A congress assembled at Basle; the French Republic treated there with Tuscany, Prussia, and Sweden. England secretly prepared a descent upon the coast of Brittany, to second the royalist uprisings of the French noblemen and peasants designated by the name of Chouans. M. de Puisaye, who had negotiated this measure with Mr. Pitt, had charge of the Emigré's. The English fleet was successful at first. Lord Bridport captured two vessels from Admiral Villaret-Joyeuse. The French refugees disembarked in the Bay of Quiberon; but the command was divided, and the orders contradictory. Disorder caused inaction. The arrival of the Count d'Artois was anxiously awaited, but he did not appear. General Hoche successfully attacked the little body of Emigré's. The roughness of the sea rendered the succor of the English ineffectual. The massacre was horrible. A certain number of noblemen capitulated; the conditions of the surrender were not respected; the prisoners were executed. The last military hope of the royalists disappeared in this bloody and unfortunate enterprise. The war of the Vendéeans and that of the Choans terminated at the same time.
The Constitution of the third year of the republic had just been proclaimed in France, and the Directory had been constituted. An attempt of the ancient Jacobins had been crushed, on the 13th Vendémaire (October 5th, 1795), by the prompt and energetic intervention of General Bonaparte.
Mr. Pitt now began to show a desire for peace. The opening of Parliament (October 29th, 1795), was signalized by unusual violence. Seditious cries were heard in the streets during the passage of the king; a window of the royal carriage was broken by a stone. Severe measures, like the Treason and Sedition Bills, were soon presented to the houses: all insults to the royal person, and all seditious assemblages, became liable to the gravest penalties. Notwithstanding the eloquent and persistent opposition of Mr. Fox and his friends in the House of Commons, and of Lord Lansdowne in the House of Lords, the two bills passed by a large majority. In the presence of the national and popular dangers, the minister remained master of parliament: his measures for the relief of public misery were received with the same eagerness, as his bold and courageous efforts for the protection of the public morals and the public peace.
While these great and important events were transpiring, at home and abroad, the Prince of Wales broke with Mrs. Fitzherbert, to the great joy of the king and queen, who had always refused to admit the legitimacy of the marriage. On the 8th of April, 1795, he espoused the Princess Caroline of Brunswick; a sad and dolorous union, the fatal consequences of which were not slow in developing themselves. On the 7th of January, 1796, the Princess Charlotte was born; some weeks later the prince left his wife, who then established herself, with her child, in a house at Blackheath. George III., justly wounded at the conduct of his son, promptly sustained the cause of the princess. The misunderstanding which had so long existed in the royal family was still further increased by this unfortunate incident.
Some indirect overtures for peace were made by Mr. Wickham, the English minister in Switzerland, to M. Barthélemy, who represented France at Basle. The disposition which had dictated them, excited the anger as well as the fears of the avowed enemies of the French Revolution. Burke, old and disheartened, published his last work: "Letters on a Regicide Peace." "The simple desire to treat," said he, "displays an internal weakness. For a people who have been great and proud, such a change of national sentiment is more terrible than any revolution."
Burke directed his last philippic against the powerful and pacific Pitt, as well as against Fox and the friends of the French Revolution. He had, nevertheless, conceived for Mr. Pitt a sincere admiration and a just gratitude. Since 1794, a pension of £1200 had been assigned upon the Civil List for the use of Mr. Burke and his family. In 1795, after his irremedial misfortune in the loss of his son, the solicitude of the king and his minister added a new pension of £2500 to the just tribute of the national estimate of a worthy man and great orator. Burke then wrote to Mr. Pitt that he had provided for the repose of a life that was now nearly extinguished. He (Burke) had only to wish him all the blessings that he might expect at the flower of his age, and in the great position that he occupied, a position full of severe labor, but having great glory as the reward of his efforts; he had the prospect of a long and laborious career; all was difficult and formidable, but he was called to this position, and his talents would render him successful. He (Burke) hoped that by the grace of God he would never doubt those talents, nor his cause, nor his country. There was one thing that he prayed for, that the minister—England's last hope—would not fall into that great error from which there was no relief. He hoped that the Divine Mercy would convince both him and the nation that this war, in principle, and in all its bearings, was unlike any other war; and he also hoped that Pitt would not believe that what was called peace with these brigands of France, would be able, in the name of any policy whatever, to reconcile itself with the internal repose, the external peace, the power or the influence of this kingdom; this, to him, was as evident as the sun at mid-day; and this conviction had cost him, during the last five years, in the midst of many other profound griefs, many hours of anxiety, both night and day.
