if there were not factions enough in the legislative power,
they were laying a foundation for as many in the executive, and
were destroying a Bill, which, if the Council clause were omitted,
would be the most popular that ever was passed; that he had come
to the House resolving to acquiesce even in this, as he thought it
would be happy if it were universally assented to; but when others
had made objections, he could not suppress his, which was to the
Council, not to the continuance of the Parliament; that the House
of Commons might perhaps address the Regent to remove some of the
Council, while the House of Lords might vote an approbation of the
same persons; at the same time that the Parliament could not be
dissolved but by an irremovable Council, the usual way of putting
a stop to differences between the two Houses. He then turned
absurdly to an apology for himself, as people do who are fearful or
conscious, and hoped his behaviour was free from reproach; that he
did not like cutting the Government out into sippets; but desired
to be understood to have a good opinion of some, of many that were
to compose the Council; and hoped that those (he approved) would
never be removed from her Royal Highness’s ear; at the same time
he believed that those who brought in the Bill did not foresee
all the power of the Council; nor would he himself consent to the
prolongation of the Parliament, if he thought it was calculated for
bad purposes.”

Lord Cobham[119] was the absolute creature of Pitt; vehement
in whatever faction he was engaged, and as mischievous as his
understanding would let him be, which is not saying he was very
bad. He had kept less measures with Mr. Pelham than any of his
connexion, and had not spoke to him above once for the last six
months. He was more a gentleman than his brother George[120], who
was a pedant in politics, but less deceitful. James[121], the
youngest of the three, had all the defects of his brothers, and had
turned them to the best account. All of them were troubled with a
redundancy of words peculiar to their family, though without the
energy of Pitt’s language, or the hyperbole of Lyttelton’s.

Martin spoke for the clause, and said, “the King could not have
a separate interest from his people, the Princess might; witness
Queen Isabella and her[122] minion Mortimer: that if this precedent
were established, it could not hereafter be set aside, if the young
King’s mother should happen to be a bad woman; and that, if the
conduct of the Princess were a foundation for entrusting her with
the sole power, it was so amiable and estimable, that the argument
would go to giving her absolute power.” Sir John Cotton disapproved
of the latitude given to the King, of naming four persons to
be of the Council by a testamentary disposition, and of whom
the House could know nothing. Pitt declared he had no objection
to the Council, as he could find no traces of a Regent without
control; and then (as if all mankind had forgot his ingratitude to
the Prince, as he had his obligations to him) he pronounced the
present case doubly aggravated by the loss of the most _patriot_
Prince that ever lived, to whom he had such infinite obligations,
and such early attachments, which he was proud to transfer to his
family. Then turning to the King, whom he regarded with wonder for
exerting a fortitude which Edward the Third had not been master
of, he blessed the Crown when it was the first to lessen the royal
authority, as it had been in the present case, by pointing out
these limitations, so expedient, as dangers were to be foreseen
from abroad--from at home, if we considered the great person who
might have become sole Regent. What a precedent would that have
been for futurity, if hereafter any ambitious person should think
less of protecting the Crown than of wearing it! With regard to the
Princess, the limitations were of no consequence, for let her but
hint to Parliament at any improper negative given by the Council to
her recommendation, an address would immediately be offered to her
to remove them. He desired, if that event should ever happen, to be
put in mind of what he now said, and he would second the Motion.

Fox replied, “that it was an absurd notion not to give the Princess
the whole power of royalty, because she was not called Queen; and
he hoped that the nation was not only safe from the characters
of the persons who were to compose the Council, but from the
constitution; and if that, and the laws already in force, were not
sufficient to circumscribe the Regent, our liberties would not be
safe; that if those laws would not be efficient under a Regent,
how are they so under a King? That as to the precedents that had
been alleged, they were urged ridiculously; must this be assented
to because it was so in the days of Harry the Third, when the
constitution was totally unlike what it is now? Half of the Regency
nominated by Henry the Eighth were <DW7>s, half Protestants;
was that disposition preferable to a single Regent? No; it was
formed for dissension; nor is there one reason to be drawn from
precedent, or from the nature of our constitution. Should we follow
the example of the Barons? The only reason to imitate them would
be, that the times are unlike. Oxenstiern’s advice too is totally
unapplicable: not,” continued he, “that I believe the Council
will obstruct the Regent’s measures; I believe they will assist
her: but if they should not, whoever should advise her to make a
speech to Parliament to accuse her Ministers, would be guilty of
a præmunire.” Pitt answered, “That the tendency of such a speech
would not be to alter the plan of Regency, but to check a faction;
that what he had said regarded the clause of non-amotion; and
that he was of Mr. Fox’s opinion, who must have mistaken all his
speech, or he all Fox’s, though the latter had said that he would
not be included as agreeing for his reasons. That in any case he
should not be for lodging power where there may be a temptation to
prolong it.” Fox replied again, “That a Regent could not be more
dangerous than a King; and imagined that Pitt had meant that the
Regent’s speech should be intended to prevail on the Parliament to
address her to alter the whole tenour of the Bill.” The House grew
tired of their altercations, and more of General Oglethorpe, who
spoke after them; and divided between nine and ten at night, when
the Council clause was voted by 278 to 90; and then they adjourned
the further consideration of the Bill till next day.

17th.--The Committee on the Regency Bill was resumed. Lord Strange
asked, if being nominated to the Council of Regency would vacate
a seat in Parliament. T. Pitt proposed to leave out such words
as precluded the Princess from disposing of offices. Old Horace
Walpole ridiculed the Speaker, and was glad that with all his pomp
and protestations he had no more influence. He was proceeding to
preach up more regard to the King’s Message, but was called to
order by T. Pitt and Lord Strange, who objected to making such
use of the King’s name in a Debate. Prowse said, “he would appeal
to that great treaty-maker, whether it was proper that fourteen
persons should be entrusted with all the steps of a negotiation?
That for the nomination of Bishops and Judges, he thought it
a trifle; but disapproved extremely of the Council having any
power to dispose of the Treasury, which with so great an army of
revenue-men might be dangerous, if in the opposite scale to the
Crown.” Horace Walpole replied, “That some had carried it so much
beyond him, as to be willing to trust the secret of treaties to
seven hundred persons.”

Horace Walpole[123] was still one of the busiest men in Parliament;
generally bustling for the Ministry to get a Peerage, and even
zealous for them when he could not get so much as their thanks.
With the King he had long been in disgrace, on disputing a point of
German genealogy with him (in which his Majesty’s chief strength
lay) whose the succession of some Principality would be, if eleven
or twelve persons then living should die without issue. He knew
something of everything but how to hold his tongue, or how to
apply his knowledge. As interest was in all his actions, treaties
were in all his speeches. Whatever the subject was, he never lost
sight of the peace of Utrecht, Lord Bolingbroke, and the Norwich
manufactures; but his language and oratory were only adapted to
manufacturers. He was a dead weight on his brother’s Ministry;
the first to take off that load on his brother’s fall;[124] yet
nobody so intemperately abusive on all who connected with his
brother’s enemies; nobody so ready to connect with them for the
least flattery,[125] which he loved next to money--indeed he never
entirely forgave Lord Bath for being richer. His mind was a strange
mixture of sense alloyed by absurdity, wit by mimicry, knowledge
by buffoonery, bravery by meanness, honesty by selfishness,
impertinence by nothing. * * * *

Sydenham, as an old Tory, spoke for the undiminished prerogative,
quoted Greek, and said that subjects had never before attempted to
make Peers; and that the commissions of Judges determine at the
King’s death. Robinson urged that the House can only be adjourned
by itself; but Sir William Yonge gave him precedents to the
contrary; particularly, that the two first sessions of the late
King’s first Parliament had been adjourned by the Crown; and that
nobody is at liberty to speak after the Crown has sent a Message
for adjournment. Sir John Cotton asked, if the Crown had the power
of adjournment, seeing the method is to send to desire the House
would adjourn itself? T. Pitt (who the last summer had held a tin
Parliament in Cornwall, had been baffled by an opposition erected
by the Boscawens, under the auspices of the Ministry) was obliged
from his own case to argue for the prerogative, and said, “That
during his holding that Parliament he had searched for precedents,
and had found that the Crown could adjourn even by proclamation,
or by a message from the Secretary of State.” Robinson acquiesced,
but observed, “That there is no possibility of suspending the power
of the legislature; that if the Regent can repeal this Act, she
may repeal the three that by this she is excepted from the power
of repealing.” The Solicitor-General answered, “That it is only a
direction to her not to give her consent to the repeal of the three
Acts, though, if she should, it would be valid.”

The clause for continuing the sitting Parliament to the end of the
minority, was then read. Lord Limerick, with as much zeal as if he
too had lately held a tin Parliament, made a panegyric on the two
Georges, and on the blessings which the people had enjoyed under
them without tasting them;[126] and hoped the nation would be
in such profound tranquillity as not to need the prolongation of
the Parliament; and that the Ministers then will not act by half
measures, and by expedients from day to day; and in confidence that
they will dissolve the Parliament as soon as they may with safety,
he made a motion of amendment to the clause, that it may be the
last dissolved Parliament that shall assemble on the King’s death,
if another, though chosen, shall not have met and sat. Lord Strange
approved the Motion, except that he liked just the reverse of it;
and would have established the newly elected Parliament. Dr. Lee
answered, “That the act of Queen Anne on a parallel case, prefers
the old Parliament:” and Gybbon assigned the reason, because there
may arise Debates on the new Speaker and double returns.

Mr. Fox asked, “If the prolonged Parliament is not to dissolve
of course as soon as the minor King comes of age?” The
Attorney-General replied, “The general law of the land will then
operate for its dissolution.” But Henley said, “That, as the
new elect might be composed of ignorant persons, he wished the
prolonged Parliament were to last six months after the commencement
of the majority, that the young King might have the same benefit
from that act that an older Prince would have!” Sir William Yonge
approved this opinion, and said, he remembered that on the late
King’s accession, instead of attending the business of the House,
every body ran out of town to secure their re-elections. The
Solicitor-General replied, “That as the prolonging Parliaments
was neither an eligible nor popular measure, he was glad the
regulation extended no further; though it was more necessary now
to continue their duration for some time after a King’s death than
when Parliaments did not give the Revenue.” George Townshend spoke
against the Parliament’s prolonging itself, and said, “There was
nothing so dangerous as to inculcate into a young King, that he
owes his safety to anything unconstitutional.”

Fazakerley made a tedious calculation, which he seemed to intend
for humour, of how long the Parliament might possibly continue if
every one of the late Prince of Wales’s children should happen
to die just at a given time. The Solicitor replied, “That, if
such melancholy accidents should happen, the reasons for the
continuation would increase in proportion.” Morton spoke for,
Dowdswell and Sir John Cotton against the amendment; but it was
voted. Lord Harley[127] then spoke prettily against the whole
clause, and said, “That all the arguments that had been used
would hold good upon all elections, and would tend to make any
Parliament perpetual; and that such groundless apprehensions ought
not to be appeased at the expense of the constitution; that the
people will be cheated who will not have opportunities of changing
such representatives as they dislike; and that upon the whole he
observed, that Parliaments had originally been annual, then were
stretched to triennial, then lengthened out to septennial, and now
were going to be made perpetual.”

Lord Hilsborough said, “That the arguments urged against the clause
were reducible to those of power, right, and expedience. That the
Parliament has power to prolong itself, is plain from the very
debating upon it; that it has a right, appears from the Triennial
and Septennial Acts, and from the Sixth of Queen Anne; and for the
expedience, it is a known maxim, _salus populi suprema lex esto_.
That in the case of a Rebellion, would a Parliament allow of its
own dissolution, which would bring on the tumults of new elections?
or in case of a plague, would any wise Government give occasion to
great and populous assemblies, when it would even be unfit for the
Parliament itself to meet? That the event in question might include
all the others, and probably would some of them; and that the
prolongation now in Debate would not be actual, but discretionary,
while the circumstance of the manner in which it came recommended
must strike the breast of every man.” Bowes, Vyner, and T. Pitt,
spoke against the clause; Charles Yorke for it. Sir John Rushout
observed that T. Pitt had made the King’s Message the foundation
of the Debate, and then had objected to its being pleaded. He was
called to order, and so were some others; Gray and Dowdswell then
spoke against, and Southwell for the clause, which was carried at
half an hour after seven, by 258 to 81.

Then was read the clause to prevent the young King from marrying
before the expiration of his minority, unless with consent of
the Regent, and the major part of the Council; and to annul any
such marriage, and to declare all the persons concerned guilty of
high treason. This clause, which on the very face of it is a flat
contradiction to the established opinion of the Church of England,
which never heard of dissolution of marriage for political reasons,
had passed uncontroverted through the House of Lords, undisputed
by the Bench of Bishops. So obsequiously now did the sages of the
Ecclesiastic Courts bow to temporal power! Fazakerley alone in the
Commons remonstrated against it, and showed “the dangers that may
arise from pronouncing the King’s wife guilty of high treason, and
her children illegitimate; and the mischiefs it may occasion, as he
may marry her again after his majority--unless you will divest the
Crown of the prerogative of pardon, and that in the dearest case,
and will bind the Regency not only to prosecute a new species of
treason, but to enforce the penalty. If this illegal Queen may be
pardoned, and then espoused again, what confusions, what contests
may not spring from the different children she may bear during her
first and second marriage, when one son may plead his birthright
under the new establishment, the other his seniority under all the
known descriptions of legitimacy in the Church of England.”

The Attorney-General made a slight answer, and this new kind of
divorce passed without farther opposition.[128] Schisms and holy
wars have sprung from smaller seeds! But religious animosities were
out of date; the public had no turn for controversy; the Church had
no writers to make them fond of it again. This had lately appeared;
Dr. Middleton,[129] the best writer of the age, had overturned
the Fathers, and exploded some visions of the Bishop of London,
without a tolerable answer being made in defence of either. Of the
prelates, the Archbishop[130] was a harmless good man, inclined to
much moderation, and of little zeal for the tinsel of religion.
Hutton, the other Archbishop, was well bred and devoted to the
Ministry. Honest old Hoadley,[131] who, to the honour of his times,
had, though the champion of Liberty, risen to the rich Bishopric
of Winchester, was in a manner superannuated. Sherlock of London,
almost as able a combatant for the power and doctrines of the
Church, was past his strength, and still fonder of the politics
of the Government than of the honour of the Keys. The Bishop of
Durham[132] had been wafted to that See in a cloud of metaphysics,
and remained absorbed in it. Gooch of Ely, the highest Churchman
in his heart, had risen to his present greatness in the Church by
shifting his politics. The rest were men neither of note nor temper
to give the Ministry any disturbance.

Then the præmunire clause was read. Mr. Fox said, “He was ready
either to wait for the opinions of the lawyers, or to endeavour
to amend the clause himself. That he had several objections to
the wording of it; that _Acts passed_ may be Acts of Parliament;
that _in order to vary the Settlement_ ought never to be words in
a penal Act; by the same rule a person would be guilty of robbery
who went to a gunsmith’s with another to buy pistols _in order_
to rob. That _null and void_ must mean Acts of Parliament, not
letters-patent, for they cannot supersede Acts of Parliament. That
the crimes intended to be punished by this law should be certainly
known, and not subject to constructions. That the door of the house
where the plague was would be marked, and then whoever entered,
let him die!” He then proposed to leave out the word _præmunire_,
and to leave the pursuit of the crime to the common course of
the law of the land; or to make it even high-treason, provided
it was made clear to the subjects, what the crime was to be; as
no man can suffer but for known crimes. That the maxim, _Misera
est servitus ubi lex est inserta_, can only be meant of penal
laws, for all other laws are undoubtedly much too uncertain. Fox
frequently attacked the lawyers; he loved disputing as much as they
do, but as he loved sense and argument, which they make a trade of
perplexing, he could not bear a society who at once inverted the
use of reason and the profession of justice.

He was answered by Murray, the Solicitor-General,[133] a frequent
antagonist of his, who had quickness and eloquence enough to defend
or not to want the knowledge of the Law, of which he was master. He
said, “There could be no hurt in omitting the words that conveyed
any doubtful meaning; that the Bill was calculated against unlawful
acts, such as force and usurpation, upon the foundation of former
examples, particularly the disposition made by Henry the Eighth;
that it was only a clause _in terrorem_; that there must be an
overt act; that the House had already passed a sanction of the same
nature in the marriage clause: but if these words were disliked,
you might insert _unlawfully and without consent of Parliament_;
and that the Regent would certainly not be included within the
words.”

Fox accepted the proposed words, but would have omitted _in order_,
which would still leave the necessity of the overt act in full
force. He insisted “that the clause affects nobody but those who
assist the Regent in endeavouring the repeal of this Act, and
consequently that she is tied up from innovating, while her Council
are at liberty to attempt what farther usurpations they please
upon hers and the royal authority. It is difficult to ascertain
what her accomplices must or must not will and know, to include
them within the penalty; that if she takes out letters-patent
to be sole Regent, are the clerks who draw them to be subject
to the præmunire? That it must be right to omit the words _in
order_, since in the Solicitor’s opinion they were useless; in
his, dangerous: but supposing they were still to remain, he could
not help insisting on being told, what punishment there would be
for him or any man who should attempt to cancel the Regency Bill
without the connivance of the Regent?” The Solicitor replied, “That
such act would be against the King, because he was in her hands;
but that this provides against doing it _with_ her consent. That
the words _in order_ were neither so unheard of, nor so formidable
as was pretended; that the Coventry Act has the equivalent words
_with intent_; and that the Mutiny Bill (brought in by Mr. Fox) has
even the words _in order_. He owned that those words were inserted
to prevent the connivance of the Regent from giving an air of
legality to any attempts of innovation.” The Master of the Rolls
said, “He could not point out words to describe the crime, but he
thought _with intent_ preferable to _in order_.”

Fox asked, “If whether, as it was allowed that it would be lawful
to attempt the repeal of the Act by parliamentary methods, the
attempters would be guilty of a præmunire, if the Parliament should
not concur for the repeal? But that as it was confessed by great
lawyers that the crime could not be described, he desired to have
it considered, whether it would not be more proper, more humane,
and more sensible, to leave the punishment to the Judges?” Sir
Richard Loyd said “That the words _in order_ were not dangerous,
but that _advising_ was too vague, as it may be proper to give
the Regent such advice; that if the word _promoting_ stood, he
should wish to insert _unless to apply to Parliament_.” Fazakerley
approved the addition of _without the consent of Parliament_. The
Attorney said, “That _intent_ could only relate to the person, not
to the concurrence; that he thought the words _Acts passed_ might
be omitted, but that the lowest persons concurring knowingly to
defeat the Act, ought to incur equal punishment.” Lord Strange
said, “It must mean Acts of Parliament, for nothing else could
set aside this:” and then he moved the amendments that had been
proposed.

Pitt said, “He imagined they were already agreed to; that he would
have _Acts passed_ omitted, but liked _in order_: that he approved
the addition of the word _unlawful_, but would omit _without
consent of Parliament_, because it would be inviting applications
to Parliament, and would make men turn their minds to get this
Act repealed, though there was no doubt already, but that the
Parliament could alter this settlement if it should please.” He
then moved to leave out _Acts_, and was seconded by Fox. Fazakerley
asked whether it would not be necessary to have a Commission of
Regency if the Princess should be ill. Pitt then moved to insert
_unlawfully_, and Fox yielded not to mention _without consent of
Parliament_, and to let _in order_ stand. Lord Strange said, if he
were to have the Princess’s ear, he would advise her to get this
Act repealed. Fox moved for leaving out _concurring_. Old Horace
Walpole argued for its remaining; and Sir William Yonge defended it
as meaning no more than the three other words that accompanied it.
Fox ridiculed him on his reverence for the sacredness of tautology,
and said, that if all those words had the same meaning, he would
leave out three of them. Pitt was for retaining the word, because
it had once been inserted, and to omit it now, would be telling the
people that they might concur. Thus at half-an-hour after ten at
night, this inquisition clause, having dwindled into a grammatical
dispute, was voted, with corrections more worthy of grammarians
than a House of Commons, by 126 to 40; a few of Mr. Fox’s and the
Duke of Bedford’s friends insisting upon a division, though the
former would himself have acquiesced.

20th--The Bill was reported, read a third time, and passed, with
nothing material but a long bad speech of Mr. Beckford against
it, and Mr. Pelham’s, who was now got free from the chair, for
it. He said, “He would not observe on what any particular person
had said, but must express his surprise at so much Debate, after
the message had been sent by the King, who had recommended
restrictions, which had been approved by both Houses, and his
Majesty had received Addresses of Thanks from both upon it.” He
said, that notwithstanding this, the Debates had not been upon
any particular restrictions, but against any at all; yet he must
ask, how appointing a Council for the Regent was a breach of the
constitution? That as to precedents, for his part he had never
heard one exactly stated and followed in observations; that in
the present case, what was to be learnt from precedents, was, the
danger of minorities; and that the remedy now to be applied, was
not a breach, but a preservative of the constitution, against it
could operate again. That his motive for approving the Council,
was, that he would not lead the Princess into temptation; that
he was willing to give her all the agreeable part of authority;
and that the Council would be no check, where she was to exert
grace and favour, but only where there should be weighty points
that might introduce difficulties. That it was possible she might
get favourites about her; that a Regent may be subject to them as
well as a King; that it was for her security to have a Council
responsible. That when the settlement of the Crown was made in
favour of the House of Hanover, greater restrictions than those in
question had been proposed, and somewhat stronger than temporary
Regencies. That the Regent would only be limited in those great
acts, where the Crown itself is limited, of peace and war.

Is there, continued he, any person here wise enough to tell me,
who is answerable for the acts of the Regent? She herself is; and
as this provision takes off that subjection from her, it is a
respect to her. I hope I shall not be thought to want respect to
her, if I, who have ventured to speak my mind under the King my
master, am as freely spoken in what regards the Princess. He then
mentioned the clause for prolonging the Parliament, and said, that
ever since the Restoration, there has always been a dissolution or
suspension of Government during general elections; that a contagion
has constantly arisen, which has suspended all connexions of
friendship, all notions of right and wrong; and that many a man
has given his vote for one man, who would leave the care of his
children to that very man’s antagonist. That our constitution gives
sanctions to invasions, to that bad spirit of disaffection, which
makes our enemies lie in wait till they see how elections turn
out. He added, that he should say very little upon the clause of
præmunire, which had been so fully explained and answered by the
lawyers; though it was sufficient that Englishmen wanted no farther
safety, who must be tried by juries, that are not likely to stretch
constructions. One thing he would say, _that the Bill cannot be
too strictly observed_. For the objections, they were not against
the whole Bill; and the Committee had acquiesced in amending
those parts that were most liable to exception. That indeed he
could not but lament that the approbation of the House had not
been more general, as he knew, when differences arise there, what
constructions are made upon them without doors: but that he only
lamented this, did not pretend to blame, as he spoke without
prejudice, passion, or partiality, and that he was persuaded nobody
would suspect him of any prospect to power for himself from this
Bill, as he should be too great a wretch to build views of grandeur
on what he must regard as the greatest misfortune, and what would
shake the foundations of his country. It is observable, that of the
two persons who had framed, and were to glut their own ambition
the most by this Bill, the Chancellor and Mr. Pelham, the former
pronounced any man a fool, the latter stamped him a villain, who
expected or laid a plan of power from it. It passed without a
division. The greater part of the late Prince’s Court voted for the
Bill. Lord Egmont for nothing but prolonging the Parliament.

21st.--The amendments were explained to the Lords by the Duke of
Newcastle and the Chancellor, and agreed to.


FOOTNOTES:

[110] Philip Yorke. He had married the granddaughter and heiress of
the Duke of Kent.

[111] Eldest son of the Lord Barnard, was made Vice-Treasurer of
Ireland by Lord Bath, on the change of the Ministry, in 1742,
from which place he was removed on the coalition, but not long
after placed in the Treasury; and was afterwards created Earl of
Darlington. He died March 6th, 1758.

[112] William Pulteney, Earl of Bath, had been persuaded by Sir
Robert Walpole to apply himself to politics, in which, soon making
a figure, he was appointed Secretary at War, when the Whigs came
into power in the late King’s reign; but towards the end of it
he went into Opposition, at the head of which he continued till
the fall of Sir Robert Walpole. That Minister persuaded the King,
when he took leave of him, to comply with none of Mr. Pulteney’s
demands, unless he would quit the House of Commons and accept a
Peerage, which he imprudently promising to do, though not without
great reluctance, before the patent was passed, and raising his
creatures,--Sandys, Sir John Rushout, Gybbon, Harry Vane, and
Harry Furnese,--who were men of the meanest capacities, to the
chief places, in preference to all the rest of the Opposition who
had acted with him, they refused to follow him in his politics,
and persecuted him in Parliament, and with innumerable libels
and satires. On the death of Lord Wilmington, he asked for
the Treasury, to which Mr. Pelham was preferred, but to which
he was named in the Ministry of three days. From that time he
made no figure; he was immensely rich, from great parsimony and
great successions, and had endeavoured to add another to them:
the Duchess of Buckingham, natural daughter to King James II.,
designing to take a journey to Rome, to promote some Jacobite
measures, and apprehending the consequence, made over her estate
to Lord Bath, by a deed which he afterwards sunk, and pretended to
have lost. On this, the Duchess, after forcing a release from him,
struck him out of her will as one of her Executors; and many years
afterwards, on marrying her grandson to Lord Hervey’s daughter, she
appointed Sir Robert Walpole one of her Executors. This happening
soon after that Minister’s fall, he said to Lord Oxford in the
House of Lords, “So, my Lord, I find I have got my Lord Bath’s
place before he has got mine.”

[113] After the revolution of three days, Lord Bath was going
to print a Diary which he had kept, in order to show all the
falsehoods, treacheries, and breaches of promise of the Duke
of Newcastle and Mr. Pelham, he having minuted down their
conversations with him on the fall of Sir Robert Walpole.

[114] William, Lord Talbot, was eldest son of Charles Talbot, Lord
Chancellor.

[115] Sir Dudley Ryder.

[116] He resigned the beneficial place of Treasurer of the Navy
just after Sir Robert Walpole’s removal, because the Opposition
said that his attachment to the Court arose from interest; yet that
Minister always thought the Speaker not enough attached to him, and
treated him very roughly, especially on his first visit after his
disgrace. However, when the votes for the two last members of the
secret committee were equal on the ballot for two of Sir Robert’s
friends and two of his enemies, the Speaker decided in favour of
the former.

[117] As was the case in 1746, when the King refused to make W.
Pitt Secretary at War, and the whole Ministry resigned upon it.

[118] The different ways of reckoning the Council, as to be
composed of nine, ten, or fourteen persons, arose from including,
or not including the Duke, or the four to be named by the King’s
will.--Vide the Act.

[119] Richard Grenville, Lord Cobham, and since Earl Temple.

[120] Grenville, a Lord of the Treasury.

[121] Grenville, Deputy Paymaster, and one of the Lords of Trade.

[122] It is remarkable that, in the next reign, Martin became a
distinguished tool of the Princess’s minion, Lord Bute.

[123] Brother to Sir Robert Walpole, had been secretary to Earl
Stanhope in Spain, was afterwards made Secretary to the Treasury,
and Auditor of the Plantations, and was several times Ambassador in
Holland and France, then made Cofferer of the Household, and lastly
one of the Tellers of the Exchequer, and was created a Baron in
1756, and died February 5, 1757, aged 79.

[124] He paid the greatest court immediately to Lord Wilmington,
and the instant the secret committee was voted, he set out for his
house in the country, to burn, as he said in the House of Commons,
dangerous papers; after which he professed himself very easy for
what might happen.

[125] This was so much his foible that, when W. Pitt wanted to
reconcile himself to the Whigs, he used to flatter H. Walpole in
his speeches in the grossest manner; and when he was ambitious of
being Secretary of State, he proposed H. Walpole for it as the only
proper person, knowing that would be impossible to be effected, and
hoping it would then come by rebound to himself.

[126] The decency of this censure from Lord Limerick may be
gathered from the long time he had been in Opposition himself, and
from his being the person who made the famous motion for removing
Sir Robert Walpole, as the supposed author of all the calamities of
the present reign.

[127] Eldest son of the Earl of Oxford.

[128] A second instance of the same kind of complaisance from the
Bishops appeared in May, 1753. Lord Bath had brought in a Bill to
prevent clandestine marriages, which being very exceptionable,
a new one was ordered to be brought in by the Judges, and was
accordingly drawn up and warmly patronized by the Chancellor, and
as warmly, though ineffectually, opposed by the Duke of Bedford;
the whole Episcopal Bench consenting to the Act, though there
were several clauses which enjoined dissolution of marriage for
temporal reasons. In the House of Commons it was opposed by Fox
and Nugent; on the other hand, the Attorney-General, who had been
bred a Presbyterian, supported it, and applauded the conduct of
the Bishops, _who_, he said, _had at last reduced Christianity to
common sense_. This sentence occasioning great astonishment, he
softened it by adding, that he only meant that the Bishops had at
last consented to remove a superstructure, raised on the foundation
of the Gospel, which Christ and the Apostles had never projected,
it being only intended by the New Testament that marriages
contracted under the laws of the country should be indissoluble;
and that it was nowhere said that even the intervention of a priest
was essential to the validity of matrimony.

[129] Dr. Conyers Middleton, author of the Life of Cicero, of
the Inquiry into the Miraculous Powers, of an Examination of the
Bishop of London’s Letters on the Use and Intent of Prophecy,
and of several other celebrated works. Much was written against
him--nothing well; yet the University of Oxford bestowed the
degree of Doctor on two of his opponents. He died July 28, 1750;
and it was obvious how much personal prejudice had influenced his
antagonists, for after his death some tracts, which he had held too
offensive for publication, and much stronger against Christianity
than any of those he had published, were printed--and nobody wrote
against them!

[130] Dr. Thomas Herring, Archbishop of Canterbury. He died March
13, 1757.

[131] He died, after an illness of two hours, at his palace
in Chelsea, April 17, 1761. What is here said of his being
superannuated relates to the infirmities of his body, not of his
mind, he retaining his senses perfectly to the last.

[132] Dr. Butler, author of the Divine Analogy, &c. He died in
June, 1752.

[133] William Murray, brother to Lord Stormont, and to the titular
Earl of Dunbar, the Pretender’s first Minister. Pope’s Imitation of
_Nil Admirari_ is addressed to him. He was made Solicitor-General
soon after Sir Robert Walpole’s resignation.




CHAPTER VI.

  Conversation of the King with Mr. Fox on his Regency
  Bill--Some account of Lord Hardwick--The Pelhams determine
  to remove the Duke of Bedford and Lord Hardwick--Character
  of the Duke of Newcastle, and of Mr. Pelham--Sketch of Lord
  Granville, his former administration, and other events of
  1745--Mr. Winnington--The resigners restored--The King’s
  self-command--Character of George the Second, of the Duke
  of Grafton, and of Princess Emily--The Duke of Newcastle
  determines to remove his colleagues--The Duke of Bedford and Lord
  Sandwich--The Pelhams foment family disputes.


The day after the Committee in the House of Commons, the King said
aloud in the drawing-room at Kensington, that the amendments to
the præmunire clause were rightly made. The Chancellor answered,
“the insertion of the word _unlawfully_ was unnecessary.” “That,”
replied the King, “is a distinction only for lawyers to make.” Mr.
Pelham would have explained it to him in a low voice, but he would
talk upon it publicly.

About the same time, the King talking to Mr. Fox in his closet upon
the Bill, asked him, whom he would have made Regent? “Sir,” said
Mr. Fox, “I never thought I should be asked, and therefore never
thought--if it was impossible the Duke should!” The King replied,
“My affection was there;” but avoided talking on the impossibility.
He assumed to himself the chief direction of the Bill, and added,
“I have a good opinion of the Princess, but I don’t quite know
her.” He then spoke largely and sensibly on the restrictions, and
gave reasons for them. “That a Council was necessary for her, even
in cases of treason: women are apt to pardon; I myself am always
inclined to mercy; it is better to have somebody to refuse for her.
As to the power of peace and war, I never would declare either
without consulting others. And as to the objection of the Council
being irremoveable, who knows it will be composed of the present
people? It will be the Ministers I shall leave: had you rather
have those I shall leave, or have the Princess at liberty to go
and put in Lord Cobham or Lord Egmont? What did you say against
the Bill?--do you like it? tell me honestly.” Fox answered, “If
you ask me, sir--no. What I said against it was, because what was
said for it was against the Duke.” The King told him, “I thank you
for that: my affection is with my son: I assure you, Mr. Fox, I
like you the better for wishing well to him. The English nation is
so changeable! I don’t know why they dislike him. It is brought
about by the Scotch, the Jacobites, and the English that don’t love
discipline; and by all this not being enough discouraged by the
Ministry.”

To complete the history of this memorable Bill, I shall subjoin
some account of its author.

Sir Philip Yorke, Baron of Hardwick, and Lord Chancellor, was
* * * * the son of an attorney at Dover. He was a creature of the
Duke of Newcastle, and by him introduced to Sir Robert Walpole,
who contributed to his grandeur and baseness, in giving him an
opportunity of displaying the extent of the latter, by raising
him to the height of the former. He had good parts, which he laid
out so entirely upon the Law in the first part of his life, that
they were of little use to him afterwards, when he would have
applied them to more general views. He was Attorney-General, and
when the Solicitor Talbot was, after a contest, preferred to him
for the Chancellorship (the contest lay between their precedence,
for Talbot was as able a man, and an honest one), Sir Robert
Walpole made Yorke Chief-Justice for life, and greatly encreased
the salary. Talbot dying in a short time after his advancement,
to the great grief of all good men, Yorke[134] succeeded. In his
Chief-Justiceship he had gained the reputation of humanity, by
some solemn speeches made on the Circuit, at the condemnation
of wretches for low crimes; a character he lost with some when
he sat as Lord High Steward at the trials of the Scotch Lords,
the meanness of his birth breaking out in insolent acrimony. On
his promotion, he flung himself into politics; but as he had no
knowledge of foreign affairs, but what were whispered to him by
Newcastle, he made a very poor figure.

In the House of Lords, he was laughed at; in the Cabinet,
despised.[135] On the Queen’s death, he went deep into the Duke’s
shallow scheme of governing the King by the Princess Emily; for
this cabal thought that he must necessarily be ruled by a woman,
because the Queen was one, not considering it was because she was
a wise one. This scheme was to be built on the ruin of Sir Robert
Walpole, who had no other trouble to make it miscarry than in
making the King say “_Pho!_” to the first advice this junto gave
him. Their next plot was deeper laid, and had more effect: by a
confederacy with the chiefs of the Opposition, they overturned Sir
Robert Walpole; and in a little time, the few of their associates
that they had admitted to share the spoils. When Yorke had left
none but his friends in the Ministry, he was easily the most
eminent for abilities. His exceeding parsimony was qualified by his
severity to and discouragement of usurers and gamesters; at least,
he endeavoured to suppress that species of avarice that exists by
supplying and encouraging extravagance. The best thing that can be
remembered of the Chancellor is his fidelity to his patron; for let
the Duke of Newcastle betray whom he would, the Chancellor always
stuck to him in his perfidy, and was only not false to the falsest
of mankind.

The Pelhams having thus secured the duration of their power by Act
of Parliament, determined at least to remove every object that
gave any interruption or uneasiness to their enjoyment of it. It
will not easily be understood how the Duke of Bedford and Lord
Sandwich, who were the present objects of offence, could give them
any uneasiness. The latter was willing to submit to any indignities
to keep his place; and the former neither had, nor pretended to any
power, though Secretary of State. No measure, foreign or domestic,
but was transacted without his participation. So far from having
had any share in the nomination of Officers and Governors to the
young Prince of Wales, the Duke of Bedford was not even told he was
to have any, nor acquainted when they were actually appointed. He
was not consulted upon any one step of the Regency Bill; only when
it was entirely resolved, and had been actually communicated to the
Cabinet Council, at which Lord Sandwich, his friend, was present,
the Chancellor went to impart it to him at his own house, where he
was confined with the gout. Indeed, at first he was pleased with
this farce of attention, till his friends pointed out the insult of
it. Notwithstanding all this submission, the Duke of Newcastle had
no peace till they were removed. As he had no cause from _their_
characters, we must seek it in his own; and to show the force of
his jealousy, it will be necessary to give a deduction of his
several treacheries.

He succeeded young to an estate of about thirty thousand pounds a
year, and to great influence and interest in several counties. This
account in reality contains his whole character as a Minister; for
to the weight of this fortune he solely owed his every-other-way
most unwarrantable elevation. His being heir to his uncle, the
old Duke of Newcastle, obtained from the Crown a new creation
of the title in his person; and, though he was far from having
parts to procure him a Peerage, his Peerage and vast income
procured him the first posts in the Government. His person was
not naturally despicable; his incapacity, his mean soul, and the
general low opinion of him, grew to make it appear ridiculous. A
constant hurry in his walk, a restlessness of place, a borrowed
importance, and real insignificance, gave him the perpetual air
of a solicitor, though he was perpetually solicited; for he never
conferred a favour till it was wrested from him, but often omitted
doing what he most wished done. This disquiet and habit of never
finishing, which, too, proceeded frequently from his beginning
everything twenty times over, gave rise to a famous _bon mot_ of
Lord Wilmington,--a man as unapt to attempt saying a good thing, as
to say one. He said, “the Duke of Newcastle always loses half an
hour in the morning, which he is running after the rest of the day
without being able to overtake it.”

He early distinguished himself for the House of Hanover, and in the
last years of Queen Anne retained a great mob of people to halloo
in that cause. He and his brother Harry raised a troop for King
George on the Preston Rebellion, where the latter gave proofs of
personal courage. The Duke was rewarded with the Garter, and some
time after made Lord Chamberlain. The late King chose him for the
honour of being Godfather to a new-born son of the Prince of Wales,
which his Royal Highness much disapproving, was the immediate cause
of that famous breach in the Royal Family, when the Prince and
Princess left the palace very late at night. On Lord Carteret’s
being sent into honourable banishment as Lord Lieutenant of
Ireland, by the power of Lord Townshend and Sir Robert Walpole, the
latter proposed to make the Duke of Newcastle Secretary of State,
having experienced how troublesome a man of parts was in that
office. The Viscount’s first wife having been the Duke’s sister
was another reason for their depending the more on his attachment
to them; but that very relation had given Lord Townshend too many
opportunities of discovering how little he was to be trusted,
particularly from his having betrayed Lord Sunderland, his first
patron, to Lord Townshend, who earnestly objected to the choice of
him, and endeavoured to convince Sir Robert Walpole how much his
falsehood would give an edge to his incapacity. As the disagreement
increased between those two Ministers, the Duke in every instance
betrayed his brother-in-law to Sir Robert. The Viscount was not of
Walpole’s forgiving temper, and was immediately for discarding the
Duke. He pressed both King and Queen to it; exclaimed against his
childishness and weakness, and insisted upon his dismission as the
only terms of reconciliation with Sir Robert. The King, who always
hated him, easily yielded to make Sir Paul Methuen Secretary of
State in his room; but the greater power of Sir Robert with the
Queen (whose policy had long been employed in keeping open the
breach, in order to govern both), saved the Duke for future scenes
of perfidy[136] and ingratitude.

Towards the decline of Sir Robert Walpole’s Ministry, the Duke of
Newcastle, who feared to fall with him, and hoped to rise upon
his ruins, dealt largely with the Opposition, to compass both.
The late Duke of Argyle, after that Minister’s defeat, and his
own disappointment in not succeeding to a greater portion of
power, commissioned his brother, Lord Islay, to tell Sir Robert,
that the Duke of Newcastle and the Chancellor had long been in
league with himself and Lord Granville to effect his ruin. Lord
Granville was scarce warm in power before Newcastle betrayed
him to Lord Chesterfield; and the latter having introduced Lord
Sandwich, who was sent Minister to the Hague, this young statesman
and the Duke of Newcastle kept the secrets of his own office from
Lord Harrington, who had been restored to the place of Secretary
of State, for the assistance he had lent in overturning Lord
Granville. On Lord Harrington’s discovering and resenting this
treachery, the Seals were given to Lord Chesterfield; but he being,
like his predecessors, excluded from all trust the moment he had
a right to be trusted, soon resigned them. The Duke of Newcastle,
who had newly entered into connexions with the Duke of Bedford,
(as he and his brother did successively with every chief of a
faction, till they had taken out their stings by dividing them from
their party, and then discarded them) wished to give the Seals
to Murray, who was, or to Pitt, who was canvassing to be, his
creature; but the Duke of Bedford abruptly and positively insisted
on having them--and had [them, together with] their constant
perquisites,--the Duke of Newcastle’s suspicions and treachery.

The Duke of Newcastle had no pride, though infinite self-love:
jealousy was the great source of all his faults. He always caressed
his enemies, to list them against his friends; there was no service
he would not do for either, till either was above being served by
him: then he would suspect they did not love him enough; for the
moment they had every reason to love him, he took every method to
obtain their hate, by exerting all his power for their ruin. There
was no expense to which he was not addicted, but generosity. His
houses, gardens, table, and equipage, swallowed immense treasures:
the sums he owed were only exceeded by those he wasted. He loved
business immoderately, yet was only always doing it, never did it.
His speeches in Council and Parliament were flowing and copious
of words, but empty and unmeaning: his professions extravagant,
for he would profess intentions of doing more service to many men,
than he even did hurt to others. Always inquisitive to know what
was said of him, he wasted in curiosity the time in which he might
have earned praise. He aimed at everything; endeavoured nothing.
Fear,[137] a ridiculous fear, was predominant in him; he would
venture the overthrow of the Government, and hazard his life and
fortunes rather than dare to open a letter that might discover a
plot. He was a Secretary of State without intelligence, a Duke
without money, a man of infinite intrigue, without secrecy or
policy, and a Minister despised and hated by his master, by all
parties and Ministers, without being turned out by any!

It may appear extraordinary that Mr. Pelham, who had not so much
levity in his character, should consent to be an accomplice in
his brother’s treacheries, especially as upon every interval of
rivalship, the Duke grew jealous of him. The truth was, that Mr.
Pelham, who had as much envy[138] in his temper, and still more
fondness for power, was willing to take advantage of his brother’s
fickleness, and reaped all the emolument without incurring the
odium of it. He had lived in friendship with Sir Robert Walpole,
Lord Chesterfield, and the Duke of Bedford; while his brother was
notoriously betraying them shrugged up his shoulders, condemned the
Duke, tried to make peace, but never failed to profit of their ruin
the moment it was accomplished. The falsehood and frivolousness of
their behaviour can never appear in a stronger light than it did
in the present instance, and in all the transactions that relate
to Lord Granville. That Lord had hurried into power on Sir Robert
Walpole’s disgrace, and declared he would be a Page of the Back
Stairs rather than ever quit the Court again. He had no sooner
quitted his party, who had long suspected him, than he openly
declared himself a protector of Sir Robert Walpole; and to give the
finishing stroke to his interest with the King, drove deep into
all his Majesty’s Hanoverian politics, persuaded, in spite of the
recent instance before his eyes, that whoever governed the King,
must govern the kingdom.

His person[139] was handsome, open, and engaging; his eloquence at
once rapid and pompous, and by the mixture, a little bombast.[140]
He was an extensive scholar, master of classic criticism, and of
all modern politics. He was precipitate in his manner, and rash in
his projects; but, though there was nothing he would not attempt,
he scarce ever took any measures necessary to the accomplishment.
He would profess amply, provoke indiscriminately, oblige seldom.
It is difficult to say whether he was oftener intoxicated by wine
or ambition: in fits of the former, he showed contempt for every
body; in rants of the latter, for truth. His genius was magnificent
and lofty; his heart without gall or friendship, for he never tried
to be revenged on his enemies, or to serve his friends. One of
the latter, Lord Chief-Justice Willes, being complimented on Lord
Granville’s return to Court, replied, “He my friend! He is nobody’s
friend: I will give you a proof. Sir Robert Walpole had promised me
to make my friend Clive one of the King’s Council; but too late! I
asked him to request it of Mr. Pelham, who promised, but did not
perform. When Lord Granville was in the height of his power, I one
day said to him, ‘My Lord, you are going to the King; do ask him
to make poor Clive one of his Council.’ He replied, ‘What is it
to me who is a Judge, or who a Bishop? It is my business to make
Kings and Emperors, and to maintain the balance of Europe.’ Willes
replied, ‘Then they who want to be Bishops and Judges will apply to
those who will submit to make it their business.’” I will mention
one other short instance of his style. When, during his power, he
had a mind to turn out the Chancellor, and prefer Willes, he said
to Mr. Pelham, “I made Willes Chief Justice.” “You may make him
more if you please, and perhaps will,” replied Mr. Pelham, “but I
thought Sir Robert Walpole made him Chief Justice.” “No, it was I:
I will tell you how: I knew him at Oxford; Queen Anne’s Ministry
had caught him scribbling libels: I had even then an interest with
men in power--I saved him from the pillory--now, you know, if he
had stood in the pillory, Sir Robert Walpole could never have made
him a Judge.”

He carried this extravagance into his whole behaviour: divided
Europe, portioned out the spoils of the King of Prussia, conquered
France--and all these visionary victories, without deigning to
cultivate the least interest in the House of Commons, where the
Pelhams were undermining like moles, and thinking as little of
Europe--as ever they did afterwards. Pitt, who was building fame by
attacking this Quixote Minister, received profuse incense from Mr.
Pelham; while Lord Granville kept no measures of decency with his
new associates. He treated the Duke of Newcastle, the Chancellor,
and Lord Harrington, with unmeasurable contempt, and would not
suffer their patience to be, what their tempers inclined them to
be, the humblest of his slaves. These men, who, if they had any
talents, had the greatest art that ever I knew at decrying those
they wanted to undo, soon kindled such a flame in the nation, that
the King was forced to part with his favourite, and all his airy
schemes of German glory. Lord Granville had endeavoured early, by
the intervention of Lord Hervey, to unite with Sir Robert Walpole,
but he absolutely declined it, being persuaded that Lord Granville
had connexions with the Pretender,[141] which, if he ever had, he
now and long since had undoubtedly broken off. In their distress
to get rid of their great antagonist, the Pelhams had recourse to
Sir Robert Walpole. I don’t know whether the Duke of Newcastle,
like another King-making Warwick, would not even have offered to
raise him again to the height from which he had tumbled him, had he
stipulated for any terms. Lord Orford, who the year before had by
his single interest prevented the rejection of the Hanover troops,
now came again to town, and having been instructed by John Selwyn,
who was dispatched to meet him upon the road, wrote a letter to the
King, which prevailed upon him to dismiss his Minister.

The Pelhams then entered into a coalition with the Duke of Bedford,
Lord Chesterfield, Pitt, and that faction, which went on tolerably
smooth, till Pitt’s impatience to be Secretary at War opened the
door to a new scene. Lord Bath and Lord Granville, who still
preserved connexions with the King, through the intervention of
my Lady Yarmouth, persuaded him not to admit that incendiary into
his closet. The Pelhams discovered from whence the rub came; and
growing apprehensive that as soon as the session should be closed,
and the Supplies completed, they should be discarded, not only
determined to resign their own places, but engaged the whole body
of the King’s Ministers and servants, down to the lowest clerks in
offices, in a league of throwing up their employments in order to
distress their master: and the whole nation, which for four years
together had seemed possessed with a madness of seizing places,
now ran into the opposite phrensy of quitting them--and must not
it be told:--or will it be credited, if it is told?--The period
they chose for this unwarrantable insult, was the height of a
Rebellion; the King was to be forced into compliance with their
views, or their allegiance was in a manner ready to be offered to
the competitor for his Crown, then actually wrestling for it in the
heart of his kingdom! A flagrancy of ingratitude and treachery not
to be paralleled, but by the behaviour of the Parliament at the
beginning of the Civil War, who connived at the Irish Rebellion, in
order to charge King Charles with fomenting it. What attention they
had already exerted for suppressing the Rebellion, appears from Sir
John Cope’s trial, where, in answer to his repeated memorials for
succours, and representations of the young Pretender being actually
in Scotland and in arms, the Council tell him, “That they are
unwilling to send him supplies, for fear of alarming people.”

