William Pitt and the Great War. J. Holland Rose
of the Rhine, the terrible army of the Prussians and Austrians—the people of France will not suffer laws to be dictated to them by any tyrant. The King and his Parliament mean to make war upon us. Will the English republicans suffer it? Already these free men show their discontent and the repugnance which they have to bear arms against their brothers, the French. Well! We will fly to their succour. We will make a descent in the island. We will lodge there 50,000 caps of Liberty. We will plant there the sacred tree, and we will stretch out our arms to our republican brethren. The tyranny of their Government will soon be destroyed.
What did the famous mathematician think of this effusion in the heyday of the Empire, when he became Count of Pelusium with a Westphalian estate bringing in 200,000 francs a year? A collection of the frank confessions of the ci-devant Jacobins would form an entertaining volume.
Not the least piquant of them would be the criticisms of a Breton captain, Kersaint, on the bellicose speech which he launched at the Convention on 1st January 1793. Admitting that Pitt really wanted peace, while Fox only desired to abase his rival, he averred that the Prime Minister would try to arrest France in her rapid career of land conquest either by a naval war or by an armed mediation. War, said Kersaint, must result, were it only from the perplexities of Pitt and the hatred of George III for the French Republic. France, then, must threaten to free the Scottish and Irish nations which England had so long oppressed. The Republic could appeal with telling effect to the English sailors not to fight against the champions of the Rights of Man. Further, France need not fear the British Empire; for it is vulnerable in every sea, on all the continental markets, while France stands four-square, rooted in her fertile soil. Let them, then, attack the sources of British wealth which are easily assailable. "The credit of England rests upon fictitious wealth, the real riches of that people are scattered everywhere. … Asia, Portugal and Spain are the best markets for English products. … We must attack Lisbon and the Brazils, and carry an auxiliary army to Tippoo Sultan." As for Spain (continued Kersaint) she could be paralysed by the revolutionizing of Spanish America—the suggestion of Miranda to Dumouriez. In fact, Frenchmen need not fear war with all Governments. Open enmity was better than neutrality. This war would "regulate the destiny of nations and found the liberty of the world." Accordingly he proposed to offer to England either war or an alliance; to equip thirty sail of the line and twenty-four frigates; and to form a Committee of General Defence. The Convention assented to this last and referred the other questions to it.
Thus opened the terrible year, 1793. The circular letter of Monge and the speech of Kersaint furnished the weather-gauge for the future. In them we detect the mental exaltation, the boundless daring, the overwrought conviction of their neighbours' weakness, which were to carry Frenchmen up to bewildering heights of glory and overwhelm them in final disaster. We behold in awful perspective the conquest of Holland, Italy, and Central Europe, the Irish Rebellion, the Egyptian Expedition, the war on British commerce, culminating in the Continental System, with its ensuing campaigns in Spain and Russia, and the downfall of Napoleon. All this and more can be seen dimly, as in a crystal globe, in that fateful phrase of Kersaint—"The credit of England rests upon fictitious wealth."
Turning to the last details that preceded the declaration of war, we notice that on 7th January Chauvelin, acting on the order of Lebrun, sent in a sharp protest against the Aliens Bill as an infraction of Pitt's Treaty of Commerce of 1786. On one count Chauvelin certainly had a right to complain; for, strange to say, the Act was put in operation against Talleyrand, nominally his adviser, and the champion of the Anglo-French entente. The ex-Bishop of Autun penned an eloquent protest, which apparently had some effect, for he was not expelled until March 1794.[168] Far more incisive was Chauvelin's complaint. We can imagine his feelings when Grenville curtly declined to receive it.[169] At the same time Grenville refused to discuss or explain the stoppage of certain cargoes of grain destined for French ports. His private correspondence with Auckland shows that this measure was due to the fear that the French would store the corn for the use of the army that was threatening Holland. That motive of course could not be disclosed to Chauvelin; and Grenville declined to explain it at all until the resolutions arrived at in Paris were clearly set forth.
On Sunday, 13th January, Chauvelin received from Lebrun a long despatch, drawn up in less provoking terms than the last. He sought an informal interview with Grenville, which was immediately granted. Grenville's hitherto unpublished account of the interview may be quoted in full, as it enables us to see the nuances of the situation:
Jan. 13, 1793.[170]
M. Chauvelin as soon as he came into my room began by stating that he was desirous of explaining that all his steps subsequent to the date of my letter of Dec. 31 had been taken in consequence of positive instructions from the Conseil Exécutif, given before they had received that letter. That they had seen in that letter one thing which had been satisfactory to them, notwithstanding the other things of which they might complain—this was the assurance which enabled them to reject the idea entertained by some persons in France of its being the intention of the Government here to declare war at all events. Under this assurance they had authorized him to give to their answer a form which was not liable to the exceptions which had before been taken. He then gave me the despatch from M. Le Brun. When I had read it I told him only that the circumstances were too critical for me to say anything as to its contents except to refer him to the answer which I should be [sic] to give to it.
He then said that there was one other point which he was desirous of mentioning. That one of the difficulties of the present situation of the two Countries was the want of a proper channel of communication. That he himself, from having no access to the King's Ministers, was frequently unable to give accounts of their real views and intentions. That he was therefore to desire the permission to see me often sous la même forme that he had now come [sic].
I told him that this was a point on which I was unwilling to take upon myself personally to give him an answer; but that he should have one; and in order to avoid mistakes I repeated to him the phrase, that his request was to see me sous la même forme. He said "yes," and that this was conceived to be a means of arriving sooner at the object of his being allowed to present to the King the lettres de créance with which he was charged. As he did not express this quite distinctly, I asked him again whether I understood him right; that his present request was only to communicate under the form in which he now came. He again assented to this, but in doing it threw out that he had almost had direct orders from the Conseil Exécutif to apply for permission to present his letters. He however expressly assented to my statement that the other was at present his only request.
Nothing else material passed, except justifications of himself from the imputation of treating on public business with some persons in this country with whom he had connections of private friendship and intercourse, and complaints of the manner in which he was treated in the newspapers. To neither of these points I said anything.[171]
It is not surprising that Grenville asked for time to consult his colleagues (probably also the King) before returning an answer to Lebrun's missive; for, though unobjectionable in form, it re-affirmed the French claims and justified all the proceedings of that Government. Lebrun accused the Pitt Cabinet of raising difficulties of form and of discovering hostile intentions where none existed. While repudiating the notion of annexing Belgium, he firmly adhered to the Scheldt decree. France, he declared, would respond to all appeals which emanated from the general will of a nation, and he even asserted that she could treat only with a Government which "is deemed the organ of the general will of the nation governed." If her efforts for peace failed, she would fight England with regret but without fear.[172]
In effect, then, this despatch held out no hope of a reconciliation. There came with it, however, a long and rambling letter from Maret to Miles, which was intended partly to threaten, partly to cajole the Ministry. In its more dulcet passages the hope was set forth that the Scheldt affair could be settled, and even that Chauvelin might be replaced by the estimable Barthélemy. Miles, highly elated, hurried to the Foreign Office on that momentous Sunday, 13th January, and found that a Cabinet meeting was proceeding. Pitt came out and cordially received Maret's note. He returned to the Cabinet meeting (at which, strange to say, Burke was present) but came out again "furious, freighted with the bile of the whole Cabinet," and forbade Miles to have any dealings with the French Executive Council.[173]