* * * * *
At length, Mr. Sp[ea]k[e]r, the Danes, Dutch, Swedes, Venetians,
Neapolitans, Spaniards, French, Portuguese, Muscovites, Turks, Saracens,
and others, that I skip over to avoid tediousness
* * * * *
And to bring it home to our feelings, the ancient Britons, hardy Welch,
Milesians, wild Irish, Saxons, Picts, Normans, English, and _Regattaites_
rush upon our mind, and
* * * * *
From this historical deduction, I cannot but think, Sir, navigation
highly necessary, highly favourable to liberty.
If, Sir, I wanted any additional reason for opposing the address, it
would best arise from the shameful neglect and inattention to those
brave and humane French officers, (particularly the Captain of the
Licorne,) lately on their parole at Alresford, half of whom, indeed,
ministry have cruelly suffered to run away. Besides, Sir, let us advert
to the wretched deficiency in our late naval equipments.⸺I have it,
Sir, from undoubted authority, that the several ships crews laboured
under a total deprivation of Tobacco. Tobacco! that staple commodity
of our once flourishing subjects, now, alas, our avowed enemies, in
Virginia, and the Southern colonies.—Sir, not only the quota of Gin
was miserably retrenched, but adultery, so congenial to the _Noah_ of
this day, pervaded every keg in the Royal Navy.—Sir, I myself know it
for a fact, that the speaking trumpet of the Albion was sent out in
so wretched a condition, that, in haling a fishing-boat, (I believe
a cod-smack) off Scilly, the second mate cracked his pipe, and half
the crew have been hoarse ever since—some of your ships, Sir, wanted
their complement of Chaplains:—and in others, I will not say that I
know there were not surgeons, but I will say, I do _not_ know that
there were. Sir, more fatal consequences have arisen from a strange
neglect of vegetables—Potatoes, radically rotten!—Carrots, diabolically
dry!—Turnips, totally tough!—Parsnips, pitifully putrid!⸺Scurvy, Sir,
Scurvy, like the angry Dæmon of Pestilence, has lighted up everlasting
bon-fires in the blotched brows and cicatracious cheeks of your scarified
seamen; so that every crew has flashed contagion, and reeked like a
floating Pest-house, with the baneful exhalations of disease.—And now,
Sir, that I’m on my legs, a word or two to trowzers—Such is the pitiful
œconomy of Administration, such the paltry treachery of Contractors,
that, what from an original coarseness of yarn, what, from the more
pernicious and slovenly texture of the workmanship, not a trowzer but
gaped with lacerations, whose expanded apertures discovered what⸺the
P[a]rl[ia]m[e]nt[a]ry decorum of this house, forbids me to reveal.
Spurred on by such powerful incentives, I take this earliest occasion
to give notice to the house, that I shall move, on this day fortnight,
for the house to resolve itself into a Committee, in order to take into
consideration the several weighty grievances, the outline of which I
have just now had the honour to give you a rude sketch.—When, I shall
also move you, Sir, that the several Maltsters, Distillers of Gin,
Venders of Tobacco, Traders in Trowzers, Retailers of Rum, Picklers of
Pork, and Purveyors of Potatoes, together with their several servants,
followers, apprentices and retainers, be ordered to attend this house _de
die in diem_, to answer all such questions and matters touching the said
enquiry, as shall be put to them by the Committee so to be appointed.—In
the mean time, Sir, I shall give my hearty concurrence to the noble
Lord’s Amendment, as promising to afford some degree of preliminary
information, which may tend to illustrate the more important matter in
the Enquiry which I have now proposed to set on foot.
[Sidenote: Mr. P[e]nt[o]n.]
Mr. _P[e]nt[o]n_, in reply, begged pardon for troubling the house,
but hoped they would indulge him in a few words, as he felt himself
particularly called on to answer some reflections which the Honourable
Gentleman, who had spoke last, had thought proper to throw out against
that board where he had the honour to sit.—He said, that, at the time of
the fitting out of Mr. K[e]pp[e]l’s fleet, he had made it his business
to be very much at Portsmouth, where, though it was a task exceedingly
repugnant to his private feelings and taste, he had, however, considered
it as an official service incumbent on one in his department, to
personally experiment the several provisions and stores prepared for that
equipment. That, impelled by such motives, he had, on several occasions,
drank the small beer, not unfrequently tasted the gin, and sometimes
smoak’d, nay chewed the tobacco; that, in his humble opinion, they were
all super-excellent in their several kinds. And, as to the imputed
delinquency relative to potatoes, he could assure the house, he had
bought up several tuns of the same species, for the consumption of his
own family—nay, he would go further, he would venture to acquaint that
house, that with some of those very identical potatoes, he had lately
had the happiness and honour to regale a certain Great Personage, then
his guest; a personage indeed of too high a rank to have his name even
alluded to, though on so weighty, and so important a business.
[Sidenote: Mr. B[urke].]
