The Project Gutenberg eBook of William Pitt and the Great War, by J. Holland Rose.

England and France have held in their hands the fate of the world, especially that of European civilization. How much harm we have done one another: how much good we might have done!—Napoleon to Colonel Wilks, 20th April 1816.

In the former volume, entitled "William Pitt and National Revival," I sought to trace the career of Pitt the Younger up to the year 1791. Until then he was occupied almost entirely with attempts to repair the evils arising out of the old order of things. Retrenchment and Reform were his first watchwords; and though in the year 1785 he failed in his efforts to renovate the life of Parliament and to improve the fiscal relations with Ireland, yet his domestic policy in the main achieved a surprising success. Scarcely less eminent, though far less known, were his services in the sphere of diplomacy. In the year 1783, when he became First Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer, nearly half of the British Empire was torn away, and the remainder seemed to be at the mercy of the allied Houses of Bourbon. France, enjoying the alliance of Spain and Austria and the diplomatic wooings of Catharine II and Frederick the Great, gave the law to Europe.

By the year 1790 all had changed. In 1787 Pitt supported Frederick William II of Prussia in overthrowing French supremacy in the Dutch Netherlands; and a year later he framed with those two States an alliance which not only dictated terms to Austria at the Congress of Reichenbach but also compelled her to forego her far-reaching schemes on the lower Danube, and to restore the status quo in Central Europe and in her Belgian provinces. British policy triumphed over that of Spain in the Nootka Sound dispute of the year 1790, thereby[Pg viii] securing for the Empire the coast of what is now British Columbia; it also saved Sweden from a position of acute danger; and Pitt cherished the hope of forming a league of the smaller States, including the Dutch Republic, Denmark, Sweden, Poland, and, if possible, Turkey, which, with support from Great Britain and Prussia, would withstand the almost revolutionary schemes of the Russian and Austrian Courts.

These larger aims were unattainable. The duplicity of the Court of Berlin, the triumphs of the Russian arms on the Danube, and changes in the general diplomatic situation, enabled Catharine II to foil the efforts of Pitt in 1791. She worked her will on the Turks and not long after on the Poles; Sweden came to an understanding with her; and Prussia, slighting the British alliance, drew near to the new Hapsburg Sovereign, Leopold II. In fact, the events of the French Revolution in the year 1791 served to focus attention more and more upon Paris; and monarchs who had thought of little but the conquest or partition of weaker States now talked of a crusade to restore order at Paris, with Gustavus III of Sweden as the new Cœur de Lion. This occidentation of diplomacy became pronounced at the time of the attempted escape of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette to the eastern frontier at Midsummer 1791. Their capture at Varennes and their ignominious return to Paris are in several respects the central event of the French Revolution. The incident aroused both democrats and royalists to a fury which foredoomed to failure all attempts at compromise between the old order and the new. The fierceness of the strife in France incited monarchists in all lands to importunate demands for the extirpation of "the French plague"; and hence were set in motion forces which Pitt vainly strove to curb. War soon broke out in Central Europe. His endeavours to localize it were fruitless; and[Pg ix] thenceforth his chief task was to bring to an honourable close a conflict which he had not sought. It is therefore fitting that this study of the latter, less felicitous, but equally glorious part of his career should begin with a survey of the situation in Great Britain and on the Continent at the time of the incident at Varennes which opened a new chapter in the history of Europe.

In the present volume I have sought to narrate faithfully and as fully as is possible the story of the dispute with France, the chief episodes of the war, and the varied influences which it exerted upon political developments in these islands, including the early Radical movement, the Irish Rebellion of 1798, and other events which brought about the Union of the British and Irish Parliaments, the break up of the great national party at Westminster in 1801, and the collapse of the strength of Pitt early in the course of the struggle with the concentrated might of Napoleon.

That mighty drama dwarfs the actors. Even the French Emperor could not sustain the rôle which he aspired to play, and, failing to discern the signs of the times, was whirled aside by the forces which he claimed to control. Is it surprising that Pitt, more slightly endowed by nature, and beset by the many limitations which hampered the advisers of George III, should have sunk beneath burdens such as no other English statesman has been called upon to bear? The success or failure of such a career is, however, to be measured by the final success or failure of his policy; and in this respect, as I have shown, the victor in the Great War was not Napoleon but Pitt.

To that high enterprise he consecrated all the powers of his being. His public life is everything; his private life, unfortunately, counts for little. The materials for reconstructing it are meagre. I have been able here and[Pg x] there to throw new light on his friendships, difficulties, trials, and, in particular, on the love episode of the year 1797. But in the main the story of the life of Pitt must soar high above the club and the salon to

Again I must express my hearty thanks to those who have generously placed at my disposal new materials of great value, especially to His Grace the Duke of Portland, the Earl of Harrowby, Earl Stanhope, E. G. Pretyman, Esq., M.P., and A. M. Broadley, Esq.; also to the Rev. William Hunt, D.Litt., and Colonel E. M. Lloyd, late R.E., for valuable advice tendered during the correction of the proofs, and to Mr. Hubert Hall of H.M. Public Record Office for assistance during my researches there. I am also indebted to Lord Auckland and to Messrs. Longmans for permission to reproduce the miniature of the Hon. Miss Eden which appeared in Lord Ashbourne's "Pitt, Some Chapters of his Life and Times," and to Mr. and Mrs. Doulton for permission to my daughter to make the sketch of Bowling Green House, the last residence of Pitt, which is reproduced near the end of this volume. In the preface to the former volume I expressed my acknowledgements to recent works bearing on this subject; and I need only add that numerous new letters of George III, Pitt, Grenville, Burke, Canning, etc., which could only be referred to here, will be published in a work entitled "Pitt and Napoleon Miscellanies," including also essays and notes.

chapter		page
I.	Royalists and Radicals	1
II.	Before the Storm	29
III.	Peace or War?	57
IV.	The Rupture with France	85
V.	The Flemish Campaign (1793)	118
VI.	Toulon	143
VII.	The British Jacobins	164
VIII.	Pitt and the Allies (1794–5)	195
IX.	The West Indies	219
X.	Spain and Hayti	230
XI.	The Cape of Good Hope: Corsica: Quiberon	250
XII.	Pitt as War Minister (1793–8)	265
XIII.	Dearth and Discontent	282
XIV.	The Years of Strain (1796–7)	299
XV.	National Revival	321
XVI.	The Irish Rebellion	339
XVII.	The Second Coalition	365
XVIII.	The Union	389
XIX.	The Union (continued)	411
XX.	Resignation	431
XXI.	Pitt and his Friends (1794–1805)	454
XXII.	Addington or Pitt?	483
XXIII.	Pitt and Napoleon	505
XXIV.	The Last Struggle	534
	Epilogue	559
	Statistics of the years 1792–1801	571
	Index	573

CHAPTER I

In the midst of a maze of events there may sometimes be found one which serves as a clue, revealing hidden paths, connecting ways which seem far apart, and leading to a clear issue. Such was the attempted flight of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette to the eastern frontier of France at midsummer 1791, which may be termed the central event of the French Revolution, at least in its first phases. The aim of joining the armed bands of émigrés and the forces held in readiness by Austria was so obvious as to dispel the myth of "a patriot King" misled for a time by evil counsellors. True, the moderates, from sheer alarm, still sought to save the monarchy, and for a time with surprising success. But bolder men, possessed both of insight and humour, [Pg 2]perceived the futility of all such efforts to hold down on the throne the father of his people lest he should again run away. In this perception the young Republican party found its genesis and its inspiration. In truth, the attempted flight of the King was a death-blow to the moderate party, into which the lamented leader, Mirabeau, had sought to infuse some of his masterful energy. Thenceforth, the future belonged either to the Jacobins or to the out and out royalists.

These last saw the horizon brighten in the East. Louis XVI being under constraint in Paris, their leaders were the French Princes, the Comte de Provence (afterwards Louis XVIII) and the Comte d'Artois (Charles X). Around them at Coblentz there clustered angry swarms of French nobles, gentlemen, and orthodox priests, whose zeal was reckoned by the earliness of the date at which they had "emigrated." For many months the agents of these émigrés had vainly urged the Chanceries of the Continent to a royalist crusade against the French rebels; and it seemed appropriate that Gustavus III of Sweden should be their only convert. Now of a sudden their demands appeared, instinct with statecraft; and courtiers everywhere exclaimed that "the French pest" must be stamped out. In that thought lay in germ a quarter of a century of war.

Already the Prussian and Austrian Governments had vaguely discussed the need of a joint intervention in France. In fact this subject formed one of the pretexts for the missions of the Prussian envoy, Bischoffswerder, to the Emperor Leopold in February and June 1791.[2] As was shown at the close of the former volume, "William Pitt and National Revival," neither Court took the matter seriously, the Eastern Question being then their chief concern. But the flight to Varennes, which Leopold had helped to arrange, imposed on him the duty of avenging the ensuing insults to his sister. He prepared to do so with a degree of caution highly characteristic of him. He refused to move until he knew the disposition of the Powers, especially of England. From Padua, where the news of the capture of Louis at Varennes reached him, he wrote an autograph letter to George III, dated 6th July, urging him to join in a general demand for the liberation of the King and Queen of France. He also invited the monarchs of Europe to launch a Declaration, that they regarded the cause of Louis [Pg 3]as their own, and in the last resort to put down a usurpation of power which it behoved all Governments to repress.[3]

The reply of George, dated St. James's, 23rd July, bears the imprint of the cool and cautious personality of Pitt and Grenville, who in this matter may be counted as one. The King avowed his sympathy with the French Royal Family and his interest in the present proposals, but declared that his attitude must depend on his relations to other Powers. He therefore cherished the hope that the Emperor would consult the welfare of the whole of Europe by aiding in the work of pacification between Austria and Turkey now proceeding at Sistova. So soon as those negotiations were completed, he would instruct his Ministers to consider the best means of cementing a union between the Allies and the Emperor.[4]

Leopold must have gnashed his teeth on reading this reply, which beat him at his own game of finesse. He had used the difficulties of England as a means of escaping from the pledges plighted at the Conference of Reichenbach in July 1790. Pitt and Grenville retorted by ironically refusing all help until he fulfilled those pledges. As we have seen, they succeeded; and the pacification in the East, as also in Belgium, was the result.

Equally chilling was the conduct of Pitt towards the émigrés. The French Princes at Coblentz had sent over the former French Minister, Calonne, "to solicit from His Majesty an assurance of his neutrality in the event ... of an attempt being made by the Emperor and other Powers in support of the royal party in France." Pitt and Grenville refused to receive Calonne, and sent to the Comte d'Artois a letter expressing sympathy with the situation of the King and Queen of France, but declining to give any promise as to the line of conduct which the British Government might pursue.[5]

No less vague were the terms in which George III replied to a letter of the King of Sweden. Gustavus had for some little [Pg 4]time been at Aix-la-Chapelle in the hope of leading a royalist crusade into France as a sequel to the expected escape of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. As readers of Carlyle will remember, the Swedish noble, Count Fersen, chivalrously helped their flight towards Metz; and deep was the chagrin of Gustavus and his squire on hearing the news from Varennes. They longed to strike at once. But how could they strike while Leopold, Catharine, and Frederick William declared that everything must depend on the action of England? The following significant sentence in Fersen's diary shows the feeling prevalent at Brussels, as elsewhere, respecting England: "We must know if that Power regards the continuation of anarchy in France as more advantageous than order."[6] Fersen had imbibed this notion at Brussels from Count Mercy d'Argenteau, the Austrian Minister, whose letters often harp on this string. Thus on 7th March 1791 he writes: "The worst obstacles for the King of France will always come from England, which wishes to prolong the horrors in France and ruin her." A little later he avers that the only way to save the French monarchy is by a civil war, "and England (unless won over) will support the popular party."[7]

In order to win Pitt over to the cause of neutrality from which he never intended to swerve, Gustavus and Fersen persuaded an Englishman named Crawford to proceed to London with letters for George III and Pitt, dated 22nd July.[8] To the King he described the danger to all Governments which must ensue if the French revolted with impunity. He therefore begged to know speedily whether His Majesty would accord full liberty "to the Princes of Germany and to those, who, owing to the long distance, can only arrive by sea."[9] Evidently, then, Gustavus feared lest England might stop the fleet in which he intended to convey Swedish and Russian troops to the coast of Normandy for a dash at Paris. The answer of George soothed these fears, and [Pg 5]that of Pitt, dated August 1791, was a model of courtly complaisance.

Compared with the shrewd balancings of the Emperor Leopold and the cold neutrality of Pitt, the policy of Frederick William II of Prussia seemed for a time to be instinct with generosity. Despite the fears of his counsellors that a rapprochement to Austria would involve Prussia in the ruin which the friendship of the Hapsburgs had brought on France, the King turned eagerly towards Vienna; and on 25th July Kaunitz and Bischoffswerder signed a preliminary treaty of alliance mutually guaranteeing their territories, and agreeing to further the aims of the Emperor respecting France. Frederick William was on fire for the royalist crusade. He even assured Baron Rolle, the agent of the French princes, that something would be done in that season.[10] Pitt and Grenville disapproved the action of Prussia in signing this compact, impairing as it did the validity of the Anglo-Prussian alliance of the year 1788; but Frederick William peevishly asserted his right to make what treaties he thought good, and remarked that he was now quits with England for the bad turns she had played him.[11] On their side, the British Ministers, by way of marking their disapproval of the warlike counsels of Berlin and Vienna, decided not to send an envoy to Pilnitz, the summer abode of the Elector of Saxony, where a conference was arranged between Leopold and Frederick William.

As is well known, the Comte d'Artois and Calonne now cherished lofty hopes of decisive action by all the monarchs against the French rebels. But Leopold, with his usual caution, repelled alike the solicitations of Artois and the warlike counsels of Frederick William, the result of their deliberations being the famous Declaration of Pilnitz (27th August). In it they expressed the hope that all the sovereigns of Europe

will not refuse to employ, in conjunction with their said Majesties, the most efficient means in proportion to their resources, to place the King of France in a position to establish with the most absolute freedom, the foundations of a monarchical form of government, which shall at once be in harmony with the rights of sovereigns and promote the welfare of the French nation. In that case [alors et dans ce cas] their [Pg 6]said Majesties, the Emperor and the King of Prussia, are resolved to act promptly and in common accord with the forces necessary to attain the desired common end.

Obviously, the gist of the whole Declaration lay in the words alors et dans ce cas. If they be emphasized, they destroy the force of the document; for a union of all the monarchs was an impossibility, it being well known that England would not, and Sardinia, and Naples (probably also Spain) could not, take up arms. In fact, on that very evening Leopold wrote to Kaunitz that he had not in the least committed himself.—"Alors et dans ce cas is with me the law and the prophets. If England fails us, the case is non-existent." Further, when the Comte d'Artois, two days later, urged the Emperor to give effect to the Declaration by ordering his troops to march westwards, he sent a sharp retort, asserted that he would not go beyond the Declaration, and forbade the French Princes to do so.[12]

To the good sense and insight of Grenville and Pitt, the Pilnitz Declaration was one of the comédies augustes of history, as Mallet du Pan termed it. Grenville saw that Leopold would stay his hand until England chose to act, meanwhile alleging her neutrality as an excuse for doing nothing.[13] Thus, the resolve of Catharine to give nothing but fair words being already surmised, the émigrés found to their annoyance that Pitt's passivity clogged their efforts—the chief reason why they shrilly upbraided him for his insular egotism. Certainly his attitude was far from romantic; but surely, after the sharp lesson which he had received from the House of Commons in the spring of 1791 during the dispute with Russia, caution was needful; and he probably discerned a truth hidden from the émigrés, that an invasion of France for the rescue of the King and Queen would seal their doom and increase the welter in that unhappy land.

Pitt and Grenville spent the middle of September at Weymouth in attendance on George III; and we can imagine their satisfaction at the prospect of universal peace and prosperity. Pitt consoled himself for the not very creditable end to the Russian negotiation by reflecting that our revenue was steadily rising. "We are already £178,000 gainers in this quarter," he wrote to George Rose on 10th August.[14] In fact, the cyclonic [Pg 7]disturbances of the past few years now gave place to a lull. The Russo-Turkish War had virtually ended; Catharine and Gustavus were on friendly terms; the ferment in the Hapsburg dominions had died down, except in Brabant; the Poles were working their new constitution well; and, but for Jacobin propaganda in Italy and the Rhineland, the outlook was serene.

At this time, too, there seemed a chance of a reconciliation between Louis XVI and his people. On 14th September he accepted the new democratic constitution, a step which filled France with rejoicing and furnished the desired excuse for Leopold to remain passive. Kaunitz, who had consistently opposed intervention in France, now asserted that Louis had voluntarily accepted the constitution. The action of Louis and Marie Antoinette was in reality forced. Amidst the Queen's expressions of contempt for the French Princes at Coblentz, the suppressed fire of her fury against her captors flashes forth in this sentence written to Mercy d'Argenteau (28th August)—"The only question for us is to lull them to sleep and inspire them with confidence so as to trick them the better afterwards."—And again (12th September)—"My God! Must I, with this blood in my veins, pass my days among such beings as these, and in such an age as this?" Leopold must have known her real feelings; but he chose to abide by the official language of Louis, and to advise the Powers to accept the new situation.[15]

This peaceful turn of affairs sorely troubled the French Princes and Burke. In August and September 1791 his son Richard was at Coblentz, and informed his father of the consternation of the émigrés on hearing that the Emperor declined to draw the sword. Burke himself was equally agitated, and on or about 24th September had a long interview with Pitt and Grenville, at the house of the latter. We gather from Burke's "Letters on the Conduct of our Domestic Parties," that it was the first time he had met Pitt in private; and the meeting must have been somewhat awkward. After dining, with Grenville as host, the three men conferred together till eleven o'clock, discussing the whole situation "very calmly" (says Burke); but we can fancy the tumult of feelings in the breast of the old man when he found both Ministers firm as adamant against intervention in France. "They are certainly right as to their general [Pg 8]inclinations," he wrote to his son, "perfectly so, I have not a shadow of doubt; but at the same time they are cold and dead as to any attempt whatsoever to give them effect." The heat of the Irish royalist failed to kindle a spark of feeling in the two cousins. He found that their "deadness" proceeded from a rooted distrust of the Emperor Leopold, and from a conviction that Britain had nothing to fear from Jacobinical propaganda. Above all they believed that the present was not the time for action, especially as the imminence of bankruptcy in France would discredit the new Legislative Assembly, and render an invasion easier in the near future.

Are we to infer from this that Pitt and his cousin looked forward to a time when the monarchs could invade France with safety? Such an inference would be rash. It is more probable that they here found an excuse for postponing their decision and a means of calming an insistent visitor. Certainly they impressed Burke with a belief in their sincere but secret sympathy with the royalist cause. The three men also agreed in suspecting Leopold, though Burke tried to prove that his treachery was not premeditated, but sprang from "some complexional inconstancy." Pitt and Grenville, knowing the doggedness with which the Emperor pushed towards his goal, amidst many a shift and turn, evidently were not convinced.

At this time they had special reasons for distrusting Leopold and his advisers. The Austrian Government had received a letter, dated Dresden, 27th August (the day of the Declaration of Pilnitz), stating that England promised to remain neutral only on condition that the Emperor would not withdraw any troops from his Belgic lands, as they were needed to uphold the arrangements of which she was a guarantee. This extraordinary statement grew out of a remark of Grenville to the Austrian Ambassador in London, that, in view of the unrest in the Netherlands, it might be well not to leave them without troops.[16] The mis-statement was not only accepted at Vienna, but was forwarded to various Courts, the final version being that England might attack Austria if she withdrew her troops from Flanders, and that therefore Leopold could not draw the sword against [Pg 9]France until his army on the Turkish borders arrived in Swabia. Some were found who believed this odd farrago; but those who watched the calculating balance of Hapsburg policy saw in it one more excuse for a masterly inactivity.

Still less were our Ministers inclined to unite with Catharine in the universal royalist league then under discussion at St. Petersburg. The Czarina having charged her ambassador, Vorontzoff, to find out the sentiments of Pitt and Grenville on this subject, he replied that England would persevere in the strict neutrality which she had all along observed, "and that, with respect to the measures of active intervention which other Powers might have in contemplation, it was His Majesty's determination not to take any part either in supporting or in opposing them." Now Russia, like Austria and Spain, had decided not to act unless England joined the concert;[17] and this waiting on the action of a Power which had already declared its resolve to do nothing enables us to test the sincerity of the continental monarchs. As for the Czarina, her royalist fervour expended itself in deposing the busts of democrats, in ordering the French Minister to remain away from Court, and in condemning any Russian who had dealings with him to be publicly flogged. Moreover, while thus drilling her own subjects, the quondam friend of Diderot kept her eyes fixed upon Warsaw. The shrewdest diplomatist of the age had already divined her aims, which he thus trenchantly summed up: "The Empress only waits to see Austria and Prussia committed in France, to overturn everything in Poland."[18] Kaunitz lived on to see his cynical prophecy fulfilled to the letter.

The reader will have noticed with some surprise the statement of Burke that Pitt and Grenville had not the slightest fear of the spread of French principles in England. As we know, Burke vehemently maintained the contrary, averring that the French plague, unless crushed at Paris, would infect the world. In his survey of the European States he admitted that we were less liable to infection than Germany, Holland, and Italy, owing to the excellence of our constitution; but he feared that our nearness to France, and our zeal for liberty, would expose us to [Pg 10]some danger. Why he should have cherished these fears is hard to say; for to him the French Revolution was "a wild attempt to methodize anarchy," "a foul, impious, monstrous thing, wholly out of the course of moral nature."[19] Surely if British and French principles were so utterly different, we were in no more danger of infection from the Jacobins than of catching swine fever.

This was virtually the view of Pitt and Grenville; for there were no premonitory symptoms of infection, but much the reverse. Londoners showed the utmost joy at the first news of the escape of the King and Queen from Paris, and were equally depressed by the news from Varennes. As we shall presently see, it was with shouts of "Long live the King," "Church and State," "Down with the Dissenters," "No Olivers," "Down with the Rump," "No false Rights of Man," that the rabble of Birmingham wrecked and burnt the houses of Dr. Priestley and other prominent Nonconformists of that town. Only by slow degrees did this loyal enthusiasm give place to opinions which in course of time came to be called Radical. It may be well to trace briefly the fluctuations of public opinion, to which the career of Pitt stands in vital relation.

The growth of discontent in Great Britain may be ascribed to definite evils in the body politic, and it seems to have arisen only secondarily from French propaganda. The first question which kindled the fire of resentment was that of the civic and political disabilities still imposed on Nonconformists by the Corporation and Test Acts of the reign of Charles II. Pitt's decision in the session of 1787 to uphold those Acts ensured the rejection of Beaufoy's motion for their repeal of 176 votes to 98; but undeterred by his defeat, Beaufoy brought the matter before the House on 8th May 1789, and, despite the opposition of Pitt, secured 102 votes against 122. The Prime Minister's chief argument was that if Dissenters were admitted to civic rights they might use their power to overthrow the Church Establishment.[20] Clearly the opinion of the House was drifting away from him on that question; and it is a proof of his growing indifference to questions of Reform that now, four days after the assembly of the States-General of France at Versailles, he should have held to views so repugnant to the spirit of the age.

Thenceforth that question could not be debated solely on its own merits. The attacks made by the French National Assembly on the Church of France, particularly the confiscation of its tithes and landed property, soon aroused heated feelings in this country, though on a subject of a wholly different kind. The result was that, while Dissenters peacefully agitated for permission to act as citizens, they were represented as endeavouring to despoil the Church, after the fashion of Talleyrand and Mirabeau. A work by a Manchester merchant, Thomas Walker, reveals the influence of this question on the political activities of the time. The Nonconformists of that town and county hoped to gain a majority in next session or in the following Parliament, while the High Churchmen, to the cry of "The Church in Danger," declared the two Acts of Charles II to be the bulwarks of the constitution.[21] This cry was everywhere taken up, with the result that in the Parliament elected in 1790 the Tories gained ground. Consequently, even the able advocacy of Fox on behalf of religious liberty failed to save Beaufoy's motion from a crushing defeat. Pitt spoke against the proposal and carried the House with him by 294 votes to 105. This vote illustrates the baleful influence exerted by the French Revolution on the cause of Reform in these islands.

A second example soon occurred. Only three days later Flood brought forward a motion for Parliamentary Reform which the wildest of alarmists could not call revolutionary. He proposed to add to the House of Commons one hundred members, elected by the resident householders of the counties, those areas being far less corrupt than the towns; and he suggested that, if the total number of members were deemed excessive, fifty seats in the smallest boroughs might be declared vacant. This proposal differed but little from that of Pitt in the session of 1785, which aimed at disfranchising thirty-six decayed boroughs and apportioning their seventy-two members to the larger counties, as also to London and Westminster. In a speech which might have been made by Pitt in pre-Revolution times Flood declared that the events in France showed the need of a timely repair of outworn institutions.

This was as a red rag to Windham, a prominent recruit from the Whigs, who now used all the artifices of rhetoric to terrify his [Pg 12]hearers. He besought them in turn not to repair their house in the hurricane season, not to imitate the valetudinarian of the "Spectator," who read medical books until he discovered he had every symptom of the gout except the pain. These fallacious similes captivated the squires; and Pitt himself complimented the orator on his ingenious arguments. For himself, he declared his desire of Reform to be as zealous as ever; but he "could see no utility in any gentleman's bringing forward such a motion as the present at that moment," and feared that the cause might thereby suffer disgrace and lose ground. Fox, on the other hand, ridiculed all thought of panic on account of the French Revolution, but he admitted that the majority both in Parliament and the nation did not want Reform. Grenville, Wilberforce, and Burke opposed the motion, while even Duncombe declined to vote for it at present. It was accordingly adjourned sine die.[22]

Disappointment at the course of these debates served to band Nonconformists and reformers in a close alliance. Hitherto they had alike supported Pitt and the royal prerogative, especially at the time of the Regency struggle. In May 1789, when Pitt opposed the Nonconformist claims, Dr. Priestley wrote that Fox would regain his popularity with Dissenters, while Pitt would lose ground.[23] Now, when the doors of the franchise and of civic privilege were fast barred, resentment and indignation began to arouse the groups of the unprivileged left outside. The news that Frenchmen had framed a Departmental System, in which all privileges had vanished, and all men were citizens, with equal rights in the making of laws and local regulations, worked potently in England, furthering the growth of an institution little known in this country, the political club. As the Jacobins had adapted the English idea of a club to political uses, so now the early Radicals re-adapted it to English needs. "The Manchester Constitutional Society"[24] was founded by [Pg 13]Walker and others in October 1790, in order to oppose a "Church and King Club," which High Churchmen had started in March, after the news of the triumph of their principles in Parliament. The Manchester reformers struck the key-note of the coming age by asserting in their programme that in every community the authority of the governors must be derived from the consent of the governed, and that the welfare of the people was the true aim of Government. They further declared that honours and rewards were due only for services rendered to the State; that all officials, without exception, were responsible to the people; that "actions only, not opinions, are the proper objects of civil jurisdictions"; that no law is fairly made except by a majority of the people; and that the people of Great Britain were not fully and fairly represented in Parliament.[25]

The Church and King Club, on the contrary, reprobated all change in "one of the most beautiful systems of government that the combined efforts of human wisdom has [sic] ever yet been able to accomplish." The issue between the two parties was thus sharply outlined. The Tories of Manchester gloried in a state of things which shut out about half of their fellow-citizens from civic rights and their whole community from any direct share in the making of laws. In their eyes the Church and the monarchy were in danger if Nonconformists became citizens, and if a score of Cornish villages yielded up their legislative powers to Manchester, Leeds, Birmingham, and other hives of industry.

Scotland also began to awake. The torpor of that keen and intellectual people, under a system of misrepresentation which assigned to them forty-five members and forty-four to Cornwall, is incomprehensible, unless we may ascribe it to the waning of all enthusiasm after the "forty-five" and to the supremacy of material interests so characteristic of the age. In any case, this political apathy was now to end; and here, too, as in the case of England, Government applied the spur.

On 10th May 1791 Sir Gilbert Elliot (afterwards Earl of Minto) brought forward a motion in Parliament for the repeal of the Test Act, so far as it concerned Scotland. He voiced a [Pg 14]petition of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, and declared that the Presbyterians felt the grievance of being excluded from civic offices unless they perverted. On wider grounds also he appealed against this petty form of persecution, which might make men hypocrites but never sincere converts. Henry Dundas and his nephew, Robert Dundas (Lord Advocate for Scotland), opposed the motion, mainly because it would infringe the terms of the Act of Union; but Henry added the curious argument that, if Scottish Presbyterians were relieved from the Test Act, then the English Dissenters would have been "unjustly, harshly, and cruelly used." Pitt avowed himself "not a violent friend, but a firm and steady friend" of the Test Act, as being essential to the security of the Church and therefore of the civil establishment of the country. Accordingly, Elliot's motion was defeated by 149 votes to 62.[26] It is curious that, a month earlier, the House had agreed to a Bill granting slightly wider toleration to "Catholic Dissenters."[27]

While Pitt was thus strengthening the old buttresses of Church and State, the son of a Quaker had subjected the whole fabric to a battery of violent rhetoric. It is scarcely too much to call Thomas Paine the Rousseau of English democracy. For, if his arguments lacked the novelty of those of the Genevese thinker (and even they were far from original), they equalled them in effectiveness, and excelled them in practicability. "The Rights of Man" (Part I) may be termed an insular version of the "Contrat Social," with this difference, that the English writer pointed the way to changes which were far from visionary, while the Genevese seer outlined a polity fit only for a Swiss canton peopled by philosophers. Paine had had the advantage of close contact with men and affairs in both hemispheres. Not even Cobbett, his literary successor, passed through more varied experiences. Born in 1737 at Thetford in Norfolk, Paine divided his early life between stay-making, excise work, the vending of tobacco, and a seafaring life. His keen eyes, lofty brow, prominent nose, proclaimed him a thinker and fighter, and therefore, in that age, a rebel. What more natural than that he, a foe to authority and hater of oppression, should go to America to help on the cause of Washington? There at last he discovered his true vocation. His broadsides struck home. "Rebellious staymaker, unkempt," [Pg 15]says Carlyle, "who feels that he, a single needleman, did by his 'Common Sense' pamphlet, free America; that he can, and will free all this world; perhaps even the other." Tom Paine, indeed, had the rare gift of voicing tersely and stridently the dumb desires of the masses. Further, a sojourn in France before and during the early part of the Revolution enabled him to frame a crushing retort to Burke's "Reflections." The result was Part I of the "Rights of Man," which he flung off at the "Angel" in Islington in February 1791.[28]

The general aims of the pamphlet are now as little open to question as the famous Declaration which he sought to vindicate. Paine trenchantly attacked Burke's claim that no people, not even our own, had an inherent right to choose its own ruler, and that the Revolution Settlement of 1688 was binding for ever. Paine, on the contrary, asserted that "every age and generation must be as free to act for itself in all cases as the ages and generations that preceded it. The vanity and presumption of governing beyond the grave is the most ridiculous and insolent of all tyrannies." Further, on the general question at issue, Paine remarked: "That men should take up arms, and spend their lives and fortunes, not to maintain their rights, but to maintain they have not rights, is an entirely new species of discovery and suited to the paradoxical genius of Mr. Burke." In reply to the noble passage: "The age of chivalry is gone ...," Paine shrewdly says: "In the rhapsody of his imagination he has discovered a world of windmills, and his sorrows are that there are no Quixotes to attack them."

After thus exposing the weak points of the royalist case, Paine proceeded to defend the mob, firstly, because the aristocratic plots against the French Revolution were really formidable (a very disputable thesis), and secondly, because the mob in all old countries is the outcome of their unfair and brutal system of government. "It is by distortedly exalting some men," he says, "that others are distortedly debased, till the whole is out of nature. A vast mass of mankind are degradedly thrown into the background of the human picture, to bring forward with greater glare the puppet show of State and aristocracy." Here was obviously the Junius of democracy, for whom the only effective answer was the gag and gyve. Indeed, Burke in his [Pg 16]"Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs" suggested that the proper refutation was by means of "criminal justice."[29]

Pitt's opinions at this time on French and English democracy tend towards a moderate and reforming royalism—witness his comment on Burke's "Reflections," that the writer would have done well to extol the English constitution rather than to attack the French.[30] In this remark we may detect his preference for construction over destruction, for the allaying, rather than the exciting, of passion. Nevertheless the one-sidedness of the English constitution made for unrest. So soon as one bold voice clearly contrasted those defects with the inspiring precepts of the French Rights of Man, there was an end to political apathy. A proof of this was furnished by the number of replies called forth by Burke's "Reflections." They numbered thirty-eight.[31] Apart from that of Paine, the "Vindiciae Gallicae" of Sir James Mackintosh made the most impression, especially the last chapter, wherein he declared that the conspiracy of the monarchs to crush the liberties of France would recoil on their own heads.

Fear of the alleged royalist league quickened the sympathy of Britons with the French reformers; while the sympathy of friends of order with Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette after the Varennes incident deepened their apprehension of all change. Thus were called into play all the feelings which most deeply move mankind—love of our richly storied past and its embodiment, the English constitution; while on the other hand no small part of our people harboured resentment against the narrow franchise and class legislation at home, and felt a growing fear that the nascent freedom of Frenchmen might expire under the heel of the military Powers of Central Europe. Accordingly clubs and societies grew apace, and many of them helped on the circulation of cheap editions of Paine's pamphlet.

The result of this clash of opinion was seen in the added keenness of party strife and in the disturbances of 14th July 1791. The occasion of these last was the celebration by a subscription dinner of the second anniversary of the fall of the [Pg 17]Bastille. Both at Manchester and Birmingham the announcement of this insular and inoffensive function aroused strong feelings either of envy or of opposition. The Tories of Manchester resolved that, if the local Constitutional Club chose to dine on that day it should be at their peril. The populace was urged to pull down the hotel on their heads, "as the brains of every man who dined there would be much improved by being mingled with bricks and mortar." Thomas Walker's control of the local constables sufficed to thwart this pleasantry.

But on that day the forces of reaction broke loose at Birmingham. In the Midland capital political feeling ran as high as at Manchester. The best known of the reformers was Dr. Priestley, a Unitarian minister, whose researches in physical science had gained him a world-wide reputation and a fellowship in the Royal Society. He and many other reformers proposed to feast in public in honour of the French national festival. Unfortunately, the annoyance of the loyalists at this proposal was inflamed by a recent sermon of Priestley on the death of Dr. Price and by the circulation of a seditious handbill. Dr. Keir, a Churchman who was to preside at the dinner, did not prove to the satisfaction of all that this was a trick of the enemy. Public opinion was also excited by the discovery of the words "This barn to let" chalked on some of the churches of the town; and charges were bandied to and fro that this was the work of the Dissenters, or of the most virulent of their opponents.

What is certain is that these hors d'œuvres endangered the rest of the menu. The dinner-committee, however, struggled manfully with their difficulties. They had a Churchman in the chair, and Priestley was not present. The loyalty of the diners also received due scenic warrant in the work of a local artist. The dining-hall of the hotel was "decorated with three emblematical pieces of sculpture, mixed with painting in a new style of composition. The central was a finely executed medallion of His Majesty, surrounded with a Glory, on each side of which was an alabaster obelisk, one exhibiting Gallic Liberty breaking the bonds of Despotism, and the other representing British Liberty in its present enjoyment." The terms in which the fourteen toasts were proposed breathed of the same flamboyant loyalty, the only one open to criticism being the following: "The Prince of Wales! May he have the wisdom to prefer the glory[Pg 18] of being the chief of an entire [sic] free people to that of being only the splendid fountain of corruption."[32]

The dinner passed with only occasional rounds of hissing from the loyalists outside. But, as the evening wore on and the speeches inside still continued, the crowd became restive. Stone-throwing began and was not discouraged by the two magistrates, the Rev. Dr. Spencer and John Carles, who had now arrived. In fact, the clergyman with an oath praised a lad who said that Priestley ought to be ducked; Carles also promised the rabble drink; and when a local humourist asked for permission to knock the dust out of Priestley's wig, the champions of order burst out laughing. A witness at the trial averred that he saw an attorney, John Brook, go among the mob and point towards Priestley's chapel. However that may be, the rabble moved off thither and speedily wrecked it. His residence at Fair Hill was next demolished, his library and scientific instruments being burnt or smashed. This was but the prelude to organized attacks on the houses of the leading Nonconformists, whether they had been at the dinner or not. The resulting riots soon involved in ruin a large part of the town. Prominent Churchmen who sought to end these disgraceful scenes suffered both in person and property. A word of remonstrance sufficed to turn into new channels the tide of hatred and greed; for, as happened in the Gordon riots of 1780, rascality speedily rushed in to seize the spoils.

The usually dull archives of the Home Office yield proof of the terror that reigned in the Midland capital. A Mr. Garbett wrote to Dundas on 17th July that the wrecking still went on, that the Nonconformists were in the utmost dread and misery, and all people looked for help from outside to stay the pillage. As for himself, though he was not a "marked man," his hand trembled at the scenes he had witnessed. There can be little doubt that the magistrates from the first acted with culpable weakness, as Whitbread proved in the House of Commons, for they did not enrol special constables until the rioters had got the upper hand. Dundas, as Home Secretary, seems to have done his duty. The news of the riot of the 14th reached him at 10 a.m. on the 15th (Friday); and he at once sent post haste to Nottingham, ordering the immediate despatch of the 15th Dragoons. [Pg 19]By dint of a forced march of fifty-six miles the horsemen reached Birmingham on the evening of that same day (Sunday); but two days more elapsed before drunken blackmailers ceased to molest Hagley, Halesowen, and other villages. Few persons lost their lives, except about a dozen of the pillagers who lay helpless with drink in the cellars of houses which their more zealous comrades had given over to the flames.[33]

The verdict of Grenville was as follows: "I do not admire riots in favour of Government much more than riots against it." That of his less cautious brother, the Marquis of Buckingham, is as follows: "I am not sorry for this excess, excessive as it has been." That of Pitt is not recorded. He did not speak during the debate on this subject on 21st May 1792; but the rejection of Whitbread's motion for an inquiry by 189 votes to 46 implies unanimity on the Ministerial side.[34]

In the winter of 1791–2 various incidents occurred which further excited public opinion. On 17th February 1792 appeared the second part of Paine's "Rights of Man." He started from the assumption that the birth of a democratic State in America would herald the advent of Revolutions not only in France, but in all lands; and that British and Hessians would live to bless the day when they were defeated by the soldiers of Washington. He then proceeded to arraign all Governments of the old type, and asserted that constitutions ought to be the natural outcome of the collective activities of the whole people. There was nothing mysterious about Government, if Courts had not hidden away the patent fact that it dealt primarily with the making and administering of laws. We are apt to be impressed by these remarks until we contrast them with the majestic period wherein Burke depicts human society as a venerable and mysterious whole bequeathed by the wisdom of our forefathers. An admirer of Burke cannot but quote the passage in full: "Our political system is placed in a just correspondence and symmetry with the order of the world, and with the mode of existence decreed to a permanent body composed of transitory [Pg 20]parts; wherein by the disposition of a stupendous wisdom, moulding together the great mysterious incorporation of the human race, the whole, at one time, is never old, or middle-aged, or young, but in a condition of unchangeable constancy, moves on through the varied tenour of perpetual decay, fall, renovation and progression. Thus, by preserving the method of nature in the conduct of the State, in what we improve we are never wholly new; in what we retain we are never wholly obsolete."[35]

This is a majestic conception. But, after all, the practical question at issue is—how much of the old shall we retain and how much must be discarded? Unfortunately for himself and his cause, Burke was now urging his countrymen to support two military Powers in their effort to compel the French people to revert to institutions which were alike obsolete and detested. Is it surprising that Paine, utterly lacking all sense of reverence for the past, should brand this conduct as treasonable to the imperious needs of the present? Viewing monarchy as represented by Versailles or Carlton House, and aristocracy by the intrigues of Coblentz and the orgies of Brooks's Club, he gave short shrift to both forms of Government. Monarchy he pronounced more or less despotic; and under aristocracy (he says) the interests of the whole body necessarily suffer; democracy alone secures the rule of the general will; and this can be thoroughly secured only in a democratic republic. He then attacks the English constitution as unjust and extravagant, claiming that the formation of a close alliance between England, France, and America would enable the expenses of government (Army, Navy, and Civil List inclusive) to be reduced to a million and a half a year.

With regard to the means of raising revenue, Paine sketched a plan of progressive taxation on incomes, ranging from 3d. in the pound on incomes less than £500 to punitive proportions after £10,000 was reached; while in his Spartan arithmetic great wealth appeared so dire a misfortune that he rid the possessors of the whole of incomes of £23,000 and upwards. As for Pitt's financial reforms, he laughed them to scorn. He also accused him of throwing over the fair promises that marked his early career, of advertising for enemies abroad, while at home he toadied to the Court. "The defect lies in the system.... [Pg 21]Prop it as you please, it continually sinks into Court government, and ever will." Finally he urged a limitation of armaments, and prophesied that wars would cease when nations had their freely elected Conventions. The cynic will remember with satisfaction that, two months later, began the war between France and Austria, which developed into the most tremendous series of wars recorded in history.

The republican and levelling doctrines frankly advocated in Paine's second pamphlet made a greater sensation than the first part had done; and Fox, who approved the former production, sternly reprobated the latter. It is possible that Government sought to stop its publication; for Chapman, the publisher, to whom Paine first applied, offered him £1,000 for the manuscript, and yet very soon afterwards declared it to be too dangerous for him to print.[36] Certainly the work soon quickened the tone of political thought. Already the London Society for promoting Constitutional Information, which had died of inanition in 1784, had come to life again before the close of the year 1791. And at the end of that year a determined man, Thomas Hardy, a poor shoemaker of Westminster, set to work to interest his comrades in politics. He assembled four men at an ale-house, and they agreed to take action. At their second meeting, on 25th January 1792, they mustered eight strong, and resolved to start "The London Corresponding Society for the Reform of Parliamentary Representation." Its finances were scarcely on a par with its title: they consisted of eightpence, the first weekly subscription. But the idea proved infectious; and amidst the heat engendered by Paine's second pamphlet, the number of members rose to forty-one.[37] The first manifesto of the Society, dated 2nd April, claimed political liberty as the birthright of man, declared the British nation to be misrepresented by its Parliament, and, while repudiating all disorderly methods, demanded a thorough reform of that body.

So far as I have been able to discover, this was the first political club started by English working-men at that time. But now the men of Sheffield also organized themselves. Their "Association" began in an assembly of five or six mechanics, who discussed "the enormous high price of provisions" and [Pg 22]"the waste and lavish [sic] of the public property by placemen, pensioners, luxury and debauchery,—sources of the grievous burthens under which the nation groans." The practical character of their lamentations attracted many working men, with the result that they resolved to reprint and circulate 1,600 copies of Paine's "Rights of Man" (Part I), at sixpence a copy. On 15th January 1792 they wrote up to the "London Society for Constitutional Information" to plan co-operation with them.

