FOOTNOTES:
[4] [This is inconsistent with his own account of the matter in his correspondence with Lord Hartington, for which see the Appendix to Lord Waldegrave’s Memoirs, where letters from Mr. Fox relating the whole of the transactions between him and Mr. Pitt in 1755 have been lately printed.]—E.
[5] It was strongly denied afterwards that Fox had any advantage from this, and Calcraft’s vast riches seemed to acquit Fox of that suspicion. Fox’s great fortune was accumulated during the time he was Paymaster, and at the peace in the next reign. (Author.)
[6] [If the motives of Mr. Fox were as sordid as they are described in the text, would they have induced him to quit “so unlimited and so lucrative a traffic,” for an office higher in rank, and greater in importance, but infinitely less profitable than the Author pretends the Secretaryship at War to have been?]—E.
[7] William Gerard Hamilton.
[8] William Gerard Hamilton.
[9] Mr. Pelham.
[10] Fox.
[11] Lord Egmont.
[12] Alluding to the Duke.
[13] Mr. Fox
[14] Duke of Newcastle.
[15] Lord Granville’s.
[16] Duke of Newcastle.
[17] Conduct of his Majesty’s affairs in the House of Commons.
[18] The letter produced by Mr. Townshend was given to him by Sir Edward Turner, who, on receiving it, said, “I am surprised he writes to me; I don’t know the gentleman,”—yet Mr. Fox had been the chief manager in the Oxford election, and had had the principal hand in bringing Sir Edward into the House.
[19] In the year 1751.
[20] See the Memoirs for that year.
[21] Duke of Newcastle.
[22] It was the morning of Mr. Fox’s first levée.
[23] To the club at Arthur’s, formerly White’s.
[24] At Holland-house.
[CHAPTER III.]
Earthquake at Lisbon—Debates on a Bill for distributing Prizes taken at Sea to the Captors—Speeches of Charles Townshend—George Granville, Fox, and Pitt—Debates on the Army Estimates—Speeches of Pitt, Fox, Charles Townshend, Lord George Sackville, and Beckford—Debates on the new Militia Bill, introduced by George Townshend—Speech of Pitt—Homage of Sir George Lyttelton to Pitt.
Towards the end of November came letters from Sir Benjamin Keene, confirming the dreadful accounts of the earthquake at Lisbon, on the first of the month—a catastrophe most terrible, and completed by the flames, that laid waste the remains of that miserable city. The Royal Family had escaped death by being at a villa without the town; but the richest sovereign in Europe beheld himself in a moment reduced to the most deplorable indigence. He wrote to his sister the queen of Spain, “Here I am, a King, without a capital, without subjects, without raiment!” The horror of the survivors was increased by the murders committed by robbers and assassins, to whom even this tragedy was a theatre of gain. The shocks and vibration of the earth continued for many months. It seemed some great and extraordinary convulsion of nature: many towns in Portugal and Spain, were destroyed, at least greatly damaged; but some degree of the concussion was felt even from Dantzic to the shores of Africa. In England it occasioned very novel phenomena: in some counties the waters of ponds and lakes were heaved up perpendicularly.
28th.—Mr. Fox read to the House of Commons Sir Benjamin Keene’s letter, and delivered a Message from his Majesty, desiring to be enabled to assist the distressed Portuguese and the English residing at Lisbon, to which the House immediately assented, and one hundred thousand pounds, part in money, part in provisions and utensils, were destined to that service, and dispatched as soon as possible.[26]
December 2nd.—Lord Pulteney moved for leave to bring in a Bill to encourage seamen, and to man the Navy—by distributing all prizes to the captors, was understood. “The Bill,” he said, “was not to take place till the present riddle of politics should be disclosed—till war should be declared in form.” The Bill was a copy of one introduced by his father, to cultivate popularity, and distress the Ministry, at the beginning of the late war with Spain, and had then passed. Lord Pulteney had vivacity, and did not want parts. He had been brought into Parliament by the Duke of Newcastle, with whom his father, deserted by all parties, and seeming indifferent to all, lived on amicable terms. Lord Pulteney had attached himself to the new Opposition. Mr. Pitt, too, was not quite excusable in having suffered himself to be elected into Parliament by the Duke of Newcastle, when it was so probable that he would not continue to serve under him.