_Mr. B[u]rke_⸺I must confess, Sir, notwithstanding my long and melancholy
experience of the present administration, I cannot hear, without
astonishment, the language held forth by the speech, and echoed in this
day’s debate. This session, Sir, at a period big with horror, pregnant
with ruin to this country, is ushered in with the song of triumph; and
parliament are bid to rejoice at a time when nothing but the language
of despair is to be heard throughout the nation. Surely, Sir, the hour
is at last arrived, when humility and moderation ought to take place
of pride and confidence; when, instead of launching further into a sea
of troubles, we might be content to try what little can be saved from
the wreck of national honour and prosperity. Ministers might at length
condescend to tell us, what means are left to avert the gathering ruin;
how we are to tread back the mazes of error and folly, through which
we have been led; and where are the resources from which one gleam of
hope might dawn upon us, in the hour of danger and despair—But, deaf to
the solemn call of occasion and necessity, they rejoice in the absence
of thought, in the contempt of foresight. Like the wretch who seeks in
stupefaction a momentary relief from sorrow, they sink from a voluntary
intoxication into a torpid insensibility. The illusion, indeed, is not
to be confined within the narrow limits of their own minds; its baneful
influence must be circulated through every corner of the nation; and, by
a shameful perversion, that anxiety for the public welfare, which, in
times like these, is, in my opinion, the highest of public virtues, must
be amused with the pageantry of domestic warfare, or lulled by the opiate
of our American Gazettes. I own, Sir, even on principles of criticism,
I cannot but consider the stile of these Ministerial annals, as no
very favourable criterion of the present times. In happier days, their
characteristic was plain conciseness. Victories were then too rapid, too
numerous, to admit of a dilated relation.—Success is seldom tedious, but
I am afraid our highest atchievements have amounted to no more than the
inroads of savages, or the depredations of pyrates. Upon my word, Sir,
though we may censure our Officers, our Ministers at least shew some
generalship; if they cannot deceive the enemy, they are prompt enough
to mislead their countrymen; though they discover but little skill in
the arrangement of armies, they have an admirable talent in marshalling
Gazettes. They have given celebrity to sheep-stealing, and blazoned, in
all the pompous prolixity of ostentatious phraseology, the important
depredations at—_Martha’s_ Island—Certainly, Sir, the gallant Commander
of that expedition may vie in pastoral atchievements with Ajax, with
Jason, or at least Don Quixote; and, if he does not obtain a triumph, he
is clearly entitled to an _ovation_. Not, Sir, that I mean to cast any
reflection on those Officers and Soldiers to whose lot these ridiculous
services have fallen—they, no doubt, have effected every thing that the
bravery of the British troops in such a situation could accomplish; but
the Hand of Nature, Sir, has thrown in their way obstacles which it
was not in the most obstinate valour, in the most consummate wisdom to
surmount. It is a want of confidence in the directors of this war that
has chilled every vein, and slackened every sinew of military enterprize.
Besides, Sir, if I may be permitted to indulge a little superstition,
there is a certain fatality attending the measures of Administration:
through all their bungling operations of war, through all their wretched
plans of peace, the evil Genius, Sir, of this country, seems to haunt
their footsteps. He it is that has suffered them to wander on, undismayed
by danger, unabashed by reproaches, from one absurdity to another, ’till
our blunders and our follies have at length reared that stupendous
fabric of American Empire that now engrosses the attention, and claims
the wonder of mankind. Allow me, Sir, to pause for a moment, while I
contemplate this phœnomenon of modern ages, this new constellation in
the western hemisphere; a mighty and extensive empire, not rising by
slow degrees and from small beginnings, but bursting forth at once into
full vigour and maturity; not cherished in the soft lap of peace and
commerce, but shaking off in its outset the long established dominion of
a powerful master, and thriving in the midst of carnage and desolation.
“Ab ipso ducit opes animumq. bello.” If we view them in another light, as
completely enthroned in sovereignty, as receiving embassies from distant
potentates, as forming leagues with the princes and states of Europe,
we shall find more abundant matter for self-humiliation—I could wish to
shut my eyes on the scene that follows: The parent baffled and depressed,
imploring pardon of her injured and alienated children, yielding to
their successful resistance, what she had denied to their prayers and
petitions, and offering every concession short of a total emancipation;
but scorned and rejected in her turn, not (as she had rejected them)
with rudeness and insolence, but with firmness and with dignity; and
convinced, at length, that the day of conciliation is past, and that the
groundwork of peace can only be laid on the broad basis of equality and
independance.
Is this the unconditional submission the noble Lord in the American
department so prodigally announced? This is indeed unconditional
submission, but unconditional submission from Great Britain to America.
Gentlemen may remember how often my voice has preached peace within these
walls; how often it has warned administration to healing measures, while
the wounds of America might yet have been closed. I will still repeat it,
’till the echo of this house shall be conscious of no other sound; Peace,
Peace, Peace, is still my object.
It is now high time, Sir, that Gentlemen should awaken to a sense of
our danger, that Parliament should discard those wretched schemes of
short-sighted policy, which cannot, in our present situation, afford even
a temporary refuge. As yet, we experience only the beginnings of our
sorrows; but the storms of adversity are gathering fast around us, and
the vessel is still trusted to the direction of Pilots, whose ignorance
and obstinacy has been manifest to all the world.⸺What thanks, Sir, to
the vigilance of our Rulers, that we are not already sunk beyond the
possibility of redemption? What thanks to them, that the flower of our
army and navy, and with them all the hopes of Britain had not withered
before the power of a lately dejected but now triumphant enemy? Is it
owing to their care that the rich produce of the Western Isles has not
flowed into every harbour of France?
No, Sir, it is the hand of Providence that wards off for a while the ruin
of this declining empire. It is Providence alone that has preserved our
gallant Admirals in America, by an almost miraculous interposition.—It is
due to Providence alone, that the heart-strings of our commerce are not
cut asunder by the sword of our adversaries.
I own, Sir, I cannot join in an implicit approbation of such ministers: I
must be a little better acquainted with their merits before I can place
an unlimited confidence in their wisdom and discretion; that discretion
which has led us into a labyrinth of difficulties; that wisdom that
cannot find a clue for our deliverance.
[Sidenote: Mr. D[u]nn[in]g.]
Mr _D[u]nn[i]ng_ said a few words, which, from the learned gentleman’s
being particularly hoarse and uncommonly inarticulate, owing (as has
been suggested) to a violent cold, and a multiplicity of business in
Westminster-hall, we could not collect with the accuracy that we wish
to observe on every occasion. His language was neat and pointed, though
somewhat tinctured with professional pedantry: his arguments seemed
ingenious, though perhaps too refined for the comprehension of his
auditors. He had much antithesis, much verbal gingle, and many whimsical
climaxes. He talked of the competency or incompetency of the House to the
discussion of the present question; of the materiality or immateriality
of the proposed amendment; of the responsibility or irresponsibility of
Ministers. He said, he neither asked, nor knew, nor cared to what the
present question might ultimately tend; but of this he was confident,
that it’s propriety was clearly evinced, and it’s necessity irrefragably
proved by that opposition which purported to baffle it.—Upon the whole,
his harrangue seemed to be a medley of legal quibble and quaint humour.
