with that coolness and temper which ought to govern all such transactions, "That if not those already named, at least some fixed periods, during the war, ought to be agreed upon; as the uti possidetis, or mutual retaining of possessions, could not reasonably have reference only to the time of signing the peace." For if the contrary principle should be admitted, it would become difficult to know, or even to guess, at the value of the possessions that might be given away, as it could not possibly be ascertained what might in the interval, be lost or gained. And if these difficulties occurred, it was added, in the simplicity of a possessory article, they must be increased tenfold upon every other, and would come to such a height, as to preclude all possibility of negotiation, on things of so intricate a nature as changes and equivalents.(1)

This dispute occasioned delay, and afforded the French ministry, if they had been so disposed, a decent pretext for breaking off the negotiation. In the mean time, hostilities were every where carried on, as if no such negotiation had subsisted. But the campaign was distinguished by few memorable

events.

The war which had been carried on so long and so fruitlessly in Westphalia, at an immense expense, was as indecisive as ever. For although prince Ferdinand, by taking the field in the month of February, gained several advantages over the French, who were little fitted for a winter campaign, the duke de Broglio obliged him to abandon all the places he had taken or invested before the first of April; to raise the blockade of Ziegenhayn and the siege of Cassel, to expose anew the landgravate of Hesse, and retire beyond the Dymel.

Broglio having afterward passed the Dymel, and formed a junction with the French army under Soubise, who commanded on the Lower Rhine, attacked the allies at the village of Kirch Denkern, on the 16th of July, but was repulsed with the loss of five thousand men, killed or made prisoners.(2) In consequence of this advantage, prince Ferdinand, having extended his army towards Hammelin, was enabled to secure the course of the Weser, and to protect the electorate of Hanover, notwithstanding the superior force of the enemy. But he had the mortification to see them ravage Westphalia and East Friesland.

The king of Prussia, seemingly fatigued with ineffectual efforts, and mortified by indecisive victories, acted solely on the defensive; himself taking post in Silesia, and his brother Henry in Saxony. Yet this defensive campaign was not more exempt from misfortune than those in which he most freely indulged the ardour of his genius. The Austrians took Schweidnitz by surprise, and the Russians made themselves masters of Colberg. By the loss of these two important places, the illustrious Frederick found himself in a worse situation than at the close of any former season of action. The Russians wintered in Pomerania, and the Austrians in Silesia.

These events were little suitable to the haughty tone of the English minister, in his negotiation with France. But several actions happened at sea, between single ships and small squadrons, greatly to the honour of the British flag. And a naval armament, which had excited the highest hopes while its destination remained unknown, was prepared early in the season, and crowned with signal success.

The object of this armament, consisting of ten ships of the line, under commodore Keppel, and near ten thousand land-forces, commanded by majorgeneral Hodgson, was Belleisle, on the coast of France. Before that island, which lies within four leagues of the point of Tiberoon, between Port Lewis and the mouth of the Loire, and is about twelve leagues in circumference, the British fleet appeared on the seventh of April. A descent was immediately attempted at three different places, but without effect. The invaders were repulsed, in spite of their most vigorous efforts, with the loss of five hundred men. They were not, however, discouraged, but resolutely perse

(1) Account of the negotiation published by the court of France, and tacitly admitted by that of England. (2) Lond. Gazette, July 23, 1761.

vered in their purpose. At length, the troops, surmounting every obstacle, made good their landing; drove the enemy from their lines before Palais, the capital of the island; entered the town sword in hand, and obliged the garrison to take refuge in the citadel. That fortress, built by the famous Vauban, and defended by three thousand men, under the chevalier de St. Croix, an able and experienced officer, made a gallant defence. But after it had been invested about six weeks, and a practicable breach made in the works, St. Croix, seeing no prospect of relief, judged it prudent to capitulate, in order to avoid the danger of an assault: and the whole island submitted to his Britannic majesty.(1)

