Pitt and the Pendulum of Reform

It's my pleasure to welcome Sue Wilkes, a fellow member of the Pen and Sword Books fold, to discuss Pitt the Younger!

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Pitt and the Pendulum of Reform

William Pitt the Younger (1759–1806) took office in 1783 (with George III’s backing) following the death of the Whigs’ leader, Lord Rockingham. He became prime minister during an era when Britain’s elite faced great dangers abroad and at home. 

During his early days as a politician, Pitt was in favour of reforming Britain’s rotten, corrupt electoral system. Various measures for reform had been mooted for many years, but it proved impossible to make headway against the upper classes’ vested interests. When Major John Cartwright founded the Society of Constitutional Information in 1780 to campaign for parliamentary reform, Pitt became a member. 

However, the outbreak of the French Revolution, and war with Britain’s traditional enemy (France), meant that many formerly liberal-minded gentlemen no longer backed reform: any change to status quo might usher in a bloody revolution at home. 

The Whig party split in two - the Duke of Portland and other prominent Whigs joined Pitt’s Tory government. Charles James Fox, a supporter of republican ideals, became Pitt’s main opponent in the House of Commons, but his extreme views meant that he only had a small band of followers. 

Pitt became an implacable opponent of parliamentary reform, and he virtually had a free hand when his government cracked down on the democratic reformers, or Radicals as they became known. They were nick-named ‘Jacobins’ (French revolutionaries) and considered to be enemies to law and order. 

In fact, most reformers only wanted parliamentary reform by peaceful means. The London Corresponding Society (LCS), formed in early 1792, advocated universal male suffrage and annual parliaments. (‘Votes for Women’ was a concept as yet undreamed-of in most reformers’ philosophy, except for a few free-thinkers).

The LCS wrote to similar societies in Manchester and Sheffield to discuss parliamentary reform. Its membership of a penny per week (with a shilling entrance fee) was affordable even for working-class men. The shoemaker Thomas Hardy and John ‘Citizen’ Thelwall, a writer and speaker, were influential members. 

When the LCS wrote to societies like ‘the Friends of the Constitution at Paris, known by the name of Jacobins’, this grabbed the government’s attention. Spies such as ‘Citizen Groves’ attended the society’s regular meetings at Thelwall’s lecture-room in the Strand. 

Meanwhile, the government received secret information that many disaffected Irishmen supported a French invasion. It knew that there were links between the Irish and British democrats, and that the LCS had written to France. 

Pitt’s government suspended the Habeas Corpus Act - the people’s legal protection against illegal or arbitrary imprisonment without trial – despite Whig protests. On 12 September 1794 Thelwall, Hardy and others were arrested and their papers confiscated. Another Radical, John Horne Tooke, was later arrested after one of his letters was intercepted by the Home Office.

After being examined by the privy council, Horne Tooke, Hardy and Thelwall were charged with high treason: plotting to kill the King. While Hardy was in prison his pregnant wife, terrified that her husband would be hanged, lost her baby and died soon afterwards. 

When the radicals’ trials took place at the Old Bailey, much evidence against them was spy testimony; there was little hard evidence of treason. Hardy’s defence counsel, Thomas Erskine, made mincemeat of the government witnesses. 

Embarrassingly for Pitt, when Tooke was on trial, he called the prime minister as a character witness to prove that he had formerly been in favour of parliamentary reform! Hardy, Tooke and Thelwall were found not guilty by the jury.

In October 1795, when the king went to open parliament, a bullet or stone passed through one of his carriage windows. This so-called assassination attempt gave the government the excuse it needed to crack down on all political agitation for reform. The Treasonable Practices Act 1795 extended the scope of the law on treason so that ‘compassing or imagining the death of the King’ by means of any writing or printed matter was now a treasonable offence. 

The second Act effectively outlawed all political meetings except under very strict conditions. A meeting could be broken up by magistrates if any language disrespectful of the government was used. The freedom of the press was curtailed; vocal opponents of the government were silenced, jailed or transported. As the Tories’ grip on the nation grew ever tighter, Charles James Fox could do little but make fine speeches as Pitt’s government snuffed out the lamps of liberty one by one. Many people in the upper and middle classes believed that Pitt’s ‘terror’ was necessary, however, to protect Britain from revolution. 

Pitt masterminded the Act of Union with Ireland in 1800 following its great rebellion two years earlier, but resigned office in 1801 when George III refused to let him ease restrictions on Roman Catholics. 

William Pitt served a second term from 1804 until his death in 1806. Pitt had lived through tumultuous times, and his many supporters believed that he had safely steered Britain through dangerous waters. Parliamentary reform, however, had to wait until over two decades after his death. 

About the Author

Sue is the author of numerous books: http://amzn.to/1elkCup and her latest release, Regency Spies, is available now. She is a member of the Society of Authors. She writes for adults and children and is a creative writing tutor for the Writers Bureau. Sue like toast, crisp clear autumn mornings, and haunting secondhand bookshops.

