The Influence of Sea Power upon the French Revolution and Empire 1793-1812, Vol II

So again, in the wars of the French Revolution, as long as Holland remained in alliance with Great Britain, that country was the centre from which foreign goods poured into France and the continent of Europe; but when the United Provinces had been overrun by French troops, and a revolution in their government had attached them to the French policy, commerce, driven from their now blockaded coast, sought another depot farther to the eastward, and found it in Bremen, Hamburg, and some other German ports,—of which, however, Hamburg was by far the most favored and prosperous. Through Hamburg the coffee and sugar of the West Indies, the manufactured goods of Great Britain, the food products of America, the luxuries of the East, poured into Germany; and also into France, despite the prohibitive measures of French governments. An indication of this change in the course of commerce is found in the fact that the imports from Great Britain alone into Germany, which amounted to £2,000,000 in 1792, had in 1796, the year after Holland became allied to France, increased to £8,000,000, although the purchasing power of Germany had meanwhile diminished. In the same time the tonnage annually clearing from Great Britain to Germany increased from 120,000 to 266,000. Similar results, on a much smaller scale, were seen at Gibraltar when Spain attempted to prevent British goods entering her own ports; and again at Malta, when the possession of that island offered British commerce a foothold far advanced in the Central Mediterranean. Somewhat similar, likewise, were the advantages of the islands of Ceylon and Trinidad with reference to the mainlands of India and South America, which gave to them a particular commercial as well as strategic value, and led England to accept them as her compensations at the Peace of Amiens.

In such cases the temporary commercial centre not only reaps the profits of the broker, but all classes of its community benefit by the increase of employments, of floating capital, and of floating population. Precisely analogous to these was the office which her geographical position and unrivalled control of the sea enabled Great Britain to discharge toward the European world during the French Revolution. Her maritime power and commercial spirit, the gradual though rapid growth of past generations, enabled her at once to become the warehouse where accumulated the products of all nations and of all seas then open to commerce, and whence they were transhipped to the tempest-tossed and war-torn Continent. So also her watery bulwarks, traversed in every direction by her powerful navy, secured her peaceful working as the great manufactory of Europe, and thus fostered an immense development of her industries, which had become more than ever necessary to the welfare of the world, since those of Holland and France were either crippled for want of raw material or isolated by their impotence at sea. Great Britain impeded the direct admission of tropical products to the Continent; but their re-exportation from her own ports and the export of British manufactures became the two chief sources of her singular prosperity. The favorable reaction produced by this concentration within her borders of so much of the commercial machinery of the civilized world, is evident. Activities of every kind sprang up on all sides, increasing the employment of labor and the circulation of capital; and, while it is vain to contend that war increases the prosperity of nations, it must be conceded that such a state of things as we have depicted affords much compensation to the nation concerned, and may even increase its proportionate prosperity, when compared with that of its less fortunate enemies. To quote the words of Lanfrey: "The English nation had never at any time shown more reliance upon its own resources than when Pitt, in 1801, retired after eight years of war. The people bore without difficulty the heavy taxes which the war imposed upon them, and what was more astonishing still, Pitt had found no opposition in Parliament to his last Budget. The immense increase in the industrial prosperity of England triumphantly refuted the predictions of her enemies, as well as the complaints of alarmists. As the effect of every fresh declaration of war upon the Continent had been to diminish competition in the great market of the world and to throw into her hands the navies and colonies of her adversaries, the English had begun to look upon the loan of millions and the subsidies as so much premium paid for the development of their own resources." 478

It is not, therefore, merely as a weapon of war in the hands of the ministry that the sea power of Great Britain is to be regarded; nor yet only as the fruitful mother of subsidies, upon whose bountiful breasts hung the impoverished and struggling nations of the Continent. Great as were its value and importance in these respects, it had yet a nobler and more vital function. Upon it depended the vigorous life of the great nation which supplied the only power of motive capable of coping with the demoniac energy that then possessed the spirit of the French. Great Britain, though herself unconscious of the future, was in the case of a man called upon to undergo a prolonged period of trial, exposure, and anxiety, severely testing all his powers, physical and mental. However sound the constitution, it is essential that, when thus assailed by adverse external influences, all its vital processes should be protected, nourished, and even stimulated, or else the bodily energies will flag, fail, and collapse. This protection, this nourishment, the maritime power ministered to the body politic of the state. Despite the undeniable sufferings of large classes among the people, the ministry could boast from year to year the general prosperity of the realm, the flourishing condition of commerce, the progressive preponderance and control of the sea exerted by the navy, and a series of naval victories of unprecedented brilliancy, which stimulated to the highest degree the enthusiasm of the nation. Such a combination of encouraging circumstances maintained in full tension the springs of self-confidence and moral energy, in the absence of which no merely material powers or resources are capable of effective action.

