1802.
Disarmament and retrenchment—Cheaper provisions—King applied to
Parliament to pay his debts—The Prince of Wales claimed the revenues
of the Duchy of Cornwall—Parliament pays the King’s debts—Abolition
of the Income Tax—Signature of the Treaty of Amiens—Conditions of
the Treaty—Rush of the English to France—Visit of C. J. Fox to
Napoleon—Liberation of the French prisoners of war.
THE year 1802 opened somewhat dully, or, rather, with a want of
sensational news. Disarmament, and retrenchment, were being carried
out with a swiftness that seemed somewhat incautious, and premature.
But the people had been sorely taxed, and it was but fitting that the
burden should be removed at the earliest opportunity.
Provisions fell to something like a normal price, directly the
Preliminaries of Peace were signed, and a large trade in all sorts of
eatables was soon organized with France, where prices ruled much lower
than at home. All kinds of poultry and pigs, although neither were in
prime condition, could be imported at a much lower rate than they could
be obtained from the country.
Woodward gives an amusing sketch of John Bull enjoying the good things
of this life, on a scale, and at a cost, to which he had long been a
stranger.
[Illustration: JOHN BULL AND HIS FRIENDS COMMEMORATING THE PEACE.]
On the 10th of February the Right Hon. Charles Abbot, afterwards Lord
Colchester, was elected Speaker to the House of Commons, in the room
of the Right Hon. John Nutford, who had accepted the position of
Chancellor of Ireland; and, on the 15th of February, Mr. Chancellor
Addington presented the following message from the King:
“GEORGE R.
“His Majesty feels great concern in acquainting the House of Commons
that the provision made by Parliament for defraying the expenses
of his household, and civil government, has been found inadequate
to their support. A considerable debt has, in consequence, been
unavoidably incurred, an account of which he has ordered to be laid
before this House. His Majesty relies with confidence on the zeal
and affection of his faithful Commons, that they will take the same
into their early consideration, and adopt such measures as the
circumstances may appear to them to require.
“G. R.”
This message was referred to a Committee of Supply, and, at the same
time, the Prince of Wales, not to be behind his father, made a claim
for the amount of the revenues of the Duchy of Cornwall received during
his minority, and applied to the use of the Civil List. The King had
“overrun the constable” at an alarming rate. He only wanted about a
million sterling, and this state of indebtedness was attributed to many
causes. The dearness of provisions, &c., during the last three years;
the extra expenses caused by the younger princes and princesses growing
up, which ran the Queen into debt; the marriage of the Prince of Wales,
the support of the Princess Charlotte, pensions to late ministers to
foreign courts, &c. In the long run John Bull put his hands in his
pockets, and paid the bill, £990,053—all which had been contracted
since the passing of Burke’s Bill on the subject, and exclusive of the
sums paid in 1784 and 1786. The Prince of Wales was not so lucky with
his application at this time. The Chancellor of the Exchequer could not
stand two heavy pulls upon his purse.
Well, as a sop, John got rid of the Income Tax. Like the “Old Man of
the Sea,” which we have to carry on our shoulders, it was originally
proposed as a war tax; but, unlike ours, faith was kept with the
people, and, with the cessation of the war, the tax died. A very
amusing satirical print, given here, is by Woodward, and shows the
departure of the Income Tax, who is flying away, saying, “Farewell,
Johnny—remember me!” John Bull, relieved of his presence, growls out:
“Yes, d—n thee; I have reason to remember thee; but good-bye. So
thou’rt off; I don’t care; go where thou wilt, thou’lt be a plague in
the land thou lightest on.”
[Illustration: JOHN BULL AND HIS FAMILY TAKING LEAVE OF THE INCOME TAX.]
The negotiations for peace hung fire for a long time. Preliminaries
were ratified, as we have seen, in October, but the old year died, and
the new year was born, and still no sign to the public that the peace
was a real fact; they could only see that a large French armament had
been sent to the West Indies; nor was it until the 29th of March, that
the citizens of London heard the joyful news, from the following letter
to the Lord Mayor:
“_Downing Street, March 29, 1802._
“MY LORD,
“Mr. Moore, assistant secretary to Marquis Cornwallis, has just
arrived with the definite treaty of peace, which was signed at
Amiens, on the 27th of this month, by His Majesty’s plenipotentiary,
and the plenipotentiaries of France, Spain, and the Batavian
Republic.[14]
“I have the honour, &c.,
“HAWKESBURY.”
