CHAPTER II.
Irish Parliament Prorogued.—Public Feeling.—Opening of the British Parliament.—Lord Chatham proposes an Amendment to the Address.—Debates in the House of Commons on the illegal Election of Lutterell.—Daring Conduct of Burke and Sir George Saville.—Lord Camden loses the Seals.—Dismissal of the Earl of Huntingdon.—Resignation of Lord Granby.—Charles Yorke refuses the Seals.—Death of Sir John Cust.—Acceptance and Suicide of Yorke.—Sir Fletcher Norton elected Speaker.—Disinterested Conduct of General Conway.—Motion in the Lords for an Inquiry into the State of the Nation.—Marquis of Rockingham and Lord Chatham.—The Duke of Grafton determines to Resign.—Hostile Motion of Dowdeswell in the House of Commons.—Interviews of Conway with Grafton and his Secretary.—Intrigues against the Duke of Grafton.—His Resignation and Character as a Minister.
1770.
As a question of greater magnitude had seldom been agitated than the demanded dissolution of the Parliament, the expectation of the public rose in proportion as the session approached. Not that any man supposed the King, fortified by a majority of both Houses, would listen to that petition; but in what manner he would reject the prayer of so many towns and counties, and how that rejection would be received by men who did not seem disposed to be corrected by reproof, was matter of curiosity to all, and to many a subject of deep anxiety. Before the moment arrived, it was known that the Lord-Lieutenant had prorogued the Parliament of Ireland; a motion had been made to inquire of him if he was ordered or intended to prorogue them before the usual time? He answered, that he should always be desirous of complying with their requests, when he could do it with propriety: that he did not think himself authorized to disclose his Majesty’s instructions to him upon any subject, without having received his Majesty’s commands for so doing. That with regard to his own intentions, they would be regulated by his Majesty’s instructions and by future events. Mr. Flood,[25] an able speaker, on whom Lord Townshend much depended, moved to adjourn, that they might do no business till they should receive a more favourable answer, but the proposal was rejected by a majority of 14; and the money bills arriving from England, they were passed; and then the Lord-Lieutenant prorogued the Parliament.
In England, as a signal to the hostilities that were to ensue, the petition from Yorkshire was presented to the King on the 5th with several others; but the Mayor and Corporation of Liverpool addressed his Majesty against a petition then soliciting in their town; and as a new mark that the Court party, in the City of London, were recovering ground, Alderman Harley was chosen President of St. Bartholomew’s, the first hospital in the metropolis, by 20 votes out of 22, against Beckford, though a senior Alderman and then Lord Mayor. But the want of unanimity was more noxious to the Opposition than all the efforts of their enemies. Lord Chatham’s profusion had involved him in debts and great distress; and that distress reduced him to more humane condescension than he usually practised. He sent a message to Lord Rockingham, professing high esteem, and desiring a personal interview to remove former misunderstandings, and to cement a common union between the friends of the public. The Marquis, with ill-timed haughtiness, replied, that he lived in Grosvenor Square. The Earl sent again, that being very infirm, and confined at Hayes, it would be exceedingly kind in Lord Rockingham to come thither—the same answer as before: how sensible! to war on King and Parliament, and reject almost the only ally that had any weight! Wilkes, and the popular party in the City, Lord Rockingham shunned like the plague. In the House of Lords, where he did not dare to open his mouth, and had scarce one follower that could, he pushed back the most admired orator of the age. Such was the able commander under whom the campaign opened on one side! The general on the Court side (the Duke of Grafton) did not yield to him in trifling. How confounded was the avidity with which all mankind pressed for a sight of the King’s speech, when they found not a word said on the petitions; but instead of them, a lamentation about the horned cattle.[26] The first draught of the speech had run in a style of commendation of the House of Commons: this, as too insulting, Mr. Conway had obtained to be laid aside. He did not guess that the imagination of the Duke of Grafton could furnish nothing more to the purpose, or more interesting to the public, than the distemper amongst the cattle! A preface so ridiculous could not detain men long from the serious business in question. In the Upper House, Lord Chatham, after descanting on the ambition of the House of Bourbon, turned to the election of Lutterell, and proposed an amendment of the address, to assure the King that they would immediately inquire into grievances, especially those on the Middlesex election. This motion, calculated to create a breach between the two Houses, was not agreeable even to several of the Opposition;[27] but he had drawn it himself,[28] and persisted in it, telling the House he would not have appeared but on so extraordinary an occasion. The Chancellor spoke strongly on the same side, and declared for the amendment; as did Lord Temple, Lord Lyttelton, and Lord Shelburne; the latter chiefly on the alarming posture of Europe, where we had not, could not get, an ally. The Duke of Grafton replied to the foreign part of the debate, answered for the tranquillity of Europe, and said we had not a difference there which could