Lord Chatham, His Early Life and Connections

by Earl of Archibald Philip Primrose Rosebery

'Had it not, on the contrary, been diminishing for years, till now we were brought to the very brink of a precipice where, if ever, a stand must be made? Were we ourselves within the House to try and lessen that dignity when such attacks were made upon it from without that it was almost lost? On the contrary, it wanted support, for it was scarcely possible to recover it.' He appealed to the Speaker (Onslow) with profuse compliments, for the Speaker only could restore it—yet scarcely even he. Then he eloquently adjured all Whigs to rally and unite in defence of their liberties, which were attacked, nay, dying, 'unless,' he passionately added, 'you will degenerate into a little assembly serving no other purpose than to register the arbitrary edicts of one too-powerful subject;' laying an emphasis on the words 'one' and 'subject' that might well send a shudder to the soul of Newcastle, when the echo should reach him. He ended by a recapitulation as to 'our being likely to become an appendix to—I know not what: I have no name for it.' 'All,' adds Fox, 'whether pleased or displeased, declare this speech to be the finest that ever was made.'[269] The effect of this sudden menace in the midst of the Duke's comfortable arrangements to appease and silence everybody, was appalling. It came with the shattering effect of a shell, and a shell falling in some quiet picnic. The Ministers were in consternation; every member sat confounded. Murray, pale and miserable, shrunk his head in silence. Wilkes used to narrate his dread, as he heard the awful tone of Pitt's exordium, lest the thunder that he saw was gathering should fall on him. Never, he said, when at Westminster School had he felt greater terror when summoned for a flogging, never when let off a greater relief than on this occasion; terror when uncertain where the bolt would fall, relief when he found it was destined for another.[270] Fox himself only came in as Pitt was finishing, just in time to witness the devastation which had been caused. Legge, on the part of the Government, had to rise and humbly deprecate the wrath of the orator.

Pitt allowed no respite. On the same evening a discussion arose as to the dates on which the various petitions would be taken. That relating to Reading was fixed for a particular day, and that for Colchester on a day soon afterwards. Pitt moved the postponement of the Colchester petition; as the Reading one would take time, and concerned a noble lord, Lord Fane, for whom he had a particular regard. A malignant fate here tempted the new Secretary of State to a needless and unhappy intervention. He declared that the Reading petition would be a short case, and, so far as concerned the sitting member, a poor case; that Lord Fane had only a majority of one.

This gave Pitt his opportunity, and he soundly trounced the unfortunate Minister. What did Sir Thomas know about it? It was ignorant presumption to lay down the law about a case which had not been heard. If this was the method of the Minister, there would be short work with elections. He himself had little thought to see so melancholy a day as this, but he was not to be taught his duty by Sir Thomas or any one else. Sir Thomas replied, 'with pomp, confusion, and warmth,' to deprecate the misleading effects of mere eloquence. He hoped that words would not be allowed more than their due weight. For his own part, he was performing the duties of an office which he had never desired. Pitt in his rejoinder affected to believe this last statement, with the unkind commentary that if anybody else had wished for the post, Sir Thomas would not have had it. Then, artfully cooling down, he showed that he was only aiming at Newcastle, for he professed the highest respect for Sir Thomas with this cruel, backhand blow at the Duke, 'that he thought him, Sir Thomas, as able as any man that had of late years filled that office, or was likely to fill it.' Fox could no longer resist joining in the sport of baiting his hapless leader. He also could only explain and excuse Sir Thomas's pronouncing hastily and summarily on a case which he had not heard by his long residence abroad, and by his consequent and total inexperience of parliamentary matters.

It was clear that neither of the formidable lieutenants was in the least appeased, or likely to contribute to the tranquillity of the session. Still it was also clear that the members of the House were loyal to Newcastle and his deputy, and that they were not moved from their allegiance by the oratory to which they had listened. But when the display was over, the frightened ministerialists gathered into small groups whispering their terrors to each other. Pitt's fury breaking out at this moment might be due, thought Fox, in some measure to accident. 'But break out I knew it would. And the Duke of Newcastle may thank himself for the violence of it (he) having ... owned to Pitt that he had acquainted the King with part of their last conversation; adding, like an idiot, "to do you good, to do you good," and that he had not mentioned that part which could do him harm.'[271] We do not know what is the interview to which this refers; it can hardly be that which occurred at the beginning of October in which Pitt had said, 'Your Grace, I suppose, knows that I have no capacity for such things.' So we are at a loss to know the immediate cause of Pitt's outbreak, though no divination is required to know that ever since Pelham's death he had been explosive.

