CHAPTER V.

Bold Address of Beckford to the King.—His Death and Character.—Prosecutions of Almon and Woodfall.—Voyage of the Princess Dowager of Wales to Germany.—Eccentric Conduct of the Queen of Denmark.—Suit of Lord Grosvenor against the Duke of Cumberland.—Trial of the Kennedys for Murder.—Conduct of Mr. Horne.—Licence of the Press.—Instances.—Libel on the King of Spain.—Dispute with Spain concerning the Falkland Islands.—Building of the Adelphi.—Its Political Consequences.—Promotion of Lutterell.—Death of Lord Granby.—His Character.—Vacant Regiment bestowed on Conway.—Meeting of the Inhabitants of Westminster.—Imminence of a War.—Diplomacy of Lord Weymouth.—Lord Mansfield meditates Resigning the Speakership of the House of Lords.—Death of Mr. George Grenville.—His Character.

1770.

The King had scarce time to enjoy the favourable conclusion of the session, before a new attack was made on him. A remonstrance had been sent from Newcastle, and, on May the 23rd, the second remonstrance from the City of London was presented by the Lord Mayor and Common Council. It had been drawn up by Lord Chatham, or formed on one of his late speeches. The King made a shortand firm answer, referring to his former. He had no sooner spoken it, than, to the astonishment of the whole Court, Beckford, the Lord Mayor, desired leave to say a few words. This was totally unprecedented. Copies of all intended harangues to the Sovereign are first transmitted privately to Court, that the King may be prepared with his answer. On this occasion, the King was totally at a loss how to act. He was sitting in ceremony on his throne, and had no means of consult, no time to consider what to do. Remaining silent and confounded, Beckford proceeded, with great expressions of loyalty, and of assurances of the respect and attachment borne to his Majesty by the citizens, and he besought his Sovereign not to listen to secret and malevolent insinuations against them, and humbly solicited some favourable syllable of reply. The King, however, made none, but suffered them to kiss his hand, notwithstanding the murmurs of the courtiers who surrounded him, and who were scandalized at the innovation.

The citizens assembling three days afterwards to consider of an address on the birth of a young Princess, the Aldermen Harley and Rossiter loudly censured the Lord Mayor for his novel address to the King, uncommissioned by the City. It might prevent his Majesty, they urged, from receiving their addresses in the same state with which he receivedthose from Parliament and the Universities,—a distinction granted to no other corporation but to the City of London; and might occasion a greater inconvenience, for, as the maxim declares the King can do no wrong, should a king on any similar occasion answer improperly, it could not be imputed to his Ministers. Beckford appealed to the Common Council, who applauded his behaviour. Wilkes, who had displeased his party by not attending the remonstrance to St. James’s, and who had been reproached as gained by the Court, pleaded that he had not gone thither lest his presence should give occasion to another massacre. He objected to pay much compliment to the King on the birth of his daughter, at a time when his Majesty would lend no ear to the complaints of the City. To the Queen, Wilkes said he had no objection to their saying what they pleased. On the 30th, the address was carried; but at Temple Bar the gates were shut against the Aldermen by the people, who concurred with Beckford and Wilkes in resenting the King’s behaviour, and Harley was dragged out of his chariot and escaped with difficulty: but by order of the Lord Mayor the gates were opened, and they proceeded to St. James’s, where, before their admission to the King, the Lord Chamberlain notified to Beckford that his late behaviour having been unprecedented, his Majesty desired no suchthing might happen again: to which Beckford, bowing, replied, “To be sure not.” They were then admitted to the presence; and though the address was colder than usual, the King told them that while their addresses were so loyal, the City should be sure of his protection.

This was the last public incident in the life of William Beckford, Lord Mayor of London, he dying three weeks afterwards of a violent fever, contracted, as supposed, from the agitation into which his violence had thrown his blood, and from sudden cold caught in the country, whither he had retired for a little repose. He died on the 21st of June, aged sixty-two. He had boldness, promptness, spirit, a heap of confused knowledge, displayed with the usual ostentation of his temper, and so uncorrected by judgment, that his absurdities were made but more conspicuous by his vanity. Under a jovial style of good humour, he was tyrannic in Jamaica his native country, and under an appearance of prodigality, interested. On the other side, the excesses of his factious behaviour were founded neither on principle nor on rancour. Vain glory seemed to be the real motive of all his actions.100His death was one of the heaviest blows Lord Chatham could receive, cutting off all his influence in the City; and it was another cause of the Opposition’s ensuing humiliation, the turbulence of Beckford, his imposing noise, and his great wealth, concurring to his authority. His successors in the party were utterly contemptible, except Trecothick, who was a decent man. This last was chosen Mayor for the rest of the year. A statue was voted to Beckford’s memory, and ordered to be placed in Guildhall, with the words he had ventured to speak to the King engraven on the pedestal,—so strong was the party as yet in the City. Lord Chatham, the day before Beckford’s death, forced himself into his house, and got away all the letters he had written to that demagogue.