Written content of this post © Sue Wilkes, 2016.

George Grenville, The Gentle Shepherd

George Grenville (Wotton Underwood, Buckinghamshire, England, 14th October 1712 – Mayfair, Middlesex, England, 13th November 1770) 

George Grenville by Richard Houston, after William Hoare, 1750-55

As some of you may know, many years before I opened the salon, I spent some time employed in the political world in a most junior role. I was a very lowly cog in the Westminster machine and it was with a sigh of utterly delirious delight that I left that world behind ten years or more ago. My tale today finds us back in the ambitious, unforgiving Palace of Westminster to hear of a moment in the life of the Gentle Shepherd, better known as George Grenville, a Whig Prime Minster of Great Britain. Politicians are, of course, no stranger to nicknames and as these things go, the Gentle Shepherd is not one of the most unkind. In my post today I shall tell the tale of a fateful speech and the name given in jest that stuck with Grenville!

As an elder statesman of British politics, Grenville was a brother-in-law to William Pitt, a man who would be both political ally and opponent through their long and historic careers. It was Pitt who gave him the sobriquet during a debate in the House of Commons on the Cider Bill of 1763.

Giving a speech on the Bill, Grenville addressed the House to ask them that, if a tax could not be set on cider, then were could it be set instead? With no answer forthcoming he asked again where the money might be found, imploring the House, "tell me where", and repeating the request again to drive the point home.

As the sitting ended and Pitt left the chamber he began to whistle the very popular tune of the time, Gentle Shepherd, the chorus of which contained the refrain, "tell me where". Those Members of Parliament in the vicinity found the none-too-subtle dig at Grenville utterly hilarious and the nickname stuck. To this day Grenville is associated with Gentle Shepherd, not quite the sort of song that a statesman might want to accompany his name!

A Fall from a Phaeton: The Death of Earl Temple

Richard Grenville-Temple, 2nd Earl Temple KG, PC (London, England, 26th September 1711 – Stowe Park, Buckinghamshire, England, 12th September 1779)

Richard Grenville-Temple, 2nd Earl Temple by Allan Ramsay, 1762

On a crisp Autumn day like today, I do like to take a turn through the streets in my phaeton, taking in the world and catching the odd moment of overheard gossip as I go. There really is no more exhilarating way to travel and thought it's a lot of fun, one must also be mindful that it can be a little dangerous from time to time!

Brother in law to our old friend, William Pitt, Grenville was a politician, intriguer and influential man who enjoyed vast wealth, as well as close friends and sworn enemies. His most eventful life came to a tragic end in 1779, whilst Temple was taking the air in at his estate of Stowe Park.

Lady, said to be Anna Grenville, née Chambers, Countess Temple by circle of Thomas Hudson 

Whilst travelling in his phaeton on 11th September 1779, Earl Temple was thrown from the vehicle. He suffered massive head injuries in the accident, fracturing his skull upon impact. The former Lord Privy Seal died the following day, the earldom passing to his nephew George Nugent-Temple-Grenville.

Temple was buried at Stowe but his remains were later moved to Wotton parish church to be laid to rest alongside the wife he adored, where he remains to this day.

A Salon Guest... Happy 255th birthday, William Pitt the Younger: Remembering Hayes Place

It is a pleasure to welcome back the estimable Stephenie Woolterton, with a tale of William Pitt the Younger.

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Happy 255^th birthday, William Pitt the Younger: Remembering Hayes Place

Figure 1: William Pitt, detail of mezzotint by G. Keating (1794)

To mark the 255^th anniversary of the birth of William Pitt the younger (1759-1806), one of the greatest politicians in British history, today we remember his birthplace – Pitt’s childhood home of Hayes Place in Kent. On 28^th May 1759, William Pitt the elder wrote to his sister Ann at Bath to announce the birth of his fourth child: “…Lady Hester [his wife] was safely delivered of a Boy this morning, after a labour rather severe, but she and the Child are, thank God, as well as can be.” [1] Little William was delicate from birth, and it was not until 3^rd July 1759 that he was baptised at St. Mary the Virgin Church in Hayes. [2] Young William had a happy childhood, and was privately educated at home with his two sisters and two brothers under the tutelage of the Reverend Edward Wilson. Most of Pitt’s formative years were split between Hayes Place, near Bromley, and Burton Pynsent in Somerset. Wilson was also the family chaplain, and he resided close to Hayes Place at Pickhurst Green. Wilson educated the girls alongside the boys, a rare practice in the 18^th century. 