[Sidenote: Mr. S[olicito]r G[enera]l.]
Mr. _S[o]ll[i]c[i]t[o]r-G[e]n[e]r[a]l_, CONTRA, began with _declaring_,
that when he _tuk_ his present office, he _understud_ it to be a _General
Retainer_, to _shew cause_ in behalf of Administration: That, therefore,
he hoped to be favoured with a few words by way of _replication_ to
his learned friend: That he might in this case have insisted on _want
of notice_, but, for the sake of candour in practice, he would waive
that objection; for, that he had no doubt, on the merits, but that
_judgment wud be given_ in his favour: _Protesting_, that the speech
was _warranted_ by _precedent_, and had _the highest authority_ in it’s
support: _Protesting_ also, that no _gud_ objection _cud_ be made to
the address, as it strictly pursued the very words of the speech. He
_justified, under an immemorial custom_, that Administration _have been
accustomed to have, and still of right ought to have_, certain echoes in
this House, called _Addresses_.—He admitted, that _true it was_, there
had been some _errors in our proceedings_ with respect to America; but
he was informed, and believed, that Sir Henry Clinton intended to have
a _new trial_. As to the cause of Great Britain _versus_ France, he
had been given to understand and be informed, that the place in which
the _trespass_ was supposed to have been committed, was, PARCEL of
the Island of Dominica, _in parts beyond the seas_; which place said
French, with force of arms, to wit, with ships of divers guns, drums,
trumpets, bayonets, hand grenades, and cartridge boxes, had broken and
entered, _doing nevertheless as little damage on that occasion as they
possibly cud_: but that he was clearly of opinion, that if the troops
of said France should _traverse_ the Channel, and lay _a Venue_ in Kent
or Sussex, _issue might be joined_ by the militia at Cox-Heath; and, in
that case, _afterwairds_, if verdict _shud_ be given in our favour, the
adverse party would sustain heavy and exemplary _damages_.—He concluded
with _averring_, that he approved of the address in it’s present form;
and that he should _demur_ to the amendment moved by the Noble _Lud_, as
_multifarious, uncertain, insufficient, and informal_.
[Sidenote: Mr F[o]x.]
Mr _F[o]x_ now rose; and, with that extent of information, refined
perspicuity, and vehemence of eloquence, by which he so invariably
commands the attention and admiration of the House, entered at large into
the subject of debate.
To do justice to the force of his reasoning, or elegance of his stile,
is totally beyond the utmost efforts of the editor.—All that he can
attempt is, to give an imperfect sketch of an inimitable original.⸺He
began with lamenting the accomplishment of that ruin, which, from time
to time, he had too justly predicted. He confessed, that little merit
could be ascribed to those prophecies; which, however chimerical and
visionary ministers had affected to consider them, were, in fact, no
more than plain deductions of what must necessarily ensue from their own
measures. He proceeded to recapitulate the conduct of Administration
since the prorogation of Parliament; particularly observing on the
impolitic removal of the troops from Philadelphia at the moment, when, if
ever, their continuance _there_ might have effected some good purpose.
The concealment of that intended evacuation, even from the Commissioners
themselves, was a part (he said) of that system of duplicity and
deception which pervaded the whole of ministerial conduct. Possibly,
indeed, Ministers were aware, that gentlemen of high character and
esteem would not have become the executive tools of a plan so wretchedly
concerted. The Commissioners therefore were not suffered to participate
in counsels, which, if they had known, they must have despised. Nor was
folly more conspicuous in the origin than in the prosecution of this
paltry disingenuous plan. Sir Henry Clinton, to whose courage and conduct
every praise is due, was ordered to return to New-York. Encumbered with
baggage, and pursued by an army superior in numbers, he made his way
thro’ the almost impervious forests of that country; and, by almost a
miraculous effort, not only secured his retreat, but in the Jerseys had
the good fortune to resist the enemy with some success—a success however,
which, without disparaging the British troops, must in great part be
attributed to General Lee; who, in consequence of his misconduct in that
affair, was immediately put in arrest, and afterwards suspended for the
space of a year.
He went on with indicating the circumstance of a fleet of Victuallers
having been sent to Philadelphia, after the army, which was to be
supplied by that fleet, had been ordered to evacuate Philadelphia.—That
fleet, he said, had narrowly escaped being taken in the Delaware; and,
thence, he argued Ministers were as culpable, as if, in consequence
of the capture of that fleet, the army, then arrived at New-York, had
famished for want of those provisions, on which their future subsistance
was wholly dependant.
He said, he was yet to learn what plan Administration could pretend to
alledge they had followed, or meant to follow, in America. Upon what
grounds could they attempt to prosecute an _offensive_ war? Or, taking
the alternative, how can they presume to say they have acted on the
_defensive_?⸺As to the first, they have thirty thousand men to conquer
the continent of America: admitting then the superiority of their army
and their navy, still he contended that superiority had been, and ever
must be ineffectual and useless; because, as long as the English army and
navy co-operate, the Americans will never have the unnecessary temerity
to give up the advantage of situation, or expose their cause to the
hazard of one decisive engagement. The last campaign was the clearest
proof of that position; and, now, though our fleet was superior to the
French, yet D’Estaign is safe at Boston.—It was, on that principle,
he doubted not, the gallant and experienced Commanders of the last
campaign had formed their conduct: It was their policy, and, in his
opinion, the best policy, to keep a collected force, and to avoid any
inferior exertions, that might require a separation, or weaken that
superiority, which, in case of a decisive action, they rightly judged
could alone have been fatal to American resistance.—It remained for
General Clinton to pursue a contrary policy.—Yet, though (he declared)
no man in that house entertained a higher respect for the personal and
professional merit of that able Commander, (who from his particular
talent for military enterprise, and his education under the Prince of
Brunswick, was best calculated for effecting such a plan) yet, from the
minutest investigation of the late Gazettes, he could not collect any
very auspicious presage of his military career. If indeed, from his
observation, of what had already happened, he might hazard an opinion of
what may happen, we had no reason to rejoice at the revival of that plan
of separation, which had proved so fatal in the Northern expedition. He
was sorry he had mentioned that expedition—It led him to a subject he
wished to avoid.—He had been accused of an asperity of reflexion on the
conduct of the noble Lord who planned that expedition. He would strive,
in future, to overcome his indignation, by indulging his contempt for
the Adviser of it.—Yet, thus much he would say; though unhappy for this
country, it was happy for our troops, happy for our officers, to be
directed and controlled by a Minister, to whose wisdom not even Envy
could ascribe one particle of their success, in whose imbecillity even
Justice would afford them an asylum from every disgrace.