The celebrated Junius alone kept up the flame of opposition with any show of parts; but having at this time satirized the King, even for his private virtues, it did but throw discredit on the author. Almon, the printer, was now tried for selling Junius’s former Address to his Majesty; and though he pleaded that the copies had been left at his shop and sold by his servant without his knowledge, the judge told the jury that a master was answerablefor his servant; and they found Almon guilty.101This man was reckoned to have made a fortune of 10,000l.by publishing and selling libels. Woodfall, the original publisher of Junius’s Address, escaped better, being foundguilty of printing and publishing only, though Lord Mansfield, who hadlikewise tried Almon, endeavoured by the most arbitrary constructions to mislead the jury, telling them that they had nothing to do with theintention, nor with the other words in the indictment, asmalicious,seditious, &c., which he affirmed were only words of course; and which yet would have fallen heavily on the accused, had the jury paid regard to such abominable doctrine. The despotic and Jesuitic Judge went farther: he said, the business of the jury was to consider whether the blanks were properly filled up; as to the contents of the paper, whether true or false, they were totally immaterial—no wonder juries were favourable to libellers, when the option lay between encouraging abuse, and torturing law to severe tyranny! It did the jury honour that they preferred liberty to the voice of the inquisitor. Not content with open violations of justice, he carried the jurors home with him—though without effect.102Nor was his management of the two trials less wicked. He had selected Almon for the first sacrifice, though only a second publisher, before Woodfall, the original editor, becauseWoodfall being an inhabitant of the City of London, the Chief Justice had little hope of influencing a Middlesex jury: but Almon residing in Westminster, was more likely to be convicted: in which case it would be more difficult for the jury to absolve the original publisher, when even his copyist had been condemned—a shameful wile, for which the Attorney-General could not help making an apology! Almon tried to obtain a revision of his sentence, but Lord Mansfield put it off, till he should see the event of Woodfall’s trial. When the latter’s sentence was pronounced, this second Jefferies insisted that the jury should swear they thought him guilty ofpublishing only,—an inquisition unprecedented, unheard of! To impose new oaths on a jury! and after sentence! and after they had been dissolved! What criminal could be more heinously guilty than such a judge? Miller and Baldwin, two other printers, were brought in not guilty for the very same crime for which Almon was condemned—probably from the indignation conceived at Lord Mansfield’s illegal conduct.

Lord Holland now returned to England in a weak state, which he affected to represent as more deplorable than it was, confining himself to his house, from which he stirred no more. The embassy of the Comte du Châtelet being expired, he returned home, and was replaced by the Comte deGuines,103a man of less abilities, but very grateful to this country from the decency and fairness of his behaviour.

Another journey excited uncommon curiosity. The Princess Dowager of Wales, after an uninterrupted residence of thirty-four years in this country, and after having secluded herself in a manner from the world during the last nine years, set out for Germany, under pretence of visiting her brother, the Duke of Saxe Gotha, and her daughters, the Queen of Denmark, and the Princess of Brunswick. As mystery and policy were imputed to all her actions, her declarations were not believed, merely becauseshemade them. The people concluded she went to meet Lord Bute; others expected that some stroke would be struck during her absence to which she might plead not having been privy. As she carried the Duke of Gloucester with her, some believed that it was a trial to break his connection with Lady Waldegrave: some that she was displeased at the increasing power of the Queen: and a few, though perhaps not the worst guessers, that she went to secure her wealth in Germany. That the Princess of Brunswick was included in the motives of that journey is most probable. It was settled that the Princess and her husband, the hereditary Prince, should come to England the next year; and it is as certain that the Queen prevailed on the King to forbid their coming. The Princess of Wales, who had so cordially hated both her daughter and son-in-law, had taken much affection to them, not only from the court they paid to her, but from the use she found in her daughter. The Princess Dowager having lost much of her influence over the King, was often refused favours that she asked of him. This her haughty spirit could not brook. Princess Augusta had no such reserve. Her intimacy coeval with the King had given her entire familiarity with him! and she would take no denials: her mother employed her in teazing the King till he granted whatever she asked. The ease and gaiety of thePrincess Dowager during her residence abroad, showed how much share her unpopularity, fear, and sullen pride had in her recluse system,—fear, not without cause: as she passed through Canterbury she was hissed and insulted—yet at Dover she met with no affronts; nor were there any illuminations or bonfires in London for joy of her departure, as had been expected. She had a slight interview with her daughter of Denmark, an extraordinary Princess! Christian the Seventh had conceived an instantaneous aversion to her on their marriage; and had even disgraced his favourite cousin, the Prince of Hesse, for taking her part. While her husband was in England, the Russian Minister treated her disrespectfully; but though the Czarina governed the Danish King, the Queen with proper spirit commanded the insolent foreigner to quit the kingdom. Her resolution continued after her husband’s return; and at last gained the ascendant. Bernsdorffe, Prime Minister and creature of Russia, was disgraced; so was young Holke, the King’s favourite. Thus far her Majesty acted with reputation; but when the public beheld the King’s physician engross all favour, and when that physician seemed equally dear to both King and Queen, the wildest conjectures were let loose. Certain it is that the Queen showed a lofty spirit as well as singular manners. She was grown to an enormous fatness; yet whenshe met her mother on the frontiers, she was accoutred in a man’s habit with breeches of buckskin: and when the Princess of Wales lamented the disgrace of Bernsdorffe, the ancient Minister of the family, the Queen of Denmark said abruptly, “Pray, Madam, let me govern my own kingdom as I please.”

