[122] Dr. Ramsay says: "Pathetic representations were made to the Ministers of his Most Christian Majesty by Washington, Dr. Franklin, and particularly by Lieutenant-Colonel John Laurens, who was sent to the Court of Versailles as a special Minister on this occasion. The King of France gave the United States a subsidy [as a present] of six millions of livres, and became their security for ten millions more, borrowed for their use in the United Netherlands." (History of the United States, Vol. II., Chap. xxiii., p. 407.)
APPENDIX B. TO CHAPTER XXXVII.
Reflections of Lord Mahon on the American Contest and its Results—Apology for George the Third—Unhappiness of Americans since the Revolution—Unity of the Anglo-Saxon Race.
At this period (Declaration of Independence), the culminating point in the whole American war, I may be forgiven for desiring to interrupt its narrative in order to review its course and its results. That injurious and oppressive acts of power had been inflicted by England upon America, I have in many places shown, and do most fully acknowledge. That from the other side, and above all from Massachusetts, there had been strong provocation, I must continue to maintain. I should not deem it consistent with candour to deny that the Americans had sufficient ground for resisting, as they did resist, the Ministerial and Parliamentary measures. But whether these had yet attained a pitch to justify them in discarding and renouncing their allegiance to the Throne is a far more doubtful question—a question on which perhaps neither an Englishman nor yet an American could quite impartially decide.
"The time has come, however, as I believe and trust, when it is possible to do equal justice to the many good and upright men who in this great struggle embraced the opposite sides. The great mass of the people meant honestly on both shores of the Atlantic. The two chief men in both countries were alike pure-minded. On the one side there were deeds that savoured of tyranny; on the other side there were deeds that savoured of rebellion; yet at heart George the Third was never a tyrant, nor Washington ever a rebel. Of Washington I most firmly believe, that no single act appears in his whole public life proceeding from any other than public, and those the highest motives. But my persuasion is no less firm that there would be little flattery in applying the same terms of respect and commendation to the 'good old king.' I do not deny, indeed, that some degree of prejudice and pride may, though unconsciously, have mingled with his motives. I do not deny that at the outset of these troubles he lent too ready an ear to the glozing reports of his governors and deputies, the Hutchinsons or Olivers, Gateses, Dunmores, etc., assuring him that the discontents were confined to a factious few, and that measures of rigour and repression alone were needed. For such measures of rigour he may deserve, and has incurred, his share of censure. But after the insurgent colonies had proclaimed their independence, is it just to blame King George, as he often has been blamed, for his steadfast and resolute resistance to that claim? Was it for him, unless after straining every nerve against it, to forfeit a portion of his birthright and a jewel of his crown? Was it for him, though the clearest case of necessity, to allow the rending asunder his empire—to array for all time to come of several millions of his people against the rest? After calling on his loyal subjects in the colonies to rise, after requiring and employing their aid, was it for him, on any light grounds, to relinquish his cause and theirs, and yield them over, unforgiven, to the vengeance of their countrymen? Was it for him to overlook the consequences, not even yet, perhaps in their full extent unfolded, of such a precedent of victory to popular and colonial insurrection? May not the King, on the contrary, have deemed that on such a question, touching as it did both his honour and his rights, he was bound to be firm—firmer than even the firmest of his Ministers? Not, of course, that he could be justified for persevering; but in truth, he did not so persevere after every reasonable hope had failed. Not, of course, that he could be excused from continuing to demand, or to expect, unconditional submission; but, as his own letters to Lord North assure us, such an idea was never harboured in his mind. To do his duty conscientiously, as he should answer it to God hereafter, and according to the lights he had received, such was his unceasing aim and endeavour from the day when, young but superior to the frailties of youth, he first assumed the reins of government, until that dismal period, half a century later, when, bowed down by years and sorrows, and blind, doubly blind, he concluded his reign, though not, as yet, his life.