Having thus stated the impracticability of an offensive war in
America, either on the former plan of united force, or on the present
separate efforts, he recurred to the other part of his argument,
whether Administration could pretend to alledge their having adopted
the alternative, and formed even a defensive plan for America and the
West-Indies?⸺If they dared to assume that merit, how could they expect
the House to attend, with any degree of patience, to such a mockery of
all truth? On any rational plan of mere defence, would they not have left
a force at New-York, Rhode-Island, and Halifax, fully able to prevent
any attack in that quarter; at the same time, detaching a sufficient
force to protect the West-India Islands?—Upon such a plan, would not any
spirited Minister have grafted some degree of activity and enterprise?
Would He not have attacked Martinique, Guadaloupe, or St. Domingo? Such
conduct would have struck terror to France, we should have been enriched
by new acquisitions, or, at least, have prevented the disgrace of our own
losses.
But, admitting that this defensive plan may have been but recently
adopted, how are Administration to regain the time they have lost, or
what resources of finance are still unexhausted to prosecute even this
plan? Are all the Country Gentlemen equally disposed to devote fifteen
shillings in the pound to carry on this defensive war? Are they all
equally delighted with the great and growing ruin of an accumulating
debt and a decreasing revenue? Or do they rest their hopes on the wealth
of our East-India trade? Do they know that, there too, the French are
undermining the foundation of our commerce? Or is it studiously concealed
from them, that the French ministry have sent Monsieur Vaugelin to
Canton, in the quality of their Consul at the Chinese Court?⸺He had heard
much of a sudden increase of national wealth by our late captures, but,
at best, the prizes of privateers are a partial benefit; they can enrich
but a few individuals; they afford no diminution of the general burthens
of a whole people. In the present instance, the truth was these boasted
prizes were, in fact, public losses; the French having had the art to
insure their most valuable ships, particularly the Indiamen, by English
policies—besides that, several of the richest captures were actually
freighted with consignments to English merchants.
But, supposing this extraordinary spirit of bounty should become general
among the Country Gentlemen, and that, to support a war which had totally
lost the original object of revenue, for which they had been tempted
to engage in it; supposing they were all well inclined to a land-tax
of fifteen shillings in the pound, and determined to overflow the
Exchequer with an extraordinary redundance of profusion, yet would they
be particularly happy that all that wealth should be portioned out to
subsidise Hanover, Hesse-Cassel, Hanau, Waldeck, Brandebourg-Anspach, and
all the mercenaries of Germany? Or that it should wholly be devoted to
satiate the monopolising avarice of a Russian alliance? You have no force
at home—you are almost defenseless.⸺
[Sidenote: Col. T[u]ffn[e]ll.]
(Here he was called to order by Colonel Tuffnell for speaking of the
_defenceless_ state of this country.) Col. _T[u]ffn[e]ll_ said, the word
_defenceless_ was, to the last degree, improper and disorderly; for that
he himself had the command at Dover Castle, opposite Calais, where,
though the country all about it was rather flat, he would not wish such
a word as _defenceless_ to be sent from that house to Paris, by any
friend of Dr. Franklin’s. And, as he was on his legs, he must say, that
word _defenceless_ was doubly wrong, from the late state of the camps;
where, in spite of French spies, there had been the utmost discipline,
unanimity, peace, and quietness; except, indeed, some desertions, much
nakedness, frequent floggings, and several duels.
Mr. _F[o]x_ then proceeded, without any remark on this interruption;
and observed, that every petty Landgrave and Margrave had already been
exhausted; they had no more Chasseurs, no more mercenary boors, to
fight, or rather not to fight, our battles. Russia is frozen up for
some months; and, not improbably, the courts of Berlin and Vienna would
sufficiently engage her in their Bavarian contest; or, at least, not
make it adviseable for her to lessen the internal defence of a country
surrounded with such powerful armies. As to the Fleet, how could it be
recruited with sailors or marines? Though even the spirit of adventure
could instantly man every Privateer that had been fitted out, yet the
noble Lord at the head of the Admiralty had pretended to palliate his own
incapacity and criminal neglect, by alledging it was almost impossible,
even with an extraordinary bounty, and the utmost rigour of an Impress
and an Embargo, to man the Royal Fleet—the fact was, the minds of the
people were obstinately bent against this American war; nay, even against
a French war, when France became the protector of America.
With such Ministers, such principles, such plans, such internal
resources, such prospects of alliance; Gentlemen were now called on to
echo the Speech, to panegyrize an Administration too despicable for
satire, to plunge this devoted country in aggravated ruin, and, with a
remorseless dispair, to _desolate_ what they had found impossible to
_subdue_.
[Sidenote: Lord N[o]rth.]
L[o]rd _N[o]rth_.[8] Mr. Sp[eake]r, at the same time that I agree with
many Gentlemen who have spoken in the course of this day’s debate, that
the present is a very serious moment of deliberation, I can by no means
join with them in thinking our situation is desperate, though, I confess,
it is distressing.
