THE DUTCH CRISIS
(1786, 1787)
If we lose the Netherlands, France will acquire what she has always
considered as the climax of her power.--SIR JAMES HARRIS, 1st May,
1787.
His Majesty wishes only the preservation of the independence
and true constitution of the [Dutch] Republic.--THE MARQUIS OF
CARMARTHEN, 29th June, 1787 (B. M. Add. MSS., 35539).
We have interrupted our survey of Pitt’s foreign policy in order
to present a connected account of that interesting episode, the
commercial treaty with France. But this event took place in a year
which witnessed the growth of a crisis so serious as to threaten
ruin to that constructive effort. The crisis arose from the sharp
conflict of interests between Great Britain and France in Dutch
affairs, as described in Chapter XIII. As no adequate account has yet
appeared in English on this question, I propose to treat it on a scale
proportionate to its importance.
The reader will remember that the feuds between the Patriots, abetted
by France and the Stadholder’s party, had already aroused keen interest
at London and Paris; that our able envoy, Harris, had bravely waged
an unequal campaign for the Prince and Princess of Orange--unequal,
because Pitt persistently forbade him to commit this country to the
defence of their cause, though sentiment and policy linked it to that
of England. Further, the general situation of the Powers then seemed
irretrievably to doom the Prince’s fortunes. Frederick the Great, in
his desire to keep on good terms with France, refused to help his
niece, Wilhelmina, Princess of Orange. Austria was allied with France,
and Russia with Austria. Finally, neither Pitt nor the Marquis of
Carmarthen deemed it possible to frame an alliance with Prussia; and
all the advances which they made to the Czarina, Catharine II, and the
Emperor Joseph II, were coldly repelled. In fact, no Power cared for
an alliance with England. The conclusion of the Franco-Dutch alliance
of November 1785 seemed to close all doors against her. When the
fortunes of a State have been on the decline, it is very hard to stop
the downward movement. That was the position of Great Britain early in
the year 1786.
The only sources of hope seemed to be in the imminence of the death of
Frederick and in the outrageous actions of the Dutch Patriots. Their
violent support of provincial rights and hatred of the Stadholder
and his mildly centralizing policy were carried to strange lengths.
The Estates of Holland decreed that no Orange songs were to be sung,
and no Orange colours worn. Harris relates that a woman came near
to be hanged for the latter offence. Even the vendor of carrots was
suspect unless he left the roots in a protective coating of soil. To
a home-loving people like the Dutch these pedantries became ever more
hateful. The bovine character of the Stadholder was to some extent a
safeguard; for who could reasonably claim that his colossal powers of
inaction would ever be a danger to the Republic? It is fairly certain
that he had the allegiance of the rural population everywhere, even
in the Province of Holland; but the populace of the large towns was
overwhelmingly on the side of the Patriots; and the Estates of Holland
(a province which contained more than half the population, and more
than half the wealth, of the whole Union) decidedly opposed him.[514]
Of the smaller provinces, Guelderland, Zealand, and Friesland supported
the Stadholder. Utrecht was torn with schism on this subject, the rural
districts cleaving to him, while the city of Utrecht broke away, and
defied his authority. As Pitt forbade Harris to take any step which
would commit England to the defence of the Stadholder, that envoy
continued to play an apparently hopeless game. But his skill, resource,
his commanding personality, and occasional bribes, enabled him to
continue the struggle, even in democratic Holland. His great difficulty
was that France in April 1786 had let it be known that she would allow
no other Power to interfere in Dutch affairs, and would forcibly oppose
any such attempt. To strive against the Patriots while they had a
ground of confidence utterly denied to their opponents, was to condemn
Harris to struggle against great odds, and never has an unequal fight
been more gallantly fought. The worst symptom was the rise of bodies
of armed burghers, styled Free Corps, which soon attained considerable
strength. Encouraged by success, the Patriots sought to depose William
V outright, and proclaimed the Princess Regent during the minority of
her son. She rejected this scheme with indignation. Failing here, they
struck at the authority of the Prince by procuring from the Estates of
Holland his deposition from the command of the regular troops of that
province. This blow could not be parried; and it dealt consternation
among the loyalists.
