Farmer George Volume Ii Part 3

Overtures were made to the "Bloomsbury Gang," but without any real effectual result, for, though one or two of the minor members joined the Government, the Duke of Bedford held aloof.

A king, however, has no difficulty in securing adherents, and George collected such as could be induced to rally round his standard into a body that called itself the King's Friends. "Ministers are no longer the public servants of the state, but the private domestics of the sovereign," Junius thundered. "One particular cla.s.s of men are permitted to call themselves _the King's Friends_, as if the body of the people were the King's enemies: or as if his Majesty looked for a resource or consolation in the attachment of a few favourites against the general contempt and detestation of his subjects. Edward and Richard the Second made the same distinction between the collective body of the people and a contemptible party who surrounded the throne." Unfortunately for George, all reputable parliamentarians belonged to some party already existing, and, as Sir George Trevelyan has put it admirably, "The only recruiting ground that was left open to his Majesty's operations lay among the waifs and strays of politics; among the disappointed, the discontented and the discredited; among those whom Chatham would not stoop to notice, and Newcastle had not cared to buy; and out of such material as this was gradually organized a band of camp-followers promoted in the ranks, at the head of which no decent leader would have been seen marching through the lobby."[64]

[64] Trevelyan: _The Early Life of C. J. Fox_.

The immediate _entourage_ of the Court was, as we have seen, composed of quiet, respectable persons; and the King, who realized that the majority of those politicians who placed themselves at his disposal did so entirely for the sake of the emoluments and honours that majesty could bestow, had little or no personal intercourse with his adherents.

Indeed, because of this want of personal relation Lord Carlisle declined the post of Lord of the Bedchamber. "I have no reason to expect, however long I may continue, that either by a.s.siduity, attention and respect, I can ever succeed to any kind of confidence with my master," he wrote.

"That familiarity which subsists between other princes, and those of their servants whose attachment they are convinced of, being excluded from our Court by the King's living so much in private, damps all views of ambition which might arise from that quarter." Lord Winchelsea, indeed, did accept such a post, but reluctantly and in a manner that irritated the King, who wrote to Lord North. "I cannot say I am quite edified at Lord Winchelsea's not in reality liking his appointment, though out of duty he accepts of it. I remember the time when an amba.s.sador would have thought that honour a reward for ability and diligence during a long foreign mission. However, it will teach me one lesson, never again to offer it, but to wait for applications."[65]

[65] _Correspondence of George III with Lord North._

The majority, however, were content with the loaves and fishes, and probably had no desire to be on intimate terms with the monarch, except for such benefit as might accrue from such friendship. This was particularly fortunate, for while the King was highly respectable and moral, the high officials of his Court included some of the most desperate _roues_ of the day and might have furnished examples for a preacher whose text was, "The wicked flourish like a green bay tree."

The Earl of March,[66] Wordsworth's "Degenerate Douglas," and an avowed profligate, was a Lord of the Bedchamber for twenty-eight years under eleven successive Prime Ministers; another Lord was, after a time, according to Trevelyan, judged too bad to remain even in the Bedchamber, and was accordingly packed off to Virginia as its Governor; and the Keeper of the Great Wardrobe was Lord le Despencer, one of the notorious Medmenham monks. More respectable morally, however, were the King's spokesmen in the House of Lords and the House of Commons, Lord Eglington,[67] and "Mungo" Dyson.[68] The latter, however, was a political "Vicar of Bray" and had lost the regard of all reputable statesmen by the facility with which he changed his opinions whenever it was to his advantage to do so. When he entered Parliament he was supposed to hold anti-monarchical views, but he was at the time in the pay of Bute; later he posed as a supporter of Grenville, but deserted him for the King. It was shortly after this desertion that he a.s.sumed a bag-wig instead of a tye-wig, whereupon Lord Gower cleverly remarked that the change was doubtless made "because no tie would hold him."[69]

Such was the material with which a King, who prided himself upon his honesty and morality, chose to work.

[66] Afterwards fourth Duke of Queensbury.

[67] Alexander Montgomerie, tenth Earl of Eglington.