William Pitt the Elder and his passionately devoted wife Lady Hester were very fond of their five children, and they spent many happy moments at Hayes Place. Pitt the Elder enlarged the house at Hayes with extensive building renovations, and he landscaped the area surrounding the mansion. Part of this included buying up land that he thought spoiled his view, and constructing a wall towards the public road (now Hayes Street) that was 13 feet high to maintain his need for privacy [3]. Throughout the long-standing process of remodelling, Lady Hester was involved with the decoration, furnishing, and enlargement of the premises [4]. Indeed, it was mainly Lady Hester who managed the finances behind these endeavours. Unfortunately, Pitt the Elder’s extravagant spending meant that the family became mired in exorbitant debt, necessitating numerous loans from friends and relatives [5]. This led to Hayes Place being much mortgaged, and the Pitt family having to take in at least one of their creditors – Mr. Jouvencal of the Privy Council Office – for over a year between 1771 and 1772 [6].

Figure 2: View of Hayes Place in Kent, the seat of the Earl of Chatham (1784)

The Pitt family were very private, and largely kept to themselves. Pitt the Elder’s coachmen, a man named John Mumford, was still living at Hayes in 1833, in his 92^nd year, and he clearly recalled his memories of the reclusive Pitt the Elder: “He was a tall, gouty man, and generally wore a great coat; he had a particular dislike to be stared at, and when he saw any person approach, would often turn down the first lane or bye-way” [7]. Mumford also recollected Pitt’s young sons – John, William, and James – coming to the stables at Hayes Place to discuss horses with the coachmen [8]. 

William Pitt the Elder was raised to the peerage as the 1^st Earl of Chatham in 1766. Despite briefly selling Hayes in the late 1760s, and his accession of the Burton Pynsent estate in Somerset through the will of Sir William Pynsent (a complete stranger), Pitt was so enamoured with Hayes Place that he actually bought it back – at a much higher price – soon after. In spite of Lord Chatham’s frequent bouts of poor mental and physical health, the lives of his children were comparatively happy and comfortable. They remained so until Lord Chatham’s death, at Hayes Place, on 11^th May 1778. His widow Lady Hester Chatham, and his eldest son and heir John, the 2^nd Earl of Chatham, retained the property until the end of 1784, when it was sold at auction [9]. Over the course of the next 150 years, Hayes Place had many owners who made various changes to the house and its ornamental gardens. The last to own the property was Sir Everard Hambro of banking fame.

Figure 3: The Library at Hayes Place (early 20th century)

Sir Everard Hambro owned Hayes Place from the 1880s until his death in February 1925 [10]. The early 20^th century photograph above depicts the interior of the library at Hayes Place during the time of Hambro’s residence. Note the portrait of William Pitt the Younger by (or after) the artist John Hoppner hanging above the mantelpiece. Long after the occupation of the Pitt family, Hayes Place was still known by local residents as ‘Pitt’s House’ in remembrance of the great politicians who once lived there. After the death of Hambro, Hayes Place remained empty as his son Eric disposed of the estate for building [11]. Thus, the property was left to fall into a state of dereliction over the next eight years whilst property developers decided what to do with the estate. 

By the early 1930s, there was talk that ‘Pitt’s House’ was going to be demolished by Henry Boot, the Sheffield building company, in order to create a housing development on the existing land. The National Trust, an organisation that promotes the conservation and protection of historical places, was approached to save Hayes Place. Suggestions were made that it could be utilised as a branch library or a museum in light of its historical associations [12]. Even the MP for Bromley at the time, Mr. Waldron Smithers, wrote to The Times newspaper asking for someone to save Hayes Place for the nation [13]. The building company, Henry Boot, agreed that if anyone came forward to preserve the property, the firm would consider changing their plan. 

Figure 4: Hayes Place in the early 1930s (not long before its demolition)

 

Unfortunately, all efforts to save Hayes Place were to no avail. The National Trust failed to come forward to save the house – despite its historical significance – and no other scheme was forthcoming. In 2014, the property would have probably been preserved for the nation; in the interwar years of the 1930s, with housing shortages, and little money set aside for historic properties, the estate was in jeopardy. With all the resources for preserving the property at an end, demolition began. In January 1932, part of the wall surrounding Hayes Place was demolished for new shops in Hayes Street opposite St. Mary the Virgin parish church [14]. Sadly, in March 1933 Hayes Place itself was pulled down.

Today the only surviving reminders of Hayes Place are in the names of the roads that mark the former location of Pitt’s childhood home, as well as a blue plaque on one of the Hayes Street shop fronts to commemorate the estate. The site of Hayes Place was positioned in the area between the present day Hambro Avenue, Everard Avenue, and Alexander Close. Other roads nearby such as Chatham Avenue and Stanhope Avenue were also named after historical figures associated with the house. For those interested in visiting Hayes, it still retains the quaint, village feel of former times. Knoll Park and Husseywell Park were once part of Lord Chatham’s ornamental grounds, and have been maintained as public open spaces. 

Figure 5: Hayes Place Gates - now at the entrance to Concord Park in Sheffield

Lastly, the gates to Hayes Place are now placed at the entrance to Concord Park in Sheffield. As the building company who developed the Hayes Place Estate in the 1930s originated in Sheffield, perhaps this placement was in honour of the former mansion. Eighty years on, it is regrettable that The National Trust did not deem Hayes Place worth saving for the nation. It is a great shame that so many Georgian stately homes met the same fate in the 20^th century – mainly to make way for a growing need for suburban housing.