There was no hope of help from Frederick the Great. For the reasons
previously stated he had hardened his heart against all the appeals
that came from the Princess of Orange; and she finally rejected with
scorn his advice that she should come to terms with the Patriots and
France. On 16th May 1786 Harris summed up the relations of Prussia to
France and Holland in this sprightly way:
“Prussia says to France ‘Do what you please in Holland, but leave
at least the appearance of a Stadholderian Government.’--France
replies--‘We shall lose the confidence and support of the Patriots
and with it our whole influence in the Republic if we mention the
word “Stadholder”; take from us the odium of the measure by declaring
you cannot see him deposed. We then may, without displeasing our
friends, espouse his cause to a certain degree, and we shall both be
satisfied.’”[515]
While the welter was ever increasing in this once prosperous land,
there came a gleam of hope from the East. On 17th August 1786 Frederick
the Great was gathered to his fathers, and his nephew Frederick
William II reigned in his stead. As Prince Royal he had spoken warmly
of his resolve to right the wrongs of his sister, the Princess of
Orange; but as King he disappointed her hopes. His character was
despicable. Extravagance and dissipation were accountable for private
debts amounting to one million sterling at the time of his accession
and soon after to three-quarters of a million more.[516] But his
irresolution was of more serious consequence. A vicious man may excel
as a ruler; an unstable man, never. Frederick William had scarcely a
feature in common with the masterful race of the Hohenzollerns. The
contrast between him and his uncle was startling. In place of that
silent, cynical, and dogged ruler, Berlin and Sans-Souci rejoiced
in a handsome, affable monarch, who seemed made to win the hearts
of all at first sight and to lose them on closer acquaintance. For
it was found that with him work and policy depended on whims and
moods. Swaying to and fro between energy and sloth, violence and
timidity, he disconcerted his Ministers, until they came to see that
the King’s resolves were as fleeting as his feelings. After the
first flush of activity wore away, languor pervaded every bureau of
that centralized autocracy. On 6th January 1787 Lord Dalrymple, our
ambassador at Berlin, wrote of the King: “in general he appears very
indifferent about what is passing”; and he further reported that he
urgently desired to “get rid of so irksome an affair” as his sister’s
troubles, and looked on the Prince of Orange as the chief cause of
the dissensions in the Dutch Netherlands.[517] Another of our envoys,
with more wit than is usually found in semi-official letters, summed
up the difference between Frederick the Great and Frederick William II
by saying that the former had the wisdom of Solomon, but the latter
resembled that potentate only in respect of his overflowing harem.
Mirabeau’s opinion on the imminent downfall of the Prussian State is
too well known to need quoting here.
Yet the nonchalance of Frederick William in foreign affairs is not
wholly indefensible. Confronted by the alliance of those scheming
and unscrupulous rulers, Catharine II and Joseph II, he could effect
little until he had the friendship of one at least of the Great
Powers; but France was pledged to Austria, and England was still
averse from a Prussian alliance. On 20th October 1786 Dalrymple thus
summed up his arguments against a compact with the Court of Berlin:
“We might indeed form a temporary co-operation with Prussia for some
particular purposes, as at present in the case of Holland, where
little or no opposition is to be expected from the two Imperial
Courts; but to enter into a general and permanent system with Prussia
alone, without the concurrence of other Powers, would be a measure,
in my apprehension, perfectly frantic, and only to be justified by a
combination similar to that in 1756 being formed against us.” Four
days later, after an interview with Hertzberg, Dalrymple wrote that
a Northern League between us and the Baltic Powers was out of the
question during the lifetime of the Czarina, seeing that Turkish
schemes stood first in her thoughts, and these implied alliance with
Joseph.[518] As will shortly appear, the knowledge which the Turks had
of these schemes was to lead to the Eastern War of 1787, which ended
the suspense besetting Prussia and England.