During the absence of her Royal Highness was decided, against her youngest son the Duke of Cumberland, the suit for adultery with a young woman of quality, whom a good person, moderate beauty, no understanding, and excessive vanity had rendered too accessible to the attentions of a Prince of the Blood. Their letters were produced at the trial, and never was the public regaled with a collection of greater folly! Yet to the lady’s honour be it said, that, bating a few oaths, which sounded more masculine than tender, the advantage in grammar, spelling, and style was all in her favour. His Royal Highness’s diction and learning scarce exceeded that of a cabin-boy, as those eloquent epistles, existing in print, may testify. Some being penned on board of ship were literal verification of Lord Dorset’sballad,—

“To you, fair ladies, now at landWe men at sea do write;But first would have you understandHowhard’tis to indite.”

Grievous censure fell on his governor and preceptor,Mr. Legrand and Mr. Charles, and not less on the Princess herself, so totally had his education been neglected. He had been locked up with his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, till the age of twenty-one, and thence had sallied into a life of brothels and drunkenness, whence the decency of the elder, and his early connection with Lady Waldegrave, preserved the Duke of Gloucester. The younger was pert, insolent, senseless, and not unwillingly brutal. So little care taken of a Prince of the Blood did but confirm the opinion of the public, that the plan of the Princess, Lord Bute, and the King had been to keep down and discredit the King’s brothers as much as possible. The Duke of Cumberland, at least, did not disappoint the scheme, as will hereafter appear. As a dozen years afterwards it was evident that no greater care, though with still more rigorous confinement, had been taken of the morals and style of the Prince of Wales, who issued from that palace of supposed purity, the Queen’s house, as if he had been educated in a night-cellar, it gave but too much ground for suspecting that, undeterred by what had happened to his brother, the jealousy of his heir had not been less predominant in the King than it had been in the neglect of his brothers.

Other trials of note there were at that time. Lord Chatham lost a cause against one of SirWilliam Pynsent’s relations to the value of 15,000l, a sum he could ill spare after his ungovernable waste, and which but sharpened his appetite for recovery of power.

