The New Hampshire Gazette And Historical Chronicle

LONDON, April 30.

All the genuine Particulars relative to the Death of the late Lord Chancellor.

Various have been the reports relative to the death of the late Chancellor. Some will have it that he poisoned himself, others that he shot himself, others again, that he broke his heart and died with vexation: but the following is the truth of the case, which the public may rely on.

The Premier had for some time been importuning him to accept the seals, which he, fired with the principles of his noble family, had with a spirit becoming a truly great man often disdainfully refused. But as no one was thought more adequate to the purposes of ministerial intrigues, no stone was left unturned to bring him over. What could not be brought to bear with him, was effected through his wife: the Premier applied to her, she the true sister of arbitrary measures, swelled with the thought of being the lady of almost the first subject in the kingdom, and anxious to have a peerage for her own son, as well as her son-in-law, for that was to be the price of his accepting them, took him in the soft hours of dalliance, the mollia tempora fanda, and turned him to her purpose. She went immediately to the Duke of Grafton, made him acquainted with it, and told him she was convinced if his Majesty would send for him, and ask it as a favour, he would no longer withstand. The thing was done, and he was sent for and closeted; the favour was asked, and the seals accepted. On his return, he called on his friend the Marquis of Rockingham with whom he found Mr. Burke, and one or two of his old associates, who seemed pleased with the unexpected visit, but when he said, "I have accepted the seals," it struck them all of a heap. They could not believe what they heard, but when they found it was too true, his friend, the Marquis, could hold no longer, and instantly addressed him thus; "Mr. Yorke, for I still hope to call you so, I once looked upon you as an honest man inflexible to any mean thing, and as one who had no ambition but that of being instrumental to the good of society. Now I despise you. As Mr. Yorke, I was always happy to see you; as Chancellor never put your feet within my doors again." This spirited address was echoed by the whole company, and the Chancellor retired in disgrace. The Marquis immediately flew to Lord Hardwicke, the Chancellor's brother, told him the story, and urged him to go and insist on his immediate resignation. (for Mr. Yorke had great expectation from his brother:) Lord Hardwicke lost no time, but went to his house, and began with, "brother what's this I hear? they tell me you have accepted the seals? I have. Have; and are you not ashamed to own it? you have turned your back on those friends that have been the making of our family. What could induce you! honour? a place refused is more honourable than one accepted. Peerage? you wanted none; mine will fall into your family. And as to money you have enough; if not, you should have shared with me." Mr. Yorke, in his defence, urged his Majesty's great importunity, Lord Hardwicke interrupted him with "I'll have no replies--I come not to argue with the Chancellor, but lay my injunctions on my brother. If you have any future expectations from either me or mine, go instantly and resign." Mr. Yorke would fain have been excused alleging he knew not what plea to make. If you have no plea of your own, continued he, "go tell the King your friends will not let you keep them." In short he hurried him away, saying, he would wait his return. The Chancellor went, talking the matter over to his Majesty, but could not bring himself to give them up. On his entering his house again, Lord Hardwicke eagerly called out: "tell me, may I embrace you as my brother? I hope so, replied Mr. Yorke, but the King would not accept my resignation. Then said Lord Hardwicke leaving him, "adieu for ever thou meanest of men. I was once your sincerest friend, for the future consider me as your greatest enemy." Loaded with reproach and shame, the upbraiding of his friends, and the aggravation of his wife, with whom he was heard on Friday evening in loud altercation, he could support himself no longer, but flung out of the room where they were together with a cast of wildness in his eye, and ran immediately upstairs; his lady suspecting something that might not be right, instantly followed him, and was in his chamber almost as soon as he, but not time enough to prevent his cutting his throat with a knife he took out of his pocket as he was going up; he made an attempt also at cutting his wrist, but was not able to effect it thro' her interposition. As soon as she saw him bleeding she rung the bell and ordered her servant to fetch the first surgeon he could find; Mr. Langley of Gloucester-street was brought, and he sewed up the wound, which at that time did not appear mortal. But so determined was he on his own death, that some time after, he threw back his head and burst the stitches, which were again repaired. It was not long before several of the faculty were called in; he then seemed to have some little remorse for what he had done, and asked whether they thought he was out of danger: they replied, if he kept himself quiet and did not cough; however he could not avoid coughing, hurt himself some how or other, inwardly, and on Saturday evening DIED in the greatest agonies imaginable.