Farmer George, Volume 1

by Lewis Melville

From a painting by Wm. Hoare

THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE GRENVILLE

Indeed, Grenville possessed most of the qualities unsuitable for the First Minister of the Crown. He had the advantage of courage and ability, but was a near-sighted politician, an ungracious colleague, and a bad speaker; and, while he had a keen eye for the main chance so far as himself was concerned, was unwisely penurious for the revenue. He made an implacable enemy of the King, when the latter took in a portion of the Green Park to form a new garden for Buckingham House, by declining to purchase for the Crown at the cost of £20,000 a plot of ground, now known as Grosvenor Place, on which houses were to be built that would overlook the royal family in their private walks.[282]

The King, finding his head in a noose, made strenuous efforts to extricate himself. In April, 1763, Grenville had become Prime Minister: in July George sought the advice of Bute how to rid himself of his bête noir, and then and there made overtures to Hardwicke and Newcastle, who, however, declined to accept office without their party. After the death of Lord Egremont early in August, Bute suggested a coalition, and sent Sir Harry Erskine to Alderman Beckford to arrange a meeting between himself and Pitt. Pitt received Bute at his house in Jermyn Street, and, presumably, the conversation was not unsatisfactory, for on the 23rd inst. the King sent for him and asked him to state his views. Pitt inveighed against the ignominious peace, and complained of the compulsory retirement of the Whigs, who, if he accepted office, must be restored to power. As a matter of fact, the Whigs were not inspired with any kindly feeling towards George, who, in pursuance of his policy that he must be ruler of the realm, had inflicted on their leaders several petty slights. When the Duke of Devonshire,[283] "the Prince of the Whigs," who had declined to take part in the discussion about the peace, had called at St. James's in October, 1762, George, to mark his displeasure, had sent a message by a page, "Tell the Duke I will not see him." The Duke at once resigned his post as Lord Chamberlain, and his brother, Lord George Cavendish, retiring from the Household, was received with marked discourtesy, as was also Lord Rockingham,[284] who, remonstrating with the King for his incivility, surrendered his office in the Bedchamber. Not content with these signs of his annoyance, George struck out the Duke's name from the list of Privy Councillors,[285] deprived the Duke of Newcastle, the Duke of Grafton,[286] and Lord Rockingham, of the Lord-Lieutenancies of their respective counties, and dismissed the great majority of Whigs who held minor offices not usually vacated at a change of ministry. Even military men who voted against the Government on the question of general warrants were deprived of their commands, which was going even farther than Rigby approved[287], though the King declared, "Firmness and resolution must be shown and no one saved who dared to fly off."[288]

The King was in a quandary. He was anxious to dismiss Grenville, but at least as desirous to avoid a Whig administration which, after the indignities inflicted on the leaders, would scarcely be friendly: still, in his conversation with Pitt, he went so far as to offer to accept Lord Temple at the Treasury, and, declaring "his honour must be consulted," gave Pitt an appointment for an interview two days later. Pitt thought the matter was settled, and communicated with his friends, who were consequently elated. "Atlas has left the globe to turn on its own axis," said Charles Townshend, referring to Grenville's absence from town during these negotiations. "Surely he should be prompt when public credit labours, and he either mistakes the subject or slights the difficulty. This man has crept into a situation he cannot fill. He has assumed a personage his limbs cannot carry. He has jumped into a wheel he cannot turn. The summer dream is passing away. Cold winter is coming on; and I will add to you that the storm must be stood, for there will be no shelter from coalition, nor any escape by compromise. There has been too much insolence in the use of power; too much injustice to others; too much calumny at every turn." The hopes of the Opposition were, however, dashed to the ground, for when it came to the point, George could not bring himself to accept the Whigs en bloc, and, on the 25th inst., after Pitt had reiterated his terms, dismissed him, saying, "Well, Mr. Pitt, I see this will not do. My honour is concerned, and I must support it."

There was now no other course open to the King than to ask Grenville to remain in office, to which request the minister assented, but only after delivering to the King a lecture on the duty of a sovereign to be loyal to his recognized advisers, and extracting from him a promise that Lord Bute should never again interfere in affairs of state. Yet, in spite of this undertaking, it became known to the Prime Minister that, a few days later, Bute attempted to reopen negotiations with Pitt. Thereupon, Grenville, justly indignant, reproached the King, who promised that nothing of the sort should happen again, to which the minister replied drily that he hoped not, and forthwith set about insuring himself against further interference by insisting on Bute's retirement from London, and refusing to allow the office of Keeper of the Privy Purse, which Bute vacated, to be given to one of the latter's friends. "Good God! Mr. Grenville," exclaimed the King, "am I to be suspected after all I have done?"

