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A Modern History, From the Time of Luther to the Fall of Napoleon - For the Use of Schools and Colleges
by John Lord
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The public discontents were further inflamed by the information which Dr. Franklin, then in London, afforded the colonies, and the advice he gave them to persevere, assuring them that, if they were firm, they had nothing to apprehend. Moreover, he got into his possession a copy of the letters of Governor Hutchinson to the ministry, which he transmitted to the colonies, and which by them were made public. These letters were considered by the legislature of Massachusetts as unjust and libellous, and his recall was demanded. Resolutions, of an offensive character to the English, were every where passed, and all things indicated an approaching storm. The crisis was at hand. The outrage, in Boston harbor, of throwing overboard three hundred and forty-two chests of tea, which the East India Company had sent to America, consummated the difficulties, and induced the government to resort to more coercive measures.

[Sidenote: Duty on Tea.]

It was in the power of Lord North to terminate the difficulties with the colonies when the East India Company urged him to repeal the duty of threepence per pound on tea, and offered to pay sixpence per pound in lieu of it, as export duty, if permitted to import it into the colonies duty free. The company was induced to make this proposition in view of the great accumulation of tea in England; but the government, more solicitous about the right than the revenue, would not consent. The colonists were equally determined to resist taxation, not on account of immediate burdens, but upon principle, and therefore resolved to prevent the landing of the tea. A multitude rushed to the wharf, and twenty persons, disguised as Indians, went on board the ships laden with it, staved the chests, and threw their contents into the sea. In New York and Philadelphia, as no persons could be found who would venture to receive the tea sent to those ports, the ships laden with it returned to England.

[Sidenote: Port of Boston Closed.]

The ministers of the crown were especially indignant with the province of Massachusetts, which had always been foremost in resistance, and the scene of the greatest disorders, and therefore resolved to block up the port of Boston. Accordingly, in 1774 they introduced a bill to discontinue the lading and shipping of goods, wares, and merchandise at Boston, and to remove the custom-house to Salem. The bill received the general approbation of the House, and passed by a great majority.

No measure could possibly have been more impolitic. A large force should have been immediately sent to the colonies, to coerce them, before they had time to organize sufficient force to resist the mother country, or conciliatory measures should have been adopted. But the House was angry and infatuated, and the voice of wisdom was disregarded.

Soon after, Lord North introduced another bill for the better government of the provinces, which went to subvert the charter of the colony, and to violate all the principles of liberty and justice. By this bill, the nomination of counsellors, judges, sheriffs, and magistrates of all kinds, was vested in the crown; and these were also removable at pleasure. The ministers, in advocating the bill, urged the ground of necessity, the universal spirit of disaffection, which bordered on actual rebellion. The bill was carried, by a majority of two hundred and thirty-nine against sixty-four voices, May 2, 1774.

The next step of the minister was to bring in a bill which provided that, in case any person was indicted in Massachusetts for a capital offence, and that, if it should appear that a fair trial could not be had in the province, the prisoner might be sent to any other colony, or even to Great Britain itself, to be tried. This was insult added to injury, and met with vigorous resistance even in parliament itself. But it nevertheless passed through both Houses.

When intelligence arrived concerning it, and of the other bills, a fire was kindled in the colonies not easily to be extinguished. There was scarcely a place which did not convene its assembly. Popular orators, in the public halls and in the churches, every where inflamed the people by incendiary discourses; organizations were made to abstain from all commerce with the mother country; and measures were adopted to assemble a General Congress, to take into consideration the state of the country. People began to talk of defending their rights by the sword. Every where was heard the sound of the drum and the fife. All were fired by the spirit of liberty. Associations were formed for the purchase of arms and ammunition. Addresses were printed and circulated calling on the people to arm themselves, and resist unlawful encroachment. All proceedings in the courts of justice were suspended. Jurors refused to take their oaths; the reign of law ceased, and that of violence commenced. Governor Gage, who had succeeded Hutchinson, fortified Boston Neck, and cut off the communication of the town with the country.

[Sidenote: Meeting of Congress.]

In the mean time, the Continental Congress met at Philadelphia, in which all the colonies were represented but Georgia. Congress passed resolutions approving the course of Massachusetts, and also a bill called a Declaration of Rights. It sent an address to the king, framed with great ability, in which it discussed the rights of the colonies, complained of the mismanagement of ministers, and besought a redress of the public evils.

[Sidenote: Speech of Burke.]

But this congress was considered by the government of Great Britain as an illegal body, and its petition was disregarded. But the ministers no longer regarded the difficulties as trifling, and sought to remedy them, though not in the right way. The more profound of the English statesmen fully perceived the danger and importance of the crisis, and many of them took the side of liberty. Dean Tucker, who foresaw a long war, with all its expenses, urged, in a masterly treatise, the necessity of giving the Americans, at once, the liberty they sought. Others, who overrated the importance of the colonies in a mercantile view, wished to retain them, but to adopt conciliatory measures. Lord Chatham put forth all the eloquence of which he was such a master, to arouse the ministers. He besought them to withdraw the troops from Boston. He showed the folly of metaphysical refinements about the right of taxation when a continent was in arms. He spoke of the means of enforcing thraldom as inefficient and ridiculous. Lord Camden sustained Chatham in the House of Lords, and declared, not as a philosopher, but as a constitutional lawyer, that England had no right to tax America. Mr. Burke moved a conciliatory measure in the House of Commons, fraught with wisdom and knowledge. "My hold of the colonies," said this great oracle of moral wisdom, "is the close affection which grows from the common names, from the kindred blood, from similar privileges, and from equal protection. These are the ties which, though light as air, are as strong as links of iron. Let the colonies always keep the idea of their civil rights associated with your government; they will cling and grapple with you, and no power under heaven will be able to tear them from their allegiance. But let it once be understood that your government may be one thing, and their privileges another, then the cement is gone, and every thing hastens to dissolution. It is the love of the people, it is their attachment to your government from the sense in the deep stake they have in such glorious institutions, which gives you your army and navy, and infuses into both that liberal obedience without which your army would be but a base rabble, and your navy nothing but rotten timber." But this elevated and sublime wisdom was regarded as a philosophical abstraction, as a vain and impractical view of political affairs, well enough for a writer on the "sublime and beautiful," but absurd in a British statesman. Colonel Barre and Fox supported Burke; but their eloquence had not much effect on the Commons, and the ministry was supported in their measures. The colonies were declared to be in a state of rebellion, and measures were adopted to crush them.

To declare the colonies in a state of rebellion was, in fact, to declare war. And this was perfectly understood by the popular leaders who fanned the spirit of resistance. All ideas of reconciliation now became chimerical. Necessity stimulated the timid, and vengeance excited the bold. It was felt that the people were now to choose between liberty and slavery, and slavery was, of course, regarded as worse than death. "We must look back," said the popular orators, "no more! We must conquer or die! We are placed between altars smoking with the most grateful incense of glory and gratitude on the one part, and blocks and dungeons on the other. Let each, then, rise and gird himself for the conflict. The dearest interests of the world command it; our most holy religion requires it. Let us banish fear, and remember that fortune smiles only on the brave."

Such was the general state of feeling; and there only needed a spark to kindle a conflagration. That spark was kindled at Lexington. General Gage, the governor, having learned that military stores and arms were deposited at Concord, resolved to seize them. His design was suspected, and the people prepared to resist his orders. The alarm bells were rung, and the cannons were fired. The provincial militia assembled, and the English retreated to Lexington. That village witnessed the commencement of a long and sanguinary war. The tide of revolution could no longer be repressed. The colonies were now resolved to achieve their independence.

The Continental Congress met on the 10th of May, 1775, shortly after the first blood had been shed at Lexington, and immediately proceeded to raise an army, establish a paper currency, and to dissolve the compact between Great Britain and the Massachusetts colony. John Hancock was chosen president of the assembly, and George Washington commander-in-chief of the continental army. He accepted the appointment with a modesty only equalled by his merit, and soon after departed for the seat of war. For his associates, Congress appointed Artemas Ward, Charles Lee, Philip Schuyler, and Israel Putnam as major-generals, and Seth Pomeroy, Richard Montgomery, David Wooster, William Heath, Joseph Spencer, John Thomas, John Sullivan, and Nathanael Greene as brigadiers. Horatio Gates received the appointment of adjutant-general, with the rank of brigadier.

[Sidenote: Battle of Bunker Hill.]

On the 17th of June was fought the battle of Bunker Hill, which proved the bravery of the Americans, and which was followed by great moral results. But the Americans unfortunately lost, in this battle, Dr. Warren, who had espoused the cause of revolution with the same spirit that Hampden did in England, and whom he resembled in genius, patriotism, and character. He had been chosen major-general four days before his death, but fought at Bunker Hill as a simple volunteer. On the 2d of July, Washington took command of the army, and established his head-quarters at Cambridge. The American army amounted to seventeen thousand men, of whom twenty-five hundred were unfit for duty. They were assembled on the spur of the occasion, and had but few tents and stores, no clothing, no military chest and no general organization. They were collected from the various provinces and were governed by their own militia laws. Of this material he constructed the first continental army, and under innumerable vexations and difficulties. No man was ever placed in a more embarrassing situation. His troops were raw and undisciplined; and the members of the Continental Congress, from whom he received his commission, were not united among themselves. He had all the responsibility of the war, and yet had not sufficient means to prosecute it with the vigor which the colonies probably anticipated. His success, in the end, was glorious and unequivocal; but none other than he could have secured it, and not he, even, unless he had been sustained by a loftiness of character almost preternatural.

