of this version,
which found no small favour with Continental historians of a former
generation; but it is now clear that the split occurred solely on
Catholic Emancipation. Those Ministers who approved it resigned; while
its opponents remained in office, namely, Portland, Chatham, and
Westmorland. The same is true of the subordinate offices. The new
Cabinet decided to grant only occasional relief and a "compassionate
allowance" to the Irish priests.[596] In several other matters its
policy differed from that of Pitt; and Addington soon made it apparent
that he was no stop-gap.

But now this clear issue was to be blurred in the blinding glare of the
King's lunacy. The causes of the malady of February 1801 were partly
physical, partly mental. While still agitated by the dismissal of his
trusted Minister, the King, two days later, went to church on the day
appointed for the National Fast. That day of supplication for delivery
from the perils of the time was shrouded in gloom and snow. He remained
a long time in church and took a chill. Nevertheless, with his wonted
energy he persisted in transacting business with Addington, until the
stress told on the brain. On the 16th slight feverish symptoms began to
develop. Yet Addington saw him often about new appointments, until on
Sunday the 22nd the symptoms caused some concern. Willis, son of the man
who had so much control over him during the illness of 1788-9, now came
to the Queen's House, and resumed the old regimen. Dr. Gisborne was also
in attendance. From the notes of Tomline we glean curious details about
the illness. The bilious symptoms were very pronounced, and after the
23rd the King became worse. His manner became nervous and "hurried." He
went up to Willis and shook him eagerly by the hand. When the Queen and
princesses rose to leave, he jocosely extended his arms so as to stop
them; whereupon Willis stepped forward, and, looking at him earnestly,
told him he was very ill. The King at once said with a deep sigh: "I
see, I cannot deceive you. I have deceived all the rest. They think me
well; but I cannot deceive you." He then burst into an agony of weeping,
threw himself into Willis's arms, and said: "You are right. I am ill
indeed. But oh! for God's sake, keep your father from me, and keep off a
Regency."

After weeping for a quarter of an hour, he walked about the room with
Willis for an hour and a half. In the evening he grew worse. At 2.30
a.m. he went to bed