CHAPTER VI.
Debates in the House of Commons on the Regency Bill.
The bill thus wonderfully modified was sent to the House of Commons, where it was read the first time without a word of animadversion or notice. In fact, the extraordinary step taken by the Ministers had occasioned such consternation, that no man was ready to decide what part he would take. As my views had been so fully answered by the hostilities into which I had drawn the Ministers against the Court, I wished my friends to lie by, and wait the event of that quarrel. The Duke of Cumberland, who had been secretly applied to by the King for his protection against the Ministers, and who was content with seeing the Princess thus publicly branded, and consequently divested of all hope of being Regent, was desirous, too, that the Opposition should give no farther impediment to the bill. By his direction Lord Albemarle prevailed on his brother, Admiral Keppel, on Admiral Saunders, General Honeywood, and others of the military, to declare they were satisfied and would go no farther. But there was a head so incomparably wrong and obstinate, that no discretion, no address, no salutary counsel, could regulate or restrain its determinations. This was Lord John Cavendish, the most conceited and self-willed young man I ever knew, and whose love of rule would listen to no advice that crossed his own ideas. He insisted on making Lord Lyttelton’s motion for naming the Queen Regent, and intended to move it at the first reading of the bill. Mr. Conway no sooner came into the House, than Lord John took him aside to persuade him to concur in that measure. I observed this, and followed them. Fitzroy[111] and Honeywood joined us, and declared against it. Mr. Conway was staggered, and advised deferring the motion till the day of the commitment. We agreed to meet at night at Sir George Saville’s; but I would not go, being determined not to act with them in such ill-timed hostilities, and knowing I should have more weight with Conway in a private conversation, than in a tumultuous debate; but I prepared Fitzroy, and sent him warm to the meeting: having hinted to him that I could see no reason why the Duke of Devonshire’s youngest brother should govern the Duke of Grafton’s brother. Fitzroy went and repeated the opinion of the officers against the motion. Lord John said, rudely, it was to save their commissions. Mr. Conway yielded, and the motion was resolved on. Yet, Lord John’s brothers, George and Frederick, and Admiral Keppel, all repeated their opinion to me, and complained of Lord John’s warmth. Lord Rockingham, though much swayed by Lord John, I shook; then went to Mr. Conway, where I found the last. He was more obstinate than ever, and said he wished the Opposition was reduced to six or seven, who could depend on one another. I smiled and said, “I was too old to wait on his Lordship to Utica.”
May 7th. The bill was read a second time, and Lord John made his motion to address the King, to name the Regent;[112] but it was so thinly and feebly supported, that they could not divide for it. De Grey, the Solicitor-General, was so good a courtier, that on this emanation of the King’s mind, as he called it, he declared he would be against the bill, if the Regent was named. T. Townshend observed that the nomination was to be testamentary, and yet no witnesses to it. That though a living king might be complimented with the attributes of divinity, everybody knew how little respect was paid to a dead king; and then, laughing at De Grey, he said, “If in these times of no Cabal, no ambition, (the Solicitor’s words,) we could settle no provision, would it be more possible in future? or would the House imitate the Parliaments of Henry VIII., which gave him power both over religion and the succession? George Grenville expressed respect to Lord John, but asked how any man who was against the whole bill, could approve of that motion? was this an unlimited power? The King could name a very small number as the bill now stood. This bill had been framed after those drawn by Lord Somers and Lord Hardwicke. The testamentary instruments were to be sealed by three great officers, and much form to be used in recalling them. Would you address the King to name all the future substitutions that he might make? There was no precedent, it was said, of such a bill—was there any of such an address? The motion went to an unrestrained nomination. Should the King name, would the House not confirm it?