CHAPTER XXI

THE SCHEMES OF CATHARINE II

I came to Russia poor; but I will not die in debt to the

Empire; for I shall leave her the Crimea and Poland as my

portion.--CATHARINE II.

In the spring of the year 1787 the ablest potentate in Europe set

out on a State progress to the newly annexed provinces in the South

of her Empire. It was carried out with an energy and splendour which

illustrated the union of the forethought of the West with the barbaric

splendour of the East. A great flotilla of galleys bore the Sovereign,

her chief courtiers, the ambassadors of Great Britain, Austria, and

France, and numerous attendants down the course of the Dnieper to

the city of Kherson near its mouth. By day the banks were fringed

with throngs of the peasants of Little Russia, brought up to order,

while ever and anon the shouts of Cossacks, Calmucks, and Circassians

impressed the beholders with a sense of the boundless resources of

that realm. By night the welkin flared with illuminations; and the

extent of the resting-places, which had arisen like exhalations at the

bidding of her favourite, Prince Potemkin, promised the speedy inroad

of civilization into the lands over which the Turk still held sway. In

truth, far more impressive to the mind’s eye was the imperious will

of which these marvels were the manifestation, the will of Catharine

II.[782]

At her invitation there joined her near Potemkin’s creation, the

city of Ekaterinoslav, another monarch of romantic and adventurous

character. Joseph II of Austria, head of the Holy Roman Empire, now

reluctantly turned towards the eastern conquests to which she had

long beckoned him. Together they proceeded on the progress southwards

to Kherson, which they entered under a triumphal arch bearing the

inscription in Greek, “The way to Byzantium.” A still more impressive

proof of the activity of her masterful favourite awaited them. Potemkin

had pushed on the work of the new dockyard at Kherson; and as a result

they witnessed the launch of three warships. The largest, of 80 guns,

was christened by Catharine herself, “Joseph II.”[783]

Thence the imperial procession wended its way to the much-prized

acquisition, the Crimea. In that Tartar Khanate the fertile brain

and forceful personality of Potemkin had wrought wonders. It was but

four years since the Empress, in her joy at the annexation of that

vantage-ground, had pointed on the map to the little township of

Akhtiar, re-named it Sevastopol, and ordered the construction of a

dockyard and navy. Now, in June 1787, as the allied sovereigns topped

the hills which command that port, the Hapsburg ruler uttered a cry of

surprise and admiration. For there below lay a squadron of warships,

ready, as it seemed, to set sail and plant the cross on the dome of St.

Sophia at Constantinople.

Hitherto Joseph II had not shown the amount of zeal befitting an ally

and an admirer. True, he had not openly belied the terms of the compact

of the year 1781, which had been his sheet-anchor amid the storms of

his reign. But that alliance had been the prelude to vast schemes

productive at once of longing and distrust. They aimed at nothing less

than the partition of the Ottoman Empire in Europe. The glorious days

of Prince Eugène were to be recalled, and, on the expulsion of the

Tartar horde over the Bosphorus, Austria was to acquire the Turkish

lands which that warrior had gained for her by the Peace of Passarowitz

(1718), namely, the Banat of Temesvar, the northern half of Servia, and

the districts of Wallachia as far as the River Aluta. The only direct

gain to Catharine was to be the Tartar territory north of the Black Sea

as far as the Dniester. As for Moldavia and Wallachia, they were to

form an independent kingdom under a Christian Prince (a plan finally

realized in 1858); and the remainder of the Balkan Peninsula was to be

ruled by the favourite grandson of the Empress, Prince Constantine.

Outwardly this partition seemed to offer a fair share to Austria. But

it was soon clear that the grasping genius of Muscovy would transform

the nominally independent kingdoms of Constantinople and Roumania into

feudatories and bar to Austria the way to the Lower Danube, the Aegean,

and the Lower Adriatic. Not yet were the lessons of the first partition

of Poland forgotten at Vienna.[784] Then, too, the Austro-Russian

compact had but slightly advanced the interests of Joseph II in

Germany. Catharine had done little to further his pet scheme of the

Belgic-Bavarian Exchange; and, apart from feminine fumings, she had not

seriously counteracted the formation of the League of German Princes

whereby Frederick the Great had thwarted that almost revolutionary

proposal (1785). Probably this accounts for the reluctance of Joseph

to give rein to the southward impulses of the Czarina in that year.

At its close Sir Robert Murray Keith, British Ambassador at Vienna,

reported that the Czarina’s tour to Kherson was postponed, and four

days later he recorded a remarkable conversation in the course of

which the Emperor revealed his dislike of the dangerous schemes then

mooted for the partition of the Turkish Empire. “I can tell you for

certain,” he said, “_que si jamais tous les coquins se rompent avec

l’Empire Ottoman_, France is firmly determined to strike a bold stroke

by making herself mistress of Egypt. This I know with certainty from

more quarters than one; and M. Tott himself told me at Paris that he

had travelled through all Egypt by order of his Court to explore that

country in a military light and to lay down a plan for the conquest of

it.”[785]

In these words we have probably the reason for the deferring of the

Russian schemes against Turkey. They are also noteworthy, as they must

have tended to deepen the distrust which Pitt and Carmarthen felt

for France. Her chief Minister, Vergennes, figured as the protector

of Turkey against Russia, recalling thereby the policy of Louis XV’s

reign, which in 1739 availed to tear away from Austria the conquests

of Prince Eugène and restore them to the Sublime Porte. But under this

show of championship there seems to have lain an alternative policy,

that of furthering the partition of Turkey, provided that France

acquired Egypt, and some other vantage posts in the Levant. As we have

already seen, France was busy in Egypt and the Orient with schemes

which probably would have startled the world had she rivetted her hold

on the Dutch Netherlands in the year 1787.

The accession of the facile and dissolute Frederick William to the

Prussian throne in 1786, and the preoccupation of England and France in

the Dutch crisis which followed, now left Joseph free to comply with

the request of the Czarina that he would join her in the journey to the

Crimea. After long hesitations he reluctantly gave his assent. His aged

Chancellor, Prince Kaunitz, the champion of the connection with Russia

and France, advised him to direct the imperial conferences towards the

Bavarian Exchange and the dissolution of the Fürstenbund. Catharine

willed otherwise. Under her influence the views of Joseph underwent a

notable orientation. He came back to Vienna virtually pledged to a war

for the partition of Turkey.

The change in Joseph’s policy was a tribute to the potency of the

Czarina’s will. In her personality, as we have already seen, there were

singular powers of fascination and command. Her vivacity and charm,

varied by moods of petulance or fury, made up a character feminine in

its impulsiveness and of masculine strength. The erstwhile Princess of

Anhalt-Zerbst, who by a series of audacious intrigues, and probably by

the murder of her consort Peter III, had become the greatest autocrat

of the century, still retained the intellectual freshness of youth.

Her character and career present a series of bizarre contrasts. The

poverty of her upbringing, the dissolute adventures of her early life,

and the outrageous crimes of her womanhood would have utterly tainted

a personality less remarkable and attractive. But in the loose society

of St. Petersburg it had long been customary to gloze over lapses of

virtue by easy descriptions, like that which the stately rhetoric of

Burke applied to the chivalry of Versailles, that “vice itself lost

half its evil by losing all its grossness.”

Certainly the intellectual keenness and social witcheries of the

sorceress threw a charm over her rout. French and German philosophers

praised her learning and wit, but innate shrewdness kept her from more

than a passing dalliance with the unsettling theories which were to

work havoc in France. Here as in her amours she observed some measure

of worldly prudence; so that no favourite could count on a long reign

of pillage. Thus, whether by whim or by design, she kept devotion and

hope ever on the stretch; and one might almost apply to her, even at

the age of fifty-nine, Shakespeare’s description of Cleopatra:

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale

Her infinite variety; other women cloy

The appetites they feed; but she makes hungry

Where most she satisfies.

Like the “serpent of old Nile,” Catharine had many weaknesses; and they

might have worked her ruin in the more strenuous age which followed;

but fortune brought her to the front at a time when Frederick the Great

desired the friendship of Russia, and when Hapsburg policy vacillated

between the conservatism of Maria Theresa and the viewiness of her son

Joseph. Thus the Czarina could work her will on the decaying Powers,

Turkey and Poland, and raised the prestige of her Empire to unimagined

heights.

A few shrewd observers were not dazzled by this splendour. Sir James

Harris, who went as British envoy to Russia in 1778 to cultivate the

friendship, and if possible the alliance, of Catharine, rightly probed

the inner weakness of her position. It lay in the suddenness of her

rise, the barbarousness of her people, the unblushing peculations

of Ministers and officials, and the shiftiness of Muscovite policy.

This last defect he traced to the peculiarities of the Empress

herself, which he thus summed up: “She has a masculine force of mind,

obstinacy in adhering to a plan, and intrepidity in the execution of

it; but she wants the more manly virtues of deliberation, forbearance

in prosperity, and accuracy of judgment, while she possesses in a

high degree the weaknesses vulgarly attributed to her sex--love of

flattery and its inseparable companion, vanity; [and] an inattention

to unpleasant but salutary advice.” Six years later he sharpened his

criticism and described her as led by her passions, not by reason

and argument; her prejudices, though easily formed, were immovable;

her good opinion was liable to constant fluctuations and whims; and

her resolves might carry her to any lengths.[786] Such, too, was the

opinion of the Comte de Ségur, the French ambassador, who wrote about

the Turkish schemes renewed in 1787: “We are so accustomed to see

Russia throw herself offhand into the most risky affairs, and Fortune

has so persistently helped her, that there is no accounting for the

actions of this Power on the rules of a scientific policy.”[787]

This peculiarity was far from repelling Joseph II. While pluming

himself on the application of reason to politics, that crowned

philosopher forgot to take counsel of her twin-sister, prudence. On

his polyglot Empire, which already felt the first stirrings of the

principle of nationality, he imposed centralizing laws, agrarian,

social, and religious, which speedily aroused the hostility of those

whom he meant to uplift. Along with all this he pushed on schemes which

unsettled Germany, Belgium, and Poland; and now, as if all this were

not enough, he was drawn into the vortex of the Turkish enterprises of

Catharine.

It is a mistake to assume that Joseph had no practical aims in view. He

hoped to acquire from Turkey territories which would open up trade on

the Adriatic and the Lower Danube, and he counted on strengthening the

Russian alliance to which he trusted for the furtherance of his aims

in Germany and Belgium. Yet rarely has a monarch formed a resolution

more fraught with peril. In truth it resulted from the mastery gained

by an abler and more determined nature over one that was generous

but ill-compacted, daring but unsteady. Had the Emperor surveyed the

situation with care, he must have seen that it favoured Catharine

rather than himself. She was beset by no troubles at home; while his

lands, especially the _Pays Bas_, heaved with disloyal excitement. She

had appeased the Turcophile feelings of France by granting a favourable

commercial treaty; and Montmorin, the successor of Vergennes, was

weaker in himself and less able to support the Sultan. In short,

Catharine had her hands free, while Joseph had them full.[788]

The alliance between Russia and Poland at this time acquired new

vitality. During her triumphal tour Catharine received the homage of

her former lover, Stanislaus, King of Poland, and received from him

the promise of the help of 100,000 Polish troops for the Turkish war,

and “likewise for any other contest”--a phrase aimed against Prussia,

if she dared to intervene. The value of the promise soon became open

to doubt. The monarch in Poland had long been a figure-head, while

the real power lay with the powerful and ambitious nobility, which,

under the lead of the Czartoryski and Potocki families, ever chafed at

Muscovite ascendancy, and now declined to help Catharine in humbling

their natural ally, the Sultan. In 1790 their views were to prevail;

but, for the present, the resources of Poland seemed at her beck and

call.

The prospects of Catharine therefore were brilliant in the extreme. But

for once Fortune played her false. After the departure of the Emperor

from the Crimea, and while she still fondly surveyed the warlike

preparations at its new dockyard, there came news of the alarming

prospects for the harvest in Russia. “The Empress,” wrote Fitzherbert

on 24th July, “almost immediately after leaving the Crimea fell under

a great and visible depression of spirits, accompanied at times with

violent gusts of ill humour; and in this state remained with very

little intermission till our arrival here [Czarko-zelo].” He ascribed

these moody humours to the failure of the corn crop, which necessitated

the immediate purchase of 5,000,000 roubles’ worth of foreign grain,

and the distribution of Potemkin’s army in widespread cantonments.

To wage a great campaign while bread stood at famine prices was

impossible. In this predicament the Empress decided to hide her

retirement by a parade of diplomatic bluster. She despatched to

Constantinople a special envoy, Bulgakoff, to lay claim to the

Principality of Georgia, and to submit this and other matters in

dispute to the mediation of France and Austria. The move was dexterous;

but in such a case the success of a game of bluff depends on the

adversary not perceiving the weakness of which it is the screen. Now,

the Sublime Porte, though usually inert, divined the secret, and

resolved to withstand these endless affronts. During thirteen years

orthodox Moslems had writhed under the humiliations of the Treaty of

Kainardji (1774), which acknowledged the complete independence of the

Tartar Khans of the Crimea and the Kuban valley, and in vague terms

admitted the Czarina to be the protectress of the Christian subjects of

the Porte. In 1783, thanks to Austrian support, Catharine seized the

Crimea; and now she laid claim to Georgia. The cup of humiliation was

full; and the pride of Moslems scorned to drink it.

