The Impeachment of the House of Brunswick

Lord Waldegrave, who wrote in favor of George II., admits that the King "is accused by his ministers of being hasty and passionate when any measure is proposed which; he does not approve of." That "too great attention to money seems to be his capital failing." And that "his political courage seems somewhat problematical." Philli-more says: "In public life he was altogether indifferent to the welfare of England, except as it affected his Electorate's or his own. Always purchasing concubines, he was always governed by his wife. In private life he was a gross lover, an unreasonable master, a coarsely unfaithful husband, an unnatural parent, and a selfish man."

No more fitting conclusion can be found to this chapter than the following pregnant words from the pen of Lord Macaulay: "At the close of the reign of George II. the feeling of aversion with which the House of Brunswick had long been regarded by half the nation had died away; but no feeling of affection to that house had yet sprung up. There was little, indeed, in the old King's character to inspire esteem or tenderness. He was not our countryman. He never set foot on our soil till he was more than thirty years old. His speech belayed his foreign origin and breeding. His love for his native land, though the most amiable part of his character, was not likely to endear him to his British subjects. He was never so happy as when he could exchange St. James's for Heranhausen. Year after year our fleets were employed to convoy him to the Continent, and the interests of his kingdom were as nothing to him when compared with the interests of his Electorate. As to the rest, he had neither the qualities which make dulness respectable, nor the qualities which make libertinism attractive. He had been a bad son and a worse father, an unfaithful husband and an ungraceful lover. Not one magnanimous or humane action is recorded of him; but many instances of meanness, and of a harshness which, but for the strong constitutional restraints under which he was placed, might have made the misery of his people."

CHAPTER IV. THE REIGN OF GEORGE III

When George II. died, his grandson and successor, George III., was twenty-two years of age. The Civil List of the new King was fixed at £800,000 a year, "a provision," says Phillimore, in his "History of England," "that soon became inadequate to the clandestine purposes of George III., and for the purchase of the mercenary dependents, on the rapport of whom his unconstitutional proceedings obliged him to depend." The Civil List of George III. was not, however, really so large as that of her present Majesty. The Civil List disbursements included such items as Secret Service, now charged separately; pensions and annuities, now charged separately; diplomatic salaries, now forming distinct items; fees and salaries of ministers and judges, now forming no part of the charge against the Civil List. So that though £924,041 was the Civil List of George III. four years after he ascended the throne, in truth to-day the Royal Family alone get much more than all the great offices and machinery of State then cost. The Royal Family at the present time get from the country, avowedly and secretly, about one million sterling a year.

"At the accession of George III.," says Thackeray, "the Patricians were yet at the height of their good fortune. Society recognized their superiority, which they themselves pretty calmly took for granted. They inherited not only titles and estates, and seats in the House of Peers, but seats in the House of Commons. There were a multitude of Government places, and not merely these, but bribes of actual £500 notes, which members of the House took not much shame in assuming.. Fox went into Parliament at twenty, Pitt was just of age, his father not much older. It was the good time for Patricians."

A change of political parties was imminent; Whig rule had lasted seventy years, and England had become tolerably disgusted with the consequences.

"Now that George II. was dead," says Macaulay, "a courtier might venture to ask why England was to become a party in a dispute between two German powers. What was it to her whether the House of Hapsburg or the House of Brandenburg ruled in Silesia? Why were the best English regiments fighting on the Maine? Why were the Prussian battalions paid with English gold? The great minister seemed to think it beneath him to calculate the price of victory. As long as the Tower guns were fired, as the streets were illuminated, as French banners were carried in triumph through London, it was to him matter of indifference to what extent the public burdens were augmented. Nay, he seemed to glory in the magnitude of those sacrifices which the people, fascinated by his eloquence and success, had too readily made, and would long and bitterly regret. There was no check on waste or embezzlement. Our commissaries returned from the camp of Prince Ferdinand, to buy boroughs, to rear palaces, to rival the magnificence, of the old aristocracy of the realm. Already had we borrowed, in four years of war, more than the most skilful and economical government would pay in forty years of peace."