The English forces, at this time, were centred in Boston under the command of General Gage, and were greatly inferior in point of numbers to the American troops who surrounded them. But the troops of Gage were regulars and veterans, and were among the best in the English army. He was recalled in order to give information to the government in reference to the battle of Bunker Hill, and was succeeded in October by General Howe.

[Sidenote: Death of Montgomery.]

The first campaign of the war was signalized by the invasion of Canada by the American troops, with the hope of wresting that province from the English, which was not only disaffected, but which was defended by an inconsiderable force. General Montgomery, with an army of three thousand, advanced to Montreal, which surrendered. The fortresses of Crown Point and Ticonderoga had already been taken by Colonel Ethan Allen. But the person who most distinguished himself in this unfortunate expedition was Colonel Benedict Arnold, who, with a detachment of one thousand men, penetrated through the forests, swamps, and mountains of Maine, beyond the sources of the Kennebec and, in six weeks from his departure at Boston, arrived on the plains of Canada, opposite Quebec. He there effected a junction with the troops of Montgomery, and made an assault on the strongest fortress in America, defended by sixteen hundred men. The attack was unsuccessful, and Montgomery was killed. Arnold did not retire from the province, but remained encamped upon the Heights of Abraham. This enterprise, though a failure, was not without great moral results, since it showed to the English government the singular bravery and intrepidity of the nation it had undertaken to coerce.

The ministry then resolved upon vigorous measures, and, finding a difficulty in raising men, applied to the Landgrave of Hesse for seventeen thousand mercenaries. These, added to twenty-five thousand men enlisted in England, and the troops already sent to America, constituted a force of fifty-five thousand men—deemed amply sufficient to reduce the rebellious colonies. But these were not sent to America until the next year.

In the mean time, General Howe was encamped in Boston with a force, including seamen, of eleven thousand men, and General Washington, with an army of twenty-eight thousand, including militia, was determined to attack him. In February, 1776, he took possession of Dorchester Heights, which command the harbor. General Howe found it expedient to evacuate Boston, and sailed for Halifax with his army, and Washington repaired to Philadelphia to deliberate with Congress.

But Howe retired from Boston only to occupy New York; and when his arrangements were completed, he landed at Staten Island, waiting for the arrival of his brother, Lord Howe, with the expected reinforcements. By the middle of August they had all arrived, and his united forces amounted to twenty-four thousand men. Washington's army, though it nominally numbered twenty thousand five hundred, still was composed of only about eleven thousand effective men, and these imperfectly provided with arms and ammunition. Nevertheless, Washington gave battle to the English; but the result was disastrous to the Americans, owing to the disproportion of the forces engaged. General Howe took possession of Long Island, the Americans evacuated New York, and, shortly after, the city fell into the hands of the English. Washington, with his diminished army, posted himself at Haerlem Heights.

[Sidenote: Declaration of American Independence.]

But before the victory of Howe on Long Island was obtained, Congress had declared the Independence of the American States, (4th July, 1776.) This Declaration of Independence took the English nation by surprise, and firmly united it against the colonies. It was received by the Americans, in every section of the country, with unbounded enthusiasm. Reconciliation was now impossible, and both countries were arrayed against each other in fierce antagonism.

The remainder of the campaign of 1776 was occupied by the belligerents in skirmishing, engagements, marchings and countermarchings, in the states of New York and New Jersey. The latter state was overrun by the English army, and success, on either side, was indecisive. Forts Washington and Lee were captured. General Lee was taken prisoner. The capture of Lee, however, was not so great a calamity as it, at first, seemed; for, though a man of genius and military experience, his ambition, vanity, and love of glory would probably have led to an opposition to his superior officer, and to Congress itself. To compensate for the disasters in New Jersey, Washington, invested with new and extraordinary power by Congress, gained the battles of Princeton and Trenton, which were not only brilliant victories, but were attended by great moral effects, and showed the difficulty of subduing a people determined to be free. "Every one applauded the firmness, the prudence, and the bravery of Washington. All declared him to be the savior of his country; all proclaimed him equal to the most renowned commanders of antiquity, and especially distinguished him by the name of the American Fabius."

The greatness of Washington was seen, not so much by his victories at Princeton and Trenton, or by his masterly retreat before superior forces, as by his admirable prudence and patience during the succeeding winter. He had, for several months, a force which scarcely exceeded fifteen hundred men, and these suffered all manner of hardships and privations. After the first gush of enthusiasm had passed, it was found exceedingly difficult to enlist men, and still more difficult to pay those who had enlisted. Congress, composed of great men, and of undoubted patriotism, on the whole, harmonized with the commander-in-chief, whom, for six months, it invested with almost dictatorial power; still there were some of its members who did not fully appreciate the character or condition of Washington, and threw great difficulties in his way.

[Sidenote: Commissioners Sent to France.]

Congress about this time sent commissioners to France to solicit money and arms. These commissioners were Dr. Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee. They were not immediately successful; for the French king, doubtful of the result of the struggle, did not wish to incur prematurely the hostility of Great Britain; but they induced many to join the American cause, and among others, the young Marquis de La Fayette, who arrived in America in the spring of 1777, and proved a most efficient general, and secured the confidence and love of the nation he assisted.

[Sidenote: Capture of Burgoyne.]

The campaign of 1777 was marked by the evacuation of the Jerseys by the English, by the battles of Bennington and Brandywine, by the capture of Philadelphia, and the surrender of Burgoyne. Success, on the whole, was in favor of the Americans. They suffered a check at Brandywine, and lost the most considerable city in the Union at that time. But these disasters were more than compensated by the victory at Bennington and the capture of Burgoyne.

[Sidenote: Moral Effects of Burgoyne's Capture.]

This indeed was the great event of the campaign. Burgoyne was a member of parliament, and superseded General Carleton in the command of the northern army—an injudicious appointment, but made by the minister in order to carry his measures more easily through the House of Commons. The troops under his command amounted to over seven thousand veterans, besides a corps of artillery. He set out from St. John's, the 16th of June, and advanced to Ticonderoga, which he invested. The American forces, under General Schuyler, destined to oppose this royal army, and to defend Ticonderoga, were altogether insufficient, being not over five thousand men. The fortress was therefore abandoned, and the British general advanced to the Hudson, hoping to open a communication between it and Lake Champlain, and thus completely surround New England, and isolate it from the rest of the country. But the delays attending the march of the English army through the forests enabled the Americans to rally. The defeat of Colonel Baum at Bennington, by Colonel Stark, added to the embarrassments of Burgoyne, who now was straitened for provisions; nevertheless, he continued his march, hoping to reach Albany unmolested. But the Americans, commanded by General Gates, who had superseded Schuyler, were strongly intrenched at the principal passes on his route, and had fortified the high grounds. The army of Burgoyne was moreover attacked by the Americans at Stillwater, and he was forced to retreat to Saratoga. His army was now reduced to five thousand men; he had only three days' provisions; all the passes were filled by the enemy, and he was completely surrounded by fifteen thousand men. Under these circumstances, he was forced to surrender. His troops laid down their arms, but were allowed to embark at Boston for Europe. The Americans, by this victory, acquired forty-two pieces of brass artillery, four thousand six hundred muskets, and an immense quantity of military stores. This surrender of Burgoyne was the greatest disaster which the British troops had thus far experienced, and raised the spirits of the Americans to the highest pitch. Indeed, this surrender decided the fate of the war, for it proved the impossibility of conquering the Americans. It showed that they fought under infinitely greater advantages, since it was in their power always to decline a battle, and to choose their ground. It showed that the country presented difficulties which were insurmountable. It mattered but little that cities were taken, when the great body of the people resided in the country, and were willing to make sacrifices, and were commanded by such generals as Washington, Gates, Greene, Putnam, and Lee. The English ministry ought to have seen the nature of the contest; but a strange infatuation blinded the nation. There were some, however, whom no national pride could blind. Lord Chatham was one of these men. "No man," said this veteran statesman, "thinks more highly of the virtues and valor of British troops than I do. I know that they can achieve any thing except impossibilities. But the conquest of America is an impossibility."

There was one nation in Europe who viewed the contest with different eyes. This nation was France, then on the eve of revolution itself, and burning with enthusiastic love of the principles on which American independence was declared. The French government may not have admired the American cause, but it hated England so intensely, that it was resolved to acknowledge the independence of America, and aid the country with its forces.

[Sidenote: Arrival of La Fayette.]

In the early part of the war, the American Congress had sent commissioners to France, in order to obtain assistance. In consequence of their representations, La Fayette, then a young man of nineteen years of age, freighted a ship at his own expense, and joined the American standard. Congress, in consideration of his illustrious rank and singular enthusiasm, gave him a commission of major-general. And gloriously did he fulfil the great expectations which were formed of him; richly did he deserve the gratitude and praise of all the friends of liberty.

La Fayette embarked in the American cause as a volunteer. The court of France, in the early period of the contest, did not think it expedient openly to countenance the revolution. But, after the surrender of Burgoyne, and it was evident that the United States would succeed in securing their independence, then it was acknowledged, and substantial aid was rendered.