The Motion was opposed by the ministerial people, on the impropriety of the time. It was well supported by Elliot, another of the new minority, who urged that it would prevent pressing, and quoted the tyranny and violence of that custom as practised in Scotland, though the people there [were] not backward to list. He said, it was with difficulty that he had prevailed on himself to mention this; but seeds of danger are generally sown in dangerous times. Ellis replied, that application ought to be made to the proper officers when there are grievances from soldiers; if redress denied, then to Parliament. That sailors were not backward to list till the number was exhausted. That pressing had been in use ever since the reign of Edward the Third. The Scotch Lord Advocate, Dundas, said, that his place would have let him know, if there had been complaints in Scotland of the nature mentioned: had heard but of three complaints, and on those, two had been released; the other was of a man pressed at the suit of his wife, to prevent his wasting hers and the subsistence of her children. That not a sixth part would have been enlisted without [the] assistance of the military. Elliot replied that he knew none of those three instances; he could quote twenty examples of towns invested by soldiers; had not meant to complain, but to encourage seamen without pressing.
Charles Townshend spoke severely and admirably on the long acquiescence of the Administration under the insults of France, and on the similar acquiescence of Parliament; yet, he said, he could not discover whether the Ministers intended peace or war. If war, was it wrong to defend ourselves? If peace, as he believed,—if they could get it—did they mean to command or to supplicate it?—did they mean to make the Navy as useless as the Army? What a situation! Administration weakening Government, and Opposition supporting it! and Opposition discountenanced for supporting it! If a gentleman, with virtue unparalleled, offered anything for his country, he was to be removed, as if whoever would strengthen Government was obnoxious to it. What would the people think if our Ministers professed being alarmed, and yet refused to accept support? Could it be supposed that France was still to receive her first impression of our warlike disposition from leave that the House might give for a Bill that was to be brought in, that should say, that if there shall be a war, and we shall make any prizes, we would then divide them amongst the captors? Of no consequence would the Bill be, if the Administration should have power to get a peace, which he did not believe they would, as they refused to accept the power. That the only prematurity was in getting the Bill ready against it was necessary. He desired to leave to others the sort of spirit that did not strengthen, and the sort of moderation that did not prepare for war: the latter was only submission, miscalled moderation, and had brought on a system which our united Ministers could not undo.
Nugent said, when war should be declared, the same thing would be done in part, and, therefore, was no encouragement now. Captures before a declaration are generally given up. Nobody but the Ministers knew how little farther you could go, without engaging Spain against us. What had been done was to prevent invasion, and the manning of the French Navy. This war was unpopular in France: don’t make it popular. Stanley declared for the previous question, as a negative would make the present seamen think that they are not to share as well as the future. Sir Richard Lyttelton vaunted much the service he had done in getting the word lawful restored in the Mutiny Bill, which had he desired at the office he should have been thought impertinent. Sir Robert Walpole, with a venal Parliament, had not stifled the former Bill thus. Beckford said, nobody would suspect him of being an enemy to the Navy, who had the greatest part of his fortune afloat. That he would not give the whole prize to the captors, but would regulate it. That this Bill had not had a good effect in the last war; it had made our men attack the enemy, but neglect our own trade. That the Jehoiakim and other Spanish prizes had been condemned before the declaration of the last war; and these would be so. He preferred war to uncertain peace.
The chief passages of a fine emphatic speech of George Grenville were, “That we were in a state of war for subsidies, of peace for our Navy. When we should come to debate the treaties, all the talk would be war; to-day, all was peace. France had much to restore before she had any right to restitution; ought to refund all the expense she had driven us into. Sir Robert Walpole was not too precipitate, yet two years before the war he did not call this Bill premature. Why this overstrained civility to France? The Newspapers said 250,000l. had been remitted from France to create divisions in Parliament. He did not complain of such scandal as this—nay, was glad that freedom of writing was encouraged by authority. The time was come when our calamities would open the mouths of all that could speak, and would incite the pens of all that could write; yet he did not mean to speak indecently, or write licentiously. He should thank Heaven, with Timoleon, if Syracuse were so free, that the most profligate in it might abuse the best and highest. For the previous question: would seamen, he asked, understand the meaning of it, when it was scarce clear enough for the comprehension of the House?”
