At that moment did a pusillanimous favourite not only make peace, relinquishing the greater and most valuable part of our acquisitions, but (what never entered into the imagination of distress and slavery itself) he purchased that scandalous peace of the envoy of a little prince, who was not even a party in the war! In short, it now came out, that a pension on Ireland of one thousand pounds a year for thirty-one years to Count Virri,331 the Sardinian Minister, through whose hands the real negotiation332 had passed, was the price and tribute of that shame which Lord Bute, by the treaty of Paris, heaped on Great Britain!
The very day on which the Favourite resigned the reins of government died the man who, of all England, would perhaps have rejoiced the most to behold that event. James Earl Waldegrave was carried off by the small-pox, April 8th. With unbounded benevolence, and of the most flowing courtesy to all men, Lord Waldegrave, whose penetration no weakness could escape, nor art impose upon, though vice he overlooked, and only abstained sometimes from connecting with black and bad men,—Lord Waldegrave, I say, had been so thoroughly fatigued with the insipidity of his pupil the King, and so harassed and unworthily treated by the Princess and Lord Bute, that no one of the most inflammable vengeance, or of the coolest resentment, could harbour more bitter hatred and contempt than he did for the King’s mother and favourite. This aversion carried him to what I scarce believed my eyes when he first showed me—severe satires against them. He has left behind him, too, some Memoirs333 of the few years in which he was governor to the Prince, that will corroborate many things I have asserted, and will not tend to make these Anecdotes be reckoned unjust and unmerciful.
Lord Waldegrave died most unseasonably for his own honour. He stood so high in the esteem of mankind for probity, abilities, and temper, that, if any man could, he might have accomplished a coalition of parties, or thrown sense into that party, which, though acting for the cause of liberty, rather wounded than served it, so ill were they formed for counsel or conduct. Had he lived still longer, he must, by the deaths of the chiefs, been placed incontestably at the head of that party himself. Indeed, but just before his illness, he was much looked up to by very different sets. Lord Bute himself had thought of him for a considerable share on his own retreat; and, but the day before Lord Waldegrave was seized with the small-pox, he had been offered the Embassy to France or Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland, both which he peremptorily declined. And yet after his death the Court boasted they had gained him,—a report much resented, and eagerly contradicted by his friend the Duke of Cumberland. But let us now turn to the opening of the new Administration.
CHAPTER XIX.
Lord Bute’s pretended abdication of business.—The “Triumvirate” (Mr. Grenville, Lord Egremont, and Lord Halifax) who succeeded him.—Character of those personages.—Grenville’s ingratitude to Lord Bute.—The memorable Forty-fifth Number of the “North Briton.”—Wilkes apprehended on a General Warrant.—Committed close prisoner to the Tower.—His spirit and wit.—His bad character.—He is taken by Habeas Corpus to the Court of Common Pleas.—His Speech.—He is discharged from confinement.—Chief Justice Pratt.—Triumph of Wilkes.—His endeavour to obtain Warrants against the Secretaries of State.—Lord Temple.—Discontent in the Cider counties.—Mortifications of the Court.—Wilkes challenged by Forbes.—Sudden Death of Lord Egremont.
The Parliament had risen on April 19th, everything being then outwardly settled. The Favourite, to give some colour to his pretended illness, and to his still more pretended abdication of business, went to drink the waters at Harrowgate; having first protested that he would neither meddle, nor offer to intercept or direct the channel of the King’s favours. Trusting to this declaration, there started up a triumvirate, who not only seemed to be, but who really thought themselves, possessed of the whole power of government. They seemed, too, to have divided amongst themselves the whole portion of the Favourite’s pride. These were Mr. Grenville, his brother-in-law, Lord Egremont, and Lord Halifax: the two latter, Secretaries of State.
Mr. Grenville334 had hitherto been known but as a fatiguing orator and indefatigable drudge, more likely to disgust than to offend. Beneath this useful unpromising outside lay lurking great abilities: courage so confounded with obstinacy that there was no drawing the line betwixt them; good intentions to the public, without one great view; much economy for that public, which in truth was the whole amount of his good intentions; excessive rapaciousness and parsimony in himself; infinite self-conceit, which produced impossibility of instructing, convincing, or setting him right; implacability in his temper; and a total want of principles in his political conduct; for, having long professed himself uncommonly bigoted to the doctrines of liberty, he became the staunchest champion of unwarrantable power. As all his passions were expressed by one livid smile, he never blushed at the variations in his behaviour. His ingratitude to his benefactor, Lord Bute, and his reproaching Mr. Pitt with the profusion of a war which he had sometimes actively supported, and always tacitly approved, while holding a beneficial place,335 were but too often paralleled by the crimes of other men; but scarce any man ever wore in his face such outward and visible marks of the hollow, cruel, and rotten heart within.
Lord Egremont336 was a composition of pride, ill-nature, avarice, and strict good-breeding; with such infirmity in his frame, that he could not speak truth on the most trivial occasion. He had humour, and did not want sense; but had neither knowledge of business, nor the smallest share of parliamentary abilities.337
Of the three, Lord Halifax338 was by far the weakest, and at the same time the most amiable man. His pride, like Lord Egremont’s, taught him much civility. He spoke readily and agreeably, and only wanted matter and argument. His profusion in building, planting, and on a favourite mistress, had brought him into great straits, from which he sought to extricate himself by discreditable means. He aimed at virtues he could not support, and was rather carried away by his vices than sensible of them.
I have mentioned Mr. Grenville’s ingratitude to Lord Bute, which implies preceding obligation. He had owed solely and entirely to Lord Bute the rich reversion of a Tellership of the Exchequer for his son. Lord Bute perhaps thought it was no light additional favour to have made over his power into Mr. Grenville’s hands. But the latter had not forgotten how contemptuously he had been set aside the last year; and, as Lord Bute by no means observed his promise of abstaining from exerting his influence at Court, it is but candid to allow that Lord Bute diminished the favour by not adhering to the terms on which he bestowed it. Be that how it would, Grenville had not sat a month at the Treasury, before, remembering the affront and forgetting the reversion, he set himself by all manner of means to lessen the profits of the other reversion which Lord Bute had procured for his own son. Thus auspiciously commenced the new administration!
As soon as it was known that Lord Bute intended to quit, Wilkes had forborne to publish his North Britons; waiting to see the consequences of the change. The tone he had given did not, however, stop. In the City they toasted to Wit, Beauty, Virtue, and Honour, ironic designations of the King, Queen, Princess Dowager, and Lord Bute. The North Briton too was soon resumed, and on the 23rd of April was published the memorable forty-fifth number, which occasioned so much trouble to the author, procured so essential a correction of loose and till then undefined power, and produced so many silly conundrums and wretched witticisms on the number itself.339 This famous paper gave a flat lie to the King himself, for having, by the Favourite’s suggestion, assumed the honour of obtaining peace for the King of Prussia.340
Nothing could be more just than the satire, nothing more bold than the unmeasured liberty with which it was uttered.341 The Prussian monarch must have read with scorn, and Europe with laughter, so absurd a boast as our vaunting to have saved an ally whom we had betrayed and abandoned. Ridicule might have handled this vain-glorious falsehood with full severity and full security, without passing the bounds which law allows. But when Parliament had connived at the treachery, could it be supposed