Influenced by the events which had taken place upon the continent, Mr. Pitt had gradually been led to the adoption of those very ideas, and that line of policy that Mr. Burke so much deprecated. The confederation of the great powers was broken up in 1795, by the Congress of Basle. On the 9th of February, 1795, the grand Duke of Tuscany signed articles of peace at Paris. Prussia consented to leave the French in undisturbed possession of their conquest upon the left bank of the Rhine. Sweden and Northern Germany acceded to the same conditions; the treaty of peace, concluded at Basle, with Spain (July 22nd, 1795), became, on the 19th of August, 1796, a compact of alliance. The King Charles III., exclusively controlled by the Queen, Louisa of Parma, and her favorite Manuel Godoy, Prince de la Paix, declared war with England on the 6th of October. The Bourbons of Naples joined Spain. The maritime attempts of England against distant French colonies were successful. The Antilles fell into the hands of Sir Ralph Abercromby and Col. John Moore. These victories gave a new life to the hopes of a happy issue to the pacific negotiations which Lord Malmsbury was about to undertake. At the opening of Parliament, on the 6th of October, 1796, the address from the throne announced the departure of the ambassador to Paris.
Negotiations were begun. At the same time, the Directory made great preparations for an invasion of England. Twenty times like enterprises had been projected and attempted; twenty times they miscarried or failed. Nevertheless, they still had the power of arousing and alarming the English people. When Pitt proposed his plans of defence, Fox had, as usual, recourse to an insulting incredulity. "I do not believe," said he, "that the French have the least intention of making a descent upon us. Their government is too much under the control of the people, and the situation of the country, to hope for any success from such an enterprise. Supposing they make this desperate attempt, I have no fears for the result; but, in the interval, what are we to do? What is for the moment the duty of this house? To cultivate among the people the spirit of liberty, to render to them that which their fathers have acquired at the price of their blood; to render the ministers seriously responsible; not to intrust ourselves to the servants of the crown, but to maintain a vigilant jealousy over the exercise of their power. Then you will have no need to increase your military forces at home, for in that case, even an invasion would not be formidable."
To these persistent hatreds and partisan animosities, public opinion proclaimed a determined and serious opposition. "I do not wish to accuse these gentlemen of desiring an invasion," said Mr. Wilberforce, "but I cannot help believing that they would rejoice to see their country suffer just enough to lead them into power."
When Pitt opened his great loan to public subscription, the sum required, amounting to £18,000,000, was taken within fifteen hours. When that figure was reached, the list was closed. Before it was opened to the general public, the Dukes of Bedford and Bridgewater subscribed, at sight, for £100,100. The method of subscription was new, and the conditions of the loan were not especially advantageous. The patriotic zeal of the nation responded to the confident appeal of the government. We have since seen a still greater example. The minister, Mr. Pitt, had the courage to attempt it; he had at the same time the courage to propose new taxes.
The devotion of Parliament was equal to any sacrifice. Considerable subsidies were also voted for the Emperor of Austria, notwithstanding the dissatisfaction that Mr. Pitt had caused, by giving assistance to that monarch, in the interval of the session, without the authority of the houses. Lord Malmesbury was dissatisfied and uneasy; the Directory insisted upon the annexation of the Low Countries to France; the refusal of England was peremptory. On the 19th of December, 1796, Delacroix, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, requested the English Ambassador to quit Paris within forty-eight hours, with all his suite. The French government admitted of no proposition which tended to modify the limits of her territory, as they had been fixed by the decrees of the Convention. "If the English minister truly desires peace," added Delacroix, "France is ready to conclude it upon this basis: an exchange of couriers is all that is necessary."
It was impossible for the king and his government to hesitate: the documents relative to the negotiations were immediately communicated to Parliament. "In fact," said Mr. Pitt to the House of Commons, "the question is, not how much you will give for peace, but how much disgrace you will suffer at the outset; how much degradation you will submit to as a preliminary. Shall we then persevere in a war, with a spirit and energy worthy of the British name and character; or shall we, by sending couriers to Paris, prostrate ourselves at the feet of a stubborn, supercilious government?"
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Surrender To Nelson At Cape St. Vincent.
The war, more than ever burdensome and perilous, continued. The Empress Catherine II. had just died of an attack of apoplexy; her son, the Emperor Paul, feeble and impetuous, with a mind uneven—tending to insanity, was ill disposed towards England. The brilliant successes of General Bonaparte in Italy, had worn out the energy of the Austrians; the French had invaded the hereditary states of the Emperor, heroically defended by the Archduke Charles. The preliminaries of peace, signed at Leoben, on the 18th of April, 1797, were ratified at Campo Formio on the 17th of October, 1797. Henceforth, in this great struggle, England found herself alone; she was confronted by the passionate ardor and success of the young French Republic, as well as the incomparable genius of her military chief.