At first the ideas of the Sheffield Association were somewhat parochial. But the need of common action all over the Kingdom was taking shape in several minds, and when Scotland awoke to political activity (as will appear in Chapter VII) the idea of a General Convention took firm root and led to remarkable developments. For the present, the chief work of these clubs was the circulation of Paine's volumes (even in Welsh, Gaelic, and Erse) at the price of sixpence or even less. They also distributed "The Catechism of the French Constitution" (of 1791), drawn up by Christie, a Scot domiciled at Paris, which set forth the beauties of that child of many hopes. Less objectionable was a pamphlet—"The Rights of Men and the Duties of Men." For the most part, however, their literature was acridly republican in tone and of a levelling tendency. Thus, for the first time since the brief attempt of the Cromwellian Levellers, the rich and the poor began to group themselves in hostile camps, at the strident tones of Paine's cry for a graduated Income Tax. Is it surprising that the sight of the free institutions of France and of the forced economy of the Court of the Tuileries should lead our workers to question the utility of the State-paid debaucheries of Carlton House, and of the whole system of patronage and pensions? Burke and Pitt had pruned away a few of the worst excrescences; but now they saw with dismay the whole of the body politic subjected to remorseless criticism by those whose duty was to toil and not to think or question.

This was a new departure in eighteenth-century England. Hitherto working men had taken only a fleeting and fitful interest in politics. How should they do so in days when newspapers were very dear, and their contents had only the remotest bearing on the life of the masses? The London mob had bawled and rioted for "Wilkes and Liberty," but mainly from personal motives and love of horse-play. Now, however, all was changed; and artisans were willing to sacrifice their time and their pence[Pg 23] to learn and teach a political catechism, and spread the writings of Paine. Consequently the new Radical Clubs differed widely from the short-lived County Associations of 1780 which charged a substantial fee for membership. Moreover, these Associations expired in the years 1783–4, owing to the disgust at Fox's Coalition with Lord North. We are therefore justified in declaring that English democracy entered on a new lease of life, and did not, as has been asserted,[38] merely continue the movement of 1780. The earlier efforts had been wholly insular in character; they aimed at staying the tide of corruption; their methods were in the main academic, and certainly never affected the great mass of the people. Now reformers were moved by a wider enthusiasm for the rights of humanity, and sought not merely to abolish pocket boroughs and sinecures, but to level up the poor and level down the wealthy. It was this aspect of Paine's teaching that excited men to a frenzy of reprobation or of hope.

A certain continuity of tradition and method is observable in a club, called The Friends of the People, which was founded at Freemasons' Tavern in April 1792, with a subscription of five guineas a year. The members included Cartwright, Erskine, Lord Edward Fitzgerald, Philip Francis, Charles Grey, Lambton, the Earl of Lauderdale, Mackintosh, Sheridan, Whitbread, and some sixty others; but Fox refused to join. Their profession of faith was more moderate than that of Hardy's Club; it emphasized the need of avoiding innovation and of restoring the constitution to its original purity.[39] This was in the spirit of the Associations of 1780; but the new club was far less characteristic of the times than the clubs of working men described above.

The appearance of Paine's "Rights of Man" (Part II), the founding of these societies, and the outbreak of war between France and Austria in April 1792 made a deep impression on Pitt. He opposed a notice of a motion of Reform for the following[Pg 24] session, brought forward by Grey on 30th April. While affirming his continued interest in that subject, Pitt deprecated its introduction at that time as involving the risk of anarchy.

My object [he continued] always has been, and is now more particularly so, to give permanence to that which we actually enjoy rather than remove subsisting grievances.... I once thought, and still think, upon the point of the representation of the Commons, that, if some mode could be adopted by which the people could have any additional security for a continuance of the blessings which they now enjoy, it would be an improvement in the constitution of this country. That was the extent of my object. Further I never wished to go; and if this can be obtained without the risk of losing what we have, I should think it wise to make the experiment. When I say this, it is not because I believe there is any existing grievance in this country that is felt at this hour.

At the end of the American War (he continued) when bankruptcy seemed imminent, he believed Reform to be necessary in order to restore public confidence and remedy certain notorious grievances. Even then very many moderate men opposed his efforts as involving danger to the State. How much more would they deprecate sweeping proposals which rightly aroused general apprehension? He then censured the action of certain members of the House in joining an Association (the "Friends of the People") which was supported by those who aimed at the overthrowing of hereditary monarchy, titles of nobility, and all ideas of subordination. He would oppose all proposals for Reform rather than run the risk of changes so sweeping.—"All, all may be lost by an indiscreet attempt upon the subject." Clearly, Pitt was about to join the ranks of the alarmists. But members generally were of his opinion. In vain did Fox, Erskine, Grey, and Sheridan deprecate the attempt to confuse moderate Reform with reckless innovation. Burke illogically but effectively dragged in the French spectre, and Windham declared that the public mind here, as in other lands, was in such a state that the slightest scratch might produce a mortal wound.

The gulf between Pitt and the reformers now became impassable. His speech of 10th May against any relaxation of the penal laws against Unitarians is a curious blend of bigotry and panic. Eleven days later a stringent proclamation was issued against all who wrote, printed, and dispersed "divers wicked and seditious writings." It ordered all magistrates to search out the[Pg 25] authors and abettors of them, and to take steps for preventing disorder. It also inculcated "a due submission to the laws, and a just confidence in the integrity and wisdom of Parliament." Anything less calculated to beget such a confidence than this proclamation, threatening alike to reformers and levellers, can scarcely be conceived. On 25th May Grey opposed it in an acrid speech; he inveighed against Pitt as an apostate, who never kept his word, and always intended to delude Parliament and people. The sting of the speech lay, not in these reckless charges, but in the citing of Pitt's opinions as expressed in a resolution passed at the Thatched House Tavern in May 1782, which declared that without Parliamentary Reform neither the liberty of the nation nor the permanence of a virtuous administration was secure. Pitt's reply, however, convinced all those whose minds were open to conviction. He proved to demonstration that he had never approved of universal suffrage; yet that was now the goal aimed at by Paine and the Societies founded on the basis of the Rights of Man. The speech of Dundas also showed that the writings of Paine, and the founding of clubs with those ends in view, had led to the present action of the Cabinet.

Undoubtedly those clubs had behaved in a provocative manner. Apart from their correspondence with the Jacobins Club (which will be described later), they advocated aims which then seemed utterly subversive of order. Thus, early in May 1792, the Sheffield Society declared their object to be "a radical Reform of the country, as soon as prudence and discretion would permit, and established on that system which is consistent with the Rights of Man." Further, the hope is expressed that not only the neighbouring towns and villages, most of which were forming similar societies, but also the whole country would be "united in the same cause, which cannot fail of being the case wherever the most excellent works of Thomas Paine find reception."[40]

Now, this banding together of societies and clubs pointed the way to the forming of a National Convention which would truly represent the whole nation. In judging the action of Pitt and his colleagues at this crisis, we must remember that they had before them the alarming example of the Jacobins Club of [Pg 26]Paris, which had gained enormous power by its network of affiliated clubs. This body again was modelled on the various societies of the Illuminati in Germany, whose organizer, Weishaupt, summed up his contention in the words: "All their union shall be carried on by the correspondence and visits of the brethren. If we can gain but that point, we shall have succeeded in all we want."[41] This is why the name Corresponding Society stank in the nostrils of all rulers. It implied a parasitic organization which, if allowed to grow, would strangle the established Government. Signs were not wanting that this was the aim of the new Radical Clubs. Thus the delegates of the United Constitutional Societies who met at Norwich drew up on 24th March 1792 resolutions expressing satisfaction at the rapid growth of those bodies, already numbering some hundreds, "which by delegates preserve a mutual intercourse." ... "To Mr. Thomas Paine our thanks are specially due for his first and second parts of the 'Rights of Man'; and we sincerely wish that he may live to see his labours crowned with success in the general diffusion of liberty and happiness among mankind." ... "We ... earnestly entreat our brethren to increase in their Associations in order to form one grand and extensive Union of all the friends of liberty."[42] It is not surprising that this plan of a National Convention of levellers produced something like a panic among the well-to-do; and it is futile to assert that men who avowed their belief in the subversive teaching of Part II of Paine's book were concerned merely with the Reform of Parliament. They put that object in their public manifestoes; but, like many of the Chartists of a later date, their ultimate aim was the redistribution of wealth; and this it was which brought on them the unflinching opposition of Pitt.

Nevertheless even these considerations do not justify him in opposing the reformers root and branch. The greatest statesman is he who distinguishes between the real grievances of a suffering people and the visionary or dangerous schemes which they beget in ill-balanced brains. To oppose moderate reformers as well as extremists is both unjust and unwise. It confounds together the would-be healers and the enemies of the existing order. Furthermore, an indiscriminate attack tends to close the ranks [Pg 27]in a solid phalanx, and it should be the aim of a tactician first to seek to loosen those ranks.

Finally, we cannot forget that Pitt had had it in his power to redress the most obvious of the grievances which kept large masses of his countrymen outside the pale of political rights and civic privilege. Those grievances were made known to him temperately in the years 1787, 1789, and 1790; but he refused to amend them, and gradually drifted to the side of the alarmists and reactionaries. Who is the wiser guide at such a time? He who sets to work betimes to cure certain ills which are producing irritation in the body politic? Or he who looks on the irritation as a sign that nothing should be done? The lessons of history and the experience of everyday life plead for timely cure and warn against a nervous postponement. Doubtless Pitt would have found it difficult to persuade some of his followers to apply the knife in the session of 1791 or 1792. But in the Parliament elected in 1790 his position was better assured, his temper more imperious, than in that of 1785, which needed much tactful management. The fact, then, must be faced that he declined to run the risk of the curative operation, even at a time when there were no serious symptoms in the patient and little or no risk for the surgeon.

The reason which he assigned for his refusal claims careful notice. It was that his earlier proposals (those of 1782–5) had aimed at national security; while those of the present would tend to insecurity. Possibly in the month of April 1792 this argument had some validity; though up to that time all the violence had been on the Tory side. But the plea does not excuse Pitt for not taking action in the year 1790. That was the period when the earlier apathy of the nation to Reform was giving way to interest, and interest had not yet grown into excitement. Still less had loyalty waned under the repressive measures whereby he now proposed to give it vigour.

Thus, Pitt missed a great opportunity, perhaps the greatest of his career. What it means is clear to us, who know that the cause of Reform passed under a cloud for the space of thirty-eight years. It is of course unfair to censure him and his friends for lacking a prophetic vision of the long woes that were to come. Most of the blame lavished upon him arises from forgetfulness of the fact that he was not a seer mounted on some political Pisgah, but a pioneer struggling through an unexplored[Pg 28] jungle. Nevertheless, as the duty of a pioneer is not merely to hew a path, but also to note the lie of the land and the signs of the weather, we must admit that Pitt did not possess the highest instincts of his craft. He cannot be ranked with Julius Caesar, Charlemagne, Alfred the Great, Edward I, or Burleigh, still less with those giants of his own age, Napoleon and Stein; for these men boldly grappled with the elements of unrest or disloyalty, and by wise legislation wrought them into the fabric of the State. Probably the lack of response to his reforming efforts in the year 1785 ingrained in him the conviction that Britons would always be loyal if their burdens were lessened and their comforts increased; and now in 1792 he looked on the remissions of taxation (described in the following chapter) as a panacea against discontent. Under normal conditions that would have been the case. It was not so now, because new ideas were in the air, and these forbade a bovine acceptance of abundant fodder. In truth, Pitt had not that gift without which the highest abilities and the most strenuous endeavours will at novel crises be at fault—a sympathetic insight into the needs and aspirations of the people. His analytical powers enabled him to detect the follies of the royalist crusaders; but he lacked those higher powers of synthesis which alone could discern the nascent strength of Democracy.

CHAPTER II

I find it to be a very general notion, at least in the Assembly, that if France can preserve a neutrality with England, she will be able to cope with all the rest of Europe united.—Gower to Grenville, 22nd April 1792.

Indirect evidence as to the intentions of a statesman is often more convincing than his official assertions. The world always suspects the latter; and many politicians have found it expedient to adopt the ironical device practised frequently with success by Bismarck on his Austrian colleagues at Frankfurt, that of telling the truth. Fortunately the English party game has nearly always been kept up with sportsmanlike fair play; and Pitt himself was so scrupulously truthful that we are rarely in doubt as to his opinions, save when he veiled them by ministerial reserve. Nevertheless, on the all-important subject of his attitude towards Revolutionary France, it is satisfactory to have indirect proofs of his desire to maintain a strict, if not friendly, neutrality. This proof lies in his handling of the nation's armaments and finances.

The debate on the Army Estimates on 15th February 1792 is of interest in more respects than one. The news of the definitive signature of peace between Russia and Turkey by the Treaty of Jassy, put an end to the last fears of a resumption of war in the East; and, as the prospects were equally pacific in the West, the Ministry carried out slight reductions in the land forces. These were fixed in the year 1785 at seventy-three regiments of 410 men each, divided into eight companies, with two companies en second. In 1789 the number of companies per regiment was fixed at ten, without any companies en second. Now the Secretary at War, Sir Charles Yonge, proposed further reductions, which, with those of 1789, would lessen each regiment by seventy privates, and save the country the sum of £51,000. No diminution was proposed in the number of officers;[Pg 30] and this gave Fox a handle for an attack. He said that the natural plan would be to reduce the number of regiments to sixty-four. Instead of that, the number of seventy regiments was retained, and new corps were now proposed for the East Indies, one for the West Indies, and one for Canada, chiefly to be used for pioneer work and clearance of woods. General Burgoyne and Fox protested against the keeping up of skeleton regiments, the latter adding the caustic comment that the plan was "the least in point of saving and the greatest in point of patronage."[43]

The practices prevalent in that age give colour to the charge. On the other hand, professional men have defended a system which kept up the cadres of regiments in time of peace, as providing a body of trained officers and privates, which in time of war could be filled out by recruits. Of course it is far inferior to the plan of a reserve of trained men; but that plan had not yet been hammered out by Scharnhorst, under the stress of the Napoleonic domination in Prussia. As to the reduction of seven men per company, now proposed, it may have been due partly to political reasons. Several reports in the Home Office and War Office archives prove that discontent was rife among the troops, especially in the northern districts, on account of insufficient pay and the progress of Radical propaganda among them. The reduction may have afforded the means of sifting out the ringleaders.

Retrenchment, if not Reform, was the order of the day. Pitt discerned the important fact that a recovery in the finance and trade of the country must be encouraged through a series of years to produce a marked effect. For then the application of capital to industry, and the increase in production and revenue can proceed at the rate of compound interest. Already his hopes, for which he was indebted to the "Wealth of Nations,"[44] had been largely realized. The Report of the Select Committee of the House of Commons presented in May 1791 showed the following growth in the ordinary revenue (exclusive of the Land and Malt Taxes):

During those five years the sum of £4,750,000 had been allotted to the Sinking Fund for the payment of the National Debt; and a further sum of £674,592, accruing from the interest of stock and expired annuities, had gone towards the same object—a crushing retort to the taunts of Fox and Sheridan, that the Sinking Fund was a mere pretence. On the whole the sum of £5,424,592 had been paid off from the National Debt in five years. It is therefore not surprising that three per cent. Consols, which were down at fifty-four when Pitt took office at the end of 1783, touched ninety in the year 1791. The hopes and fears of the year 1792 find expression in the fact that in March they stood at ninety-seven, and in December dropped to seventy-four.

For the present Pitt entertained the highest hopes. In his Budget Speech of 17th February he declared the revenue to be in so flourishing a state that he could grant relief to the taxpayers. In the year 1791 the permanent taxes had yielded £14,132,000; and those on land and malt brought the total up to £16,690,000; but he proposed to take £16,212,000 as the probable revenue for the following year. The expenditure would be lessened by £104,000 on the navy (2,000 seamen being discharged), and about £50,000 on the army; £36,000 would also be saved by the non-renewal of the subsidy for Hessian troops. There were, however, additions, due to the establishment of the Government of Upper Canada, and the portions allotted to the Duke of York (on the occasion of his marriage with a Prussian princess) and the Duke of Clarence. The expenditure would, therefore, stand at £15,811,000; but, taking the average of four years, he reckoned the probable surplus at no more than £401,000. On the other hand, he anticipated no new expenses except for the fortification of posts in the West Indies and the completion of forts for the further protection of the home dockyards. On the whole, then, he reckoned that he had £600,000 to spare; and of this amount he proposed to allocate £400,000 to the reduction of the National Debt and the repeal of the extra duty on malt, an impost much disliked by farmers. He also announced a remission of permanent taxes to the extent of £200,000, namely, on female servants, carts, and waggons, and that of three shillings on each house having less than seven windows. These were burdens that had undoubtedly affected the poor. Further, he hoped to add the sum of £200,000 every[Pg 32] year to the Sinking Fund, and he pointed out that, at this rate of payment, that fund would amount to £4,000,000 per annum in the space of fifteen years, after which time the interest might be applied to the relief of the nation's burdens.

Then, rising high above the level of facts and figures, he ventured on this remarkable prophecy:

I am not, indeed, presumptuous enough to suppose that, when I name fifteen years, I am not naming a period in which events may arise which human foresight cannot reach, and which may baffle all our conjectures. We must not count with certainty on a continuance of our present prosperity during such an interval; but unquestionably there never was a time in the history of this country, when, from the situation of Europe, we might more reasonably expect fifteen years of peace than at the present moment.

Imagination pictures what might possibly have been the outcome of events if Great Britain and France had continued to exert on one another the peaceful and mutually beneficent influence which Pitt had sought to bring about. In that case, we can imagine the reformed French monarchy, or a Republic of the type longed for by Mme. Roland, permeating the thought and action of neighbouring States, until the cause of Parliamentary Reform in England, and the cognate efforts for civic and religious liberty on the Continent achieved a lasting triumph. That Pitt cherished these hopes is seen not only in his eloquent words, but in the efforts which he put forth to open up the world to commerce. The year 1792 ought to be remembered, not only for the outbreak of war and the horrors of the September massacres at Paris, but also for the attempt to inaugurate friendly relations with China. Pitt set great store by the embassy which he at this time sent out to Pekin under the lead of Lord Macartney. In happier times this enterprise might have served to link East and West in friendly intercourse; and Europe, weary of barren strifes, would have known no other rivalries than those of peace.

Alas: this is but a mirage. As it fades away, we discern an arid waste. War broke out between France and Austria within two months of this sanguine utterance. It soon embroiled France and England in mortal strife. All hope of retrenchment and Reform was crushed. The National Debt rose by leaps and bounds, and the Sinking Fund proved to be a snare. Taxation became an ever-grinding evil, until the poor, whose lot Pitt[Pg 33] hoped to lighten, looked on him as the harshest of taskmasters, the puppet of kings, and the paymaster of the Continental Coalition. The spring of the year 1807 found England burdened beyond endurance, the Third Coalition stricken to death by the blows of Napoleon, while Pitt had fourteen months previously succumbed to heart-breaking toils and woes.

Before adverting to the complications with France which were thenceforth to absorb his energies, I must refer to some incidents of the session and summer of the year 1792.

One of the most noteworthy enactments was Fox's Libel Bill. In May 1791 that statesman had proposed to the House of Commons to subject cases of libel to the award of juries, not of judges. Pitt warmly approved the measure, maintaining that, far from protecting libellers, it would have the contrary effect. The Bill passed the Commons on 31st May; but owing to dilatory and factious procedure in the Lords, it was held over until the year 1792. Thanks to the noble plea for liberty urged by the venerable Earl Camden, it passed on 21st May.[45] It is matter of congratulation that Great Britain gained this new safeguard for freedom of speech before she encountered the storms of the revolutionary era.

There is little else to chronicle except two occurrences which displayed the power and the foresight of Pitt. They were the fall of Thurlow and the endeavour of the Prime Minister to form a working alliance with the Old Whigs. The former of these events greatly impressed the contemporaries of Pitt, who likened the ejected Chancellor to Lucifer or to a Titan blasted by Jove's thunderbolt. In this age we find it difficult to account for the prestige of Thurlow. His legal learning was far from profound, his speeches were more ponderous than powerful, and his attacks were bludgeon blows rather than home thrusts. Of the lighter graces and social gifts he had scant store. Indeed, his private life displayed no redeeming feature. Everyone disliked him, but very many feared him, mainly, perhaps, because of his facility for intrigue, his power of bullying, and his great influence at Court. As we have seen, the conciliatory efforts of the monarch had hitherto averted a rupture between Pitt and Thurlow. But not even the favour of George III could render the crabbed old Chancellor endurable. His spitefulness had increased since Pitt's [Pg 34]nomination of Pepper Arden to the Mastership of the Rolls; and he showed his spleen by obstructing Government measures in the House of Lords. In April 1792 he flouted Pitt's efforts on behalf of the abolition of the Slave Trade; and on 15th May he ridiculed his proposal that to every new State loan a Sinking Fund should necessarily be appended. The Commons had passed this measure; but in the Lords Thurlow spoke contemptuously of the proposal; and his influence, if not his arguments, brought the Government majority down to six.

Pitt was furious. Despite a letter from Windsor urging the need of forbearance in the interests of the public service, he resolved to end this intolerable situation. Respectfully but firmly he begged the King to decide between him and Thurlow. The result was a foregone conclusion. Having to choose between an overbearing Chancellor, and a Prime Minister whose tact, firmness, and transcendent abilities formed the keystone of the political fabric, the King instructed Dundas to request Thurlow to deliver up the Great Seal.[46] For the convenience of public business, his resignation was deferred to the end of the session, which came at the middle of June. The Great Seal was then placed in commission until January 1793 when Lord Loughborough, formerly a follower of the Prince of Wales and Fox, became Lord Chancellor.

The dismissal of Thurlow is interesting on general as well as constitutional grounds. It marks an important step in the evolution of the Cabinet. Thenceforth the will of the Prime Minister was held to be paramount whenever any one of his colleagues openly and sharply differed from him. Thus the authority of the Prime Minister became more clearly defined. Not even the favour of the Sovereign could thenceforth uphold a Minister who openly opposed and scorned the head of the Cabinet. The recognition of this fact has undoubtedly conduced to the amenity of parliamentary life; for etiquette has imposed on Ministers the observance of outward signs of deference to their chief, and (save a few times in the breezy careers of Canning and Palmerston) dissensions have been confined to the council chamber.

As to Thurlow's feelings, they appear in his frank admission to Sir John Scott, the future Chancellor, Lord Eldon: "I did not think that the King would have parted with me so easily. As [Pg 35]to that other man [Pitt], he has done to me just what I should have done to him if I could."[47] It is not often that a plotter shows his hand so clearly; and we must admire Pitt's discernment no less than his firmness at this crisis. Would that he had found a more faithful successor. Possibly some suspicion as to Loughborough's powers of intrigue led Pitt to make cautious advances to that promising lawyer, Sir John Scott. To his honour, be it said, Scott at once declared that he must cease to be Solicitor-General, as he had received much assistance from Thurlow. In vain did Pitt expostulate with him. At last he persuaded him to consult Thurlow, who advised him to do nothing so foolish, seeing that Pitt would be compelled at some future time to confer the Great Seal upon him. With this parting gleam of insight and kindliness, the morose figure of Thurlow vanishes.

More than once in the session of 1792 rumours were afloat as to a reconstruction of the Cabinet. Early in that year, when the debates on the Russian armament somewhat shook Pitt's position, it was stated that the King desired to get rid of him. Gillray heard of the story, and visualized it with his usual skill. He represented the Marquis of Lansdowne ("Malagrida") as driving at full speed to St. James's Palace, heralded by the dove of peace, while Fox, Sheridan, etc., hang on behind and cry out, "Stop; stop; take us in." Pitt and Dundas are seen leaving the palace. The rumour gains in credibility from a Memorandum of the Marquis; but it is doubtful whether George ever thought seriously of giving up Pitt, still less of seeking support from the discredited and unpopular Lansdowne, whose views on the French Revolution were utterly opposed to those of the King. Probably the King put questions to him merely with the view of gratifying his own curiosity and exciting unreal hopes. Certainly Pitt scoffed at the idea of resignation. On 3rd March he referred to the rumour, in a letter to the Earl of Westmorland, merely to dismiss it as ridiculous.[48]

Far more important were the negotiations that began in May–June 1792. Pitt paved the way for a union with the Old Whigs by consulting the opinions of the Duke of Portland and other leading Whigs, assembled at Burlington House, respecting the [Pg 36]proclamation against seditious writings. They suggested a few alterations in his draft and he adopted them. Fox alone declared against the whole scheme, and afterwards hotly opposed it in the House of Commons. This step having shown the cleavage in the Whig party, Dundas and Loughborough sought to effect a union of the Portland Whigs with the Government. The Duke of Portland strongly approved of it. Even Fox welcomed the proposal, but only on the understanding that the Whigs joined the Ministry on fair and even terms, sharing equally in the patronage. The Duke further suggested that Pitt should give up the Treasury and allow a neutral man like the Duke of Leeds to take that office. We can picture the upward tilt of the nose with which Pitt received this proposal.

Lord Malmesbury, who was present at this discussion of the Whig leaders on 13th June, himself saw great difficulties in such a plan, as also from the opposition of the King and the Prince of Wales. On the next day Loughborough met Pitt at Dundas's house, and reported him to be favourable to the idea of a coalition. Pitt further said that the King and the Queen would welcome it, except in so far as it concerned Fox, whose conduct in Parliament during the last few months had given great offence. Pitt further declared that he did not remember a single word in all the disputes with Fox which could prevent him honourably and consistently acting with him. He added that it might be difficult to give him the Foreign Office at once, but he could certainly have it in a few months' time. On 16th June Malmesbury saw Fox at Burlington House, and found him in an unusually acrid and suspicious mood, from the notion that the whole affair was a plot of Pitt to break up the Whig party. Beside which, Fox said that it was idle to expect Pitt to admit the Whig leaders on an equal footing. Malmesbury, however, maintained that, if Fox and the Duke were agreed, they would lead the whole of their party with them, at which remark Fox became silent and embarrassed.

Pitt, on the other hand, was very open to Loughborough, and expressed a wish to form a strong and united Ministry which could face the difficulties of the time. The chief obstacle to a coalition, he said, was Fox's support of French principles, which must preclude his taking the Foreign Office immediately. The remark is noteworthy as implying Pitt's expectation that either Fox might tone down his opinions, or the Revolution[Pg 37] might abate its violence. Further, when Loughborough reminded him of the ardour of his advocacy of the Abolitionist cause, he replied that some concession must be made on that head, as the King strongly objected to the way in which it was pushed on by addresses and petitions, a method which he himself disliked. Further, he freely admitted that the "national Aristocracy" of the country must have its due weight and power.[49] These confessions (assuming that Loughborough reported them correctly) prepare us for the half right turn which now becomes the trend of Pitt's political career. In order to further the formation of a truly national party, he was willing, if necessary, to postpone the cause of the slaves and of Parliamentary Reform until the advent of calmer times.

At this stage of the discussions, then, Pitt was willing to meet the Whigs half way. But the chief difficulty lay, not with Fox and his friends, but with the King. When Pitt mentioned the proposal to him, there came the characteristic reply: "Anything complimentary to them, but no power."[50] How was it possible to harmonize this resolve with that of Fox, that the Whigs must have an equality of power? Grenville was a further obstacle. How could that stiff and ambitious man give up the Foreign Office to Fox, whose principles he detested? We hear little of Grenville in these days, probably because of his marriage to Lady Ann Pitt, daughter of Lord Camelford. But certainly he would not have tolerated a half Whig Cabinet.

It is therefore strange that the proposals were ever renewed. Renewed, however, they were, in the second week of July. Loughborough having spread the impression that Pitt desired their renewal, Leeds was again pushed to the front, it being suggested that he might be First Lord of the Treasury. Finally, on 14th August, the King granted him a private interview at Windsor, but stated that nothing had been said on the subject for a long time, and that it had never been seriously considered, it being impossible for Pitt to give up the Treasury and act as Commis to the Whig leaders. This statement should have lessened the Duke's astonishment at hearing from Pitt on 22nd August that there had been no thought of any change in the Government.[51] This assertion seems to belie Pitt's reputation for truthfulness. But it is noteworthy that Grenville scarcely refers to the discussions[Pg 38] on this subject, deeply though it concerned him. Further, Rose, who was in close touch with Ministers, wrote to Auckland on 13th July that he had heard only through the newspapers of the "negotiations for a sort of Coalition," and that he knew there had been none; that Dundas had conferred with Loughborough, but there had been no negotiation.[52]

Now the proneness of these two men to scheming and intrigue is well known; and it seems probable that they so skilfully pulled the wires at Burlington House as to quicken the appetites of the Whig leaders. Dundas may have acted with a view to breaking up the Whig party, and Loughborough in order to bring about a general shuffle of the cards favourable to himself. Malmesbury and others, whose desires or interests lay in a union of the Portland Whigs with Pitt, furthered the scheme, and gave full credence to Loughborough's reports. But we may doubt whether Pitt took the affair seriously after the crushing declaration of the King: "Anything complimentary to them, but no power." The last blow to the scheme was dealt by Pitt in an interview with Loughborough, so we may infer from the following letter from George III to the former:

Weymouth, August 20, 1792.[53]

I cannot but think Mr. Pitt has judged right in seeing Lord Loughborough, as that will convince him, however [whoever?] were parties to the proposal brought by the Duke of Leeds, that the scheme can never succeed: that the Duke of Portland was equally concerned with the former appeared clearly from his letters....

The King, then, looked on the whole affair as a Whig plot; and Pitt, whatever his feelings were at first, finally frowned upon the proposal. Doubtless, in an official sense, there was justification for his remark to the Duke of Leeds, that the coalition had never been in contemplation; for the matter seems never to have come before the Cabinet. But as a statement between man and man it leaves something to be desired on the score of accuracy. Annoyance at the very exalted position marked out for the Duke, whose capacity Pitt rated decidedly low, may have led him to belittle the whole affair; for signs of constraint and annoyance are obvious in his other answers to his late colleague. There, then, we must leave this question, involved in something [Pg 39]of mystery.[54] We shall not be far wrong in concluding that Pitt wished for the formation of a national Ministry, and that the plan failed, partly from the resolve of Fox never to play second to Pitt; and still more from the personal way in which the King regarded the suggestion.

The King meanwhile had marked his sense of the value of Pitt's services by pressing on him the honourable position of Warden of the Cinque Ports, with a stipend of £3,000 a year, intimating at the same time that he would not hear of his declining it (6th August).[55] It is a proof of the spotless purity of Pitt's reputation that not a single libel or gibe appeared in the Press on his acceptance of this almost honorary post.[56]

One brilliant recruit to the Whig ranks was now won over to the national cause, of which Pitt was seen to be the incarnation. Already at Eton and Oxford George Canning had shown the versatility of his genius and the precocious maturity of his eloquence. When his Oxford friend, Jenkinson (the future Earl of Liverpool) made a sensational début in the House on the Tory side, Sheridan remarked that the Whigs would soon provide an antidote in the person of young Canning. Great, then, was their annoyance when the prodigy showed signs of breaking away from the society of the Crewes and Sheridan, in order to ally himself with Pitt. So little is known respecting the youth of Canning that the motives which prompted his breach with Sheridan are involved in uncertainty. It is clear, however, from his own confession that, after some discussion with Orde, he himself made the first offer of allegiance to Pitt in a letter of 26th July 1792. He then informed the Prime Minister that, though on terms of friendship with eminent members of the Opposition, he was "in no way bound to them by any personal or political obligation," and was therefore entirely free to choose his own party; that he was ambitious of being connected with Pitt, but lacked the means to win an election, and yet refused to be brought in by any individual—a reference, seemingly, to an offer made to him by the Duke of Portland. In reply, Pitt proposed an interview at Downing Street on Wednesday, 15th August.[57]

At noon on that day the two men first met. We can picture them as they faced one another in the formal surroundings of the Prime Minister's study. Pitt, at this time thirty-three years of age, had lost some of the slimness of youth, but his figure was bony, angular, and somewhat awkward. His face was as yet scarcely marked by the slight Bacchic blotches which told of carouses with Dundas at Wimbledon. Months and years of triumph (apart from the Russian defeat) had stiffened his confidence and pride; but the fateful shadow of the French Revolution must have struck a chill to his being, especially then, on the arrival of news of the pitiable surrender of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, and the shooting down of the Swiss Guards at the Tuileries. No royalist could look on the future without inward shuddering; and both these men were ardent royalists. We know from Canning's confession that it was the starting of the club, the Friends of the People, in April 1792, which disgusted him with the forward section of the Whigs; and their subsequent action completed the breach. Pitt's endeavour to form a national Administration must have gained a new significance from the terrible news from Paris. We may be sure, then, that the youth of twenty-two years gazed with eager interest on the stately form before him as at the embodiment of political wisdom, purity, and patriotism.

They shook hands. Then for a time they ambled coyly around the subject at issue, and talked of "France and Jenkinson, and other equally important concerns." Indeed Pitt seems to have been as nervous and awkward as the novice. At length he plunged into business. "It is your wish, I believe, Mr. Canning (and I am sure it is mine), to come in, etc." On Canning bowing assent, Pitt remarked that it was not easy to find an inexpensive seat, and commented on his expressed desire not to tie himself to any borough-owner. Whereupon the young aspirant, with more pride than tact, threw in the remark that he would not like to be personally beholden to such an one, for instance, as Lord Lonsdale (who first brought Pitt into Parliament). The [Pg 41]Prime Minister seemed not to notice the gaucherie, and stated that the Treasury had only six seats at its disposal, but could arrange matters with "proprietors of burgage-tenures." Thereupon Canning broke in more deftly. In that case, he said, it must be made clear that he bound himself to follow, not the borough-owner, but the Prime Minister. Here he more than recovered lost ground, if indeed he had lost any. Pitt expressed his sense of the compliment, and said that this could be managed, unless the young member came to differ absolutely from his patron. Canning then frankly confessed his inability to follow Pitt in maintaining the Test Act. Equally frank and cordial was the reply, that he (Pitt) did not claim exact agreement, especially on "speculative subjects," but only "a general good disposition towards Government," which might be strengthened by frequent contact.

Such was the course of this memorable interview. It sealed for ever the allegiance of the youth to his self-chosen leader. He had prepared Sheridan, and through him Fox and Bouverie, for this change of front. The openness, the charm, the self-effacing patriotism of the Minister thenceforth drew him as by an irresistible magnet. The brilliance and joviality of Fox and Sheridan counted as nothing against the national impulse which the master now set in motion and the pupil was destined to carry to further lengths. There was a natural sympathy between these men both in aim and temperament. It is a sign of the greatness of Pitt that from the outset he laid the spell of his genius irrevocably upon Canning.

Deferring to the next chapter a study of the democratic movement in Great Britain, we now turn our attention to the relations of Pitt to France, a topic which thenceforth dominates his life story and the destinies of mankind.

In the month of January 1792, there arrived in London an envoy charged with important proposals from the French Government. It was Talleyrand, ex-bishop of Autun. Pitt had become acquainted with him during his residence at Rheims in the summer of 1783; but the circumstances of the case now forbade anything more than passing intercourse with that most charming of talkers and subtlest of diplomatists. Talleyrand, having been a member of the first, or Constituent, Assembly, was prevented by the constitution of September 1791 from holding[Pg 42] any office for two years after that date. Therefore his visit to London was ostensibly on private affairs. The Duc de Biron was the envoy, and Talleyrand merely his adviser. He was instructed to seek "to maintain and strengthen the good understanding which exists between the two Kingdoms."[58]

This was only the official pretext for the mission, the secret aim of which was to win the friendship, if not the alliance, of England in case of a Franco-Austrian war. In the early days of January 1792 the constitutional Ministry, holding office, though not power, at Paris, seemed to be working for a rupture with the Hapsburgs, partly in order to please the Jacobins, and partly to escape the ever increasing difficulties of its position. The earlier causes of dispute do not concern us here. As we have seen, the Emperor Leopold was far from desirous of war; but the provocative attitude of the Legislative Assembly at Paris and the humiliations of his sister, Marie Antoinette, aroused his resentment; and, early in January, he was heard to say "that if the French madmen were determined to force him into a war, they should find that the pacific Leopold knew how to wage it with the greatest vigour, and would oblige them to pay its expenses in something more solid than assignats." Our ambassador, Sir Robert Keith, was, however, convinced that this outburst and the westward march of troops were but "empty parade."[59]

On the other hand Earl Gower, British ambassador at Paris, reported that the Ministry, the Assembly, and the Jacobins Club (with the exception of Robespierre and his clique) desired war.[60] In truth, there seemed little risk in a struggle with the exhausted Hapsburg States, provided that they had support neither from Prussia nor from England. De Ségur therefore set out for Berlin, and Talleyrand for London, to secure the friendly neutrality or support of those Governments. The latter envoy was specially suited for his mission, as he carried on the traditions of Mirabeau, who in the closing months of his life urged the need of an Anglo-French entente.[61]

Talleyrand and Biron reached London on 24th January 1792. Before reaching the capital they read in the English papers that they had arrived there, and had been very coldly received by Pitt—a specimen of the arts by which the French émigrés in [Pg 43]London sought to embitter the relations between the two lands. Talleyrand had the good fortune to occupy a seat in the Strangers' Gallery at the opening of Parliament close to two ardent royalists, Cazalès and Lally-Tollendal. What must have been their feelings on hearing in the King's speech the statement of his friendly relations to the other Powers and his resolve to reduce the army and navy?

Already Pitt had seen Talleyrand. He reminded him in a friendly way of their meeting at Rheims, remarked on the unofficial character of the ex-bishop's "mission," but expressed his willingness to discuss French affairs, about which he even showed "curiosity." Grenville afterwards spoke to the envoy in the same courteous but non-committal manner. Talleyrand was, however, charmed. He wrote to Delessart, the Foreign Minister at Paris: "Your best ground is England; ... Believe me the rumours current in France about the disposition of England towards us are false."[62] He urged the need of showing a bold front; for "it is with a fleet that you must speak to England."

Talleyrand throughout showed the sagacity which earned him fame in diplomacy. He was not depressed by the King's frigid reception of him at St. James's on 1st February, or by the Queen refusing even to notice him. Even the escapades of Biron did not dash his hopes. That envoy ran up debts and bargained about horses avec un nommé Tattersall, qui tient dans sa main tous les chevaux d'Angleterre, until he was arrested for debt and immured in a "sponging house," whence the appeals of the ex-bishop failed to rescue him. As Biron had come with an official order to buy horses with a view to the impending war with Austria, we may infer that his arrest was the work of some keen-witted émigré.

Even this, however, was better than the fortunes of Ségur, who found himself openly flouted both by King and courtiers at Berlin. For Frederick William was still bent on a vigorous policy. On 7th February his Ministers signed with Prince Reuss, the Austrian envoy, a secret treaty of defensive alliance, mainly for the settlement of French affairs, but also with a side glance at Poland. The Prussian Ministers probably hoped for a peaceful but profitable settlement, which would leave them free for a decisive intervention in the Polish troubles now coming to [Pg 44]a crisis; but Frederick William was in a more warlike mood, and longed to overthrow the "rebels" in France. Ségur's mission to Berlin was therefore an utter failure. That of Talleyrand, on the other hand, achieved its purpose, mainly because Pitt and Grenville never had any other desire than to remain strictly neutral. It was therefore superfluous for Talleyrand to hint delicately at the desirability of the friendship of France for England, in view of the war with Tippoo Sahib in India, and the increasing ferment in Ireland.[63]

On 1st March Grenville again assured him of the earnest desire of the British Government to see the end of the troubles in France, and declared that Pitt and he had been deeply wounded by the oft-repeated insinuations that they had sought to foment them. All such charges were absurd; for "a commercial people stands only to gain by the freedom of all those who surround it." We may reasonably conclude that these were the words of Pitt; for they recall that noble passage of the "Wealth of Nations": "A nation that would enrich itself by trade is certainly most likely to do so when its neighbours are all rich, industrious, and commercial nations."[64] For the rest, Grenville defied the calumniators of England to adduce a single proof in support of their slanders, and requested Talleyrand to remain some time in England for the purpose of observing public opinion. He warned him, however, that the Cabinet could not give an answer to his main proposal.

More than this Talleyrand could scarcely expect. He had already divined the important secret that the Cabinet was divided on this subject, the King, Thurlow, and Camden being hostile to France, while Pitt, Grenville, and Dundas were friendly. When Talleyrand ventured to ascribe those sentiments to Pitt and Grenville, the latter did not deny it, and he at once echoed the desire expressed by the envoy for the conclusion of an Anglo-French alliance. That the greater part of the British people would have welcomed such a compact admits of no doubt. On the walls were often chalked the words: "No war with the French." Talleyrand advised the Foreign Minister, Delessart, to send immediately to London a fully accredited ambassador; for the talk often was: "We have an ambassador at Paris. Why have not you one here?" Nevertheless, a despatch of Grenville [Pg 45]to Gower, on 9th March, shows that Pitt and he keenly felt the need of caution. They therefore enjoined complete silence on Gower. In truth, Grenville's expressions, quoted above, were merely the outcome of the good will which he and Pitt felt towards France. But these words from the two powerful Ministers meant safety for France on her coasts, whatever might betide her on the Meuse and the Rhine.

On the day when Grenville spoke these words of peace, two events occurred which portended war. Leopold II died; and an irritating despatch, which he and Kaunitz had recently sent to Paris, was read out to the Legislative Assembly. Thereafter a rupture was inevitable. Francis II, who now ascended the throne of his father, was a shy, proud, delicate youth of twenty-four years, having only a superficial knowledge of public affairs, scarcely known to the Ministers, and endowed with a narrow pedantic nature which was to be the bane of his people. He lacked alike the sagacity, the foresight, and the suppleness of Leopold. Further, though his inexperience should have inspired him with a dread of war for his storm-tossed States, yet that same misfortune subjected him to the advice of the veteran Chancellor, Kaunitz. That crabbed old man advised the maintenance of a stiff attitude towards France; and this, in her present temper, entailed war.

The last despatch from Vienna to Paris contained strongly worded advice to the French Government and Assembly to adopt a less provocative attitude, to withdraw its troops from the northern frontier, and, above all, to rid itself of the factious minority which controlled its counsels. If Leopold had hoped to intimidate France or to strengthen the peace-party at Paris, he made the greatest mistake of his reign. The war party at once gained the ascendancy, decreed the arrest of Delessart for his tame reply to Vienna, and broke up the constitutional Ministry. Their successors were mainly Girondins. The most noteworthy are Roland, who took the Home Office; Clavière, Finance; and Dumouriez, Foreign Affairs. The last was a man of great energy and resource. A soldier by training, and with a dash of the adventurer in his nature, he now leapt to the front, and astonished France by his zeal and activity. He was not devoid of prudence; for, as appears from Gower's despatch of 30th March, he persuaded the Assembly to postpone action until an answer arrived to his last despatch to Vienna. Gower[Pg 46] found from conversation with Dumouriez that a rupture must ensue if a satisfactory reply did not arrive by 15th April.[65] Four days later, as no answer came, the Council of Ministers decided on war; and on the next day Louis formally proposed it to the Assembly, which assented with acclamation.