[68] In the farce of "Padlock," Don Lorenzo asks his black servant Mungo, "Can you be honest?" to which Mungo replies, "What you give me, Ma.s.sa?" Barre, who was present, promptly nicknamed Jeremiah Dyson "Mungo," and by this designation he was henceforth known.

[69] Albemarle: _Memoirs of Rockingham_.

"'Tis very true, my sov'reign King, My skill may weel be doubted; But facts are chiels that winna ding, And downa be disputed.

Your royal nest, beneath your wing, Is e'en right reft an' clouted; And now the third part of the string, An' less, will gang about it Than did ae day.

Far be't frae me that I aspire To blame your legislation, Or say, ye wisdom want, or fire, To rule this mighty nation!

But, faith! I muckle doubt, my Sire, Ye've trusted ministration To chaps, wha, in a barn or byre, Wad better fill'd their station Than courts yon day."[70]

[70] Burns: _A Dream_.

For some time before he resumed office Lord Chatham had been far from well, and he was in no condition to conduct the delicate negotiations incidental to the formation of a ministry: the conferences in which he had to take part, he told his wife, heated his blood and accelerated his pulse. Soon after his administration came into power, ill-health drove him into seclusion at Bath. "Lord Chatham is here with more equipage, household and retinue, than most of the old patriarchs used to travel with in ancient days," Gilly Williams wrote to George Selwyn. "He comes nowhere but to the Pump Room. There he makes a short essay and retires."

The King was much disturbed at this unexpected defection of his princ.i.p.al supporter, and great was the discomfiture of the ministers at being deprived of their leader. It came as a great relief to sovereign and colleagues alike when, after a considerable interval the news came that the Earl had fixed a day for his arrival in London.

The joy was premature, however, for though Lord Chatham duly left Bath, when he reached Marlborough he shut himself up in his rooms at the _Castle Inn_, and remained there for some weeks, declining to see even the Duke of Grafton, who had offered to visit him. "It is by no means practicable for me to enter into the discussion of business," he wrote to the Duke on February 22, 1767.[71] When at length he did arrive in the metropolis, matters were in nowise improved, for he still refused to receive any one. It was a curious position: "the nation had for some years beheld, or thought it descried, a real minister behind the curtain, who interposed his credit without holding an office. Here was the reverse--a minister in whose name all business was transacted, but who would exercise no part of his function."[72]

[71] _Chatham Correspondence._

[72] Mary Berry: _Journals_.

In vain the King offered to visit him at North End, when, he declared, he "would not talk of business, but only wanted to have the world know that he had attended him";[73] and equally fruitless were the Duke of Grafton's renewed appeals for an interview. The Earl had not even the energy to use a pen, and the replies were written by his wife. "Your duty and affection for my person, your own honour, call on you to make an effort," the King persisted in a letter on May 30. "Five minutes'

conversation with you would raise the Duke of Grafton's spirits, for his heart is good. Mine, I thank G.o.d, wants no rousing. My love to my country, as well as what I owe to my family, prompt me not to yield to faction. Though none of my ministers stand by me, I cannot truckle."[74]

On receipt of this, Lord Chatham yielded, and consented to see the Duke on the following day, and the meeting had the result of averting the threatened resignation of the latter, who, however, found it impossible to discuss business with the Prime Minister, whose nerves and spirits were too affected to permit of a lengthy discussion. "So childish and agitated was his whole frame," Walpole has stated, "that if a word of business was mentioned to him, tears and tremblings immediately succeeded to cheerful, indifferent conversation."[75] He was indeed entirely incapacitated, and his recovery was very slow. "Lord Chatham's state of health (I was told authentically yesterday) is certainly the lowest dejection and debility that mind or body can be in," Whately wrote on June 30. "He sits all day leaning on his hands, which he supports on the table; does not permit any person to remain in the room; knocks when he wants anything, and, having made his wants known, gives a signal without speaking to the person who answered his call to return."[76]

[73] _Chatham Correspondence._

[74] _Chatham Correspondence._

[75] _Memoirs of George III._

[76] Phillimore: _Life of Lyttelton_.

