The History of England from the Accession of James II, Vol. 2

T >> Thomas Babington Macaulay >> The History of England from the Accession of James II, Vol. 2

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William, however, determined to try whether a request made by
himself in earnest and almost supplicating terms
would induce his subjects to indulge his national partiality at
the expense of their own. None of his ministers could flatter him
with any hope of success. But on this subject he was too much
excited to hear reason. He sent down to the Commons a message,
not merely signed by himself according to the usual form, but
written throughout with his own hand. He informed them that the
necessary preparations had been made for sending away the guards
who came with him to England, and that they would immediately
embark, unless the House should, out of consideration for him, be
disposed to retain them, which he should take very kindly. When
the message had been read, a member proposed that a day might be
fixed for the consideration of the subject. But the chiefs of the
majority would not consent to any thing which might seem to
indicate hesitation, and moved the previous question. The
ministers were in a false position. It was out of their power to
answer Harley when he sarcastically declared that he did not
suspect them of having advised His Majesty on this occasion. If,
he said, those gentlemen had thought it desirable that the Dutch
brigade should remain in the kingdom, they would have done so
before. There had been many opportunities of raising the question
in a perfectly regular manner during the progress of the
Disbanding Bill. Of those opportunities nobody had thought fit to
avail himself; and it was now too late to reopen the question.
Most of the other members who spoke against taking the message
into consideration took the same line, declined discussing points
which might have been discussed when the Disbanding Bill was
before the House, and declared merely that they could not consent
to any thing so unparliamentary as the repealing of an Act which
had just been passed. But this way of dealing with the message
was far too mild and moderate to satisfy the implacable malice of
Howe. In his courtly days he had vehemently called on the King to
use the Dutch for the purpose of quelling the insubordination of
the English regiments. "None but the Dutch troops," he said, "are
to be trusted." He was now not ashamed to draw a parallel between
those very Dutch troops and the Popish Kernes whom James had
brought over from Munster and Connaught to enslave our island.
The general feeling was such that the previous question was
carried without a division. A Committee was immediately appointed
to draw up an address explaining the reasons which made it
impossible for the House to comply with His Majesty's wish. At
the next sitting the Committee reported; and on the report there
was an animated debate. The friends of the government thought the
proposed address offensive. The most respectable members of the
majority felt that it would be ungraceful to aggravate by harsh
language the pain which must be caused by their conscientious
opposition to the King's wishes. Some strong expressions were
therefore softened down; some courtly phrases were inserted; but
the House refused to omit one sentence which almost reproachfully
reminded the King that in his memorable Declaration of 1688 he
had promised to send back all the foreign forces as soon as he
had effected the deliverance of this country. The division was,
however, very close. There were one hundred and fifty-seven votes
for omitting this passage, and one hundred and sixty-three for
retaining it.18

The address was presented by the whole House. William's answer
was as good as it was possible for him, in the unfortunate
position in which he had placed himself, to return. It showed
that he was deeply hurt; but it was temperate and dignified.
Those who saw him in private knew that his feelings had been
cruelly lacerated. His body sympathised with his mind. His sleep
was broken. His headaches tormented him more than ever. From
those whom he had been in the habit of considering as his
friends, and who had failed him in the recent struggle, he did
not attempt to conceal his displeasure. The lucrative see of
Worcester was vacant; and some powerful Whigs of the cider
country wished to obtain it for John Hall, Bishop of Bristol. One
of the Foleys, a family zealous for the Revolution, but hostile
to standing armies, spoke to the King on the subject. "I will pay
as much respect to your rashes," said William, "as you and yours
have paid to mine." Lloyd of St. Asaph was translated to
Worcester.

