Mr. Pelham’s death was unexpected; he was healthy, and not old: all men had concurred to serve under him; none had prepared any intrigues to succeed him. The King had found it comfortable to be governed absolutely, as long as the viceroy[241] over him could govern the kingdom as absolutely: being told of his Minister’s death, he said with a sigh, that could not excite much compassion, “I shall now have no more peace!”
MR. PELHAM.
London. Henry Colburn, 1846.
The Houses, who certainly were not to be consulted on the successor, adjourned themselves for a week—who should be consulted, was the question—for nobody pretended to suppose that the Sovereign was to choose his delegate himself. What was as ridiculous as this state of doubt, was the measure taken for solving it—the Duke of Devonshire was sent for—a proper dictator, had the only business of the State been to drive a nail into a wall! The event put the finishing stroke to the ridicule. In the meantime, the Lord Chief Justice Lee was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer, the forms depending on that office not admitting an interregnum. Lord Chief Justice Pratt had been supplied in like manner on the demission of Aislabie.[242]
As the temper of the age did not admit the ancient folly of that presumptuous officer called a King’s favourite; and as Ministers in late times had towered to power from ascendants gained by abilities or address in the House of Commons, it was natural for the nation to turn its eyes thither: three subjects there presented themselves before the rest, as candidates for the first Ministership; but each attended with almost insuperable difficulties: these were Fox, Pitt, and Murray. The Chancellor hated the first: the Scotch and the Law, two formidable bodies, whom Fox had wantonly and repeatedly provoked, readily listed under that banner: the Princess could not love him from his connexion with the Duke; and though he had been the ostensible second to Mr. Pelham, he had never lived upon any terms with the Duke of Newcastle: but he was the ablest man in Parliament, at least the craftiest Parliament-man, had acted steadily with the Whigs, and had in their eyes the seeming right of succession. Pitt had, or had unluckily acted, very ill health; and was now at Bath. Mr. Pelham, who had adopted him, had, however, died without removing, probably without trying to remove, his Majesty’s excommunication; and that was now allowed all its force, as Pitt had no party that wished his elevation. Murray was a Scot, and too lately been the object of clamour on the worst species of Scotch principles. The Chancellor was already jealous of him; and both Fox and Pitt would have concurred for his exclusion. He was timid himself, and always waving what he was always courting. This Gordian Knot was soon cut; and the world that had pretended to look out for a genius worthy to govern them, in six days descended from their ambition, and submitted to be ruled by no abilities at all.
Fox acted reserve and retirement, and expected to be wooed. His enemies indulged this humour, and deceived him. Stone went to him, and in Murray’s name disclaimed all emulation of that kind, that he never meant to quit his profession, that he aspired only to be Chancellor. The Chancellor on his part contributed: he sent Lord Anson to Fox, to offer reconciliation, though justifying himself on the former quarrel. Between the King and Fox several messages passed by the intervention of Lady Yarmouth. The Princess, however, expressed her dislike; and the Duke of Argyle was warm against his promotion. The late beloved Minister was in the meantime totally forgot, or only remembered by daily discoveries of the duplicity of his conduct. Even his brother, who whimpered for him like a child during the first hours, like a child forgot him, as soon as he had formed the plan of inheriting his power: and nothing tended so much to unravel the mystery of devotion which the nation had conceived for Mr. Pelham, as its appearing, that it had not been the genius of the man, but the servility of the times, which had established his authority—in a fortnight the whole country was prostrate before his brother.
The Duke of Newcastle, who for thirty years together had sapped every Administration, could not resist having courage enough to seize it for himself now it lay so exposed. A faint offer was made to the Duke of Devonshire to sit at the head of the Treasury, which he declining, on the 12th of March at night, only six days after the death of Mr. Pelham, to the astonishment of all men, yet only to their astonishment, it was settled that the Duke of Newcastle should take the Treasury, with Legge for Chancellor of Exchequer, and that Mr. Fox should be Secretary of State, with the management of the House of Commons. Those solemn personages, the Cabinet Council, were directed to offer this disposition to his Majesty, as the result of their wisdoms and opinion—an opinion, that in two days more they were reduced to disavow. The King confirmed this establishment, with this salvo to his Royalty, that Legge should never enter his closet; to so scanty a space was his kingdom shrunk! That very night Lord Hartington was sent to notify the new regulation to Mr. Fox, with this supplement, not imparted to the Council, that his Grace would reserve to himself the disposal of the Secret-Service Money, though he would always exactly communicate to Mr. Fox how it had been employed.
The next morning, the Marquis carried Mr. Fox to the Chancellor, where a reconciliation was completed; though, as this sincere man told Lyttelton and Granville, he had made peace with Fox, yet would never act in concert with him. From thence they went to the new Vizier. On opening upon terms and measures, Mr. Fox mentioned the Secret-Service Money—the Duke cut him short with saying, that his brother had never disclosed the disposal of that money, nor would he. Mr. Fox represented, that if he was kept in ignorance of that, he should not know how to talk to members of Parliament, when some might have received gratifications, others not. The Duke answered ministerially, that though he would not inform Mr. Fox, he would inform no one else. Lord Hartington ventured to urge that this was not the message on which he had been sent; and Mr. Fox pushing for further explanation, asked who was to have the nomination to places? Newcastle replied, “I myself.” Fox, “Who the recommendation?” N. “Any member of the House of Commons.” Fox then inquired into the projected measures for securing the approaching Parliament, and what list Mr. Pelham had left for composing it. The Duke said, “My brother had settled it all with Lord Duplin.” Fox replied, “Not all;” and named some unsettled boroughs. The Duke said hastily, “No, no, all was settled.” Fox said, “I will come and look over the list with your Grace.” He answered, “No, I will look it over with Duplin, and then show it to you.” They came away.
Before I prosecute this barter for power, let me make one reflection. How avowed was become the traffic for Parliaments! how extensive the breach of the constitution, since Pym and Hampden presented their bosoms to cover and close the gap! Yet what has befallen this country, but what is common to sublunary establishments? How few years had rolled away between the age of Cato’s Brutus’s, Cicero’s, and the domination of that Imperial fiddler, Nero? Within how small a period did the stock-jobber, Julianus, purchase the very Empire which Trajan had extended to its utmost limits? The auction of votes is become an established commerce, and his Grace did nothing but squabble for the prerogative of being sole appraiser.