They were still more divided and embarrassed on the war with Spain. Unavoidable as it was, the Dukes of Newcastle and Bedford, Lord Hardwicke and Lord Mansfield,160 were against engaging in it; and Hardwicke, when the affirmative was decided, declared he would return no more to Council. But Lord Bute, Lord Granville,161 Lord Egremont, George Grenville, and, I think, Lord Ligonier, prevailed for the declaration of war. Lord Anson162 was ill, and the Duke of Devonshire out of town.
Yet, though the war with Spain was a popular measure, the City and the country had so mean an opinion of those who were to direct it, that the stocks immediately fell to 66½, though in the Rebellion they had never been lower than 72. The declaration from Spain luckily arrived three days after the first subscription on the new loan had been paid—yet it sunk four per cent.—three days sooner, and it would not have been paid at all.
On the 4th, war was declared. The next day came news of the reduction of Colberg, almost the last hope of the King of Prussia. Nor yet were the Ministers ready to decide, whether they would blow up the fortifications of Belleisle and abandon it, or whether they should undertake to support Portugal. They determined first to send Lord Tyrawley163 thither, while Lord Albemarle164 kissed the King’s hand for the command of the expedition, which was so often set forth and so often countermanded, and which at last laboured to sea. It was to take up troops at Martinico, and thence sail to attack the Havannah.
On the 19th the Parliament met, and the King acquainted both Houses with the new war he had undertaken; a ceremonial decorated by the Favourite himself, who, as if he had wrenched the thunderbolt out of Mr. Pitt’s hands only to wield it himself with mightier vigour, now harangued the Parliament for the first time. Every preparative of pomp, attitude, and lofty language were called in to make him worthy of himself. His admirers were in ecstacies; the few that dared to sneer at his theatric fustian, did not find it quite so ridiculous as they wished. It was enough for the former that their god was not dumb, and there was no danger that he would familiarize himself too often with the multitude. He affected to adopt parliamentary measures, and to wish that all the negotiations with Spain might be laid before them; graciously promising to beseech the King that not only papers might be produced, but that the Cabinet-councillors themselves might be permitted to divulge the opinions they had given. This was a puny piece of chicane, the Ministers endeavouring to prove that the hostilities of Spain were subsequent in date to the period in which Mr. Pitt found it advisable from their conduct to attack the Spaniards. He had early detected their league with France, and was not of a humour to weigh dates against facts, or memorials against combinations. Nor Hardwicke’s forms nor Mansfield’s subtleties could persuade the seeing part of mankind that a war at our doors ought to be treated with the same literal circumspection as an action of trespass or battery at common law.
Mr. Pitt himself, in the House of Commons, with much seeming modesty, assumed the honour that was due to his intelligence and foresight; and by disclaiming any triumph on the necessity into which the ministers had fallen of making war, asserted the right, to which his counsels had entitled him, of having pointed out the moment when the war ought to have commenced—a moment, lost by his enemies, without the benefit of having warded off the war with Spain. Lord North,165 who seconded the address of thanks for the King’s speech, had injudiciously furnished Pitt with an opportunity of vindicating his measures, calling him an abdicated minister, and violently taxing him with a fondness for new hostilities. Nothing could be more cool or artful than Pitt’s reply. It was all panegyric; all gratitude for his Majesty’s resentment of Spain’s provoking conduct, and for the caution with which he promised to engage in so large a war. In his own particular situation, he might be supposed not to like such firm, and yet such cautious measures—but he did; he heartily thanked the ministers for their caution; and meaned to conciliate unanimity, which he hoped would spread from one end of the island to the other. Himself for five years had laboured successfully—but he did not mean to pride himself that way—yet he had proved not to have been so much in the wrong as his enemies had thought; and, however Lord North had disparaged his intelligence, activity, and discernment, he hoped his successors would not be endowed with worse or less; and that the people would place confidence in the administration, whose large and wide-spread connections must be followed by confidence and favour. A poor individual like himself could have no such favour and following! He should easily have been blamed, if any slip had appeared in his conduct. Now it must be the King—it must be the Administration, the Parliament, nation, army, and navy, who were to carry on the war; and he prayed to God it might all be enough! Yet he thought us equal to the whole. However, he had not sought the Spanish war; and if it were not too much for a poor individual, for an abdicated Minister, to say, he hoped it would appear, that for five years together he had made much political court to Spain, and great persons had concurred with him in those counsels. The sacrifices he had offered would show how much he and they had been in the right; and that he had not been so haughty as was represented in rejecting Bussy’s memorial. He would never call for the papers which would exemplify the temper he had used towards Spain. If his Majesty should think they would satisfy the nation, would satisfy Europe, he knew he should appear to have had the unanimous approbation of the whole Cabinet to several of the papers he had sent to Spain. But what imported it what one man or another had thought three months before? Since that era he had received such public marks of Royal approbation, together with a pension and peerage (for his wife), as few individuals could boast. The moment was come when every man ought to show himself for the whole. I do, said he, cruelly as I have been treated in pamphlets and libels. Arm the whole! Be one people! This war, though it has cut deep into our pecuniary, had augmented our military faculties. Set that against the debt, that spirit which has made us what we are. Forget everything but the public!—for the public I forget both my wrongs and my infirmities.
Grenville told him he would have his wish: orders were given for laying before the House all the papers from the time of Bussy’s memorial. “I have no wish for their coming,” replied Pitt, “If for the benefit of his Majesty’s affairs, let them come; and if they do come, shall it be with no farther retrospect than Bussy’s memorial? How condescending is the boon! how futile! how unsatisfactory!”
Yet notwithstanding their affected alacrity for war on this occasion, the new Ministers took every opportunity of raising disgust in the nation against the late measures. Rigby, at the instigation of Fox, moved that Colonel Boyd should lay before the House of Commons the muster-roll of the Hessians, on whom he threw out many reflections, and affirmed that 9000 men were wanting out of the 22,000 which they ought to furnish. He said the muster-rolls of our mercenaries were not returned to the office of the Secretary at War; and complained that not a single order was gone to recruit the army in Germany, which ought