A criminal trial made more noise. Two Kennedys, young Irishmen, had been charged with, and one of them had been condemned for, the murder of a watchman in a drunken riot. They had a handsome sister, who was kept by two young men of quality. Out of friendship to them, Mr. George Selwyn had prevailed on six or seven of the jury to make an affidavit that, if some circumstances, which had really been neglected by the counsel for the prisoners, had appeared on the trial, they would not have brought in their verdict murder. Mr. Selwyn applied for mercy, and the young convict was reprieved; but when the report was made in Council, Lord Mansfield prevailed to have him ordered for execution. Mr. Selwyn, whose constant flow of exquisite wit made him generally acceptable, applied in person to the King, and represented that Lord Rochford, the Secretary of State, had under his hand assured the pardon; that such an act had always been deemed pardon, and that the prisoner had been made acquainted with it. The King immediately renewed his promise, the criminal was ordered for transportation, and was actually on board the vessel bound for theplantations, when Horne, the clergyman, and other discontented persons complained of the pardon, and not only complained of it to blacken the King, but, horrible spirit of faction! instigated the watchman’s widow to appeal against it, which, if sentence should again follow, would bar all pardon; nor could the King do more than reprieve from time to time. The woman did prosecute; and the young man was again remanded to his gaol and terrors, a second punishment, unjustly inflicted; for, though probably guilty, he had satisfied the law. Nothing, however, being more difficult than to effectuate such appeal, errors were continually found, the prisoner was remanded to prison as often as brought to trial, and the widow at last yielded to a compensation,104notwithstanding the unwearied endeavours of the merciless priest. That turbulent divine was soon afterwards found guilty himself of defaming Mr. Onslow, and fined 500l.He was one of the principal incendiaries and promoter of all libels, and, in truth, their excess was shocking, and in nothing more condemnable than in the dangers they brought on the liberty of the press, which it was difficult for its warmest friend todefend. It was in every man’s mouth, that the evil was grown past sufferance. Every man trembled, expecting, what almost every man experienced, abuse. The good name, the credit, the character of all were at the mercy of anonymous malice and a mercenary printer. The universal language, that abuse was too general to be regarded, was not an adequate answer. Abuse spreads further than vindication, nor does it even die by neglect; it takes root in the country and makes lasting impressions. Two answers, indeed, there were; first, the difficulty of drawing the line. Ministers are and ought to be lawful game, yet the law could not except them as proper to be abused. The other was the spirit of the Court, which aimed at despotism, and the daring attempts of Lord Mansfield to stifle the liberty of the press, without authority of the law, and without any new restrictions made by the legislature. He had, indeed, effected an aggravation of the excess, for his innovations had given such an alarm, that scarce a jury would find the rankest satire libellous; and that indemnity encouraged the printers to go to the most envenomed and unwarrantable lengths, of which, to prove my impartiality, I will quote some flagrant examples. I have mentioned the embittered licentiousness of Junius, particularly on the Dukes of Bedford and Grafton, reproached with misfortunesin their families. Another paper, containing severe reflections on the latter Duke, was published, affecting to be written by the Duke of Richmond. A second paper, attributed, in like manner, to the Duke of Grafton, threatened to kick the Duke of Richmond,—infamous, though unsuccessful attempts to excite a duel between those adverse lords!

The other instance, of a blacker, because of a more extensive dye, as it might have proved, was at least distinguished by the novelty and singularity of its humour. It was a very ludicrous and ironic satire on the King of Spain, though many of the facts were borrowed or by mistake adapted to him from his mad brother, the late King Ferdinand.105A second letter was promised on the King of France; but three French officers went to the printer and stopped it, by vowing they would murder him, if any invective against their master should appear. Some Spaniards were disposed to execute what the French had threatened, but were with difficulty prevented by their Ambassador, the Prince of Masserano, who told them they would infallibly be hanged. They said they could not die in a better cause. That Prince was inexpressibly hurt, and told our Ministers he didnot know how to write the account to his Court; he wished the insult might not cause a war. This attempt was the more flagitious, by being calculated to blow into a flame a quarrel of a serious nature then in agitation between the two Courts. Despairing faction grounded its last hopes on blood and a rupture between the two nations.

In the account of Lord Anson’s voyage round the world, there is dropped a hint that a settlement in the South Sea would be of great advantage to England in time of war. Lord Egmont, when at the head of the Admiralty, had adopted that idea, and caused possession to be taken for us of one of the Falkland Islands, a desolate rock near the straits of Magellan. According to the received code of European usurpation, prior occupancy or discovery implies right. To have taken nominal possession of another country, not before known to any of us invaders, constitutes property among Christian potentates, or robbers, and by that piratic jurisprudence, the Falkland Islands belonged to, though abandoned by, Spain. Our breach of this iniquitous seniority of claim was highly resented by the King of Spain, personally a hater of England ever since he had trembled before our navies, when only King of Naples, and had been humbled in the last war. The Governor of Buenos Ayres, within whose district lay the desert in question,was ordered (underhand) to dispossess us, and did. That intention had been known to our Administration some months before the Duke of Grafton quitted the reins; but, according to his custom, he had neglected the notice, or, with equal indifference, had intended to slubber over the quarrel in tame conferences with the Spanish ambassador here; and there the affair had dozed, till the “Favourite” sloop, arriving in the month of June, brought advice that our colony had been expelled from the island, and, by rousing the nation, awakened the Administration. Whether we had been the aggressors or not, was not a consideration to have weight with the people, much less with Opposition. Nothing was in the mouths of either but the insult; and whatever the Ministers thought, or whatever they proposed to bear, it was not openly that they dared to talk any language but war, or at least resentment. Orders were given to fit out fleets and to impress men, and a messenger set off for Madrid to demand immediate restitution of the island. The answer was very indefinite, and too unsatisfactory to bear publication. A categoric answer was then said to be demanded, but no such answer arrived. France talked peace; her finances were greatly in disorder; we trusted to their language or their situation; Spain behaved as depending on their support, or as resolved toextort it; but I must not too much anticipate events. A fire in the magazines at Portsmouth, to a considerable amount, and the authors of which were not discovered, was imputed rather to our friends the French than to Spain our enemy, and looked like a return for a discovery the former had made of some such design from hence. A young Irish officer of some birth, Gordon by name, who had fled for a duel, had been beheaded at Brest, and had been proved to have been in the pay of our Ambassador, Lord Harcourt.