Secondary causes helped on the rupture. Frederick William encouraged the young Emperor to draw the sword, and led him to expect Alsace and Lorraine as his share of the spoil, the duchies of Jülich and Berg falling to Prussia. Catharine also fanned the crusading zeal at Berlin and Vienna in the hope of having "more elbow-room," obviously in Poland.[66] Further, the news from Madrid and Stockholm indisposed the French Assembly to endure any dictation from Vienna. At the end of February Floridablanca fell from power at Madrid, and his successor, Aranda, showed a peaceful front. And, on 16th March Gustavus of Sweden was assassinated by Anckarström, a tool of the revengeful nobles. This loss was severely felt. The royalist crusade now had no Tancred, only an uninspiring Duke of Brunswick.

Though France took the final step of declaring war, it is now known that Austria had done much to provoke it and nothing to prevent it. The young Emperor refused to withdraw a word of the provocative despatch; and in his letter to Thugut at Brussels, he declared he was weary of the state of things in France and had decided to act and put an end to it; "that he should march his troops at once, and the French must be amused for two months until the troops arrived; then, whether the French attacked him or not, he should attack them."[67] Keith also wrote from Vienna to Grenville on 2nd May, that the French declaration of war had come in the nick of time to furnish the Hapsburgs with the opportunity of throwing the odium of the war upon France.[68] Other proofs might be cited; and it seems certain that, if France had not thrown down the gauntlet, both the German Powers would have attacked her in the early summer of 1792. Pitt and Grenville, looking on at these conflicting schemes, formed the perfectly correct surmise that both sides were bent on war, and that little or nothing could be done to avert it.

We must now trace the policy of Pitt somewhat closely. The [Pg 47]question at issue is, whether he favoured the royalist or the democratic cause, and was responsible for the ensuing friction between England and France, which culminated in the long and disastrous strifes of 1793–1801.

Dumouriez, as we have seen, threw down the gauntlet to Austria in the hope of securing the neutrality of Prussia and the friendship of England. Accordingly he decided to send Talleyrand on a second mission to London. That skilful diplomat had recently returned to Paris; and the Foreign Minister drew up, perhaps in concert with him, a Memoir entitled "Reflections on a Negotiation with England in case of War," which provided the text for Talleyrand's discourse to Pitt and Grenville. The gist of it is that Talleyrand must convince the British Government of the need of a French attack on the Belgic provinces of Austria as the sole means of safety. For, while offensive in appearance, it is in reality defensive. France does not intend to keep those provinces; and, even if her conquest of them brings about the collapse of the Stadholder's power in Holland, England will do well not to intervene in favour of the Orange régime. For what good can the Island Power gain by war with France? She may take the French colonies; but that will mean a tiresome struggle with the revolted negroes in the West Indies. France, meanwhile, with her new-born strength, will conquer Central Europe and then throw her energy into her fleet. The better course, then, for England will be to remain neutral, even if Holland be revolutionized, and the estuary of the Scheldt be thrown open to all nations. Or, still better, England may help France to keep in check the King of Prussia and the Prince of Orange. In that case the two free Powers will march hand in hand and "become the arbiters of peace or war for the whole world."

This remarkable pronouncement claims attention for several reasons. Firstly, it proves that Dumouriez and Talleyrand believed their sole chance of safety to lie in the conquest of Austria's Belgic provinces, where a cognate people would receive them with open arms. That is to say, they desired war with Austria, and they did not dread the prospect of war with Prussia, provided that England remained neutral and friendly. Pitt and Grenville were well aware of this from Gower's despatches. Our ambassador had warned them that France recked little of a war with the whole of Europe, provided that England held aloof.[Pg 48] Secondly, this fact disposes of the subsequent charge of Fox against Pitt, that he ought to have sided with France in 1792 and thereby to have prevented the attack of the German Powers. For, as we have seen, it was she who took the irrevocable step of declaring war on Austria; and further, the details given above prove that all that Frenchmen expected from Pitt was neutrality. By remaining neutral, while the French overran Belgium, Pitt was favouring the French plans more than any British statesman had done since the time of James II. Thirdly, we notice in the closing sentences of these Reflections signs of that extraordinary self-confidence which led Girondins and Jacobins to face without flinching even the prospect of war with England.

What was Pitt's conduct at this crisis? He knew enough of the politics of Berlin and Vienna to see that those Courts would almost certainly make war on France. He adopted therefore the line of conduct which prudence and love of peace dictated, a strict neutrality. But he refused to proclaim it to the world, as it would encourage France to attack Austria. At the same time Grenville let it be known that Austria must not be deprived of her Belgic lands, which England had assured to her, firstly by the Treaty of Utrecht (1713), and quite recently by the Reichenbach Convention. As Grenville phrased it—"The Pays Bas form the chain which unites England to the Continent, and the central knot of our relations to Austria and Russia. It would be broken if they belonged to France." Talleyrand and Dumouriez knew this perfectly well, and prudently declared that France had no intention of keeping those lands. Would that the Jacobins and Napoleon had shown the same wise self-restraint! It was their resolve to dominate the Netherlands which brought them into irreconcilable opposition to Pitt and his successors down to the year 1814.

Statesmanlike though the aims of Dumouriez were, they suffered not a little in their exposition. Talleyrand, the brain of the policy, was not its mouthpiece. In the French embassy at Portman Square he figured merely as adviser to the French ambassador, the ci-devant Marquis de Chauvelin, a vain and showy young man, devoid of the qualities of insight, tact, and patience in which the ex-bishop of Autun excelled his contemporaries. Had this sage counsellor remained in London to the end of the year, things might have gone very differently. The instructions issued to Chauvelin contain ideas similar to[Pg 49] those outlined above; but they lay stress on the utility of a French alliance for England, in order to thwart the aims of a greedy Coalition and to ensure her own internal tranquillity, which, it is hinted, France can easily ruffle. Talleyrand is also charged to offer to cede the small but valuable island, Tobago, which we lost in 1783, provided that the British Government guaranteed a French loan of £3,000,000 or £4,000,000, to be raised in London; and he is to suggest that, if the two Powers acted together, they could revolutionize Spanish America and control the world.[69]

Our curiosity is aroused as to the reception which Pitt and Grenville gave to these schemes. It is not certain, however, that Chauvelin and Talleyrand showed their hand completely; for events told against them from the outset. Chauvelin bore with him an autograph letter from Louis XVI to George III, couched in the friendliest terms, and expressing the hope of closer relations between the two peoples.[70] But before he could present it to the King at St. James's, it appeared in the Paris papers. This breach of etiquette created a bad impression; for it seemed that the letter was merely a bid for an alliance between the two peoples. It is quite possible that Dumouriez, with his natural impulsiveness, allowed it to gain currency in order to identify Louis XVI with French democracy, and that in its turn with public opinion in England. Further, we now know that Marie Antoinette, in her resolve to paralyse the policy and the defensive power of France, wrote at once to Fersen at Brussels that her consort's letter was very far from speaking his real sentiments.[71] This news, when passed on to London, must have made it clear that the two envoys represented the Girondin Ministry, but not the King of France. Then again tidings soon arrived of the disgraceful flight of the French troops on the Belgian frontier, the new levies, at sight of the Austrian horse, rushing back to Lille in wild disorder and there murdering their General, Theobald Dillon. George III and Grenville wrote of this event in terms of disgust and contempt.[72] It is therefore not surprising that the reception of Chauvelin was far from promising;[Pg 50] and Talleyrand doubtless felt that the time was not ripe for discussing an Anglo-French entente for the control of the world.

In fact, the envoys were received coolly from the outset. The outbreak of war on the Continent had caused almost a panic in the City. The Funds dropped sharply, and Pitt ordered an official denial to sinister reports of a forthcoming raid by the press-gang. A little later he assured a deputation of merchants that England would hold strictly aloof from the war. Chauvelin reported these facts to his Government along with the assurance that the Cabinet had definitely resolved on neutrality. How he came to know of that decision is a mystery; and it is scarcely less odd that a copy of his despatch reporting it should be in the Pitt Papers.[73] On the whole, then, France had good reason to be satisfied with Pitt. Austria, on the other hand, disliked his conduct. Kaunitz, with his usual acerbity, gave out that England was secretly hostile to the House of Hapsburg; and Keith, finding his position increasingly awkward, begged for his recall.

The first sign of friction between England and France arose out of the King's proclamation against seditious writings, which we noticed in the last chapter. Chauvelin complained of some of its phrases, and stated that France waged war for national safety, not for aggrandizement. Grenville thereupon loftily remarked that Chauvelin had no right to express an opinion on a question which concerned solely the King's Government and Parliament. The British reply irritated by its curt correctness.

Equally unfortunate were some incidents in the ensuing debates on this topic. Some members emphasized their loyalty by adverting tartly to the connections of Thomas Paine and English reformers with the French Jacobins. On 31st May the Duke of Richmond charged that writer with being an emissary from abroad, because he had advised the destruction of the British navy.[74] There is no such passage in the "Rights of Man"; and the Duke must have read with the distorting lens of fear or hatred the suggestion that, if England, France, and the United States were allied, a very small navy would be needed, costing not more than half a million a year.[75] But this incident is typical of the prejudice that was growing against France. Grenville in [Pg 51]the same debate declared that the Corresponding Societies avowed their connection with foreign clubs and were engaged in circulating pamphlets. The conclusion was obvious, that close relations with France must be avoided. As to the feeling of the Royal Family, it was manifested in an effusively loyal speech by the Prince of Wales, his first speech at Westminster. In it he marked his entire severance from Fox on this question.

Grenville's complaisance to the French envoys was perhaps little more than a blind to mask his contempt for them and their principles. On 19th June he wrote to Auckland respecting the "ignorance and absurdity of the French mission," but suggested that the picking a quarrel with France would only help the English Jacobins to introduce French notions. Even if this mission were got rid of, some one else might come who might make even more mischief. These expressions refer to the connections which Chauvelin and Talleyrand had formed with the Opposition. As Bland Burges remarked: "Talleyrand is intimate with Paine, Home Tooke, Lord Lansdowne, and a few more of that stamp, and is generally scouted by every one else." George III's words were equally contemptuous and marked his resolve to have as little as possible to do with France.[76] Pitt did not state his opinions on this topic; but he probably held those of Grenville.

The prejudices of the King and the resolves of the two chief Ministers proved fatal to an ardent appeal which came from Paris in the middle of June. As the attitude of the Court of Berlin became more and more warlike, Dumouriez put forth one more effort to gain the friendly mediation of England and thus assure peace with Prussia. Chauvelin, swallowing his annoyance at Grenville's recent note, pointed out that Austria was making great efforts to induce Prussia, Holland, and the lesser German States to join her in the war against liberty. The designs of the monarchs against Poland were notorious; and it was clear that a vast conspiracy was being hatched against the free States of the Continent. Would not England, then, endeavour to stop the formation of this reactionary league?

The occasion was, indeed, highly important. It is conceivable that, if British influence had been powerful at Berlin, a spirited declaration would have had some effect at that Court. Unfortunately[Pg 52] our influence had sunk to zero since the Oczakoff fiasco of 1791. Moreover, the Prussian Government had by that time decided to break with France. Her envoys were dismissed from Berlin in the first week of June, and it is probable that Pitt and Grenville by 18th June knew of the warlike resolve of the Prussian Government. In any case, after a delay of twenty days, they sent once more a reply to Chauvelin's request, affirming the earnest desire of His Majesty to contribute to the restoration of peace, but re-asserting his decision in favour of unswerving neutrality. On 24th July Prussia declared war against France, and three days later the Duke of Brunswick issued the famous manifesto to the French people which thrilled the French people with indignation against the hapless sovereigns at the Tuileries whom it was designed to protect.[77]

The outbreak of war on the Rhine and Meuse was an event of incalculable importance. As we have seen, Pitt discouraged the bellicose tendencies of the émigrés and of the Austrian and Prussian Courts. But the passions of the time ran too high to admit of the continuance of peace; and State after State was soon to be drawn into the devouring vortex of strife. Strange to say the first to suffer from the outbreak of hostilities was Poland. That Republic entered on a new lease of life in the spring of the year 1791. The constitution adopted with enthusiasm on 3rd May substituted an hereditary for an elective monarchy, and otherwise strengthened the fabric of that almost anarchic State. Social and civic reforms promised also to call its burghers and serfs to a life of activity or comfort. But the change at once aroused keen dislike at St. Petersburg and Berlin. Prussian statesmen resented any improvement in the condition of their nominal ally, and declared that, if Russia gained a strong position on the Euxine, Prussia and Austria must secure indemnities at the expense of Poland.

The Czarina soon succeeded in heading them in that direction. After the signature of the Peace of Jassy with the Turks early in January 1792, she began openly to encourage the factious efforts of Polish malcontents. The troubles at Paris also enabled her to engage the Courts of Vienna and Berlin [Pg 53]in a western crusade on which she bestowed her richest blessing, her own inmost desires meanwhile finding expression in the following confidential utterance: "I am breaking my head to make the Cabinets of Vienna and Berlin intervene in the affairs of France. I wish to see them plunged into some very complicated question in order to have my own hands free."[78] Though her old opponent, Kaunitz, fathomed her intentions, she partly succeeded in persuading the Austrian and Prussian Ministers that their mission clearly was to stamp out Jacobinism at Paris, while Providence reserved for her the duty of extirpating its offshoots at Warsaw. In the Viennese Court, where the value of a regenerated Poland as a buffer State was duly appreciated, there were some qualms as to the spoliation of that unoffending State; but Prussian politicians, in their eagerness for the Polish districts, Danzig and Thorn, harboured few scruples as to betraying the cause of their allies at Warsaw.

Little by little the outlines of a scheme were sketched between Austria and Prussia for securing indemnities for the expenses of the war against France; and it was arranged that Prussia should acquire the coveted lands on the lower Vistula; also Anspach and Baireuth; Austria was to effect the long-desired Belgic-Bavarian exchange, besides gaining parts of Alsace; and it was understood that Russia would annex the Polish Ukraine and work her will in the rest of Poland. The Polish part of the scheme was, however, stiffly opposed by Kaunitz; and in the sequel the old Chancellor ended his long and distinguished career by way of protest against a change of front which he deemed unwise and disgraceful.[79]

Early in May everything was ready for the restoration of anarchy in Poland. Catharine ordered her troops to enter its borders; and the factious Polish nobles whom she had sheltered during the winter returned to their land and formed a "Confederation" at Targowicz on 14th May for the purpose of undoing the reforms of 1791. Daniel Hailes, our envoy at Warsaw, kept Grenville fully informed of this affair. On 16th June he reported Austria's desertion of Poland, the brutal refusal of the Court of Berlin to accord help to its ally, the heroic efforts of Kosciusko [Pg 54]and the Polish levies to resist the Russian armies, and the despair of the patriots of Warsaw, adding the cynical comment that at Warsaw patriotism was only a cloak for private interest, and that the new constitution was generally regarded as the death-blow to Polish independence.[80] Whether he added these words to please Grenville, who had always discouraged the Polish cause,[81] is not easy to say; but the statement cannot be reconciled with Hailes's earlier enthusiasm for that well-meant effort.

On all sides the Polish patriots now found indifference or hostility. The Elector of Saxony (their King-elect) gave them cold words; and Catharine demanded the restoration of the old constitution of which she was a guarantor. King Stanislaus, a prey to deep despondency, saw the defence collapse on all sides, and at the close of June the Russians drew near to Warsaw. Many of the Polish reformers fled to Leipzig and there prepared to appeal to Europe against this forcible suppression of a truly national constitution.

Amidst these scenes Hailes was replaced by Colonel Gardiner, who received from Grenville the following instructions, dated 4th August 1792. He informed him that Hailes had last year been charged "to confine himself to such assurances of His Majesty's good wishes as could be given without committing H.M. to any particular line of conduct with respect to any troubles that might arise on the subject [of the Polish Revolution]. The event has unhappily but too well justified their reserve; and the present situation is such as to leave little hope that the tranquillity of that unfortunate land can be restored without its falling again into the most entire dependence on the power of Russia, even if no further dismemberment of territory should take place." Grenville then stated that Prussia's conduct was due to fear of a strong Government in Poland; but the present alternative (a Russian occupation) would probably be worse for her. He added these sentences: "No intervention of the Maritime Powers [England and Holland] could be serviceable to Poland, at least not without a much greater exertion and expense than the importance to their separate interests could possibly justify.... You are to be very careful not to do anything which could hold out ill-grounded expectations of support from this country."

In these words Grenville passed sentence of death upon Poland. On this important subject he must have acted with the consent of Pitt; but the opinion of the latter is unknown. It would seem that after the weak treatment of the Oczakoff crisis by Parliament, he gave up all hope of saving either Turkey or Poland. If that was impracticable in the spring of 1791, how much more so in August 1792, when French affairs claimed far closer attention? It is worth noticing that several of the Foxites (not Fox himself, for he was still intent on a Russian alliance),[82] now revised their opinion about Catharine II and inveighed against her for trampling on the liberties of Poland. Did they now discover the folly of their conduct in previously encouraging her?

In despair of help from England, some of the patriots of Warsaw turned towards France. But this added to their misfortunes. It gave the schemers of Berlin the longed-for excuse of intervening by force under the pretext that they must stamp out "the French evil" from States bordering on their own. On hearing of the advance of three Prussian columns, Catharine threw her whole weight into Polish affairs.

So closely did the fortunes of Poland intertwine themselves with those of France. The outbreak of the Franco-Austrian war meant ruin for the reformers at Warsaw. Had Austria held to her former resolve, to prevent the triumph of Russia or Prussia in Poland, it is possible that Pitt and Grenville would have decided to support her. As it was, they maintained their cautious and timid neutrality. The reports of Hailes were explicit enough to show that another partition was at hand; but, so far as I can discover, they lifted not a finger to prevent it. The excess of Pitt's caution at this crisis enables us to gauge the magnitude of the disaster to the Polish cause involved by his surrender to the Czarina in the spring and summer of 1791. By a wonderful display of skill and audacity she emerged triumphant from all her difficulties, and now, while egging on the German Powers to war with France, planted her heel on the liberties of Poland. Her conquest was easy and profitable. The restoration of order at Paris proved to be fraught with unexpected dangers, and the German sovereigns scarcely set their hands to the task before they discovered that they were her dupes. If [Pg 56]the French war worked disaster at Warsaw, the prospect of a partition of Poland undoubtedly helped to lessen the pressure on France during the campaign of Valmy. Hope of further spoils in 1794–5 distracted the aims of the Allies; and Pitt was destined to see the efforts of the monarchical league in the West weaken and die away under the magnetic influence of the eastern problem. Well would it have been for him if he could have upheld Poland in 1791. By so doing he would have removed the cause of bitter dissensions between the Houses of Romanoff, Hapsburg, and Hohenzollern. As will appear in due course, Revolutionary France achieved her marvellous triumphs partly by the prowess of her sons, but still more owing to the intrigues and feuds which clogged the efforts of the Allies and baffled the constructive powers of Pitt.

CHAPTER III

It seems absolutely impossible to hesitate as to supporting our Ally [Holland] in case of necessity, and the explicit declaration of our sentiments is the most likely way to prevent the case occurring.—Pitt to Lord Stafford, 13th November 1792.

One of the first requisites for the study of a period whose outlines are well known, is to bar out the insidious notion that the course of events was inevitable. Nine persons out of ten have recourse to that easy but fallacious way of explaining events. The whole war, they say, or think, was inevitable. It was fated that the Duke of Brunswick should issue his threatening manifesto to the Parisians if violence were offered to Louis XVI; that they should resent the threat, rise in revolt, and dethrone the King, and thereafter massacre royalists in the prisons. The innate vigour of the democratic cause further required that the French should stand their ground at Valmy and win a pitched battle at Jemappes, that victory leading to an exaltation of soul in which the French Republicans pushed on their claims in such a way as to bring England into the field. History, when written in this way, is a symmetrical mosaic; and the human mind loves patterns.

But events are not neatly chiselled; they do not fall into geometrical groups, however much the memory, for its own ease, seeks to arrange them thus. Their edges are jagged; and the slightest jar might have sent them in different ways. To recur to the events in question: the Duke of Brunswick objected to issuing the manifesto, and only owing to the weariness or weakness of old age, yielded to the insistence of the émigrés at his headquarters: the insurrection at Paris came about doubtfully and fitfully; the issue on 10th August hung mainly on the personal bearing of the King; the massacres were the work of[Pg 58] an insignificant minority, which the vast mass regarded with sheer stupefaction; and even the proclamation of the French Republic by the National Convention on 21st September was not without many searchings of heart.[83]

Meanwhile Pitt and Grenville had not the slightest inkling as to the trend of events. The latter on 13th July 1792 wrote thus to Earl Gower at Paris: "My speculations are that the first entrance of the foreign troops [into France] will be followed by negotiations; but how they are to end, or what possibility there is to establish any form of government, or any order in France, is far beyond any conjectures I can form."[84] This uncertainty is illuminating. It shows that Pitt and Grenville were not farseeing schemers bent on undermining the liberties of France and Britain by a war on which they had long resolved, but fallible mortals, unable to see a handbreadth through the turmoil, but cherishing the hope that somehow all would soon become clear. As to British policy during the summer of 1792, it may be classed as masterly inactivity or nervous passivity, according to the standpoint of the critic. In one case alone did Pitt and Grenville take a step displeasing to the French Government, namely, by recalling Gower from the embassy at Paris; and this was due to the fall of the French monarchy on 10th August, and to the danger attending the residence of a noble in Paris. Only by a display of firmness did Gower and his secretary, Lindsay, succeed in obtaining passports from the new Foreign Minister, Lebrun.[85]

That follower of Dumouriez had as colleagues the former Girondin Ministers, Clavière, Roland, and Servan. Besides them were Monge (the physicist) for the Navy, and Danton for Justice, the latter a far from reassuring choice, as he was known to be largely responsible for the massacres in the prisons of Paris early in September. Little is known about the publicist, Lebrun, on whom now rested the duty of negotiating with England, Spain, Holland, etc. It is one of the astonishing facts of this time that unknown men leaped to the front at Paris, directed affairs to momentous issues, and then sank into obscurity or perished. The Genevese Clavière started assignats and managed revolutionary finance; Servan controlled the War Office for some months with much ability, and then fell; Pétion, Santerre, the [Pg 59]popular Paris brewer, and an ex-hawker, Hanriot, were successively rulers of Paris for a brief space.

But of all the puzzles of this time Lebrun is perhaps the chief. In his thirtieth year he was Foreign Minister of France, when she broke with England, Holland, Spain, and the Empire. He is believed by many (e.g., by W. A. Miles, who knew him well) to be largely responsible for those wars. Yet who was this Lebrun? Before the Revolution he had to leave France for his advanced opinions, and took refuge at Liége, where Miles found him toiling for a scanty pittance at journalistic hack-work. Suffering much at the hands of the Austrians in 1790, he fled back to Paris, joined the Girondins, wrote for them, made himself useful to Dumouriez during his tenure of the Foreign Office, and, not long after his resignation, stepped into his shoes and appropriated his policy. In order to finish with him here, we may note that he voted for the death of Louis XVI, and, as President of the Executive Council at that time, signed the order for the execution. He and other Girondins were driven from power on 2nd June 1793 (when Hanriot's brazen voice decided the fate of the Girondins) and he was guillotined on 23rd December of that year, for the alleged crime of conspiring to place Philippe Egalité on the throne. Mme. Roland, who helped Lebrun to rise to power, limns his portrait in these sharp outlines: "He passed for a wise man, because he showed no kind of élan; and for a clever man, because he was a fairly good clerk; but he possessed neither activity, intellect, nor force of character." The want of élan seems to be a term relative merely to the characteristics of the Girondins, who, whatever they lacked, had that Gallic quality in rich measure.

Chauvelin, the French ambassador in London, is another of these revolutionary rockets. Only in fiction and the drama does he stand forth at all clearly to the eye. History knows him not, except that he had been a marquis, then took up with the Girondins, finally shot up among the Jacobins and made much noise by his intrigues and despatches. With all his showiness and vanity he had enough shrewdness to suit his language at the French embassy in Portman Square to the Jacobin jargon of the times. After the September massacres the only hope for an aristocratic envoy was to figure as an irreproachable patriot. Chauvelin's dealings with the English malcontents therefore became more and more pronounced; for indeed they served both[Pg 60] as a life insurance and as a means of annoying Pitt and Grenville in return for their refusal to recognize him as the ambassador of the new Republic. Londoners in general sided with the Ministry and snubbed the French envoys. Dumont describes their annoyance, during a visit to Ranelagh, at being received everywhere with the audible whisper, "Here comes the French embassy"; whereupon faces were turned away and a wide space was left around them.[86]

Such, then, were the men on whom largely rested the future of Europe. Lebrun mistook fussiness for activity. At a time when tact and dignity prescribed a diminution of the staff at Portman Square, he sent two almost untried men, Noël and, a little later, Benoît, to help Chauvelin to mark time. Talleyrand also gained permission to return to London as adjoint to Chauvelin, which, it appears, was the only safe means of escaping from Paris. Chauvelin speedily quarrelled with him. But the doings of the French embassy concern us little for the present, as Pitt and Grenville paid no attention to the offers, similar to those made in April, which Lebrun charged his envoys to make for an Anglo-French alliance. It is not surprising, after the September massacres, that Ministers should hold sternly aloof from the French envoys; but we may note that Miles considered their attitude most unwise. He further remarked that the proud reserve of Grenville was almost offensive.[87] We made the acquaintance of Miles as British agent at Paris in 1790 and noted his consequential airs. In 1792 they were full blown.

The opinions of George III and Pitt on the events of that bloody harvest-time in Paris are very little known. The King's letters from Weymouth to Pitt in August–September are few and brief. On 16th September, after the arrival of news of the massacres, he writes to say that his decision respecting the Prince of Wales's debts is irrevocable. After that there is a long silence. Pitt's reserve is equally impenetrable. We know, however, from the letters of Burke that the conduct of Ministers deeply disappointed him. Writing to Grenville on 19th September he says that the crisis exceeds in gravity any that is recorded in history; and he adds these curious words: "I know it is the opinion of His Majesty's Ministers that the new [French] [Pg 61]principles may be encouraged, and even triumph over every interior and exterior resistance, and may even overturn other States as they have that of France, without any sort of danger of their extending in their consequences to this Kingdom."[88] Can we have a clearer testimony to the calm but rigid resolve with which Pitt and his colleague clung to neutrality? On the following day (the day of the Battle of Valmy) Pitt frigidly declined the request of the Austrian and Neapolitan ambassadors, that the British Government would exclude from its territories all those who should be guilty of an attack on the French royal family. On 21st September Grenville issued a guarded statement on this subject to the corps diplomatique; but it was far from meeting the desires of the royalists.[89]

Reticence is a virtue over-developed in an aristocracy—"that austere domination," as Burke terms it. The virtue is slow in taking root among democracies. The early Radical clubs of Great Britain regarded it as their cherished privilege to state their opinions on foreign affairs with Athenian loquacity; and the months of October and November 1792, when we vainly seek to know the inner feelings of Pitt, are enlivened by resolutions expressing joy at the downfall of tyrants, and fervent beliefs in the advent of a fraternal millennium, the first fruits of which were the election of Paine as deputy for Calais to the National Convention.

In the dealings of nations, as of individuals, feelings often count for more than interests. This was the case in the last four months of the year 1792, when the subjects in dispute bulked small in comparison with the passions and prejudices which magnified and distorted them. The psychology of the time therefore demands no less attention than its diplomacy. Its first weeks were darkened by news of the September massacres. Even now the details of that cowardly crime arouse horror: and surely no part of Carlyle's epic sinks so low as that in which he seeks to compare that loathsome butchery with the bloodshed of a battlefield.[90] No such special pleading was attempted by leaders of thought of that period. On 10th September Romilly, a friend of human progress, wrote to Dumont: "How could we ever be so deceived in the character of the French nation as to think them capable of liberty?... One [Pg 62]might as well think of establishing a republic of tigers in some forest of Africa." To which the collaborator of Mirabeau replied: "Let us burn all our books; let us cease to think and dream of the best system of legislation, since men make so diabolical a use of every truth and every principle."[91] These feelings were general among Frenchmen. Buzot stated that the loss of morality, with all its attendant evils, dated from the September massacres.

It seems strange that the democratic cause made headway in England after this fell event. Probably its details were but dimly known to the poor, who were at this time the victims of a bad harvest and severe dearth. The months of September and October were marked by heavy and persistent rains. The Marquis of Buckingham on 23rd September wrote at Stowe to his brother, Lord Grenville, that he was living amidst a vortex of mud, clay, and water such as was never known before—the result of six weeks of unsettled weather, which must impair the harvest and increase the difficulty of maintaining order.[92] Certainly the stars in their courses fought against the ancien régime. The rains which made a receptive seed-bed for the writings of Paine also hampered the progress of Brunswick towards the Argonne, crowded his hospitals with invalids, and in part induced that inglorious retreat. As the storms lasted far into the autumn, disaffection increased apace.

The results serve to enliven the dull tones of our Home Office archives. There one reads of bread riots and meal riots so far back as May 1792, in which stalls are overturned and despoiled; also of more persistent agitation in the factory towns of the North. Liverpool leads off with a dock-strike that is with difficulty ended. Then the colliers of Wigan stop work and seek to persuade all their comrades to follow their example. Most threatening of all is the situation at Manchester and Sheffield. There, in addition to disorder among the townsfolk, disaffection gains ground among the troops sent to keep order. This again is traceable to the dearness of food, for which the scanty pay of the trooper by no means suffices. Here, then, is the opportunity for the apostle of discontent judiciously to offer a cheap edition of the "Rights of Man," on which fare the troop becomes half-mutinous and sends in a petition for higher pay. This the perplexed[Pg 63] authorities do not grant, but build barracks, a proceeding eyed askance by publicans and patriots as the beginning of military rule.[93]

The South of England, too, is beset by fears of a novel kind. After the overthrow of the French monarchy on 10th August fugitives from France come fast to the coasts of Kent and Sussex. The flights become thicker day by day up to the end of that fell month of September. Orthodox priests, always in disguise, form the bulk of the new arrivals. As many as 700 of them land at Eastbourne, and strain the hospitality of that little town. About as many reach Portsmouth and Gosport, to the perplexity of the authorities. When assured that they are staunch royalists and not apostles of Revolution, the commander allots shelter in the barracks at Forton, where for the present they exist on two pence a day each. Plymouth, which receives fewer of them, frowns on the newcomers as politically suspect and economically ruinous. The mayor assures Dundas that, if more priests arrive, or are sent there, they will be driven away by the townsfolk for fear of dearth of corn. In Jersey the food question eclipses all others; for 2,000 priests (so it is said) land there, until all ideas of hospitality are cast to the winds and the refugees are threatened with expulsion. Only in the vast obscurantism of London is there safety for these exiles. A subscription list is started on their behalf; the King offers the royal house at Winchester for the overplus at Portsmouth: and by degrees the scared throngs huddle down into the dire poverty and uneasy rest that are to be their lot for many a year.[94]

Strange adventures befell many of the French nobles in their escape. The Duc de Liancourt, commanding the troops at Rouen, was fain to flee to the coast, hire a deckless craft, and conceal himself under faggots. In that manner he put to sea and finally made the opposite coast at Hastings. There, still nervous, he made his way to the nearest inn, and, to proclaim his insularity, called for porter. The beverage was too much for him, and he retired to his room in a state of unconscious passivity. On his awaking, the strange surroundings seemed those of a French lock-up; but as he crept down to make his escape, the mugs caught his eye; and their brightness convinced[Pg 64] him that he was in England. Such was his story, told to the family at Bury, where Fanny Burney was staying. Several of the wealthier French refugees settled at Richmond, and there found Horace Walpole as charmer and friend. But the most distinguished group was that at Juniper Hall, near Dorking where finally Mme. de Staël and Talleyrand enlivened the dull days and long drives with unfailing stores of wit. We shall later on make the acquaintance of the French émigrés in a more active and bellicose mood.

Such, then, was the mental condition of our folk. Depressed by rain and dear food, beset by stories of plotters from Paris, or harrowed by the tales of misery of the French émigrés, Britons came to look on France as a land peopled by demons, who sought to involve other lands in the ruin to which they had reduced their own. In this state of nervousness and excitement little was needed to bring about a furious reaction on behalf of Church and King.

The follies of English democrats helped on this reaction. Whispers went about of strange and threatening orders of arms at Birmingham. A correspondent at the midland capital informed Dundas at the end of September that a Dr. Maxwell, of York, had ordered 20,000 daggers, which were to be 12 inches in the blade and 5 1/4 inches in the handle. The informant convinced the manufacturer that he must apprise the Home Secretary of this order and send him a specimen of the weapon. Probably it was the same which Burke melodramatically cast down on the floor of the House of Commons during his speech of 28th December. The dimensions exactly tally with those named by the biographer of Lord Eldon, who retained that dagger, though Bland Burges also put in a claim to have possessed it. The scepticism which one feels about this prodigious order of daggers, which others give as 3,000, is somewhat lessened by finding another letter, of 2nd October 1792, addressed to Dundas by James Maxwell of York, who stated that he highly disapproved of the "French" opinions of his younger brother (specimens of whose letters he enclosed), and had just given him £500 so as to dissuade him from going to Manchester to stir up discontent there.[95] This unbrotherly [Pg 65]conduct condemns the elder Maxwell, but his information to some extent corroborated that which came from Birmingham. The whole affair may have been merely a device to frighten Ministers; but report says that Pitt took it seriously and ascribed to him the singular statement that Ministers soon might not have a hand to act with or a tongue to speak with.[96]

Certainly there was a good deal of discontent in the manufacturing towns, but it is not easy to say whether it resulted more from dear food or from political reasons. At Stockport a new club styled "The Friends of universal Peace and the Rights of Man," issued and circulated a manifesto asserting their right to inquire into political affairs:

It is our labour that supports monarchy, aristocracy, and the priesthood.... We are not the "swinish multitude" that Mr. Burke speaks of. A majority of the House of Commons is returned by less than 6,000 voters; whereas, if the representation were equal (and we sincerely hope that it shortly will be), nearly that number will elect every single member. Not one-twentieth part of the commoners of Great Britain are electors.... We have a National Debt of more than £270,000,000, and pay £17,000,000 a year in taxes. More than one fourth of our incomes goes in taxes.[97]

The Radical clubs also showed a desire to pry into foreign affairs; witness the following letter from Thomas Hardy to Dr. Adams, Secretary of the London Society for Constitutional Information:

No. 9 Piccadilly (London), Sept. 21 1792.[98]

The London Corresponding Society having taken the resolution of transmitting to the French National Convention an address ... to assure that suffering nation that we sympathize with them in their misfortunes; that we view their exertions with admiration; that we wish to give them all such contenance [sic] and support as individuals unsupported and oppressed themselves can afford; and that, should those in power here dare (in violation of the nation's pledged faith of neutrality and in opposition to the well-known sentiments of the people at large) to join the German band of despots united against Liberty, we disclaim all concurrence therein, and will to a man exert every justifiable means [Pg 66]for counteracting their machinations against the freedom and happiness of mankind.

I am ordered by the Committee to acquaint the Society for Constitutional Information therewith, in order to be favoured with their opinions thereon, and in hopes that, if they approve the idea and recommend its adoption to the different societies, the publication of such a respectable number of real names will greatly check the hostile measures which might otherwise be put in execution.

On 5th October the Society for Constitutional Information agreed to the plan, and ordered the drafting of a joint address to the French Convention. By this time the news of the successful stand of the French troops against the Allies at Valmy and the subsequent retreat of the latter greatly encouraged the English democrats; and a more militant tone appears in their addresses. Thus in that meeting of 5th October a letter was read from Joel Barlow containing these sentences: "A great Revolution in the management of the affairs of nations is doubtless soon to be expected through all Europe; and in the progress of mankind towards this attainment it is greatly to be desired that the convictions to be acquired from rational discussion should precede and preclude those which must result from physical exertion."

Why "precede and preclude"? The two expressions are incompatible. It seems that some more moderate member must have added the latter word as a sop to the authorities. In any case the last words of the sentence were clearly intended as a threat. On 26th October, John Frost being in the chair, the same Society framed the following resolution:

That the Secretary do procure correct copies of the Manifesto published by the late General Burgoyne while in America, of the first Manifesto lately published by the Duke of Brunswick in France, of the last Royal Proclamation against writings and meetings in England, and of the Emperor's recent proclamation at Brussels on the same subject; in order that these four pieces may be printed fairly together on one sheet of paper, and be transmitted by this Society to all the associated Societies in Great Britain.[99]

It was then resolved to publish this resolution in the "Argus," "Morning Chronicle,"[100] "Star," "Morning Post," "English [Pg 67]Chronicle," "World," and "Courier." These papers supported the democratic cause. In order to counteract their influence Pitt and his colleagues about this time helped to start two newspapers, "The Sun" and "The True Briton," the advent of which was much resented by Mr. Walter of "The Times," after his support of the Government.[101] Apparently these papers were of a more popular type, and heralded the advent of a cheap and sensational royalism. Sheridan wittily advised that the motto of "The Sun" should be, not merely the beginning, but the whole of the passage:

Solem quis dicere falsum
Audeat? Ille etiam caecos instare tumultus
Saepe monet, fraudemque, et operta tumescere bella.[102]

The combined address from several patriotic (i.e. reform) societies, arranged for by Thomas Hardy, was not read at the bar of the French Convention until 7th November. It set forth that the five thousand signatories indignantly stepped forth to rescue their country from the opprobrium thrown upon it by the base conduct of the Government. In vain did Ministers seek to overawe the timid and mislead the credulous: for Knowledge and Reason were making great strides in England, so that Britons now looked on Frenchmen only as "citizens of the world, children of the common Father," not as enemies to be assassinated "at the command of weak or ambitious Kings, or of corrupt Ministers." Their real enemies were the destructive aristocracy, "the bane of all the countries of the earth. You have acted wisely in banishing it from France." They (the signatories) could not take up arms to help France, because the Government had pledged the national faith that it would remain neutral. The Elector of Hanover had joined his troops to those of traitors and robbers; "but the King of England will do well to remember that England is not Hanover; should he forget this, we will not forget it.... We ardently wish a Triple Alliance, not of crowned heads, but of the people of America, France, and Great Britain will give liberty to Europe and peace [Pg 68]to the world." The address was signed by Margarot and Hardy. It and other addresses were reported verbatim by our chargé d'affaires, Munro, to the Foreign Office.[103]

The democratic ferment in England speedily aroused a decided opposition. Macaulay probably does not much exaggerate when he says that out of twenty well-to-do persons nineteen were ardently loyal and firmly anti-Jacobin. The month of November saw the formation of an "Ante [sic]-Levelling Society, for supporting the Civil Power in suppressing Tumults and maintaining the constitutional Government of this Country in King, Lords, and Commons." Its programme leaves much to be desired in the matter of style, but nothing in respect to loyalty.[104] The club was founded by Reeves and others. Hardy notes in his memoirs that it soon began to do much harm to the Corresponding Society.

Far aloof from this turmoil stands the solitary and inscrutable figure of Pitt. At this time he was leading, almost with ostentation, the life of a country gentleman, dividing his time between Holwood and Walmer Castle. Very few of his letters of this period survive. Writing from Walmer on 16th October to Grenville, he makes merely a verbal alteration in an important despatch on which the latter consulted him. Indeed he left the conduct of foreign affairs to Grenville far more fully than he had done to the Duke of Leeds. I have found no draft of a despatch written wholly by Pitt at the time, or indeed at the crisis that followed. There is, however, a significant phrase in his letter to Grenville, that, if the French retained Savoy, this would bring about a new order of things.[105] For the most part Pitt at this time gave himself up to rest and recreation at Walmer Castle. The charm of the sea and of the Downs seems to have laid hold on him; for General Smith, writing to Lord Auckland from Walmer, says that Pitt is soon in love with the King's present and gladly spends there all the time he can spare. Lord and Lady Chatham were with him and encouraged his passion for that retired spot. A little later he had a flying visit from one who was to become a devoted friend, the brilliant and versatile Earl of Mornington. Coming over from Ramsgate and lunching at Walmer, he found that Pitt had so far taken up with country sports as to follow the hounds in chase of "a basketted hare."

Apart from the bad harvest and the spectre of want which crept over the country, Pitt found little to alarm him at this time. In preparation for the opening of Parliament, he distributed to each of his friends six printed copies of his speech on the abatement of the Spanish armament taxes, for the purpose of circulation in the country.[106] Clearly he thought that the proposed economies in the public services would salve the prevailing discontent. At the close of October the French agent, Noël, reported to Lebrun that Pitt was not arming, and was still inclined to hold aloof from French affairs.[107] In fact, so late as 6th November, Grenville wrote to Auckland that on all grounds non-intervention in continental affairs is the best policy for Great Britain.[108]

But now a time drew near when anger was to expel calculation; when the impulses of the populace flung aside the counsels of statesmen, and the friends of universal peace helped to loose the dogs of war. This new phase in the life of Europe opened up when the dense columns of Dumouriez drove the thin lines of Austria from a strong position at Jemappes (6th November). Mons opened its gates on the following day; and the other towns of Belgium speedily followed suit, the French receiving a hearty welcome everywhere. The conquest of the Belgic Provinces puffed up the French with boundless pride mingled with contempt for the old Governments; and these feelings awakened a formidable response in these islands. The news of the conquest of the Pays Bas by the sansculottes, received with bewilderment and disgust in Piccadilly, aroused wild hopes among the weavers of Spitalfields. "The activity and insolence of the French emissaries and their allies in this country have certainly increased much with Dumouriez's success," so wrote Grenville to Auckland on 26th November.