Nothing can better illustrate the extraordinary power which Newcastle wielded in the House of Commons than the dumb terrified fidelity of the great majority who clung to his knees in spite of the attacks of Pitt and Fox. Hapless majority! They had neither voice nor faith; they despised almost equally their nominal chief Robinson, and their real chief Newcastle; so they huddled together for warmth and sympathy. And this was a House of Commons produced by a general election carried on under the auspices of a consummate manipulator and by long years of cozening, patronage, and corruption. The success had been complete, a devoted and passive majority had been returned, and this was the result. It was a strange and instructive spectacle. This docile flock was shepherdless, it was not thought to need any superintendence, it had only to receive its instructions from Newcastle through the channel of some such agent as Robinson. What Newcastle thought well to give, it was prepared gladly to take. Could Minister want more? Yet, before the session was a fortnight old, Newcastle was to learn, but not completely, the futility of such a scheme of government. He had promised the King that the new House of Commons would need no leader, that indeed the position of leader of the House of Commons was both dangerous in power and superfluous in practice. He was yet to learn that there was something more formidable; a ship without captain or helmsman, and two loose cannon banging about at large.

For, two days after the annihilation of Robinson, Pitt again took the field, this time against Murray, the most formidable antagonist that he ever had to face after the resignation of Walpole. It was on the vote for the army. Barrington and Nugent had made fulsome speeches, dwelling on the popularity of the King and the Ministry, declaring, indeed, that there were no Jacobites in England. People, said Nugent, sometimes reared those whom they thought would be Jacobites, but who turned out very differently. So had he seen in his rural retirement a hen, which had hatched duck's eggs, watch with apprehension her nurslings betake themselves to the water. Pitt rose and declared with solemn pleasantry that this image had greatly struck him, 'for, sir, I know of such a hen.' The hen, it appeared, was the University of Oxford. This, we think, in its demure unexpectedness, is the best stroke of humour in all his speeches. But he begged the House not to be sure that all she hatched would ever entirely forget what she had taught them. Then followed an innuendo at old Horace Walpole which is immaterial and obscure. Sir Roger Newdigate, whose name is still cherished by budding poets, rose, as member for the University, to make a meek defence. Pitt rose again, and told 'inimitably' the story of a recent adventure at Oxford. He was with a party at the Angel Inn, one of whom was asked to sing 'God save Great George our King' (one can hardly imagine that it was Pitt who called for this). The chorus was re-echoed by undergraduates outside who had been attracted by the song, 'but with additions of the rankest treason.' Then walking down the High Street he examined a print in a shop window of a young Highlander in a blue ribbon, and was shocked to read the motto Hunc saltem everso Juvenem. This Latin prayer was a flagrant proof of the disloyalty of that learned body. 'In both speeches every word was Murray; yet so managed that neither he nor anybody else could or did take public notice of it, or in any degree reprehend him. I,' it is Henry Fox who speaks, 'sate next Murray, who suffered for an hour.'[272] Two episodes seem to attach themselves to this terrible onslaught. One is the famous and dramatic menace. Fixing his eyes on Murray the orator paused and proceeded: 'I must now address a few words to Mr. Solicitor.—They shall be few, but they shall be daggers.' Murray's agitation was now visible. 'Judge Festus trembles,' thundered Pitt; 'well, he shall hear me some other day,' and sat down.[273] Murray could not muster a reply. We may be sure that he then mentally resolved that, whether Festus or not, he would be a Judge as soon as possible. Yet Granville had embraced him that very day and bid him pluck up resolution. The other episode is this. Foote went with Murphy (afterwards Editor of the 'Test') to hear Pitt, who happened to be putting forth his full powers in an attack on Murray. 'Shall we go home now?' asked Murphy at last. 'No,' replied Foote, 'let us wait till he has made the little man vanish entirely.'[274]

The plan of ignoring the House of Commons and keeping all power in a junto of two or three, or even one, was already breaking down. 'It is the universal opinion,' writes Fox, in the same letter as that in which he describes Pitt's onslaught on Murray, 'that business cannot go on as things are now, and that offers will be made to Pitt or me. On this subject Pitt was with me two hours yesterday morning. A difficultNov. 27, 1754. conversation.' Difficult indeed, for both parties fenced with each other, and neither was sincere. Pitt had long distrusted Fox and his connection with Cumberland. We have seen that in March he was writing confidentially that he wished 'to see as little power in Fox's hand as possible,' and again in the same letter, 'Fox is too odious to last for ever.' On the other hand, Fox, who was genial but ignoble, was determined to take the best place that offered, with a secret leaning to the lucrative possibilities of Pitt's office. Fox was not in error as to the offers. He wrote on November 28, and on November 29 Newcastle was beginning to seek assistance. On that morning the King sent for Fox and treated him with friendly confidence. It then appeared that the royal leaning towards Fox was caused by the King's having found out that Frederick Prince of Wales had made overtures to Fox, who had rejected them, but had not divulged them for the purpose of paying court to the King.[275]

The object of the Court was to separate Fox and Pitt. This last, doubtful and suspicious, had at first assured the Chancellor and Newcastle that he would not league with Fox. This was probably the secret of the Minister's confidence. But when Pitt realised that the Duke was trading on the division between his two formidable auxiliaries he sought, or appeared to seek, an honest and hearty co-operation with his rival.[276]