The despatches of Sir Robert Ainslie, British ambassador at

Constantinople, show clearly enough the motives that prompted that

Government to strike an unexpected blow. On 25th June 1787 he reported

to Carmarthen that the Porte looked on the journey of the Czarina and

her warlike preparations as designed to wear out the patience and the

resources of the Turks, who already were said to have 240,000 men ready

near the Danube, and others in Asia. If, he added, she did not explain

her present conduct, “I am afraid they will commence hostilities,” and

“strike a home blow in the Crimea.” On 10th July he stated that there

could be no solid peace so long as Russia held the Crimea in defiance

of the Treaty of Kainardji. “The honour of the Sultan, the security of

this Empire, the interest of the Mahometan religion, and those [_sic_]

of justice all require that ... the independence of the Crimea should

be re-established. It is true, the Porte agreed to the cession; but

that act, torn from her weakness, was involuntary and unjust. In short,

it can only be binding until a good opportunity offers to cancel its

effect. This, my Lord, seems the opinion of the Cabinet and the motive

of their extensive preparations, but they are diffident of success and

afraid to attack unless Russia herself furnishes pretext.” He adds that

the Turkish Ministers believed Bulgakoff’s mission to be designed to

“spin out the summer”; but that the Turkish levies could scarcely be

kept together.[789]

As for the temporizing offers of mediation from France and Austria,

the Porte would have none of them, and refused to accept any in which

Great Britain had no share. The Grand Vizier cherished the hope that

Austria and Russia were not really united by treaty, and seemed to

desire, rather than to avoid, a rupture. On 30th July the Reis Effendi

asked our ambassador what England would do in case of a Russo-Turkish

War. Ainslie replied that she would “keep strict neutrality,” and

strongly urged the need of peace. “Never will we purchase peace on the

dishonourable terms held out by Russia,” replied the Turkish Minister,

and he added with oriental subtlety that, unless she gave way, war

must come “before many months are elapsed.” Ainslie thought that this

portended war in the spring of 1788.[790]

But on 16th August the Sultan struck swiftly and hard. Doubtless

he had heard news of the famine in Russia and the dispersion of

Potemkin’s forces. It was clear that for a time the would-be aggressor

was reduced to the defensive. Was it not well, then, to deliver the

blow rather than wait for it to fall in the next year, and perhaps

from both Austria and Russia? True, the Turks were not ready--they

never were so. But their recent successes over the Mameluke Beys in

Egypt and the rebellious Mahmoud Pacha in Albania emboldened them to

take a step which completely surprised all the Cabinets of Europe. On

16th August, after a long conference with the Grand Vizier, Bulgakoff

and five members of his suite were apprehended and marched off to

the Seven Towers, there to be kept in close custody. This was the

Turkish way of declaring war to the knife. The Porte defended it on

the ground of outrages to its flag at Kinburn and Sevastopol;[791] but

the incident added rancour to the hatred of Catharine, and she swore

to glut her revenge upon the insolent infidels. Her rage was all the

greater because for once she was outwitted. Fitzherbert, on hearing of

the novel declaration of war by the Turks, stated to Carmarthen[792]

that it must have upset all her calculations, for he knew that the

blustering language used by Bulgakoff “was in fact intended to produce

the contrary effect.”[793]

* * * * *

These events were destined potently to influence the career of Pitt.

In one respect they affect his reputation; for Catharine in her fury

accused him of inciting the Turks to attack her.[794] The charge

was not unnatural. She had long shown her spleen against England

in bitter words and hostile deeds. More than once she thrust aside

Pitt’s overtures for an alliance; and she rejected his proposals for

a commercial treaty while she granted that boon to France (January

1787). Further, the outbreak of war in the East came very opportunely

for Great Britain and Prussia at the crisis of the Dutch embroglio and

enabled the Court of Berlin confidently to launch its troops against

the Patriots in Holland. The tilt given from Constantinople to the

delicately poised kaleidoscope of diplomacy had startling results. The

mobile Powers--Russia, Austria, and France--were fixed fast, while the

hitherto stationary States, Prussia and England, were set free for

swift action.

Nevertheless it is untrue that the tilt came from Pitt and Carmarthen.

They still clung to the traditional British policy of befriending

Russia, which Fox had enthusiastically supported. Our Government

instructed Fraser at St. Petersburg to express regret at the outbreak

of war and to offer, conjointly with Prussia, our good services for the

restoration of peace. Pitt also informed Vorontzoff, Russian ambassador

in London, of his desire for a good understanding with Russia, and

stated that he would not oppose acquisitions of Turkish territory. All

the evidence tends to prove that he strove to prevent hostilities,

which must upset the existing order in the East and probably end in

a general war. As the concern of Prussia was equally great (it being

certain by the end of 1787 that Austria would join in the war) the two

Protestant Powers drew together for joint action though not, as yet,

for actual alliance.[795]

In fact, we find here the reason of the coyness of Pitt in framing that

compact. He still preferred to have Russia, rather than Prussia, as an

ally. But his advances to Catharine ended with the impossible retort

that he must recall Ainslie from Constantinople. Nevertheless it was

not till the middle of March 1788 that Pitt took a step displeasing

to her by forbidding her agents to hire Russian transports in

England.[796] The Empress showed her annoyance at these strict notions

of neutrality by publicly receiving the famous American privateer, Paul

Jones.[797]

Pitt’s attitude towards Austria was at first equally friendly. On

14th September 1787 Carmarthen sent to Vienna assurances that the

Russo-Turkish War would make no difference to the friendship of George

III for Austria, and that we should maintain “the determined system

of this country to contribute as far as possible to the continuance

of the public tranquillity, or to its speedy restoration if unhappily

it should be interrupted.” By these and other proposals Pitt and

Carmarthen vainly sought to detach Austria from Russia, and also to

conjure away the spectre of a Triple Alliance between France, Russia,

and Austria, which long haunted the courts of Whitehall. Early in

1788, that ghost was laid by the Austrian attack upon the Turks, which

France had striven to avert, and Pitt felt free to accept the proffered

alliance of Prussia which, as we saw in Chapter XVI, finally came about

in August 1788.[798]

The campaign of that year is devoid of interest. Scarcity of bread on

the Russian side and the usual unpreparedness of the Turks clogged

the operations, which led to a sharp conflict only at one point. The

fortress of Kinburn, recently acquired by the Russians, commanded the

estuary formed by the converging Rivers Dnieper and Bug. It stood

opposite the Turkish fortress, Oczakoff, which was deemed the chief

bulwark of the Ottomans in the East. Early in October 1788 they made

an attempt to seize Kinburn as a prelude to the hoped-for conquest of

the Crimea. But in that fortress was a wizened little veteran, who ate

bread with the soldiers, startled them at dawn by his cock crows, and

summarized his ideas on tactics by the inspiriting words: “At them with

the cold steel.” The personality of Suvóroff was worth an army corps,

for it was bound up with triumph. He now waited within the walls of

Kinburn until the Turkish fleet landed 5,000 choice Janissaries below

the town. Then by a furious sally, flanked by a charge of ten squadrons

of horse on the wings, he broke up that fanatical band and drove it

into the sea. Only 700 Turks survived. The affair was not of the first

importance, but it heartened the Russians for the greater enterprises

of the next year.

Meanwhile Catharine, fuming at the sorry beginning of her war of

conquest, upbraided her ally with his tardiness in coming to her help.

But Joseph was in a difficult situation. The ferment in the Netherlands

and Hungary was increasing. The close union of England and Prussia

in Dutch affairs caused him much concern; and, as we have seen in

Chapter XIV, the French Ministry was fain to huddle up the disputes in

Holland, partly in order to be free to support the Sultan. Montmorin

resolved to thwart the partition of the Turkish Empire and brought

pressure to bear upon Kaunitz, who ever looked askance on oriental

adventures.[799] Nevertheless, by the month of November Joseph had

decided on war. The Austrians made a discreditable attempt to surprise

Belgrade; and in February 1788 war was declared.

The ensuing campaign was fertile in surprises. As often happens, the

Allies waited for one another to start the campaign, and thus lost the

early part of the summer. The Russians, owing to the armament of the

Swedes and the incapacity of Potemkin, did far less than was expected;

and the brunt of the Ottoman onset finally fell upon the Austrians.

Joseph was compelled to fall back towards Temesvar on the night of

20th September; and a panic seized the Imperialists. That motley host,

mistaking the shouts of its diverse races for the war cry of the Turks,

fired wildly upon the supposed pursuers; and the Ottomans, hearing

the babel din, finally pressed on the rout and captured 4,000 men and

a large part of the artillery and stores. Pestilence completed the

work begun by the Moslems; and thus it came about that the efforts of

200,000 Austrians effected nothing more than the surrender of Chotzim

and three other frontier strongholds of the second rank. The disgrace

dimmed the lustre of their arms, undermined the health of the Emperor,

and gave new heart to Hertzberg and the numerous enemies of the

Hapsburg realm.

* * * * *

The chief cause of this ignominious failure is ultimately traceable to

an influence that had long been at work far away, namely, the restless

ambition of Gustavus III of Sweden. In the summer of the year 1788 that

monarch suddenly drew the sword against Catharine, and from the vantage

ground of his Finnish province marched towards St. Petersburg. This

threatening move compelled the Empress to recall part of her forces,

condemned the rest of them to the defensive, and thus exposed the

Austrians to the spirited attack above described.

Seeing that Pitt was held to be ultimately responsible for these

events, we must pause here to sketch the character and career of

Gustavus III. Of the three monarchs dealt with in this chapter he

is not the least interesting. Rivalling Catharine in intellectual

keenness and moody waywardness, he excelled her in generosity, virtue,

and chivalry. There is in him the strain of romance which refines

the schemes, and adds pathos to the failures, of Joseph II; but the

Swede excelled the Hapsburg alike in grit, fighting power, charm, and

versatility. He was a bundle of startling opposites. Slight of figure,

naturally delicate and pensive, he threw himself eagerly into feats

of daring and hardihood. By turns poet and humourist, playwright and

warrior, devout but an incorrigible intriguer, he lured, enthralled,

browbeat, or outwitted the Swedish people as no one had done since

the days of Charles XII. In truth he seemed a re-incarnation of that

ill-starred ruler, especially in his power of calling forth the utmost

from his people, and leading them on to feats beyond their strength.

From the midsummer day of 1771 on which the young King opened his

Estates with a speech from the throne, it was clear that his iron will

and captivating address might regain for the Crown the power torn from

it some years before by the Caps, the faction of the opposing nobles

and burghers. Fourteen months later Gustavus struck his blow. Despite

the Russian gold poured in for the support of the Caps, the King gained

the people and the army to his side, locked the recalcitrant Senate

in their Chamber, overthrew the usurped authority of the Riksdag,

and thenceforth governed in the interests of his people. It was

characteristic of him that he prefaced his _coup d’état_ by the first

performance of a Swedish opera, the libretto of which he had himself

revised.[800]

Thenceforth “the royal charmer” governed at will, and Sweden regained

much of her old prestige. The traditional alliance with France was

renewed; and for a time the jealous Catharine seemed to acquiesce in

the new order of things at Stockholm. In reality she never ceased to

intrigue there, as also at Warsaw, seeking to recall the days of schism

and weakness. The extravagance of Gustavus played into her hands.

Little by little the factions regained lost ground; the Riksdag of 1786

threw out all but one of the royal measures; and the King was fain to

govern more absolutely.

The Russo-Turkish War now gave him the chance for which his restless

spirit longed, namely, to attempt to recover part at least of

the trans-Baltic lands ceded to Russia, and to dissolve a secret

Russo-Danish alliance which aimed at the overthrow of the present

_régime_ in Sweden. He therefore allied himself with the Sultan on

condition of receiving a yearly subsidy of 1,000,000 piastres. He

further sounded the Courts of Berlin, Warsaw, and Paris, but received

no encouragement. At London, as we have seen, his overtures at

Christmas 1787 were set aside. They were renewed in the spring of 1788,

and received more attention, it being then the aim of Pitt to bring

some of the secondary States into the projected Triple Alliance. But

the ardent spirit of Gustavus far outleaped the mark. His demands for

money were suspiciously large. “Sweden,” so Carmarthen wrote to Harris

on 20th June 1788, “has a most voracious appetite for subsidies, but

from the enormous extravagance of her demand has put it out of our

power to proceed further at present on that head.”[801]

This was fortunate; for Gustavus was then preparing to throw down the

gauntlet to Russia. Early in July he set sail for Helsingfors, and

launched at Catharine a furious ultimatum, bidding her cede Carelia and

Livonia to the Swedes, and restore the Crimea to the Sultan. On the

receipt of that astonishing missive the imperial virago raged, wept,

and swore by turns. The crisis was indeed serious. In and near St.

Petersburg were only 6,000 troops.

Nevertheless she acted with her wonted vigour. She called up the

Militia; and her fleet, commanded by Admiral Greig and officered

largely by Britons, prepared to dispute with Gustavus the mastery

of the Gulf of Finland.[802] In this it succeeded. It dealt the

smaller naval force of the Swedes a severe check, and soon cooped

it up in Sveaborg. Meanwhile the advance of the Swedes from their

Finnish province on the Russian capital was stopped by a mutiny of

the officers, which soon spread to the rank and file. The causes of

this event are still obscure. The admirers of Gustavus ascribed it to

the factiousness of nobles and the bribes of Catharine. The Swedish

Opposition, and also Charles Keene, British envoy at Stockholm,

explained it as the natural outcome of the extravagance and ambition

of the monarch who, not content with violating the constitution and

ruining the finances of his realm, wantonly plunged it into a struggle

for which he had not prepared. Consequently, when his ill-clad and

ill-fed militia found that the Russian raids into Finland were a myth,

and that the only enemies were royal ambition and famine, they at once

thwarted the former by constituting the army as a “confederation,” and

declaring their resolve for peace. If there must be war with Russia,

let it be declared legally by a freely elected Diet at Stockholm.[803]

The Swedish crews at Sveaborg, where food and warlike munitions were

alike wanting, partly joined in the movement; and the universality

of the discontent, which compelled Gustavus to return helplessly to

Stockholm, is perhaps sufficient proof that influences were at work

more widespread than party spirit and more potent than foreign gold.

However the fact may be explained, it is certain that the Swedes, when

almost within striking distance of the Russian capital, halted, sent

offers of an armistice, and then retreated into Finland. Catharine was

saved; but after the capture of Oczakoff from the Turks she vented her

spleen in one of her icily brilliant _mots_: “As Mr. Pitt wishes to

chase me from St. Petersburg, I hope he will allow me to take refuge at

Constantinople.”

It was natural for the Empress to suspect England and Prussia of

complicity in the Swedish enterprise; for she herself in a similar

case would have egged on Gustavus. But the evidence in the British

archives proves that neither George III nor Frederick William, Pitt

nor Hertzberg, had a hand in the matter. George III and Pitt loved

peace because it was economical. Through the spring and summer they

were trying to effect a pacification. On 16th May 1788 the Foreign

Office sent off a despatch to Ainslie urging him to co-operate with

Dietz, the Prussian Minister at the Porte, in order, if possible, to

pave the way for a joint mediation of England and Prussia with a view

to a pacification in the East; but he was to beware of entering into

other plans that the Court of Berlin might have in view, a hint against

the ambitious scheme of exchanges now forming in Hertzberg’s brain.

On Swedish affairs the despatch continued thus: “The Swedish armament

causes much speculation both in Russia and elsewhere: the avowed

purpose is the necessity of having a respectable force in that Kingdom

while Russia is fitting out so formidable a fleet.”[804] From this and

other signs it is clear that Pitt and Carmarthen, far from expecting

war in the Baltic, were intent on plans for stopping it on the Danube

and Black Sea.

As for Frederick William, he did not desire war in the North, because

it must curtail his pleasures; and Hertzberg, because peace would

leave him free to weave his plans more systematically. Ewart, our

active and zealous envoy at Berlin, who knew Hertzberg thoroughly,

informed Carmarthen on 19th June that Prussia was very cautious as to

forming any connection with Sweden.[805] Nine days later he reported

that Gustavus had made an alliance with Turkey, but probably would not

attack Catharine unless she sent a fleet from Cronstadt round to the

Mediterranean. On 25th July, after referring to the Swedish declaration

of war against Russia, he added that the Court of Stockholm hoped for

the support of Prussia only so far as to keep Denmark quiet. As for

himself, he had rebuked the Swedish envoy.[806]

In truth the action of Gustavus annoyed both England and Prussia.