—and then what a precedent would there be! Lord John Cavendish replied, that he was not against the whole bill, though he disapproved many of the clauses. Yet they who disliked the whole would be consistent, as they might desire to make it as perfect as might be, though they could not obtain all they wished. At present, the King might revoke his nomination, and yet omit to substitute another person. For himself, he still disliked any secret nomination. T. Townshend, too, said, that if the address was carried, the House would not be tied down to approve any improper person. Onslow went farther, and said, that in a vacancy the throne was elective. Charles Yorke, that if the King was out of the kingdom, his power was defective. A general bill for all times could not be framed. The judges thought that the grandchildren of the Crown were not the children of the Crown. Yet all the King’s family should look up to the King, and ought not to be made independent of him. Colonel Onslow said, he would appoint the people father of the child, till the child could be the father of them. Mawbey offered to second any man who would expressly name the Queen; but that proposal and the motion for the address were almost unanimously rejected. James Grenville then objected to the commitment of the whole bill, though he was not against all Regencies, but had heard none such as he should like described. Colonel Barré was for a Regency, but saw no precision in the proposed bill. Should there be no bill, what power could punish a bold man that should engross the government? The house would punish him who was as bold and daring as any man. (This seemed meant at Lord Bute, though much more true of Grenville.) He was against the King’s power, of naming the Regent. It was a bad measure, having so many capital figures in it. He was an enemy to adulation, but must ask, if men, who would give up their rights under a good prince, were likely to reclaim them under a bad one? If the Queen was intended for Regent, let the House meet the wishes of their Sovereign and name her. If her Majesty was ambitious, she might have availed herself of this bill. Yet he believed she had both art and ambition, but had used them for no end but to make her consort adored. Was that a reason for excluding her? This bill had no stamp of royalty in it. All the King’s acts had tended to decrease his prerogative. This was a ministerial bill. Nor Somers nor Hardwicke had proposed a secret nomination. Cardinal Beaton had read a paper to his dying master, and passed it off for the King’s act: such an artifice might be repeated. In the Council of Regency the Princes might outvote the Queen. Should the Queen die in three or four years, was the King’s nomination to take place of the wisdom of Parliament then sitting? He declared that in his military capacity he would serve with fidelity, but in the House would oppose what he held was not for the King’s good. Norton, the Attorney-General, declared that the Parliament appointed to sit for six months after the King’s death might sit, or not, at the option of the Crown. Wedderburn, boasting that he dated his principles from the Revolution, said he approved the bill, because copied from those times. They had delegated power to unknown persons by establishing a Regency of such as should be in possession of the great offices at the death of Queen Anne. General Conway approved of sending the bill to the committee out of respect, and in order to try to amend it; but thought the power to be granted worse than the want of provision. It was not unconstitutional to make provision against accidents, but it was so to make bad provision. The King would now be empowered to name for the whole sixteen years that his son might be a minor. For the House of Lords, he said, they had deliberated without concluding, and then concluded without deliberating. Grenville said, that not going into the committee would be putting an end to all bills of Regency. If the difference of opinion was so great already, what would it be on the King’s death, if no provision were made? It was unconstitutional to say that King, Lords, and Commons could not repeal any act. Had not they repealed two-thirds of Magna Charta, particularly in the case of wards and liveries? For himself, he dreaded some great military man (the Duke of Cumberland), and thought he already heard the lion roar. Onslow replied, that a Secretary of State, ready with head and hand to execute General Warrants, was more formidable than a King, who was popular by deserving to be so. The bill was committed, and the House rose at nine o’clock without a division.