Figure 6: A memorial to father and son inside St. Mary the Virgin church, Hayes

 

Hayes Place was special in that not one but two British Prime Ministers once called it home. Its memory lives on, not just in the history books, but also in the hearts and minds of local Hayes residents. Walking around Knoll Park and Husseywell Park, and even in the streets of Hayes, it can still truly be said to be ‘Pitt Country.’ May the memory live on. 

References:

1. Rosebery (1910) Lord Chatham: His early life and connections. New York: Harper & Brothers, p. 102.
2. Baptism entry of William Pitt the Younger, Bromley Archives: P/180/1/2.
3. Wilson, J. & Woodman, T. (2012) Hayes: A History of a Kentish Village. Hayes: J. Wilson, Vol. 1, p. 76.
4. The National Archives. Chatham Papers: Letters of Lady Hester to her husband William Pitt (the Elder). PRO 30/8/8.
5. The National Archives. Chatham Papers: PRO 30/8/71, ff.101-103.
6. The National Archives. Chatham Papers: PRO 30/8/41.
7. Wilson, J. & Woodman, T. (2012) Hayes: A History of a Kentish Village. Hayes: J. Wilson, Vol. 1, p. 77. 
8. Ibid.
9. The National Archives. The Dowager Countess of Chatham’s copy of the catalogue of the household furniture, garden, and farming utensils live and dead stock and other effects of the late Earl of Chatham to be sold by auction at Hayes (Nov 1784): PRO 30/70/1/34. 
10. Wilson, J. & Woodman, T. (2012) Hayes: A History of a Kentish Village. Hayes: J. Wilson, Vol. 2, p. 48. 
11. Hayes Place, Hayes 1933. Accessed on 20 May 2014 at: http://www.ideal-homes.org.uk/bromley/assets/galleries/hayes/hayes-place. 
12. Wilson, J. & Woodman, T. (2012) Hayes: A History of a Kentish Village. Hayes: J. Wilson, Vol. 2, p. 53. 
13. Ibid.
14. Ibid.

Image Credits:

Figure 1: William Pitt, detail from mezzotint engraved by George Keating after Simon de Koster (published in 1794).

Figure 2: "View of Hayes Place in Kent,” by an anonymous artist, published in The New and Complete English Traveller (about 1784). Accessed on 18 May 2014 at: http://www.ancestryimages.com/proddetail.php?prod=e7931.

Figure 3: The Library at Hayes Place (early 20^th century). Image from p. 245 of Wilson, J. & Woodman, T. (2012) Hayes: A History of a Kentish Village. Hayes: J. Wilson.

Figure 4: Hayes Place (early 1930s) – not long before it was demolished to make way for the Hayes Place housing development. Accessed on 20 May 2014 from: http://www.ideal-homes.org.uk/bromley/assets/galleries/hayes/hayes-place.

Figure 5: Hayes Place Gates – now at the entrance to Concord Park in Sheffield. Image from p. 53 of Wilson, J. & Woodman, T. (2012) Hayes: A History of a Kentish Village. Hayes: J. Wilson.

Figure 6: Memorial to William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, and his son William Pitt the Younger, inside St. Mary the Virgin church, Hayes (my photo).

Stephenie Woolterton has an MSc in Social Research, and a background in Psychology. She is currently researching and writing her first book on the private life of William Pitt the Younger. She is also working on a historical novel about Pitt’s ‘one love story’ with Eleanor Eden. 

She blogs at: http://anoondayeclipse.blogspot.co.uk, and can be contacted via Twitter at: www.twitter.com/anoondayeclipse.

Written content of this post copyright © Stephenie Woolterton, 2014.

A Salon Guest... Mary Elizabeth, Countess of Chatham

It is a pleasure to welcome back the fabulous Jacqui Reiter with the heartbreaking tale of Mary, Countess of Chatham.

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Mary Elizabeth, Countess of Chatham

I would like to introduce you to the beautiful, tragic and virtually unknown Mary, Countess of Chatham, who died 193 years ago today. She was the sister-in-law of prime minister William Pitt the Younger and confidante of several royal princesses, yet teasing her life out of the historical record is not easy. She was a shy and deeply private person who lacked the ambitious thrust that made a good political hostess; she also suffered most of her life from chronic ill-health. The more I've found out about her, however, the more I like her, and studying her life has provided its fair share of surprises.