Wilkes still kept up a flame: he was chosen Master of the Joiner’s Company, procured a remonstrance from the county of Surrey, and Richard Oliver, an unknown young citizen, but a member of the Bill of Rights, was chosen unanimously to represent the City of London in the room of Beckford. Eyre, the Recorder, an able man and spirited, offended the City by refusing to attend their remonstrance, which he affirmed was a libel. All the prejudice they could do to him was to refuse to consult him on points of law, by which he lost about 200l.a year.106They had a longer contest with theAdams, Scottish brethren and architects, who had bought Durham Yard, and erected a large pile of building with dwellings and warehouses, under the affected name of the Adelphi. These men, of great taste in their profession, were attached particularly to Lord Bute and Lord Mansfield, and thus by public and private nationality, zealous politicians. The citizens, on whose rights over the river they had encroached, went to law with them, and applied to Parliament, where Court partiality on one side, and party malice on the other, considered nothing but their several prejudices: the influence of the Crown decided, accordingly, in favour of the Adams. But the circumstance which makes that contest history, was, its giving date to a new subdivision of factions. Debates for and against the Adams had run very high amongst the Aldermen and Common Council. Their speeches, or rather their personal abuse, were printed in the public parades with the parade of Parliamentary orations. Alderman Harley said, he rejoiced at any disgrace that fell on the City; and that the Aldermen had been very indulgent to suffer Wilkes to stand candidate for the City when he was outlawed. Wilkes with equal modesty replied, that in so doing they had acted very illegally. But the person who took the lead in those wrangles was Alderman Townshend, the agent of Lord Shelburne, who, it now came out,was tampering to wrest the City out of Wilkes’s hands. He had even gained over Parson Horne, the publisher of those vulgar debates; and who, to serve his new friends, constantly gave the advantage to Townshend over Wilkes,—sources of a quarrel that blazed much higher afterwards, and ruined the Opposition in the City.

The Court, as if to balance the advantages they reaped by the feuds in the Opposition, gave a new handle to clamour by raising their desperate tool, Colonel Lutterell, to be Adjutant-General in Ireland, obliging Colonel Cunningham, who had distinguished himself by restoring the discipline and model of the Irish army, to exchange that post for a government which they forced from Colonel Gisburne for a large pension, and the promise of the next good government. Cunningham abandoned them the next year in their distress. The gratitude of the Lutterells was of another kind, and will have its place.107The Middlesex election was still the favourite grievance. A meeting of the freeholders of Yorkshire was advertized, in order to remonstrate, for the 26th of August, but the High Sheriff refused to summon the county; on which Lord John Cavendish and twenty-seven more, advertized a meeting for the 25th of September. When that day arrived, Charles Turner proposed a new remonstrance; but to the surprise ofthe most zealous, Sir George Saville talked with much moderation; and Lord John occasioned greater astonishment by advising the assembly to expect, by decency, redress from the King. The assembly, not knowing how to decipher that change of language, broke up perplexed, and content with thanking their representatives, Sir George Saville and Lascelles.

The key to this mystery, never publicly divulged, was, that Lord Mansfield had opened a negotiation with Lord Rockingham, whose aunt he had married, and the Court had offered to make sacrifices of two or three of its most specious friends: but as the Marquis, who had come to town on purpose to conclude the bargain, found it by no means intended to reinstate him in the first place, the treaty broke off, after the leaders had shown how ready both sides were to give up their second-rate friends.

While discord and interest thus tore in pieces the Opposition, fate was preparing to deprive them of their most important centurians. Beckford was already gone. The next was the Marquis of Granby, the idol of the army and of the populace. He died at Scarborough, October 20th: in so few months did Lord Chatham lose his tribune and his General, and was reduced to his ill-content friend, Chancellor Camden, his ill-connected brother, Lord Temple, and his worse-reconciled brother, Mr. Grenville!