They expressed to him their disapproval of his conduct in strong

terms. On 29th August Carmarthen wrote to Ewart censuring the action

of Gustavus, but adding that the Allies must intervene to stop the

war in the Baltic.[807] Pitt also, on hearing of the Danish armament,

resolved to save Gustavus from utter ruin. On 1st September he wrote

as follows to Grenville (not, be it noted, to Carmarthen): “We had

before written to Berlin with power to Ewart to send an offer of our

joint mediation if the King of Prussia agreed, and this seems now the

more necessary. Our intervention may prevent his [Gustavus] becoming

totally insignificant, or dependent upon Russia, and it seems to me

an essential point.”[808] Eight days later Carmarthen assured the

Prussian Court of his satisfaction that it would join in the proposed

mediation.[809]

The crisis was indeed most urgent. Catharine was thinking far less of

flitting to Constantinople than of ousting Gustavus from Stockholm. Her

treaty with Denmark contained secret clauses which bound that Court to

alliance with her in case of a Russo-Swedish war; and the young Prince

Royal of Denmark, though by marriage a nephew to Gustavus, was only too

eager for a campaign which promised to lead to the partition of the

Swedish kingdom. The excellent navy of the Danes, and their possession

of Norway, gave them great facilities for the invasion of the open

country near the important city of Gothenburg; and, that once taken,

they could easily master the South, and leave the factions at Stockholm

to complete their work.

Fortunately there was at Copenhagen one of the ablest of British

envoys. Hugh Elliot, brother of Sir Gilbert Elliot, was a man of spirit

and resource. His demeanour and habits of mind were as much those of

a soldier as of a diplomatist; and nature had endowed him with the

stately air and melodramatic arts which avail much at a crisis.[810]

For some time past he had suspected the ambitious views of the Prince

Royal of Denmark, who despite his minority, ruled the land through

the all-powerful Minister, Count Bernstorff. Their conduct was now

sinister. Ostensibly they regretted that their treaty with Russia

compelled them to attack Sweden, and welcomed Elliot’s suggestion

of British mediation as a means of preventing such a calamity.[811]

Possibly this was Bernstorff’s real conviction; for Elliot found out

later that the Russian party had sworn to ruin him unless he favoured a

warlike policy.

Certain it is that Bernstorff had instructed Schönborn, the Danish

envoy in London, to use honeyed words to Carmarthen, which virtually

invited England’s friendly mediation. In reply Carmarthen “told him

that the King lamented extremely the rupture which had taken place

between Russia and Sweden, and assured him of His Majesty’s earnest

desire to contribute as far as possible to the restoration of the

tranquillity of the North.” Carmarthen sent off a special messenger to

Elliot to enable him to propose immediately the mediation of England,

Prussia, and Holland between Denmark and Sweden.[812] Bernstorff

received this offer on 25th August in the friendliest manner, and

promised to check the warlike ardour of the Prince Royal. Four days

later Elliot had an interview with the Prince in the hope of refuting

the persistent rumours that England had incited both the Sultan and

the King of Sweden to attack Russia. The Prince accepted his denials,

but assured him that the Danes must fulfil their treaty obligations to

Russia.

This serious news led Pitt once again directly to intervene in

diplomatic affairs, and to draft the despatch of 9th September to

Elliot. He there stated that the instructions already sent off to him,

and to Ewart at Berlin, manifested the earnest desire of the British

Government for the ending of hostilities in the Baltic, “which might

be injurious to the balance of power in that part of the world.” He

deplored the aggressive intentions of the Danish Court, as being alike

opposed to its real interests and certain “to extend the mischiefs

of the present war in a manner which cannot fail to excite the most

serious attention, and to have a great effect on the conduct, of all

those Courts who are interested in the relative situation of the

different Powers of the Baltic.”[813]

Pitt, then, deeply regretted the outbreak of war in the North, but

none the less resolved to prevent the threatened dismemberment of

Sweden. The Prussian Court held even stronger views on the subject,

and expressed its indignation at the Danish inroad into Sweden “after

the repeated assurances given by the Danish Minister of pacific and

moderate dispositions.”[814] So keen was the annoyance at Berlin

that Frederick William resolved to draw up a Declaration that, if

Denmark attacked Gustavus, 16,000 Prussians would forthwith invade the

Danish Duchy of Holstein. Ewart at once informed Elliot of the entire

concurrence of Prussia with England, and thus enabled him to play a

daring game. On the evening of 17th September, acting on the advice

of Ewart, he resolved to take boat for the Swedish shore, and proceed

to the headquarters of Gustavus. The news which finally prompted

this decision was that the Swedish monarch had decided to accept the

proffered mediation not of the Allies, but of France.[815] Elliot

hoped to reverse this decision and to secure the triumph of British

and Prussian influence at the Swedish Court. He had not, it appears,

received Pitt’s despatch cited above, or even the special Instructions

sent a little earlier; but he knew enough to warrant his speaking in

lofty tones, which were destined to dash the hopes of Catharine and the

Prince Royal of Denmark.

We left Gustavus at Stockholm. There he did his best to quell the

discontent of the burghers; but it is probable that a Revolution

would have broken out but for the threat of a Danish invasion and the

impending loss of Gothenburg. The national danger tended to still the

strife of parties; and the King, commending his queen and children to

his people, rode away to Dalecarlia in order to arouse the loyal miners

and peasants of that region against the invaders. Though he harangued

them on the spot where Gustavus Vasa made his memorable appeals, their

response was doubtful; but, having raised a small band, he proceeded

towards the threatened city.[816]

On his way he met the British envoy at the town of Carlstadt. For

eleven days Elliot had searched for the King, and now found him without

troops, without attendants, and with a small following of ill-armed

peasants (29th September, 1788). Bitterly the monarch exclaimed that,

like James II, he must leave his kingdom, a victim to the ambition of

Russia, the treachery of Denmark, the factious treason of his nobles,

and his own mistakes. Thereupon Elliot replied: “Sire, give me your

Crown; I will return it to you with added lustre.” He then told him of

the offer of mediation by England and Prussia on his behalf. At first,

mindful of his engagements to France, Gustavus hesitated to accept

it. Had he known that Elliot was acting without official instructions

he might have slighted the offer. In truth, Elliot was acting only

on the general direction, that he was “to prevent by every means any

change in the relative situation of the Northern nations.” If this

formula was vague, it was wide; and it sufficed, along with the more

definite support from Berlin, to decide the fate of Sweden. Gustavus

at once resolved to place himself wholly in Elliot’s hands. The

latter therefore made his way to the Danish headquarters; while the

King proceeded to Gothenburg.[817] At that fortress the spirit of the

defenders was as scanty as the means of defence. But affairs took on

a new aspect when, at nightfall of 3rd October, a drenched and weary

horseman sought admittance at their gate. A tumult of joy arose in the

town when it was known that Gustavus was in their midst, the precursor

of succouring bands. Now there was no thought of surrender.

Nevertheless, things would have gone hard with the burghers had the

Danes pushed their attack home. This they seemed about to do. Elliot

in his interview at their headquarters made little impression on the

Prince Royal and the Commander-in-Chief, the Prince of Hesse. Their

kinship to Gustavus seemed but to embitter their hostility; and they

undoubtedly hoped, after the reduction of Gothenburg, to dismember the

Swedish realm, and aggrandise the closely related houses of Russia and

Denmark. They pressed on to Gothenburg and made ready for an assault.

But in the meantime Gustavus, receiving help from seamen on British

vessels in the harbour, encouraged the citizens to make ready and man

the guns. So firm a front did the defenders present that the Danes on

9th October assented to Elliot’s offer of an armistice of eight days.

Within that time the Prussian Declaration reached their headquarters,

and lust of conquest now gave way to fear of a Prussian invasion of

Jutland. Again therefore Elliot succeeded in prolonging the armistice,

which finally was extended to six months (13th November–13th May 1789).

It is clear, then, that the initiative boldly taken by Ewart and

Elliot, backed by the threats from Berlin, saved Sweden from a position

of acute danger. The King of Sweden himself confessed in a letter to

Armfelt that Elliot’s _grand coup_ in effecting an armistice had saved

his kingdom, had restored the balance of Europe, and covered England

with glory. Erskine, British Consul at Gothenburg, also declared that

but for “the spirited and unremitted exertions of Mr. Elliot, there is

not a doubt but this city and province would have fallen into the hands

of the enemy on their first advancing.”[818] Elliot also described

his achievements in flamboyant terms, which were called forth by an

unmerited rebuke of our Foreign Office, that his instructions were

to restore peace, not to threaten the Danes with war.[819] His reply

of 15th November ran as follows: “The success of my efforts has been

almost miraculous.... Had I arrived at Carlstadt twenty-four hours

later than I did; had I negotiated with less _energy_ or success at

Gothenburg than what has drawn upon me the resentment of Russia and the

abettors of the boundless ambition of that Court, the _Revolution_ in

Sweden was compleated, and a combination formed in the North equally

hostile to England and Prussia.” He then charged Bernstorff with

duplicity in expressing a desire for peace, “while the Danes were

marching on an almost defenceless town, the capture of which decided

irrevocably the fate of Sweden and the Baltic.”... “Six weeks after

my arrival in Sweden a victorious army of 12,000 men, animated by

the presence of their Prince, in sight of a most brilliant conquest,

were checked in their progress by my single efforts; were induced to

evacuate the Swedish territories, and consented to a truce of six

months.... Perhaps in the annals of history there is not to be found

a more striking testimony of deference paid by a foreign prince to a

King of England than what the Prince Royal of Denmark manifested upon

this trying occasion.” He then stated that the efforts of the Prussian

envoy were of no avail owing to the dislike in which he was held; and

that only his [Elliot’s] influence availed to undo the harm caused by a

violent action of Gustavus III in the middle of October.

It would be interesting to know what Pitt thought of this bombast;

but on 5th December Carmarthen guardedly commended the magniloquent

envoy, and urged him to gain over Denmark to the Triple Alliance;

for, as Catharine had now declined the mediation of the Allies, while

Gustavus had accepted it, Denmark could justly refuse her demands for

help in the next campaign. Ostensibly Denmark refused; but, owing to

the profuse expenditure of the Russian Embassy at Copenhagen (estimated

by our _chargé d’affaires_, Johnstone, at £500 a day[820]), Catharine

gained permission to have fifteen warships from the White Sea repaired

in that dockyard.

Gustavus III no sooner found himself safe than he laid his plans for

humbling his enemies both at home and abroad. He summoned a Diet, and

proceeded to educate the electors in their duties by drawing up a list

of the ten deputies whom the men of Stockholm should choose. They held

other opinions, and sent up six declared opponents of the King.[821]

On the whole, however, the Estates were with him, and he imposed a

constitution on the recalcitrant Order of the Nobles, whereby he gained

absolute control of foreign policy. This triumph for autocracy took

place at the end of April 1789, only a week before the assembly of the

States-General at Versailles, which sounded the knell of the House of

Bourbon. Gustavus informed Elliot of his resolve to keep at peace with

Denmark, because a war with her “would turn me from my great aim--the

safety of the Ottomans and the abasement of Russia.” He therefore

begged Elliot to assure the prolongation of the Danish armistice for

six months. That envoy had now come to see that the chief danger of

Sweden lay in “the romantic projects of glory and aggrandisement formed

by the Sovereign himself”; and he pointed out the need for the Allies

to prescribe the terms of peace before he succumbed to the superior

forces of Russia.[822] Already Catharine had announced her resolve in

the words--“When Gustavus has had his say to his Diet, I will have my

say to him.”

With Elliot’s view of things Pitt and the Duke of Leeds (formerly

Marquis of Carmarthen) were in complete accord. On 24th June they

informed him that Gustavus must not expect the Allies to make peace for

him on his own terms, but only on that of the _status quo ante bellum_.

In this effort England would cordially join in order to keep the

balance of power in the Baltic. “I cannot,” continued Leeds, “too often

repeat the earnest desire of this Government to conciliate the Court of

Denmark in the first instance; nor do we lose sight of another material

object--I mean, a cordial and permanent connection with Russia.” Above

all, England would not go to war unless the balance of the Baltic

Powers were seriously endangered, to the detriment of the commercial

States.[823]

Here, then, we have another proof of the peaceful and cautious

character of Pitt’s policy. He distrusted the crowned Don Quixote of

the North, was resolved to save him only on England’s terms, viz.,

the _status quo_, and hoped that the pacification might lead up to an

alliance with Denmark and finally with Russia. In fact, he kept in view

the Northern System which had guided British statesmen of the earlier

generation. His aims were frustrated by the shifty policy of Denmark

and the vindictiveness of Catharine. “Hamlet” and “Semiramis,” as

Harris once termed them, thought lightly of England and longed for the

partition of Sweden. Accordingly the Danish fleet convoyed the fifteen

Russian men-of-war, long refitting at Copenhagen, into the Baltic,

until they joined the Cronstadt squadron of twenty-six ships near

Bornholm, and thereby secured for it a superiority in that sea. The

Duke of Leeds sent a sharp protest to Copenhagen, with the hint that

furthur actions of this kind might entail disagreeable consequences for

Denmark.[824] Even with this unfair help accorded to Russia, the Swedes

sustained no serious reverse either by land or sea. Gustavus summed up

the results of the campaign in the words: “After fighting like madmen

about every other day for two months, here we are at the same point at

which we started.” Nevertheless he had clogged the efforts of Catharine

against the Turks, and thus enabled his allies to prolong the unequal

struggle against two great empires. Neither the loss of Oczakoff,

nor the accession of the less capable Sultan, Selim III, daunted the

resolve of the Ottomans to continue a war which was for them an affair

of religious zeal and national honour.

CHAPTER XXII

PARTITION OR PACIFICATION?

He who gains nothing, loses.--CATHARINE II.

We cannot be considered as in any degree bound to support a system

of an offensive nature, the great end of which appears to be

aggrandisement rather than security.--PITT and the DUKE OF LEEDS,

24th June 1789.

The excess of an evil tends to produce its own cure. The resources

of two great Empires were being used for a partition of the Turkish

dominions, in a way which must have led to a succession of wars

without benefiting the Christians of the East. But the prospect of

the aggrandisement of Russia speedily led the hardy Gustavus to

strike a blow at her northern capital; and when Catharine incited the

Danes to deal a counterstroke at his unguarded rear, Great Britain

and Prussia intervened to prevent the overthrow of Sweden and of the

balance of power in the Baltic. Thus, forces which pressed on towards

Constantinople produced a sharp reaction in widening circles and

prompted States to attack or arm against their neighbours--Sweden

against Russia, Denmark against Sweden, and England and Prussia against

Denmark. Consequently Gustavus III might claim to have saved the

Turkish Empire; for his action brought into the arena England and, to

some extent, the Dutch Republic.