The winter which succeeded the surrender of Burgoyne is memorable for the sufferings of the American army encamped at Valley Forge, about twenty miles from Philadelphia. The army was miserably supplied with provisions and clothing, and strong discontent appeared in various quarters. Out of eleven thousand eight hundred men, nearly three thousand were barefooted and otherwise naked. But the sufferings of the army were not the only causes of solicitude to the commander-in-chief, on whom chiefly rested the responsibility of the war. The officers were discontented, and were not prepared, any more than the privates, to make permanent sacrifices. They were obliged to break in upon their private property, and were without any prospect of future relief. Washington was willing to make any sacrifices himself, and refused any payment for his own expenses; but, while he exhibited the rarest magnanimity, he did not expect it from others, and urged Congress to provide for the future pay of the officers, when the war should close. He looked upon human nature as it was, not as he wished it to be, and recognized the principles of self-interest as well as those of patriotism. It was his firm conviction that a long and lasting war could not, even in those times, be sustained by the principle of patriotism alone, but required, in addition, the prospect of interest, or some reward. The members of Congress did not all agree with him in his views, and expected that officers would make greater sacrifices than private citizens, but, after a while, the plan of half-pay for life, as Washington proposed, was adopted by a small majority, though afterwards changed to half-pay for seven years. There was also a prejudice in many minds against a standing army, besides the jealousies and antipathies which existed between different sections of the Union. But Washington, with his rare practical good sense, combated these, as well as the fears of the timid and the schemes of the selfish. The history of the Revolution impresses us with the greatness and bravery of the American nation; and every American should feel proud of his ancestors for the efforts they made, under so many discouragements, to secure their liberties; but it would be a mistake to suppose that nothing but exalted heroism was exhibited. Human nature showed its degeneracy in the camp and on the field of battle, among heroes and among patriots. The perfection of character, so far as man is ever perfect, was exhibited indeed, by Washington, but by Washington alone.

The army remained at Valley Forge till June, 1778. In the mean time, Lord North made another ineffectual effort to procure reconciliation. But he was too late. His offers might have been accepted at the commencement of the contest; but nothing short of complete independence would now satisfy the Americans, and this North was not willing to concede. Accordingly, new measures of coercion were resorted to by the minister, although the British forces in America were upwards of thirty-three thousand.

[Sidenote: Evacuation of Philadelphia.]

On the 18th of June, Sir Henry Clinton, who had succeeded Sir William Howe in command of the British forces, evacuated Philadelphia, the possession of which had proved of no service to the English, except as winter quarters for the troops. It was his object to proceed to New York, for which place he marched with his army, having sent his heavy baggage by water. The Americans, with superior forces, hung upon his rear, and sought an engagement. An indecisive one occurred at Monmouth, during which General Lee disregarded the orders of his superior in command, and was suspended for twelve months. There never was perfect harmony between Washington and Lee; and the aid of the latter, though a brave and experienced officer, was easily dispensed with.

No action of importance occurred during this campaign, and it was chiefly signalized by the arrival of the Count d'Estaing, with twelve ships of the line and four frigates, to assist the Americans. But, in consequence of disagreements and mistakes, this large armament failed to engage the English naval forces.

The campaign of 1779 was not more decisive than that of the preceding year. Military operations were chiefly confined to the southern sections of the country, in which the English generally gained the advantage, having superior forces. They overran the country, inflamed the hostility of the Indians, and destroyed considerable property. But they gained no important victory, and it was obvious to all parties that conquest was impossible.

[Sidenote: The Treason of Arnold.]

The campaign of 1780 is memorable for the desertion of General Arnold. Though not attended by important political results, it produced an intense excitement. He was intrusted with the care of the fortress of West Point, which commanded the Hudson River; but, dissatisfied, extravagant, and unprincipled, he thought to mend his broken fortunes by surrendering it to the British, who occupied New York. His treason was discovered when his schemes were on the point of being accomplished; but he contrived to escape, and was made a brigadier-general in the service of the enemy. Public execration loaded his name with ignominy, and posterity has not reversed the verdict of his indignant countrymen. His disgrace and ruin were primarily caused by his extravagance and his mortified pride. Washington fully understood his want of moral principle, but continued to intrust him with power, in view of the great services he had rendered his country, and his unquestioned bravery and military talents. After his defection, the American commander-in-chief was never known to intrust an important office to a man in whose virtue he had not implicit faith. The fate of Major Andre, who negotiated the treason with Arnold, and who was taken as a spy, was much lamented by the English Neither his family, nor rank, nor accomplishments, nor virtues nor the intercession of Sir Henry Clinton, could save him from military execution, according to the established laws of war. Washington has been blamed for not exercising more forbearance in the case of so illustrious a prisoner; but the American general never departed from the rigid justice which he deemed it his duty to pursue.

During this year, the American currency had singularly depreciated, so that forty dollars were worth only one in specie—a fact which shows the embarrassments of the country, and the difficulty of supporting the army. But the prospects of ultimate success enabled Congress, at length, to negotiate loans, and the army was kept together.

[Sidenote: Surrender of Lord Cornwallis.]

The great event in the campaign of 1781 was the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, at Yorktown, which decided the fate of the war. Lord Cornwallis, who was an able commander, had been successful at the south, although vigorously and skilfully opposed by General La Fayette. But he had at last to contend with the main body of the American army, and French forces in addition, so that the combined armies amounted to over twelve thousand men. He was compelled to surrender to superior forces; and seven thousand prisoners, with all their baggage and stores, fell into the hands of the victors, 19th of October, 1781. This great event diffused universal joy throughout America, and a corresponding depression among the English people.

After this capitulation, the conviction was general that the war would soon be terminated. General La Fayette obtained leave to return to France, and the recruiting service languished. The war nevertheless, was continued until 1783; without, however, being signalized by any great events. On the 30th of November, 1782, preliminary articles of peace were signed at Paris, by which Great Britain acknowledged the independence of the United States, and by which the whole country south of the lakes and east of the Mississippi was ceded to them, and the right of fishing on the Banks of Newfoundland.

On the 25th of November, 1783, the British troops evacuated New York; and, shortly after, the American army was disbanded. The 4th of December, Washington made his farewell address to his officers; and, on the 23d of December, he resigned his commission into the hands of the body from which he received it, and retired to private life; having discharged the great trust reposed in him in a manner which secured the gratitude of his country and which will probably win the plaudits of all future generations.

The results of the Revolutionary War can only be described by enumerating the progressive steps of American aggrandizement from that time to this, and by speculating on the future destinies of the Anglo-Saxon race on the American continent. The success which attended this long war is in part to be traced to the talents and matchless wisdom and integrity of the commander-in-chief; to the intrepid courage and virtues of the armies he directed; to the self-confidence and inexperience of the English generals; to the difficulties necessarily attending the conquest of forests, and swamps, and scattered towns; to the assistance of the French nation; and, above all, to the superintending providence of God, who designed to rescue the sons of the Pilgrims from foreign oppression, and, in spite of their many faults, to make them a great and glorious nation, in which religious and civil liberty should be perpetuated, and all men left free to pursue their own means of happiness, and develop the inexhaustible resources of a great and boundless empire.

[Sidenote: Resignation of Lord North.]

The English nation acquiesced in an event which all felt to be inevitable; but Lord North was compelled to resign, and a change of measures was pursued. It is now time to contemplate English affairs, until the French Revolution.

* * * * *

REFERENCES.—The books written on the American Revolution are very numerous, an index to which may be seen in Botta's History, as well as in the writings of those who have treated of this great event. Sparks's Life and Correspondence of Washington is doubtless the most valuable work which has yet appeared since Marshall wrote the Life of Washington. Guizot's Essay on Washington is exceedingly able; nor do I know any author who has so profoundly analyzed the character and greatness of the American hero. Botta's History of the Revolution is a popular but superficial and overlauded book. Mr. Hale's History of the United States is admirably adapted to the purpose for which it is designed, and is the best compendium of American history. Stedman is the standard authority in England. Belsham, in his History of George III., has written candidly and with spirit. Smyth, in his lectures on Modern History, has discussed the Revolution with great ability. See also the works of Ramsay, Winterbotham, Allen, and Gordon. The lives of the prominent American generals, statesmen, and orators, should also be read in connection; especially of Lee, Greene, Franklin, Adams, and Henry, which are best described in Sparks's American Biography.



CHAPTER XXIX.

ADMINISTRATION OF WILLIAM PITT.

[Sidenote: William Pitt.]

We come now to consider the most eventful administration, in many important respects, in British annals. The greatness of military operations, the magnitude of reforms, and the great number of illustrious statesmen and men of genius, make the period, when Pitt managed the helm of state, full of interest and grandeur.

[Sidenote: Early Life of Pitt.]