By the natural and almost unaided working of its intrinsic faculties, the sea power of Great Britain sustained the material forces of the state and the spirit of the people. From these we turn to the consideration of the more striking, though not more profound, effects produced by the use made of this maritime power by the British ministry—to the policy and naval strategy of the war—in curtailing the resources and sapping the strength of the enemy, and in compelling him to efforts at once inevitable, exhausting, and fruitless. In undertaking this examination, it will be first necessary to ascertain what were the objects the ministers proposed to achieve by the struggle in which they had embarked the nation. If these are found to agree, in the main, with the aim they should have kept before them, through realizing the character of the general contest, and Great Britain's proper part in it, the policy of the war will be justified. It will then only remain to consider how well the general direction given to the naval and military operations furthered the objects proposed,—whether the strategy of the war was well adapted to bring its policy to a successful issue.

The sudden revulsion of feeling in the British ministry, consequent upon the decrees of November 19 and December 15, has been mentioned. It was then realized that not only the internal quiet of Great Britain was endangered, but that the political stability of Europe was threatened by a Power whose volcanic energy could not be ignored. There was not merely the fear that extreme democratic principles would be transmitted from the masses of one country to those of another still unprepared to receive them. To say that the British Government went to war merely to divert the interest of the lower orders from internal to foreign relations is not a fair statement of the case. The danger that threatened England and Europe was the violent intervention of the French in the internal affairs of every country to which their armies could penetrate. This purpose was avowed by the Convention, and how sincerely was proved by the history of many an adjoining state within the next few years. Although the worst excesses of the Revolution had not yet occurred, enough had been done to indicate its tendencies, and to show that, where it prevailed, security of life, property, and social order disappeared.

Security, therefore, was from the first alleged as the great object of the war by the Prime Minister, who undoubtedly was the exponent of the government, as truly as he was the foremost man then in England. In his speech of February 12, 1793, upon the French declaration of war, he returns again and again to this word, as the key-note to the British policy.

"Not only had his Majesty entered into no treaty, but no step even had been taken, and no engagement formed on the part of our Government, to interfere in the internal affairs of France, or attempt to dictate to them any form of constitution. I declare that the whole of the interference of Great Britain has been with the general view of seeing if it was possible, either by our own exertions or in concert with any other Power, to repress this French system of aggrandizement and aggression, with the view of seeing whether we could not re-establish the blessings of peace; whether we could not, either separately or jointly with other Powers, provide for the security of our own country and the general security of Europe."

It is only fair to Pitt to compare the thought underlying this speech of February 12, 1793, with that of February 17, 1792, already quoted, in order that there may be realized the identity of principle and conviction which moved him under circumstances so diverse. This position he continually maintained from year to year; nor did he, when taunted by the leader of the Opposition with lack of definiteness in the objects of the war, suffer himself to be goaded into any other statement of policy. It was in vain that the repeated jeer was uttered, that the ministry did not know what they were driving at; and when the constant recurrence of allied disasters and French successes on the Continent, preceding as they did the most brilliant successes of the British navy, made yet more poignant the exultation of the Opposition, Pitt still refused, with all his father's proud tenacity, to give any other account of his course than that he sought security—peace, yes, but only a secure peace. To define precisely what success on the part of Great Britain, or what reverses suffered by France, would constitute the required security, was to prophesy the uncertain fortunes of war, and the endurance of that strange madness which was impelling the French nation. When a man finds his interests or his life threatened by the persistent malice of a powerful enemy, he can make no reply to the question, how long or how far he will carry his resistance, except this: that when the enemy's power of injury is effectually curtailed, or when his own power of resistance ends, then, and then only, will he cease to fight. It fell to Pitt's lot, at one period of the war, to be brought face to face with the latter alternative; but the course of the French Government—of the Directory as well as of Napoleon—justified fully the presentiment of the British Government in 1793, that not until the aggressive power of France was brought within bounds, could Europe know lasting peace. Peace could not be hoped from the temper of the French rulers.

Whatever shape, therefore, the military operations might assume, the object of the war in the apprehension of the British minister was strictly defensive; just as the French invasion of the Austrian Netherlands, though an offensive military operation, was, in its inception, part of a strictly defensive war. To the larger and more general motive of her own security and that of Europe, there was also added, for Great Britain, the special treaty obligation to assist Holland in a defensive struggle,—an obligation which was brought into play by the French declaration of war against the United Provinces. It is necessary to note the two causes of war, because the relation of Great Britain to the wider conflict was different from that which she bore to the defence of Holland, and entailed a different line of action. The treaty called upon her to contribute a certain quota of land forces, and the character of her particular interest, in both the Netherlands and Holland, made it expedient and proper that British troops should enter the field for their protection; but after the disastrous campaign of 1794 had subdued Holland to France, and a revolution in its government had changed its relations to Great Britain, the troops were withdrawn, and did not again appear on the Continent until 1799, when favorable circumstances induced a second, but futile attempt to rescue the Provinces from French domination.