Less obvious but more potent was the influence of Prussia. Her forces,

cantoned along the Austrian and Russian borders, halved the efforts of

those Empires against the Turks and encouraged the Polish nationalists

to resist Russian predominance at Warsaw. Thus, by the year 1789,

instead of moving the forces of two Empires and of Poland against the

Turks, Catharine found her energies clogged, her resources strained,

and only one important conquest achieved, that of Oczakoff. Over

against this triumph she had to set the menacing attitude of the

Triple Alliance lately framed by Great Britain, Prussia, and the Dutch

Republic.

For a time the Czarina cherished the hope that the insanity of George

III, and the accession of the Regent, would lead to the downfall

of Pitt and the reversal of British policy. On 8/19 December 1788

she wrote to her ambassador at London, Count Vorontzoff (Woronzow),

charging him to make overtures to Fox and the Dukes of Portland and

Devonshire for the renewal of the Anglo-Russian alliance, which for the

last five years she had spurned. With a vehemence of style, in which

feelings figured as facts, she inveighed against Pitt for slighting her

many offers of friendship, for allowing Ainslie and Elliot to incite

Turkey and Sweden to attack her, and for entangling himself in the

dangerous and visionary schemes of Hertzberg. All this, however, would

be changed when the Prince of Wales and Fox came to power.

On 19/30 January Vorontzoff replied that he had seen Fox, who accorded

him a hearty welcome, and said that in a fortnight the Regency would

be established. He (Fox) would then be Foreign Secretary, and would

be able to speak of England’s treaty obligations to Prussia. The

language of Fox showed some measure of caution, and partly palliated

the gross imprudence of according an interview at all. A little later

(perhaps before receiving Vorontzoff’s answer) the Empress expressed

her admiration of the reply sent by the Prince of Wales (it was really

Burke’s and Sheridan’s) to Pitt, as it argued distinguished talents.

The Prince and Fox, she said, would certainly prevent their people

being dragged at the heel of Prussia. As for herself, she declared

her wish to grant them a commercial treaty, which she had refused

two years before. The correspondence throws a curious light on the

feline diplomacy of Catharine and on the singular folly of Fox.[825]

It also prepares us for the unpatriotic part which he played in the

Anglo-Russian dispute of the year 1791. The recovery of George III,

about the time when Catharine indited the latter epistle, pricked the

bubble, and left Pitt in a position of greater power than ever.

Thus, in the spring of 1789, the general position was somewhat as

follows. England, Prussia, and Holland, acting in close concert, were

resolved to prevent any revolutionary changes in the Baltic. This

implied that Denmark could not attack Sweden, and that Gustavus might

war against Catharine until she chose to accept the mediation of the

Allies for the re-establishment of the _status quo ante bellum_. As for

the other Powers, France was almost a nullity owing to the internal

troubles which were leading up to the Revolution. Spain was friendly to

the Allies and favoured the cause of Sweden and Turkey.[826] Moreover

the Poles, acting on hints from Berlin, were beginning to shake off

Russian tutelage and to feel their way towards a drastic reform of

their chaotic polity. Early in 1789 the Prussian Court sought for a

close political and commercial union with Poland. The ensuing compact

freed the Poles from the obligations contracted by King Stanislaus

with his former mistress, Catharine II; it further promised to bind

their realm to England and Holland; above all, it opened up vast

possibilities for the regeneration of that hapless people.

As for the concert of the two Empires, discords were already heard.

Joseph II, alarmed at the turmoil in Hungary and Belgium, as well

as disgusted at the results of his first Turkish campaign, talked

of waging merely a defensive war, and of offering easy terms to the

Ottomans. Potemkin, puffed up by the capture of Oczakoff, announced

his resolve that Moldavia and Wallachia should never fall to the

Hapsburgs--an aim that had been distinctly formulated at Vienna.

Russia herself, a prey to the greedy gang who fawned on the Empress

and drained her treasury, seemed unable to bear for long the strain of

war on two frontiers, and of precautionary measures against Prussia.

The Court of Berlin, as Mirabeau had pointed out, was honeycombed by

intrigues and favouritism; but it was sound at the core compared with

Russia. The French author of the “Secret Memoirs of the Court of St.

Petersburg” states that in the declining years of Catharine the Russian

finances were exploited in a way more disgraceful than even France

had seen; that none were so little as the great; and that officers

notoriously lived on the funds of their regiments. Catharine herself

once jauntily remarked about a colonel--“Well! If he be poor, it is his

own fault; for he has long had a regiment.” It speaks volumes for the

patriotism and stupidity of the troops that they still had enough of

the old Muscovite staunchness to carry them to victory over the Turks.

But such was the case. In the campaigns of 1789 the army of Suvóroff

gained several successes, and the troops of Joseph II, once more urged

onwards by that ruler, also had their meed of triumph.

This was partly due to the death of Abdul Hamid I, which brought to the

Ottoman throne a feebler successor, Selim III (April 1789). The Grand

Vizier, the soul of the war party, was soon overthrown, and the next

commander-in-chief, the Pacha of Widdin, impaired by his slothfulness

the fighting power of the Ottomans.[827] Belgrade and Semendria were

lost. But even more serious, perhaps, than these reverses was the

emergence of plans at Berlin which portended gain to Prussia at the

expense of Turkey. We are concerned here with European affairs only so

far as they affected British policy, and must therefore concentrate

our attention on the statecraft of the years 1789 and 1790, which

threatened sweeping changes on the Continent and brought into play the

cautious conservatism of Pitt. The French Revolution and its immense

consequences will engage our attention later.

As we saw in Chapter XVI, the Prussian statesman, Hertzberg, had long

been maturing an ingenious scheme for the aggrandisement of Prussia, by

a general shuffling together of boundaries in the East of Europe.[828]

On 13th May 1789 he presented it in its complete form to Frederick

William, who, after long balancings on this question, now accorded his

consent. The Prussian monarch thereby pledged himself, at a favourable

occasion, to offer his armed mediation to Russia, Austria, and Turkey.

If the two Empires overcame the Sultan, as seemed probable, Prussia was

to threaten their frontiers with masses of troops and, under threat of

war, compel them to accept her terms. If, however, victory inclined

to the crescent, Dietz, the Prussian envoy at Constantinople, was to

remind the Sublime Porte that the triumph was largely due to Prussia’s

action in enabling Sweden to continue the war against Russia, and in

thwarting Catharine’s plan of an invasion of Turkey by the Poles.

Dietz was also to hint “in a delicate and not threatening manner,”

that if Prussia threw her weight into the scales against the Turks,

the new Coalition must speedily overwhelm her. “Therefore the Porte

will do well not to balance on that point,” but will accept Prussia’s

terms.[829] There was a third alternative, that the war would drag on

indecisively, in which case the exhaustion of the belligerents must

enable Prussia to work her will the more readily.

Accordingly Hertzberg hoped that, however the fortunes of war inclined,

he would gain his ends. They were as follows. The Turks, if victorious,

must sacrifice their gains (the Crimea, etc.) at the demand of Prussia,

and thus enable her to compel Austria to restore to the Poles the great

province of Galicia, torn from them in the partition of 1772. The Poles

in their turn were to reward Frederick William by ceding to him the

fortresses of Danzig and Thorn, along with part of Great Poland, which

so inconveniently divided Prussia’s eastern lands.

The same general result was to follow in the event of Russia and

Austria driving back the Turks to their last natural barrier, the

Balkans. Prussia was then to draw the sword on behalf of Turkey and

Sweden, restore the balance in the South-East, and give the law to all

parties. In that case, it appeared (though Hertzberg wavered on this

point), Austria might acquire Moldavia and Wallachia from Turkey, and

thereby close against Russia the door leading to the Balkans. At times

Hertzberg stated that Austria must in any case gain those commanding

provinces, which would sever her friendship with Russia.[830] As for

Catharine, she might retain the Crimea, and gain land perhaps as far as

the Dniester. On the whole, however, Hertzberg hoped that Prussia need

not go to war, but that the Turks would make a good enough stand at the

Danube to enable the mere appearance of the splendid army of Prussia on

the frontiers of the two Empires to enforce his demands.

Much has been written for and against this scheme. Among the many

projects of that time it holds a noteworthy place. Certainly it would

greatly have simplified the boundaries of Eastern Europe. The recovery

by Poland of her natural frontier on the south-west, the Carpathians,

would strengthen that State, and enable her, with the help of her

Prussian ally, to defy the wrath of the two Imperial Courts. Hertzberg

believed that the Poles would gladly accept the offer. For was not

the great province of Galicia worth the smaller, though commercially

valuable, districts on the lower Vistula which would go to Frederick

William? Further, would not a good commercial treaty between the Allies

(in which England, it was hinted, might have her share) make up for the

loss of the prosperous city of Danzig? In truth, the proposal reminds

one of the schemes for scientific frontiers which Rousseau outlined and

Napoleon reduced to profitable practice.

It might have succeeded had nations been mere amoebae, divisible at

will. Traders and philosophers might acclaim Hertzberg as the Adam

Smith of Prussia and Poland. In truth, his plan was defensible, even

on its Machiavellian side--the aggrandisement of Prussia, ultimately

at the expense of the Turks. For it might be argued that the ultimate

triumph of the crescent was impossible, and that only the action of

Sweden, Prussia, and to a less extent England, could avert disaster.

Hertzberg also claimed that Prussia and her Allies should guarantee to

Turkey the security of her remaining possessions, and deemed this a

set-off to the disappointments brought by his other proposals.

Nevertheless the balance of argument was heavily against the scheme. As

the Pitt Cabinet pointed out in a weighty pronouncement on 24th June,

Hertzberg proposed to use Turkey as a medium for the attainment of his

ends, which were the depression of Austria and the aggrandisement of

Prussia. However well and successfully the Turks fought, the gain was

to accrue to Frederick William, not to the Swedes, who were fighting

desperately for the Ottoman cause. True, Prussia promised in the last

resort to help the Sultan to recover some of his lost provinces; but

even then, the acquisitions of the two Empires at the end of costly

campaigns were scarcely to balance those of Prussia and Poland. Well

might the British Cabinet say of the Turks: “It seems very doubtful

whether either their power or their inclination would answer the

expectations of the Court of Berlin.”

After this ironical touch the verdict of the Pitt Ministry was given to

Ewart as follows:

You will not fail to assure the Ministers at Berlin of the

satisfaction with which the King will see any real and solid

advantages derived to His Prussian Majesty by such arrangements

as may be obtained by way of negotiation and without the danger

of extending those hostilities [which] it is so much the interest

of all Europe to put an end to. We cannot but acknowledge the

friendly attention manifested by His Prussian Majesty towards his

Allies in taking care not to commit them in the event of the Porte

acceding to the proposed plan of co-operation, the operations of

which go so much beyond the spirit of our treaty of Alliance,

which is purely of a defensive nature, and by which we cannot of

course be considered as in any degree bound to support a system

of an offensive nature, the great end of which appears to be

aggrandisement rather than security, and which from its very nature

is liable to provoke fresh hostilities instead of contributing to

the restoration of general tranquillity.

In discussing these points, and indeed upon every other occasion,

I must beg of you, Sir, to remember that it is by no means

the idea of His Majesty, or of his confidential servants, to

risk the engaging this country in a war on account of Turkey,

either directly or indirectly; and I am to desire you would be

particularly careful in your language, to prevent any intention

of that nature being imputed to us. I think it necessary to

mention this distinctly, as I observe in one of your dispatches,

you state the continuance of the Northern War _as in some degree

advantageous_, as it would be a powerful _diversion in case the

Allies should take part in the Turkish War_. This I must again

observe to you is an object by no means in our view.

With respect to any future guarantee of the Ottoman Empire it is

impossible for us to commit ourselves at present. The consideration

will naturally arise how far such a guarantee is either necessary

or beneficial when the terms of peace come under discussion. The

effect which a guarantee of the Turkish possessions might create

in Russia likewise deserves some consideration; and I cannot but

observe that the whole tenor of these Instructions [those sent to

Dietz] seems likely to throw at a greater distance the chance of

detaching Russia from Austria and connecting it with us; whereas

hitherto it has been our object, and, as it appeared to us, that

of Prussia, while we made Russia feel the disadvantage of being

upon distant terms with us, and avoided doing anything which looked

like courting her friendship, still to avoid pushing things to an

extremity or precluding a future connection.[831]

At several points this pronouncement challenges attention. Firstly,

it does not once refer to the feelings and prejudices of the peoples

who were to be bartered about. Only four days previously the Commons

of France had sworn by the Tennis Court Oath that they would frame a

constitution for their land--a declaration which rang trumpet-tongued

through England; but not the faintest echo of it appears in the

official language of Pitt and the Duke of Leeds. Their arguments

are wholly those of the old school, but of the old school at its

best. For, secondly, they deprecate changes of territory forced by a

mediating Power on the people it ostensibly befriends, which tend to

their detriment and its own benefit. They question whether Prussia can

press through these complex partitions without provoking a general

war--the very evil which the Triple Alliance has sought to avoid.

Certainly England will never go to war to bring them about; neither

will she draw the sword on behalf of Turkey. On the contrary, she hopes

finally to regain the friendship of Russia. Most noteworthy of all is

the central criticism, that the aim of Hertzberg is “aggrandisement

rather than security.” We shall have occasion to observe how often Pitt

used this last word to denote the end for which he struggled against

Revolutionary France and Napoleon; and its presence in this despatch

bespeaks the mind of the Prime Minister acting through the pen of the

Duke of Leeds.

The defensive character of Pitt’s policy further appears in a despatch

to Ewart, also of 24th June, cautioning that very zealous envoy that

all possible means are being taken to win over Denmark peacefully to

the Triple Alliance, in order that it may “command the keys of the

Baltic.” Gustavus is to be warned that the Allies cannot help him

unless he agrees to forego his hopes of gain at the expense of Russia,

and “to act merely upon the defensive.” The _status quo ante bellum_

would be the fairest basis of peace in the Baltic, and it would prove

“that the real object of our interference was calculated for general

views of public utility, and not founded upon any motives of partiality

for one Power or resentment to another.”