Though the Prime Minister was willing to resign, George III implored him to retain at least the semblance of power. "Your name has been sufficient to enable my administration to proceed," he wrote;[77] for he was fearful lest he should be compelled to receive Grenville again. "The King owned," says Walpole, "that he was inclined to keep Lord Chatham, if capable of remaining in place, _having seen how much his government had been weakened by frequent changes_. He wished that things might remain as they were, at least till the end of the session, when he might have time to make any necessary alterations. At his _levee_, his Majesty asked James Grenville aloud, how Lord Chatham did? He replied 'Better.'

The King said,'If he has lost his fever, I desire to be his physician, and that he would not admit Dr. Addington any more into his house. He shall go into the country for four months; not so far as Bath, but to Tunbridge.' He repeated the same words publicly to Lord Bristol, everybody understanding that his Majesty's wish was to retain Lord Chatham."[78]

[77] _Chatham Correspondence._

[78] "I think I have a right to _insist_ on your remaining in my service; for I with pleasure look forward to the time of your recovery, when I may have your a.s.sistance in resisting the torrent of factions this country so much labours under."--George III to Lord Chatham.

So long as Lord Chatham was ill, the King enjoyed the support, such as it was, of his name, but soon after his recovery, on October 12, 1768, the Earl tendered his resignation, and although George begged him to withdraw it, he declined to do so. He was, indeed, very angry, for the measures carried by the administration that bore his name were in direct opposition to the principles of which he was the champion. Even so early as January 2, 1768, in a private letter to the Earl, "Junius" had informed him of this. "During your absence from administration, it is well known that not one of the ministers has either adhered to you with firmness, or supported, with any degree of steadiness those principles on which you engaged in the King's service. From being their idol at first, their veneration for you has gradually diminished, until at last they have absolutely set you at defiance." When this arrived Lord Chatham was still too ill to take up the matter; but when, some months later, the Duke of Grafton informed him that the ministry had carried through Parliament a Bill for a tax on American imports, we may well believe with Jesse that the "astonishment of Rip Van Winkle when he awoke from his long sleep in the Katskill mountains, or of Abou Ha.s.san when he found himself in the couch of the Caliph Haroun Abraschid could scarcely have exceeded that of Lord Chatham."[79] Even then he was not well enough to take any action, but as soon as his health was restored he promptly severed all connexion with those who had betrayed him.

[79] _Memoirs of George III._

[Ill.u.s.tration: _From a portrait by Battoni_

AUGUSTUS HENRY, DUKE OF GRAFTON

_To face p. 61, Vol. II_]

During the illness of his chief, the leadership had devolved on the Duke of Grafton, who is to-day best remembered by the terrific attacks made upon him by "Junius", who declared "the Duke of Grafton's heart was the blackest in the kingdom." He had abandoned Rockingham, he had abandoned Wilkes, and eventually he had abandoned Chatham, though in relation to the last he made an effort, as strenuous as could be expected from one always infirm of purpose. Nicholls has told us how those who wished to destroy the Chatham administration, realized that they would almost certainly attain their object if they could separate the Duke from the Earl. They won over to their views the Duke's secretary, Bradshaw, and endeavoured also to corrupt the Duke's mistress, Nancy Parsons.[80] With the latter, however, they had no success. "She had the sense to see that the Duke's honour required him to remain firm in his connexion with the Earl of Chatham. She had the sense to see this; and she had the integrity to tell him so. Her influence for some time prevented the Duke of Grafton from deserting the Earl of Chatham. When this was seen, those who wished the destruction of that administration changed the direction of their batteries; instead of using their efforts to separate the Duke of Grafton from the Earl of Chatham, they employed them to separate him from his mistress. In this they succeeded, and married him to Miss Wriothesley, the niece of the d.u.c.h.ess of Bedford.[81] To separate him from the Earl of Chatham was then an easy task."[82]

[80] Nancy Parsons subsequently married Lord Maynard, an event duly chronicled by an anonymous pamphleteer in "A Letter to a Celebrated Young n.o.bleman on His Late Nuptials," 1777. "I will not on this occasion pay your Lordship so bad a compliment as to enumerate Lady Maynard's charms; all the world knows them as well as yourself; her virtues you alone are acquainted with."

