William Pitt and the Great War

by J. Holland Rose

At Frankfurt, and again at Berlin, Malmesbury found signs that Frederick William was ashamed at the ignominious issue of the campaign, and professed a desire to take up the duties which the Duke of Brunswick had so haltingly fulfilled. The King seemed rather pleased than otherwise at the Austrian reverses in the north of Alsace, but by no means indisposed to renew the attack upon France, always provided that England paid him a sufficient subsidy. He assured the envoy that his chef-d'œuvre, the Triple Alliance of 1788, was still a reality, but he declared, on the faith of an honest man, that the state of Prussia's finances would not enable him to face a third campaign. In point of fact, out of the reserve fund of 80,000,000 crowns which Frederick the Great had handed on, only 20,000,000 or perhaps only 14,000,000 remained in the early days of 1794.[340]

Other difficulties beset the Prussian monarch. Want of work had driven the weavers of Silesia to a state of frenzy and tumult almost resembling a Jacquerie; and there and elsewhere serfs and peasants talked openly of casting off the restraints and burdens of Feudalism. In such a case the veriest autocrat must pause before he commits his country to the risks of a loan (that of 1792 had exhausted Prussia's credit), or to a campaign where the losses were certain and the gains doubtful. On this last topic various schemes had been bandied to and fro between Berlin and Vienna. The debt of honour certainly bade Frederick William help to secure to his rival a counterpart to Prussia's acquisitions in Poland; but, apart from this consideration and the need of stamping out the French pest in the Rhineland, the politicians of Berlin found few reasons for prolonging the war. What wonder, then, that they set on foot intrigues with the regicides of Paris? Marshal Möllendorf, the commander whom Frederick William substituted for the weary and disgusted Duke of Brunswick, proved to be a partisan of peace.[341]

Royalist at heart, but beset by advisers and mistresses who fanned his jealousy of Austria and love of ease, Frederick William wavered under the whims of the hour or the counsels of the last comer. Malmesbury thus summed up the question now at issue in his letter to Pitt of 9th January 1794: "Can we do without the King of Prussia or can we not? If we can, he is not worth the giving of a guinea for. If we cannot, I am afraid we cannot give too many." Malmesbury saw no means of keeping Frederick William steady up to the end of the war. Pitt and Grenville, however, devised the following expedient. They offered the sum of £2,000,000 for bringing 100,000 Prussians into the field. Of this sum Great Britain would furnish two fifths (or £800,000), and Austria and Holland each one fifth, the last fifth being advanced by Prussia herself until she reimbursed herself from France at the general peace. The device was suggestive of that of the rustic who tempts his beast of burden onwards by dangling a choice vegetable before his nose.

Frederick William alone might have been attracted by the offer; but his advisers haggled long and obstinately over details. Chief among the objectors was a Councillor of State, Haugwitz, an oily, plausible creature, whose Gallophil leanings were destined finally to place his country under the heel of Napoleon and deal a death-blow to Pitt. For the present, he treated Malmesbury with a moderation and courtesy that deftly veiled a determined opposition. The British envoy was fully his match. Finding that Haugwitz ascribed all difficulties and delays to the Austrian embassy, he advised him to propose the transfer of the negotiations to The Hague, where these annoyances would cease. Vain and always prone to take the easiest course, Haugwitz swallowed the bait and succeeded in carrying a point which was all in Malmesbury's favour, especially as it saved time in communicating with Downing Street. After annoying delays they set out on 23rd March; and with the aid of twenty-two horses at each post traversed the 326 (English) miles to The Hague in 120 hours during the days, 23rd–30th March, when the campaign ought to have opened.