Sir, in all cases of distress or difficulty there is some relief to be
found in comparison. Gentlemen who hear me, will admit that this country,
in former wars, has been acquainted with unfortunate events. The loss
of some of our possessions, and the failure of enterprizes, marked the
onset of last war. Commanders were unsuccessful, perhaps criminal;—I do
not mean to draw a complete analogy between that period and the present—I
only mean to observe, that there has been no difficulty in modern
times, from which this Country has not been able to extricate itself,
when rouzed by a sense of its wrongs, and determined to vindicate its
justice, its dignity, and its honour.⸺In saying this, I shall be told by
Gentlemen that we were indebted to a great Character in the midst of our
misfortunes during the last war, and that, by his vigour and enterprizing
genius, this Country was extricated from her embarrassing situation. I
will join heartily in paying that tribute of truth to his memory⸺Would
to God that such a man were alive at this moment, to step forward with
the full exertion of the same zeal, and the same talents. I would yield
to none as a second in the work, though I confess my inability to be
employed as a first.
Sir, the Honourable Gentleman who spoke last, has gone over such a
variety of ground, and has given so large a history of the wickedness
of Ministers during the American war, that the asperity with which he
has delivered it, would be a sufficient reason for my silence, did I not
think it necessary, from a duty I owe to this house and to my country, to
give some answers to assertions which have fallen from him.
Sir,[9] to the first complaint, which the Honourable Gentleman makes,
of the Minister’s concealment from the Commissioners of the removal of
the troops from Philadelphia, I shall only answer, that the importance
of that proceeding required the nicest secrecy, and (though I do not
mean to suggest the least idea disadvantageous to the confidence of the
Commissioners) it is perhaps owing to the secret decision upon that
matter, that the removal of the fleet and army from the Delaware was
so timely, and so effectually executed. And I will add, that (whatever
opinions may have been conceived either by the Commissioners or any
other persons) the events, which have since happened, amply justify the
wisdom of the measure.⸺With respect to the bad policy, as some Gentlemen
have called it, of opening a negotiation with a retreating army, will
any one tell me, that, had your army and navy been blocked up by Mons.
D’Estaign’s fleet, with the prospect of all of the latter being utterly
destroyed in the Delaware, the Congress would have been more inclined to
treat with your Commissioners, than when all were safe at New-York?—Were
they inclined to negotiate with Lord H[o]we and Sir William H[o]we, (who
had sufficient powers) at Philadelphia, after the receipt of the bills,
and before the arrival of the new Commissioners?⸺No, Sir—no appearances
of reconciliation on the part of the Congress were shewn at that
time:—their minds, worked up by their leaders to a spirit of enthusiasm,
indulged the expectation of destruction to our fleet, at least, from the
powers of France.—I am free to confess, Sir, that when I heard Mons.
D’Estaign had arrived in America previous to Admiral Byron, (whose fleet
had been so unfortunately dispersed) I had little hopes from the temper
and inclinations of the Congress, that they would be induced to treat;
until some blow had been struck, and that on our part, of a successful
nature.—My confidence was, and still is, Sir, in the people there at
large—groaning under the worst of all tyrannies, involved in a ruinous,
and, I maintain, an unsuccessful war; and driven by their corrupted
leaders into a most unnatural connection with France; I say, Sir, if
one spark of British sense and honour yet remains, if one drop of blood
of this country still flows in the veins of the Americans, they will
avail themselves of our liberality, and return to their former happy and
enviable subordination to this country.
With respect to the Fleet of Victuallers, which, the Honourable
Gentleman observed, had a narrow escape from the Delaware, it was
supposed they had sailed from Corke, some time before the orders were
sent from hence for the evacuation of Philadelphia; and it is very lucky
they did not sail for New-York; for, if they had, they would have met
with Monsieur D’Estaign there.
It has been urged by the Honourable Gentleman, that the American war can
be no longer made offensive; and therefore, if a defensive one has been
adopted, why not leave a sufficient number of troops for the defence of
New-York, Rhode-Island, Halifax, and the Floridas? and strike some blow
at the French Settlements in the West-Indies.—Gentlemen will recollect
the little time that has elapsed since the evacuation of Philadelphia,
the attack and defence of Rhode-Island, and the transactions between Lord
Howe’s and D’Estaign’s Fleet, and they will see how difficult it was to
be at a great many places at the same time.—With respect to Dominica,
Sir, the loss of it is certainly a misfortune, but, I trust, only a
temporary one. There can be no blame laid upon the Ministers for that
event, because, in the very beginning of the war with France, ships were
sent sufficient to make at least a superior force to the French in the
West-Indies. I am aware of the force of the argument that will be made
use of upon this occasion—Gentlemen will say, You have so many places
and possessions to guard, that many of them must be vulnerable; and
therefore it is impossible to go on in a war with France and America at
the same time, with any reasonable expectations of success.—This argument
will lead me to enter a little into what I conceive to be our actual
situation at home and abroad.—With respect to this country, Sir, it is
protected by a fleet superior to the French.—It contains, to the honour
of those who have sacrificed domestic ease to public spirit, a very fine
army, including the regulars, of 50,000 men.—Your ships of trade and
merchandise have arrived safe and unmolested; whilst the Privateers and
Letters of Marque have made considerable havock upon the property of our
enemies.⸺And here I must remark upon two observations which have fallen
from the Honourable Gentleman who spoke last.—The first, with respect to
the number of sailors who have entered on board these ships at a time
when there was so much difficulty in manning the fleet, and which is
a charge of ignorance in obtaining them upon the Admiralty.—Sir, the
bounty which has been given to seamen by individuals, to enter on board
Privateers and Letters of Marque, has been enormous—I have been told
10 l.—15 l.—and 20 l. a-man.—This, with the expectation of the larger
share of prize-money received by lesser vessels, has been a sufficient
inducement to men to enter on board those ships.⸺Upon the other
observation, that the prizes we have taken consist chiefly of British
