to refer]

On January 21, 1742, Pulteney brought forward a motion to refer all the
papers concerning the war, which had just been laid on the table, to a
select committee of the House, in order that the committee should
examine the papers, and report to the House concerning them. This was
simply a motion for a committee of inquiry into the manner in which
ministers were carrying on the war. The House was the fullest that had
been known for many years. Pulteney had 250 votes with him; Walpole
had only 253--a majority of three. Some of the efforts made {188} on
both sides to bring up the numbers on this occasion remind one of
Hogarth's picture of the "Polling Day," where the paralytic, the
maimed, the deaf, and the dying are carried up to record their vote.
Men so feeble from sickness that they could not stand were brought down
to the House wrapped up like mummies, and lifted through the division.
Walpole seems to have surpassed himself in the speech which he made in
his own defence. At least such is the impression we get from the
declaration of some of those who heard it, Pulteney himself among the
rest. Pulteney always sat near to Walpole on the Treasury bench;
Pulteney, of course, not admitting that he had in any way changed his
political principles since Walpole and he were friends and colleagues.
Pulteney offered to Walpole his warm congratulations on his speech, and
added, "Well, nobody can do what you can." Pulteney might afford to be
gracious. The victory of three was a substantial defeat. It was the
prologue to a defeat which was to be formal as well as substantial.
The Patriots were elated. The fruit of their long labors was about to
come at last.

All this was telling hard upon Walpole's health. We get melancholy
accounts of the cruel work which his troubles were making with that
frame which once might have seemed to be of iron. The robust animal
spirits which could hardly be kept down in former days had now changed
into a mournful and even a moping temperament. His son, Horace
Walpole, gives a very touching picture of him in these decaying years.
"He who was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow--for I have
frequently known him snore ere they had drawn his curtains--now never
sleeps above an hour without waking; and he who at dinner always forgot
he was minister, and was more gay and thoughtless than all the company,
now sits without speaking, and with his eyes fixed for an hour
togethe