William Pitt, second son of the first Earl of Chatham, entered public life at a very early age, and was prime minister of George III. at a period of life when most men are just completing a professional education. He was a person of extraordinary precocity. He entered Cambridge University at the age of fourteen, and at that period was a finished Greek and Latin scholar. He spent no idle hours, and evinced but little pleasure in the sports common to boys of his age. He was as successful in mastering mathematics as the languages, and was an admirer of the profoundest treatises of intellectual philosophy. He excelled in every branch of knowledge to which he directed his attention. In 1780, at the age of twenty-one, he became a resident in Lincoln's Inn, entered parliament the succeeding spring, and immediately assumed an active part. His first speech astonished all who heard him, notwithstanding that great expectations were formed concerning his power. He was made chancellor of the exchequer at the age of twenty-three, and at a time when it required a finance minister of the greatest experience. Nor would the Commons have acquiesced in his appointment to so important a post, in so critical a state of the nation, had not great confidence existed as to his abilities. From his first appearance, Pitt took a commanding position as a parliamentary orator; nor, as such, has he ever, on the whole, been surpassed. His peculiar talents fitted him for the highest post in the gift of his sovereign, and the circumstances of the times, in addition, were such as were calculated to develop all the energies and talents he possessed. He was not the most commanding intellect of his age, but he was, unquestionably, the greatest orator that England has produced, and exercised, to the close of his career, in spite of the opposition of such men as Burke, Fox, and Sheridan, an overwhelming parliamentary influence. He was a prodigy; as great in debate, and in executive power, as Napoleon was in the field, Bacon in philosophy, or Shakspeare in poetry. It is difficult for us to conceive how a young man, just emerging from college halls, should be able to answer the difficult questions of veteran statesmen who had been all their lives opposing the principles he advanced, and to assume at once the powers with which his father was intrusted only at a mature period of life. Pitt was almost beyond envy, and the proud nobles and princely capitalists of the richest, proudest, and most conservative country in the world, surrendered to him the guardianship of their liberties with no more fear or distrust than the hereditary bondmen of Turkey or Russia would have shown in hailing the accession of a new emperor. He was born to command, one of nature's despots, and he assumed the reins of government with a perfect consciousness of his abilities to rule.

He was only twenty-four years of age when he began to reign; for, as prime minister of George III., he was, during his continuance in office, the absolute ruler of the British empire. He had, virtually, the nomination of his colleagues, and, through them, the direction of all executive affairs. He was controlled by the legislature only, and parliament was subservient to his will. What a proud position for a young man to occupy! A commoner, with a limited fortune, to give laws to a vast empire, and to have a proud nobility obedient to his will; and all this by the force of talents alone—talents which extorted admiration and respect. He selected Lord Thurlow as chancellor, Lord Gower as president of the council, the Duke of Richmond as lord privy seal, Lords Carmarthen and Sydney as secretaries of state, and Lord Howe as first lord of the admiralty. These were his chief associates in resisting a powerful opposition, and in regulating the affairs of a vast empire—the concerns of India, the national debt, the necessary taxation, domestic tranquillity, and intercourse with foreign powers. But he deserved the confidence of his sovereign and of the nation, and they sustained him in his extraordinary embarrassments and difficulties.

[Sidenote: Policy of Pitt.]

The policy of the administration is not here to be discussed; but it was the one pursued, in the main, by his father, and one which gratified the national pride. The time has not yet come for us to decide, with certainty, on the wisdom of his course. He was the advocate of measures which had for their object national aggrandizement. He was the strenuous defender of war, and he would oppose Napoleon and all the world to secure preeminence to Great Britain. He believed that glory was better than money; he thought that an overwhelming debt was a less evil than national disgrace; he exaggerated the resources and strength of his country, and believed that it was destined to give laws to the world; he underrated the abilities of other nations to make great advances in mechanical skill and manufacturing enterprise; he supposed that English manufactures would be purchased forever by the rest of the world, and therefore that England, in spite of the debt, would make all nations contribute to her glory and wealth. It was to him a matter of indifference how heavily the people were taxed to pay the interest on a fictitious debt, provided that, by their commerce and manufactures, they could find abundant means to pay this interest. And so long as England could find a market for her wares, the nation would not suffer from taxation. His error was in supposing that England, forever, would manufacture for the world; that English skill was superior to the skill of all other nations; that there was a superiority in the very nature of an Englishman which would enable him, in any country, or under any circumstances, to overcome all competitors and rivals. Such views were grateful to his nation; and he, by continually flattering the national vanity, and ringing the changes on glory and patriotism, induced it to follow courses which may one day result in overwhelming calamities. Self-exaggeration is as fatal to a nation as it is to an individual, and constitutes that pride which precedes destruction. But the mere debt of England, being owed to herself, and not to another nation, is not so alarming as it is sometimes supposed. The worst consequence, in a commercial point of view, is national bankruptcy; but if England becomes bankrupt, her factories, her palaces, her warehouses, and her ships remain. These are not destroyed. Substantial wealth does not fly from the island, but merely passes from the hands of capitalists to the people. The policy of Pitt has merely enriched the few at the expense of the many—has confirmed the power of the aristocracy. When manufacturers can no longer compete with those of other countries, upon such unequal terms as are rendered necessary in consequence of unparalleled taxation to support the public creditors, then the public creditors must suffer rather than the manufacturer himself. The manufacturer must live. This class composes a great part of the nation. The people must be fed, and they will be fed; and they can be fed as cheaply as in any country, were it not for taxes. The policy of Pitt, during the period of commercial prosperity, tended, indeed, to strengthen the power of the aristocracy—that class to which he belonged, and to which the House of Commons, who sustained him, belonged. But it was suicidal, as is the policy of all selfish men; and ultimately must tend to revolutionary measures, even though those measures may not be carried by massacres and blazing thrones.

But we must hasten to consider the leading events which characterized the administration of William Pitt. These were the troubles in Ireland, parliamentary reforms, the aggrandizement of the East India Company, the trial of Hastings, debates on the slave trade, and the war with France in consequence of the French Revolution.

[Sidenote: Difficulties with Ireland.]

[Sidenote: The United Irishmen.]

The difficulties with Ireland did not become alarming until the French Revolution had created a spirit of discontent and agitation in all parts of Great Britain. Soon after his accession to power, Mr. Flood, a distinguished member of the Irish House of Commons, brought in a bill of parliamentary reform, which, after a long debate, was negatived. Though his measure was defeated in the House, its advocates out of doors were not cast down, but took measures to form a national congress, for the amelioration of the evils which existed. A large delegation of the people actually met at Dublin, and petitioned parliament for the redress of grievances. Mr. Pitt considered the matter with proper attention, and labored to free the commerce of Ireland from the restraints under which it labored. But, in so doing, he excited the jealousy of British merchants and manufacturers, and they induced him to remodel his propositions for the relief of Ireland, which were then adopted. Tranquillity was restored until the year 1791, when there appeared at Belfast the plan of an association, under the name of the United Irishmen, whose object was a radical reform of all the evils which had existed in Ireland since its connection with England. This association soon extended throughout the island, and numbered an immense body of both Protestants and Catholics who were disaffected with the government. In consequence of the disaffections, especially among the Catholics, the English ministry made many concessions, and the legislature allowed Catholics to practice law, to intermarry with Protestants, and to obtain an unrestrained education. But parliament also took measures to prevent the assembling of any convention of the people, and augmented the militia in case of disturbance. But disturbances took place, and the United Irishmen began to contemplate an entire separation from England, and other treasonable designs. In consequence of these commotions, the Habeas Corpus Act was suspended, and a military government was enforced with all its rigor. The United Irish pretended to submit, but laid still deeper schemes, and extended their affiliations. In May, 1797, the number of men enrolled by the union in Ulster alone was one hundred thousand, and their organization was perfect. The French government was aware of the union, which gradually numbered five hundred thousand men, and promised it assistance. The Irish, however, relied chiefly upon themselves, and prepared to resist the English government, which was resolved on pursuing the most vigorous measures. A large military force was sent to Ireland, and several ringleaders of the contemplated insurrection were arrested.

But the timely discovery of the conspiracy prevented one of the most bloody contests which ever happened in Ireland. Nevertheless, the insurrection broke out in some places, and in the county of Wexford was really formidable. The rebels numbered twenty thousand men. They got possession of Wexford, and committed great barbarities; but they were finally subdued by Lord Cornwallis. Had the French cooeperated, as they had promised, with a force of fifteen thousand, it is not improbable that Ireland would have been wrested from England. But the French had as much as they could do, at this time, to take care of themselves; and Ireland was again subjected to greater oppressions than before.

The Irish parliament had hitherto been a mere body of perpetual dictators. By the Octennial Bill, this oligarchy was disbanded, and the House of Commons wore something of the appearance of a constitutional assembly, and there were found in it some men of integrity and sagacity. Ireland also had her advocates in the British senate; but whenever the people or the parliament gained a victory over the viceroy, some accident or blunder deprived the nation of reaping the fruits. The Commons became again corrupted, and the independence which Ireland obtained ceased to have a value. The corrupted Commons basely surrendered all that had been obtained. In vain the eloquence of Curran and Grattan. The Irish nation, without public virtue, a prey to faction, and a scene of corruption, became at last powerless and politically helpless. The rebellion of 1798 was a mere peasants' war, without intelligence to guide, or experience to counsel. It therefore miserably failed, but did not fail until fifty thousand rebels and twenty thousand royalists had perished.

[Sidenote: Union of England and Ireland.]

In June, 1800, the union of Ireland and England was effected, on the same basis as that between England and Scotland in the time of Anne. It was warmly opposed by some of the more patriotic of the Irish statesmen, and only carried by corruption and bribery. By this union, foreign legislation took the place of the guidance of those best qualified to know the national grievances; the Irish members became, in the British senate, merely the tools of the administration. Absenteeism was nearly doubled, and the national importance nearly annihilated in a political point of view. But, on the other hand, an oligarchal tyranny was broken, and the bond of union which bound the countries was strengthened, and the nation subsided into a greater state of tranquillity. Twenty-eight peers and one hundred commoners were admitted into the English parliament.