not easily be settled. Lord Mansfield and Lord Marchmont entered largely into the case of the Middlesex election; and the former urged, that though the House of Commons should have done wrong, a breach between the two Houses would be much more fatal. Lord Chatham replied, but with so little precision and logic, as was usual with him when reduced to argue, that Lord Denbigh and Lord Sandwich, both keen, and the former brutal enough, when his brutality to opponents would be flattery at court, ridiculed him severely; and Sandwich professed he did not comprehend what Lord Chatham had meant, and defied any single Lord to give an account of what he had said. Lord Weymouth told the Chancellor sharply, that if it was so wrong as his Lordship had urged, to incapacitate Wilkes, his Lordship ought not to have set the Great Seal to the new writ—the Chancellor could only reply that he had not read the writ.[29] At ten at night, one hundred Lords to thirty-six rejected Lord Chatham’s amendment. Lord Dartmouth conscientiously voted against his friends; the Duke of Northumberland, for popularity, against the Court.[30]
In the House of Commons, the success of the Administration was less brilliant, though their majority, as might be expected when the majority consisted of the criminals themselves, was very considerable: yet Lord Granby, swayed by Calcraft, and leaning towards Lord Chatham, who had made him commander-in-chief (though in truth he had owed something to every Ministry, and had paid them all with ingratitude),[31] balanced the credit of the victory a little by declaring he renounced and repented of his last year’s vote for the expulsion of Wilkes. Dowdeswell proposed engaging to inquire into grievances. Barré said, disregard to petitions might teach the people to think of assassination. This outrageous expression passed without censure. Lord North spoke long and well. Conway endeavoured to recover Lord Granby, and mentioned the petitions with respect. Some of the members for Buckinghamshire declared the majority in their county had been against petitioning: and Mr. Grenville, then under deep affliction for the recent loss of his wife,[32] pleaded that he had not signed the petition, that he might not take any personal share in Wilkes’s case. The Attorney-General and Norton censured the petitions, which Dunning, the Solicitor-General, defended. Rigby ridiculed them, and stated the great majority of towns and counties that had not concurred in them. The amendment was rejected by 254 against 138.[33]
But it was next day, on the report, that the great blow was aimed at and in the House of Commons.[34] Burke on the former day had attacked the House itself, and hinted that the majority was so guilty that they did not dare to take notice of the insults offered to them, and the reproaches cast on them. On the report he added, that he was conscious he had deserved to be sent to the Tower for what he had said; but knew the House did not dare to send him thither. Sir George Saville adopted and used the same language. Lord North took notice of it, but said he supposed Sir George had spoken in warmth. “No,” replied Saville coolly, “I spoke what has been my constant opinion; I thought so last night, I thought the same this morning. I look on this House as sitting illegally after their illegal act [of voting Lutterell representative for Middlesex]. They have betrayed their trust. I will add no epithets,” continued he, “because epithets only weaken: therefore I will not say they have betrayed their country corruptly, flagitiously, and scandalously, but I do say they have betrayed their country; and I stand here to receive the punishment for having said so.” Mr. Conway, sensible of the weight of such an attack from a man so respectable, alarmed at the consequences that would probably attend the punishment of him, and firm in his own irreproachable virtue, took up the matter with temper, wisdom and art, and showed the impropriety and indecency of such language; and by that address prevented Saville from repeating the provocation, and soothed the House into sober concern, before any reciprocal heat had been expressed against the offender: for though Serjeant Glynn asserted that when the House had been in the wrong, it was right to say so; and though Charles Fox replied with much applauded fire, moderation had made its impression, and a scene was avoided that might have had the most fatal termination. Not only was Sir George Saville composed and ready to provoke the whole wrath of the legislature, but had the Ministers dared to send him to the Tower, the Cavendishes, and the most virtuous and respectable of his friends, would have started up, would have avowed his language, and would have demanded to share his imprisonment. A dozen or twenty such confessors in the heart of a tumultuous capital would have been no indifferent spectacle: the great northern counties were devoted to them. Then, indeed, the moment was serious! Fortunately there were none but subordinate Ministers in the House of Commons, not one of whom chose to cast so decisive a die. The House sat silent under its ignominy—a punishment well suited to its demerits: and the sword was not called in to decide a contest in which Liberty and the Constitution would probably have been the victims. This was in effect the critical day; for though the struggle continued, and not without material convulsions, yet the apprehensions of rougher commotions wore away. Losses, dissentions, profligacy, treachery, and folly dissipated great part of the Opposition, and began
“Ex illo fluere, ac retro sublapsa referri
Spes Danaüm!”