For the present the isolation of these States left them in a most
precarious position. The utmost they could hope for was to struggle on,
waiting for a turn of Fortune’s wheel in their favour. The first aim of
the Court of Berlin was to thwart the Austrian scheme for exchanging
the Belgic provinces for Bavaria. Joseph II still pursued this phantom,
though he had his hands full in Brabant, where philosophism had again
stirred up revolt, and his alliance with Catharine portended war with
the resentful Turks. Frederick William believed, and perhaps rightly,
that so long as the Austro-Russian alliance held good, Prussia could
take no step Rhinewards. He therefore saw in the entreaties of his
sister only a scheme to draw him into fatal courses; and when the
entreaties became reproaches his answers became few and cold.[519]
Unfortunately, too, the influence of the veteran diplomatist,
Hertzberg, was waning, because of an austere and somewhat superior
manner which the young King resented. That Minister favoured a close
understanding with England with a view to joint action at The Hague;
but there was associated with him at the Foreign Ministry a colleague,
Count Finckenstein, who strongly inclined towards France, thwarted
Hertzberg’s efforts, and prejudiced the King against an English
alliance.[520] To add to the perplexities of the time, Thulemeyer, the
Prussian envoy at The Hague, supported France; and Harris suspected
him, perhaps rightly, of having been bought over by the Patriots and
their paymasters. He certainly thwarted the efforts of Görtz, a special
envoy sent from Berlin to The Hague; and finally the Princess of Orange
begged her brother, seeing that he would not help her, at least not to
allow Thulemeyer to act in concert with De Vérac, the French envoy at
The Hague.[521] Early in May she sent a request for a loan of Prussian
cannon in order to withstand the growing forces of the Patriots, but
met with a refusal.
Matters, however, now took a turn for the better for that unfortunate
Princess. Latterly the Court of Berlin had sought to arrange with that
of Versailles a plan of joint intervention so as to end the strifes
in the United Provinces in a way not too derogatory to the Prince of
Orange. But this proposal was accompanied by conditions which were at
once very tartly rejected by the Court of Versailles. This refusal of a
friendly overture was to have far-reaching results, for the irritation
of the Prussian monarch now led him to favour the idea of intervention
in Holland.
* * * * *
This brief survey will have enabled us to understand the gradual
development of Pitt’s policy from strict neutrality to tentative and
cautious activity. The change of attitude will be found to correspond
closely with a change in Continental affairs which enabled him with
little risk to raise his country once more to her rightful position.
It is the mark of a great statesman to keep his gaze on all the chief
matters of public interest, to weigh their importance, and to make
his policy the resultant, as it were, of the leading forces and best
tendencies of his age. No one who has not a clear vision and ripe
judgement can give such an assessment and act on it with tact and
firmness. Small minds are certain to be diverted towards side issues
and hastily to take up questions which are unripe for solution. From
these faults Pitt’s singular maturity of mind and steadiness of purpose
kept him free. He saw that the greatest of British interests was peace;
and, despite the pressing claims of Harris at The Hague, he refused to
be drawn blindfold into the irritating and obscure questions there
at stake. True, it was important to keep the United Provinces from
becoming dependent on France; but he believed that the efforts of the
Patriots in that direction might be curbed by means of diplomacy. No
statesman prefers a warlike to a peaceful solution unless all the
resources of his own craft have been exhausted, least of all could the
champion of economy, who naturally discounted the clamorous appeals of
Harris for help.
There were reasons why our envoy should urge Pitt to adopt a more
forward policy. In the autumn of 1786 the fortunes of the Stadholder
steadily declined, and the raids of the Patriots on his prerogatives
became more daring and successful. In September, as we saw, he was
deprived of the command of the regular forces in the Province of
Holland. His opponents, the Patriots, next strengthened their Free
Corps, drew a cordon of troops along the frontiers of Holland, and
overthrew his authority in the hitherto loyal provinces, Overyssel and
Groningen. The city of Utrecht also defied him and elected Estates,
while those of the still loyal Province of Utrecht assembled at
Amersfoort. Other towns, even in the loyal provinces, seemed likely
to follow the example of Utrecht. In face of these facts the appeals
of Harris for help became more urgent than ever. On 24th October he
wrote privately to Carmarthen: “As we are afraid to threaten, we must
either bribe or give up the game.”[522] But, realizing more and more
that the obstacle to his forward policy lay in the peaceful resolves
of Pitt, he wrote directly to him on 28th November, pointing out that
France was making amazing strides everywhere at our expense, that she
was on the point of gaining complete control over the United Provinces,
and he hinted that that accession to her naval strength and to her
resources in the East Indies would enable her soon to attack England in
overwhelming strength.
Much could be said in favour of this view. The activity of France in
the East, as we saw in the last chapter, had been very threatening,
and it is clear that the schemes of St. Priest and other French agents
in Egypt pointed out the path on which Bonaparte set forth with heroic
stride thirteen years later. Dreams of a French Empire in the East
haunted many minds at Paris in 1786. On 7th September, shortly before
the signature of the Anglo-French commercial treaty, Hailes, Secretary
of Legation at Paris, reported that the French Government seemed to
be preparing for “the entire subversion” of British power in India;
and he cynically added that when the time for action came, “then, as
formerly, the rights of mankind will be held out as the pretext.”[523]
Even Eden sent word that there was talk of a design that France should
gain control over all the Dutch ports in the East Indies.[524] When we
remember that the Cape of Good Hope was a Dutch possession, and that
the British lands in India were scattered and weak, we can appreciate
the gravity of the crisis.