For a time events seemed to work against the pacific policy of Pitt and

in favour of the schemes of Hertzberg. The summer witnessed not only

the advance of the Russians and Austrians into the Danubian Provinces,

but also the wrigglings to and fro of the Danish Court, which enabled

the Russian squadron at Copenhagen to join the Cronstadt fleet and

command the Baltic. Nevertheless, Prussia felt that she had the game

in her own hands, however much her Allies might hold aloof; for the

Austrian Government was distracted by news of the seething discontent

of the Hungarians, of the Poles in Galicia, and, above all, of the

Brabanters and Flemings. Joseph II, too, was obviously sinking under

these worries, which seemed to presage the break up of his Empire.[832]

The Prussian Court therefore resolved to concentrate its efforts on

wresting Galicia and the Belgic Provinces from the Hapsburg Power,

especially as the Porte, despite its recent defeats, refused to listen

to Dietz when he mentioned the cession of Moldavia and Wallachia to the

infidels.[833] Until the Moslems had learnt the lessons of destiny,

it was obviously desirable to set about robbing Austria by more

straightforward means.

* * * * *

The folly of Joseph II favoured this scheme of robbery. His reforms

in the Belgic Provinces had long brought that naturally conservative

people to the brink of revolt, so that in the spring of the year 1789

plans were laid not only at Brussels but also at Berlin for securing

their independence. Hertzberg sought to work upon the fears of Pitt by

hinting that Austria might call in the French troops to stamp out the

discontent--a contingency far from unlikely, were it not that France

was rapidly sliding into the abyss of bankruptcy and revolution. By a

curious coincidence the repressive authority of Joseph II was exerted

on 18th June, the day after the Third Estate of France defiantly styled

itself the National Assembly. While Paris was jubilant at the news of

this triumph, the mandates of the Emperor swept away the Estates and

ancient privileges of Brabant. As this action involved the suppression

of the ancient charter of privileges, quaintly termed _La Joyeuse

Entrée_, the Brabanters put into practice its final clause, that the

citizens might use force against the sovereign who infringed its

provisions. “Act here as in Paris” ran the placards in Brussels and

other cities. The capture of the Bastille added fuel to the fire in

Belgium; and the nationalist victory was completed by a rising of the

men of Liége against the selfish and deadening rule of their Prince

Bishop.[834]

The likeness between the Belgian and French Revolutions is wholly

superficial. Despite the effort of Camille Desmoulins to link the

two movements in sympathy--witness the title of his newspaper “Les

Révolutions de France et de Brabant”--no thinking man could confound

the democratic movement in France with the narrowly national and

clerical aims of the majority in Brabant and Flanders. True, an attempt

was made by a few progressives, under the lead of Francis Vonck, to

inculcate the ideas of Voltaire and Rousseau; but the influence of

the Roman Church, always paramount in Flanders, availed to crush this

effort. Van der Noot and the clericals gained the upper hand, and

finally compelled the Vonckists to flee over the southern border.

In the month of July Van der Noot declared in favour of a Belgian

Republic under the guarantee and protection of England, Prussia, and

Holland. He set on foot overtures to this end which met with a friendly

response at Berlin and The Hague.[835] The Prussian Court sent General

Schliessen to discuss the matter with the British Government; but Pitt

and Leeds behaved very guardedly on a question involving a recognition

of the Belgian revolt and the end of the Barrier System on which we had

long laid so much stress. Their despatch of 14th September to Ewart

emphasized the difficulties attending Van der Noot’s proposal, even if

his statements were correct. At the same time Ministers asserted that

the Allies must at all costs prevent the Belgians becoming dependent on

France, a noteworthy statement which foreshadows Pitt’s later policy of

resisting the annexation of those rich provinces to the French Republic

or Empire. For the present, he strongly advised Prussia and Holland to

await the course of events and do nothing “to threaten the interruption

of that tranquillity it is so much their interest, and, I trust, their

intention, to preserve.” Above all, it would be well to wait for the

death of Joseph II, already announced as imminent, seeing that his

successor might grant to the Belgians the needed concessions.[836]

The Belgians seem to have trusted the Pitt Cabinet far more than

Hertzberg, whose restless policy aroused general distrust. They made

two overtures to the British Court. The former of these, strange to

say, came through a French nobleman, the Comte de Charrot, who called

on Lord Robert Fitzgerald, our envoy at Paris, on or about 21st

October, and confided to him his resentment against France, his warm

sympathies with the Belgians (he was a descendant of the old Counts of

Flanders), and his fear that France would dominate that land after the

downfall of Austrian authority. He besought Fitzgerald to forward to

the Duke of Leeds a letter warning the Cabinet of the efforts of the

National Assembly to form a party among the Brabanters and Flemings,

who, however, were resolved not to accept the rule of a foreign prince,

but to form a Republic under the protection of Great Britain. To this

end they were willing to place in her hands the city of Ostend as a

pledge of their fidelity to the British connection. A German prince, he

added, would never be tolerated, save in the eastern provinces, Limburg

and Luxemburg. His letter, dated Antwerp, 15th October, to the Duke of

Leeds, is couched in the same terms.[837]

The proposal opens up a vista of the possibilities of that strange

situation. By planting the British flag at Ostend, and by allowing

Prussia to dominate the eastern Netherlands, Pitt could have built up

once more a barrier on the north-east of France. All this was possible,

provided that Charrot’s proposals were genuine and represented the

real feelings of the Belgians. Evidently Pitt and Leeds distrusted the

offer, which seems to have been left unanswered.

Early in November, when the plans of the Belgian patriots for ousting

the Austrians were nearing completion, they sent as spokesman Count de

Roode to appeal for the protection of George III. Pitt laid the request

before the King; and the result will be seen in Pitt’s letter to the

Count:

Downing St. _Nov. 13, 1789_.

I have received the letter which you honoured me with, informing

me that you were employed on the part of the people of Brabant

to solicit the King’s protection, and desiring to see me for the

purpose of delivering a letter to me on that subject. I thought

it my duty to lay these circumstances before His Majesty, who has

not been pleased to authorize me to enter into any discussion in

consequence of an application which does not appear to be made by

any regular or acknowledged authority. I must therefore, Sir, beg

you to excuse me, if, on that account, I am under the necessity of

declining seeing you for the purpose which you propose.[838]

Somewhat earlier the Duke of Orleans had come on a mission to London,

ostensibly on the Belgian Question, but really for a term of forced

absence from Paris. It will therefore be well to describe his visit in

a later chapter.

Cold as were Pitt’s replies to de Roode, he certainly kept a watchful

eye on Belgian affairs. For, on the one hand, if Joseph II succeeded

in establishing despotic power at Brussels, he would gain complete

control over the finances and armed forces of that flourishing land,

with results threatening to the Dutch and even to Prussia. If, however,

the Brabanters succeeded as the Flemings had done, French democracy

might rush in as a flood and gallicize the whole of that land to

the detriment of England. Pitt therefore approved of the Prussian

proposal to send troops to occupy the Bishopric of Liége, seeing that

the deposed bishop had appealed to Austria for armed aid. With the

prestige gained by the military occupation of Liége, Hertzberg hoped

to dominate the situation both in the Low Countries and in the East.

Most pressingly did he urge the need of instantly recognizing the

independence of the Belgian provinces; but after long arguments Ewart

convinced him that it might be better, even for Prussia, to press for

the restoration of their old constitution, with all its limitations to

the power of the Emperor, under the guarantee of the three Allies. If

Ewart succeeded with Hertzberg, he failed with Frederick William, who

on that and other occasions showed himself “very elated” and determined

to tear from Austria that valuable possession, as well as Galicia.[839]

Hertzberg did his utmost to persuade England to combine the two

questions so as the more to embarrass Austria; but he met with steady

refusals.

On 30th November Pitt took the sense of the Cabinet. It was clearly in

favour of non-intervention and the restoration as far as possible of

the previous state of things. Nevertheless, the men of Brabant, in case

of defeat by the Imperialists, were encouraged to hope that the Allies

would declare for the restoration of the old constitution. On the other

hand, in case of victory, they were to be induced “to take steps for

preventing the prevalence of democratical principles.”[840] Obviously,

then, Pitt desired to keep out both Prussian and French influence,

and to leave the Belgians free to come to terms with the successor of

Joseph II after the imminent demise of that monarch. Events favoured

this solution. In December Brussels and all parts of Brabant shook off

the yoke of the Imperialists, who retired to Luxemburg. Early in the

year 1790 deputies from the nine Belgic provinces met at Brussels,

declared the deposition of Joseph, and formed a Federal Congress for

mutual protection. The clerical and conservative party, headed by Van

der Noot, sent to Paris an appeal for support, which found no favour

either with Louis or the National Assembly, the King desiring not to

offend Austria, and the French deputies distrusting the aims of the

majority at Brussels.

Pitt and his colleagues were equally cautious. On the news of the

successful revolt of Brussels, they seemed for a time to incline to the

Prussian plan of recognizing the independence of Belgium,[841] and on

9th January 1790 they framed a compact with Prussia and Holland with

a view to taking common action in this affair. But the most urgent

demands from Berlin in favour of immediate action failed to push Pitt

on to this last irrevocable step. It does not appear that the King

controlled his action; for at that time he was so far absorbed in the

escapades of his sons (those of Prince Edward were an added trouble) as

to be a cipher in all but domestic concerns. Pitt and Leeds therefore

had a free hand. They were influenced probably by the news that Joseph,

despite the progress of his mortal disease, had resolved to subdue

the Netherlands. The tidings opened up two alternatives--war between

Austria and Prussia, or the possibility of a peaceful compromise

after the death of Joseph and the accession of his far more tractable

brother, Leopold.

These seem to have been the motives underlying the decision of the

Pitt Cabinet, early in 1790, to defer any decisive action by the

Allies. The Duke of Leeds pointed out to Ewart on 9th February that

the feuds between the Belgic provinces made them useless as allies;

that any immediate recognition of their independence would have

“mischievous effects”; and that a reconciliation between them and their

future ruler seemed highly probable. They should, therefore, not be

encouraged to hope for recognition by the Allies. Leeds closed by very

pertinently asking the Court of Berlin “how far this new Republic, once

established, could be (and by whom) prevented from becoming indirectly,

if not directly, totally dependent upon France.” The argument derived

added force from the fact that a “French emissary” was then at Brussels

offering the recognition by France of the proposed Belgian Republic,

with the help of 20,000 troops against any who should oppose it.[842]

This offer was not official; but as the moods of the National Assembly

varied day by day, it might at any time become so. Certainly the chance

of French invervention added a sting to the reproaches soon to be

levelled at Pitt from Berlin.

They were called forth by the missive above referred to, and by a

“secret and confidential” despatch of the same date. In the latter Pitt

and Leeds warned Ewart that the proposed armed mediation of Prussia

against Catharine and Joseph was outside the scope of the Triple

Alliance. The British Government wished Prussia the success which might

be expected from the power of her army, the flourishing state of her

revenue, and the present doubtful condition both of Russia and Austria;

but it could not participate in “measures adopted without the previous

concurrence of the Allies.”[843]

A storm of obloquy broke upon Ewart when he announced these decisions.

The Court of Berlin insisted on the need of immediately recognizing

Belgian independence, adding a threat that otherwise those provinces

would do well to throw themselves upon France. Our ambassador partly

succeeded in stilling the storm, especially when news came of tumults

at Brussels and the uncertainty of the outlook throughout Brabant.

Frederick William then recognized the wisdom of waiting until affairs

were more settled, but he declared that he “was abandoned by his

Allies,” and that, unless Galicia could be detached from Austria, he

would prefer to see the Netherlands go to France.[844] This piece of

royal pettishness served at least to show that his friendship for

England depended on her serving his designs against Austria.

Here was the weakness of the Triple Alliance. The Allies had almost

nothing in common, except that the British and Dutch both wished to

live in peace and develop their trade. Prussia, on the contrary, saw

in this time of turmoil the opportunity of consolidating her scattered

Eastern lands by a scheme not unlike the Belgic-Bavarian Exchange.

On the score of morality we may censure such plans; but vigorous and

growing States will push them on while their rivals are abased, and

will discard Allies who oppose them. In this contrariety of interests

lay the secret of the weakness of the Anglo-Prussian alliance during

the upheavals of the near future. It also happened that the House of

Hohenzollern matured these plans at the very time when the fortunes

of the House of Hapsburg, after touching their nadir, began once more

to rise; and the revival of Austria under Leopold II helped Pitt

to maintain the existing order of things in Central Europe against

all the schemings of Hertzberg. The success of Pitt in this work of

statesmanlike conservation marks the climax of his diplomatic career;

and, as it has never received due attention, I make no apology for

treating it somewhat fully in the following chapter.

CHAPTER XXIII

PARTITION OR PACIFICATION (CONTINUED)

I want the trumpet of an angel to proclaim to the ears of

sovereigns that it is become their universal interest as well as

their moral duty to have a period of peace.--LORD AUCKLAND TO SIR

ROBERT MURRAY KEITH, 7th May 1790.

Probably at no time in the history of Europe have all the leading

States been so bent on plans of mutual spoliation as in the closing

weeks of the life of Joseph II of Austria. The failure of his schemes

and the probability of a break up of the Hapsburg dominions whetted

the appetites of all his neighbours and brought Europe to the verge

of a general war. In these circumstances it was providential that one

Great Power stood for international morality, and that its counsels

were swayed by a master-mind. The future of Europe depended on the

intelligent conservatism of Pitt and the duration of the life of his

political opposite, Joseph II. That life had long been wearing rapidly

away; and on 20th February 1790 he died, full of pain, disappointment,

and regret that crowned the tragedy of his career.

His death brought new life and hopes to the Hapsburg peoples. The

new sovereign, Leopold II, his brother, soon proved to be one of the

astutest rulers of that race. He has been termed the only ruler of

that age who correctly read the signs of the times.[845] If Joseph

was called the crowned philosopher, Leopold may be styled the crowned

diplomatist. Where the former gave the rein to the impulses of

Voltairian philosophy and romantic idealism, his successor surveyed

affairs with a calculating prudence which resulted, perhaps, from

the patriarchal size of his family--he had twelve children--and from

his long rule in the Grand Duchy of Tuscany.[846] Certainly he knew

how impossible it was to thrust advanced Liberal ideas and central

institutions on the tough and unenlightened peoples of the Hapsburg

realm. Above all he discerned the folly of aggressive foreign policy

while all was turmoil at home. He therefore prepared to pacify his

subjects before the war cloud hanging over the Riesengebirge burst upon

Bohemia.

His caution and pliability opened up a new future for Central Europe.

Had the headstrong and pertinacious Joseph lived much longer (though

some gleams of prudence lighted on him in his last months) revolts

could scarcely have been staved off in Hungary and the Low Countries,

where even his belated concessions inspired distrust. Above all, he

could never have coped with the forceful policy of Prussia. There is

little room for doubt that the continuance of his life would have

involved the loss of the Belgic provinces, Galicia, and, perhaps, even

Bohemia. The Hohenzollerns would have leaped to heights of power that

would always challenge to conflict; and Europe, a prey to Revolution

in the West, must have been torn at the heart by deadly strifes, both

dynastic and racial.