Fox censured the irregularity of the Debate, and sneered at pathetic discourses upon such immaterial occasions. He said he should be for giving the whole capture of those who made, or should attempt to make, prizes; that is, he would reserve a portion for those who sought them without success. That the whole dispute turned upon the word now. If sailors did not understand the previous question, the more pity that the Bill should be moved, when it was necessary to put that question. He wished that all who remembered Sir Robert Walpole thought of him as he did. Was Sir Robert Walpole forced into a war by a venal House of Commons? It had hurt his country more than him. “For the Mutiny Bill, you, Sir,” said he, addressing himself to the Speaker, “would not have let me leave out the word lawful surreptitiously. He who has said what he has of Sir Robert Walpole, may say that of me in the next sentence; I shall like it the better. But the word lawful was not necessary; who is to obey unlawful commands? It was restored to please Sir Richard; he did not know, he said, if it had pleased anybody else.” He did not think it would have been remembered by Lyttelton seven years afterwards, as the great action of his life, for which this country was indebted to him. That this was making war by a Parliamentary side-wind; that if these prizes proved very considerable, he would not restore them without a good peace. Why was the previous question urged, but from the unwillingness of the Administration to reject the Bill? Would you give the seamen hopes when you are not sure that you can condemn and distribute these prizes? He was sorry they had not been called brave that day, without the mention of their views of gain! Don’t make yourselves ridiculous to Europe, by giving what you have not to give. He advised them to withdraw their Motion, and Address for declaration of war; he should not concur with them, but it would be more consistent behaviour.
Pitt said it did Granville honour to be told ironically and maliciously of his pathetic speech by Fox, who had spoken logically, not feelingly, and who, he wished, would think farther than that little, narrow now. For himself, he had always spoken, all that Minister’s family had heard him speak, with respect of Sir Robert Walpole, after the determination of his power—these last words occasioned a laugh:—Pitt angrily and haughtily told them it was a blundering laugh: was it or was it not more honourable to respect a man after his power determined? He defended Sir Richard Lyttelton as having mentioned the Mutiny Bill properly, in consequence of Elliot’s account, which he threatened should have its day of consideration. He laughed at the more than Stoic patience of the Administration, talked up the American war, and concluded that the French prizes were reserved as a deposit to recover Hanover; he could account for this unintelligible tenderness no other way. Sir Richard Lyttelton said he honoured Fox in his private character, but believed that if he had the same power as Sir Robert Walpole, he would not use it with the same moderation. Murray insisted that this Bill was taking from the King his prerogative of declaring war. Dr. Hay was warmly for the Bill, especially as it would demand much time to amend it, and as warm against what he called the detestable practice of pressing. Legge asked, what was this so critical now, that this Bill would turn the scale? had France forgot all our hostilities, and would she resent this simple Bill? Why should Spain resent it? He never, he said, could hear Sir Robert Walpole mentioned without expressing his veneration; he was an honour to human nature, and the peculiar friend to Great Britain. The previous question was put and carried by 211 to 81. The Bill was afterwards passed with modifications on the declaration of war.
December 5th.—William, Duke of Devonshire, died of a dropsy. I have nothing to add of the account given of him in the first part of these Memoirs, but what showed a conscientious idea of honesty in him; and, though the circumstance is trifling, a virtue is always worth recording. Sometime before his death he had given up to two of his younger sons 600l. a year in land, that they might not perjure themselves, if called upon to swear to their qualifications, as Knights of the Shire.
The same day the new Secretary at War moved for an Army of 34,263 men, which was an augmentation of 15,000 men, the extent of what could be raised at that time in such a country as England; in poor countries levies are made with more facility. When this should be completed, a farther increase was intended. Eight thousand eight hundred men were designed for North America; where two battalions had disgraced their country. Lord Barrington commended the North Americans, extolled Braddock, who, he said, had been basely traduced; praised Nova Scotia, Lord Halifax, and Cornwallis.
Pitt, in one of his finest florid declamations, seconded the Motion, adding, that last year he had pronounced 18,000 men not sufficient; our whole force was necessary at this dangerous and critical conjuncture. Other efforts were requisite than sending two miserable battalions to America as victims. Every step since had tended to provoke a war, not to make it—and at last the Crown itself was to be fought for by so ineffective or so raw an Army! He hoped, by alarming the nation, to make the danger reach the ears of His Majesty, who was likely, after so gracious a reign, to be attacked in his venerable age! to see such a country exposed by the neglect of his Ministers! He could not avoid turning from the venerable age of the King, to his amiable posterity, born among us, yet given up by some unskilful Minister or Ministers!—yet he meaned no invectives; he made no accusation; he spoke from his feeling.