The surmises of Hailes and Eden were correct. There was a powerful
party at the French Court which worked in alliance with the Dutch
Patriots for the control of the East Indies. They saw their opportunity
in the bankruptcy then threatening the Dutch East India Company; and
in the winter of 1786 the Patriot leader, the Rhinegrave of Salm, sent
to the Cabinet of Versailles a plan of a Franco-Dutch alliance with
a view to the overthrow of the British power in India. Thanks to the
pacific views of Louis XVI and Vergennes, nothing came of the scheme;
but the Patriots then changed front and offered to hand over to France
the important naval station, Trincomalee, in the north-east of Ceylon,
to serve as a place of arms for France in case of war. This plan had
a favourable reception at Versailles, some of the Ministers urging
that 18,000 troops should be sent out under the command of General de
Bouillé. This soldier (the hero of Carlyle’s stirring account of the
Mutiny of Nancy in 1790) states in his Memoirs[525] that he remained
some time at Paris in hopes of receiving the order for the conquest
of the British settlements in India; but he remained in vain; for the
French Cabinet _found no opportunity for going to war_. The events now
to be described will explain the sorry ending to these golden hopes;
and the reader will bear in mind that the struggle of the rival Powers
for ascendancy in Holland concerned the fate of Britain’s Indian Empire
no less than her position in Europe.[526]
All the more astonishing, then, is the calmness of Pitt’s reply to
Harris of 5th December 1786. In it he directed him to do all in his
power to keep together the Orange party, so that it might “act with
advantage, both for their own country and for us, on some future day,
if it should arrive.” For the present, however, that party must “lie
by,” and avoid pushing things to an extremity which would commit both
themselves and England.[527]
This cautious policy was perhaps in some measure due to the King,
who strongly opposed a forward policy in the Netherlands. His chief
preoccupation in the years 1786, 1787, was the extravagance of the
Prince of Wales and the rapidly increasing expense of his own family,
to which he refers in pathetic terms. The news of the activity of Sir
James Harris at The Hague “much affected” him; and when, on 7th January
1787, Lord Carmarthen wrote to Windsor in order to suggest a more
energetic policy in the Netherlands, a sharp retort came, bidding that
Minister remember “the disgraceful conduct” of England in the late war,
and asserting that he (George III) refused to act as the _Draw-can-sir_
of Europe.[528]
From the tenour of the King’s letter to Pitt on 8th January we may
infer that Carmarthen had kept his overture to Windsor secret; and
Pitt, on hearing of it from the King, must have felt piqued at his
colleague’s action. Already they were on strained terms owing to
Pitt having insisted on Carmarthen’s presence at Court, despite
indisposition, in order to present the Portuguese envoy; and a chief
who demanded so strict an observance of etiquette was certain to resent
any private attempt of his Foreign Minister to influence the King’s
opinions on a far weightier question. There is an apologetic tone in
Carmarthen’s hitherto unpublished letter of 8th January to Pitt. The
first sentences refer to his ill health, and are omitted:
Hendon, Jan. 8, 1787.
MY DEAR SIR,
I wish to lay before you _in confidence_ my letter to the King of
yesterday, together with His Majesty’s answer of this morning’s
date, which I am free to confess to you has occasioned me a
considerable degree of uneasiness.... You will, I am sure, do me
the justice to remark the manner in which I have stated my opinion
to the King and I have always understood your sentiments to be
precisely the same in regard to the _object_, though perhaps
more cautious (from prudential and well founded motives) in the
means to be employed. I am free to own that, eager as I am for
preventing France acquiring the absolute command of Holland, I have
always thought we might succeed by means of private negotiation
and intrigue. The experiment of trying to combat her with her own
weapons would have some merit; and, convinced as I am that she
has reckoned all along upon England not interfering, I think the
present moment must not be passed by without our endeavouring to
make the most we can of the Provinces which are opposed to Holland,
and of the present firmness of the Prince and Princess of Orange.