The taking of Belleisle, which was celebrated with bonfires, illuminations, and every expression of triumph and tumultuous joy, contributed greatly to elate the pride of the English populace, and was no small mortification to France. But the expedition having failed in its ultimate aim, which was to oblige the French to weaken their army in Westphalia, in order to defend their own coasts, and by that means to enable prince Ferdinand to strike some decisive blow; and the island itself, which is, literally speaking, a barren rock, being found to have no harbour for ships of force, the chief circumstance that could make it valuable to Great Britain; the possession of it was thought, by the more intelligent part of the nation, dearly purchased with the lives of two thousand brave men, besides an immense expenditure of naval and military stores. The ministry, however, represented it as a place of great importance, from its position, while they highly and justly extolled the valour of the troops employed in reducing it. Yet, as this conquest had not been attended with the expected consequences, and as no other enterprise was planned from which any important advantage could be expected during the summer, Mr. Pitt condescended to name certain epochs, to which the reciprocal holding of possessions, should refer, and the negotiation with France was resumed.

The epochs named by the British minister were, the first of August for Europe, the first of September for Africa and America, the first of November for the East Indies. To these epochs France agreed, though reluctantly, on account of the nearness, as she had now hopes of acquiring some important advantage in Westphalia before the close of the campaign. She also agreed, that every thing settled between the two crowns, relative to their particular disputes, should be finally conclusive and obligatory, independent of the proceedings of the congress to be held at Augsburg, for settling the disputes of Germany. And she farther agreed, that the definitive treaty of peace between the two kingdoms, or preliminary articles to that purpose, should be signed and ratified before the first of the next August.

France even gave up the point of honour, and made frankly an offer of what places she was willing to cede and exchange; namely, in her final answer (after certain difficulties had been removed, and certain claims relinquished), to guarantee Canada to England, in the utmost extent required, including as dependencies the islands of Cape Breton and St. John; to demolish Dunkirk, provided the right of fishing and drying fish on the banks of Newfoundland shall be confirmed to her; to restore Minorca for Guadaloupe and Marigalante: to evacuate Hesse, Hanau, and Gottingen, provided one settlement in Africa should be guaranteed to her for the convenience of the negro trade; to remit the settlement of affairs in the East Indies to the companies of the two nations, and to leave England in possession of Belleisle, until some equivalent shall be offered and accepted. But she persisted in demanding the restitution of the trading vessels taken before the declaration of war, and obstinately refused to give up Wesel and Gueldres, which she had conquered from the king of Prussia.

England, with no less obstinacy, refused to restore the disputed captures, yet insisted on the restitution of those two places. Nor would the British minister, astonishing as it may seem, agree to a neutrality in regard to Ger

(1) Lond. Gazette, April 30, and June 14, 1761

many. He rejected the proposal with disdain, as an insult upon the national honour; though it would certainly have been more easy for Great Britain, and no less honourable, to mediate, or even purchase, a peace for the king of Prussia, in the congress at Augsburg, than to enable him to continue the struggle for Silesia, and defend his widely-separated dominions against France, Sweden, Austria, Russia, and the army of the empire. On this romantic idea, however, and the other two contentious points, the negotiation between France and England was finally broken off, when it seemed ready to terminate in a solid peace, and after it had been protracted considerably beyond the term fixed for signing the treaty.

A rupture with Spain, it was readily foreseen, would be the immediate consequence of the failure of this treaty, as the failure itself had been partly occasioned by the suspicions of a secret understanding between the French and Spanish ministers. The poisonous insinuations of the court of Versailles had now produced their full effect upon the mind of Charles III. This sufficiently appeared in the course of the foregoing negotiation. The French minister, along with his memorial of propositions (dated the 15th of July), had presented to the court of London a private memorial, signifying the desire of his most Christian majesty, that, in order to establish the peace upon solid foundations, not to be shaken by the contested interests of a third power, the king of Spain might be invited to guarantee the treaty between the two crowns, and he proposed, with the consent and communication of his Catholic majesty, that the three points in dispute between England and Spain, and which might produce a new war in Europe and America, should be finally settled in this negotiation; namely, the restitution of some ships taken in the course of the present war under Spanish colours; the liberty claimed by the Spanish nation to fish on the banks of Newfoundland; and the demolition of certain settlements, made, contrary to treaty, by the English logwood-cutters in the bay of Honduras.

