In London, the Duke’s death was deeply felt; and when the orders for mourning were issued, which, according to usage, were as for an uncle, and regulated by the late shorter ceremonial, the middling and lower people almost universally went into the closet mourning with weepers, and wore it for the whole time that had been customary before the contraction enjoined in the late reign. An attempt was made for a subscription to raise a statue to his memory, but without success:[180] and the new area in Berkeley Square being destined for the place, Adam,[181] a Scotch architect, defeated the project, from the hatred which his nation bore to their conqueror, by proposing to erect a statue[182] of his Majesty on that very spot, a compliment his Majesty too willingly accepted, and which became ridiculous by the King himself being at the expense. The Duchess of Bedford, then at Bath, distinguished her animosity as absurdly, by wearing slighter mourning for the Duke than that prescribed by the Court.
The Administration was not without difficulties with regard to the Courts of Versailles and Madrid, who delayed to demolish the fortifications of Dunkirk, to liquidate the payment on the Canada Bills, and to settle the ransom of the Manillas. But though the new Ministers were more in earnest in their attempts to obtain all these ends than their predecessors had been, the ignominy of not obtaining them lay heavier on the latter. They it was who had sacrificed so much glory and advantage to the two Courts—at least all of them had concurred with Lord Bute in that paltry Peace; and when they had retained so small a portion of our conquests, and stipulated for such slight indemnifications, on them it lay to have secured at least the accomplishment of such poor terms. Indeed they had not dared to use a vigorous tone to either Court; for could the Ministers of Louis or Charles believe that those men would seriously undertake a war for trifles, who had sacrificed so much to purchase a Peace that they might have dictated? They accordingly had hoped that they should wheedle the two Courts to save them from the reproach of having accepted fallacious conditions, rather than attempted to call loudly for execution of the Treaty. The new Ministers had less to fear in speaking out. They had nothing to manage for their own sakes; and if the nation was not in a situation or a temper to go to war for the violation of the Peace, they were not answerable for the measures that had reduced us to such a state of timidity. It would be glorious to them to extort what the peacemakers had not dared to insist on; or baffled, the shame would lie at the door of their predecessors. Our Ministers, therefore, at Versailles and Madrid were ordered to make the demands with spirit. The Duke of Richmond, though he had concurred in the Peace, wanted no alacrity to enforce the terms of it. He had had little or no connection with the late Administration, had never been favourably looked on at Court, had no predilection for Lord Bute, and now entered with warmth into alliance with the Ministers. Though possessed of the Dukedom of Aubigné, he was far from having any partiality to France: and having naturally a high and national spirit, he was ready to hold as firm a language as the Administration could choose to authorize. In truth, his friends apprehended that he would be more likely to embroil the Courts than to relax in following his instructions. Yet young, inexperienced, and high-souled as he was, no man could conduct himself with more prudence and temper. Though he negotiated with obstinacy, he bore the flippancy and evasions of the Duc de Choiseul with admirable patience, neither betraying the honour of the Crown, nor exposing it to any unwarrantable contestations. In the short period of his embassy he performed an essential service by his resolution, quickness, industry, and perseverance. It is almost sufficient to say, that he settled one point of his negotiation and was unwelcome to that Court: a proof that he neither temporized too far, nor was over-reached by men of larger experience. On his way to Paris he passed purposely by Dunkirk. The Duke of Cumberland had disapproved of that visit. “My Lord,” said the Prince, “Dunkirk is not worth going to war for: if you do not visit it, you may say it is destroyed; you cannot after seeing it with your own eyes.” This implied that his Royal Highness was convinced France did not mean to destroy it. As I had arrived at Paris before the Duke of Richmond, I had learnt the desperate situation of their finances, and was witness to the disturbances occasioned to their Government by the active spirit of their Parliaments. I had written to Mr. Conway on these grounds, to advise their authorizing the Duke to talk big to the French Court, who, from the causes I have mentioned, were less in a situation than we were to recommence war. Mr. Conway heartily approved my views. The Duke had more doubts, but yielded to my reasons when he came over and found the soundness of my intelligence. The measure succeeded to my expectation. The Duc de Choiseul consented at last to settle the affair of the Canada Bills. Our merchants at home had blundered in their calculation, and asked less for themselves than they were entitled to. Sir John Lambert,[183] an English banker at Paris, pointed out the error to the Duke, who, with amazing quickness, himself discovered a method of obtaining, within twelve thousand pounds, a full indemnification for them. The French Court yielded to this new demand.[184] I persuaded the Duke to conclude the negotiation without any new transaction with our merchants at home, lest the readiness of the French should cool; and I urged him to ratify the agreement on the authority of three letters from Mr. Conway, who pressed to finish the bargain, and enjoined him to threaten the French Ministers that he (Conway) would represent it to Parliament, if they did not do us justice. The Duke doubted whether, having put the business into a new train, he could justify concluding it without again consulting the merchants. I persuaded him to despatch a courier to Mr. Conway, to say he would conclude, but not to specify in his public letter the error of the merchants, lest the Court of France should get intelligence, and repent of their facility.
