CHAPTER VI.
King’s Speech.—Debates on the impending War.—Speeches of Barré and Lord Barrington.—Imprudent Declaration of the Latter.—Opposition of Wilkes to the system of Pressing.—Curious Conduct of Sir Walter Blacket.—Motion for Papers on the Falkland Islands, in both Houses, rejected.—News from Spain.—Alleged want of Preparation of England.—Intemperance of Charles Fox and the Duke of Richmond.—Lord Chatham attacks the Administration in the House of Lords.—Preparations for War.—Lord Mansfield delivers a Copy of his Determination in Woodfall’s Trial.—Remarkable Scene.—Members of the Lower ejected from the Upper House.—Debate on Lord Mansfield’s Paper.—Abruptly Terminated.—Why not Resumed.—Debate on the Ejection of the Commons.—Duel between Governor Johnstone and Lord George Sackville.—Instance of Scotch Nationality.—Resignation of Lord Weymouth.—Observations on his Character and Conduct.—Opinion of Francés the French Resident.—Downfall of the Duc de Choiseul.—Its Causes.—The Duc D’Aiguillon and the Parliament of Bretagne.—Persecution of La Chalotais.—Treachery of the Prince of Condé.—The Duc retires to Chanteloup in Touraine.
1770.
The King’s speech to both Houses affected firmness, though it betrayed a want of it; for, though it blustered, and called the Falkland Islands the possession of his Crown, and promised not only to support the just rights and interests of his people, but went so far as to say he would not disarm till convinced of the sincerity of other powers (meaning France); yet, by imputing the seizure of the Isle to the Governor of Buenos Ayres, as if not authorized by the Crown of Spain, it openly presented an excuse which the King of Spain might make, if he would be so good as to condescend so far. Nor could the suspicion dropped against the sincerity of France avail much; they knew our Court too well to misinterpret our real disposition. As the Opposition was more in doubt what part the Ministers did actually intend to take, and as Mr. Grenville’s death prevented the appearance of the Lords Temple, Chatham, and Lyttelton, little was said in either House, except a few words by Lord Rockingham and the Duke of Richmond, the former of whom seemed rather to approve war, as did the complexion of both Houses. Lord North spoke prudently, but confessing he did not think the Falkland Islands an adequate occasion of war. Colonel Barré attacked the Ministers on their neglect (and, indeed, the lapse of a year since the first advice of Spain’s hostile intentions was the great blemish of the business); they had, he said, wasted three years in hunting down a wretched scribbler, (Wilkes,) while all the world knew that Gibraltar and Ireland were defenceless (a most indiscreet avowal at the eve of a war!) He did not know who advised in military matters, yet he knew who did not, though so very proper; but that person, (Conway,) he heard, had retired from the Cabinet Council. “Yes,” cried he, correcting himself, and turning towards Lord Barrington, “I know who has sometimes commanded” (alluding to the slaughter in St. George’s Fields). The contemptible description of Wilkes was in consequence of Lord Shelburne’s plan of annihilating that demagogue, against whom Parson Horne was now waging open, though anonymous, war in the newspapers. The Court had soon afterwards the satisfaction of seeing them worry one another in print by name.
Barré’s attack called up Lord Barrington, who uttered the most improper, the most impertinent, and most offensive speech, in every light, that could be conceived. He did not know, he declared, an officer in England fit to be commander-in-chief. Could any man name one to him? where was any such man? if there was, if anybody would point him out, he would recommend him to his Majesty. “It was said,” continued he, “in Queen Anne’s reign, that Dr. Ratcliffe and an old woman could cure an ague; so, the Adjutant-General (General Harvey) and he (Barrington) could make the best commander-in-chief.” Disgraceful as such a declaration was, if true,—indiscreet to make to the enemy, a war approaching,—indecent to the Duke of Gloucester, who was sitting in the gallery,—to General Conway, on whom all eyes turned, as on one on whom the choice would of course fall,—and insolent as it was to all our other Generals; yet had not absurdity dictated this public affront to the army—an affront offered by the Secretary at War. Knowingly, nay artfully, had the dirty little creature exposed himself to so much resentment. He knew, in short, that the King was jealous of the command of the army; that he trusted to its attachment against any violence from his subjects; that he would not confide even in his devoted brother, nor in the integrity (because founded on constitutional principles) of General Conway. It was an officious declaration that commander-in-chief there was to be none; it was an indirect method of saving the King the pain, or rather the blush, of refusing the command to his brother; and the King’s ensuing silence, and his continued favour to Barrington, left no doubt but the zeal was kindly accepted.[115] The offence grated the chief officers, men of renowned bravery and service, such particularly as the Generals Amherst and Monckton. Lord Waldegrave and General Howard took up the affront warmly without doors, and happy was the officious tool to escape without a personal quarrel. It was not, perhaps, the least part of his elaborate indecency, that, had a war ensued, the soldiery might have been impressed with contemptuous ideas of their leaders; but servility cares not how much it sacrifices national interest when pursuing its own. General Harvey, the King’s real confidant in military business, pretended to lament that Lord Barrington had pointed him out as responsible for the army—a modesty calculated to enforce the impression.