Were there any reality in the idea that noble blood diffuses an air of superior excellence over the outward form, and refines the qualities of the mind; and were that idea not refuted by the majority of examples to the contrary, Lord Granby would have appeared a shining instance of both effects. His large and open countenance, its manly and pure colours glowing with health, his robust and commanding person, and a proportion of florid beauty so great, that the baldness of his head, which he carried totally bare, was rather an addition to its comely roundness than a defect, and a singularity more than an affectation,—all distinguished him without any extrinsic ornament, and pointed out his rank when he walked without attendance, and was mixed with the lowest people, who followed him to beg his charity, or to bless him for it. His mind was as rich in the qualities that became his elevated situation. Intrepidity, sincerity, humanity, and generosity, were not only innate in his breast, but were never corrupted there. His courage and his tenderness were never disunited. He was dauntless on every occasion, but when it was necessary to surmount his bashfulness. His nerves trembled like a woman’s, when it was requisite that he should speak in public. His modesty was incapable of ostentation.108His rank, his services, and the idolatryof the people could inspire him with no pride,—a sensation his nature knew not. Of money he seemed to conceive no use but in giving it away: but that profusion was so indiscriminate, that compassion or solicitation, and consequently imposture, were equally the masters of his purse. Thus his benevolence checked itself, and wasted on unworthy objects the sums he often wanted to bestow on real distress.109Nor was it less fatal to his own honour, but plunged him in difficulties from which some discretion in his bounty would have secured him. As his understanding was by no means proportioned to his virtues, he was always obnoxious to the interested designs of those who governed him; and between his own want of judgment and the ascendant of those who hampered him in their toils, bysupplying his necessities with money at exorbitant interest, he was bought and sold by successive Administrations and different parties; and generally, when the former fell, he abandoned those he had attached himself and been obliged to, and lent himself to measures which his principles disapproved, and then reverted to those principles against his inclination. No man meant to feel more patriotism, or to be more warmly attached to the constitution of his country; yet his unsuspicious nature suffered him to be easily made the tool of its enemies; and when he sacrificed his darling command of the army in a convulsion of integrity, he neither acted with grace nor firmness, nor showed a knowledge of the question for which he devoted himself, nor made the stand so soon as he ought to have done; and, what was worse, he was forced upon the step he took unwillingly by a man110who had not the reputation of common honesty, or pretended to be actuated by any principle but self-interest and revenge.

In an age more simple, Lord Granby had been a perfect hero. In a rude age he would probably have been a successful general from his own valour, and the enthusiasm of attachment which his soldiers felt for him; but in times wherein military knowledge is so much improved, it was perhaps fortunatefor his country that the sole command was never entrusted to him on any capital emergency. Yet they must have been the many solid virtues which he possessed, that could make him so greatly respected in a corrupt age, when talents are more esteemed than merit, or when hypocrisy alone runs away with the character and rewards of virtue.

His domestic qualities were all of the amiable kind. His only remarkable vice proved fatal to him: his constant excesses in wine inflamed his sanguine complexion, hurrying him out of the world at forty-nine!

The regiment of Blue Guards, vacant by Lord Granby’s death, was immediately given to General Conway. Lord Holland, when acting Minister in the House of Commons, had carried a positive promise of that regiment, on the first vacancy, to the Duke of Richmond. The Duke, who did not expect that engagement would be kept to him, now in earnest opposition, wrote an artfully handsome letter to the King to release him from that promise; but his Majesty had violated it before he received the Duke’s dispensation, and made no answer.111The Duke was not less hurt at Conway’saccepting the place, knowing it had been promised to his Grace. Conway pleaded having had no notion that the Duke thought of it, now he was so fixed in opposition. The Duke owned he had not expected it; but asked Conway a distressing question,—whether he had had more friendship for Lord Granby, for whose sake he would not accept the Ordnance, which Lord Granby had resigned, than for him, who was his son-in-law and intimate friend; yet Lord Granby had resigned it, which made a difference—and Conway, who was fonder of applause than money, thought it would be popular to refuse Lord Granby’s spoils. The King was probably not sorry to occasion a jealousy between the Duke and Conway; but I reconciled them. The Duke for years resented the King’s breach of his word; and though he paid his duty to the Queen, he constantly left the drawing-room without approaching the King. The fluctuation of parties in 1783 and 1784 brought them together again; but though the Duke grew a zealous courtier, contrary to his many warm declarations,the King, who had given the offence, was not so cordially reconciled; and though he always embraced an enemy to expose him, his alacrity was as great in sacrificing him on the first opportunity.

On the 27th of October, the Princess of Wales and the Duke of Gloucester returned from Germany. They travelled all night and arrived very early in London, to prevent her Royal Highness receiving any insults from the populace.

