Frederick had taken the field in the month of April, and had marched into Silesia, where the fortress of Schweidnitz was threatened by the Austrian general, Laudon. On his approach, Laudon retreated into Bohemia, where he was joined by fresh columns of Russians under Marshal Butterlin. At the same time another Russian horde, under Romanzow, re-occupied Pomerania. The Austrian and Russian generals conceived that they could hem in Frederick, and prevent his escape; but aware of his danger, the skilful monarch threw himself into his fortified camp of Buntzelwitz, from behind the strong ramparts of which he laughed his enemies to scorn. A blockade was attempted, but the country, wasted by long wars, had become like a wilderness, and afforded no food either for man or horse; while their provision-waggons, 5000 in number, had all been taken by a flying column of Prussians, under General Platen, who had also destroyed three of the largest magazines which the Russians had established on the confines of Poland. Famine stared them in the face, and breaking up their blockade, Butterlin marched into Pomerania, and Laudon to an entrenched camp, near Fribourg. Thus relieved, Frederick marched towards Upper Silesia, which proved to be an unfortunate movement; for Laudon, taking advantage of it, rushed from his entrenched camp, made an assault by night upon Schweidnitz, which lie took by storm, and then took up his winter-quarters in Silesia. About the same time the Russians, assisted by the Swedes, took Colberg, which enabled them to winter in Pomerania and Brandenburg.
In the meantime the arms of the English had, for the most part, been successfully employed. Pondicherry, the capital settlement of the French in, the East Indies, and their last stronghold in that country, surrendered at discretion to Colonel Coote, after the garrison and inhabitants had been reduced to the necessity of feeding on the flesh of camels and elephants, and even upon dogs and vermin. In the West Indies, also, Lord Rollo and Sir James Douglas reduced the island of Dominica, which, contrary to treaty, had been fortified by the French. A less important conquest was made on the coast of Brittany. A secret expedition, which had been for some time in preparation, suddenly sailed from Spithead, and under the command of Commodore Kepple, with troops on board under General Hodgson, took its course across the Channel. Great things were expected as the result of this expedition, but it only enacted the old story of “The mountain in labour.” The point against which this force was directed was the sterile rock of Bellisle, which, at the expense of two thousand lives, was captured. Thus disappointed, the people complained of the obstinacy of Pitt, and asked, sarcastically, what could be done with it? Nevertheless, if it was no use to England, it was a place of importance to France, as commanding a large extent of coast, and affording a convenient receptacle to privateers, whence it was insisted on as a valuable article of exchange, when peace was concluded between the two nations.
THE RESIGNATION OF MR. PITT.
At this time France was rapidly sinking under the efforts made to sustain war. Many of her colonies were conquered, her navy was ruined, and her finances exhausted, while the people were impoverished and discontented. Under these circumstances the king wished for repose and peace, and in this wish, Sweden, Poland, and even Russia were ready to join. Austria alone, whose empress-queen was bent on the recovery of Silesia, and the overthrow of its conqueror Frederick, was desirous of prolonging hostilities.
This wish of the king of France—which was also the wish of his people—seemed to be favoured by circumstances in England. The influence of Pitt was daily growing weaker, and Bute was fast gaining paramount ascendancy. The French ministers, therefore, flattered themselves that there would be no great difficulty in negociating; especially as they were ready and willing to make some sacrifices, in order to obtain peace. Accordingly an interchange of memorials was commenced, and in the month of July Mr. Stanley was dispatched to Paris, while the Count de Bussy came over to London, for the purpose of negociating. Preliminaries were mutually proposed and examined. On their part the French offered to cede Canada; to restore Minorca in exchange for Guadaloupe and Marigalante; to give up Senegal and Goree for Anamaboo and Acra; to renounce all claim to Cape Breton, on which no fortification was to be erected; and to consent that Dunkirk should be demolished. But one demand made by the French was fatal to the success of the negociations. They demanded the restitution of all the captures made at sea by the English before the declaration of war, on the ground that such captures were contrary to all international law, which restitution was sternly and absolutely refused, the English ministers arguing, that the right of all hostile operations results not from a formal declaration of war, but from the original hostilities of the aggressor. Another obstacle in the way of peace, was the refusal of the French to restore Cassel, Gueldres, and other places which they had taken from his Prussian majesty, although they were ready to evacuate what they occupied in Hanover. And as if these obstacles were not sufficient, the French preliminaries were accompanied by a private memorial, demanding from England the satisfaction of certain claims advanced by Spain, a country with which, though differences existed, England was at peace. The French ambassador was given to understand on this point, that the king of England would never suffer his disputes with Spain to be thus mixed up with the negociations carrying on with his country, and the cabinet called upon the Spanish ambassador to disavow all participation in such a procedure, and to state that his court was neither cognizant of it, nor wished to blend its trifling differences with the weighty quarrels of France. But this demand produced an unlooked-for budget, The Spanish ambassador at first returned an evasive reply, but he was soon authorized by the court of Spain to declare, that the proceedings of the French envoy had the entire sanction of his Catholic majesty; and that, while his master was anxious for peace, he was united as much by mutual interest as by the ties of blood with the king of France. The fact is, Charles III., who now occupied the throne of Spain, had privately agreed, before this date, with the King of France, to consider every power as their common enemy who might become the enemy of either, and to afford mutual succours by sea and land. It had been also stipulated between them, that no proposal of peace to their common enemies was to be made except by common consent; that the two monarchs were to act as if they formed one and the same power; that they should maintain for each other all the possessions which they might possess at the conclusion of peace; and finally, that the King of Naples might be allowed to participate in their treaty, though no other family, except a prince of the house of Bourbon, was to be admitted into this family compact.