In consequence of Wilkes’s opposition to pressing, Brass Crosby, the new Lord Mayor, one of his most steady partisans,[116] consulted Lord Chatham on the legality of that practice. That lord, not apt to discountenance any measure that tended to carry on war against the House of Bourbon, recommended to the magistrate to consult Dunning, Glynn, and Wedderburne. To his queries, whether the Admiralty were authorized to issue press warrants of themselves, or under the direction of the Privy Council; whether the warrant annexed was legal; and whether the Lord Mayor was compellable to back those warrants, and at what risk if he refused; the three lawyers replied, that the practice was warranted by length of time and national defence, and even in some cases by the legislature; that it had been noticed in courts of law, and without reproof; and that they saw no objection to its being executed by the Admiralty under the direction of the Privy Council; that the form of the warrant did indeed to them seem very objectionable, but that for that very reason the sanction of the magistrate was the more requisite to check and control the abuse; and therefore, though they did not deem the Lord Mayor compellable to sign the warrant, nor liable to punishment for refusing, they referred it to his Lordship’s prudence, whether for the peace of the City and preservation of the subject, he would not conform to the practice of most of his predecessors on such occasions.
This decision not being satisfactory to the party, the City chose to bestow premiums on voluntary enlisters; in which they were followed by Bristol, Edinburgh, and a few other towns. At the same time another remonstrance to the King was voted by the Common Council, though not unanimously, and was presented on the 21st by the Lord Mayor, attended by Trecothick, Townshend, Oliver, Stephenson, and a few more. His Majesty told them, that having seen no cause to alter his opinion expressed in his former answer, he could not comply with their request to dissolve the Parliament.
A strange incident, though of no consequence, deserves to be mentioned, as it will show what deep impression the temper of the times had made on an honest mind, though the general corruption of the age had regarded the constitutional considerations lately agitated, as questions of interest rather than of principle. Sir Walter Blacket, a rich independent gentleman, had, though a Tory, voted the last year that Wilkes was capable of sitting as member for Middlesex,—a vote he had probably given against his opinion to secure his popularity at Newcastle, a town not less remarkable than London or Lynn for its attachment to liberty and to the cause of Wilkes. Sir Walter appeared suddenly in the House of Commons, and rising, à propos to nothing, with much perturbation, told the House that he had laboured under extreme anxiety of mind and repentance for the vote he had given in favour of Wilkes; that he had had no peace since—had gone abroad for his health—was that moment returned, and, getting out of his chaise, would not wait an instant till he had satisfied his conscience; that he hoped this declaration would be for ever remembered, and that the resolution against Wilkes would never be cancelled,[117]—a delicacy of conscience that did honour to the penitent; but, good God! how weak are men, when priests and the partisans of power can infuse such sentiments into their devotees in favour of arbitrary government; and when sense, self-preservation, and tenderness of their posterity’s security, cannot instil equal compunction into those who betray the common rights of mankind! Sir Walter’s scruples were regarded as the effects of a weak head and sick body: Lord Mansfield, Wedderburne, Norton, and an hundred more, were men of strong understandings, and never repented. Even cowardice could not amend the first. He went so far in the coldest fit of his panic as to order a new trial of the printer of Junius, because the jury had inserted the word only in their sentence, pretending it implied a discordance in their verdict.
On the 22nd of November, the Duke of Richmond moved the Lords to address the King for copies of all papers relating to the seizure of the Falkland Islands. Lord Weymouth objected, pleading that the negotiation was actually pending; the demand might, in a week, be proper. Lord Chatham, who supported the motion, turned his fire chiefly against the opposers of pressing, and declared that if any lord would move it, he would second him for bringing to the bar of the House the Alderman who had obstructed the practice. Lord Hillsborough, who was a pompous composition of ignorance and want of judgment,[118] told the House most indiscreetly, that he had seen the Spanish papers, and would venture to say that we should have full satisfaction in three days. The Duke of Richmond (so little connection was there in the Opposition) declared against pressing. Provoked at this contradiction, and glad of an opportunity of worrying inferior capacity, Lord Chatham, at whose desire the motion had been made, broke out against Lord Hillsborough and against the Opposition too. To revenge himself on the Duke, he spoke of the Opposition with contempt, and told them, that though the Ministers might do wrong, their opponents were too weak to force them out of place; that for himself he was connected with nobody (a needless declaration, as all men saw); that he despised popularity, and was not likely, from his age or inclinations, ever to be Minister again (the latter, a fruitless declaration, that all men disbelieved). Of Lord Hillsborough he said, that all our present misfortunes were owing to his tyranny and ignorance; and that, except Lord Rochford, not one of the Ministers had seen six weeks of business before they were raised to the first employments in the State. Gibraltar, he declared, was so weak, that the Spaniards might walk into it when they pleased, and then into England; and that there were not above eleven ships manned in our service. In the City, he said, there was a malevolent party who did nothing but mischief (meaning Wilkes and his adherents—a tribute he paid to his friend, Lord Shelburne); and he abused the rich men there and the Asiatic opulence of Leadenhall Street,—men who thought of nothing but obtaining commissaryships and commissions of remittance; and with his usual pretensions to intelligence, offered to bet a thousand pounds that Spain had already struck some important blow,—an insinuation (though unfounded) that gave an alarm as if Gibraltar were already taken. In answer to the charge on the Ministers of inexperience, Lord Weymouth reminded him that his Lordship himself, and his friend, Lord Shelburne, and ally, Lord Rockingham, had stood in the same predicament of ignorance of business, when they appeared at the head of affairs; and he told the Duke of Richmond, who had threatened their heads, that if the Opposition had no mercy, he would at least confide in their justice. Lord Lyttelton said he was so sensible of our unprovided situation, that he was afraid even to express his fears. Lord Shelburne was severe on the Duke of Grafton. Lord Sandwich boasted of enjoying and liking to enjoy the smiles of the Court, which all Ministers, he said, had ever sought to possess, except a late detestable and insignificant set. Lord Rockingham, at whom the arrow was levelled, asked, if Lord Sandwich and his friends had possessed the smiles of the Court when they were turned out for their insolence on the Regency Bill? At eight at night the motion was rejected by 61 to 25.