It must have been a great relief to the public mind, as the armistice
was a somewhat expensive arrangement, costing, it is said, a million
sterling per week! One of the causes, said to be the principal, of
the delay in coming to an understanding, was the question respecting
the payment of the expenses, incurred by our Government, for the
maintenance of the French prisoners of war. They amounted to upwards of
two millions sterling, and a proposal was made by England, but rejected
on the part of the French, to accept the island of Tobago as an
equivalent. It was afterwards left to be paid as quickly as convenient.
There were no regular illuminations on the arrival of this news, but of
course many patriotic individuals vented their feelings in oil lamps,
candles, and transparencies.
But what were the conditions of this Peace? The English restored
“to the French Republic and its Allies, viz., His Catholic Majesty,
and the Batavian Republic, all the possessions, and colonies, which
respectively belonged to them, and which have been either occupied,
or conquered, by the British forces during the course of the present
war, with the exception of the island of Trinidad, and of the Dutch
possessions in the island of Ceylon.”
“The Port of the Cape of Good Hope remains to the Batavian Republic in
full sovereignty, in the same manner as it did previous to the war.
The ships of every kind belonging to the other contracting parties,
shall be allowed to enter the said port, and there to purchase what
provisions they may stand in need of, as heretofore, without being
liable to pay any other imports than such as the Batavian Republic
compels the ships of its own nation to pay.”
A portion of Portuguese Guiana was ceded to the French in order to
rectify the boundaries; the territories, possessions, and rights of the
Sublime Porte were to be maintained as formerly.
The islands of Malta, Goza, and Comino were to be restored to the Order
of St. John of Jerusalem, and the forces of His Britannic Majesty
were to evacuate Malta, and its dependencies, within three months of
the exchange of the ratifications, or sooner, if possible. Half the
garrison should be Maltese, and the other half (2,000 men) should
be furnished, for a time, by the King of Naples; and France, Great
Britain, Austria, Spain, Russia, and Prussia were the guarantors of its
independence.
The French troops were to evacuate the kingdom of Naples, and the Roman
States, and the English troops were to evacuate Porto Ferrajo, and all
the ports, and islands they occupied in the Mediterranean, and the
Adriatic.
The Prince of Orange was to have adequate compensation for the losses
suffered by him in Holland, in consequence of the revolution; and
persons accused of murder, forgery, or fraudulent bankruptcy, were to
be given up to their respective Powers, on demand, accompanied by proof.
This, then, was the Treaty of Amiens, in which France certainly came
best off; and so the popular voice seemed to think, although thankful
for any cessation of the constant drain of men and treasure, combined
with privations at home, and loss of trade.
A satirical print by Ansell, clearly shows this feeling.
Peace greets John Bull with—“Here I am, Johnny, arrived at last! Like
to have been lost at sea; poles of the chaise broke at Dover, springs
of the next chaise gave way at Canterbury, and one of the horses fell,
and overturned the other chaise at Dartford. Ah, Johnny! I wonder we
have ever arrived at all.” John Bull replies, “Odds niggins!!! Why, is
that you? have I been waiting all this time to be blessed with such
a poor ugly crippled _piece_? and all you have with you is a quid of
tobacco and some allspice.” Mrs. Bull asks her husband, “Why, John, be
this she you have been talking so much about?”
[Illustration: LONG-EXPECTED COME AT LAST; OR, JOHN BULL DISAPPOINTED
AT HIS CRIPPLED VISITOR.]
There was a wild rush of English over to France, and the French
returned the compliment, but not in the same ratio; the Continental
stomach having then, the same antipathy to the passage of the Channel,
as now. Still there was an attempt at an _entente cordiale_, which
was well exemplified by a contemporary artist (unknown), in a picture
called “A Peaceable Pipe, or a Consular Visit to John Bull.” Napoleon
is having a pleasant chat with his old foe, smoking, and drinking
beer with him. John Bull toasts his guest. “Here’s to you, Master
Boney Party. Come, take another whiff, my hearty.” Napoleon accepts
the invitation with, “Je vous remercie, John Bull; I think I’ll take
another pull.” Whilst the gentlemen are thus pleasantly engaged, Mrs.
Bull works hard mending John’s too well-worn breeches; and as she
works, she says, “Now we are at peace, if my husband does take a drop
extraordinary, I don’t much mind; but when he was at war, he was always
grumbling. Bless me, how tiresome these old breeches are to mend; no
wonder he wore them out, for he had always his hands in his pockets for
something or other.”
