William Pitt and the Great War

by J. Holland Rose

The confidence which he inspired was proved by the success of a remarkable experiment, the Patriotic Contribution. In the midst of the acrid debates on the Finance Bill, the Speaker, Addington, tactfully suggested the insertion of a clause enabling the Bank of England to receive voluntary gifts, amounting to one-fifth of the income. Pitt gratefully adopted the proposal, and early in the year 1798 patriots began to send in large sums. Pitt, Addington, Dundas, the Lord Chancellor, and Lords Kenyon and Romney at once gave £2,000 each; the King graciously allotted from the Privy Purse £20,000 a year during the war. The generous impulse speedily prevailed, and the City once more showed its patriotism by subscribing £10,000; the Bank gave £200,000. A platform was erected near the Royal Exchange for the receipt of contributions. Among others, a wealthy calico printer, Robert Peel, father of the statesman, felt the call of duty to give £10,000. He went back to Bury (Lancashire) in some anxiety to inform his partner, Yates, of this unbusinesslike conduct, whereupon the latter remarked, "You might as well have made it £20,000 while you were about it." If all Britons had acted in this spirit, the new taxes would have met the needs of the war. But, as will subsequently appear, they failed to balance the ever growing expenditure, and Pitt in 1799–1800 had to raise loans on the security of the Income Tax to make up its deficiencies.

A pleasing proof of the restoration of friendship between Auckland and Pitt appears in a letter in which the former asked advice as to the amount which he should give to this fund. He was now Postmaster-General, and stated that his total gross income was £3,600, out of which the new taxes took £320. Should he give £1,000? And what should he give for his brother, Morton Eden, ambassador at Vienna? Pitt answered that £700 should be the utmost for him; the sum of £500 for Morton would also be generous.[470] On the whole, £2,300,000 was subscribed—a sum which contrasts remarkably with the driblets that came in as a response to Necker's appeal in the autumn of 1789 for a patriotic contribution of one fourth of the incomes of Frenchmen.

Even so, Pitt had to impose new taxes in his Budget of 1798, and to raise a loan of £3,000,000. Further, on 2nd April, he proposed a commutation of the Land Tax. Of late it had been voted annually at the rate of 4s. in the pound, and produced about £2,000,000. Pitt now proposed to make it a perpetual charge upon parishes, but to enable owners to redeem their land from the tax at the existing valuation. The sums accruing from these sales were to go to the reduction of the National Debt. His aim, that of enhancing credit, was as praiseworthy as his procedure was defective. For there had been no valuation of the land for many years, and the assessments varied in the most surprising manner even in neighbouring districts. Doubtless it was impossible during the Great War to carry out the expensive and lengthy process of a national valuation; but, as manufactures and mining were creating a new Industrial England, the time was most unsuited to the imposition of a fixed quota of Land Tax.

Nevertheless, Pitt took as basis the assessment of 1797, and made it a perpetual charge upon each parish. The results have in many cases been most incongruous. Agricultural land, which was generally rated high, continued to pay at that level long after depreciation set in. On the other hand, large tracts in the manufacturing districts, rapidly increasing in value, paid far less than their due share. In some cases where a barren moor has become a hive of industry, the parish now raises its quota by a rate of .001 in the pound. In a few cases, where the fall in value has been severe, the rate is very heavy, in spite of remedial legislation. Pitt could not have foreseen differences such as these; but, in view of the rapid growth of manufactures in the Midlands and North, he should have ensured either a re-valuation of the parochial quotas or a complete and methodical redemption from the Land Tax. He took neither course, and that, too, in spite of the warnings of Lord Sheffield and Sinclair as to the injustice and impolicy of his proposals. They passed both Houses by large majorities, perhaps because he offered to landlords the option of redeeming their land at twenty years' purchase. Less than one fourth of the tax was redeemed before the year 1800, a fact which seems to show that the landed interest was too hard pressed to profit by the opportunity. As Sir Francis Burdett said, country gentlemen had to bear a heavy burden of taxation, besides poor-rates, tithes, and the expense of the mounted yeomanry. Thurlow compared the country magnates to sheep who let themselves be shorn and re-shorn, whereas merchants and traders were like hogs, grunting and bolting as soon as one bristle was touched. In defence of Pitt's action, it may be said that he hoped to secure a considerable gain by the investment of the purchase money in Consols and to enhance their value; but it appears that not more than £80,000 a year was thus realized.[471]

The prevalence of discontent early in 1798 and the threatened coalition of Irish and British malcontents will be noticed in the [following chapter]. Pitt was so impressed by the danger as to press for the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act and the renewal of the Aliens Act (April 1798). As happened in 1794, the revival of coercion produced vehement protests. Already the Duke of Norfolk had flung defiance at Ministers. Presiding at a great banquet held at the Crown and Anchor, on the occasion of Fox's birthday, 24th January, he not only compared the great orator to Washington, but hinted that the 2,000 men present might do as much as Washington's handful had done in America. Finally he proposed the distinctly Jacobinical toast, "Our Sovereign, the Majesty of the People." For this he was dismissed from the command of a militia regiment and from the Lord Lieutenancy of the West Riding of Yorkshire.