"Before the American war had commenced, and during its first period, nearly all the statesmen and writers of England argued, or rather took for granted as too plain to stand in need of argument, that separation from our colonies would most grievously impair, if not wholly ruin, the parent State. * * It is worthy of note how much our experience has run counter to the general prognostication—how little the loss was felt, or how quickly the void was supplied. An historian of high and just authority—Mr. Macaulay—has observed that England was never so rich, so great, so formidable to foreign princes, so absolutely mistress of the sea, as since the alienation of the American colonies. (Essays, Vol. II.) The true effect of that alienation upon ourselves, as time has shown, has been not positive, but by comparison it has lain not in the withdrawal of wealth and population and resources, but in raising up a rival State from the same race, and with powers and energies not inferior to our own.
"But how far, and in what degree, has the new form of government promoted the happiness of the United States themselves? * * It would be folly, or worse than folly, to deny that since their independence the prosperity of the United States has advanced with gigantic strides; that they have grown to be a first-rate power; that immense works of public utility have been achieved with marvellous speed; that the clearing of new lands and the building of new cities have been such as to outstrip the most sanguine calculations; that among them the working classes have been, in no common degree, well paid and prosperous; that a feeling for the national honour is in no country stronger; that the first elements of education have been most widely diffused; that many good and brave men have been trained and are training to the service of the Commonwealth. But have their independent institutions made them, on the whole, a happy and contented people? That, among themselves, is often proclaimed as undeniable; and certainly among themselves it may not always be safely denied. That, however, is not always the impression conveyed to him who only sojourns in their land, by the careworn faces, by the hurried steps, by the unsocial meals which he sees, or by the incessant party cries which he hears around him; by the fretful aspirations and the feverish hopes resulting from the unbounded space of competition open to them without check or barrier; and by the innumerable disappointments and heartburnings which in consequence arise. On the true condition of North America, let us mark the correspondence between two of the greatest and most highly gifted of her sons. There is now open before me a letter which, in August, 1837, and on the annexation of Texas, Dr. Channing wrote to Mr. Clay. In that letter, as published in Boston, I find the following words (and what Dr Channing said in 1837 has been illustrated in scores of instances since that time, and greatly enhanced by the events of the civil war):
"'I cannot do justice to this topic without speaking freely of our country, as freely as I should of any other; and unhappily we are so accustomed, as a people, to receive incense, to be soothed by flattery, and to account reputation a more important interest than morality, that my freedom may be construed into a kind of disloyalty. But it would be wrong to make concessions to this dangerous weakness. * * Among us a spirit of lawlessness pervades the community which, if not repressed, threatens the dissolution of our present forms of society. Even in the old States, mobs are taking the government into their hands, and a profligate newspaper finds little difficulty in stirring up multitudes to violence. * * Add to all this the invasions of the rights of speech and of the press by lawless force, the extent and toleration of which oblige us to believe that a considerable portion of our citizens have no comprehension of the first principles of liberty. It is an undeniable fact that, in consequence of these and other symptoms, the confidence of many reflecting men in our free institutions is very much impaired. Some despair. That main pillar of public liberty—mutual trust among citizens—is shaken. That we must seek security for property and life in a stronger government is a spreading conviction. Men who in public talk of the ability of our institutions, whisper their doubts, perhaps their scorn, in private.
"'Whether the people of the United States might have been as thriving and more happy had they remained British subjects, I will not presume to say. Certainly not if violent men like Lord Hillsborough, or corrupt men like Mr. Rigby, had continued to take part in the administration. With other hands at the helm the case might have been otherwise. Jefferson, at least, in his first draft of the Declaration of Independence, said of his countrymen and of the English: "We might have been a free and great people together." One thing, at all events, is plain, that had these colonies shared the fate of the other dominions of the British Crown, the main curse and shame—the plague spot of the system of slavery—would have been long since removed from them (before it was); but, as in the case of Jamaica, not without a large compensation in money to the slave owners. It is also plain that in the case supposed they would have equally shared in our pride and glory at the wondrous growth of the Anglo-Saxon race—that race undivided and entire, extending its branches as now to the furthest regions of the earth, yet all retaining their connection with the parent stem—all its members bound by the same laws, all animated by the same loyalty, and all tending to the same public-spirited aim. How great a nation should we and they be together!—how great in the arts both of peace and war! scarcely unequal now to all other nations of the world combined!" * *