The Dutch Guards immediately began to march to the coast. After
all the clamour which had been raised against them, the populace
witnessed their departure rather with sorrow than with triumph.
They had been long domiciled here; they had been honest and
inoffensive; and many of them were accompanied by English wives
and by young children who talked no language but English. As they
traversed the capital, not a single shout of exultation was
raised; and they were almost everywhere greeted with kindness.
One rude spectator, indeed, was heard to remark that Hans made a
much better figure, now that he had been living ten years on the
fat of the land, than when he first came. "A pretty figure you
would have made," said a Dutch soldier, "if we had not come." And
the retort was generally applauded. It would not, however, be
reasonable to infer from the signs of public sympathy and good
will with which the foreigners were dismissed that the nation
wished them to remain. It was probably because they were going
that they were regarded with favour by many who would never have
seen them relieve guard at St. James's without black looks and
muttered curses.

Side by side with the discussion about the land force had been
proceeding a discussion, scarcely less animated, about the naval
administration. The chief minister of marine was a man whom it
had once been useless and even perilous to attack in the Commons.
It was to no purpose that, in 1693, grave charges, resting on
grave evidence, had been brought against the Russell who had
conquered at La Hogue. The name of Russell acted as a spell on
all who loved English freedom. The name of La Hogue acted as a
spell on all who were proud of the glory of the English arms. The
accusations, unexamined and unrefuted, were contemptuously flung
aside; and the thanks of the House were voted to the accused
commander without one dissentient voice. But times had changed.
The Admiral still had zealous partisans; but the fame of his
exploits had lost their gloss; people in general were quick to
discern his faults; and his faults were but too discernible. That
he had carried on a traitorous correspondence with Saint Germains
had not been proved, and had been pronounced by the
representatives of the people to be a foul calumny. Yet the
imputation had left a stain on his name. His arrogant, insolent
and quarrelsome temper made him an object of hatred. His vast and
growing wealth made him an object of envy. What his official
merits and demerits really were it is not easy to discover through
the mist made up of factious abuse and factious panegyric. One
set of waters described him as the most ravenous of all the
plunderers of the poor overtaxed nation. Another set asserted
that under him the ships were better built and rigged, the crews
were better disciplined and better tempered, the biscuit was
better, the beer was better, the slops were better, than under
any of his predecessors; and yet that the charge to the public
was less than it had been when the vessels were unseaworthy, when
the sailors were riotous, when the food was alive with vermin,
when the drink tasted like tanpickle, and when the clothes and
hammocks were rotten. It may, however, be observed that these two
representations are not inconsistent with each other; and there
is strong reason to believe that both are, to a great extent,
true. Orford was covetous and unprincipled; but he had great
professional skill and knowledge, great industry, and a strong
will. He was therefore an useful servant of the state when the
interests of the state were not opposed to his own; and this was
more than could be said of some who had preceded him. He was, for
example, an incomparably better administrator than Torrington.
For Torrington's weakness and negligence caused ten times as much
mischief as his rapacity. But, when Orford had nothing to gain by
doing what was wrong, he did what was right, and did it ably and
diligently. Whatever Torrington did not embezzle he wasted.
Orford may have embezzled as much as Torrington; but he wasted
nothing.

Early in the session, the House of Commons resolved itself into a
Committee on the state of the Navy. This Committee sate at
intervals during more than three months. Orford's administration
underwent a close scrutiny, and very narrowly escaped a severe
censure. A resolution condemning the manner in which his accounts
had been kept was lost by only one vote. There were a hundred and
forty against him, and a hundred and forty-one for him. When the
report was presented to the House, another attempt was made to
put a stigma upon him. It was moved that the King should be
requested to place the direction of maritime affairs in other
hands. There were a hundred and sixty Ayes to a hundred and
sixty-four Noes. With this victory, a victory hardly to be
distinguished from a defeat, his friends were forced to be
content. An address setting forth some of the abuses in the naval
department, and beseeching King William to correct them, was
voted without a division. In one of those abuses Orford was
deeply interested. He was First Lord of the Admiralty; and he had
held, ever since the Revolution, the lucrative place of Treasurer
of the Navy. It was evidently improper that two offices, one of
which was meant to be a check on the other, should be united in
the same person; and this the Commons represented to the King.

