'Haughty, defiant, conscious of injury, and of supreme abilities,' he offered a great contrast to Legge, who fought by his side with different weapons; for Legge was studiously moderate, deferential, and artful; 'gliding to revenge.' Yet Pitt himself began with expressions of veneration for the King, and of gratitude for 'late condescending goodness and gracious openings,' alluding to the offer of a seat in the Cabinet. It was obvious from this that he did not mean the door of the Closet to be closed on him, or to try again to force it by attack. But, he continued, the very respect he felt for that august name made him deprecate the unconstitutional use made of it in this debate.
Egmont had argued that we were to have the Hessian and Russian mercenaries to fall back upon in case our fleets were defeated. Why if that were so, asked Pitt, did we not hire of Russia ships rather than men? The answer was simple: because ships could not defend Hanover. Must we drain, he asked, presumably in obscure allusion to Russia, our last vital drop and send it to the North Pole? We had been told that Carthage was undone in spite of her navy. But that was not until she betook herself to land operations. Carthage, too, he added, pointing directly to the enterprises of Cumberland, had a Hannibal who would pass the Alps. We were told, too, that we must assist Hanover out of justice and gratitude. As to justice, there was a charter which barred any such consideration. Gratitude was only in question if Hanover should be involved in anything which called down on her the resentment of France in consequence of any quarrel of ours. But, to speak plainly, these expressions were unparliamentary and unconstitutional. The King owed a duty to his people which should not be obscured by such phraseology. Our ancestors would never have stooped to such adulation.
Then he turned with the greatest contempt to Sir George Lyttelton: 'A gentleman near me has talked of writers on the law of Nations. But Nature is the best writer; she will teach us to be men and not to truckle to power.' As he proceeded, he slowly swelled into his famous burst. 'I, who am at a distance from the sanctum sanctorum—I, who travel through a desert and am overwhelmed with mountains of obscurity—cannot so easily catch a gleam to direct me to the beauties of these negotiations. For there are parts of this Address which do not seem to come from the same quarter as the rest. I cannot unravel this mystery. But, yes!' he exclaimed with an air of sudden enlightenment, clapping his hand to his forehead, 'I too am now inspired. I am struck by a recollection. I remember at Lyons to have been taken to see the conflux of the Rhone and the Saône. The one is a gentle, feeble, languid stream, and, though languid, of no depth; the other a boisterous and impetuous torrent. Yet they meet at last. And long,' he added, with bitter sarcasm, 'may they continue united, to the comfort of each other, and to the glory, honour, and security of this nation.'
This is all that we possess of this renowned flight and in this faint form it does not strike one as particularly impressive. But the actual words of the orator were probably very different; and nothing can preserve for us the voice, the eye, the darting accent and the concentrated fire of delivery which imparted such tremendous force to the apostrophe. In any case, the effect was instant and prodigious. After the debate Fox asked Pitt, 'Who is the Rhone?' 'Is that a fair question?' answered Pitt, for no orator likes to be cross-examined about his metaphors. 'Why,' rejoined Fox good-humouredly, 'as you have said so much that I did not wish to hear, you may tell me one thing that I want to hear. Am I the Rhone, or Lord Granville?' 'You are Granville,' returned Pitt. He meant, of course, what was true, that Fox and Granville were now practically one, and one in opposition to himself.
After this climax the notes of the remainder of the speech seem comparatively poor. By adopting these measures, he urged, we are losing sight of our proper force, the Navy. It was the Navy which, by making us masters of Cape Breton in the last war, had secured the restoration of Flanders and the Barrier Fortresses. And yet even then we had had to conclude a bad peace. Moreover, bad as it was, our Ministers had suffered such constant infractions of it that they would have been stoned in the streets had they not at last shown signs of resentment. And yet, even now, they seem to have already forgotten the cause in which they took up arms, for at present they are not acting on behalf of Britain. These treaties are not English measures, but Hanoverian. Are they indeed measures of prevention? Are they not rather measures of aggression and provocation? Will they not irritate Prussia and light up a general war? If that be the result, I will follow to the death the authors of this policy, for this is the day that I hope will give a colour to my life. And yet I fear it is useless to try and stem the torrent. Ministers evidently mean a land war, and how preposterous a war. Hanover is their only base, for they cannot gain the alliance of the Dutch. I remember, everybody remembers, when you did force them to join you: all our misfortunes are due to those daring, wicked counsels (of Granville's). Out of them sprung a ministry,' he continued, referring to the forty-eight hours phantom of Pulteney and Carteret. 'I saw that ministry. In the morning it flourished. It was green at noon. By night it was cut down and forgotten.' What if a ministry should spring out of this subsidy? It is contended, moreover, that it will dishonour the King to reject these treaties which he has concluded. But was not the treaty of Hanau transmitted to us in the same way and rejected here? If these treaties are really a preventive measure, they are only preventive of Newcastle's retirement.
Then he ridiculed Murray's elaborate compassion of the aged Sovereign. He too could appeal for commiseration of the King. He could picture him deprived of any honest counsel, spending his summer in his electorate, surrounded by affrighted Hanoverians, without any one near him to keep him in mind of the policy and interest of England, or of the fact that we cannot reverse the laws of Nature, and make Hanover other than an open, defenceless country. He too could foresee the day, within the next two years, when the King would be unable to sleep in St. James's; but that would be because his slumbers would be disturbed by the clamours of a bankrupt people.
These are all the shreds that remain of this glorious rhapsody. It would perhaps be better that nothing had survived. Each student must try and reconstruct for himself, like some rhetorical Owen, out of these poor bones the majestic structure of Pitt's famous speech.
Fox replied with obvious languor and fatigue, and the division was taken between four and five. On the first question, that the words promising assistance to Hanover should be omitted, the supporters of the Government were 311 to 105. On the second amendment, which obscurely questioned the policy of both treaties the numbers were 290 to 89. The faithful Commons were still able to be loyal to Newcastle. Against that pasteboard rock Pitt's billows broke in vain.[304]
Next day (November 15, 1755) Fox received the seals. Five days afterwards Pitt, Legge, and George Grenville were dismissed by notes from Lord Holdernesse, the colleague of Fox in the Secretaryship of State. Fox indeed declares in a letter to Welbore Ellis, then peevish at not getting a better place, that he did not know till the last moment of the intention to remove anybody but Legge.[305] To George Grenville, Bute, now beginning to show himself above ground, but still with circumspection, sent a significant note of congratulation. 'Tis glorious,' he wrote, 'to suffer in such a cause and with such companions.' Pitt received an even more gratifying communication from Temple, who settled on him a thousand a year till better times. We cannot perhaps blame Pitt for accepting this offer, since probably there was no other way of maintaining Lady Hester in decent comfort; for we may easily surmise that he had squandered his own fortune on buildings, gardens, and the like; as Temple probably knew. But we could wish that he had done so with less effusion. 'How decline or how receive so great a generosity so amiably offered.' Lady Hester, who had begun the letter of thanks, 'was literally not in a situation to write any farther.' Pitt was 'little better able to hold the pen than Lady Hester. We are both yours more affectionately than words can express. We could have slept upon the Earl of Holdernesses' letter (of dismissal). But our hearts must now wake to gratitude and you, and wish for nothing but the return of day to embrace the best and noblest of brothers.' Even this is not sufficient. Next day he must write again to say to Lord Temple, 'that I am more yours than my own, and that I equally love and revere the kindest of brothers and the noblest of men.'