In these days we smile at the notion of foreign agents influencing public opinion; but it seems certain that Chauvelin and his staff made persistent efforts to fan the embers of discontent into a flame.[109] Lord Sheffield declared that even the [Pg 70]neighbourhood of Sheffield Park, near Lewes, was thoroughly worked by French emissaries; but it is not unlikely that landlord nervousness transfigured some wretched refugees, on their way from the coast, into Jacobinical envoys. Certainly the town which gave him his title was in a dangerous state. An officer stationed there describes the joy of the men of Sheffield in celebrating Dumouriez' victory. They roasted an ox whole, devoured it, and then formed a procession, 10,000 strong, behind the French tricolour and a picture which represented Dundas stabbing Liberty and Burke treading down "the swinish multitude." He states that they were enrolled in Corresponding Societies, had bought firearms, and were seeking to corrupt the soldiery.[110]

Derby seems to have been equally fervid, if we may judge by the address which on 20th November went from its branch of the Society for Constitutional Information to the French National Convention, couched in these terms. "It was reserved for the Gallic Republic to break the accursed knot which has leagued Kings for ages past against the rest of the world. Reason and Philosophy are making great strides; and precedent and hereditary notions go fast to decline. By teaching mankind that they are all equal in rights, you have dedicated a glorious edifice to Liberty, which must hereafter prove the dungeon of tyrants and the asylum of the oppressed."[111]

Still more seditious was the action of the London Corresponding Society. On 28th November Joel Barlow and John Frost, deputed by that body, presented an address to the French Convention, congratulating it on the triumphs of liberty, and assured Frenchmen that innumerable societies and clubs were springing up in England. "After the example given by France," they said, "Revolutions will become easy. Reason is about to make rapid progress; and it would not be extraordinary if in a much less space of time than can be imagined, the French should send addresses of congratulation to a National Convention of England." They then informed the French deputies that 1,000 pairs of shoes had come from the Society as a gift to the soldiers of liberty, and the gift would be repeated weekly for the next six [Pg 71]weeks. They also presented an address which ended thus: "Other nations will soon follow your steps in this career of improvement, and, rising from their lethargy, will arm themselves for the purpose of claiming the Rights of Man with that all-powerful voice which man cannot resist." Next came a deputation from the English and Irish residents in Paris, which assured the French deputies that a majority of the British people desired to copy their example, and that the old Governments would soon survive merely as a memory. The three addresses aroused immense enthusiasm, and a decree was passed for their printing and circulation.[112]

These ecstatic praises of the Convention sounded oddly, as that body had just been discussing a petition from several Parisians who had lately been imprisoned without knowing why or by whom. And the Belfast address of congratulation on the progress of religious liberty was followed by the complaints of two members of the Convention that they had been half drowned at Chartres for a profession of atheism.[113] But undoubtedly these addresses by British Radicals caused exultation on both sides of the Channel. Frenchmen believed that our people were about to overthrow the Cabinet;[114] while the visitors returned home to trumpet forth the triumphs of Reason and the doom of Tyranny.

Certainly the action of the French Convention seemed to assume the speedy advent of a Jacobinical millennium. To the eye of faith the headlong flight of the Austrians from Belgium opened up boundless vistas of conquest, or rather, of fraternization with liberated serfs. Consequently the month from 16th November to 15th December witnessed the issue of four defiantly propagandist decrees. That of 16th November enjoined on French generals the pursuit of the Austrians on to any territory where they might find refuge—obviously a threat to the German and Dutch States near at hand. On the same day the French deputies decreed freedom of navigation on the estuary of the River Scheldt within the Dutch territory, which that people had strictly controlled since the Treaty of Münster (1648). In this connection it is well to remember that the right of the Dutch to [Pg 72]exclude foreigners from that estuary had been recognized by France in five treaties signed with Great Britain since the Peace of Utrecht. Further, by the Anglo-Dutch alliance of the year 1788, we had covenanted to uphold the rights of the Dutch in this and other respects. Thus, the French Republic was taking upon itself to rescind a well-established right of the Dutch Republic.

There is, however, another side to this question. The law of Nature, as distinct from the law of nations, forbade the barring of a navigable river to the commerce of aliens; and in this particular case the exclusive privileges retained by the Dutch had almost strangled the trade of Antwerp. Visitors describe the desolate aspect of the quays and streets in a city which was clearly designed to be one of the great marts of the world. Of this gospel of Nature, as set forth by Rousseau, the French were the interpreters; but they would have done well to appeal to Holland and Great Britain to abrogate this odious privilege, adding also the assurance, formerly given by Dumouriez, that Belgium would never become French.

Unfortunately the disinterested character of the crusade for liberty was now belied by two additional decrees which created the worst possible impression. On 19th November the French Convention declared its resolve to "grant fraternity and assistance to all people who wish to recover their liberty," and further ordered its generals to give effect to this decree. Eight days later it rescinded the former resolution, that France would make no conquests, by ordering the incorporation of Savoy in the French Republic. The priest Grégoire was equal to the task of proving that this involved no contradiction of the former principle, because the Savoyards wished to join France and Nature herself had proclaimed the desirability of union. By the same patriotic logic France could rightfully absorb all parts of the Continent where Jacobins abounded and natural frontiers were lacking.

These decrees brought about an entirely new situation. The annexation of Savoy furnished a practical commentary on the airy proposals announced on 16th and 19th November; but these alone were sufficient to cause Pitt and Grenville the deepest concern. On the 27th the latter wrote to Auckland at The Hague in terms which show his conviction that France meant to revolutionize the Dutch Republic, and also, if possible, Great Britain. Respecting the decrees of the 16th and 19th he wrote:[Pg 73] "The whole is a concerted plan to drive us to extremities, with a view of producing an impression in the interior of the country."[115] That is, he believed the Convention to be set on forcing England either to declare war, or to give way disgracefully; and in either case the result would be an increase of seditious feeling in these islands. This continued to be his view. For on 4th December, after reading the seditious addresses of the English societies to the Convention, he wrote again to Auckland that the French evidently relied on the malcontents both in England and Holland to paralyse the Governments; and, he added, "This is above all others a reason for firmness in the present moment, and for resisting, while the power of resistance is yet in our hands. For the success of their unfounded claims would not only give rise to new pretensions, but would give them additional influence."[116] Pitt's views were the same, though he stated them more firmly and not as an alarmist. On 9th December he wrote to the Earl of Westmorland, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, that the gross disregard of treaties shown of late by France, her encouragement of the spirit of revolt in all lands, and her public reception of addresses from English societies, "full of treasonable sentiments," compelled the Government, though very reluctantly, to add to the armed forces. He added these words: "I am clear that the circumstances require vigour and decision both at home and abroad. And the spirit of the country seems within these last ten days to have taken so favourable a turn that I think we may look with great confidence to the event."[117] Thus Pitt and Grenville equally felt the need of firmness in resisting the French decrees, partly because of their aggressive and illegal nature, but also because surrender would inflate the spirits of British malcontents.

Current events served to strengthen this opinion. France had hitherto won all the points of the game by sheer audacity. Everywhere she had attacked, and everywhere she had found unexpected weakness. Custine's army had extorted a forced loan from Frankfurt. Dumouriez was threatening Aix-la-Chapelle on the east, and the Dutch on the north. The spirit which animated the French Foreign Office appears in the letter which Lebrun, its chief, wrote to Dumouriez on 22nd November: "To the glory of having freed the Belgian Catholics, I hope you will [Pg 74]join that of delivering their Batavian brothers from the yoke of the Stadholder."[118] There can be no doubt that the general laid his plans for that purpose, though he also sent pacific overtures to Auckland at The Hague.[119]

To crown the indignation of royalists, there came the tidings that on 3rd December the French Convention decreed the trial of Louis XVI for high treason against the nation. The news aroused furious resentment; but it is noteworthy that Pitt and Grenville rarely, if ever, referred to this event; and that, before it was known, they had declared the impossibility of avoiding a rupture with the French Government if it persisted in adhering to the November decrees. On this question the final court of appeal is the despatches and letters of our Ministers. An examination of them discloses the reasons for their firmness. On 13th November, when the evacuation of Brussels by the Austrians was known, Ministers assured the Dutch Government that they would oppose a French invasion of Holland. They charged Auckland to declare that His Majesty had "no hesitation as to the propriety of his assisting the Dutch Republic as circumstances might require, against any attempt on the part of any other Power to invade its dominions or to disturb its Government." This declaration was to be published in order to discourage the plots of the Dutch "Patriots," and to warn the French Government and its general of the danger of a hostile advance. Auckland replied on 16th November: "It is impossible to convey to Your Lordships an adequate sense of the impression made by this voluntary declaration of His Majesty's sentiments and intentions respecting the Republic on the occasion of the present crisis. The generosity of this measure, which in a few hours was generally known, and which to-morrow will be circulated on the Continent in the newspapers of the Republic, is acknowledged by everyone." The Prince of Orange at once wrote to thank the King for this proof of his friendship, and added the suggestion that the anchoring of a British squadron in the Downs would, more than anything else, tend to "hold in check our enemies."[120]

Pitt and Grenville did not comply with this last request; and [Pg 75]the British declaration itself came just two days too late to give pause to the National Convention, before it published the decree on the opening of the Scheldt. Possibly in the days of telegraphs the warning would have been flashed from The Hague to Paris in time. As it was, both Powers publicly committed themselves on the same day to opposite courses of action from which pride or conviction forbade them to recede. So narrow sometimes is the space that at first divides the paths leading towards peace and war.

The concern of Pitt and Grenville at the French conquest of Belgium appears in their instructions to Stratton, our chargé d'affaires at Vienna, to confer with the Austrian Chancellor, Cobenzl, on the threatening situation, setting forth the desire of George III to contribute to the tranquillity of all the States of Europe. In his reply of 22nd December Cobenzl declared that Austria and Prussia must have indemnities for their expenses in the war, the restoration of monarchy at Paris being another essential to a settlement.[121] These statements were most discouraging: the former pointed to a speedy partition of Poland; and the forcible restoration of the Bourbons was at this time wholly repugnant to the feelings of Pitt.

Meanwhile the prospect of war with France had become far more threatening. The decree of 16th November on the Scheldt, and that of 19th November on helping foreign malcontents, were a direct defiance to all neighbouring States, and especially to Great Britain and Holland. In the latter country the Patriots were, as in 1787, actively helped from Paris, and threatened the existence of the Orange régime, of which we were the guarantors. Moreover, the opening of the Scheldt was a serious blow to Dutch commerce. Sir James Harris, writing from The Hague in December 1784, when this very question brought Joseph II to the brink of war with Holland, quoted the declaration of the Grand Pensionary, that the Dutch ought to spend their last florin "rather than submit to so destructive and humiliating a measure as the opening of the Scheldt."[122] The effusive thanks of the Dutch when the Court of Versailles opposed the demand of Joseph II, shows that they looked on the control of that estuary as vital to their interests. This question was brought to an issue on 23rd November, when French [Pg 76]gunboats entered the Scheldt, and, despite the fire of the Dutch guardship, made their way up the river in order to assist in the reduction of the citadel of Antwerp. The senior captain of the gunboats announced that he did this by order of Dumouriez. On 8th December seven French ships sailed up to that city, the first since the Treaty of Münster.

The affair of the Scheldt was not the only cause of alarm. The Dutch authorities managed to get a copy of a secret letter (dated 20th November) from Dumouriez to Maulde, French envoy at The Hague, in which he assured him that he would do his best to keep him in that post (despite the ill will of the Paris Government); for he had much need of him for certain negotiations. He added these words: "I count on carrying liberty to the Batavians (Dutch) as I have done to the Belgians; also that the Revolution will take place in Holland so that things will return to the state they were in 1788." The Dutch Government gave a copy of this letter to Auckland, who forwarded it to Grenville on 23rd November. It reached Whitehall three days later. Curiously enough, Grenville did not hear of the French decree for the opening of the Scheldt until 26th November. But on that day he wrote to Auckland a despatch which shows his conviction that France meant to force us into war, and that the chief question for Great Britain and Holland now was—when should hostilities begin? Clearly, then, Grenville, and probably Pitt, regarded a rupture with France as unavoidable, unless she revoked the aggressive decrees. Nevertheless they decided to send a special envoy to Paris, and drew up rough drafts undated and addressed to some person unnamed, bidding him make careful inquiries into the state of affairs at that capital.

We cannot wonder that Pitt took a gloomy view of things; for on 24th November a "moderate" member of the French Convention proposed an addition to the decree of 19th November (offering help to malcontents in other States), so as to limit it to nations with which France was at war. This proposal—obviously designed to soothe the apprehensions of Pitt—displeased the "patriotic" majority, which disposed of it by carrying the "previous question." After this the decree of 19th November could no longer be treated as a meaningless effervescence of Gallic enthusiasm; and, when taken with the disloyal addresses presented by certain English clubs on 28th November, its reaffirmation produced the worst possible impression.

On the 29th, Nagel, the Dutch envoy in London, proffered a formal appeal for help, in addition to requests which he had made to Grenville a few days before. He further begged him to order the assembling of a squadron at the Downs, or at Gravesend, so as to assist the Dutch speedily, if need arose.[123] Meanwhile our allies (as usually happens with small States in presence of danger) sought to temporize; and herein, as also in the caution of Pitt and Grenville, lay the reason why war did not break out at once. No one can peruse the despatches of our Ministers without seeing that they considered war inevitable, unless the French retracted the obnoxious decrees. It is well to notice that at this time the question of the trial of Louis XVI had not come up for consideration. The dispute turned solely on the frontier rights of the Dutch, which Pitt and his colleagues believed to be violated by France, and which we were in honour bound to vindicate.

On 1st December, then, came the first of those precautionary measures which not seldom precipitate the conflict they are designed to avert. The Cabinet issued a royal proclamation, calling out part of the militia. Ministers took this step partly as a retort to the seditious addresses of English Radical clubs to the French Convention,[124] partly in order to repress tumults. There had been rioting in a few towns, and the reports from Scotland were alarming. On 22nd November Dundas, writing to Pitt from Melville Castle, N.B., stated that sedition had spread rapidly of late in Scotland, and he estimated that five regiments would be needed to hold down Dundee, Perth, and Montrose. He added that the clergy of the Established Church and their following were loyal, the others far otherwise.[125]

Still worse was the news from Ireland. Early in 1792 the Dublin Parliament repealed one or two of the most odious statutes against Roman Catholics; but later in the year contumeliously rejected their petition for the franchise. Consequently[Pg 78] the mass of Irishmen was ready to join the Society of United Irishmen, a formidable association founded in Ulster in 1791 by Wolfe Tone. This able young lawyer, fired with zeal for the French Revolution, conceived the statesmanlike notion of banding together both Presbyterians and Catholics in a national movement against the exclusive and dominant English caste. The conduct of the Dublin Parliament made his dream a reality. At once the ultra-Protestant traders of the North clasped hands with the Catholic gentry and peasants of the Centre and South. This unheard-of union was destined to lead Pitt on to a legislative experiment which will concern us later. Here we may notice that the clubs of Irish malcontents proceeded to act on a plan already mooted in the English societies, that of sending delegates to form a National Convention in Dublin. The aim was to constitute a body far more national than the corrupt Protestant clique that sat in Parliament, and, after overawing that body, to sunder the connection with England. The precedent set by the Ulster Volunteers in their meeting at Dungannon in 1782 warranted the hope of an even completer triumph than was then secured. The correspondence that passed between Pitt and the Lord-Lieutenant, Westmorland, reveals the concern which they felt at the news. Pitt advised the early meeting of the Dublin Parliament, the proposal of concessions sufficient to allay discontent, and a determined resistance to all attempts at intimidation. He also suggested the keeping a close watch on the importation of arms, and levying a Militia if it were practicable.[126] In reply Westmorland stated (1st December) that the manifesto of a meeting of United Irishmen in Dublin was most threatening, and that the "French mania" was spreading everywhere. He added: "Belfast is, as always, noisy and republican; but not above 200 or 300 Volunteers are there."[127] It seems probable that the embodying of the Militia in Great Britain was partly with the view of enabling a few regular regiments to proceed to Ireland.

While taking these precautionary measures, Pitt and Grenville adopted a tone far from unfriendly to the French envoy. Earlier in the autumn Grenville refused to see Chauvelin on the ground [Pg 79]that the French Government which sent him no longer existed. But after some pourparlers he consented to receive him on 29th November. With his usual hauteur he prepared to teach the ex-Marquis his place from the outset. He placed for him a stiff small chair; but the envoy quickly repelled the slight and vindicated the honour of the Republic by occupying the largest arm-chair available. After this preliminary skirmish things went more smoothly; but only the briefest summary of their conversation can be given here. Chauvelin assured Grenville of the desire of France to respect the neutrality of the Dutch, though they had fired on two French vessels entering the Scheldt. The opening of that river, he said, was a right decreed by Nature, and confirmed to France by the conquest of Brabant—a point which he pressed Grenville to concede. He then charged England with unfriendly conduct in other respects. In reply Grenville said that he welcomed this informal explanation, but he declined to give any assurance on the Scheldt affair. If (said he) France and England were not on good terms, it was not the fault of the latter Power, which had consistently remained neutral but declined to allow the rights of its Allies to be violated.[128]

Equally firm, though more affable, was the behaviour of Pitt in an interview of 2nd December with a Frenchman who was destined to become Foreign Minister under Napoleon. Maret, the future Duc de Bassano, at this time made a very informal début on the stage of diplomacy. Despite many statements to the contrary it is certain that he had no official position in England. He came here merely in order to look after the affairs of the Duke of Orleans, especially to bring back his daughter, who had for some time resided in Suffolk with Mme. de Genlis and "Pamela." Maret's own words to Miles are decisive on this point: "I was not a secret agent; I had no authority to treat, nor had I any mission; and in declaring this to Mr. Pitt and to you I said nothing but the truth."[129] With characteristic mendacity Lebrun afterwards informed the Convention that Maret was a secret agent and that Pitt had requested an interview with him. The interview came about owing to the exertions of William Smith, M.P., a well-intentioned Whig, who hoped much from an [Pg 80]informal conversation between Pitt and one of the head clerks of the French Foreign Office. Chauvelin viewed it with jealousy, it being his aim to represent Maret as an emissary to the British and Irish malcontents.[130] Pitt, when he granted the interview, cannot have known of this, or of the design of Lebrun ultimately to foist Maret into the place of Morgues at the French Embassy. Accordingly he welcomed Maret cordially. No tactical skirmish about chairs took place, and Maret afterwards declared that the great Minister behaved affably throughout, brightening his converse at times by a smile. As the personality of the two statesmen and the gravity of the crisis invest this interview with unique interest, Pitt's account of it, which is in the Pretyman MSS., must be given almost in full.

He [Maret] expressed his regret at the distant and suspicious terms on which England and France appeared to stand, his readiness to give me any éclaircissement he could, and his belief that the present French Government would be very glad if means could be found by private agents, with no official character, to set on foot a friendly explanation.

I told him that, if they were desirous of such an explanation, it seemed to me much to be wished under the critical circumstances; as we might by conversing freely learn whether it was possible to avoid those extremities which we should very much regret but which seemed from what we saw of the conduct and designs of France to be fast approaching; and I then mentioned to him distinctly that the resolution announced respecting the Scheldt was considered as proof of an intention to proceed to a rupture with Holland; that a rupture with Holland on this ground or any other injurious to their rights, must also lead to an immediate rupture with this country; and that altho' we should deeply regret the event and were really desirous of preserving, if possible, the neutrality to which we had hitherto adhered, we were fully determined, if the case arose, to give our utmost support to our ally.

His answer was that he hoped nothing of the sort would happen; that he believed there was no design of proceeding to hostilities against Holland; and that it was much the wish of the French Government to be on good terms with this country; that they wished to ménager l'Angleterre, and therefore to ménager l'Hollande; that these were the sentiments of M. le Brun when he left Paris about 3 weeks ago; that he believed them to be those of M. Dumouriez; and that, from the despatches of M. Chauvelin, which he had seen while here, he believed they continued to be those of the Conseil Exécutif; that he thought a confidential explanation on this subject very desirable; and would either [Pg 81]go to Paris or write to M. le Brun, to state what had passed in our conversation, and that he was persuaded they would be disposed to [send?] some other person here to enter privately into negotiations upon it. He afterwards dropped an idea that some difficulty might perhaps arise from the Conseil Exécutif feeling itself pressed by the weight of public opinion to propose to us to receive some person here in a formal character. To this I observed that the circumstances would by no means admit of any formal communication, and that they would certainly see the necessity of avoiding the difficulties which must arise from such a proposal, if they were sincere in wishing an explanation with a view to remove obstacles.

Towards the end of the conversation, on his repeating his belief that it would be the wish of the French Government to have such an explanation and to remove, if possible, the grounds of misunderstanding, I remarked to him that, if this was really desired, there was another point which must be attended to—that he must have seen the impression made here by the decree in France avowing a design of endeavouring to extend their principles of government by raising disturbances in other countries; that, while this was professed or attempted, and till we had full security on this point, no explanation could answer its purpose, and that such a conduct must be considered as an act of hostility to neutral nations. He answered that he knew the impression which this circumstance produced, and had seen the decree I mentioned with consternation; that he believed it passed only in a moment of fermentation and went beyond what was intended; that it could be meant only against nations at war, and was considered as one way of carrying on war against them; that he believed it was not conformable to the sentiments of the Conseil Exécutif, and that they might possibly find means to revise it. To this I said that, whatever were the sentiments of the Conseil Exécutif, the decree, as it stood, might justly be considered by any neutral nation as an act of hostility. He concluded by saying that he would immediately send to M. le Brun an account of what had passed, which he hoped might lead to happy consequences.

Maret prefaced his report of this interview by assuring Lebrun that Pitt was decidedly in favour of peace, and in fact dreaded war more than the Whig aristocrats; but, he added, Lord Hawkesbury and the majority of Ministers were for war—a somewhat doubtful statement. Maret's description of the interview is graphic but far from complete. He reported Pitt's gracious effort to minimize the difficulties of form arising from the lapse of official relations between France and England. But (he wrote) the Minister's brow darkened at the mention of the[Pg 82] names of Noël and Chauvelin; and he finally suggested that Maret should be the accredited French agent at London.[131]

Pitt's account does not name these personal details, and it lays more stress on the difficulties caused by the French decrees opening the Scheldt and offering help to malcontents. We must further remember that Maret's words of warning to his compatriots on the latter subject were suppressed in the version published at Paris, which therefore gave the impression that Pitt was not deeply moved by recent events. This suppressio veri partly accounts for the persistence of the French deputies in their resolves, which prevented the friendly explanations undoubtedly desired by Pitt and Maret.

Bad news also came in from The Hague, to the effect that the French were demanding a passage through the Dutch fortress of Maestricht. These tidings caused the worst impression. Grenville wrote in reply to Auckland on 4th December. "The conduct of the French in all their late proceedings appears to His Majesty's servants to indicate a fixed and settled design of hostility against this country and the [Dutch] Republic." Equally threatening were "their almost undisguised attempts now making to excite insurrection here and in Holland." Consequently His Majesty had decided to arm in self defence, and he hoped that the Dutch would firmly repel all attempts derogatory to their neutrality. The King (he added), while taking these precautionary measures, would not omit such steps as might lead to friendly explanations with France through the private agents of that Government; but no ambassador would be received.[132] Pitt and Grenville set little store by the soothing explanations of Dumouriez and his friend, Maulde, who had made overtures to Auckland which met with a guarded but not unfavourable response. On their renewal, Auckland received them coldly, remarking that the whole situation was changed by the late violent decrees of the French Convention. At that time, too, the friendly Maulde was recalled and replaced by Tainville, "a professed Jacobin with brutal manners and evident indiscretion,"[133] Thus faded away the last faint hopes in that quarter.

Equally sombre was the outlook at Paris. The pacific reports sent by Maret and Maulde from London and The Hague were before the French Ministers at their meeting on 5th December. They had also the benefit of a lucid and suggestive Mémoire sent by Talleyrand from London a week earlier, setting forth the desirability of a friendly understanding between the two free peoples, who, advancing hand in hand, might give liberty to backward peoples (especially Spanish America), and draw thence boundless benefits. It was the plan which Dumouriez and he had drawn up in the spring of that year. Probably the Executive Council took no notice of it; for certain papers found in the iron chest at the Tuileries cast doubts on the purity of Talleyrand's patriotism. Further, as Pache, Minister at War, hated Dumouriez, personal bias told strongly against the moderate proposals coming from London and The Hague. Nevertheless the Executive Council now decided to defer for the present the invasion of Holland, meanwhile chasing the Austrians beyond the Rhine, and fortifying Antwerp. The last step was declared not to infringe the principles of the Republic, "which oppose the spirit of conquest."

Obviously there was nothing to prevent the same liberal adaptation of these principles to Belgium as Grégoire had proposed for the welfare of the Savoyards. A few deputations of the liberated people, asking for union with France, would enable some equally skilful dialectician to discover that Belgium was naturally a part of the Republic. For the present, however, the Belgians sent a deputation to demand unconditional independence; and it taxed the ingenuity even of Barère, then President of the Convention, to waive aside that request, with airy phrases as to the alliance of the two peoples emanating from the hands of Nature herself (4th December).[134]

Pitt cannot have heard of the French Cabinet's decision of 5th December, but he must have read of the ambiguous treatment of the Belgians at the bar of the Convention the day previously. It had long been a maxim at Whitehall that the Pays Bas must never go to France. To prevent such a disaster England had poured forth blood and treasure for more than a century. Pitt's resolve two years before, to maintain Austrian authority in those provinces, had deeply offended Prussia. Now he [Pg 84]and Grenville turned to the Court of Vienna, and on 7th December made friendly overtures to Stadion, Austrian ambassador at London.[135] Thus, the French menace ended the long period of estrangement between Great Britain and Austria, though, as will duly appear, mutual confidence took root very slowly.

On 9th December Lebrun sent off an important despatch to Chauvelin. With respect to the decree of 19th November, it stated that France would never demean herself by assisting rioters, but would respond to the "general will" of a people that desired to break its chains. Further, France could not reverse her decision concerning the Scheldt. She would not revolutionize Holland, but she expected Great Britain not to intervene in support of a constitution which the Dutch considered "vicious and destructive of their interests." Finally, the French Government could not recognize the guarantees of the Dutch constitution undertaken by England and Prussia in 1788.[136] On the same day Lebrun sent a message to Maret, who was still in London, adverting in ironical terms to the military preparations in England, at which the French would feel no alarm, and insinuating that the doctrines of liberty were making rapid progress there. As to negotiations, the only bases on which they could proceed were the recognition of the Republic, and the refusal of the French Cabinet to treat except by a fully accredited envoy.

On receipt of this letter on the 14th, Maret at once showed it to Miles, who urged him to request an immediate interview with the Prime Minister. This was accorded, and at 8 p.m. of that day, Maret met Pitt again. I have found no account of this interview. All we know is that it was short and depressing. Maret had to impart the unwelcome news that all the communications to the French Government must pass through the hands of Chauvelin—a personal triumph for that envoy. Pitt on his side declined to give any answer on the subject of Maret's communication, or on that of receiving Chauvelin.[137] We can imagine that under that stiff and cold exterior the Prime Minister concealed deep agitation; for the determination of the French rigidly to adhere to their decrees, to force Chauvelin upon the British Government, and to require the recognition of the French Republic, meant war.

CHAPTER IV

La guerre aux rois était la conséquence naturelle du procès fait au roi de France; la propagande conquérante devait être liée au régicide.—Sorel.

The opening of Parliament on 13th December 1792 took place amidst circumstances that were depressing to friends of peace. Affairs were gyrating in a vicious circle. Diplomacy, as we have seen, had come to a deadlock; but more threatening even than the dispute between Pitt and Lebrun were the rising passions of the two peoples. The republican ferment at Paris had worked all the more strongly since 20th November, the date of the discovery of the iron chest containing proofs of the anti-national intrigues of the King and Queen. Hence the decree (3rd December) for the trial of Louis XVI at the bar of the Convention with its inevitable sequel, the heating of royalist passion in all neighbouring lands. It is one of the many mishaps of the revolutionary movement that its enthusiasm finally aroused an opposite enthusiasm, its fury begot fury, and thus set in a series of cyclones which scarcely spent their force even at Waterloo.

An essentially philosophic movement at the outset, the French Revolution was now guided by demagogues and adventurers, whose only hope of keeping erect lay in constant and convulsive efforts forwards. Worst symptom of all, its armies already bade fair to play the part of the Praetorians of the later Roman Empire. Nothing is more singular at this time than the fear of the troops. Amidst the distress prevalent at Paris, much apprehension was felt at the return of the armies of Custine and Dumouriez. In part, of course, this uneasiness arose from a suspicion that these men, especially the latter, might take up the rôle of Monk and save Louis. But a member of the French Convention assured Miles that the disbanding of those tumultuary forces would bring on a social crisis.

War, [he wrote on 9th December] is to a certain extent inevitable, not so much for the purpose of opening the Scheldt, for that is rather a pretext in order to animate the people and preserve their enthusiasm, but to get rid of 300,000 armed vagabonds, who can never be allowed to return without evident risk to the Convention and Executive Council.... It is her opinion [Madame Roland's] and mine that we cannot make peace with the Emperor without danger to the Republic, and that it would be hazardous to recall an army, flushed with victory and impatient to gather fresh laurels, into the heart of a country whose commerce and manufactures have lost their activity, and which would leave the disbanded multitude without resources or employment.[138]

These words are noteworthy; for they show that prudential or party motives led some at least of the Girondins, formerly friends of England, to desire an extension of the war.

In England, too, the war spirit was rising. The traditional loyalty of the land had been strengthened by the tactful behaviour of George III since Pitt's accession to power. These feelings warmed to a steady glow at the time of the King's illness in 1788–9; and now the trial of Louis XVI, albeit on grounds which Britons could not understand, seemed an act of contemptible cruelty. To bring Louis from Versailles to Paris, to load him with indignities at the Tuileries, to stop his despairing bolt for freedom, to compass his downfall, to attack him in his palace and massacre his defenders, to depose him, and now to try him for his life for the crime of helping on his would-be deliverers, appeared to a nation of sportsmen a series of odious outrages on the laws of fair play. The action of certain Radical Clubs in sending addresses of congratulation to the National Convention also aroused deep disgust; and (as Bland Burges wrote to Auckland on 18th December) Loyal Associations sprang up on all sides.[139] A typical address was sent by the Dover Association to Pitt, as Lord Warden, on 19th December, asking for permission to take arms in defence of King and Constitution against invaders from without or levellers within.[140] The example was widely followed; and thus, as usually happens in this land, the puny preparations of Government were helped on by the eager exertions of the people.

The revulsion in public opinion early in December was so [Pg 87]marked as to impress even Chauvelin. He warned Lebrun that within a month the English had so changed as scarcely to be recognizable; but he added: "Pitt seems to have killed public opinion in England." A conversation which Sheridan had with him on 7th December ought to have disproved this fable. The Whig orator sternly reprobated the French decree of 19th November, offering aid to malcontents, and stated that the Opposition desired peace with France, but not if she attacked Holland. Nine-tenths of the people would resent any attempt to interfere with England or her Allies.

This patriotic utterance of Sheridan expressed the feelings of a large part of the Whig Opposition. Parliament on 13th December showed marked approval of the King's Speech, which, while affirming his peaceful intentions, asserted his resolve to strengthen the forces. Lansdowne and Stanhope struck a few jarring notes; but in the Commons the Opposition was almost paralysed by a split between the New and Old Whigs. At a meeting of the party, held on 11th December at Burlington House, the majority decided to support the Government. Indeed Parliament would probably have presented a united front but for the action of Lansdowne, Stanhope, and Fox. Much depended on the conduct of the great orator at this crisis. A warning uttered by him to French Republicans might have had the most salutary effect. Unfortunately his conduct was such as to impair the unity of English sentiment and thereby to encourage the delusions of the men in power at Paris. In the meeting on 11th December he asserted that there was no fear of a revolt (in which he was doubtless correct) and that the calling out of the Militia was a mere trick, which he would strenuously oppose. He admitted that we must support the Dutch if they were attacked, and disapproved of the French decree respecting the Scheldt, but strongly deprecated war on that account. On the 12th he threw caution to the winds, and stated with an oath that there was no address that Pitt could frame on which he would not propose an amendment and divide the House.[141] This is party spirit run mad; but it was in that spirit that Fox went to the House on the 13th.

There he made one of his finest flights of oratory. None of his speeches excels it in beauty of diction and matchless energy [Pg 88]of thought. Most forcible was the passage in which he derided the ministerial maxim that the canon of English laws and liberties was complete; that we might thenceforth stand still, and call upon a wondering world to admire it as a model of human perfection. Even more biting were his taunts at Ministers for seeking to stamp out the discontent which their injustice and violence had created.

You have gone upon the principles of slavery in all your proceedings; you neglect in your conduct the foundation of all legitimate government, the rights of the people; and, setting up this bugbear, you spread a panic for the very purpose of sanctifying this infringement, while again the very infringement engenders the evil which you dread. One extreme naturally leads to another. Those who dread republicanism fly for shelter to the Crown. Those who desire Reform and are calumniated are driven by despair to republicanism. And this is the evil that I dread. These are the extremes into which these violent agitations hurry the people, to the decrease of that middle order of men who shudder as much at republicanism on the one hand as they do at despotism on the other.[142]

He then taunted Ministers with abandoning Poland and not opposing the coalition of Austria and Prussia, and asserted that the Cabinet refused to negotiate with France because she was a Republic, and her Ministers had not been anointed with the holy oil of Rheims. The weakest part of the speech was that which dealt with the existing crisis. For of what use was it to point out where Ministers had gone astray months and years before, if he did not now mark out for them a practicable course? In truth, though the prince of debaters, Fox lacked self-restraint, balance of judgement, and practical sagacity. The sole important issue was the encouraging of the peace party at Paris, with a view to the revocation of the aggressive decrees of the Convention. In private, Fox had admitted that they were wholly indefensible; and yet, in order to snatch an oratorical triumph, he fired off a diatribe which could not but stiffen the necks of the French Jacobins. At such a crisis the true statesman merges the partisan in the patriot and says not a word to weaken his own Government and hearten its opponents. To this height of self-denial Fox rarely rose; and the judgement alike of his fellows and of posterity has pronounced this speech a masterpiece of partisan invective and of political fatuity.

For how was it possible to recognize the French Republic until it had withdrawn its threats to existing Governments? Pitt had reason to believe that a firm protest against the aggressive decrees of November was the only means of averting an overturn of international law. He took the proper means of protesting against them, and his protest was disregarded. In such a case, to recognize a revolutionary Government which had just proclaimed its sympathy with malcontents and its resolve to dictate terms to our Dutch allies, would have been a sign of weakness. There was but one chance of peace, namely, that Parliament should give so overwhelming a support to Pitt and Grenville as to convince the tyros at Paris that they had to do, not with a clique, but a nation. This unanimity the efforts of Fox impaired. Some of his friends voted with him from a sense of personal regard; but the greater number passed over to the Government or did not vote. Consequently the Foxites mustered 50 votes against 290.

Equally inopportune was his motion of 15th December, for sending a Minister to Paris to treat with that Government. His knowledge of all that went on at the French Embassy in Portman Square was so exact (witness his repetition publicly on the 13th of the very words of one of Lebrun's despatches to Chauvelin),[143] that he must have known of the informal communications between Pitt and Maret, and of the arrival on the 14th of despatches from Paris, which negatived the requests of the Prime Minister. Doubtless it was this last circumstance which curtailed and weakened Fox's second speech. Grey, Erskine, and Whitbread vigorously supported the motion; but there was a general feeling that the despatch of an ambassador to Paris would be a weak acquiescence in the French claims. The motion was therefore negatived. Pitt was not present at these first debates, not having yet been re-elected by the University of Cambridge after his recent acceptance of the Lord Wardenship of the Cinque Ports. The defence of the Government therefore devolved chiefly upon Dundas, Windham, and Burke—a significant conjunction of names. On 16th December Burke for the first time took his seat on the Treasury Bench.

A national party might now have been formed but for the inaction of the Duke of Portland. During the meetings at his [Pg 90]mansion, Burlington House, he evinced strong disapproval of the views of Fox; and, as official leader of the Whigs, he had it in his power to bring nearly the whole of the party over to the Government side. From this course, which would have placed country above party, the Duke shrank; and his followers were left to sort themselves at will. There was a general expectation that Portland would publicly declare against Fox; but friendship or timidity held him tongue-tied. Malmesbury sought to waken him from his "trance," but in vain.[144] He lay under "the wand of the magician" (Pitt's phrase for the witchery that Fox exerted), even when so staunch a Whig as Sir Gilbert Elliot saw that the wizard's enchantments were working infinite mischief.[145]

Owing to the wrong-headedness of Fox and the timidity of Portland, Pitt's triumph in the Commons was not decisive enough to tear the veil away from the eyes of the French Jacobins. Nothing short of unanimity at Westminster could have worked that miracle. Surely not even that novice in diplomacy, Lebrun, would have threatened to appeal from the British Government to the British nation, had he not believed the Government to be without support.

This delusion appears in the memorable decree of 15th December. The French Convention thereby asserts its resolve to revolutionize all countries where its armies are or shall come. It will recognize no institutions alien to the principles of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity. All feudal dues, customs, and privileges are to be annulled, and the liberated people will meet in primary assemblies to organize an Administration. Arrangements will be made for defraying the expenses of the liberating army, and for maintaining it while it remains.[146] Finally France declares that she will treat as an enemy the people which refuses to accept Liberty and Equality, and tolerates its prince and privileged castes. The decree is at once followed by a proclamation drawn up for the benefit of the subject peoples whom it may concern. Finally, the Convention decides that the course of rivers must everywhere be free, and directs its generals to enforce that principle with respect to the Scheldt.

In view of this stern reiteration of the right to overturn all [Pg 91]Governments that conflict with revolutionary principles, it is impossible to consider the decree of 19th November, offering assistance to malcontent peoples, as a meaningless display of emotion. Subsequent events threw a sinister light on it. The annexation of Savoy on 27th November was not a convincing proof of altruism; and the refusal of the Executive Council, on 8th and 9th December, to reconsider its decision on the Scheldt, marked a firm resolve to carry out French policy in the Pays Bas, even if it led to war with England. Now there came, as a damning corollary, the decree of 15th December, which flung defiance at all Governments of the old type. Like Mohammed, Lebrun stood forth with the "Contrat Social" in one hand, the sword in the other, and bade the world take its choice.

For England there could be no doubt. Pitt and Grenville had decided that the only chance of peace lay in offering a firm front to every act of aggression. In this they had general support. Fox might choose to distort facts by declaring that Ministers were about to plunge the country into war on a matter of form [147] (the refusal to treat officially with the French Republic); but everyone knew that the first aggressive action was that of France, directed against the Anglo-Dutch alliance. The firmness of Ministers gained them support in unexpected quarters. On 20th December, when they asked for a vote for 25,000 seamen, including 5,000 marines, Sheridan heartily declared that he would have supported a vote for 40,000 seamen if that number had been deemed necessary. He also made a suggestion that the British Parliament or people should appeal to the generous instincts of Frenchmen to spare the life of Louis XVI. The proposal came somewhat oddly in a debate for increasing our forces against France; and it brought up Burke in one of his most acrid moods. Such an appeal, he said, was futile, for Louis was in the custody of assassins who were both accusers and judges: his death was inevitable. Sheridan and Fox heartily reprobated this recklessly vindictive language.

Pitt then pointed out that on 17th August George III had expressed an earnest desire for the safety of Louis and the Royal Family of France in terms which were then read out. The same was the desire of every Briton; and the sentiments now expressed in that House would be heard and noted at Paris. If any more [Pg 92]formal measure were to be adopted, he suggested the entering a protest in the Journals of the House; but any public representation, he said, must be couched in terms of indignation which must tend to defeat its own object. With this method of procedure Fox and Sheridan expressed their entire concurrence.[148] It is therefore a malicious falsehood to say that Pitt opposed their suggestion.[149] Burke certainly did so, and in the worst possible taste; but Pitt carried it out so far as was deemed desirable. If Sheridan and Fox wished for a public appeal, it was for them to set it on foot.

I must here notice the vague and misleading statements in Godoy's Memoirs (written a generation later) that Spain made strenuous efforts to save the life of Louis XVI and opened "an unlimited credit" at Paris with the view of bribing members of the Convention to secure his acquittal. Further, that he, Godoy, secretly approached Pitt in order to secure his financial aid, which that statesman obstinately refused.[150] The story does not hang well together; for if Spain had already opened an unlimited credit at Paris, why did she want pecuniary help from Pitt? Further, the opening of unlimited credit, presumably with a Parisian bank, did not consort well with the secret methods which were essential to the success of the plan.

In order to probe this matter to the bottom, I have examined the British Foreign Office archives relating to Spain for the months of December and January. They are detailed and apparently complete. F. J. Jackson, our chargé d'affaires at Madrid, wrote to Lord Grenville every three or four days, as the relations of the two States had been far from cordial owing to friction caused by the cession of Nootka Sound, Captain Vancouver having been employed to settle the boundaries and fix a neutral zone between the two Empires. Grenville also wrote three times to Jackson to express his apprehension that the timidity and poverty of Spain would cause her to yield to the French Republic in the matter of some demonstrations on the frontier. But there is no word implying that Spain requested help from England, either pecuniary or diplomatic, in order to [Pg 93]save Louis. Early in January Charles IV made such an appeal to the French Convention, but it was treated with contemptuous indifference. At that time the Courts of London and Madrid were beginning to draw closer together in order to withstand the demands of France; but nothing passed between them officially respecting the saving of Louis. Now, where the life of a King was at stake, any communication must have been official, and if it were made through the Spanish ambassador in London, Grenville would certainly have referred to it in his despatches to Madrid.[151] We may therefore dismiss Godoy's story as a cruel and baseless slander, due to the spiteful desire of a discredited politician to drag down a great name nearer to his own level.

It is also worth noting that Malouet, who was then in close touch with Grenville on San Domingo affairs, does not mention in his Memoirs any attempt to involve the Cabinet in a scheme for bribing the Convention—an action which the French exiles in England and Holland were perfectly able to carry out themselves had they been so minded. The only document bearing on this question is a Memorial drawn up on 7th December by Malouet, Lally-Tollendal, and Gillier, stating their horror at the King's trial, and their belief that his life might be spared if George III and the British Government issued a Declaration stating their lively interest in Louis XVI and his family, their resolve for ever to refuse an asylum to all regicides, and to cut off all supplies of food from France if the crime were committed.[152] The Memorial was probably presented to Lord Grenville; but its inutility, or danger, in the proud and exacting mood then prevalent at Paris, is obvious. The confidential reports sent by "M. S." from Paris to Lord Grenville do not refer to any such overture to the Cabinet.[153]

Lastly, there is the curious fact that the ex-abbé Noël, one of Chauvelin's "advisers," came to Miles late on 18th December, and affected much concern at the prospect of the execution of Louis. He then suggested that Pitt should confer with a M. Talon, residing in Sloane Street, who had immense resources and stood well with all parties in France, in order to devise some means for saving the life of that monarch. When Miles asked Noël how Pitt was to assist in this laudable project, no answer was forthcoming. We must commend Noël's prudence; for he [Pg 94]had already stated that Talon was under impeachment in France. How a man accused of treason could help his King, save by secretly using some of his immense resources to bribe the deputies, is no more apparent to us than it was to Miles. In fact he detected a snare in this effort to associate Pitt with a wealthy French exile in what must evidently be merely an affair of bribery. He therefore declined to bring the matter before Pitt, whereupon Noël betrayed signs of satisfaction at finding that the Minister really was neutral on French internal affairs.[154] This little episode should open the eyes of detractors of Pitt to the extraordinary difficulty of his position. Of one thing we may be certain. The readiest way of assuring the doom of the hapless monarch was to take up some one of the silly or guileful schemes then mooted for pressing the British Government to take sides in the trial. Pitt's rigorous neutrality was the best means of helping the advocates of Louis in their uphill fight with the hostile Convention.

