Franklin.
The manifest favor of France had forever enrolled Lord Chatham among the opponents of the recognition of American independence. He carried to the House a proposal to cease hostilities and enter upon a negotiation with the revolted colonies, under one sole condition, that of submission to the mother-country. In the violent discussion raised on this subject, Lord Suffolk desired to defend the cruel practices of the Indian savages who were tolerated in the service of Great Britain. Lord Chatham rose in his place, forgetting that he had lately accepted the same auxiliaries during the war against the French in Canada. "My lords," he exclaimed, "have we heard aright? Men, Christians, profane the royal majesty at the very side of the throne. God and nature have placed these arms in our hands, you are told. I do not know what ideas may be conceived of God and of nature, but I know that these abominable principles are equally contrary to religion and to humanity. What! shall the sanction of God and of nature be attributed to the cruelties of the Indian scalping-knife, to cannibal savages who torture, massacre, devour—yes, my lords, who devour the mutilated victims of their barbarous combats? And on whom have you let loose these infidel savages? On your brothers in faith, in order to devastate their country, in order to desolate their dwellings, in order to extirpate their race and their name!"
The proposals of Lord Chatham were rejected, but the situation had already changed. Shortly after the arrival of M. de la Fayette in America, the battle of Brandywine, in which he had taken part as major-general, had been disastrous to the Americans; the young volunteer had been wounded. At Germantown fate had been equally against the colonists, and they had been forced to evacuate Philadelphia, the aim of General Howe's operations. They had fallen back on Valley Forge. General Washington had cleverly established his camp there for the winter. Nevertheless, successes at other points counterbalanced and even outweighed the reverses. On the frontiers of Canada the English general Burgoyne, obstinate and presumptuous, had been defeated by General Gates. Being deceived in his hope of being succored by Howe or by Clinton, who was commanding at New York, he was left to be surrounded by the English troops. Deprived of provisions and supplies, without resources and without means of communication, Burgoyne, at the end of his strength, was, after an heroic resistance, forced to lay down arms and capitulate at Saratoga, on the 17th of October, 1777. He obtained honorable conditions, but the soldiers, while free to return to Europe, were bound not to serve any more against America. Gates was an Englishman; he did not wish to witness the humiliation of his countrymen, and he did not assist at the defile of General Burgoyne's troops. For the first time on American territory, European arms were given up. The echo was immense in Europe, and seconded Franklin's efforts at Paris. On the 6th of February, 1778, France officially recognized the independence of the United States; a treaty of alliance was concluded with the new power, which thus took rank among nations. Two months later, on the 13th of April, a French squadron, under the command of Count d'Estaing, set sail towards America, and soon hostilities were being carried on in the British Channel between the French and English ships, without declaration of war, owing to the natural pressure of circumstances and the state of feeling in the two countries.
At the very moment when France was according to the American revolt that support which she had secretly afforded it for more than two years, Lord North, forcing the hand of King George III., proposed two bills to Parliament, by which England renounced the right to levy taxes in the American colonies and recognized the legal existence of Congress. Three commissioners were to be sent to the United States to treat concerning the conditions of peace. "The humiliation and sorrow were great and were legible on all countenances," said an ocular witness; "no one gave any sign of approbation, and silence succeeded the minister's speech." The propositions were, however, voted without serious opposition. Necessity pressed upon all spirits with sad bitterness.
Public sentiment in England, as well as in Parliament, blamed the weakness of the government. Lord North felt it, and on the 14th of March, 1778, on the receipt of the French letter ironically assuring King George III. of the continuation of Louis XVI.'s peaceful intentions, the minister had advised the king to recall his ambassador from Paris and to form a new cabinet at home. It was with profound repugnance that the monarch consented to make advances to Lord Chatham; the demands of the great orator were so haughty that the negotiations remained suspended. The king made a last appeal to Lord North. "Will you abandon me in the moment of danger, like the Duke of Grafton?" he asked. The Duke of Richmond had just made a proposition for the recall of the troops fighting on land and sea in America (7th April, 1778). He relied on the support of Lord Chatham, but anti-French passion in this unbalanced and proud soul surmounted all abstract considerations of right and justice. He had formerly said, "You will never conquer America. Your efforts will continue vain and powerless. If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, so long as foreign forces marched against my country, I would never lay down my arms—never! never!" The intervention of France in the struggle had modified the views of the great minister who had so long followed her with his hatred. He desired her, above all things, to be humiliated and conquered. The recognition of American independence became impossible, encouraged as it was by the House of Bourbon. The Earl had himself carried to Westminster, supported on one side by his son William, on the other by his son-in-law, Lord Mahon. He was nothing more than the shadow of himself—pale, emaciated, and with difficulty drawn from his bed of suffering. He rose slowly, supported by his crutch and leaning heavily on his son's shoulder. His voice was hollow and failing, his words broken. The transient gleams of his genius alone animated the supreme effort. "I thank God," said he, "that I have been enabled to come here to-day to accomplish a duty and to say what has heavily weighed upon my heart. I have already one foot in the grave: I am going there soon. I have left my bed to sustain in this House the cause of my country, perhaps for the last time. I congratulate myself, my lords, that the grave has not yet closed over me, and that I yet live to raise my voice against the dismemberment of this ancient and noble monarchy. My lords, his Majesty has succeeded to an empire as vast in its extent as it is illustrious in its reputation. Shall we tarnish its lustre by the shameful abandonment of its rights and of its finest possessions? Shall the great kingdom which has survived in its entirety the descents by the Danes, the incursions of the Scots, the conquest of the Normans, which has stood firm before the threatened invasion of the Spanish army, fall to-day before the House of Bourbon? Truly, my lords, we are greater than we were. If it be absolutely necessary to choose between peace and war, if peace cannot be preserved with honor, why not declare war without hesitation? My lords, everything is better than despair; let us at least make an effort. If we are to yield, let us yield like men."