He then drew a striking and masterly picture of a French invasion reaching London, and of the horrors ensuing, while there was a formidable enemy within the capital itself, as full of weakness as full of multitude; a flagitious rabble, ready for every nefarious action: of the consternation that would spread through the City, when the noble, artificial, yet vulnerable fabric of public credit should crumble in their hands! How would Ministers be able to meet the aspect of so many citizens dismayed? How could men so guilty meet their countrymen? How could a British Parliament assemble without these considerations? The King’s Speech of last year had been calculated to lull us into a fallacious dream of repose—or had his Ministers not had understanding, or foresight, or virtue,—he repeated the words, that he might not be misquoted,—had they had none of these qualifications to prompt them to lay the danger before his Majesty? Was it not a proof of his assertions, that where his Majesty himself had a foresight even of fancied, not threatened, danger, we knew what provision, vast provision had been made? did the subjects of the Crown want a feeling which the subjects of the Electorate possessed in so quick a degree? did he live to see the day, when a British Parliament had felt so inadequately? That there were but ten thousand men in this part of the United Kingdom; that not more than half would be left to defend the Royal Family and the metropolis; and half security is full and ample danger.
Accursed be the man, and he would have the malediction of his country, who did not do all he could to strengthen the King’s hands! he would have him strengthened by laying open the weakness of his Councils; would substitute reality to incapacity and futility, and the little frivolous love of power. To times of relaxation should be left that fondness for disposal of places: wisdom ought to meet such rough times as these. It was that little spirit of domination that had caused the decay of this country, that ambition of being the only figure among ciphers: when that image was first used, perhaps it was prophecy, to-day it was history. Two hundred and eighty thousand pounds, the charge of this augmentation, would last year have given us security: for that sum our Stocks would fall, and hurry along with them the ruin of this City, vulnerable in proportion to its opulence. In other countries, treasures remain where a city is not sacked; paper credit may be invaded even in Kent; it is like the sensitive plant, it need not be cropped; extend but your hand, it withers and dies. The danger had been as present last year to any eye made for public councils; for what is the first attribute of a wise Minister, but to leave as little as possible to contingents? How do thoughtlessness, folly, and ignorance, differ from wisdom and knowledge, but by want of foresight?
He would not recur, like Lord Barrington, to the Romans for comparisons; our own days had produced as great examples. In 1746, thirteen regiments raised by noblemen, who, though they did not leave their ploughs, left their palaces, had saved this country; he believed it. With what scorn, depression, cruelty, as far as contempt is cruelty, were they treated by the hour! with what calumny! He wished the Government would encourage the Nobility and Gentry to form a militia, as a supplement to the Army. He wanted to call this country out of that enervate state, that twenty thousand men from France could shake it. The maxims of our Government were degenerated, not our natives. He wished to see that breed restored, which under our old principles had carried our glory so high! What would the age think they deserved, who, after Washington was defeated and our forts taken—who, after connivance, if not collusion, had advised his Majesty to trust to so slender a force?—on cool reflection, what would they deserve? He did not call for the sagacity of a Burleigh or a Richelieu to have foreseen all that must happen—that may happen in two months. He had no vindictive purpose, nor wanted to see penal judgments on their heads: our calamities were more owing to the weakness of their heads than of their hearts.