Reverting to events at Westminster, we note that Ministers, on 21st December, introduced into the Upper House an Aliens Bill for subjecting to supervision the many thousands of foreigners who had flocked to these shores. The debates on this measure showed some approach to unanimity, though Lansdowne and Lauderdale in the Lords, and Fox in the Commons opposed it as a breach of the hospitable traditions of this land. On the 28th Burke spoke in its support with his usual passion, flinging down a Birmingham dagger as a sign of the French [Pg 95]fraternity now introduced into these happy islands.[155] After a few alterations in committee, the Bill passed on the last day of the year.

Meanwhile, on 18th December, Lebrun had sent to the Convention a report on the negotiations, which was not adapted to soften the passions of the time, being merely a piece of parliamentary declamation; but, as declamation rather than reason held sway at Paris, some of its phrases must be quoted. After citing with approval passages from the recent speech of Fox, Lebrun referred to the eager interest taken by the British nation in the triumphs of the French arms. "But," he continued, "these glorious events have a quite contrary effect upon the English Minister. In a moment, the dread and jealousy of our victories, the entreaties of cowardly rebels [the French émigrés], the vile intrigues of hostile Courts, and the secret suspicions that the numerous addresses from all parts of England excited, determined him to more decisive military preparations and to an immediate assembling of Parliament." Lebrun then accused Pitt of seeking to stir up public opinion against France, and of exciting, "by the most corrupt means, distrusts, doubts, and disorders." A still more extraordinary charge followed, namely, that Pitt and Grenville, while refusing to acknowledge the French diplomatic agents, had "requested to see them confidentially, to hold communications with them, and to grant them secret conferences."[156] Lebrun then referred in contemptuous terms to the British naval preparations, and stated that he had firmly maintained the decree respecting the Scheldt. He then affirmed the reasonableness of the decree of 19th November; and scouted the notion that France harboured designs against Holland. In answer to this last he had said in effect: "That it was much to be wished that the British Ministry had never meddled more with the internal government of that Republic than we ourselves wish to meddle." Finally, if these disputes led to a rupture, "the war will be only the war of the British Minister against us; and we will not fail to make a solemn appeal to the English nation." ... "In short, we will leave it to the English nation to judge between us, and the issue of this contest may lead to consequences which he [Pitt] did not expect."

In the sordid annals of party strife this report of Lebrun holds a high place. In order to furbish up the dulled prestige of the Gironde he sought to excite national animosity, and to revive the former hatred of the name of Pitt. What could be more criminal than to sneer at the smallness of England's naval preparations? What more false than to charge Pitt and Grenville with secretly begging for interviews with agents whom outwardly they scorned? It is by acts like these that nations are set by the ears; and generally they are at one another's throats before the lie can be exposed. Lebrun's report was received with loud applause. No one questioned the accuracy of its details; and these blind followers of a blind guide unanimously voted that it should be printed and widely circulated. On 20th December Lebrun sent a copy of it to Chauvelin, along with instructions which lost none of their emphasis in the note drawn up at Portman Square. He forwarded another copy of the report to Noël, with this significant explanation: "This document will keep you in touch with the ideas of this country and will show you that I scarcely have this affair in my hands any longer."[157]

This admission is illuminating. The trial of Louis XVI had, as the men of the Mountain foresaw, placed the Girondin Ministry and its followers in a most embarrassing position. Many of them inclined to mercy or to compromises which found little favour with the populace. Accordingly, the procedure at the trial, as also the final verdict, turned largely on the desperate efforts of the Jacobins to discredit their rivals, who sought by all means to keep their foothold in the revolutionary torrent. One of the most obvious devices was to represent the Executive Council as the champion of ultra-democratic ideas as against envious and reactionary England. If this notion gained currency, Lebrun and his colleagues might hope still to ride on the crest of the wave.

Historical students will remember another occasion when a tottering Ministry sought to keep pace with public opinion at Paris. The Duc de Gramont on 12th July 1870 instructed the French ambassador, Benedetti, to insist on obtaining from King William of Prussia an immediate answer to a demand that was certain to arouse angry feelings; and he sent to Benedetti the [Pg 97]explanation that public opinion was outflanking the Ministry, and that "the effervescence of spirits is such that we do not know whether we shall succeed in mastering it." Thus, twice within eighty years France was hurried towards the brink of the precipice because her Foreign Minister could not control an effervescence of spirits which he himself had helped to excite.

Lebrun's missives of 20th December bore fruit seven days later in Chauvelin's despatch to Grenville. As this document has often been printed, only a brief summary need be given here. The French envoy insisted that the conduct of France towards England had throughout been correct and conciliatory; but the Executive Council had long observed with concern the unfriendliness of the British Ministers, and now pressed its envoy to demand definitely whether they held the position of a neutral or an enemy. The only possible cause of enmity could be a misinterpretation of the decree of 19th November, which obviously applied merely to peoples that demanded the fraternal aid of Frenchmen. As France wished to respect the independence of England and her allies, she would not attack the Dutch. The opening of the Scheldt, however, was a question decided irrevocably by reason and justice, besides being a matter of small moment; and the British Ministers could not venture to make it a cause of war. If they did, they would not be supported by the British people. Chauvelin then demanded an official reply, and expressed the hope that the British Cabinet would not engage in a war for which it alone would be responsible and to which the people would not accord its support.[158]

What Pitt and Grenville thought of Chauvelin's last effort on behalf of peace will best appear in Grenville's despatch of 28th December to Auckland at The Hague:

The tone and language of Chauvelin's note of the 27th appear calculated to accelerate a rupture, and the same conclusion seems to follow from the circumstance of M. Maret's having informed Mr. Pitt that it was not intended by the Conseil Exécutif to charge any private agent with any commission of the nature which he had himself suggested in his first conference. I have some reason to believe that it is now intended to bring forward immediately in Holland the same question of receiving formal and official communication from the Conseil Exécutif. I trust that the answer will be conformable to opinions entertained here; [Pg 98]and, with the view of avoiding as far as possible, any difference, however slight, in the expression of our sentiments, I shall lose no time in sending to Your Excellency the copy of the answer to M. Chauvelin when it is settled.

I cannot conclude this dispatch without again urging Your Excellency to press in the strongest manner possible upon the Dutch Ministers the necessity of immediately bringing forward their whole force. It is evident that the present intentions of France are those of aggression. Whichever of the Allies is first attacked, there can be no doubt under the present circumstances, but that they must make common cause in order to render the calamity of war short, if it is unavoidable. And if the state of the preparations of the Republic is found inadequate to the emergency, the attack will certainly be first made there where least resistance is expected. Every circumstance therefore, of interest and dignity require [sic] that no exertion of which the Republic can be made capable, should be spared at such a moment as the present.[159]

Evidently Grenville looked on Chauvelin's note as an ultimatum; and it is noteworthy that Pitt on 28th December refused to see Chauvelin. Our Dutch Allies, however, were by no means ready. The separate Admiralties of the Dutch Provinces had not enough men to equip, still less to man, their ships; and almost their only defence lay in a British squadron which set sail for Flushing on or about 29th December.[160]

For the present, then, Pitt and Grenville contented themselves with sending a stiff rejoinder to Chauvelin's note. Grenville reminded him that he had no official character in this country since the fall of the French monarchy, and that the sinister meaning of the decree of 19th November, as shown in the public reception given at Paris to the promoters of sedition in this country, was in no wise cleared away by his recent declaration, which still claimed the right to encourage disloyalty. With regard to the Scheldt question, Grenville declared again that it was of the highest importance both in point of fact and of principle; of fact, because the action of France pre-supposed her sovereignty of the Low Countries; of principle, because, if passed over, it would give her the right to abrogate treaties at her will. The desire of England to preserve strict neutrality in French affairs was universally acknowledged, and he (Chauvelin) had not urged a single circumstance in disproof of it. But, England (continued Grenville) "will never see with indifference that [Pg 99]France shall make herself, either directly or indirectly, sovereign of the Low Countries, or general arbitress of the rights and liberties of Europe. If France is really desirous of maintaining friendship and peace with England, she must show herself disposed to renounce her views of aggression and aggrandisement, and to confine herself within her own territory, without insulting other Governments, without disturbing their tranquillity, without violating their rights."[161]

This stern rebuke to the flippant claim of the French Ministers to settle the affairs of neighbouring States in accord with their own principles has often been ascribed to Pitt himself. This is doubtful. I can find no proof that he intervened directly in the affairs of the Foreign Office after the accession of Grenville, as he had done in the days of the Duke of Leeds. Perhaps the austere personality of Grenville forbade any intervention; or it may be that the two cousins were in so complete an agreement on principles that Pitt left all details to the Foreign Minister. Certain it is that he himself remained almost passive at this time; and all the acts were the acts of Grenville. It was well known that the two men were in close touch. "I consider his lordship the same as Mr. Pitt," wrote Miles to Aust.[162]

More important is the question—What were the aims of the British Government for the settlement of Europe? Fortunately, we are able to answer this without a shadow of doubt. For on 29th December Grenville sent off a despatch to Whitworth at St. Petersburg referring to an effusive offer of alliance from Catharine II. Through Vorontzoff, her envoy at London, she expressed her admiration of the generous conduct of George III, and her earnest desire to help him in restoring order to Europe by means of a concert of the Powers, which might be formed at London. At the same time she found means to instruct her partisans in the British Parliament to relax their efforts against the Ministry.[163] Pitt and Grenville were not dazzled by these proposals. The latter generously declared to Auckland that he did not believe the Opposition to be influenced by unpatriotic motives; and he doubted the sincerity of Catharine's offer.[164] Nevertheless, in view of the imminence of a French attack on Holland, Grenville decided to encourage the Czarina to form a league of the [Pg 100]Powers; but the instructions which he sent on 29th December to Whitworth set forth aims very different from hers. He suggested that the Powers not yet at war should invite the French people to accept the following terms:

The withdrawing of their arms within the limits of the French territory: the abandoning their conquests; the rescinding any acts injurious to the sovereignty or rights of any other nations; and the giving, in some public and unequivocal manner, a pledge of their intention no longer to foment troubles and to excite disturbances against their own Governments. In return for these stipulations the different Powers of Europe who should be parties to this measure might engage to abandon all measures or views of hostility against France or interference in their internal affairs, and to maintain a correspondence or intercourse of amity with the existing powers in that country with whom such a treaty may be concluded. [If, however, France refuses to give these pledges, then the Powers will take] active measures to obtain the ends in view, and it may be considered whether, in such a case, they might not reasonably look to some indemnity for the expenses and hazards to which they would necessarily be exposed.[165]

From this remarkable pronouncement it appears that Pitt and Grenville harboured no hostility to the French Republic as such, provided that it acted on the principles which it professed up to the end of October 1792. The ensuing acts of aggression and propagandism they unflinchingly opposed, but in the hope that the combined remonstrances of all the Powers would induce the French leaders to withdraw their untenable claims. Above all, the British Cabinet did not refuse eventually to recognize the new state of things at Paris, a point of view very far removed from the flaming royalism of Catharine II and Burke. Whether a concert of the Powers could have been formed on these moderate terms is very doubtful. What is certain is that Pitt and Grenville saw in it the chief hope of peace, and that they did not desire to force royalty on reluctant France. For them the war, if it came, was not a war of opinion—Monarchy versus Republic. It was a struggle to preserve the Balance of Power, which in all ages our statesmen had seen to be incompatible with the sovereignty of France in the Low Countries. That danger averted, they were content to let France settle her own affairs, if she behaved with the like tolerance towards her neighbours.

Unhappily, these pacific and enlightened views were not accompanied by conciliatory manners. It was the bane of Pitt, and still more of Grenville, that their innate reserve often cooled their friends and heated their opponents.[166] In the case of so vain and touchy a man as Chauvelin a little affability would have gone a long way; and this was especially desirable, as he had enough support at Paris to thwart the attempt to replace him by some envoy less disliked at St. James's. Nevertheless, they persisted in their resolve not to recognize him officially; and the Executive Council made it a point of honour to force him on the British Court. Personal questions therefore told against a peaceful settlement. Even at the end of the year 1792 it was not wholly impossible, provided that the questions in dispute were treated with open-mindedness and a desire to understand the point of view of the opponent.

Undoubtedly it was for the French Government to take the first steps towards reconciliation by retracting or toning down the decrees of 16th and 19th November and 15th December, which had brought about the crisis. Further, the Convention ought to have seen through and thwarted the attempt of Lebrun to regain popularity by insulting Pitt in the report of 18th December. Had that body been less intent on the party manœuvres centring in the trial of Louis XVI, it would assuredly not have furthered the insidious designs of that Minister. It might have offered to recall Chauvelin, and to substitute Maret, a man known to be a persona grata to Pitt. Finally, in view of the large concourse of Frenchmen now in London, reckoned at 15,000, the Executive Council would have done well to say nothing about the passing of the Aliens Bill, obviously a precautionary measure called for by the emergency.[167]

The French Ministers took exactly the contrary course. On 30th December they decided that Chauvelin should demand the withdrawal of that measure, as contrary to the treaty of 1786; failing this, France would declare that compact at an end. They also began to prepare for an invasion of England, on a plan which came before them on 28th December; and on the last day of the year, Monge, Minister for the Navy, issued a circular letter to Friends of Liberty and Equality in the seaports. It contained passages to the following effect:

The English Government is arming, and the King of Spain, encouraged by this, is preparing to attack us. These two tyrannical Powers, after persecuting the patriots on their own territories, think no doubt that they will be able to influence the judgment to be pronounced on the traitor, Louis. They hope to frighten us; but no! a people which has made itself free, a people which has driven out of the bosom of France, and as far as the distant borders of the Rhine, the terrible army of the Prussians and Austrians—the people of France will not suffer laws to be dictated to them by any tyrant. The King and his Parliament mean to make war upon us. Will the English republicans suffer it? Already these free men show their discontent and the repugnance which they have to bear arms against their brothers, the French. Well! We will fly to their succour. We will make a descent in the island. We will lodge there 50,000 caps of Liberty. We will plant there the sacred tree, and we will stretch out our arms to our republican brethren. The tyranny of their Government will soon be destroyed.

What did the famous mathematician think of this effusion in the heyday of the Empire, when he became Count of Pelusium with a Westphalian estate bringing in 200,000 francs a year? A collection of the frank confessions of the ci-devant Jacobins would form an entertaining volume.

Not the least piquant of them would be the criticisms of a Breton captain, Kersaint, on the bellicose speech which he launched at the Convention on 1st January 1793. Admitting that Pitt really wanted peace, while Fox only desired to abase his rival, he averred that the Prime Minister would try to arrest France in her rapid career of land conquest either by a naval war or by an armed mediation. War, said Kersaint, must result, were it only from the perplexities of Pitt and the hatred of George III for the French Republic. France, then, must threaten to free the Scottish and Irish nations which England had so long oppressed. The Republic could appeal with telling effect to the English sailors not to fight against the champions of the Rights of Man. Further, France need not fear the British Empire; for it is vulnerable in every sea, on all the continental markets, while France stands four-square, rooted in her fertile soil. Let them, then, attack the sources of British wealth which are easily assailable. "The credit of England rests upon fictitious wealth, the real riches of that people are scattered everywhere.... Asia, Portugal and Spain are the best markets for English products.... We must attack Lisbon and the Brazils, and carry an[Pg 103] auxiliary army to Tippoo Sultan." As for Spain (continued Kersaint) she could be paralysed by the revolutionizing of Spanish America—the suggestion of Miranda to Dumouriez. In fact, Frenchmen need not fear war with all Governments. Open enmity was better than neutrality. This war would "regulate the destiny of nations and found the liberty of the world." Accordingly he proposed to offer to England either war or an alliance; to equip thirty sail of the line and twenty-four frigates; and to form a Committee of General Defence. The Convention assented to this last and referred the other questions to it.

Thus opened the terrible year, 1793. The circular letter of Monge and the speech of Kersaint furnished the weather-gauge for the future. In them we detect the mental exaltation, the boundless daring, the overwrought conviction of their neighbours' weakness, which were to carry Frenchmen up to bewildering heights of glory and overwhelm them in final disaster. We behold in awful perspective the conquest of Holland, Italy, and Central Europe, the Irish Rebellion, the Egyptian Expedition, the war on British commerce, culminating in the Continental System, with its ensuing campaigns in Spain and Russia, and the downfall of Napoleon. All this and more can be seen dimly, as in a crystal globe, in that fateful phrase of Kersaint—"The credit of England rests upon fictitious wealth."

Turning to the last details that preceded the declaration of war, we notice that on 7th January Chauvelin, acting on the order of Lebrun, sent in a sharp protest against the Aliens Bill as an infraction of Pitt's Treaty of Commerce of 1786. On one count Chauvelin certainly had a right to complain; for, strange to say, the Act was put in operation against Talleyrand, nominally his adviser, and the champion of the Anglo-French entente. The ex-Bishop of Autun penned an eloquent protest, which apparently had some effect, for he was not expelled until March 1794.[168] Far more incisive was Chauvelin's complaint. We can imagine his feelings when Grenville curtly declined to receive it.[169] At the same time Grenville refused to discuss or explain the stoppage of certain cargoes of grain destined for French ports. [Pg 104]His private correspondence with Auckland shows that this measure was due to the fear that the French would store the corn for the use of the army that was threatening Holland. That motive of course could not be disclosed to Chauvelin; and Grenville declined to explain it at all until the resolutions arrived at in Paris were clearly set forth.

On Sunday, 13th January, Chauvelin received from Lebrun a long despatch, drawn up in less provoking terms than the last. He sought an informal interview with Grenville, which was immediately granted. Grenville's hitherto unpublished account of the interview may be quoted in full, as it enables us to see the nuances of the situation:

Jan. 13, 1793.[170]

M. Chauvelin as soon as he came into my room began by stating that he was desirous of explaining that all his steps subsequent to the date of my letter of Dec. 31 had been taken in consequence of positive instructions from the Conseil Exécutif, given before they had received that letter. That they had seen in that letter one thing which had been satisfactory to them, notwithstanding the other things of which they might complain—this was the assurance which enabled them to reject the idea entertained by some persons in France of its being the intention of the Government here to declare war at all events. Under this assurance they had authorized him to give to their answer a form which was not liable to the exceptions which had before been taken. He then gave me the despatch from M. Le Brun. When I had read it I told him only that the circumstances were too critical for me to say anything as to its contents except to refer him to the answer which I should be [sic] to give to it.

He then said that there was one other point which he was desirous of mentioning. That one of the difficulties of the present situation of the two Countries was the want of a proper channel of communication. That he himself, from having no access to the King's Ministers, was frequently unable to give accounts of their real views and intentions. That he was therefore to desire the permission to see me often sous la même forme that he had now come [sic].

I told him that this was a point on which I was unwilling to take upon myself personally to give him an answer; but that he should have one; and in order to avoid mistakes I repeated to him the phrase, that his request was to see me sous la même forme. He said "yes," and that this was conceived to be a means of arriving sooner at the object of his [Pg 105]being allowed to present to the King the lettres de créance with which he was charged. As he did not express this quite distinctly, I asked him again whether I understood him right; that his present request was only to communicate under the form in which he now came. He again assented to this, but in doing it threw out that he had almost had direct orders from the Conseil Exécutif to apply for permission to present his letters. He however expressly assented to my statement that the other was at present his only request.

Nothing else material passed, except justifications of himself from the imputation of treating on public business with some persons in this country with whom he had connections of private friendship and intercourse, and complaints of the manner in which he was treated in the newspapers. To neither of these points I said anything.[171]

It is not surprising that Grenville asked for time to consult his colleagues (probably also the King) before returning an answer to Lebrun's missive; for, though unobjectionable in form, it re-affirmed the French claims and justified all the proceedings of that Government. Lebrun accused the Pitt Cabinet of raising difficulties of form and of discovering hostile intentions where none existed. While repudiating the notion of annexing Belgium, he firmly adhered to the Scheldt decree. France, he declared, would respond to all appeals which emanated from the general will of a nation, and he even asserted that she could treat only with a Government which "is deemed the organ of the general will of the nation governed." If her efforts for peace failed, she would fight England with regret but without fear.[172]

In effect, then, this despatch held out no hope of a reconciliation. There came with it, however, a long and rambling letter from Maret to Miles, which was intended partly to threaten, partly to cajole the Ministry. In its more dulcet passages the hope was set forth that the Scheldt affair could be settled, and even that Chauvelin might be replaced by the estimable Barthélemy. Miles, highly elated, hurried to the Foreign Office on that momentous Sunday, 13th January, and found that a Cabinet [Pg 106]meeting was proceeding. Pitt came out and cordially received Maret's note. He returned to the Cabinet meeting (at which, strange to say, Burke was present) but came out again "furious, freighted with the bile of the whole Cabinet," and forbade Miles to have any dealings with the French Executive Council.[173]

How are we to explain this change from affability to anger? The impressionable Miles believed that in that hour Pitt capitulated to Burke and became a man of war. The reader who takes the trouble to compare Lebrun's note with that of Maret will probably come to another conclusion, namely, that the latter seems very like a device to throw the British Ministry off its guard. The terms of the two notes are widely divergent; and, in such a case, Pitt naturally accepted that of Lebrun and scouted that of Maret, as of a busybody or an intriguer. Grenville objected to this double-dealing;[174] and probably the presence of Burke at the Cabinet meeting sharpened the demand for its cessation.

Another explanation of Pitt's fury is possible. Grenville and he may have received news of the warlike preparations going on in the French seaports and on the Dutch borders. I have found no proof of this; but it is certain that by this time they must have had before them the inflammatory appeal of Monge to French and English Jacobins as well as the boastful tirade of Kersaint to the Convention. Having these proofs of the warlike ardour of the French and of their reliance on British reformers, how could Pitt and Grenville look on the philanthropic professions of Maret as anything but a snare, and Miles as his dupe? Miles had ever been officious. Clearly the time had come to stop his fussy advances to an unofficial agent, which Lebrun might once more ascribe to Pitt's secret fear of France.

It would be interesting to discover how far Pitt and Grenville were at this time aware of the secret designs of the French Executive Council. On this topic I have found no definite evidence. It is very unlikely that on 13th January they knew of the aggressive plans which the Executive Council had formed three days before. But it is certain that such plans were set on foot on 10th January. On that day the Executive Council drew up secret orders for Generals Dumouriez and Miranda. The former was then at Paris concerting plans for the next [Pg 107]campaign, not for the purpose of saving Louis XVI, as he afterwards stated. Whether he fanned the warlike ardour of the Executive Council will perhaps never be known. But undoubtedly on 10th January the Executive Council bade him order his lieutenant, Miranda, to prepare for the invasion of Dutch Flanders and Walcheren within twelve days. Furnaces were to be supplied to the French gun-vessels in the Scheldt so as to beat off the frigates, whether English or Dutch is not stated.[175]

Why did not Miranda carry out this plan? Merely because he had neither stores nor food [176]—a fact which justifies the British Government in placing an embargo on the corn intended for France. Undoubtedly if he had had supplies, Miranda would have seized the lands at the mouth of the Scheldt, and cut off the retreat of the Stadholder to his place of refuge, Walcheren. It will further be observed that these orders were given at Paris three days after the despatch of Lebrun's and Maret's notes to London. The design apparently was to amuse England until a deadly blow could be struck at the Dutch. Auckland, writing on the 11th at The Hague, expressed to Grenville the hope that war might be avoided, or, if that were impossible, that the rupture should be postponed until the Austrians and Prussians had re-crossed the Rhine. The preparations of the Dutch were going on with the usual slowness.[177] Evidently the French Government counted on their traditional inertia and on the malcontents in Great Britain and Ireland. The private letters of Maret, that soi-disant friend of peace, breathe full assurance of victory.[178]

Grenville of course sent no answer to the last missive of Maret; but to Lebrun he replied, on 18th January, that his explanations were wholly unsatisfactory, as they maintained the right of the Executive Council to annul treaties at will. Until satisfaction were granted for the aggressions on His Majesty's ally, he would continue to take all measures needful for their common safety. The terms of this reply were doubtless due to the last news received from Paris. On 12th January the arch-intriguer, Brissot, had fired off at the Convention a warlike harangue in which he depicted the British Ministry as helpless [Pg 108]in the midst of a discontented populace and without a friend in the world. France could therefore easily arouse Ireland and Scotland to revolt, besides carrying liberty to India.[179] On the following day the Convention ordered the equipment of 30 sail-of-the-line and 20 frigates, and the construction of 25 sail-of-the-line and 20 frigates.

On his side Chauvelin saw the rupture to be imminent. In forwarding Grenville's despatch to Lebrun on the 19th he described his situation in London as intolerable, and added that no alternative but war was left. His assistant, Reinhard, ended a letter of that day to Miles with the words "M. Chauvelin leaves." That resolve must have been strengthened by Grenville's haughty note of the 20th, stating that no special means could be taken to protect his couriers and that he must rank "among the general mass of foreigners resident in England." On the same day Grenville informed Sir James Murray, who had gone on a special mission to the Prussian headquarters, that war was likely to break out, as France "insists on terms entirely inconsistent with the Government of this country and His Majesty's dignity and honour." His Majesty is strenuously making preparations and hopes to concert plans with Prussia and Austria.[180]

Such was the state of affairs on 21st January, when Louis XVI laid his head on the block in the Place de la Révolution. The news of this tragedy reached London late in the afternoon of the 23rd; and the horror which it aroused led to a demand at the Haymarket that the farce should be put off. On the advice of the Cabinet George III now intervened. At a Court held on the morrow at the Queen's House (on the site of Buckingham Palace) an order was issued that Chauvelin, as the envoy deputed by Louis XVI, should leave the country on or before 1st February. But on or before 25th January, that is, before the news of this mandate can have reached Paris, Lebrun had decided to recall the French mission from London. On 25th January he wrote to Monsieur Greenville [sic] stating that, as his plenipotentiary, Chauvelin, had orders to return to Paris, Maret would proceed to London to look after the papers at the French Embassy. This statement merits attention; for it shows that Chauvelin's departure was hastened only a day [Pg 109]or two by the King's command;[181] and further it refutes the oft-repeated assertion that Maret came charged with offers of peace to which Pitt and Grenville paid no heed.

It will be well to examine this latter question somewhat closely. In order to understand the situation at Paris, we must remember that Dumouriez was at that time hesitating between an attack on Holland and a pacific mission to England. On 23rd January, while at Paris, he wrote two very significant letters, one to Miranda, the other to Auckland. In the former he states: "The Executive Council ... has thought of sending me as special ambassador to England to make that country decide definitely for peace or war. Consequently an order has been given for our ambassador, Chauvelin, to return. To-morrow they will send a secret agent [Maret], very well known to Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, to ask the two parties (that is to say the whole nation) for a safe-conduct for me and an assurance that I shall be welcome. As I have to ask for yes or no, like Cato at Carthage, this mission will not last more than eight days." Pending the reply to the first question (says Dumouriez) he will set out for Dunkirk, Bruges, and Antwerp. His second letter, of the same date, is to Auckland at The Hague, stating that he knows him to be desirous of peace, as he himself is. Can they not have an interview on the Dutch frontier, near Antwerp, where he will be on 30th January?[182]

Now it is clear from Grenville's and Auckland's correspondence that Ministers paid some heed to the offer of Dumouriez. Nothing came of it owing to the arrival of news of the French declaration of war; but the proposal was at least considered.[183] There is not a line to show that Pitt and Grenville took Maret's so-called "mission" at all seriously. For, in the first place, he had no powers, no authority to do anything more than collect the papers of the embassy. He himself gave out to Miles that he came on a "pacific mission," but he carefully refrained [Pg 110]from telling even him what it was.[184] His biographer, Ernouf, has invested his journey to London with some importance by declaring that on 22nd January he (Maret) drew up and sent off a "despatch" to Chauvelin, stating that the French Executive Council desired peace, and that he was coming as chargé d'affaires to the French Embassy in London. This missive (whether signed by Lebrun is not stated) met Chauvelin on his way from London to Dover; but it produced no change whatever in his plans. He proceeded on his way to Paris, passing Maret in the night near Abbeville. To assign much importance to his "despatch" is to overrate both his errand and his position at Paris. Maret was only one of the head clerks at the French Foreign Office and had no right to sign official despatches. If he really was charged by Lebrun to tender the olive-branch, why was not that despatch sent to London in a form and manner which would procure credence and have some effect? Again, if Maret came to restore peace, why did he not at once produce his powers? The question was infinitely important and undeniably urgent. Instead of taking decisive action, as any well-wisher of mankind must have done at so awful a crisis, he declined to enter into particulars, and, on the plea that Chauvelin was ordered to Paris (which he himself knew before he left that city) waited for further instructions—which never came. Finally he confessed to Miles that he came to prepare the way for Dumouriez and to discover whether that general would be assured of personal safety if he came to England.

Such must have been the thought of Miles, when he heard this singular admission. For what trust could be placed in Dumouriez, whose conquest of Belgium—the source of the present difficulties—had by no means sated his desire for its natural sequel, the conquest of Holland? That Maret had credentials of some kind may be admitted; for he showed them to Miles and claimed to be chargé d'affaires; but, as Miles found his powers to be "extremely limited,"[185] we may doubt whether they extended beyond the collection and transport of the archives of Portman Square. If he had any authority to treat with our Government, it is curious that he refrained from [Pg 111]doing so merely on the ground of Chauvelin's departure. "Apprehensive that this event might derange what had been agreed upon, he despatched a messenger with a letter to Lebrun stating that under the present circumstances, he should not think himself authorized to communicate with the British Ministers without fresh instructions."[186]

Notwithstanding the urgency of the case, he received not a line, not even a newspaper, from Paris during his stay in London. In fact, the soi-disant "chargé d'affaires" of France knew so little of the real state of affairs that he assured Miles of the desire of his countrymen to give up Nice, Mainz, Worms, the Rhineland, the Scheldt, and the Low Countries [187]—at the very time (31st January) when Danton carried unanimously a decree annexing the Low Countries to the French Republic.

The explanation of the silence of Maret and the ambiguous conduct of Dumouriez may be found in the Memoirs of the latter. He states that a proposal came up in the French Executive Council at Paris on 22nd January to send him to London; but it was negatived by three votes to two. Nevertheless, he arranged with the minority (Lebrun and Garat) that he should go to Antwerp and have pourparlers with Auckland preparatory to a mission to England, while Maret returned to London to pave the way for him.[188] The scheme was a private venture, proposed by Dumouriez, and favoured only by the minority of the Council. In such a case neither Dumouriez nor Maret could be invested with official functions; and it was only a last despairing effort for peace that led Maret to pose as a chargé d'affaires and write to Paris for "fresh instructions." This praiseworthy device did not altogether impose even on Miles, who clearly was puzzled by the air of mystery that his friend assumed.

In view of the facts now set forth, can we blame Pitt and Grenville for declining to treat with Maret? He brought with him no proof that he had any other function than that of taking over the archives of the French embassy. Grenville stated to Auckland that Maret's presence caused much dabbling in the funds, and that his presence was most undesirable if Dumouriez really intended to treat for peace. Pitt afterwards assured the [Pg 112]House of Commons that Maret had not made the smallest communication to Ministers.[189] Evidently they looked on him as an unofficial emissary, to which level Chauvelin had persistently endeavoured to degrade him.

Finally, on 4th February, Grenville ordered Maret to leave the country. By this time news had arrived from Paris that France had laid an embargo on British ships in her ports; and this portended more serious news. By that time the die was cast. On 31st January Danton carried the Convention with him in a fiery speech, crowned with that gigantic phrase—"Let us fling down to the Kings the head of a King as gage of battle"; then, in defiance of the well-known facts of the case, he urged the deputies to decree an act of political union with the Belgians, who were already one at heart with them. On the following day the Convention confirmed this aggressive action by unanimously decreeing war against Great Britain and Holland. By so doing the deputies of France merely endorsed the decision formed by the Executive Council on 10th January.

The outbreak of war between France and England is an event so fraught with momentous issues to Pitt, to the two Powers, and to the whole world, that I have striven to set forth as fully as possible every incident, every misunderstanding, every collision of interests or feelings, that brought it to pass. No episode in the development of the nations of Europe is so tragic as this. That two peoples should, within the space of nine months, abjure their friendly relations and furiously grapple in a life and death struggle over questions of secondary importance leads the dazed beholder at first to grope after the old Greek idea of ἄτη or Nemesis. In reality the case does not call for supernatural agency. The story is pitiably human, if the student will but master its complex details. It may be well to close our study with a few general observations, though they almost necessarily involve the risk of over-statement.

Firstly, the position of absolute neutrality which Pitt took up from the beginning of the troubles in France was extremely [Pg 113]difficult to maintain amidst the rising passions of the year 1792. The Franco-Austrian war soon led to a situation in which the future conduct of the neutral aroused far more suspicion, and scarcely less hatred, than that of the enemy himself. When brains reeled with rage against tyrants; when cheeks flushed at the thought of the woes of Marie Antoinette, correct neutrality seemed inhuman. In an age that vibrated to the appeals of Madame Roland and Burke, cold passivity aroused doubt or contempt. Yet it is certain that Pitt and Grenville clung to that position, even when its difficulties increased tenfold with the fall of the monarchy and the September massacres. Lebrun, on coming into office after the former of those events, was careful to inform his countrymen that the withdrawal of the British ambassador was not an unfriendly act, and that England was making no preparations for war. Later on he chose to represent Pitt's conduct as persistently unfriendly; but his earlier words prove the contrary.

Again, was it practicable (as Fox claimed) for Pitt to forbid Austria and Prussia to coalesce against France? Probably it was not possible, without bringing Russia and Sweden into the field on the royalist side. In the excited state of men's minds, an act so annoying as that of armed mediation would have widened the circle of war; and, as we have seen, it was the belief of Pitt and Grenville, in August–September 1792, that the continental war might probably end from the inability of the combatants to continue it. No one at that time foresaw the easy conquest of Savoy and the Low Countries by the French troops. In one of the few references to foreign affairs in Pitt's letters of the month following, we find him stating that if France conquers and keeps Savoy, a new situation will arise.[190] But he remained passive while the French drove the Sardinian troops from Savoy; and his whole conduct at this time moved Burke to indignation, if not despair. So late as 6th November Grenville expressed to Auckland his firm belief in the policy of strict neutrality.[191]

What was it, then, that blighted these hopes? The answer must be that the French victory of Jemappes (6th November) and the phenomenally easy conquest of the Austrian Netherlands speedily brought about a new and most threatening situation. [Pg 114]It has been usual to say, with Goethe, that Valmy was the birth of a new age. Far more truly may we say so of Jemappes and its immediate results. That decisive triumph and the welcome accorded by the liberated Belgians opened up vistas of beneficent triumph that set the brain of France in a whirl. Hence the decrees of 16th November–15th December, which tear to pieces the old diplomacy, and apply to astonished Europe the gospel of Rousseau. In place of musty treaties there will be Social Contracts; instead of States there will be nations that will speak straight to one another's heart. They do speak: English Radical Clubs speak to the heart of France, the Convention; and Grégoire, President of that body, makes answer that if the rulers of England threaten the delegates and their comrades, Frenchmen will cross the Straits and fly to their help—"Come, generous Britons," he cries, "let us all confederate for the welfare of Humanity."[192] In the new age, then, political life will be a series of tableaux from the gospel of Rousseau. To the true believer there can be no compromise. Relics of old-world customs, such as the closing of the Scheldt by the Dutch, must vanish. Here, as elsewhere, Nature will infallibly guide men aright.

It was the application of these principles to our ally, the Dutch Republic, which Pitt refused to accept, especially as their corollary made for the aggrandisement of France. In his eyes international law imposed stringent obligations, which no one State, or nation, had the right to revoke. Old world theories of life, when rudely assailed at Paris, moved their champions to an enthusiasm scarcely less keen than that of the Jacobins. Britons who fraternized with the new hierophants were counted traitors to their King. Moreover, by a most unfortunate coincidence, the British Government publicly announced its resolve to support the Dutch Republic on the very day when the French Convention passed the first of its subversive decrees. Thus, national pride came sharply into conflict. Neither side could give way without seeming to betray alike its principles and its honour.

Personal questions played a baneful part in embittering the feud. Pitt and Grenville shrouded themselves in their insular and innate austerity. They judged the English Radical clubs too harshly; they ascribed to those who congratulated the Convention[Pg 115] on 28th November treasonable aims which can scarcely have arisen in England when the addresses were drawn up. Apart from frothy republican talk, which should have been treated with quiet contempt, those congratulations contained no sign of consciousness that France was about to challenge us to conflict. We may admit that Frost and Barlow showed great tactlessness in presenting those addresses when friction between the two nations had already begun; for the incident, besides stiffening the necks of Frenchmen, gave the Reform movement an appearance of disloyalty to England which worked infinite harm. Nevertheless, on reviewing these questions, we see that Pitt treated the foolish ebullitions of youth as though they implied malice.

Surely, too, he, and still more Grenville, were unwise in placing Chauvelin under a political and social ban, which naturally led him to consort with the bitterest enemies of Government in order to annoy Ministers here and please his employers at Paris. A touchy and sensitive nature like Chauvelin's is usually open to the soothing influences of flattery. Grenville, however, drove him to open enmity, which finally wreaked its revenge;[193] for it was Chauvelin's report on the readiness of Britons to revolt which finally decided the Convention to declare war on 1st February. We may also inquire why the Court of St. James's did not make clear the course of conduct which it proposed to take in the future respecting France.[194] As outlined in the despatch of 29th December to Whitworth, it formed the basis of a practicable compromise. If it could be stated confidentially to Russia, Austria, and Prussia, why not to France? Probably the objections of George III to the faintest sign of recognition of the French Republic [195] account for the fact that these enlightened intentions remained, down to the year 1800, secret except to those Powers. But statesmen err when they bury their good intentions in the secrecy of archives and allow public opinion to sympathize with the enemy. Here was Pitt's most serious blunder. At the outset of the struggle, and throughout its [Pg 116]course, he scorned those tactful arts and melodramatic ways which win over waverers and inspire the fainthearted. Here he showed himself not a son of Chatham, but a Grenville. The results of this frigidity were disastrous. All Frenchmen and many Britons believed that he went out of his way to assail a peaceful Republic in order to crush liberty abroad and at home. History has exposed the falseness of the slander; but a statesman ought not to owe his vindication to research in archives. He needs whole-hearted support in the present more than justification by students.

In this respect Pitt showed less of worldly wisdom than the journalists and barristers who leaped to power at Paris. Their chief source of strength lay in skilful appeals to popular passion. In reality their case was untenable before any calm and judicial tribunal. But the France of that age was anything but calm and judicial. It lived on enthusiasm and sensation; and the Girondins and Jacobins fed it almost to repletion. Unfortunately Danton, the only man who combined strength with some insight into statecraft, was away in Belgium while the crisis developed; and the conduct of affairs rested mainly with Lebrun and his envoy Chauvelin. It is only fair to remember that they were thirty and twenty-seven years of age respectively, and had had just four months and eight months of official experience. In such a case pity must blend with censure. The frightful loss of experienced men and the giddy preference for new-comers were among the most fatal characteristics of the revolutionary movement. Needing natures that were able, yet self-restrained, bold, but cautiously bold, it now found as leaders calculating fanatics like Robespierre, headstrong orators and wire-pullers like the Girondin leaders, or lucky journalists like Lebrun. To play to the gallery was his first instinct; and the tottering fortunes of the Gironde made it almost a necessity. Hence his refusal and that of his colleagues to draw back a hair's breadth from the unjustifiable position which they had taken up. Behind them loomed the September massacres, fatal to two Foreign Ministers of France; before them shone the splendours of a liberating crusade. We can scarcely blame men so ardent, so hard pressed.

But there are some rules of the game which even the most irresponsible of Ministers must observe. Here both Chauvelin and Lebrun went fatally astray. Chauvelin's pique at the interview[Pg 117] which Pitt had with Maret on 2nd December led him flagrantly to misrepresent that incident, and Lebrun, as we have seen, reported it to the Convention in such a way as to impute to Pitt a discreditable and cowardly intrigue. This is the climax of malice. An envoy and a Minister who scatter such insinuations are the most reckless of firebrands. By this conduct both Lebrun and Chauvelin inflamed the passions of their countrymen. In truth, it was passion, not policy, that made the war. The charges which they brought against England were of secondary importance—her demand for the revocation of the decrees concerning the Scheldt and the encouragement offered to malcontents, together with her stoppage of corn ships lading for France, and her Aliens Bill. Such were the pretexts for the recall of Chauvelin, which, as we have seen, was decided at Paris before the Court of St. James's determined to dismiss him.

Another fact comes out clearly from a survey of the evidence given above, namely, that the execution of Louis XVI was in no sense the cause of the war. The question turned essentially on the conduct of France towards our Dutch Allies. Before Louis was put on his trial Pitt and Grenville had decided that the French must retract their aggressive decree against Holland, backed up as it was by a claim to support malcontents in any land. Failing this, war would have ensued, even if Louis had not been condemned to death. The tragedy of 21st January made no difference to the issue; for, as we have seen, the French Government by 10th January decided to push on its plans against the Dutch Republic. It is also impossible to attach any importance to the vague offers of Dumouriez and Maret, at which Lebrun connived probably so as to be able to say, without committing himself in the least, that he had done all he could for peace.

We may therefore conclude that the wealth and defencelessness of the Dutch Netherlands lured on the enthusiasts and intriguers of Paris to an enterprise the terrible results of which were unsuspected by them. Nothing is more remarkable than the full assurance of victory which breathes in the letters of Dumouriez, the despatches of Lebrun, and the speeches of the French deputies. Experienced statesmen were soon to stand aghast at the triumph of the Republican arms; but it fell short of the hopes of the French politicians. In this boundless self-confidence, sublime were it not so disastrous, is to be found the chief cause of war in 1793.

CHAPTER V

The war is not only unavoidable, but, under the circumstances of the case, absolutely necessary to the existence of Great Britain and Europe.—Pitt, Speech of 11th March, 1793.

In this chapter and the following, dealing with phases of the Great War, the narrative may seem at times to diverge far from the life of Pitt. But, in truth, his career now depended upon the issue of this gigantic strife. Therefore an account merely of his domestic concerns, of the debates at Westminster, or even of British and Irish affairs, would be a one-sided and superficial sketch. For in reality his destiny, together with that of Great Britain and of Europe at large, turned upon the events that unfolded themselves in Flanders and the Rhineland, at Toulon and Quiberon, in Hayti, Corsica, and Egypt. As these in their turn were potently influenced by the policy pursued at Paris, Vienna, Berlin, and Madrid, we must take a survey, wide but minute, sometimes to all appearance diffuse, yet in reality vitally related to the main theme. In order to simplify the narrative, I have sought to disentangle the strands of war policy and to follow them severally, connecting them, however, in the chapter entitled "Pitt as War Minister," which will sum up the results of these studies on the period 1793–8.

If proof be needed that Pitt entered upon the French war with regret, it may be found in the fact that on 5th February he and Grenville empowered Auckland to discuss the pacific overtures of Dumouriez. Grenville, it is true, saw in this move merely a device to gain time;[196] and we may detect in the British reply the sanguine nature of the Prime Minister. But his hopes ended on 8th February, when news arrived of the declaration of war by the French Convention against Great Britain and Holland.[Pg 119] Thereupon Pitt entered into the struggle without a shadow of doubt.[197] For him it was always a struggle to prevent the domination of the Netherlands by France; and we may note, as a sign of the continuity of that policy, that on it largely depended the rupture with Napoleon in 1803. Pitt summed up the object of the war in the word "security." In his view, as in that of his successor, Castlereagh, national security was wholly incompatible with the possession of Holland, or even the Belgic Provinces, by France.

