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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weymouth, August 20, 1792.[53]

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

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

The King meanwhile had marked his sense of the value of Pitt's services by pressing on him the honourable position of Warden of the Cinque Ports, with a stipend of L3,000 a year, intimating at the same time that he would not hear of his declining it (6th August).[55] It is a proof of the spotless purity of Pitt's reputation that not a single libel or gibe appeared in the Press on his acceptance of this almost honorary post.[56]

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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

Statesmanlike though the aims of Dumouriez were, they suffered not a little in their exposition. Talleyrand, the brain of the policy, was not its mouthpiece. In the French embassy at Portman Square he figured merely as adviser to the French ambassador, the ci-devant Marquis de Chauvelin, a vain and showy young man, devoid of the qualities of insight, tact, and patience in which the ex-bishop of Autun excelled his contemporaries. Had this sage counsellor remained in London to the end of the year, things might have gone very differently. The instructions issued to Chauvelin contain ideas similar to those outlined above; but they lay stress on the utility of a French alliance for England, in order to thwart the aims of a greedy Coalition and to ensure her own internal tranquillity, which, it is hinted, France can easily ruffle. Talleyrand is also charged to offer to cede the small but valuable island, Tobago, which we lost in 1783, provided that the British Government guaranteed a French loan of L3,000,000 or L4,000,000, to be raised in London; and he is to suggest that, if the two Powers acted together, they could revolutionize Spanish America and control the world.[69]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FOOTNOTES:

[43] "Parl. Hist.," xxix, 810-15.

[44] Ibid., 834.

[45] "Parl. Hist.," xxix, 551-602, 1404-31.

[46] Stanhope, ii, 148-50, and App., xv.

[47] Twiss, "Life of Lord Eldon," ch. x.

[48] Fitzmaurice, "Shelburne," iii, 500-4; Salomon, "Pitt," 596. The King later on teased the Duke of Leeds by a more compromising overture.

[49] "Malmesbury Diaries," ii, 454-64.

[50] "Leeds Mem.," 188.

[51] Ibid., 194.

[52] "Auckland Journals," ii, 417, 418.

[53] Pitt MSS., 103.

[54] I accept, with some qualification, Mr. Oscar Browning's explanation, that Lord Loughborough had exaggerated the accounts of his interviews with Pitt and the Whig leaders. (see "Leeds Mem.," 197, note).

[55] Stanhope, ii, 160.

[56] "Bland Burges P.," 208.

[57] Stanhope, "Miscellanies," ii, 57-63. Letter of Canning to W. Sturges Bourne, 3rd September 1792. This interview is not referred to by Mr. H. W. V. Temperley ("Canning," ch. ii), Mr. Sichel ("Sheridan"), Captain Bagot ("Canning and his Friends"), or E. Festing ("Frere and his Friends"). In "Pitt and Napoleon Miscellanies" I shall publish new letters of Canning. One, dated 15th March 1793, declines an offer of Portland to bring him into Parliament.

[58] Pallain, "La Mission de Talleyrand a Londres," 41.

[59] Keith's "Mems.," ii, 494. Keith to Grenville, 14th January 1792.

[60] "Gower's Despatches," 142, 143, 145, 149.

[61] Pallain, pp. xv-xviii.

[62] Pallain, 56, 57.

[63] Pallain, 106, 107.

[64] "Wealth of Nations," bk. iv, ch. iii.

[65] "Gower's Despatches," 165, 171.

[66] Sorel, ii, 216.

[67] Fersen, "Diary" (Eng. edit.), 255.

[68] Clapham, "Causes of the War of 1792," 231.

[69] On the Tobago proposal see "Dropmore P.," ii, 260.

[70] Pallain, 215-9. The original is in Pitt MSS., 333.

[71] Fersen, "Diary" (Eng. edit.), 316, 319.

[72] "Dropmore P.," ii, 267. See, too, further details in "Dumouriez and the Defence of England against Napoleon," by J. H. Rose and A. M. Broadley.

[73] Pitt MSS., 333. Chauvelin to Dumouriez, 28th April.

[74] "Parl. Hist.," xxix, 1522.

[75] "Rights of Man," pt. ii, ch. v.

[76] "Dropmore P.," ii, 282; "Auckland Journals," ii, 410.

[77] "Ann. Reg." (1792), 178-82, 225-32; Sorel, ii, 445-54; Heidrich, pt. ii, ch. ii. I fully agree with Dr. Salomon ("Pitt," 537) as to the sincerity of Pitt's desire for neutrality.

[78] Sybel, ii, 142.

[79] For the discussions between the three Powers on Poland see Heidrich, 165-219; and Salomon, "Das Politische System des juengeren Pitt und die zweite Teilung Polens" (Berlin, 1895).

[80] "F. O.," Poland, 6. Hailes to Grenville, 16th and 27th June 1792.

[81] "Dropmore P.," ii, 142; see, too, ii, 279.

[82] "Mems. of Fox," iii, 18.



CHAPTER III

PEACE OR WAR?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The follies of English democrats helped on this reaction. Whispers went about of strange and threatening orders of arms at Birmingham. A correspondent at the midland capital informed Dundas at the end of September that a Dr. Maxwell, of York, had ordered 20,000 daggers, which were to be 12 inches in the blade and 5 1/4 inches in the handle. The informant convinced the manufacturer that he must apprise the Home Secretary of this order and send him a specimen of the weapon. Probably it was the same which Burke melodramatically cast down on the floor of the House of Commons during his speech of 28th December. The dimensions exactly tally with those named by the biographer of Lord Eldon, who retained that dagger, though Bland Burges also put in a claim to have possessed it. The scepticism which one feels about this prodigious order of daggers, which others give as 3,000, is somewhat lessened by finding another letter, of 2nd October 1792, addressed to Dundas by James Maxwell of York, who stated that he highly disapproved of the "French" opinions of his younger brother (specimens of whose letters he enclosed), and had just given him L500 so as to dissuade him from going to Manchester to stir up discontent there.[95] This unbrotherly conduct condemns the elder Maxwell, but his information to some extent corroborated that which came from Birmingham. The whole affair may have been merely a device to frighten Ministers; but report says that Pitt took it seriously and ascribed to him the singular statement that Ministers soon might not have a hand to act with or a tongue to speak with.[96]

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

It is our labour that supports monarchy, aristocracy, and the priesthood.... We are not the "swinish multitude" that Mr. Burke speaks of. A majority of the House of Commons is returned by less than 6,000 voters; whereas, if the representation were equal (and we sincerely hope that it shortly will be), nearly that number will elect every single member. Not one-twentieth part of the commoners of Great Britain are electors.... We have a National Debt of more than L270,000,000, and pay L17,000,000 a year in taxes. More than one fourth of our incomes goes in taxes.[97]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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