The attempt of General Hoche upon Ireland, was a complete failure; a severe storm scattered the fleet, destroyed some of the vessels, and prevented any landing. On the 14th of February, 1797, near Cape St. Vincent, Sir John Jervis gained a signal victory over the Spanish squadron, commanded by Don Joseph de Cordova. Commodore Nelson and Captain Collingwood bore the brunt of the conflict. "Westminster Abbey or Victory," cried Nelson, as he boarded a Spanish ship of twenty-four guns. "He was standing upon the bridge," wrote Collingwood, "receiving the submission and the swords of the officers of the two ships that he had captured. One of his sailors, named William Fearney, tied the swords together as tranquilly as if they had been fagots, in spite of the fact that they were within the range of the cannon of the enemy's twenty-four ships of the line."
For a moment the maritime power of England seemed threatened by a greater danger, from the failure of supplies, owing to financial crises at home, than from any attacks of the enemy. The state of the finances became each day more grave; orders were given to the Bank of England to make no payment of more than twenty shillings, in cash. The substitution of paper money, for a limited time, was voted by Parliament. Merchants and men of business courageously faced the necessity; others, ordinarily accustomed to brave all dangers, but for some time discontented and irritated, threatened the country, at this time, with a fatal blow. In the middle of April, 1797, a military insurrection broke out on board the ships of Lord Bridport, who commanded the channel fleet. The precautions of the conspirators were so well taken, that the officers were deposed, sent on shore, or guarded as hostages, without a drop of blood being spilled. The sailors demanded an increase of pay, equivalent to that which the army and militia had received. They complained of the unjust distribution of prizes, and of the harshness of certain officers.
The first demand had exaggerated nothing; it was not insolent, either in fact or in form. Admirals Gardner, Colpoys and Pole, were appointed to confer with delegates from the mutineers. They refused to act without the sanction of Parliament. Admiral Gardner, giving way to passion, seized, by the collar one of the negotiators, and swore that he would hang them all.
Some days later the fire which was smouldering under the ashes, broke forth anew; the officers were again deposed. As Admiral Colpoys, who had remained with two ships at Portsmouth, had refused to receive the delegates, the mutiny became more violent; The Marlborough and The London got under way for St. Helena, without orders. The intervention of the aged Lord Howe, always popular among the sailors, was necessary to finally suppress the revolt; and even then it was at the price of concessions so important that the contagion soon spread to other squadrons. A proclamation of the king, yielding in substance to the demands of the sailors, was read on board of all the ships. They returned to their duty, and the fleet at once set sail for St. Helena.
At Sheerness, under the inspiration of Richard Parker, an enlisted volunteer, intelligent, educated, ambitious, and corrupt, the insurgent sailors concentrated their forces and withdrew prudently from the coast; they sailed for the Nore. They soon attacked the vessels which had remained faithful to the king, among others the San Fiorenzo, a noble frigate, which was intended to take the Princess Royal and her husband the Duke of Wurtemburg to Germany.
A greater part of the fleet of Lord Duncan joined the mutiny, thus abandoning the blockade of Holland. Two ships only remained faithful to the admiral. He continued his signals, as if the main part of his fleet was still in view; but his patriotism was profoundly wounded. "It has often been my pride to look with you into the Texel, and see a foe which dreaded coming out to meet us; my pride is now humbled indeed," said he.
The government also trembled for the army, now a prey to a fermentation that was augmented by seditious placards. Indications of a revolt manifested themselves at Woolwich.
The mutinous ships raised the red flag—that terrible pirates' signal; they blockaded the mouth of the Thames. The first Lord of the Admiralty, Lord Spencer, failed in his attempts at conciliation. Parliament passed two bills, inflicting the most severe penalties against any attempt to excite a mutiny, and interdicting all communication with the rebellious fleet. England, in fact, exiled the sailors who had revolted against her. This was a most serious blow to the mutineers. The sailors, still faithful to their duty, made an appeal to their comrades. The delegates, however, were hard and tyrannical. On the 4th of June, the king's birthday, all but one of the revolted ships hoisted the royal flag, and that one was the Sandwich, on board of which was Richard Parker; he himself sent to London new propositions. Lord Northesk, one of the imprisoned captains, charged with this message, was received by the king in person. Henceforward the monarch refused all negotiations with his rebellious subjects, and exacted from them submission without conditions. One by one, the crews cut their cables, and took refuge under the batteries of Sheerness; the ships of Lord Duncan sailed out to join them; only the delegates, who held the Sandwich, still resisted. Their crew deserted them, and Admiral Buchner sent a detachment to arrest Parker and his accomplices. Some weeks later Parker was hung at the yard arm of the Admiral's vessel, while the English sailors, repentant and confused, swore they would make their faults forgotten by new efforts of valor.