In closing the sluices against the currents about to be let loose

at Berlin, Pitt had latterly counted on the well-known prudence of

Leopold of Tuscany. On 26th February, before the decease of Joseph was

known in London, the British Government stiffly opposed the Prussian

plan of acknowledging the independence of the Austrian Netherlands.

Great Britain--so ran the despatch to Ewart, our envoy to Berlin--had

covenanted merely to prevent the Emperor making “an unrestrained use

of the wealth and population” of those provinces, and to obviate the

possibility of their going to swell the power of France. England (added

Pitt in a side note of his own) must counteract French intrigues in

Brabant; but they were unofficial, and would probably fail.[847] He

therefore deprecated any action which must lead to a war with Austria;

but he offered to help Prussia in restoring the former state of

things in the Low Countries. Stress was then laid on “the necessity

of enabling Sweden to defend herself by another campaign against

Russia”; England would pay her part of the sum needed for the support

of Gustavus, and would also secure the neutrality of Denmark; but war

against Russia and Austria was denounced as altogether foreign to our

cardinal principle of restoring the former condition of things. Pitt

and Leeds closed their despatch with the following noteworthy words:

The commencement of hostilities against the Imperial Courts, either

indirectly by an immediate recognition of the Belgic Independence,

or directly by our joining in the measures of offensive operations

which Prussia may feel it her interest to adopt, would go beyond

the line which this country has uniformly laid down, and from which

it does not appear that the present circumstances should induce her

to depart. If either the joint representations of the Allies, or

the subsequent measures such as they have been here stated, should

be successful in bringing about a peace on the terms of the _status

quo_, this country would then be willing to include Turkey, Poland,

and Sweden in the alliance and to guarantee to them the terms of

that pacification.[848]

In order to understand the importance of this pronouncement, we must

remember that at this time the chances of success attending the

dismembering schemes of the two Empires and those of Prussia were

curiously equal. In bulk Russia and Austria had the advantage. Their

armies also seemed likely to drive the Turks over the Balkans in the

next campaign, unless potent diversions in the rear impaired their

striking power. But these diversions were imminent. The fate of the

Hapsburg dominions still hovered in the balance. Catharine was face to

face with another Swedish campaign which her exhausted exchequer could

scarcely meet. How then could these two Empires withstand the shock of

200,000 trained Prussians, with the prospect that an Anglo-Dutch fleet

would sweep the Russian warships from the sea? And this was not all.

Hertzberg had already detached Poland from the Russian alliance and was

on the point of adding the resources of that kingdom to his own;[849]

and the prospect of consolidating Poland, both politically and

geographically, opened up hopeful vistas for that interesting people

and the whole European polity. Above all it promised to strengthen

Prussia on her weakest flank.

It is not surprising, then, that the ambitious and enterprising Dietz

exceeded his instructions by signing a treaty with the Porte on

31st January 1790. He thereby pledged Prussia to make war on Russia

and Austria in the spring, and not to lay down her arms until she

secured for the Sultan an “honourable and stable peace,” which assured

safety for Constantinople against an attack by sea. If the Turks were

victorious, Prussia promised to secure the Crimea for them. The Sultan,

on his side, promised to compel Austria to restore Galicia to the

Poles, who were, if possible, to be brought into the Triple Alliance.

Finally Prussia, England, Holland, Sweden, and Poland were to guarantee

the Turkish possessions as then defined.

These grandiose designs were furthered by the Prusso-Polish treaty,

signed at Warsaw on 29th March. By it Frederick William, in case of

hostilities, would send 18,000 men to assist the Republic, which would

send 8,000 horsemen and half that number of footmen, or an equivalent

in money or corn.[850] In case of great need the numbers of troops

might be raised to 30,000 and 20,000 respectively. More important than

this material succour was the advantage of marching through Polish

Volhynia down the valley of the Dniester to cut the communications of

the Russian army on the lower Danube. Meanwhile the Poles would overrun

Galicia, and the Prussians invade Bohemia and Moravia for the purpose

of inciting the Czechs and Hungarians to open revolt. On the whole the

chances of war favoured Frederick William and his Allies, especially

when the British Government agreed to join with Prussia in subsidizing

Sweden for the campaign of 1790. The valour of the Swedes and their

nearness to the Russian capital compelled Catharine to concentrate

her efforts largely against them, and the prospect of a Prusso-Polish

alliance aroused grave fears at Petersburg. “Everyone here wears a

look of consternation,” wrote the Prussian envoy to his Court on 5th

February. Probably this explains the passing flirtation of Catharine

with England, which Pitt seems to have taken at its true value, in view

of the exorbitant terms previously offered by her to Gustavus.[851]

In fact, the air was charged with insincerity and intrigue. The

Prussian alliance with the Poles, which might have brought salvation to

that distracted people, was accompanied with extremely hard conditions.

Hertzberg saw in it the opportunity of once more forcing on his scheme

of gaining Danzig and Thorn in return for the halving of the Prussian

duties on Polish trade down the Vistula. His Shylock-like insistence

on these terms deprived the compact of all worth from the outset; for

the Poles claimed, and with reason, that the cession of those valuable

districts should be bought, not by the halving of certain customs dues,

but by the recovery of the whole of Galicia from Austria. In these

demands the Court of Berlin seemed to concur; but ultimately, as we

shall see, it allowed them to be frittered away under pressure from

Vienna. As a result, the Poles felt no less distrust of Prussia than

of the two Empires; and our envoy at Warsaw, Daniel Hailes, found that

British policy alone inspired a feeling of confidence, and that a keen

desire prevailed for a close alliance with England.[852]

Pitt also, guided by our naval experts, who wished England to be

freed from dependence on Russia for naval stores, saw the advantage

of a compact with Poland, provided her trade were freed from Prussian

shackles. But his hands were so far tied by his alliance with Prussia,

that he supported her demand for Danzig (not Thorn), if it were

accompanied by an enlightened commercial treaty in which England might

have a share. Events soon proved that greed rather than enlightenment

prevailed at Berlin. That Court clung to its demand for Danzig and

Thorn, and its envoy at Warsaw, the subtle, scheming, and masterful

Lucchesini, more than once showed a disposition to hark back to the

policy of Frederick the Great, and to choke the disputes with Austria

and Russia by a partition of Poland.[853]

For a time this seemed to be the natural upshot of an _entente_ which

unexpectedly came about between Berlin and Vienna. Not long after

his accession Leopold wrote to his brother of Prussia in the terms

of sensibility then in vogue. Frederick William answered in equally

effusive strains; and but for the austere domination of the old

Chancellor, Kaunitz, at Vienna, and the “turbulent genius” of Hertzberg

at Berlin, there seemed a faint hope of a reconciliation.[854] But

Kaunitz knew well how to keep up the bitterness against the upstart

Protestant State; and Hertzberg had resolved to keep his master up to

the high level of his own ambitions. Ingeniously he sowed the seeds

of discord between the Imperial Courts by suggesting that Catharine

should accept the mediation of the Allies with a view to a peace with

the Porte.[855] This would leave Austria at the mercy of Prussia, and

involve the loss of Galicia and the Netherlands. This last topic lay

near to the heart of his Sovereign. Lord Auckland wrote thus on 19th

March from his new Embassy at The Hague: “I have the fullest evidence

that nothing less than absolute and inevitable necessity will induce

him [Frederick William II] to contribute by word or deed to replacing

the Netherlands under their old Government.” And three weeks later he

expressed his astonishment that, in view of the widespread anarchy,

Prussia and all Governments should not feel it their prime duty to

restore those ideas of order and just subordination to legal authority

which the world so urgently needed. Otherwise the European fabric would

be sapped by French theories and succumb to a new series of barbarian

invasions.[856]

These were the views of Pitt, though he expressed them with less

nervous vehemence. His aim, and that of his colleagues, was to bring

Austria first, and afterwards Russia, to a pacification. They reminded

the Court of Berlin that Leopold had “neither the same predilection for

Russia, the same jealousy of Prussia, [n]or dislike to the mediation of

England” as Joseph had displayed, and that the _status quo_ might now

find favour at Vienna. Leopold, they added, could not possibly accept

the last proposal of Hertzberg, of ceding Galicia to the Poles on

condition of being allowed to regain the Netherlands.[857] The British

Cabinet also, on 30th March, charged Keith to press for an immediate

armistice between Austria and Turkey, with a view to summoning a

Congress of the Powers for a general pacification, which Great Britain

earnestly desired. But, they added, with a touch of guile, as it would

take much longer to communicate with St. Petersburg, they hoped that

Austria would act alone, and immediately grant an armistice to the

Turks. If Austria would further pledge herself to admit the restoration

of the old constitution in the Netherlands, Keith might accept this as

satisfactory, and send off a courier to Constantinople to warn Ainslie

to bring the Porte to reason.[858]

The aim of saving Austria from many dangers is here so obvious that

one learns with astonishment that Kaunitz received these offers most

haughtily. The belated concessions granted by Joseph on his death-bed

to his malcontent subjects had met with his approval, but only, as it

seems, in order to press on the war with Turkey _à outrance_, as if

that, and that alone, would impose on the Court of Berlin. With senile

obstinacy and old-world _hauteur_, he repulsed Keith, who thereupon

executed a skilful flanking move by appealing to the Vice-Chancellor,

Count Cobenzl. This astute diplomat saw the gain that might accrue

from the British proposals, and assured Keith that his Sovereign had

received them with “very great satisfaction.” Seeing his advantage,

the British envoy warned Cobenzl against the extravagant claims of

Potemkin, and urged him to work hard for a separate armistice with

Turkey, now that “the most upright Court in Europe” offered its good

services for that purpose. He further hinted that the recent treaties

of Prussia with Turkey and Poland were a serious menace to Austria, and

that the British proposal now made to her was “pointed and peremptory.”

Finally they agreed that Kaunitz should so far be humoured as to draft

the official reply, but that Cobenzl should be its interpreter on

behalf of Leopold II. With this odd arrangement Keith had to put up

for some weeks; and in that time the desire for peace grew apace at

Vienna.[859]

Any other way of looking at things was sheer madness. The ablest of

Austrian Generals, Marshal Laudon, warned Leopold of the terrible risks

of a war against both Prussia and Turkey. The Aulic Council also knew

full well that the almost unbounded influence of Prince Potemkin over

the Czarina was ever used against Hapsburg interests, that pampered

favourite having sworn vengeance against all who promoted the erection

of Moldavia and Wallachia, which he coveted for himself,[860] into an

independent principality. This scheme, so fatal to Hapsburg hopes,

played no small part in sundering the two Empires. While, therefore,

Leopold armed, as if for war with Prussia, he was secretly disposed to

treat for a separate peace with the Turks if they would cede to him the

limits of the Peace of Passarowitz, namely, North Servia and Wallachia

as far east as the River Aluta. On the other hand he was resolved (so

he told Keith on 9th May) to fight rather than lose the Netherlands,

and in that case intended to gain the alliance of France by a few

cessions of Belgian land. Still he hoped for a peaceful settlement

through “the wise and kind intervention of England.”[861]

The position was now somewhat as follows: Leopold had staved off a

general revolt in his dominions by soothing concessions or promises,

but he insisted on the continuance of hostilities against Turkey in

order, as he said, to predispose her to peace. To the Brabanters and

Flemings he granted an armistice, but seemed about to send forces

thither as if for the restoration of unlimited power. Meanwhile Sweden

and Turkey continued the unequal fight against Russia, and the Triple

Alliance imposed prudence on Denmark. In this uneasy equipoise England

offered her mediation, not only to the belligerents--Russia, Austria,

Turkey, and Sweden--but also to Prussia, with a view to a general

armistice for the discussion of a settlement.[862]

Nowhere did this proposal meet with a cooler reception than at Berlin.

Accordingly, on 21st May, Pitt and Leeds justified their conduct in a

despatch to Ewart, in which the hand of the Prime Minister is plainly

visible. He declared his earnest desire for the joint intervention of

the three Allies, but explained that it was possible only by adhering

to “that system of moderation to which he [His Majesty] has uniformly

endeavoured to adhere.” England desired to see the power of Sweden and

Turkey maintained, and would secretly advance a subsidy to Gustavus,

but did not feel justified in going to war with the two Empires. If

Prussia drew the sword, England would not only keep France and Denmark

quiet, but would also prevent the march of Austrian troops to the

Netherlands during the armistice there. The earnest hope was expressed

that Prussia would give up the Galician project, and limit her gains

to the restoration of the former boundaries, with a few reasonable

changes. Nothing was further from the wish of England than to sacrifice

the interests of Prussia to those of Austria.[863]

It soon appeared that Pitt and Leeds were prepared to meet the Court

of Berlin half way. On receiving the curt refusal of Catharine to the

British offer of mediation, they admitted that the Prussian plan of

exchanges of territory was not objectionable in itself, if Austria

agreed to it--a large assumption. The arrangement might be that Russia

should retain the Crimea and all her present conquests up to the

Dniester, that is, inclusive of Oczakoff. In that case she must restore

to Sweden the wider Finnish limits of the Peace of Nystadt. As for

Austria, she should gain North Servia and West Wallachia as far as the

River Aluta--the Passarowitz limits; and she ought to retain the whole

of Galicia except the districts about Brody, Belez, and Cracow. As a

reward for these services to Poland, Prussia would gain her heart’s

desire--Danzig, Thorn, and the Wartha territory. These would be “not

sacrifices, but exchanges of territory.”[864]

The British Cabinet would clearly have preferred the _status quo_; but

in this alternative scheme it sketched arrangements highly favourable

to Prussia, Austria, Russia, and Sweden, less so to Poland, but wholly

unfavourable to the Turks. Certainly it corresponded more nearly to

the actual or probable fortune of war, the prospects of the Moslems

being at this time gloomy, those of the Swedes doubtful, but those of

Prussia brilliant. The Sultan, it was hinted, might be soothed by the

guarantee of his possessions and the hope of admission to the Triple

Alliance along with Sweden and Poland.[865] This curious despatch shows

that Pitt and Leeds cared little about Turkey, and that their adhesion

to the _status quo_ was conditioned by a politic opportunism.

A sudden and perplexing change now came over Hapsburg policy. Possibly

Leopold relied on the wheedling assurances of support received from

Catharine. Certain it is that in the middle of June he demanded

“indemnities” for the proposed gains to Poland and Prussia; and his

haughty tone was not lowered by the news of a sharp defeat inflicted

by the Turkish garrison of Giurgevo on the Austrian besiegers. Bared

to the waist, and armed with sword and dagger, they suddenly burst

from the gates in three uncontrollable torrents, which swept the

Imperialists out of trenches and camp, and far on to the plain. In

vain also did Keith warn Cobenzl not to rely on Russia. The Hapsburgs

now seemed bent on dismembering Turkey and defying their northern

neighbours.[866] At the end of June Leopold declared his resolve not to

treat with the rebels in the Netherlands, and to denounce the armistice

with them. Probably this threatening tone was a screen to hide the

weakness of Austria’s position. On all sides her enemies held her fast.