The preparatives for war and the want of men occasioned orders being given for pressing. Wilkes, as the patron of liberty, declared against that practice as illegal; and, as sitting Alderman, dismissed a man who had been impressed within the liberties of the City. Sawbridge did the like; yet the latter was by no means attached to Wilkes, nor led by him. The strictness of Sawbridge’s principles and the insinuations of his comrade Townshend, had made him look with aversion on the profligacy of Wilkes. They publicly disagreed at a numerous and tumultuous meeting of the lowest inhabitants of Westminster, assembled by invitation in the Hall, where Wilkes read a Paper to them calculated to promote an impeachment of Lord North for the neglect of the Falkland Islands, for advising the measures taken on the Middlesex election, and for the contempt into which the nation was fallen with foreign countries. The paper recommended toadvise his Majesty to remove all his Ministers, particularly Lord Mansfield, and to admit no Scot into Administration. It proposed laws for empowering electors to choose any man without regard to any sentence passed on him for any crime whatsoever; and for prohibiting general warrants being issued, even for recruiting the army and navy; and other laws to allow an additional witness to be brought to convict a man, though acquitted by a jury or pardoned by a Court! The extravagant injustice and folly of the two last propositions, and the latitude and impracticability of the rest, wore evident marks of absurdity and despair: and the three first heads could by no means be applicable to Lord North, the two first having happened in the Duke of Grafton’s Administration; and the contempt conceived for us by foreigners being the result of Lord Bute’s peace, of the distracted and fluctuating counsels of the Court, and of repeated changes of contradictory Administrations. One More then called out, desiring to have the paper read again, most of the audience, he said, not having heard distinctly the particulars, and being averse to vote for what they had not heard. Having a loud voice, More himself was desired to read the paper, which he did, and disputed with Wilkes on many articles of it. Sawbridge, too, opposed the insertion of the contents into a memorial, becausein so venal a Parliament Lord North would be sure of an acquittal, which would only do him service (and in truth it was evident that Lord North was only attacked as Minister for the time being). Sawbridge therefore proposed another remonstrance to the King, which was agreed, and was confined almost to the Middlesex election. It was signed by Wilkes as chairman of the assembly, and presented to the King on the 7th of November by Sir Robert Bernard, who would not kneel when he delivered it. Wilkes published an enthusiastic account of the above meeting, professing he believed that the voice of the people was the voice of God.

This unprosperous state of the Opposition was very favourable to the Ministry, especially to Lord North, who wished to avoid a war with Spain; nor was the unprejudiced part of the nation at all eager for war. The Rockingham party called for it to embarrass the Government, and the patriots in the City meant to clog the operations of it. In this situation no answer being arrived from Spain, and the Session of Parliament being ready to open, it seemed extraordinary that Lord North, possessed of so much power, did not put off the meeting, which was fixed for the 13th of November, as it was possible a definitive answer might arrive on the 10th, and leave but three days to determine onpeace or war.112Lord North said he had two speeches ready for the King, either a martial or a pacific one—but was that a justification? or indeed was it prudent to leave so little time for option? The fact, I believe, was, that he was duped both at home and abroad. Francés, the FrenchChargé-d’affaires, persuaded him that the Duc de Choiseul was intensely bent on preserving peace—a point on which I shall say more hereafter. On the other hand, the most mysterious, and indeed suspicious, conduct was held by Lord Weymouth and his governor Wood, who communicated as little as possible of the negotiation to Lord North. This conduct requires both a detail and a comment.

Not only to Lord North was Lord Weymouth reserved and incommunicative; not only to Francés would he give no opening; but to Robert Walpole, Secretary to the Embassy at Paris (whence Lord Harcourt was absent), his dispatches were so mysterious and inexplicit, that Thomas Walpole advised his brother to send them back, or come away. Every letter began with directions not to admit the French asmediators, but only as friends. Thiswas proper; but the caution was so great and the repetitions so frequent, that it looked more like fear of the letters being called for by Parliament, than dignity inspired by national honour. It was understood so little in the latter light by the Duc de Choiseul, that he said to Thomas Walpole, then at Paris, “Milord Weymouth ne parle point, et Milord Rochfort parle trop.” The latter was a weak man, zealous against France, and obnoxious to Choiseul, who, made impatient by Lord Weymouth’s dilatory darkness, and apprised of Lord North’s pacific disposition, said at last to Robert Walpole, “Votre Ministère ne veut pas faire la guerre, et ne sait pas faire la paix.” Wood came under bad suspicions, and, I believe, very deservedly, on this enigmatic conduct, to which many motives concurred. His ideas were by no means ready, though in writing he had the art of elucidating them beautifully. He was full of guile, dark, and interested. His patrons, Lord Weymouth and Lord Gower, were impatient to overturn Lord North, and share or scramble for his power; and Wood, though willing to promote their views, had certainly a farther view of his own. He was impressed with a notion that war with Spain was unavoidable; and concluded that his ancient master, Lord Chatham, would be called out by the nation to manage that war—at least, on the first check given to our arms.This he inadvertently dropped; and the irregularities of Lord Weymouth’s subsequent conduct confirmed the opinion that Wood was not unwilling to purchase his pardon of Lord Chatham, by the sacrifice of Lord North, and by the treachery of Lord Weymouth. Nor was this the most culpable part of Wood’s conduct. Francés, who trafficked deeply in our stocks, as they fluctuated during the vicissitudes of the negotiation, discovered Wood in the same path, and playing with the transactions as it suited his moneyed views. This Francés communicated to many, and, I believe, to Lord North, of whose honour he spoke highly, and vaunting that he himself could conclude the peace in a day’s time, if not traversed by Wood; for whatever were Choiseul’s views, Francés acted with seeming passion for pushing on the negotiation. France was, indeed, ill prepared for war. The very war which Choiseul had conjured up between Russia and Constantinople had fallen heavily on the French trade to the Levant, where the Russians had obtained a signal naval victory, to the demolition of the Turkish fleet, and where they paid little regard to the merchantmen of France.