Among the other Englishmen who took advantage of the peace to go over
to France, was Charles James Fox, who, immediately after his election
for Westminster, on July 15, 1802, started off for Paris, professedly
to search the archives there, for material for his introductory
chapter to “A History of the Early Part of the Reign of James the
Second.” A history of this trip was afterwards written by his private
secretary, Mr. Trotter.[15] He and Mrs. Fox, who was now first publicly
acknowledged as his wife, were introduced to Napoleon; a subject most
humorously treated by Gillray, in his “Introduction of Citizen Volpone
and his Suite at Paris.” Napoleon, in full Court costume, and wearing
an enormous cocked hat and feathers, is seated on a chair, which is
emblematical of his sovereignty of the world, and is surrounded by a
Mameluke guard. Fox and his wife, both enormously fat, yet bowing and
curtseying respectively, with infinite grace, are being introduced by
O’Connor, who had, aforetime, been in treaty with the French Government
for the invasion of Ireland. Erskine, in full forensic costume,
bows, with his hand on his heart; and Lord and Lady Holland help to
fill the picture. But the real account of his reception was very
different (_teste_ Mr. Trotter). “We reached the interior apartment,
where Bonaparte, First Consul, surrounded by his generals, ministers,
senators, and officers, stood between the second and third Consuls,
Le Brun and Cambacérès, in the centre of a semicircle, at the head of
the room! The numerous assemblage from the _Salle des Ambassadeurs_,
formed into another semicircle, joined themselves to that, at the head
of which stood the First Consul.... The moment the circle was formed,
Bonaparte began with the Spanish Ambassador, then went to the American,
with whom he spoke some time, and so on, performing his part with ease,
and very agreeably, until he came to the English Ambassador, who,
after the presentation of some English noblemen, announced to him Mr.
Fox. He was a great deal flurried, and, after indicating considerable
emotion, very rapidly said, ‘Ah, Mr. Fox! I have heard with pleasure of
your arrival, I have desired much to see you; I have long admired in
you the orator and friend of his country, who, in constantly raising
his voice for peace, consulted that country’s best interests, those of
Europe, and of the human race. The two great nations of Europe require
peace; they have nothing to fear; they ought to understand and value
one another. In you, Mr. Fox, I see, with much satisfaction, that great
statesman who recommended peace, because there was no just object of
war; who saw Europe desolated to no purpose, and who struggled for
its relief.’ Mr. Fox said little, or rather nothing, in reply—to a
complimentary address to himself, he always found invincible repugnance
to answer—nor did he bestow one word of admiration or applause upon
the extraordinary and elevated character who addressed him. A few
questions and answers relative to Mr. Fox’s tour, terminated the
interview.”
According to Article II. of the Treaty of Amiens, “All the prisoners
made on one side and the other, as well by land as by sea, and the
hostages carried off, or delivered up, during the war, and up to the
present day, shall be restored, without ransom, in six weeks at the
latest, to be reckoned from the day on which the ratifications of the
present treaty are exchanged, and on paying the debts which they shall
have contracted during their captivity.”
The invaluable M. Otto wrote the _detenus_ a letter, in which, whilst
congratulating them, he exhorted them to subdue all spirit of party,
if, indeed, it had not already been effected by their years of
suffering, and captivity, and cautioned them as to their behaviour on
their return, telling them of the change for the better which they
would not fail to observe. Glad, indeed, must these poor captives have
been at the prospect of once more setting foot on _La belle France_;
and that the English Government made no unnecessary delay in helping
them to the consummation of their wishes, is evident, for, on the
10th of April, upwards of 1,000 of them were liberated from the depôt
at Norman Cross, preparatory to their being conveyed to Dunkirk. The
others—at least, all those who were willing and able to go—soon left
England.
“Several of the French prisoners who embarked at Plymouth on Thursday,
on board the coasters and trawl boats, having liberty to come on shore
until morning, thought the indulgence so sweet, that they stayed up
the whole night. This morning, at three o’clock, they sung in very
good style through the different streets, the ‘Marseillais Hymn,’
the ‘Austrian Retreat,’ with several other popular French songs, and
concluded with the popular British song of ‘God save the King,’ in very
good English.”—_Morning Herald_, April 19, 1802.
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