The British minister read this memorial with surprise and indignation, and declared on returning it, with that dignity and even haughtiness peculiar to his character, that his Britannic majesty would not suffer the disputes with Spain to be blended, in any manner whatever, in the negotiation of peace between the two crowns; and that it would be considered as an affront, and a thing incompatible with the sincerity of the negotiation on the part of France, to make any farther mention of such a circumstance. He, at the same time, called upon the Spanish minister to disavow the proposition which had been said to be made with the knowledge of his court; and expressed his astonishment at seeing a proposal for accommodating disputes between friends coming through the medium of an enemy! to find points of so much consequence offered for deliberation by a French envoy, when his Catholic majesty had an ambassador residing in London, from whom no intimation of such business had been received!

The court of Versailles condescended to make an apology for having proposed a discussion of the points in dispute with Spain; but the Spanish ambassador openly avowed and justified the step taken by the French envoy, as entirely conformable to the sentiments of his master. He declared, that the kings of France, and Spain were united not only by the ties of blood, but those of mutual interest. He applauded the humanity and magnanimity of his most Christian majesty, in seeking to render the peace as permanent as the vicissitudes of human affairs would permit; and he haughtily added, that, if governed by any other principles, his Catholic majesty, consulting only his greatness, would have spoken "from himself, and as became his dignity."(1) The meaning of this declaration could not possibly be misunderstood. It evidently appeared, from the most liberal interpretation of the words, that Spain, as a kind of party, was made acquainted with every step taken in the negotiation between France and England; that her judgment was appealed to in the proposition, and her authority called in aid to enforce the acceptance

a Papers relative to the negotiation with France, and the dispute with Spain, published by authority.

of the terms offered by France; in a word, that there was a perfect union of affections, interest, and councils between the courts of Versailles and Madrid.

A firm conviction of this, is said to have been the cause of that arrogance, bordering upon insult, with which Mr. Pitt thenceforth treated the proposals of France, and which completed the views of the court of Versailles. The family compact was signed on the 15th of August. From that moment, the French minister changed his tone; and the negotiation with England was broken off, as already related, less from any disagreement between the two courts on important points, than their seeming obstinacy in maintaining pre tended points of honour.

In the mean time, orders had been sent to the earl of Bristol, the British ambassador at the court of Madrid, to remonstrate with energy and firmness on the daring interposition of Spain in the negotiation between France and England, and to demand a declaration of her final intentions; to adhere to the negative put upon the Spanish pretensions, to fish upon the banks of Newfoundland; to rest the article of disputed captures on the justice of the English tribunals; to continue the former professions of the court of London, indicating a desire of an amicable adjustment of the logwood dispute, and the willingness of his Britannic majesty to cause the settlements on the coast of Honduras to be evacuated, as soon as his Catholic majesty should suggest another method, by which the British subjects could enjoy that traffic, to which they had a right by treaty, and which the court of Madrid had farther confirmed to them by repeated promises.

Mr. Wall, the Spanish minister, applauded the magnanimity of the king of Great Britain, in not suffering France to be appealed to, as a tribunal, in his disputes with Spain. In the proposition made, with the consent of his court, he declared that things had not been considered in that light; and he asked, whether it could be imagined in England, that the Catholic king was seeking to provoke Great Britain to war in her most flourishing and exalted condition, and after such a series of prosperous events as never, perhaps, occurred in the annals of any other kingdom? But he refused to give up any of the three points in dispute, and owned that the most perfect harmony subsisted between the courts of France and Spain; that in consequence of that harmony, the most Christian king had offered to assist his Catholic majesty, in case the dispute between Great Britain and Spain should terminate in a rupture, and that this offer was considered in a friendly light.

A declaration less explicit would have been sufficient to convince a minister of Pitt's discernment, that the intentions of Spain were by no means equivocal. He accordingly declared in council, that we ought to consider the evasions of that court as a refusal of satisfaction, and that refusal as a declaration of war; that we ought from prudence as well as spirit to secure to ourselves the first blow; that, if any war could provide its own resources, it must be a war with Spain; that her supplies lay at a distance, and might be easily intercepted and cut off, as we were already masters of the sea; that her flota, or American plate-fleet, on which she had great dependence, was not yet arrived, and that the taking of it would at once strengthen our hands and disable hers. Such a bold but necessary step, he added, would be a lesson to his Catholic majesty, and to all Europe, how dangerous it was to presume to dictate in the affairs of Great Britain.