Fox replied, he wished Mr. Pitt had made this awakening speech when we were asleep, and before France had awakened us: but the honourable gentleman had judged by the event; if he had foreseen, he would undoubtedly have made this noble speech sooner: “if he had made it,” said Fox, “I am sure I should have remembered it; I am not apt to forget his speeches. Was it ever in that House reckoned virtue to advise the King to ask more money? it was rather a mark of understanding than of virtue. Let Pitt prescribe a method to quicken recruiting; let him set to a Militia Bill. Yet,” said he, “I have been told by a wise man, that it is too nice a line to draw a scheme for a militia in the hands of the Crown; the House alone could do it.” Yet he should think it less to be despaired of, since Mr. Pitt thought it practicable. That the scheme for recruiting must be to enlist for a term of years. That the total silence of Parliament was an excuse for not having made the augmentation sooner. With regard to the thirteen regiments, he would always own if he repented, or persist if he thought his opinion right. He remembered at that time there was a noble Duke[27] able and willing, (thank God! he was able and willing now,) at the closet-door, who, as soon as it was opened, went in and offered his service, saying, he would go with his Lowlanders and see if he could not oppose those Highlanders:—he remembered another anecdote; he was now forced to tell it; it was a scheme for a cheap regiment of Dragoons, which, by another Duke,[28] was converted into two dear regiments of Horse—but he would ask, did all those Noblemen act from public spirit? did they all raise their regiments? there had been a mixture which he wanted to unmix.
Pitt answered; why had he not alarmed last year? he had been deluded by the speech. Those then in the confidence of the Minister—Fox then was not of the number—declared they did not believe we should have a war: could he believe it in defiance of that speech, smoothing over all the horrors of our situation? The Ministers could no longer secrete our danger; they had concealed it for fear of awakening speeches. Could he pronounce those speeches, till overpowered by the conjuncture? he did in private: while he was suffered to represent in private, he did—now we must sound the alarum in Parliament, when we have invited into our bowels a war that was the child of ignorance and connivance—if there is justice under Heaven, the Ministers must one day answer it.
Thus far the Debate was serious: will it be credited that the following speech was so? Will not my narrative be sometimes thought a burlesque romance? as Don Quixote had his Sancho, and Hudibras his Ralph, may not some future commentator discover, that the Duke of Newcastle was my trembling hero, and Nugent his abandoned squire? This modest personage replied to Pitt, that he thought the Administration wise and honest; that he did not think there was a more honest set of men. Could Pitt have said more, if all had happened that he thinks will? Everything was exaggerated, yet nothing had been done wrong. That he would defend the Ministry till five in the morning. Though engaged against the greatest power in the universe, in every part of the universe, have we proved weak? That this foolish—Pitt objecting that he had not used that term, Nugent continued,—he thought he had used every epithet in the English language—well then! this weak and ignorant Administration had contrived to oppose a superiority of force, and had miscarried but in one place. That he did not wonder Pitt expected everything from this Administration—but he expected more. That though the censure had been so unjust, he could not help knowing at whom it was aimed: but great history-painters are often very bad portrait-painters: he must own he knew who was meant; professed himself a friend to that great man: vowed he never heard any doubt of who ought to be First Minister—but, like the dedication of the Tale of the Tub to Lord Somers, all men agreed in the Duke of Newcastle. France never made so pitiful a figure as against this Administration. Pitt’s were but assertions; his assertions were as good; he would say, the Duke of Newcastle was honest and wise.
The burlesque increased; Sir Thomas Robinson played a base to Nugent’s thunder; his pompous rumbling made proper harmony with the other’s vociferation. The latter had exhausted flattery on another man; Sir Thomas contrived to be as bombast in a panegyric on himself. He said, he had been banished[29] for eighteen years, without a friend to communicate with; with no opportunity of practising eloquence, with no university education—yet he must speak, as complicated in the charge on the Administration of the last twelve months. He cried out, “Me, me adsum qui feci, in me convertite telum! If I am proper for anything, continued he, I am for the closet: I am proper for it from my courage, from my virtue, do not say for my understanding. I have enjoyed a happier year and half than ever I knew, for I have spoken my mind. Why should I not have dared to speak my mind in the closet, when I have dared to speak it here? Men took courage from what I said; virtue was out of my mouth. Et dubitamus adhuc virtutem extendere factis? Why is forgot what we have done by sea? We have acted fortiter in re, suaviter in modo.”
Charles Townshend observed, that every body had defended only their own part, nobody the system. Who would defend the melancholy state of America? There, when the plan of Lord Halifax, so singular in his attention, had been embraced, why was it not supported? because we chose to set up negotiation against force. He then gave a detail of the French encroachments, of our supineness, of the neglect of the Massachusets, and of our suffering the French to settle the disputed territories. If the course of all these measures was not changed, our situation would be incapable of amendment by honester hearts and wiser heads. At least, if the Administration would not change their measures, let them be defended by Sir Thomas Robinson—nobody had defended them better!