This general banding of the King’s servants against him, joined to
Lord Granville’s neglect of all precaution to strengthen himself
by a party, had the desired effect. He had offered the Seals to
Willes but the very day of the execution of their scheme, who
prudently declined them. Winnington, though far from being a
friend to Mr. Pelham, and wishing well to Lord Granville, yet
understood his own interest too well to undertake the management of
the House of Commons, and was at last forced to mediate the parley
between the King and the mutineers. Lord Granville took the Seals,
which Lord Harrington had been the first to resign, and sent for
Lord Cholmondeley from Chester to take the others. This was[142]
a vain empty man, shoved up too high by his father-in-law, Sir
Robert Walpole, and fallen into contempt and obscurity by his own
extravagance and insufficiency. Lord Winchelsea,[143] who had been
at the head of the Admiralty on the first change, and the only man
who had raised his character (by his conduct at that Board) when
the rest of his friends had sunk theirs, was again named to that
dignity; and Lord Bath at last obtained that object of his every
passion, the government of the Treasury. The other employments they
had not time to fill up, for on the third day of this meteor-like
Ministry, no volunteers coming in, business at a stand, the nation
in astonishment, and the Parliament in indignation, the two Lords
were forced to tell the King, that he must once more part with
them, and submit to his old governors. Lord Granville left St.
James’s laughing; Lord Bath slipped down the back stairs, leaving
Lord Carlisle in the outward room, expecting to be called in to
kiss hands for the Privy Seal.

The King sent for Winnington, and commissioned him to invite the
deserters to return to their posts. Winnington[144] had been bred
a Tory, but had left them in the height of Sir Robert Walpole’s
power: when that Minister sunk, he had injudiciously, and to please
my Lady Townshend, who had then the greatest influence over him,
declined visiting him in a manner to offend the steady old Whigs;
and his jolly way of laughing at his own want of principles had
revolted all the graver sort, who thought deficiency of honesty
too sacred and profitable a commodity to be profaned and turned
into ridicule. He had infinitely more wit than any man I ever knew,
and it was as ready and quick as it was constant and unmeditated.
His style was a little brutal; his courage not at all so; his
good-humour inexhaustible: it was impossible to hate or to trust
him. He died soon after by the ignorance of a quack,[145] when he
stood in the fairest point of rising, to the great satisfaction of
Mr. Pelham, whom he rivalled and despised.

The _ligue_, who had retired for no other end, did not make
the King expect them long. Lord Harrington alone, when Mr.
Pelham announced to him the summons for their return, said, “Go
back!--yes, but not without conditions.” One was, that Lord
Granville should give up the promise of the Garter; which he
did--but got while out of place, and saw Lord Harrington sacrificed
to the King’s resentments.

The King had fewer sensations of revenge, or at least knew how to
hoard them better than any man who ever sat upon a Throne. The
insults he experienced from his own, and those obliged servants,
never provoked him enough to make him venture the repose of his
people, or his own. If any object of his hate fell in his way, he
did not pique himself upon heroic forgiveness, but would indulge
it at the expence of his integrity, though not of his safety.
He was reckoned strictly honest; but the burning his father’s
will[146] must be an indelible blot upon his memory; as a much
later instance of his refusing to pardon a young man[147] who had
been condemned at Oxford for a most trifling forgery, contrary to
all example when recommended to mercy by the Judge; merely because
Willes, who was attached to the Prince of Wales, had tried him, and
assured him his pardon, will stamp his name with cruelty, though
in general his disposition was merciful, if the offence was not
murder. His avarice was much less equivocal than his courage: he
had distinguished the latter early;[148] it grew more doubtful
afterwards: the former he distinguished very near as soon,[149]
and never deviated from it. His understanding was not near so
deficient, as it was imagined; but though his character changed
extremely in the world, it was without foundation; for [whether] he
deserved to be so much ridiculed as he had been in the former part
of his reign, or so respected as in the latter, he was consistent
in himself, and uniformly meritorious or absurd.

His other passions were, Germany, the Army,[150] and women. Both
the latter had a mixture of parade in them: he [treated] my Lady
Suffolk, and afterwards Lady Yarmouth, as his mistresses, while
he admired only the Queen; and never described what he thought a
handsome woman, but he drew her picture. Lady Suffolk[151] was
sensible, artful, and agreeable, but had neither sense nor art
enough to make him think her so agreeable as his wife. When she had
left him, tired of acting the mistress, while she had in reality
all the slights of a wife, and no interest with him, the Opposition
affected to cry up her virtue, and the obligations the King had to
her for consenting to seem his mistress, while in reality she had
confined him to mere friendship--a ridiculous pretence, as he was
the last man in the world to have taste for talking sentiments,
and that with a woman who was deaf![152] Lady Yarmouth[153] was
inoffensive, and attentive only to pleasing him, and to selling
Peerages whenever she had an opportunity. The Queen had been
admired and happy for governing him by address; it was not then
known how easily he was to be governed by fear.

Indeed there were few arts by which he was not governed at some
time or other of his life; for not to mention the late Duke of
Argyle, who grew a favourite by imposing himself upon him for
brave; nor Lord Wilmington,[154] who imposed himself upon him for
the Lord knows what; the Queen governed him by dissimulation,
by affected tenderness and deference:[155] Sir Robert Walpole by
abilities and influence in the House of Commons; Lord Granville by
flattering him in his German politics; the Duke of Newcastle by
teazing and betraying him; Mr. Pelham by bullying him,--the only
man by whom Mr. Pelham was not bullied himself. Who indeed had
not sometimes weight with the King, except his children and his
mistresses? With them he maintained all the reserve and majesty of
his rank. He had the haughtiness of Henry the Eighth, without his
spirit; the avarice of Henry the Seventh, without his exactions;
the indignities of Charles the First, without his bigotry for his
prerogative; the vexations of King William, with as little skill in
the management of parties; and the gross gallantry of his father,
without his goodnature or his honesty:--he might, perhaps, have
been honest, if he had never hated his father, or had ever loved
his son.

Of all the resigners, the Duke of Grafton had treated his master
with the greatest decency: he had retired to hunt, according to his
custom, on the first scent of a storm; and it was with the greatest
reluctance that he was forced to declare himself for any Ministry
that was in a disputable situation: nothing could have forced him
to it but the inequality of the dispute. When he went into the
closet, he told the King, as if laughing at those he sided with,
“Sir, I am come to direct you who shall be your Minister.”

The Duke of Grafton[156] was a very extraordinary man; with very
good common sense and knowledge of mankind, he contrived to be
generally thought a fool, and by being thought so, contrived to
be always well at Court, and to have it not remarked that he was
so: yet he would sometimes boast of having been a short time in
Opposition, and of having early resolved never to be so again.
He had a lofty person, with great dignity; great slowness in
his delivery, which he managed with humour. He had the greatest
penetration in finding out the foibles of men that ever I knew,
and wit in teazing them. He was insensible to misfortunes of
his own[157] or of his friends: understood the Court perfectly,
and looking upon himself as of the Blood Royal, he thought
nothing ought to affect him, but what touched them: as he had no
opportunity of forsaking them for a family to which he was more
nearly related, one must not say he would have forsaken them:
betraying was never his talent; he was content to be ungrateful,
when his benefactors were grown unhappy. He was careless of his
fortune, and provided against nothing but a storm that might remove
him from his station. An instance once broke out of his having
ambition to something more than barely adorning the Court. On the
Queen’s death, whom he always hated, teazed, yet praised to the
King, he was imprudent enough in a private conversation with Sir
Robert Walpole and the Duke of Newcastle, to dispute with the
latter, whose the power should be, both silently agreeing, fools as
they were, in his very presence, that it was no longer to be Sir
Robert’s. Grafton thinking to honour him enough by letting him
act under him, said at last in a great passion to t’other Duke,
“My Lord, sole Minister I am not capable of being; first Minister,
by G--, I will be.” The foundation of either’s hopes lay in their
credit with Princess Emily, who was suspected of having been as
kind to Grafton’s love, as she would have been unkind in yielding
to Newcastle’s, who made exceeding bustle about her, but was always
bad at executing all business. The Queen had in reality a thorough
aversion to the Duke of Grafton for the liberties he took with
one of her great blood; and if she had not been prevented by Sir
Robert Walpole, would one night have complained to the King, when
the Princess and the Duke, who hunted two or three times a week
together, had staid out unusually late, lost their attendants,
and gone together to a private house in Windsor Forest. The Queen
hated him too for letting her see he knew her. He always teazed
her, and insisted that she loved nobody. He had got a story of some
Prince in Germany,[158] that she had been in love with before her
marriage: “G--, madam,” he used to say, “I wish I could have seen
that man that you _could_ love!” “Why,” replied she, “do you think
I don’t love the King?” “G--, I wish I was King of France, and I
would be sure whether you do or not!”

Princess Emily detached herself from that cabal, and united with
her brother the Duke and the Bedfords. She was meanly inquisitive
into what did not relate to her, and foolishly communicative
of what was below her to know: false without trying to please,
mischievous with more design, impertinent even where she had no
resentment; and insolent, though she had lost her beauty, and
acquired no power. After her father’s death, she lived with great
dignity; but being entirely slighted by her nephew, who was afraid
of her frankness, she soon forbore going to Court or to keep a
Drawing-room herself, on pretence of her increased deafness.
She was extremely deaf, and very short-sighted; yet had so much
quickness and conception, that she seemed to hear and see more
readily than others. She was an excellent mistress to her servants,
steady to her favourites, and nobly generous and charitable.

When the Pelhams were returned to Court, they for some time sat but
loose in the King’s affections. The Duke of Newcastle had long been
used to be called names by his master; and of whatever breach of
duty he was guilty, he took care to submit with patience to abuse
from his Sovereign. Mr. Pelham having more pride, was more resty
under ill treatment, and soon threatened again to resign. The King,
who would not venture again suddenly to be making Ministers upon
his own authority, asked him who he wished should succeed him? He
said peevishly, “Winnington.” “No,” said the King; “you know he is
too much your friend.” “I had rather,” replied Mr. Pelham, “you
would give my place to Lord Granville than keep it.” “That is
better still!” said the King; “you make it impossible for him to
have it, and then want me to give it to him!”

If that three-days’ Ministry had lasted, Lord Hartington, as
errant a bigot to the Pelham faction as ever Jacques Clement was
to the Jesuits, had offered to impeach Lord Granville--so soon
had Sir Robert Walpole’s friends forgot the abhorrence they had
expressed for the motion to remove him without a cause; and so
little do the silly bravos of a party foresee how soon they may be
brought to adopt and refine upon the most unjustifiable excesses of
their antagonists! This new violence was the more odious than its
precedent, as here was a man to be impeached only because he was
going to be an unpopular Minister! In four years, Lord Granville
and Lord Hartington came into place together!

The Duke of Newcastle, who had conquered every obstacle to power,
but the aversion of his master, began to think he might as well
add his favour to the other attributes of a Minister; and having
overturned Lord Granville for his German adulation, was so
equitable as to make the King amends by giving into all excess of
it himself. There was one impediment; he had never been out of
England, and dreaded the sea. After having consulted his numerous
band of physicians[159] and apothecaries, he at last ventured;
and himself and his gold plate,[160] and his mad Duchess, under
a thousand various convoys, treated Europe with a more ridiculous
spectacle than any it had seen since Caligula’s cockle-shell
triumph.

He was now at the height of his wishes, but was still unsatisfied.
The connexion of the Duke with Lord Sandwich, and through him
with the Duke of Bedford, had given him the uneasiness that was
mentioned at the beginning of these Memoirs; and the Prince’s death
having smoothed all opposition, it was determined by the brothers
in their Cabinet Council, to dismiss their rivals, whose interest
in the House of Commons could now turn no scale into which it
might be thrown. The measure was taken to remove Lord Sandwich,
and thereby provoke the Duke of Bedford to resign; or to give
the latter some more insignificant post, as Master of the Horse,
President of the Council, or Master of the Ordnance. Mr. Fox, who
saw the insult that was aimed at the Duke, endeavoured as much as
possible to save his honour, by persuading the Duke of Bedford to
acquiesce in the latter plan, as he would have more opportunities
of crossing his enemies while he staid at Court, than probability
of returning thither if once totally removed. Lord Sandwich
laboured the same point, and even hoped to be overlooked if he
could persuade the Duke of Bedford to accept one of the other less
obnoxious employments; but the Duke was swayed to the contrary
opinion.

He was a man of inflexible honesty, and good-will to his country:
his great economy was called avarice; if it was so, it was blended
with more generosity and goodness than that passion will commonly
unite with. His parts were certainly far from shining, and yet
he spoke readily, and upon trade, well: his foible was speaking
upon every subject, and imagining he understood it, as he must
have done, by inspiration. He was always governed; generally by
the Duchess,[161] though immeasurably obstinate, when once he
had formed or had an opinion instilled into him. His manner was
impetuous, of which he was so little sensible, that being told
Lord Halifax was to succeed him, he said, “He is too warm and
overbearing; the King will never endure him.” If the Duke of
Bedford could have thought less well of himself, the world would
probably have thought better of him.

His friend Lord Sandwich[162] was of a very different character;
in nothing more than in the inflexibility of his honesty. The Duke
of Bedford loved money, to use it sensibly and with kindness to
others; Lord Sandwich was rapacious, but extravagant when it was to
promote his own designs. His industry to carry any point he had in
view was so remarkable, that for a long time the world mistook it
for abilities; but as his manner was most awkward and unpolished,
so his talents were but slight, when it was necessary to exert them
in any higher light than in art and intrigue. The King had never
forgiven his indecent reflections[163] upon the Electorate when
he was in Opposition, and as soon as ever he found his Ministers
would permit him to show his resentment, he took all occasions to
pay his court to them by treating Lord Sandwich ill, particularly
by talking to Lord Anson before him on all matters relating to
the fleet. An incident (one should have thought quite foreign to
the Administration) contributed to give the King a new handle to
use Lord Sandwich with indignity: the Bedfords had transacted a
marriage between one of the Duchess’s sisters[164] and Colonel
Waldegrave, against the consent of her father, Lord Gower; and
Lord Sandwich had been so imprudent as to let the ceremony be
performed at his apartments at the Admiralty. The Pelhams, who
always inoculated private quarrels on affairs of state, dispatched
my Lord Gower to ask a formal audience of the King, and complain of
Lord Sandwich’s contributing to steal his daughter. Lord Gower[165]
was a comely man of form, had never had any sense, and was now
superannuated. He had been educated a stiff Jacobite, elected
their chief on his first coming into the King’s service, and had
twice taken the Privy Seal before he could determine to change his
principles. The King entered into his quarrel; and the Pelhams by
this artifice detached him from his family, and persuaded him that
to resign with them would be sacrificing himself in the cause of
Lord Sandwich, who had offered him such an indignity.

When Lord Sandwich found his disgrace unavoidable, and even had
got intelligence of the day on which he was to be dismissed, he
endeavoured by his own solicitations, and by the interposition of
the Duke, to prevail on the Duke of Bedford to throw up the Seals
first. This finesse, which did not succeed, was calculated to
prevent the appearance of the Duke of Bedford’s resigning upon his
account, and consequently the new obligations to be laid upon him
by that measure: governing that Duke no longer, he chose to be no
longer connected with him; but Bedford now would neither stay in,
nor go out by his advice.


FOOTNOTES:

[134] A story is current, that Sir Robert, finding it difficult to
prevail on Yorke to quit a place for life for the higher but more
precarious dignity of Chancellor, worked upon his jealousy, and
said, that if he persisted in refusing the Seals, he must offer
them to Fazakerley. “Fazakerley!” exclaimed Yorke; “impossible!
he is certainly a Tory, perhaps a Jacobite.” “It’s all very
true,” replied Sir Robert, taking out his watch, “but if by one
o’clock you do not accept my offer, Fazakerley by two becomes Lord
Keeper of the Great Seal, and one of the _staunchest Whigs in all
England_.” Yorke took the Seals and the Peerage.--E.

[135] Yet, in the course of the work, the author laments Lord
Hardwick’s influence in Cabinets, where he would have us believe he
was despised, and acknowledges that he exercised a dominion nearly
absolute over that House of Parliament, which, he would persuade
his readers, laughed at him. The truth is, that wherever that
great magistrate is mentioned, Lord Orford’s resentments blind his
judgment, and disfigure his narrative.--E.

[136] Sir R. Walpole often said of the Duke of Newcastle, “His name
is Perfidy.” (Vide Appendix.)

[137] He never lay in a room alone; when the Duchess was ill, his
footman lay in a pallet by him.

[138] An instance of it: after Sir Robert Walpole was out, he often
pressed Mr. Pelham to take care of Sturt, who had been employed in
Spain, which he neglecting, Sir Robert said one day to Mr. Pelham,
“Here has been poor Sturt with me.” Mr. Pelham could not help
interrupting him, and crying out, “G-- d-- the rascal! what does he
come to _you_ for?”

[139] John Carteret, Earl of Granville, was early distinguished
in business, and sent Embassador to Denmark, and made Secretary
of State when very young; but attempting to undermine Sir Robert
Walpole, he was removed to the Lieutenancy of Ireland, and
afterwards entirely laid aside. He became the principal speaker
against the Court in the House of Lords; but towards the end of
that Opposition, he was compelled by his associates, who suspected
that he was negotiating a peace for himself, to make the famous
motion for removing Sir Robert Walpole, on whose fall he was again
made Secretary of State.

[140] In one of his speeches upon the war with Spain, he said, “We
were entering upon a war that would be stained with the blood of
Kings, and washed with the tears of Queens!” It was in ridicule of
this rant, that Sir Charles Williams, in an unfinished poem, called
the “Pandemonium,” where he introduced orations in the style of the
chief speakers of the Opposition, concluded Lord Granville’s with
the following line, at the close of a prophetic view of the ravages
of the war,

  “And Visiers’ heads came rolling down Constantinople’s streets.”


[141] Sir Robert Walpole used to relate the following passage. When
Lord Granville was Secretary of State the first time, the Ministry
had made some discoveries into the schemes of the Jacobites, and
at a meeting at the Cockpit, determined to take up the Lord North
and Grey, who was deeply engaged. The instant the meeting broke up,
which was very late at night, Lord Granville rode away post all
alone to Epping Forest, where that Lord lived, to give him notice;
and when the messengers arrived soon afterwards to apprehend him,
he was fled.

[142] George, Earl of Cholmondeley, married Mary, daughter to
Sir Robert Walpole. He was Knight of the Bath, and Lord of the
Admiralty, and then Master of the Horse to the Prince of Wales; but
resigning that post on the rupture between the King and Prince, he
was made Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, Lord Privy Seal on
the resignation of Lord Gower, which place he was forced to give
back on the coalition, and was appointed joint Vice-Treasurer of
Ireland.

[143] Daniel Finch, Earl of Winchelsea and Nottingham.

[144] Thomas Winnington was first made Lord of the Admiralty, then
of the Treasury, then Cofferer, and lastly Paymaster of the Forces,
when Mr. Pelham was raised to the head of the Treasury.

[145] Dr. Thompson, who blooded and purged him to death in a very
few days, for a very slight rheumatism. Several pamphlets were
published on this case.

[146] [For an account of this curious transaction, see the author’s
Reminiscences in the fourth volume of his printed works.]--E.

It is said that there was a large legacy to his sister, the Queen
of Prussia, which was the original cause of the inveteracy between
the King and his nephew, the present King of Prussia.

[147] Paul Wells, executed at Oxford, Sept. 1, 1749, for the
following, scarce to be called forgery:--Being sued by a Mrs.
Crooke for a debt of only nine pounds odd money, he altered the
date of the year in the bond to the ensuing year, to evade the suit
for twelve months.--Vide an authentic account of his life, by a
gentleman of C. C. C. Oxon.

[148] At the battle of Oudenarde.

[149] Soon after his first arrival in England, Mrs. ****, one of
the bedchamber women, with whom he was in love, seeing him count
his money over very often, said to him, “Sir, I can bear it no
longer; if you count your money once more, I will leave the room.”

[150] He was nicknamed by the Jacobites, _the Captain_.

[151] Henrietta, daughter of Sir Henry Hobart, and sister of John,
the first Earl of Buckinghamshire, of that family.--(Vide Appendix.)

[152] A relation of Cheselden the surgeon was condemned to be
hanged; Cheselden proposed, if the King would pardon him, to take
out the drum of his ear, in order to try what effect it would have;
and if it succeeded, the experiment was to be repeated on my Lady
Suffolk. The man was pardoned--the operation never tried!

[153] Amelia Sophia, wife of the Baron of Walmoden, created
Countess of Yarmouth. She had a son by the King, who went by
the name of Monsieur Louis, but he was not owned. The day Lord
Chesterfield kissed hands on his being appointed Secretary of
State, after so long an absence from Court, he met Sir William
Russel, one of the Pages, in the antechamber of St. James’s, and
began to make him a thousand compliments and excuses for not having
been yet to wait on him and his mamma; the boy heard him with great
tranquillity. When the speech was at an end, he said, “My Lord, I
believe you scarce designed all these honours for me. I suppose you
took me for Monsieur Louis!”

[154] Sir Spencer Compton, son of the Earl of Northampton, was
Speaker of the House of Commons and Knight of the Bath in the reign
of King George the First. On the accession of the present King,
when Sir Robert Walpole went to receive his orders, he bad him go
for them to Sir Spencer Compton. This was a plain declaration! The
first business was to prepare the new King’s speech to his Privy
Council, which the new Minister was so little able to draw, that he
was forced to apply for it to the old one, who drew it--willingly,
it may be believed; and the Queen knew how to make the request and
condescension have their effects. He was then created Baron, and
afterwards Earl of Wilmington and Knight of the Garter, and made
President of the Council. On the resignation of Sir Robert Walpole,
he succeeded him as First Lord of the Treasury, with the new
Commissioners, but had so little influence even at that Board, that
Sandys, Rushout, and Gybbon, used to put the disposal of places to
the vote, and carry them against him and his nephew Compton. He
died in about a year and a half after he had been raised to this
uneasy situation. He was the most formal solemn man in the world,
but a great lover of private debauchery: after missing the first
Ministership, he entered into a secret league with Mr. Pulteney,
which Sir R. Walpole discovered by the means of Mr. Pulteney’s
gentleman, who betrayed to him the letter he was carrying from his
master to Lord Wilmington. As this was soon after a treaty between
them, Lord Wilmington was much shocked when Sir Robert reproached
him with it, and continued so steady for the future, that when the
famous motion was made against that Minister, he went to vote in
the House of Lords with a blister on his head, after having been
confined to his bed for some days with a fever.

[155] She always affected, if anybody was present, to act (and he
liked she should) the humble ignorant wife, that never meddled with
politics. Even if Sir Robert Walpole came in to talk of business,
which she had previously settled with him, she would rise up,
curtsey, and offer to retire; the King generally bad her stay,
sometimes not. She and Sir Robert played him into one another’s
hands. He would refuse to take the advice of the one, and then
when the other talked to him again upon the same point, he would
give the reasons for it which had been suggested to him: nay, he
would sometimes produce as his own, at another conversation to the
same person, the reasons which he had refused to listen to when
given him. He has said to Sir Robert, on the curtseys of the Queen,
“There, you see how much I am governed by my wife, as they say I
am! Hoh! hoh! it is a fine thing indeed to be governed by one’s
wife!” “Oh! sir,” replied the Queen, “I must be vain indeed to
pretend to govern your Majesty!”

[156] Charles Fitzroy, the second Duke of Grafton, Lord Chamberlain
and Knight of the Garter, grandson to Charles the Second. He died
May 6, 1757, aged 78.

[157] All his three sons died before him.

[158] It was the Duke of Saxe Gotha, father of the Princess of
Wales.

[159] It is scarce credible what sums he spent on doctors and
apothecaries, besides other emoluments bestowed on them. Mr.
Graham’s foreman was taken into the family, with the grant of an
ample place in the revenue; Dr. Shaw had an annuity of £400 per
annum, till another place of £700 per annum should fall in, with
the reversion of the latter for his son.

[160] It was generally in pawn, and only fetched out on festival
occasions. On its return from this journey to Hanover, it was
landed in Yorkshire, whither a party of Dragoons were sent to
convoy it to London.

[161] Gertrude Leveson Gower, eldest daughter of Earl Gower, second
wife of this John Duke of Bedford.

[162] John Montagu, Earl of Sandwich, made a Lord of the
Admiralty on the coalition, and First Lord, on the Duke of
Bedford’s being appointed Secretary of State. He signed the
peace of Aix-la-Chapelle. [He was First Lord during Lord North’s
administration, and died 1792. Our author disparages his abilities.
He was a lively, sensible man, attentive to business, and not a bad
speaker in Parliament.]--E.

[163] On the Debate in the House of Lords on the Hanover troops, he
made a comparison between taking the Hanoverians into the pay of
England, and the French taking the troops of the Duke John Frederic
into their pay in 1672; and used these words,--“That _little_
Prince would have duped Lewis Fourteenth; but he treated him like a
_little_ Prince, and would not accept his troops but upon his own
terms.”

[164] Lady Elizabeth Leveson Gower, Lady of the Bedchamber to
Princess Emily, married to John Waldegrave, brother to Earl
Waldegrave, and Groom of the Bedchamber to the King.

[165] John Leveson Gower, Baron Gower, was elected President of
the Board (the Jacobite meeting) in 1742, on the death of the Earl
of Lichfield, while he was Lord Privy Seal, which he resigned soon
after; but came into the same place again on the coalition, and was
some time after created an Earl.




CHAPTER VII.

  Change of the Ministry--Character of Mr. Legge--The Duke
  of Bedford has an audience--He declines office--Further
  appointments--Lord Anson--The Duke of Devonshire and
  Lord Hartington--The Whigs satisfied--Character of Lord
  Holderness--Murray released--The Princess delivered of a
  posthumous child--Discovery of Lyttelton’s letter--Foreign
  affairs--The Marquis de Mirepoix--Character of Sir Charles
  Hanbury Williams--Death of the Prince of Orange--Princess
  of Orange--Debates on Privilege--Illness of the Duke of
  Cumberland--Debate on the army estimates--Affairs of
  France--Death of Lord Bolingbroke--The characters of Sir Robert
  Walpole and Bolingbroke--Death of the Queen of Denmark--Walpole
  and Pelham.


June 13th.--The Duke of Newcastle wrote to Lord Sandwich, that the
King had no farther occasion for his service; and in the evening
sent Mr. Legge to acquaint the Duke of Bedford with the dismission
of his friend. Legge was a younger son of Lord Dartmouth, who had
early turned him into the world to make his fortune, which he
pursued with an uncommon assiduity of duty. Avarice or flattery,
application or ingratitude, nothing came amiss that might raise
him on the ruins of either friends or enemies; indeed, neither
were so to him, but by the proportion of their power. He had been
introduced to Sir Robert Walpole by his second son, and soon
grew an immeasurable favourite, till endeavouring to steal his
patron’s daughter,[166] at which in truth Sir Robert’s partiality
for him had seemed to connive, he was discarded entirely; yet taken
care[167] of in the very last hours of that Minister’s power;
and though removed from the Secretaryship of the Treasury, being
particularly obnoxious to Lord Bath, he obtained a profitable
employment[168] by the grossest supplications[169] to the Duke of
Bedford; and was soon after admitted into the Admiralty by as gross
court paid to Lord Winchelsea, whom he used ill the moment he found
it necessary to worship that less intense but more surely-rising
sun, Mr. Pelham. He had a peculiarity of wit and very shrewd parts,
but was a dry and generally an indifferent speaker. On a chosen
embassy to the King of Prussia, Legge was duped and ill-treated
by him. Having shuffled for some time between Mr. Pelham, Pitt,
the Duke of Bedford, and Lord Sandwich, and wriggled through the
interest of all into the Treasury, and then to the Treasurership of
the Navy, he submitted to break his connexions with the two latter
by being the indecent messenger of Lord Sandwich’s disgrace. The
Duke met him on the steps of Bedford-house (as he was going to Lord
Gower to know what part he would take on this crisis) and would
scarce give him audience; but even that short interview could not
save Legge from the confusion he felt at his own policy; and with
the awkwardness that conscience will give even to an ambassador, he
said, he had happened, as he was just going out of town, to visit
the Duke of Newcastle, where he had not been in two months before,
and had been requested by him to be the bearer of this notification.

The Duke of Bedford, who carried Lord Trentham with him, found Lord
Gower in no humour to resign with him; on the contrary, enraged
at his son, who told him he could not serve under Lord Anson, the
new head of the Admiralty. “Sir,” said his father, “he is your
superior; he is a Peer.” “Who made him so?” replied Lord Trentham.
Lord Gower told the Duke of Bedford that he had listed all his
children against him; and threatened Lord Trentham to disinherit
him of all that was in his power; who told him in pretty plain
terms, how much he was a dupe to the Pelhams; and after many high
words, they both left him.

When the Duke of Bedford arrived at Kensington, he found none of
the opposite faction but Lord Lincoln, whom he desired to acquaint
the Duke of Newcastle with what he was going to say to the King.
“Tell him, my Lord, because perhaps he would not like to come in
and hear it; I shall neither say more or less for his presence
or absence. If he comes into the closet and begins to dispute,
I will not altercate with him there; I will afterwards wherever
he pleases.” When he went in to the King, he spoke above an hour
warmly and sensibly on his own grievances, particularly on the Duke
of Dorset being designed Lord Lieutenant for six months before he
was made acquainted with it; on his relation, Lord Hartington,
being named in the same manner for the Master of the Horse, and
called up to the House of Peers, for which he had that very morning
kissed hands; on the dismission of his friend Lord Sandwich;
and on all the treacheries of the Duke of Newcastle, which he
recapitulated, and the scenes of mischief which Mr. Pelham had been
acting in Lord Gower’s family: and he concluded with telling the
King, that their persecution of him and Lord Sandwich arose solely
from their attachment to his son the Duke; and then desired leave
to resign the Seals. The King was struck and pleased with this
remonstrance; agreed to all he had said of the Duke of Newcastle;
doubted of the facts charged on Mr. Pelham; and with regard to
Lord Sandwich, only said, “I don’t know how it is, but he has very
few friends.” He told the Duke of Bedford, that if he was uneasy
in his present post, he would give him that of President; but the
Duke said it was impossible for him to act with the two brothers.
He begged three reversions in the Secretary’s office for his two
secretaries, Mr. Leveson and Mr. Aldworth, and his steward Butcher;
to which the King deferred giving an answer till next day, but
then granted them; and parted with him with particular marks of
favour and approbation.

As soon as the Duke of Bedford had resigned, Lord Trentham sent
his resignation in a very explicit letter to Mr. Pelham, in which
he spoke warmly on malicious people who had prejudiced his father
against him. Mr. Pelham, who could neither avoid doing wrong nor
bear to be told of it, was inconceivably stung with this reproach;
and as if shifting off the consequence would clear him from being
the cause, he would have waved accepting the resignation, sending
Lord Trentham word that he was misinstructed in sending it to him,
who had no authority to receive it, but yet was sorry for what he
was doing.

17th.--Lord Granville was appointed President of the Council,
Lord Hartington Master of the Horse, Lord Albemarle Groom of
the Stole, Lord Anson First Lord, and the Admirals Boscawen and
Rowley Commissioners of the Admiralty; the latter attached to Lord
Granville, the other to nothing but his own opinion. He was on the
worst terms with Anson, who had carried off all the glory of the
victory at Cape Finisterre, though Boscawen had done the service,
and whom he suspected of having sent him on the impracticable
expedition to Pondicherry on purpose to ruin him. Lord Anson was
reserved and proud, and so ignorant of the world, that Sir Charles
Williams said he had been round it, but never in it. He had been
strictly united with the Duke of Bedford and Lord Sandwich, but
not having the same command of his ambition that he had of his
other passions, he had not been able to refuse the offer of the
Chancellor’s daughter, nor the direction of the Admiralty.

Lord Hartington, and his father, the Duke of Devonshire,[170]
were the fashionable models of goodness, though their chief merit
was a habit of caution. The Duke’s outside was unpolished, his
inside unpolishable. The Marquis was more fashioned, but with an
impatience to do everything, and a fear to do nothing. Sir Robert
Walpole had set up the father as the standard of Whiggism; in
gratitude, he was constantly bigoted to whoever passed for head
of the Whigs: but the dexterity of raising his son to so eminent
a post as Master of the Horse during his own life, and obtaining
a Peerage for his own son-in-law,[171] by retiring from power
himself, extremely lessened the value of the rough diamond[172]
that he had hitherto contrived to be thought.[173]

However, the Whigs were so satisfied with the promotion of Lord
Hartington, that they overlooked the conjunction of Lord Granville,
though so little time had passed since they had been enrolled in
a crusade against him; and it would have been difficult for the
Pelhams to have told what they had done to give Lord Granville a
higher opinion of them, or what he had done to give them a lower
opinion of him: what had happened to make him feel less contempt
for them; or they to see less danger in him. So little reason had
they to expect better union with him, that when he was wished joy
on their reconciliation, he replied, “I am the King’s President;
I know nothing of the Pelhams; I have nothing to do with them.”
The very day he kissed hands, he told Lord D ****, one of the
dirtiest of their creatures, “Well, my Lord, here is the common
enemy returned!” Nugent, the Sancho Pança of this Quixote, began to
beat up for volunteers for him; and himself made large overtures to
Fox, desired to have some private conversation with him at Holland
House, and told him he would reconcile himself to the Duke. Fox
replied, “They have paved your way.” Lord Granville the next day
repeated this conversation to Mr. Pelham, with the only difference
of inverting the persons of the speakers, and ascribing to Fox
all the overtures that had come from himself. Two or three of his
inferior dependents were promoted, but no mention made of his
fellow martyrs.

On the 18th appeared the last and greatest phenomenon, Lord
Holderness,[174] who had been fetched from his Embassy in Holland
to be Secretary of State. In reality, he did justice to himself and
his patrons, for he seemed ashamed of being made so considerable,
for no reason but because he was so inconsiderable. He had a
formality in his manner that would have given an air of truth to
what he said, if he would but have assisted it with the least
regard to probability; but this made his narrations harmless, for
they were totally incredible. His passion for directing operas and
masquerades was rather thought a contradiction to his gravity,
than below his understanding, which was so very moderate, that no
relation of his own exploits would, not a little time before, have
been sooner credited, than his being made Secretary of State. What
contributed a little to make the King consent to this wonderful
promotion was his mother, Lady Fitzwalter, being distantly related
to the Royal Family. The Queen and Princesses always talked to her
in French, though she had never been out of England, because her
ancestors came originally from Germany.

When the King delivered the Seals to Lord Holderness in the
presence of the Duke of Newcastle, he charged him to mind only the
business of his province; telling him that of late the Secretary’s
office had been turned into a mere office of faction. The Duke of
Newcastle, who understood the reprimand, and Lord Holderness, who
did not, complained equally of the lecture. The former could not
well complain of any direct chiding; for the King, who had parted
with the Duke of Bedford, to quiet his wayward humour, to revenge
the Duke of Bedford would not speak to the Duke of Newcastle for
some weeks; an excuse he made advantage of pleading to the Duke
of Marlborough, who had solicited for a Prebend of Windsor; and
to Lord Halifax, who was pushing to get the West Indies entirely
subjected to the Board of Trade, and to be nominated a third
Secretary of State for that quarter of the world. As Lord Halifax
persisted in this demand, and the Duke of Newcastle did not care
to push the King any further, especially in the tender article of
new appointments, Lord Holderness was made to taste of the servile
uses for which he was introduced, and ordered to solicit the King
to take so fair a feather from his own command as the direction of
the West Indies; but for this time the Monarch would not, and Lord
Halifax, after many vain threats, was forced to yield. He was[175]
a man of moderate sense, and of great application to raise the
credit of his employment; but warm, overbearing, and ignorant of
the world.[176]

25th.--The King put an end to the Session. The Speaker touched
but gently and artfully on the Regency Bill; enough to show his
disapprobation, and not enough to reflect on the decision of the
House; praying for the King’s life, because of the difficulties
in which the Princess would be involved in a Regency without
Sovereignty.

The instant the Parliament was prorogued, the two Sheriffs of
London--I forget their names--accompanied by Lord Carpenter and Sir
George Vandeput, went to Newgate, released Murray, and conducted
him in paltry triumph to his own house. On the 28th, his case,
scurrilously written by one Whitehead,[177] a factious poet, was
published, for which the printer was taken into custody.

IN JULY, the posthumous child of which the Princess was delivered
was christened. The Prince had affected to baptize all his children
by popular names; but his wife being more prolific than the English
history, in heroes and heroines, the Edwards and Elizabeths
were exhausted, and he had been forced to go back as far as the
Conqueror’s daughter. The King would not suffer the last Princess
to be called Matilda,[178] but now, out of regard to his son’s
memory, indulged it.

Soon after the Prince died, an unlucky discovery had been made.
George Lyttelton had written a lamentation, on that occasion, to
his father,[179] an antiquated Baronet in Worcestershire, telling
him that he and his friends had just renewed their connexions with
the Prince of Wales, by the mediation of Dr. Ayscough, which,
though not ripe for discovery, was the true secret of their
oblique behaviour this session in Parliament. This letter he had
delivered to a gentleman’s servant, who was going into that county;
but the fellow having some other letters for the post, had by
mistake given in the private negotiation, which was only subscribed
_To Sir Thomas Lyttelton_. It was opened at the Post-office, and
carried to Mr. Pelham. Had it been seen by no other person, the
secret had been safe, and the treachery concealed, as carefully
as if he had been in the conspiracy himself, instead of being the
object of it; but it was talked of from the Post-office, though
obscurely for some time, till at last it was nursed up somehow or
other, and arrived at the King’s ears, who grew outrageous, and
could not be hindered from examining Shelvocke, the Secretary of
the Post-office, himself. Here he got very little further light;
for Shelvocke had been instructed to affirm that the letter was
sent back to Mr. Lyttelton, unopened; but Lyttelton, who had not
been so well instructed in his own secret, avowed it; and as if
there were nothing to be ashamed of but the discovery, he took
pains to palliate no other part of the story.

Absurdity was predominant in Lyttelton’s composition: it entered
equally into his politics, his apologies, his public pretences,
his private conversations. With the figure of a spectre, and the
gesticulations of a puppet, he talked heroics through his nose,
made declamations at a visit, and played at cards with scraps of
history, or sentences of Pindar. He had set out on a poetical love
plan, though with nothing of a lover but absence of mind, and
nothing of poet but absence of meaning; yet he was far from wanting
parts; spoke well when he had studied his speeches; and loved to
reward and promote merit in others. His political apostasy was
as flagrant as Pitt’s: the latter gloried in it: but Lyttelton,
when he had been forced to quit virtue, took up religion, and
endeavoured to persuade mankind that he had just fixed his views
on heaven, when he had gone the greatest lengths to promote his
earthly interest; and so finished was his absurdity, that he was
capable of believing himself honest and agreeable.

In the beginning of September came news of the birth of a Duke
of Burgundy; an event of the greatest moment to France, but not
received with their usual transports. The Court had disgusted the
clergy, by demanding an account of their revenues. The priests,
equally ready at contriving or imputing an imposture, persuaded
half the nation that the child was spurious; and to drive off the
war from their own quarters, endeavoured to light up or to lay the
foundation of a general war in the kingdom. The English Prelates
sent Harry the Fifth to the conquest of France, to prevent a
scrutiny of the same nature.

The same courier brought the Marquis de Mirepoix a patent of Duke.
He was much esteemed in England, having little of the manners
of his country, where he had seldom lived; and except a passion
which he retained for dancing, and for the gracefulness of his own
figure, there was nothing in his character that did not fall in
naturally enough with the seriousness of the English and German
Courts,[180] where he had been Ambassador; nor any quickness of
parts that could have made him offensive, if our Ministry had been
inclined to take exceptions. Their suspicions seldom ascended to
enemies really formidable. They bore with General Wall,[181] an
artful Irishman, Ambassador from Spain, and who but last year had
clandestinely sent thither several of our woollen manufacturers.
Greater insults were shown to us at Paris and Berlin, where Marshal
Keith and Lord Tyrconnel, two outlawed Jacobites, were reciprocally
Ambassadors. Indeed, it was a constant war of piques and affronts
between the King and his nephew of Prussia. The latter had insisted
upon the recall of Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, who had sacrificed
to the ruling passion of the uncle, by treating the character of
the Prussian King, in his public dispatches and private letters, in
the strongest terms of satire.[182] He returned to Dresden, where,
about this time, he concluded a subsidiary treaty with the King
of Poland, to engage his vote for the Archduke Joseph to be King
of the Romans--the darling object of the ambition of the Court of
Vienna, and the common gulph of our profuse politics. The King of
Prussia openly, the French underhand, opposed the election. The
very opposition of the latter had a politic effect, as the longer
it remained in suspense, the longer would be the duration of our
extravagance. In one of the King of Prussia’s rescripts, he taxed
the King, whom he called the last and youngest of the Electors,
with violating both his oath and the Golden Bull.

Sir Charles Hanbury Williams had been attached to Mr. Winnington,
and was the particular friend of Fox. Towards the end of Sir Robert
Walpole’s power, they, Lord Hervey and Lord Ilchester, had forced
the last into the Secretaryship of the Treasury, against the
inclination of the Minister; an instance at that time unparalleled;
much copied since, as the Government has fallen into weaker hands.
Sir Charles remained a steady friend to Walpole, and persecuted
his rival, Lord Bath, in a succession of satiric odes, that did
more execution in six months, than the Craftsman had done in twice
the number of years; for the Minister only lost his power, but the
patriot his character. If Sir Charles had many superiors in poetry,
he had none in the wit of his poetry. In conversation he was less
natural, and overbearing: hated with the greatest good-nature,
and the most disinterested generosity; for fools dreaded his
satire--few forgave his vanity. He had thrown up his place on
some disgusts; the loss of Mr. Winnington, and a quarrel with the
Irish, occasioned by an ode[183] he wrote on the marriage of the
Duchess of Manchester and Mr. Hussey, fomented by Lord Bath and his
enemies, and supported with too little spirit, had driven him to
shelter his discontents in a Foreign Embassy, where he displayed
great talents for negotiation, and pleased as much by his letters,
as he had formerly by his poetry.[184]

On the 13th of the following month, an express arrived of the death
of the Prince of Orange, who, having been at Aix la Chapelle,
caught a fever on his return, and died in five days.

He had long been kept out of all share in the government, like his
predecessor, King William; like him, lifted to it in a tumultuous
manner, on his country being overrun by the French; and the
Stad-holdership made hereditary in his family before they had time
to experience how little he was qualified to re-establish their
affairs. Not that he wanted genius, but he was vain and positive,
a trifling lover of show, and not master of the great lights
in which he stood. The Princess Royal was more positive, and,
though passionately imperious, had dashed all opportunities that
presented for the Prince’s distinguishing himself, from immoderate
jealousy and fondness for his person. Yet the Mars who was locked
in the arms of this Venus, was a monster so deformed, that when
the King had chosen him for his son-in-law, he could not help, in
the honesty of his heart, and the coarseness of his expression,
telling the Princess how hideous a bridegroom she was to expect,
and even gave her permission to refuse. She replied, she would
marry him if he was a baboon. Well then, said the King, there is
baboon enough for you!

The Princess immediately took the oaths as _Gouvernante_ to her
son, and all orders of men submitted to her as quietly as in a
monarchy of the most established duration; though the opposite
faction was numerous, and she herself lethargic and in a very
precarious state of health. Lord Holderness was sent to condole
and advise her. She, who had long been on ill terms with, and now
dreaded the appearance of being governed by her father, received
the Ambassador and three letters written with the King’s own hand,
in the haughtiest and most slighting manner. Lord Holderness was
recalled in anger. The Princess, equally unfit to govern, or to be
governed, threw herself into the arms of France, by the management
of one Dubacq, a little Secretary, who had long been instilling
advice into her, to draw her husband from the influence of Monsieur
Bentinck and the Greffier, the known partizans of England; the
former of whom, immediately after the death of the Prince, refused
to admit Dubacq to a Council, to which she had called him, with the
chiefs of the Republic, at the House in the Wood.

The Princess Royal was accomplished in languages, painting, and
particularly music; the Queen, and the King too, before their
rupture, had great opinion of her understanding; but the pride of
her race, and the violence of her passions[185] had left but a
scanty sphere for her judgment to exert itself.

November 14.--The Parliament met. Lord Coventry, and Lord
Willoughby, of Parham, moved the Address in the House of Lords;
Lord Downe and Sir William Beauchamp Proctor in the Commons. Sir
John Cotton objected to the words _our flourishing condition_; but
that was the only breath of opposition.

On the 18th, there was a meeting at the Speaker’s, to consult on
punishing the Sheriffs for their insolent behaviour on the delivery
of Murray; but they came to no resolution, except on remanding
Murray to his imprisonment. Accordingly, on the 20th, Lord Coke
moved to have the former votes on him read, and then to revive
them. He spoke well, and treated Murray and the Sheriffs with great
contempt. Lord Coke[186] had ready parts, a great memory, great
Whig zeal. There was too much pomp in his turn, and vehemence in
the expression of his dislikes, which were chiefly now directed
against the Scotch, who had persecuted him bitterly, on a quarrel
with his wife, a daughter of the late Duke of Argyle. He was on ill
terms too with Mr. Pelham, and had intended to have opened on the
neglect shown to the old Whigs; but his friend, Lord Hartington,
the officious tool to Mr. Pelham’s ingratitude, had been with him
that morning, and persuaded him to drop so general an attack.
Lord Duplin seconded him. Sydenham opposed, and Lord Egmont,[187]
who spoke with great caution, and apologized for undertaking the
cause, was against unnecessary asperity; [he] said, “This man had
demonstrated the insufficiency of the power of the House; that his
imprisonment would not put a stop to pamphlets; that the public,
who cannot judge as the House of Commons does, would think the
whole an election matter--a point in which they are most jealous;
that Murray had already suffered greatly; that to revive the
sentence would be inflicting banishment, which will be no further
voluntary, than as he will prefer it to imprisonment. That the
sentence must be renewed every session; and that the Commons,
though but a third part of the Legislature, would be exerting
the power of banishment, which is unknown to the Crown itself.
That such a stretch of authority would be doubly unpopular, after
enacting a continuation of the Parliament by the Regency Bill last
session. That in one point you had set yourselves a precedent of
moderation by slighting the second set of Queries, after censuring
the first, though the second attacked both King and Parliament;
the first only the Duke. That contempt had stopped the progress
of those libels; that contempt such as Lord Coke’s would be the
properest treatment of Murray. That this prosecution can’t be
pursued without some injustice, as it must be stopped somewhere,
and it will be unjust not to proceed as far hereafter on any
election complaint:” and then after a definition of true and false
honour, he moved to adjourn.

Lord Coke replied in few but masterly words; defined true and false
moderation, and said, “That true moderation is becoming when the
culprit submits, but that it is _parvi animique pusilli_ not to
persecute a criminal who plumes himself on his defiance, and is the
patron of a lost, fallen, unanimated cause!” Mr. Pelham commended
both speeches, and added, “If the House has not all the authority
it wishes, it ought at least to exert all it has.” The Motion
for adjournment was rejected, and the resumption of the sentence
agreed to without a division. Lord Coke then moved, that Murray
should receive the sentence on his knees; and that the pamphlet
called _his Case_ might be read, which was unanimously voted a
false, scandalous, and seditious libel; and then Lord Coke moved
to address the King to order the Attorney-General to prosecute the
author, printer, and publishers; adding, that he would not move any
censure on the Sheriffs, but hoped it would be a warning to the
City what Magistrates they choose. Sir John Barnard was to have
made their submission, if any vote had been proposed against them.

The 22nd, Lord Barrington moved that the number of seamen for the
ensuing year should be increased to ten thousand, and said archly,
“That he did not intend to defend the change of his own opinion,
but of those who ought to preserve a political steadiness in their
conduct; that he did not think so large a number always necessary,
but circumstances made them so now.” The Bedfords and Sandwichs
were removed; the Pitts and the Lytteltons were to be cajoled, and
so ten thousand became necessary. They were voted.

The 25th, Lord Coke moved to call the Serjeant-at-Arms, who
reported that Murray was absconded. Lord Coke moved for a
proclamation and reward for apprehending him, which Vyner and
Sydenham opposed, and the latter made a speech worthy the ages
of fanaticism, comparing Murray to Prophet Daniel, who would not
kneel to Nebuchadnezzar’s Idol, and alleged the example of the
Dissenters, who do not kneel at the Sacrament. Alderman Jansen
defended the City, on which Lord Coke had reflected, and said,
“That to have touched the Sheriffs would have raised a tumult.” A
reward of five hundred pounds for apprehending Murray was voted on
a division of 98 to 26.

The Duke had a fall as he was hunting at Windsor, was taken up
speechless, and refusing to be blooded, grew dangerously ill with
a pain in his side, and was given over by the physicians; but
recovered. The King was inexpressibly alarmed, wept over him, and
told everybody that was in his confidence, that the nation would be
undone, left to nothing but a woman and children! He said to Mr.
Fox of the Duke, “He has a head to guide, to rule, and to direct;”
and always talked as if the Duke was to be sole Regent. Mr. Fox
repeated this to him, who said, the King had talked to him himself
in the same strain. “Why then, sir,” replied Mr. Fox, “don’t you
just put him in mind, in those fits of tenderness, of what he has
done to prevent your being so?” He replied, “That it was now too
late to remedy; that the Regency Bill could not be repealed, and
that even if it could, he had rather bear the ignominy that had
been laid upon him, than venture giving the King the uneasiness of
reflecting, if it were but for two hours in his own room, on the
injury he had done him.”