In taking this practical view of the crisis Pitt differed sharply from George III and Burke. They looked on the struggle as one for the restoration of monarchy. The King on 9th February wrote to Grenville that he hoped the war would be the "means of restoring some degree of order to that unprincipled country," and Burke flung into an unquotable phrase his anger that the war should turn on the question of the Scheldt.[198] For the present the aggressive conduct of France welded together these two wings of the royalist party; but events were soon to reveal the fundamental difference of view. Indeed, it coloured all their opinions about the struggle. Wilberforce reports Pitt as saying that the war would be a short war, and certainly ended in one or two campaigns. "No, Sir," retorted Burke, "it will be a long war and a dangerous war, but it must be undertaken."[199] In his eyes the struggle was one between two irreconcilable principles—democracy and monarchy. Certainly the effort to force 25,000,000 Frenchmen back into the well-worn grooves was stupendous. Further, the great Irishman, with the idealism and chivalry which invest his nature with so much charm, urged the Allies to abjure all thought of indemnifying themselves at the expense of France, and to declare their sole aim to be the destruction of anarchy and the restoration of monarchy, a course of action which would range on their side a large number of Frenchmen and avert all risk of identifying that nation with the regicide Republic. The new letters of Burke suggest the advantages of [Pg 120]such a declaration and most justly censure the Allies for avowing their intention of taking land from France. The old man saw clearly that by so doing they banded Frenchmen together for a national effort. In the following pages the thoughtful reader will notice the disastrous effects of this blunder. Here Burke stood on strong ground; and Pitt was far from guiltless.

On the general question, however, whether the war should be for the restoration of monarchy or the attainment of security, Pitt's position is unassailable. For the mere suspicion that the Allies intended to impose Louis XVII on France condemned monarchy in the eyes of patriotic Frenchmen. Only amidst the exhaustion following on the Napoleonic wars could an intensely patriotic people accept a king at the sword's point. In the first glow of democratic ardour absolute destruction seemed preferable to so craven a surrender. While, then, we join Burke in censuring the procedure of the Allies, we must pronounce his advice fatal to the cause which he wished to commend. Further, his was a counsel of perfection to Austria, England, and the Dutch Republic. Deeming themselves attacked by France, they were determined to gain security from the reckless schemes of aggrandizing philanthropy now in favour at Paris; and, viewing the matter impartially, we must admit that they were right. The French having been the aggressors, the three States justly demanded security at that weak point in the European system, the Flemish border. Further, as Pitt limited his aims to the expulsion of the French from the Low Countries, he might reasonably hope for a speedy peace, the task which he set before himself being far smaller than that of forcing a king back on the French nation.[200] Ultimately the stiffneckedness of Napoleon brought all the Powers to the latter solution; but no one in 1793 could foresee the monstrous claim for "the natural frontiers"—the Rhine, Alps, Pyrenees, and Ocean—which prolonged the struggle to the year 1814.

Pitt's optimism will appear not unnatural, if we review the general situation early in the year 1793. The political atmosphere[Pg 121] was disturbed by two cyclones, one in the west, the other in the east, of Europe. That which centred in the French Revolution seemed to have reached its maximum intensity; and skilled observers augured from the execution of Louis XVI a relapse into savage but almost helpless anarchy. The recent successes of the French in the Rhineland and Brabant were rightly ascribed to the supineness of Prussia and Austria; and already the armies of Custine and Dumouriez were in sore straits. The plunder of the liberated peoples by the troops and by commissioners sent to carry out the decrees of fraternity had led to sharp reprisals all along the straggling front from Mainz to Bruges; and now Danton's decree of 31st January, annexing the Belgic provinces to France, exasperated that people.

Further, the men in power at Paris had as yet shown no organizing capacity. The administration of the War Department by "papa" Pache had been a masterpiece of imbecile knavery which infuriated Dumouriez and his half-starving troops. We have heard much of the blunders of British Ministers in this war; but even at their worst they never sank to the depths revealed in the correspondence of Dumouriez with Pache. In truth, both Powers began the war very badly; but France repaired her faults far more quickly, chiefly because the young democracy soon came to award the guillotine for incompetent conduct over which the nepotism of Whitehall spread a decent cloak. The discovery by the Jacobins of the law of the survival of the fittest served to array the military genius of France against Court favourites or the dull products of the system of seniority.

For the present, the misery of the French troops, the immense extent of their lines, and the singular ingratitude of the liberated peoples, promised a speedy reversal of the campaign of 1792. For the re-conquest of Belgium, the Allies now had ready on or near the Rhine 55,000 Austrians under the Duke of Coburg. On their right were 11,000 Prussians, under Frederick of Brunswick-Oels, and 13,000 Hanoverians, destined for Guelderland. These last were to be paid by the Maritime Powers. In reserve were 33,000 Prussians, under Hohenlohe-Kirchberg. For the invasion of Eastern France, Frederick William of Prussia marshalled, near Frankfurt, a force of 42,000 of his own troops, together with 14,000 other Germans. Further south was General Wurmser with 24,000 Austrians. And this was not all. The Holy Roman Empire promised a force of 120,000, whenever its Translucencies,[Pg 122] Bishops, Abbesses, and Knights could muster them; and further east there loomed the hosts of Russia. If these forces had been used straightforwardly, France must have been overborne.[201]

But the half of them were not used at all. Before the campaign opened, the eastern cyclone drew to itself the energies which ostensibly were directed against France. Just one week before the execution of Louis XVI, five Prussian columns crossed the borders of Poland. This act aroused a furious outcry, especially as Frederick William preluded it by a manifesto hypocritically dwelling upon the danger of allowing Jacobinism to take root in Poland. Fears of Prussian and Muscovite rapacity had induced Pitt and Grenville to seek disclaimers of partition at Berlin and St. Petersburg. Assurances enough were forthcoming. On 29th January 1793 Markoff sought to convince Whitworth that no partition was intended.[202] But in view of the entire passivity of Pitt on the Polish Question since his surrender to Catharine in 1791 the two Powers laid their plans for the act of robbery which took place a few months later.[203]

In this they had the rather doubtful acquiescence of Austria, provided that they furthered the Belgic-Bavarian exchange so long favoured at Vienna and resisted at Berlin. As we have seen, Pitt strongly opposed the exchange; but, early in February 1793, Grenville and he heard that the Emperor Francis II hoped to facilitate the transference of the Elector of Bavaria from Munich to Brussels by adding Lille and Valenciennes to his new dominion.[204] These tidings led them to adopt a decision which was largely to influence the course of the war. They resolved to commit Austria deeply to war with France by favouring the acquisition of Lille and Valenciennes by the Hapsburgs provided that they retained Belgium. This, however, was far from the wishes of that Court, which longed for parts of Alsace and Lorraine, and viewed Belgium merely as a sop to be flung to the Elector of Bavaria.[205]

Was there ever a more singular game of cross-purposes? Austria pursued the war with France chiefly with the object of gaining Bavaria and parts of Eastern France, Belgium (with Lille and Valenciennes) being allotted to the Elector uprooted at Munich. Prussia and Russia promised to abet this scheme as a set-off to their prospective plunder of Poland; but, obviously, after securing their booty in the summer of 1793, they had no interest in aggrandizing the House of Hapsburg. Further, England entered on the Flemish campaign with motives widely different from those of Austria. Pitt and Grenville sought to plant her more firmly at Brussels by girdling her with the fortresses of French Flanders; but she sought to recover Belgium only to fling it to the Elector. Finally neither Russia nor the German Powers cared an iota about the security of Holland. Their eyes were fixed on Warsaw or Munich. In truth, despite all their protestations as to the need of re-establishing the French monarchy, they were mainly bent on continuing the territorial scrambles of former years. The two aims were utterly incompatible.

In comparison with the motives prompting the actions of States, treaties are of secondary importance. Nevertheless (to finish with these wearisome details) we may note that on 25th March Grenville and Vorontzoff signed at Downing Street a treaty of alliance whereby Russia promised, firstly, to use her forces, along with those of England, against France; secondly, to prevent neutrals from helping France indirectly (a clause which involved the lapse of the principles of the Armed Neutrality), and thirdly, to grant to England a favourable commercial treaty.[206] Agreement with Prussia and Austria was more difficult, but at last, on 14th July and 30th August, compacts were signed with them for military aid in return for subsidies; and in the spring and summer of 1793 Grenville arranged similar conventions with Sardinia, Hesse-Cassel, Spain, and Naples. In this haphazard manner did these States agree to war against France. Their aims being as diverse as their methods were disjointed, the term "First Coalition" applied to this league is almost a misnomer.

Before describing the first campaign of the war it will be well briefly to survey the armed forces of the Crown and the organization for war. Firstly, we must remember that Pitt had devoted [Pg 124]great attention to the navy and to the fortification of Portsmouth and Plymouth. Despite the hostile vote of the House of Commons in 1785, he had succeeded in finding money enough to enable the Duke of Richmond to place those dockyard towns beyond reach of a coup de main; and to Pitt may be ascribed the unquestioned superiority of Britain at sea. Of the 113 sail-of-the-line then available, about 90 could soon be placed in commission, that is, so soon as the press-gang provided the larger part of the personnel.

The state of the army was far less satisfactory. Never, in all probability, since the ignominious times of Charles II, had it been in so weak a condition relatively to the Continental Powers. In the Budget of 1792 Pitt asked merely for 17,013 men as guards and garrisons in these islands; and he reduced even that scanty force to 13,701 men for the next six months. The regiments were in some cases little more than skeletons, but with a fairly full complement of officers. Nominally the army consisted of eighty-one battalions; but of these the West Indies claimed as many as nineteen. India needed nine; and on the whole only twenty-eight line regiments, together with the Guards and the cavalry, remained for the defence of Great Britain and Ireland. Efforts were made in December 1792 to bring in recruits, but with little effect. The defence of London, the dockyard towns, and other important posts, depended of course partly on the militia; 19,000 of that useful force were embodied early in February. But as the authorities forbore to compel men to serve in person, there was a rush for substitutes, which naturally told against recruiting for the Line.[207] Volunteer Associations were also relied on for local defence, and for overawing the malcontent or disorderly elements in the populace. The safety of the coasts and therefore of the capital rested primarily with the navy; and for England the war promised to be almost entirely a naval war.

Equally chaotic was the administration for war. Some time in February 1793 Dundas sent to Pitt a Memorandum respecting a new arrangement of offices which had been mooted in the Cabinet. The need of some change may be judged by the fact that Dundas was Secretary for Home Affairs (down to July 1794), First Commissioner for India (that is, virtually, Secretary for India), and Treasurer of the Navy, besides drawing glory and [Pg 125]profit from his airy duties of Groom of the Stole. What changes had been proposed does not appear; but Dundas expressed himself as follows: "First: That I should remain precisely as I am while the war continues, provided the arrangement takes place respecting the Groom of the Stole to Lord Chatham, together with all the consequent changes in other offices. This in my judgment is by much the best for the public service, and ought to supersede all other individual wishes." Failing this patriotic arrangement, Dundas requested that he should have the first claim for the Privy Seal for Scotland, provided that Lord Chatham did not take the Stole. He (Dundas) would give up the latter but retain his office at the India Board and the Navy. Or, thirdly, if he received the Privy Seal for Scotland, he would give up his other offices except that at the India Board. This last plan would involve a large reduction of income, but he preferred it to the others except the two previously named.[208]

Nevertheless no change of any importance took place. Dundas continued to be a portly pluralist, utterly unable to overtake the work of three important offices, with the conduct of the war often superadded; and Chatham remained at the Admiralty until the close of 1794, to the annoyance of all champions of efficiency. In the course of that year Pitt urged the need of strengthening both the Admiralty and War Departments; but, as we shall see, Dundas strongly objected to the creation of a Secretary of State for War, because his duties would overlap those of the other Departments, and important decisions must be formed by the Cabinet as a whole.[209] I shall touch on this question more fully in Chapter XII, but mention it here as a sign of the mental cloudiness which led British Ministers for the first eighteen months of the war to plod along with the most haphazard arrangements known even to that age. The contrast between the boyish irresponsibility of military management in England and the terrible concentration of power in the hands of Carnot at Paris, after July 1793, goes far to explain the disasters to the Union Jack after the first few months of the war.

The triumph of the French Republic and its transformation into a military Empire cannot be understood until we probe the inner weakness of the First Coalition and realize the unpreparedness of Great Britain. Moreover, as the Allies believed that [Pg 126]France would speedily succumb, the allocation of the spoil claimed their attention more than preparations for the hunt. The unexpected vigour of the French might have undeceived them. While Coburg was leisurely preparing to drive the levies of Dumouriez from the district between Verviers and Aix-la-Chapelle, the latter laid his plans for a dash into the almost unprotected Dutch Netherlands, where he hoped to find precious spoils and valuable munitions of war.[210] Breaking up therefore from Antwerp on 16th February, the Republicans quickly advanced towards the estuary known as the Hollandsdiep, while two other columns marched on Breda and Bergen-op-Zoom. As Dumouriez had foreseen, the torpor of the Stadholder's forces was as marked as the eagerness of the Dutch Patriots to welcome the invaders. Breda fell on 26th February; but he failed to cross the Hollandsdiep, for there the Sea Power intervened.

On 15th February Auckland begged that the Duke of York might be sent over with a few battalions. The Ministry at once answered the appeal. On 20th February seven battalions of the British Guards were paraded at Whitehall; the Duke of York announced that the first three would go to Holland, and asked for volunteers from the other four. The whole line stepped forward. Huddled on to small transports, the little force reached the Dutch estuaries in time to thwart the efforts of Dumouriez. Their arrival heartened the defenders of the Hollandsdiep, and held the French at bay. Meanwhile Coburg had bestirred himself, and, marching on Miranda's vanguard on the River Roer, threw it back in utter rout. Dumouriez, falling back hastily to succour his lieutenant, encountered the Austrian force at Neerwinden, where the unsteadiness of the Republican levies enabled Coburg and his brilliant lieutenant, the Archduke Charles, to win a decisive triumph (18th March). A great part of the French levies melted away. The Belgians rose against the retreating bands; and in a few days that land was lost to France. The failure of Dumouriez to turn his army against the Convention, and his flight to the Austrian outposts, need not be described here.[211] Suffice it to say that the northern frontier of France lay open to attack. [Pg 127]An advance in force in the month of April or May might have ended the war.

But, as we have seen, the Allies were too jealous and too distrustful to act with the necessary vigour. Austria refused to recognize the Prussian scheme for the Partition of Poland; and the North German Power retaliated by withholding its contingent from the support of Coburg.[212] That commander, finding himself duped by the Prussians, pressed the British and Dutch Governments to send him succour. To this he had some claim; for it was the Austrian victory at Neerwinden which saved Holland from the French; and the best method of protecting that land was to capture the northern fortresses of France. The Dutch army numbered on paper 50,000 men; 13,500 Hanoverians were marching towards Guelderland; 8,000 Hessians were entering the British service. In such a case it would have been disgraceful not to assist Coburg in completing his triumph. Thus, as often happens with British expeditions, the scope of the Duke of York's operations now greatly widened. His original instructions of 23rd February ordered him not to move more than twenty-four hours away from Helvoetsluys. On 19th March, as the danger lessened, the War Office gave him leave to advance, moving on the right of Coburg's army towards Antwerp and Ghent.[213]

The news of Neerwinden led George III to adopt even more vigorous measures. True, he disliked Coburg's pressing demand for help, seeing that no treaty of alliance was formed; but he permitted the forward move on Ghent, and formulated a still bolder scheme, that the British, Hanoverians, and Dutch should advance to besiege Dunkirk; for the capture of that place would enable a siege-train to be brought easily to the Austrians for the leaguer of Lille and Valenciennes.[214] To Grenville he expressed the hope that these measures would speedily end the war.[215]

The letter is important as showing the great influence of the [Pg 128]King on military affairs. It must be remembered that Pitt, Grenville, and Dundas (the three leading members of the Cabinet) had no knowledge of these questions, while that shadowy personage, Sir George Yonge, Secretary at War, had no seat in the Cabinet. A more unsatisfactory state of things cannot be conceived. It tended to subject questions of military policy to that influential trio, which in its turn was swayed by the will of the King. According to constitutional custom, the Cabinet was collectively responsible for questions of war policy; but it is difficult to say how far Ministers were individually responsible. Pitt and Grenville certainly influenced the decisions arrived at; Dundas drew up and signed the chief military despatches; but the wishes of George III had great weight.

In fact, questions of war policy turned largely on motives other than military. The resolve of the King and his Ministers to share in the invasion of France sprang not only from[Pg 129] feelings of military honour, but also from the exigencies of diplomacy. By the middle of March it was clear that Russia and Prussia would acquire unexpectedly extensive tracts of Polish land. Francis II vented his spleen at this rebuff on his Chancellor, Philip Cobenzl, who was virtually disgraced, while a clever but unprincipled schemer, Thugut, took his place.[216] Another unwelcome surprise was in store. The Emperor had hoped to find in the Belgic-Bavarian exchange "compensation" for the presumedly moderate gains of his rivals in Poland. But to this plan, as we have seen, George III and his Ministers stoutly demurred; and Grenville held out the prospect of the acquisition of Lille and Valenciennes in order once more to lay that disquieting spectre. As it also alarmed some of the German princes, whose help was needed against France, the Court of Vienna saw this vision fade away until Thugut hit upon the design of conquering Alsace, and finding there the means of effecting the longed-for exchange. Pitt and Grenville, however, clung to the policy of rooting Austria firmly at Brussels, with Lille and Valenciennes as her outworks, and this involved the effort of winning those two fortresses for the Hapsburgs. Thugut suggested that, if Austria could not secure French Flanders, she must find compensation elsewhere; and he declined to satisfy Eden's curiosity on this threatening word.[217] It therefore behoved us to strengthen Austria's stroke at French Flanders, especially as she now acquiesced in the British contention, that the Allies should neither interfere with the form of Government in France nor recognize the Comte de Provence as Regent.[218]

The British Government, however, moved forward its troops into Flanders reluctantly, firstly, because it wanted to use them in the West Indies,[219] and also discerned the preference of Frederick William for a Polish to a Flemish campaign. That monarch and his generals left the Austrians to bear the brunt of everything on the banks of the Rhine, and also in Brabant. His [Pg 130]manner of setting about the siege of Mainz was a masterpiece of politic delay, in which amorous dalliance played its part.[220] When complaints came from his Allies, he hotly retorted that Coburg had sent him only 5,000 troops from the northern army instead of the 15,000 that were promised. The Austrians replied with no less warmth that Coburg needed those 10,000 men because he had had no succour from the Prussian force supporting him. The result was that the Duke of York's corps was thrust into the part which the Prussian contingent ought to have taken. Accordingly Pitt and some of his colleagues deemed it preferable, now that Holland was safe, to withdraw the British troops with a view to a series of expeditions against the coasts and colonies of France. This problem called for a clear and decided solution. Nowhere do we so much lament the secrecy of Cabinet discussions as on these questions—should the meagre forces of Britain be used on maritime expeditions (their normal function in war), or form a petty division in the crusade of two great Military Powers; or, worst of all, should they be parcelled out in both kinds of warfare?

All that we know is that George III, on 29th March, strongly advocated the siege of Dunkirk, in the hope that the capture of that seaport would assist the Austrians in reducing the fortresses of French Flanders, and thus put an end to the war. On the other hand, the Duke of Richmond counselled the withdrawal of the British force for use against the coasts and colonies of France; and his two letters to Pitt, dated Goodwood, 3rd and 5th April, show that Pitt inclined to that opinion. The question was important in view of a forthcoming conference of the allied commanders and envoys at Antwerp. The letters are too long for quotation. In that of 3rd April the duke declares that Ministers must soon decide whether to persevere in Flanders or in maritime expeditions. "To attempt both is to do neither well." For himself, he would much prefer to attack Cherbourg, Brest, l'Orient, Rochefort, Nantes and Bordeaux; but he fears that the ardour of the Duke of York will lead him into an extensive campaign in Flanders.

In the second and longer letter, Richmond warns Pitt that, if he prefers to attack the ports and colonies of France (especially the West Indies), he ought at once to warn the envoys of the [Pg 131]Allies at Antwerp (who were about to discuss the plan of campaign), that we could not long afford succour to them, and trusted that after six weeks they could do without it, or, at least, would need it only to a very slight extent. If, he continues, Coburg and the Prussians demur to this, we must reply that England was at first no party to the war, and entered into it only for the defence of the Dutch; that participation in a continental campaign is so unpopular and ruinous, that we may be compelled to desist from it; that by means of naval expeditions we can help the common cause steadily and effectively; and that we are in no position to act on the Continent because "our army, cavalry and infantry, consists almost wholly of recruits, no part of which (men or horses) have been raised two months, and the greater part of which are at this moment only raising." Further, if we clearly warn the Allies of our resolve to withdraw our troops, they cannot complain of it. Pitt should therefore instruct Lord Auckland to give clear expression to these ideas. Coburg will then probably argue as to the extreme importance of clinching the successes already won, and will therefore urge the Duke of York to besiege Dunkirk, Graveline, and St. Omer, with a view to drawing him on finally towards Paris. But any such proceeding is to be resisted. The German Powers will dismember France; but we, having little military weight, shall probably gain next to nothing. Far more advantageous will be our action elsewhere, e.g., in the seizure of Cherbourg, Toulon, etc. Richmond ends by requesting of Pitt the favour of an interview.[221]

Either the interview did not take place, or the duke's arguments failed to lower the sanguine spirits of the Prime Minister to the level of prudence. All the letters of Pitt at that time exude confidence from every line. He hopes that Dumouriez will succeed in overthrowing the regicides at Paris. The backwardness of the Prussians in supporting Coburg does not deter him from ordering to Flanders all the available British and mercenary troops, in order to besiege Dunkirk, and otherwise help the Imperialists. As if this is not enough, on or just before 1st April he treats with Malouet, the French envoy from Hayti, for the transfer of that colony to the British Crown; he writes hopefully of finding a force large enough to make an attempt on the French coast; and a little later Grenville mentions[Pg 132] a Mediterranean campaign. The King, too, in referring to a recent offer of peace from Paris, writes that the bounds of "that dangerous and faithless nation" must be greatly circumscribed before such a proposal can be entertained.[222]

Thus France is to be attacked in Flanders, on the north or north-west coast, on the Mediterranean coast and in Corsica, as well as the West Indies, by an army which musters scarcely 20,000 effectives. In this confidence, which wells forth into five distinct schemes, is to be found the cause for the Jacobin triumphs which shattered the First Coalition.

Austria and Prussia were equally puffed up with unreal hopes. At the conference at Antwerp in the second week of April occurred the first of the many blunders which helped to rally Frenchmen around the tricolour. Coburg's promise, in a recent proclamation to Dumouriez and the French nation, that the Allies would not make conquests at the expense of France, was warmly disavowed at the first sitting. Accordingly, a few days later, Coburg issued a second proclamation, announcing the end of the armistice and omitting all reference to his disinterested views. The change of tone speedily convinced the French people of the imminence of schemes of partition. This it was, quite as much as Jacobin fanaticism, which banded Frenchmen enthusiastically in the defence of the Republic. Patriotism strengthened the enthusiasm for liberty, and nerved twenty-five million Frenchmen with a resolve to fling back the sacrilegious invaders.

About this time the French Government sent pacific proposals to London, which met with no very encouraging reception, Pitt and Grenville probably regarding them as a means of sowing discord among the Allies, of worming out their plans, or of gaining time for the French preparations. It is indeed difficult to believe that they had any other object. After the defection of Dumouriez and his Staff, France was in a desperate state, and her rulers naturally sought to gain a brief respite. Grenville therefore replied that if France really desired to end the war which she had forced upon England, definite proposals might be sent to the British headquarters in the Netherlands.[223] None was sent.

Meanwhile, the jealousies of the German Powers, the delay of [Pg 133]Austria in coming to terms with England, and the refusal of Coburg to define his plan of campaign, paralysed the actions of the Allies and saved France. As for the British force, it was too weak to act independently; and yet the pride of George III forbade its fusion in Coburg's army.[224] By the third week of April the Duke of York had with him 4,200 British infantry, 2,300 horsemen, besides 13,000 Hanoverians (clamorous for more pay), and 15,000 Dutch troops of poor quality and doubtful fidelity; 8,000 hired Hessians had not yet arrived.[225] Yet the King and his Ministers persisted in hoping for the conquest of French Flanders. The War Office despatch of 16th April specified as the chief aim of the war the re-conquest of the Low Countries by Austria, "with such extended and safe frontier as may secure the tranquillity and independence of Holland." But Pitt and his colleagues, far from concentrating on Flanders, continued to toy with expeditions to Brittany, Provence, Corsica, and the West Indies.

At first they pressed Coburg to consent to the deviation of the British force towards Dunkirk; and only on his urgent protest was that ex-centric move given up until Valenciennes should have fallen. The Austrian contention was undoubtedly right, as the British Government grudgingly admitted. The Duke of York's force therefore moved along with that of Coburg towards that fortress and showed great gallantry in compelling the French to evacuate the supporting camp of Famars (23rd May). Early in June the siege of Valenciennes began in earnest. A British officer described the defence of the French as "obstinate but not spirited." They made no sorties, and Custine's army of 40,000 men, which should have sought to raise the siege, did not attack, probably owing to the unsteadiness and apathy of his troops.[226] This lack of energy cost him his life; for on 10th July he was ordered back to Paris and soon went to the guillotine.

At that time the Jacobins were in a state of mind in which fury and despair struggled for the mastery. The outlook was as gloomy as before Valmy in September 1792. Bad news poured in from all sides. The Girondins, after the collapse of their power on 2nd June, appealed to the Departments, and two thirds of France seemed about to support them against the tyranny of the capital. Had not the Jacobins developed an organizing [Pg 134]power immeasurably superior to that of the moderates, the royalists, and the Allies, the rule of that desperate minority must speedily have been swept away. On 12th July the Parisian Government declared itself at war with the moderates, who now had the upper hand at Lyons and in neighbouring districts. On that same day Condé (a small fortress north of Valenciennes) opened its gates. On 22nd July Mainz surrendered to the King of Prussia; and six days later the Austrian and British standards were hoisted on the ramparts of Valenciennes.

This event raised to its climax the fury of the Jacobins; and on 9th August the Convention passed with acclamation a decree declaring Pitt to be an enemy of the human race. This singular manifestation of Gallic effervescence came about in the following way. The Committee of Public Safety having presented a report on the scarcity of corn and bread, the Convention was electrified by the doleful recital. In the ensuing debate stories are told of men disguised as women who practise insidious devices among the queues at the bakers' shops. At once the Convention decrees that men acting thus while in disguise shall be deemed worthy of death. A deputy named Garnier then suggests that as this is clearly a device of the infamous Pitt to increase disorder, it shall be declared lawful to murder him. Couthon, for once speaking the language of moderation, objects to this proposal as unworthy of the Republic, and moves that Pitt be declared an enemy of the human race. This is at once approved as worthy of the humanity and dignity of the Convention. The decree, then, was obviously a device for shelving the stupid and bloodthirsty motion of Garnier. The whole discussion may be compared with Pitt's declaration to the House of Commons on 12th February 1793, that the war, though undoubtedly provoked by France, would never be waged by England for motives of vengeance, but merely for the attainment of security.

Why at this time the name of Pitt should have driven the Parisian legislators half frantic is not easy to see. Up to that time the exploits of the small British force at Famars and Valenciennes had been no more than creditable; and it was not till the end of the month that the news of the entry of Admiral Hood's fleet into Toulon threw Paris into a frenzy. The decree of 9th August therefore has merely a psychological interest. When tyrants thundered at the gates of the Republic, France needed some names the mere sound of which sufficed to drive her sons to[Pg 135] arms. In 1792 it was Brunswick or Condé. When they ceased to be effective, the populace found others first in Coburg and finally in Pitt. Other names waxed and waned; but that of the son of Chatham stood fixed in a dull haze of hatred. Thus, by a singular irony, the very man who in 1786 had branded with folly those Englishmen who declared France to be our natural enemy, was now by her banned as the enemy of the human race. And such he remains for the great majority of Frenchmen. The hasty and fortuitous phrase of Couthon, which was designed to save him from the assassin's knife, will doubtless be the permanent catchword, irremovable by research and explanation.

The ravings of the French Convention would soon have ended, had not a great organizer now appeared. On 17th August 1793 Carnot entered the Committee of Public Safety, and thenceforth wielded its limitless powers for purposes of national defence. He was an officer of engineers, and had eagerly studied the principles of strategy. Throwing himself with ardour into the Revolution, he became a member of the National Assembly, and now was charged with the supervision of the War Department. At the War Committee he had the help of officers scarcely less able. Among them Mallet du Pan, in an interesting survey of French administrators, names D'Arçon as largely contributing to the French triumphs at Dunkirk and Maubeuge. He calls him a soul on fire and full of resource.[227] But the brain and will of this Committee was Carnot. His application to work for some twelve or fourteen hours a day, his hold on masses of details, and his burning patriotism, enabled him to inflame, control, and energize Frenchmen until they became a nation in arms. Moreover, Carnot had the invaluable gift of selecting the best commanders. True, the Frenchman was not hampered by a monarch who regarded the army as his own, nor by clogging claims of seniority. The "organizer of victory" had before him a clear field and no favour.

The most urgent danger for the Republic soon proved to be not in Flanders, but in Brittany and la Vendée. There la petite noblesse and the peasantry still lived on friendly terms. They were alike shocked by the expulsion of the orthodox priests and the murder of the King. Summoned by the Republic to arms in the spring of 1793, they rushed to arms against her. In la Vendée, [Pg 136]the densely wooded district south of the lower Loire, everything favoured the defence. The hardy peasants were ably led by that born leader of men, the chivalrous Marquis de Larochejaquelein, who had inspired the men of his neighbourhood with the words: "If I advance, follow me; if I retreat, slay me; if I fall, avenge me." With him was his cousin, Lescure, not less brave, but of a cooler and more calculating temper. The ardently Catholic peasantry of the west furnished as leaders a carter, Cathelineau, of rare ability and generosity of character, and Stofflet, a gamekeeper, of stern and vindictive stamp. Nerved by fanatical hatred against the atheists and regicides of Paris, these levies of the west proved more than a match for all the National Guards, whole columns of whom they lured into the depths of the Bocage and cut down to the last man. As Victor Hugo has finely said: "It was a war of the town against the forest." At first the forest-dwellers threatened to overrun the towns. On 11th June they took Saumur, a town on the Loire, after a desperate fight, and sought to open communication with the coast and the British fleet by seizing Nantes. This attempt, however, failed; and it is generally admitted that they erred in not marching on Paris after their first successes. After gaining a sure base of operations, they should have strained every nerve in order to strike at the heart. And if distance and lack of supplies and equipment shortened their reach, they might at least have carried the war into the rich central provinces, on which the capital subsisted.

But the mistake of these poor peasants was venial when compared with those of the Allies. On the capture of Mainz, Condé, and Valenciennes, the Prussian, Austrian, and British commanders did not enforce an unconditional surrender, but offered to allow the garrisons to march out with the honours of war on condition of not serving against them for a year. A better example of shirking present problems at the cost of enhanced difficulties in the future cannot be imagined. By this improvident lenity the Allies enabled the regicides to hurl fully 25,000 trained troops against the royalists of the West and deal them terrible blows. In September and October the Republicans gained considerable successes, especially at Cholet. Soon the Vendéan War became little more than a guerilla strife, which Pitt fed by means of arms and stores, but not in the energetic manner desired by Burke and Windham.

These ardent royalists constantly pressed him to help the men[Pg 137] of Poitou and Brittany, but had to deplore the wearisome delays which then clogged all military and naval operations. Most bitterly did Burke write to Windham, early in November 1793, that Ministers were so eager in seeking to win indemnities from France that they had hardened the national resistance of that nation, and meanwhile had not sent a single shipload of stores to the brave men of Poitou. Of course it was less easy than Burke imagined to get stores across a sea not yet fully commanded by the British fleet, and through inlets and harbours closely watched by the enemy. But the inaction of a force entrusted to the Earl of Moira for the support of the French royalists is certainly discreditable to him and to Ministers. Among them the Duke of Richmond, Master of Ordnance, distinguished himself by his incapacity and his ridiculous orders. Another obvious misfit was Lord Chatham at the Admiralty. But how can we explain the inactivity of four regiments in the Channel Islands all the summer? Surely they could have seized St. Malo or the Quiberon Peninsula.[228] Such a diversion would have been highly effective. For the Bretons and Vendéans, when supplied with arms, could have marched eastwards and roused the royalists of Normandy, Maine, and Touraine. With so potent a foe near to Paris, must not the regicides have been overborne by Coburg in Flanders? Everything tends to show that the Republicans feared the royalists of the West more than the Austrians in the North. But, as will appear in a later chapter, Pitt and Dundas decided to throw their strength into the West Indies. On 26th November 1793, Sir John Jervis sailed for that deadly bourne with 7,000 troops.

Events were soon to reveal the seriousness of this mistake. It was far more important to strike at Paris through Brittany than to occupy even the richest of the French West Indies. For a triumphant advance of the Bretons and Vendéans must not only have lessened the material resources of the Republic but also have deprived its defenders of one of their chief advantages. Hitherto the Republicans had been better massed together, while their assailants were spread over wide spaces. It is a well-known principle in war that an army operating on an inner arc, or what are termed interior lines, has a great advantage over forces spread over the outer circumference. The Allies [Pg 138]then held the Pyrenees, the Maritime Alps, the Rhine, and most of Flanders, Brittany, and parts of the South. The defenders, possessing the central provinces, could mass their units far more quickly and choose the point on that outer curve against which they would aim their blow.

This principle was thoroughly understood by Carnot. Near the centre of the circle he massed the levies that were to save the Republic, and, confiding them to zealots who were resolved to conquer or die, he soon had on foot armies which, however contemptible as units, were formidable from their weight and their enthusiasm. As in mechanics the mass multiplied by the speed gives the effective force, so in the campaign of 1793 the levée en masse multiplied by enthusiasm and impelled by the brain power of Carnot begot a momentum which, when brought to bear on light, scattered, and almost stationary bodies, proved to be irresistible. For while Carnot trusted to concentration, the Allies either sank into inertia, or made ex-centric movements which ultimately played into their opponents' hands. The Prussians, after taking Mainz, did little more than rest on their laurels, their only move being towards Luxemburg. Coburg was inclined to follow their example on the ground that an advance to Paris would unite all the French parties against him, while the siege of the remaining fortresses in the North would allow anarchy to run riot at the centre.[229] The argument is a good example of political finesse applied to a military problem, with disastrous results. Coburg therefore set about the siege of Quesnoy.

Certainly he could urge in excuse that the British Government now insisted on the resumption of its favourite plan, the capture of that nest of privateers, Dunkirk. On receipt of the news of the surrender of Valenciennes, an order was sent to the Duke of York to begin the siege of that once important stronghold, and capture it for Great Britain, though it might be allowed finally to fall to the Emperor as one of his new Barrier fortresses, provided that we gained indemnities in other parts of the world. French and German historians, with their usual bias against Great Britain, have assumed that she had resolved to keep Dunkirk. The contrary is proved by the despatches of Dundas to Murray, and by a letter of Sir Gilbert Elliot whom Pitt appointed commissioner to regulate affairs at Dunkirk. Writing to Lady [Pg 139]Elliot on 10th September Sir Gilbert says: "No further conquests are to be made in that quarter in the name of Great Britain, nor is it intended to retain Dunkirk after the peace."[230] A speedy capture of Dunkirk was evidently expected, for the same despatch ordered that the Hessian corps, some 8,000 strong, then with the Duke, must be held in readiness to depart to some other destination.[231] This referred either to the expedition in the Mediterranean (soon to be noticed) or to another, also in course of preparation, against Brittany. The Duke of York disapproved of the divergence towards Dunkirk, and the withdrawal of troops from his command.[232]

We here touch upon the weak side of Pitt's war policy. His aims at first had been merely to defend England from invasion, and to use the fleet and as many troops as could well be spared, to threaten various points along the coast of France and to capture her colonies. From these comparatively simple aims he had been drawn aside into a continental campaign, owing to the desirability of re-establishing Austria firmly in the Pays Bas. That is to say, a political aim drew him away from the simple and effective plan of a maritime and colonial war. Or rather it would be more correct to say that he tried to carry on a limited continental campaign as well as the coast expeditions which promised to paralyse the activities of large numbers of Frenchmen.

Accordingly, Pitt and his colleagues, instead of concentrating their activities on Flanders, prepared also to harass the coasts and colonies of France, and to withdraw part of the Duke of York's force for service in the Mediterranean or the West Indies. Instructions to this effect annoyed both the duke and Coburg. Most reluctantly did the latter consent to the divergence of the British towards Dunkirk; but, as he had already decided to spend the rest of the campaign in reducing the border fortresses, the division of forces had none of those appalling results which Alison and others have detected. The duke's corps, then, turned off to the right, and, after gaining some successes over bodies of the French, set about the siege of Dunkirk. If his siege train had arrived in time, the town would probably soon have surrendered.[Pg 140] But now Carnot was able to utilize some of the forces raised in the levée en masse. By the beginning of September the French relieving army amounted to 45,000 men under General Houchard; while the Hessians and Hanoverians covering the siege operations did not exceed 9,000 men. These made a most obstinate and skilful defence in the village of Bambeke, and thereafter at Hondschoote; but the inequality of force was too great; and they were outflanked and driven back towards Furnes and Nieuport with the loss of 2,600 men (6th to 8th September). The garrison also attacked the besiegers and received much assistance from French gunboats moored near the shore. It was an unfortunate circumstance that a storm on 1st September had compelled a British frigate and a sloop to leave their moorings. Even so, the duke's force beat back their assailants into the town. But the defeat of the covering army at Hondschoote placed it between the French, the walls of Dunkirk, and the sea. Only by a speedy retreat could he save his men; and at midnight he drew off, leaving behind 32 siege guns and large quantities of stores.[233]

At once there arose an outcry against our naval and transport authorities for not sending a squadron to cover the right flank of the Duke of York opposite Dunkirk. Elliot reports that the duke violently censured Richmond, head of the Ordnance Department, and Chatham, First Lord of the Admiralty, the latter of whom was universally allowed to be incompetent. Elliot adds: "I have seen Dundas and Pitt since the bad news. Dundas seems much dismayed. Pitt tried to carry it off better."[234] Certainly the delay in sending ships and stores was discreditable to all concerned. But the decisive action was that of Hondschoote, six miles distant from the coast, and that reverse was due to the inability of Coburg to spare the reinforcements which Murray pressed him to send. On its side the French Government was ill satisfied with the success at Hondschoote. Censuring Houchard for not pressing his advantage to the utmost and capturing the duke's whole army, it replaced him by his young and energetic subaltern, an ex-draper named Jourdan, who was destined to become one of Napoleon's marshals, while Houchard speedily went to the guillotine. By these drastic methods France found leaders who could conquer. For them the inspiring thought was—victory or the guillotine.

The news of the failure at Dunkirk shattered Pitt's hope of a speedy end to the war. That he faced the prospect of a second campaign with his usual buoyancy appears from some notes which bear the date 16th September [1793] and are headed: "Force to be employed in Flanders, or on the coast of France in the Channel and the Ocean." He proposes to increase 9 regiments at home to 800 men apiece, to raise 8 new regiments; and these, along with Guards and troops from Ireland would number at least 20,000. He also hoped that at least 20,000 more Austrians and about 25,000 Bavarians would be available for Flanders, raising the total force in that quarter to 175,000 men.[235] These roseate views are apt to provoke derision; but we must remember that not until the close of the year 1793 did the Republic put forth her full strength and beat back her enemies at all points.

It would be tedious to follow in detail the rest of Coburg's operations in Flanders. Early in September he took Quesnoy, and then drew together his forces for the capture of the intrenched camp at Maubeuge. In this he seemed about to succeed, when Jourdan's relieving force of 60,000 men, handled by Carnot, drove the Austrians back at Wattignies with much loss, and thus saved the garrison at Maubeuge, now in dire straits. On that day, 16th October, the head of Marie Antoinette fell at Paris.

As for the Duke of York's army, after remaining in a sorry plight near Ostend, it moved forward to Quesnoy to prolong Coburg's right; but the retreat of the main body involved his retirement towards Ostend, near which town he routed some detachments of French. For a time the Allies gained a few advantages and recovered lost ground. But the Republicans more than made up for occasional losses by pouring troops into Flanders; and, moving under cover of their fortresses, they often dealt heavy blows. In quality the Austrians and British far surpassed the raw levies of France; but these, having the advantage in number and position, could take the offensive along a wide ill-defended front. Wherever Coburg and the Duke of York attacked, they gained an advantage, soon to be lost in face of the gathering masses of the enemy. As Coburg pointed out, France sent forth another horde to take the place of one which [Pg 142]perished or melted away; and the Allies rarely had the chance of taking the offensive. By this last statement he passed sentence against himself. An able commander, even with inferior forces, will mass them so as to strike with effect. Pitt and Grenville continually pressed him to form some plan of action in conjunction with the Duke of York; but to this he as persistently demurred.[236] Is it surprising that Pitt demanded the removal of Coburg?

The Rhenish campaign, in which Austria took more interest, also languished owing to the sluggishness of the Duke of Brunswick. This, in its turn, resulted from political reasons. Frederick William, in spite of his treaty obligations to England, refused to move forward until she guaranteed his late gains in Poland and made further advances of money. Then, too, he felt no interest in Austria's proposed acquisition of parts of Alsace and Lorraine. Pitt and Grenville despatched Lord Yarmouth to the King's headquarters to make a formal protest against the proposed withdrawal of the Prussian army. Finally, Frederick William gave the order to advance, but too late to gain the results which prompt and vigorous co-operation with the Austrians should have achieved.[237] In short, the course of events in 1793 affords the classic example of the collapse of vast and imposing efforts owing to division of interests and the intrusion of jealousies and intrigues. Pitt and Grenville did their best to keep the Coalition united and active; but a Power which granted only limited help could not impart that unity of design without which great enterprises come to naught.

CHAPTER VI

Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary:
Then fiery expedition be my wing,
Jove's Mercury, and herald for a King.
—Shakespeare, King Richard III, act iv, sc. 3.

The enterprise destined to develop into the occupation of Toulon arose out of the negotiations for alliance with Austria, Sardinia, and Naples. By the first of these England pledged herself to send a considerable fleet into the Mediterranean, as an effective help to the military operations then going on in the Maritime Alps and the Genoese Riviera. Indeed, the Court of Vienna made this almost a sine quâ non of its alliance. On its side the British Government gained assurances of military aid from Sardinia and Naples, the former of those States agreeing to furnish 20,000 troops in return for the annual subsidy of £200,000.

