1740. WILLIAM PITT (LORD CHATHAM). 19 his large wig little more was to be seen than his aquiline nose and his penetrating eye. He looked, as he was, a dying man; "yet never," adds the narrator, "was seen "a figure of more dignity; he appeared like a being of a "superior species." He rose from his seat with slowness and difficulty, leaning on his crutches and supported by his two relations. He took his hand from his crutch and raised it, lifting his eyes towards Heaven and said, “I "thank God that I have been enabled to come here this "day-to perform my duty and to speak on a subject "which has so deeply impressed my mind. I am old " and infirm — have one foot, more than one foot in the grave -I am risen from my bed to stand up in the "cause of my country-perhaps never again to speak “in this House." The reverence, the attention, the stillness of the House were here most affecting; had any one dropped a handkerchief the noise would have been heard. At first he spoke in the low and feeble tone of sickness, but as he grew warm, his voice rose in peals as high and harmonious as ever. He gave the whole history of the American war, detailing the measures to which he had objected, and the evil consequences which he had foretold, adding at the close of each period, " and so it "proved." He then expressed his indignation at the idea, which he heard had gone forth, of yielding up the sovereignty of America: he called for vigorous and prompt exertion; he rejoiced that he was still alive to lift up his voice against the first dismemberment of this ancient and most noble monarchy. After him the Duke of Richmond attempted to show the impossibility of still maintaining the dependence of the colonies. Lord Chatham heard him with attention, and when His Grace had concluded, eagerly rose to reply; but this last exertion overcame him, and after repeated attempts to stand firm, he suddenly pressed his hand to his heart and fell back in convulsions. The Duke of Cumberland, Lord Temple,' and other Peers caught him in their arms, and bore him to a neighbouring apartment, while the Lords, left in the House, immediately adjourned in the utmost con fusion and concern. He was removed to Hayes, and lingered till the 11th of May, when the mighty spirit quious friends, who put him under no constraint, who assented to every word he spoke, and never presumed to have an opinion of their own. Such seclusion is the worst of any in its effects upon the temper; but seclusion of all kinds is probably far less favourable to virtue than it is commonly believed. When Whitefield questioned Conrade Mathew, who had been a hermit for forty years amidst the forests of America, as to his inward trials and temptations, the old man quaintly but impressively replied: "Be assured, that a single tree "which stands alone is more exposed to storms than one "that grows among the rest!" * I have lingered too long, perhaps, on the character of Chatham; yet, what part of an historian's duty is more advantageous to his readers, or more delightful to himself, than to portray the departed great to hold forth their eminent qualities to imitation, yet not shrink from declaring their defects? And in spite of such defects, I must maintain that there are some incidents in Chatham's life, not to be surpassed in either ancient or modern story. Was it not he who devised that lofty and generous scheme for removing the disaffection of the Highlanders, by enlisting them in regiments for the service of the Crown? Those minds which Culloden could not subdue, at once yielded to his confidence: by trusting, he reclaimed them; by putting arms into their hands, he converted mutinous subjects into loyal soldiers! Let Rome or Sparta, if they can, boast a nobler thought! But the most splendid passage in Lord Chatham's public life was certainly the closing one: when on the 7th of April 1778, wasted by his dire disease, but impelled by an overruling sense of duty, he repaired for the last time to the House of Lords, tottering from weakness, and supported on one side by his son-in-law Lord Mahon, on the other by his second son William, ere long to become like himself the saviour of his country. such a scene even the slightest details have interest, and happily they are recorded in the words of an eye-witness. Lord Chatham, we are told, was dressed in black velvet, but swathed up to the knees in flannel. From within * See Whitefield's Journal, Nov. 27. 1739. Of 1740. WILLIAM PITT (LORD CHATHAM). 19 his large wig little more was to be seen than his aquiline nose and his penetrating eye. He looked, as he was, a dying man; "yet never," adds the narrator, "was seen ** 66 a figure of more dignity; he appeared like a being of a 66 superior species." He rose from his seat with slowness and difficulty, leaning on his crutches and supported by his two relations. He took his hand from his crutch and raised it, lifting his eyes towards Heaven and said, "I "thank God that I have been enabled to come here this "day-to perform my duty and to speak on a subject "which has so deeply impressed my mind. I am old “and infirm — have one foot, more than one foot in the grave -I am risen from my bed to stand up in the cause of my country. perhaps never again to speak "in this House." The reverence, the attention, the stillness of the House were here most affecting; had any one dropped a handkerchief the noise would have been heard. At first he spoke in the low and feeble tone of sickness, but as he grew warm, his voice rose in peals as high and harmonious as ever. He gave the whole history of the American war, detailing the