Lord George Sackville, in a manly, sensible speech, said, he should be so unfashionable as to speak to the question—if there were crimes, let them be alleged. The country was exposed; he did not know who was guilty. He knew who made provision against our danger; the King. No dispositions being made but to guard Scotland and this metropolis, evinced our weakness. But look south, look west, what defence was there? where was there any? it was all in your fleet. Where was your local defence? no country had so little. Where was your militia? only in the Orders of the Council. One recommended it to another, the Lord-Lieutenant to the Deputy-Lieutenant. In his profession it was fashionable to laugh at militias; he wished to see one. Let us not lie tempting the enemy to revenge; our most essential part, the docks, were unfortified. He recommended expedition, excused the completing the two Irish battalions, which were small, in Ireland, because if they had been recruited with Americans, it was feared they would disagree. Of Braddock he said, “he died in his country’s cause, and therefore, if I thought ill of him, I would not say it.”
It had been a day of rodomontade; Beckford finished the debate with one, declaring, that the Americans looked upon him as their representative, and transmitted their grievances to him. That a letter had been sent to him which had gone to the Plantations, and had puzzled him; they did not know how to act. Having demanded how they were to behave on the encroachments of the French, they were told, “repel force”—so far was right—what followed was the postscript of a woman’s letter—it said, “take care not to repel force, but on your own limits”—and those limits were then undecided, and were settling by Commissaries! He wished, he said, to give courage; the French were more frightened than you; and you seemed tolerably frightened. Their silence proceeded from imbecility; they had entered upon this war too soon: he hoped “we should be economic, that we should not have more than 34,000 men, and no compulsory laws.” There was no division. A day or two afterwards, the Bill for pressing, as practised in the two last wars, was revived.
The letter which Beckford mentioned had been written by Lord Holderness to the Governors of our Colonies. Charles Townshend had intended to make great use of it in his meditated attack on the Ministry, for their tame and negligent administration of the Plantations. He was hurt at Beckford’s premature disclosure of what he intended as a real charge. How his American campaign was prevented will be seen hereafter.
Another topic of the Debate calls for a few words. In the time of the Rebellion thirteen Lords had offered to raise regiments of their own dependents, and were allowed. Had they paid them too, the service had been noble. Being paid by the Government, obscured a little of the merit—being paid without raising them, would deserve too coarse a term. It is certain that not six of the thirteen regiments ever were raised—not four were employed. If, then, they saved this country, as Mr. Pitt asserted, it was by preventing risings in the counties where they were stationed. Did those that were not raised, prevent insurrections? or did those that were raised, and were led out of their counties, prevent them? The chief persons at the head of this scheme were the Dukes of Bedford and Montagu. The former raised and served with his regiment. The Duke of Montagu, who thought he could never get too much from the Government, or give away enough to the poor, had the profit of two regiments. Mr. Fox had warmly attacked this plan, especially on the design of giving rank to the officers; and had made a great breach amongst the ministerial people: yet it was carried. Pitt, at that period connected with the Duke of Bedford, had supported the scheme: it was artful in him now to revive the remembrance of it, when Fox was possessed of the Duke of Bedford.
8th.—George Townshend moved for a Committee of the Whole House to consider the Laws relating to the Militia, in order to bring in a new Bill, and establish a real Militia. It is too well known, to recapitulate what disputes this subject had occasioned in the reign of Charles the First. The apprehension of reviving those contests had contributed to let the topic lie almost in oblivion; the footing which a regular Army had gained in this country had concurred to throw disrepute upon it. The foolish exercises of the Trained Bands in the city, gave it a total air of ridicule. Yet the very establishment of an Army inspired many with wishes for a more constitutional defence. Oppositions, from the very spirit of party, had frequently attempted a revival of the Militia. Opposition to the Duke, who had drawn his notions of war from the purest German classics, prompted his enemies to promote whatever he would dislike. Foreign forces introduced to save a country like this, made it shameful not to listen to any expedient that could place defence in the hands of the natives. The difficulties of establishing a Militia in an age of customs and manners so different were almost insuperable. The country gentlemen themselves felt the impracticability, or the inconveniences, if practicable; yet the theme was become too popular to be withstood; and many gave into the scheme, trusting to its defeating itself.
