Mr. Walpole) for malversation of public money. Cadogan lost
his place of Lieutenant of the Tower. Marlborough's daughters resigned
their posts of ladies of the bedchamber; and so complete was the Duke's
disgrace, that his son-in-law, Lord Bridgewater, was absolutely obliged
to give up his lodgings at St. James's, and had his half-pension,
as Master of the Horse, taken away. But I think the lowest depth of
Marlborough's fall was when he humbly sent to ask General Webb when he
might wait upon him; he who had commanded the stout old General, who
had injured him and sneered at him, who had kept him dangling in his
ante-chamber, who could not even after his great service condescend to
write him a letter in his own hand. The nation was as eager for peace as
ever it had been hot for war. The Prince of Savoy came amongst us, had
his audience of the Queen, and got his famous Sword of Honor, and strove
with all his force to form a Whig party together, to bring over the
young Prince of Hanover to do anything which might prolong the war, and
consummate the ruin of the old sovereign whom he hated so implacably.
But the nation was tired of the struggle: so completely wearied of it
that not even our defeat at Denain could rouse us into any anger, though
such an action so lost two years before would have set all England in
a fury. 'Twas easy to see that the great Marlborough was not with the
army. Eugene was obliged to fall back in a rage, and forego the dazzling
revenge of his life. 'Twas in vain the Duke's side asked, "Would we
suffer our arms to be insulted? Would we not send back the only
champion who could repair our honor?" The nation had had its bellyful of
fighting; nor could taunts or outcries goad up our Britons any more.

For a statesman that was always prating of liberty, and had the grandest
philosophic maxims in his mouth, it must be owned that Mr. St. John
sometimes rather acted like a Turkish than a Greek philosopher, and
especially fell foul of one unfortunate set of men, the men of letters,
with a tyranny a little extraordinary in a man who professed to respect
their calling so much. The literary controversy at this time was very
bitter, the Government side was the winning one, the popular one, and
I think might have been the merciful one. 'Twas natural that the
opposition should be peevish and cry out: some men did so from their
hearts, admiring the Duke of Marlborough's prodigious talents, and
deploring the disgrace