With regard to Dunkirk, nothing was to be obtained. Choiseul told the Duke of Richmond that the late Ministers had not been so difficult. “But,” said the Duke, “before I came away, I saw in the Secretary’s office a strong letter to your Court on the subject of Dunkirk.” “True,” said Choiseul, “but it was not written till after Lord Halifax knew he was to be turned out.” This indiscretion flowed from Choiseul’s natural levity, not from any intention of hurting our late Ministers, whose fall he regretted, and on whose complaisance[185] he could better build than on men who had loudly condemned the Peace. Still was France not alarmed while Mr. Pitt remained without power. Their dread of him existed in all its force. To judge of it, one should have seen, as I did, the efficacy of his name to change their countenances and language. One day at dinner with the Duc de Praslin, when Mr. Pitt was accidentally mentioned, the Duc, with visible marks of alarm, asked if Mr. Pitt was coming into place again? And it is true that when any Frenchman gave a loose to their natural presumption before me, I had no occasion but to drop a careless hint that he was likely to be again employed, to strike silence through a whole company.[186]
One other point obtained by the new Ministers was a mutual exchange of envoys between England and Prussia, their first intercourse of communication since the war. Mitchell, destined for that embassy, was created a Knight of the Bath.[187] Count Malzahn came hither from Prussia.
November the 5th, Lord Camden, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, decided in that court the great cause between Wilkes and the Secretaries of State, in favour of the former.[188]
Terrick, Bishop of London, set himself to prosecute mass-houses, with what view I know not; for though noways blameable in his morals, zeal for religion by no means entered into the composition of the man. Ambition, creeping upwards by little intrigues, formed his whole character. Perhaps he thought this activity might be one step to the primacy. He had not much chance under the new dispensation.[189] The Duke of Newcastle, whose fears had surmounted his passion for the first rank in power, had told the King that he would content himself with making bishops in concert with the archbishop. Content or not, he had waived the Treasury, and Lord Rockingham, become First Minister by accepting it, was too fond of power not to engross all he could. It was a proof how old Newcastle was grown, when he bore this pre-eminence without jealousy or treachery.
Lord Rockingham had been advised, seeing the present Parliament had been chosen by Lord Bute, and recruited by Grenville, not to trust to it, but to dissolve, and call a new one; and that measure was for some time in deliberation. For his own interest he would have acted wisely, no doubt, in taking the advice; but he at last rejected the proposal, saying, that in so factious a time it would produce unheard of corruption. The sentiment was laudable, but neither faction nor corruption has decreased since that time.[190]
CHAPTER XI.
Meeting of Parliament.—Debates on the Stamp Act and the state of North America.—Death of Prince Frederick, the King’s youngest brother.—Walpole’s Observations upon the state of France at this period.—Death of the Dauphin.