Notwithstanding the suppression of the rebellion of 1798, only five years elapsed before another one was contemplated—the result of republican principles, and of national grievances. The leaders were Robert Emmet and Thomas Russell. But their treasonable designs were miserably supported by their countrymen, and they were able to make but a feeble effort, which immediately failed. These men were arrested, tried, and executed. The speech of Emmet, before his execution, has been much admired for its spirit of patriotism and pensive eloquence. His grand mistake consisted in overrating the strength of democratic influences, and in supposing that, by violent measures, he could overturn a strong military government. The Irish were not prepared for freedom, still less republican freedom. There was not sufficient concert, or patriotism, or intelligence, to secure popular liberty, and the antipathy between the Catholic and Protestant population was too deeply seated and too malignant to hope, reasonably, for a lasting union.

[Sidenote: Condition of Ireland.]

All the measures which have been adopted for the independence and elevation of Ireland have failed, and the country is still in as lamentable a state as ever. It presents a grand enigma and mystery to the politician. All the skill of statesmen is baffled in devising means for the tranquillity and improvement of that unhappy and unfortunate country. The more privileges the people gain, and the greater assistance they receive, the more unreasonable appear to be their demands, and the more extravagant their expectations. Still, there are great and shameful evils, which ought to be remedied. There are nearly five millions of acres of waste land in the country, capable of the highest cultivation. The soil is inexhaustibly rich, the climate is most delightful, and the natural advantages for agriculture and commerce unprecedented. Still the Irish remain oppressed and poor; enslaved by their priests, and ground down to the earth by exacting landlords and a hostile government. There is no real union between England and Ireland, no sympathy between the different classes, and an implacable animosity between the Protestant and Catholic population. The northern and Protestant part of the island is the most flourishing; but Ireland, in any light it may be viewed, is the most miserable country, with all the gifts of nature, the worst governed, and the most afflicted, in Christendom; and no human sagacity or wisdom has yet been able to devise a remedy for the innumerable evils which prevail. The permanent causes of the degradation of the Irish peasantry, in their own country, have been variously attributed to the Roman Catholic priesthood, to the tyranny of the government, to the system by which the lands are leased and cultivated, and to the natural elements of the Irish character. These, united, may have produced the effects which all philanthropists deplore; but no one cause, in particular, can account for so fine a nation sinking into such poverty and wretchedness, especially when it is considered that the same idle and miserable peasantry, when transplanted to America, exhibit very different dispositions and tastes, and develop traits of character which command respect and secure prosperity.

[Sidenote: Parliamentary Reform.]

The first plan for parliamentary reform was brought forward by Pitt in 1782, before he was prime minister, in consequence of a large number of the House representing no important interests, and dependent on the minister. But his motion was successfully opposed. In May, 1783, he brought in another bill to add one hundred members to the House of Commons, and to abolish a proportionate number of the small and obnoxious boroughs. This plan, though supported by Fox, was negatived by a great majority. In 1785, he made a third attempt to secure a reform of parliament, and again failed; and with this last attempt ended all his efforts for this object. So persuaded was he of the impracticability of the measure, that he even uniformly opposed the object when attempted by others. Moreover, he changed his opinions when he perceived the full connection and bearing of the subject with other agitating questions. He was desirous of a reform, if it could be obtained without mischief; but when it became a democratic measure, he opposed it with all his might. Indeed, he avowed that he preferred to have parliament remain as it was, forever, rather than risk any prospects of reform when the country was so deeply agitated by revolutionary discussions. Mr. Pitt perfectly understood that those persons who were most eager for parliamentary reform, desired the overthrow of the existing institutions of the land, or, at least, such as were inconsistent with the hereditary succession to the throne, hereditary titles, and the whole system of entailed estates. Mr. Pitt, as he grew older, more powerful, and more experienced, became more aristocratic and conservative; feared to touch any of the old supports of the constitution for fear of producing a revolution—an evil which, of all evils, he most abhorred. Mr. Burke, though opposed to the minister, here defended him, and made an eloquent speech against revolutionary measures. Nor can we wonder at the change of opinion, which Mr. Pitt and others admitted, when it is considered that the advocates of parliamentary reform also were associated with men of infidel and dangerous principles. Thomas Paine was one of the apostles of liberty in that age, and his writings had a very great and very pernicious influence on the people at large. It is very singular, but nevertheless true, that some of the most useful reforms have been projected by men of infidel principles, and infidelity and revolutionary excess have generally been closely connected.

But the reform question did not deeply agitate the people of England until a much later period. One of the most exciting events, in the domestic history of England during the administration of Pitt, was the trial of Hastings and the difficulties which grew out of the aggrandizement of the East India Company.

[Sidenote: Warren Hastings.]

In the chapter on colonization, allusion was made to Indian affairs until the close of the administration of Lord Clive. Warren Hastings continued the encroachments and conquests which Clive had so successfully begun. He went to India in 1750, at the age of seventeen, as a clerk in the service of the company. It was then merely a commercial corporation. His talents and sagacity insured his prosperity. He gradually was promoted, and, in 1772, was appointed head of the government in Bengal. But the governor was not then, as he now is, nearly absolute, and he had only one vote in the council which represented the company at Calcutta. He was therefore frequently overruled, and his power was crippled. But he contrived to make important changes, and abolished the office of the minister to whom was delegated the collection of the revenue and the general regulation of internal affairs—an office which had been always held by a native. Hastings transferred the internal administration to the servants of the company, and in various other ways improved the finances of the company, the members of which were indifferent, comparatively, to the condition of the people of India, provided that they themselves were enriched. To enrich the company and extend its possessions, even at the expense of justice and humanity, became the object of the governor-general. He succeeded; but success brought upon him the imprecations of the natives and the indignant rebukes of his own countrymen. In less than two years after he had assumed the government, he added four hundred thousand pounds to the annual income of the company, besides nearly a million in ready money. But the administration of Hastings cannot be detailed. We can only notice that part of it which led to his trial in England.

[Sidenote: War with Hyder Ali.]

The great event which marked his government was the war with Hyder Ali, the Mohammedan sovereign of Mysore. The province of Bengal and the Carnatic had been, for some time, under the protection of the English. Adjoining the Carnatic, in the centre of the peninsula, were the dominions of Hyder Ali. Had Hastings been governor of Madras, he would have conciliated him, or vigorously encountered him as an enemy. But the authorities at Madras had done neither. They provoked him to hostilities, and, with an army of ninety thousand men, he invaded the Carnatic. British India was on the verge of ruin. Hyder Ali was every where triumphant, and only a few fortified places remained to the English.

Hastings, when he heard of the calamity, instantly adopted the most vigorous measures. He settled his difficulties with the Mahrattas; he suspended the incapable governor of Fort George, and sent Sir Eyre Coote to oppose the great Mohammedan prince who threatened to subvert the English power in India.

But Hastings had not the money which was necessary to carry on an expensive war with the most formidable enemy the English ever encountered in the East. He therefore resolved to plunder the richest and most sacred city of India—Benares. It was the seat of Indian learning and devotion, and contained five hundred thousand people. Its temple, as seen from the Ganges, was the most imposing in the Eastern world, while its bazaars were filled with the most valuable and rare of Indian commodities; with the muslins of Bengal, the shawls of Cashmere, the sabres of Oude, and the silks of its own looms.

This rich capital was governed by a prince nominally subject to the Great Mogul, but who was dependent on the Nabob of Oude, a large province north of the Ganges, near the Himmaleh Mountains. Benares and its territories, being oppressed by the Nabob of Oude, sought the protection of the British. Their protection was, of course, readily extended; but it was fatal to the independence of Benares. The alliance with the English was like the protection Rome extended to Greece when threatened by Asia, and which ended in the subjection of both Greece and Asia. The Rajah of Benares became the vassal of the company, and therefore was obliged to furnish money for the protection he enjoyed.

But the tribute which the Rajah of Benares paid did not satisfy Hastings. He exacted still greater sums, which led to an insurrection and ultimate conquest. The fair domains of Cheyte Sing, the lord of Benares, were added to the dominions of the company together with an increased revenue of two hundred thousand pounds a year. The treasure of the rajah amounted to two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, and this was divided as prize money among the English.

[Sidenote: Robbery of the Princesses of Oude.]

The rapacious governor-general did not obtain the treasure which he expected to find at Benares, and then resolved to rob the Princesses of Oude, who had been left with immense treasures on the death of Suraj-w Dowlah, the nabob vizier of the Grand Mogul. The only pretext which Hastings could find was, that the insurrection at Benares had produced disturbances at Oude, and which disturbances were imputed to the princesses. Great barbarities were inflicted in order to secure these treasures; but the robbers were successful, and immense sums flowed into the treasury of the company. By these iniquities, the governor found means to conduct the war in the Carnatic successfully, and a treaty was concluded with Tippoo, the son of Hyder Ali, by which the company reigned without a rival on the great Indian peninsula.

When peace was restored to India, and the company's servants had accumulated immense fortunes, Hastings returned to England. But the iniquities he had practised excited great indignation among those statesmen who regarded justice and humanity as better supports to a government than violence and rapine.