measures to which he had objected, and the evil consequences which he had foretold, adding at the close of each period," and so it "proved." He then expressed his indignation at the idea, which he heard had gone forth, of yielding up the sovereignty of America: he called for vigorous and prompt exertion; he rejoiced that he was still alive to lift up his voice against the first dismemberment of this ancient and most noble monarchy. After him the Duke of Richmond attempted to show the impossibility of still maintaining the dependence of the colonies. Lord Chatham heard him with attention, and when His Grace had concluded, eagerly rose to reply; but this last exertion overcame him, and after repeated attempts to stand firm, he suddenly pressed his hand to his heart and fell back in convulsions. The Duke of Cumberland, Lord Temple,' and other Peers caught him in their arms, and bore him to a neighbouring apartment, while the Lords, left in the House, immediately adjourned in the utmost con fusion and concern. He was removed to Hayes, and lingered till the 11th of May, when the mighty spirit was finally released from its shattered frame *,— Who that reads of this soul-stirring scene—who that has seen it portrayed by that painter, whose son has since raised himself by his genius to be a principal light and ornament of the same assembly—who does not feel, that were the choice before him, he would rather live that one triumphant hour of pain and suffering than through the longest career of thriving and successful selfishness? My theme has borne me onwards, far beyond the period I had chosen, or the length I had designed; but let me now return to 1740.—Against the rising talents of Pitt, against the practised skill of the other Opposition chiefs, especially Pulteney, Barnard, and Polwarth, what had Walpole to oppose? - himself alone. His extreme jealousy of power had driven from his counsels any other member of the House of Commons, who could, even in the remotest degree, enter into competition with him. His colleagues and supporters were, therefore, only of two classes; in the first place, men of respectable character and plodding industry, but no aspiring abilities, such as Henry Pelham; secondly, men of superior talents, but for some cause or other, not clear in reputation, and looked upon as political adventurers. Of this class was Sir William Yonge, a man whose fluency and readiness of speech amounted to a fault, and were often urged as a reproach, and of whom Sir Robert himself always said, that nothing but Yonge's character could keep down his parts, and nothing but his parts support his character.† Of this class also were Mr. Winnington, and in the other House, Lord Hervey. Amongst the Peers, it is true that the Duke of Newcastle was ready, and Lord Hardwicke most able in debate; but these, as I have already shown, were by no See Seward's Anecdotes, vol. ii. (Art. Lord Chatham) and Thackeray's Life, vol. ii. p. 376-381. † Horace Walpole's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 20. The old Duchess of Marlborough observes, with her usual coarse shrewdness, "If it were "possible to have all done that I wish, nobody should go unrewarded "that deserves.. But Sir Robert seems quite of another opinion, and "never likes any but fools, and such as have lost all credit." To the Earl of Marchmont, August 29. 1740. Marchmont Papers, vol. ii. p. 233. 1740. DIVISIONS IN THE CABINET. 21 means cordially joined with Walpole upon the Spanish question. Indeed, in precise proportion as the Minister's unpopularity increased, Newcastle grew less and less friendly in his sentiments, or submissive in his tone. Numerous bickerings and altercations now arose between them. Lord Godolphin having announced his intention to resign the Privy Seal, it was the intention of Walpole to appoint Lord Hervey in his place; this, however, was warmly resisted by Newcastle, who declares in one of his letters: " Sir Robert Walpole and Pulteney are not more opposite in the House of Commons, than Lord "Hervey and I are with regard to our mutual inclina"tions to each other in our House."* Notwithstanding his murmurs, and even a threat of resignation (which Walpole well knew that Newcastle, under any circumstances, could never find it in his heart to fulfil,) Sir Robert persevered, and the appointment of Lord Hervey took place in April 1740. Another time, in conversation, the Duke wishing to reflect upon Walpole as sole Minister, muttered that, "not to have the liberty of giving one's "opinion before measures are agreed upon, is very wrong." "What do you mean?" Walpole angrily replied, "The war is yours - you have had the conduct of it—I wish "you joy of it!" On another occasion again, the expedi tions to America being discussed in Council, and it being proposed by Newcastle to send another ship of 60 guns (the Salisbury), the Prime Minister objected, and cried with much asperity, "What, may not one poor ship be " left at home? Must every accident be risked for the "West Indies, and no consideration paid to this country?" Newcastle recapitulated his reasons, but Walpole replied with still more heat, "I oppose nothing; I give into every "thing; am said to do every thing; am to answer for every thing, and yet, God knows, I dare not do what "I think right. I am of opinion for having more ships "of the squadron left behind; but I dare not, I will not "make any alteration. Let them go! Let them go!"‡ * To Lord Hardwicke, October 14. 1739. Hardwicke Papers, and Coxe's Copies. + Duke of Newcastle to Lord Hardwicke, October 25. 1740. Ibid. October 1. 1740. |