_L’Assemblée des Notables_ is I think some security for the pacific
disposition of France, or rather for her inability of indulging
any of a contrary nature at present. I should hope we might have a
meeting on Thursday for the Dutch business.[529]
The differences between Pitt and Carmarthen were greater than are here
represented; and the joint influence of the King and Pitt prevented the
adoption of the more spirited measures towards which he inclined. This
was gall and wormwood to Harris. That able envoy, looking on helplessly
at the brilliant diplomatic successes of France, failed to see the
canker which was eating at her heart. The Assembly of the Notables
was “the beginning of the end.” It implied the inability of the
absolute monarchy to carry the urgently needed reforms or to meet the
ordinary expenses of the State. Pitt saw this. Further, while Harris
admitted that he regarded France as “a natural enemy,” Pitt looked on
her as a possible friend. On the Dutch Question alone was there keen
rivalry between the two States; and, in view of the growing financial
difficulties of France, delay was more than ever advisable; for her
efforts abroad must slacken as her vitality lessened under the load
of debt that Calonne was gaily heaping up. In the meantime, until the
Prussian monarch had the will, and England had the power, to intervene,
Harris must continue his Sisyphus toil, and the Prince and Princess
must suffer further indignities. Such was Pitt’s policy. To our envoy
it seemed unbearably mean; but it won in the end, and all the more
surely for the delay. A Minister at the centre can often see things in
truer perspective than an ambassador who is, after all, only at one
point on the circumference.
Harris continued stoutly to roll the stone uphill. He helped to form
an Association of the Provinces, towns and persons opposed to any
change in the constitution; and, as the Stadholder in the early part of
1787 showed far more spirit and tact, the Patriots found it by no means
easy to push the stone backwards. Harris declared on 20th April 1787
that the popular indignation ran strongly against the Patriots, who had
not one-twentieth of the people on their side. This is incredible; but
it is quite certain that his activity and the less determined policy of
Montmorin, the successor of Vergennes at Versailles, put new heart into
the Stadholder’s party. Nevertheless, the Patriots carried the day at
Amsterdam by sheer audacity, and compelled the Regents, or magistrates,
to dismiss nine of their number. This act of violence, together with
the increasing activity of William V and the signs of wavering at
Versailles, led Harris to request an interview with Ministers at
Whitehall.[530] He also bore a letter of the Princess to George III,
which met with no favourable response.
A Cabinet meeting was held on 23rd May 1787, at which Harris was
present, and submitted his opinions to a full discussion. Ministers
met at Thurlow’s house for dinner; and he in due course launched
forth on the troubled sea of Dutch politics, stating at great length
the arguments against intervention, then tearing them to pieces, and
declaring even for war with France, if the need arose. Richmond, Master
of the Ordnance, called for maps, discussed the military situation, and
urged the need of speedy preparations. Pitt then admitted the immense
importance of preserving the independence of Holland, and of facing
war as a possible, but not probable, alternative; then, turning to
Harris, he pressed him to say which course involved the greater risk,
that of opposing France at once before she entirely dominated the Dutch
Netherlands, or that of awaiting the issue of her present efforts. He
also asked what kind of help the Orange party most needed. In reply
to this and to similar questions from Thurlow, Harris urged that
money should be supplied, especially to the Province of Guelderland;
he declared that the supporters of the constitution would probably
be overborne if they were not helped by England; that France was not
in such a condition as to go to war in order to conquer Holland, but
that when she had the upper hand there she probably would throw
down the gauntlet. Stafford then declared in favour of intervention.
Nevertheless, Pitt held firmly to his conviction, that no case was
yet made out for a course of conduct which might possibly lead to war
and so blight the budding prosperity of Great Britain. Carmarthen and
Sydney did not speak. We may plausibly conjecture that the silence of
the Foreign Minister betokened his disapproval of Pitt’s views and his
inability to controvert them.
So far as we can judge, Pitt alone was for complete neutrality.
Nevertheless, his view prevailed. An interview which Harris had with
him on the morrow did not change his sentiments; but, on 26th May, the
Cabinet agreed to allow our envoy the sum of £20,000 so as to enable
the loyal provinces to take into their pay the troops which had been
disbanded by, or had deserted from, the forces of the Province of
Holland.[531] On 10th June the further sum of £70,000 was advanced.[532]
Pitt’s resolve was doubtless based on the difficulty of gaining an
ally, for, as we have seen, the King of Prussia had recently refused
the request of his sister for a loan of cannon and was proposing to
concert plans with France for a joint mediation in Dutch affairs.[533]
How was it possible for England alone to interfere for the Prince and
Princess of Orange while their natural protector was making advances to
their enemy? So little hope was there at present of aid from Prussia
that on 12th June Carmarthen expressed to Harris his belief that the
Orange party would get more help from the Emperor Joseph than from
Frederick William. The torpor of that party was another depressing
symptom. Time after time Carmarthen informed Harris that if the
Prince’s supporters desired help, they must bestir themselves: they had
as yet the majority of the regular army and of the States-General on
their side; and a fit use of this strength would save the situation.