Foremost among these patriots was Edmund Burke. He had long been a member of the select committee to investigate Indian affairs, and he had bestowed great attention to them, and fully understood the course which Hastings had pursued.

Through his influence, an inquiry into the conduct of the late governor-general was instituted, and he was accordingly impeached at the bar of the House of Lords. Mr. Pitt permitted matters to take their natural course; but the king, the Lord Chancellor Thurlow, the ministers generally, and the directors of the East India Company espoused his cause. They regarded him as a very great man, whose rule had been glorious to the nation, in spite of the mistakes and cruelties which marked his government. He had added an empire to the British crown, educed order out of anarchy, and organized a system of administration which, in its essential features, has remained to this time. He enriched the company, while he did not enrich himself; for he easily might have accumulated a fortune of three millions of pounds. And he moreover contrived, in spite of his extortions and conquests, to secure the respect of the native population, whose national and religious prejudices he endeavored not to shock. "These things inspired good will. At the same time, his constant success, and the manner in which he extricated himself from every difficulty, made him an object of superstitious admiration; and the more than regal splendor which he sometimes displayed, dazzled a people who have much in common with children. Even now, after the lapse of more than fifty years, the natives of India still talk of him as the greatest of the English, and nurses sing children to sleep with a gingling ballad about the fleet horses and richly-caparisoned elephants of Sahib Warren Hostein."

[Sidenote: Prosecution of Hastings.]

But neither the admiration of the people of the East for the splendid abilities of Hastings, nor the gratitude of a company of merchants, nor the powerful friends he had in the English parliament, could screen him from the malignant hatred of Francis, or the purer indignation of Burke. The zeal which the latter evinced in his prosecution has never been equalled, and all his energies, for years, were devoted to the exposure of a person whom he regarded as "a delinquent of the first magnitude." "He had just as lively an idea of the insurrection at Benares as of Lord George Gordon's riots, and of the execution of Nuncomar as of the execution of Dr. Dodd." Burke was assisted in his vehement prosecution by Charles James Fox, the greatest debater ever known in the House of Commons, but a man vastly inferior to himself in moral elevation, in general knowledge, in power of fancy, and in profound wisdom.

The trial was at Westminster Hall, the hall which had witnessed the inauguration of thirty kings, and the trials of accused nobles since the time of William Rufus. And he was a culprit not unworthy of that great tribunal before which he was summoned—"a tribunal which had pronounced sentence on Strafford, and pardon on Somers"—the tribunal before which royalty itself had been called to account. Hastings had ruled, with absolute sway, a country which was more populous and more extensive than any of the kingdoms of Europe, and had gained a fame which was bounded only by the unknown countries of the globe. He was defended by three men who subsequently became the three highest judges of the land, and he was encouraged by the appearance and sympathetic smiles of the highest nobles of the realm.

[Sidenote: Edmund Burke.]

But greater than all were the mighty statesmen who conducted the prosecution. First among them in character and genius was Edmund Burke, who, from the time that he first spoke in the House of Commons, in 1766, had been a prominent member, and had, at length, secured greater fame than any of his contemporaries, Pitt alone excepted, not merely as an orator, but as an enlightened statesman, a philosopher, and a philanthropist. He excelled all the great men with whom he was associated, in the variety of his powers; he was a poet even while a boy; a penetrating philosopher, critic, and historian before the age of thirty; a statesman of unrivalled moral wisdom; an orator whose speeches have been read with increasing admiration in every succeeding age; a judge of the fine arts to whose opinions Reynolds submitted; and a writer on various subjects, in which he displayed not only vast knowledge, but which he treated in a style of matchless beauty and force. All the great men of his age—Johnson, Reynolds, Goldsmith, Garrick, Pitt, Fox, Sheridan, Windham, North, Thurlow, Parr—scholars, critics, divines, and statesmen—bore testimony to his commanding genius and his singular moral worth, to his hatred of vice, and his passionate love of virtue. But these great and varied excellences, which secured him the veneration of the finest minds in Europe, were not fully appreciated by his own nation, which was astonished rather than governed by his prophetic wisdom. But Burke was remarkable, not merely for his knowledge, eloquence, and genius but also for an unblemished private life, for the habitual exercise of all those virtues, and the free expression of all those noble sentiments which only have marked exalted Christian characters. In his political principles, he was a conservative, and preferred to base his views on history and experience, rather than to try experiments, especially when these were advocated by men whose moral character or infidel sentiments excited his distrust or aversion. He did not shut his eyes to abuse, but aimed to mend deliberately and cautiously. His admonition to his country respecting America corresponded with his general sentiments. "Talk not of your abstract rights of government; I hate the very sound of them; follow experience and common sense." He believed that love was better than force, and that the strength of any government consisted in the affections of the people. And these he ever strove to retain, and for these he was willing to relinquish momentary gain and selfish aggrandizement. He advocated concession to the Irish legislature; justice and security to the people of India; liberty of conscience to Dissenters; relief to small debtors; the suppression of general warrants; the extension of the power of juries; freedom of the press; retrenchment in the public expenditures; the removal of commercial restrictions; and the abolition of the slave trade. He had a great contempt for "mechanical politicians," and "pedler principles." And he lived long enough to see the fulfilment of his political prophecies, and the horrors of that dreadful revolution which he had predicted and disliked, not because the principles which the French apostles of liberty advocated, were not abstractedly true, but because they were connected with excesses, and an infidel recklessness in the violation of established social rights, which alarmed and disgusted him. He died in 1797, in the sixty-eighth year of his age, beloved and honored by the good and great in all Christian countries.

[Sidenote: Charles James Fox.]

Next to Burke, among the prosecutors of Hastings, for greatness and popularity, was Charles James Fox; inferior to Burke in knowledge, imagination, and moral power, but superior in all the arts of debate, the most logical and accomplished forensic orator which that age of orators produced. His father, Lord Holland, had been the rival of the great Chatham, and he himself was opposed, nearly the whole of his public life, to the younger Pitt. His political principles were like those of Burke until the French Revolution, whose principles he at first admired. He was emphatically the man of the people, easy of access, social in his habits, free in his intercourse, without reserve or haughtiness, generous, magnanimous, and conciliatory. He was unsurpassed for logical acuteness, and for bursts of overpowering passion. He reached high political station, although his habits were such as destroyed, in many respects, the respect of those great men with whom he was associated.

[Sidenote: Richard Brinsley Sheridan.]

Richard Brinsley Sheridan, another of the public accusers of Hastings, was a different man from either Burke or Fox. He was born in Ireland, but was educated at Harrow, and first distinguished himself by writing plays. In 1776, on the retirement of Garrick, he became manager of Drury Lane Theatre; and shortly after appeared the School for Scandal, which placed him on the summit of dramatic fame. In 1780, he entered parliament, and, when Hastings was impeached, was in the height of his reputation, both as a writer and orator. His power consisted in brilliant declamation and sparkling wit, and his speech in relation to the Princesses of Oude produced an impression almost without a parallel in ancient or modern times. Mr. Burke's admiration was sincere and unbounded, but Fox thought it too florid and rhetorical. His fame now rests on his dramas. But his life was the shipwreck of genius, in consequence of his extravagance, his recklessness in incurring debts, and his dissipated habits, which disorganized his moral character and undermined the friendships which his brilliant talents at first secured to him.

But in spite of the indignation which these illustrious orators excited against Hastings, he was nevertheless acquitted, after a trial which lasted eight years, in consequence of the change of public opinion; and, above all, in view of the great services which he had really rendered to his country. The expenses of the trial nearly ruined him; but the East India Company granted him an annual income of four thousand pounds, which he spent in ornamenting and enriching Daylesford, the seat which had once belonged to his family, and which he purchased after his return from India.

[Sidenote: Bill for the Regulation of India.]

Although Warren Hastings was eventually acquitted by the House of Lords, still his long and protracted trial brought to light many evils connected with the government of India; and, in 1784, acts were passed which gave the nation a more direct control over the East India Company—the most gigantic monopoly the world has ever seen. That a company of merchants in Leadenhall Street should exercise an unlimited power over an empire larger than the whole of Europe with the exception of Russia, and sacrifice the interests of humanity to base pecuniary considerations, at length aroused the English nation. Accordingly, Mr. Pitt brought in a bill, which passed both Houses, which provided that the affairs of the company should be partly managed by a Board of Control, partly by the Court of Directors, and partly by a general meeting of the stockholders of the company. The Board of Control was intrusted to five privy counsellors, one of whom was secretary of state. It was afterwards composed of a president, such members of the privy council as the king should select, and a secretary. This board superintends and regulates all civil, military, and revenue officers, and political negotiations, and all general despatches. The Board of Directors, composed of twenty-four men, six of whom are annually elected, has the nomination of the governor-general, and the appointment of all civil and military officers. These two boards operate as a check against each other.

The first governor-general, by the new constitution, was Lord Cornwallis, a nobleman of great military experience and elevated moral worth; a man who was intrusted with great power, even after his misfortunes in America, and a man who richly deserved the confidence reposed in him. Still, he was seldom fortunate. He made blunders in India as well as in America. He did not fully understand the institutions of India, or the genius of the people. He was soon called to embark in the contests which divided the different native princes, and with the usual result. The simple principle of English territorial acquisition is, in defending the cause of the feebler party. The stronger party was then conquered, and became a province of the East India Company, while the weaker remained under English protection, until, by oppression, injustice, and rapacity on the part of the protectors, it was driven to rebellion, and then subdued.