She was born Mary Elizabeth Townshend on 2 September 1762, the second child of Thomas Townshend, later Lord Sydney. She and her six surviving siblings grew up at Frognall, near Chislehurst, Kent. Townshend's political patron was William Pitt the Elder, Earl of Chatham, whose country residence at Hayes was only a few miles from Frognall. The Townshend children were only a little younger than the Pitt children and the two families saw a great deal of each other.[1]

Frognall, Chislehurst, Kent

By the summer of 1782 Mary had attracted the attention of John Pitt, 2nd Earl of Chatham. He was six years Mary's senior and had just come back from military service in the West Indies. It was a love match between childhood sweethearts and when John proposed on 5 June 1783 Lord Sydney was delighted: “We feel at present the full Value of the Vicinity of Hayes & Frognall, which I have indeed long been used to look upon as one of the most fortunate Circumstances of my Life”.[2] The wedding took place on 10 July 1783 at the Sydneys' house on Albemarle Street. Mary brought a dowry of £2000 and £3000 worth of West India stock.[3] The couple settled into Lord Chatham's new house on Berkeley Square, where they were joined by Chatham's brother William.

John Pitt, 2nd Earl of Chatham by Valentine Green, after John Hoppner mezzotint, 1799

The household was almost immediately plunged into the events surrounding Pitt the Younger's rise to power as prime minister. The house was a major political hub from November 1783 until Pitt moved into 10 Downing Street in April 1784. It should have been an excellent opportunity for the new Countess of Chatham to become the government's hostess, but that role fell to the Duchess of Rutland and Lady Salisbury. Mary's character was not suited to political sparring, and in any case by early 1784 she was severely unwell.

Throughout her life Mary suffered from a mysterious “rheumatic” complaint. In April 1784—at the height of the general election that confirmed Pitt in power—Mary was at her worst. “It is really quite horrid to think how much she has suffered,” Mary's sister Georgiana wrote to the Dowager Countess of Chatham: “... what would I give to see her walk again!”[4] She was not totally well until the end of the year, and relapsed in the summer of 1785.[5] The illness left her permanently lame and drove her to seek help from the fashionable surgeon Miles Partington. His “electrical therapy” sounds highly unpleasant, but Mary found “great benefit from being Electrified” and continued with the therapy as late as 1796.[6] Mary's condition, whatever it was, may have been exacerbated by miscarriages. She never carried a child to term but she was certainly pregnant at least once, in November 1786.[7]

Despite this ill health Mary did have a public role. When her husband was made First Lord of the Admiralty in 1788 she took on the duties of a cabinet member's wife. She was active in the 1788 by-election at Westminster in which the Pittite Lord Hood challenged the Foxite Lord John Townshend for the constituency's second seat. Mary and her sister were out canvassing every day. “We were very successful indeed yesterday, & I hope shall be so today,” Georgiana reported, but Hood eventually lost the election.[8]

Mary's signature on her marriage settlement, July 1783

The following year Mary joined the Duchesses of Gordon and Rutland as a Patroness of White's Club's ball at the Pantheon to celebrate the King's recovery from insanity.[9] She showed her ability to keep calm under pressure when she more or less single-handedly organised an unexpected visit by the Royal Family to Greenwich in February 1793, coolly making arrangements for feeding and accommodating the King and Queen for the visit.[10] It was Mary who first publicly announced news of the naval victory of the Glorious First of June at the Opera in 1794; and when her husband returned to his military career, she followed him to all his home-based postings and entertained the Royal Family during several military reviews.[11] She was an object of admiration at Court whenever she appeared: “LADY CHATHAM was very elegantly dressed in white, embroidered with spangles, with two long wreaths of laural leaves across the petticoat”; “LADY CHATHAM: a very rich dress. The body and train white sattin; petticoat the same, covered with crape, superbly embroidered with stones, purple and green foil, and gold spangles”; “white satin petticoat elegantly embroidered with gold vermicelli … the most superb border of purple velvet, beautifully spangled … with rich embroidered tassels”.[12]

Even so, Mary rarely pushed herself forwards. She was neither robust nor adventurous, and she did not wish to be involved in politics: “The Cabinet dine here, and I must get out of their way”.[13] It was evidently her wish to stay in the background as much as possible:

“She from the yielding of her gentle heart,

Still walked fair honor's handmaid, early spurned

The flaunting scenes of Court parade, to act

The humble duties of Domestic life...”[14]

Very few letters of Mary's survive: none to her husband, and only a handful to her brother-in-law, all about patronage and layered in apologies: “Adieu, my dear Mr Pitt, forgive my plaguing you, & believe me, Yours most affectionately ME Chatham”.[15] Some thought Mary and Pitt did not get on, but I'm not convinced.[16]  When Pitt died in January 1806 Mary's devastation was so great she had a nervous breakdown. “Lady Chatham is seriously ill,” the Bishop of Lincoln wrote. “She has fretted herself with a delirious Fever”.[17] She was so ill Chatham doubted he could attend his brother's funeral, but she recovered enough by the middle of February to allow him to go.[18]

Letter from Mary to Pitt, PRO 30/08/122 f 174

Alas it was only the first of several bouts of depression. In 1807 she had a lengthy collapse. She put a brave face on for the world, drugging herself up to attend assemblies and Court drawing-rooms, but she was unable to keep her condition secret. This was around the time that Lord Chatham was being considered as a replacement for the ailing First Lord of the Treasury, the Duke of Portland, and Mary's illness encouraged him to decline: “Lady Chatham is much disordered in her senses, and that circumstance is said to have confirmed Lord Chatham in his determination not to succeed to the Duke of Portland”.[19] Mary's illness may also help explain why Chatham did not serve in the Peninsula.

