LORD CHATHAM’S LAST APPEARANCE IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS.
About this time, some of the leaders of the opposition became convinced that the only possibility of detaching America from France and avoiding both wars was by acknowledging the independence of the American colonies. These sentiments were communicated to Chatham, and he was solicited by those who entertained them to honour a motion about to be made by the Duke of Richmond on this subject with his support. In reply, Chatham confessed his concern that he was under so wide a difference with his noble friends respecting the sovereignty and allegiance of America; but notwithstanding his increased infirmities, he expressed his determination to be in the house on the 7th of April, which was the day mentioned as that on which the subject was to be brought forward. On that day Chatham appeared in the house for the last time. He came wrapped up in flannel, supported by two friends, and looking like a dying man; and as he entered, the peers rose up and continued standing while he passed to his seat. The Duke of Richmond made his motion, which was for an address to the king, beseeching him to acknowledge the independence of America, by withdrawing all his forces from that country; and to dismiss his ministers. Lord Weymouth, one of the secretaries of state, opposed the motion, and Chatham followed on the same side against his own party. He was supported by his crutches and his two friends, and when he had gained his feet, he took one of his crutches from under his arm, and raising it cast his eyes toward heaven, and said:—“I thank God that I have been enabled to come here this day, to perform my duty and to speak on a subject which has so deeply impressed my mind. I am old and infirm; I have one foot—more than one foot in the grave; I am risen from my bed to stand up in the cause of my country, perhaps never again to speak in this house.” This was delivered in a feeble tone, but as he grew warm, his voice rose and became as harmonious as ever. In the course of his speech, he entered into a full detail of the American war, dilating on all the measures which he had opposed, and evils which he had predicted; adding, at the close of each review, “and so it proved.” Chatham then spoke more particularly on the subject of the motion. He remarked: “My lords, I rejoice that the grave has not closed upon me; that I am still alive to lift up my voice against the dismemberment of this ancient and most noble monarchy! Pressed down as I am by the hand of infirmity, I am little able to assist my country in this most perilous conjuncture; but, my lords, while I have sense and memory I will never consent to deprive the royal offspring of the House of Brunswick, the heirs of the Princess Sophia, of their fairest inheritance. Where is the man that will dare to advise such a measure? My lords, his majesty succeeded to an empire as great in extent as its reputation was unsullied. Shall we tarnish the lustre of this nation by an ignominious surrender of its rights and fairest possessions? Shall this great kingdom, that has survived whole and entire the Danish depredations, the Scottish inroads, and the Norman conquest—that has stood the threatened invasion of the Spanish armada,—now fall prostrate before the house of Bourbon? Surely, my lords, this nation is no longer what it was! Shall a people, that fifteen years ago were the terror of the world, now stoop so low as to tell their ancient, inveterate enemy, ‘Take all we have, only give us peace?’ It is impossible! I wage war with no man, or set of men. I wish for none of their employments; nor would I co-operate with men who still persist in unretracted error; who, instead of acting on a firm, decisive line of conduct, halt between two opinions where there is no middle path. In God’s name, if it is absolutely necessary to declare either for peace or war; and the former cannot be preserved with honour, why is not the latter commenced without hesitation? I am not, I confess, well informed of the resources of this kingdom, but I trust it has still sufficient to maintain its just rights, though I know them not. But, my lords, any state is better than despair. Let us at least make one effort; and if we must fall, let us fall like men!” When Chatham sat down, the Duke of Richmond rose again, and after replying to the arguments of Lord Weymouth, he attempted to answer the great orator. Although evidently disconcerted and irritated at the course he had taken, the Duke professed the greatest veneration for Chatham’s name and person, and the greatest gratitude for the services he had rendered the country. The name of Chatham, however, he said, could not perform impossibilities, or restore the country to the state it was in when directed by his counsels. Our finances were then, through the abilities of that able financier, Mr. Pelham, in a flourishing condition; our fleet was then in an admirable condition, under the direction and care of that able naval officer, Lord Anson; and the influence of the crown then had not reached its present and alarming height. During the greater part of the war, he continued, we had only France to contend with, and when Spain commenced hostilities, France was reduced to the lowest ebb, having already lost her navy and the best of her colonies. Then also America fought for us, but now she would be allied with France and Spain against us. He added, “If the noble earl had pointed out the means of supporting this unequal contest, I should readily acquiesce in his sentiments; but since he has not only omitted to point out the means, but acknowledged that he knows them not, he will excuse me if I adhere to my former opinion. No person is more anxious for the dependence of America; but being convinced of its total impracticability, I would retain the colonists as allies, and thus prevent them from throwing themselves into the arms of France. The noble earl, as a reason for war, has mentioned the inherent rights of the heir apparent. To recover these possessions by force is now impossible; but I will readily join in calling to a severe account those who have caused the loss of his inheritance.” During this harangue, the Earl of Chatham had frequently denoted by the motion of his hand that he had remarked and would reply to some observations which he deemed offensive, and when the Duke of Richmond sat down, he attempted to rise for that purpose. But his work was done: his strength failed him, and he would have fallen to the floor but for the prompt assistance of some noble peers. He was carried into an adjoining chamber, and the whole house, agitated by the event, adjourned in silence.