The Hungarians and Flemings firmly demanded their ancient rights; and

persistence in the game of bluff must have led to the break up of her

dominions.

Another curious change also came over the scene on the arrival of

news at Berlin that Potemkin had offered to restore to the Porte all

the Russian conquests of the present war, on condition of peace. This

sudden adoption of the _rôle_ of peacemaker by that ambitious and

masterful favourite has never been fully explained.[867] It may have

been due either to Turkish bribes or to a crafty resolve to checkmate

Hertzberg’s scheme of making Turkey pay for Prussia’s gains. For how

could the professed friend and ally impose on the Porte sacrifices far

greater than those demanded by the enemy? The report that Leopold was

disposed to accept the _status quo_, finding it far less objectionable

than Hertzberg’s plan of exchanges, also gave food for thought.

Accordingly, Frederick William, before opening negotiations with

Austria, decided that this should form the general basis, but with

certain modifications. The Turks were to be warned that, as Prussia’s

armaments had saved them from destruction, they would now do well to

conclude an armistice with Austria and hope for admission to the Triple

Alliance. They should also humour their preserver by giving up Western

Wallachia to Austria, so that she in her turn might cede the outer

districts of Galicia to the Poles, who of course would yield to Prussia

her reward for these troublesome bargainings. As for Great Britain, she

was expected to favour these scientific readjustments because the trade

of the Vistula would then be freed from obstacles, and be opened to

her by favourable commercial treaties. Such was Hertzberg’s final plan

for the preservation of the _status quo_.[868] In order to secure the

acquiescence of the Turks, he had long kept the Porte on tenter-hooks

by delaying the ratification of Dietz’s treaty, and by ordering the

recall of that masterful envoy. On the other hand, the Turks were left

with a glimmer of hope of eventual assistance from Berlin.

Accordingly, Prussian policy seemed about to win a brilliant triumph at

the proposed Conference of Reichenbach, where the Triple Alliance and

Austria (Russia having refused Britain’s mediation) were to thrash out

these questions; and nothing is more curious than to watch the collapse

of Hertzberg’s ingenious web. In order at the outset to settle matters

separately with the Austrian envoy, Spielmann, the King of Prussia

held Ewart aloof because the British Ambassador consistently warned

Hertzberg against the complicated exchanges projected by him. Thereupon

Ewart drew up a Memorial insisting that England must be a principal

party, and that, as both Austria and Prussia had promised to admit the

_status quo_ as the basis of negotiation, the latter could not make

war on the former if she consented to it. In that case, or even if he

(Ewart) were excluded from the Conference, Great Britain must cancel

her engagements to Prussia. He further declared his conviction that

Austria would retract her extreme claims and listen to reason.[869]

This sharp protest had some effect on Hertzberg; but the chief

difficulty was now with Frederick William. At the head of his

splendid army, he seemed to court war. He sent a courier to the Porte

to ratify Dietz’s treaty; and he cut off all communications with

Austria as though hostilities had begun. At the first three sessions

of the Conference (27th-29th June) the Austrian and Prussian envoys

indulged in eager but vague wrangling; but the arrival of news from

Constantinople that the Turks would never concede the Prussian demands

sufficed to depress the bellicose ardour of the monarch. As there was

a serious risk of the Porte coming to terms with Russia and Austria,

he now harked back towards the _status quo_. This move, which the Duke

of Brunswick and Möllendorf heartily supported, gathered strength when

it appeared that Poland would accept none of Hertzberg’s benefits. The

arrival of the British note of 2nd July to the same general effect

ended the last efforts of Frederick William for Danzig and Thorn.[870]

He now gave Hertzberg written orders to abandon at once the whole

scheme of exchanges “since it could only serve to commit him with Great

Britain as well as with the Porte and Poland.” Whence it appears that

Hertzberg’s scientific and philanthropic plans fell through simply

because all the States concerned utterly repudiated them.

The renunciation, however, was made not unskilfully. The Prussian and

British Ministers were careful to keep secret Hertzberg’s change of

front and thus prepared a surprise for Spielmann. That envoy having

put forward some equally untenable schemes of aggrandisement, Ewart

rose and read out a Memorial, drawn up in concert with his Prussian and

Dutch colleagues, demanding an exact restitution of the old boundaries.

In vain did the Hapsburg Minister seek to wriggle out of the dilemma by

betraying Prussia into glaring inconsistency. Prussia stood firm; and

finally he reduced his demands to Orsova and district. Even this cold

comfort was denied him. The Triple Alliance was inexorable. Thereupon

he demanded the dissolution of Prussia’s compacts with Turkey and

Sweden, only to meet with the reply that the Austro-Russian alliance

must first be annulled.[871] Thus Hertzberg, even in the hour of

personal defeat, brought down the Hapsburg schemes in utter collapse;

and the result of the discussions at Reichenbach was the recurrence to

the _status quo_--the very same arrangement which Pitt and Leeds had

throughout declared to be the best of all solutions.

Hertzberg’s annoyance at the destruction of his pet plans must have

diminished when he heard from Vienna that Austria had secretly

empowered Potemkin to make her peace with the Turks on that same

basis. If this be true, each of the rivals was playing a game of bluff

at Reichenbach; and the sight of the two Ancient Pistols eating the

leek in turn must have filled Ewart with a joy such as falls to few

diplomatists. Even as regards the Belgians, the British suggestion

held good. They were to regain their ancient constitution together

with an amnesty for past offences, and a guarantee by the three Allied

Powers.[872] Frederick William, in complimenting Hertzberg on the end

of the negotiations at Reichenbach, added that they must now assure

themselves, through Ewart, of England’s support in imposing the _status

quo_ on Russia.[873] A new chapter in the relations of the Powers and

in the career of Pitt lay enfolded in this suggestion.

* * * * *

Shortly after this happy ending to the disputes in Central Europe

came the news of a settlement of the war in the Baltic. Once again

Gustavus III startled the world. After his sudden and furious attack

on Catharine, and her no less fierce counter stroke, it seemed that

the struggle must be mortal. But many circumstances occurred to allay

their hatred. The aims of the Czarina had always trended southwards;

and the war in Finland was ultimately regarded chiefly as an annoying

diversion from the crusade against the Turks. Moreover the valour of

the Swedes, who closed the doubtful campaign of 1790 with a decided

success at sea, added to the difficulties of campaigning in Finland,

left little hope of conquest in that quarter so long as the Triple

Alliance kept the Danes quiet and subsidized Gustavus. Catharine was

in fact fighting against the forces of nature and the resources of

England, Prussia, and Holland. Gustavus, too, even in the year 1789

felt the sobering influences of poverty. In 1790 they threatened him

with bankruptcy, and at that same time the outlook was far from bright

in Finland. Fortunately, the Russians were not in a position to press

Gustavus hard. But nothing could stave off the advent of bankruptcy

unless the Allies promptly advanced a considerable sum. This they were

not prepared to do, for his unceasing importunities had wearied them

out. The Dutch declined to help in a matter which concerned them but

little, and after long negotiations at Stockholm Great Britain and

Prussia agreed on 31st July to advance £200,000, or only two-thirds of

the minimum named by the King. By the month of August 1790 the treasury

at Stockholm was absolutely empty, so our envoy, Liston, reported.

While Gustavus was chafing at the restraints of poverty, Catharine

held out to him alluring hopes. So soon as she heard of the turn which

affairs were taking at Reichenbach she resolved to end her quarrel

with him in order the better to browbeat Prussia and England. Leopold

had early informed her of his resolve to conclude the Turkish war,

in accordance with the demands of the Allies; and he also warned her

of their intention to deprive Russia of her chief conquest. With a

quickness of insight and a magnanimous resolve instinct with the

highest statesmanship, she resolved to end the war in the Baltic by

offers which would appeal irresistibly to a knight-errant struggling

with debts and worries. She therefore despatched a courier to him in

Finland, holding out virtually the same terms which the Allies had

guaranteed to him.

Gustavus did not long hesitate. It is true that he had the promise of

seventeen British battleships, which were in the Downs ready to sail

to his succour; Prussia also had already sent one half of the subsidy

which he demanded; and he had pledged his troth to the Allies not to

make a separate peace with Russia. That step, however, he now decided

to take; and the impression afterwards prevailed at London and Berlin,

that Russian money had some influence on his decision.[874] However

that may be, he sent Baron Armfelt to treat for peace. Where both

sides were bent on a speedy settlement, difficulties vanished; and

thus on 14th August 1790, the Peace of Werela was signed. It restored

the few gains of territory which the belligerents had made, and gave

permission to the Swedes to buy grain in Russian ports. The treaty

was remarkable chiefly for its omissions. No mention was made of

previous Russo-Swedish treaties, which gave the Empire some right to

interfere in Swedish affairs. As Liston pointed out, the absence of any

such claim was a personal victory for Gustavus; for it increased his

authority and depressed that of the Russophile nobles. The King at once

asserted his prerogative by condemning to death, despite the entreaties

of Liston, the ringleader of the mutiny in Finland and by incarcerating

two others for life.[875] Events were to show that the faction was

cowed but not wholly crushed. The bullet of Ankerström repaid the debt

of vengeance stored up in September 1790.

Equally strange was the abandonment of the Turks by their headstrong

ally. Gustavus had gone to war ostensibly in order to prevent their

overthrow, and now he left them at the mercy of Catharine. It is true

that the signature of the Reichenbach Convention three weeks earlier

ended their conflict with Austria; but the indignation of the Sultan,

the wrath of the King of Prussia, and the quiet contempt of Pitt

manifested the general feeling of the time.[876] Gustavus had salved

his conscience by requiring Catharine to accord lenient treatment to

the Moslems. The Czarina was quite ready to make any promises to this

effect, if they formed no part of the treaty with Sweden. She assured

Gustavus of her desire to renew the Treaty of Kainardji rather than

continue the war; and Gustavus decided, so he informed Liston, “to

trust to the elevated and honourable character of the Empress” on this

point. Liston had his doubts. He ventured to express his surprise at

the generosity of the imperial promises, which implied the restoration

of the Crimea to Turkey, and he remarked that the combined pressure

of Great Britain and Prussia had not availed to extort so great a

boon. Gustavus, however, persisted in his estimate of the character of

Catharine, doubtless because she humoured his latest plan, a crusade

to Paris on behalf of the French monarchy, while she further promised

him the sum of 2,000,000 roubles for his immediate needs.[877] She,

too, sang loudly the praises of the man whom she had sworn to ruin. The

cause of this new-born enthusiasm will appear in due course.

From the Swedish point of view much might be said for the action of

Gustavus. He had rid himself and his land from the irksome tutelage of

Russia: he came out of the war with no loss of territory, the first

Russo-Swedish war of the century of which this can be said; his martial

energy had inspirited his people; and he had overthrown a corrupt and

unpatriotic aristocracy. But, from the standpoint which he took up

at the outset of the war, his conduct had proved him a shifty ally,

who merited the suspicion of his former comrades. Nevertheless he had

played no small part in checking the subversive schemes of Catharine

and Joseph. Thanks to him the Moslems maintained a struggle which

gave time for the army of Prussia and the diplomacy of Pitt to exert

themselves with effect. Had he stood by his promises, the Triple

Alliance would probably have brought Russia to terms favourable to the

interests both of Turkey and of Poland.

Even as matters stood at the end of that year of turmoil, 1790,

Pitt might reflect with something of pride that his efforts had

decisively made for peace and stability. He it was who had been

mainly instrumental in saving Sweden from ruin, the Hapsburg States

from partition, and Prussia from Hertzberg’s policy of exchange and

adventure. Moreover, at that same time British policy won another

success at a point which has always been deemed essential to the

maintenance of equilibrium in Europe.

* * * * *

The recovery of his authority in the Belgic provinces lay near the

heart of Leopold II. His letters and those of Kaunitz show that he

consented to patch matters up at Reichenbach largely in order that he

might be free to subdue Brabant and Flanders. True, he admitted the

mediation of the Triple Alliance in those affairs; but his missive to

Catharine shows that he acquiesced in that convention only in order to

prevent the disruption of his dominions, and that he hoped to evade

some at least of its provisions by means of an “eternal alliance” with

Russia. As will appear in a later chapter, fidelity to Russia involved

a policy of procrastination and trickery towards Turkey, Prussia,

England, and the Belgians. The conduct of Austria in the Eastern

Question helped to checkmate Pitt and secure a diplomatic triumph for

Catharine in the year 1791.

Here we may notice that Leopold and Kaunitz, so soon as the threat

of war from the Prussian side passed away, and their own troops in

Luxemburg were reinforced, took a stern tone with the men of Brabant

and Flanders. At the Conference held at The Hague for the settlement

of those affairs, the Austrian envoy, Count Mercy, refused to extend

the time of the armistice in those provinces, and warned the three

mediating Powers that their services would no longer be recognized

by the Viennese Court. Austrian troops also began to march towards

Brussels. Thereupon Lord Auckland hotly protested against this

high-handed proceeding; and the British Cabinet threatened to send a

large fleet to co-operate with the Prussians and Dutch in preventing

the re-conquest of Belgic lands by Leopold.[878] This threat,

formidable in view of the large armament kept up by England, even after

the end of the Spanish dispute, emanated largely from Pitt himself. For

Ewart, who was then in London on furlough, wrote to Auckland on 28th

November 1790 concerning the opinions of Ministers:

Some difference of opinion existed; but I trust Mr. Pitt will write

to your lordship himself in a satisfactory manner; and you know

better than I do of what consequence the opinions of others are. I

confess I am very uneasy about the explosion this affair must have

produced at Berlin; but I trust the explanations sent from hence

will have given satisfaction both there and with you on the great

principle of making the Emperor adhere--_bon gré_, _mal gré_--to

his engagements for re-establishing the [Belgic] Constitution: and

it appears impossible he should venture in his present situation to

risk the consequences of a refusal.[879]

Pitt’s firmness won the day. Leopold shrank from a contest with the

Allies, and consented to a convention which was signed on 10th December

at The Hague. The ancient customs and privileges of the Pays Bas were

to be restored (including those of the University of Louvain and the

Catholic seminaries), and an amnesty granted to all concerned in the

recent revolt. Leopold promised never to apply the conscription to his

Belgian subjects, and he recognized the guarantee of Great Britain,

Prussia, and Holland for the present arrangements.

