XVIII. 1778. Mahon, all the lords standing up out of respect, BOOK and making a lane for him to pass to the earls' bench, he bowing very gracefully to them as he proceeded. He looked pale and much emaciated, but his eye retained all its native fire; which, joined to his general deportment, and the attention of the house, formed a spectacle very striking and impressive. When the duke of Richmond had sat down, lord Chatham rose, and began by lamenting "that his bodily infirmities had so long and at so important a crisis prevented his attendance on the duties of parliament. He declared, that he had made an effort almost beyond the powers of his constitution, to come down to the house on this day, perhaps the LAST time he should ever be able to enter its walls, to express the indignation he felt at the idea which he understood was gone forth of yielding up the sovereignty of America. My lords," continued he, "I rejoice that the grave has not closed upon me, that I am still alive to lift up my voice against the dismemberment of this antient and noble monarchy. Pressed down as I am by the load of infirmity, I am little able to assist my country in this most perilous conjuncture: but, my lords, while I have sense and memory, I never will consent to tarnish the lustre of this nation by an ignominious surrender of its rights and fairest possessions. XVIII. BOOK Shall a people so lately the terror of the world, now fall prostrate before the house of Bourbon? 1778. It is impossible! In God's name, if it is absolutely necessary to declare either for peace or war, and if peace cannot be preserved with honour, why is not war commenced without hesitation? I am not, I confess, well informed of the resources of this kingdom, but I trust it has still sufficient to maintain its just rights, though I know them not.-Any state, my lords, is better than despair. Let us at least make one effort-and, if we must fall, let us fall like men." The duke of Richmond, in reply, declared himself to be "totally ignorant of the means by which we were to resist with success the combination of America with the house of Bourbon. He urged the noble lord to point out any possible mode, if he were able to do it, of making the Americans renounce that independence of which they were in possession. His grace added, that if He could not, no man could; and that it was not in his power to change his opinion on the noble lord's authority, unsupported by any reasons, but a recital of the calamities arising from a state of things not in the power of this country now to alter." Lord Chatham, who had appeared greatly moved during the reply, made an eager effort 1778. to rise at the conclusion of it, as if laboring BOOK with some great idea, and impatient to give full scope to his feelings; but, before he could utter a word, pressing his hand on his bosom, he fell down suddenly in a convulsive fit. The duke of Cumberland, lord Temple, and other lords near him, caught him in their arms. The house was immediately cleared; and his lordship being carried into an adjoining apartment, the debate was adjourned. Medical assistance being obtained, his lordship in some degree recovered, and was conveyed to his favorite villa of Hayes in Kent, where, after lingering some few weeks, he expired May 11th, 1778, in the 70th year of his age*. On the first intelligence of his death, colonel Barré repaired to the house of commons, then sitting, and communicated the melancholy information. Although it was an event which had been for some time daily expected, the *The following account is extracted from a letter written on this occasion by lord Camden to a nobleman of the highest rank, with whom, notwithstanding their temporary differences in politics, he had ever maintained an inviolable friendship. "I saw him in the prince's chamber, before he went into the house, and conversed a little with him: but such was the feeble state of his body, and indeed the distempered agitation of his mind, that I did forebode his strength would certainly fail him before he had finished his speech. The earl spoke, but was not like himself. His speech faultered, 1778. BOOK house seemed affected with the deepest sensibiXVIII. lity, and sorrow was apparent in every countenance. The recollection of his former pre eminence in power, of his unrivalled eloquence, of his unwearied exertions in the public service, and of the unexampled prosperity to which Great Britain had attained under his administration, rushed upon the mind with irresistible force, and produced an emotion which the sympathy so powerful in popular assemblies heightened to enthusiasm. The motion made by colonel Barré, "that the remains of the Earl of Chatham be interred at the public expence," was unanimously adopted; with the farther addition, "that a monument be erected to his memory in the collegiate church of St. Peter, Westminster." This was followed by a motion from lord John Cavendish, for an address to the king, "that his majesty would be graciously pleased to make a perma his sentences broken, and his mind not master of itself. His words were shreds of unconnected eloquence, and flashes of the same fire that he, Prometheus-like, had stolen from heaven, and were then returning to the place from whence they were taken. He fell back upon his seat, and was to all appearance in the pangs of death. This threw the whole house into confusion. Many crowded about the carl. Even those who might have felt a secret pleasure in the accident, yet put on the appearance of distress-except only the earl of Mansfield, who sat still, almost as much unmoved as the senseless body itself." 1778. nent provision for the family of the late WIL BOOK LIAM PITT, earl of CHATHAM, in consideration of the services performed by that able statesman;" and in the sequel, a bill was brought into parliament, and unanimously passed, by which a clear annuity of 4000l. per annum, payable out of the civil list, is for ever to be annexed to the earldom of Chatham, and the sum of 20,000l. voted for the discharge of debts and incumbrances. Thus nobly and gratefully did the nation reward the services of the man whose counsels, to the amazement of the world, she had for so many years neglected and contemned. The ready concurrence of the court in the honors lavished on the memory of this great statesman may be ascribed entirely to the decided manner in which he delivered, almost in his last breath, his sentiments against the recognition of American independence, and which may be regarded as the sole political error with which, in respect to America, he is chargeable. What his precise ideas were, with regard to the plan of conciliation proper to be adopted in the actual circumstances of the nation, cannot be ascertained; but of this we may rest assured, from the uniform and systematic tenor of his policy, that he never would have employed coercive means in accomplishing it. When he found, and had he been restored to the plenitude of power he certainly would have found, |