The appeal to the God of Battles was not allowed without protest, and in January, 1775, Chatham, moving for the recall of the troops in Boston, made an impassioned speech. "For solidity of reasoning, and wisdom of conclusion under such a complication of difficult circumstances, no nation or body of men can stand in preference to the General Congress at Philadelphia. All attempts to impose servitude upon such men, to establish despotism over such a mighty continental nation must be vain, must be fatal. We shall be forced ultimately to retract. Let us retract while we can, not when we must." In vain London and other cities petitioned against extreme measures, in vain Lord Effingham and Chatham's eldest son resigned their commissions in the Army lest they should have to serve against the Americans, in vain Grafton resigned the Privy Seal. Lord Dartmouth took the Duke's place; Lord George Germaine, a violent opponent of the colonies, became Secretary of State for America; and Howe took over from Gage the command of the British troops in the colonies; while those who opposed the war were looked upon as traitors by the Court. "The war was considered as the war of the King personally. Those who supported it were called the King's friends; while those who wished the country to pause, and reconsider the propriety of persevering in the contest, were branded as disloyal."[166]
The first blood was shed at Lexington on the morning of April 19, 1775, when General Gage's troops engaged with a body of the colonial militia. At that time no doubt was felt at home that the rebels would be promptly defeated, and still society at large did not take the American question very seriously. Even Selwyn referred to it as "that little dispute." "You pant after news from America, there are none pour le moment," he wrote to Lord Carlisle on October 11, 1775. "But you may depend upon it, if that little dispute interests you, I will let you know, quand le monde sera rassemble, tout ce que j'apprens, et de bon lieu. Charles [James Fox] assures us that nothing is so easy as to put an end to all this, but then there must be a change of ministry, quelconque, no matter what, as a preliminary assurance to the insurgents."[167] Two months later Selwyn was still optimistic. "Our last news from America are certainly not good, but it does not alter my expectations of what will be the issue of the next campaign." The delay in inflicting a serious defeat upon the colonists filled the latter with hope of ultimate success. "Britain," said Franklin jubilantly, "at expense of three millions, had killed a hundred and fifty Yankees this campaign, which is £20,000 a head; and at Bunker's Hill she gained a mile of ground, part of which she lost again by our taking post on Ploughed Hill. During the same time sixty thousand children have been born in America: from these data may easily be calculated the time and expense necessary to kill us all and conquer our territory."
Lexington and Bunker's Hill only served to irritate the King, who could not see to what these encounters would lead, and he was the more shocked, being in hourly expectation of the surrender of the rebels, to receive despatches from Sir William Howe, containing an account of the action on Long Island. "Since the future consequences of the American rebellion, if we may judge from this fatal event," he said to Lord George Germaine, after glancing at the lists of killed and wounded at Long Island, "are likely to be still more bloody and tragical, may my deluded subjects on the other side of the Atlantic behold their impending destruction with half the horror that I feel on the occasion; then I think I shall soon hear of their throwing off the yoke of republicanism and, like loyal subjects, returning to that duty they owe to an indulgent sovereign." Doubtless he still cherished the hope that colonists would come to heel, but even his optimism must have been shattered by the publication of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1775.
The war proceeded with varying fortunes, and the capture of New York by Howe encouraged the mother-country. Burgoyne's success at Philadelphia in June, 1777, delighted the King, who is said to have rushed into the Queen's room as soon as he heard of it, crying, "I have beat them! beat all the Americans!" But his pleasure was soon dashed by the news that on October 16, Burgoyne and his army capitulated at Saratoga, which, however, after the first shock, he pronounced "very serious, but not without remedy." After these distressing tidings became known in England, a friend of Lord North said to him, "My Lord, you must now see that the whole population of America is hostile to your designs." Lord North replied, "I see that as clearly as you do; and the King shall either consent to allow me to assure the House of Commons that some means shall be found to put an end to the war, or I will not continue to be his minister."[168] The King, however, was not to be moved from his purpose, and his appeal to North not to desert him in the hour of his trouble could not be disregarded by his faithful minister.