The King, who made a "skilful but most dishonourable use of the incautious frankness of Pitt in the closet,"[289] contrived to sow dissension among the Whig leaders, and by these unworthy devices contrived to excite the anger of the Duke of Bedford, whom, through the instrumentality of Lord Sandwich, he, in September, 1763, persuaded to accept the post of President of the Council. About the same time Lord Shelburne,[290] who had been intriguing against Grenville, resigned the Presidency of the Board of Trade, partly because he thought he was not sufficiently considered in the ministerial councils, and partly because he very heartily hated his colleagues. It is said further that he doubted the legality of the proceedings against Wilkes, though his enemies scoffed at the idea of his having any motive so disinterested. He resigned office on September 3, and afterwards voted with Fitzmaurice, Calcraft and Barré against the Government, for which offence the King removed his name from the list of aides-de-camp, and deprived Barré of his posts of Adjutant-General of the Forces and Governor of Stirling Castle.

In spite of the unpopularity of the Duke of Bedford, which arose out of his share in the negotiations for the peace, the changes strengthened the administration, and for a while George, somewhat mollified by Grenville's attitude towards Wilkes, and being in full agreement with the ministerial policy towards America, lived in comparative harmony with his advisers. This agreeable state of affairs was soon, however, to be rudely disturbed.

The King was taken ill on January 12, 1765, and on the following day Sir William Duncan informed the Prime Minister that his Majesty had a violent cold, had passed a restless night, complained of stitches in his breast, and was bled fourteen ounces. On the 15th inst. Grenville went to the King, and "found him perfectly cheerful and good-humoured, and full of conversation," after which date no one saw the King, not even his brothers, and it was not until March that Lord Bute, who in the interval had pressed to see him, was admitted for the first time to his presence.[291] The King was suffering from mental derangement, but such were the precautions taken, that this was not known beyond the Palace:[292] the illness was declared to be the outcome of cold and fever, and this announcement, when the confinement threatened to be lengthy, was supplemented by the statement that a humour, which should have appeared in his face, had by unskilful treatment been allowed to settle on his chest. The public anxiety was not assuaged by these bulletins, and, convinced that something was being withheld, jumped to the conclusion that the King was in a consumption. So well was the secret kept that Nicholls wrote in 1819, "I know it has been said that his illness was a mental derangement, but I do not believe it";[293] and Wraxall about the same time remarked, "George the Third was attacked by a disorder that confined him for several weeks; relative to the nature and seal of which malady, though many conjectures and assertions have been hazarded, in conversation, and even in print, no satisfactory information has ever been given to the world."[294] Even George Grenville was in ignorance of the nature of the disorder. At the beginning of March there was a marked improvement in George's condition, and when Grenville saw him on the 18th inst. he noted "the King's countenance and manner a good deal estranged, but he was civil and talked upon several different subjects;" and a week later, when he was again admitted to the royal presence, he "found his Majesty well to all appearance."[295] On April 5, completely recovered, the King held a levée.

It has been hinted that the first traces of mental derangement had shown themselves in June, 1762, when Lord Hardwicke informed Lord Royston, "I fear his Majesty was very ill, for physicians do not deal so roughly with such patients without necessity." "It is amazing and very lucky that his Majesty's illness gave no more alarm, considering that the Queen is with child, and the law of England has made no provision for government when no king or a minor king exists," Henry Fox noted. "He goes out now, but he coughs still; and, which no subject of his would be refused or refuse himself, he cannot or will not go to lie in the country air; though if there was ever anything malignant in that of London since I was born, it is at this time."[296] Walpole, too, heard of the trouble, though he, like the rest, was in ignorance of the nature of the malady, but he was perturbed by the lack of any measure for carrying on the government in the event of the King's illness or demise. "Have you not felt a pang in your royal capacity?" he wrote on June 20, 1762. "Seriously, it has been dreadful, but the danger is over. The King had one of the last of those strange and universally epidemic colds, which, however, have seldom been fatal. He had a violent cough and oppression on his breast which he concealed, just as I had; but my life was of no consequence, and having no physicians-in-ordinary, I was cured in four nights by James's powders, without bleeding. The King was blooded seven times and had three blisters. Thank God, he is safe, and we have escaped a confusion beyond what was ever known, but on the accession of the Queen of Scots."