The prospects at Vienna were equally gloomy. Morton Eden's reports to Grenville form an unrelieved jeremiad. Even amidst the alarms caused by the disasters at Toulon and in the Palatinate, jealousy of Prussia was the dominant feeling. The utmost efforts of our ambassador failed to convince Francis II and Thugut of the need of humouring Prussia by meeting her demand for an additional subsidy and by guaranteeing bread and forage for the 20,000 men who formed her contingent in the Austrian service. Into these wearisome quarrels we need not enter, further than to note that they were envenomed by the acerbity of the Prussian ambassador at Vienna. The Marquis Lucchesini, born at Lucca in 1752, early entered the service of Frederick the Great, to whom he acted as reader. He advanced rapidly under his successor. His commanding demeanour and vivacity of speech, added to great powers of work, and acuteness in detecting the foibles of others, made him a formidable opponent. Further, his marriage with the sister of Bischoffswerder, until lately the King's favourite adviser, added to his influence, which, as was natural with a foreigner, inclined towards the attractive and gainful course. Long afterwards the saviour of Prussia, Baron vom Stein, classed him among the narrow, selfish, insincere men who had been the ruin of nations.[342] Certainly he helped to ruin Poland; and now his conduct at Vienna clogged the efforts of Morton Eden and Malmesbury to strengthen the Coalition against France. Eden complained that he behaved as an intriguing subaltern rather than as an ambassador; and rumour credibly ascribed his tortuous and exasperating conduct to French gold.

In the midst of his irritation against Prussia and her envoy, Thugut heard with astonishment the British proposals, presented at Berlin early in February, to bring 100,000 Prussians into the field. Urgently he remonstrated with Eden, pointing out that Prussia had played them false in two campaigns, and would do so again, witness her late contention that France must not be weakened. On no account, then, must Frederick William head a compact mass of 100,000 men in the Palatinate. He would be the arbiter of the situation. He would be between the Austrian army in Brabant and the Hapsburg States. Nay, he might march into Swabia, reach the Danube, take boats at Ulm, and, sailing down that stream, have Vienna at his mercy![343] So pressing were these anxieties that, at the close of February, Thugut sent a special request to Catharine II to guarantee the security of Austria's possessions in case Frederick William withdrew from the Coalition.

Despite the utmost efforts of the British Ministry and its envoys, no plan of vigorous co-operation could be arranged between the two German rivals; the sole link connecting them was the clause of the treaty of 1792, whereby Austria, as having been attacked by France, claimed the help of 20,000 Prussians. Frederick William decided that this force must remain at Mainz, in order to guard the Empire from a French raid. He promised 80,000 more troops to Great Britain and Holland, provided that they were paid for. On one point alone the four Allies came near to agreement, namely, that the main Prussian army should operate in Flanders, so as effectively to defend the Dutch territory, secure conquests in the North of France, and, above all, preclude the quarrels which must ensue if it acted near the Austrians.[344] Thugut of course assented, his great aim being to remove the Prussians as far as possible from Swabia. Disputes on these subjects went on up to the end of March 1794, the time when an advance into French Flanders promised great results.

The reader will naturally ask—Can this be called a Coalition? A Coalition implies some power of coalescing. But among the four Powers there was far more of disunion than union. In fact, England was the sole link between these wrangling confederates, and that, too, solely by means of what Carlyle called the cash nexus. Grenville, using a more homely metaphor, averred that the German princes turned towards England as an inexhaustible milch-cow. The animal in this case could dictate her terms; and thus the relations of the three Powers resembled those of a rich but somewhat exigent employer to grumbling and distrustful employees. Holland also, in return for her sacrifices in men and money, demanded from Austria a better frontier on the side of Dutch Flanders and Maestricht, to which the Viennese Court opposed a quiet but firm resistance.

It speaks volumes for the confidence inspired by Pitt and Grenville, and for the tactful zeal of Malmesbury and Eden, that they induced the German rivals to make one more effort. The Duke of York also played an important part in the formation of the plan of campaign; for he it was who persuaded Colonel Mack to accompany him to London, and there discuss with Ministers the alternative schemes. The mention of Mack will excite surprise among those who know of him only by the futile Neapolitan campaign of 1799, and the frightful disaster of Ulm. In regard to strategy and the theory of war he displayed much ability; and his administrative talents and energy as Quarter-Master-General in 1793 should have screened him from the criticism that he discoursed brilliantly on war in salons, and in the council rhetorically developed specious and elegant plans.[345]