Negociations for peace, therefore, proved abortive. Even Bute considered many of the proposals of the French if not insulting to the majesty of the British nation, at least inadmissible. Yet these négociations resulted in the downfall of Pitt. At the council-table, that great minister represented that Spain was only waiting for the arrival of her annual plate-fleet from America, and then she would declare war. He proposed, therefore, that her declaration should be anticipated by England: that war should be forthwith proclaimed against Spain, and a fleet sent out to intercept her ships and treasures from the western world. He likewise proposed an immediate attack upon her colonies; recommending the capture of the Havannah and the occupation of the Isthmus of Panama, from whence an expedition might be sent against Manilla and the Philippine Isles, to intercept the communication between the continent of South America and the rich regions of the East. It suited the purpose of Bute, however, to raise the laugh of incredulity as to the declaration of war by Spain, questioning, at the same time, the real meaning of the treaty entered into between the two Bourbons. The other members of the cabinet also—Lord Temple excepted—pronounced the measures proposed by Pitt too precipitate, and he had no alternative but to resign; especially as he found, also, that the king was adverse to his schemes. Accordingly, on the 6th of October, Pitt delivered up his seals to the king, which his majesty received with ease and firmness, but without requesting him to resume them. The monarch, notwithstanding, lamented to him the loss of so valuable a servant, while he declared that even if his cabinet had been unanimous for war with Spain, he should have found great difficulty in consenting to such a measure. Pitt was affected by the kind, yet dignified, behaviour of the young king. “I confess, sire,” said he, with emotion, “I had but too much reason to expect your majesty’s displeasure: I did not come prepared for this exceeding goodness: pardon me, sir; it overpowers,—it oppresses me.”
Pitt retired with a pension of £3,000 per annum, which was to be continued for three lives. The peerage was offered him, but he declined it personally, accepting it only for his wife and her issue. He was succeeded in office by Lord Egremont, son of the great Tory, Sir William Wyndam. At the same time Lord Temple retired from office, and the privy seal was given to the Duke of Bedford. The resignation of Mr. Pitt, with his honours and rewards, were published in the Gazette on the following day, and in the same paper a letter was published from the English ambassador at Madrid, which was replete with assurances of the pacific intentions of Spain. On this circumstance, combined with the resignation of Mr. Pitt, Burke remarks:—“It must be owned that this manouvre was very skilfully executed: for it at once gave the people to understand the true motive to the resignation, the insufficiency of that motive, and the gracious-ness of the king, notwithstanding the abrupt departure of his minister. If after this the late minister should choose to enter into opposition, he must go into it loaded and oppressed with the imputation of the blackest ingratitude; if, on the other hand, he should retire from business, or should concur in support of that administration which he had left, because he disapproved its measures, his acquiescence would be attributed by the multitude to a bargain for his forsaking the public, and that the title and his pension were the considerations. These were the barriers that opposed against that torrent of popular rage which it was apprehended would proceed from this resignation. And the truth is, they answered their end perfectly.”
This reasoning of Mr. Burke was strictly correct. The friends and partisans of Mr. Pitt raised violent clamours against Bute, for displacing a man who had raised the nation from its once abject state to the pinnacle of glory; and addresses, resolutions, and condolences were set on foot in London and the greater corporations, with a view of exciting the smaller cities and boroughs in England to follow the example. The press, also, was active in vilifying Bute for the part he had taken in this affair. But Bute had his friends as well as his enemies, and Pitt had his enemies as well as his friends. The press worked on both sides of the question; while it vilified Bute, it animadverted on Pitt’s pensions and honours. At the same time the people were only partially in the favour of the ex-minister. The progress of addresses, resolutions, and condolences was languid, and in some instances the people were disposed to cast odium upon, and to blacken the character of, the retired secretary. The popularity of Pitt was, in truth, obscured with mists and clouds for a time, and it was not till after he had raised a few thunder-storms of opposition, that his political atmosphere once again became radiant with the sunshine of prosperity. For the mind of Pitt was not to be long borne down by its heavy weight of gratitude to royalty, or by public accusations: he soon shook off the one, and resolutely braved the other.