Fox chose to repeat the toast early in May 1798, when large parts of Ireland were on the brink of revolt. In so dire a crisis it behoved a leading man to weigh his words. But the wilful strain in his nature set all prudence at defiance. Thereupon several of Pitt's friends recommended a public prosecution for sedition, or at least a reprimand at the bar of the House of Commons. To the former course Pitt objected as giving Fox too much consequence, besides running the risk of an acquittal; but he saw some advantage in the latter course; for (as he wrote to Dundas) Fox, when irritated by the reprimand, would probably offer a new insult and could then be sent to the Tower for the rest of the Session. The suggestion is perhaps the pettiest in the whole of Pitt's correspondence; but probably it was due to the extremely grave situation in Ireland and the fear of a French invasion. Further, Fox had ceased to attend the House of Commons; and a member who shirks his duty is doubly guilty when he proposes a seditious toast. Pitt, however, did not push matters to extremes, and the course actually adopted was the removal of the name of Fox from the Privy Council by the hand of George III on 9th May.

Sixteen days later, Pitt and Tierney had a passage of arms in the House. That pugnacious Irishman had thrust himself to the fore during the secession of Fox and other prominent Whigs from the House, and had to bear many reproaches for his officiousness. He also nagged at Pitt at every opportunity, until, on his opposing a motion of urgency for a Bill for better manning the Navy, Pitt's patience gave way. He accused the self-constituted leader of seeking to obstruct the defence of the country. The charge was in the main correct; for Tierney's opposition to a pressing measure of national defence was highly unpatriotic. Nevertheless, Tierney had right on his side when he called Pitt to order and appealed to the Speaker for protection. Rarely has that personage been placed in a more difficult position. Pitt was right in his facts; but etiquette required that he should withdraw or at least attenuate his charge. Addington politely hinted that the words were unparliamentary, but suggested that the Minister should give an explanation. Pitt stiffly refused either to withdraw his words, or to explain their meaning. There the incident closed. On the next day, Saturday, 26th May, Tierney sent Pitt a challenge, which was at once accepted.

We find it difficult now to take seriously a duel between a slim man of near forty who had rarely fired a shot in sport, never in anger, and a stoutly built irascible Irishman, for whom a good shot meant lynching or lasting opprobrium. Visions of Bob Acres and Sir Lucius O'Trigger flit before us. We picture Tierney quoting "fighting Bob Acres" as to the advantage of a sideways posture; and we wonder whether the seconds, if only in regard for their own safety, did not omit to insert bullets. The ludicrous side of the affair soon dawned on contemporaries, witness the suggestion that in all fairness Pitt's figure ought to be chalked out on Tierney's, and that no shot taking effect outside ought to count. But, on the whole, people took the incident seriously. Certainly the principals did. Pitt made his will beforehand, and requested Addington as a friend to come and see him, thereby preventing his interposition as Speaker. He asked Steele to be his second; but, he being away from town, Dudley Ryder took his place. Leaving Downing Street about noon on Whitsunday, 27th May, the pair walked along Birdcage Walk, mounted the steps leading into Queen Street, and entered a chaise engaged for their excursion. After passing the villages of Chelsea and Putney, and, topping the rise beyond, they proceeded along the old Portsmouth Road, which crosses the northern part of Putney Heath. At the top of the steep hill leading down into Kingston Vale they alighted, made their way past the gibbet where swung the corpse of a well-known highwayman, Jerry Abershaw, long the terror of travellers on that road. Did Pitt know that libellers likened him to the highwayman; for "Jerry took purses with his pistols, and Pitt with his Parliaments"? Lower down Pitt and Ryder found Tierney and his second, General Walpole, in a charming dell radiant with golden gorse and silver birches.[472]

But they were not alone. That fine Whitsuntide had brought many chaises along the road; and not a few curious persons skirted the rising ground towards Putney and Wimbledon. To these inquisitive groups rode up a tall bland-looking man, now more than usually sedate. It was Addington. Probably he was the most anxious man alive. He knew that his weakness as Speaker had freed Pitt from the necessity of apologizing to Tierney as the occasion demanded. Now, too, as Speaker, he ought to intervene. As a friend, pledged by Pitt to secrecy, he could do nothing but look on. Below, in the dell, the seconds saw to the pistols and measured the distance—twelve paces. Pitt and Tierney coolly took aim, and, at the signal, fired. Addington's heart must have leaped with joy to see Pitt's figure still erect. Again the seconds produced pistols, and again the pair fired: but this time Pitt discharged his weapon into the air. Was it a sign of his contrition for his insult to Tierney, or of his chivalrous sense of Tierney's disadvantage in the matter of target-space? Certain it is that Walpole leaped over the furze bushes for joy on seeing the duellists still erect.