Despite the efforts of Harris, the Patriots continued to gain ground.
At the end of May their partisans wrecked the houses of the Prince’s
friends at Amsterdam, and crushed the reaction in his favour which
had gathered head.[534] On 15th June the States-General decided, on
the casting vote of the President, to admit the deputies sent by the
illegal Estates of the city of Utrecht. This gave a bare majority to
the Patriots, who then proceeded to deprive the Stadholder of the right
to order the march of troops or the distribution of stores in the
provinces outside Holland. Four days later, however, Harris was able
to procure the rejection of this decree as illegal; and it was further
decided that the Estates of Utrecht meeting at Amersfoort were the
legal Estates of that province and could alone send deputies. Of course
this change of front has been ascribed to English gold, and certainly
it was due to Harris. This rebuff to the Patriots and the coyness of
the French Court to their urgent demands for help may have led to the
formation of a resolve which was to end the balancings of statesmen and
the even pulls of parties. The solution of the Dutch problem was, in
the first instance, due to a woman’s wit.
* * * * *
About the middle of the month of June 1787, the Princess of Orange
framed a plan for leaving her city of refuge, Nymeguen, and proceeding
to The Hague with the aim of inspiring her crestfallen partisans.
Hitherto the Orange party had shown the torpor which is the outcome of
poor leadership. Of the Prince of Orange it might have been said, as it
was said of Louis XVI, that he cooled his friends and heated his foes;
but his consort had the fire and energy which he lacked. Harris once
confessed that her frank, blue eyes could be “dangerous”; and in many
ways her presence promised to breathe new life into her party.
As the journey to The Hague would involve some risk of insult from
the Free Corps which formed a cordon on the frontier of the Province
of Holland, she proceeded first to Amersfoort, where her consort was
holding together his partisans in the Province of Utrecht, in order
to gain his consent to this daring step. Thereafter she warned Harris
and her chief friends at The Hague of her resolve, and asked their
sanction, adding that the magnitude of the object at stake impelled her
to run some measure of personal risk in order to compass it. Harris
saw objections to the plan, but yielded to the representations of the
Dutchmen. He, however, stated to Carmarthen his doubts whether she
could make her way through the bodies of armed burghers, and asked his
chief for instructions as to his course of action in case any violence
were offered to Her Royal Highness.[535]
His apprehensions were in part to be realized. The princess set out
from Nymeguen on 28th June with the ordinary retinue. While seeking
to enter the Province of Holland near Schoonhoven, she was stopped by
a lieutenant commanding a body of Free Corps, who refused to allow
her to proceed; his action was endorsed by the authorities; and she
was obliged, though without much personal indignity, to put up at the
nearest house where the lieutenant kept her and her ladies-in-waiting
under close and embarrassing surveillance, until she consented that the
question of her journey should be decided by the Estates of Holland.
Then she was allowed to return to Schoonhoven, where she indited
letters to the Grand Pensionary and others, declaring that her sole
aim was to promote a reconciliation. The Estates of Holland refused to
allow her to proceed, and she had finally to return to Nymeguen. This
insult to royalty sent a thrill of indignation through every Court but
that of Versailles.
Before describing the political results of the incident, we may pause
to ask whether the plan of the Princess’s journey was the outcome of
the fertile brain of Harris. That was the insinuation of the French
Foreign Minister, Montmorin, and it has often been repeated.[536] The
charge has never been proven; and the following reasons may be urged
against it. Harris certainly hoped to profit by her presence at The
Hague, but obviously he doubted the possibility of her entering the
province. Further, on 29th June, when he heard of her detention, he
wrote to Carmarthen: “The event which has happened oversets our whole
plan. Check to the queen, and in a move or two checkmate is, I fear,
the state of our game.” Not yet did he see that the check might be
worth a Prussian army to the Orange party. All he saw was the present
discouragement of that party, and the timidity of the States-General
of the United Provinces, who now refused to censure the outrage.