The part borne by the troops of England in the earlier continental campaigns was therefore but an episode, depending upon her special relations to Holland, and terminated by the subjection of that country to France. What was the relation of Great Britain to the wider struggle, in which, at the beginning, almost all the nations of the Continent were engaged? What functions could she discharge towards curtailing the power of France, and so restoring to Europe that security without which peace is but a vain word? Upon the answers to these questions should depend the criticism of the use made by the British ministry of the nation's power. To condemn details without having first considered what should be the leading outlines of a great design, is as unsafe as it is unfair; for steps indefensible in themselves may be justified by the exigencies of the general policy. It is not to be expected that, in a war of such vast proportions and involving such unprecedented conditions, serious mistakes of detail should not be made; but, if the great measures adopted bear a due proportion both to the powers possessed and to the end aimed at, then the government will have fulfilled all that can be demanded of it.

The sea power which constituted the chief strength of Great Britain furnished her with two principal weapons: naval superiority, which the course of the war soon developed into supremacy, and money. The traditional policy of a strong party in the state, largely represented in the governing classes, was bitterly adverse to a standing army; and the force actually maintained was to a great extent neutralized by the character of the empire, which, involving possessions scattered over all quarters of the globe, necessitated dispersion instead of concentrated action. The embarrassment thus caused was increased by the dangerously discontented condition of Ireland, involving the maintenance of a considerable permanent force there, with the possibility of having to augment it. Furthermore, the thriving condition of the manufactures and commerce of England, protected from the storm of war ravaging the Continent and of such vital importance to the general welfare of Europe, made it inexpedient to withdraw her people from the ranks of labor, at a time when the working classes of other nations were being drained for the armies.

For these reasons great operations on land, or a conspicuous share in the continental campaigns became, if not absolutely impossible to Great Britain, at least clearly unadvisable. It was economically wiser, for the purposes of the coalitions, that she should be controlling the sea, supporting the commerce of the world, making money and managing the finances, while other states, whose industries were exposed to the blast of war and who had not the same commercial aptitudes, did the fighting on land. This defines substantially the course followed by the ministry of the day, for which the younger Pitt has been most severely criticised. It is perhaps impossible to find any historian of repute who will defend the general military conduct of the Cabinet at whose head he stood; while the brilliant successes of the Seven Years' War have offered a ready text for disparagers, from his contemporary, Fox, to those of our own day, to draw a mortifying contrast between his father and himself. Yet what were the military enterprises and achievements of the justly famed Seven Years' War? They were enterprises of exactly the same character as those undertaken in the French Revolutionary War, and as those which, it may be added, are so constant a feature of English history, whether during times of European peace or of European war, that it may reasonably be suspected there is, in the conditions of the British empire, some constant cause for their recurrence. Like the petty wars which occur every few years in our generation, they were mixed military and naval expeditions, based upon the fleet and upon the control of the sea, scattered in all quarters of the world, employing bodies of troops small when compared to the size of continental armies, and therefore for the most part bearing, individually, the character of secondary operations, however much they may have conduced to a great common end.

It is an ungracious task to institute comparisons; but, if just conclusions are to be reached, the real facts of a case must be set forth. The elder Pitt had not to contend with such a navy as confronted his son at the outbreak of the French Revolution. The French navy, as is avowed by its historians, had received great and judicious care throughout the reign of Louis XVI.; it had a large and splendid body of ships in 1793; it enjoyed the proud confidence of the nation, consequent upon its actions in the war of 1778; and, although its efficiency was fatally affected by the legislation of the National Assembly and by the emigrations, it was still an imposing force. Not until years of neglect had passed over it, and the fatal Battle of the Nile had been fought, did its character and weight sink to the same relative insignificance that the elder Pitt encountered in the Seven Years' War. The elder, like the younger, shaped his system of war upon the control of the sea, upon the acquisition of colonies, upon subsidizing allies upon the Continent, and, as main outlines of policy, these were undoubtedly correct; but the former had in his favor heavy odds in the weak condition of the French navy, and in having on his side the great military genius of the age. On the side of the elder Pitt fought Frederick the Great, against a coalition, numerically overwhelming indeed, but half-hearted, ill-knit, and led by generals far inferior to their great opponent, often mere creatures of the most corrupt Court favor. Against the younger Pitt arose a greater than Frederick, at the very moment of triumph, when the combined effects of the sea power of England, of the armies of Austria, and of the incompetency of the Directory had brought the Revolution "to bay,"—to use the words of a distinguished French naval officer and student. 479 In 1796 and in 1799 Bonaparte, and Bonaparte alone, rescued from impending destruction—not France, for France was not the object of Pitt's efforts—but that "system of aggrandizement and aggression" to which France was then committed.