During this serious crisis, Mr. Fox and Lord Grey declared their intention of taking no further part in parliamentary discussions, as they could neither influence nor approve the policy of the government. Burke had died on the 9th of July, 1797. As the illustrious rivals of Pitt were withdrawn from the field, the leadership of the opposition fell into younger hands; Sir Francis Burdett and Mr. Tierney were among the first. Mr. Erskine, more celebrated at the bar than in the house, also became prominent. New negotiations with France were begun: "I believe it is my duty," said Mr. Pitt, "both as English Minister and as a Christian, to do all that I can to put an end to this bloody and ruinous war." Lord Malmesbury was sent to Lisle to treat with the French plenipotentiaries. The coup d'état of the 18th Fructidor (September 4th, 1799), placed all power in the hands of Barras and the Jacobins, who were hostile to all pacific concessions. Lord Malmesbury was dismissed. Some secret and venal propositions of Barras miscarried. The war continued, but England was uniformly successful at sea. On the 11th of October, a battle took place at Camperdown, in view of the Texel, between Admiral Duncan and the Dutch Admiral De Winter. The action was desperate, but a brilliant victory remained to the English. The Dutch Admiral was made prisoner. The evening after the battle he played whist in the cabin of Admiral Duncan: he lost. "It is too much," said Winter, throwing down his cards, "to be beaten twice the same day, and by the same adversary."
On his return from St. Paul's, where a service of public thanksgiving had been held, Mr. Pitt was hooted at by the populace; and on his return to his home in the evening, he was escorted by a squadron of the Horse Guards.
The affairs of Ireland had for a long time been the subject of serious consideration on the part of Mr. Pitt. He had used every possible means of conciliation; seeking to satisfy the Catholics by the founding of the College of Maynooth, for the education of the clergy, and at the same time loyally faithful to the liberal principles which had constantly inspired his conduct, in regard to that portion of the United Kingdom; but Ireland was the point of attack of all the French and revolutionary invasions. The Irish and democratic sentiments prevailed over their religious principles. Secret societies, everywhere existing, only awaited orders and assistance from France. The struggles which took place in the Irish Parliament were transformed into conspiracies. Lord Edward Fitzgerald, fifth son of the Duke of Leinster, put himself at the head of the United Irishmen. Acts of violence broke out in all sections. The Orangemen, as the Irish Protestants were called, were animated by passions no less violent. The habeas corpus was suspended.
Lord Camden, the Lord Lieutenant, ordered that all arms in the hands of private persons should be immediately delivered up. In reply to an address of Lord Moira, in the English Parliament, Lord Clare, the Irish Chancellor, said that a revolutionary government was completely organized, in opposition to the legal power. "What," said he, "has been the result of all our concessions during the past twenty years? The formation of seditious associations, a system of violence, and midnight robbery. Orders given by the Jacobin clubs of Dublin and Belfast to raise regiments of national guards with French uniforms and French tactics; the league of the United Irishmen; the resolution, frankly avowed, of accepting no overtures from Parliament; and the desire, scarcely dissimulated, of separation from England."
A dangerous outbreak was imminent; many of the leaders were arrested. Arthur O'Connor, with the Irish priest Coigley, on their way to Paris to hasten the promised supplies, were of the number. Lord Edward Fitzgerald was captured. He resisted, and was so seriously wounded that he died shortly afterwards.
The most severe measures against the conspirators followed the arrest of their chiefs. Stores of arms were found in many places, and it was necessary to take them by force; this naturally led to cruel reprisals. With the exception of Connaught, all Ireland was roused, and shortly became the theatre of the most frightful scenes of disorder, cruelty and desolation. The county of Wexford, above all, was delivered over to pillage and flames. Lord Cornwallis was appointed Lord Lieutenant, much against his will. "It is my idea of torture," wrote he to one of his friends. He nevertheless accepted the position. Sagacious to employ, in turn, severity and clemency, he was actively seconded by the Chancellor, Lord Clare, and young Lord Castlereagh. The rebellion was crushed. A French invasion, under the order of General Humbert, gained a momentary success, in consequence of the weakness, or treachery, of the Irish militia; it was soon repulsed, and the ships of the Republic were captured by Commodore Warren. The famous Irish leader, Wolfe Tone, the instigator of all the intrigues in France, was taken with arms in his hands; and while in prison, committed suicide. Byrne, Coigley, and many others were tried, convicted, and sentenced to capital punishment; a certain number, however, were subsequently pardoned. The alien bill, authorizing the government to interdict English soil to foreigners, and the suspension of the habeas corpus act, were accorded by Parliament without difficulty.