Here, then, were the foundations of a Mediterranean policy on which Pitt and his colleagues began to build in the years 1793–4, with the singular and unforeseen results at Toulon and in Corsica. Everything favoured some such design. The French marine was enfeebled by mutiny, and, as the spring of 1793 merged into summer, there came ominous signs of revolt in the South against the Jacobin faction supreme at Paris. Accordingly Grenville urged the Hapsburg Court, in return for British help in Flanders, to assist an expedition of the Allies to the coast of Provence. The conduct of the Austrian Chancellor, Thugut, was characteristic. Far from strengthening the Imperial forces in Italy, he prepared to withdraw some of them for the Rhenish campaign, now that a British fleet spread its covering wings over the Kingdom of Sardinia.[238]

Nevertheless the British Ministers persevered with their scheme; but whether they at first aimed at Corsica or Toulon is uncertain.[239] Certain it is that Pitt on 19th July proposed to detach three line regiments from the Duke of York's force in Flanders and send them to the Mediterranean along with one brigade of the Hessian corps and a body of Würtembergers. He pointed out that the naval superiority of Hood and the Spanish fleet in that sea would enable us to strike a telling blow at Provence if we were helped by Sardinians, Neapolitans, and Austrians from the Milanese. He admitted the strength of the arguments in favour of our land forces acting together on one point; but he added: "What I now mention seems to offer a fair chance of doing something material in the South [of France], and, if we distress the enemy on more sides than one, while their internal distraction continues, it seems hardly possible that they can long oppose any effectual resistance."[240]

Pitt wrote thus at the time when Mainz and Valenciennes were on the point of surrender, and the Bretons, together with nearly the whole of the South of France, were in open revolt against the regicide Republic. Equally characteristic of his sanguine temperament is his Memorandum of 23rd August 1793 as to the allied forces which ought to be available for service against France in June 1794, namely, 30,000 in Flanders, while 50,000 marched thence on Paris; 50,000 to attack Brest, and as many more to attack Toulon.[241]

It so chanced that on that very day the ardour of the Provençaux brought about a very different situation. The arrival of Hood's fleet encouraged the moderates to send two Commissioners, representing the two coast Departments, to seek help from the British fleet. Thereupon on his flagship, the "Victory," Hood drew up a public Declaration that, if the ships-of-war in Toulon and Marseilles were unrigged and the French Royal standard hoisted, he would take those cities under his protection, respect private property and, on the conclusion of peace, restore the warships to the French monarchy. He then sent to a Spanish squadron, under Langara, cruising off the coast of Roussillon, with a request for help. That officer soon had the [Pg 145]promise of 2,000 Spanish troops, to be detached from the army invading that province. The Jacobin forces under Carteaux having crushed the moderates in Marseilles, Hood made for Toulon, though as yet the Spanish ships were not in sight. He cast anchor in the outer roadstead on 27th August, and landed 1,500 men near Fort Lamalgue, east of the town. In the afternoon fifteen Spanish ships arrived, and on the next day landed 1,000 men. On the 28th Hood also issued a proclamation to the effect that he would hold Toulon in trust only for Louis XVII until peace should be restored to France.[242] To this the Toulonese assented; the opposition of some of their sailors and troops soon collapsed; and a detachment of Carteaux' force was easily dislodged from a strong position near Ollioules, north-west of the town (31st August). Toulon therefore seemed a sure gain for the royalist cause.

Yet Pitt and his colleagues were careful not to identify themselves with that cause. Hood, having implied in his Toulon proclamation that one of the objects of Great Britain was the restoration of the French monarchy, Ministers warned him that "the true ground of the war was to repel an unjust and unprovoked aggression against His Majesty, and his Allies, and the rest of Europe, which had been evidently threatened and endangered by the conduct of France." True, in the course of the struggle England had supported the French Royalists, and might find it prudent, especially in view of the events at Toulon, to assist in restoring monarchy. "But," adds Lord Chatham, "it is to be considered as arising out of the circumstances and founded on the considerations which I have stated, and not as making part of the object for which His Majesty originally took up arms."[243] This gentle rebuke to Hood (an impetuous and opinionated officer), clearly shows the attitude of the Cabinet towards that problem. For Great Britain the re-establishment of monarchy was not an affair of principle, but solely of expediency. It is also noteworthy that the inhabitants of Toulon retained the tricolour flag, thus signifying their adhesion to constitutional royalism as established in 1791.

The fortunes of the Republic now appeared desperate; and the Allies would certainly have triumphed had they put forth a tithe of the energy developed by the Jacobins at Paris. With [Pg 146]ordinarily good management on the part of Austria, Sardinia, and Naples, Toulon might have become the centre of a great royalist movement in the South. That was certainly the expectation of Pitt; and Langara, the Spanish admiral at Toulon, expressed to his Government the hope that the war would soon end with honour.[244]

No one at first realized the difficulties of the enterprise. The ramparts of Toulon were extensive; and the outlying forts, from Lamalgue on the east to Mount Faron on the north, and the works on the west and south-west, spread over a circumference of fully fifteen miles. Then again the French royalist committee in Toulon was somewhat suspicious of the Allies. In truth a blight seemed to settle on the royalist cause when it handed over to foreigners one of the cherished citadels of France. Loyalty to Louis XVII now spelt treason to the nation. The crisis is interesting because it set sharply against one another the principles of monarchy and nationality; and the sequel proved that the national idea, though still far from mature even in France, had more potency than royalism. A keen-sighted observer had very forcibly warned the Marseillais against delivering their city into the hands of the Spaniards, a crime which must ruin their efforts. Such was the judgement of Bonaparte in that curious pamphlet "Le Souper de Beaucaire."

Other invisible agencies, those of time and space, told against the Allies. Despatches sent by Hood were at least eleven days in reaching their destination, and often far longer. Consequently, the plans framed at home were always belated. The first tidings (received on 7th September) found the Cabinet half committed to another enterprise, that in the West Indies, which Pitt very reluctantly postponed owing to the drain of troops to Flanders and Toulon. A further disadvantage was that disputes between the British and Spanish commanders at Toulon were known at Whitehall long after they had come to a head; and the final reports of the sore straits of the garrison led to the despatch to Cork of orders for the sailing of reinforcements five days after the evacuation began at Toulon.

In these brisk and giddy-paced times it is difficult to realize the difficulties which then beset British commanders warring in the Mediterranean against an enemy who could send news to [Pg 147]Paris in three days. Now the telegraph has annihilated space; but then, as in the campaigns of Francis I against Charles V, the compactness of France and her central position told enormously in her favour. The defence of Toulon was practicable, provided that adequate reinforcements arrived in time. As will soon appear, Pitt urged the despatch of strong reinforcements from Ireland; and, but for delays due to the want of transports, things might have gone very differently at Toulon. He also expected Austria to send succours if only as a means of protecting her Italian possessions. In truth, if the Hapsburgs had discerned the signs of the times, they would have taken steps to defend the Milanese at Toulon. They were destined to rue their folly.

Further, on 14th September, despite bad news from Dunkirk, Dundas issued orders that 4,000 Hessians, serving under the Duke of York, must be withdrawn in order to strengthen the garrison at Toulon, their place being taken by others hired at Cassel. On 28th September Dundas added that the artillery sent for Dunkirk would be withdrawn from Flanders as it was urgently needed at Toulon. Thus these two expeditions competed together, and produced a dislocation of plans and ordering of troops to and fro, which told against success in either quarter. By 27th October Ministers definitely decided that Toulon, or la Vendée, was a better fulcrum for their scanty forces than Flanders.[245] Even so, with all these dislocations of the Flemish plans, Pitt and Dundas relied too much upon Austria; and all too late found out that she was a broken reed. The Sardinians, also, lacking due support from the Court of Vienna, were afraid to denude their borders and therefore sent an inadequate contingent, despite the fact that they had promised to place 20,000 troops at the disposal of England free from all expense.

Far different was the procedure of the French. Carnot determined to retake Lyons and Toulon, even if the efforts against Spain and Sardinia had to be relaxed. Further, on the 16th of September there arrived at the Republican army west of Toulon the incarnation of warlike energy and skill. At the bidding of the Commissioners of the Convention, Napoleon Bonaparte had come from the arsenal at Marseilles to assist the few artillerymen then before Toulon. On the 17th he was placed in command [Pg 148]of their insignificant siege artillery, and forthwith from the slopes two miles west of the town he opened fire on the nearest ships. It is incorrect to claim for him the origination of the plan of sinking the fleet by a fire from the height behind l'Eguilette; for three days earlier the Commissioners of the Convention had written that they would secure a position whence the allied fleet could be sunk by red-hot cannon-balls; and there was no point but the high ground behind Fort l'Eguilette which dominated both the inner and the outer harbours.[246] But it may freely be granted that Bonaparte clinched the arguments in favour of this course and brought to bear on it that masterful energy which assures triumph. It was the first occasion on which he crossed the path of Pitt; and here, as always, he had the advantage of a central position, and of wielding a compact and homogeneous force against discordant Allies.

The worst difficulty confronting the defenders of Toulon remains to be noted. There the Sea Power is at the mercy of the Land Power. To attempt to defend that city at the head of its land-locked harbour, dominated by promontories, was to court disaster unless the fleet had an army to protect it. In such a case a fleet is a source of danger rather than of safety. Its true function is to act where it can, either directly or indirectly, command the land. It operates with most effect against low and exposed coasts. St. Jean d'Acre affords, perhaps, the best example of a town at the mercy of a fleet. Portsmouth, Sydney, Brest, and Toulon cannot be held by an enemy unless he brings forces sufficient to hold the neighbouring heights. In occupying Toulon, the Sea Power was virtually putting its head into the lion's jaw. Only by degrees did the authorities at home understand this all-important fact. For some time it was veiled from Pitt; and, as we shall see, the Austrian Chancellor, Thugut, never did understand it. To those who were on the spot, the need of occupying the promontory behind l'Eguilette was apparent; and on 21st September Lord Mulgrave and Rear-Admiral Gravina led a force to seize the very height on which Bonaparte's will had already fastened. The Allies crowned it with a temporary work dignified by the name of Fort Mulgrave. The fortunes[Pg 149] [Pg 150]of Toulon turned on the possession of all the heights commanding the harbour, but especially of this one.

Even before the arrival of Bonaparte the difficulties of defence were very great. A British naval officer wrote on the 14th to Lord St. Helens, British ambassador at Madrid, that the situation of the little garrison was very critical owing to daily attacks from the 5,000 French at Ollioules and the same number on the eastern side. The Allies, he added, could not wholly trust the French royalists serving with them, and they were glad to send away on four French sail-of-the-line some 6,000 French sailors who had bargained to be landed on the Biscay coast. Having only 1,570 British and 3,460 Spaniards, they could scarcely man the ramparts and forts, several of which, especially those on Mount Faron, were not nearly ready. The houses of the town were far too near to the ramparts; but the Allies dared not demolish them until reinforcements arrived. Fortunately the Spanish Admiral, Gravina, was alert, intelligent, and trustworthy; and Piedmontese were known to be advancing over the Maritime Alps into the county of Nice. Part of Hood's fleet was engaged in intercepting the supplies and stores destined for the Republicans.[247]

The letter brings out vividly the perils of the garrison, which must have evacuated Toulon had not reinforcements speedily arrived. On 26th September Hood wrote that the Allies were kept in perpetual alarm by the French batteries, which must be kept under at all risks, until more troops arrived.[248] Fortunately the foresight of Pitt and Grenville had provided the means of backing up operations in the Mediterranean. Apart from the treaty with Sardinia, there was a compact with Naples, whereby that Court promised a force of 6,000 men and 12 warships, the naval expenses being borne by England.[249] By 5th October 1,350 [Pg 151]Sardinian and 4,000 Neapolitan troops arrived, thus enabling the garrison to hold up against the ever increasing forces of the Republicans. On the other hand, the fall of Lyons on 9th October set free large numbers who were available for service at Toulon. Consequently the troops and seamen of the Allies were persistently overworked, so that Hood was constrained to hire 1,500 Maltese seamen, to take the place of those serving the batteries. At first only 750 British troops could be spared from Gibraltar; but by the end of October, when further help was at hand, the allied forces (rank and file) stood as follows:

So exacting was the service, and so unhealthy the season (it cost Bonaparte a sharp attack of malarial fever), that the number fit for duty did not exceed 12,000.

It is interesting to compare these figures with the estimate of Pitt which is in the Pitt MSS. (No. 196).

September 16.

Force which it is supposed may be collected at Toulon by the end of October or early in November:

	Rank and File.
British Marines	1,500
Bri"ish flank companies from Gibraltar	600
Bri"ish fl"nk comp"nies fr"m Ireland	2,000 [250]
Bri"ish Two battalions from Flanders (to be replaced by detachments from the Guards)	1,200
Bri"ish Cavalry from Ireland	900
Hessians from Flanders (to be replaced by the additional corps ordered)	5,000
Spanish (suppose)	3,000
Neapolitan	6,000
Sardinian	9,000
Austrian	5,000
	———
Total	33,200
	[sic—really 34,200.]

[Pg 152]

This Force may be estimated (allowing for some deduction) at 30,000 men. To this may possibly be added some Force from Corsica, and probably early in the spring, an additional body of 11,000 Sardinians, perhaps also of 10,000 Austrians, and some troops of Baden from hence. Possibly also a body of Swiss, and in the course of the next summer (if the expedition to the West Indies is successful) about 4,000 or 5,000 British on their return from the Islands. If 10,000, or 12,000, Swiss can be secured, it seems not unreasonable to expect that, by the beginning of next year, there may be an army in the South of France of near 60,000 men.

Pitt, then, regarded Toulon as the base of operations in the South of France so extensive as to deal a decisive blow at the Republic. The scheme was surely due to the influence of Bacchus rather than of Mars. For how was it possible to spare 6,200 men from the Duke of York's force, then hard pressed after its retreat from Dunkirk? The estimate of the Sardinian contingent was based on the treaty obligations of that Power rather than on probable performance; while that for the Spaniards is strangely beneath the mark. How boyishly hopeful also to suppose that the British forces destined for the future conquest of Corsica could spare a contingent for service in Provence in the spring of 1794, and that the nervous little Court of Turin would send an additional body of 11,000 men far into France. Thus early in Pitt's strategic combinations we can detect the vitiating flaw. He did not know men, and therefore he did not know Cabinets. He believed them to be acting according to his own high standard of public duty and magnanimous endeavour. Consequently he never allowed for the calculating meanness which shifted the burdens on to other shoulders.

The one factor on which he had a right to count was the despatch of a respectable force of Austrians from the Milanese by way of Genoa. The Austrian Governor of Milan promised to [Pg 153]send 5,000 men; but not a man ever stirred.[251] Hood did not hear this disappointing news till 24th November.[252] He at once sent off to London an urgent request for succour; and orders were given on 23rd December (the day after the arrival of the news) for three regiments to sail from Cork for his relief. Thus it came about that 12,000 Allies were left unsupported at Toulon to bear the brunt of attacks of some 40,000 Frenchmen now directed by a genius. O'Hara, who took over the command on his arrival on 27th October, at once gave a verdict consonant with his pessimistic character. Hood wrote on the morrow to Dundas: "General O'Hara has just been with me and alarmed me much. He says our posts are not tenable and that we are in a dangerous situation for lack of troops that can be relied upon. And, what is very unpleasant, is the conduct of the Spaniards, who are striving for power here." On 11th November O'Hara reported that, in the absence of engineer officers, the forts had been injudiciously constructed; that their garrisons began to suffer from exposure to the bleak weather; that the broken and wooded country greatly favoured the advance of the enemy, and hampered all efforts to dislodge him; that the Spaniards and Sardinians had no artillery, tools, or camp equipments; and that the only means of securing Toulon was to have an army capable of taking the field.[253] Hood and he therefore counted the hours for the arrival of 5,000 Austrians from Genoa, and of troops from England.

The difficulties of the Allies were enhanced by the disputes which soon arose between the British and Spaniards as to the command of the garrison. The tactful Gravina having been badly wounded in driving the French from Mount Faron, Langara put in a claim that his successor should be commander-in-chief[Pg 154] of the allied forces (23rd October). To this Hood stoutly demurred, on the ground that he received Toulon in trust before the Spaniards appeared; and, though it was true that the Spanish troops outnumbered the British, yet the command of the Neapolitan and Sardinian contingents belonged of right to the subsidizing Power. He therefore claimed the supreme command for General O'Hara. This matter caused much annoyance at Madrid, where that rankling sore, Nootka Sound, was still kept open by the all-powerful Minister, Alcudia. Hood's testiness increased the friction at Toulon. The Spaniards were justified in claiming equality at that fortress; for only by their arrival did the position become tenable; and the joint proclamations of Hood and Langara formed a tacit admission of that equality. But Pitt early resolved to take a firm stand on this subject. On 17th October, in discussing the instructions for Sir Gilbert Elliot, the British Commissioner designated for Toulon, he declared that we must appoint him governor of that town in consequence of its surrender to us.[254]

Pitt kept up this stiff attitude, and on 30th November stated to St. Helens that, as Toulon surrendered to Hood alone (Langara having declined to share in the original enterprise) England must appoint the commander-in-chief, especially as she could not transfer to a Spaniard the command of her subsidized Allies. The despatch concluded thus: "His Majesty has in no case any view upon that place different from that which has been avowed in his name—that at the conclusion of peace that port should be restored to the crown of France and that in the interval it should serve in His Majesty's hands as a means of carrying on the war and as a pledge of indemnity to him and his Allies, including the Crown of Spain, whose claim to indemnity His Majesty has so distinctly avowed."[255]

These words were added because the French Royalists and the Spaniards asserted that England's high-handed conduct at Toulon arose from her resolve to make of it a second Gibraltar. The insinuation struck home then, and has been widely repeated.[256] But, on the first receipt of the news of the gain of Toulon, Grenville declared explicitly to the Austrian Court "that whatever[Pg 155] indemnification is to be acquired by this country must be looked for in the foreign settlements and colonies of France."[257] As we shall see in later chapters, Corsica and the French West Indies were the acquisitions aimed at by the Pitt Ministry.

Some colour was given to this charge by the refusal of the British Government to allow the Comte de Provence, the soi-disant Regent of France, to proceed to Toulon. Grenville even instructed Francis Drake, our envoy at Genoa, to prevent him embarking at that port. At first sight this conduct seems indefensible, especially as the Court of Madrid favoured the Prince's scheme. It must be remembered, however, that the British Government had consistently refused to acknowledge the Prince as Regent, and was now exceedingly annoyed with him for announcing his resolve to go to Toulon, without first applying for permission to George III.[258] This violation of etiquette prejudiced his case from the outset. Further, the Royalists of Toulon had declared for Louis XVII, and a majority of them throughout France opposed the claim of "Monsieur" to the Regency. The constitution of 1791 gave him no such right on his own initiative; and, as Toulon stood for that constitution, not for the "pure" royalism which he now championed, his arrival would place the garrison "at the discretion of wild and hot-headed emigrants and expose them to the reproaches and discontents of the Regent's Court."[259] Besides, what could the Regent of France do in Toulon, a town closely besieged and in danger of being taken? His dignity and influence would be far better maintained by remaining at large than by proceeding thither.[260]

Finally, the two princes had given no assurance or promise that they would recognize the claims of the Allies to indemnities from France for the expenses of the war.[261] On this last matter the émigrés were beginning to raise shrill protests at London; and it was certainly wise to come to some understanding with [Pg 156]the princes on this point before they were put in possession of Provence. Pitt and Grenville were not made of the same stuff as the Ministers in power in 1815, who demanded no return for the sacrifices of blood and treasure in the Waterloo campaign. None the less, it is certain that Pitt and his cousin had no thought of keeping either Dunkirk or Toulon, save as a pledge for the acquisition of some of the French West Indies and Corsica.[262] This was hinted at plainly in the British Declaration issued at Toulon on 20th November:

That altho' at the conclusion of peace, we shall think ourselves entitled to stipulate such terms as may afford just security to ourselves and our Allies, and a reasonable indemnification for the risks and expenses of a war in which, without any provocation on our part, we have been compelled to engage, yet that, for our part our views of indemnification can only have relation to places not on the Continent of Europe.

After this explicit statement, there ought to have been no bickerings about British aggrandisement at Toulon. Some of the hot-heads in that town (echoed by Fox later on at Westminster) chose to consider the Declaration as an infraction of Hood's promise that he would hold Toulon merely in trust for Louis XVII. The difference, however was not vital. Pitt and Grenville intended to hold Toulon merely as a pledge that the British claims to an indemnity elsewhere would be satisfied. Spain had most cause for annoyance with the Declaration, inasmuch as she, though having a superior number of troops in that town, was neither allowed to consider it as a pledge for her future indemnities, nor to share in its government. It was confided to three Commissioners—Sir Gilbert Elliot, Hood, and O'Hara, Elliot being virtually Governor.

In one other matter the Courts of St. James and of Madrid were at variance. The latter urged the need of speedily removing the French warships from Toulon to a Spanish port, or of making preparations for burning them. Whereas Pitt, who regarded Toulon, not as a windfall, but as a base of operations for a campaign in Provence, maintained that such conduct must [Pg 157]blight their prospects. With phenomenal stupidity, Langara allowed his secret instructions on this topic to leak out, thereby rousing the rage of the Toulonese and the contempt of his British colleagues. The Duke of Alcudia (better known as Godoy) expressed sincere regret for this bêtise. But the mischief was done. The French royalists thenceforth figured as traitors who had let in a band of thieves intent only on the seizure of the French warships.

As if this were not enough, Hood quarrelled with our military officers, with results highly exasperating to our land forces.[263] These last did not shine during the siege. True, in the sortie of 29th November they captured a battery recently erected north of Malbosquet; but, their eagerness exceeding their discipline, they rushed on, despite orders to remain in the battery, like a pack of hounds after a fox (wrote Hood);[264] whereupon the French rushed upon them, driving them back with heavy loss. O'Hara, while striving to retrieve the day, was wounded and captured. His mantle of gloom devolved upon Major-General David Dundas, a desponding officer, who had recently requested leave to return on furlough on the ground of ill health and inability to cope with the work. This general's letters to his ever confident relative, Henry Dundas, at Whitehall, were always in a minor key. In his eyes the Spanish troops were "everything that is bad"; half of the Toulonese were hostile to the Allies; and the latter were heavily handicapped by having to defend their own fleets. There was some truth in this; but the whining tone of the letters, due to ill health, drew from the Minister a stinging retort, to the effect that the occupation of Toulon had taken Ministers wholly by surprise; that they had done their best to comply with the new demands for troops, and expected their general not to look at his own difficulties alone, but to remember those of the enemy and endeavour to beat him.[265]

This was the spirit in which Hood faced the problem. Even at the close of November, when all hope of the arrival of the 5,000 Austrians was past, he refused to listen to David Dundas's advice for the evacuation of Toulon; and surely this pertinacity was consonant with the traditions of the British navy, and of the [Pg 158]army in its better days; but out of this question arose a feud between army and navy which developed in Corsica with disastrous results. Ministers strove to send all the succour available. But they did not hear until 22nd December that the 5,000 Austrians were being withheld. Henry Dundas's letter of the 28th also breathes deep concern at the news that Sir R. Boyd had not forwarded from Gibraltar the reinforcements ordered thence. Further, it appears from an official estimate drawn up at Whitehall on 18th December, that the troops already at or ordered to Toulon were believed to be as follows: British, 2,828; Spanish, 4,147; Sardinians, 2,162; Neapolitans, 8,600. Dundas also included the 1,100 British troops ordered from Gibraltar (where at that time there was no chance of an attack), and 2,361 men under directions to sail from Cork, but which could not stir owing to the non-arrival of the transports.[266] The resulting total of 21,198 is, of course, merely a sign of Henry Dundas's optimism. But obviously Ministers were unaware of the acute crisis at Toulon at the time of its surrender. In the age of telegraphy, that disaster would have been averted. The delays of the Austrians, and the muddles at Gibraltar and Cork, would have been known betimes.

Strange to say, there was at that time lying at anchor at Spithead a force under Lord Moira's command, destined for Brittany, but held back for various causes, which would probably have turned the balance at Toulon, had Ministers known of the dire need of reinforcements. It is mortifying to read the letters of Pitt and the Marquis of Buckingham early in December, complaining that Moira's force is strangely inactive.[267] Still more startling is it to read the hurried order of 23rd December (six days after the loss of Toulon), that the 40th regiment, then unexpectedly detained at Cork, though detached for service with Lord Moira, should set sail at once for the French stronghold along with the other regiments also detained at Cork.[268] What might not have happened, had those troops set sail for Toulon before the close of November?

Hero-worshippers will probably maintain that, even if Toulon had been held harmoniously by all the troops which the imagination of Pitt and Dundas conjured up, nevertheless the genius and [Pg 159]daring of the little Corsican would have prevailed. This view is tenable; but the prosaic mind, which notes the venturesome extension of Bonaparte's batteries in November–December, until they presented their right flanks to the cliffs and their rear to the open sea, though at too high a level to be cannonaded, will probably conclude that, if Hood and Langara had had a force of 20,000 men, they could have driven the French from those works. As it was, the Allies, not having enough men, stood on the defensive all along their very extensive front, and were overpowered at Fort Mulgrave, which was some miles away from the city. Its garrison of 700 men (British, Spanish, and a few Neapolitans) was assailed in the stormy night of 16th–17th December by 7,000 of the best of the Republican troops. The ensuing conflict will best be understood from the hitherto unpublished account given by the commander-in-chief. After describing the heavy cannonade from three French batteries against Fort Mulgrave, he continues thus:

H.M.S. "Victory," Hières Bay, Dec. 21, 1793.[269]

... The works suffered much. The number of men killed and wounded was considerable. The weather was rainy and the consequent fatigue great. At 2 a.m. of the 17th, the enemy, who had every advantage in assembling and suddenly advancing, attacked the fort in great force. Although no part of this temporary post was such as could well resist determined troops, yet for a considerable time it was defended; but, on the enemy entering on the Spanish side, the British quarter, commanded by Captain Conolly of the 18th regiment, could not be much longer maintained, notwithstanding several gallant efforts were made for that purpose. It was therefore at last carried, and the remains of the garrison of 700 men retired towards the shore of Balaguier, under the protection of the other posts established on those heights, and which continued to be faintly attacked by the enemy. As this position of Balaguier was a most essential one for the preservation of the harbour, and as we had no communication with it but by water, 2,200 men had been placed there for some time past. On the night preceding the attack, 300 more men had been sent over, and on the morning of the 17th, 400 were embarked still further to support it.

When the firing at Balaguier ceased, we remained in anxious suspense as to the event, till a little before daylight, when a new scene opened by an attack on all our posts on Mt. Pharon. The enemy were repulsed on the east side, where was our principal force of about 700 men, commanded[Pg 160] by a most distinguished officer, the Piedmontese Colonel, de Jermagnan, whose loss we deeply lament; but on the back of the mountain—near 1,800 feet high, steep, rocky, deemed almost inaccessible, and which we had laboured much to make so—they found means once more to penetrate between our posts, which occupied an extent of above two miles, guarded by about 450 men; and in a very short space of time we saw that with great numbers they crowned all that side of the mountain which overlooks the town.

In this despatch David Dundas proclaimed his own incompetence. For some time it had been obvious that the Republicans were about to attack Fort Mulgrave, which everybody knew to be essential to the defence of the fleet. Yet he took no steps to strengthen this "temporary post" so that it might resist a determined attack. He also entrusted one half of the battery to the Spaniards whom he had declared to be "everything that is bad." On his own showing, as many as 2,500 allied troops were near at hand on the Balaguier or Eguilette heights to act as supports, before Bonaparte's attack began; and 400 more were sent thither soon afterwards. A spirited attack by those troops on the victors at Fort Mulgrave on its blind side might have retrieved the day; but a panic seized part of the supports, whom Sidney Smith describes as rushing like swine towards the sea though the enemy was only in a condition to attack "faintly." Hood was furious at this spiritless acceptance of defeat; and in his despatch to Whitehall censured the troops for not making a timely effort;[270] but as David Dundas had all along opined that the place was untenable, he decided to hold a council of war. It registered the wishes of the desponding chief. The officers decided that it was impossible either to retake the two positions lost, or to establish a post on the outer, or Cepet, peninsula, capable of protecting the roadstead from the cross fires which the French would pour in from the Balaguier and Cape Brun promontories.

During the next three days the evacuation took place amidst scenes of misery for the royalist refugees that baffle the imagination. As many as 14,877 were crowded on board the British ships, together with some 8,000 troops. At the same time Captains Sidney Smith, Hare, and Edge, with a picked body of men burnt or otherwise damaged 27 French warships left in the harbour,[Pg 161] while 18 were brought away by the Allies. Eleven of the twenty-seven were not seriously injured by the fire, and they afterwards flew the tricolour. But the loss of 34 warships and nearly all the masts and other valuable stores was a blow from which the French navy did not recover until Bonaparte before his Egyptian expedition breathed his own matchless vigour into the administration. In ships and stores, then, France suffered far more heavily than the Allies. Their losses elude the inquiries of the statistician. They consisted in the utter discredit of the royalist cause throughout France, the resentment that ever follows on clumsy or disloyal co-operation, and the revelation of the hollowness of the imposing fabric of the First Coalition. In the south of France four nations failed to hold a single fortress which her own sons had placed in their power.

The Nemesis which waits upon weakness and vacillation has rarely appeared in more mocking guise than at the close of the year 1793. About the time when Toulon surrendered, the Austrian Government finally came to the determination to despatch thither the 5,000 men which it had formerly promised to send. Grenville received this news from Eden in the first days of 1794, shortly after the surrender of the fortress was known. Thereupon he penned these bitter words: "If the first promise had been fulfilled agreeably to the expectation which His Majesty was justified in forming, the assistance of such a body of disciplined troops would have sufficed to ensure the defence of that important post; and the injury which the common cause has sustained on this occasion can be ascribed only to the tardiness and indecision which so strongly characterize the Austrian Government."[271] Most tactfully he bade Eden refrain from reproaches on this occasion and to use it merely as an argument for throwing greater vigour into the next campaign.

Events pointed the moral far more strongly than Eden could do. As by a lightning flash, the purblind politicians of Vienna could now discern the storm-wrack drifting upon them. The weakness of the Piedmontese army, their own unpreparedness in the Milanese, the friendliness of Genoa to France, and the Jacobinical ferment in all parts of Italy, portended a speedy irruption of the Republicans into an almost defenceless land where they were sure of a welcome from the now awakened populace. [Pg 162]So long as Toulon held out, Piedmont and Milan were safe. Now, the slackness of Austria enabled her future destroyer to place his foot on the first rung of the ladder of fame, and prompted those mighty plans for the conquest of the Italian States which were to ensure her overthrow and his supremacy.

Well might Eden dwell on the consternation prevalent at Vienna early in 1794. For, along with news of the loss of Toulon, tidings of defeat and retreat came from the Rhineland. Able and vigorous young generals, Hoche and Pichegru, had beaten back Austrians and Prussians from the hills around Wörth and Weissenburg; so that the Allies fell back with heavy losses towards the Rhine. Thus, on the whole, the efforts of Austria, Great Britain, Prussia, Holland, and some of the smaller German States had availed merely to capture four fortresses, Mainz, Condé, Valenciennes, and Quesnoy. It is not surprising that public opinion in England, even in loyal circles, became clamorous against the conduct of the war.[272]

Not the least of the misfortunes attending the Toulon episode was that the logic of events, and also the growing savagery of the Reign of Terror, edged Pitt away from his standpoint of complete neutrality as to the future government of France. How could the ally of the Toulonese Royalists profess indifference on that topic? On 5th October he wrote as follows to Grenville respecting the powers to be granted to Sir Gilbert Elliot at Toulon:

I do not see that we can go on secure grounds if we treat with any separate districts or bodies of men [in France] who stop short of some declaration in favour of monarchy: nor do I see any way so likely to unite considerable numbers in one vigorous effort as by specifying monarchy as the only system in the re-establishment of which we are disposed to concur. This idea by no means precludes us from treating with any other form of regular Government, if, in the end, any other should be solidly established; but it holds out monarchy as the only one from which we expect any good, and in favour of which we are disposed to enter into concert.[273]

These words are remarkable. Clearly, in Pitt's view of things, "security" for England and Holland was the paramount aim; but he was beginning to feel that the Republican groups which scrambled to power at Paris over the headless trunks of their [Pg 163]enemies, could offer no adequate security. When the Revolution began to solidify, as it seemed about to do in 1795–7, he was willing to treat with its chiefs; but already he was feeling the horns of the dilemma, which may be described in words adapted from Talleyrand's famous mot of the year 1814: "Either the Bourbons or the Republic: everything else is an intrigue." The Toulon episode, more than anything else, bound France to the regicide cause, and Pitt, albeit unwillingly, to the irreconcilable Royalists. Thus the event which brought Bonaparte to the front, shattered the aim of the Prime Minister to effect merely the restoration of the Balance of Power.

CHAPTER VII

The much better way doubtless will be, in this wavering condition of our affairs, to defer the changing or circumscribing of our Senate more than may be done with ease till the Commonwealth be thoroughly settled in peace and safety.—Milton, A Free Commonwealth.

But cease, ye fleecing Senators
Your country to undo,
Or know, we British sans-culottes
Hereafter may fleece you.
Thelwall, A Shearing Song.

The outbreak of hostilities often tends to embitter the strife of parties. Those who oppose war find abundant cause for criticism in the conduct of Ministers, who in their turn perforce adopt measures alien to the traditions of Westminster. A system founded on compromise cannot suddenly take on the ways of a military State; and efforts in this direction generally produce more friction than activity. At such times John Bull, flurried and angry, short-sighted but opinionated, bewildered but dogged as ever, is a sight to move the gods to laughter and his counsellors to despair.

The events of the session of 1793 illustrate my meaning. In view of the notorious sympathy of the Radical Clubs with France, Pitt proposed a Bill against Traitorous Correspondence with the enemy. Both he and Burke proved that the measure, far from being an insidious attack on the liberties of the subject, merely aimed at enforcing "the police of war." Nevertheless, it passed only by a majority of one—a warning to the Ministry not to proceed further in that doubtful course (9th April 1793). Pitt had the full support of the House in opposing Grey's motion for Parliamentary Reform, which was thrown out by 282 votes to 41. The war spirit also appeared in a sharp rebuff given to Wilberforce and the Abolitionists on 14th May. The institution[Pg 165] of a Board of Agriculture (which Hussey, Sheridan, and Fox opposed as a piece of jobbery) and the renewal of the Charter of the East India Company were the chief practical results of that session. But the barrenness of the session, the passing of the Traitorous Correspondence Bill, and the hardships connected with the balloting for the militia stirred the Radical Clubs to redoubled energy; so that home affairs for two or three years centred in their propaganda and in Pitt's repressive efforts. The development of a keen political consciousness in the masses is a subject of so much interest that I may be pardoned for dwelling on it somewhat fully, with the aid of new materials drawn from the Home Office Archives.

There we see the causes of unrest. Hunger, hatred of the militia laws, chafing against restraints entailed by the war, all conduce to discontent. The newly awakened Caliban is also a prey to suspicion. He hates foreigners. Yet, either as refugees or prisoners, they swarm along the south coast (there were for a time 5,000 prisoners in Winchester). Fishermen are tempted to help in their escape, and a mariner of Emsworth is arraigned for treason on this count. Even so far west as Bodmin the prisoners are numerous and threatening. They convince many of the townsfolk that England would be better off as a Republic; and two patriotic ladies in fear and horror inform Lord Mount Edgcumbe anonymously that Frenchmen cut a mark round the neck of King George on all coins. The vicar of Ringmer, near Lewes, reports that the smugglers of the Sussex coast carry on a regular intercourse with France. In the Isle of Wight even the French royalists, who are there awaiting the despatch of Lord Moira's long-deferred expedition to Brittany, figure as murderous Jacobins. In Bath, too, the mayor, Mr. Harington, is troubled by the influx of Gallic artists and dancing-masters, especially as they mix in all the "routs," and dare even there to whisper treason against King George. Another report comes that a French usher in a large school near London—was it Harrow?—has converted several of the boys to republicanism. Clearly, these are cases for the Aliens Act.

Even Britons, untainted by Gallic connections, are suspect. At Billingsgate a soldier swears that he was set upon at night because he wore the uniform of "a d——d tyrant"; and other evidence proves that the service was unpopular for political reasons as well as the poor pay. Farmers are plied by emissaries of[Pg 166] the clubs as they come in to market. Complaints come to Dundas that farmers and shippers on the coasts of Lancashire and Cumberland sell corn to "the natural enemy."

The discontent takes colour from its surroundings. At Pocklington in Yorkshire the villagers threaten to burn the magistrates in their houses in revenge for the conviction of poachers. The rowdies of Olney in Bucks. (formerly a sore trial to Cowper and John Newton) terrorize the neighbourhood. Everywhere the high price of corn produces irritation. The tinworkers of North Cornwall march in force to Padstow to prevent the exportation of corn from that little harbour; otherwise they are law-abiding, though a magistrate warns Dundas that local malcontents are setting them against the Government. Multiply these typical cases a thousand fold, and it will be seen that the old rural system is strained to breaking point. The amenities of the rule of the squires are now paid back, and that, too, at a time when England needs one mind, one heart, one soul. At and near Sheffield serious riots break out owing to the enclosures of common-fields and wastes, the houses of the agricultural "reformers" being burnt or wrecked. On the whole, however, I have found fewer references to enclosures than might be expected.[274]

As generally happens in times of excitement, the towns are the first to voice the dumb or muttering hatreds of the villages. Parisians led the Revolution in France, though its causes lay thickest and deepest in the rural districts. Not until Paris "stormed" its castle did the villagers attack theirs. So, too, in the muffled repetition of the revolutionary music which England sounds forth, the towns buzz, while the country supplies but a dull ground-tone. Dearness of food and scarcity of work were the chief causes of discontent. The spokesmen for the Spitalfields weavers, who number 14,000, sent up a temperate petition setting forth their distress; but, as is often the case in London, their thoughts turned not to politics, but to practical means of cure. They stated that the trade in velvets, brocades, and rich silks would be absolutely ruined unless steps were taken to revive the fashion in these fabrics. In Liverpool there were far other grievances. There, as in all seaports, the tyranny of the press-gang was sharply resented; and, early in November 1793, the populace clamoured for the election of a "liberty-loving mayor," [Pg 167]Mr. Tarleton, who promised to keep the press-gang out of the town.[275]

In general the malcontents urged their case most pointedly in towns and villages, where branches of the Radical Societies had taken root. These Societies or clubs continued to grow in number and influence through the year 1793, the typical club being now concerned, not with faro, but with the "Rights of Man." Some of the Reform Clubs sought to moderate the Gallicizing zeal of the extreme wing. Thus, the "Friends of the People," whose subscription of two and a half guineas was some guarantee for moderation, formally expressed their disapproval of Paine's works and all Republican agencies—a futile declaration; for his "Rights of Man" was the very life-blood of the new clubs. Working men had shown little or no interest in the earlier motions for Reform. The Associations of the years 1780–5 had lapsed; and it was clearly the joint influence of the French Revolution and Paine's productions which led to the remarkable awakening of the year 1792.

Besides the London Corresponding Society, started (as we saw in Chapter III) by Thomas Hardy early in that year, there was another formidable organization, the Society for Constitutional Information, founded in London at the close of 1791. It, too, was concerned with much more than the Reform of Parliament; for on 18th May 1792 it recommended the publication in a cheap form of Paine's "Rights of Man"; and on 21st November it appointed a Committee for Foreign Correspondence. A little later were adopted some of the phrases used in the French Convention, and St. André, Roland, and Barère were admitted to membership. It does not appear that either this Society, or Hardy's, corresponded with France after the declaration of war; for the Parliamentary Committee of Secrecy, charged in 1794 to report on seditious proceedings would, if it were possible, have fastened on so compromising an act. Its members belonged to a higher class than those of Hardy's Society; for they included Romney the painter, Holcroft the dramatist, Horne Tooke, the humorous littérateur, and Thelwall, the ablest lecturer of the day.[276] That these men had advanced far beyond the standpoint of the Whiggish "Friends [Pg 168]of the People," appears from a letter from one of the Norwich Radical Clubs to the London Corresponding Society:

The Friends of the People mean only a partial Reform, because they leave out words expressing the Duke of Richmond's plan and talk only of a Reform; while the Manchester people seem to intimate, by addressing Mr. Paine, as though they were intent upon Republican principles only. Now, to come closer to the main question, it is only desired to know whether the generality of the Societies mean to rest satisfied with the Duke of Richmond's plan only, or whether it is their private design to rip up monarchy by the roots and place democracy in its stead.[277]

These Societies seem to have put forth no definite programme. Their defenders claimed that they adhered to the Westminster programme of 1780, championed by Fox and the Duke of Richmond. But Fox strongly disapproved of their aims, and even refused to present their petition for annual parliaments and universal suffrage.[278] In truth, the actions of these bodies belied their words. They largely devoted their funds and their energies to the circulation in a cheap form of the works of Paine, 200,000 copies being sold in 1793,[279] and still more in the following year. The Societies also adopted methods of organization similar to those of the French Jacobins Club, and advocated the assembly of a representative Convention. Every sixteen members of the London Corresponding Society could form a division; and the divisions, by the process of swarming-off, rapidly extended the organization. They also sent delegates who conferred on matters of importance, either locally or at headquarters; and the head delegation finally claimed to represent very large numbers in London and affiliated centres. In the conduct of details Spartan self-restraint was everywhere manifest. Members were urged to be brief in their remarks and business-like in their methods. Officials must give a solemn promise not to skulk, or make off, owing to persecution; and members were warned that noisy declamation was not a proof of zeal but might be a cloak for treachery. Above the chairman's seat was suspended a card with [Pg 169]the words—"Beware of Orators." One would like to have witnessed the proceedings of these dully earnest men.

Both in the provinces and in London, reformers of the old type sought to curb the more dangerous of these developments, especially correspondence with the Jacobins' Club at Paris. Thus, the Manchester Constitutional Society having published its address of congratulation to that body, together with the reply of Carras, a member, George Lloyd, entered a formal protest in these terms: "We are not a Republican Society; but from such connection and correspondence we shall involve ourselves in the imputation of Republicanism." He added that their aim was solely the Reform of Parliament, and with that foreigners had no concern whatever.[280] Nevertheless the Society kept up its foreign correspondence, and received addresses from Jacobin Clubs in France.

Another threatening symptom was the attempt to excite discontent among the soldiery. There being then very few barracks, the men were quartered on the public houses; and several petitions were sent to Whitehall by publicans (sometimes even by Corporations), pointing out the many inconveniences of this custom. Thus in the autumn of 1793 the publicans of Winchester complained that they had had to lodge as many as 5,000 men during their passage through that city, besides the Bucks. regiment stationed there, and they begged that barracks might be built. The authorities paid the more heed to these petitions because local malcontents "got at" the soldiery in the taverns, and brought home to them their grievances, namely, poor pay, insufficient allowance for food at its enhanced prices, and the severities of discipline exercised by "effeminate puppies" drawn from aristocratic circles. In particular they circulated a pamphlet—"The Soldiers' Friend: or Considerations on the late pretended Augmentation of the Subsistence of the Private Soldiers"—pointing out the close connection between the officers and "the ruling faction," which "ever must exist while we suffer ourselves to be governed by a faction."