Carmarthen saw more clearly. “Don’t be so disheartened by a check to
the queen,” he replied. “Cover her by the knight and all’s safe.... If
the King, her brother, is not the dirtiest and shabbiest of Kings, he
must resent it.”[537]
But had the Princess throughout laid her plans with a view to such an
event? In this connection it is significant that Frederick William
of Prussia had latterly shown great irritation against the Court of
Versailles owing to its summary rejection of his offer of a joint
mediation in the Dutch troubles. Montmorin curtly declined every one
of the preliminary terms which Hertzberg had succeeded in appending to
that proposal. He also blamed the Stadholder for all the ferment, and
stated that, if the Prussian monarch intervened in favour of the Orange
party, he would “only compromise himself to his entire loss.”[538] This
nagging reply to a friendly overture cut the sensitive monarch to the
quick; he sent a spirited remonstrance, declaimed against the bad faith
of the French Government, and stated that he meant now to complete his
own plans in Holland, that he hoped to have the support of England,
and might draw the sword sooner than was expected.[539] Ewart expected
little result from all this; but he was mistaken. Frederick William was
a man of sentiment; and the appeal which now came from Holland was one
that stirred his being to its depths.
The Princess, on hearing of his resentment against France, seems to
have devised a course of action which would be likely to make this
mood lasting. Harris reported on 22nd June that on the day before, “in
consequence of a courier from Berlin, the Princess of Orange, a few
hours after he arrived, left Nymeguen and set out for Amersfoort. She
had time to write to nobody, and the cause of this sudden departure is
not to be guessed at.”[540] The short journey to Amersfoort was for the
purpose described above. That the Princess was acting in close concert
with her brother, and that Harris knew nothing as to the motives of her
conduct further appear in statements which (strange to say) are omitted
from his despatch of 25th June, printed in the “Diaries.” He informed
Carmarthen that she was sending a courier to Berlin, and that the
present plan “completely does away all the ideas which have been very
prevalent here for these three or four days, that His Prussian Majesty
was so irritated at the late answer from France as to be decided to
assist the Prince of Orange with men and money.” Obviously the guile
of Sir James Harris was of the diplomatic, not of the feminine, kind.
Further, the fact that the Princess travelled with a retinue made it
almost certain that she would be stopped by the cordon of Free Corps
on the frontier of Holland. If her chief aim had been to arrive at The
Hague, she would have gone in disguise; for only so could she hope to
pass through the troops. Her chief aim surely was to be stopped; and
the more contumeliously, the better for her purpose.
Her letters written after the incident show that she desired to reap
the full advantage from it. On 6th July Harris reported her expectation
that, if England proposed to Prussia a plan for rescuing the Republic
from France, it would be well received at Berlin; and that she grounded
her confidence in the reports of those who knew the King of Prussia
well. Ewart also on 10th July stated that she had written to Berlin in
terms implying that the honour of the King was at stake fully as much
as her own.[541] With these proofs of the discouragement of Harris,
and of the keen insight of the Princess before us, may we not infer
that she deliberately chose to submit herself to an insult from the
Patriots in order to clinch a resolve which she knew to be forming in
her brother’s mind? His anger against France might then be fanned to a
flame of resentment fed by injured family pride.
Fortunately for her purpose, the Estates of Holland waived aside the
demand of the King of Prussia for immediate and complete satisfaction
for the insult; and Frederick William vowed that he would exact
vengeance at the sword’s point. Hertzberg now saw within his reach the
great aims which Ewart and he had so long pursued, an Anglo-Prussian
compact which might ripen into alliance. But it was a task of much
difficulty to stiffen that monarch’s wavering impulses. Hertzberg
rightly saw that English influence should not at first be pushed;[542]
and only when the King’s resentment at the insult began to cool, were
the wider questions of the future discreetly opened to his gaze.