Mary recovered enough for her husband to agree (disastrously) to command the failed expedition to Walcheren in 1809. She followed Chatham into retirement and, for a while, they seem to have enjoyed being out of the public eye. In March 1818, however, Mary had a serious relapse. In February 1819 her distraught husband managed to persuade her to stay with her brother and sister at Frognall, but the change of scene did not help and by September she was hysterical, self-harming and suicidal.[20] Her physician Sir Henry Halford suggested straitjacketing, which Chatham flatly refused to do. Nothing helped and Mary drifted in and out of depression for the next year.[21]

She recovered enough in 1821 for her husband to announce his determination to take up his post as Governor of Gibraltar, which he had held since January 1820, and for Mary to re-emerge into society.[22] On 12 May she was recorded as one of the patronesses of a ball to be held on the 28th.[23] On the 21st, however, at five o'clock in the evening, Mary died at Lord Chatham's house in Hill Street, London, aged only fifty-eight. The Morning Post described her death as “very sudden”, yet every newspaper that ran her obituary stated Mary “had been indisposed nearly two years”.[24]

Image 6: 38 Hill Street, now the Naval Club, where Mary died: photograph by Stephenie Woolterton

Given her age and the nature of her “indisposition”, not to mention the fact that her death seems to have been unexpected, I cannot help wondering if it was self-inflicted. Perhaps the prospect of Chatham's departure for Gibraltar helped push her over the edge. Of course it is possible her death was entirely natural: she had, after all, never been physically strong.

She was buried on 30 May 1821 in the Pitt family vault at Westminster Abbey. “Her body was deposited in great state,” the Gentleman's Magazine recorded, “... and was followed by 50 carriages of the Nobility, &c”.[25] It was a tragic ending for the young girl who first appeared as Countess of Chatham in July 1783, “dressed in white sattin, richly trimmed with silver fringe &c. Her head-dress was elegant, and she looked very beautiful”.[26]

Jacqui Reiter has a PhD in 18th century British political history. She is currently working on her first novel, which deals with the second Earl of Chatham's troubled relationship with his brother William Pitt the Younger. She blogs at http://alwayswantedtobeareiter.wordpress.com/

References

[1] Andrew Tink, Lord Sydney: the life and times of Tommy Townshend (Melbourne, 2011), p. 152

[2] Lord Sydney to Lady Chatham, 13 July 1783, PRO 30/8/60 f 207

[3] Marriage settlement of the 2nd Earl of Chatham and Mary Elizabeth Townshend, 5 July 1783, Bromley Archives 1080/3/1/1/26

[4] Georgiana Townshend to the Dowager Countess of Chatham, 20 April 1784, National Archives PRO 30/8/64 f 167

[5] Rev. Edward Wilson to the Dowager Countess of Chatham, June 1785, PRO 30/8/67 f 110

[6] I am grateful to Lucinda Brant for providing me with information on Miles Partington. He detailed his theory on electrical therapy  in a 1779 treatise for the Royal Society entitled “A cure of a muscular contraction by electricity” (London, 1779). For Mary's treatment in the 1780s, see Georgiana Townshend to the Dowager Countess of Chatham, undated, National Archives PRO 30/8/64 f 170; for 1796, see Lord Bathurst to Earl Camden, 27 February 1796, Kent RO CKS-U840/C95/2. For Mary's lameness see the Dowager Countess of Chatham to William Pitt, 14 October 1795, National Archives PRO 30/8/10 f 31

[7] This is clear from Rev. Edward Wilson's congratulations to the Dowager Countess of Chatham: he notes that he received notice of Mary's pregnancy “from the very highest Authority”, presumably either Mary herself, or Lord Chatham. Wilson to the Dowager Countess of Chatham, 5 November 1786, National Archives PRO 30/8/67 f 134

[8] Georgiana Townshend to the Dowager Countess of Chatham, undated, PRO 30/8/64 f 187

[9] London Chronicle, 28 March 1789

[10] Georgiana Townshend to Catherine Stapleton, February 1793,  in Memoirs and Correspondence of Field-Marshal Viscount Combermere... vol 2 (London, 1866), 419-21

[11] For the Glorious First of June see Peter Jupp (ed), The Letter Journal of George Canning, 1793-5 (London, 1991), p. 121; for Mary following Chatham throughout his military career see the Prince of Wales to Lord Chatham, 2 September 1799, National Archives PRO 30/70/4 f 219 and William Pitt to Mary Chatham, 13 September 1798, National Archives PRO 30/8/101 f 141. For the military review see Princess Elizabeth to Mary Chatham, 22 June 1800, National Archives PRO 30/70/6/13/52, and the Whitehall Evening Post for 24 June 1800

