The Duke of Gloucester, of as fair complexion, as short sighted, of worse health, but of a more manly form, was a Prince of a very different disposition. Reserved, serious, pious, of the most decent and sober deportment, and possessing a plain understanding, though of no brilliancy, he was of all his family the King’s favourite, though admitted to no confidence, intimacy, or credit. An honourable amour which totally engrossed him, and of which I shall have occasion to speak hereafter, preserved him from the irregularities into which his brothers Edward and Henry fell, and which the severity of confinement in which they were held by their mother until they attained the age of twenty-one, did much excuse.
Henry Duke of Cumberland, though not tall, did not want beauty, but with the babbling disposition of his brother York, he had neither the parts nor the condescension of the latter; familiarizing himself with bad company, and yet presuming on a rank which he degraded, and, notwithstanding, made an annoyance. His youth had all its faults, and gave no better promises.
In the room of Charles Townshend, Lord North, son of the Earl of Guilford, was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer. He had sound parts, wit, and, it was thought, industry; an ungracious manner, a voice untuneable, and a total want of polish in his behaviour. He had been an active and ready agent in the whole cause against Wilkes, and was not a man that the friends of the Constitution could regard with partiality: but there were so few upright, that it was become almost eligible to select the exceptionable, in order to lessen confederacies amongst those whose union would be formidable should they return to power in a body. Lord North’s (supposed) application and facility of access repaired in some degree the negligence and disgusting coldness of the Duke of Grafton.[41]
At my return from France, where I had perceived how much it behoved us to be on our guard against the designed hostilities of that Court, as soon as their finances should enable them to renew the war, I laboured to infuse attention to our situation. We not only had little intelligence, but scarce suspicion. Our safety rested alone upon our fleet. No care was observed in watching the intercourse between the two kingdoms. The French, under pretence of curiosity, grown fashionable amongst them for the first time, resorted hither in considerable numbers. They visited the counties; and, under colour of studying commerce and manufactures, familiarized themselves with our weakness. Except Portsmouth and Plymouth, we had not a fortification in South Britain that could afford us time to recover from the panic of the first successful invasion. A few of the new travellers even visited Ireland—no subject of curiosity, if political reasons were out of the question. It was there, I did not doubt, but the first storm would burst. In vain I painted over and over this our defenceless situation; I could raise no attention, or at most was told we were not in a condition to do anything great. Methought it was just the position in which a great man would have attempted to exert genius—it was more true that we had no great man.
We had small bickerings with both France and Spain; but as we made no hurry to amend our circumstances, they took the leisure we afforded to recruit theirs. In the mean time the busy ambition of the Duc de Choiseul was preparing from a distance a general conflagration. France having refused the title of Imperial Majesty to the Czarina, her Ambassador, Prince Gallitzin, received orders to quit Paris in a fortnight. As she intermeddled in the affairs of Poland (which come not within my plan), the Duc de Choiseul intrigued at Constantinople till he poured an army of Turks into Russia; but that scene was not yet opened. Portugal and Spain quarrelling about some American possessions, the former seized Rio Grande. This was thought a desperate act of Ocyras to involve us in their protection; or, if we abandoned them, as an excuse for leaning towards the family compact. His subsequent conduct was so little favourable to our trade, that the conjecture seemed not unfounded.[42]
Mr. Conway grew impatient to give up the profits of the Seals. The Duke of Grafton and Lord Hertford disapproved it; but I drew them into consent by asking them, before him, whether, if he got a regiment, he would keep the salary of Secretary of State, of the Ordnance, and of Colonel, at once? He said, Certainly not; nor could they encourage him to keep all three. On this it was agreed he should immediately sacrifice the income of his place: he did; generously begging the King to bestow five hundred pounds out of it on the clerks of the office, which was granted. Such noble disinterestedness shut the mouths of Opposition, but did not open any in commendation,—an indication, that, however corruption was censured in this age, it was envy, not disapprobation of the practice, that raised clamour.