property, and are insured here—I shall only remark, that the Merchant
here who employs French shipping and French navigation, in preference
to the British, ought to suffer.—But, Sir, with respect to insurance,
let us see which of the two countries suffers most on that head.—The
insurance upon French ships homeward bound has been very high.—Upon the
French Indiamen, I have heard, so high as 75 l. per cent.—Then, Sir, this
being the case, if the Frenchman arrives safe in France, the Englishman
gets 75 l. per cent.—If he is taken, he loses but 25 l. per cent. whilst
his neighbour shares the prize entirely.—Surely, therefore, Sir, this
country has certainly much the best of the bargain.—This, however, Sir,
great as these advantages are, is no reason nor no inducement with me
for continuing the war.—I am obliged to recur so often to what has been
said, that I beg pardon for deviating from the chief object, at least
of my consideration—that of our actual situation at home and abroad.—I
have already said, Sir, that we are sufficiently defended by our navy
and army at home.—We have certainly a greater superiority of both in
North America—of ships in the West-Indies—superior in the East-Indies,
and shall be more so when the ships now ready to proceed thither, and
with troops, are arrived there.—Sir, there is wealth, I trust there is
likewise spirit enough in this country, to support us even in a more
embarrassing situation than the present. And, though Gentlemen may have
wished to impeach the security of this country, I will fairly tell
them, that, such is the confidence, even in the hour of her distress,
foreigners of all nations have given, and do give, the preference to our
funds;—the falling of which, immediately after the opening of the last
budget, is to be imputed entirely to the jobbing of a good purchase at
a low bargain, and not to a want of confidence in the nation. I could
deduce many reasons to justify me in this opinion; and I could call upon
the Dutch, as the best politicians, in support of it.—Nor, Sir, will I
admit the prospect of ruin to be before us, until I see that the justice
of our cause has left us, and that there no longer exists that zeal and
bravery which have distinguished the people of Great Britain, as superior
to the rest of the world⸺Sir, a great deal has been said by Gentlemen
(who have in my idea gone over, unnecessarily at this time, the whole
of the American war) with respect to the conduct of it.⸺I believe, even
the most inveterate enemies Ministers may have, will allow that there
was transported to a greater distance, than ever was known before, the
finest army; that you fed and maintained it at that distance; and that,
from its excellence and its superiority, you had a right to expect the
most happy advantages. So far the business, as it concerned Ministry, was
well transacted. But, Sir, then comes the question—were the plans and the
directions to execute them wise and practicable?⸺I cannot but say, Sir,
for my own part, and, as far as my Judgment went, they were so⸺I do not
mean to suggest any thing invidious towards the Officers to whom commands
and responsibility were delegated⸺I am not one of those who easily
condemn, certainly never will, before I have just grounds for doing so⸺If
our Army and Navy have not done in every part of the world what was
expected of them—Parliament can enquire, can approve, or censure⸺This
however appears to me but a secondary subject for our consideration.
Sir, much has been said with respect to the Union of France and America,
and the probability there is that Spain will soon be a party in it. I
will not rob many honourable Gentlemen of the gift of prophecy, of what
Spain will do in this conjuncture; but, Sir, surely her interest and her
policy should be to resist the Independance of America—She will never,
by protecting rebellion in our colonies, hold out encouragement to her
own to follow their example. It is idle, Sir, to indulge the idea of the
Spanish settlements in South America trading with the North Americans, by
purchasing, with Spanish Bullion, North American commodities. The Court
of Spain is much too wise, I think, to adopt such a measure. What, Sir,
might be the consequence? An intercourse and trade between the extremes
of that great quarter of the globe might at last be united by a centre,
and establish the greatest dominion in the World. For, time may produce
daring and flagitious characters in that continent also, whose object it
may be to destroy the sovereignty of Spain over her Colonists—Neither can
I agree with Gentlemen in thinking, that the union of America and France
can be lasting. I might as well suppose that different religions, Liberty
and slavery, in short, that contrarieties can form a system, as admit
that unity and harmony can ever last between France and America—Neither
of the countries expect it—The one supports, and the other receives,
merely for the temporary purpose of distressing Great Britain⸺France can
have no thoughts of establishing herself in the Heart of America. And
America will only avail herself of the assistance of France, until she is
at peace with this Country.
In the mean time, however, our exertions must be of a powerful nature
to resist this unnatural alliance—And here, Sir, let me return to
the consideration of what is proper to be done in consequence of his
M[ajes]ty’s speech.
Sir, in giving my entire approbation of what has been proposed by the
Honourable Gentleman in the motion for the Address, I trust I shall be
forgiven, if I submit to the House the necessity there is at this time
of vigour and firmness in all our proceedings, in order to give a spirit
to national exertion. And, whilst we regret that even our unanimity and
liberal offers have not been productive of peaceable accommodation with
America, I trust that her ingratitude may yet meet with the recompence
such a conduct has deserved: in holding out this doctrine, I mean not to
forget that America is still the offspring of Great Britain: that when
she returns to her duty, she will be received with open arms, and all her
faults be buried in oblivion.
In a word, Sir, the period is arrived, when it is no longer a question
who is to be Minister, who are to compose a party, or who have been to
blame. Such discussions will not probably obtain conviction on either
side—The day has passed for reflexions on those who have been alledged to
have given confidence to Insurgency, or on those who have been said to
have provoked it. The object of your consideration is now⸺the salvation
of your Country.
For myself, Sir, I shall no longer desire to remain in my own situation,
than his Majesty, and this House, think I can be useful in it. If any one
Man will take it from me, He will relieve me from the most anxious tasks
that any Minister probably ever experienced: But, till then, Sir, I look
to the support of this house, and to that of all good Men in defending
and maintaining the glory and honour of Great Britain.
[Sidenote: Col. B[a]rré.]