Pitt now prepared an important measure, that he had been considering for many years. The growing disorders in Ireland convinced him of the necessity of a legislative and parliamentary union between the two countries. On the 31st of January, 1799, he proposed his bill; already badly received by the Irish Parliament. The royal prerogative for the creation of Irish peers was not limited, as it became in the definitive bill.
By a clever rotation of elections in the boroughs, none of them completely lost their franchise. The number of the Irish representatives in the House of Commons was fixed at one hundred. The speech of the prime minister was one of the most eloquent ever made. Three times only, in the course of his life, did he consent to revise his addresses; the speech on the union with Ireland, was one that had that honor. In it he declared that England was engaged in a struggle the most important and solemn that had ever been seen in the history of the world; in a struggle where Great Britain alone ought to resist resolutely and with success, the common enemy of civilized society. They saw, he said, the point upon which the enemy believed them assailable; and should not prudence compel them to fortify that vulnerable point, engaged, as they were, in the struggle of liberty against despotism, of property against rapine and pillage, of religion and order against impiety and anarchy? And, on the other hand, if a country should be unable to defend itself against the greatest of all dangers which might threaten its peace and security, without the assistance of another nation, and that nation should be a neighbor and an ally, if she spoke the same language, if her laws, her customs, and her habits were the same in principle; if the commerce of that nation was more extended, and its means of acquiring and spreading abroad riches were more numerous; if that nation possessed a government, whose stability and admirable constitution excited more than ever the admiration of Europe, while the country in question possessed only an incomplete and imperfect imitation of that constitution; what, in such a case, would be the conduct demanded by all motives of equity, interest, and honor? "I ask you," said he, in conclusion, "if this is not a faithful exposition of the motives which ought to lead Ireland to desire union? I ask you, if Great Britain is not precisely the nation to which a country in the situation of Ireland, ought to desire to unite itself? Could a union contracted under such circumstances, with a free consent, and under equitable conditions, merit to be stigmatized as the submission of Ireland to a foreign yoke?"
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The Battle Of Aboukir.
The bill passed in the English Parliament by a large majority; but all the eloquence of its defenders, together with the clever maneuvres of Lords Cornwallis and Castlereagh, were not able to induce the Irish Parliament to pass similar resolutions, before the opening of the year 1800. Henry Grattan, long absent from the house, returned in order to oppose the union: "In all that he advances, the minister does not discuss—he predicts," said the Irish orator; "one cannot answer a prophet; all that one can do is not to believe. That which he wishes to buy of you, cannot be sold: it is liberty; in exchange he has nothing to offer you. All that possesses any value you have obtained under a free constitution; if you renounce it you are not only slaves, but madmen."
On the 10th of February, 1800, the bill presented by Lord Castlereagh and discussed with the most extreme violence, was finally passed by both houses of the Irish Parliament. On the 2nd of July it received the royal signature. Henceforth the union of Ireland and England was definitive, and useful and efficacious for both countries, notwithstanding the difficulties that it was still to encounter, and the bitterness that it left behind. This union was of the highest importance to the repose of Great Britain. Foreign invasions now ceased.
The expedition of General Bonaparte into Egypt diverted his attention from the projected invasion of England. It had led to the great naval battle of Aboukir (August 1st, 1799), where the French Admiral Brueys was killed and the English Admiral Nelson was severely wounded. The French fleet, after a heroic resistance, was conquered, and almost entirely destroyed. Bonaparte found himself shut up in Egypt, while war became again general in Europe. The Congress of Radstadt, intended to regulate the relations of France with the Germanic States, had not been successful, and was officially dissolved in August, 1799: a new coalition against the French Republic was formed, and henceforth England was supported by Austria, Russia, Naples, Portugal and Turkey. Hostilities broke out simultaneously in Switzerland, Italy, and Germany.
In this great struggle, sustained by France alone, against the European world, England took, from the commencement, an active and glorious part. An attempt upon Holland, under the direction of the Duke of York and Sir Ralph Abercromby, was unsuccessful. The finances and determined public opinion of Great Britain everywhere sustained the courage of her allies.
