The same day (18th) the Militia Bill was read in the House of Lords for the second time. The Duke of Bedford, thinking the Duke of Newcastle would oppose or let it be dropped for want of time, supported it strongly. Newcastle did oppose it, but faintly, with Lord Granville and Lord Sandys, and suffered it to be committed.
Lord Halifax supported it well in the Committee; Lord Temple dared the Ministers to throw it out. Lord Granville immediately attacked it warmly, but it went through without a division.
On the 24th, Lord Stanhope spoke well on its behalf. Lord Granville again opposed it as absurd, unjust, and oppressive. He would not amend it, he said, for he disliked it; he would not be for it, because it was unamended. He would not be influenced by its having passed the Commons, or by its being popular—yet it was not popular, for often it had not been attended in the Commons by above fifteen persons; consequently had been voted in not a legal House. Lord Granville always strongly asserted the dignity of his own House of Parliament against the other.
The Duke of Bedford argued for the Bill, and affirmed that the people had only submitted to foreign forces on the promise of a Militia Bill. The Chancellor declared against it on the impracticability,—and (those who love liberty will love him for it) on its omitting the declaration of the power of the Militia being in the Crown, which had been asserted by Lord Clarendon and Lord Southampton on the Restoration. Himself, he said, had never been reckoned a prerogative lawyer, yet he would never let the prerogative be lessened with his consent.
If I have here marked out Lord Hardwicke’s memory to the indignation of free men, he might pardon me:—there are always numbers ready to admire the advocates of prerogative—Laud had his adorers; Jefferies hardly escaped them.
Lord Bath spoke for the Bill; the Duke of Newcastle against it; and it was rejected by 59 to 23.
On the 27th, the Parliament was prorogued. Old Horace Walpole was at last declared a Peer, with Mr. Villiers and Sir Dudley Rider; but the latter being taken ill on the very day he was to have kissed hands, and dying the next, the Peerage was, with much hardship, withheld from his son.
I did not mention in its place, because it falls in more properly here, that on an apprehension of an invasion in the winter, the Marquis of Rockingham, Lord Northumberland, Lord Downe and others, had offered to raise troops of Light Horse, which had been accepted; but Lord Gower proposing to the King, that instead of this scheme, the great Lords should go into their counties, and raise recruits for the Army, this plan was better liked, if not suggested, by the Duke, and carried into execution with good success. Lord Gower raised 400 men by his personal interest in Staffordshire: Lord Ilchester and his nephew, Lord Digby, were as successful in Somersetshire, enlisting the sons of many wealthy farmers, upon promise that they should not serve out of England. However, on a resolution of sending the force at Gibraltar to Mahon, it was determined to replace them with this Somersetshire regiment. Such a violation of public faith (for the recruits at least could not conceive that the brother and nephew of a Secretary of State had not authority for their assurances), created the greatest clamour; and the men were driven by force on board the transports. The consequence was very pernicious, as might have been foreseen, and will be showed. I will mention another instance of the injustice and cruelty of such breach of covenant. In the late Rebellion, some recruits had been raised under a positive engagement of dismission at the end of three years. When the term was expired, they thought themselves at liberty, and some of them quitted the corps in which they had been regimented. The Duke ordered them to be tried as deserters; and not having received a legal discharge, they were condemned. Nothing could mollify him; two were executed.
June 4th.—The Prince of Wales attained the age prescribed for his majority; by which the Regency Bill remains only a dangerous precedent of power to posterity—no longer so to us, for whose subjection it was artfully, though, by the grace of God, vainly calculated! This epoch, however, brought to light the secrets of a Court, where hitherto everything had been transacted with mysterious decency. The Princess had conducted herself with great respect to the King, with appearance of impartiality to Ministers and factions. If she was not cordial to the Duke, or was averse to his friends, it had been imputed less to any hatred adopted from her husband’s prejudices, than to jealousy of the government of her son: if the world should choose to ascribe her attention for him to maternal affection, they were at liberty; she courted and watched him neither more nor less for their conjectures. It now at last appeared that paternal tenderness or ambition were not the sole passions that engrossed their thoughts. It had already been whispered that the assiduity of Lord Bute at Leicester House, and his still more frequent attendance in the gardens at Kew and Carlton House, were less addressed to the Prince of Wales than to his mother. The eagerness of the Pages of the Back-stairs to let her know whenever Lord Bute arrived [and some other symptoms] contributed to dispel the ideas that had been conceived of the rigour of her widowhood. On the other hand, the favoured personage, naturally ostentatious of his person, and of haughty carriage, seemed by no means desirous of concealing his conquest. His bows grew more theatric, his graces contracted some meaning, and the beauty of his leg was constantly displayed in the eyes of the poor captivated Princess. Indeed, the nice observers of the Court-thermometer, who often foresee a change of weather before it actually happens, had long thought that her Royal Highness was likely to choose younger Ministers than that formal piece of empty mystery, Cresset; or the matron-like decorum of Sir George Lee. * * * * * * Her simple husband, when he took up the character of the Regent’s gallantry, had forced an air of intrigue even upon his wife. When he affected to retire into gloomy allées with Lady Middlesex, he used to bid the Princess walk with Lord Bute. As soon as the Prince was dead, they walked more and more, in honour of his memory.