Col. _B[a]rré_ began with recounting his predictions.—I foretold in the
outset of the American contest, that your obstinacy would establish
independance of the colonies. My first prophecy was, that France would
join them—was I wrong?—I will boldly hazard one prediction more—I say,
Spain sooner or later will join both⸺such are the allies of America.—Who
are your’s? The Onandagas, the Tuscaroras, and the Choctaws! These are
your copper coloured allies, that fix a stain on the name of Britain;
and disgrace this country even in victory, as well as defeat—I knew of
these alliances, and their barbarities, so early as the 8th of June
last. I have a letter from a friend of mine at Poughkeepsie, of that
date;—the Indians, headed by Col. B[u]tl[e]r, began their rapine in
_Cherry Valley_; parties of _Indians and Tories_ (so my friend couples
those blood-hounds of desolation) butchered the innocent inhabitants of
_Sacandago_, and spread ruin and carnage through _Minisink_—I am sure,
Col. B[u]tl[e]r, (who is indeed as gallant and amiable an Officer as
ever I knew, and I know him well) never would have embrued his hands in
innocent blood, but that he knew he must sacrifice his feelings to the
speculative, I do not say practical, violence, of the American Secretary.
Gen. C[a]rlt[o]n lost the Noble Lord’s favour by his abhorrence of
the tomahawk and the scalping knife:—have not we tried those satanic
instruments of death too long? Is the whole of Miss _Macreas_ race to be
sacrificed? Not one innocent babe left unbutchered to lisp out the tale
of that devoted, that unhappy family? Of whom are we now to enquire for
any official documents of your war? I see no Secretary of War in this
house? Does the American Secretary monopolize and consolidate all warlike
business? I hope not.⸺
Sir, I beg pardon for the heat which I find rising within me—but the
inexorable hour of vengeance is not far distant; the heavy load of black
and bloody guilt will sink you all.—The time will come when the thunder
of the cannon will be heard at your walls. Examples will be made. The
Tower and the Block must expiate the crimes of Ministers. The voice of
truth will be heard. The Rubicon is passed.⸺Sir, what is the comparative
state of the revenues of France, and of this country? Mons. Neckar, a
very able and a very amiable man, has, I understand, found taxes, and
not oppressive ones, for two years;—is that a fact?—The revenue of this
country is diminished—it has been gradually so during this detestable
war—will Ministers deny it? Good God, Sir, what a state are we in?
Dominica lost!—Sir, Monsieur Bouillé was once my particular friend—Sir,
he is returned to France for fresh powers and orders—look to your
West-India settlements, callous as we are, we cannot bear the loss of
them.
Sir, I am astonished at the blind credulity of Ministry—can they be so
very simple as to trust to vague compliments against those decisive words
of the Pacte de Famille, the Family Compact, “Qui attaque une couronne
attaque l’autre;” (I translate for the country Gentlemen) whoever attacks
one crown attacks the other.⸺I know Count Almodovar—I was introduced to
him by my old friend, Don Francisco Buccarelli:—I never shall forget
dining with him at a kind of Table d’Hotes, in a tavern opposite the
Escurial;—as chance would have it, many more illustrious characters dined
with us that day; there was the Count, his wife’s cousin, and myself, on
one side of the table;—Count Cobentzel, and Baron Reidesdel (who were
then on their travels) and Duke de Chartres (who had just come from
Paris) sat opposite to us—Monsieur de Sartine (who came in the Duke’s
vis a vis) was at the foot of the table; and we put Buccarelli in the
chair⸺we had an excellent dinner—the wine was good—and we toasted the
Madrid beauties in bumpers of Packeretti—however, I was not so far gone
but I can very well remember what Almodovar whispered in my ear, while
_Cobentzel and Reidsdale_ were drinking Maxamilian Joseph of Bavaria’s
health. Colonel (says he) _Il alte se volto Estremadura che molto_—I
won’t translate it. I feel the respect due to Ambassadors.—But, will
Ministry answer a plain question? I put it roundly, because I ask for a
positive answer—Is there no treaty now on the tapis to cede Gibraltar, or
Port Mahon?—I say, the neutrality of Spain is to be trucked for by the
dismembring this country of its best possessions.—Here he proceeded to
read variety of Gazettes, American News-papers, two or three Treaties,
letters from gallant Officers in all parts of the world; accounts of
Cl[i]nt[o]n’s retreat; transactions of Lord H[o]we, and Mons. D’Estaign;
Alderman Oliver’s letter—affair at Rhode Island, &c. &c. &c. He went
also into a string of similar surmises, recognized various intimates
in Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and interspersed the whole with
a multiplicity of anecdotes, proverbs, quotations, menaces and bon
mots—concluding, that having then read to the house all the various
papers he himself could collect, he found it necessary to give his vote
for the Amendment, as the only way to get at more.
[Sidenote: Mr H. St[anle]y.]
Mr. H. _St[anle]y_ observed, that many Gentlemen had deviated from the
business immediately before the house, which, in his opinion, was merely
this: Whether this house will or will not support his M[ajest]y, and the
executive powers of government, in the endeavours to recal the Americans
to obedience, and to punish the natural enemies of this country?[10] That
his own opinion was determined by a conviction of the necessity, in this
hour of difficulty and distress, for exertion and firmness. Much has
been said of the wealth and resources of France in comparison of those
of England. I can only say, Sir, from all the observations I have been
able to make, that France is, with respect to its finances, certainly an
impoverished country. It has not yet recovered the impression made by
the last war; and, whatever Gentlemen may think, neither Mons. Neckar
(whom I very much respect) nor any other person, will be able, at least
for a great length of time, to overturn the old mode of attainment of
French money; I mean, Sir, by the vehicle of the _Fermeurs Generaux_.