Bonaparte landed at Fréjus, leaving in Egypt his army under the command of General Kleber. Some days later he accomplished at Paris the Revolution of the 18th Brumaire (November 9th, 1799); the feeble government of the Directory was overturned, and General Bonaparte seized the power in his triumphant hands, inspiring in those rivals who were soon to become his lieutenants, the same ardor which animated himself. Before the end of the year the victories of Marengo (June 14th, 1800), of Hochstett (June 19th), and Hohenlinden (Dec. 3), changed the aspect of affairs. Conferences were opened at Luneville, between France, the Empire of Austria and the Germanic Confederation. On the 9th of February, 1801, peace was signed. The Rhine became the frontier of republican France, and the Adige that of the Cisalpine republic. At the same time the Emperor Paul I. was won over by the French, and at his instigation the armed neutrality against Great Britain was renewed by Russia, Sweden and Denmark. Once again England found herself alone against France, now governed by Bonaparte.
Almost immediately master of the situation in Paris, Bonaparte, at the beginning of his power, personally made overtures of peace to England, by a letter addressed directly to King George III. The ministry would not recognize this unusual proceeding, and Lord Grenville, the minister of Foreign Affairs, replied in the name of the king, refusing to treat alone without the co-operation of their allies.
When the question was brought before parliament, Mr. Pitt rose. "I am," said he, "too sincere a friend of peace, to content myself with possessing it only in name; I desire to follow that course that promises to assure definitively to this country and to Europe all its benefits. I am too sincere a friend of peace to lose it by seizing the shadow when the substance is really within my grasp: 'Cur igitur pacem nolo? quia infida est, quia periculosa, quia esse non potest.'" The minister was all powerful upon foreign questions in both houses. Notwithstanding the weariness of the nation, national pride and the confidence in Mr. Pitt inspired yet greater efforts. Never were the friends of the ministry more encouraged. In vain did Mr. Fox re-appear in the house, ardently and cleverly sustained by Lord Grey. "The proud and monumental architecture" of his eloquence crushed by its weight the powerful charm of his adversaries. In his hands England resisted, with an audacious calmness, coalesced Europe. So much power and so many victorious efforts were to fall before a double question of conscience. Sincerely and honestly liberal, Mr. Pitt was favorable to the political emancipation of the Catholics, and he also held himself pledged to further their cause, in consequence of the assistance they had given to his measures for the union with Ireland. Perhaps he mistook the resolution of the king regarding this question, and judged incorrectly of the effect that a great moral agony would be able to exercise over an intelligence as limited, and a soul as sincerely conscientious as that of George III.
The project for the emancipation of the Catholics had during several months been discussed, in the Council, without the knowledge of the king; but political treachery or honest scruples finally made it known to his Majesty. When Lord Castlereagh came to London, in the month of January, 1801, desirous of assuring himself that the intentions of Mr. Pitt remained the same, George III. suddenly addressed Mr. Dundas, an intimate friend of Pitt's, and who shared his opinions on this subject: "What!" he exclaimed, in a loud voice, "what is this, that this young lord has brought over which they are going to throw at my head? I shall reckon any man my personal enemy who proposes any such measure—the most Jacobinical thing I ever heard of!"
"You'll find," replied Dundas, "among those who are friendly to that measure, some you never supposed your enemies."
The king was greatly troubled. He wrote to the speaker, Mr. Addington, a friend of Pitt's, but still more a personal friend of the sovereign: "I know we think alike on this great subject. I wish that he would, front himself, open Mr. Pitt's eyes on the danger arising from the agitating this improper question, which may prevent his ever speaking to me on a subject on which I can scarcely keep my temper."
George III. believed himself solemnly bound by his coronation oath to refuse all liberal alterations of the Constitution, in favor of the Dissenters as well as of the Catholics. When he was questioned in regard to the abolition of the Test Act, he consulted Lord Kenyon and Sir John Scott upon that subject. Both were favorable to the maintenance of the measure; they nevertheless replied that it might be abrogated or modified, without violating his coronation oath or the act of union with Scotland. Less sincere, and less convinced, Lord Loughborough, with the complaisance of a courtier, and influenced by political ambition, had given his opinion to the contrary. His arguments strengthened the scruples of the king, who remained obstinately faithful. To the objections, addressed to him, in writing, by Mr. Pitt, he replied that he hoped the sentiment of duty would prevent Mr. Pitt from quitting, while he lived, the position which he occupied; he pledged himself to keep henceforth an absolute silence upon the great question on which they differed, on the condition that Mr. Pitt would absolutely refrain from presenting it—he could do no more.
