London Fog

Undoubtedly the House of Commons seem to be wild at present, and to be running on to ruin,” King George III wrote Lord North on February 26, 1782.

The recently arrived news of Cornwallis’s surrender at Yorktown covered St. James Palace in a dense fog that threatened to last a long, long time. “I [will] do what I can to save the empire, and, if I do not succeed, I will at least have the self-approbation of having done my duty, and of not letting myself be a tool in the destruction of the honour of the country,” the king wrote despondently. Nothing, not even the latest expansion project at Buckingham Palace, could distract his attention.

But as was his habit, the king chose moping over maturity. He selected sulking over a solution. The culmination of the war magnified the king’s weaknesses: his obstinacy, temper, mediocrity, sullenness, and inability to face reality. “It looks as if the House of Commons is going to lengths that could not have been expected. I am resolved not to throw myself into the hands of Opposition at all events, and shall certainly, if things go as they seem to lead, know what my conscience as well as honour dictates as the only way left for me,” the king wrote on March 17, 1782, after learning Parliament’s former majority for supporting the war had shrunk to fewer than ten members.

Lord North asked the king to meet with Parliament’s growing minority. But the king declared that his “sentiments of honor” would not allow him to “personally treat with them.” He was hurt that North even bothered to ask him to do something so beneath his dignity as listen to the opposition.

Within ten days, the fog lifted. Reality was clear and sharper than any sword in the armory at St. James Palace. “At last the fatal day has come which the misfortunes of the times and the sudden change of sentiments of the House of Commons have drove me to of changing the Ministry,” King George wrote of his decision to ask Lord North to resign. The Parliament had not suddenly changed its sentiments—the king had suddenly faced reality.

“I have to the last fought for individuals, but the number I have saved, except my Bedchamber, is incredibly few,” he wrote. The king’s “effusion” of sorrows, as he described them, continued. Parliament decided to enter into peace negotiations with America. Sir Guy Carleton, General Clinton’s replacement, would no longer execute a war, but instead would oversee the exodus of the British army from Savannah, Charleston, and ultimately, New York. Lord North’s departure opened Parliament’s floodgates of peace. When the conflict affected King George III’s inner circle, this English Pharaoh let his people go.

PRAYER

God, thank You for moving mountains and softening the hardest of hearts.