I went the next day to the Duke of Newcastle; he saluted me with saying how much he was against my opinion of absenting ourselves from the House (which I had proposed the day before, when I found I could not restrain our party otherwise). It would ruin our characters, he said, to keep away;—(I could scarce refrain from laughing at hearing him talk of character)—and that if we did not oppose in the House of Commons, the Duke of Bedford would not in the House of Lords—(this was founded on the report of Morton intending to move for reinstating the name of the Princess). “And do you think, my Lord,” replied I, “that the Duke of Bedford will oppose if we do? I know he will not; and I will tell your grace what will happen; the very reverse of what you expect. Instead of being against the Princess, you will be included in a vote for her. No mortal will speak against her: if nobody does, there will be no division, and thus you will vote for her.” He was struck, and said he was sorry, but the young men would have it so. I said, “My Lord, why do not you govern your young people, and not let them govern you?” He replied: “They all say they will be governed by me sooner than by anybody, except where their conscience directs;” however, he would go and talk it over with Lord Rockingham. I then went to Mr. Conway and told him what had passed. I said “I saw we were all to be governed by a raw obstinate vain boy; that I found I had no weight; and though I would vote with them once more, if we were drawn into a division on the Princess, that they might not say I deserted them from interested views, yet it should be the last time; and I would go to the House no more. That he gave up his opinion to Lord John, though he would not to me; and that if Lord John did but whistle the words honour and virtue, he could turn him (Conway) which way he pleased.” Mr. Conway complained of my warmth, and said Lord John had given up the question on the army at our desire, (which was true,) that for his part he desired no place, and liked very well to act with a few. “And how long,” said I, “do you think they will let a few only act? What are we doing? or why? is it not for our country? If we can serve it better by silence than by speaking, is not it preferable?” He said he preferred his character and the Cavendishes to his country. “Then,” said I, “I would never have embarked with any of you, had I known you only acted for the applause of the mob.” However, I made no impression on him but by one argument; and by that not enough. I said, “If you force a division against the Princess, you will have very few with you. Those few will hate you for it. Most of your friends will leave you, as they did last night, by which you discovered to the Ministers your weakness, and the divisions in your party. If you force most of your friends to abandon you, as most men will, by so ungentleman-like, outrageous, provoking, and unjustifiable an act, as stigmatizing the King’s mother, for which you cannot give a plausible, and dare not give the true reason,—(for will any of you venture to allege what none of you can prove, her intrigue with Lord Bute?)—you demolish the party at once. Those of you who shall vote against the Princess will abuse those who vote for her, as influenced by mercenary views; and thus, when you have once made them desperate, and shall have forced them to have merit with her, they will of course adhere to her whom they have been courting. I have divided the Ministry by suggesting to the Duke of Richmond to name the Princess: you are going to give the Ministers an opportunity of recovering the ground they have lost, by defending her against you.” “Why,” said Mr. Conway, “if the Ministers should break, to which division would you go?” “Certainly,” said I, “to Lord Bute and Mr. Pitt, rather than to the Bedfords.” He declared he should prefer the latter. In short, we did not agree at all; though he said all he could to soften me, and expressed the greatest concern at differing with me: but it was so material not to suffer Lord John’s inexperience and folly to govern the party, that I determined to make my stand there; for I saw that young man’s rashness was capable of over-turning in an instant all I had been planning for six months. I first had tried to form a party to overthrow the Administration, Bute, Grenville, Bedfords, and all. When I found the Opposition too weak and too foolish to compass that, I turned to the next best thing, dividing Bute and the Ministers. In that I succeeded; and then saw all my schemes and labours on the point of being blasted by a silly boy, who, when all I had foreseen happened, had not a word to say for himself. Thus did I perceive how vexatious it was to live with many fools and not with enough! I did not forget the lesson: it took deep root, and was the first inducement to me to form a resolution of quitting politics. Other events contributed; and I was wise enough not to throw away those fruits of my experience. Yet, before I quitted the scene, I had the pleasure of accomplishing all the views that first set me in motion, of demolishing a dangerous Administration, of humbling Grenville and the Bedfords, and of convincing Lord John Cavendish, that it had been more prudent not to provoke me by attempting to interfere with my influence with Mr. Conway. With regard to the Duke of Newcastle, whom I had always despised, and with whom a common cause had obliged me to act, I did find how well-grounded my contempt of him had been, and to how little purpose it was to act with him. He was always eager, but never ready: delighted in talking over measures, but knew not how to begin or pursue them; and was as happy in seeming to lead an ineffectual party, as he had been in governing the nation. He thought he possessed secrets if he did but whisper, or was whispered to. Attendance on him was his supreme joy; and if two of the party came to him on the same business, he made one of them wait, to wear an air of mystery to both. There never was a man who loved power so much, and who could enjoy the shadow with the same content, when the substance was gone. Nor is it less remarkable, that, though favour at Court was the object of his life, he began it with insulting the Prince of Wales (George II.), and concluded it with affronting the Princess Dowager.