Mr. Pelham was uneasy at Mr. Fox’s being admitted to the Duke in
his illness, when he was excluded. The Duke asked Fox afterwards
how the brothers had behaved during that crisis. He replied, “Both
cried: the Duke of Newcastle over-acted it, but Mr. Pelham seemed
really concerned.”--“Ay,” said the Duke, “I know they both cried;
for the Duke of Newcastle, he cried, because he had not been in the
morning to know how I did--but for Mr. Pelham, he is such a fellow,
that I can believe he was in earnest!”

The 27th, Mr. Fox in the committee proposed the same army as last
year, _as there was no alteration of circumstances_; Sir John
Cotton to reduce it to fifteen thousand; and was seconded by
Northey, Beckford, Prowse, Thornton, Norris, Bertie, and Robinson.
Cotton was answered by William Lyttelton; as Beckford (who had
wished that the Army had committed outrages, in order to have
the nation sensible of the dangers from it) was by Dr. Lee, who,
to palliate the change of his style, was so injudicious as to
insist that the situation of affairs was highly altered by the
deaths of the Prince and the Prince of Orange, and the birth of
the Duke of Burgundy. Lord Egmont, who found himself almost alone
in opposition, made a very artful speech; said, “He had hoped to
have heard some answer from the Ministry to Sir John Cotton’s
arguments; that for his own part, he should be very gentle, as it
was not a time to provoke a power that nothing could resist, but
should coolly ask for an answer. He ridiculed Dr. Lee with great
delicacy and compliments; knew that he had _reason_ for what he
did; and that he had _great views_, and overlooked small ones,
and that such principles would justify little deviations. Yet if
the dreaded event of a possible minority should come to pass, it
would always be easy to call troops from Ireland, where, and by
the number of officers, you always have the root of an Army. That
to facilitate the assembly of one, the Parliament will be sitting:
that the Ministry ought to affect to show the good disposition of
Government, now everything is so quiet; and that such a display
of tenderness to the subject would produce real security. He made
a strong panegyric on the King, but said those good principles of
his Majesty were prevented from being exerted by his Ministers, who
govern by force in a reign that has given no pretence for it. That
if any one of them would act constitutionally, he would support
that man in spite of little reflections; and would extend his hand
in defence, where he had never extended it, if once the Government
would quit this road of rigour. That the death of the Prince of
Orange could be no argument for maintaining so large an Army; we
cannot govern Holland; that indeed were the Dutch strong, and in
a more flourishing situation, it might be a reason, when we might
give and receive mutual assistance. But for the pretence of the
birth of a Duke of Burgundy, nothing could be more ridiculous; no
argument more absurd than the birth of Foreign Princes; or than
our increasing our Army whenever there is an heir to the Crown of
France.”

He asked, “in what period of our history the Crown had so much
power? That in 1646, when the Army had conquered King and
Parliament, they voted but 6000 men necessary. Yet, treble as the
present Army is desired, he would offer a composition, which, if
accepted, he would vote for the present plan within 900 men: he
would offer it to one (Mr. Pelham) not used to negotiate in public;
would make a treaty, without one secret article; and would promise
peace for one year,--a term as long as any modern treaty is likely
to last. The condition was, that the Ministry should consent to
reduce the Cavalry, and omit the Staff, which would create a
saving of 143,000_l._ He urged that the King had shown by a former
reduction, that, though he ought not to be without Guards and marks
of sovereignty, he despises show. That the Grenadiers may still be
kept up to attend on the King’s person; but he wished to break the
Guards and the regiment of Blues. And he concluded with saying,
that though he had no hopes of delivering the nation from the
danger, yet he wished to rescue it from the expense of the Army,
which cost very near as much as that immense one of the King of
Prussia.”

Mr. Pelham replied in a very dull speech, “That he had seen no
force exerted by the Administration; and attempted to defend Dr.
Lee: that if the King dies, you have already provided for the
strength of the Government: will you now weaken it? that, whenever
the Army has been much reduced, tumults have immediately arisen.
France may be tempted to disturb you, without meaning to fix the
Pretender here: that she might even mean that; and that some who
heard him knew that there had been Jacobite meetings within the
last six months. That his fears from that quarter made him always
more earnest on the question of the Army, than upon any other; and
that he desired no overt act to convince him of the still real
existence of Jacobitism. That the reduction proposed was a poor
pittance if meant for economy. That, indeed, if it were worth
while, the Blues might be changed; he had not much objection to it,
though they had always had the title of Guards. That seventy men
are as much as one officer can command; that the Army had already
been reformed; a further reduction would be useless or dangerous,
and will be a heavier burthen where quartered, from want of more
officers.” The House divided at five, and voted the same Army by
180 to 43. Only Lord Middlesex and Martyn, of the late Prince’s
faction, voting with Lord Egmont and the Speaker.

About this time, France seemed threatened with a cloud of intestine
troubles. Louis the _well-beloved_ had outlived the flattery of
even French subjects. Verses,[188] recommending the assassination
of him, were pasted up on the Louvre and the Pont-Neuf. Yet, though
marked for destruction by his priests, it was with great difficulty
that Madame de Pompadour, his mistress, could divert the melancholy
cast of his mind from sinking into a habit of devotion. She
perpetually varied his pleasures, and carried him from one palace
and hunting seat to another,--journeys which cost immense sums, and
made the people join in the clamour which the Clergy had conjured
up. Gunpowder and some treasonable papers were found in the cradle
of the Duke of Burgundy. The Dauphin, a dull, bigoted Prince, was
zealously attached to his mother, and had hazarded brutalities to
the mistress, which the King bore with great indulgence. It did
not break out into factions, as the domestic quarrels of the Royal
Family had done for two generations here in England, but appeared
in little marks and distinctions, such as different manners of
wearing the Cordon, &c. among the creatures of either Court. In the
midst of these uneasinesses, a new flame broke out. The Archbishop
of Paris was a favourite, having made his court even at the expense
of his brethren the clergy. The hospitals had always been managed
with so much integrity as to become the most creditable fund for
charity; the Parliament directed them. The Archbishop endeavoured
to arrogate the sole command of them to himself: the King supported
his pretensions. The Parliament having in vain remonstrated,
concurred to throw up their employments; and though they submitted
to resume their functions, it was not without having inspired the
Court with a temper of moderation, which is as seldom learnt by
despotic Kings, as such firmness is seldom practised by Parliaments
renowned for far greater liberties.

December 4th.--Mr. Pelham opened the Land Tax of three shillings in
the pound; and recommended as his maxim _to preserve and improve
our situation, seldom to gain, and then our enemies will not be
offended_. Lord Harley and Beckford, with Vyner, Oglethorpe,
Robinson, Admiral Vernon, Sydenham, Thornton, and Cooke, (the sad
refuse of all the last Oppositions,) opposed it. So did Sir John
Barnard, who said, “He had declared two years ago, that, if the
peace continued, he would vote no more for three shillings; that
the peace was made because our Allies had not contributed equally
to the expense of the war; and he proposed a wild scheme of tying
down 600,000_l._ a year, out of the Sinking Fund, to pay the
National Debt, by which means, in fifty years, we should be able
to carry on as extensive a war as ever we ought to wage.” A scheme
by which, if strictly pursued, and a new war should intervene, we
should be paying off money borrowed at three per cent., while
obliged to borrow other money at five, six, or whatever interest
extortion should find it a proper season to demand. Lord Strange
spoke for the question. Sir John Cotton answered, “That country
gentlemen would indeed have very _little ease_,[189] if three
shillings land tax was thought necessary till our debts were
paid, as Lord Strange had said, and nobody had contradicted.” Mr.
Pelham said, “Lands sell better now than ever they had done, and
that luxury and election contests between neighbouring gentlemen
occasion the change of property.” Cotton replied, “The country
gentlemen had learnt from the report of the Secret Committee, that
the Court supports one side, and therefore they would grow more
wary.” They divided for two shillings, but it was carried for
three, by 176 to 50.

The next day, on the report, Sydenham made a lamentable speech,
affected to cry, and asked pardon for quoting a ludicrous epitaph
on so melancholy an occasion, but which he could not help thinking
applicable to the great Minister of these times, who has so
burthened land:--

      Lie heavy on him, Land; for he
      Laid many a heavy load on thee.

The 10th, the Mutiny Bill was read in the Committee. Lord Egmont
made some faint opposition on the old points; but not finding
himself supported, went away before the division, which was but 19
to 118. Sir Harry Erskine voted for the Bill, without mentioning
the clauses he had last year promised to bring in.

Lord Halifax had stayed in the country out of humour, having in
vain demanded to be made a Cabinet-Counsellor, as an introduction
to the Regency, and the Secretaryship for the West Indies. His
friend, Lord Barrington, was now sent to acquaint him that the King
persisted in a refusal, but might be brought to acquiesce in more
moderate demands. Lord Halifax came to town, protesting he would
resign, but was pacified with a promise of the West Indies being in
a great measure subjected to the Board of Trade.

The 12th died Lord Bolingbroke;[190] a man who will not be seen
in less extraordinary lights by posterity than he was by his
contemporaries, though for very different reasons. His own age
regarded him either as the greatest statesman, oppressed by
faction, and the greatest genius persecuted by envy; or as the most
consummate villain, preserved by clemency, and the most treacherous
politician, abandoned by all parties whom he had successively
betrayed. Posterity will look on him as the greatest philosopher
from Pope’s writings; or as an author of a bounded genius from his
own. To see him in a true light, they must neither regard all the
incense offered to him by Tories, nor credit all the opprobrium
cast on him by Whigs. They must see him compounded of all those
vices and virtues that so often enter into the nature of a great
genius, who is not one of the greatest.

Was it being master of no talents to have acted the second part,
when little more than a youth, in overturning such a Ministry,
and stemming such a tide of glory, as Lord Godolphin’s and the
Duke of Marlborough’s? Were there no abilities, after his
return from banishment, in holding such a power as Sir Robert
Walpole’s at bay for so many years, even when excluded from
the favourable opportunity of exerting his eloquence in either
House of Parliament? Was there no triumph in having chiefly
contributed to the fall of that Minister? Was there no glory in
directing the councils and operations of such men as Sir William
Windham, Lord Bath, and Lord Granville? And was there no art in
persuading the self-fondest and greatest of poets, that the writer
of the Craftsman was a more exalted genius than the author of
the Dunciad? Has he shown no address in palliating the exploded
treaty of Utrecht? Has he not, in his letters[191] on that event,
contrived to make assertions and hypothesis almost balance stubborn
facts?[192] To cover his own guilt, has he not diverted our
attention towards pity for the great enemy, in whose service he
betrayed his own country?

On the other hand, what infamy to have sold the conqueror to the
conquered! What ingratitude in labouring the ruin of a Minister,
who had repealed his sentence of banishment! What repeated treasons
to the Queen, whom he served; to the Pretender,[193] who had
received and countenanced him; to the late King, who had recalled
him! What ineffectual arts to acquire the confidence of the late
King, by means of the Duchess of Kendal, and of the present King,
by Lady Suffolk! What unwearied ambition, even at seventy years
of age, in laying a plan of future power[194] in the favour of
the Prince of Wales! What deficiency in the very parts that had
given success to the Opposition, to have left him alone excluded
from reaping the harvest of so many labours! What blackness in
disclosing the dirtiness of Pope,[195] who had deified him!
And what philosophy was that which had been initiated in the
ruin of the Catalans; had employed its meridian in labouring the
restoration of Popery and arbitrary power; and busied the end of
its career, first in planning factions in the Pretender’s Court, by
the scheme of the father’s resigning his claim to the son; and then
in sowing the seeds of division between a King and a Prince, who
had pardoned all his treasons!

Sir Robert Walpole and Lord Bolingbroke had set out rivals at
school, lived a life of competition,[196] and died much in the same
manner, provoked at being killed by empirics;[197] but with the
same difference in their manner of dying as had appeared in the
temper of their lives: the first with a calmness that was habitual
philosophy; the other with a rage that his affected philosophy
could not disguise. The one had seen his early ambition dashed with
imprisonment, from which he had shot into the sphere of his rival,
who was exiled, sentenced, recalled; while Walpole rose gradually
to the height of temperate power, maintained it by the force
of his single talents against Bolingbroke, assisted by all the
considerable geniuses of England; and when driven from it at last,
resigned it without a stain or a censure, and retired to a private
life, without an attempt to re-establish himself--almost without
a regret for what he had lost. The other, unquiet, unsteady,
shocked to owe his return to his enemy, more shocked to find his
return was not to power, incapable of tasting the retirement which
he made delightful to all who partook it, died at last with the
mortification of owing his greatest reputation to the studies
he had cultivated to distress his antagonist. Both were beloved
in private life; Sir Robert from the humanity and frankness of
his nature; Bolingbroke from his politeness of turn and elegance
of understanding. Both were fond of women; Walpole with little
delicacy; Bolingbroke to enjoy the delicacy of pleasure. Both
were extravagant; and the Patriot who accused, and the Minister
who had been accused of rapine, died poor or in debt. Walpole was
more amiable in his virtues; Bolingbroke more agreeable in his
vices.[198]

Cresset was made Treasurer to the Prince of Wales, in the room of
Mr. Selwyn, who died. Nich. Herbert succeeded him as Treasurer,
and Mr. Harding as Auditor to Princess Emily, who had wished to
give those places to William Leveson, Lord Gower’s brother, but
attached to the Duke of Bedford. Mr. Leveson applied to Mr. Pelham,
who insisted on his asking Lord Gower’s interest, which he refused
to do. Oswald, who, by the consent of Pitt, and the faction of
cousins, was to have kissed hands for Clerk of the Green Cloth to
the Prince of Wales, but two days before the Prince’s death, was
now made a Lord of Trade.

About the middle of this month, died his Majesty’s youngest
daughter, the Queen of Denmark, a Princess of great spirit
and sense, and in the flower of her age. Her death, which was
terrible, and after an operation which lasted an hour, resembled
her mother’s--a slight rupture which she concealed, and had been
occasioned by stooping when she was seven months gone with her
first child. The Queen had in a manner prophesied to her when she
was expiring herself: “Louisa, remember I die by being giddy, and
obstinate in having kept my disorder a secret!” Her fate, too,
had borne a resemblance to her mother’s; for the King of Denmark,
though passionately fond of her, to prevent the appearance of being
governed, had kept a mistress, and given her great uneasiness:
yet she never mentioned it in her confidential letters to her own
family. The Duke said, she had always told them, that if she was
unhappy, they should never know it. In her last moments, she wrote
a moving letter to the King, the Duke, and her sisters, to take
leave of them. This letter, and the similitude of hers and her
mother’s death, struck the King in the sharpest manner, and made
him break out into warm expressions of passion and tenderness. He
said, “This has been a fatal year to my family! I lost my eldest
son--but I am glad of it;--then the Prince of Orange died, and left
everything in confusion. Poor little Edward has been cut open (for
an imposthume in his side), and now the Queen of Denmark is gone!
I know I did not love my children when they were young; I hated to
have them running into my room; but now I love them as well as most
fathers.”

The 19th.--The Parliament adjourned; an era for ever remarkable in
English annals! Opposition, which had lasted from the days of Queen
Elizabeth, and even the distinctions of parties having in a manner
ceased at this period! Popery, which had harassed the reign of that
heroine; the spirit of liberty which had struggled against four
Stuarts; the spirit of slavery which had wrestled to restore their
descendants; all the factions which had distracted King William,
possessed Queen Anne, and ridiculed the House of Hanover; and the
Babel of parties that had united to demolish Walpole, and separated
again to pursue their private interests; all were now sunk into a
dull mercenary subjection to two brothers, whose administration
resembled that of King James for timidity, of King William for
change of Ministers, and of Queen Anne for an ignominious peace!
Buckingham had been attacked in the arms of King James; Laud and
Strafford beheaded; Hyde banished, though allied to the Crown; the
virtuous Somers impeached; the victorious Marlborough disgraced;
the favourite Walpole removed. Pelham alone could teach servility
to a Parliament, whose privileges were yet untouched!

In Sweden there seems the same indifference for liberty. Count
Tessin, the pattern of the British Minister, always affecting to
resign, always entreated by his creatures to retain his power,
is known to be meditating the restoration of absolute power. In
France, where the Crown is despotic, and the people bigoted to
whatever phantom is their King, there is a set of men, whose
remonstrances, steadiness, and patriotism would figure with any
senate, that Greece, Rome, or former Britain knew. But it is time
to conclude the history of this extraordinary year, all the chief
events of which having terminated in confirming the power of Mr.
Pelham, it will be proper, before I take leave of the reader, to
add this person’s portrait to those of the under-actors; and the
better to illustrate it, I shall take the liberty of examining his
and his master Sir Robert Walpole’s characters together, though
it is difficult to compare two Ministers, when on one side genius
must be entirely left out of the question: nor could anything draw
on a parallel between a man of genius and a man of none, but the
singular case of the latter having affected what the former could
not--I mean power without unpopularity.

When Elijah was hurried to heaven, he left his cloak to Elisha with
a _double_ portion of his spirit: but that legacy[199] in no sense
happened to Mr. Pelham, who was as much inferior to Sir Robert
Walpole in political courage as in abilities. Sir Robert Walpole
was bold, open, steady, never dejected; he would attempt for honest
ends where strict morality did not countenance his opinion; he
always disclosed his arts after they had effected his purpose; and
sometimes defeated them by too early discovery. He never gave up
his party to serve himself, though he has departed from his own
opinion to please his friends, who were serving themselves; nor did
he ever lose his cheerfulness, though he had hurt himself against
his opinion.

Mr. Pelham was timorous, reserved, fickle, apt to despair. He would
often not attempt when he was convinced it would be right; would
sooner hurt himself by not telling his mind, than attain his aim
by being communicative; and often gave up his party, indeed not to
serve himself, but his enemies, and frequently disappointed himself
of success, by never expecting to succeed. Presumption made Sir
Robert Walpole many enemies; want of confidence in himself kept
from Mr. Pelham many friends. Sir Robert Walpole was content to
have one great honest view, and would overlook or trample upon the
intermediate degrees. Mr. Pelham could never reach a great view,
by stumbling at little ones; he would scruple to give an hundred
pound to one opponent, and to buy off another would give up a
question[200] that might endanger the nation. Sir Robert Walpole
loved power so much, that he would not endure a rival; Mr. Pelham
loved it so well, that he would endure anything. The one would
risk his administration, by driving every considerable man from
Court, rather than venture their being well there; the other
would employ any means to take able men out of the Opposition,
though he ventured their engrossing his authority and outshining
his capacity; but he dreaded abuse more than competition, and
always bought off his enemies to avoid their satire, rather than to
acquire their support: whereas, Sir Robert Walpole never trading
but for members, and despising invectives, and dreading rivals,
gained but weak, uncertain assistance, and always kept up a
formidable Opposition. His apprehension of competitors was founded
on prudence, because great part of his authority depended upon
the King’s favour: Mr. Pelham owing nothing to that, had the less
reason to fear losing it; as he maintained himself in the Ministry
in spite of the King’s partiality to abler men, he had no reason to
be jealous of their getting interest at Court.

Sir Robert Walpole raised himself to the head of the
Administration, without interest, without fortune, without
alliances, and in defiance of the chiefs of his own party:[201]
he rose by the House of Commons--he fell by it. Mr. Pelham found
himself next upon the list, and was recommended to a strong party
by their leader. He would never have risen, had he had no other
foundation than the House of Commons, and would fall to-morrow if
he had no other support; for he must be undone whenever his safety
depends upon himself. Sir Robert Walpole’s eloquence was made for
use, and he never could shine but when it was necessary[202] he
should. He wanted art when he had no occasion for it; and never
pleased, but when he did more than please. I am not going to
contrast this part of their characters, nor to say that Mr. Pelham
only shone upon trifling and unnecessary occasions, for he did not
do even that; he was obscure upon the most trivial occurrences,
perplexed even when he had but one idea, and whenever he spoke
well, it was owing to his being heated; he must lose his temper
before he could exert his reason. Sir Robert Walpole palliated too
little, Mr. Pelham too much. The one would defend his errors by a
majority; the other with a greater majority would excuse his merit,
and would sooner obscure and depreciate his meaning when right and
clear of itself, than not apologize for it. Sir Robert Walpole
could not deviate but with openness and sincerity; the other
degraded truth by timidity, sense by mystery, and right by asking
pardon for it.

The one was honoured by his enemies, the other at best pitied
by his friends. His most prejudiced opponents[203] often grew
convinced that the former was in the right: the heartiest friends
of the latter knew he meant to be so, but never found stronger
reasons to confirm them in their opinion. The one durst do right
and durst do wrong too; the other dared either so little, that it
generally ended in his doing the latter. Sir Robert Walpole never
professed honesty, but followed it; Mr. Pelham always professed it,
and kept his word, when nothing happened to make him break it; and
then he broke it for some other honest end, though perhaps far from
being equally cogent.

Sir Robert Walpole’s mastery was understanding his own country,
and his foible, inattention to every other country, by which it
was impossible he could thoroughly understand his own. Mr. Pelham
understood more of his own country than of others, though he
would have made a better Minister for any other nation; for as he
would not have met with opposition or contradiction, two things
his nature could not bear, and as he meant exceedingly well, he
would have served the country that employed him to the best of
his understanding, and that might have cleared up as well as his
temper, when he had nothing to perplex it. In the knowledge of the
Revenue, he and all other men must yield to Sir R. Walpole, though
he and all other men make the same use of that knowledge, which is
to find new funds for the necessities of the Government, and for
the occasions of the Administration: by those occasions, I mean
corruption, in which I believe Mr. Pelham would never have wet his
finger, if Sir Robert Walpole had not dipped up to the elbow;
but as he did dip, and as Mr. Pelham was persuaded that it was as
necessary for him to be Minister as it was for Sir Robert Walpole,
he plunged as deep. The difference was, that Mr. Pelham always
bribed more largely as he had more power; for whenever it tottered,
he the less ventured to prop it by those means, as he was the more
afraid of being called to account for putting them in practice.

Sir Robert Walpole, with the greatest confidence of himself, had no
pride; Mr. Pelham had the most, with the least self-sufficience.
Both were loved in private life. Sir Robert Walpole loved
magnificence, and was generous to a fault: the other had neither
ostentation nor avarice, and yet had little generosity. The one was
profuse to his family and his friends, liberal indiscriminately,
unbounded to his tools and spies: the other loved his family
and his friends, and enriched them as often as he could steal
an opportunity from his extravagant bounty to his enemies and
antagonists. Indifferent people were too indifferent to him; and
for intelligence, it was one of the greatest blemishes of his
Administration, he wanted it so entirely--not resolution more! Sir
Robert Walpole’s friendships were chiefly confined to persons much
below him; Mr. Pelham’s were almost all founded on birth and rank:
the one was too familiar, the other never so. Sir Robert Walpole
was forgiving to a fault, if forgiveness can be faulty; Mr. Pelham
never forgave, but when he durst not resent. Sir Robert Walpole
met with much ingratitude; Mr. Pelham was guilty of much. Both were
frequently betrayed: Sir Robert Walpole without being deceived;
Mr. Pelham not half so often as he suspected it. The one was most
depreciated while he was Minister; the other will be most when he
ceases to be Minister. All men thought Mr. Pelham honest till he
was in power; the other never was thought so till he was out.

Both were fortunate in themselves, unhappy in their brothers.
With unbounded thirst for politics, the Duke of Newcastle and
Horace Walpole were wretched politicians: each inferior to their
brothers in everything laudable; each assuming and jealous of
their own credit, though [neither] the Duke nor Horace could ever
have been considerable, but by the fortune of their brothers. The
one childish and extravagant, the other a buffoon and avaricious;
Horace sunk into contempt when his brother fell with honour; the
Duke was often on the point of dragging his brother down, and was
the object of all contempt, even where his brother had still power
and honour. Mr. Pelham maintained his inferiority to Sir Robert
Walpole even in the worthlessness of his brother.

  “J’aye dict le mot, pour ne frustrer la postérité.”

      _H. Etienne, Apologie d’Herodote._


FOOTNOTES:

[166] Lady Maria Walpole, since married to Charles Churchill.

[167] He and Mr. Benjamin Keene had the reversion of a place in
the Revenue between them, after the death of the then Earl of
Scarborough.

[168] Surveyor of the King’s Woods and Forests.

[169] They are contained in two letters still preserved by the Duke
of Bedford.

[170] October 11, 1764.--Tuesday noon, an express arrived from the
Duke of Devonshire (Lord Hartington in the text), at the Spa in
Germany, which brought advice that his Grace was much better, and
that there were great hopes of his recovery; but these agreeable
hopes were soon damped by the arrival of Lord John Cavendish,
the Duke’s youngest brother, at seven o’clock the same night, at
Devonshire House, who brought the melancholy news, that his Grace
had relapsed, and departed this life the 3rd instant, at half an
hour past nine o’clock at night, at the above place.

His Grace was eldest son of William, late Duke of Devonshire, by
his Duchess Catherine, daughter and sole heir of John Hoskins,
Esq. In March, 1748, he married the Lady Charlotte Boyle, youngest
daughter and heiress of Richard, late Earl of Burlington, which
lady died in December, 1754, by whom he had issue,--1, William,
Marquis of Hartington, born in December, 1748, who is now the fifth
Duke of Devonshire, a minor, at Harrow school; 2, Lord Richard,
born June 19, 1752; 3, Lord George Henry, born in March, 1754; and
4, Lady Dorothy, born August 27, 1750.

His Grace, at the time of his decease, was Lord High Treasurer, and
a Privy Counsellor of Ireland, Governor of the county of Cork in
that kingdom; a Governor of the Charter-house, Fellow of the Royal
Society, and Knight of the Garter; but some time since had resigned
all his places on the British establishment. The many amiable and
truly excellent public and private virtues, and the very shining
accomplishments which his Grace possessed, added a lustre to his
high rank, and render his death a public loss.--(Public Journals.)

[171] Lord Duncannon, eldest son of the Earl of Besborough, who was
created an English Baron, was one of the Lords of the Admiralty.

[172] So Sir Robert Walpole called him.

[173] The above sarcastic remarks may be ascribed to a recent
family quarrel, in which the Duke of Devonshire and Lord Hartington
had sided with Horace Walpole, the uncle, against the nephew, the
author of these Memoirs. The injustice of them is sufficiently
proved by the estimation in which both these noblemen (especially
Lord Hartington) appear to have been held by their contemporaries,
and by the conduct of the latter even in delicate and difficult
times, as related by the author himself.--E.

[174] Robert Darcy, Earl of Holderness, Lord of the Bedchamber,
had been Embassador at Venice and the Hague, where he married
the Greffier Fagel’s niece. His mother was a daughter of Duke
Schomberg, and married a second time to the Earl of Fitzwalter.

[175] George Montagu, third Earl of Halifax, of that house, and
First Lord of Trade. He had set out in Opposition with Lord
Sandwich, and came into place at the same time.

[176] Monday, June 10, 1771.--On Saturday morning, at four
o’clock, died George Montagu Dunk, Earl of Halifax, Viscount
Sunbury, Secretary of State for the northern department, Ranger
and Warden of Salcey Forest and Bushy Park, Lord Lieutenant and
Custos Rotulorum of Northamptonshire, and one of his Majesty’s
Most Hon. Privy Council, Knight of the Garter, a Governor of the
Charter-house, and ranked as Lieutenant-General of his Majesty’s
Forces. His Lordship was born October 5, 1716, succeeded George,
his father, the preceding Earl, May 9, 1739, and married in 1741,
Miss Anne Dunk, daughter and heir of ---- Dunk, of Hawkhurst, in
Kent, Esq., which lady dying in 1753, left three daughters,--viz.,
Lady Anne, who died in 1761; Lady Frances, who died in 1764;
and Lady Elizabeth, married on March 1, 1766, to Lord Viscount
Hinchinbroke, son and heir of the Earl of Sandwich. His Lordship,
on the breaking out of the Rebellion in 1745, raised a regiment
of Foot for his late Majesty. On March 20, 1761, his Lordship was
nominated Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and his administration of the
government of that kingdom did him great honour.--(Public Journals.)

[177] Paul Whitehead, author, among other satiric writings, of the
State Dunces, and Manners; for the last of which he was ordered by
the House of Lords to be taken into custody. He was a man of most
infamous character.

[178] She was christened Caroline Matilda.

[179] Sir Thomas Lyttelton had been a Lord of the Admiralty, but
retired with a pension on his son’s going so warmly into Opposition.

[180] Vienna.

[181] He came over very privately during the war, and negotiated
the first overtures of peace.--Vide Lord Chesterfield’s Apology.

[182] Vide Appendix, F. G. and H.

[183] The title of it was, “The Conquered Duchess.” [It has been
frequently printed, and is probably familiar to the reader.]--E.

[184] He died, [after much bodily and mental illness] November 2nd,
1759.

[185] The Princess Royal was so proud and ambitious, that one
day, when very young, telling the Queen how much she wished that
she had no brothers, that she herself might succeed to the Crown,
and the Queen reproving her, she said, “I would die to-morrow to
be Queen to-day!” On the Queen’s death, the Princess Royal, like
others, imagining the King must be governed by a woman, pretended
ill-health, and that her physicians had ordered her to Bath, and
came over; but having been so indiscreet as to let her motive be
known, the King would not sutler her to stop in London, but sent
her directly to Bath, and, on her return, back to Holland; nor ever
forgave her.

[186] Edward Coke, only son of Thomas, Earl of Leicester.

[187] Lord Chesterfield told Mr. Pelham from Lord Bolingbroke,
that Lord Egmont being sent by the Prince to Lord Bolingbroke
to consult on measures for opening his approaching reign, Lord
Bolingbroke desired him to open his plan; Lord Egmont said it would
be necessary for the Prince to begin with some popular act, and
proposed for that end, immediately to restore feudal tenures! Lord
Bolingbroke dissenting, they parted in heat.

[188] Vide the Appendix, I.

[189] This alludes to the proposal in the foregoing session, of
confining Murray in the dungeon called _Little Ease_.

[190] Henry St. John, Lord Viscount Bolingbroke, Secretary of State
to Queen Anne, had, on the accession of George the First, been
impeached for his share in the treaty of Utrecht, and fled. Sir
Robert Walpole (strongly against the inclination of his brother
Horace, Lord Townshend, and others of his friends) obtained his
pardon, though Lord Bolingbroke and his advocates afterwards
pretended that the Minister had no hand in it. The day after his
return he dined at Chelsea, to thank Sir Robert; but his confusion
and uneasiness were so great, that he had like to have been choked
with the first bit he ate, and was forced to rise from table. He
soon endeavoured to supplant Sir Robert, by the assistance of his
enemy the Duchess of Kendal, who obtained an audience for him in
the late King’s closet, where he presented a representation against
Sir Robert, which the King immediately afterwards delivered to
Sir Robert, and repeated the conversation to him. A parallel case
happened afterwards to the same Minister. Lord Stair endeavoured to
supplant him with Queen Caroline, and even was so hardy as to make
love to her, which not succeeding, he wrote a long letter to her,
and went the next morning for an answer. She sent him out word by
her Chamberlain, Lord Grantham, that she had given his letter to
Sir Robert Walpole, and had ordered him to deliver her answer. Lord
Stair saw his situation, and set out next morning for Scotland.

[191] On history, published since his death.

[192] See Lord Walpole’s answer to these letters. All Lord
Bolingbroke’s art, all his beauties of style, vanish before these
plain, unadorned, argumentative, demonstrative replies.

[193] In a late apology for Lord Bolingbroke, the author (supposed
to be Campbell) has endeavoured to deny this known fact, but
without the least proof.

[194] Lord Egmont gave me the following instances. Lord Bolingbroke
gave the Prince a scheme for vesting the Revenue in the Crown for
every six years, without a Civil List, and for having Parliaments
holden every five or six years. The Court he paid to the Prince was
to a degree of adoration. One day that he dined with Lord Egmont,
the Prince came in as they were drinking coffee, and bad them not
mind him. Lord Egmont, who knew that to obey was to respect, gave
Lord Bolingbroke a dish; but he, who thought that to disobey from
respect was more respectful (and who perhaps knew, that though
the Prince seemed to encourage familiarity, he never forgave it),
started and cried, “Good God! my Lord, what are you doing? Do you
consider who is present?” One of his views was to be an Earl; and,
knowing that the Prince had had an inclination for his sister,
Lady St. John, he took her son into his own house, under pretence
of educating him and making him his heir, as an inducement to the
Prince to promise him the Earldom. The Prince often sent his first
Minister, Dr. Lee, to him; and one day said to Lord Egmont of Lord
Bolingbroke, “That man is at fourscore just what he was at forty! I
know how he flatters Lee to his face, and yet he is always teasing
me to discard him, and telling him that he is not fit to hold a
candle to an Administration.”

A few years after this note was written, I met with the following
words in the eleventh letter of the Dissertation on Parties, p.
151, of the quarto edition: “Should a King obtain, for many years
at once, the supplies and powers which used to be granted annually
to him, this would be deemed, I presume, even in the present age,
an unjustifiable measure, and an _intolerable grievance_; for
this plain reason, because it would alter our constitution in the
fundamental article, that requires frequent assemblies of the whole
legislature, in order to assist, and control too, the executive
power, which is entrusted with one part of it.” What must be the
heart of that man, who, merely to load an envied Minister, could
suppose instances of wicked administration, which had not entered
into the head of any other man; and who could afterwards adopt
those suppositions himself, and try to recommend himself to a
Prince by those individual bad measures, the creatures of his own
brain: and this at past seventy years old! hazarding, for a very
few years of unenjoyable power, to entail so calamitous a system on
his country!

[195] Lord Bolingbroke had trusted him to get six copies printed
off of his Letters on Patriotism; after Pope’s death, it was
discovered that he had secured a vast number of copies for his own
benefit. Vide the Preface to the Idea of a Patriot King, where this
story is exposed. What aggravated Lord Bolingbroke’s exposing his
friend was, that after his own death it was discovered that he had
secretly preserved a copy of Dr. Middleton’s Essay on Prayer, which
his lordship had persuaded the doctor’s executors to burn.

[196] Vide Appendix, K.

[197] Sir Robert Walpole was killed by Jurin’s medicine for the
stone; Lord Bolingbroke by a man who had pretended to cure him of a
cancer in his face.

[198] In quibusdam virtutes non habent gratiam, in quibusdam vitia
ipsa delectant.--_Quintil._

[199] This allusion is manifestly borrowed from Sir Charles Hanbury
Williams, who, in an epistle written in 1745, but not printed till
many years afterwards, thus draws the character of Mr. Pelham, and
contrasts him with Sir Robert Walpole. Apostrophizing the Goddess
of Prudence, he says--

      Turn to your altars, on your votaries shine,
      See Pelham ever kneeling at thy shrine;
      By you at first by slow degrees he rose,
      To you the zenith of his power he owes;
      You taught him in your middle course to steer,
      Impartial, moderate, candid to appear;
      Fearful of enmity, to friendship cold,
      Cautiously frank, and timorously bold,
      And so observant, never to offend
      A foe, he quite forgets to fix a friend.
      Long versed in politics, but poor in parts,
      The courtier’s tricks, but not the statesman’s arts;
      His smile obedient to his purpose still,
      Some dirty compromise his utmost skill;
      In vain his own penurious soil he till’d;
      In vain he glean’d from Walpole’s plenteous field;
      In vain th’ exchequer robes about him flow,
      The _mantle_ does not make the _prophet_ now.--E.


[200] As he gave up the Hanover troops, to pave the way for Mr.
Pitt’s coming to Court--and voting for them himself next year!

[201] As Lord Sunderland, Lord Stanhope, Craggs, and Lord Townshend.

[202] How little he shone in formal ornamental eloquence appeared
from his speech at Sacheverell’s trial, which was the only written
one, and perhaps the worst he ever made.

[203] That Lord Granville, Pitt, and Lyttelton, recanted all their
invectives, must not be produced as unbiassed evidence; but the
Duke of Bedford and Lord Cornbury will be allowed too honest to
have acted from any motives but conviction.




1752.

  Pour être bon historien, il ne faudroit être d’aucune religion,
  d’aucun pais, d’aucune profession, d’aucun parti.




CHAPTER VIII.

  Reflections of the Author on commencing his Memoirs of the
  Year 1752--State of Parties--Treaty with Saxony--Duke of
  Bedford opposes it--Debates upon it in the Lords--Speeches of
  the Duke of Newcastle, Lord Sandwich, Marquis of Halifax, and
  Lord Granville--History of the Purchase of Scotch Forfeited
  Estates--Debates on the Scotch Forfeiture Bill.


I sit down to resume a task, for which I fear posterity will
condemn the author, at the same time that they feel their curiosity
gratified. On reviewing the first part of these Memoirs, I find
the truth rigidly told. And even since they were written, I have
often been struck with the censures which are passed on such
historians as have fairly displayed the faulty sides of the
characters they exhibit. Theopompus is called a satirist: Timæus
was so severe,[204] as to be nicknamed Epitimæus, the Blamer. Some
of our own annalists, as Wilson, Weldon, Osborn, (though frequently
quoted,) are seldom mentioned without reproach. I defend them not:
if their representations are exaggerated, they not only deserve
reproach, but discredit.

On the other hand, I examined the candid authors. Two of our
own, who deal wonderfully in panegyric, Clarendon and Echard, I
find to have dispensed invectives with a liberal hand on men of
parties opposite to their own--does then the province of praise
and censure depend on the felicity of choosing one’s party? _That_
shall never influence me--I would as soon wish to be rejected for
flattering one party, as for blaming another. Nor can I, on the
strictest consideration, determine to write like biographers and
authors of Peerages and Compendiums, who sink all executions in a
family, all blots in a ’scutcheon, and lay out their personages as
fair as if they wrote epitaphs, not history. Does any noble family
extinguish? One should grieve, on reading their genealogies, that
such a succession of heroes, statesmen, patriots, should ever fail;
if a little knowledge of mankind did not call forth the blemishes,
which these varnishers have slubbered over. If I write, I must
write facts. The times I describe have neither been glorious nor
fortunate. Have our affairs gone ill, and yet were our Governors
wise? Have Parliaments been venal, servile, and yet individuals
upright? If I paint the battle of Dettingen in prosperous colours,
am I an admired historian? If I mention hostages sent to France,
am I an abusive one? Are there no shades, no degrees of vices and
misconduct? Must no Princes be blamed, till they are Neros? Must
Vespasian’s avarice pass unnoticed, because he did not set fire
to the city--because he did not burn the means of gratifying his
exactions?

Suppose I were to comply with this indulgent taste, and write
thus:--George the Second was the most glorious Monarch that ever
sat on the English Throne; his victories over the united arms
of Spain and France[205] will illustrate our annals till time
is no more; and his condescension and generosity will conspire
to raise his private character to a level with his public. The
Duke of Newcastle was a prodigy of sincerity, steadiness, and
abilities. Mr. Pelham was the humblest man, the bravest Minister,
the heartiest friend, the openest enemy. The Earl of Holderness the
most graceful dancer that ever trod the stage of business since the
days of Chancellor Hatton--avaunt, Flattery! tell the truth, my pen!

The miscarriage of the Rebellion had silenced Jacobitism; the death
of the Prince of Wales had quashed opposition; and the removal of
the Duke of Bedford and Lord Sandwich had put an end to factions in
the Ministry. The ascendant of the Pelhams drew the attention of
the disaffected, who began to see a prospect of the restoration,
if not of the Stuarts, at least of absolute power; and this union
was not a little cemented by the harmony of hatred, in which both
the Pelhams and the Jacobites concurred against the Duke and the
Duke of Bedford; neither the one nor the other were disposed at
this juncture to stem the torrent. The Duke was determined not to
give the Pelhams so fair an opportunity of mischief, as by setting
up the standard of opposition during his father’s life; and the
treasures which he expected at the King’s death, and would not risk
losing,[206] he knew would indemnify the delay of his revenge. The
Duke of Bedford, who had been driven into contention, not sought
it himself, did not feel resentment enough for the loss of power,
which he had never much coveted, to make him eager in returning
ill-usage; and as he thought himself distinguished by the King’s
esteem, he affected gratitude to the Master, more than revenge to
the Ministers. Pitt and his little faction were rather unsatisfied,
than in possession of any title to complaint; and yet from that
quarter seemed to lower the first small cloud that might at all
obscure the present halcyon season.

A new subsidiary treaty with Saxony (a strange codicil to a general
peace!) had been lately concluded; the pretence, the purchase of
another Electoral vote for the Archduke Joseph, whom we persisted
in making a candidate for the succession of the Empire, though his
father and his mother were equally averse to see him King of the
Romans. As he was immediate heir to his mother’s vast dominions,
the Emperor could not but foresee, that, if the estates of the
House of Austria fell to his son, it might even become difficult
for himself to retain the empty diadem, when the means of grandeur
should be devolved on his child; and the Empress-queen, who had not
ceded a jot of power to a husband whose person she loved, was not
desirous of calling her son Emperor, who might be less tractable,
and more impatient to reign in earnest. Yet the dread the King felt
of a new war in Germany, his jealousy of his nephew of Prussia,
and even the favourite impulse of acting in contradiction to him,
made his Majesty eager to hurry on the election, and profuse of
subsidies, which were not to be issued from his own coffers. Lord
Cobham, who, having no place to forfeit, was always used by Pitt as
the trumpet of their discontents, openly sounded his disapprobation
of the Treaty: and old Horace Walpole, who had waded through, and
transacted so many treaties, without attaining a Peerage, was at
last determined to try if he could not traverse negotiations to
better purpose than he had negotiated.

On January 7th, the Parliament met again after the adjournment;
and on the 16th, Mr. Pelham laid the Treaty before the House. The
Duke of Bedford came to town on the 15th; so far from meditating
opposition, that he was resolved to make use of the remains of
the King’s favour, to ask a pension for the Duchess’s sister,
Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave. The Duchess, who could not bear to
be out of favour as well as out of power, and who always kept a
reconciliation in view, had planned this suit, with at least as
much prospect to tie down the Duke by an obligation to the King,
from reverting to Opposition, as from kindness to her sister; and
there was no doubt but the Pelhams would have pressed the King to
grant so trifling a boon; for what could they wish more, when they
had driven the Duke of Bedford to resign the power of serving all
his friends, than to silence his murmurs, by serving the first
friend of his for whom he should submit to solicit?

The prospect of allies in Opposition was immediately hung out to
the Duke of Bedford, by some[207] who wished to fix him against
the Court, and who wanted to engage him to speak against the
Treaty, which they knew would either prevent him from soliciting
the pension, or by touching so tender a point as a German subsidy,
would provoke the King to refuse his request. This train caught
effectually; and though the Duchess was alarmed, yet not having
time to work back her husband, whose warmth was most impetuous, the
Duke determined at once to oppose the Saxon Treaty.

22nd, Mr. Pelham opened the Treaty in the Committee. Old Horace
Walpole spoke against it in a manner that showed how well he knew
where the weakness of such treaties lay; and however astonishing
such arguments were when coming from him, they were pressed with
such force and weight as stilled their ridicule, had he not
himself done justice upon himself, and concluded his oration with
professing such duty to the King, that, though so averse to the
Treaty, he should yet vote for it. The House burst into laughter
at such absurd pretence for zeal, which could conquer its own
conscience, but had not prevented him from exposing the measures of
a Prince, for whom he expressed such veneration! Murray, Potter,
Sir Harry Erskine, Sir Thomas Robinson, Sir William Yonge, Lord
Hilsborough, Mr. Fox, Sir Peter Warren, Mr. Legge, and Charles
Townshend, spoke for; Sir Walter Blacket, Beckford, Lord Strange,
and Lord Cobham against it; but it was agreed to by 236 to 54.

On the 23rd it was reported to the House. Northey and George
Haldane opposed it again. Nugent was zealous for it. Sydenham,
reflecting on Nugent’s former religion, said, that he seemed not
content with a majority of electors, but would have an Emperor
chosen, _like a Pope_, by two-thirds. Vyner reflected on the King
for bringing such expenses on the nation, after such obligations to
it, and such noble provision made for his children. This Mr. Pelham
answered finely, seriously, and pathetically; a manner in which he
particularly shone. There was no division.

On the 28th the Treaty was debated in the House of Lords. The
Duke of Bedford opened the opposition to it, with professing,
that his greatest difficulty lay in its having been the act of
the King, so good a King, whom he had served seven years, and to
whom he was agitated with the fear of being misrepresented: yet,
that he could neither in conscience acquiesce, nor be content with
silently opposing subsidiary treaties in time of peace; and the
dangerous measures of wasting, when we ought to be saving. That
if you treat after a war, you may obtain conditions certain; but
what advantages can you make, where there is nothing to be given
up or restored? That by paying for votes for the Archduke, we are
purchasing advantages for our Allies, instead of for ourselves;
and at the same time instruct those Princes who take our money,
never to unite with us but for money. That with the people it must
be a measure most unpopular, to tax them for money to be sent
abroad, when they cannot possibly discern how it touches their
own interest. And that in no shape the measure can be right, but
when a war is approaching; whereas, we are but just emerged out
of one. That the preamble is most injurious to the dignity of our
Crown; it speaks us suppliants to that inconsiderable Prince, the
King of Poland, who is most incapable to serve us, not only from
the situation of his country, but from his bad administration.
Besides, he might have been obliged to join us by the two Imperial
Courts, as his ruling passion is to make Poland hereditary in his
family--how great then is his condescension, if he will not take
part against you! If he did, it would be of little consequence: it
is only giving so much for levy-money. If England were attacked,
of what use would Saxons be? That he did not think this country
or Holland should always have such preparatory connexions on the
Continent; and yet that this Treaty did not even stipulate that
his Polish Majesty shall increase his forces. That the fifth
Article was wretchedly drawn! and for that King’s vote--had it been
secured, when it might have been--that Cologne had been lost for
want of proper words to tie him down: a fit example to have made us
more wary! and yet how many evasions open, if this Saxon Prince is
disposed to elude his engagements! That we are not likely to bring
about this election; and that we even keep off two of the electors,
by showing them that they may ask a price for their votes. That
Prussia’s protesting against the election is a new doctrine--and as
new is this opportunity for Lords who love subsidizing! Notify your
intentions, you may have thirty or forty of the College of Princes,
who will take your money. Yet, while we are thus bounteous, Russia
takes no steps, Austria few. But he supposed he should be told,
that Holland is to pay part; he was sorry for it; Holland is still
less able than we to be thus extravagant. But if Holland should not
pay, who is to make good the deficiencies? If this is done with the
consent of France, she only will have the merit: if without her
consent, it will bring on a war.

He then turned to home considerations, and (as this was supposed
to be a sacrifice offered by the Duke of Newcastle to the King’s
German passions, contrary to the inclination of Mr. Pelham), he
said it was extravagant imbecility, if this measure was yielded to
by the Minister against his will. That the tenour was throughout
the same, and parsimony or profusion took their turns, as
individuals took prepossessions. That to please individuals,[208]
the material service, the Navy, had been reduced to 8000 seamen:
that to please individuals,[209] Nova Scotia had been profusely
suckled, and its deficiences always supplied. That the land-tax,
the malt-tax, the reduction of interest, had been carried on with
spirit: yet for what have the public creditors been taxed, if
the savings made at their expense are scandalously lavished? If
measures are not changed, if men are not changed, we must go on _de
mal en pire_. That when we pretend to economy, how judiciously is
it exerted! It is displayed in contracting the rewards for removing
the mortality of the cattle, or for discovering highwaymen! That
our youngest daughter, Nova Scotia, is favoured, while Jamaica
is neglected, by an Administration who neither grant protection
to commerce, nor endeavour at any reformation of morals. The
Duke concluded with a Motion for an Address, to represent that
subsidiary treaties ought never to be concluded in time of peace,
especially after a long war, and that they are neither necessary at
present, nor likely to procure any real advantage.