The Duke of Richmond was struck with the violence of Sir George Saville’s behaviour, and lamented it to Mr. Conway and me. Sir George had told the Duke that it had been concerted with nobody, and that he should not repeat it every day, which would be womanish: but he was glad he had gone so far; it would convince the county of York that he had said nothing at the meeting which he would not maintain in the House. He intimated too, that if the dissolution was refused, he should go still farther—but he never did. I said, Sir George’s behaviour was the more blameable for not having acquainted his friends with his intention; he knew them to be conscientious and men of honour, knew they would not desert him; and thus had ventured embarking them without their consent: he would have been answerable for the lives and fortunes of all who might have fallen in the quarrel. His behaviour had tended to stir up insurrections, which would end in the loss of our liberties, as in the long run the Crown certainly, this King probably, would get the mastery. Could they withstand the King and both Houses? They had polled the nation, and the majority by far was against them. Not a dozen counties, and only a few boroughs, had petitioned. What strength should they have to support them? The greater part of England, all Scotland to a man, and Wales, were against them. Would Lord Chatham, would Lord Temple, would Grenville, join them, or not be the first to make their peace? I besought the Duke to mollify Sir George Saville—not to countenance him. “Good God, sir!” said the Duke, “do you think I would go into rebellion?” Mr. Conway discussed the merits of the question very ably, and showed it had ever been the usage of Parliament to incapacitate improper members. Lord Rockingham’s friends had yielded to the incapacitation, and now disputed the consequences. In a free government the minority must submit to the majority, or nothing could go on. Did it become Burke, an Irish adventurer, to treat the House of Commons with such unexampled insolence? “Do you think, my Lord,” continued Conway, “that the majority will bear to hear themselves abused daily? Do you think we are more afraid than you are? Was it come to calling names, or to cutting throats?” The Duke bore this remonstrance with great temper: he had, indeed, as I have said, been staggered at the outrage of his friends, and I believe this conversation had so much weight with him, as to promote his moderating, and consequently preventing a repetition of such hostilities.
Humiliating to the House as were the speeches of Burke and Saville, that of the Chancellor had been more inflammatory, and more provoking, as founded in law, and coming from so eminent a member of the Administration. The Duke of Grafton accused him of having made no objection to Lutterell’s admission; his friends affirmed he had; and Lord Sandwich allowed that he had reserved to himself a liberty of acting as he pleased on every question relating to Wilkes. The Chancellor’s mind certainly fluctuated between his obligations to Lord Chatham and the wish to retain his post. The Duke of Grafton’s neglect determined the scale.[35] The King’s Speech had borne hard upon the Colonies, and had not been concerted with the Chancellor. All letters to our Governors in America had promised redress; but every post was accompanied with contradictions, too: so that no officer in America knew whether he was or was not to follow his instructions; or which of his instructions was to be the rule of his conduct. The Chancellor, judging his fate determined, had taken his part with spirit. The chiefs of the law and army, disgusted, might make a dangerous schism. I persuaded Mr. Conway to interpose with the Duke of Grafton and save the Chancellor; but he found the Duke’s resolution fixed, who told him he was to see a person of consequence at night on that subject. I said, “That person is Charles Yorke, who is afraid of being seen going into the Duke’s house by day-light.” It was; but first it had been thought necessary to make Lord Mansfield the compliment of offering him the Seals, who refused them, but boasted of the offer to Sir Gilbert Elliot. The latter, dissatisfied with the Duke of Grafton (and probably both Mansfield and Elliot desirous of getting rid of the Chancellor), trumpeted the secret round the town, till it came to Lord Camden’s ears, who told the Duke he heard his fate was determined. The Duke did not deny it, and they parted civilly. Thus lost Lord Camden the Seals, valued at thirteen thousand pounds a-year. He had saved little or no money, and had four or five children. All he had obtained was a flying pension of 1500l. a-year, till his son should attain a Teller’s place, of which he had the reversion. As the pension, which was granted on Ireland, had since been included in the new tax of four shillings in the pound on absentees, it was a littleness unworthy of the sacrifice he had made to ask, as Lord Camden did, to have the deduction made up to him.