The Church allied itself with the Tories, who assumed the reins of government, and thenceforth totally forgot the views of liberty they had maintained when in opposition. The policy of all their succeeding legislation was that of mischievous retrogression; they sought to excel the old Whigs in their efforts to consolidate the aristocracy at the expense of the people.

"This reactionary movement," says Buckle, "was greatly aided by the personal character of George III.; for he, being despotic as well as superstitious, was equally anxious to extend the prerogative, and strengthen the Church. Every liberal sentiment, everything approaching to reform, nay, even the mere mention of inquiry, was an abomination in the eyes of that narrow and ignorant Prince. Without knowledge, without taste, without even a glimpse of one of the sciences, or a feeling for one of the fine arts, education had done nothing to enlarge a mind which nature had more than usually contracted. Totally ignorant of the history and resources of foreign countries, and barely knowing their geographical position, his information was scarcely more extensive respecting the people over whom he was called to rule. In that immense mass of evidence now extant, and which consists of every description of private correspondence, records of private conversation, and of public acts, there is not to be found the slightest proof that he knew any one of those numerous things which the governor of a country ought to know; or, indeed, that he was acquainted with a single duty of his position, except the mere mechanical routine of ordinary business, which might have been effected by the lowest clerk in the meanest office in his kingdom.

"He gathered round his throne that great party, who, clinging to the tradition of the past, have always made it their boast to check the progress of their age. During the sixty years of his reign, he, with the sole exception of Pitt, never willingly admitted to his councils a single man of great ability: not one whose name is associated with any measure of value, either in domestic or foreign policy. Even Pitt only maintained his position in the State by forgetting the lessons of his illustrious father, and abandoning those liberal principles in which he had been educated, and with which he entered public life. Because George III. hated the idea of reform, Pitt not only relinquished what he had before declared to be absolutely necessary, but did not hesitate to persecute to death the party with whom he had once associated in order to obtain it. Because George III. looked upon slavery as one of those good old customs which the wisdom of his ancestors had consecrated, Pitt did not dare to use his power for procuring its abolition, but left to his successors the glory of destroying that infamous tracle, on the preservation of which his royal master had set his heart. Because George III. detested the French, of whom he knew as much as he knew of the inhabitants of Kamschatka or Thibet, Pitt, contrary to his own judgment, engaged in a war with France, by which England was seriously imperilled, and the English people burdened with a debt that their remotest posterity will be unable to pay. But, notwithstanding all this, when Pitt, only a few years before his death, showed a determination to concede to the Irish a small share of their undoubted rights, the King dismissed him from office, and the King's friends, as they were called, expressed their indignation at the presumption of a minister who could oppose the wishes of so benign and gracious a master. And when, unhappily for his own fame, this great man determined to return to power, he could only recover office by conceding that very point for which he had relinquished it; thus setting the mischievous example of the minister of a free country sacrificing his own judgment to the personal prejudices of the reigning sovereign. As it was hardly possible to find other ministers who to equal abilities would add equal subservience, it is not surprising that the highest offices were constantly filled with men of notorious incapacity. Indeed, the King seemed to have an instinctive antipathy to everything great and noble. During the reign of George II. the elder Pitt had won for himself a reputation which covered the world, and had carried to an unprecedented height the glories of the English name. He, however, as the avowed friend of popular rights, strenuously opposed the despotic principles of the Court; and for this reason he was hated by George III. with a hatred that seemed barely compatible with a sane mind. Fox was one of the greatest statesmen of the 18th century, and was better acquainted than any-other with the character and resources of those foreign nations with which our interests were intimately connected. To this rare and important knowledge he added a sweetness and amenity of temper which extorted the praises even of his political opponents. But he, too, was the steady supporter of civil and religious liberty; and he, too, was so detested by George III., that the King, with his own hand, struck his name out of the list of Privy Councillors, and declared that he would rather abdicate the throne than admit him to a share in the government.