The Duke of Newcastle replied in a wild, incoherent,
incomprehensible speech of an hour and a quarter, in which he set
out with saying, that he would not answer general heads, because
the Duke of Bedford had descended to particulars; and yet the
greatest deduction of his defence was an account of the three
last wars. That for this, it was a measure of peace and economy,
and that _it is little as it is, because it is so great_. That
he remembered the argument used to blacken the great war was,
that we have no interest on the Continent; and that the Dutch
were reproached then, and are now. That he that is not for us,
is against us: that there are those who would gladly accept the
union of the Dutch. That if he thought this a greater burthen than
England could bear, in proportion to the objections, he should
be against it; but that if it prevents a war, the sooner England
concludes this Treaty the better. That if we do not connect with
the Continent, we shall be obliged to enter into the next, as we
were into the last war. What was the occasion of the three last
wars? Of the first, the succession to the Crown of Spain--_but
that can never happen again_. Everybody knows the zeal of the
present King of Spain. In the second, the war occasioned by the
vacancy of the Throne of Poland, England took no part: if we had,
it would have prevented the last; at least, it would have been
better carried on. The last war was occasioned by the ambition of
Bavaria. _It cost us much, yet glad he was, for we should have
been in a worse condition, if we had not entered into it._ From
the Treaty of Utrecht to that of Aix-la-Chapelle, there have been
no four years without greater expenses than these four last. If
the last war was occasioned by the vacancy of the Imperial Throne,
the treaty in question is calculated to prevent such a vacancy and
such consequences. That Holland, he hoped, would emerge out of her
difficulties _by the prudence of the present conjuncture_--that
his meaning was sufficiently explained, though it might be more
elegantly; that more plainly, would be improper. That we have
received the strongest assurances--what they are: if there should
be any Motion for laying them before the House, he would be the
first to oppose it. Have we never seen Saxony act against its
interest? If any means had been omitted for engaging that Power in
the common cause, the Ministry would have much to answer for. That
the question of the necessity of the unanimity of the electors had
been fully considered, _though there was a time when no elector
would have opposed_. That the election had not hitherto proceeded,
because Cologne did not understand itself obliged to concur. That
we must get six votes, and therefore, whatever is demanded, must
be granted, though Cologne did ask more, and it was not granted.
All arts were tried to engage that elector without a subsidy. He
then proved that the election might have been carried and been
valid with a majority, and yet that we waited till we could secure
two-thirds. That he was told we meddled everywhere; an accusation
he was sometimes surprised to hear from some people. That the Fleet
had repaired the miscarriages of the Army--was it not the duty
of economic Ministers to supply the Sea Service? That for what
had been hinted of the provocation we should give to France, _the
wisdom of that Power will admire us, not be angry, if we do nothing
to hurt her_.

This, and some few preceding harangues of this extraordinary
person, I give merely as a specimen of the rhetoric of a man, who
certainly did not govern his country by his oratoric abilities.
The reader must excuse me, if for the future I omit them, unless
on very particular occasions; for though I have generally given
myself the trouble to minute them down at the delivery, it were
too impertinent to commit them to history. And I must beg so
much indulgence, as when argument, or connexion, or grammar is
observably wanting, that it may be remarked that at least in all
other speeches I have taken care to write true English: in those of
the Duke of Newcastle, the original has been faithfully copied.

Lord Sandwich then, with most ungraceful delivery, which yet was as
powerful as the matter of his speech, lamented his misfortune of
differing with his friend the Duke of Bedford, which he must do,
though he found the reasons preponderate very little on the side of
the Treaty, and though he agreed with his Grace in near half he had
said: that he considered how little regard was paid to economy, and
that nobody was less prepossessed in favour of the Ministry, whom
he should gladly oppose, but where the exigencies of the public
required his concurrence. That he knew their sentiments were to
silence opposition at any rate; that influenced by that motive,
they had last year reduced the Navy: however, he must own that the
event had justified the reduction; that he should not concur now,
if he did not hope that granting this subsidy would stop greater
profusion. And, that the public might at least have this security
even from the badness of the present Ministers, that they will even
wave their own bad purposes, rather than hear disagreeable truths;
which, for his part, he should always be ready to utter, though
he did not approve being actuated by private connexions in public
affairs.

The secret of this speech was, that the Duke of Bedford having
acquainted Lord Sandwich with his intention of opposing the Treaty,
and having desired him to consult the Duke, the latter had approved
the opposition, but would not openly concur, for fear of offending
the King; and as Lord Sandwich was the known creature of the Duke,
it was thought proper that he should act this middle part, of
voting for the Treaty, and censuring the Pelhams. The Duke went so
far as to tell the King, that the Duke of Bedford spoke just better
than the Duke of Newcastle, but that Lord Sandwich alone shone. The
truth was, Lord Sandwich ruined his little remains of character for
abilities; the Duke of Bedford was seen in a new light. The method
with which he went through the Treaty, the great variety of matter
of which through the whole Debate he showed himself master, and
the coolness with which he mastered his own temper too, made him
considered as a very formidable and able speaker.

Lord Halifax then rose and said, “They who disapprove all
treaties, cannot like this: they who are for no connexion with the
Continent--” the Duke of Bedford interrupted him, and said, “That
is not my opinion.” Lord Halifax replied, “But very like it.” The
Duke again interposed, but the Duke of Argyle called him to order,
and with acrimony said, that he had never seen such interruption
given twice in one Debate. Lord Halifax then continued, that if the
peace was not strengthened, it would only be a cessation of arms:
that we must not be parsimonious, while France was dealing out a
million in subsidies (this had been a most exaggerated calculation
of the Solicitor-General[210] in the House of Commons), that she
had offered more to Saxony, who had preferred our alliance with the
lesser sum. That the money granted for Nova Scotia had been given
to establish the settlement, not to carry on a war: that if the
ships had been sent out too late last year, it was the fault of the
Admiralty; and that of all men he least expected opposition from
those two Lords, who had so lately approved these treaties.

This was the accusation for which the Duke of Bedford had waited;
and he embraced it artfully. He said, that this was so far from a
preventive measure, that it was more likely to raise a war; that he
had indeed said nothing hitherto to explain the consistence of his
own conduct, foreseeing that he might be attacked on it. That he
had always wished to detach Bavaria from France, and thought it a
great point gained, though not with a view to engage that vote for
a King of the Romans; but that, while he had acted in the Ministry,
he had disapproved this profusion of subsidies; and that, having
made the most earnest representations against that to Bavaria, he
had received the strongest assurances from _one_,[211] who had
inclination to prevent, and power to hinder, that the subsidy then
granted to the Elector of Bavaria should be the last we would give.
He had then in his pocket a letter from Mr. Pelham, with a solemn
promise of this.

Lord Granville put an end to the debate by a speech of spirit and
humour; that the Motion was full of inflammatory matter, and that
it was drawing the House into declaring against subsidiary treaties
in general: that France can be attacked by no single Power; that
leagues must humble her, subsidies cement leagues. France has no
Pretender to be set up against her. She might say, “I will give no
subsidies,”--and yet she does. That formerly during his Embassies,
he had been asked by a great Prince[212] (the King of Denmark)
what we meant by that magnificent bravado in the Preamble to our
Mutiny Bill, where we say, that we keep up eighteen thousand men
to preserve the balance of Europe. “I told him, my Lords, ‘One
day can make those eighteen fifty thousand.’ If you say you will
pay no more electors, you have erected a bridge without complete
arches--and what kind of policy is that, if this House rejects a
treaty already ratified by King and Commons! The Court of France
does not regard guarantees--or indeed what Powers do? Would Prussia
retain Silesia long, if he had nothing to defend it with but the
guarantee? for, my Lords,” concluded he, laughing, “I must bring
out some of my secrets too.” The Motion was rejected without a
division. The next time the Duke of Bedford went to Court, the King
took no notice of him; nor for some time.

29th.--Lord Harley, seconded by Northey, made a Motion for
declaring against subsidiary treaties in time of peace. It
occasioned a warm Debate; and Prowse, escaping from his usual
plausibility, said, that he could discover no symptoms of economy
in the Administration, though indeed they had enforced it, for by
lowering interest, and by the land-tax of three shillings, both
landed and monied men were reduced to be economists. Beckford,
Fazakerley, Sir Roger Newdigate, Morton, Sydenham, Cooke,
Delaval, and Sir Walter Blacket, spoke for the Motion: Hampden
against it, but with a sneer, said, that he approved _bribing
electors_, as he saw _by other instances_ how it had contributed
to quash opposition. Mitchell taxed old Horace Walpole with his
unparliamentary behaviour, in speaking on one side and voting on
the other. The Solicitor-General, Sir Henry Erskine, Nugent, Ellis,
Tracy, and Sir William Yonge, all opposed the Motion; and lastly,
Mr. Pelham, who seized the opportunity of venting the anguish he
had felt the day before in the House of Lords (which from that
day he never attended more), and of abusing with much bitterness
and ability the Duke of Bedford and Lord Sandwich. The Motion was
rejected by 180 to 52. After the Debate, Mr. Pelham asked Fox, if
he had gone too far in invectives. “No,” answered Fox, “as they
began; though you originally gave the provocation.” “Oh! Fox,”
replied he, “you did not feel for me, as I should for you in the
same circumstances!”

In the beginning of February, Lord Cardigan was appointed Governor
of Windsor Castle, and was succeeded as Chief Justice in Eyre by
the Duke of Somerset.

4th.--Died Sir John Cotton; the last Jacobite of any sensible
activity.

21st.--Sir John Barnard, whose popularity had suffered by the share
he had had in reducing the interest of the public debt to three per
cent., made a proposal to tie down six hundred thousand pounds a
year of the Sinking Fund, from the year 1758, towards discharging
the whole national incumbrance. Beckford supported him; but Mr.
Pelham and the Solicitor-General opposing it, his scheme was
rejected without a division. We shall see him afterwards addressing
himself to his lost popularity with more success, and as it often
happens, on a worse foundation.

25th.--Lord Winchelsea had summoned the Lords to consider an
Admiralty Bill, which had passed the Commons without opposition,
and which was designed to commute the punishment of transportation
into working in the Dockyards. Bills of less invidious appearance
had often raised a flame in combustible seasons: this seemed to
introduce a kind of galley slavery, yet was really converting
a species of disgraceful criminals, who only corrupt our
Plantations, into useful members of society. Could the monthly
shambles at Tyburn (that scene that shocks humanity, and reproaches
our Police!) be exchanged for severe labour in the same way, it
would reflect honour on a Legislature, which ought not to wanton
in such punishment of its members as death and banishment, but to
extract public utility, even from crimes. The Duke of Newcastle,
fearing to be attacked himself, and the Chancellor, as apprehensive
for his silent son-in-law, Lord Anson, the head of the Admiralty
and patron of the Bill, prevailed on Lord Northumberland to rise,
commend the Bill, and then move to have it put off for six weeks.
The Duke of Bedford called him to order for entering upon the Bill
before it was read.

28th.--Lord Tyrawley was sent to Lisbon, to accommodate some
differences which had been occasioned by our Captains openly
running Portugal pieces, which had used to be brought on board our
ships by the _decent_ intervention of the Monks.

The same day was read for the first time a Bill to empower the
Government to purchase, at the rate of about an hundred thousand
pounds, the estates in Scotland forfeited by the late Rebellion,
and which the King was to cede to the public, in order to have
colonies settled on them, especially of Foreign Protestants. The
necessity of the purchase was pretended to arise from mortgages
on them, and which would even consume the property in a few
years, and pass them from the King’s hands into those of the
mortgagees. Grants of money to Scotland have ever been suspicious:
the influence of the Duke of Argyle over the ductility of the
Ministry was most notorious; the claims now erected on these
forfeitures most incredible; and the establishment of Colonies in
parts so barren, so uninviting, of such unpleasant neighbourhood,
most improbable and impracticable. One circumstance alone, of
public notoriety, staggered all credit in the sum demanded. Lord
Lovat, at the bar of the House of Lords, had declared that his
was the best estate in Scotland, for there were no debts upon
it--it now appeared charged with a mortgage of thirty thousand
pounds! Vyner, Northey, Beckford, Sydenham, Fazakerley, Prowse,
and the Whig-General Mordaunt, opposed the Bill. The Scotch Lord
Advocate, Mr. Pelham, Sir William Yonge, and Oswald, with fine
warmth supported it, and it passed that day without a division;
and again on the second reading, March 2d, when it was faintly
opposed by the same people, and defended by the same, and by the
Attorney-General.[213]

March 4th.--The Bill was reported: Vyner observed that no
retribution had been made to any parts of England that had suffered
by the Rebels, though ten thousand pounds had been given to Glasgow
alone, to compensate their damages. Sir John Mordaunt asked with
spirit, whether Englishmen would go to these intended settlements
for twenty pounds a year, only to have land a fifth cheaper?
Whether the English Ministry meant to send 28,000 men only to
starve? or whether they would suffer themselves to be sent? He
said, the Scotch were so attached to the individual spots of their
tribes, that when Glenbucket had wanted to transplant his M’Donalds
to the site of the M’Phersons, the colonists had been murdered,
their houses burnt, and Glenbucket himself received several wounds.
That this scheme would set the whole Highlands in a flame--“when
that is done,” said he, “I will congratulate the gentlemen who
brought in the Bill--in the mean time, let me tell them, that so
impotent or so supine is the Government in that part of the island,
that there is now a person, a man of five hundred pounds a year,
who forced three or four hundred Drummonds into the Rebellion, and
has sons in Lord John Drummond’s regiment in France, who lives
tranquilly, securely, on his own estate in Scotland, and triumphs
over the well-affected and loyal.”

General Campbell maintained the probability of establishing the
Colony in question, and instanced in one at Strontean, where mines
are carried on by a company from hence, who are well received
there, who have polished the country, and where three to one
are well-affected. Legge said, that this system will have more
effect than all that had been done about dress and jurisdictions,
because those regulations were imposed by force; but this was to be
purchased: that the economy of the measure could not be questioned,
as, by buying mortgaged estates, you may prevent future Rebellions,
and consequently avoid the heavy charges which Rebellion occasions.
That the Colony must be sent armed; and that for some time the
Army must be used as a succedaneum to this measure, though force
produces only artificial loyalty in breasts, that will still
be waiting for opportunities of revenge; but that nest-egg of
Rebellion must be crushed in time of peace; that if this measure is
not adopted, the remaining alternatives were, to acquiesce under
incidental Rebellions, or to exterminate the disaffected by fire
and sword; that what is loyalty or disloyalty here, is there food
or starving. Feed the clans, they will obey; starve them they must
rebel: that the means, therefore, of eradicating this spirit in
the common people are obvious; polish them, introduce the arts of
peace amongst them--the disloyalty of the gentlemen is with more
difficulty to be subdued.

Lord Coke spoke with animosity[214] against the measure, as being
a Scotch measure; Lord Hilsborough with approbation of it, as
resembling what, he said, he had experienced in Ireland, where he
had seen mountains of <DW7>s settled at last by Protestants, after
two or three colonies had been successively driven off; and he said
sensibly, “have we 6000 men who keep all Scotland in order, and
will they not be able to protect this little colony?”

Northey objected to the economy of a measure which was pretended
[to be] calculated to save the expense of an Army, and yet must be
put in execution by an Army! and he stated the collusive manner in
which the calculation was drawn up, and observed that the claims
erected were 270,000_l._; that the estates to be purchased are
16,000_l._ a year; that it is allowed, that there is personal
estate sequestered to the amount of 19,000_l._; and yet that that
sum was not allotted towards the purchase. The Report was agreed to
by 171 to 34. Lord Gower’s sons[215] were in the minority: none of
the Duke’s servants were present but Felton Hervey, and he too was
against the Bill.

7th.--Prince Edward, the young Prince of Orange, and the Earls of
Lincoln, Winchelsea, and Cardigan, were declared Knights of the
Garter: the Scotch Earl of Dumfries had the Green Ribband, and Lord
Onslow the Red.

Some differences happened upon a ship of ours taking sailors out
of an Embden vessel; and a Bill was brought in to prevent insuring
Embden ships.

9th.--The Scotch Bill was passed in the Commons, on a division of
134 to 39.


FOOTNOTES:

[204] One of the reasons for reckoning him severe was, his laughing
at those who wrote on Phalaris’s bull.

[205] This was written before the last war in the reign of George
the Second, in which, he really triumphed over both France and
Spain, but it was by the Ministry of Mr. Pitt.

[206] The Duke of Cumberland’s subsequent patience on his father’s
unjust ill-treatment of him after the battle of Hastenbeck, and his
Royal Highness’s total indifference to money, fully vindicate him
from this suspicion.

[207] Particularly by the Author of these Memoirs.

[208] Pitt and the Grenvilles. See the preceding year.

[209] Lord Halifax.

[210] Mr. Murray.

[211] Mr. Pelham.

[212] Very probable that a King of Denmark should have seen
a Preamble to a Mutiny Bill!--but there was no hyperbole too
extravagant for Lord Granville to use.

[213] Sir Dudley Rider.

[214] He was much hated by the Scotch, since his quarrel with and
separation from his wife, Lady Mary, youngest daughter of John,
Duke of Argyle.

[215] Earl Gower stuck to the Pelhams: his sons, Lord Trentham
and Richard Leveson, acted with their brother-in-law, the Duke of
Bedford.




CHAPTER IX.

  The Scotch Bill--Speeches of the Duke of Bedford and the Lord
  Chancellor, Lord Bath, the Duke of Argyle, and the Duke of
  Newcastle--Character of Archibald Duke of Argyle--The King
  goes to Hanover--History of the Factions in Ireland--Divisions
  among the Instructors of the Prince of Wales--Account
  of the Pretender’s Family and Court at Rome--German
  Alliances unlucky--Dissensions in the Prince of Wales’s
  Household--Appointment of Lord Waldegrave as Governor, and Dr.
  Thomas as Preceptor, to his Royal Highness.


March 10.--Lord Bath moved for an account of the produce of the
Window-tax in Scotland. It had not, since first laid, brought in
one shilling.

The Scotch Bill had hitherto only raised some warmth in particular
men, who either did not love that nation from prejudice, or from
resentments contracted against them during the late Rebellion.
It now took a more serious turn. The Duke, who had conquered
the Scotch like an able General, who had punished them like an
offended Prince, and whose resentments were not softened by the
implacability of their hatred to him, was not a little disgusted
at seeing measures of favour to them adopted, and himself totally
unconsulted upon those measures. Yet he could not, as they were
concerted by the King’s Ministers, openly oppose them. It was
almost as difficult for him to blow up any opposition against them
underhand. The discontented in the House of Commons were either
the refuse of the late Prince’s party, or the Jacobites; and even
these latter could not be supposed heartily eager against favours
being showered on their never-failing allies, the Scotch. In the
other House, the only phantom of opposition consisted in half a
dozen Jacobite Lords, and in the person of the Duke of Bedford,
between whom and his Royal Highness a coldness had arisen, as has
been mentioned. In this dilemma the Duke lighted upon a measure,
which had ample effect. Lord Sandwich was too much connected with
him, and too much detached from the Duke of Bedford, to make it
expedient to offer any overtures directly through him: but the Duke
sent him to a person[216] who had private connexions with the Duke
of Bedford, and who he knew would not be sorry to traverse Mr.
Pelham’s measures, to offer him very extraordinary anecdotes on the
Scotch affairs, which he might impart to the Duke of Bedford. It is
strange how this train caught! That person persuaded the Duke of
Bedford to accept and make use of the information, without knowing
from whom it came; and it must appear amazing, that a man who could
make so distinguished a figure as his Grace did, by the management
of the materials, should have submitted to be put in motion so
blindly!--but that was his character; when he shone in public with
most energy, he perhaps acted the least upon his own motives--but
it is proper to enter into a deduction of the Debate.

17th.--The Bill was read in the House of Lords. The Duke of Bedford
began with showing the impracticability of the measure, from
the difficulties both of maintaining a colony on the forfeited
estates, and of procuring people to settle on them. Troops can
be of no service to support them in winter, unless forts are
built; an expense that would far exceed the views of this Bill.
English would not go thither; Irish cannot be spared, for you
must not weaken the Protestant interest in that island; Scotch
Highlanders will not remove thither from their own fastnesses;
_Germans_ indeed will migrate--but not to _worse_ countries. But,
he asked, had the Ministry permitted the disloyal inhabitants to
remain upon these estates for six years since the Rebellion, and
did they now propose to banish them? Would they engraft cruelty
upon their negligence? and that in a case which decides the
inhumanity, as it would punish the oppressed, yet not derive any
benefit to the public,--the only justifiable pretence for national
severities: for what benefit will the public reap from the change
of Lords, under whom these Highlanders are to be placed by this
Bill? Indeed, he said, he feared such encouragement was given
to that country, by this and some other Bills, as would, even in
our time, produce a new Rebellion--Glasgow--the great Lords, have
received such sums, such means of new commotions, as they could
have obtained no other way--and though particular towns and persons
are pretended to be relieved, money is, through their channels,
circulated over the whole country, and we deprive ourselves of
the advantages that might accrue even from treason, when the
disaffected have contributed to despoil and impoverish their own
country. He feared Rebellion would grow a national malady! Danger
is even to be apprehended from the method of putting this Bill in
execution: should the Commissioners not act, it is a needless,
an useless Bill--if they do, what is to encourage them? power
and interest? and into what hands are you going to trust those
formidable enemies? Are you not taking the same method you took
with Lord Lovat? Will you empower more Lord Lovats to nurse up more
Rebellions? He was a single instance, and the subsidy to him a
trifle in comparison: this is a plan for the most formidable power
ever attempted hitherto to be established in that country.

He then told the House, that he was but too well founded in his
apprehensions of new commotions, both from the countenance showed
to the disaffected, and the discouragement given to the loyal. He
told them that he had in his hands a long and crying catalogue of
facts, which would prove both his assertions, and which facts
he was ready to prove. As a sample, he mentioned two cases; the
first of one John Cummings, who at the time of the late Rebellion,
being Collector at Montrose, assisted the Rebels in seizing
the Hazard sloop, for which service the titular Duke of Perth
appointed him Collector for the Pretender. This Cummings, on the
Duke’s arrival in Scotland, was imprisoned by his Royal Highness’s
command, and carried into Inverness; from thence he escaped, was
again imprisoned, but at the desire of Lord Milton was released
by Mr. Bruce, who had a power at that time to continue or to
release prisoners. This Mr. Cummings is now Collector of Excise at
Aberdeen; a place worth almost double of what he formerly enjoyed
at Montrose!

The other was the case of Hume of Munderson, a man engaged in the
former Rebellion, or, as the Scotch call it, in the _fifteen_. His
brother was executed for the last Rebellion; but he himself has
been made a General Supervisor of Excise. “My Lords,” continued
the Duke, “these are among many flagrant instances of the favour,
I may truly say, of the rewards conferred on Rebels. I can, if I
am called upon, produce many more equally striking, and of what
perhaps is still more alarming, of punishments inflicted, or
permitted to be inflicted on the well-affected to his Majesty’s
government and person. I will not now recapitulate them, nor dwell
even on the fate of Mr. Davidson, Minister of Navar, above Brechin
in the Braes of Angus, who with sixty of his parishioners was
persecuted after the Rebellion, for making bonfires on the Duke’s
birth-day, under the pretence of wilful fire-raising!”

After a pause, he said: “My Lords, these, and facts like these,
call for inquiry: what I have more to say, strikes directly at the
Bill itself, which various circumstances concur to evince, is but
a more extensive job. Such is the impropriety of the time, the end
of a session, to offer a Bill of this nature, when, so far from
having leisure to examine it, we have barely time to pass it; and
that this must have been the effect of design is evident, since the
Report of the Barons of the Exchequer, who were to examine into the
nature and state of these forfeitures, was given in so long ago as
December, 1749. The money to be raised is a most unjust burthen
upon England: the Commissioners at least, who ought to see this
Act put in execution, ought to be English. If they are not, we are
grounded to suspect that this money will be as much perverted as
other taxes have been fallaciously collected. Let us cast our eyes
but on the produce of the coach-tax in that part of the United
Kingdom; to what does it amount? for the first year to one thousand
pounds!--for the second, to what? to nothing. Must we suppose that
this burthen was so heavily felt, that the whole Nobility and
Gentry of Scotland at once concurred to lay down their equipages?
In those years England paid on the same account 60,000_l._,
58,000_l._ If such are their partialities, is it not allowable for
Englishmen to have some? Be that as it may, my Lords, let us know
what grounds there are for these complaints, for these accusations.
I move your Lordships to put off the farther consideration of this
Bill, till we have had time to inquire into facts.”

It required more art than the Chancellor possessed, to efface
the impression made by this speech. To dispute the facts would
be admitting that they ought to be examined. He thought the most
prudent method was to admit their authenticity, but to endeavour
to show that the previous examination of them was not necessary,
either in that place, or before the conclusion of the Bill. This
method he followed; it served to palliate the resolutions of a
majority of which he was secure; but had that bad effect for the
Ministry, that the Duke of Bedford’s assertion of the facts, and
the Chancellor’s admission of them, or at least his not disputing
them, left the world persuaded of their reality, and of the
timidity, indolence, or wickedness of the Administration.

The Chancellor, therefore, in a very long and elaborate speech,
said, that if what had been advanced against the Bill was true, it
was one of the worst Bills on the best plan that ever was formed.
That indeed the Bill was only a part of the plan formerly concerted
of buying the jurisdictions of the great Lords into the hands of
the Crown; and that it fell in naturally enough to that plan, as
these estates must necessarily be sold. That the only blame he
should have expected was that this Bill had not been brought in
sooner. Formerly the complaint had been that forfeited estates
were restored and given back from the Crown. That indeed he did
believe many of the claims upon these estates were fictitious:
however, they must be determined in Scotland; here is the last
place where they must be examined. That this Bill alone can
enable you to have fair purchasers; and that if the claims are
fraudulent, it is an additional reason for passing such a Bill;
otherwise, the original proprietors might re-acquire their estates
for nothing. That the great view of the Government was to destroy
clanships; his own great wish, to see the King a great Highland
landlord: that one of the chief benefits to arise from this scheme,
secondarily to the extension of loyalty, is the improvement of
the linen manufactures, an establishment at once so useful to our
trade, and so inconsistent with arbitrary principles, that there
had been but three single men of those manufacturers engaged in
the last Rebellion. That with regard to the difficulty of finding
colonists, he did not doubt but some English might be prevailed on
to settle there, probably some Lowlanders too, nay, some Irish,
if they can be spared. He believed, indeed, that the greater part
of the old inhabitants must remain at first; but that some of the
well-affected clans might be induced to transmigrate to those
settlements; and that he did not despair of reclaiming even the
present tenants, at least in the next generation of them, if they
were once emancipated from dependence on their chiefs. That the
danger from distributing money among the disaffected, formerly so
impolitic a measure of King William, must not be considered here
in that light; this is not money to bribe traitors, but to pay
lawful creditors; and that he had rather even fraudulent creditors
should enjoy this money than have the estates revert to their old
proprietors. That even the position laid down of encouragement
given to Rebellions by largesses to that country, was not true; it
was the restitution of forfeited estates which had hardened them to
attempt new commotions; but that if we were still to see repeated
insurrections, every Rebellion cuts off so much strength from the
faction. That indeed, as to the article of the Commissioners,
he wished those words, _without fee or reward_, were not in the
Bill; that he must own he saw many just grounds of complaint,
but could not approve national reflections. That to the honour
of that country he must say, the linen manufactures were carried
on by Directors who received no salary. If these Commissioners
should prove less meritorious, or more blameable, they are not for
life; they are removable. That now he must take a little notice of
the heavy accusations enforced by the noble Duke; but previously
he must observe, that it is not proper in a Debate, to raise
objections from particular facts, which people cannot be prepared
to answer. That Cummings’s case was so flagrant, that if it was
inquired into, he did not doubt but it would be remedied. But what
did this and the other instances prove, but the want of the Bill?
That another view of the Bill was, to raise towns and villages and
stations _for_ troops; not that it would take away the want _of_
troops: that the money, supposing it a large sum, was but little in
comparison of the benefits it was calculated to purchase: is it not
a little sum, if it prevents only one Rebellion?

If it was true, as the Duke of Bedford had asserted, and as he
believed it was, that the Lowland share of the forfeited estates
was not mortgaged to the full value, and that therefore they ought
to be sold altogether, and the overplus go towards the purchase,
for his part he believed nobody would advise his Majesty to sell
those estates. That he did not believe the claims would be allowed
to the extent given in; that the King, of his grace, may give the
overplus towards the purchase, but that he should not advise it: he
should rather advise that the distribution should be made to reward
loyalty; for instance, could a nobler use be made of it, than in
rewarding Sir Harry Monroe, who and whose family had done and had
suffered so much for the service of the Crown? That the last thing
of which he should take notice, was the insufficient manner in
which the taxes had been collected in that northern quarter of the
Kingdom: some method, to be sure, should be taken to make Scotland
pay her taxes; but could any Ministry ever hit upon that method?
it is not _vitium temporis_ that the Ministers have not done the
impossible thing. One good effect the very proposal of this will
have, if it points out, or leads to a remedy for the nonpayment of
these taxes.

The young Marquis of Rockingham entered into a Debate so much above
his force, and pertly applied the trite old apologue of Menenius
Agrippa, and the sillier old story of the Fellow of a College, who
asked why we should do anything for Posterity, who had never done
anything for us!

Lord Bath then joined the Duke of Bedford’s opposition, after
first reflecting on that Duke himself, who he said had entered
his complaint both ways, that the Bill had not been brought in
soon enough, and had been brought in too late. That for himself,
he could not but think the proposal of examining the claims first
very material. Should he, would any man, purchase an estate, before
he had examined the nature and validity of the incumbrances? That
on the first face of the account, he could descry false claims
and misprision. On one little estate of thirty pounds a year he
observed a mortgage of four thousand pounds. Who, he asked, had
been in possession of these 16,000_l._ per annum since they had
been forfeited? If the Government, where is the receipt? who
accounts for it? If the creditors, why is not so much struck off
from their claims? What must England say, if Scotland pays nothing
towards four million of taxes? What must she say, when the weight
of these taxes has been increased by Rebellions raised in Scotland?
But who is it, must he ask, who takes upon them to remit taxes?
Kings had been driven out for arrogating a dispensing power! where
will these partialities end? He concluded with proposing a Bill to
be enacted for punishing any frauds relative to forfeitures.

The Chancellor replied, that the Bill had been prepared as soon as
possible, and had been brought in soon after Christmas. That the
time for sale would lapse, and the estates fall to the mortgagees,
if the Bill should now be postponed. That the mortgages, though
real, could not extend beyond the value of the estates, which, he
said, was a case frequent enough in Chancery.

Then rose a man, on whom all eyes had turned during the Debate--the
Duke of Argyle. How was every expectation disappointed! As his
power was uncontrolled in Scotland; as partialities could only be
exercised under his influence, or connived at by his intrigues;
as the Bill was known to be a sacrifice made to his ascendant;
as its practicability had been questioned; who but himself was
answerable, for favour to Jacobites, for tyranny to the loyal,
for the necessity, for the utility, or for the feasibility of the
regulation in question? He looked down, seemed abashed, spoke low
and but a few words, then contemptuously, and at last said nothing
to refute the charge of partialities, or in defence of the Bill.
He only said, “What would have happened if any Scotch Lord had
spoken against it? it would have been said, they are for keeping up
their old barbarity and power. Whereas, the clans are to transfer
their allegiance to Commissioners appointed by the King during his
pleasure. If any man suspected him to be so low, as to have private
views in this, God forgive him! That with regard to taxes, such
difficulties there had been on the old tax on houses, that it had
never been paid: few counties had even named their Collectors. That
the window tax, if paid, would raise but 6000_l._, and ninety-nine
Collectors would have but fifteen shillings a piece. That on
the coach tax there was no deficience. For himself, he despised
reports.”

Lord Tweedale spoke after him, and with passion; but as nobody
expected any great lights from him, so he disappointed nobody.

The Duke of Newcastle, _flustered_ by the Duke of Bedford’s
attack, and confounded by the Duke of Argyle’s no defence, seemed
to speak only to mark his own confusion, and to enforce what the
Duke of Bedford had urged. He said he had taken minutes of the
names mentioned by his Grace, and hoped such recommendations would
be taken no more. That he had already sent the King’s orders to
apprehend some Rebels still resident in Scotland; but as yet they
could not be taken.

Thus much effect followed: Cummings and some others in the Duke
of Bedford’s list were removed. The Bill passed; but though one
great argument for driving it on had been the danger of the estates
lapsing, neither English nor Scotch Ministers chose to have it
discussed any further in Parliament. The Duke of Cumberland, who
was present, did not vote. The Court Lords were fourscore; the
minority only twelve: the Dukes of Bedford and Kingston; the Earls
of Bath, Chesterfield, Sandwich, and Macclesfield; with six Tory
Lords, the Duke of Beaufort, the Earls of Lichfield and Oxford,
and the Lords Wentworth, Ward, and Maynard. Mr. Pelham was enraged
beyond measure at the Duke of Argyle; the King charmed with the
Duke of Bedford; and both these sensations were heightened by the
Duke giving his father a list of sixty Jacobites, who had been
preferred in Scotland since the Rebellion.

26th.--The King put an end to the session; and the Speaker, in his
speech to him, launched out in invectives against the management in
Scotland.

I shall conclude the history of this Bill with the character of its
patron, not its defender, the Duke of Argyle.

Archibald Campbell, Earl of Isla, was younger brother of the
admired John, Duke of Argyle, whom he succeeded in the title,
and with whom he had little in common, but the love of command.
The elder brother was graceful in his figure, ostentatious in
his behaviour, impetuous in his passions; prompt to insult, even
where he had wit to wound and eloquence to confound; and what is
seldomer seen, a miser as early as a hero. Lord Isla was slovenly
in his person, mysterious, not to say with an air of guilt in his
deportment, slow, steady where suppleness did not better answer
his purpose, revengeful, and if artful, at least not ingratiating.
He loved power too well to hazard it by ostentation, and money
so little, that he neither spared it to gain friends or to serve
them. He attained the sole authority in Scotland, by making
himself useful to Sir Robert Walpole, and preserved it by being
formidable to the Pelhams. The former had disgusted the zealous
Whigs in Scotland by throwing himself into the arms of a man of
such equivocal principles: the Earl pretended to return it, by
breaking with his brother when that Duke quarrelled with Sir
Robert: yet one chief cause of Walpole’s fall was attributed to
Lord Isla’s betraying to his brother the Scotch boroughs entrusted
to his management in 1741. It must be told, that Sir Robert Walpole
always said, he did not accuse him. Lord Isla’s power received a
little shock by Lord Tweedale’s and Lord Stair’s return to Court
on that Minister’s retreat; but like other of Lord Orford’s chief
associates, Lord Isla soon recovered his share of the spoils of
that Administration. He had been ill with the Queen (of whom he
knew he was sure while he was sure of Sir Robert Walpole) from his
attachment to Lady Suffolk: he connected with Lord Granville,
while Lord Granville had any sway; and as easily united with the
Pelhams, when power was their common pursuit, and the humiliation
of the Duke and the Duke of Bedford the object of their common
resentment; for common it was, though the very cause that naturally
presented them to the Duke of Argyle’s hatred, their zeal and
services, ought at least to have endeared them to the brothers.

By a succession of these intrigues, the Duke of Argyle had risen
to supreme authority in Scotland: the only instance wherein he
declined the full exertion of it was, when it might have been
of service to the master who delegated it; in the time of the
Rebellion: at that juncture he posted to London: the King was to
see that he was not in Rebellion; the Rebels, that he was not
in arms. But when this double conduct was too gross not to be
censured, he urged a Scotch law in force against taking up arms
without legal authority; so scrupulously attached did he pretend
to be to the constitution of his country, that he would not arm
in defence of the essence of its laws against the letter of them.
In his private life, he had more merit, except in the case of his
wife, whom having been deluded into marrying without a fortune, he
punished by rigorous and unrelaxed confinement in Scotland. He had
a great thirst for books; a head admirably turned to mechanics;
was a patron of ingenious men, a promoter of discoveries, and one
of the first great encouragers of planting in England; most of
the curious exotics which have been familiarized to this climate
being introduced by him. But perhaps too much has been said on
the subject of a man, who, though at the head of his country for
several years, had so little great either in himself or in his
views, and consequently contributed so little to any great events,
that posterity will probably interest themselves very slightly in
the history of his fortunes.[217]

31st.--The King set out for Hanover: the Duke of Newcastle, who
attended him, would not venture himself in any yacht but the one in
which Lord Cardigan had lately escaped a great storm.

While the King was absent, a scene was opened in a remote part
of his dominions, which had not been accustomed to figure on the
theatre of politics. Ireland had for many years been profoundly
obedient to the Government. The Roman Catholics were too much
overbalanced by the power of the Protestants to be formidable: the
latter were too certain on any change of Government, to meet with
no quarter from the professors of a religion, by whose plunder
they were enriched, not to be inflexibly attached to the Prince
on the Throne. Yet the insolence or wantonness of two men, new to
power, contrived in a minute to throw that kingdom into a flame,
and to create factions, who soon imbibed all the inveteracy of
party, except disaffection. The internal councils of Ireland were
chiefly guided by Mr. Boyle, the Speaker of the House of Commons,
and Chancellor of the Exchequer, and during the absence of the
Lord-Lieutenants, one of the Lords Justices. He was vain and
popular, and as the idols of the people and of themselves generally
are, a man of moderate capacity. It had been the unvaried practice
of the Lord-Lieutenants to court this man, and to govern the House
of Commons by his interest: the steadiness of his principles was
unquestionable. Lord Harrington, the last Governor, had been much
disliked, but conforming himself to this maxim, some discontented
persons[218] had in vain attempted to give disturbance to the
King’s affairs.

He was succeeded by the Duke of Dorset, who was a man of dignity,
caution, and plausibility, and who had formerly ruled Ireland to
their universal satisfaction. But he then acted from himself; he
was now in the hands of two men most unlike himself, his youngest
son, Lord George Sackville, and Dr. George Stone, the Primate of
Ireland. The former, a man of very sound parts, of distinguished
bravery, and of as honourable eloquence, but hot, haughty,
ambitious, obstinate. The Primate, a man of fair appearance,
of not inferior parts, more insinuating, but by no means less
ambitious, had with no pretensions in the world, but by being
attached to the house of Dorset, and by being brother of Mr.
Stone, been hurried through two or three Irish Bishopricks up to
the very Primacy of the kingdom, not only unwarrantably young, but
without even the graver excuses of learning or sanctimony. Instead
of attempting to conciliate the affections of a nation offended
at his promotion, he thought of nothing but governing by the same
influence by which he had been raised. Lord George, as little
disposed to be controlled, would not stoop to the usual management
for Mr. Boyle; and he was not likely to be persuaded to observe any
attentions by the Primate, who had shaken them off himself. The
Speaker, who had not lost his taste for power by being accustomed
to it, was soon alarmed, and had an opportunity of revenge offered
to him almost as soon as the offence.

The Duke of Dorset had recommended to the Parliament to provide
more barracks for the soldiers, and to inquire into the
late abuses of the money destined to that service. This was
obliquely aimed at Lord Harrington, and intended, by casting
odium on his Administration, to heighten the popularity of the
new Lord-Lieutenant; but it had different and much further
consequences than the junto had foreseen. The money was voted; but
the Parliament, in prosecution of abuses, fell upon one Neville
Jones, a creature of the Primate, and determined to express
their aversion to that Prelate, by sacrificing his tool. When it
is told that, till the era in question, no Opposition had been
able to unite above eight-and-twenty voices in the Irish House of
Commons against the Government, it will appear surprising that the
contagion of new discontents should in a few weeks have infected
even the majority there. Faction is as capricious as Fortune:
wrongs, oppression, the zeal of real patriots, or the genius
of false ones, may sometimes be employed for years in kindling
substantial opposition to authority; in other seasons, the impulse
of a moment, a ballad, a nickname, a fashion can throw a city into
a tumult, and shake the foundations of a state. Spain, which surely
must sometimes produce some heroic, some patriot natures, has
groaned for centuries under tyranny and the Inquisition: the poor
fisherboy of Naples, Massaniello, could, in the space of two days,
set at defiance, overturn, a haughty, an armed, an established
Government. It is certain that no innovation, no unwonted exertion
of power, had provoked the Irish: but they thought themselves
contemned: they saw the channel of power totally diverted from the
natives: the indiscretion of the rulers presented a colour to the
keenest invectives that a faction could wish to employ.

The Speaker furnished himself as chief to the faction; but they had
wiser heads to direct both them and their chief. Of these were,
Carter, the Master of the Rolls, Sir Richard Cox, and Malone.
Carter had always been a Whig, but had as constantly fomented
every discontent against the Lord-Lieutenants, in order to be
bought off: an able, intriguing man, of slender reputation for
integrity. Sir Richard Cox was a patriot, and the first deviser
of the linen manufactures, which have been of such essential
service to his country. He and Malone were distinguished orators,
and had both been gained by Lord Harrington, but were neglected
by the new Court at the Castle. Malone’s family were Popish, and
his own conversion suspected. But the Speaker was for some time
the only ostensible idol of the party’s adoration: to a confessed
integrity and loyalty he united a romantic readiness for single
combat, so much to the taste of his countrymen. The Castle were
desirous of raising Mr. Ponsonby, a son of Lord Besborough, and
son-in-law of the Duke of Devonshire, to the chair. The Parliament
of Ireland, unless specially dissolved, sits during a whole reign,
and the Speaker’s dignity is of the same duration. Lord George’s
measures were apt to be abrupt: he directly offered the Speaker
a Peerage and a pension of 1500_l._ a year. The Speaker replied,
“If I had a Peerage, I should not think myself greater than now
that I am Mr. Boyle: for t’other thing, I despise it as much as
the person who offers it.” This, and some indirect threats equally
miscarrying, and the Castle finding that their creature Jones
must be the first victim, endeavoured to defer what they could
not prevent. The Speaker’s party moved for a call of the House
for that day three weeks; Lord George Sackville moved to have it
that day six weeks--and was beat! Whoever[219] has seen the tide
first turn in favour of an Opposition, may judge of the riotous
triumphs occasioned by this victory. The ladies made balls, the
mob bonfires, the poets pasquinades--if Pasquin has seen wittier,
he himself never saw more severe or less delicate lampoons. The
Address that was soon after sent over to the King, applied directly
to him, and not as was usual to the Lord-Lieutenant; and they told
his Majesty, in plain terms, that it was from apprehension of being
misrepresented. This was an unpleasant potion for the Duke of
Dorset to swallow--but we must adjourn the further account of these
dissensions to their proper place in order of time, and proceed to
open a new scene of division at home, in which one of the principal
actors was intimately connected with the Court-faction in Ireland.

In the former part of these Memoirs, it has been mentioned, that
the young Prince of Wales, on the death of his father, was placed
by the King under the care of the Earl of Harcourt, as Governor;
of Dr. Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, as Preceptor; and of Mr. Stone
and Mr. Scott, as Sub-governor and Sub-preceptor. The two former
were favourites of Lord Lincoln, the ministerial nephew: Stone
was the bosom-confidant of the Duke of Newcastle: Scott, as well
as the Solicitor-General, Murray, and Cresset, the favourite of
the Princess, were disciples of Lord Bolingbroke, and his bequest
to the late Prince. Stone, in general a cold, mysterious man, of
little plausibility, had always confined his arts, his application,
and probably his views, to one or two great objects. The Princess
could answer to all these lights: with her, he soon ingratiated
himself deeply. Lord Harcourt was minute and strict in trifles; and
thinking that he discharged his trust conscientiously, if on no
account he neglected to make the Prince turn out his toes, he gave
himself little trouble to respect the Princess, or to condescend
to the Sub-governor. The Bishop, thinking himself already Minister
to the future King, expected dependence from, never once thought
of depending upon, the inferior Governors. In the education of the
two Princes, he was sincerely honest and zealous; and soon grew to
thwart the Princess, whenever, as an indulgent, or perhaps a little
as an ambitious mother, (and this happened but too frequently),
she was willing to relax the application of her sons. These jars
appeared soon after the King’s going to Hanover: and by the season
of his return, they were ripe for his interposition.

The English Court at Rome was as little free from intestine
divisions as the Hanoverian Court at London. The Cardinal of York,
whose devotion preserved him from disobedience to his father
as little as his Princely character had preserved him from
devotion, had entirely abandoned himself to the government of an
Abbé, who soon grew displeasing to the old Pretender. Commands,
remonstrances, requests, had no effect on the obstinacy of the
young Cardinal. The father, whose genius never veered towards
compliance, insisted on the dismission of the Abbé. Instead of
parting with his favourite, the young Cardinal with his minion
left Rome abruptly, and with little regard to the dignity of his
Purple. The Holy See, which was sunk to having few more important
negotiations to manage, interested itself in the reconciliation,
and the haughty young Eminence of York was induced to return to his
father, but without being obliged to sacrifice his Abbé. As I shall
not often have occasion to mention this imaginary Court, I will
here give a cursory picture of it.

The Chevalier de St. George is tall, meagre, melancholy in his
aspect. Enthusiasm and disappointment have stamped a solemnity
on his person, which rather creates pity than respect: he seems
the phantom, which good-nature, divested of reflection, conjures
up, when we think on the misfortunes, without the demerits, of
Charles the First. Without the particular features of any Stuart,
the Chevalier has the strong lines and fatality of air peculiar
to them all. From the first moment I saw him, I never doubted
the legitimacy of his birth--a belief not likely to occasion
any scruples in one whose principles directly tend to approve
dethroning the most genuine Prince, whose religion, and whose
maxims of government are incompatible with the liberty of his
country.

He never gave the world very favourable impressions of him: in
Scotland, his behaviour was far from heroic. At Rome, where, to
be a good Roman-catholic, it is by no means necessary to be very
religious, they have little esteem for him: it is not at home
that they are fond of martyrs and confessors. But it was his
ill-treatment of the Princess Sobieski, his wife, that originally
disgusted the Papal Court. She, who to zeal for Popery, had
united all its policy, who was lively, insinuating, agreeable,
and enterprising, was fervently supported by that Court, when she
could no longer endure the mortifications that were offered to her
by Hay and his wife, the titular Counts of Inverness, to whom the
Chevalier had entirely resigned himself. The Pretender retired to
Bologna, but was obliged to sacrifice his favourites, before he
could re-establish himself at Rome. His next Prime Minister was
Murray, nominal Earl of Dunbar, brother of the Viscount Stormont,
and of the celebrated Solicitor-General. He was a man of artful
abilities, graceful in his person and manner, and very attentive to
please. He had distinguished himself before he was of age, in the
last Parliament of Queen Anne, and chose to attach himself to the
unsuccessful party abroad, and for whose re-establishment he had
co-operated. He was, when still very young, appointed Governor to
the young Princes, but growing suspected by the warm Jacobites of
some correspondence with Sir Robert Walpole, and not entering into
the favourite project of Prince Charles’s expedition to Scotland,
he thought fit to leave that Court, and retire to Avignon, where,
while he was regarded as lukewarm to the cause, from his connexion
with the Solicitor-General here, the latter was not at all less
suspected of devotion to a Court where his brother had so long been
First Minister.

The characters of the Pretender’s sons are hitherto imperfectly
known; yet both have sufficiently worn the characteristics of the
house of Stuart--bigotry and obstinacy and want of judgment. The
eldest set out with a resolution of being very resolute, but it
soon terminated in his being only wrong-headed.

The most apparent merit of the Chevalier’s Court is the great
regularity of his finances, and the economy of his exchequer.
His income before the Rebellion was about 23,000_l._ a year,
arising chiefly from pensions from the Pope and from Spain, from
contributions from England, and some irregular donations from other
Courts. Yet his payments were not only most exact, but he had saved
a large sum of money, which was squandered on the unfortunate
attempt in Scotland. Besides the loss of a Crown, to which he
thought he had a just title, besides a series of disappointments
from his birth, besides that mortifying rotation of friends, to
which his situation has constantly exposed him, as often as
faction and piques and baffled ambition have driven the great men
of England to apply to or desert his forlorn hopes, he has, in the
latter part of his life, seen his own little Court and his parental
affections torn to pieces, and tortured by the seeds of faction,
sown by that master-hand of sedition, the famous Bolingbroke,
who insinuated into their councils a project for the Chevalier’s
resigning his pretensions to his eldest son, as more likely to
conciliate the affections of the English to his family. The father,
and the ancient Jacobites, never could be induced to relish this
scheme. The boy and his adherents embraced it as eagerly as if the
father had really a Crown to resign. Slender as their Cabinet was,
these parties divided it; and when I was at Rome, Lord Winton was a
patriot at that Court, and the ragged type of a minority, which was
comprehended in his single person.

In September, the Margrave of Anspach, nephew of the late Queen,
and to whom on that relation the King had given the Order of the
Garter, wrote a circular letter to the Princes of the Empire, to
dissuade them from holding a Diet of Election, till it was declared
necessary to have a King of the Romans. The King was unlucky in
his German alliances. The Landgrave of Hesse, and the Duke of Saxe
Gotha, the one father-in-law of the Princess Mary, the other,
brother of the Princess of Wales, declared themselves against the
election.

With these disappointments, the King returned to England, and
arrived at St. James’s, November 18th. The Princess appeared
again in public, and the King gave her the same honours and place
as the Queen used to have. He was not in the same gracious mood
with others of the Court. The calamity of Lord Holderness, the
Secretary of State, was singular; he was for some days in disgrace,
for having played at blindman’s-buff in the summer at Tunbridge.
To Lord Harcourt, the King said not a word. In the beginning of
December, the Chancellor and the Archbishop sent to Lord Harcourt
that they would wait on him by the King’s command: he prevented
them, and went to the Chancellor, who told him that they had orders
to hear his complaints. He replied, “They were not proper to be
told but to the King himself,” which did not make it a little
suspicious, that even the Princess was included in his disgusts.
The first incident that had directly amounted to a quarrel, was,
the Bishop of Norwich finding the Prince of Wales reading Père
d’Orleans’s _Revolutions d’Angleterre_; a book professedly written
by the direction, and even by the communication, of James the
Second, to justify his measures.