Questions relating to the military and naval Establishments
occupied the attention of the Commons so much during the session
that, until the prorogation was at hand, little was said about
the resumption of the Crown grants. But, just before the Land Tax
Bill was sent up to the Lords, a clause was added to it by which
seven Commissioners were empowered to take account of the
property forfeited in Ireland during the late troubles. The
selection of those Commissioners the House reserved to itself.
Every member was directed to bring a list containing the names of
seven persons who were not members; and the seven names which
appeared in the greatest number of lists were inserted in the
bill. The result of the ballot was unfavourable to the
government. Four of the seven on whom the choice fell were
connected with the opposition; and one of them, Trenchard, was
the most conspicuous of the pamphleteers who had been during many
months employed in raising a cry against the army.

The Land Tax Bill, with this clause tacked to it, was carried to
the Upper House. The Peers complained, and not without reason, of
this mode of proceeding. It may, they said, be very proper that
Commissioners should be appointed by Act of Parliament to take
account of the forfeited property in Ireland. But they should be
appointed by a separate Act. Then we should be able to make
amendments, to ask for conferences, to give and receive
explanations. The Land Tax Bill we cannot amend. We may indeed
reject it; but we cannot reject it without shaking public credit,
without leaving the kingdom defenceless, without raising a mutiny
in the navy. The Lords yielded, but not without a protest which
was signed by some strong Whigs and some strong Tories. The King
was even more displeased than the Peers. "This Commission," he
said, in one of his private letters, "will give plenty of trouble
next winter." It did indeed give more trouble than he at all
anticipated, and brought the nation nearer than it has ever since
been to the verge of another revolution.

And now the supplies had been voted. The spring was brightening
and blooming into summer. The lords and squires were sick of
London; and the King was sick of England. On the fourth day of
May he prorogued the Houses with a speech very different from the
speeches with which he had been in the habit of dismissing the
preceding Parliament. He uttered not one word of thanks or
praise. He expressed a hope that, when they should meet again,
they would make effectual provision for the public safety. "I
wish," these were his concluding words, "no mischief may happen
in the mean time." The gentlemen who thronged the bar withdrew in
wrath, and, as they could not take immediate vengeance, laid up
his reproaches in their hearts against the beginning of the next
session.

The Houses had broken up; but there was still much to be done
before the King could set out for Loo. He did not yet perceive
that the true way to escape from his difficulties was to form an
entirely new ministry possessing the confidence of the majority
which had, in the late session, been found so unmanageable. But
some partial changes he could not help making. The recent votes
of the Commons forced him seriously to consider the state of the
Board of Admiralty. It was impossible that Orford could continue
to preside at that Board and be at the same time Treasurer of the
Navy. He was offered his option. His own wish was to keep the
Treasurership, which was both the more lucrative and the more
secure of his two places. But it was so strongly represented to
him that he would disgrace himself by giving up great power for
the sake of gains which, rich and childless as he was, ought to
have been beneath his consideration, that he determined to remain
at the Admiralty. He seems to have thought that the sacrifice
which he had made entitled him to govern despotically the
department at which he had been persuaded to remain. But be soon
found that the King was determined to keep in his own hands the
power of appointing and removing the junior Lords. One of these
Lords, especially, the First Commissioner hated, and was bent on
ejecting, Sir George Rooke, who was Member of Parliament for
Portsmouth. Rooke was a brave and skilful officer, and had,
therefore, though a Tory in politics, been suffered to keep his
place during the ascendency of the Whig junto. Orford now
complained to the King that Rooke had been in correspondence with
the factious opposition which had given so much trouble, and had
lent the weight of his professional and official authority to the
accusations which had been brought against the naval
administration. The King spoke to Rooke, who declared that Orford
had been misinformed. "I have a great respect for my Lord; and on
proper occasions I have not failed to express it in public. There
have certainly been abuses at the Admiralty which I am unable to
defend. When those abuses have been the subject of debate in the
House of Commons, I have sate silent. But, whenever any personal
attack has been made on my Lord, I have done him the best service
that I could." William was satisfied, and thought that Orford
should have been satisfied too. But that haughty and perverse
nature could be content with nothing but absolute dominion. He
tendered his resignation, and could not be induced to retract it.
He said that he could be of no use. It would be easy to supply
his place; and his successors should have his best wishes. He
then retired to the country, where, as was reported and may
easily be believed, he vented his ill humour in furious
invectives against the King. The Treasurership of the Navy was
given to the Speaker Littleton. The Earl of Bridgewater, a
nobleman of very fair character and of some experience in
business, became First Lord of the Admiralty.