"While this unfavorable change was taking place in the sovereign and ministers of the country, a change equally unfavorable was being effected in the second branch of the imperial legislature. Until the reign of George III. the House of Lords was decidedly superior to the House of Commons in the liberality and general accomplishments of its members. It is true that in both Houses there prevailed a spirit which must be called narrow and superstitious if tried by the larger standard of the present age.

"The superiority of the Upper House over the Lower was, on the whole, steadily maintained during the reign of George II., the ministers not being anxious to strengthen the High Church party in the Lords, and the King himself so rarely suggesting fresh creations as to cause a belief that he particularly disliked increasing their numbers. It was reserved for George III., by an unsparing use of his prerogative, entirely to change the character of the Upper House, and thus lay the foundation for that disrepute into which, since then, the peers have been constantly falling. The creations he made were numerous beyond all precedent, their object evidently being to neutralize the liberal spirit hitherto prevailing, and thus turn the House of Lords into an engine for resisting the popular wishes, and stopping the progress of reform. How completely this plan succeeded is well known to the readers of our history; indeed, it was sure to be successful considering the character of the men who were promoted. They consisted almost entirely of two classes: of country gentlemen, remarkable for nothing but their wealth, and the number of votes their wealth enabled them to control; and of mere lawyers, who had risen to judicial appointments partly from their professional learning, but chiefly from the zeal with which they repressed the popular liberties, and favored the royal prerogative.

"That this is no exaggerated description may be ascertained by any one who will consult the lists of the new-peers made by George III.

"Here and there we find an eminent man, whose public services were so notorious that it was impossible to avoid rewarding them; but, putting aside those who were in a manner forced upon the sovereign, it would be idle to deny that the remainder, and of course the overwhelming majority, were marked by a narrowness and illiberality of sentiment which, more than anything else, brought the whole order into contempt. No great thinkers, no great writers, no great orators, no great statesmen, none of the true nobility of the land, were to be found among the spurious nobles created by George III."

In the early part of his reign, George III. (whom even the courtly Alison pictures as having "little education and no great acquired information") was very much under the influence of his mother, who had, previously to his being King, often spoken of her son with contempt. The Princess of Wales, in turn, was almost entirely guided by Lord Bute, represented by scandal, says Macaulay, as "her favored lover." "Of this attachment," says Dr. Doran, "the Prince of Wales himself is said to have had full knowledge, and did not object to Lord Bute taking solitary walks with the Princess, while he could do the same with Lady Middlesex." The most infamous stories were circulated in the Whisperer, and other journals of the time, as to the nature of the association between the Scotch Peer and the King's mother, and its results. Phillimore regards the Princess of Wales as "before and after her husband's death the mistress of Lord Bute." The Princess Dowager seems to have been a hard woman. Walpole tells us how, when the Princess Dowager reproved one of her maids of honor for irregular habits, the latter replied, "Madame, chacun a son But." "Seeing," says Thackeray, "the young Duke of Gloucester silent and unhappy once, she sharply asked him the cause of his silence. 'I am thinking,' said the poor child. 'Thinking, sir! and of what?' – 'I am thinking if ever I have a son, I will not make him so unhappy as you make me.'"

John Stuart, Earl of Bute, shared with William Pitt and John Wilkes the bulk of popular attention during the first ten years of the King's reign. Bute had risen rapidly to favor, having attracted the attention of the Princess Dowager at some private theatricals, and he became by her influence Groom of the Stole. His poverty and ambition made him grasp at power, both against the great Commoner and the Pelham faction; and a lady observer described the great question of the day, in 1760, as being whether the King would burn in his chamber Scotch coal, Newcastle coal, or Pitt coal. Macaulay, who seems to have followed Lord Waldegrave's "Memoirs," says of Bute: "A handsome leg was among his chief qualifications for the stage… His understanding was narrow, his manners cold and haughty." His qualifications for the part of a statesman were best described by Prince Frederick, who often indulged in the unprincely luxury of sneering at his dependents. "Bute," said his Royal Highness, "you are the very man to be envoy at some small proud German Court> where there is nothing to do." Phillimore speaks of Lord Bute as "a minion raised by Court favor to a post where his ignorance, mean understanding, and disregard of English honor, became national calamities."

