Castlereagh also, writing to Pitt on 19th December, assured him that he had heard similar news through various channels, and therefore cherished high hopes that something good had happened.[763] Mulgrave, who was then also at Bath along with Bathurst, Hawkesbury, and Canning, shared these hopes. Despite the first reports of Austerlitz, which were promptly contradicted, the Ministerial circle at Bath had no want of diversion. On 12th December Mulgrave sent to Pitt a short poem on Trafalgar for his correction, and Pitt touched up a few lines. On 21st December Mulgrave wrote to him: "I send you Woronzow [Vorontzoff] and Ward, faute de mieux. I was rejoiced to find you were gone out in your carriage when I called at your home after church. As Bathurst, Canning, and the gout have left you, I hope you will be able to return to the mess to-morrow." This does not imply that Pitt was living the life of an invalid, or was kept to so strict a diet as during his sojourn at Bath three years before.
Equally hopeful was the estimate of Canning. He spent a week with Pitt at Bath, and, after leaving him shortly before Christmas, informed a friend that Pitt was "recovering from a fit of the gout, which has done him abundance of good, and puts off the time of his driving after old Frere—I trust to an incalculable distance.... There wants only an official confirmation of all the good news (that has reached us through every possible channel except those of Office) to complete it."[764]
Canning, we may note here, had discussed with Pitt his projected poem—"Ulm and Trafalgar" (which bore the motto "Look here, upon this picture, and on that"). It began:
While Austria's yielded armies, vainly brave,
Moved, in sad pomp, by Danube's blood-stained wave
and ended with a noble acclaim to Nelson:
Thou, bravest, gentlest Spirit, fare thee well.
On the first line Canning plumed himself until he remembered the warning of an old tutor at Magdalen, that when anything in your verses pleased you very much, it was best to strike it out. Canning referred the phrase "yielded armies" to Pitt, who probably found relief from his cares in touching up the poem.[765] That Christmastide, then, was a time of anxiety, but not of settled gloom. There is no sign that Pitt or his colleagues felt the position to be desperate until the end of the year. On Christmas Day Castlereagh wrote from Downing Street to Pitt: "I am sorry to add to your materials for criticism and speculation. I send you Cooke's 'Courant,' There is intelligence in the City from Amsterdam of the 21st. Nothing official known here of an armistice. You have received from Lord B[arham?] every information from that quarter."[766]
Indeed, the hopefulness of Ministers now involved them in greater difficulties. Building on Prussia's promises, they decided early in December to order the despatch of strong reinforcements to the British corps then on the point of entering Hanover.[767] In all, as many as 65,000 British and King's Germans were to be sent—the largest force that had ever set sail from these shores, a fact which testifies to the ardour of Pitt's desires for the liberation of Hanover and Holland. Even the immediate results of this decision were disastrous. Sixty-seven transports, forthwith setting sail, encountered a terrible storm, which flung three of them on the enemy's coast, while one sank with all hands on the Goodwins. Such was the purport of the news sent by Castlereagh to Pitt at Bath on 19th December. He added that, in spite of these losses, "the little Cabinet of five" (with Lord Barham in attendance) decided to order all the remaining transports to sail, so that Prussia might be encouraged to "throw her strength to the southward. We have acted for the best, and I hope you and your companions will approve."[768] Pitt, of course, did approve, not knowing that while England was encountering heavy risks in order to effect the liberation of North Germany, her Allies had come to terms with Napoleon.
At last, on 29th December, definite news concerning the armistice of 4th December reached London. It must have chilled the hearts of the boldest. For, trusting in the continued exertions of the Allies, England had sent to North Germany as many as 257 transports, and of these 8 were now known to be lost, involving the death of 664 men, and the capture of about 1,000 on the enemies' coasts. All this effort and loss of life now appeared to be useless, in view of the vacillating conduct of Prussia. Only with her good will could the British troops, with the Russian and Swedish contingents, hope to conquer Holland. If she declared against us, the whole force would be in jeopardy. Such were the tidings which Castlereagh bore with him to Pitt at the end of the year.[769] Not a line survives respecting that mournful interview; but we can picture the deathly look coming over Pitt's emaciated features as he now for the first time faced the prospect of the dissolution of the mighty league which he had toiled to construct. Probably it was this shock to the system which brought on a second attack of the gout, accompanied with great weakness and distaste for food.[770]
Nevertheless he clung to the hope that Prussia would stand firm. On 3rd January 1806 further news reached him from the Austrian and Prussian Governments. The Austrian despatches represented Austerlitz as a repulse, but not a disaster, and the armistice as a device for enabling Prussia to prepare her blow at Napoleon's flank or rear. On 5th January Mulgrave found in the despatches from Berlin grounds for believing that that Court might under certain conditions assist the two Emperors in Moravia and the British force in Hanover. On the morrow he wrote to Pitt in emphatic terms, urging him to offer to Prussia the Dutch Republic. That little State (he urged) could not again be independent, save in circumstances now scarcely imaginable, much less realizable. Further, the Stadholder having very tamely accepted the domain of Fulda as an indemnity, we need feel no qualms for the House of Nassau; and, as Prussia was influenced solely by territorial greed, and Hanover was out of the question, she might well acquire the Dutch Netherlands, which would link her to British interests.[771] Again we have to admit ignorance of Pitt's opinion on this degrading proposal. Certainly it never took definite shape.[772] Though willing to assign to Prussia the Belgic Netherlands, he laid great stress on the independence of the Dutch Netherlands, which indeed was the corner-stone of his foreign policy. Moreover, to barter away an unoffending little State was to repeat the international crimes of the partitions of Poland and Venetia. We may be sure that that proud and just spirit would rather have perished than stoop to such ignominy.