The elder Pitt saw his work completed, though by weaker hands; the younger struggled on through disappointment after disappointment, and died under the shadow of Austerlitz, worn out in heart and mind by the dangers of his country. Contemporaries and men of later generations, British and foreigners, have agreed in attributing to him the leading part in the coalitions against Revolutionary France; but they have failed to admit the specific difficulties under which he labored, and how nearly he achieved success. It is easy to indulge in criticism of details, and to set one undertaking against another; to show the failures of expeditions landed on the French coast in the Seven Years' War; to point out that Wolfe's conquest of Canada in 1759, by freeing the American colonies from their fear of France, promoted their revolt against Great Britain, while Nelson in 1798, and Abercromby in 1801, saved Egypt, and probably India also, to England; to say that the elder Pitt did not regain Minorca by arms, while the younger secured both it and Malta. Martinique fell to the arms of both; the Cape of Good Hope, Ceylon, Trinidad, prizes of the later war, may fairly be set against Havana and Manila of the earlier. In India, Clive, the first and greatest of British Indian heroes, served the elder Pitt; yet before the arms of the younger fell Mysore, the realm of Hyder Ali and Tippoo Saib, the most formidable enemies that Britain had yet met in the Peninsula. Such comparisons and arguments are endless; partly because there is much to be said on both sides, but chiefly because they concern details only, and do not touch the root of the matter.

The objects of the two Pitts were different, for the circumstances of their generations were essentially diverse. The task of the one was to extend and establish the great colonial system, whose foundations had been laid by previous generations, and to sustain in Europe the balance of power between rival, but orderly, governments; that of the other was to steady the social order and political framework of Great Britain herself, and of Europe, against a hurricane which threatened to tear up both by the roots. Each in his day, to strengthen his country and to weaken the enemy, pursued the same great line of policy, which in the one age and in the other fitted the situation of Great Britain. To extend and consolidate her sea power; to lay the world under contribution to her commerce; to control the sea by an all-powerful navy; to extend her colonial empire by conquest, thereby increasing her resources, multiplying her naval bases, and depriving her enemy alike of revenues and of points whence he could trouble English shipping; to embarrass the great enemy, France, by subsidizing continental allies,—such was the policy of both the Pitts; such, alike in the Revolution and in the Seven Years' War, was the policy imposed by a due recognition, not only of the special strength of Great Britain, but of her position in relation to the general struggle. Frederick in the one case, Austria in the other, needed the money, which only the sustained commercial prosperity of England could supply. The difference in the actual careers run by the two statesmen is that the son had to meet far greater obstacles than the father, and that, so far as the part of Great Britain herself was concerned, he achieved equal, if not greater, successes. The father had to contend, not against the mighty fury of the French Revolution, but against the courtier generals and the merely professional soldiery of Louis XV. and his mistresses; he had an allied America; he met no mutiny of the British fleet; he was threatened by no coalition of the Baltic Powers; he encountered no Bonaparte. It was the boast of British merchants that under his rule "Commerce was united to and made to grow by war;" but British commerce increased during the French Revolution even more than it did in the earlier war, and the growth of the British navy, in material strength and in military glory, under the son, exceeded that under the father.

In history the personality of the elder statesman is far more imposing than that of the younger. The salient characteristic of the one was an imperious and fiery impetuosity; that of the other, reserve. The one succeeded in power a minister inefficient as an administrator, weak in nerve, and grotesque in personal appearance; the striking contrast presented by the first William Pitt to the Duke of Newcastle, his aggressive temper, the firm self-reliance of his character, his dazzling personality, around which a dramatic halo clung even in the hour of his death, made a vivid impression upon the imagination of contemporaries, and have descended as a tradition to our own days. Save to a few intimate friends, the second Pitt was known to his fellow-countrymen only on the benches of the House of Commons. A temper as indomitable as his father's bore in silence the vastly greater and more prolonged strain of a most chequered struggle; only a few knew that the strain was endured with a cheerfulness, a calmness, and a presence of mind, which of themselves betoken a born leader of men. In the darkest hour, when the last ally, Austria, had forsaken England and consented to treat with France, when the seamen of the fleet had mutinied, and British ships of war, taken violently from their officers, were blockading the approaches to London, Pitt was awakened during the night by a member of the Cabinet with some disastrous news. He listened quietly, gave his directions calmly and clearly, and dismissed the messenger. The latter, after leaving the house, thought it necessary to return for some further instruction, and found the minister again sleeping quietly. The incident is a drama in itself.