[12] Times, 5 June 1793; Times, 19 January 1791; Lady's Magazine, vol XXXIII (1802), 40

[13] Mary Chatham to Catherine Stapleton, undated but after 1792, in Memoirs and Correspondence of Field-Marshal Viscount Combermere... vol 2 (London, 1866), 426

[14] Manuscript poem entitled “The Countess of Chatham”, Bromley Archives 1080/3/6/6/10

[15] Mary Chatham to William Pitt, undated but summer 1800, British Library Add MSS 89036/1/17 f 44

[16] “his Sister-in-Law, Lady Chatham, could not bear him”: in The Jerningham Letters (1780-1843)... vol 1 (London, 1896), 322

[17] George Tomline, Bishop of Lincoln, to Elizabeth Tomline, 31 January 1806, Ipswich RO HA 119/T99/26

[18] Lord Chatham to the Earl of Dartmouth, 6 February 1806, in HMC Manuscripts of the Earl of Dartmouth, p. 290

[19] Anonymous [possibly Mary's sister Georgiana Townshend] to Dr Henry Vaughan, 14 April 180[7], Leicestershire RO Halford MSS DG 24/819/1 and DG 24/819/2; Manuscripts of J.B. Fortescue preserved at Dropmore... IX (London, 1915), 171, Thomas Grenville to Lord Grenville, 9 January 1808
[20] Mary's 1818-20 illness is documented in some detail in the correspondence between Lord Chatham and George Tomline at Ipswich Record Office, HA 119/562/688. Mary's mental state in September is covered rather luridly in a long letter from Mrs Tomline to Sir Henry Halford, undated but early September 1819, Ipswich RO  HA 119/562/716

[21] Sir Henry Halford to Elizabeth Tomline, 10 September 1819, Ipswich RO HA 119/562/117 for the straitjacketing; and Lord Chatham to George Tomline, 22 September 1819, HA 119/562/688 for Chatham's refusal

[22] The Times, 30 April 1821

[23] Morning Post, 12 May 1821

[24] Morning Post, 23 May 1821. For the obituaries see the Morning Post itself, on 25 May 1821; also the Gentleman's Magazine vol 91 part 1, 565; European Magazine and London Review vols 79-80, 561; The Examiner 1821, 335

[25] Gentleman's Magazine vol 91 part 1, 565

[26] Morning Chronicle, 1 August 1783

Written content of this post copyright © Jacqui Reiter, 2014.

A Salon Guest... Collapse of the Earl of Chatham in the House of Lords, 7th April 1778

It is a pleasure to welcome Jacqui Reiter to the salon today with her tale of the Collapse of the Earl of Chatham. I am also taking part in the My Writing Process blog hop, so do gad over and have a read if that tickles your fancy!

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On the morning of Tuesday 7th April 1778, William Pitt, Earl of Chatham arrived at the Palace of Westminster from his country estate of Hayes Place. He was nearly seventy years old and had been suffering for some time from gout in the hands, but ill health could not keep him away from the House of Lords. In his opinion, the future prosperity of the country was at stake. 

The issue that called Chatham from his sickbed was a weighty one. General Burgoyne's disastrous surrender to the rebellious Americans at Saratoga on 17 October 1777 had opened a European free-for-all on a beleaguered Britain. France signed a treaty of alliance with America in February 1778 and Spain, too, looked likely to join the fray. Britain was fighting a war on two fronts. With the American war going badly, the opposition to Lord North's government called for peace.

Chatham was one of the war's foremost critics, horrified at the prospect of alienating the Colonies he had secured for Britain during the Seven Years War. At the same time he was staunchly against admitting America's independence, for he believed America was 'the great source of all our wealth and power'.[1] 'I will as soon subscribe to Transubstantiation as to Sovereignty (by right) in the Colonies,' Chatham fulminated to Lord Shelburne.[2]

Bad physical and mental health (including a minor stroke) had kept him out of politics for years, but Chatham had recently attempted a political comeback. As late as February 1778 there had been rumours the King was about to call on him to form a new government (the King had different views: 'honestly I would rather lose the Crown I now wear' than submit to Chatham and his ilk).[3] Chatham was old but still had influence, which was why the Duke of Richmond wrote to apprise him of the opposition's intention to move an Address calling for the Crown to acknowledge American independence and sue for peace.[4]

Richmond must have hoped Chatham would support the Address, or at least remain neutral, but Chatham immediately made his way to Parliament to oppose it. Ill health, however, had taken its toll. Lord Camden, Chatham's old political associate, later reported to the Duke of Grafton: 'Such was the feeble state of his body, and, indeed, the distempered agitation of his mind, that I did forbode that his strength would certainly fail him … in truth, he was not on a condition to go abroad, and he was earnestly requested not to make the attempt; but your Grace knows how obstinate he is when he is resolved'.[5]

