Charles Philip Yorke, Fourth Earl of Hardwicke, Vice-Admiral R.N., A Memoir | Page 7

of which he contented himself
with talking to him. He ordered him some medicine and was to see him
again in the evening. In the meantime Mr. Yorke was obliged to rise to
receive the different people who would crowd to him on this occasion,
but before he left me, he assured me that when the Duke of Grafton
came to him at night, he would resign the seals. When his company had
left him, he came up to me, and even then, death was upon his face. He
said he had settled all his affairs, that he should retire absolutely from
business, and would go to Highgate the next day, and that he was
resolved to meddle no more with public affairs. I was myself so ill with
fatigue and anxiety that I was not able to dine with him, but Dr.
Plumptre did; when I went to them after dinner I found Mr. Yorke in a

state of fixed melancholy. He neither spoke to me nor to Dr. Plumptre;
I tried every method to wake and amuse him, but in vain. I could
support it no longer, I fell upon my knees before him and begged of
him not to affect himself so much--that he would resume his fortitude
and trust to his own judgment--in short, I said a great deal which I
remember now no more; my sensations were little short of distraction
at that time. In an hour or two after he grew much worse, and Dr.
Watson coming in persuaded him to go to bed, and giving him a strong
opiate, he fell asleep.
But his rest was no refreshment; about the middle of the night he
awaked in a delirium, when I again sent for Dr. Watson; towards the
morning he was more composed, and at noon got up. In about an hour
after he was up, he was seized with a vomiting of blood. I was not with
him at the instant, but was soon called to him. He was almost
speechless, but on my taking his hand in an agony of silent grief he
looked tenderly on me, and said, "How can I repay your kindness, my
dear love; God will reward you, I cannot; be comforted." These were
the last words I heard him speak, for my nerves were too weak to
support such affliction. I was therefore prevented from being in his
room, and indeed I was incapable of giving him assistance. He lived till
the next day, when at five o'clock in the afternoon, he changed this life
for a better.'
Lord Hardwicke meanwhile had decided to follow the very friendly and
right opinion of Dr. Jeffreys, 'that he would do his best to support the
part which his brother had taken,' and came to town with that resolution
on 'Friday in the forenoon' but he found that Charles Yorke had been
taken very ill that morning.
'When I saw him on the evening of the 19th he was in bed and too
much disordered to be talked with. There was a glimmering of hope on
the 20th in the morning, but he died that day about five in the evening.
The patent of peerage had passed all the forms except the Great Seal,
and when my poor brother was asked if the seal should be put to it, he
waived it, and said "he hoped it was no longer in his custody." I can
solemnly declare that except what passed at my house on the

Wednesday forenoon, I had not the least difference with him
throughout the whole transaction, not a sharp or even a warm
expression passed, but we reasoned over the subject like friends and
brothers.... In short, the usage he met with in 1766 when faith was
broke with him, had greatly impaired his judgment, dejected his spirits,
and made him act below his superior knowledge and abilities. He
would seldom explain himself, or let his opinion be known in time to
those who were ready to have acted with him in the utmost confidence.
After the menacing language used in the closet to compel Mr. Yorke's
acceptance and the loss which the King sustained by his death at that
critical juncture, the most unprejudiced and dispassionate were
surprised at the little, or rather no notice which was taken of his family;
the not making an offer to complete the peerage was neither to be
palliated nor justified in their opinion. It was due to the Manes of the
departed from every motive of humanity and decorum. Lord
Hillsborough told a friend of mine, indeed, that the King had soon after
his death spoke of him with tears in his eyes and enquired after the
family, but it would surely not have misbecome his Majesty conscious
of