When Lord Cornwallis was sent to India, in 1786, the East India Company had obtained possession of Bengal, a part of Bahar, the Benares district of Allahabad, part of Orissa, the Circars, Bombay, and the Jaghire of the Carnatic—a district of one hundred miles along the coast. The other great Indian powers, unconquered by the English, were the Mahrattas, who occupied the centre of India, from Delhi to the Krishna, and from the Bay of Bengal to the Arabian Sea; also, Golconda, the western parts of the Carnatic, Mysore, Oude, and the country of the Sikhs. Of the potentates who ruled over these extensive provinces, the Sultan of Mysore, Tippoo Saib, was the most powerful, although the Mahrattas country was the largest.

[Sidenote: War with Tippoo Saib.]

The hostility of Tippoo, who inherited his father's prejudices against the English, excited the suspicions of Lord Cornwallis, and a desperate war was the result, in which the sultan showed the most daring courage. In 1792, the English general invested the formidable fortress of Seringapatam, with sixteen thousand Europeans and thirty thousand sepoys, and with the usual success. Tippoo, after the loss of this strong fort, and of twenty-three thousand of his troops, made peace with Lord Cornwallis, by the payment of four millions of pounds, and the surrender of half his dominions. Lord Cornwallis, after the close of this war, returned home, and was succeeded by Sir John Shore; and he by Marquis Wellesley, (1798,) under whose administration the war with Tippoo was renewed, in consequence of the intrigues of the sultan with the French at Pondicherry, to regain his dominions. The Sultan of Mysore, was again defeated, and slain; the dynasty of Hyder Ali ceased to reign, and the East India Company took possession of the whole southern peninsula. A subsequent war with the Mahratta powers completely established the British supremacy in India. Delhi, the capital of the Great Mogul, fell into the hands of the English, and the emperor himself became a stipendiary of a company of merchants. The conquest of the country of the Mahrattas was indeed successful, but was attended by vast expenses, which entailed a debt on the company of about nineteen millions of pounds. The brilliant successes of Wellesley, however, were not appreciated by the Board of Directors, who wanted dividends rather than glory, and he was recalled.

[Sidenote: Conquest of India.]

There were no new conquests until 1817, under the government of the Earl of Moira, afterwards Marquis of Hastings. He made war on the Pindarries, who were bands of freebooters in Central India. They were assisted by several native powers, which induced the governor-general to demand considerable cessions of territory. In 1819, the British effected a settlement at Singapore by which a lucrative commerce was secured to Great Britain.

Lord Hastings was succeeded by the Earl of Amherst, under whose administration the Burmese war commenced, and by which large territories, between Bengal and China, were added to the British empire, (1826.)

On the overthrow of the Mogul empire, the kingdom of the Sikhs, in the northern part of India, and that of the Affghans, lying west of the Indus, arose in importance—kingdoms formerly subject to Persia. The former, with all its dependent provinces, has recently been conquered, and annexed to the overgrown dominions of the Company.

In 1833, the charter of the East India Company expired, and a total change of system was the result. The company was deprived of its exclusive right of trade, the commerce with India and China was freely opened to all the world, and the possessions and rights of the company were ceded to the nation for an annual annuity of six hundred and thirty thousand pounds. The political government of India, however, was continued to the company until 1853.

[Sidenote: Consequences of the Conquest.]

Thus has England come in possession of one of the oldest and most powerful of the Oriental empires, containing a population of one hundred and thirty millions of people, speaking various languages, and wedded irrecoverably to different social and religious institutions. The conquest of India is complete, and there is not a valuable office in the whole country which is not held by an Englishman. The native and hereditary princes of provinces, separately larger and more populous than Great Britain itself, are divested of all but the shadow of power, and receive stipends from the East India Company. The Emperor of Delhi, the Nabobs of Bengal and the Carnatic, the Rajahs of Tanjore and Benares, and the Princes of the house of Tippoo, and other princes, receive, indeed, an annual support of over a million sterling; but their power has passed away. An empire two thousand miles from east to west, and eighteen hundred from north to south, and containing more square miles than a territory larger than all the States between the Mississippi and the Atlantic Ocean, has fallen into the hands of the Anglo-Saxon race. It is true that a considerable part of Hindostan is nominally held by subsidiary allies, under the protection of the British government; but the moment that these dependent princes cease to be useful, this protection will be withdrawn. There can be no reasonable doubt that the English rule is beneficent in many important respects. Order and law are better observed than formerly under the Mohammedan dynasty; but no compensation is sufficient, in the eyes of the venerable Brahmin, for interference in the laws and religion of the country. India has been robbed by the armies of European merchants, and is only held in bondage by an overwhelming military force, which must be felt as burdensome and expensive when the plundered country shall no longer satisfy the avarice of commercial corporations. But that day may be remote. Calcutta now rivals in splendor and importance the old capital of the Great Mogul. The palace of the governor-general is larger than Windsor Castle or Buckingham Palace; the stupendous fortifications of Fort William rival the fortress of Gibraltar; the Anglo-Indian army amounts to two hundred thousand men; while the provinces of India are taxed, directly or indirectly, to an amount exceeding eighteen millions of pounds per annum. It is idle to speculate on the destinies of India, or the duration of the English power. The future is ever full of gloom, when scarcely any thing is noticeable but injustice and oppression on the part of rulers, and poverty and degradation among the governed. It is too much to suppose that one hundred and eighty millions of the human race can be permanently governed by a power on the opposite side of the globe, and where there never can exist any union or sympathy between the nation that rules and the nations that are ruled, in any religious, social, or political institution; and when all that is dear to the heart of man, and all that is consecrated by the traditions of ages, are made to subserve the interests of a mercantile state.

But it is time to hasten to the consideration of the remaining subjects connected with the administration of William Pitt.

The agitations of moral reformers are among the most prominent and interesting. The efforts of benevolent statesmen and philanthropists to abolish the slave trade produced a great excitement throughout Christendom, and were followed by great results.

In 1787, William Wilberforce, who represented the great county of York, brought forward, in the House of Commons, a motion for the abolition of the slave trade. The first public movements to put a stop to this infamous traffic were made by the Quakers in the Southern States of America, who presented petitions for that purpose to their respective legislatures. Their brethren in England followed their example, and presented similar petitions to the House of Commons. A society was formed, and a considerable sum was raised to collect information relative to the traffic, and to support the expense of application to parliament. A great resistance was expected and made, chiefly by merchants and planters. Mr. Wilberforce interested himself greatly in this investigation, and in May brought the matter before parliament, and supported his motion with overwhelming arguments and eloquence. Mr. Fox, Mr. Burke, Mr. William Smith, and Mr. Whitbread supported Mr. Wilberforce. Mr. Pitt defended the cause of abolition with great eloquence and power; but the House was not then in favor of immediate abolition, nor was it carried until Mr. Fox and his friends came into power.

[Sidenote: War with France.]

The war with France, in consequence of the progress of the revolution, is too great a subject to be treated except in a chapter by itself. Mr. Pitt abstained from all warlike demonstrations until the internal tranquillity of England itself was affected by the propagation of revolutionary principles. But when, added to these, it was feared that the French were resolved to extend their empire, and overturn the balance of power, and encroach on the liberties of England, then Pitt, sustained by an overwhelming majority in parliament, declared war upon France, (1793.) The advocates of the French Revolution, however, take different views, and attribute the rise and career of Napoleon to the jealousy and encroachments of England herself, as well as of Austria and Prussia. Whether the general European war might not have been averted, is a point which merits inquiry, and on which British statesmen are not yet agreed. But the connection of England with this great war will be presented in the following chapter.

Mr. Pitt continued to manage the helm of state until 1806; but all his energies were directed to the prosecution of the war, and no other events of importance took place during his administration.

[Sidenote: Policy of Pitt.]

His genius most signally was displayed in his financial skill in extricating his nation from the great embarrassments which resulted from the American war, and in providing the means to prosecute still more expensive campaigns against Napoleon and his generals. He also had unrivalled talent in managing the House of Commons against one of the most powerful oppositions ever known, and in a period of great public excitements. He was always ready in debate, and always retained the confidence of the nation. He is probably the greatest of the English statesmen, so far as talents are concerned, and so far as he represented the ideas and sentiments of his age. But it is a question which will long perplex philosophers whether he was the wisest of that great constellation of geniuses who enlightened his brilliant age. To him may be ascribed the great increase of the national debt. If taxes are the greatest calamity which can afflict a nation, then Pitt has entailed a burden of misery which will call forth eternal curses on his name, in spite of all the brilliancy of his splendid administration. But if the glory and welfare of nations consist in other things—in independence, patriotism, and rational liberty; if it was desirable, above all material considerations, to check the current of revolutionary excess, and oppose the career of a man who aimed to bring all the kings and nations of Europe under the yoke of an absolute military despotism, and rear a universal empire on the ruins of ancient monarchies and states,—then Pitt and his government should be contemplated in a different light.

That mighty contest which developed the energies of this great statesman, as well as the genius of a still more remarkable man, therefore claims our attention.

