CHAPTER XIX.
Summary—The Function of Sea Power and the Policy of Great Britain in the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars.
THE outbreak of the French Revolutionary War found Great Britain unprepared. For nearly ten years her course had been directed by the second Pitt, who, though inheriting the lofty spirit and indomitable constancy of his father, yet loved peace rather than war, and sought the greatness and prosperity of his country through the development of her commerce and manufactures and the skilful management of her finances. He strove also consistently for the reduction of expenditure, including that for the military, and even for the naval establishment. As late as February 17, 1792, when the Revolution had already been nearly three years in progress and France was on the eve of declaring war against Prussia and Austria, he avowed his expectation of many years of peace for the British empire; and the estimates provided for only sixteen thousand seamen and marines. "Unquestionably," said he, "there never was a time in the history of this country, when, from the situation of Europe, we might more reasonably expect fifteen years of peace than at the present moment." When the war with Germany began, Great Britain proclaimed and steadily maintained an attitude of neutrality; and the Minister asserted over and over again, to France and to her enemies, the intention not to interfere with the internal affairs of that country. This purpose continued unshaken through the tremendous events of the succeeding summer and autumn; through the assaults on the Tuileries on June 20 and August 10, through the suspension of the king which immediately followed the latter date, through the revolting massacres of September, finally through the deposition of the King and the proclamation of the Republic. Doubtless these events gave a series of shocks to public opinion in Great Britain, alienating the friends and embittering the enemies of the Revolution; doubtless whatever sympathy with the French advance towards freedom the ministers felt was chilled and repelled by the excesses and anarchy which marked its steps; but, whatever their personal feelings, no indication appears, either in their public actions or in their private correspondence as since revealed, of any intention to depart from a strict, even though cold, neutrality, until near the end of the year 1792.
The leaders of the party in France, which at this time was exerting the greatest influence upon the course of the Revolution, had long favored war with foreign nations, as the surest means to destroy the monarchy and unite public feeling in favor of the Republic and of the Revolution. The course of events had justified their forecast. Prussia and Austria had given provocation; and, although the latter at least would not have proceeded to extremes, war had been proclaimed and the fall of the monarchy had followed. There was, however, one nation with which the revolutionists imagined themselves to be in sympathy, and which they thought also as a whole sympathized with them. That nation was the English; between England and France there was to be friendship, and concurrence of effort to a common end. Herein the French leaders fatally misconceived the character of English freedom, and the nature of its successive advances to the conditions in which it then stood, and through which Englishmen hoped for yet further enlargement. Reverence for the past, and, in the main, for the existing order of things; profound regard for law and for an orderly method of making needful changes; a constant reference to the old rights and customs of the English people; respect for vested rights, for agreements, for treaties,—such were the checks which had modified and controlled the actions of the English, even when most profoundly moved. The spirit which dominated the French Revolution was that of destruction. The standard, by which all things human were to be tried, was a declaration of human rights put forth by its leaders, which contained indeed many noble, true, and most essential principles; but, if aught existing did not at once square with those principles, the forces of the Revolution were to advance against it and sweep it from the face of the earth. No respect for the past, no existent prescriptive rights, no treaties that seemed contrary to natural rights, were to control the actions of the revolutionists. They were to destroy, and to rebuild from the foundation, according to their own interpretation of what justice demanded.
The courses and aims, therefore, of the two nations were wholly divergent, and, as these were but the expression in either case of the national temper, the hope of sympathy and concurrence was delusive; but it was a natural delusion, fostered in the hearts of the sanguine Frenchmen by the utterances of many warm-hearted friends of freedom in the rival nation, and by the more violent words of a limited number of revolutionary societies. The former of these were, however, quickly alienated by the atrocities which began to stain the progress of the Revolution; while the latter, being supposed by the French leaders to represent the feeling of the British nation, as distinguished from its Government, contributed to draw them further in that path of reckless enmity to existing institutions which led to the war with Great Britain.
Still, so long as the exponents of French public feeling confined themselves to violent and irregular action within their own borders, and to declamations, which did not go beyond words, against the governments and institutions of other nations, the British ministry remained quiet, though watchful. There are extant private letters, written in the early part of November, 1792, by the Prime Minister, and by his relative, Lord Grenville, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, which indicate that they rejoiced in having maintained the neutrality of Great Britain, and that they looked forward to its continuance, though with anxiety. But on the 19th of that month the National Convention, which then comprised within itself both the executive and legislative functions of the French Government, adopted a declaration that it would grant fraternity and succor to all people who should wish to recover their liberty; [471] and it charged administrative officers to give republican generals the necessary orders to carry help to those people and to defend their citizens who had been molested, or who might be subject to molestation, on account of their devotion to the cause of liberty. As if further to emphasize the scope of this decree, for such in effect it was, it was ordered to be translated and printed in all languages.
By this official action the French Government had taken a great and important step, radically modifying its relations to all other states. The decree did not mention the governments with which France was then at war, limiting to their people the application of its terms. On the contrary, when a member of the Convention, a month later, proposed to insert words which should restrict its operation to those peoples "against whose tyrants France was, or should hereafter be, at war," and gave, as his reason, to remove the uneasiness of Great Britain, the motion found no support. The previous question was moved, and the Convention passed on to other business. [472]
The men who then wielded the power of France had thus gone beyond a simple inveighing against other governments, and the mere use of words calculated to excite discontent among the people of other states, and had announced an intention to interfere forcibly in their internal affairs whenever called upon to do so by citizens who, in the opinion of the French Government, were deprived of their just liberty or molested in their efforts to recover it. The anarchist of our own day, who contents himself with verbally attacking existing laws and institutions, however vehemently, may remain untouched so long as he confines himself to the expression and advocacy of his opinions; but when he incites others to action in order to carry out his ideas, he is held responsible for the effect of his words; and when he takes measures leading to violence, he is open to arrest and punishment. Such as this, among governments, was the step taken by France in November, 1792. She not only incited the citizens of other states to rebellion, but announced her intention of supporting them, and gave to her generals the necessary orders for carrying that purpose into effect.
Meanwhile the Austrian Netherlands was rapidly overrun and annexed to the French Republic, which thus abandoned the lofty posture of disinterestedness, and the disclaimers of all desire for conquest which the leaders of the Revolution had made from the tribune of the Convention. Soon after followed a decree declaring the navigation of the Scheldt, the great artery of Belgium, open to the sea. This set aside, without negotiation, the compacts of the previous owners of the Netherlands, by which the navigation of the river from the sea was reserved to Holland, within whose territory the mouth lay,—an agreement consecrated by renewed treaties, and which, by long standing, had become part of the public law of Europe. The act strikingly showed the determination of the French leaders to disregard treaties which conflicted with their construction of the natural rights of man; for they were at peace with Holland, yet made no attempt to obtain their end by negotiation.