In this suspense, the courier not being returned from Spain, the Parliament met; but first must be mentioned two memorable events.

About four days before the opening of the Houses,Lord Mansfield, Speaker of the Lords, acquainted the King with his intention of quitting that post. As there was so little time for supplying his place, both the King and Lord North were grievously offended with him;113but to the public it was matter of triumph and ridicule, pusillanimity being the sole reason of his abandoning so lucrative a post. Lord Chatham had sent him word, that he would inquire into and complain of the administration of justice in this country, four of the judges being become dependent on the Court—his Lordship as Speaker of the House of Lords, and three of the others as Commissioners of the Great Seal. The panic occasioned by that threat operated so strongly, that the King was obliged to determine on the Attorney-General for Lord Keeper; but as his health would not allow him to officiate immediately, Lord Mansfield, hoping that he had deprecated the thunder by publishing his intended resignation, consented to act for a few days; and by degrees recovering his abject spirits, was reconciled by the sweetness of the profit, and remained Speaker.

The second event hinted at, was the death of Mr. George Grenville. He had been dangerously ill in the summer, had recovered in some degree, relapsed, and had been brought to town in October for advice,where he soon fell into a desperate state, followed by a delirium that lasted to his death, which happened the very morning the Parliament met. His body being opened, his case appeared most singularly uncommon: his ribs were carious or quite worn away, and his skull as thin as paper. This extraordinary malady was imputed to a disorder in his blood, which had penetrated to the blood-vessels of his bones, and had corroded them.

Mr. Grenville was, confessedly, the ablest man of business in the House of Commons, and, though not popular, of great authority there from his spirit, knowledge, and gravity of character.114His faults, however, had been capital, and to himself most afflicting. His injudicious Stamp Act had exposedus to the risk of seeing all our Colonies revolt; and his resentment of the repeal had prevented him from ever forgiving Lord Chatham and Lord Rockingham, a sincere junction with whom might have driven the Court to restore him to power. His rash and ungrateful provocation of the Favourite, his indecently taking part with the Bedfords in their violent insult to the Princess on the Regency Bill, his forcing the King to break his word and turn out Mr. Mackenzie, and his silly parsimony in stinting the King’s expense in trifles, were crimes that had never been forgiven—the King, the Princess, and the Favourite being as weak in not pardoning him, as he had been in offending. No man would have seconded their views with more resolution or a more vindictive spirit. This was well-known to Lord Mansfield, who had constantly aimed at the restitution of Grenville, and whose recent panic had been increased by the prospect of Grenville’s death, having probably been privy to, if not the mediator of, a secret treaty that came out after Grenville expired. The latter, in short, had made his peace with Lord North, and was ready to accept almost any place. A new coldness that appeared between Lord Chatham and Lord Temple was no doubt owing to this transaction, Grenville depending too much on his brother for the reversion of the familyestate to have dared to treat with the Court, unless secure of Lord Temple’s sanction. That coldness, however, was laid on the private affairs of the family. A panegyric immediately pronounced by Lord North on Grenville on the day of his death—a promise made, and soon performed, of taking care of Whateley, his secretary—the revolt of Lord Suffolk and Lord Hyde (Grenville’s intimate friends) to the Court—their ensuing preferments, and the accession of almost all his faction to the majority, to the absolute dereliction, not only of Lord Chatham, but of Lord Temple, confirmed the negotiation—at least, proved how secure Lord North had been of Grenville’s concurrence. To Lord Temple’s factious ambition his brother’s death was fatal. He could not command a vote in either House, nor could avoid the part he took of declaring his intention of abandoning politics. Lord Chatham was left almost as destitute of followers; and Lord Rockingham, his competitor Grenville being removed, now depended on being named to the Treasury, should Lord Chatham ever recover power: but Grenville’s death was no step to the success of the Opposition.

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