Lord Townshend, the new Lord-Lieutenant, was favourably received in Ireland. He carried with him the consent of the King that the Judges there should hold their places, as in England, quamdiu se bene gesserint. Impatient to acquire popularity, he notified this grace in his speech to that Parliament, though he had been positively instructed not to mention it in that place, only to promise it in private. Lord Mansfield and the lawyers here censured this conduct warmly, as a direct breach of Poyning’s law. The Chancellor being dead, and no successor appointed, (for Sewell[43] the Master of the Rolls refused it, nor would any great lawyer here accept the post without an additional pension, which Conway and others opposed,) the Irish Speaker, Lord Shannon,[44] and Tisdall[45] the Attorney-General, who aspired to that great seal, all acquainted Lord Townshend that there would be a motion of complaint that no Chancellor was appointed. Lord Townshend represented the indecency of such a step, and exciting the King’s servants to oppose it, the others promised to stop what they had secretly instigated. The alarm, however, caused the Government at home to send over for Chancellor Judge Hewet, an able lawyer, but much despised for his deficiency of parliamentary talents. Trifling as this first success was, it was the greatest service which the Lord-Lieutenant rendered to the Government. Obstinate against advice, thirsting for low popularity, and void even of decorum, he soon lost all consideration. Drunkenness and buffoonery, unsupported by parts or policy, rendered him the scorn even of the populace. That he might exempt himself from the reproach of whatever in his instructions was disagreeable to the Irish, he spoke of himself as entrusted with no power; and giving a loose to his own turn for caricature, he drew ridiculous pictures of himself in ignominious attitudes with his hands tied behind him; thus shunning opposition by meriting contempt.[46]
At home there appeared no symptoms of dissatisfaction among the people. The patrons of general warrants were still the only obnoxious persons. The Court, profiting of that disposition, exerted a little authority, the King dismissing the Earls of Buckingham[47] and Eglinton, who were devoted to the Grenvilles, from his bedchamber. They were succeeded by the Duke of Roxburgh[48] and Lord Bottetort.
On the 24th of November the Parliament met. The Duke of Bedford and Lord Lyttelton talked much against the Ministers and the outrages of the Americans. In the other House Dowdeswell observed that the King in his speech the last session had mentioned the encouragement of commerce, but took no notice now of having given any. He proposed to add to the address words that should give that encouragement. He asked, too, if the Ministers had any plan for lowering provisions, the dearness of which were become a capital grievance. Conway answered, No: he could not find that any man could point out such a method of reduction. The Manilla ransom having been mentioned, he wished, as the affair was pending, the House would not meddle with it. He had already, he said, received favourable answers on that subject. Himself was now accused of neglecting that business; formerly he had heard a minister (Grenville) pleading for Spain against the captors. Burke spoke with great and deserved applause, chiefly on the dearness of provisions; to remedy which, he said, if Ministers could form no plan, it would teach the people to undervalue Parliament.[49] He dwelt, too, on the discontents of the nobility—a new topic in a popular assembly! Wedderburn spoke well, too, and with greater acrimony. Conway, he said, when in Opposition, had been one of the loudest to censure the neglect of recovering the Manilla ransom, now had done nothing in it. Had been violent on being turned out; now Lord Buckingham and Lord Eglinton, very respectable men, had been dismissed. This philippic was coldly received, and the amendment rejected without a division. Grenville then, to mark that he had not and would not support Dowdeswell’s motion, rose with affected coolness, but betraying how much he was hurt. He had declared, he said, in the summer, that he desired no place; his friends knew he desired none. The King, he thought, had better keep the present Ministry than change so often. That the whole state of our affairs was not laid before Parliament: himself had in his pocket a Boston Gazette inciting the people to rebel. The governor there had no power to punish the printer. Himself had been much misrepresented in libels. Conway, too, had misrepresented him; he supposed, if by forgetfulness, would recant. It was but six months after the peace when Conway had attacked him on the affair of Manilla; now three or four years had elapsed. He offered to read the Spanish answer, but if he did, desired not to be called an advocate for Spain. He would appeal to the Spanish Ambassador if he had ever given up that ransom.
Nothing could be less justly founded than Grenville’s complaint of libels. Himself wrote one on American affairs, in which Lord Rockingham and Conway were treated with contempt and bitterness. His friend, the Dean of Norwich,[50] Thomas Pitt, and Rigby, not to mention his brother Lord Temple, dabbled continually in that way. Rigby had even revised Almon’s last political register, in which was an account of the conference between the Duke of Bedford and Lord Chatham at Bath.