The conscience of the minister was more enlightened and more firm than that of the monarch, and he also considered it engaged in the question. Political promises and parliamentary embarrassments prevailed in the mind of Pitt, over the grave danger of a ministerial crisis in the midst of a terrible war, and in the presence of financial difficulties, steadily increasing: he persisted in his resolution to retire. On the 5th of February, 1801. King George III. accepted sadly the resignation of his great minister. "I do not know how I could have acted otherwise," said Mr. Pitt to his friend Rose. "I have nothing to reproach myself for, unless it is not having sought sooner to reconcile the king with the idea of the measure in favor of the Catholics, or at least to persuade his Majesty not to take an active part in the question." "He was evidently painfully affected," added Rose; "tears were in his eyes, and he appeared much agitated."
In the presence of the pious and worthy scruples that troubled the conscience of his sovereign, it was without doubt a noble error on the part of Mr. Pitt to throw into the balance his own scruples and praiseworthy engagements; a grave error, moreover, and which was to greatly imperil England, to disturb anew a tottering reason, and to retard, more than it served, the cause of religious and political liberty for which Mr. Pitt had sacrificed all.
Mr. Pitt, on retiring, urged Mr. Addington to accept the control of the government. "Addington," said he, "I see nothing but ruin, if you hesitate." He at the same time urged his friends to retain their places; he even consented to present the Budget which had been prepared, and which was unanimously passed. His support of the new cabinet was assured; nevertheless, Dundas, who had followed his friend into retirement, wrote to him from Wimbledon, on the 7th of February, at the time when Mr. Addington was still endeavoring to form his ministry, that he did not know what the speaker would attempt, but he was convinced that any administration of which Addington was chief, could not fail to break, up almost as soon as formed. The devoted friends of Mr. Pitt, who had remained in office at his solicitation, saw this with regret and chagrin; and among their mortifications was the feeling that they had joined a ministry under a chief absolutely incapable of directing them. This was the general sentiment. Discouraged and sad, even before the cabinet was formed, the king remained pre-occupied and deeply agitated. He read over his coronation oath, and exclaimed: "Where is that power on earth to absolve me from the due observance of every sentence of that oath, particularly the one requiring me to maintain the Protestant reformed religion? Was not my family seated on the throne for that express purpose, and shall I be the first to suffer it to be undermined, perhaps overturned? No! I had rather beg my bread from door to door throughout Europe, than consent to any such measure. If I violate it, I am no longer legal sovereign of this country, but it falls to the House of Savoy."
So much emotion and foreboding anxiety, shattered the tottering reason of the monarch; he had lost that faithful support, that sure guide on whom he had relied for more than seventeen years past. The conscience of the king was agitated and troubled. Upon recovering from a swoon, the old king repeated this verse from the Psalms: "Forty years long was I grieved with this generation, and said, it is a people that do err in their hearts, for they have not known my ways." He murmured afterwards, "I am better, I am better now, but I will remain true to the Church."
The malady had declared itself, and public prayers were ordered. The Prince of Wales sent for Mr. Pitt—still minister, in fact. "I will not hesitate," said Mr. Pitt, "to give to your Highness the best counsel that I am able; but with all the respect that I owe you, there is one thing that I demand of you permission to establish. It is this condition: that your Highness will interdict yourself from deliberating with those who have agitated so long in direct opposition to the government of his Majesty." The prince consented; not, however, without some show of temper.
Fox had quitted his pleasant retreat at St. Ann's Hill. He counselled the prince to accept the limited regency, that Mr. Pitt intended to propose. Already steps had been taken to form a Whig cabinet, when the rapid improvement of the king's health gave the hope of avoiding yet, for a time, that dreaded regency. On Friday, the 6th of March, George III. passed the day in the apartments of the Queen. He charged his physician to inform Mr. Pitt of it. "Tell him that I am now quite well, quite recovered from my illness; but what has he not to answer for, who is the cause of my having been ill at all."
The sentiments of loyalty and personal attachment for the old king were profound in the reserved and proud soul of Mr. Pitt. The reproach of the sovereign deeply affected him. "Say to his Majesty," replied he to Dr. Willis, "that I have authorized you to assure him, that during his reign, whether in or out of office, I will never again agitate the question of Catholic Emancipation." The king drew a deep sigh. "Now my mind will be at ease," he exclaimed; and upon the queen's coming in, he repeated the message, and made the same observation upon it.
