The accession of Windham to the Cabinet, in July 1794, had strengthened their influence at Westminster; and incidents which occurred in France during the winter of 1794–5 evinced a decline of Jacobinical enthusiasm. The sentiment of loyalty, damped by the chilling personality of Louis XVI and the follies of his brothers, revived now that the little Louis XVII was being slowly done to death by his gaolers in the Temple. The rapacity and vulgar ostentation of the Thermidorian party, then in power, provoked general disgust; and despair of any satisfactory settlement began to range friends of order on the side of the monarchy. The late American envoy at Paris, Gouverneur Morris, informed Bland Burges at our Foreign Office, on 28th June 1795, that the state of France was so desperate as to admit of cure only by the restoration of the old dynasty; that the recent death of Louis XVII was a benefit to the cause inasmuch as his mind had been completely brutalized; and finally the envoy heartily wished success to every effort to overthrow the despicable Government at Paris.
Though the Royalist leaders in the west of France early in the year 1795 made a truce with the Republic, yet the resumption of the civil war in that quarter was known to be only a question of time. Windham, therefore, urged the despatch of an expedition to Brittany. His royalist zeal had now developed his powers to their utmost. Early in the course of the French Revolution the chivalry of his nature detached him from the Foxites. The glow and beauty of his periods marked him out as the successor of Burke in the House of Commons; yet in no respect did he attain complete success. His speeches were too refined and subtle for that audience; and, worse still, his diffidence or torpor led him often to miss opportunities of effective intervention. The sensitiveness of his nature appeared in his falling in love at first sight with a Highland girl whom Burke and he casually met during a tour. His loss of her made a painful impression on him.[406] The butt of an unkind fate, he seemed destined also to be the leader of lost causes; and the proud and penniless émigrés found in him their most devoted friend.
Despite the opposition of Dundas, and the doubts of Pitt, his views prevailed; and preparations began for an Anglo-French expedition to the coast of Brittany. During the winter there had arrived in London a Breton leader of gigantic stature and considerable mental powers, the Comte de Puisaye. He had fought devotedly for the constitutional monarchy in that great province and had the confidence of its inhabitants, whether nobles or peasants (Chouans). But French princes and the cliques of "pure" Royalists looked on him, as Marie Antoinette looked on Mirabeau, merely as a rebel who had partly seen the error of his ways. Secretly they resolved to make use of him, as he had gained the confidence of Windham and Pitt, but to throw him over at the first opportunity.
Meanwhile the Cabinet began to equip regiments of French Royalists destined to form the spearhead of the "Royal and Catholic Army." Various causes delayed the preparations, the chief being the absence in North Germany of seasoned corps of émigrés whose presence in Brittany, was essential. Puisaye therefore urged Ministers to allow him to enrol recruits from among the French prisoners of war in England—a dangerous device which, unfortunately, was adopted. Undoubtedly the initiative in this matter rested with him; and it is noteworthy that other royalist leaders had tried the plan, hitherto with no untoward results.[407] Prisoners were not forced into the new corps; but it is clear that some of them enlisted in order to get back to France. As for the finances of the enterprise, they were partly met by the manufacture of royalist assignats. Whether they were like the forged assignats manufactured, with the connivance of Government, near Hexham and Durham, is not clear. It is alleged by royalist writers that they bore a mark ensuring identification, so that, in case of a monarchist triumph, they would be duly honoured. The chief aim, however, certainly was to discredit the republican notes and to embarrass the Parisian Government. That Pitt should in any way have countenanced these underhand devices is discreditable.
Owing to the declaration of war by Holland (May 1795), the vacillations of Spain, and the determination of George III to keep troops in Hanover,[408] very few British were available for the enterprise. It is worth noting that the King disliked the émigrés and often shocked Windham by assertions at Court that they would prove false. His influence was used steadily against all attempts in their favour. There were, indeed, good grounds for suspicion even at this time. Seeing that Charette and other Breton leaders still observed the truce with the Republic, the risks of a landing were great; and this explains the reluctance of the Cabinet to allow the Comte d'Artois to proceed with the first contingent.[409] It was charged to occupy the Quiberon Peninsula as a base for further exertions, to supply arms to the Bretons, and thus prepare for a general rising, the effect of which would be clinched by the arrival of a larger force. The vanguard set sail from Spithead on 17th June 1795. It consisted of some 3,800 émigrés, under the general command of Puisaye, though by some mistake in drafting the orders, considerable power was given to Comte d'Hervilly, the senior officer of the subsidized regiments. At first all went well. The convoying fleet under Lord Bridport, after capturing three French sail-of-the-line off l'Orient, made Quiberon Bay and assisted in the capture of Fort Penthièvre, commanding the narrow isthmus (3rd July).