Stone at first peremptorily denied having seen that book in thirty
years, and offered to rest his whole justification upon the truth
or falsehood of that accusation. At last it was confessed that the
Prince had the book, but it was qualified with Prince Edward’s
borrowing it of his sister Augusta. Stone acted mildness, and
professed being willing to continue to act with Lord Harcourt and
the Bishop: but the sore had penetrated too deep, and they, who
had given the wounds, had aggravated them with harsh provocations.
The Bishop was accused of having turned Scott one day out of the
Prince’s chamber, by an imposition of hands, that had at least
as much of the flesh as the spirit in the force of the action.
Cresset, the link of the connexion, had dealt out very ungracious
epithets both on the Governor and Preceptor; and Murray, by an
officious strain of strange imprudence, had, early in the quarrel,
waited on the Bishop, and informed him, that Mr. Stone ought to
have more consideration in the Prince’s family: and repeating the
visit and opinion, the Bishop said, “He believed that Mr. Stone
found all proper regard, but that Lord Harcourt, the chief of the
trust, was generally present.”--Murray interrupted him, and cried,
“Lord Harcourt! pho! he is a cipher, and must be a cipher, and was
put in to be a cipher.” A notification, however understood before
by the world, that could not be agreeable to the person destined
to a situation so insignificant! Accordingly, December 6th, Lord
Harcourt had a private audience in the King’s closet, and resigned.
The Archbishop waited on his Majesty, desiring to know if he would
see the Bishop of Norwich, or accept his resignation from his (the
Archbishop’s) hands. The King chose the latter.

The Junto did not find it so easy to fix new ciphers as to
displace the old. Dr. Johnson, the new Bishop of Gloucester, was
the object of their wishes for Preceptor; but his education with
Murray and Stone, and his principles, which were undoubtedly the
same as theirs (whatever theirs were), proved obstacles they could
not surmount. The Whigs were violently against his promotion; the
Archbishop strongly objected to him. It was still more difficult
to accommodate themselves with a Governor: the post was at once
too exalted, and they had declared it too unsubstantial, to leave
it easy to find a man, who could fill the honour and digest the
dishonour of it. Many were named; some refused it. At last, after
long waving it, Lord Waldegrave, at the earnest request of the
King, accepted it, and after repeated assurances of the submission
and tractability of Stone. The Earl was very averse to it; he was
a man of pleasure, understood the Court, was firm in the King’s
favour, easy in his circumstances, and at once undesirous of
rising, and afraid to fall. He said to a friend, “If I dared, I
would make this excuse to the King; Sir, I am too young to govern,
and too old to be governed.”--But he was forced to submit. A man
of stricter honour, or of more reasonable sense, could not have
been selected for the employment; yet as the Whig zeal had caught
flame, even this choice was severely criticized. Lord Waldegrave’s
grandmother was daughter of King James; his family were all
<DW7>s, and his father had been but the first convert.

The Preceptor was not fixed till the beginning of the new year, but
I shall include his promotion here, not to interrupt the thread
of the narration: it was Dr. Thomas, who during the first civil
war of Leicester-house, had read prayers to the present King: it
was not till within two years of this period that the King had
found an opportunity of preferring him, and then made him Bishop
of Peterborough. He was a man of a fair character, esteemed rather
a Tory in his principles. It may not be unentertaining to mention
another instance of the King’s good fortune in being able to
promote an old friend. General Legonier one day went and offered
his Majesty the nomination to a living in his gift. The King
expressed the greatest joy and gratitude, and said, “There is one I
have long tried to make a Prebendary, but my Ministers never would
give me an opportunity; I am much obliged to you, I will give the
living to him.”


FOOTNOTES:

[216] The Author of these Memoirs.

[217] Archibald Campbell, [Earl of Isla, and, on the death of his
brother,] Duke of Argyle, died suddenly in his chair after dinner,
at his house in Argyle Buildings, London, April 15, 1761.

[218] Headed by one Lucas, an apothecary, who was soon after
banished from that kingdom, and turned physician in London, where
he wrote controversy in his own profession.

[219] The Author could judge a little of this, by what he had seen
himself at the conclusion of his father’s Ministry.




1753, AND PART OF 1754.

  _Vernon._

      Then for the truth and plainness of the case,
      I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here,
      Giving _my_ verdict on the _white rose’ side_.

  _Lawyer._

      Unless my study and my books be false,
      The argument you held, was wrong in you;--(_To Somerset_)
      In sign whereof _I_ pluck a white rose too.

          _Shakesp. first Part of Henry VI._




CHAPTER X.

  Debates in Parliament at the commencement of the year 1753--The
  King of Prussia stops the payment of the Silesian Loan--The
  fictitious Memorial of several Noblemen and Gentlemen on the
  Education of the Prince of Wales--History of Lord Ravensworth
  and Fawcett--The latter’s charge of Jacobitism against persons
  holding situations under the Crown--Debate in the House of Lords
  on Fawcett’s testimony--Speeches of the Duke of Bedford, the Lord
  Chancellor, Lord Harcourt, Lord Talbot, the Bishops of Norwich
  and Gloucester, and the Duke of Newcastle.


This year, soon made remarkable by some extraordinary occurrences,
opened quietly; at least with events scarcely worth recording. A
few independents of Westminster attempted, on the death of their
representative, Sir Peter Warren, to revive an opposition to the
Court, by again presenting Sir George Vandeput to the mob; but the
idol’s holiday was past; and he himself soon declined the contest.
The Earl of Marchmont, adopted into the Court, moved the Address
in the House of Lords, but coldly and unanimated; the fire and
acrimony which made him shine in Opposition were gone, and no
grace had succeeded. In the other House, Lord Egmont reflected on
the Address, which he said, he expected would have been prudent and
discreet, but found some parts of it improper and vain-glorious:
that he believed the measures were well intended, but would prove
unsuccessful; that the College of Princes had objected to an
election of a King of the Romans; that the new memorial of the King
of Prussia, outwardly relative to the Silesian loan, was founded,
he believed, on that Prince’s dissatisfaction with our conduct in
the affair of the election; that he desired to avoid petulance, but
thought it improper to give approbation to measures as wise, in
which no wisdom had appeared, and that therefore, in wording the
Address, he would omit the words _wisdom as well as_ goodness; that
he acknowledged the goodness, not the wisdom. Mr. Pelham replied,
that he thought the noble Lord (_who was as accurate as anybody
in writing_)[220] had made a false emendation; that the purpose
of maintaining peace was all that was aimed at in the speech; who
would not own the wisdom as well as the goodness of his Majesty in
this? This is all the speech says: is it good in the King or in
Ministers to pursue bad measures? there cannot be great goodness
and little wisdom.

Feb. 9th.--Lord Egmont, in the course of the Mutiny Bill, moved to
have oaths administered to evidences on regimental Courts Martial.
He still combatted the giant of military power: Sir Henry Erskine,
the old companion of his chivalry, was now the first to oppose him.
The consideration, at the motion of Lord George Sackville, was
deferred till the report.

13th.--The Duke of Bedford moved to have the accounts of Nova
Scotia laid before the House. Lord Halifax added, that all letters
to and from the Secretary of State relative thereto should be
produced. The Duke of Newcastle opposed this, and desired that only
extracts might be brought. The Duke of Bedford artfully inflamed
this contest, praised Lord Halifax, and acquiesced.

15th.--Was published the Duke of Newcastle’s answer to the Memorial
presented by Mons. Michell, Secretary of the embassy from the King
of Prussia. This Memorial and other papers had been presented in
November and December of the preceding year, and was a pretended
justification of the Prussian King’s conduct in stopping the last
payment of the money due to the subjects of Great Britain on the
Silesian loan. This money had been borrowed of private persons in
the year 1734 by the Emperor Charles VI., and he had mortgaged to
them as a security his Revenues arising from the Duchies of Upper
and Lower Silesia, for payment of principal and interest, till the
whole debt should be discharged, which was fixed to be in the
year 1745. But no sooner was the Imperial debtor dead, than the
King of Prussia seized the province of Silesia, on the cession of
which to him in form by the treaty of Breslau in 1742, he agreed
to take the debt upon himself, and to stand exactly in the place
of the Emperor; and actually did continue to discharge part of
it; but being intent on erecting himself into a naval Power, and
as intent on traversing the views of his uncle, he had involved
himself in squabbles with England by transporting and furnishing
naval and hostile stores to France on board his Embden ships, some
of which had been taken by our men of war, some condemned, some
restored. These discussions not turning out to his satisfaction,
or he being determined not to be satisfied, at length resolved
to detain the last payment on the Silesian loan; that is, after
a certain balance had been liquidated by his own Ministers, he
stopped about 30,000_l._ of 45,000_l._ which were due, and offered
to our subjects to pay the remainder, provided they would give a
full and authentic discharge for the whole debt: a transaction
the more arbitrary and unjustifiable, as his complaints were not
dated till 1746, and the whole debt ought to have been discharged
the year before. The measure was violent and insulting, and a
glaring comment on the inconveniences resulting from our connexions
with the Continent. The great superiority of the navies of Great
Britain over the baby fleet of Prussia, the only arms by which
nations so separated could come to any discussion of interests,
was too evident for that Prince to have dared to hazard his infant
hopes in so unequal a contest, had he not been sensible that we had
a pawn on the continent with which he might indemnify himself for
any exertion of British resentment;--and indeed, while we have this
pledge staked for our good behaviour, every petty Prince who is a
match for Hanover is too powerful for England; nor is it a question
any longer what nations can cope with Great Britain, but, what
little Landgrave is too formidable to the Electorate?

With the Duke of Newcastle’s letter was delivered a confutation
of the Memorial, drawn up by Sir George Lee, Dr. Paul, the King’s
Advocate for Civil Law, Sir Dudley Rider, Attorney, and Mr.
Murray, Solicitor General. The examination was made in concert by
all, the composition solely by the last; and perhaps few pieces
in any language can stand in comparison with it, for elegance,
perspicuity, art, and argument. The genius of the author did honour
to his country in a performance of such notoriety; but perhaps the
dignity of England had been less hurt, if we had been made appear
to be less in the right. What advantage was there in having the
better of the argument against a Prince, who lay out of danger from
the resentments of Great Britain, while Hanover lay at his mercy?
It is unseemly for great nations to combat with the pen; and except
in the scholastic reign of James the First, England never dictated
to other kingdoms by a superiority in controversy. What is still
more striking, and a remark that I might, but will not often make,
scarce a murmur followed this supineness of conduct. Even those who
suffered in that tender point, their interest, seemed contented
with our pedantic victory. In the year 1743, a yellow sash worn
by the King in the field, and one or two Hanoverian prejudices as
trifling, were on the brink of raising a Civil War in this country.
In the year 1753, both national honour and national avarice could
not, did not attempt to raise so much as a Debate in the House
of Commons in their own defence! A little spark, in comparison,
kindled the flame that followed.

At the end of the last year, while the dissensions in the tutorhood
had been carried so high, an anonymous Memorial,[221] pretended to
have been signed by several Noblemen and Gentlemen of the first
rank and fortune, had been sent to five or six particular persons:
it ran in these words:

      _A Memorial, &c._

  The Memorialists represent,

  That the education of a Prince of Wales is an object of the
  utmost importance to the whole nation.

  That it ought always to be entrusted to Noblemen of the most
  unblemished honour, and to Prelates of the most disinterested
  virtue, of the most accomplished learning, and of the most
  unsuspected principles, with regard to government both in Church
  and State.

  That the misfortunes, which this nation formerly suffered or
  escaped under King Charles the First, King Charles the Second,
  and King James the Second, were owing to the bad education of
  those Princes, who were early initiated in maxims of arbitrary
  power.

  That, for a Faction to engross the education of a Prince of Wales
  to themselves, excluding men of probity, property, and wholesome
  learning, is unwarrantable, dangerous, and illegal.

  That, to place men about a Prince of Wales, whose principles are
  suspected, and whose belief in the mysteries of our Holy Faith
  is doubtful, has the most mischievous tendency, and ought justly
  to alarm the friends of their country, and of the Protestant
  Succession.

  That, for Ministers to support low men, who were originally
  improper for the high trust to which they were advanced, after
  complaints made of dark, suspicious, and unwarrantable means
  made use of by such men in their plan of education; and to
  protect and countenance such men in their insolent and unheard of
  behaviour to their superiors, is a foundation for suspecting the
  worst designs in such Ministers, and ought to make all good men
  apprehensive of the ambition of those Ministers.

  That, it being notorious that books inculcating the worst maxims
  of government, and defending the most avowed tyrannies, have been
  put into the hands of the Prince of Wales, it cannot but affect
  the Memorialists with the most melancholy apprehensions, when
  they find that the men who had the honesty and resolution to
  complain of such astonishing methods of instruction are driven
  away from Court, and that the men who have dared to teach such
  doctrines are continued in trust and favour.

  That the security of this Government being built on Whig
  principles, and alone supported by Whig zeal; that the
  establishment of the present Royal Family being settled on
  the timely overthrow of Queen Anne’s last Ministry, it cannot
  but alarm all true Whigs, to hear of schoolmasters of very
  contrary principles being thought of for Preceptors; and to see
  none but the friends and pupils of the late Lord Bolingbroke
  entrusted with the education of a Prince, whose family that Lord
  endeavoured by his measures to defeat, and by his writings to
  exclude from the Throne of these kingdoms.

  That, there being great reason to believe that a noble Lord has
  accused one of the Preceptors of Jacobitism, it is astonishing
  that no notice has been taken of a complaint of so high a nature;
  on the contrary, the accused person continues in the same trust,
  without any inquiry into the grounds of the charge, or any steps
  taken by the accused to purge himself from a crime of so black a
  dye.

  That no satisfaction being given to the Governor and Preceptor,
  who, though a nobleman of the most unblemished honour, and a
  Prelate of the most unbiassed virtue, have been treated in the
  grossest terms of abuse, by a menial servant in the family, is
  derogatory to his Majesty’s authority, under which they acted, is
  an affront to the Peerage, and an outrage to the dignity of the
  Church.

  That whoever advised the refusal of an audience to the Lord
  Bishop of Norwich, who was so justly alarmed at the wrong methods
  which he saw taken in the education of the Prince, is an enemy to
  his country, and can only mean at best to govern by a faction, or
  is himself influenced by a more dangerous faction, who intend to
  overthrow the Government, and restore the exiled and arbitrary
  House of Stuart.

  That to have a Scotchman of a most disaffected family, and
  allied in the nearest manner to the Pretender’s First Minister,
  consulted on the education of the Prince of Wales, and entrusted
  with the most important secrets of Government, must tend to alarm
  and disgust the friends of the present Royal Family, and to
  encourage the hopes and attempts of the Jacobites.

  Lastly, the Memorialists cannot help remarking, that three
  or four low, dark, suspected persons are the only men whose
  situation is fixed and permanent, but that all the great offices
  and officers are so constantly varied and shuffled about, to the
  disgrace of this country, that the best affected apprehend that
  there is a settled design in those low and suspected persons
  to infuse such jealousies, caprices, and fickleness into the
  two Ministers whose confidence they engross, as may render this
  Government ridiculous and contemptible, and facilitate the
  Revolution, which the Memorialists think they have but too much
  reason to fear is meditating.

      God preserve the King!


Of these papers, one had been sent to General Hawley, and another
to Lord Ravensworth. The former immediately carried one copy of
his to the Duke, who gave it to the King, and another to the Duke
of Newcastle, whose fright was only equalled by the noise raised
by other copies of the Memorial, which was soon dispersed. Whoever
was ill at or discontented with the Court, whoever was popular,
whoever was remarkably Whig, were said to be in the number of the
Memorialists. But why Hawley was selected for one of the first
copies, was not so easily guessed. It was well said, by somebody,
that it was judiciously intended by the author, if he meant to have
it propagated; for as Hawley could not read, he must of necessity
communicate it to others. Why Lord Ravensworth received one was
obvious. He was reckoned one of the warmest and honestest Whigs in
England. His being reckoned so, was a reason for the authors of
the Memorial to address one to him; perhaps not their only reason;
perhaps their thinking him rather a factious and interested, than
an honest Whig, was the chief inducement to them to sow their seeds
of discontent in a rank soil, which did indeed produce an ample
crop.

In the beginning of February, Lord Ravensworth came to town, and
acquainted Mr. Pelham that he had strong evidence of Jacobitism
to produce against Stone, Murray, the Solicitor-General, and Dr.
Johnson, Bishop of Gloucester. The notification was not welcome;
yet could not be overlooked nor stifled. Lord Ravensworth had
already communicated his intention of having the affair sifted
to the Duke of Devonshire, the Chancellor, Lord Anson, and Mr.
Fox, the latter of whom he had consulted, whether he should carry
the notice to the King or to the Duke. Mr. Fox told him that the
Duke never meddled out of his own province, the Army. The Ministry
determined, against the opinion of Lord Granville, that the Cabinet
Council should hear Lord Ravensworth’s information.

On the 15th, 16th, and 17th, the Cabinet Council sat long and
late, but with much secrecy, inquiring into this affair. The first
night Lord Ravensworth was heard for four hours. The purport of
his accusation was, that some few weeks before at Durham, one
Fawcett, an Attorney, reading the newspaper which mentioned the
promotion of Dr. Johnson to the Bishopric of Gloucester, said “He
has good luck!” Being asked what he meant by that expression, he
had replied, “Why, Johnson has drunk the Pretender’s health twenty
times with me and Mr. Stone and Mr. Murray.” Dr. Cowper, Dean of
Durham, who had been present at this dialogue, was called, and in a
short and sensible manner confirmed Lord Ravensworth’s account. The
conversation made no noise at the time; only Dr. Chapman, master
of Magdalen College in Cambridge, gave private intelligence of it
to Harry Vane, a creature of the accused triumvirate, and he, by
Mr. Pelham’s order, wrote to Fawcett to know the meaning of this
imputation. Fawcett denied what he had said, and acquitted the
Bishop of the charge. The clamours against Stone, on his quarrel
with the Bishop of Norwich and Lord Harcourt, and the Memorial
reaching Lord Ravensworth soon after this conversation happened, he
determined to signalize his zeal, and hastened to London, Fawcett
having confirmed to him what he had denied to Vane, but begging not
to be produced as an accuser.

16th, Fawcett was examined: never was such an instance of terror
and confusion! yet with reluctance and uncertainty he owned that
what he had uttered at Durham was true. The substance of his
evidence was, “that, about twenty years ago, Murray, then a young
Lawyer, Stone, then in indigence, and himself, had used to sup
frequently at one Vernon’s, a rich Mercer, a noted Jacobite, and
a lover of ingenious young men. The conversation was wont to be
partly literature, partly treason; the customary healths, _The
Chevalier_ and _Lord Dunbar_.”

Had the greater part of the Council not wished well to the accused,
it must have shocked them to hear a charge of such consequence
brought after an interval of twenty years, brought on memory,
the transactions of a private company, most of them very young
men, at worst flattering an old rich bachelor of no importance,
and, in their most unguarded moments, never rising beyond a
foolish libation to the healths of their imaginary Monarch and
his Minister. Considering the lengths to which party had been
carried for the last twenty years; considering how many men had
been educated at Oxford about that period, or had been in league
with every considerable Jacobite in the kingdom, if such a charge
might be brought after so long a term, who almost would not be
guilty? Who almost would be so innocent as not to have gone beyond
a treasonable toast? It was necessary to be very Whig to see Lord
Ravensworth’s accusation in an honourable light.

17th, Lord Ravensworth and Fawcett were called to sign their
Affidavits: the latter asked if he might alter his? The Chancellor
told him he might add for explanation, but not make two Affidavits.
He said, “My lords, I am fitter to die than to make an Affidavit.”
He contradicted many things that he had told Lord Ravensworth, and
behaved so tragically, yet so naturally, that the Council were too
much moved to proceed, and adjourned.

The accused were warm and earnest in denying the charge: Stone in
particular affirming, that he would allow the truth of all that
had been alleged against him for the last six months, if he had so
much as once drunk the Pretender’s health in the most envenomed
companies, even when a student at Oxford; adding many menaces of
prosecuting Fawcett for calumny. Such minute assurances from one so
suspected, or such strains of prudence in his very youth, did not
much contribute to invalidate Fawcett’s testimony in the eyes of
the world.

19th, the House of Commons went on the supply for Nova Scotia, as
opened by Lord Duplin. Colonel Cornwallis, just returned from that
Government, gave a short and sensible account of the colony, where,
he said, the trade and improvements had been carried to as great a
height as could be expected in the time. Beckford spoke strongly
in behalf of the colony, and for attending to the West Indies,
where all our wars must begin and end; that till we attended to
our Navy, we had done nothing in the last war; how preferable
this, to flinging our money into the gulf of Germany! He commended
Cornwallis, and the Board of Trade. Sir Cordel Firebrace inquired
into the state of the civil government; Cornwallis gave it. Gray
spoke for improving it. Mr. Pelham desired to have it remembered,
that the support of the colony was the sense of the House; and
he told Beckford, that if he would praise oftener where it was
deserved, his reproofs would be more regarded.

The Council sat late again that night: Fawcett collected more
resolution; said, that Lord Ravensworth had been in the right to
call upon him; that it was fact that he had been with the three
accused when the treasonable healths were drunk; that at such a
distance of time, he could not swear positively that they drank
them; but he would endeavour with time to recollect particular
circumstances.

21st and 22nd, the Council continued sitting, and heard Mr. Stone
purge himself, who, with other articles of defence, called Bishop
Hay Drummond to the character of his principles.

On the 23rd, Mr. Murray appeared before them, but rejected
impetuously the reading of the Depositions: he said, he was
positive to their falsehood, be they what they might: as he was
aware that suspicions might arise from the connexions of his
family, he had lived a life of caution beyond even what his
principles would have dictated.

Lord Ravensworth grew unquiet. Fawcett’s various and uncertain
behaviour distressed him: though the world was willing to believe
the accused Jacobites, the evidence did not tend to corroborate
the opinion: was drinking a treasonable health all the treason
committed by men from whom so much danger was apprehended? Were no
proofs of disloyalty more recent than of twenty years to be found
against men who were supposed involved in the most pernicious
measures? If no acts of a treacherous dye could be produced against
them since they came into the King’s service, might it not well
be supposed, that their views and establishment under the present
Government had washed out any stains contracted by education or
former adulation? and it did appear that Vernon the Mercer had
actually made Murray the heir of his fortunes. Lord Ravensworth
consulted the Speaker, who advised him to establish his own truth,
in having received the advertisement from Fawcett--but neither was
that denied, nor the drinking the healths disbelieved, though both
Stone and Murray at the last session of the Council on the 26th,
when the latter made an incomparable oration, took each a solemn
oath, that the charge was absolutely false.

The Council made their report to the King, signed unanimously,
that Fawcett’s account was false and scandalous--yet the Duke
of Grafton, one of the unanimous, owned to Princess Emily, that
Fawcett being asked if he had seen Mr. Murray since he had been in
town, confessed he had, that he had been sent to him by Harry Vane.
“What did Mr. Murray say to you?” “He advised me to contradict
what I had said.” And the Chancellor, who communicated the whole
transaction to the Duke of Bedford, seemed to own Mr. Murray
guilty. How his jealousy of Murray, and his mean court to Stone,
made him choose to distinguish between them, will appear still more
strongly hereafter.

The King’s acceptance of Lord Ravensworth’s zeal was by no means
gracious. Whether those frowns provoked, whether the Cabinet
censure might inflame, whether disappointment from the ill success
of such notable policy had soured, or whether he was still
persuaded that the House of Hanover was in danger by employing
men who had had such dangerous connexions in their youth with a
Jacobite Mercer, Lord Ravensworth was eager and busy in blowing
up farther and more public inquisition. His temper was naturally
hot; he was reckoned honest; two strong motives to prevent his
acquiescing calmly to the disgrace he had received. His manner
of prosecuting his measure, whatever was the end, was neither
warm nor over-righteous. He tampered with the Duke of Bedford,
communicated his papers to him, and even told him that it would
not be disagreeable to him to be called upon in the House of Lords
to explain his conduct. Yet to others he protested that he had no
dealings with the Duke. His Grace was warned of this intricate
behaviour; yet being still warmer than Lord Ravensworth, and
incapable of indirect policy himself, he slighted the notice; and
on March 16th, acquainted the Lords, that on the Thursday following
he should move for the papers relating to the examination of Stone
and Murray. This was a strain of candour a little beyond what
was exacted by honour or policy. If the notification exceedingly
embarrassed the Ministry, it must be owned that the measures they
concerted, from the time given them by the Duke, were as discreet
and artful as could be devised.

The 22nd was the day of expectation. The House was crowded. The
Duke of Bedford began with observing that the public attention
had been so engrossed by the late Cabinet Councils, that he was
not surprised at the multitude he found assembled to hear the
discussion, or at least to get some light into an affair, which,
though touching the public so nearly, had been wrapt in such
mysterious secrecy: such solemn councils held on treason, yet so
little known of either accusation or process!--the effects indeed,
the acquittal and the continuation of confidence, were divulged and
notorious. His difficulties in a disquisition of this tender nature
were great; difficult it was for him, after repeated obligations,
to name the name of his Majesty--yet, if ever he should suggest
a doubt, he could only mean his Majesty’s Ministers. It is the
very spirit of the Law, the King can do no wrong--and not only
the language of Law and of Parliament, it was the language of his
heart--his experience of the King had taught it him: his Majesty
cannot err, but when facts are not fairly stated to him. Those who
state them unfairly, may misrepresent me. “The notoriety,” said
the Duke, “that an inquest of treason had been in agitation, made
me conclude that it must be brought hither for our advice--could I
doubt but it would? What other Judicature is there for crimes and
criminals of this high nature? The incompetence of the Lords who
had been assembled for this trial was evident: can the Cabinet
Council condemn? Can they acquit? if they cannot condemn nor
acquit, can they try? or who that is accused, is innocent, till he
has had a more solemn purgation than their report can give him?
But if no character can be purified by their verdict, what becomes
of their own? My Lords, what a trust is reposed in the Cabinet
Council! Can they be at peace till their opinions are sanctified by
our sentence? But why do I talk of their satisfaction? the nation
has a right to be satisfied. Here is an accusation of treason
brought against men in such high and special trust, that the
Councils of his present Majesty, and the hopes of the nation in the
successor, are reposed in them: and this charge brought by a Lord
of Parliament, who--but it is not for me to enter upon facts; the
Lord himself is present, and has given me leave to call upon him:
he showed me papers, though he said, he was fully satisfied that he
had cleared his own character--I call upon that noble Lord to give
your Lordships the necessary information.”

Lord Ravensworth, not from want of any facility of expressing
himself, for his manner was natural and manly, but from perplexity
of mind, whether to own or not to own that he had instigated
the Duke of Bedford to this examination, was ambiguous and
unsatisfactory; and he endeavoured to cover his ungenerous
behaviour to that Duke with frankness and candour. He said, that
by the King’s consent, he had received what papers he thought
necessary, that is, he had received his own examination and the
report--indeed, he had not been permitted to have a copy even of
Harry Vane’s letter. For his part, he had determined to proceed
no farther. When the Duke of Bedford asked him, he had shown him
the examination, not the report. That he had told his Grace that
it would not be disagreeable to him to have the whole world know
the story, and let them judge on it. That he should never have
sought this discussion, yet could not but be glad of it. That
so many aspersions had been thrown on him, that he believed his
story had never been twice told in the same manner. That he had
represented to the Ministers, as was his duty, what he had heard,
and had left it to them to proceed upon as they should think
proper--that, now he was called upon, he was willing to lay open
the whole to their Lordships, provided they would allow him to name
a Lord of Parliament, who was concerned in the affair, and was now
present--but must first desire that they would let himself be sworn
to the strict veracity of what he should say.

The Duke of Bedford told him, that as the Lord was present, he
might name him, unless it was opposed; that the Lord, if he thinks
proper, may retire: that it would be very irregular for Lord
Ravensworth to be sworn. The Duke of Newcastle said, that he
supposed it proceeded from the Bishop’s ignorance of the forms of
the House, that he had not risen and given leave to be named; but
that he would answer for his Lordship’s permission. The Bishop of
Gloucester (the person hinted at) pleaded ignorance of forms, and
consented to the free mention of his name. Lord Ravensworth told
him, that as he was perfectly acquitted, the Lords would be ready
to do him justice. Lord Ravensworth then told the story shortly,
clearly, well: that company having dined with the Dean at Durham on
the King’s birth-day, as two of them, Fawcett and a Major Davison,
were drinking coffee with the Dean in the evening, and reading
a newspaper which mentioned a report that Dr. Johnson was to be
Preceptor[222] to the Prince of Wales, Fawcett said, “He has good
luck! twenty years ago he was a Jacobite.” That this conversation
had seemingly been forgot: but that on the 12th of January
following, as he (Lord Ravensworth) was at a Club at Newcastle
with Fawcett, the latter had showed him a letter from Harry Vane,
inquiring into the meaning of those words. That he recollected
no particulars of the letter--and he said with emphasis, _This
letter, my Lords, I have not_. It only, as far as he remembered,
expressed that Mr. Vane was desired and authorized by Mr. Pelham to
inquire into that conversation, as it had occasioned some talk. He
dwelt on his great regard to Mr. Pelham, and said, that urged by
that motive, he had desired Fawcett to come to him the next day;
that he had exhorted him to stick to the truth, and in four several
conversations had always found him uniform. In those conversations
he added the names of Mr. Stone and Mr. Murray--then, my Lords, I
took it up; it then grew important. I feel none higher, none of
more moment than Mr. Stone. That he had advised Fawcett to write
no answer, but to go to Mr. Pelham; he went. That what tended to
confirm his own suspicions, and led him to believe the imputed
connexion, was his finding, upon inquiry, that Vernon had been a
notorious Jacobite; that Mr. Murray had been Vernon’s sole heir.
That some other incidents had not weakened his doubts; that Mr.
Murray had advised Fawcett to let the affair drop; that Bishop
Johnson said Fawcett had acquitted him in a letter written to him;
the letter had been written to the Bishop, but his Lordship stood
by while Fawcett wrote it. That soon afterwards the Bishop would
have persuaded Mr. Fawcett to add these words, _and this is all I
can say consistent with truth_. Fawcett refused. He concluded with
saying, “My Lords, I was not the accuser; I told the Ministers,
that, having come to the knowledge of the accusation, I was
determined to bring the affair to light in some shape or other. I
did it from duty and from zeal, not, as has been said, to revenge
the quarrel of a noble Lord,[223] my friend, who has quitted a
shining post on some disgusts with some of the persons involved in
this charge.”

The Duke of Bedford observed, that Lord Ravensworth had made some
omissions in his narration, of which, as he had given him leave, he
would put him in mind--to which the other replied hastily, that he
had communicated nothing to the Duke from the last papers he had
received, only from his own examination. The Duke owned that he
had not seen the report; but took notice that Lord Ravensworth had
forgot to mention that Fawcett had kept no copy of Vane’s letter,
and that Fawcett had owned to the Council that he had given Lord
Ravensworth all the information which the latter affirmed to have
received from him. The Chancellor, who was to conduct the solemn
drama of the day, took care to keep off all episodes that might
interfere with the projected plan of action, and interrupted the
two Lords, by laying it down for order, that Lord Ravensworth must
not repeat what he had only _heard_ passed in Council. But this
authoritative decision was treated as it ought to be by the Duke
of Bedford, who with proper spirit launched out upon the indecent
assumption of power in the Council, a step that added double
weight to the reasons for bringing this matter before Parliament.
That indeed even the Chancellor’s supposing it had been brought
before the _Council_ was an unfounded assertion; that he denied
its being the _Council_; it was only a private meeting of certain
Lords--were they a Committee of Council? as such was it, that they
arrogated the power of tendering oaths, and listening to voluntary
evidences? if they were, the President of the Council should have
presided--but here was no President, no forms, no essence, no
authority of Council. In their own persons only these Lords were
respectable. The Secretary of State is no Justice of Peace. An
unheard-of jurisdiction had been attempted to be erected, unknown
to this country, derogatory from the authority of this House!
Before this revived Star-chamber, this Inquisition,--different
indeed from the Inquisition in one point, for the heretics of this
court were the favourites of it!--before this court the accused
were admitted to purge themselves upon oath--a leading step to the
introduction of perjury! But what was the whole style of their
proceedings? mysterious! secret! arbitrary! cruel! The minutes are
secreted; the witnesses were held in a state of confinement:[224]
Lord Ravensworth was required to deliver up letters: orders for
filing informations against Fawcett were given--or said to be
given--“for I doubt the intention of carrying them into execution,”
said the Duke: “though, if they are pursued, the hardship on
Fawcett will be the greater, as he is already pre-judged.” The
report, concise as it was, was three-fold: it pronounces Fawcett’s
accusation false and malicious; it pronounces the accused innocent;
it justifies Lord Ravensworth, the accuser! how many powers
assumed! Fawcett, though a lawyer, was terrified at such a court!

“It was their proceedings,” the Duke said, he blamed; he had great
regard for more than half of the Lords concerned, yet he must say
they had erred greatly, if their proceedings were anything more
than preparatory. However, these transactions did not strike him
more than the high rank of the accused. Mr. Stone stands in as
public a light as any man in Britain--there are other points in
which the public should be satisfied too--for his part he had
never conferred with the reverend and noble Lords,[225] who had
lately retired from that important turbulent scene, yet he owned
their resignations had already filled him with suspicions. They had
been dismissed for no misbehaviour: he hoped they would vouchsafe
to lay their motives before the House, that, _in this acquitting
age_, they too may be disculpated--nay, the Council too should
be disculpated; it should be manifest that they were not biased,
and that their report is fit to see the light. Seen to be sure it
will be; it cannot be meant to be secreted. Till it is produced,
the world is left to perplexity, to argue in the dark--till more
is known, one is apt to dwell on the uniformity of Fawcett’s
behaviour for four different times--no deviation, no inconsistence
in his narrative, till after his interviews with Bishop Johnson
and Mr. Murray--then it grew retrograde--then he faltered in his
evidence--this gives suspicion; this calls for the whole system of
the Council’s procedure--how to produce that properly he did not
know.

“You all wish the accused may be cleared; assist me, my Lords, in
dragging into light every testimonial of their innocence: it is our
natural business; and at the same time no business more arduous
on which to give the King advice. Here he may want it; sinister
advices may make our unbiased, honest opinions more necessary,
more welcome.” The noble Lord who presided lately over the
education of the Prince, has been as well replaced as possible; the
choice was the more acceptable, as it was his Majesty’s own--_he_
can do no wrong; he always acts right, when he acts himself. The
time is proper for inquiring into this affair; it is no longer
under examination; nor could he be told, as he generally was,
“_we have a clue: don’t stop us: these are the King’s secrets_.”
This inquiry can be attended with no inconvenience; it may be
attended with good: the King desires to have the accused persons
cleared. For the papers that are denied, they must be produced
in Westminster-hall, if Fawcett is prosecuted--there _the King’s
secrets_ must come out. That now was not merely the proper, it
was the only time for searching into the character of the person
entrusted with the education of the Prince--should a minority
happen (and sorry he was he had not been able to be present and to
give his dissent to a Bill of so pernicious a precedent and nature
as the Regency Bill!) if that dreaded contingency should happen,
might not they who are possessed of the person and authority of the
King,--might not they, however suspected, however accused, shelter
themselves under the clause of præmunire; a clause calculated
not to guard the person of the Prince, but the persons of his
Governors from danger? He moved for all the papers, examinations,
and letters, that had been before the Cabinet Council.

The Chancellor, with acrimonious tenderness, began with protesting,
that he should have taken this for a factious motion, had it not
come from a Lord of so unsuspected a character--but he would enter
at once into the matter. Lord Ravensworth had applied to have
the affair examined, and his Majesty had ordered his Council to
inquire into it. Mr. Stone had made the deepest asseverations of
his innocence; nay, he went so far as to beg that the distance of
time might be thrown out of the question, and that if the least
tittle of the accusation could be proved against him, his guilt
might be considered as but of yesterday. That the term _Cabinet_
Council, said to be borrowed from France, was no novelty; that it
was to be found in the Journals of Parliament. That the Duke of
Devonshire being added by his Majesty’s particular order on this
occasion, was not unprecedented. That it had been called by our
ancestors, sometimes the Cabinet for Foreign Affairs; sometimes
the Cabinet for Private. How they corresponded as a Council in
Queen Elizabeth’s time might be seen in Forbes’s State Papers.
That they had not proceeded by compulsory summons: that it had
been determined in Westminster-hall, that a Secretary of State
may administer oaths. That Magistrates indeed might not accept
the oath of an accused person: here in truth their oaths had been
accepted now by an act of grace, which was the more excusable,
as they were subject to no punishment from the Council that
examined them. That this had been an inquiry for satisfaction,
not for prosecution: that their oaths was the only satisfaction
to be obtained: Vernon was dead; nobody else was present at these
pretended treasonable meetings, (this was false, for he presently
afterwards urged in their favour, that Mr. Cayley, who is living,
and used to be present, had been examined, and could remember
no such passages;) that the oaths had not been administered by
authority, but admitted at their own desire. He commended the great
solemnity of the proceedings, and added, we have all of us the
King’s leave to answer any questions.

He dwelt on the prevarications and inconsistence of Fawcett’s
behaviour, who had often said that he could not charge anybody but
himself. He then turned to encomiums on the zeal and conduct of Mr.
Stone during the Rebellion; and mentioned Mr. Cayley’s evidence.
Slightly he mentioned Mr. Murray, who, he said, had always behaved
in his court in an irreproachable and meritorious manner from the
year 1742. (Servile was this court to Stone; envious this transient
approbation of Murray!) He added, that no orders had been given for
the prosecution of Fawcett--but in a higher tone he talked of the
impropriety of the Motion: that no prerogative was so appropriate
to the King as the government of his own family: that ten Judges
had declared for it[226]--therefore, you will not wantonly invade
it--have you any distrust of the Lords who have sifted this matter?
to what good end would further inquiry tend? That much he was
surprised how the Regency Bill came to be drawn into the question!
Is there one word in that Bill of the Governors of the Prince of
Wales? He never knew that the noble Duke had disapproved that Bill.
He reflected with pleasure on the many converts that had been made
from Jacobitism, and hoped that by raking into old stories their
Lordships would not prevent and discourage change of principles:
that it would make those who were willing to come over to the pale
of loyalty dread parliamentary inquiries hanging over their heads:
they would never think themselves safe: and it would be ungenerous
to exclude men of any principles from enjoying the sunshine and
blessings of such a Reign and Government--for his part he hated
names and distinctions, and to stifle any attempts for reviving
them would give his negative to the Motion.

Lord Harcourt rose next, and though a little abashed as never
accustomed to speak in public, said, with great grace and
propriety, that he thought the King had the best right to judge in
his own family; that he had communicated to his Majesty alone the
reasons of his dissatisfaction in the government of the Prince:
his Majesty had not thought his reasons good; he had therefore
resigned a post which he thought he could not hold with credit and
reputation.

If the decency and consistency of this speech had wanted a foil, it
would have found it in Lord Talbot’s subsequent harangue; who said,
that if the Motion had come from a person of less known integrity,
he should have thought it dictated by a spirit of confusion. That
some indeed love the Crown, some a jumble of Administrations. That
a very sensible man drunk, may make a very good Jacobite: that he
knew Fawcett, and had had a good opinion of him; but that often
where he thought there was most perfection, he had found least.
That he would not have acted like Lord Ravensworth--yet--(what a
_yet_ after such a prelude!) shall a private Council exclude the
activity of the greater? The management of the Royal Children is
of public import: shall the Council engross the direction of them?
Hereafter, if this precedent is suffered, a cabal of Ministers
will be worse than the Star-chamber. The precedent will be used to
stifle all inquiries against sycophants, by applying to the Crown
to appoint a trial by the Cabinet Council.

Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, the late Preceptor, with no less
decency than Lord Harcourt, but with a little more artful desire
of inflaming the prejudice against Stone and Murray, said that
he would not declare the reasons of his resignation till he
should be forced. That all he would say was, that he had met with
obstructions from inferiors, _most cruel obstructions_. That he did
not think himself at liberty to appeal from the King, _yet would
willingly tell if he was obliged to it_. This insinuating offer the
Duke of Bedford had not the presence of mind to take up; and the
Bishop’s gauntlet not being challenged, he could not with propriety
go any farther. Perhaps the Ministry had not more reason to triumph
on the event of the day, than on the Duke of Bedford’s overlooking
so fair an opening into their most vulnerable part!

At last rose the Bishop of Gloucester. If provocation often
sharpens the genius, it did not in his case. Yet he was not
confused, he was insolent: he spoke like a man that had governed
children,[227] not like one fit to govern them. His language
and circumstances were vulgar and trivial; he dwelt more on his
housemaid letting in Mr. Fawcett when he came to him, than on any
part of his defence. He said, he did not doubt but their Lordships
would treat this accusation with the abhorrence it deserved. That
for himself, he yielded to many on the Bench for capacity, he would
not to any in loyalty. That he had had promises of favour formerly
from his Grace of Bedford, and hoped he had not forfeited them:
that it was not true that there had long been a scheme of making
him Preceptor; that [he] himself had never heard of it till he was
at the Hague, and then he was told of such a design by a noble
Duke, who had heard it from a noble Lord, who had heard such a
report--but not one of his own friends had thought of it for him:
that if his Majesty had designed it, he did not know it. That in
the Roman state, when informers were most rife, yet nothing had
happened of this kind. He insisted on the badness of Fawcett, and
affirmed that he did not dictate to him the letter for himself,
though he owned he stood by while Fawcett wrote it; and that two
days afterwards, when he desired Fawcett to add some words to it,
they were not, _This is all I can say consistent with truth_, but,
_This is the truth_.

Lord Ravensworth entirely acquitted the Bishop, and added this
extraordinary problem, that Fawcett’s character was so bad only
from its being so good. He desired to know of all the Lords,
whether they did not acquit him; and whether they did not believe
that Fawcett had told him all he had announced.

Of the Duke of Newcastle’s speech, an hour in length, I shall
touch but a few of the most remarkable passages, such as, after
acquitting Lord Ravensworth, were his panegyric on Harry Vane, _who
never said a false thing, or did a bad one_! and another, scarce
less exaggerated, on the Duke of Devonshire’s _sagacity_, for which
his Majesty had ordered him to be added to the Council. Of his own
immediately going to the King, and saying, “Sir, I am come to keep
my promise; that you should be the first to hear any complaints
against Stone; if he is a Jacobite, he is a greater traitor to
me than to you.” How Stone, who had had the fate of kingdoms in
his breast, had desired to have the accusation examined, and to
be sequestered from his attendance on the Prince of Wales, till
he should be acquitted; and lastly, how these stories had been
propagated by cabal and intrigue, and by the anonymous Memorial
sent assiduously all over the kingdom, full of falsities and
irreverence to the King; and which General Hawley, as was his duty,
had brought to him within an hour after receiving it.

At last opened the solemnity of the scene! the Chancellor’s
hackneyed sophistries, the Bishop of Gloucester’s pedantic scorn,
and the Duke of Newcastle’s incongruous volubility, were rightly
judged or foreseen to want a proper weight on so serious an
occasion. To raise the comely pompous dignitaries of the Cabinet
Council, and make them break their long mystic silence in favour
of the accused, was a resource that did honour to the policy, as
it effectually did the business, of the secret junto. The Duke of
Marlborough first, and then the Archbishop, rose and gave short
accounts of their having fully agreed in the sentence and report of
the Council. Lord Waldegrave, with decency and spirit, commended
Stone, spoke highly of the young Prince, and added, that he would
not act a moment longer as Governor, than he should find Mr. Stone
a man of honour, principles, and integrity. Dr. Hay Drummond,
Bishop of St. Asaph, and brother of Lord Duplin, made a very
elegant and eloquent speech in behalf of the accused. The Marquis
of Hartington and the Duke of Dorset gave their testimonials, like
the two former,[228] to the acts of the Cabinet Council. Lord
Granville added to his, “That innocence was no defence against
temporary clamour; it will blow over: but I don’t like Mr. Stone’s
desiring to have it heard any farther; it would be making ourselves
an inquisition. Some often accuse others, to come at a third
person. I love my Lord Harcourt for what he said.” The Duke of
Grafton, too, bore his testimony.

The Duke of Bedford rose again, and said, that if he had been
angry, he had had time to cool: and must say, on the utmost
deliberation, and with the greatest attention to what he had heard,
that he had not found sufficient reason to acquit the accused
persons, and for this strong reason, amongst others, that it
remains evident that the Bishop of Gloucester had tampered with
Fawcett--do the innocent tamper with evidence? as little could he
agree with the Duke of Newcastle, who said he would be guilty to
be so acquitted by the Chancellor--Newcastle interrupting him,
that he had only said, he would be suspected; the Duke of Bedford
rejoined, that when his Grace had gone so far, it was no wonder if
he had gone a little farther; but so far from agreeing even to that
modification, he would not be suspected by one man, to be acquitted
by that whole House. That, when he had been of the Cabinet Council,
he had never known such a thing as their sitting on a trial. That
the Duke of Newcastle had told them almost the whole examination;
what can induce their Lordships still to refuse to ask for it? That
he had been particularly called upon to make this Motion; that
the nation demands it; that the very Parliament of Paris would
go into such an examination. That if any, in so high a trust as
the care of the Prince of Wales, are suspected, can it be called
a point of domestic concern only? can it be deemed so domestic
as to forbid public inquiry? That he must still urge that Fawcett
had never prevaricated, till the Bishop had been with him--but if
his Lordship is really desirous of purging himself of this charge,
let him promote this Motion: here he will be sure of the most
impartial trial, of the most open, and consequently of the most
satisfactory acquittal. “To prompt witnesses to prevaricate--to
stifle inquiry--these arts will not quiet the suspicions of
mankind. A more manly way it had been to have said, we did drink
these healths, we were as Jacobite as it is pretended we were, but
we are converted--but, my Lords,” concluded the Duke, “it is not to
prove that these healths were drunk that I contend--if any part of
the charge is true, more is true.”

Lord Bath objected to any farther examination of a man who had
so prevaricated with the Cabinet Council, whose proceedings, he
said, were not only sufficient, but not unprecedented. That he
had once been examined so himself, with Sir Paul Methuen and Mr.
Cholmondeley, and that they had been examined separately; it was in
relation to one Lewis, a clerk to Lord Oxford, who, by mistake for
one Levi, a Jew, had been suspected of negotiations with the Court
of St. Germains: it was in the Queen’s time, and she had referred
it to the Cabinet Council.

Lord Northumberland perceiving it was a day for great men to stand
forth, thought it a good opportunity to announce his own dignity;
but he said little to the purpose. Still less was said by the young
Marquis of Rockingham, though he had prepared a long quotation from
Tacitus about informers; and opened with it.

The Duke of Argyle sneered at Ministers out of place--not at
future Ministers, for he was profuse in flattery to Stone, who,
till lately, he had never heard had an enemy! that, during the
Rebellion, happening to be at the Secretary’s office, two men came
to solicit Mr. Stone for a place; the refused went away the better
pleased of the two, from Mr. Stone’s gracious manner of refusing!

Lord Anson bore his testimony to the unanimity and report of
the Cabinet Council. Dr. Madox, of Worcester, ungraciously
and rudely said, that though it might be right to countenance
converts, yet would it be wrong to entrust the whole to one,
who had been a Jacobite. That there were great dissatisfactions
already: what would ensue, if a Star-chamber were erected to
protect the most unpopular? why not remove Mr. Stone to any other
employment? let him come and take his place among your Lordships.
He added, that great would be the hardship on Fawcett, if tried
in Westminster-hall; for what Jury but would be influenced by the
authority and decision of the Council? Lord Holderness notified
his assent to the proceedings of the Cabinet Council. The Bishop
of Worcester and Lord Sandys had some jarring; and then Lord
Ravensworth put a period to this solemn mummery, in which he had
acted such various parts, by saying that he was satisfied with his
acquittal; that he thought nothing farther necessary to his honour;
would take no farther part; did not desire anybody else would;
would leave it here--and went away! A silence of confusion ensued
for some minutes; nobody rising to speak, the Duke of Bedford, Lord
Townshend, Lord Harcourt, and the Bishop of Worcester, went below
the bar to divide, and the Bishop of Norwich was going; but no more
following, they gave it up without telling the House; all the Tory
Lords keeping their seats to vote for Stone and Murray.


