There is no doubt that the happy and unexpected recovery of His Majesty averted a struggle that might have gone near to dissolve the connection of the Executive authority between the two kingdoms; for, had His Majesty's illness continued much longer, there is too much reason to believe that His Royal Highness would have been advised to accept the invitation of the Irish Parliament, by which he would have been created Regent of Ireland, with full powers, before an Act of Parliament had passed in England under the Great Seal empowering him to assume the functions of Sovereignty. The confusion that would have ensued upon such a state of affairs, and the disastrous issues to which it would have inevitably led, cannot be contemplated, even at this distance of time, without an expression of astonishment that men were to be found capable of entertaining such a proposition. The heroic endurance of Lord Buckingham, upon whom the whole weight of contending against the madness in which this scene of folly and violence originated, enabled him, happily for the repose of both countries, to live down the dangers and the odium which his steadfast discharge of his duties, and his firm adherence to the policy of the English Cabinet, had drawn upon him during this season of political delirium. His own impressions of the scene around him, and the strength of the resolution he brought to bear upon it, will be shown in an extract from a hasty note written to Lord Bulkeley, in the midst of the clamour of the Parliament, on the 14th of March.
I have not shrunk from my duty in the worst times, and I will not trifle with it in those which look more prosperous. Much must be done to save the British Government from an infamous and daring combination, which might have been yielded to by a more pusillanimous minister; but could only be met by one confident in his character and conduct. Do not think this the language of vanity; the times have been, and still are much too serious for such a boyish passion: I feel that the dearest interests of both kingdoms are at stake, and nothing but firmness can save it. I have been insulted, I may be beat, but I will not be disgraced.
When the victory was finally achieved, he writes again to Lord Bulkeley in a strain of justifiable exultation, announcing his complete triumph over the Opposition. The letter is dated the 4th May, and the passage extracted from it contains an animated picture of the strife through which the writer had just passed.
I told you, two months ago, that my friends would not blush for me—that I might be beaten, but that I would not be disgraced. I write to you now in the moment, and with the transports of the warmest exultation and of honest pride, to tell you, that on Saturday night I closed the session in the House of Commons, having thrown out every measure brought forward by Opposition. They would not divide after their second defeat, where, though our majority was the same, yet, as fewer members voted, it was more in proportion than before; and the illness of Lord Clanbrassil and of Lord Lifford lost us three votes. The House of Lords still sits for a cause which they are hearing, and for some private Bills. The House of Commons adjourned to Friday, and on that day both Houses adjourn to the 25th, when I shall pass the Bills, and shall finally prorogue them.
In the space then of six weeks, I have secured to the Crown a decided and steady majority, created in the teeth of the Duke of Leinster, Lord Shannon, Lord Granard, Ponsonby, Conolly, O'Neil, united to all the republicanism, the faction, and the discontents of the House of Commons; and having thrown this aristocracy at the feet of the King, I have taught to the British and Irish Government a lesson which ought never to be forgotten; and I have the pride to recollect that the whole of it is fairly to be ascribed to the steady decision with which the storm was met, and to the zeal, vigour, and industry of some of the steadiest friends that ever man was blessed with.
While these anxious events were passing in Ireland, the old passion of the King for interfering with military promotions, as if he were resolved, as Mr. Grenville remarks, to absorb that branch of patronage, involved Lord Buckingham and the Cabinet in another series of protocols similar to those which passed concerning Colonel Gwynne's appointment. Another lieutenant-colonelcy had fallen vacant, and Lord Buckingham desired that it should be bestowed on his nephew, Colonel Nugent, who had been disappointed of a similar favour on the former occasion; but His Majesty directed that it should be given to Colonel Taylor. Even Mr. Grenville, who exercised a philosophical patience in these matters, was so hurt at the manner in which Lord Buckingham's wishes were passed over, at a time when he was rendering such signal services to the Crown, that he could not restrain the expression of his dissatisfaction. Writing to Lord Buckingham, he says:
I feel that I would be unworthy, not only of your confidence and affection, but of the name and character of a gentleman, if I did not warmly partake of your just resentment at this gross and unmerited offence, offered at a moment when your conduct had entitled you to so very different a line of treatment.
Lord Buckingham was again on the point of resigning, and Mr. Grenville participated so strongly in his feelings that he indicated his determination of following his example. After stating in a subsequent letter that he thought he saw in the King's mind "a strong wish to take into his own hands this piece of military patronage whenever it falls," he proceeds to observe upon the consequences.
The whole transaction gives me the greatest uneasiness, because I am not afraid to say to you, fairly and openly, that the measures to which, I fear, you may ultimately be driven in consequence of it are of a nature which I fear extremely; and that, I trust, for better reasons than any consideration of their effect on my views. It is on every account a most critical and embarrassing moment for you; and the sense which I entertain of the injustice of those who have brought you into this situation, does not remove or diminish my apprehensions of the consequences to which it leads. It is no affectation or parade of disinterestedness, but the necessary consequence of the first principles of justice and honour, when I assure you that I am resolved to follow your decision upon it, and that I consider your honour as inseparably connected with my own.