Chatham came into the Lords supported on the arms of his second son, William Pitt, and his son-in-law Charles, Lord Mahon. Onlookers remembered him 'lapped up in flannel, pale and emaciated … he looked like a dying man'.[6] Richmond outlined his motion and Lord Weymouth replied for North's government. At last Chatham rose. He 'was not like himself,' Camden wrote. 'His speech faltered, his sentences [were] broken, and his mind [was] not master of itself. He made shift, with difficulty, to declare his opinion, but was not able to enforce it by argument. His words were shreds of unconnected eloquence, and flashes of the same fire which he, Prometheus-like, had stolen from heaven, and were then returning to the place from whence they were taken'.[7]

Even so, Chatham did utter some powerful, memorable lines:

'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 ancient and most noble monarchy! … Shall we tarnish the lustre of this nation by an ignominious surrender of its rights and fairest possessions? Shall this great kingdom … fall prostrate before the House of Bourbon? … Shall a people that seventeen years ago was the terror of the world, now stoop so low as to tell its ancient inveterate enemy, take all we have, only give us peace? It is impossible! … Any state is better than despair. Let us at least make one effort; and if we must fall, let us fall like men!'[8]

Richmond replied briefly, reiterating 'there is not a person present who more sincerely wishes that America should remain dependent on this country … but … I am convinced that it is now totally impracticable'. He argued it was far better 'to retain them as allies' than 'throw [them] … into the arms of France'.[9] When Richmond finished Chatham struggled to his feet again. None present would forget what happened next.

'He fell back upon his seat,' Camden recalled to Grafton, ' and was to all appearance in the agonies of death. This threw the whole House into confusion; every person was upon his legs in a moment',[10] To his daughter Elizabeth, Camden was more graphic: 'You may conceive better than I can describe the Hurry & Confusion[,] the Expressions of Grieff & astonishment that broke out & actuated the whole Assembly. Every man seemed affected more or less except ye E[arl] of M[ansfield, an old political adversary of Chatham's] who kept his seat & remained as much unmoved as the Poor Man himself who was stretch's Senseless across a Bench'.[11]

Chatham was carried to the Prince's Chamber, where he was propped up with cushions and attended by Richard Brocklesby, a physician who luckily happened to be close by. Chatham's two younger sons William and James were present, and possibly also his eldest son John. One can only imagine what they must have felt on seeing their father fall. While Chatham slowly recovered his senses, Richmond adjourned the debate until the following day as a gesture of respect.

'I hope for the best,' Camden concluded his letter to his daughter, 'but according to my desponding temper, I fear the worst.'[12] Camden was right to do so. Although Chatham recovered enough to be moved to Hayes the next day, he had suffered what was probably a severe stroke. He lingered for just over a month and died on 11 May. Parliament voted to pay his debts and give him a public funeral in Westminster Abbey. 

Engraving of Copley's “Death of the Earl of Chatham”

It was a fitting end for a man whose political style could best be described as theatrical: in the (somewhat cynical) words of Chatham's political heir Lord Shelburne, 'always made up, and never natural'.[13] Certainly it was a memorable exit, and the American portrait artist John Singleton Copley decided to commemorate the occasion for posterity in a magisterial painting. This painting is currently on display in the National Portrait Gallery, London, and makes as much an impression on the viewer now as it must have done two hundred years ago.


Jacqui Reiter has a PhD in 18th century British political history. She is currently working on her first novel, which deals with the second Earl of Chatham's troubled relationship with his brother William Pitt the Younger. She blogs at http://alwayswantedtobeareiter.wordpress.com/

References

[1] Marie Peters, The Elder Pitt (London, 1998), p. 222
[2] Basil Williams, The Life of William Pitt, Earl of Chatham (London, 1915) II, 323
[3] Peters, p. 223; Jeremy Black, Pitt the Elder (Cambridge, 1992), p. 298
[4] Richmond to Chatham, 5 April 1778, in Correspondence of William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, ed. W.S. Taylor and J.H. Pringle (London, 1840) IV, 517-8
[5] Camden to Grafton, 9 April 1778, in John Campbell, Lives of the Lord Chancellors of England (London, 1851) V, 253-4
[6] William Seward, Anecdotes of Distinguished Persons … (London, 1804) II, 383
[7] Campbell V, 253-4
[8] The Parliamentary History of England … ed. William Cobbett (London, 1814) XIX, col 1023
[9] Parliamentary History XIX, col 1028
[10] Campbell V, 253-4
[11] Camden to Elizabeth Pratt, 9 April 1778, Kent RO CKS-U840/C173/30
[12] Camden to Elizabeth Pratt, 9 April 1778, Kent RO CKS-U840/C173/30
[13] Stanley Ayling, The Elder Pitt (London, 1976), p. 428

Written content of this post copyright © Jacqui Reiter, 2014.