Disputes now began between Puisaye and Hervilly, the former desiring to push on boldly, while the latter insisted on remaining in the peninsula. Time was thus given for the republican general, Hoche, to collect his forces and make spirited attacks upon the invaders, who soon fell a prey to schism and discouragement. The doom of the expedition was decided by the treacherous surrender of the fort to Hoche's men at the close of a night attack (21st July). As day dawned the Republicans drove their foes into the peninsula. Wild scenes of panic ensued. A storm having compelled the larger British warships to keep in the offing, Puisaye went off in a boat to beg succour from Admiral Warren. The defence speedily collapsed. De Sombreuil, who was left in command near the tip of the tongue of land, unaccountably surrendered, though a British corvette, the "Lark," and gunboats were effectively covering his flank. At the instigation of Tallien, the French Convention disavowed the promise of its officers at Quiberon to spare the lives of those who laid down their arms; and 712 Royalists were shot down in cold blood at Auray and neighbouring places.
The evidence proves that the Pitt Ministry had done its best for this expedition, which went to pieces owing to the quarrels of its leaders and the refusal of Charette to stir a finger on behalf of Puisaye, whom he detested. For the final massacre Tallien and the French Convention are wholly responsible. Yet it suited the tactics of the English Opposition to accuse Pitt of planning the death of the French Royalists. Fox, in one of his wildest outbreaks, charged Ministers with deliberately sending noble gentlemen to a massacre. Sheridan, too, declared that, though British blood had not flowed, yet "British honour had bled at every pore." These reckless mis-statements have been refuted by the testimony of La Jaille, Vauban, and Puisaye, royalist officers who escaped.
Before these horrible events were known in England, Ministers prepared to succour the vanguard at Quiberon. News that Spain had made peace with France in a highly suspicious manner weakened this second effort, it being necessary to safeguard the British West Indies from a probable attack by the Spaniards. As no more than four newly raised British regiments could be spared for the Biscay coast, the Earl of Moira threw up the command, which General Doyle then accepted. It seems probable that by 3rd August Pitt doubted the expediency of sending a second expedition to Brittany or la Vendée. Nevertheless, the Comte d'Artois, who about that time arrived at Spithead from North Germany with a force of émigrés, desired to make the venture, relying on Charette, and other royalist chiefs who had once more aroused the men of the West. The Count also cherished the hope that the numerous bands of malcontents in Paris would overthrow that tottering Government.
Events turned out otherwise. The first plan, that of occupying Noirmoutier, an island close to the Vendéan coast, proving impracticable, Doyle sailed to a smaller island, Yeu, farther out at sea. There the 5,500 troops, miserably cramped and underfed, waited until the Comte d'Artois should make good his boast of throwing himself into a boat, if need be, in order to join his faithful Charette. It was soon apparent that he preferred to stay in Yeu with his mistress, Mme. Polastron. In vain did the Bretons under Puisaye and Vauban, and the Vendéans under Charette, beg him to join them. Meanwhile, amid the early autumn rains the troops deteriorated, and the royalist rising at Paris proved a miserable fiasco, some 30,000 National Guards being scattered by a small force well handled by Bonaparte and Barras (5th October). Finally, a deputation of Bretons proceeded to Yeu, and begged Artois to place himself at the head of the numerous bands of devoted gentlemen and peasants who still awaited his appearance. All was in vain. Je ne veux pas aller Chouanner (play the Chouan) was his reply (12th November). On the morrow he informed Vauban that he had received orders from England to return at once. This assertion was at the time generally believed to be false; the letters of Grenville to the Prince prove it to be grossly exaggerated. To the despair and disgust of his soldiers he departed, and finally sought refuge from his creditors in Holyrood Castle. The British and French royalist regiments were withdrawn with much difficulty during the storms of December 1795. Nearly all the horses had to be destroyed.
Undoubtedly Pitt and Grenville had become disgusted with the torpor of Artois and the follies of the French Royalists. In particular the absurd failure at Paris seems to have prompted the resolve of the Cabinet to withdraw the British troops from Yeu. Pitt's letters of the latter half of October also evince a desire to pave the way for some understanding with the French Directory. As that Government was firmly installed in power, an opportunity presented itself, for the first time since the opening of the war, of arranging a lasting peace. These hopes were to be blighted; but it is certain that Pitt cherished them; and, doubtless, among the motives operating in favour of peace the foremost was a feeling of disgust at the poltroonery of the French Princes and the incurable factiousness of their followers, in whom the faculties which command success were lost amidst vices and perversities sufficient to ruin the best of causes. Pitt continued to support the Chouans by money and arms; but, despite the frequent protests of Windham, not a British soldier was landed on that coast.[410]