FOOTNOTES:

[220] Lord Egmont had written some pamphlets against the Pelhams.

[221] It was written by the Author of these Memoirs.

[222] Lord Ravensworth at first, as is mentioned, p. 266, thought
that Fawcett’s observation on Dr. Johnson’s promotion, had been in
relation to the Bishopric; but on recollection and discussion, it
appeared to have related to the intention of making him Preceptor
to the Prince of Wales.

[223] Lord Harcourt.

[224] The Dean of Durham (Dr. Cowper) and the others were literally
detained privately in separate rooms for several hours; yet Murray,
one of the accused, as it appeared, had evidently tampered with
Fawcett the accuser, and seen him at his own house; so had Dr.
Johnson.

[225] Bishop of Norwich and Lord Harcourt.

[226] In the late King’s reign, on the difference between his
Majesty and the Prince.

[227] He had been one of the Masters of Westminster School.

[228] The Duke of Marlborough and the Archbishop.




CHAPTER XI.

  Seizure of Dr. Archibald Cameron, an emissary of the
  Pretender--The King of France and his Mistresses--The famous
  Marriage Bill--Charles Townshend and Henry Conway--Debates on the
  Marriage Bill in the House of Commons--Ralph the Author--Debates
  on the Marriage Bill in the Lords--Dissensions caused by it--The
  Duke of Newcastle’s Conversations with Mr. Fox--Execution of
  Dr. Cameron--Continuation of the troubles in Ireland--Seats in
  Parliament offered to Government--The Jew Bill--Death of Mr.
  Pelham.


About this time was taken in Scotland, Dr. Archibald Cameron,
a man excepted by the Act of Indemnity. Intelligence had been
received some time before of his intended journey to Britain,
with a commission from Prussia to offer arms to the disaffected
Highlanders, at the same time that ships were hiring in the north
to transport men. The fairness of Dr. Cameron’s character, compared
with the severity he met from a Government, most laudably mild to
its enemies, confirmed this report. That Prussia, who opened its
inhospitable arms to every British Rebel, should have tampered
in such a business was by no means improbable. That King hated
his uncle--but could a Protestant Potentate dip in designs for
restoring a Popish Government?--of what religion is policy? to
what sect is royal revenge bigoted? The Queen-dowager, though
sister of our King, was avowedly a Jacobite, by principle so--and
it was natural: what Prince but the single one who profits by the
principle can ever think it allowable to overturn sacred hereditary
right? It is the cause of sovereigns that their crimes should be
unpunishable. Two sloops were stationed to watch; yet Cameron
landed; and was taken with difficulty: an officer and ten men
pursued him: they divided--yet wherever they turned, they found
children posted, who ran swiftly and screamed to give notice. At
last they overtook a boy who had hurt his foot; and by him were
directed to a house in a wood; yet the Doctor was gone; but, on the
wood being surrounded, was taken.

By the very loyal, consequences equally threatening were feared
from a new amour of the King of France, who had taken a mistress
of Irish extraction, the daughter of a shoemaker, formerly a
life-guardsman: her name, Murphy, and of signal beauty. Madame
Pompadour was a friend to peace and England. This deviation in the
Monarch’s constancy was, however, of transitory duration. With
scarce complaisance, with no affection, he had for many years
confined himself to his homely, elderly, unattractive queen. All
the intrigues of a gallant Court, or of interested factions, had
not been able to undermine his conjugal regularity, for it was
no more. Accident threw him into the arms of Madame de Mailly, a
sensible woman, a fine figure, but very plain; he demanded not
beauty, and became as regular as with the Queen. To engage him
more, that is, to govern him, Madame de Mailly associated to their
suppers her sister, Madame de Vintimille, a woman of great wit,
but exceedingly ill-proportioned with beauty--a great oversight in
an ugly woman, who had dispossessed an ugly one. The coadjutrix
soon displaced her introductress; but died in labour; of poison,
as the state of intrigues would of course suppose. The Monarch
hankered about the same family, and took a third sister, who was
gloriously beautiful, and whom he created Duchesse de Chateauroux.
In the triumph of her concubinage, the King fell ill at Metz.
Fitz-James, Bishop of Soissons, attacked a frightened piety, which
was natural, and only subdued by constitution. The mistress was
not only discarded, but publicly affronted, the Monarch permitting
it; and the Queen, who was sent for, made a foolish triumphal
entry to thank the Lord for the recovery of the King’s soul and
body--but as soon as the latter was re-established, the Queen was
sent to her prayers, the Bishop to his diocese, and the Duchess
was recalled--but died suddenly. Though a jealous sister may be
supposed to dispatch a rival, can one believe that Bishops and
Confessors poison?

Madame Pompadour, the wife of a Fermier General, succeeded:
grace, beauty, address, art, ambition, all met in that charming
woman. She governed him more than he had ever been governed but
by Cardinal Fleury: she engaged in all politics, she gave life
and agreeableness to all; she amassed vast treasures herself, she
was the cause of squandering vast treasures, in varying scenes of
pleasure to divert the gloom of a temper which was verging nearer
to the age of devotion. The Clergy hated her, for she countenanced
the Parliament; the people imputed oppressions to her; the Dauphin,
who was a bigot, and who loved his mother, affected to shock her:
yet the King, who was the best father in the world, bore with great
mildness so unpleasant an attack on royal and parental authority.

The session of Parliament was languishing towards a conclusion,
when a Bill sent down from the Lords to the Commons, and which had
passed almost without notice through the former House, having been
carried by an hundred Lords against the Duke of Bedford and eleven
others, raised, or gave occasion to raise, extraordinary heats.
This was the famous _Marriage Bill_; an Act of such notoriety,
and on which so very much was said at the time, and on which so
much has been written since, that it would be almost impossible,
at least very wearisome, to particularize the Debates, and very
unnecessary to enter much into the state of the question. Some of
the most particular passages, such as tend to illustrate or explain
the characters, the politics, and the factions of the time, I
shall, according to my custom, succinctly touch.

The Bill had been originally moved by my Lord Bath, who, attending
a Scotch cause, was struck with the hardship of a matrimonial case,
in which a man, after a marriage of thirty years, was claimed by
another woman on a pre-contract. The Judges were ordered to frame a
Bill that should remedy so cruel a retrospect. They did; but drew
it so ill, and it was three times printed so inaccurately, that the
Chancellor was obliged to give it ample correction. Whether from
mere partiality to an ordinance thus become his own, or whether
in shaping a law, new views of power opened to a mind fond of
power, fond of dictating; so it was, that the Chancellor gave all
his attention to a statute into which he had breathed the very
spirit of aristocracy and insolent nobility. It was amazing, in a
country where liberty gives choice, where trade and money confer
equality, and where facility of marriage had always been supposed
to produce populousness,--it was amazing to see a law promulged,
that cramped inclination, that discountenanced matrimony, and that
seemed to annex as sacred privileges to birth, as could be devised
in the proudest, poorest little Italian principality; and as if
the artificer had been a Teutonic Margrave, not a little lawyer,
who had raised himself by his industry from the very lees of the
people; and who had matched his own blood with the great house of
_Kent_!

The abuse of pre-contracts had occasioned the demand of a
remedy--the physician immediately prescribed medicines for every
ailment to which the ceremony of marriage was or could be supposed
liable! Publication of banns was already an established ordinance,
but totally in disuse except amongst the inferior people, who did
not blush to obey the law. Persons of Quality, who proclaimed every
other step of their conjugation by the most public parade, were
ashamed to have the intention of it notified, and were constantly
married by special licence. Unsuitable matches in a country where
the passions are not impetuous, and where it is neither easy
nor customary to tyrannize the inclinations of children, were
by no means frequent: the most disproportioned alliances, those
contracted by age, by dowagers, were without the scope of this
Bill. Yet the new Act set out with a falsehood, declaiming against
clandestine marriages, as if they had been a frequent evil.

The greatest abuse were the temporary weddings clapped up in the
Fleet, and by one Keith,[229] who had constructed a very Bishopric
for revenue in Mayfair, by performing that charitable function for
a trifling sum, which the _poor_ successors of the Apostles are
seldom humble enough to perform out of duty. The new Bill enjoined
indispensable publication of banns, yet took away their validity,
if parents, nay, if even guardians, signified their dissent,
where the parties should be under age--a very novel power!--but
guardians are a limb of Chancery! The Archbishop’s licence was
indeed reserved to him. A more arbitrary spirit was still behind:
persons solemnizing marriages, without these previous steps, were
sentenced to transportation, and the marriage was to be effectually
null--so close did congenial law clip the wings of the prostrate
priesthood! And as if such rigour did not sufficiently describe
its fountain and its destination, it was expressly specified,
that where a mother or a guardian should be _non compos_, resort
might be had to the Chancellor himself for licence. Contracts and
pre-contracts, other flowers of ecclesiastic prerogative, were
to be totally invalid, and their obligations abolished: and the
gentle institution was wound up with the penalty of death for all
forgeries in breach of this statute of modern Draco. Quakers,
Jews, and the Royal Family had the only toleration.

May 14th.--The Bill came down to the Commons. Nugent took it to
pieces severely and sensibly, pointed out the impropriety of it
in a commercial nation, and the ill-nature and partiality of
the restrictions. He showed himself a great master of political
disquisitions, and it seemed that a desire of displaying that
learning was the sole cause of any opposition to the Bill. This was
all that passed material the first day, and the Bill was read on a
majority of 116 to 55.

21st.--A second adversary appeared against the Bill. This was
Charles Townshend, second son of my Lord Townshend, a young man
of unbounded ambition, of exceeding application, and, as it now
appeared, of abilities capable of satisfying that ambition, and of
not wanting that application: yet to such parts and such industry
he was fond of associating all the little arts and falsehoods that
always depreciate, though so often thought necessary by, a genius.
He had been an early favourite of Lord Halifax, and had already
distinguished himself on affairs of trade, and in drawing plans
and papers for that province; but not rising in proportion to his
ambition, he comforted himself with employing as many stratagems as
had ever been imputed to the most successful statesmen.

His figure was tall and advantageous, his action vehement, his
voice loud, his laugh louder. He had art enough to disguise
anything but his vanity. He spoke long and with much wit, and
drew a picture, with much humour at least, if not with much
humility, of himself and of his own situation, as the younger
son of a capricious father, who had already debarred him from
an advantageous match: “were new shackles to be forged to keep
young men of abilities from mounting to a level with their elder
brothers?” Nugent had not shone with more parts the preceding day;
Nugent on no day discovered less modesty. What will be their fates
I know not; but this Mr. Townshend and Mr. Conway seemed marked by
nature for leaders, perhaps for rivals in the Government of their
country. The quickness of genius is eminently with the first, and
a superiority of application; the propriety and amiableness of
character with the latter. One grasps at fortune, the other only
seems pleased to accept fortune when it advances to him. The one
foresees himself equal to everything, the other finds himself so
whenever he essays. Charles Townshend seems to have no passion but
ambition; Harry Conway not even to have that. The one is impetuous
and unsteady; the other, cool and determined. Conway is indolent,
but can be assiduous; Charles Townshend can only be indefatigable.
The latter would govern mankind for his own sake; the former, for
theirs.

The speeches hitherto had only been flourishes in the air: at last
the real enemy came forth, Mr. Fox; who neither spared the Bill nor
the author of it, as wherever he laid his finger, it was not wont
to be light. He was supported by Fazakerley and Sir William Yonge.
Mr. Pelham, the Attorney and Solicitor, Lord Hilsborough, Hampden,
and Lord Egmont, supported the Bill, and it was carried that day by
165 to 84.

On the 23rd and 25th, the House sat late each day on the Bill, Mr.
Fox attacking and Mr. Pelham defending with eager peevishness. The
former repeated his censures on the Chancellor, which old Horace
Walpole reproved; Nugent was absurd; and the measure growing
ministerial, the numbers against the Bill diminished.

28th.--The Committee sat till half an hour past three in the
morning, on the clause for annulling marriages that should be
contracted contrary to the inhibitions in the Bill. The Churchmen
acquiesced in the Legislature’s assuming this power in spirituals,
as they had done in the single case of the young King’s marriage
in the Regency Bill: but however commendable the moderation of the
Clergy might be, the Pontific power arrogated by the head of the
Law, and his obstinate persisting to enforce a statute, by no means
calculated or called for by general utility, was most indecent. The
Speaker argued with great weight against the clause; Wilbraham,
well for it. Mr. Fox, at one in the morning, spoke against it
for above an hour, and laid open the chicanery and jargon of the
Lawyers, the pride of their Mufti, and the arbitrary manner of
enforcing the Bill. A motion for adjournment was moved, but was
rejected by above 80 to 40 odd.

30th.--The Committee went upon the clause that gave unheard-of
power, in the first resort to parents and guardians, and then to
the Chancery, on the marriages of minors. Fox spoke with increasing
spirit against this clause too; and on Wilbraham’s having said, if
you have a sore leg, will you not try gentle remedies first? he
drew a most severe picture of the Chancellor, under the application
of the story of a Gentlewoman at Salisbury, who, having a sore leg,
sent for a Country Surgeon, who pronounced it must be cut off.
The Gentlewoman, unwilling to submit to the operation, sent for
another, more merciful, who said he could save her leg, without the
least operation. The Surgeons conferred: the ignorant one said, “I
know it might be saved, but I have given my opinion; my character
depends upon it, and we must carry it through”--the leg was cut
off. Charles Yorke, the Chancellor’s son, took this up with great
anger, and yet with preciseness, beginning with these words, “It is
new in Parliament, it is new in politics, it is new in ambition;”
and drew a lofty character of his father, and of the height to
which he had raised himself by his merit; concluding with telling
Fox, how imprudent it was to attack such authority, and assuring
him that he would feel it. Mr. Fox replied with repeating the
sententious words: “Is it new in Parliament to be conscientious? I
hope not! Is it new in politics? I am afraid it is! Is it new in
ambition? It certainly is, to attack such authority!” Mr. Pelham
answered him well. Mr. Fox once more replied, urging how cruel and
absurd it was to force the Bill down: that he knew he should not
be heard by above one-third of the House, but would speak so loud
that he would be heard out of the House. That from the beginning
to the end of the Bill, one only view had predominated, that of
pride and aristocracy. There was much of truth in this. At the very
beginning, on the Duke of Newcastle’s declining to vote in the
Bill, the Chancellor told Mr. Pelham, “I will be supported in this,
or I never will speak for you again.” As the Opposition had at that
time been inconsiderable, this breathed a little more than a mere
spirit of obstinacy, and foretold a Bill to be framed not without
an interested meaning: at least a legislator is uncommonly zealous
for the public good, who forgets the philosophy of his character to
drive on his honest ordinances by political menaces!

The next day the Committee finished without a division. Sir
Richard Lloyd, a Lawyer, who had spoken against the Bill, voted
for it afterwards, without assigning any reason for his change
of opinion. Captain Saunders, who had said that he would go
and vote against the Bill, for the sake of the sailors, having
once given forty of his crew leave to go on shore for an hour,
and all returned married, was compelled by Lord Anson, the
Chancellor’s son-in-law and his patron, to vote for it. Henley
and the Solicitor-General declaring of the same words, the one,
that they could not be made clearer; the other, that they were as
clear as the sun at noonday, though each gave a totally different
interpretation of them, were well ridiculed by Fox; as a serious
speech of Lord Egmont was with much humour and not a little
indecency by Nugent.

June 1.--The report was made of the Bill, and the House sat till
ten. On one clause only there was a division of 102 to 20.

2d.--A new anti-ministerial Paper appeared, called the Protester,
supported at the expense of the Duke of Bedford and Beckford, and
written by Ralph, a dull author, originally a poet, and satirized
in the Dunciad: retained, after his pen had been rejected by Sir
Robert Walpole, by Doddington and Waller; but much fitter to range
the obscure ideas of the latter, than to dress up the wit of the
former: from them, he devolved to the Prince of Wales in his second
opposition, and laboured long in a paper called the Remembrancer,
which was more than once emboldened above the undertaker’s
pitch, by Lord Egmont and others. Ralph’s own turn seemed to be
endeavouring to raise mobs by speculative ideas of government; from
whence his judgment at least may be calculated. But he had the good
fortune to be bought off from his last Journal, the Protester, for
the only Paper that he did not write in it.

4th.--The Marriage Bill was read for the last time. Charles
Townshend again opposed it with as much argument as before with
wit. Mr. Fox, with still more wit, ridiculed it for an hour and a
half. Notwithstanding the Chancellor’s obstinacy in maintaining it,
and the care he had bestowed upon it, it was still so incorrect
and so rigorous, that its very body-guards had been forced to
make or to submit to many amendments: these were inserted in Mr.
Fox’s copy in red ink: the Solicitor-General, who sat near him
as he was speaking, said, “How bloody it looks!” Fox took this
up with spirit, and said, “Yes, _but you cannot say I did it;
look what a rent the learned Casca made_, (this alluded to the
Attorney,) _through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed_!” (Mr.
Pelham)--however, he finished with earnest declarations of not
having designed to abuse the Chancellor, and with affirming that it
was scandalous to pass the Bill--but it was passed by 125 votes to
56.

6th.--The Bill being returned to the Lords, the amendments were
read. The Duke of Bedford, who began to attack the whole Bill, was
obstructed by the Chancellor, who would have confined him to the
mere amendments; but the Duke, appealing to the House whether he
might not argue against the face of the whole Bill as it now stood,
the Chancellor seemed to acquiesce; but the Duke, not finding any
disposition to support him, soon dropped the cause; objecting
chiefly to the last clause on not extending the act to Foreign
Countries. The Chancellor replied, that he was sorry the clause was
there; but the Bill was too good to be lost, and might have much
good engrafted on it hereafter.[230] Lord Sandys declared that he
would agree to all the amendments made by the House of Commons,
against any that should be offered by any body else. An absurd
declaration, founded on the design of proroguing the Parliament on
the morrow, which would leave no time for returning the Bill to
the Commons; and a plain indication of the indigested manner in
which a law of such importance was hurried on. On its being urged
that several women could not write, the Bishop of Oxford, with
a sophistry that would have distinguished him in _any_ church,
replied that the Clergyman might write to himself, and give it to
the woman, and she to him again, for that the Bill did not say,
that when she gave her consent in writing, it must be of her own
writing! Lord Bath said, the opposition had proceeded from faction
and party. The Duke of Bedford replied, that his opposition had
arisen from conscience, that he had not troubled himself about what
the House of Commons did; yet he had perceived that the Bill had
been crammed down both Houses.

At last the Chancellor--not, as he has been represented,[231] in
the figure of _Public Wisdom speaking_, but with all the acrimony
of wounded pride, of detected ambition, and insolent authority.
He read his speech; not that he had written it to guard himself
from indecency; or that he had feared to forget his thread of
argument in the heat of personality: he did not deign an argument,
he did not attempt to defend a Bill so criticized. He seemed only
to have methodized his malice, and noted down the passages where
he was to resent, where to threaten. He introduced himself with
just allowing conscience and candour to the Duke of Bedford; but
what he had to complain of had passed without those walls, and in
another place. That, as to the young man, (Charles Townshend,)
youth and parts require beauty and riches, flesh and blood inspire
such thoughts, and therefore he excused him--but men of riper
years and graver had opposed; that the first, (the Speaker,) was
a good, well-meaning man, but had been abused by words--that
another, (Fox,) dark, gloomy, and insidious genius, who was an
engine of personality and faction, had been making connexions,
and trying to form a party, but his designs had been seen through
and defeated. That in this country you must govern by force or
by law; it was easy to know that person’s principles, which were
to govern by arbitrary force. That the King speaks through the
Seals, and is represented by the Chancellor and the Judges in the
Courts where the Majesty of the King resides; that such attacks
on the Chancellor and the Law was flying in the face of the King:
that this behaviour was not liked: that it had been taken up with
dignity,[232] and that the incendiary had been properly reproved;
that this was not the way to popularity or favour; and that he
could take upon him to say, that person knows so by this time;
a beam of light had broken in upon him; but, concluded he, I
despise his scurrility, as much as his adulation and retraction.
This _Philippic_ over, the Bill passed. Lord Granville, who had
threatened to oppose it, did not attend.

The prorogation of the Parliament prevented any farther open
war. Mr. Fox seemed wantonly and unnecessarily to have insulted
the Chancellor, and had even manifested some fear at having done
so. Indeed, he who had always been rash and resolute, now first
discovered some symptoms of irresolution; and the time advanced
but too fast, when the provocation offered to Yorke, and the
suspicion of his want of a determined spirit, were of essential
detriment to him. He could not but feel the Chancellor’s haughty
scorn of the atonement he had offered; yet, though he let slip both
sentences of resentment and indications of an ambition that began
to aspire higher, he soon yielded to a silent pacification. Mr.
Pelham affected to be rather ignorant of the heights to which the
rupture had openly been carried; and on the King’s being told, that
Mr. Fox’s behaviour had been concerted with the Duke of Bedford,
Mr. Pelham protested to Fox, that he had assured the King that
the latter, on some proposal of union about elections from that
Duke, had refused any such connexion while he should remain in the
King’s service. For the storm between Fox and the Chancellor, Mr.
Pelham said it would blow over, “Yet neither of you,” said he to
the former, “will forgive.” Mr. Fox, in return, who gave no credit
to this affected candour, reproached him in strong terms with
the Chancellor’s (and by necessary implication, with the Duke of
Newcastle’s) treachery to Sir Robert Walpole.

The Duke’s conversation on this occasion with Mr. Fox was
remarkable. “The Chancellor meaned me,” said he, “by arbitrary
force.” Mr. Fox thought not. “Why,” said the Duke, “do you think
that he imagines you would govern by an Army without me?” “Sir,”
said Fox, “how will the King act on what has happened?” “The King,”
replied the Duke, “would part with you, or even with me, to satisfy
them: but if you can maintain yourself for six months, he will
like you the better for what has passed, for he thinks you a man,
and he knows none of the rest have the spirit of a mouse.” Mr. Fox
said, “If they turn me out, I shall not acquit Mr. Pelham, nor
shall I spare him. Let him raise up Murray; Mr. Pelham knows he
has betrayed him, but is willing to forget it. I know he fears me
still more; he has often told me I was like Mr. Pulteney. It may be
vanity, but if I am stronger than Murray, I am ten times stronger
than Mr. Pelham.” “Mr. Pelham,” replied the Duke, “has neither
candour, honour, nor sincerity. Fox, how do you think I have been
entertaining myself this morning? It was poor pleasure, but I had
no better. The Duke of Newcastle asked me how I would have the
warrant for Cranborn[233] drawn. I thanked him, but heard Mr.
Pelham was uneasy that I had not thanked him; so to-day I met them
together, and thanked the Duke of Newcastle again, and only asked
t’other when he went to Esher.” The Duke concluded with advising
Fox to speak to the King, and not let him brood on it: “He will
talk on the Bill,” said the Duke: “let him; and you, who could not
be convinced in the House, be convinced by him.”

The King was civil to Fox at his next levee: afterwards in
his closet Mr. Fox beginning to say, “Sir, last Wednesday the
Chancellor”--the King interrupted, “Oh! sir, I believe you had
given him cause; it is now pretty even.” Mr. Fox said, “Sir,
I shall only beg to be heard as to there being any faction or
intrigue in my behaviour: I give you my honour it is not true.”
“The moment you give me your honour,” replied the King, “I believe
you; but I must tell you, as I am no liar, that you have been
much suspected.” He then repeated to him accusations of such low
caballing, of balls given at Holland House to the Duchess of
Bedford, to which Mr. Pelham’s daughters had not been invited, of
persons who were disagreeable to the Pelhams being invited; in
short, accusations of such feminine and peevish trifles, that if
Mr. Pelham was not the whisperer of them, and the Chancellor was,
the latter had certainly very tender sensations, when they could
extend themselves to the dancing disgusts of his friend’s wife
and daughters! Mr. Fox answered these cursorily, disclaimed any
political connexions with the Bedfords, and repeated with emphasis,
“Such intrigues, Sir, would be worse in me, while in your service,
than in any man living, as nobody blamed such intrigues in those
who undermined Sir Robert Walpole so much as I.” This dialogue
ended so well, that Mr. Fox asked for a little place for one of his
dependents, and obtained it.

7th.--Dr. Archibald Cameron suffered death at Tyburn. He had been
forced into the Rebellion by his brother Lochiel, whom he had tried
to confine, to prevent his engaging in it: not that Lochiel had
taken arms voluntarily: he was a man of great parts, but could
not resist the desperate honour which he thought the Pretender
did him, in throwing himself into his arms, and demanding his
sword and interest.[234] The Doctor, who was a man of learning
and very valuable humanity, which he had displayed in endeavours
to civilize that part of a barbarous country, and in offices of
benevolence to the soldiers employed on the Highland roads, and to
the mine-adventurers established at Strontean, was torn from these
sweet duties, from his profession, from a beloved and large family,
and attended his rash brother at Prestonpans and Falkirk, escaped
with him, and was appointed physician to Lochiel’s regiment in the
French service. He ventured back, was taken as mentioned above, and
underwent a forced death with as much composure as a philosopher
could affect at dying a natural one.

During the course of the summer the troubles in Ireland increased.
Lord Kildare returned thither towards the end of June, after having
presented a Memorial to the King against the administration of the
Duke of Dorset, and the ascendant of the Primate. Nothing could be
worse drawn: he was too weak to compose better, and too obstinate
to submit to any correction. No facts were alleged against the
Lord Lieutenant, nor any crime pretended in the Primate but that
he was a Churchman. Yet these no accusations, he told the King he
would return to prove whenever he should be required, and would
answer that the Irish House of Commons would stand by him. He had
no experience; nor knew that many men will say with party heat what
they will not support with party steadiness. Lord Holderness, by
the King’s command, wrote to the Chancellor of Ireland, telling
him, that the King had sent the Duke of Dorset to govern them,
because he had pleased them so much formerly, and because he had
the good of Ireland so much at heart: that his Majesty wondered at
any man taking upon himself to answer for a nation; and that he
expected that all who loved him would support the Lord Lieutenant:
that his Majesty permitted this letter to be communicated to
Lord Kildare, to anybody. Thus the absurdity of the Memorial was
balanced by the haughtiness of the mandate. Lord Kildare had
transfused into a State Manifesto the most licentious topics of
party libels: the English Ministers adopted, in the King’s answer,
the most exalted diction of French prerogative.

Whatever might be the temper in Ireland, the increasing servility
in England encouraged such a spirit in the Court. Mr. Pelham,
who went to Scarborough this summer for his health, received the
extravagant and unprecedented compliment of being desired to
recommend a member to that borough, which happened to be vacant.
The people of Bristol proceeded so far as to offer the same
nomination to the King himself on this occasion: riots had happened
there on the erection of new turnpikes; a citizen knocked down
one of the rioters, and another stabbed him. The jury brought
it in wilful murder in the first. The Attorney-General moved in
the King’s Bench to reverse the judgment. This so pleased both
parties in that city (the condemned person being a chief Tory),
that they acknowledged it by this offer, so repugnant to all ideas
of freedom of elections. What followed was only ridiculous. The
King recommended Nugent: the Bristol men begged to be excused,
as Nugent had been the principal promoter[235] of the Bill for a
General Naturalization.

Some little time before the Irish Parliament met, the Speaker’s
friends gave out, that the Primate had made acknowledgments to him
of his concern for the confusion that was likely to follow, that he
would meddle no more with the House of Commons, but would give all
his interest and influence there to the Speaker: that the latter
had replied, the Primate had such underhand ways, and had deceived
him so often, that he could not trust him; and for his influence he
despised it. All this passed by the intervention of Luke Gardiner,
who, on the Primate’s party denying it, being called on, avowed the
message. However, as it was decent for the Speaker to act candour
and contrition too, he went to the Duke of Dorset, and told him,
that he had got a majority in the House of Commons, and that they
were determined to omit in the Address to the King the usual thanks
for sending his Grace; and that if his Grace would acquiesce in
that omission, they would make the rest of the session easy to him.
The Duke, as hardhearted as the Speaker had been to the Primate,
would by no means give his own consent to being stigmatized. An
hour before he went to open the Parliament, the Speaker returned
and acquainted him that he had prevailed on his friends to suffer
the usual Address--and it was made.

The English Parliament, which opened on the 15th of November, was
employed till the end of the year in an affair which showed how
much the age, enlightened as it is called, was still enslaved to
the grossest and most vulgar prejudices. The year before an Act
had passed for naturalizing Jews. It had passed almost without
observation, Sir John Barnard and Lord Egmont having merely given
a languid opposition to it, in order to reingratiate themselves
with the mobs of London and Westminster. The Bishops had honestly
concurred in removing such absurd distinctions, as stigmatized
and shackled a body of the most loyal, commercial, and wealthy
subjects of the kingdom. A new general election was approaching;
some obscure men, who perhaps wanted the necessary sums for
purchasing seats, or the topics of party to raise clamour, had
fastened on this Jew Bill; and in a few months the whole nation
found itself inflamed with a Christian zeal, which was thought
happily extinguished with the ashes of Queen Anne and Sacheverel.
Indeed, this holy spirit seized none but the populace and the
very lowest of the Clergy: yet all these grew suddenly so zealous
for the honour of the prophecies that foretell calamity and
eternal dispersion to the Jews, that they seemed to fear lest the
completion of them should be defeated by Act of Parliament: and
there wanted nothing to their ardour but to petition both Houses
to enact the accomplishment. The little Curates preached against
the Bishops for deserting the interests of the Gospel; and Aldermen
grew drunk at county clubs in the cause of Jesus Christ, as they
had used to do for the sake of King James. Yet to this senseless
clamour did the Ministry give way; and to secure tranquillity to
their elections, submitted to repeal the Bill.

It is worth while to recapitulate some instances of the
capriciousness of the times. An inglorious peace had been made,
and the first hostages imposed that ever this country gave: not
a murmur followed. The Regency Bill, with the tremendous clause
of _præmunire_, had been passed without occasioning a pamphlet.
The Marriage Bill, that bane of society, that golden grate that
separates the nobility from the plebeians, had not excited a
complaint from the latter. A trifling Bill, that opened some
inconsiderable advantages to a corps of men, with whom we live,
traffic, converse, could alarm the whole nation--it did more: a
cabal of Ministers, who had insulted their master with impunity,
who had betrayed every ally and party with success, and who had
crammed down every Bill that was calculated for their own power,
yielded to transitory noise, and submitted to fight under the
banners of prophecy, in order to carry a few more members in
another Parliament.

I shall be very brief on the Debates that attended this repeal;
the topic was foolish, the chief speakers not considerable, the
events not memorable.

On the very day the Houses met, the Duke of Newcastle moved
to repeal the Bill, which, he said, had only been a point of
_political policy_. The Bishop of Oxford undertook the apology
of his Bench, and (though in a manner too ironic) defended them
well, for having given way to a Bill, which they had considered
only in a political light, had never much liked, and were glad
to have repealed, to quiet the minds of good people. Drummond
of St. Asaph, sensibly and in a more manly style, urged that
the Bishops could not have opposed the Bill without indulging a
spirit of persecution, abhorrent from the spirit of the Gospel.
Lord Temple, with his accustomed warmth, opposed the repeal, grew
zealous for the honour of a Ministry which he wanted to censure,
and protested against the Legislature listening to clamour, which
was less intended to serve the Protestant Religion, than to wound
the Protestant Succession. Loved he did the Liberty of the Press,
yet thought the abuse in the Daily Papers ought to be noticed. He
had never listened to popular clamour, nor always thought that the
voice of the people was the voice of God. That the approaching
general election had given foundation to this uproar, and therefore
should not have wondered at a repeal being consented to by the
other House, but for the Lords to consent, would be subscribing
to the accusation. Lord Temple was still more violent on the
second reading; pronounced the clamour disaffection clothed in
superstition, and a detestable high-church spirit: trembled lest
the Plantation Act should be repealed; trembled lest fires should
be rekindled in Smithfield to burn Jews; shuddered at our exceeding
the heinous days of Charles the Second, who, though he oppressed
Presbyterians, encouraged Jews. That to give way to this spirit,
would invite persecution against the Presbyterians. For him, he
acted on the principles on which he had been bred, had lived, and
would die. The Chancellor replied to him with temper, and defended
the measure of a free government giving way. That the longer
Bills of Naturalization existed, the more difficult they grow to
repeal, as they have been hanging out invitation to Foreigners to
accept the advantages of them: was earnest against any thought of
repealing the Plantation Act, which had subsisted thirteen years,
and allows seven years for settling: that as Jews are chiefly
concerned in remittances, it would undo our colonies to repeal
Bills made in favour of that people.

On the 21st, the Duke of Bedford said he had been against the
Bill, and was now against the repeal, which was an effect of the
imbecility of the Administration. Lord Temple again spoke against
it, and well. Lord Granville with humour turned the whole into
ridicule; said he remembered many religious Bills in which religion
had nothing to do; they were made or repealed from clamour. When
the Schism Bill passed, Lord Harcourt, then _not_ Chancellor was
for it; afterwards against it, and then pleaded, that it was only
a Bill to make school-mistresses take the Sacrament three times
a year, and what was that to Government? The Uniformity Bill was
rejected after being carried so high by party, that it was not
regarded whether a man was for peace or for war, but whether he was
for or against that Bill. That it had been afterwards brought in
by the Whigs to gain a single Lord, Lord Nottingham; that when it
was objected that a persecuting Bill was surely paying dear for one
man, a grave Whig Lord replied, “It is true; but let our friends
be persecuted sometimes, or they will not think they want us.”
That undictated by religion as those Bills were, or the clamour
against them, they breathed the very essence of it, compared to
this Jew Bill, which, with its clamour, was the nothingness of a
nothing. Lord Temple commended the Bench, but feared there might
be Toryism lurking in some corner of it; and then painted the
Bishop of London, who, he said, he had heard, was disposed to a
repeal even of the Plantation Act. He would not suffer Jews even
in that diocese[236] of his--he did not know whether he ought
strictly to call it his diocese: the Plantations were subjected to
his Lordship’s pastoral jurisdiction; but perhaps he had not taken
out his patent; it might cost fourscore or an hundred pounds! He
talked again of disaffection, and said he had been raking into the
London Evening Post, that Augæan stable of filth and calumny--thus
was Lord Temple at once a zealous Whig, and scandalized at
libels! Whigs have not generally disliked libels, nor had he,
but it was when he was less Whig. The Bishop of Oxford answered
for his brother of London, and denied that he was averse to the
Plantation Act. The Chancellor said, that the only imbecility of
the Administration was in tolerating such libels; that the liberty
of the Press could not give liberty to print what a man may not
write; that what a man could not justify to do, he could not
justify to print; that he thought the libels on this Bill ought to
be prosecuted; that the Lords and Commons might trust themselves
with looking into the licence of the Press.

22d.--On the third reading of the Bill, Lord Temple made a very bad
obscure speech; tried to answer Lord Granville; tried to encourage
the Tories to continue the clamour; tried to excuse his invective
on the Bishop of London; but succeeded in none of those points, and
the repeal passed.

In Ireland, the new parties from personalities turned to matters
of government. A Bill had been prepared to enable them to dispose
of an overplus of the Revenue for the benefit of the kingdom;
and it was specified in the preamble that it was with the King’s
consent. The Opposition refused to admit this preamble: the Castle
were afraid to proceed to a division, and suppressed the preamble,
but sent over the Bill, depending on the English Ministry not
suffering such a diminution of the prerogative. The next day, on a
trifling question about some words relating to Neville Jones, the
Castle stood a division, and had a majority, though but of three
votes. As the parties were so equally balanced, the animosities did
not flag, but proceeded to great extremities, both in the English
manner of abuse, and in the Irish of duels.

27th.--Lord Temple, after having mysteriously summoned the Lords
to an affair, as he told them, of great importance, moved to
have the Judges asked, if Jews could purchase land, and whether
it would legally descend to their children. The Chancellor, Lord
Cholmondeley, Lord Granville, and the Duke of Argyle opposing the
Motion, and nobody supporting it, Lord Temple gave it up.

The same day the repeal was agitated in the other House; Northey
proposed to have the words in the preamble, _have taken occasion to
raise clamour_, altered to _have raised clamour_. He was seconded
by Prowse, Lord Egmont, and Admiral Vernon. On the other side
Nugent, Sir W. Yonge, Sir Richard Lloyd, Mr. Pelham, old Horace
Walpole, and Mr. Pitt, who was just come abroad again after a year
of sullen illness, defended the words and the repeal, and it passed
by a majority of 150 to 60.

28th.--Letters came from Ireland with an account of the first
Parliamentary victory obtained there by the Opposition over
the Court. Neville Jones had been voted guilty of abuse in his
office[237] by 124 to 116. The strangers in the gallery of the
House huzzaed; the city was crowded by the triumphant mob. Lord
Kildare, the popular hero, was an hour passing to his own house at
eleven at night.

Dec. 4th.--A call of the House being appointed, Lord Harley and Sir
James Dashwood moved for a repeal of the Plantation Act. Martin,
the West Indian, opposed the Motion in a speech of wit. He said,
this Act had been made thirteen years ago; had occasioned no
clamour then, nor since. Foreigners would begin to think that there
was no combustible matter left in England but these poor miserable
Jews. One hundred and eighty-five have taken the benefit of the
Act. He had been so idle, he said, as to read all the pamphlets
and papers on the late Act, and must pronounce that no subject ever
occasioned the spilling so much nonsense. That America can only be
peopled by Foreigners, unless you would drain your own country,
over and above those valuable colonists, the transported.

Sir Roger Newdigate spoke for the last moved repeal. Nugent
ridiculed it, and said, that if once the principle was admitted,
there would be no stopping. Why have 130 Jews been naturalized
in Jamaica, and none in Barbadoes? because three parts of the
former are desert, and no part of the latter. Would you drive
them out of the desert? Spanish Jews are the most proper, because
they can best support the climate. That noble pirate, the Knight
of Malta, says, Make perpetual war with perpetual enemies: so
says the Inquisition--imitate them--and you will only lose your
Mediterranean trade. Then break with those who league with the
enemies of your religion, as Spain does with Denmark[238]--but no;
you have done what you meaned to do; stop here: a Christian knows
no perpetual enmity. The most prosperous, happy man here has the
best chance for the next world. They who made this clamour, now
smile with us; if we gave way, would laugh at us.

Sir John Barnard made a short, bad speech, and went away. Mr.
Pelham said, to repeal the Plantation Act would be to tell the
people, We will repeal this law, not because it has, but because
it ought to have made you uneasy. But it would be too serious to
pay such attention even to clamour: who part with their wealth,
part with their strength. Such a repeal would revive the principle
of the Church, which has had such pernicious effects--but no
encouragement must be given to that spirit, though it has been
laboured by some who can only figure in a hot contest, and who
can thunder out their ecclesiastic anathemas, but have nothing to
say when they come to preach on morality. Pitt carried this still
further; and though he did not act like, yet he affected to speak
with the same spirit of Whiggism as his friend, Lord Temple. He
had not expected, he said, that this would be the first return
to Parliament for their condescension in repealing the late act.
Here the stand must be made, or _venit summa dies_! we should have
a Church spirit revived. He believed the late clamour was only a
little election art, which was given way to genteelly; that the
other Bill was not a toleration of, but a preference given to,
Jews over other sects. That his maxim was, never to do more for
the Church than it now enjoys: that now you would except the Jews
in the opposite extreme. It is the Jew to-day, it would be the
Presbyterian to-morrow: we should be sure to have a septennial
Church clamour. That we are not now to be influenced by old laws
enacted before the Reformation: our ancestors would have said,
“A Lollard has no right to inherit lands.” But we do not fear
indulging Jews; they will never be great purchasers of land; they
love money, and trade with it to better advantage. This silly
effort of old prejudices was baffled by 208 to 88. Not that even
eighty-eight men were actuated by such monkish principles; some
were obliged to espouse them to secure their approaching elections.

The heats in Ireland increased with the success of the Opposition.
The Speaker was adored by the mob; they worshipped him under the
name of _Roger_. They made bonfires of reproach before the door
of the Primate: they stopped coaches, and made them declare for
England or Ireland. The Hackney Chairmen distinguished their
patriotism by refusing to carry any fare to the Castle. A Dr.
Andrews of the Castle-faction, reproaching a Mr. Lambert at the
door of the House of Commons, with forfeiting a promise of bringing
him into Parliament, and proceeding to a challenge, Lambert said,
“I will first go into the House, and vote against that rascal
Neville Jones.” Dr. Andrews repeating the insult, Lambert went
in and complained, and Andrews was ordered into custody; Carter,
Master of the Rolls, saying, “What, would that man force himself
into a seat here! and for what? only to prostitute his vote to a
man,[239] the known enemy of this country! I need not name him, you
all know whom I mean.” Malone’s brother, a rising young man, on
Lord George’s imputing the prosecution of Neville Jones to the rage
of party, said, “He did not believe there subsisted any such thing;
but if there did, it was more laudable than threats, bribes, and
promises, which that Noble Lord had used to procure a majority.”
The accusation was not groundless; Sir James Hamilton, a very
indigent member, refused an offer from the Castle of 2000_l._ and
200_l._ per annum for life. Satires and claret were successful arms
even against corruption! The Money Bill was sent back from England,
with the preamble re-instated, but was rejected in Ireland by a
majority of five.


1754.

The new year began with orders sent to Ireland to prorogue the
Parliament, and to disgrace the most obnoxious, at the discretion
of the Lord-Lieutenant; but the Duke was moderate. He contented
himself with obtaining an adjournment for three weeks, and with
displacing Carter, the Master of the Rolls; Malone, Prime Serjeant,
(a convert from Popery), Dilks, Quarter-Master and Barrack-Master
General; and with stopping the pension of Bellingham Boyle,
Register of the Prerogative Court, and a near relation of the
Speaker. Andrew Stone was inclined to temporize, but Murray
counselled, and drove on measures of authority.

February 7th.--Sir John Barnard, on the view of the approaching
elections, and their concomitant perjury, moved to repeal the
Bribery Oath; and was seconded by Sir William Yonge. But the
consideration that the repeal would avow permission of bribery
prevailed over the certainty of bribery heightened by perjury, and
the Motion was rejected without a division. In the other House, the
next day, the Bishop of Worcester had as little success in another
moral attempt: he moved for reformation and a fast--in vain.

19th.--There was a Debate on the Bill for subjecting to military
law the troops going to the East Indies; but it passed on a
division of 245 to 50.

March 4th.--The Duke of Bedford offered a Bill to postpone
the activity of the Marriage Bill, till it should be maturely
considered and amended. The Chancellor opposed it dictatorially;
and it was rejected by 56 Lords to 10.

       *       *       *       *       *

These were the last occurrences in the life of that fortunate
Minister, Henry Pelham, who had surmounted every difficulty, but
the unhappiness of his own temper. The fullness of his power had
only contributed to heighten his peevishness. He supplied the
deficiencies of genius by affected virtue; he had removed superiors
by treachery, and those of whom he was jealous, by pretexting, or
administering to the jealousies of his brother: but the little arts
by which he had circumvented greater objects, were not applicable
even to his own little passions. He enjoyed the plenitude of his
Ministry but a short time, and that short period was a scene of
fretfulness. He had made a journey to Scarborough in the summer for
scorbutic complaints, but receiving little benefit from a short
stay, and being banqueted much on the road, he returned with his
blood more disordered. It produced a dangerous boil, which was once
thought cured; but he relapsed on the third of March, and died on
the sixth, aged near sixty-one.

It would be superfluous to add much to the character already given
of him in the former part of these memoirs. Thus much may be said
with propriety: his abilities, I mean, parliamentary, and his
eloquence cleared up, and shone with much greater force, after his
power was established. He laid aside his doubling plausibility,
which had at once raised and depreciated him, and assumed a spirit
and authority that became him well. Considering how much he had
made it a point to be Minister, and how much his partizans had
proclaimed him the only man worthy of being Minister, he ought to
have conferred greater benefits on his country. He had reduced
interest, and a part of the National Debt; these were his services.
He had raised the name of the King, but he had wounded his
authority. He concluded an ignominious peace; but the circumstances
of the times made it be thought, and perhaps it was, desirable. The
desertion of the King in the height of a Rebellion, from jealousy
of a man with whom he soon after associated against some of the
very men who had deserted with him, will be a lasting blot on his
name--let it be remembered as long, that, though he first taught or
experienced universal servility in Englishmen, yet he lived without
abusing his power, and died poor.


FOOTNOTES:

[229] Being deprived of this income, Keith swore he would be
revenged of the Bishops--that he would buy a piece of ground and
outbury them.

[230] Yet no amendment was ever made in it, and all its clauses and
faults supported by the utmost rigour of the power of Chancery.

[231] An expression of Lord Lyttleton on Lord Hardwicke.

[232] Meaning by his son, Charles Yorke.

[233] The King had just given Cranborn Lodge in Windsor Forest to
the Duke.

[234]

      “Il marche en philosophe, où l’honneur le conduit,
      Condamne les combats, plaint son maître, et le suit.”

          _Henriade._


[235] Vide Appendix.

[236] The plantations are reckoned in the diocese of London.

[237] [He was consequently dismissed, and, with an allusion to
his profession of architect, said, with much good humour and
pleasantry, “So, after all, I shall not be Inigo, but _Out I go_,
Jones.”]--E.

[238] For making a league with the Algerines.

[239] Lord George Sackville.




1754.

  Plus on étudie le monde, plus on y découvre le ridicule.

      _La Bruyere._

  Les exemples du passé touchent sans comparaison plus les hommes
  que ceux de leur siècle. Nous nous accoutumons à ce que nous
  voyons; et je ne sçai si le consulat du Cheval de Caligula nous
  auroit autant surpris que nous nous l’imaginons.--_Card. de Retz._




CHAPTER XII.

  The Author’s motives for continuing his Work in the year
  1754--Flattery the vice of Historians--The Author’s apprehensions
  for the Constitution--His political principles--Embarrassments
  caused by the death of Mr. Pelham--Difficulties in the way
  of choosing his successor--Appointment and disappointment
  of Mr. Fox--His audience with the King--Duke of Newcastle
  sole Minister--New appointments--Character of Sir Thomas
  Robinson--Affairs in Ireland--New Parliament--Origin of the
  War in America--Defeat of Major Washington--Law-suit about
  Richmond New Park--Debates on the Address--Prince of Hesse
  turns <DW7>--Disturbances in the New Parliament--Debates on
  the Army Estimates--Breach between Sir George Lyttelton and Mr.
  Pitt--State of parties--Projected changes--Deaths of Lords Gower
  and Albemarle.


Having never proposed to write a regular history, but to throw
together some anecdotes and characters which might cast a light on
the times in which I have lived, and might lead some future and
more assiduous historian to an intimate knowledge of the men whose
counsels or actions he shall record, I had determined to lay down
my pen at the death of that Minister, whose fortune, situation, and
genius had superinduced a very new complexion over his country,
and who had composed a system of lethargic acquiescence, in which
the spirit of Britain, agitated for so many centuries, seemed
willingly to repose. But as the numbness of that enchantment has
been dispelled by the evanition of the talisman, though so many of
its mischievous principles survive, I shall once again endeavour
to trace the stream of events to their secret source, though
with a pen more unequal than ever to the task. A Monkish writer
may be qualified to record an age of barbarity and ignorance;
Sallust alone was worthy to snatch the rapid episode of Catiline
from oblivion; Tacitus, to paint monsters whose lives surpassed
caricatura; Livy, to embrace whole ages of patriots and heroes.
Though no Catiline, I trust, will rise in my pages, to deform his
country by his horrid glory; though our present minister,[240]
notwithstanding he has the monkey disposition of Heliogabalus, is
happily without his youth or lusts, and by the character of the
age that disposition is systematized into little mischiefs and
unbloody treacheries; though we have no succession of incorrupt
senators; yet the times beginning to wear in some lights a more
respectable face, it will require a steadier hand, and more
dignified conceptions, than served to seize and to sketch out the
littlenesses and trifles that had characterized the foregoing
period.

The style, therefore, of the following sheets will perhaps wear
a more serious aspect than I have used before: yet shall I not
check a smile now and then at transient follies; nor, as much
appropriated as gravity is to an historian, can I conceive how
history can always be faithful, if always solemn. Is a palace a
perpetual shrine of virtue, or incessantly a tribunal of severity?
do not follies predominate in mankind over either virtues or vices?
and whoever has been conversant in a Court, does he not know how
strongly the cast of it verges towards ridiculous? Besides, I am no
historian: I write casual Memoirs; I draw characters; I preserve
anecdotes, which my superiors, the historians of Britain, may
enchase into their weighty annals, or pass over at their pleasure.
In one point I shall not vary from the style I have assumed,
but shall honestly continue to relate the blemishes of material
personages as they enter upon the scene: and whoever knows the
interior of affairs, must be sensible to how many more events the
faults of statesmen give birth, than are produced by their good
intentions.