The satisfaction of Pitt at this turn of affairs appeared in the order

to place the British navy on a peace footing--a measure which we can

now see to have been premature, in that it encouraged Catharine to

reject the demands of the Allies, and Leopold to display the duplicity

which often marred his actions. The failure of Pitt to coerce the

Czarina will engage our attention later; but we may note here that, on

various pretexts, Leopold refused to ratify the Hague Convention, and

left Belgian affairs in a state which earned the hatred of that people

and the suspicion of British statesmen.[880]

For the present, as the shiftiness of Leopold and the defiance of

Catharine could not be surmised, there seemed to be scarcely a cloud

on the political horizon. By the end of the year 1790, the policy of

Pitt, cautious at the beginning of a crisis, firm during its growth,

and drastic at the climax, had raised Great Britain to a state of

prosperity and power which contrasted sharply with the unending turmoil

in France, the helplessness of Spain, the confusion in the Hapsburg

States, and the sharp financial strain in Russia. In truth, the end

of the year 1790 marks the zenith of Pitt’s career. In seven years,

crowded with complex questions, he had won his way to an eminence

whence he could look down on rivals, both internal and external,

groping their way doubtfully and deviously.

Of these triumphs, those gained over foreign Powers were by far the

most important, except in the eyes of those who look at British history

from the point of view of party strife. To them the events of this

fascinating period will be merely a confused background to the duel

between Pitt and Fox. Those, however, who love to probe the very heart

of events, and to pry into the hidden springs of great movements, which

uplift one nation and depress another, will not soon tire even of the

dry details of diplomacy, when they are seen to be the gauge of human

wisdom and folly, of national greatness and decline.

In the seven years now under survey, England emerged from defeat,

isolation, and discredit which bordered on bankruptcy, until she soared

aloft to a position of prestige in the diplomatic and mercantile

spheres which earned the envy of her formerly triumphant rivals. Strong

in herself, and strengthened by the alliance of Prussia and Holland,

she had to all appearance assured the future of the Continent in a

way that made for peace and quietness. Pitt had helped to compose the

strifes resulting from the reckless innovations of Joseph II, strifes

which, had Hertzberg succeeded, must have led to a general war. The

importance of this work of pacification has escaped notice amidst the

dramatic incidents of the Revolution and Napoleonic Era. For in the

panorama of history, as in its daily diorama, it is the destructive and

sensational which rivets attention, too often to the exclusion of the

healing and upbuilding efforts on which the future of the race depends.

A more searching inquiry, a more faithful description, will reveal the

truth, that a statesman attains a higher success when he averts war

than when he wages a triumphant war.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

A disposition to preserve, and an ability to improve, taken

together, would be my standard of a statesman. Everything else

is vulgar in the conception, perilous in the execution.--BURKE,

_Reflections on the French Revolution_.

Ideas rule the world and its events. A Revolution is the passage of

an idea from theory to practice.--MAZZINI, _The French Revolution

of 1789_.

That the career of Pitt is divided into two very diverse portions by

the French Revolution is almost a commonplace. Macaulay in artful

antitheses has pointed the contrast between the earlier and the later

Pitt; poets, who lacked his art but abounded in gall, descanted on the

perversion of the friend of liberty into the reactionary tyrant; and

Jacobins hissed out his name as that of “the enemy of the human race.”

If we carefully study the attitude of Pitt towards the French

Revolution, we shall find it to be far from inflexible. It changed with

changing events. It was not that of a doctrinaire but of a practical

statesman, who judges things by their outcome. He has often been blamed

for looking at this great movement too much from the standpoint of a

financier; and the charge is perhaps tenable as regards the years of

the Jacobin ascendancy, when the flame kindled by Rousseau shrivelled

up the old order of things. But the ideas prevalent in 1793 differed

utterly from those of 1789, which aimed at reforms of a markedly

practical character.

There was urgent need of them. As is well known, the unprivileged

classes of France were entangled in a network of abuses, social,

fiscal, and agrarian, from which the nobles had refused to set them

free. Despite the goodwill of Louis XVI, the well-meant efforts of

his chief minister, Necker, and the benevolent attempts of many of

the clergy and some nobles, the meshes of Feudalism and the absolute

monarchy lay heavily on the land up to the time of the Assembly of the

States-General at Versailles in May 1789. It is of course a gross

error to assume that the French peasants were more oppressed than those

of other continental lands. Their lot was more favoured than that

of the peasantry of Spain, South Italy, Prussia, and most parts of

Germany, to say nothing of the brutish condition of the serfs of Poland

and Russia.[881] Those of France were more prosperous than Arthur Young

believed them to be. They kept on buying up plot after plot in ways

that illustrate the ceaseless land-hunger of the Celt and his elusive

stubbornness.

But he would be a shallow reasoner who argued that, because the poverty

of the French peasants was less grinding than it appeared, therefore

the old agrarian and fiscal customs were tolerable. The most brilliant

display of what Carlyle called “tongue-fencing” cannot justify a system

which compels millions of men to live behind a perpetual screen of

misery. To notice the case of that worthy peasant whose hospitality

was sought by Rousseau during his first weary tramp to Paris. The

man gave him only the coarsest food until he felt sure of his being

a friend of the people and no spy. Then wine, ham, and an omelette

were forthcoming, and Jacques Bonhomme opened his heart. “He gave me

to understand,” said Rousseau, “that he hid his wine on account of

the duties, and his bread on account of the tax; and that he would be

a lost man if he did not lead people to suppose that he was dying of

hunger. All that he told me about this subject--of which previously I

had not had the slightest idea--made an impression upon me which will

never be effaced. There was the germ of that inextinguishable hatred

which developed later in my heart against the vexations endured by

the poor, and against their oppressors.”[882] Multiply the case of

that hospitable peasant a million times over, and the outbreak of the

Revolution becomes a foregone conclusion. The only surprising thing is

that the _débâcle_ did not come far earlier.

But the old order rarely breaks up until the vernal impulses of hope

begin potently to work. These forces were set in motion, firstly, by

the speculations of philosophers, the criticisms of economists and

the social millennium glowingly sketched by Rousseau. Ideas which

might have been confined to the study, were spread to the street by

the French soldiers who had fought side by side with the soldiers of

Washington, and became on their return the most telling pleaders for

reform. Thus, by a fatal ricochet, the bolt launched by the Bourbons at

England’s Colonial Empire, glanced off and wrecked their own fabric.

The results, however, came slowly. It is often assumed that the

destructive teachings of the Encyclopaedists, the blighting raillery of

Voltaire, and the alluring Utopia of Rousseau would by themselves have

been the ruin of that outworn social order. But it is certain that no

one in France or England, up to the eve of the Revolution, anticipated

a general overturn. Ultimately, no doubt, ideas rule the world; but

their advent to power is gradual, unless the champions of the old order

allow decay to spread. Furthermore, constructors of ingenious theories

about the French Revolution generally forget that nearly all the ideas

given to the world by Voltaire, Montesquieu, and Rousseau, were derived

from the works of Hobbes, Locke, and Bolingbroke. The sage of Ferney

drew his arrows from the quiver of English philosophy, and merely

added the barbs of his own satire; Montesquieu pleaded on behalf of

a balance of political powers like that of England; and all that was

most effective in the “Social Contract” of the Genevese thinker came

from Hobbes and Locke. The _verve_ of Frenchmen gave to these ideas an

application far wider than that which they had gained in their island

home. Here the teachings of Locke formed a prim parterre around the

palace of the King, the heir to the glorious Revolution of 1688. When

transferred to that political forcing-bed, France, they shot up in

baleful harvests.

It is the seed-bed which counts as well as the seed. The harmlessness

of philosophic speculation in England and its destructive activity in

France may be explained ultimately by the condition of the two lands.

In the Island State able Ministers succeeded in popularizing an alien

dynasty and promoting the well-being of the people. Retrenchment and

Reform were not merely topics of conversation in _salons_; they were

carried out in many parts of the administration. This was specially

the case after the peace of 1783, which left France victorious and

England prostrate. There the fruits of victory were not garnered;

and the political fabric, strained by the war, was not underpinned.

Thinking men talked of repair, but, thanks to the weakness of the King

and the favouritism of the Queen, nothing was done. Here the ablest

constructive statesman since the time of Cromwell set about the needed

repairs; and his work, be it remembered, coincided with the joyous

experiments of the Court of Versailles to maintain credit by a display

of luxury. The steady recovery of England and the swift decline of

France may be ascribed in large measure to Pitt and Calonne.

It was against definite and curable ills in the body politic that the

French reformers at first directed their efforts. In May–June 1789 the

ideals of Rousseau remained wholly in the background. The Nobles and

Clergy (as appears in their _cahiers_, or instructions) were, with few

exceptions, ready to give up the immunities from taxation to which they

had too long clung. Those of the Tiers Etat, or Commons, laid stress on

fair taxation, on the abolition of the cramping customs of Feudalism,

whether social, agrarian, or judicial, on the mitigation of service in

the militia, while some even demanded better lighting of the streets.

The Nobles and Clergy asked for a limitation of the powers of the

Crown; and the Commons desired a constitution; but it was to resemble

that of England, save that larger powers were left to the King, the

Ministers being responsible to him alone. Few of the _cahiers_ of the

Commons asked for a fusion of the three Orders in one Assembly; and not

one breathed the thought of a Republic.[883] Their bugbear was the game

laws, not the monarchy; the _taille à miséricorde_ and the _corvées_,

not the Nobles; the burdensome tithes, not the Church.

As at Paris and Versailles, so among the peasants. At first, even in

troublous Franche Comté, their thoughts did not soar beyond taxes and

feudal burdens. Arthur Young calmed a demonstration against himself by

telling excited patriots near Besançon of the differences between taxes

in England and France:

Gentlemen [he said] we have a great number of taxes in England

which you know nothing of in France; but the _tiers état_, the

poor, do not pay them, they are laid on the rich; every window in a

man’s house pays; but if he has no more than six windows, he pays

nothing; a Seigneur, with a great estate, pays the _vingtièmes_

and _taille_, but the little proprietor of a garden pays nothing;

the rich, for their horses, their carriages, their servants, and

even for liberty to kill their own partridges; but the poor farmer

nothing of all this; and what is more, we have in England a tax

paid by the rich for the relief of the poor.[884]

Who would not sympathize with these people! They were staggering under

burdens piled up by a monarchy absolute in name, but powerless in all

that made for reform and retrenchment. Where Louis XVI by his weakness,

and the Queen by her caprice, had failed to right the wrong, the nation

was bent in succeeding; and it is highly probable that, if the King had

shown more tact in dealing with the Commons, and they a little more

patience, the popular movement might have progressed peacefully for

a decade, with wholly beneficent results. We, who know how one event

led on to another, find it difficult to escape from the attractive but

fallacious conclusion that the sequence was inevitable. The mind loves

to forge connecting links, and then to conclude that the chain could

not have been made otherwise--a quite gratuitous assumption. At several

points it was the exceptional which happened. A perusal of the letters

of intelligent onlookers shows that they foresaw, and most naturally,

a wholly different outcome of events. They looked to see a few drastic

reforms, a time of unrest, and then the remodelling of the monarchy _à

l’Anglaise_.

As for Pitt, he waited to see whither all this would tend. His attitude

towards France in the early part of 1789 was distinctly friendly. He

assured the French ambassador, M. de Luzerne, that France and England

had the same principles, namely, not to aggrandize themselves and to

oppose aggrandizement in others, and he added that he hoped for the

assistance of France to assist Sweden and Turkey against the powerful

Empires that were seeking their overthrow.

This declaration bespoke his fixed resolve to save Europe from the

ambitious schemes of the other monarchs; and, now that France accepted

Anglo-Prussian ascendancy in Holland and abandoned her forward policy

in the Orient, she might serve to redress the balance of power. Such

views were consonant with Pitt’s lofty aim of winning over “the natural

enemy.” In truth, they were the outcome of common sense, even of

self-interest. The suspicion and dislike were all on the side of the

Court of Versailles. Montmorin and Luzerne were haunted by the fear

that Pitt meant to pour oil on the smouldering discontent in France,

and shrivel up the Bourbon power. There is not a shred of evidence

that he ever entertained these notions. That they were harboured

at Versailles merely showed that a Power which has rent another in

twain cannot believe in the goodwill of the injured nation; and this

suspicion was one of the many causes begetting irritation and alarm

in Paris. On the other hand it must be remembered, as one of Pitt’s

greatest services, that his protests against the American War and his

subsequent efforts for an _entente cordiale_ with France, had so far

effaced resentment on this side of the Channel, that the strivings

of Frenchmen after political freedom and social equality aroused the

deepest interest. The majority of our people sympathized with Fox,

when, on hearing of the fall of the Bastille, he exclaimed: “How

much is this the greatest and best event that has happened in the

world.”[885]

Official prudence or natural reserve kept Pitt silent on these affairs,

and on the horrors of the ensuing Jacquerie, which speedily cooled

the first transports of Britons. We know, however, that he must have

viewed the financial collapse of France with secret satisfaction; for

in August–September 1788 he wrote to Grenville in terms which implied

that the recovery of the credit of France, then expected under the

fostering care of Necker, would be a very serious blow, implying as it

did the resumption of her aggressive schemes in the East.[886] Now,

however, the disorders in France aroused his pity; and on 14th July,

before he can have heard of the fall of the Bastille, he wrote to his

mother that France was fast becoming “an object of compassion even to

a rival.”[887] There is no sign that he feared the spread of democratic

opinions into England. The monarchy had never been so popular as since

the mental malady of the King. On the whole, then, Pitt surveyed the

first events of the Revolution from the standpoint of a diplomatist

and financier. France seemed to him doomed to a time of chastening and

weakness which might upset the uneasy equilibrium of Europe.

Already he had come into touch with the French people at a very

sensitive point, and in a way which illustrated their eager expectancy

and his cool and calculating character. On 25th June Necker sent to him

an urgent appeal begging that he would sanction the export of flour

from Great Britain to France in order to make good the scarcity which

there prevailed. If the request must come before Parliament, he trusted

that the boon would speedily be granted by a generous nation, and by a

statesman “whose rare virtues, sublime talents, and superb renown have

long rivetted my admiration and that of all Europe.”[888]

* * * * *

In sharp contrast to this personal and effusive request was the cold

and correct demeanour of Pitt. He sent the following formal reply, not

to Necker, but to the French ambassador, the Marquis de Luzerne:

Downing Street, _3rd July, 1789_.[889]

Mr. Pitt presents his compliments to the Marquis de Luzerne. He

has felt the strongest desire to be able to recommend sending

the supply of flour desir’d by Mons^r Necker and had hopes from

the information at first given him by Mr. Wilson that it would

be practicable; but, having afterwards received some contrary

information, he thought it necessary that the subject should be

examined by the Committee of Council for the Affairs of Trade,

whose enquiry was not clos’d till this morning. Mr. Pitt has now

the mortification to find that, according to the accounts of the

persons most conversant with the corn trade, the present supply in

this country compar’d with the demand, and the precarious prospect

of the harvest render it impossible to propose to Parliament to

authorize any exportation.