The situation was, indeed, distressing. "What a wretched piece of work do we seem to be making of it in America!" Gibbon wrote on April 13, 1777. "The greatest force which any European power ever ventured to transport into that continent is not strong enough ever to attack the enemy: the naval strength of Great Britain is not sufficient to prevent the Americans (they have almost lost the appellation of rebels) from receiving every assistance that they wanted; and in the meantime you are obliged to call out the militia to defend your own coast against their privateers. You possibly may expect from me some account of the designs and policy of the French Court. I shall only say that I am not under any immediate apprehension of a war with France. It is much more pleasant as well as profitable to view in safety the raging of the tempest, occasionally to pick up some pieces of wreck, and to improve their trade, their agriculture and their finances while the two countries are 'lento collisa duella.' Far from taking any step to put an end to this astonishing dispute, I should not be surprised if next summer they were to lend their cordial assistance to England as the weaker party."[169]
It is beyond the scope of this work to trace the progress of the war, and it is for the military historian to criticise its conduct; but it was patent that the purchase of Hessian troops was a great diplomatic blunder. To invoke the aid of hired mercenaries was to make the breach irrevocable, as well as to set against the country employing them the sympathy of other nations. Frederick the Great said he "should make all the Hessian troops, marching through his dominions to America, pay the usual cattle tax, because though human beings they had been sold as beasts." The case has been well put by Lord Mahon. "If any men were needed, was there any lack of them in England?" he asked, "was it wise to inform foreign states that we deemed ourselves thus dependent on foreign aid. Was it wise to hold forth to America the first example of obtaining assistance from abroad? Above all, if conciliation was the object full as much as conquest, how signal the imprudence thus in the midst of a civil strife, to thrust forward aliens to both parties, in blood, in language, and in manners."[170] Chatham inveighed against "the traffic and barter driven with every pitiful German prince that sells his subjects to the shambles of a foreign country. This mercenary aid on which you rely irritates to an incurable resentment the minds of your enemies. To overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder; devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty! If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while there was a foreign troop in my country, I never would lay down my arms, never! never! never!"
Chatham's popularity, affected somewhat by his acceptance of a pension, had been greatly diminished when he went to the House of Lords, but now, when the country was in danger, all eyes were turned on him as the only man who could conceivably extract from the situation peace with honour. "If there be a man who has served this nation with honour to himself and glory to his country," said George Grenville the younger in the House of Commons on February 11, 1778, "if there be a man who has carried the arms of Britain triumphant to every quarter of the globe beyond the most sanguine expectations of the people, if there be a man of whom the House of Bourbon stands more particularly in awe; if there be a man in this country who unites the confidence of England and America, is not he the proper person to treat with Americans, and not those who have uniformly deceived and oppressed them? There is not one present who is ignorant of the person to whom I allude. You all know I mean a noble, near relation, Lord Chatham." Many years later an able historian, reviewing the situation, repeated in no uncertain tone the substance of the speech of the promising young statesman. "There was one man to whom, in this hour of panic and consternation, the eyes of all patriotic Englishmen were turned," Lecky has written. "In Chatham England possessed a statesman whose genius in conducting a war was hardly inferior to that of Marlborough in conducting an army. In France his name produced an almost superstitious terror."[171]
In America it was pronounced with the deepest affection and reverence. He had, in the great French war, secured the Anglo-Saxon preponderance in the colonies; he had defended the colonies in every stage of their controversy about the Stamp Act, and had fascinated them by the splendour of his genius. If any statesman could at the last moment conciliate them, dissolve the new alliance, and kindle into flame the loyalist feeling which undoubtedly existed largely in America, it was Chatham. If, on the other hand, conciliation proved impossible, no statesman could for a moment be compared to him in the management of a war.[172]
The state of affairs at home and abroad called for the strong hand of a great minister. British troops were confined in Philadelphia and New York; the navy had been starved; the commissariat of the troops in America was shamefully mismanaged. America, not slow to follow the example of the mother-country to employ foreign troops, signed a treaty with France, the ratification of which by Congress took place on May 4, 1778.
"Thy triumphs, George, the western world resounds,
And Europe scarce thy paper glory bounds!
Paper that trumps abroad thy martial toils,
And copious harvest of Canadian spoils:
Tyrtæus-like, how Burgoyne fights his men,
Belligerent alike with sword and pen!
How Gates retires: and, as you rattle louder,
One Arnold sickens at the smell of powder!
How brave thine admirals! and so discreet
They never risk the honour of the fleet;
Nor trust the dangers of the middle-main,
Where Britain bids her thunder roar in vain;
But wisely coasting, give some privateer
A broadside; making her both feel and hear.
And sure, if paper can so cheaply win,
The harmless war of paper is no sin.