If I do not forbid myself censure, at least I shall shun that
frequent poison of histories, flattery. How has it preponderated in
most writers! My Lord Bacon was almost as profuse of his incense
on the memory of dead Kings, as he was infamous for clouding the
living with it. In the reign of Henry the Seventh, the whole
strain of his panegyric (and it is more justly to be called so than
Pliny’s, whose patron was really a good Prince), is to erect that
sordid Monarch’s tyranny into prudence, nay, his very knavery into
policy! Comines, a honester writer, though I fear by the masters
whom he pleased, not a much less servile Courtier, says, that
the virtues of Louis the Eleventh preponderated over his vices!
Even Voltaire, who feels for Liberty more than almost ever any
Frenchman did, has in a manner purified the dross of adulation,
which cotemporary authors had squandered on Louis the Fourteenth,
by adopting and refining it after the tyrant was dead. In his war
of 1741, he paints that phantom of Royalty, the present King,
extinguishing at Metz, with as much energy of concern, as if he was
describing the death-bed of a Titus or an Antonine.

But how unpardonable is a flattering history!--if anything can
shock one of those mortal divinities (and they must be shocked
before they will be corrected), it would be to find that the truth
will be related of them at last. Nay, is it not cruel to them to
hallow their bad memories? one is sure they will never _hear_
truth; shall they not even have a chance of _reading_ it?

It may be wondered that I, who know and have drawn the emptiness
of present Royalty, should, in the exordium to a new period, in
which surely the effulgence of Majesty has not been displayed with
any new lustre, detain the reader with reflections on a pageant
which has so little operation on the reality of the drama. But I
must be pardoned: though I now behold only a withering King, good,
as far as acquiescing to whatever is the emergent humour of his
people, and by no means the object of jealousy to his subjects, yet
I am sensible that, from the prostitution of patriotism, from the
art of Ministers who have had the address to exalt the semblance
while they depressed the reality of Royalty, and from the bent
of the education of the young Nobility, which verges to French
maxims and to a military spirit, nay, from the ascendant which the
Nobility itself acquires each day in this country, from all these
reflections, I am sensible, that prerogative and power have been
exceedingly fortified of late within the circle of the Palace; and
though fluctuating Ministries by turns exercise the deposit, yet
there it is; and whenever a Prince of design and spirit shall sit
in the Regal Chair, he will find a bank, a hoard of power, which he
may play off most fatally against this constitution. That evil I
dread--the steps to that authority, that torrent which I should in
vain extend a feeble arm to stem, those steps I mean to follow and
record.

My reflections led me early towards, I cannot quite say
Republicanism, but to most limited Monarchy; a principle as much
ridiculed ever since I came into the world, as the profligacy of
false patriots has made patriotism--and from much the same cause.
Republicans professed to be saints, and from successful sainthood
became usurpers: yet Republicanism, as it tends to promote Liberty,
and Patriotism as far as it tends to preserve or restore it, are
still godlike principles. A Republican who should be mad, should
be execrable enough to endeavour to imbrue his country in blood
merely to remove the name of a Monarch, deserves to excite horror;
a quiet Republican, who does not dislike to see the shadow of
Monarchy, like Banquo’s ghost, fill the empty chair of state, that
the ambitious, the murderer, the tyrant, may not aspire to it;
in short, who approves the name of a King, when it excludes the
essence; a man of such principles, I hope, may be a good man and
an honest; and if he is that, what matters if he is ridiculous? A
Republican, who sees monarchy realizing, who observes all orders
of men tending to exalt higher, what all orders had concurred to
depress; who has found that the attempts of the greatest men to
divert the torrent, have been turned afterwards to swell it; who
knows the inefficacy of all endeavours to thwart the bent of a
nation, and who is but too sensible how unequal his own capacity
and virtue would be to so heroic a character; such a man may be
pardoned, I hope, if he contents himself with the silent suffrage
and wishes of his heart, though he has not the parade of martyrs,
nor the courage of a Roman, in as _un-Roman_--(why should it be
beneath the dignity of history to say?) in as _un-British_ an age
as ever was.

       *       *       *       *       *

Mr. Pelham’s death was unexpected; he was healthy, and not old:
all men had concurred to serve under him; none had prepared any
intrigues to succeed him. The King had found it comfortable to be
governed absolutely, as long as the _viceroy[241] over him_ could
govern the kingdom as absolutely: being told of his Minister’s
death, he said with a sigh, that could not excite much compassion,
“I shall now have no more peace!”

[Illustration: M^R. PELHAM.

London. Henry Colburn, 1846.]

The Houses, who certainly were not to be consulted on the
successor, adjourned themselves for a week--who _should_ be
consulted, was the question--for nobody pretended to suppose
that the Sovereign was to choose his delegate himself. What was
as ridiculous as this state of doubt, was the measure taken for
solving it--the Duke of Devonshire was sent for--a proper dictator,
had the only business of the State been to drive a nail into a
wall! The event put the finishing stroke to the ridicule. In the
meantime, the Lord Chief Justice Lee was appointed Chancellor of
the Exchequer, the forms depending on that office not admitting an
interregnum. Lord Chief Justice Pratt had been supplied in like
manner on the demission of Aislabie.[242]

As the temper of the age did not admit the ancient folly of that
presumptuous officer called a King’s favourite; and as Ministers in
late times had towered to power from ascendants gained by abilities
or address in the House of Commons, it was natural for the nation
to turn its eyes thither: three subjects there presented themselves
before the rest, as candidates for the first Ministership; but
each attended with almost insuperable difficulties: these were
Fox, Pitt, and Murray. The Chancellor hated the first: the Scotch
and the Law, two formidable bodies, whom Fox had wantonly and
repeatedly provoked, readily listed under that banner: the Princess
could not love him from his connexion with the Duke; and though he
had been the ostensible second to Mr. Pelham, he had never lived
upon any terms with the Duke of Newcastle: but he was the ablest
man in Parliament, at least the craftiest Parliament-man, had acted
steadily with the Whigs, and had in their eyes the seeming right
of succession. Pitt had, or had unluckily acted, very ill health;
and was now at Bath. Mr. Pelham, who had adopted him, had, however,
died without removing, probably without trying to remove, his
Majesty’s excommunication; and that was now allowed all its force,
as Pitt had no party that wished his elevation. Murray was a Scot,
and too lately been the object of clamour on the worst species of
Scotch principles. The Chancellor was already jealous of him; and
both Fox and Pitt would have concurred for his exclusion. He was
timid himself, and always waving what he was always courting. This
Gordian Knot was soon cut; and the world that had pretended to look
out for a genius worthy to govern them, in six days descended from
their ambition, and submitted to be ruled by no abilities at all.

Fox acted reserve and retirement, and expected to be wooed. His
enemies indulged this humour, and deceived him. Stone went to him,
and in Murray’s name disclaimed all emulation of that kind, that he
never meant to quit his profession, that he aspired _only_ to be
Chancellor. The Chancellor on his part contributed: he sent Lord
Anson to Fox, to offer reconciliation, though justifying himself
on the former quarrel. Between the King and Fox several messages
passed by the intervention of Lady Yarmouth. The Princess, however,
expressed her dislike; and the Duke of Argyle was warm against his
promotion. The late beloved Minister was in the meantime totally
forgot, or only remembered by daily discoveries of the duplicity of
his conduct. Even his brother, who whimpered for him like a child
during the first hours, like a child forgot him, as soon as he had
formed the plan of inheriting his power: and nothing tended so much
to unravel the mystery of devotion which the nation had conceived
for Mr. Pelham, as its appearing, that it had not been the genius
of the man, but the servility of the times, which had established
his authority--in a fortnight the whole country was prostrate
before his brother.

The Duke of Newcastle, who for thirty years together had sapped
every Administration, could not resist having courage enough to
seize it for himself now it lay so exposed. A faint offer was made
to the Duke of Devonshire to sit at the head of the Treasury, which
he declining, on the 12th of March at night, only six days after
the death of Mr. Pelham, to the astonishment of all men, yet only
to their astonishment, it was settled that the Duke of Newcastle
should take the Treasury, with Legge for Chancellor of Exchequer,
and that Mr. Fox should be Secretary of State, with the management
of the House of Commons. Those solemn personages, the Cabinet
Council, were directed to offer this disposition to his Majesty,
as the result of their wisdoms and opinion--an opinion, that in
two days more they were reduced to disavow. The King confirmed
this establishment, with this salvo to his Royalty, that Legge
should never enter his closet; to so scanty a space was his kingdom
shrunk! That very night Lord Hartington was sent to notify the
new regulation to Mr. Fox, with this supplement, not imparted to
the Council, that his Grace would reserve to himself the disposal
of the Secret-Service Money, though he would always exactly
communicate to Mr. Fox how it had been employed.

The next morning, the Marquis carried Mr. Fox to the Chancellor,
where a reconciliation was completed; though, as this sincere man
told Lyttelton and Granville, he had made peace with Fox, yet would
never act in concert with him. From thence they went to the new
Vizier. On opening upon terms and measures, Mr. Fox mentioned the
Secret-Service Money--the Duke cut him short with saying, that
his brother had never disclosed the disposal of that money, nor
would he. Mr. Fox represented, that if he was kept in ignorance
of that, he should not know how to talk to members of Parliament,
when some might have received _gratifications_, others not. The
Duke answered ministerially, that though he would not inform Mr.
Fox, he would inform no one else. Lord Hartington ventured to urge
that this was not the message on which he had been sent; and Mr.
Fox pushing for further explanation, asked who was to have the
nomination to places? Newcastle replied, “I myself.” Fox, “Who the
recommendation?” N. “Any member of the House of Commons.” Fox then
inquired into the projected measures for securing the approaching
Parliament, and what list Mr. Pelham had left for composing it. The
Duke said, “My brother had settled it all with Lord Duplin.” Fox
replied, “Not all;” and named some unsettled boroughs. The Duke
said hastily, “No, no, all was settled.” Fox said, “I will come and
look over the list with your Grace.” He answered, “No, I will look
it over with Duplin, and then show it to you.” They came away.

Before I prosecute this barter for power, let me make one
reflection. How avowed was become the traffic for Parliaments!
how extensive the breach of the constitution, since Pym and
Hampden presented their bosoms to cover and close the gap! Yet
what has befallen this country, but what is common to sublunary
establishments? How few years had rolled away between the age of
Cato’s Brutus’s, Cicero’s, and the domination of that Imperial
fiddler, Nero? Within how small a period did the stock-jobber,
Julianus, purchase the very Empire which Trajan had extended to
its utmost limits? The auction of votes is become an established
commerce, and his Grace did nothing but squabble for the
prerogative of being sole appraiser.

Fox felt he was bubbled--yet was irresolute. He seemed
unaccountably to have lost the spirit which the Duke seemed as
unaccountably to have acquired. But in this transaction, and in
many subsequent instances, it appeared, that his timidity was
consistent with extreme rashness: his brother’s timorousness more
unallayed, had predominated, and given the colour of fear to their
joint Administration. The Duke left to himself, always plunged into
difficulties, before he shuddered for the consequences: the other
had possessed more foresight.

Lord Hartington acquainted the Chancellor with what had passed. He
seemed struck; but, as if conscious to the violation of the terms,
or determined at once to profit of it, said, he could not see the
Duke that evening, but would next morning. At night, the Duke
sent for Lord Hartington; not repentant; he was not apt to repent
of advantageous treachery. He would not deny the breach of his
engagements, but honestly declared he would not stand to them. Lord
Hartington, as if avowal of treachery repaired it, expressed no
resentment. His impartiality was ludicrous; he thought he displayed
sufficient friendship to Fox, by publishing the Duke of Newcastle’s
breach of faith; and he knew he should not offend the latter, by
adhering to a simple relation of his perfidy.

Fox in the meantime consulted his friends. The Duke of Cumberland
dissuaded his complying with terms infringed ere ratified. Horace
Walpole, the younger, laid before him the succession of the Duke
of Newcastle’s wiles and falsehoods; and being persuaded that this
coalition was intended only to prejudice Mr. Fox, and that he would
be betrayed, mortified, disgraced, as soon as the new Minister
should have detached him from his connexions, and prevented his
strengthening them, urged him to refuse the Seals. Sir Charles
Williams, who happened to be in England, and whose interest as a
Minister in Foreign Courts, indubitably pointed to make him wish
Mr. Fox Secretary of State, yet with great honesty laboured in
the most earnest manner to tear him back from the precipice on
which he stood. He yielded, yet never[243] forgave Sir Charles
Williams, whose dissuasion having been most vehement, had made most
impression on him. He sent the following letter by Lord Hartington
to the Duke of Newcastle:

      March 14th, 1754.

  My Lord Duke,

  As your Grace intends to wait upon his Majesty to-day, I must
  lose no time to desire your Grace would not acquaint his Majesty
  that I have accepted the office of Secretary of State. But, if
  his Majesty has already been acquainted with my acceptance of
  it, your Grace will, I hope, tell his Majesty that I purpose,
  with the utmost submission, to beg his Majesty’s leave to decline
  it. It is impossible his Majesty could think of raising me to
  so exalted a station, but with a design that I should, with and
  under your Grace, have the management of his affairs in the House
  of Commons. This was the whole tenour of your Grace’s messages
  by Lord Hartington, which, in your Grace’s conference with Lord
  Hartington and me yesterday morning, and with Lord Hartington
  last night, have been totally contradicted. Unable, therefore,
  to answer what, I dare say, is his Majesty’s expectation (though
  your Grace has frankly declared it not to be yours), that I
  should be answerable for his Majesty’s affairs in the House of
  Commons, I beg leave to remain where I am, heartily wishing
  success to his Majesty’s affairs, and contributing all that shall
  be in the power of a single man towards it. I am, &c.

On 16th, Fox saw the King. The former said, with humility, that in
seven years he had never presumed to enter first on other affairs
than of his province. The King interrupted him, “It was a great
place I designed for you; I thought I did much for you; many Dukes
have had it.” Fox answered, “Sir, your Majesty has been told that
I asked for too much.” The King said, “You did; the Secret Service
money has never been in other hands than the person’s at the head
of the Treasury.” “Perhaps, Sir,” replied Fox, “I did ask too
much; but they were more in fault who promised and broke their
word: Lord Hartington is witness. I shall speak with truth, not
with modesty. I might be a great man in the House of Commons, if
I would be Secretary of State at the head of an Opposition--but
I prefer serving your Majesty as a private man, without seeing
the Duke of Newcastle. He promised me his confidence: I never can
believe him more. I am honest, he is not.” The King concluded, “I
know it cannot be made up; you are not apt to depart from your
resolution--it is a great office! but I have learned _nemini
obtrudere beneficium_.”

The triumphant Duke having disabled Fox, and being possessed of
Murray, or rather the agent of power for him, had little trouble
with the remaining competitor. Sir George Lyttelton, whose warmest
prayer was to go to heaven in a Coronet, undertook to be factor
for his friends. Unauthorized, he answered for Pitt’s acquiescence
under the new plan. He obtained a great employment for himself,
overlooked Lord Temple, and if he stipulated without commission for
George Grenville, at least it was for a preferment, large beyond
the latter’s most possible presumption.

All impediments thus removed, Newcastle obtained his full list of
preferments; and the rest of the month was employed in forming
and establishing his new court. Legge, as has been said, was made
Chancellor of the Exchequer--unwillingly: he preferred his own more
profitable place, less obnoxious to danger and envy. The meanness
of his appearance, and the quaintness of his dialect, made him as
improper for it as unwilling. Sandys’s solemn dulness had made men
regret Sir Robert Walpole’s cheerful dignity: Legge’s arch gravity
struck no impression after Mr. Pelham’s peevish authority: men had
no notion of an epigrammatic Chancellor of the Exchequer. Lord
Barnard, Lord Duplin, and Nugent composed the rest of the Treasury.
George Grenville succeeded Legge as Treasurer of the Navy. Sir
George Lyttelton was made Cofferer; Lord Hilsborough Comptroller of
the Household, and Lord Barrington Master of the Great Wardrobe, in
the room of Sir Thomas Robinson, who, to give some relief to Lord
Holderness, and no possibility of umbrage to the fretful Duke, was
nominated to the Seals, which Mr. Fox had declined.

Sir Thomas had been bred in German Courts, and was rather restored
than naturalized to the genius of that country: he had German
honour, loved German politics, and could explain himself as little
as if he spoke only German. He might have remained in obscurity,
if the Duke of Newcastle’s necessity of employing men of talents
inferior even to his own, and his alacrity in discovering persons
so qualified, had not dragged poor Sir Thomas into light and
ridicule; yet, if the Duke had _intended_ to please his master, he
could not have succeeded more happily than by presenting him with
so congenial a servant: the King, with such a Secretary in his
closet, felt himself in the very Elysium of Herenhausen!

The Chancellor’s sincerity and services were crowned with an
Earldom; but, as Roman Consuls in the very car of Victory were
coupled with a slave, to remind them of their mortality, Harry
Vane (lately become Lord Barnard by the death of his father,) was
created Earl of Darlington at the same hour.

While England was re-settling into a calm, the troubles continued
in Ireland. A dangerous tumult was raised at the theatre; the
audience called for a repetition of these lines in a translation of
Voltaire’s Mahomet:

                    ---- if, ye powers divine,
      Ye mark the movements of this nether world,
      And bring them to account; crush, crush these vipers,
      Who, singled out by a community
      To guard their rights, shall, for a grasp of ore,
      Or paltry office, sell them to the foe.

Diggs, the actor, refused, by order of Sheridan, the manager, to
repeat them: Sheridan would not even appear on the stage to justify
the prohibition. In an instant, the audience demolished the inside
of the house, and reduced it to a shell. The Lord Mayor was sent
for; he said he was sick: the High-Constable; he was said to be out
of town. At the same time, the King issued the contested money by
his own authority; for, as the whole currency of Ireland does not
amount to above 500,000_l._, the specie in question was necessary
to carry on the circulation. The Castle wore so little a spirit of
pacification, that the Duke of Dorset wrote to press the disgrace
of the Speaker: but the English Ministry would have conjured down
the storm by pressing the Earl of Hertford to go Lord Deputy, when
the Duke of Dorset should return, which would have avoided the
ungracious renewal of the Primate’s share in the Regency. But this
was a most unwelcome measure, not to that Prelate only; Lord George
Sackville foresaw that Mr. Conway, a kind of contemporary rival,
and brother of Lord Hertford, would necessarily share the popular
merit of restoring tranquillity; and accordingly, as was supposed,
instigated the Irish Chancellor to write to England, that, if he
was to carry the Seals before Lord Hertford, he should desire to
come to England during that period. Not content with this, the Duke
himself wrote to prevent having Lord Hertford for Deputy. The Duke
of Newcastle and the Chancellor were much inclined to the pacific
method, but the faction of Stone and Murray prevailed, of whom the
latter always counselled authoritative measures. It was the Duke of
Newcastle’s turn to be bullied. As the latter had usurped England,
and the Duke of Argyle had wormed himself into the sole power in
Scotland, Dorset asserted and maintained his ascendant in Ireland.
The Speaker was removed, and Mr. Hill, uncle of Lord Hilsborough,
was made Chancellor of the Exchequer in his room. The Primate, the
Chancellor, and Lord Besborough, were constituted Lords Justices on
the Duke’s return to England.

On the 8th of April, the Chief-Justice Lee died: Sir Dudley Rider
succeeded him; Murray rose to Attorney-General, and Sir Richard
Loyd was made Solicitor. The same day the English Parliament
was dissolved; and on the 31st of the following month, the new
Parliament, chosen in the very spirit of the Pelhams, met and sat
for five or six days in order to pass one Bill, and constitute
their essence; for, by the Regency Bill, the last Parliament that
should sit in the life of the King, was to revive on his death;
and the new one was too acceptable to the Ministry, not to be
insured. Mr. Legge presided at the Cockpit meeting, for reading
the King’s Speech to the Court members. The little man lost his
temperance of spirit, and began to deceive himself into an opinion
of being a Minister: the Duke of Newcastle, as severe a monitor to
Ministers of their nothingness as the most moral preacher, and more
efficacious, soon shuffled him out of his dream of grandeur, and
having raised him as high as was necessary to his own views, took
an immediate turn of depressing and using him ill. At the Treasury
Board, the Duke gave papers cross him to Lord Duplin to read, and
even sent the latter into the city to negotiate the money affairs
for the Government. The obsequiousness of his creatures could not
exempt them from his Grace’s jealousy, as oft as he approached
them too near to his own person. Legge gave an artful turn to his
disgust, and vaunted to the Whigs that his want of favour was owing
to his refusal of acting in concert with Stone and Murray: “But
that would have been a stain,” said he, “which I thought no time
could wash away.”

Pitt came to town much in discontent: Newcastle asked him his
opinion of the new settlement: he declined answering; on being
pressed, he replied, “Your Grace will be surprised, but I think
Mr. Fox should have been at the head of the House of Commons.”
Their mutual discontents soon led Pitt and Fox to an explanation
on their situation, and on all who had endeavoured to inspire them
with jealousy. Pitt complained most of Mr. Pelham, who, he said,
had always deprecated, but always fomented their variance. The
Chancellor, ever since Pitt’s return, had falsely boasted to him of
having proposed him for Secretary of State.

The halcyon days of the new Administration soon began to be
overcast by foreign clouds. The pacific genius of the house of
Pelham was not unknown to France, and fell in very conveniently
with their plan of extensive empire. They had yielded to a peace
with us, only to recover breath, and to recoil with greater force
after a few years of recruited strength; yet even in the short
term lapsed since the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, they had not been
unactive. Complaisance in Europe was to cover encroachments in
both Indies. Mr. Pelham was willing to be the dupe. If the nation
demanded no redress, he would neither propose nor seek it. Redress
could be procured but by arms; armaments must be furnished by
money; money to be raised might create murmurs; opposition might
ensue--were national honour or interest worth hazarding that? And
having had the merit of lessening the National Debt, he had the
more justifiable and reasonable excuse of dreading to augment it
again, when it was still so burthensome. In the East Indies we had
lost Madras in the late war; and since the peace, under pretence
of the two nations engaging on different sides in support of two
contending Nabobs, hostilities had continued with various success.

During Mr. Pelham’s rapid decline of health, a small fleet had been
fitted out to protect a trade, which the numerous reinforcements
dispatched by the French East India Company, with equal countenance
from their Crown, had already rendered very precarious, indeed
desperate. In Africa, they debauched our Allies, erected forts,
and aimed at embracing the whole Gold Coast and Guinea trade. But
their attempts in America grew daily more open, more avowed, more
alarming, indeed extended to nothing less than by erecting a
chain of garrisons from Canada to the mouths of the Mississippi,
to back all our settlements, cut off our communication with the
Indians west of that river, and inclose and starve our universal
plantations and trade: it would not be necessary to invade them,
they would fall of course. The discussions left unsettled by the
precipitate peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, and proposed to be adjusted
by those most ineffective of all negotiators, Commissaries, gave,
not a pretence, rather an invitation to the French, to dispatch
by force of arms the liquidation of an affair which might be
explained to their disadvantage. The fatal treaty of Utrecht had
left but too many of our interests in the West Indies problematic:
the impetuosity of Lord Bolingbroke to betray Europe left him no
moments, could inspire him with no zeal to assert our pretensions
in America. The rights of either nation, as adjudged by treaties
and mutual concessions, and more easily still to be defined by
their actual establishments, were capable of being made tolerably
clear: if explored to their source, they were mere pretensions in
both. The topic, striking as it is to a mind that can philosophise,
abstractedly from connexions with any particular country, is too
common to be enlarged upon.

A sea captain first spying a rock in the fifteenth century; perhaps
a cross, or a coat of arms set up to the view of a few miles of
coast by an adventurer, or even by a shipwrecked crew, gave the
first claims to Kings and archpirates over an unknown tract of
country. This transitory seizure sometimes obtained the venerable
confirmation of an old priest at Rome (who, a century or two
before, had in his infallibility pronounced that the existence
of such a country was impossible), or of a still more politic,
though not less interested Privy Council at home. Sometimes,
indeed, if the discoverers were conscientious, they made a legal
purchase to all eternity, of empires and posterity from a parcel
of naked natives, for a handful of glass beads and baubles.
Maryland, I think, was solemnly acquired at the extravagant rate
of a quantity of vermilion and Jew’s-harps: I don’t know whether
the authentic instrument may not be recorded in that Christian
depository the Court of Chancery. By means so holy, a few Princes,
who would be puzzled to produce a legitimate title to their own
dominions in Europe, were wafted into rights and prerogatives over
the boundless regions of America. Detachments were sent to take
possession of the new discoveries; they peopled the seaports, they
sprinkled themselves over the coasts, they enslaved or assisted the
wretched natives to butcher one another, instructed them in the
use of firearms, of brandy, and the New Testament, and at last,
by scattered extension of forts and colonies, they have met to
quarrel for the boundaries of Empires, of which they can neither
use nor occupy a twentieth part of the included territory.

What facilitated the enterprises of the French was the extreme
ignorance in which the English Court had kept themselves of the
affairs of America. That department is subjected to the Secretary
of State for the Southern Province, assisted by the Board of Trade.
That Board, during Sir Robert Walpole’s administration, had very
faultily been suffered to lapse almost into a sinecure; and during
all that period the Duke of Newcastle had been Secretary of State.
It would not be credited what reams of papers, representations,
memorials, petitions, from that quarter of the world lay mouldering
and unopened in his office. West Indian Governors could not come
within the sphere of his jealousy: nothing else merited or could
fix his mercurial inattention. He knew as little of the geography
of his province as of the state of it: when General Legonier hinted
some defence to him for Annapolis, he replied with his evasive
lisping hurry, “Annapolis, Annapolis! oh! yes, Annapolis must
be defended; to be sure, Annapolis should be defended--where is
Annapolis?” When the French invasions forced him to arouse a little
from this lethargy, he struggled to preserve his inactivity, by
ordering letters of the most abject and submissive import to be
written to our Governors, who pressed for instructions, nay, for
permission to defend themselves. Somewhat more of this will appear
hereafter. But if he sacrificed the dignity of the Crown with
one hand, he thought to exalt it with the other: the prerogative
was strained unwarrantably over the Assemblies: the instructions
to Sir Danvers Osborn, a new Governor of New York, seemed better
calculated for the latitude of Mexico and for a Spanish tribunal,
than for a free rich British Settlement, and in such opulence and
of such haughtiness, that suspicions had long[244] been conceived
of their meditating to throw off their dependence on their mother
country.

Lord Halifax, who now presided at the Board of Trade, and who,
among the concessions of the Pelhams, had wrenched much American
authority from the Secretary of State, was fond of power and
business, was jealous of his own and country’s honour, encouraged
and countenanced plans and lights for preserving and extending our
trade and dominion in that hemisphere, and as much as he could
counteracted the supineness of the Administration. Had the Rulers
of the State been as alert, the season was favourable; and uncommon
incidents threw occasions into their hands of dispelling the
dangers that hung over them from the French. Spain was revolved to
its true interest; the rudder of Bourbon no longer steered their
Court. The ambitious Queen Dowager, who by money, intrigues, and
by the prospect of her son Carlos’s succession, as the King was
likely to have no children, had preserved a potent faction in the
Ministry, was sinking into impotence of power, and saw all her
schemes blasted. Don Caravalho and Lancaster, the Prime Minister,
died in April this year: the Duke d’Huescar succeeded, and had
raised his friend General Wall to be Minister for Foreign Affairs.
It is not to be told with what regret the latter quitted England,
which had become his country as much by affection as by extraction.
He and the Duke were fortunately old Spaniards in principle, and
being obnoxious to, were consequently averse to, the Queen Dowager
and her French party. One of the first effects of this new Ministry
was the fall of Ensenada, the creature of the Queen Dowager. Sir
Benjamin Keene discovered, and imparted by the means of General
Wall to the King, that Ensenada had sent orders to their West
Indian Governors to fall on our ships, and had lent great sums
of the Royal treasure to the French East India Company. He was
disgraced, but with great lenity, and exiled to Granada.

While the Duke of Newcastle neglected such real opportunities of
popularity, he was entering into little details in the Treasury,
and threatened great reformations in trifles. The first abuses to
be moderated or rooted out were pensions and quarterings on places;
the former to gratify his Majesty, the latter to please public
opinion. This lasted a fortnight: to support his vain power, both
abuses were in his very second year, as will be seen, pushed to
enormity.

In August came news of the defeat of Major Washington in the Great
Meadows on the western borders of Virginia: a trifling action,
but remarkable[245] for giving date to the war. The encroachments
of the French have been already mentioned; but in May they had
proceeded to open hostilities. Major Washington with about fifty
men attacked one of their parties, and slew the commanding Officer.
In this skirmish he was supported by an Indian half king and
_twelve_ of his subjects, who in the Virginian accounts, is called
a very considerable Monarch. On the third of July, the French
being reinforced to the number of nine hundred, fell on Washington
in a small fort, which they took, but dismissed the Commander
with military honours, being willing, as they expressed it in the
capitulation, to show that they treated them like friends! In
the express which Major Washington dispatched on his preceding
little victory, he concluded with these words; “I heard the bullets
whistle, and believe me, there is something charming in the sound.”
On hearing of this letter, the King said sensibly, “He would not
say so, if he had been used to hear many.” However, this brave
braggart[246] learned to blush for his rodomontade, and desiring to
serve General Braddock as Aide-de-camp, acquitted himself nobly.

The violence of this proceeding gave a reverberation to the
stagnated politics of the Ministry: in a moment, the Duke of
Newcastle assumed the hero, and breathed nothing but military
operations: he and the Chancellor held Councils of War; none of the
Ministers, except Lord Holderness, were admitted within their tent.
They knew too well how proper the Duke was to be consulted: of
course they were jealous, and did not consult him. Instead of him,
they summoned one Gates,[247] a very young officer just returned
from Nova Scotia, and asked his advice. He was too sensible of
their absurdity, and replied, that he had never served but in Nova
Scotia, and it would be impertinent to give his opinion; he was
ready to answer any questions. They knew not what to ask. When
this lad would not be a Marshal, they next consulted one Hanbury,
a Quaker, and at his recommendation determined upon Sharpe, the
Governor of Virginia, for their General. They told the King he had
served all the last war, though he had never served, and that the
Duke had a good opinion of him: the Duke said, “So good, that if
Sharpe had been consulted, I am sure he would have refused.” We
must defer the history of the campaign till its proper season.

No other event happened before the meeting of the Parliament except
the decision of a famous cause. The inhabitants of Richmond and the
neighbouring gentlemen, even instigated underhand by the Duke of
Newcastle, had commenced a suit against Princess Amelie[248] for
the right and liberty of entering into New Park at their pleasure:
the case was this: Charles the First made the park, partly by
pecuniary, partly by compulsory methods, and gave great disgusts
by it. Queen Anne gave two or more lives in it to her relations,
the Hydes, who suffered it to run to great decay. When Sir Robert
Walpole became Minister, who was fond of hunting, and wanted
occasional retirement and exercise, he persuaded King George the
First to buy out the family of Hyde, and obtained the Rangership
for his eldest son, which was confirmed to him by the present
King for life. It was a bog, and a harbour for deer-stealers and
vagabonds. Sir Robert Walpole drained it, and expended great sums
upon it himself; but to obtain more privacy and security, he
took away the ladders on the walls, and shut up the gates, but
settled keepers at them, who were to open to all foot-passengers
in the daytime, and to such carriages as had tickets, which were
easily obtained. Princess Amelie succeeded his son Lord Orford,
but preserved no measures of popularity. Her brother William had
incredibly disgusted the neighbourhood of Windsor by excluding them
from most of the benefits of the park there. The Princess entirely
shut up New Park, except by giving very few tickets. Petitions were
presented to her; she would not receive them. They were printed
in the public Newspapers, but had as little effect. Subscriptions
were formed, conferences were held to no purpose. At last the cause
was brought to a trial. Sir John Philipps and the younger Beckford
presented themselves as tribunes of the people to plead the cause,
but instead of influencing the Court, they confounded the rest of
their Council. The Princess carried her cause.[249]

The children of the Crown in England have no landed appanages:
they naturally covet them: Rangerships for lives are the only
territories the King has to bestow. Both the Duke and his sister
entered more easily into the spirit of prerogative than was decent
in a family brought hither for the security of liberty. To shut
up Windsor or Richmond parks, if the law permits, is no violation
of the constitution; but when Princes of the Blood (and the race
is likely to be numerous) come to stand suits for exclusive
privileges, it is easy to foresee into what excesses their ambition
or their necessities may make them slide.

Nov. 14th.--The Parliament met. The King’s speech endeavoured to
inculcate notions of tranquillity, yet with preserving a salvo for
demanding supplies hereafter, by just hinting at the preservation
of our rights in America. Sir George Lee, who moved the Address
in the Commons, spoke plainly on Spain’s having given orders for
restoring our ships. Mr. Conway, who seconded him, went a little
farther, and descanted on the increase of France. Potter ridiculed
Ministerial Addresses well; called them the late lullabies that
always acquainted us with the disposition of all the European
powers to preserve the peace--but France indeed had spoiled that
part of the speech for this year: yet he would agree to the
Address, and consider measures hereafter. The Ministers did not
know which should act Minister for the day: at last Murray pushed
up Legge, who said a few words without dignity; the tenour and
point of which was that our conduct was to be _fortiter in re,
suaviter in modo_. Beckford said, that we had had such an order
for restitution from Spain two years ago; and therefore he should
not trust to this. That the marine and colonies of France had
not increased in proportion to ours. That we should exert naval
strength instead of alliances. With those great alliances in the
last war we had run thirty millions in debt. Queen Elizabeth, in
her distress, did not go about begging and buying alliances.

Mr. Conway replied in a few words elegantly, that Beckford had
mistaken him; that he had not said that the colonies of France
had increased in proportion to ours, but along with their landed
power in Europe; however, that he was far from not thinking them
very formidable in America; for, if we considered their extent of
country along the rivers and lakes, it was like a net, which, if
drawn a little tighter, might shuffle us into the sea. Lord Egmont,
who always larded, or composed his speeches with speculative
topics of government, went back to the Revolution, which, he
said, was Rebellion, if anything more than restitution of the old
constitution. That he would not oppose the Address, because we
wanted unanimity, but that too languid a spirit prevailed. That it
was thought so necessary to keep peace in the Administration, that
we dared not take great steps: yet now was the time, when the House
was no longer under any ministerial influence: however, we must
take care not to provoke France, when part of the King’s dominions
(Ireland) was so discontented. Murray observed, that the new
members must wonder at a Debate without a question or opposition:
but, said he, how will all this be represented abroad? to Spain,
that we don’t believe their offers: to Germany, that we would shake
off all our Allies: to France, that we reckon the peace broken; and
that we make no distinction between our rights and our possessions.
For the Colonies, he believed they would sacrifice everything
rather than submit to France: yet was it judicious in Lord Egmont
to throw out notions of discontents? The Address passed without a
negative.

About this time came unwelcome news to the King: his son-in-law,
Frederic, Hereditary Prince of Hesse Cassel, was discovered to be
turned <DW7>. He was a brutal German, obstinate, of no genius, and
after long treating Princess Mary, who was the mildest and gentlest
of her race, with great inhumanity, had for some time lived upon
no terms with her: his father, the Landgrave William, protected
her: an arbitrary, artful man, of no reputation for integrity. The
hereditary Prince was devoted to France and Prussia. It was not
an age when conversions were common; nor were his morals strict
enough to countenance any pretence to scruples; it was necessary
to recur to private or political reasons for his change, and, from
what has been said, it appears in what numbers they presented
themselves. Yet even the King of Prussia acted zeal for the
Protestant cause. The Landgrave was as outrageous as if he felt for
it too. No obstructions being offered by the Catholic powers, the
Landgrave and States, with the concurrence of the King, enacted
heavy restrictions on the Prince, whenever he should succeed his
father.

The scene began to darken at home. As the Duke of Newcastle
had secured by employments almost every material speaker in
Parliament, it was hoped that the session would be amused, and
pass off with regulating controverted elections: there was one of
much expectation. The majority in all late Parliaments, and still
more in this devoted one, had been composed solely from boroughs:
counties were too extensive to be ventured upon in the way of
expense, and had been left to their own ill humours, and to the
country gentlemen: Oxfordshire in particular had long been a little
kingdom of Jacobitism. The Duke of Marlborough, prodigal, and never
judicious in his extravagance, would not content himself with the
offer made to him by the county, of electing his son as soon as he
should be of age: he determined to choose both representatives
from his own party. Mr. Pelham had received the proposal with joy:
that Duke was led by Fox: if the contest succeeded, Mr. Pelham
would command two more members; if it miscarried, Fox and the Duke
of Marlborough would labour under all the unpopularity. After
unbounded expense, the four candidates were all returned, and the
House was to decide on the merits, which must take up several weeks.

There was another election depending, of still nicer discussion;
that of Mitchell, in Cornwall. Lord Sandwich had long dictated
there, upon the interest of his nephew, Courtney, a minor. The
Duke of Newcastle had now encouraged the Boscawens and Edgcumbes
to oppose him. Lord Sandwich secured the returning officer, but
a petition was lodged against his members. Fox, who sought all
opportunities, where the King’s name could not be pretended,
of crossing the Duke of Newcastle, warmly and openly espoused
Lord Sandwich. Pitt, as ill disposed, was neuter in this; but in
the Reading election pretended connexions with Lord Fane, Lord
Sandwich’s brother-in-law, and declared on the same side. In this
temper the Parliament had opened; and Pitt, who, though ready to
give words in change, was not a man to take them, had already come
to some explanation with the Duke of Newcastle, and had even said
to him, “Fewer words, my Lord, if you please, for your words have
long lost all weight with me.”

21st.--A day was to be appointed for hearing the Mitchell election:
Lord Sandwich, who tried to defer its being heard, was beat with
127 by 154.

25th.--Another petition being in agitation, the House thin and
idle, a younger Delaval had spoken pompously and abusively against
the petitioner, and had thrown the House into a laughter on the
topics of bribery and corruption. Pitt, who was in the gallery,
started, and came down with impetuosity, and with all his former
fire said, “He had asked what occasioned such an uproar; lamented
to hear a laugh on such a subject as bribery! Did we try _within_
the House to diminish our own dignity, when such attacks were made
upon it from without? that it was almost lost! that it wanted
support! that it had long been vanishing! scarce possible to
recover it! that he hoped the Speaker would extend a saving hand to
raise it: he could only restore it--yet scarce he! He called on all
to assist, or else _we should only sit to register the arbitrary
edicts of One too powerful a subject_!” This thunderbolt, thrown
in a sky so long serene, confounded the audience. Murray crouched,
silent and terrified. Legge scarce rose to say with great humility,
“That he had been raised solely by the Whigs, and if he fell
sooner or later, he should pride himself in nothing but in being a
Whig.”

The evening of this novel day was still more tempestuous. The
Committee of Elections opened. Mr. Gray, a steady but plausible
Tory, favoured by the Chancellor and Sir George Lyttelton, desired
to have the petition against him from Colchester deferred, till
it was sure of being heard. Sir Thomas Robinson said, “That might
be soon, for the Reading election, which was to precede it, could
not last long; there was but a majority of one vote for Lord Fane,
and it was a poor cause.” Pitt sprung up, and attacked Sir Thomas
fiercely; told him how ignorant he was to talk in that style of
a cause unheard; that he was not to be thus taught his duty by
any man; but if the first officer in the State could make so
gross a supposition, there would be short work with elections: he
never thought to see so melancholy a day! Sir Thomas replied with
pomp, confusion, and warmth, that spirit should be shown: could
gentlemen, could merchants, could the House bear, if eloquence
alone was to carry it? he hoped words only would not prevail! that
for himself, he executed an office, of which he had never been
ambitious. Pitt replied with cool art, and showed that he had only
aimed the stroke at the Duke of Newcastle, through Sir Thomas, to
whom he now spoke with respect, and with esteem of his integrity;
adding, _that he thought him as able as any man that had of late
years filled that office, or was likely to fill it_. The weapons
that Pitt laid down Fox took up, and exercised them with still
more inveteracy and warmth on poor Sir Thomas and his ignorance:
“If one of the greatest men in the House pronounced it a poor
cause, it would indeed be a poor cause; but he imputed it to his
inexperience: he was the first great man, and he hoped would be the
last, that ever pronounced so on a cause unheard!” It was plain
that Pitt and Fox were impatient of any superior; and as plain by
the complexion and murmurs of the House in support of Sir Thomas
Robinson, that the inclinations of the members favoured neither of
them.

27th.--The Committee sat on the Army, late but without a division;
and in general the Debate was dull: the subject had long been
exhausted, and during the former Opposition had been a constant
day for teaching young and callow orators to soar. The younger
Beckford, who had been announced for a genius, and had laid a
foundation for being so, by studying magazines and historical
registers, made a tedious harangue against standing armies; and
moved for 15,000 men, instead of the old number of 18,800. Lord
Barrington answered him well, and told him how little difference it
would make to the constitution; if eighteen thousand intended to
overturn it, fifteen might. That none of the usual number could be
spared; from whence could they? The licentiousness of the capital,
the mutinous miners and colliers, the smugglers, the destroyers
of turnpikes, all the outlaws that increase of riches and licence
produces and encourages, all were to be kept in awe. And so far
from soldiers being a burthen, the country rejoices in being
under their protection. That instead of squabbling for trifles,
everybody should unite at this conjuncture to make the late great
man as little missed as possible. That the great men he has left
will show spirit; and spirit never brought on a war. His Majesty
has the hearts of the people, of all who can feel gratitude or the
benefits of their own situation. The Ministry have popularity, and
it must be owing to Beckford’s absence in Jamaica, that he did
not know that the period which he had wished to see of a popular
King and Administration, was actually arrived--but perhaps Jamaica
Newspapers were as faulty as our own. Fox told the elder Beckford,
that if he was Sheriff next year, he hoped he would not keep the
resolution he had declared, of not calling in the military, if they
are wanted: and added, that the soldiers behave so discreetly,
that in eight years that he had been Secretary at War, he had not
received three complaints in a year, even from innkeepers.

Nugent added in reply to Beckford (who had said that the Opposition
were Whigs and the Ministry Tories,) that he hoped he had not
taken his idea of Whigs from those who refused King William his
Dutch troops: if he had, he did not wonder that he mistook the
Ministers for Tories. He applied the old apologue of the hen
and ducklings; and then flew out into this gross and barefaced
strain, _that there did not exist an honester man than the Duke
of Newcastle!_ professing that he should be the most crouching
slave if he meant this for flattery. Pitt, only smiling at this
Drawcansir in adulation, and bent to pursue the humiliation of
Murray, said that the moderation of the Estimate was a proof of the
Crown’s attention to economy; but he could by no means agree in
our opulence, and would recommend it to gentlemen not to deceive
themselves or others. We are in reality a distressed people: he
hated declamation, and was as little given to anger, but nothing
should hinder him from asserting what he felt, and from averring
what he knew. Young members may allow too much to what is spoken
in that place: when anybody says he don’t believe that Jacobitism
exists, he would tell him to his face he did not believe what he
said. Nugent called him to order.

Pitt was a little disconcerted, but resuming himself said, “For the
nursing mother, the hen, he had been bred under such an one,[250]
and he would tell the House what she had been doing for these
twenty years; she had been raising a succession of treason--there
never was such a seminary! but he would throw himself into the
gap, and would as cheerfully make his protest alone, as in the
most applauding assembly. He knew what he was; he knew what he
would be; and was too cool not to know what he said. That the body
he meant (Oxford) was learned and respectable: so much the more
dangerous! he would mention what had happened to himself the last
summer on a party of pleasure thither. They were at the window of
the Angel Inn; a lady was desired to sing _God save great George
our King!_ The chorus was re-echoed by a set of young lads drinking
at a college over the way, but with additions of rank treason. He
hoped, as they were lads, he should be excused from not having
taken more notice of it. After this, walking down the High Street,
in a Bookseller’s shop he observed a print of a young Highlander
with a blue ribbon: the Bookseller, thinking he wanted to buy it,
held it out to him--but what was the motto!--_hunc saltem everso
Juvenem!_--This was the prayer of that learned body--for it was in
Latin!” Colours, much less words, could not paint the confusion
and agitation that worked in Murray’s face during this almost
apostrophe! his countenance spoke everything that Fawcett had been
terrified to prevaricate away.

Two days after this, an incident happened of a private nature,
scarce worth mentioning, but as it served to dissolve the remains
of so historic a friendship as that of Mr. Pitt and Sir George
Lyttelton, and brought out all the colours of some remarkable
characters. Mr. Conway was repeating with concern to the younger
Walpole the lamentations of Sir George on Mr. Pitt’s coldness[251]
and his own apprehensions that the complexion of the times denoted
new troubles. Walpole, who had not so pacific a disposition, but
whose passion to see a new Opposition had been considerably damped
by Mr. Fox’s acquiescence under the Duke of Newcastle’s sole power,
and who loved Mr. Conway enough to sacrifice to his love of peace,
when he had little prospect of gratifying his own love of party,
owned to him carelessly, that he knew the Duke of Bedford had a
propensity to reconcile himself to the Court, that the Duchess and
her friends were eager for it, and gave Mr. Conway leave to talk
it over with Sir George Lyttelton, if by any means they could
make use of this disposition to reconcile the growing humours. It
was singular, that Horace Walpole, who had so eagerly attacked the
promotion both of Pitt and Lyttelton, should, in the most distant
manner, negotiate their re-union. However, on reflection (for it
is certain that he had dropped this discourse without any), he
recollected, that it was not acting handsomely by Mr. Fox, who
at least was out of humour, to throw new strength into the Duke
of Newcastle; and accordingly went to Mr. Conway to retract the
permission he had given, and to desire no mention might be made of
what had passed in their conversation--but how was he surprised to
meet Mr. Conway coming to him in the greatest anxiety, and begging
his pardon, for what indeed Mr. Conway was not to blame.

In short, Sir George Lyttelton, who had before professed to Mr.
Conway a resolution of quitting his employment, unless he could
hold it with Mr. Pitt’s good opinion, had been so struck with the
first idea of what he heard of the Duke of Bedford, and saw such
an opening to favour by transacting the treaty, that instead of
consulting with, or leaving it to Mr. Conway’s coolness or fitness
to chalk out the path of negotiation, he hurried to Newcastle
House, and whispered his intelligence. Newcastle said, with his
usual hurry, “My dear Sir George, there is nothing I would not
give to accomplish such a reconciliation.” Sir George, accepting
this declaration as full powers, and forgetting at once that he was
aggravating his breach of friendship with Mr. Pitt, and that of all
men living he was the most improper to transact with the Duke of
Bedford on so nice a point, having quitted him for Newcastle, and
being involved in a private family quarrel with him too, posted
away to Bedford House, demanded an audience, took no measures to
soften the abruptness of his commission, but at once told that
Duke, that he understood his Grace was a little mollified, and in
the Duke of Newcastle’s name, offered him _charte blanche_.--How
was the volunteer Ambassador astonished at a flat refusal! The hot
little Duke was transported with the importance this gave him; and
notwithstanding the solicitation of the Duchess and his Court,
whose measures were all overset by Lyttelton’s awkward policy, the
Duke immediately sent for Mr. Pitt, and communicated the message.
Pitt flattered his steady virtue and disinterestedness, and broke
openly with Sir George, who was first disavowed by the Duke of
Newcastle, and then disavowed his own having gone so far as he had
done. Horace Walpole, who would have had art indeed, had he planned
and foreseen how the event would blow up the six months’ labour of
the pacific part of Bedford House, but who had acted merely from
inadvertence, laughed and confirmed the Duke of Bedford in his
highest opinion of his own importance and steady virtue.

The late impetuous and joint attack on Sir Thomas Robinson had
alarmed his principal: the Duke of Newcastle saw his mighty power
totter; yet he could not determine to share it. The first thought
was to dismiss Pitt. This was too bold a measure to have the
preference long: the next, more natural, was to try to sweeten Fox:
accordingly, on the morning of the 29th, the King sent for Fox, and
reproached him for concurring to worry Sir Thomas Robinson, and
asked him if he had united with Pitt to oppose his measures? Fox
assured him he had not, and that he had given him his honour he
would resign first. “Then,” said the King, “will you stand up and
carry on my measures in the House of Commons, as you can do, with
spirit?” Fox replied, “I must know, Sir, what means I shall have,
or I cannot answer for what I cannot answer.” “It will be better
for you,” said the King; “you shall have favour, advantage, and
confidence”--but would not explain particulars, only asking, if he
would go to the Duke of Newcastle. “I must, if you command me,”
answered Fox, “go and say I have forgot everything.” “No,” replied
the King: “I have a good opinion of you; you have abilities and
honesty, but you are too warm. I will send a common friend, Lord
Waldegrave.” He told him too, “I have obligations to you that I
never mentioned; my son (the Prince) tried you, and you would not
join him; and yet you made no merit of it to me.”