The transcendent dignity of this sentiment, so far exceeding the comprehension of ordinary minds, appeared in the form of shocking violence, or wild extravagance, to the majority of the council. They admitted, that we ought not to be frightened from asserting our reasonable demands, by the menaces of any power; but they affirmed, at the same time, that this desire of adding war to war, and enemy to enemy, while the springs of government were already overstrained, was ill suited to our national strength; that to shun war upon a just occasion was cowardice, but to provoke or court it madness; that if Spain, misled by the councils of France, should enter in a more decisive manner into the views of that hostile court, it would then be early

enough to declare war, when all the neighbouring and impartial powers were convinced, that we acted with as much temper as resolution, and when every thinking man in the kingdom was satisfied, that he was not hurried into the hazards and expenses of war from an idea of romantic heroism, but from unavoidable necessity, and would cheerfully contribute to the support of an administration which, though firm and resolute, was afraid alike to waste the national treasure wantonly or employ it unjustly.

These arguments, though plausible, had no weight with Mr. Pitt. He considered them as the timid counsels of short-sighted caution, or the captious objections of narrow-minded and selfish politicians, envious of his greatness, and indifferent to their country's welfare. Giving full scope to his pride and patriotism, he therefore warmly exclaimed, "This is the time for humbling the whole house of Bourbon! and if the glorious opportunity is let slip, we shall in vain look for another. Their united power, if suffered to gather strength, will baffle our most vigorous efforts, and possibly plunge us in the gulf of ruin. We must not allow them a moment to breathe: self-preservation bids us crush them, before they can combine or recollect themselves."

Mr. Pitt, in the same council, rashly declared, if he could not carry so salutary a measure, this was the last time he should sit at that board. "I was called to the administration of public affairs," added he, haughtily, "by the voice of the people: to them I have always considered myself as accountable for my conduct; and, therefore, cannot remain in a situation which makes me responsible for measures I am no longer allowed to guide." The sagacious earl Grenville, president of the council, coolly replied, "The gentleman, I find, is determined to leave us, and I cannot say I am sorry for it, as he would otherwise have compelled us to leave him; for if he is determined to assume solely the right of advising his majesty, and directing the operations of war, to what purpose are we here assembled?" On a division, the minister himself, and his brother-in-law, lord Temple, were the only members of the council who voted for an immediate declaration of war against Spain.

Pitt, conformable to his declared resolution, carried the seals of his office to the king; although not without hopes, as is believed, that he would be desired to retain them. But royal favour had, by this time, begun to flow into new channels.

The earl of Bute claimed a large share of that favour. He had been much about the person of George III. before his accession to the throne; and besides the pleasure of having partly formed the mind of the heir-apparent to the British crown, he had the particular satisfaction in so doing of discharging a debt of gratitude to the memory of his majesty's father, Frederic prince of Wales, whose friendship and confidence he enjoyed in a very high degree, along with Mr. Pitt and other reputed patriots. Soon after the death of George II., this nobleman was appointed secretary for the northern department: and he now expected, in consequence of the divisions in the privy council, and the affection of his royal master, to seize the reins of government. The duke of Newcastle, and other ministers of the late king, who had found themselves overshadowed by the superior abilities of the great commoner, also wished his removal; and as HE, the favourite of the people, had found it necessary to form a coalition with them, and to flatter the political prejudices of his aged sovereign, in order more effectually to serve his country, and gratify his own boundless ambition, THEY, in hopes of rocovering their consequence, yielded in like manner a temporary support to the earl of Bute, supposed to be the bosom favourite of the youthful monarch.

The king, therefore, received the seals from Mr. Pitt with ease and dignity. He expressed his regret for the loss of so able a servant, at a time when abilities for public business were so much required; but he did not solicit him to resume his office. Little prepared for a behaviour so firm, yet full of condescension, the haughty secretary is said to have burst into tears.(1) This was the time for conciliation between the powerful sovereign and his greatest sub.

(1) Account of Mr. Pitt's Resignation, &c. as published by the two parties.

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