Other changes were made at the same time. There had during some
time been really no Lord President of the Council. Leeds, indeed,
was still called Lord President, and, as such, took precedence of
dukes of older creation; but he had not performed any of the
duties of his office since the prosecution instituted against him
by the Commons in 1695 had been suddenly stopped by an event
which made the evidence of his guilt at once legally defective
and morally complete. It seems strange that a statesman of
eminent ability, who had been twice Prime Minister, should have
wished to hold, by so ignominious a tenure, a place which can
have had no attraction for him but the salary. To that salary,
however, Leeds had clung, year after year; and he now
relinquished it with a very bad grace. He was succeeded by
Pembroke; and the Privy Seal which Pembroke laid down was put
into the hands of a peer of recent creation, Viscount Lonsdale.
Lonsdale had been distinguished in the House of Commons as Sir
John Lowther, and had held high office, but had quitted public
life in weariness and disgust, and had passed several years in
retirement at his hereditary seat in Cumberland. He had planted
forests round his house, and had employed Verrio to decorate the
interior with gorgeous frescoes which represented the gods at
their banquet of ambrosia. Very reluctantly, and only in
compliance with the earnest and almost angry importunity of the
King, Lonsdale consented to leave his magnificent retreat, and
again to encounter the vexations of public life.

Trumball resigned the Secretaryship of State; and the Seals which
he had held were given to Jersey, who was succeeded at Paris by
the Earl of Manchester.

It is to be remarked that the new Privy Seal and the new
Secretary of State were moderate Tories. The King had probably
hoped that, by calling them to his councils, he should conciliate
the opposition. But the device proved unsuccessful; and soon it
appeared that the old practice of filling the chief offices of
state with men taken from various parties, and hostile to one
another, or, at least, unconnected with one another, was
altogether unsuited to the new state of affairs; and that, since
the Commons had become possessed of supreme power, the only way
to prevent them from abusing that power with boundless folly and
violence was to intrust the government to a ministry which
enjoyed their confidence.

While William was making these changes in the great offices of
state, a change in which he took a still deeper interest was
taking place in his own household. He had laboured in vain during
many months to keep the peace between Portland and Albemarle.
Albemarle, indeed, was all courtesy, good humour, and submission;
but Portland would not be conciliated. Even to foreign ministers
he railed at his rival and complained of his master. The whole
Court was divided between the competitors, but divided very
unequally. The majority took the side of Albemarle, whose manners
were popular and whose power was evidently growing. Portland's
few adherents were persons who, like him, had already made their
fortunes, and who did not therefore think it worth their while to
transfer their homage to a new patron. One of these persons tried
to enlist Prior in Portland's faction, but with very little
success. "Excuse me," said the poet, "if I follow your example
and my Lord's. My Lord is a model to us all; and you have
imitated him to good purpose. He retires with half a million. You
have large grants, a lucrative employment in Holland, a fine
house. I have nothing of the kind. A court is like those
fashionable churches into which we have looked at Paris. Those
who have received the benediction are instantly away to the Opera
House or the wood of Boulogne. Those who have not received the
benediction are pressing and elbowing each other to get near the
altar. You and my Lord have got your blessing, and are quite
right to take yourselves off with at. I have not been blest, and
must fight my way up as well as I can." Prior's wit was his own.
But his worldly wisdom was common to him with multitudes; and the
crowd of those who wanted to be lords of the bedchamber, rangers
of parks, and lieutenants of counties, neglected Portland and
tried to ingratiate themselves with Albemarle.