A moment after the question of conscience was decided, Mr. Pitt had some desire of yielding to the wishes of the king, and returning to power. Mr. Addington turned a deaf ear to the insinuations which were made to him upon the subject. Mr. Pitt did not insist; he had seen the king and reconciled him to his resignation. The Catholics, fully informed regarding all affairs, rendered their homage to Mr. Pitt for his fidelity to his engagements with them; they awaited their day. Pitt had just established himself in a small furnished house in Park Place. Poor, and without leisure to look after household matters, he was overwhelmed with debts. He had refused the patriotic gifts, as well as the liberalities of the king. He was now, however, compelled to accept, with great regret, the offers of his friends, and he borrowed from them the money necessary to pay his creditors. He sold his small estate at Holwood, and now lived very modestly. "Each day," writes Lord Stanhope, "when he came to the House of Commons, he took his place at the right of the speaker's chair, in the third row of benches, near one of the iron columns. Many years later I saw old members point out that place, in the old house, with a sentiment of veneration." His friends remained steadily faithful to him. They either followed him into retirement, as Dundas and the young Canning—perhaps his favorite disciple, assuredly the most celebrated; or they occupied, at his request, posts of confidence. "I have taken the great seal, only upon the advice and pressing solicitation of Mr. Pitt," said Lord Eldon, "and I will only keep it as long as I shall be able to live in perfect concord with him."
Wellington, at this time the Marquis of Wellesly and Governor-General of India, wrote to the fallen minister, that he counted sufficiently upon the testimony of his own heart, not to doubt that Mr. Pitt had full confidence in his fidelity to his cause, whatever the circumstances might be; when that cause should cease to prevail in the councils of the nation, he would hasten to free himself from the disgrace of office, in order to join Mr. Pitt in the fortress which it should please him to defend, wherever it might be. His political relations with Mr. Pitt, confirmed by so many ties of friendship, and by intimate testimonies of affection and private consideration, were not only the pride, but also the joy of his life; and that he could not support the idea of seeing Mr. Pitt other than the guide of his political conduct, the guardian of all that is dear and precious in the constitution and in the country; and the first object of his esteem, respect, and personal attachment.
That noble statesman, who had inspired such emotional and faithful respect in so many eminent men, was not insensible to the evidences of esteem and attachment lavished upon him; and, upon the other hand, the failure of many expectations, the forced abandonment of many cherished projects, caused him heartfelt regrets which he did not endeavor to conceal. The cabinet of Mr. Addington was being made up. Lord Grey attacked the conduct of the last government. Mr. Pitt arose, and avowed frankly the regret that he felt in quitting the power before concluding peace. He did not pretend, he said, to that indifference to the opinions of others, that certain persons affect; he was not indifferent to the situation of his country. He was not indifferent to the opinion that the public might have concerning the part, the too great part, that he had taken in it. He avowed, on the contrary, that those questions occupied him much. Events had happened which had deceived his most cherished desires, and baffled the favorite expectations of his heart. He would have desired to pursue, even to the end of the struggle, the object of these expectations and desires for the success of which he had labored with so much care and anxiety. He had not recoiled before obstacles. He had lived during the past seventeen years with very little effect, if it was necessary now to explain that he had not quitted his post because he feared the difficulties; he had always acted—good or evil; it did not pertain to him to decide which, but assuredly as a man who had not the air of fearing difficulties. He was able to say at least this: if he could efface from the record these seventeen years, and speak only of that which has taken place during the past two months, he would dare to affirm, that enough facts have been presented, in that interval, to efface the idea that he was disposed to recoil before any difficulty whatsoever, or that he desired to clear himself from any responsibility. That which had happened since that epoch, had given him the opportunity to prove, very positively, that he was ready to accept all the responsibility that the situation might be able to thrust upon him.
Even in his retirement, Pitt never avoided a responsibility, but was always ready to accept the weight of his past acts, and of his present counsels. An expedition, that he had planned, had just entered the Baltic. Sir Hyde Parker, who commanded it, had been appointed commander-in-chief. He was old and feeble; the dangers of the expedition affected his courage; the weather was bad. "We must brace up," said Nelson, second in command, to Parker; "these are no times for nervous systems."
On the 2nd of April, 1801, a decisive naval battle was fought. Nelson attacked the batteries and the enemy's squadron before Copenhagen. The old admiral, who had not taken an active part in the battle, seeing Nelson in danger, ordered signal No. 39—the signal for discontinuing the action, to be hoisted. The signal lieutenant asked if he should repeat it. "No," replied Nelson, "acknowledge it." He then continued walking about in great emotion, and meeting Captain Foley, said: "What think you, Foley, the admiral has hung out No. 39. You know I have only one eye; I have a right to be blind sometimes." And then putting the glass to his blind eye, he exclaimed, "I really don't see the signal. Keep mine for closer battle still flying. That's the way I answer such signals. Nail mine to the mast."
The victory was glorious. On landing, three days later, Nelson concluded an armistice with the crown Prince, by which Denmark abandoned the alliance of armed neutrality and the confederation against Great Britain. Some weeks later the Emperor Paul was assassinated, and the coalition of the powers of the north vanished. The first care of the new Russian Emperor was to restore liberty to English sailors.