It must be a minister of great courage indeed, and a King of Terrors,
that will new model the French finances; new taxes may be imposed, but
I much doubt of the collection of them. When a good contract has been
long in possession, it is too sweet to resign easily; and the _Fermeurs
Genereaux_ are too important to be offended, especially, when the state
is necessitated to have recourse to their assistance. In saying this, I
give full credit to Mons. Neckar for his attempt to improve the revenue
of France, and that too, when the attempt is surrounded with so much
difficulty and danger.⸺The revenue of this country, Sir, has not suffered
by the American war; the surpluses of the sinking fund, are as great as
during the state of perfect peace with America. Other countries have
taken from us those manufactures which we exported before with bounties
to America.
As I think Britain is still equal to resist, and, I trust, to subdue all
its Enemies, I am clearly for the Motion which has been proposed, and
seconded, by the honourable Gentlemen, with so much credit to themselves,
and with so particular a desert of the approbation of their Country.
[Sidenote: Gen. C[o]n[wa]y.]
_Gen. C[o]n[wa]y._ Mr. Sp[eake]r, I beg pardon for troubling the House
with one short word, Sir, at this late hour of the night, Sir, when
there are many Gentlemen very desirous⸺and much more capable than I am,
of speaking—upon so material—so important—so comprehensive a business—I
may say, Sir—as that which now immediately comes before us—for our
deliberation.⸺In doing this, Sir—in offering my poor sentiments—upon this
matter, Sir⸺I own, I feel some degree of warmth, at the supineness—at the
coolness—I may say—of the Ministers in so dangerous—so hazardous—and, God
knows, probably so destructive an hour⸺And, Sir, I hope I may suggest
my thoughts at so critical a period, when, indeed, all Europe and
America are convulsed—and shaken—by the imbecillity, the inattention,
and the indecision of Ministers; who have so supinely, so cooly, and so
indecisively sat _with their hands before them_, waiting for events—and
contingencies⸺In saying this, Sir,—I mean not to throw any reflexion upon
any of them—Most of them I know to be men of honour and ability—but, Sir,
I beg pardon, Sir, for taking up the time of the house, Sir; I think the
moment is past when any system can prevail, I mean on the part of this
country over America. Your West-India Islands are unprotected—Dominica is
gone—Who knows but Jamaica is gone too? What force have you at Antigua? I
understand, Admiral Barrington is gone from Barbadoes. What is to become
of St. Vincents and Grenada? Good God! Sir, will the Nation sit still
under these apprehensions? Have Ministers taken care of Ireland? Does
the Noble Lord underneath me know the state of Guernsey and Jersey? Will
they be able to resist Count Broglio with 50,000 men? Is your force,
particularly at Jersey, equal to resistance—Sir, at this moment, I
tremble for Jersey.[11]⸺
In one short word, Sir, I beg pardon—I do trust in God, Sir ... in the
King ... Sir, and in the spirit of this unhappy Nation, Sir, that we
shall be relieved from these dreadful apprehensions, and difficulties,
and that we shall see once more, Peace, Harmony, and Wisdom, resume their
order in this country, in the stead of weakness, irresolution, wavering
folly, absurd doubts, and indecision, Sir.
[Sidenote: Mr S[aw]b[rid]ge.]
Mr _S[aw]b[rid]ge_⸺Example—impeachment—axes—Tower—blood—Sister
Mac[au]ly—republicanism—Washington, greatest man in the World—will
be heard—tyranny at Warley-Common—militia men turned to
road-pioneers—undermining trees—sand in bread—waste of powder—Middlesex
election—vast expence of flints—triennial parliaments—body politic—ill
humours—state-surgeons—example—axes—Tower—blood⸺_Da Capo_.
The question being now called for with most violent impatience, the House
prepared to divide.⸺The Editor cannot but lament that the eloquence
of the day is compriseable in so small a compass.—He regrets, with
many others, the silence of those who might have been supposed, from
attachment, from principle, and a sense of honour, to have taken a more
decided part in the debate. Probably it might be considered too severe to
impute the conduct of those Gentlemen to the precariousness of the times,
to the expectation of new Administrations, or to the fretfulness of an
insatiable avarice of wealth and power.
Little more remains to add, than that the House having become very
clamorous for a division, at half past three the question on the
Amendment being put, the motion was rejected by a majority of 261 to 148.
Tellers for the Ayes, Mr T. T[ownshe]nd and Mr B[y]ng—for the Noes, Sir
G[re]y C[oope]r and Mr C[harles] T[ownshe]nd.⸺The main question being
then put, the original Address was carried in nearly the same proportion.
* * * * *
Immediately after the division, the H[ous]e were much astonished at Mr
C[harle]s T[u]rn[e]r’s calling their attention to a most libellous,
nefarious, and enormous pamphlet, entitled _Anticipation_, calculated to
misrepresent the debates, and vilify the proceedings of P[arliamen]t;
observing, that the publication of Honourable Gentlemen’s speeches
_before_ they could possibly have been spoken, was infinitely more
dangerous to the constitution than mistaking them after they had actually
been delivered; as not only the public were thereby much more likely
to be deceived, but many country Gentlemen were most illegally hurried
up to town before the time, to the great annoyance of themselves and
cattle. Besides, what struck at the very heart-strings of debate, many
good speeches were marred thereby, and Honourable Gentlemen stopt from
repeating their own words, lest they should authenticate the said
publication.
For all which reasons, he humbly moved, that the Publisher of a
pamphlet, entitled, _Anticipation_, be immediately taken into custody
by a Messenger of this House, together with all papers in his shops and
warehouses, in order that this House may be enabled to discover the
Author or Authors of this very black conspiracy. He moved also, that the
several statutes against forgery, coining, and uttering, knowing to
be false, forestallers, and regraters, &c. &c. be forthwith all read.
And further⸺But, the laughter having now become intense, the remnant of
his oratory was cut short by a most clamorous repetition of _Adjourn_,
_Adjourn_; so that it was impossible for the Editor to collect the result
of this important motion.
And then the House adjourned till the morning, nine of the clock.