The King's speech on his accession is said to have been drawn up by Bute, who did not then belong to the Council, but the terms being vehemently objected to by Pitt, it was actually altered after delivery, and before it found its way to the printer.

Whatever were the relations between Lord Bute and the Princess Dowager, it is quite certain that on more than one occasion George III. condescended not only to prevaricate, but to lie as to the influence exercised by Lord Bute. It is certain, from the "Memoirs" of Earl Waldegrave, and other trustworthy sources, that the Scotch Earl, after being hissed out of office by the people, was still secretly consulted by the King, who, like a truly Royal Brunswick, did not hesitate to use falsehood on the subject even to his own ministers. Phillimore, in remarkably strong language, describes George III. as "an ignorant, dishonest, obstinate, narrow-minded boy, at that very moment the tool of an adulteress and her paramour." The Duke of Bedford has put upon record, in his correspondence, not only his conviction that the King behaved unfaithfully to his ministers, but asserts that he told him so to his face.

In 1759, George was married to Hannah Lightfoot, a Quakeress, in Curzon Street Chapel, May Fair, in the presence of his brother, Edward, Duke of York. Great doubt has, however, been cast on the legality of this marriage, as it would, if in all respects valid, have rendered null as a bigamous contract the subsequent marriage entered into by the King. Dr. Doran says that the Prince of Wales, afterwards George IV., when needing money in later years, used this Lightfoot marriage as a threat against his royal parents – that is, that he threatened to expose his mother's shame and his own illegitimacy if the Queen would not use her influence with Pitt. Glorious family, these Brunswicks! Walpole affirms that early in his reign George III. admitted to his uncle, the Duke of Cumberland, "that it had not been common in their family to live well together."

On the 18th of September, 1761, George was married to the Princess Charlotte Sophia, of Mecklenburgh Strelitz, Hannah Lightfoot being still alive. Of the new Queen, Philli-more says: "If to watch over the education of her children and to promote their happiness be any part of a woman's duty, she has little claim to the praises that have been so lavishly bestowed on her as a model of domestic virtue. Her religion was displayed in the scrupulous observance of external forms. Repulsive in her aspect, grovelling in her instincts, sordid in her habits; steeped from the cradle in the stupid pride which was the atmosphere of her stolid and most insignificant race; inexorably severe to those who yielded to temptation from which she was protected, not more by her situation and the vigilance of those around her, than by the extreme homeliness of her person; bigoted, avaricious, unamiable to brutality, she added dulness and gloom even to the English court."

In 1761, the Duke of Bedford was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland; that unfortunate country, for centuries governed by men who tried to exterminate its natives, and which was used under the first three reigns of the House of Brunswick as a sponge out of which, regardless of much bloodshed and more misery, gold could be squeezed for the dependents and relatives of aristocrats in office. His reign of office in Ireland was brief. Walpole says that "the ill-humor of the country determined the Duke of Bedford to quit the Government, after having amply gratified his family and dependents with pensions." It was this Duke of Bedford who consented that the Princess of Hesse should have a pension of £6,000 a year out of the Irish revenues, and who gave to his own relative, the Lady Betty Waldegrave, £800 a year from the same source. Shortly after this, Prince Charles, of Strelitz, the Queen's brother, received £30,000 towards the payment of the debts he owed in Germany. This £30,000 was nominally given by the King out of the Civil List, but was really paid by the nation when discharging the Civil List debts which it increased. On the motion of Lord Barrington, £400,000 subsidy was granted this year to the Landgrave of Hesse, under a secret treaty made by George II., without the knowledge or consent of Parliament, and £300,000 was also voted to the Chancery of Hanover for forage for Hanoverian, Prussian, and Hessian Cavalry.