By one person, however, Portland was still assiduously courted;
and that person was the King. Nothing was omitted which could
soothe an irritated mind. Sometimes William argued, expostulated
and implored during two hours together. But he found the comrade
of his youth an altered man, unreasonable, obstinate and
disrespectful even before the public eye. The Prussian minister,
an observant and impartial witness, declared that his hair had
more than once stood on end to see the rude discourtesy with
which the servant repelled the gracious advances of the master.
Over and over William invited his old friend to take the long
accustomed seat in his royal coach, that seat which Prince George
himself had never been permitted to invade; and the invitation
was over and over declined in a way which would have been thought
uncivil even between equals. A sovereign could not, without a
culpable sacrifice of his personal dignity, persist longer in
such a contest. Portland was permitted to withdraw from the
palace. To Heinsius, as to a common friend, William announced
this separation in a letter which shows how deeply his feelings
had been wounded. "I cannot tell you what I have suffered. I have
done on my side every thing that I could do to satisfy him; but
it was decreed that a blind jealousy should make him regardless
of every thing that ought to have been dear to him." To Portland
himself the King wrote in language still more touching. "I hope
that you will oblige me in one thing. Keep your key of office. I
shall not consider you as bound to any attendance. But I beg you
to let me see you as often as possible. That will be a great
mitigation of the distress which you have caused me. For, after
all that has passed, I cannot help loving you tenderly."

Thus Portland retired to enjoy at his ease immense estates
scattered over half the shires of England, and a hoard of ready
money, such, it was said, as no other private man in Europe
possessed. His fortune still continued to grow. For, though,
after the fashion of his countrymen, he laid out large sums on
the interior decoration of his houses, on his gardens, and on his
aviaries, his other expenses were regulated with strict
frugality. His repose was, however, during some years not
uninterrupted. He had been trusted with such grave secrets, and
employed in such high missions, that his assistance was still
frequently necessary to the government; and that assistance was
given, not, as formerly, with the ardour of a devoted friend, but
with the exactness of a conscientious servant. He still continued
to receive letters from William; letters no longer indeed
overflowing with kindness, but always indicative of perfect
confidence and esteem.

The chief subject of those letters was the question which had
been for a time settled in the previous autumn at Loo, and which
had been reopened in the spring by the death of the Electoral
Prince of Bavaria.

As soon as that event was known at Paris, Lewis directed Tallard
to sound William as to a new treaty. The first thought which
occurred to William was that it might be possible to put the
Elector of Bavaria in his son's place. But this suggestion was
coldly received at Versailles, and not without reason. If,
indeed, the young Francis Joseph had lived to succeed Charles,
and had then died a minor without issue, the case would have been
very different. Then the Elector would have been actually
administering the government of the Spanish monarchy, and,
supported by France, England and the United Provinces, might
without much difficulty have continued to rule as King the empire
which he had begun to rule as Regent. He would have had also, not
indeed a right, but something which to the vulgar would have
looked like a right, to be his son's heir. Now he was altogether
unconnected with Spain. No more reason could be given for
selecting him to be the Catholic King than for selecting the
Margrave of Baden or the Grand Duke of Tuscany. Something was
said about Victor Amadeus of Savoy, and something about the King
of Portugal; but to both there were insurmountable objections. It
seemed, therefore, that the only choice was between a French
Prince and an Austrian Prince; and William learned, with
agreeable surprise, that Lewis might possibly be induced to
suffer the younger Archduke to be King of Spain and the Indies.
It was intimated at the same time that the House of Bourbon would
expect, in return for so great a concession to the rival House of
Habsburg, greater advantages than had been thought sufficient
when the Dauphin consented to waive his claims in favour of a
candidate whose elevation could cause no jealousies. What Lewis
demanded, in addition to the portion formerly assigned to France,
was the Milanese. With the Milanese he proposed to buy Lorraine
from its Duke. To the Duke of Lorraine this arrangement would
have been beneficial, and to the people of Lorraine more
beneficial still. They were, and had long been, in a singularly
unhappy situation. Lewis domineered over them as if they had been
his subjects, and troubled himself as little about their
happiness as if they had been his enemies. Since he exercised as
absolute a power over them as over the Normans and Burgundians,
it was desirable that he should have as great an interest in
their welfare as in the welfare of the Normans and Burgundians.

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