[81] His first wife having divorced him, he married a daughter of the Rev. Richard Wriothesley.

[82] Nicholls: _Recollections, Personal and Political_.

The Duke of Grafton, like Lord Rockingham, was a man of pleasure, happier with his dogs and his books than in political life;[83] and he would rather have abandoned politics than his mistress, to whom his attachment was notorious, although, according to "Junius," she was at this time, "a faded beauty," and according to Walpole, "one of the commonest creatures in London." It seems that she had influence over him, and he was certainly proud of the connexion. "He brings everybody to dine with him," Lady Temple has recorded. "His female friend sits at the upper end of his table; some do like it, and some do not. She is very pious, a constant Church-woman, and reproves his Grace for swearing and being angry, which he owns is very wrong, and, with great submission, begs her pardon for being so ill-bred before her." He appeared with her at Ascot, and even at the Opera when the King and Queen were present, a piece of bad taste that gave "Junius" an opening, of which he was not slow to avail himself. "If vice could be excused, there is yet a certain display of it, a certain outrage to decency, a violation of public decorum which, for the benefit of society, should never be forgiven," wrote the great satirist. "It is not that he kept a mistress at home, but that he constantly attended her abroad. It is not the private indulgence, but the public insult of which I complain. The name of Miss Parsons would scarcely have been known, if the First Lord of the Treasury had not led her in triumph through the Opera House, even in the presence of the Queen. When we see a man act in this manner we may admit the shameless depravity of his heart, but what are we to think of his understanding?"[84]

[83] "The account of the Cabinet Council being put off--first for a match at Newmarket, and secondly because the Duke of Grafton had company in his house--exhibits a lively picture of the present administration."--George Grenville to Whately, October 20, 1767.

[84] Letter signed "Philo-Junius," June 22, 1769.

The Duke undoubtedly intended to pursue the policy of Lord Chatham, but, falling under the influence of the King--who was willing enough to forgive, for his political ends, such a flagrant insult to his consort as that narrated above--it so happened that whenever the ministry moved it was in the opposite direction to that which the Earl would have desired.

CHAPTER XVI

THE KING'S RULE

The Duke of Grafton as a matter of course now became Prime Minister, but there were not wanting signs that the administration would not long endure, and when Lord Chatham reappeared in the political arena it was obvious its days were numbered. The famous statesman's return was most unexpected, for he was still supposed to be in the country, incapable of ever again transacting business.[85] "He himself," wrote Walpole on July 7, 1769, "_in propria persona_, and not in a straight-waistcoat, walked into the King's _levee_ this morning, and was in the closet twenty minutes after the _levee_." At his interview Chatham told George that he disapproved of the policy of the ministry, especially as regarded Wilkes and America--a statement calculated to alarm the King, who approved of the action taken. "For my part," said the Earl, "I am grown old, and unable to fill any office of business; but this I am resolved on, that I will not even sit at Council but to meet Lord Rockingham. He, and he alone, has a knot of spotless friends, such as ought to govern this kingdom." As he emerged from the Royal Closet, Chatham encountered Grafton, and, embittered especially by the remembrance of the dismissal of his personal friend, Sir Jeffrey Amherst, from the post of Governor of Virginia, greeted him with the utmost coldness. It was to be war to the death, and Chatham was too great a man to veil his enmity under the cloak of friendship.

[85] "At length the clouds which had gathered over his mind broke and pa.s.sed away. His gout returned, and freed him from a more cruel malady.

His nerves were newly braced. His spirits became buoyant. He woke as from a sickly dream. It was a strange recovery. Men had been in the habit of talking of him as of one dead, and, when he first showed himself at the King's _levee_, started as if they had seen a ghost. It was more than two years and a half since he had appeared in public."--Macaulay: _The Earl of Chatham_.