* * * * *

REFERENCES.—Tomline's Life of Pitt. Belsham's History of George III. Prior's and Bissett's Lives of Burke. Moore's Life of Sheridan. Walpole's Life of Fox. Life of Wilberforce, by his sons. Annual Register, from 1783 to 1806. Macaulay's Essay on Warren Hastings. Elphinstone's and Martin's Histories of India. Mill's British India. Russell's Modern Europe. Correspondence of Rt. Hon. Edmund Burke. Campbell's Lives of the Lord Chancellors. Boswell's Life of Johnson. Burke's Works. Schlosser's Modern History.



CHAPTER XXX.

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.

If the American war was the greatest event in modern times, in view of ultimate results, the French Revolution may be considered the most exciting and interesting to the eye of contemporaries. The wars which grew out of the Revolution in France were conducted on a scale of much greater magnitude, and embroiled all the nations of Europe. A greater expenditure of energies took place than from any contest in the annals of civilized nations. Nor has any contest ever before developed so great military genius. Napoleon stands at the head of his profession, by general consent; and it is probable that his fame will increase, rather than diminish, with advancing generations.

It is impossible to describe, in a few pages, the great and varied events connected with the French Revolution, or even allude to all the prominent ones. The causes of this great movement are even more interesting than the developments.

[Sidenote: Causes of the French Revolution.]

The question is often asked, could Louis XVI. have prevented the catastrophe which overturned his throne? He might, perhaps, have delayed it; but it was an inevitable event, and would have happened, sooner or later. There were evils in the government of France, and in the condition of the people, so overwhelming and melancholy, that they would have produced an outbreak. Had Richelieu never been minister; had the Fronde never taken place; had Louis XIV. and XV. never reigned; had there been no such women as disgraced the court of France in the eighteenth century; had there been no tyrannical kings, no oppressive nobles, no grievous taxes, no national embarrassments, no luxurious courts, no infidel writings, and no discontented people,—then Louis XVI. might have reigned at Versailles, as Louis XV. had done before him. But the accumulated grievances of two centuries called imperatively for redress, and nothing short of a revolution could have removed them.

Now, what were those evils and those circumstances which, of necessity, produced the most violent revolutionary storm in the annals of the world? The causes of the French revolution may be generalized under five heads: First, the influence of the writings of infidel philosophers; second, the diffusion of the ideas of popular rights; third, the burdens of the people, which made these abstract ideas of right a mockery; fourth, the absurd infatuation of the court and nobles; fifth, the derangement of the finances, which clogged the wheels of government, and led to the assembling of the States General. There were also other causes: but the above mentioned are the most prominent.

[Sidenote: Helvetius—Voltaire.]

Of those philosophers whose writings contributed to produce this revolution, there were four who exerted a remarkable influence. These were Helvetius, Voltaire, Rousseau, and Diderot.

Helvetius was a man of station and wealth, and published, in 1758, a book, in which he carried out the principles of Condillac and of other philosophers of the sensational, or, as it is sometimes called, the sensuous school. He boldly advocated a system of undisguised selfishness. He maintained that man owed his superiority over the lower animals to the superior organization of the body. Proceeding from this point, he asserted, further, that every faculty and emotion are derived from sensation; that all minds are originally equal; that pleasure is the only good, and self-interest the only ground of morality. The materialism of Helvetius was the mere revival of pagan Epicurianism; but it was popular, and his work, called De l'Esprit, made a great sensation. It was congenial with the taste of a court and a generation that tolerated Madame de Pompadour. But the Parliament of Paris condemned it, and pronounced it derogatory to human nature, inasmuch as it confined our faculties to animal sensibility, and destroyed the distinctions between virtue and vice.

His fame was eclipsed by the brilliant career of Voltaire, who exercised a greater influence on his age than any other man. He is the great apostle of French infidelity, and the great oracle of the superficial thinkers of his nation and age. He was born in 1694, and early appeared upon the stage. He was a favorite at Versailles, and a companion of Frederic the Great—as great an egotist as he, though his egotism was displayed in a different way. He was an aristocrat, made for courts, and not for the people, with whom he had no sympathy, although the tendency of his writings was democratic. In all his satirical sallies, he professed to respect authority. But he was never in earnest, was sceptical, insincere, and superficial. It would not be rendering him justice to deny that he had great genius. But his genius was to please, to amuse a vain-glorious people, to turn every thing into ridicule, to pull down, and substitute nothing instead. He was a modern Lucian, and his satirical mockery destroyed reverence for God and truth. He despised and defied the future, and the future has rendered a verdict which can never be reversed—that he was vain, selfish, shallow, and cold, without faith in any spiritual influence to change the world. But he had a keen perception of what was false, with all his superficial criticism, a perception of what is now called humbug; and it cannot be denied that, in a certain sense, he had a love of truth, but not of truth in its highest development, not of the positive, the affirmative, the real. Negation and denial suited him better, and suited the age in which he lived better; hence he was a "representative man," was an exponent of his age, and led the age. He hated the Jesuits, but chiefly because they advocated a blind authority; and he strove to crush Christianity, because its professors so often were a disgrace to it, while its best members were martyrs and victims. Voltaire did not, like Helvetius, propose any new system of philosophy, but strove to make all systems absurd. He set the ball of Atheism in motion, and others followed in a bolder track: pushed out, not his principles, for he had none, but his spirit, into the extreme of mockery and negation. And such a course unsettled the popular faith, both in religion and laws, and made men indifferent to the future, and to their moral obligations.

[Sidenote: Rousseau.]

Quite a different man was Rousseau. He was not a mocker, or a leveller, or a satirist, or an atheist. He resembled Voltaire only in one respect—in egotism. He was not so learned as Voltaire, did not write so much, was not so highly honored or esteemed. But he had more genius, and exercised a greater influence on posterity. His influence was more subtle and more dangerous, for he led astray people of generous impulses and enthusiastic dispositions, with but little intelligence or experience. He abounded in extravagant admiration of unsophisticated nature, professed to love the simple and earnest, affected extraordinary friendship and sympathy, and was most enthusiastic in his rhapsodies of sentimental love. Voltaire had no cant, but Rousseau was full of it. Voltaire was the father of Danton, but Rousseau of Robespierre, that sentimental murderer who as a judge, was too conscientious to hang a criminal, but sufficiently unscrupulous to destroy a king. The absurdities of Rousseau can be detected in the ravings of the ultra Transcendentalists, in the extravagance of Fourierism, in the mock philanthropy of such apostles of light as Eugene Sue and Louis Blanc. The whole mental and physical constitution of Rousseau was diseased, and his actions were strangely inconsistent with his sentiments. He gave the kiss of friendship, and it proved the token of treachery; he expatiated on simplicity and earnestness in most bewitching language, but was a hypocrite, seducer, and liar. He was always breathing the raptures of affection, yet never succeeded in keeping a friend; he was always denouncing the selfishness and vanity of the world, and yet was miserable without its rewards and praises; no man was more dependent on society, yet no man ever professed to hold it in deeper contempt; no man ever had a prouder spirit, yet no man ever affected a more abject humility. He dilated, with apparent rapture, on disinterested love, and yet left his own children to cold neglect and poverty. He poisoned the weak and the susceptible by pouring out streams of passion in eloquent and exciting language, under the pretence of unburdening his own soul and revealing his own sorrows. He was always talking about philanthropy and generosity, and yet seldom bestowed a charity. No man was ever more eloquent in paradox, or sublime in absurdity. He spent his life in gilding what is corrupt, and glossing over what is impure. The great moral effect of his writings was to make men commit crimes under the name of patriotism, and permit them to indulge in selfish passion under the name of love.

[Sidenote: Diderot.]

But more powerful than either of these false prophets and guides, in immediate influence, was Diderot; and with him the whole school of bold and avowed infidels, who united open atheism with a fierce democracy. The Encyclopedists professed to know every thing, to explain every thing, and to teach every thing, they discovered that there was no God, and taught that truth was a delusion, and virtue but a name. They were learned in mathematical, statistical, and physical science, but threw contempt on elevated moral wisdom, on the lessons of experience, and the eternal truths of divine revelation. They advocated changes, experiments, fomentations, and impracticable reforms. They preached a gospel of social rights, inflamed the people with disgust of their condition, and with the belief that wisdom and virtue resided, in the greatest perfection, with congregated masses.

[Sidenote: General Influence of the Philosophers.]

They incessantly boasted of the greatness of philosophy, and the obsolete character of Christianity. They believed that successive developments of human nature, without the aid of influences foreign to itself, would gradually raise society to a state of perfection. What they could not explain by their logical formularies, they utterly discarded. They denied the reality of a God in heaven, and talked about the divinity of man on earth, especially when associated masses of the ignorant and brutal asserted what they conceived to be their rights. They made truth to reside, in its greatest lustre, with passionate majorities; and virtue, in its purest radiance, with felons and vagabonds, if affiliated into a great association. They flattered the people that they were wiser and better than any classes above them, that rulers were tyrants, the clergy were hypocrites, the oracles of former days mere fools and liars. To sum up, in few words, the French Encyclopedists, "they made Nature, in her outward manifestations, to be the foundation of all great researches, man to be but a mass of organization, mind the development of our sensations, morality to consist in self-interest, and God to be but the diseased fiction of an unenlightened age. The whole intellect, being concentrated on the outward and material, gave rise, perhaps, to some improvements in physical science; but religion was disowned, morality degraded, and man made to be but the feeble link in the great chain of events by which Nature is inevitably accomplishing her blind designs." From such influences, what could we expect but infidelity, madness, anarchy, and crimes?

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