Biographical Catalogue of the Portraits at Panshanger, the Seat of Earl Cowper, K.G.

by Mary Louisa Boyle

This threw him into association with Burke, and with the Whigs, and his stupendous Parliamentary abilities made him, before the end of the war, virtually the leader of the Opposition in the House of Commons.

In 1782 Lord Rockingham came in on the question of acknowledging the independence of America. Fox and Lord Shelburne were the Secretaries of State. Jealousies and disputes arose between the two last, and when, in a few months, Lord Rockingham died, open enmity was declared between them. The King sent for Shelburne. Fox and his supporters formed a coalition with the old war party, under Lord North. Shelburne had to resign, and Fox, much to the disgust of the King, became master of the situation, and with the Duke of Portland for nominal Prime Minister, exercised complete power. All this seems to us who live in these days very unprincipled, and though the politicians of that depraved period do not seem to have been much shocked, the general public took a different view, as was very shortly made evident.

At first Fox and North seemed to carry everything before them; but retribution was at hand. The first great measure which they brought forward was caused by the cruel and unprincipled conduct of the servants of the East India Company. It was no less a scheme than to vest the whole Government of India for four years in the hands of a Commission appointed by Parliament, or, in other words, by the Ministers who happened at the moment to be in power. A Bill to this effect passed the House of Commons almost without opposition, but by the personal influence of the King it was thrown out in the House of Lords, and Fox and the other Ministers, though they commanded an immense majority in the House of Commons, were immediately dismissed.

They must speedily have been restored to power, if the House of Commons had really represented the feelings of the people; but this was not the case, for public opinion, as I have said, had been thoroughly scandalised by the unnatural coalition between two such completely opposite parties as those of Fox and North. But in spite even of this state of public opinion, it is very doubtful if the unexampled and absolute personal ascendency which Fox had established in Parliament would not have ensured his speedy return, if another most extraordinary man had not appeared upon the scene.

This was William Pitt, at this time only twenty-three years of age. Pitt had shortly before burst forth upon the world as a full-fledged orator of the very highest order. He now assumed the lead of the Government in the House of Commons; fought battle after battle, still defeated, but steadily increasing his numbers, till he at last succeeded in arriving within one of a majority. Then, and not till then, did he dissolve Parliament, with so overwhelming a result, that he remained for many a long year in complete though not unchallenged possession of supreme power.

Fox now entered upon what was destined to be a long career of opposition. He was the acknowledged leader of the Whig party in the House of Commons. Supported by Burke and Sheridan and Windham, he waged ceaseless and desperate war against the young Prime Minister. Never, perhaps, in the whole course of our Parliamentary history was there a brighter display of eloquence than at this period, though the speakers were few in number, for this simple reason, that none but the very best speakers could obtain a hearing. Pitt and Fox towered conspicuously above these brilliant few.

This sketch would be far too long if I were to attempt to give any account, however brief, of the subjects of discussion during the next few years, nor will I pretend to say which of these great men was oftenest in the right or in the wrong. Fox, however, certainly seems to lay himself open to the charge that whatever Pitt brought forward he steadily and systematically opposed.

I will now come to the beginning of the French Revolution. This tremendous occurrence so completely filled the minds of all parties in England as to cause every other subject to be forgotten. The first news of the destruction of the Bastile seems to have been received on the whole with satisfaction, for the tyranny and corruption of the ancien régime were well known, and justly reprobated in this country. But as things went on, the upper classes began to become seriously alarmed. The Tories, of course, led the way; and the brilliant and forcible pen of Burke, the most richly gifted and learned statesman, though not the most successful Parliamentary orator, among the Whigs, expressed and inflamed the rising passion of the people. The execution of the King, and still more that of the Queen, were received with an outburst of horror and indignation. Then came the Reign of Terror. By this time there was a wild panic among owners of property. The just hatred of the cruelty which was daily being perpetrated rose to frenzy. The old national animosity against France intensified the public fury. In short, the tide of English feeling ran with such overwhelming force against everything connected with the French Revolution, as to sweep away from power and popularity every man who had in the smallest degree identified himself with any of its principles. Fox had done this. At the outset he had expressed his exultation, in his usual vehement manner, and afterwards, when others had begun to stand aghast, he in the main adhered to his opinion. Nobody inveighed more strongly against the Royal murders, and the other atrocities, but he still clung to the belief that the ultimate result would be good. He strongly opposed the interference of Europe, and particularly of England, with the internal concerns of France. He denied that there was any necessity for our going to war, and during the war he continued on every possible occasion to urge the Government to make peace. The opinion of later generations has, I think, on the whole, decided that he was right, though people are still divided upon the subject. But, be this as it may, it is impossible not to admire his conduct during these years. His once proud and powerful party was scattered to the winds. His ‘darling popularity,’ as Burke had formerly called it, altogether disappeared. Friends of long standing became estranged, and he was one who felt acutely the dissolution of friendship. Still, however, he remained firm to his principles. Session after session, though he stood almost alone, he continued to advocate his views with such masterly ability as to extort the applause even of his enemies. But at last, so hopeless did he find it to contend any more against the stream, that, though he retained his seat, he almost ceased to attend Parliament.

Fox now retired to his house at St. Ann’s Hill. He had become the most domestic of men, and in company of the only woman he ever really loved, and whom he soon afterwards married, he gave himself up to all the pleasures of literary ease. In spite of the dissipation of his youth, and the activity of his maturity, he had contrived to acquire a large amount of information, and such was the constitution of his mind, that whatever he learned he learned thoroughly. He was an accomplished and accurate classical scholar, well acquainted with modern languages, and well versed in the history and the poetry of all countries and all times. His letters at this period to his nephew, Lord Holland, throw a very pleasing light upon his pursuits and character, and enable us to a certain extent to realise the fascination which he possessed in his middle age for those who were just entering upon manhood. Every subject is treated of in turn in the easiest and most spontaneous manner; Greek and Latin authors are critically examined, and their corresponding passages compared, or a canto of Ariosto is discussed, or a couplet from one of Dryden’s plays is pointed out as capable of being happily quoted in a speech on current politics. Nor are the deeper lessons of history forgotten, nor the public events of the moment; and all this in the simple and familiar language of a man of the world, frequently illustrated by similes drawn from racing or other sport. So far is there from being any touch of pedantry or condescension, that it seems as if he was asking his nephew’s advice upon all these matters, rather than giving any opinion of his own. It was at this time he wrote his book upon the reign of James II. These years in which, as a public man, he was almost totally eclipsed, were perhaps the happiest in his life. On the rare occasions when he was persuaded by his few remaining political friends to appear in Parliament, and to make a speech, he left home with the most intense reluctance, and returned there with all the pleasure of a schoolboy at the end of the half.

After the Peace of Amiens he went to Holland and France, and was received everywhere with respect and admiration.