When the war with France unexpectedly lengthened out, the Ministry decided to erect new barracks, accommodating 34,000 men, at a total expense of about £1,400,000. In the debate of 8th April 1796, Fox and General Smith savagely [Pg 170]assailed this proceeding as fatal to English liberty. "Good God!" exclaimed Smith, "is every town to be made a citadel and every village converted into a garrison?" Windham had little difficulty in showing that the old barracks were in general badly situated, and not adapted for cavalry. Buildings for the use of 5,400 horsemen were now erected; and on the whole question he asserted that the men would live more cheaply, and would contract less vicious habits than when lodged in inns. Above all, they would be removed from the sedition-mongers, who now plied them with doctrines destructive alike of loyalty and military discipline. Windham then quoted a phrase from Molière's "Médecin malgré lui": "If I cannot make him dumb, I will make you deaf."[281] The inference was that the inability of the Cabinet to silence malcontents involved the expenditure of £1,400,000 partly in order to stop the ears of the soldiery.

Lord Bacon, in his pregnant aphorisms upon sedition, does not venture on a definition of that indefinable term. Where, indeed, shall one draw the line between justifiable discontent and the inciting of men to lawless and violent acts? We shall notice presently the claim of a Scottish judge that an agitator may have good and upright intentions, and yet, if his words and acts lead to general discontent, he is guilty of sedition and perhaps of high treason. At the other extreme of thought stands the born malcontent. He is generally an idealist, having a keen sense of the miseries of mankind and very imperfect notions as to the difficulty of peacefully and permanently ending them. In times of political excitement the statesman has to deal with large bands of zealots nerved by these irreconcilable principles. It was the misfortune of Pitt that he sought to hold together a nation rent asunder by the doctrines of Burke and Paine. Compromise was out of the question; and yet a British statesman cannot govern unless the majority of the people is ready for compromise. His position becomes untenable if, while upholding the throne, he infuriates all friends of progress; if, when he seeks to remove abuses, he is dubbed a traitor to King, Church, and Constitution. And yet, to abandon his post because of these difficulties is not only cowardly, but also an act of disloyalty alike to King and people.

As the political thermometer rose towards fever point through the years 1792–3, Government kept closer watch upon the political[Pg 171] Societies; but for a long time Pitt took no action against them. It seems probable that, if they had confined themselves to their professed programme (that of the Westminster Reformers of 1780) he would have remained passive. He did not prosecute those which in November 1792 congratulated the French Convention on the triumph of its arms in Belgium and the advent of a Gallic millennium. What, then, were the developments which met with his stern opposition?

But, firstly, we must ask the question, Why did not Pitt, in view of the unswerving loyalty of the great majority of Britons, rely on the good sense and weight of that mass to overbear the Jacobinical minority? It is much to be regretted that he did not take that more intelligent and more courageous course. But the events of the French Revolution seemed to show the need of early taking decided measures against a resolute and desperate group. At half a dozen crises in the years 1789–92 firm action would have crushed the anarchic forces in Paris, Lyons, and Marseilles; but, for lack of a strong guiding hand, those forces broke loose, with results which all genuine friends of liberty have ever since deplored. It is perfectly certain that, if Mirabeau had had a free hand, he would have used coercive measures by the side of which those of Pitt's so-called "Reign of Terror" would have been but as a pop-gun to a cannon. Besides, to taunt Pitt with falseness to his principles of the years 1782–5 is to ignore the patent facts that he advocated very moderate changes in the representation. The Reform movement virtually collapsed in 1785. That which now borrowed its watchwords was in the main a Republican and levelling agency. The creed of the Radicals of 1793 was summed up, not in the academic programme of the Friends of the People, the lineal heir to the earlier Associations, but in Part II of Paine's "Rights of Man."

Here, surely, are the reasons for Pitt's repressive policy. He entered on it regretfully, but he felt no sense of inconsistency in his change of attitude towards Reform. The times had wholly changed; and that movement changed with them. As Macaulay has well pointed out, Pitt never declared that, under no circumstances, would he favour a moderate Reform of Parliament. But he did declare that in his view Reform was at present highly perilous; and he resolutely set himself to the task of coercing those men and those agencies who advocated it in dangerous forms and by lawless methods.

The first prosecution that need be noticed here was directed against Paine for the seditious utterances in the "Rights of Man," particularly in Part II. The Attorney-General made out a formidable indictment, whereupon Paine, then a member of the French National Convention, informed him that the prosecution might as well be directed against the man in the moon, and that the liberties of the people of England were in reality on their trial. After this impertinence the sentence went against Paine by default, and that, too, despite a skilful speech by Erskine (December 1792). The aim of Government of course was to warn those who were circulating Paine's works that their conduct was seditious and that they did so at their peril.

The Home Office Archives show that in very many cases the warning was disregarded, and several prosecutions ensued, with varying results. Still more frequent were the cases of cursing the King, sometimes in obscene terms. To these we need pay no heed. Frequently the offence was committed in taverns by democrats in a state of mental exaltation. To this exciting cause we may probably ascribe the folly of John Frost, the attorney with whom Pitt had some dealings during the Reform agitation of 1782. He was now charged with exclaiming excitedly: "I am for equality"; and, when challenged as to the meaning of his words, he added: "There ought to be no Kings." In this connection it should be remembered that Frost and Barlow had on 28th November 1792 presented to the French National Convention the most mischievous of all the addresses sent by Radical Clubs to that body. It ended with the statement that other nations would soon imitate France (that is by overthrowing the monarchy) and would "arm themselves for the purpose of claiming the Rights of Man."[282] This piece of bravado must have told against Frost at the trial; for it proved that amidst his potations at the tavern he spoke his real mind. Erskine did his best to defend Frost by quoting Pitt's letters to him of May 1782, on the subject of Reform.[283] The device was clever; but obviously Pitt's association with Frost for strictly constitutional purposes in 1782 could not excuse the seditious language of the latter under wholly different conditions eleven years later. Frost was condemned to six months' imprisonment in Newgate [Pg 173]and was struck off the roll of attorneys.[284] Other noteworthy trials ensued, notably that of the "Morning Chronicle" newspaper, which ended in an acquittal; but it will be well now to turn to the important developments taking place north of the Tweed.

Scotland had now thrown off the trance under which she had lain since 1745; and her chief towns bade fair to outbid London, Leeds, Sheffield, and Norwich as centres of democratic activity. There was every reason why she should awake. She had very little influence in Parliament. She returned 45 members as against Cornwall's 44; while the total number of persons entitled to vote for the fifteen representatives of the Scottish burghs was 1,303,[285] a number smaller than that of the electors of the city of Westminster. This singular system was defended chiefly on the ground of the turbulence of the national character. Even in 1831 a Scottish member declared that Scots could never assemble without drawing blood; and one of their champions, Lord Cockburn, made the quaint admission: "The Scots are bad mobbers. They are too serious at it. They never joke, and they throw stones." It did not occur to that generation that the cure for this bloodthirsty seriousness was frequent public meetings, not no meetings at all. That a high-spirited people should so long have remained in political childhood seems incredible, until we remember that a borough election like that of Westminster was absolutely unknown in the whole course of Scottish history. Further, it was notorious that the 45 Scottish members were the most obedient group of placemen in the House of Commons; and their docility had increased under the bountiful sway of Henry Dundas, whose control of patronage sufficed to keep the Caledonian squad close to heel.

This political apathy was now to end. The men of Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Dundee began to discuss the "Rights of Man," and to follow the lead given by the London Corresponding Society. Thus, on 3rd October 1792, Lieutenant-Colonel William Dalrymple presided over the first meeting of "The Associated Friends of the Constitution and of the People," held at Glasgow. Resolutions were passed in favour of an equal representation of the people in Parliament, shorter Parliaments, and co-operation [Pg 174]with "the Friends of the People" in London. The entrance and annual subscriptions were fixed at sixpence and one shilling. Thomas Muir of Huntershill, an able young advocate, was appointed Vice-President. Other Societies were soon formed, and on 11th December there assembled at Edinburgh a General Convention of Delegates from the Societies of the Friends of the People throughout Scotland. Its proceedings were orderly, beginning and ending with prayer. Resolutions were passed deprecating violence whether in language or action; and the presence either of Lord Daer or Colonel Dalrymple in the chair showed that some, at least, of the gentry were for Reform. This was exceptional. A little later the gentlemen of several towns and counties asserted their loyalty in flamboyant petitions; and the farmers of Dalkeith district at their meeting added to their loyal toasts the following: "May we have no fox in our fold or greys (wild oats) in our corn."[286] Sir Kenneth Mackenzie on 3rd January 1793 informed William Pulteney that in the North the towns were thoroughly loyal, with the exception of Perth and Dundee, where certain ministers and writers led the people astray.[287]

Nevertheless, the authorities, notably the Lord Advocate, Robert Dundas, took alarm; and on 2nd January 1793 Thomas Muir was brought before the deputy-sheriff of Midlothian. Muir was a man of highly interesting personality. The son of a Glasgow tradesman, he had shown marked abilities at school and at the University, whence, owing to his advanced opinions, he was forced to migrate to Edinburgh. There, in his twenty-seventh year, he soon became a leader of the Scottish Reformers, his sincerity, eloquence, and enthusiasm everywhere arousing keen interest. Had his good sense been equal to his abilities, he might have gone far; but events soon showed him to be tactless and headstrong. He went far beyond the rest of the delegates assembled at Edinburgh, namely, in bringing forward, despite the reluctance of the Convention, an Address from the Society of United Irishmen in Dublin. Their conduct much alarmed the authorities at Dublin Castle, who adopted stringent precautions. Muir should therefore have seen, what his colleagues did see, that any plan of co-operation was certain to irritate Government. Nevertheless he persisted in bringing before the [Pg 175]Convention the Irish Address, which strongly pointed out the need of common action in the struggle for Reform and urged both peoples to persevere "until we have planted the flag of freedom on the summit, and are at once victorious and secure." Further, the authorities accused Muir of circulating Paine's writings and other pamphlets, including "A Dialogue between the Governors and the Governed," which contained such sentences as these: "The law is the general will—a new order." "Nations cannot revolt; tyrants are the only rebels." "We will live without tyrants, without impostors (priests)."[288] The writings were probably seditious in their tendency;[289] but the evidence that he circulated them was of the flimsiest character.[290]

Unfortunately, Muir left the country, though in no clandestine manner, while legal proceedings were pending. After a short stay in London he proceeded to Paris, in order (as he said at his trial) to try to persuade the French democrats to spare the life of Louis XVI. The credibility of this statement is lessened by the fact that he arrived in Paris only the evening before the King's execution and remained there long after that tragedy.[291] A letter from a Scot in Paris, James Smith, to a friend in Glasgow, which the postal authorities opened, stated that the writer met Muir in a café of the Palais Royal; that Muir did not hear of his indictment till the evening of 8th February, and would return to face his trial, though he was loth to leave France, as he had made "valuable and dear connections." "Mr. Christie advised me," adds the writer, "to make some little proficiency in the language before I begin to think of beginning to do anything."[292] Now, as a clique of Britons in Paris had not long before drunk the toast of "The coming Convention of Great Britain and Ireland," Government naturally connected the efforts of Muir with this republican propaganda. His next doings increased this suspicion. He left France on an American ship which [Pg 176]landed him at Belfast; he stayed there a few days, and landed at Stranraer on 31st July, only to be arrested, along with his books and papers, and sent to Edinburgh.

The ensuing trial, held on 30th and 31st August, aroused intense interest, owing to the eloquence of Muir and the unscrupulous zeal of the Scottish authorities in ensuring his conviction. They packed the jury with men who belonged to a loyal Association; and it is said that the Lord Justice Clerk, McQueen of Braxfield, welcomed one of them with the words: "Come awa', Maister Horner, come awa', and help us to hang ane of thae daamed scoondrels." The trial itself bristled with irregularities; and Muir, who rejected the proffered help of Erskine and conducted his own defence, fastened on them so effectively, that at the conclusion of his final speech the Court resounded with applause. All was in vain. The jury found him guilty, whereupon the Court of Justiciary pronounced sentence of transportation for fourteen years.[293]

Admiration of the virtues and courage of Muir must not blind us to the fact that his conduct had been most provocative. His visit to Paris, on the scarcely credible pretext that he went thither to save the King's life, his connection with the United Irishmen, and his stay in Belfast, told against him. Robert Dundas, in informing his uncle, Henry Dundas, of his arrest, added: "I have little doubt that, tho' he avows his intention of coming home to have been a view to stand trial, [that] he is an emissary from France or the disaffected in Ireland."[294] The Scot who first advocated common action with the Irish malcontents should have paid good heed to his steps. Muir did not do so. Accordingly, though the direct evidence at the trial told in his favour, the circumstantial evidence weighed heavily against him.[295] At such a time men's actions count for more than their words. It was the visit to Paris and the dealings with the United Irishmen, far more than biassed witnesses and the bullying of Braxfield, which led to the condemnation of this talented youth. For his [Pg 177]arrest occurred at the time when terror was the order of the day at Paris, and when the issue of an inflammatory address at Dundee spread panic in official circles.

Before adverting to this matter, we may note that Muir settled down by no means unhappily at Sydney, and bought a farm which he named Huntershill, after his birthplace. It is now a suburb of Sydney. A letter from the infant settlement, published in the "Gentleman's Magazine" of March 1797, describes him and the other Scottish "martyrs"—Skirving, Margarot, and Gerrald—as treated indulgently by the authorities, who allotted to them convicts to till their lands. Shortly afterwards Muir escaped, and, after exciting experiences, in which he was wounded, made his way to France. In Paris, early in 1798, he published some articles on the United Irishmen, which Wolfe Tone and other Irish patriots deemed most harmful to their cause. They therefore remonstrated with him, but received the reply that he knew Ireland as well as they did, and had the confidence of the United Irishmen as much as they had. Wolfe Tone says of him: "Of all the vain obstinate blockheads that ever I met I never saw his equal."[296] Fortunately for his associates, Muir retired into the provinces and died in the year 1799.

Dundee played a leading part in the democratic agitation. Its population, consisting largely of poor weavers, suffered severely in the year 1793 from dearness of food and scarcity of fuel. On this mass of needy operatives the doctrines of Paine fell like a spark on tinder. Dundee became the chief focus of discontent in Scotland. A Tree of Liberty was planted in Belmont Grounds; bread riots were of frequent occurrence; and Dundas was burnt in effigy. In the Home Office Archives is a statement that a local tradesman named Wyllie generously supplied the waistcoat and breeches: "they was of satin."[297] In July 1793 there appeared an "Address to the People," dated "Berean Meeting House, Dundee," which painted the Government in the darkest colours, and contained these assertions: "You are plunged into war by a wicked Ministry and a compliant Parliament, who seem careless and unconcerned for your interest, the end and design of which is almost too horrid to relate, the destruction of a whole people merely because they will be free.... Your treasure is wasting fast: the blood of your brethren is pouring out, and all this to form chains for a free people and eventually [Pg 178]to rivet them on yourselves." On 1st August 1793 a Government agent found the MS. from which this placard was printed in the house of a liquor-seller in Edinburgh. It was in the writing of a minister, Palmer: so were two letters referring to it.[298] Robert Dundas therefore sent to have Palmer arrested. In mentioning this fact to Henry Dundas, he added that Palmer was "the most dangerous rebel in Scotland." It transpired in the course of the trial that the address was originally written by a weaver named Mealmaker, and that Palmer re-wrote it, toning down some expressions which he thought too strong. Mealmaker was a witness at the trial, but was not allowed directly to incriminate himself. The authorities preferred to strike at Palmer, a man of parts, educated at Eton and Cambridge, who latterly had officiated as Unitarian Minister at Montrose and Dundee. Doubtless these facts as well as his association with the Scottish Friends of Liberty brought on him a sentence of five years' transportation.[299]

If the authorities hoped to crush the Scottish movement by these severities they were disappointed; for it throve on them. A spy, "J. B.," who regularly supplied Robert Dundas with reports about the Edinburgh club, wrote on 14th September 1793 that the sentence on Palmer had given new life to the Association; for, after a time of decline in the early summer, more than 200 now attended its meetings. On 28th October he stated that nearly all the Scottish clubs had revived. Dunlop, Lord Provost of Glasgow, also declared that discontent made progress every day; that the soldiery were corrupted, and that there was an urgent need of barracks.[300] Indignation also ran high at London. Evan Nepean wrote to Robert Dundas: "There is a devil of a stir here about Muir and Palmer." Braxfield's address to the jury was thus parodied in the "Morning Chronicle" of 4th March 1794:

I am bound by the law, while I sit in this place,
To say in plain terms what I think of this case.
My opinion is this, and you're bound to pursue it,
The defendants are guilty, and I'll make them rue it.

Nevertheless, as another Convention had met at Edinburgh, Robert Dundas wrote to his uncle on 2nd November 1793 strongly deprecating any mitigation of the sentences. It was therefore in vain that the Earl of Lauderdale, Grey, and Sheridan interviewed the Home Secretary and pointed out that the offence of "leasing-making," or verbal sedition, was punishable in Scots law only with banishment, not with forcible detention at the Antipodes.[301] Henry Dundas informed his nephew on 16th November that he would refer the whole question back to the Court of Justiciary, and if it defended the verdict "scientifically" and in full detail, he would "carry the sentence into execution and meet the clamour in Parliament without any kind of dismay."[302] Braxfield and his colleagues defended their conduct in an exhaustive treatise on "leasing-making," which the curious may read in the Home Office Archives.

What was the attitude of Pitt towards these events? Ultimately he was responsible for these unjust and vindictive sentences; and it is a poor excuse to urge that he gave Dundas a free hand in Scottish affairs. Still, it is unquestionable that the initiative lay with the two Dundases. If any Englishman exerted influence on the sentences it was the Lord Chancellor, Loughborough.[303] He treated with contempt the motion of Earl Stanhope on 31st January 1794 for an examination into the case of Muir, when the Earl found himself in the position which he so much coveted—a minority of one. On the cases of Muir and Palmer coming before the Commons (10th March), Pitt upheld the Scottish Court of Justiciary in what was perhaps the worst speech of his whole career. He defended even the careful selection of jurymen hostile to Muir on the curious plea that though they were declared loyalists, yet they might be impartial as jurymen. He further denied that there had been any miscarriage of justice, or that the sentence on the "daring delinquents" needed revision. And these excuses for biassed and vindictive sentences were urged after Fox had uttered a noble and manly plea for justice, not for mercy. Grey bitterly declared that Muir was to be sent for fourteen years to Sydney for the offence of pleading for Reform, which Pitt and the Duke of Richmond advocated twelve [Pg 180]years before. They sat in the King's Cabinet: Muir was sent to herd with felons. This taunt flew wide of the mark. Pitt in his motions for Reform had always made it clear that, while desirous of "a moderate and substantial Reform," he utterly repudiated universal suffrage. If those were his views in 1782–5, how could he accept the Radical programme now that it included the absurd demand for annual Parliaments? None the less Pitt was answerable for the action of the Home Minister in referring the sentences back to the judges who inflicted them—a course of conduct at once cowardly and farcical. Pitt's speech also proves him to have known of the irregularities that disgraced the trials. But he, a lawyer, condoned them and applauded the harsh and vindictive sentences. In short, he acted as an alarmist, not as a dispenser of justice.

It is easy for us now to descant on the virtues of moderation. But how many men would have held on an even course when the guillotine worked its fell work in France, when the Goddess of Reason was enthroned in Notre Dame, and when Jacobinism seemed about to sweep over the Continent? Here, as at so many points, France proved to be the worst foe to ordered liberty. Robespierre and Hébert were the men who assured the doom of Muir and Palmer. A trivial incident will suffice to illustrate the alarm of Englishmen at the assembly of a British Convention. In December 1793 Drane, the mayor of Reading, reported to his neighbour Addington (Speaker of the House of Commons) that the "infamous Tom Paine" and a member of the French Convention had been overheard conversing in French in a public-house. Their talk turned on a proposed visit to the British Convention then sitting in Edinburgh. At once Addington sent for a warrant from the Home Office, while the mayor urged his informant to hunt the miscreants down. The machinery of the law was set in motion. A search was instituted; the warrant came down from Whitehall; and not until the sum of fourteen guineas had gone to the informant for his patriotic exertions did the authorities discover that they had been hoaxed.[304]

The Edinburgh Convention, consisting of delegates of forty-five Reform Societies, seems to have pursued dully decorous methods until 6th November, when citizens Hamilton Rowan and Simon Butler came to represent Ireland; Joseph Gerrald [Pg 181]and Maurice Margarot were the delegates from the London Corresponding Society; and Sinclair and York from the Society for Constitutional Information which met at the Crown and Anchor. A Convention of English Societies assembled at London about the same time, and deputed the four delegates to join the Edinburgh body and form a British Convention.[305] Accordingly, on 19th November, it took the title, "British Convention of Delegates of the People, associated to obtain Universal Suffrage and Annual Parliaments." The statement of Margarot, that the London police sought to prevent his journey to Edinburgh, should have been a warning to members to measure their words well. Unfortunately, Margarot, a vain hot-headed fellow, at once began to boast of the importance of the Radical Societies; though fluctuating in number, they were numerous in London; there were thirty of them in Norwich; and in the Sheffield district their members numbered 50,000. "If," he added, "we could get a Convention of England and Scotland called, we might represent six or seven hundred thousand males, which is a majority of all the adults of the Kingdom; and the Ministry would not dare to refuse our rights."[306] Butler then declared that Belfast was in a state of veiled rebellion; Gerrald, the ablest and best educated of the delegates, also scoffed at the old party system, and said, "party is ever a bird of prey, and the people their banquet." On 19th November a delegate from Sheffield, M. C. Brown, moved that the next British Convention should meet near the borders of England and Scotland. Thereupon Gerrald proposed that York should be chosen, despite its ecclesiastical surroundings; for (said he), "as the Saviour of the world was often found in the company of sinners, let us go there for the same gracious purpose, to convert to repentance."[307]

All this was but the prelude to more serious work. On 26th–28th November the Convention declared it to be the duty of citizens to resist any law, similar to that lately passed in Dublin, for preventing the assembly of a Convention in Great Britain; and the delegates resolved to prepare to summon a Convention if the following emergencies should arise—an invasion, the landing of Hanoverian troops, the passing of a Convention[Pg 182] Act, or the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act. These defiant resolutions were proposed by Sinclair; and, as he afterwards became a Government informer, they were probably intended to lure the Convention away from its proper business into seditious ways. However that may be, the delegates solemnly assented to these resolutions.

Scotsmen will notice alike with pride and indignation that the delegates of the Societies north of the Tweed adhered to their main purpose, Parliamentary Reform, until, under the lead of the men of London, Sheffield, and Dublin, debates became almost Parisian in vehemence. As reported in the "Edinburgh Gazetteer" of 3rd December, they gave Robert Dundas the wished-for handle of attack. Then and there he decided to disperse the Convention, so he informed Henry Dundas in the following letter of 6th December: "Last Tuesday's '[Edinburgh] Gazetteer,' containing a further account of the proceedings of the Convention appeared to the Solicitor and me so strong that we agreed to take notice of them. The proper warrants were accordingly made, and early yesterday morning put in execution against Margarot, Gerrald, Callender, Skirving, and one or two others, and with such effect that we have secured all their Minutes and papers. Their conduct has excited universal detestation."[308] The expulsion took place quite peaceably. The Lord Provost informed the delegates that it was not their meeting, but their publications, that led him to intervene. The Chairman, Paterson, thereupon "skulked off"; but Brown, the Sheffield delegate, took the chair, and declared that he would not quit it save under compulsion. The Lord Provost and constables then pulled him down; and the meeting was adjourned. Events ran the same course on the morrow, save that the chairman, Gerrald, was allowed to wind up the proceedings with prayer before he was pulled down. Thus ended the first British Convention.

The natural sequel was a trial of the leaders, Sinclair, Margarot, Gerrald, and Skirving. Sinclair turned informer, whereupon his indictment was allowed to lapse. The others were charged with attending the meetings of the Convention which, "under the pretence of procuring a Reform of Parliament, were evidently of a dangerous and destructive tendency," modelled on those of the French Convention and with the like aims [Pg 183]in view. The charge was held to be proven, and they were severally sentenced to transportation for fourteen years. The cases aroused keen interest, in part owing to the novel claims put forward by the prosecutor and endorsed by the Judges. The Lord Advocate argued that these men, in claiming to represent a majority of the people, were in reality planning a revolt; and Lord Justice Clerk finally declared that the crime of sedition consisted "in endeavouring to create a dissatisfaction in the country, which nobody can tell where it will end. It will very naturally end in overt rebellion; if it has that tendency, though not in the mind of the parties at the time, yet, if they have been guilty of poisoning the minds of the lieges, I apprehend that that will constitute the crime of sedition to all intents and purposes."[309]

To find a parallel to this monstrous claim, that sedition may be unintentional and may consist in some action which the Government judges by its results, one would have to hark back to the days of Judge Jeffreys, whom indeed McQueen of Braxfield resembled in ferocity, cunning, and effrontery. The insolence of Margarot at the bar to some extent excused the chief judge for the exhibition of the same conduct on the bench. But in the case of Gerrald, an English gentleman of refined character and faultless demeanour, the brutalities of Braxfield aroused universal loathing. In one respect Gerrald committed an imprudence. He appeared in the dock, not in a wig, but displaying a shock of dishevelled hair, a sign of French and republican sympathies which seemed a defiance to the Court. Nevertheless, his speech in his own defence moved to its depths the mind of a young poet who had tramped all the way from Glasgow in the bleak March weather in order to hear the trial. At the end of the speech young Campbell turned to his neighbour, a humble tradesman, and said: "By heavens, Sir, that is a great man"; to which there came the reply: "Yes, Sir, he is not only a great man himself, but he makes every other man feel great who listens to him."

In truth, the Scottish trials were a moral defeat for Pitt and his colleagues. Sympathy with the prisoners and detestation of the judges aroused a general outcry, which became furious when Braxfield declared that he had no idea that his sentence of transportation involved servitude and hard labour.[310] The assertion implies[Pg 184] an incredible ignorance in the man who had packed the juries and sought to get his victims hanged. It may be regarded as a cunning and cowardly attempt to shift part of the odium on to the Government. Certainly the prestige of the Cabinet now fell to zero. Ministers were held responsible for Braxfield's wanton vagaries, and were accused of luring English democrats into the meshes of the Scottish law. This last charge is absurd. As we have seen, the London police sought to stop Margarot, Sinclair, and Gerrald from going to Edinburgh. It was their presence and that of the Irishmen which gave to the Convention almost a national character, and placed it in rivalry to Parliament. Their speeches were by far the most provocative. Finally, as the letter quoted above shows, the initiative in arresting the delegates was taken by Robert Dundas and the Scottish Solicitor-General. On 11th December Henry Dundas wrote to his nephew: "You get great credit here [London] for your attack on the Convention."[311]

Far different was the comment of the London Corresponding Society. On 20th January 1794 that body convened a great meeting which passed protests against the war, the expulsion of the British Convention, and the arrest of delegates. It also resolved that the general committee should sit permanently throughout the ensuing session. Further, that if the Government attacked the liberties of the people in the ways described above, the committee should call "a General Convention of the People for taking such measures under their consideration."[312] Equally threatening were the resolutions of the Constitutional Society of London.[313] Pitt resolved to take up the gauntlet flung down by these two powerful Societies. On 24th February 1794 Eaton, a publisher of Newgate Street, was tried for publishing in his periodical pamphlet, "Politics for the People: or Hogs-wash," a little parable with which that witty lecturer, Thelwall, had delighted a debating society. He told how a gamecock, resplendent with ermine-spotted breast, and crown or cockscomb, lorded it greedily over all the fowls of the farmyard.[314] The parallel to George III was sufficiently close to agitate the official mind; but the jury gave an open verdict, which implied that the King was not hinted at.

The next prosecution, that of Thomas Walker, of Manchester, and six others broke down in a way highly discreditable to the authorities. Walker's services to the cause of Reform had, as we have seen, been conspicuous alike in energy and moderation, and his enemies in the Church and King Club made great exertions in order to procure a conviction. The archives of the Home Office throw a sinister light on their methods. A magistrate of Manchester, the Rev. John Griffith, informed the Home Secretary that Booth, a man who was imprisoned in June 1793 for seditious practices, made a declaration against Thomas Walker and McCullum, members of the local Constitutional Society. According to Booth, McCullum had said: "Petitioning Parliament be d——d. You may as well petition the devil to reform himself. The only way is for each Society to send a number of delegates to a certain place, and there declare themselves the Representatives of the People and support themselves as such." Thomas Walker had also said that each member must have a musket, for they would soon want them.[315] But it transpired in the trial of Walker, McCullum, and others that Griffith had let Booth see that he wanted to incriminate Walker. He not only offered Booth his pardon for such evidence, but left him alone with Dunn, a malicious perjurer, the falsity of whose charges against Walker was convincingly demonstrated.[316] The case proves how far an unscrupulous magistrate could succeed in getting charges trumped up against an innocent man who opposed him in politics. Doubtless in other cases personal spite, or the desire of a reward, led to the offer of false charges; and the student who peruses the Home Office archives needs to remember the Greek caution, μέμνησθ' ἀπιστεῖν, as much as if he were perusing French Memoirs.

It is therefore with much doubt that one reads the declaration of a Sheffield magistrate, in May 1794, that there was in that town "a most horrid conspiracy against State and Church under the pretence of Reform." A vast number of pikes and spears had been made and "cats" to throw in the road to lame the horses. 2nd July was fixed for the storming of the barracks and [Pg 186]town. "It is a mercy the plot is discovered. I am to be all night in the search." More detailed is the deposition of a magistrate of Sheffield, James Wilkinson, that a democrat named Widdison had made several pikes and sold twelve to Gales, a well-known Jacobinical printer. Further, that a witness, William Green, swore that a man named Jackson had employed him and others to make spear-heads; they made twelve dozen or more in two days, and the heads were sent to the lodgings of Hill and Jackson. Wilkinson wrote for instructions how to deal with these men; also for a warrant to arrest Gales. On 20th May Dundas sent down warrants for the arrest of Gales, W. Carnage, H. Yorke (alias Redhead), W. Broomhead, R. Moody, and T. Humphreys; he also issued a warrant against Williams, a gun-engraver, of the Tower, in London.[317]

In Birmingham, as we have seen, the two magistrates, Carles and Spencer, were out and out loyalists; and, as they wrote to Dundas on 23rd May 1794 that there was not enough evidence to warrant a search for arms, we may infer that the Midland capital caused the authorities less concern than rebellious Sheffield. But even at Birmingham, with its traditions of exuberant loyalty, there were grounds for concern. John Brook, the mayor, informed Dundas that there were many malcontents in the neighbourhood, especially at Dudley.

Turning to the East, we find signs that Norwich seethed with discontent. From that city had come the first suggestion of a General Convention of the People. On 5th March 1793 one of the thirty Societies of Norwich wrote up to the London Corresponding Society advocating that step, which Hardy and his colleagues approved "so soon as the great body of the people shall be courageous and virtuous enough to join us in the attempt." I have found no proof that either at Norwich or in London these Societies used illegal methods. The seditious placards posted up at Norwich may have been the work of some fanatic or of an agent provocateur. But it is very doubtful whether the holding of a People's Convention in the manner proposed was not an act of defiance to Parliament, and therefore seditious. Individual members certainly came within the ban of the law. Thus, Dundas received tidings that two members of Hardy's Society, named Stone and Meakins, were circulating [Pg 187]seditious writings in Essex. When arrested they had with them one or two military books, copies of the revolutionary song, Ça ira, and similar papers;[318] but this fact does not incriminate the Society at large. In fact, the reports as to the purchase of arms and secret drillings are not very convincing. To take a few instances: information was sent to the Home Office that a man named Kitchen had sixty pikes in his house in George Street, near York Buildings; also that men were drilled secretly at the house of Spence, a seller of seditious pamphlets in the Little Turnstile, Holborn, and at that of Shelmerdine, a small tradesman of Southwark; the arms in the last case were bought from Williams, of the Tower, with a sum of £10 contributed by "a desperate tailor of China Walk, Lambeth."[319] Did patriotism or private spite or greed of money incite these reports? Drawings of pikes and spear-heads also diversified the report of the Secret Committee of the Lords appointed to investigate seditious proceedings, and probably convinced lovers of realism that plots actually existed.

More alarming in reality were the preparations for a General Convention of the People. The authorities knew that plans were actually on foot for sending delegates to form such a body. On 27th March 1794 the London Corresponding Society consulted the sister club on this question; and in due course delegates from the two Societies passed resolutions in favour of the scheme. Hardy thereupon sent a printed letter round to similar bodies, probably early in the month of April 1794. It ran thus:

Notwithstanding the unparalleled audacity of a corrupt and overbearing faction which at present tramples on the rights and liberties of our people, our meetings cannot, in England, be interrupted without the previous adoption of a Convention Bill [320]—a measure it is our duty to anticipate.... Let us then form another British Convention. We have a central situation in our view, which we believe would be most convenient for the whole island, but which we forbear to mention ... till we have the answers of the Societies with which we are in correspondence. Let us have your answer, then, by the 20th at farthest, [Pg 188]earlier if possible, whether you approve of the measure and how many delegates you can send, with the number also, if possible, of your Societies.

PS. We have appointed a Secret Committee on this. Will you do the same?[321]

In order to further the scheme, the London Corresponding Society held a meeting on 14th April at Chalk Farm, when an ardent appeal was read from Hardy to resist the encroachments on liberty recently made by "apostate reformers"—a fling at Pitt. "Are they alone," he asked, "to judge of the fit time for Reform?" The meeting then thanked Earl Stanhope for his manly and successful opposition to the attempt to bring Hanoverian and Hessian troops into England; it also condemned the late rapid advances of despotism and the arming one part of the people against the other. Finally it declared that in cases of necessity the safety of the people was the only law. We may here note that a few Hanoverian and Hessian battalions had been landed in Hampshire, as a temporary measure, previous to their transference to other ships. This occasioned some clamour at Westminster, Grey, Fox, Sheridan and others claiming that the liberties of England were in the direst danger. Pitt refused to accept a Bill of Indemnity for his action, and the House supported him by a great majority.[322]

The other reference at the Chalk Farm meeting was to the proposal to sanction the subscriptions to the Volunteer forces now being raised in various counties.[323] At the outset this noble movement had in view the defence of the constitution no less than of the land; and this doubtless accounts for the fact that Coke, Mingay, and other Norfolk Whigs struggled desperately and successfully to break up a county meeting held at Norwich for this purpose on 12th April, shouting down even so able a speaker as Windham. In general, however, these meetings were an immense success. That at Aylesbury realized £5,851 for a county corps; and one at Epsom, for Surrey, brought in nearly double as much.[324] Most noteworthy of all these meetings was one of 19th April 1794 at Birmingham, where loyal sentiments crystalized in a rhetorical jewel of rare lustre. The "Loyal [Pg 189]True Blues" of Birmingham, in view of the threats of the French "to insult the chalky cliffs of Albion and to plant in this island their accursed tree of liberty, more baneful in its effects than the poisonous tree of Java which desolates the country and corrupts the winds of heaven," resolved to quit the field of argument and to take arms as a Military Association. For nothing could be so effective as "the decided and awful plan of the whole Nation rising in a mass of Volunteers, determined to dispute every inch of ground with their daring aggressors and to spill the last drop of their blood in defence of their religion and their laws." They beg Edward Carver to command them; they will choose their uniform, will arrange themselves as grenadiers and light infantry; and, "to preserve the coup d'œil, the whole corps will be arranged with the strictest attention to the height of the members."[325] Possibly the Royalists of Birmingham may have known of the hint conveyed in Hardy's letter, that the National Convention should assemble in some convenient centre, a phrase which seemed to point to their town, which, indeed, the Chartists chose for that purpose in 1839.

In view of the fervent loyalty manifested on all sides, Ministers might surely have trusted to the majority to control the restless minority. Auckland expressed the general opinion when he said that the country in the proportion of ten to one was sound and loyal.[326] As the majority was armed, while the malcontents had but small stores of pikes, there was little cause for fear, though in the minority were some desperate men. In particular, Richard Davison, a prominent member of the Sheffield Constitutional Society, recommended the clubs of London and Norwich to buy consignments of pikes in order to resist the "newly-armed minions of the bare-faced aristocracy of the present Administration"; and it afterwards appeared that he could sell them at twenty pence each.[327] This letter was sent off on 24th April, 1794, seventeen days after the holding of a mass meeting on Castle Hill, Sheffield, at which the chairman, Henry Yorke (alias Redhead), declared that, when the sun of Reason shone in its fullest meridian, the people would turn out the 558 gentlemen from Westminster. The meeting resolved that, as the people ought to demand universal suffrage as a right, and not petition for it as a favour, they would never again petition the [Pg 190]House of Commons on this subject.[328] Contemptuous epithets were now constantly hurled at Parliament. On 2nd May, that genial toper, Horne Tooke, of Wimbledon, declared at a dinner of the Constitutional Society in London that Parliament was a scoundrel sink of corruption, and that the scoundrel Opposition joined the scoundrel Government in order to destroy the rights of Englishmen. In order to add weight to his epithets he called the company to witness to his complete sobriety.[329]

Pitt and his colleagues now decided to strike at the leaders who were planning a British Convention. Of these the most formidable was the Secretary of the London Corresponding Society. Accordingly, early on 12th May, some Bow Street officers made their way into Hardy's shop, No. 9, Piccadilly, arrested him, seized his papers, ransacking the room where Mrs. Hardy was in bed. The shock to her nerves was such as to bring on premature child-birth with fatal results. On the same day a royal message came to Parliament announcing that the efforts of certain Societies to summon a Convention in defiance of Parliament had led him to order the seizure of their books and papers. Those of the Corresponding and Constitutional Societies were brought, sealed up, to the House of Commons on the morrow, whereupon Pitt moved for the appointment of a secret committee to examine them. He himself, Dundas, and nineteen other members soon drew up the Report. When presented on 16th May, it contained a statement of all the threatening symptoms of the time, and so far ignored the legal efforts of those Societies as to form a very alarming diagnosis.[330]

The fears of Ministers were further aroused by the contents of a letter from the Rev. Jeremiah Joyce (tutor of Earl Stanhope's son) to Horne Tooke, which the Post Office had seized. It announced the arrest of citizen Hardy, and ended thus: "Query: is it possible to get ready by Thursday?"[331] Some effort of the imagination was needed to figure the Silenus of the literary world as a plotter against the lives of Ministers. But they now decided to arrest him and the Reverend Jeremiah, as well as Bonney, Richter, and Kyd, also members of the Constitutional [Pg 191]Society, besides Camage and one or two other democrats of Sheffield. Davison, the would-be seller of pikes, had fled betimes.

These were the circumstances which induced Pitt to propose the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act (16th May). The Report of the Secret Committee having been read, he proceeded to exaggerate the import of the more threatening parts of the evidence, and to convince the House that these Societies, which had congratulated the French Convention, and still aped its methods, were plotting to set up an authority openly hostile to Parliament. With all the force of his oratory he pictured the state of things that must ensue—"an enormous torrent of insurrection, which would sweep away all the barriers of government, law and religion, and leave our country a naked waste for usurped authority to range in, uncontrolled and unresisted." Despite the warning of Fox that the remedy now proposed was worse than the evil which it sought to avert; despite the pleas of Grey and Sheridan against indecent haste in hurrying on this arbitrary measure, it was forced through every stage in the Commons at that single sitting; finally, at half-past three in the morning, the numbers of the Whig protestors sank to 13, while the Ministerialists still mustered 108 strong.[332]

This collapse of the Opposition was due to a sharp cleavage in its ranks on the vital issues now at stake. As has already appeared, Pitt had consulted the Duke of Portland and his immediate followers on subjects affecting public order. Some of the Old Whigs, notably Windham, served on the Committee of Secrecy; and the evidence there forthcoming led them to propose a general support of Government both in its war policy and the maintenance of order. Those eager Royalists, Burke and Windham, took the lead in proposing an alliance with the Ministry. The question arose whether the Old Whigs should support from outside or actually coalesce with the Ministry, taking their fair share of power. Burke strongly advised the latter course as the only means of assuring continued and strenuous support. This opened a sluice gate of correspondence, resulting in important changes in the Cabinet. I shall refer to this matter later, merely noting here that the Duke of Portland took over from Dundas the Home Office, which was thenceforth limited to British and Irish affairs, Dundas becoming Secretary of State for War, and [Pg 192]Windham Secretary at War. The changes were most opportune; for they strengthened the administrative machine and served to build up a national party strong enough to cope with the growing difficulties of the time. Thenceforth there was no danger of the overthrow of the Ministry. Further, the panic pervading all parts of England in May 1794 was soon allayed by the news of Howe's victory, termed "the glorious First of June"; while in July the fall of Robespierre caused a general sense of relief. In view of these events, Pitt would have done well to relax his efforts against the British Jacobins. He held on his way and encountered sharp rebuffs. The trial of Hardy and others in October dragged on to a great length; and, after hearing an enormous mass of evidence (some of which proved the possession of arms by democrats) the jury returned a verdict of Not Guilty. This result, due to the masterly defence by Erskine and Gibbs, aroused a tumult of joy in the vast crowd outside such as London had rarely seen. Hardy afterwards asserted that, in case of a conviction, Government had decided to arrest about 800 more persons.[333] This is mere hearsay; but it has been fastened upon by those who seek to father upon Pitt the design of reviving the days of Strafford and "Thorough." A fortnight previously Watt, once a government informer, was convicted at Edinburgh of a treasonable plot to set the city on fire, sack the banks, and attack the castle. Before he went to execution he confessed his guilt.[334]

This was the only conviction obtained by Government. The trial of Horne Tooke ran a course unfavourable to Ministers, the evidence for the prosecution being flimsy in the extreme. Pitt himself was called to the witness-box, and when closely cross-questioned by Erskine as to his former connection with the Reform cause, admitted that he was present at a meeting at the Duke of Richmond's residence, at which delegates from county Reform Associations were present. The admission exposed him to the charge of inconsistency in the eyes of those who looked only at the surface of things. In reality, those who met at the Duke of Richmond's house had nothing in common with the democratic clubs which proposed to override the will of Parliament by a National Convention. Yet, as the superficial [Pg 193]view gains a ready assent, the fame of Pitt now underwent an eclipse. Never again did he hear the whole-hearted acclaim which greeted him in the years 1784–90. The roar of delight which went up at th

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1786	£11,867,055
1787	12,923,134
1788	13,007,642
1789	13,433,068
1790	14,072,978

British	2,114
French Royalists	1,542
Spaniards	6,840
Neapolitans	4,832
Sardinians	1,584
	———
	16,912

WILLIAM PITT AND THE GREAT WAR