Pitt, who by no means thought it feasible, yet knowing that it would either be rejected by the Ministry, or fall by its own difficulties, resolved to lose no merit with those who thought it could be effected, and accordingly unfolded a plan for it himself. He opened it with a plain precision, and went through with a masterly clearness. His memory in the details was as great as the capacity he showed for business. He had never shone in this light before.
He said, he would do himself real honour by seconding a gentleman of a family that had preserved so exact a medium between duty to the Crown and to their country. Yet, though Mr. Townshend’s friend and servant, he should have no hope, unless Government, the Army, the Law, and what in this case was most material, the Country Gentlemen, would give their assistance. He unfortunately was out of all these descriptions. He knew no secrets of Government, he had too early been driven[30] from the profession of arms, he had never studied the law; he was no country gentleman. It was perhaps rash in him, for it was dangerous for any man, to touch our constitution, which had not been the result of chance, but of the wisdom of ages: he only spoke to call Government not to sit with their arms across. But indeed here the country gentleman would be more first Minister than any Minister in the land. He would venture, too, to offer some considerations. The heads of his scheme were, that the Militia should be reduced to about 50,000 or 60,000; a kind of half-trained Army. That the Crown, which now was not at liberty to march them out of their several counties, should have that power. That there should be a compulsory call under the civil power. Should be all Foot. That he hoped never to see the standing Army less than 18,000: the Militia, as a supplement, that we may not be looking all round the world for subsidiary troops. That it must be a lasting body, paid and clothed. Should be exercised twice a week. Should be reviewed four times a year by the Lord Lieutenants of counties, and by Generals of the King’s Army. Should have the same pay as the Foot soldiers, but with plain clothing, not pretending to all the lustre of an Army. What, if they should be exercised on Sundays after church?—unless the Clergy or Dissenters disapproved it. He would retract this proposal, if it gave offence. The exercise comprehending 110 days, if they were to be exercised on Sundays, and one other day of the week, with sixpence a day, they would receive a shilling for losing one day in a week from their work.
He would have no deduction from their pay, but would have their clothes provided for them, which, with being sure of a shilling a week all the year round, might be a compensation. That they should wear their clothes three years, and only when exercised. The officers to have no pay, but a qualification in land in their own county, or being sons of a larger estate—for instance, of 1500l. a year. Not to be under military law, but subject to civil punishment in time of peace. When marched, to be subject to military discipline; for what is martial law, but growing out of the nature of the service, which is not the laws of peace? That there could not be too many Serjeants to such companies. Would have private soldiers of the Army for Serjeants of Militia. Not fewer than four Serjeants to eighty men. That the Crown should name an Army Adjutant with Serjeant’s pay. That the expense would not rise to near what would be imagined; would come under 300,000l. What millions had gone out of England for the last thirty years, which this expense would have saved! What an inglorious picture for this country, to figure gentlemen driven by an invasion like a flock of sheep, and forced to send their money abroad to buy courage and defence! If this scheme should prove oppressive, provincially or parochially, he was willing to give it up: but how preferable to waiting to see if the wind would blow you subsidiary troops! You would never want them again—they are an eye-sore! He praised the Army and its constitutional inclinations; and observed what stability a Militia would give to our system.
This speech in its material parts was made the groundwork of the subsequent Bill; the discussion of which took up many and very long days. The Speaker gave great assistance; so did Lord George Sackville. The Ministry early, at last the House itself, except about a dozen persons, totally deserted attendance upon the Bill. As it did not pass the Lords, I shall drop any farther account of it, till it came thither, except to mention some pretty homage which Sir George Lyttelton’s awe made him pay to the genius of his offended friend Mr. Pitt. After the latter’s exposition of his plan, Sir George compared a Militia to the longitude, necessary, but hitherto sought in vain. He had often, he said, heated his imagination with the topic, but his judgment had cooled it again. If soldiers assisted the plan, he should hope better of it; they might avoid the errors of civil men. That hints from Mr. Pitt were important advices; a sketch from him was almost a finished picture: but it ought to be finished, the lines should be very correct. The whole people would not betray the whole people, but sixty thousand might. The most material part of our affairs was our finances; if this institution would hurt them, it was not admissible. The smaller the number, the more practicable; yet there might be danger of another kind. He never wished to see Foreigners, but when no other force was to be had. With ever so great a Militia, you may want them; you cannot march Militia abroad.