The negotiation was entrusted to Lord Waldegrave: Stone, probably
from perceiving that Murray dared not undertake the rudder of the
House of Commons, promoted the treaty--and did himself no service
with the Princess, who prevailed on Lord Egmont to accept, and on
the King to offer him an employment. The Junto, who had laboured to
keep Pitt and Fox disunited, more than to secure either of them,
were reduced to take the one or the other. The Chancellor had
discovered so much of the secret of his breast, as to ask Pitt,
“Could you bear to act _under_ Fox?” Pitt replied, “My Lord, leave
out _under_; it will never be a word between us; Mr. Fox and I
shall never quarrel.” Originally, Pitt had assured the Chancellor
and the Duke of Newcastle that he would not unite with Fox. When
he saw that to promote division was their only drift, he sought
heartily and sincerely to league with Fox, and told him that they
had _formalized_ at his professions.

Fox, irresolute, affecting content, borne down by the Duke from
opposition, and aspiring at sole power, conferred with Pitt, but
would not enter into real measures. The King proposed that Fox
should write his demands: he asked for time, waiting to see what
should be their decision on Pitt, who set them at defiance. The
Duke of Marlborough proposed to Fox, to limit his demands to
a Cabinet-Counsellor’s place, “For,” said he, “you don’t mind
money.” The Duke of Cumberland disapproved the advice: “The King,”
said his Royal Highness, “could do better and more sensibly
than he will, but he will do just as the Duke of Newcastle bids
him. He has a good memory; he will remember this; and when he
sees a proper occasion, perhaps some years hence, he will tell
you you did right--but he will never tell you so till he sees
that occasion. I don’t know him, but by what you tell me, Pitt
is, what is scarce--he is a man. If they should give you this
Cabinet-Counsellor’s place, and Pitt should hereafter attack the
Duke of Newcastle, and you should not defend him, they will say you
have broke your word.”

The Duke of Marlborough persisted, but advised Fox to add, that he
would not oppose Pitt. The Duke approved it with this modification.
Fox drew the letter, and showed it to Pitt, who liked it, provided
some words were omitted; “For,” said he, “if they give a hint to
invention that I would do the least thing to keep my place, it
would hurt me beyond measure.” The letter thanked the King for his
goodness, and said, that understanding what his Majesty, who was
determined to have no Minister at the head of the House of Commons,
required, was, that he (Fox) should act there with spirit, not
only in his private but public capacity, he, coveting no lucrative
employment, wished only for a feather, to show that his Majesty had
done him the honour to ask his assistance. Cabinet-Counsellor was
not specified, but was construed to be meant, by Lord Waldegrave,
who delivered the letter, and who explained to the King, that Fox
would never accept Pitt’s place, that it might not be objected to
him at his re-election, and that Pitt might not say he answered
him for money. He was ready to act _under_ Sir Thomas Robinson,
“For,” said Fox, laughing, “what is acting under _him_? if there
is a meeting of the Council, it will be his paper and pens and his
green table: if we both rise to speak, I will yield to him.” Lord
Waldegrave added, that if Fox answered Pitt, it should always be
in defence of the measures, but with particular civility. These
qualifications were accepted, and the dignity of Cabinet-Counsellor
granted a few days afterwards. Yet Fox, on receiving it, privately
forswore all connexion with Pitt. As the latter came to the
knowledge of that secret abjuration, and as it was so much the
interest of men so little scrupulous of treachery as the Chancellor
and the Duke of Newcastle, to have Pitt apprized of it, it is
neither refining nor uncharitable to suspect who divulged it.

The Mutiny Bill coming on, Mr. Fox had showed Lord Egmont a
new clause for subjecting the American regiments to English
discipline. He took it as gravely as if he were still to oppose,
though it was public that he was to succeed the superannuated Lord
Fitzwalter, as Treasurer of the Household, and, as he himself had
said, by special command of the Princess. The first day he did not
attend. December 11th, Oswald and Henley spoke for the clause:
Lord Egmont, struck with the old sounds, and forgetting his new
engagements, could not resist the impulse of haranguing against a
Mutiny Bill. He rose, and spoke on his ancient topics of military
law, of massacre and butchery, and of all he had foretold, and
said, that everybody must be sensible that, in the situation he
stood, he must have had grievances brought to him from every part
of the known world; and talked much on the old constitution, the
feudal law, and prerogative. Pitt spoke after him, but gently,
and not well; Lord George Sackville well. Charles Townshend (who
had ambitioned the Treasury on the late settlement, had stuck
out for some time, and had then accepted the Admiralty), hurt at
a new promotion over his head, started up, and not considering
how indecent it was in him, a little Minister, to discourage
renegades, fell with warmth and insolence and eloquence on Lord
Egmont; pointed out the ridicule of a popular tribune speaking for
prerogative, and against revolution principles; then panegyrized
the Board of Trade, defended all their acts, even the instructions
to Sir Danvers Osborn; and, turning again to Lord Egmont, bade him
take the poor American by the hand, and point out his grievances;
his Lordship was able, and used to be willing to bring out
grievances; he had threatened he would; yet he defied him--if that
would not do, he beseeched him--to point out one grievance; for
his part, he did not know of one; he should be glad to learn why
his Lordship did not intend to mention one _now_: and then, in the
most provoking manner, and in terms most intelligible, he attacked
him on the place he was going to accept. Lord Egmont was abashed,
replied with confusion, said he might state grievances hereafter,
but hoped things were going to be redressed. He was over-powered
by the attack, and excused himself from accepting the promised
employment.

At the conclusion of the year deceased two men in great offices,
whose deaths made remarked what their lives might have done;
how little they were worthy of their exaltation. The one, Lord
Gower, Lord Privy Seal, had indeed a large fortune, and commanded
boroughs. Lord Albemarle, the other, died suddenly at Paris, where
his mistress sold him to that Court. Yet the French Ministry had
little to vaunt; while they were purchasing the instructions of
our Embassador, attentive only to acquire the emptiest of their
accomplishments, they employed at our Court a man too empty
to learn even the dullest of ours. Lord Albemarle made great
proficience in the study of their manners, while Monsieur de
Mirepoix could not learn even to pronounce the names of one or two
of our games at cards, which, however, engaged most of the hours of
his negotiation. Our Colonies were to be protected by the copy of a
_Petit Maitre_; we were to be bullied out of them by an apprentice
to whist! How serious a science, Politics!


FOOTNOTES:

[240] The Duke of Newcastle. This was written in 1756.

[241] Expression of Shakspeare in the Tempest, in one of the scenes
of sailors.

[242] In the reign of George the First.

[243] [There are no traces of this in Mr. Fox’s papers. On the
contrary, he and Sir Charles continued intimate friends till the
illness and death of the latter.]--E.

[244] [If as the Author asserts, this was written at the time, it
is a very remarkable passage.]--E.

[245] And as remarkable for being the first action in which
Washington was mentioned, who near thirty years afterwards became
the principal figure in America.

[246] [It is wonderful that Lord Orford should have allowed this
expression to remain after he had lived to witness and admire the
subsequent career of that great man, General Washington.]--E.

[247] This young man also was afterwards a considerable person in
America.

[248] His Grace had formerly pretended to be in love with Princess
Emily, but hated her now, on her connexion with her brother, the
Duke, and the Bedfords.

[249] She carried her cause against a road for coaches and carts,
but some few years afterwards lost a suit commenced against her for
a footway, on which she abandoned the park.

[250] Oxford.

[251] Pitt and Lord Temple resented Lyttelton’s negotiating for
them, though it is certain he had used all his endeavours to serve
them--but as they had meant to have the sole power of serving, not
to be served, they treated him as ill as if he had sold them.




APPENDIX.




APPENDIX.


B.

(_Vide page 9._)

  _Constitutional Queries, earnestly recommended to the serious
  Consideration of every true Briton, dispersed in 1751, and
  ascribed to Lord Egmont._

Whether this capital may not be beset with troops, under such
orders and commands, as may render the power of King, Lords, and
Commons precarious; and subject our liberties, property, and laws,
once more, to a military regulation?

Whether, if alarm posts should be appointed, places of rendezvous
assigned, officers have the word, not to be absent, though on no
duty, without express leave, and to hold themselves in readiness
on a moment’s warning, such regulations in time of peace would not
have a martial air, by no means becoming the freedom of a British
constitution?

Whether disgracing or dismissing old officers, men of family, men
of property, in order to make way for the promotion of boys,
slaves, and beggars, would not be such a garbling of the Army, as
might furnish very melancholy apprehensions of its destination?

Whether such terrifying dispositions ought not to alarm a free
people; and might not with too much reason induce them to
apprehend, that the time was approaching when some _important blow
was to be struck_?

Whether, if a _younger_ son of the Crown should ever be invested
with absolute power over such an Army; and, at the same time, by
a factious connexion, make himself master of the Fleet, our lives
and fortunes might not be dependent on his will and pleasure, and
the _Right of Succession_ have no other security than his want of
ambition?

Whether adding to this dangerous degree of power the sole
direction of affairs in the Cabinet likewise, might not give him
such a dictatorial authority as would enable him to expel from
his father’s Council and person every moderate Minister, true
Englishman, and old servant of the Crown, who, though perhaps
unable to prevent, might in some measure delay, the execution of
his designs?

Whether, during the time of peace, experiment has not been actually
made in one part of this country (now under the cloud of prejudice)
how far an army may be depended on in usurping a dominion over law?

Whether, if in any country express and positive orders should
be generally and circularly given by authority to the troops to
execute the law, to seize and imprison the persons of the subjects,
upon such information as they should think sufficient, without the
concurrence of the civil power, such country might not be deemed
under a direct military government in its rankest form?

Whether a successful attempt in one part of a country would not
furnish sanguine hopes of reducing the remaining part to the like
unconstitutional dominion?

Whether the omnipotence of a commander, joined with the faction,
stupidity, and corruption of the times, might not be able to stifle
and baffle all regular proof of such notorious acts of arbitrary
and tremendous power?

Whether it might not be prudent to reflect on the fatal instances
of John of Lancaster and crook-backed Richard?

Whether an abused K---- and kingdom, liberty, property, and the
laws, do not all concur to inspire this timely invocation?

  GOD PRESERVE THE SUCCESSION.


C.

(_Vide page 31._)

_The following Queries are humbly offered to the serious
consideration of every True Englishman._

Whether it has not strongly appeared by the late conduct of the
House of Commons, that they are more eager and industrious to
create and to foment the spirit of party and sedition, than to
promote the liberty and happiness of the people?

Whether the leaders of the House have not by open force, as well as
private fraud, endeavoured to weaken and reduce even the appearance
of a free constitution?

Whether, in the case of Mr. Murray, the House of Commons did not
assume a power they had no just right to?

Whether they did not proceed throughout in a most illegal,
unconstitutional, unprecedented manner?

Whether they did not try him upon an accusation they knew to be
false, scandalous, and groundless?

Whether they did not condemn him in defiance of all law, and in the
most open violation of justice?

Whether their proceedings have not made a dangerous encroachment
upon the freedom and independency of the British people, as well
as brought a lasting dishonour upon the British Parliament?

Whether their daily conduct does not tend, instead of remedying the
distractions of a jarring people, to throw them into a continued
confusion, and to make resentment and rebellion become habitual to
Britain?

Whether there is not reason to expect that we shall soon be
deprived of the most valuable right a British subject can enjoy,
the right of election?

Whether we are not bound upon the most conscientious motives by any
means in our power to defend it?

Can we patiently look upon these fresh endeavours to abuse and to
divide the nation? can we patiently bear fresh loads of oppression
multiplied without measure, and extended without limitation?


D.

(_Vide page 77._)

This song was written immediately after the loss of the battle
of Fontenoy, and was addressed to Lady Catherine Hanmer, Lady
Falconberg, and Lady Middlesex, who were to act the three goddesses
with Frederick Prince of Wales, in the Judgment of Paris, whom he
was to represent, and Prince Lobkowitz, Mercury.

SONG,

BY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES.

      1.

      Venez, mes cheres Deesses,
      Venez, calmer mon chagrin;
      Aidez, mes belles Princesses,
      A le noyer dans le vin.
      Poussons cette douce ivresse
      Jusqu’au milieu de la nuit,
      Et n’écoutons que la tendresse
      D’un charmant vis-à-vis.

      2.

      Quand le chagrin me devore,
      Vite à table je me mets,
      Loin des objêts que j’abhorre,
      Avec joie j’y trouve la paix.
      Peu d’amis, restes d’un naufrage,
      Je rassemble autour de moi,
      Et je me ris de l’étalage
      Qu’a chez lui toujours un Roi.

      3.

      Que m’importe que l’Europe
      Ait un ou plusieurs tyrans?
      Prions seulement Calliope
      Qu’elle inspire nos vers, nos chants.
      Laissons Mars et toute la gloire,
      Livrons nous tous à l’amour;
      Que Bacchus nous donne à boire;
      A ces deux faisons la cour.

      4.

      Passons ainsi notre vie,
      Sans rêver à ce qui suit;
      Avec ma chere Silvie[252]
      Le tems trop vite me fuit.
      Mais si par un malheur extreme,
      Je perdois cet objêt charmant;
      Oui, cette compagnie même
      Ne me tiendroit un moment.

      5.

      Me livrant à ma tristesse,
      Toujours plein de mon chagrin,
      Je n’aurois plus d’allegresse
      Pour mettre Bathurst[253] en train.
      Ainsi pour vous tenir en joie,
      Invoquez toujours les Dieux,
      Qu’elle vive et qu’elle soit
      Avec nous toujours heureux.


E.

(_Vide page 77._)

SONG.

THE CHARMS OF SYLVIA.

BY THE PRINCE OF WALES ON THE PRINCESS.

      ’Tis not the liquid brightness of those eyes,
        That swim with pleasure and delight,
      Nor those heavenly arches which arise
        O’er each of them to shade their light:

      ’Tis not that hair which plays with every wind,
        And loves to wanton round thy face;
      Now straying round the forehead, now behind
        Retiring with insidious grace:

      ’Tis not that lovely range of teeth so white,
        As new-shorn sheep equal and fair;
      Nor e’en that gentle smile, the heart’s delight,
        With which no smile could e’er compare:

      ’Tis not that chin so round, that neck so fine,
        Those breasts that swell to meet my love,
      That easy sloping waist, that form divine,
        Nor ought below, nor ought above:

      ’Tis not the living colours over each
        By nature’s finest pencil wrought,
      To shame the full-blown rose, and blooming peach,
        And mock the happy painter’s thought:

      No[254]--’tis that gentleness of mind, that love
        So kindly answering my desire;
      That grace with which you look, and speak, and move,
        That thus has set my soul on fire.


(_Vide page 78._)

The elegy alluded to was probably the effusion of some Jacobite
royalist. That faction could not forgive the Duke of Cumberland
his excesses, or successes, in Scotland; and not content with
branding the Parliamentary Government of the House of Brunswick
as usurpation, indulged in frequent, unfeeling, and scurrilous
personalities on every branch of the reigning family.

          Here lies Fred,
      Who was alive, and is dead;
          Had it been his father,
          I had much rather:
          Had it been his brother,
          Still better than another;
          Had it been his sister,
          No one would have missed her;
          Had it been the whole generation,
          Still better for the nation;
          But since ’tis only Fred,
      Who was alive, and is dead,--
          There’s no more to be said.


(_Vide page 88._)

  _Note._--[The following, which is styled “Brief account of
  George Bubb Doddington, Lord Melcombe,” is written in Horace
  Walpole’s printed copy of the Diary; and as it contains some
  traits of character, and other anecdotes of a person who is often
  mentioned in the Memoirs, and who has himself related many of the
  same transactions, it is here subjoined to the work, though no
  injunctions to that purport were left by the author.]

George Bubb Doddington was son of an apothecary at Carlisle,
by a sister or near relation of Mr. Doddington of Eastberry,
in Dorsetshire, who bequeathed him his estate and name, with
obligation to finish the vast seat at Eastberry, designed by
Vanbrugh; and which was pulled down by Richard Grenville, first
Earl Temple, on whom it was entailed, in case of Bubb’s having
no issue, as happened. Doddington had a great deal of wit, great
knowledge of business, and was an able speaker in Parliament,
though an affected one, and though most of his speeches were
premeditated. He was, as his diary shows, vain, fickle, ambitious,
servile, and corrupt. Early in his life, he had been devoted to
Sir Robert Walpole, and in an epistle to him, which Pope quotes,
had professed himself,

      In power a servant, out of power a friend.

At a much later period of life he published an epistle to Lord
Bute, whom he styled Pollio. Mr. Wyndham, editor of his Diary,
wrote to Dr. Joseph Warton, in 1784, that he had found, among
Doddington’s papers, an old copy of that poem, _but inscribed to
Sir Robert Walpole_. He fell more than once under the lash of Pope,
who coupled him with Sir William Yonge in this line--

      The flowers of Bubbington and flow of Yonge.

Soon after the arrival of Frederick Prince of Wales in England,
Doddington became a favourite, and submitted to the Prince’s
childish horse-play, being once rolled up in a blanket, and
trundled down stairs; nor was he negligent in paying more solid
court, by lending his Royal Highness[255] money. He was, however,
supplanted, I think, by George, afterwards Lord Lyttelton, and
again became a courtier and placeman at St. James’s; but once more
reverted to the Prince at the period where his Diary commences.
Pope was not the only poet who diverted the town at Doddington’s
expense. Sir Charles Hanbury ridiculed him in a well-known
dialogue with Gyles Earle, and in a ballad entitled “A Grub upon
Bubb.” Dr. Young, on the contrary, who was patronized by him,
has dedicated to him one of his satires on the love of fame, as
Lyttelton had inscribed one of his cantos on the progress of love.
Glover, and that prostitute fellow Ralph, were also countenanced by
him, as the Diary shows.

Doddington’s own wit was very ready. I will mention two instances.
Lord Sundon was Commissioner of the Treasury with him and
Winnington, and was very dull. One Thursday, as they left the
board, Lord Sundon laughed heartily at something Doddington
said; and when gone, Winnington said, “Doddington, you are very
ungrateful; you call Sundon stupid and slow, and yet you see how
quick he took what you said.” “Oh, no,” replied Doddington, “he
was only laughing now at what I said last Treasury day.”--Mr.
Trenchard, a neighbour, telling him, that though his pinery was
expensive, he contrived, by applying the fire and the dung to other
purposes, to make it so advantageous, that he believed he got a
shilling by every pine-apple he ate. “Sir,” said Doddington, “I
would eat them for half the money.”--Doddington was married to a
Mrs. Behan, whom he was supposed to keep. Though secretly married,
he could not own her, as he then did, till the death of Mrs.
Strawbridge, to whom he had given a promise of marriage, under
the penalty of ten thousand pounds. He had long made love to the
latter, and, at last, obtaining an assignation, found her lying on
a couch. However, he only fell on his knees, and after kissing her
hand for some time, cried out, “Oh, that I had you but in a wood!”
“In a wood!” exclaimed the disappointed dame; “what would you do
then? Would you _rob_ me?” It was on this Mrs. Strawbridge that was
made the ballad,

      My Strawberry--my Strawberry
        Shall bear away the bell;

to the burthen and tune of which Lord Bath, many years afterwards,
wrote his song on “Strawberry Hill.”

Doddington had no children. His estate descended to Lord Temple,
whom he hated, as he did Lord Chatham, against whom he wrote a
pamphlet to expose the expedition to Rochfort.

Nothing was more glaring in Doddington than his want of taste, and
the tawdry ostentation in his dress and furniture of his houses.
At Eastberry, in the great bedchamber, hung with the richest red
velvet, was pasted, on every panel of the velvet, his crest (a
hunting-horn supported by an eagle) cut out of gilt leather. The
foot-cloth round the bed was a mosaic of the pocket-flaps and cuffs
of all his embroidered clothes. At Hammersmith[256] his crest, in
pebbles, was stuck into the centre of the turf before his door. The
chimney-piece was hung with spars representing icicles round the
fire, and a bed of purple, lined with orange, was crowned by a dome
of peacock’s feathers. The great gallery, to which was a beautiful
door of white marble, supported by two columns of _lapis lazuli_,
was not only filled with busts and statues, but had, I think, an
inlaid floor of marble; and all this weight was above stairs.

One day showing it to Edward, Duke of York, Doddington said, “Sir,
some persons tell me that this room ought to be on the ground.” “Be
easy, Mr. Doddington,” replied the Prince, “it will soon be there.”

In the approach to his villa at Hammersmith, Mr. Doddington erected
a noble obelisk, surmounted by an urn of bronze, to the memory of
his wife, who died before him. Mr. Wyndham, his heir, took down the
obelisk, and sold it. The Diary was certainly not published entire.
A gentleman, who saw it five years before it was published, missed
some particular passages.--H. W., June 7th, 1784.

Another instance of Doddington’s wit. Doddington was very
lethargic: falling asleep one day, after dinner, with Sir Richard
Temple, Lord Cobham, the General, the latter reproached Doddington
with his drowsiness; Doddington denied having been asleep, and
to prove he had not, offered to repeat all Lord Cobham had been
saying. Cobham challenged him to do so. Doddington repeated a
story, and Lord Cobham owned he had been telling it. “Well,” said
Doddington, “and yet I did not hear a word of it; but I went to
sleep because I knew that about this time of day you would tell
that story.” * * * *


(_Vide page 98._)

In the Sackville family a son of talents had frequently succeeded
a father below mediocrity. The following epigram, founded on that
circumstance, was ascribed to Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, but
never acknowledged by him, or included in the manuscript copies of
his poems. The last stanza was unjust, as well as severe; but there
is so much arch humour in the first, that it is worth preserving:--

      Folly and sense in Dorset’s race
        Alternately do run,
      As Carey one day told his Grace,
        Praising his eldest son.

      But Carey must allow for once
        Exception to this rule;
      For Middlesex is but a dunce,
        Though Dorset be a fool.

            * * * *


(_Vide page 164._)

The following inscription, though professedly written on a Swedish
nobleman, the English reader will at once apply to a certain great
statesman of British manufacture:--

  “HIC SITUS EST
  SENATUS PRINCEPS, et REGNI PRÆFECTUS;
  Vir nobilis, splendidus, affabilis, blandus,
  At animo non magno, nec magnâ corporis dignitate.
  Cujus nomen et laudes tota jamdiu celebrat Academia;
  Quem sacerdotes aulici omnes imprimis observant;
  Quem reverendissimi Præsules, ut Deum colunt.

  Qui cibi conquisitissimi perquàm intelligens,
  Et convivia sumptuosè apparandi unicus instructor,
  Doctissimos Trimalchionis coquos,
  Mercede amplissimâ conductos,
  In patriam, inque patriæ, scilicet, honorem,
  Primus curavit arcessendos.

  Qui indisertus, loquax, obscurus,
  Disertissimos oratores, et sapientissimos
  Non modò vicit omnes,
  Sed hos ipsos semper habuit
  Sententiæ suæ astipulatores.

  Quippe populi captandi, et corrumpendi mirus artifex,
  Atque ad conservandam, quam consecutus est, potentiam,
  Ut alius nemo, callidus,
  Summam Imperii diu tenuit.
  Rei tamen publicæ administrandæ,
  Perinde atque suæ,
  Minimè peritus.

  Tria millia talentûm ex agris et fortunis suis,
  Totidemque fortasse e regio, cui præest, ærario
  Exhausit, et dissipavit.
  Neque quemquam hominem probissimum,
  Deque republicâ, aut re literariâ optimè meritum,
  Liberalitate suâ decoravit, aut adjuvit.

  Solus ex omnibus
  Belli et pacis arbiter fuit constitutus:
  At belli legitimè suscipiendi, et persequendi,
  Aut pacis honestè retinendæ, aut firmandæ
  Solus ex omnibus expers et ignarus.

  Semper vehementissimè occupatus,
  Ac res permagnas visus agere,
  Omninò nihil agit.
  Semper festinans, properansque,
  Atque ad metam tendere prorsùm simulans,
  Nunquam pervenit.

  Hæc fortassis, Viator, rides:
  Sta verò et tristem lege Epilogum;
  HUJUS unius hominis inscitia
  Tantum impressit dedecus,
  Tantum attulit detrimentum reipublicæ,
  Ut omnibus appareat,
  Nisi SUECIÆ Genius, siquis est, sese interponat,
  SUECIAM futuram non esse.”


(_Vide page 177._)

Henrietta, daughter of Sir Henry Hobart, was first married to
Colonel Henry Howard, afterwards Earl of Suffolk, by whom she had
an only son, Henry, who succeeded his father, but died a young
man. Mr. Howard and she travelled in very mean circumstances to
Hanover before the accession of that family to the Crown; and after
it, she was made a Woman of the Bedchamber to the Princess; and
being _confidante_ of the Prince’s passion for a lady, who was in
love with, and soon after privately married to, a Colonel, Mrs.
Howard had the address to divert the channel of his inclination
to herself. Her husband bore it very ill, and attempted to force
her from St. James’s, but was at last quieted with a pension of
1200_l._ per annum. Yet Mrs. Howard had little interest with the
King. The Queen persecuted whoever courted her; and Sir R. Walpole
directing all his worship to the uncommonly-powerful wife, Mrs.
Howard naturally became his enemy, and as naturally attached
herself to Lord Bolingbroke; the more intimate connexion of which
intercourse, carelessly concealed by a mistress that was tired, and
eagerly hunted out by a wife still jealous, was unravelled by the
Princess Emily at the Bath, and at last laid open by the cautious
Queen; the King stormed; the mistress was glad he did, left him in
his moods, and married George Berkeley, brother to the late Earl,
by whom she was again left a widow in 1746.

King George the Second has often, when Mrs. Howard, his mistress,
was dressing the Queen, come into the room, and snatched the
handkerchief off, and cried, “Because you have an ugly neck
yourself, you love to hide the Queen’s!” Her Majesty (all the
while calling her “_My good Howard_,”) took great joy in employing
her in the most servile offices about her person. The King was
so communicative to his wife, that one day Mrs. Selwyn, another
of the Bedchamber Women, told him he should be the last man with
whom she would have an intrigue, because he always told the Queen.
Their letters, whenever he was at Hanover, were so long, that he
has complained when she has written to him but nineteen pages;
and in his, at the beginning of his amour with Lady Yarmouth, he
frequently said, “I know you will love the Walmoden, _because
she loves me_.” Old Blackbourn, the Archbishop of York, told her
one day, “That he had been talking to her Minister Walpole about
the new mistress, and was glad to find that her Majesty was so
sensible a woman as to like her husband should divert himself.” Yet
with the affectation of content, it made her most miserable: she
dreaded Lady Yarmouth’s arrival, and repented not having been able
to resist the temptation of driving away Lady Suffolk the first
instant she had an opportunity, though a rival so powerless, and so
little formidable. The King was the most regular man in his hours:
his time of going down to Lady Suffolk’s apartment was seven in the
evening: he would frequently walk up and down the gallery, looking
at his watch, for a quarter of an hour before seven, but would not
go till the clock struck.

The King had another _passager amour_ (between the disgrace of Lady
Suffolk and the arrival of Lady Yarmouth) with the Governess to the
two youngest Princesses; a pretty idiot, with most of the vices of
her own sex, and the additional one of ours, drinking. Yet this
thing of convenience, on the arrival of Lady Yarmouth, put on all
that dignity of passion, which even revolts real inclination.


F. G. H.

(_Vide page 204._)

_Extracts from Letters of Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, during his
Ministry at Berlin._

TO THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.

      Berlin, July 11-22nd, 1750.

.... Count Podewils’s behaviour to me has been hitherto very cold,
and when I meet him at third places, he contents himself with
making me a bow, without speaking to me.

I have made one visit to Monsieur Finkenstein, who is the second
Minister of State for Foreign Affairs. He has very much the air
of a French _petit-maître manqué_, and is extremely affected
in everything he says and does: but from what I have been able
hitherto to learn, his credit with the King of Prussia increases
daily; and that of Count Podewils is not thought to be so good as
it formerly was. The former has lately gained a point over the
latter: Count Podewils’s kinsman, who is at Vienna, was named
to be a Minister of State before Count Finkenstein; but Count
Finkenstein has got into his employment, and when Count Podewils
returns from Vienna, Count Finkenstein will take place of him.
Not that his Prussian Majesty gives entire confidence either to
Podewils or Finkenstein; he reserves that for two persons that
constantly reside with him at Potsdam, and whose names are Heichel
and Fredersdorff; the first of whom is his Prussian Majesty’s
Private Secretary, and who is always kept under the same roof with
his Prussian Majesty, and is so well watched, that a person may be
at this Court seven years without once seeing him. The other, who
is the great favourite, was once a common soldier, and the King
took a fancy to him, while he was yet Prince Royal of Prussia, as
he was standing sentinel at the door of his apartment. This person
has two very odd titles joined together, for he is styled _valet
de chambre_, and _grand tresorier du Roi_. He keeps out of all
people’s sight as much as Heichel.

But there is lately arose another young man, who has undoubtedly a
large share in the King of Prussia’s favours: his name is Sedoo:
he was not long ago his page, then came to be a lieutenant, and
is very lately made a major, and _premier ecuyer de l’ecurie de
Potsdam_, and will undoubtedly soon rise much higher.


_Another Extract._

.... On Thursday, by appointment, I went to Court at eleven
o’clock; the King of Prussia arrived about twelve, and Count
Podewils immediately introduced me into his closet, where I
delivered his Majesty’s letters into the King of Prussia’s hands,
and made the usual compliments to him in the best manner I was
able. To which his Prussian Majesty replied, to the best of my
remembrance, as follows: “I have the truest esteem for the King
of Great Britain’s person, and I set the highest value upon his
friendship. I have at different times received essential proofs
of it; and I desire you would acquaint the King, your master,
that I will never forget them.” His Prussian Majesty afterwards
said something with respect to myself, and then asked me several
questions about indifferent things and persons. He seemed to
express a great deal of esteem for my Lord Chesterfield, and a
great deal of kindness for Mr. Villiers, but did not once mention
Lord Hyndford, or Mr. Legge. I was in the closet with his Majesty
exactly five minutes and a half.

After my audience was over, the King of Prussia came out into that
room where the Foreign Ministers wait for his Prussian Majesty. He
just said one word to Count de la Puebla (the Austrian Minister) as
he came in, and afterwards addressed his discourse to the French,
Swedish, and Danish Ministers; but did not say one word either to
the Russian Minister or myself.


_Extract from another Letter, in Cipher._

      Berlin July, 28, 1750.

.... About four days ago, Mr. Voltaire, the French poet, arrived
at Potsdam from Paris. The King of Prussia had wrote to him about
three months ago to desire him to come to Berlin. Mr. Voltaire
answered his Prussian Majesty, that he should always be glad of
an opportunity of throwing himself at his Majesty’s feet, but at
that time he was not in circumstances to take so long a journey;
upon which the King of Prussia sent him back word, that he would
bear his expenses; but Mr. Voltaire, not caring to trust the King
of Prussia, would not leave Paris till his Prussian Majesty had
sent him a bill of exchange upon a banker in that town for 4000
rix-dollars, and he did not begin the journey till he had actually
received the money. All that I now write your grace was told me by
the Princess Amalie.--(_Author._)

  [The following extracts from the private correspondence of Sir
  Charles Hanbury Williams will further illustrate the remark in
  the text, and show the unfavourable view taken by him of the
  Prussian Court and Frederick the Great.]


_Extract of a Letter from Charles Hanbury Williams, from Berlin,
1750._

.... ’Tis incredible what care this _Pater Patriæ_ takes of his
people. He is so good as to meddle in their family affairs, in
their marriages, in the education of their children, and in the
disposition of their estates. He hates that anybody should marry,
especially an officer, let him be of what degree soever, and
from the moment they take a wife, they are sure of never being
preferred. All children are registered as soon as born, and the
parents are obliged to produce either certificates of their deaths,
or the male children themselves, at the age of fourteen, in order
to be enrolled, and to take the oath of a soldier to the King; and
if this is not done, or the children have escaped, the parents are
answerable for the escape, and are sent to prison.

No man can sell land throughout all the Prussian dominions without
a special licence from the King: and as he does no more give
licences, nobody can now dispose of or alienate his possessions.
If they could, and were to find fools to purchase them, I believe
he would not have ten of his present subjects left in a year’s
time. They have really no liberty left but that of thinking. There
is a general constraint that runs through all sorts of people,
and diffidence is painted in every face. All their ambition and
desire is to be permitted to go to their Country Seats, where they
need not be obliged to converse with any but their own family.
But this leave is not easily obtained, because the father of his
country insists upon their living at Berlin, and making his Capital
flourish. He is never here but from the beginning of December to
the end of January, and during that time, Prussians, Silesians,
and all his most distant subjects, are obliged to come and make a
figure here, and spend all they have been saving for the other ten
months. He hates that any subject of his should be rich or easy;
and if he lives a few years longer, he will have accomplished his
generous design. There are actually but four persons in this great
town that live upon their own means, and they are people that can’t
last long in their present condition.

He (always meaning _Pater Patriæ_) gives very small salaries to all
employments, and this is the cause that he can get no gentleman
to serve him in a Foreign Legation. His Ministers at every Court
are the scum of the earth, and have nothing but the insolence of
their master to support them; and, indeed, the Prussian method
of treating with every Court is such, as I wonder how Sovereign
Princes can bear. Of this, if I had time, I could give you many
provoking instances. His Prussian Majesty’s Ministers at Berlin--I
mean those for Foreign Affairs--make the oddest figure of any in
Europe. They seldom or never see any dispatches that are sent to
the Prussian Ministers at Foreign Courts; and all letters that come
to Berlin from Foreign Courts go directly to the King; so that
Mr. Podewils and Count Finkenstein know no more of what passes in
Europe than what they are informed of by the Gazettes. When any
of us go to them on any business, the surprise they are in easily
betrays their ignorance, and the only answer you ever get is, that
they will lay what you say before their master, and give you an
answer as soon as he shall have signified his pleasure to them.
When you return to their houses for this answer, they tell you the
exact words which the king has directed, and never one word more;
nor are you permitted to argue any point. In short, they act the
part of Ministers without being really so, as much as ever Cibber
did that of Wolsey upon the stage, only not half so well.

The first of them is reputed to be an honest man, but he is nothing
less. He loses that appearance of credit he once had, daily; for
verily I believe he never had real weight enough with his master
to have made an Ensign in his Army, or a Postillion in one of his
Posthouses. His face is the picture of Dullness when she smiles,
and his figure is a mixture of a clown and a _petit-maître_. He is
a little genteeler than Mons. Adrié, who you may remember to have
seen make so great a figure in England.

The other, Count Finkenstein, whom everybody calls Count Fink, is
very like the late Lord Hervey, and yet his face is the ugliest I
ever saw. But when he speaks, his affectation, the motion of his
eyes and shoulders, all his different gestures and grimaces, bring
Lord Hervey very strongly into my mind; and, like that Lord, he is
the Queen’s favourite (I mean the Queen Mother’s); and her Majesty,
whether seriously or otherwise I can’t tell, calls him “_Mon beau
Comte Fink_.” He has parts, and is what, at Berlin, is called
_sçavant_, which is to say, that he has read all the modern French
story books, from _Les Egaremens_ down to the history of _Prince
Cocquetron_.

The person who has certainly the greatest share of the King of
Prussia’s confidence is one Heichel. He is his Private Secretary,
and writes all that the King himself dictates. But this man I never
saw, and people that have lived here seven years have never seen
him. He is kept like a State Prisoner, is in constant waiting, and
never has half an hour to himself in the whole year.


  [Then follows the account of Fredersdorff, to the same purpose,
  and nearly in the same words as in the extracts printed above.]

He (Fredersdorff) is his Secretary for all small affairs for his
Prussian Majesty.--

      Il fait tout par ses mains, et voit tout par ses yeux.

If a Courier is to be dispatched to Versailles, or a Minister to
Vienna, his Prussian Majesty draws, himself, the instructions for
the one, and writes the letters for the other. This, you’ll say,
is great; but if a Dancer at the Opera has disputes with a Singer,
or if one of those performers want a new pair of stockings, a
plume for his helmet, or a finer petticoat, ’tis the same King of
Prussia that sits in judgment on the cause, and that with his own
hand answers the Dancer’s or the Singer’s letter. His Prussian
Majesty laid out 20,000_l._ to build a fine theatre, and his music
and Singers cost him near the same sum every year; yet this same
King, when an opera is performed, wont allow ten pounds per night
to light up the theatre with wax candles; and the smoke that rises
from the bad oil, and the horrid stink that flows from the tallow,
make many of the audience sick, and actually spoil the whole
entertainment. What I have thought about this Prince is very true;
and I believe, after reading what I say about him, you will think
so too. _He is great in great things, and little in little ones._

       *       *       *       *       *

In the summer 1749, three Prussian Officers came, without
previously asking leave, to see a Review of some Austrian troops
in Moravia; upon which the Commanding Officer of those troops,
suspecting they were not come so much out of curiosity to see
the Review, as to debauch some of the soldiers into the King of
Prussia’s service, sent them orders to retire. This being reported
to his Prussian Majesty, he was much offended, and resolved to take
some method to show his resentment, which he did as follows:--Last
summer, an Austrian Captain, being in the Duchy of Mecklenburgh,
met there with an old acquaintance, one Chapeau, who is in great
favour with the King of Prussia. At that time, there was to be a
great Review at Berlin, and as Berlin was in the Austrian’s road in
his return to Vienna, Chapeau invited him to see the Review; but
the Austrian replied, that he would willingly come, but was afraid
of receiving some affront, in return for what had been done to the
Prussian Officers the year before in Moravia; to which Chapeau
replied, that if he would come to Berlin, he would undertake to get
the King of Prussia’s special leave for him to be present at the
Review. Encouraged by this, the Austrian came, and the night before
the Review, Chapeau brought him word that the leave was granted,
and he might come with all safety. He did accordingly come; but
as soon as the King of Prussia had notice of his being there, he
sent an Aide-de-camp to him to tell him to retire that moment,
which he was forced to do, not without much indignation against
Chapeau, who had drawn him into the scrape. The next morning he
went to Chapeau, with an intention to demand satisfaction for the
affront which, through him, he had received. Chapeau said he would
do as he pleased, but first desired him to give him leave to speak
for himself; which he did. Chapeau then told him, that immediately
upon hearing that he had been sent out of the field in that strange
manner, he had rode up to the King, and asked his Majesty whether
he had not given him orders to tell the Austrian Officer that he
might come to the Review with all security? and that the King had
replied, it was very true, he had given such orders; because, if
he had not, the Austrian would hardly have ventured to come to the
Review; and if he had not come there, he (the King) should not have
had an opportunity of revenging the affront that had been offered
to some Officers of his own the year before in Moravia.

       *       *       *       *       *

I must tell you a story of the King of Prussia’s regard for the
law of nations. There was, some time ago, a Minister here from
the Duke of Brunswick, whose name was Hoffman. He was a person of
very good sense, and what we call well-intentioned, (which means
being attached to the interests of the maritime powers and the
House of Austria.) He was, besides, very active and dexterous in
getting intelligence, which he constantly communicated to the
Ministers of England and Austria. This the King of Prussia being
well informed of, wrote a letter with his own hand to the Duke of
Brunswick, to insist (and in case of refusal to threaten) that he
should absolutely disavow Hoffman for his Minister. The Duke, who
is the worthiest Prince upon earth, was so frightened with this
letter, that he complied, though much against his will, with this
haughty and cruel request. The moment the King of Prussia received
this answer, he sent a party of Guards to Hoffman’s house, seized
him, sent him prisoner to Madgeburgh, where he has now been for
above four years chained to a wheel-barrow, and working at the
fortifications of that town! He was very near doing the same by a
Minister of the Margravine of Anspach’s, but that person got timely
notice, and escaped out of Berlin in the morning; and when the
King of Prussia’s Guards came to seize him at night, the bird had
luckily flown.

There is at present here a Minister of the Duke of Brunswick,
the successor of Hoffman, to whom, in his first audience, the
King said, that he advised him to act very differently from his
predecessor, and particularly to take care not to frequent those
Foreign Ministers that he must know were disagreeable to him; for
if he did, he might depend upon it he should deal with him in the
same manner as he had done with Hoffman.

I think Hamlet says in the play, “Denmark is a prison;” the whole
Prussian territory is so in the literal sense of the word. No man
can, or does pretend to go out of it without the knowledge of the
King and his Ministers. Very hard is the fate of those who have
estates in other dominions besides those of his Prussian Majesty;
he will neither permit them to sell their estates in his countries,
nor live upon those they have out of them. The distresses which
are come on the Silesians (who had estates also in Bohemia) are
prodigious. Many people have given them up, or sold them for a
trifle, to get out of this land of Egypt--this house of bondage.
Six hundred dollars make just one hundred guineas, and I know the
King of Prussia thinks that just as much as any of his subjects
ought to have, exclusive of what he may give them. In a very few
years, I am convinced that no subject of his that has not estates
elsewhere will have more left him. But from what he has already
done, he begins to find that it is no longer possible to collect
the heavy taxes which he imposes on his subjects. I know that the
revenues of all his countries, except Silesia, have diminished
every year, for these last five years.

A Prussian will tell you, with a very grave face, that their
present King is the most merciful Prince that ever reigned, and
that he hates shedding blood. This is not true; there are often
as cruel and tormenting executions in this country as ever were
known under any Sicilian tyrant. ’Tis true, they are not done at
Berlin, nor in the face of the world, but at Potsdam, in private.
Since my arrival in this cursed country, an old woman was quartered
alive at Potsdam, for having assisted two soldiers to desert.
But his Prussian Majesty generally punishes offenders with close
imprisonment and very hard labour, keeping them naked in the
coldest weather, and giving them nothing, for years together,
but bread and water. Such mercy is cruelty. Many persons destroy
themselves here out of mere despair; but all imaginable care
is taken to conceal such suicides. I have heard of one of our
Governors in the Indies, who was reproached by his friends, on his
return to England, that he put a great number of persons to death;
to which that humane Governor replied, “It is not true; I only used
them so ill, that they hanged themselves.” * * *


I.

(_Vide page 217._)

      Deux Henris immolés par nos braves ayeux,
      L’un à la liberté, et Bourbon à nos Dieux,
      Te menacent, Louis, d’une pareille entreprise:
      Ils revivent en toi ces anciens tyrans:
      Crains notre désespoir: la noblesse a des Guises,
      Paris des Ravaillacs, le clergé des Cléments.


K.

(_Vide page 225._)

Though poetry was certainly neither a point of their rivalship,
nor of their ambition, it may not be unwelcome to the curious
to compare these great men even in their poetic capacities. The
following sonnet was written by Sir R. Walpole when a very young
man; the elegy, by Lord Bolingbroke, rather past his middle age.
Had they climbed no mountain but Parnassus, it is obvious how far
Lord Bolingbroke would have ascended above his competitor, since,
when turned of fifty, he excelled in the province of youth.


TO THE HELIOTROPE.[257]

A SONG.

      1.

      Hail, pretty emblem of my fate!
      Sweet flower, you still on Phœbus wait;
      On him you look, and with him move,
      By nature led, and constant love.

      2.

      Know, pretty flower, that I am he,
      Who am in all so like to thee;
      I, too, my fair one court, and where
      She moves, my eyes I thither steer.

      3.

      But yet this difference still I find,
      The sun to you is always kind;
      Does always life and warmth bestow:
      --Ah! would my fair one use me so!

      4.

      Ne’er would I wait till she arose
      From her soft bed and sweet repose;
      But leaving thee, dull plant, by night
      I’d meet my Phillis with delight.


TO CLARA.[258]

BY HENRY, VISCOUNT BOLINGBROKE.

      Dear thoughtless Clara, to my verse attend,
      Believe for once the lover and the friend;
      Heav’n to each sex has various gifts assign’d,
      And shown an equal care of human kind.
      Strength does to man’s imperial race belong;
      To yours, that beauty which subdues the strong.
      But as our strength, when misapplied, is lost,
      And what should save, urges our ruin most;
      Just so, when beauty prostituted lies,
      Of b***s the prey, of rakes the abandon’d prize,
      Women no more their empire can maintain,
      Nor hope, vile slaves of lust, by love to reign;
      Superior charms but make their case the worse,
      When what was meant their blessing, proves their curse.
      O nymph! that might, reclin’d on Cupid’s breast,
      Like Psyche, soothe the God of Love to rest;
      Or if ambition move thee, Jove enthral,
      Brandish his thunder, and direct its fall;
      Survey thyself, contemplate ev’ry grace
      Of that sweet form, of that angelic face;
      Then, Clara, say, were those delicious charms
      Meant for lewd brothels and rude ruffians’ arms?
      No, Clara, no; that person and that mind
      Were form’d by nature, and by Heav’n design’d
      For nobler ends; to these return, though late;
      Return to these, and so redress thy fate.
      Think, Clara, think (nor may that thought be vain!)
      Thy slave, thy Harry, doom’d to drag his chain,
      Of love ill treated and abus’d, that he
      From more inglorious chains might rescue thee.
      Thy drooping health restor’d by his fond cares,
      Once more thy beauty its full lustre wears.
      Mov’d by his love, by his example taught,
      Soon shall thy soul, once more with virtue fraught,
      With kind and generous truth thy bosom warm,
      And thy fair mind, like thy fair person, charm.
        To virtue thus and to thyself restor’d,
      By all admir’d, by one alone ador’d,
      Be to thy Harry ever kind and true,
      And live for him who more than died for you.


(_Vide page 356._)

The reader will find a very ludicrous anecdote relating to Mr.
Nugent, during his election at Bristol, in a letter from our Author
to Richard Bentley, Esq., dated July 9th, 1754. It is printed in
the publication of his correspondence with that gentleman, but we
do not venture to insert it here.


END OF VOL. I.


T. C. Savill, Printer, 4, Chandos-street, Covent-Garden.


FOOTNOTES:

[252] The Princess.

[253] Allen, Lord Bathurst.

[254] Sir George Lyttelton, who was out of favour with the Prince,
made a parody on this copy of verses: two of the lines were,

      No--’tis that all-consenting tongue,
      That never puts me in the wrong.


[255] “This is a strange country, this England” (said his Royal
Highness once); “I am told Doddington is reckoned a clever man; yet
I got 5000_l._ out of him this morning, and he has no chance of
ever seeing it again.”

[256] His house is since called Brandenburgh House.

[257] I found this song in an old pocket-book belonging to my
father, who wrote it, as he told me himself, when he was a very
young man, on a sister of Sir William Carew.

[258] This was written on a common woman whom Lord Bolingbroke took
into keeping, and who, many years afterwards, sold oranges in the
Court of Requests.




  TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

  Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
  corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
  the text and consultation of external sources.

  Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text,
  and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. For example,
  Nova-Scotia, Nova Scotia; goodnature, good-nature; Lord-Lieutenant,
  Lord Lieutenant; se’nnight; disculpate; unapt; deficience; altercate;
  preponderated.

  Pg xix: ‘acknowleged to have’ replaced by ‘acknowledged to have’.
  Pg 22: ‘he committed to’ replaced by ‘he was committed to’.
  Pg 25: ‘John Burnard--Factions’ replaced by ‘John Barnard--Factions’.
  Pg 37: ‘election at Weobly’ replaced by ‘election at Weobley’.
  Pg 68: ‘19.--The’ replaced by ‘19th.--The’.
  Pg 85: ‘3.--Palmer’ replaced by ‘3rd.--Palmer’.
  Pg 95: ‘to wordly success’ replaced by ‘to worldly success’.
  Pg 153: ‘worthy grammarians’ replaced by ‘worthy of grammarians’.
  Pg 190: ‘Holdernesse--Murray’ replaced by ‘Holderness--Murray’.
  Pg 204: ‘upon the recal’ replaced by ‘upon the recall’.
  Pg 256: ‘consume the propriety’ replaced by ‘consume the property’.
  Pg 280: ‘revenge offerred’ replaced by ‘revenge offered’.
  Pg 345: ‘2.--A ’ replaced by ‘2d.--A ’.
  Pg 383: ‘fidler, Nero’ replaced by ‘fiddler, Nero’.
  Pg 394: ‘the Mississipi’ replaced by ‘the Mississippi’.
  Pg 400: ‘as Aid-de-camp’ replaced by ‘as Aide-de-camp’.
  Pg 414: ‘all the coolurs’ replaced by ‘all the colours’.
  Pg 445: ‘being confidente of’ replaced by ‘being confidante of’.

  Footnote [21]: ‘and and in 1745’ replaced by ‘and in 1745’.
  Footnote [30]: ‘Stafford in 1706’ replaced by ‘Stafford in 1786’.
  Footnote [48]: ‘been prefered to’ replaced by ‘been preferred to’.
  Footnote [98]: ‘been Aid-de-camp’ replaced by ‘been Aide-de-camp’.






End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Memoirs of the Reign of King George
the Second, Volume 1 (of 3), by Horace Walpole

*** 