On August 12th, 1762, George, Prince of Wales, was born; and in the same year, with the direct connivance of George III., the peace of Paris was made; a peace as disgraceful to England, under the circumstances, as can possibly be imagined. Lord Bute, who was roundly charged with receiving money from France for his services, and this with the knowledge of the mother of George III., most certainly communicated to the French minister "the most secret councils of the English Cabinet."

This was done with the distinct concurrence of George III., who was himself bribed by the immediate evacuation of his Hanoverian dominions. In the debate in the Lords on the preliminaries of peace, Horace Walpole tells us that "the Duke of Grafton, with great weight and greater warmth, attacked them severely, and looking full on Lord Bute, imputed to him corruption and worse arts." Count Virri, the disreputable agent employed in this matter by the King and Lord Bute, was rewarded under the false name of George Charles with a pension of £1,000 a year out of the Irish revenues. Phillimore may well declare that Lord Bute was "a minion, raised by court favor to a post where his ignorance, mean understanding, and disregard of English honor, became national calamities." To carry the approval of this peace of Paris through the Commons, Fox, afterwards Lord Holland, was purchased with a most lucrative appointment, although only shortly before he had published a print of George, with the following lines, referring to the Princess Dowager and Lord Bute, written under the likeness: —

"Son of a —

I could say more."

To gain a majority in the House of Commons, Walpole tells us "that a shop was publicly opened at the pay office, whither the members flocked and received the wages of their venality in bank bills even to so low a sum as £200, for their votes on the treaty. £25,000 was thus issued in one morning." Lord Chesterfield speaks of the large sums disbursed by the King "for the hire of Parliament men."

As an illustration of the unblushing corruption of the age, the following letter from Lord Saye and Sele to Mr. Grenville, then Prime Minister of England, tells its own terrible tale: —

"November 26th, 1763.

"Honored Sir: – I am very much obliged to you for that freedom of converse you this morning indulged me in, which I prize more than the lucrative advantage I then received. To show the sincerity of my words (pardon, sir, the over-niceness of my disposition), I return enclosed the bill for £300 you favored me with, as good manners would not permit my refusal of it when tendered by you.

"Your most obliged and obedient servant,

"Sate and Sele.

"As a free horse needs no spur, so I stand in need of no inducement or douceur to lend my small assistance to the King or his friends in the present Administration."

That this was part of the general practice of the Government under George III. may be seen by the following extract from an infamous letter written about fifteen years later by the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland: "No man can see the inconvenience of increasing the Peers more forcibly than myself, but the recommendation of many of those persons submitted to his Majesty for that honor, arose from the engagements taken up at the press of the moment to rescue questions upon which the English Government were very particularly anxious. My sentiments cannot but be the same with reference to the Privy Council and pensions, and I had not contracted any absolute engagements of recommendations either to peerage or pension, till difficulties arose which necessarily occasioned so much anxiety in his Majesty's Cabinet, that I must have been culpable in neglecting any possible means to secure a majority in the House of Commons."

A good story is told of the great Commoner Pitt's repartee to Fox (afterwards Lord Holland), in one of the debates of this period. "Pitt," says the London Chronicle, "in the heat of his declamation, proceeded so far as to attack the personal deformity of Fox; and represented his gloomy and lowering countenance, with the penthouse of his eye-brows, as Churchill phrases it, as a true introduction of his dark and double mind. Mr. Fox was nettled at this personal reflection, and the more so, perhaps, that it was as just as it was cutting. He therefore got up, and after inveighing bitterly against the indecency of his antagonist, in descending to remark on his bodily defects, observed that his figure was such as God Almighty had made it, and he could not look otherwise; and then, in a tone between the plaintive and indignant, cried out, 'How, gentlemen, shall I look?' Most of the members, apprehending that Mr. Pitt had gone rather too far, were inclined to think that Mr. Fox had got the better of him. But Mr. Pitt started up, and with one of those happy turns, in which he so much excels, silenced his rival, and made him sit down with a countenance, if possible more abashed than formerly. 'Look! Sir,' said he – 'look' as you cannot look, if you would – look as you dare not look, if you could – look like an honest man.'"