Here again the situation was complicated; for Finckenstein worked on
his fears of an attack from Austria, if he intervened in Holland;
and Thulemeyer, the Prussian envoy at The Hague, darkened the royal
counsels by sending an official warning that Prussia must expect no
help from England, even if France struck at the Prussian expeditionary
corps. Ewart, however, was able to show that this report closely
resembled an earlier one from the same source. The only result, then,
was to discredit Thulemeyer and pave the way for his disgrace. When
further friendly assurances came from the Pitt Ministry, Frederick
William gave orders for the mustering of 25,000 troops at his fortress
of Wesel on the lower Rhine. Even now he was afflicted by the
irresolution which for so many years was to paralyze the power of his
kingdom; and it is doubtful whether he would have acted at all but for
the initiative now taken by the Prime Minister of England.[543]
Pitt’s change of attitude at this time is the decisive event of the
situation. At once, on hearing the news of the insult to the Princess
of Orange, he saw that the time for action had come. In a personal
interview with Count Lusi, Prussian ambassador at London, he pointed
out that this was a matter which solely concerned the Prussian monarch,
and in which France had no right to interfere.[544] George III spoke in
the same terms to Lusi at a _levée_. Further, on the receipt of Ewart’s
despatch of 7th July, reporting that Pitt had declared against any
intervention whatever by Great Britain, Carmarthen sent a sharp denial,
and stated that diplomatic support would have been offered earlier to
Prussia in Dutch affairs, but for the strange conduct of Thulemeyer at
The Hague. If that conduct did not represent the wishes of the Prussian
Government, His Majesty “will be extremely ready to enter into a most
confidential communication with His Prussian Majesty” on the means of
preserving the independence of the Dutch Republic and the rights of the
Stadholder. Carmarthen added the important information that Montmorin
had declared that France would not thwart the Prussian monarch’s
resolve to gain reparation for the insult. That question he declared
to be totally distinct from an interference in the domestic affairs of
the Republic, which might be settled amicably by a joint mediation of
the Powers most concerned in them, namely, the Emperor, Great Britain,
Prussia, and France. The draft of this important despatch closed with
this sentence, in Pitt’s handwriting: “Could such a good understanding
be agreed on, there can be little doubt that the affairs of Holland
would be settled in an amicable way, to the satisfaction of all those
who are interested in the welfare of the Republic.”[545]
It is clear, then, that Pitt meant to encourage Prussia to energetic
action, in case the Estates of Holland did not grant full reparation
for the insult; but he looked on that step merely as preliminary
to the others which would solve the whole question by a peaceful
mediation of the four Powers above named. On learning that the
Emperor had expressed his friendly interest in the Prince of Orange
and his approval of Prussia’s conduct, the Foreign Office sent off a
despatch to Keith, British Ambassador at Vienna, bidding him to urge
his active co-operation “and to make it, if possible, the means of
establishing a cordial and confidential correspondence with that Court
in future.”[546] Joseph II did not respond to this friendly proposal,
probably because of troubles lowering in the East. But the incident
proves the reluctance of our Foreign Office to act with Prussia alone,
and also its hopes of a peaceful mediation in Dutch affairs. According
to news received from Paris, France did not seem likely to oppose
Prussia’s action, and even favoured the scheme of a joint mediation of
the three Powers, which were then on cordial terms.[547]
In spite of the friendly assurances that came from London, and the
manly advice of Hertzberg, Frederick William continued to vacillate in
his usual manner. As we have seen, he had recently coquetted with the
notion of a mediation conjointly with France alone; but, despite its
curt rejection by the Court of Versailles, he now recurred to a similar
scheme.[548] If France had played her cards well, she might even then
have won the day at Berlin.
The conduct of the French Government at this crisis is hard to fathom.
Its swift and unaccountable changes may perhaps be explained by the
alternate triumph of peaceful and warlike counsels in the Ministry,
which in the month of August underwent some alterations. Towards Great
Britain the tone was at first quite reassuring, a fact which may be
ascribed to the friendly relations between Montmorin and Eden. Our
envoy had visited London in July, and therefore, on his return to Paris
at the end of the month, fully knew the intentions of his chiefs. Their
pacific nature appeared in a proposal, which he was charged to make
to Montmorin, for the discontinuance of warlike preparations on both
sides until such time as notice might be given for their renewal. On
4th August the French Minister cordially received this proposal,[549]
and it was acted on with sincerity until the crisis of the middle of
September. But Eden soon found that the French Court intended forcibly
to intervene if the Prussian troops entered the United Provinces, and
that Montmorin had rejected the recent proposal from Berlin for a
Franco-Prussian intervention.[550] Here, surely, the French Minister
committed a surprising blunder. The traditional friendship between
their Courts should have led him to welcome a proposal which would
have kept England entirely out of the question. Probably he counted
on procuring better terms from the ever complaisant Court of Berlin.
If so, he erred egregiously. By repelling the advances of Prussia, he
threw that Power into the arms of Great Britain; and Pitt was shrewd
enough to accord a hearty welcome.