ENGLAND AND AMERICA. II: THE KING'S WAR

In America, the repeal of the Stamp Act had been regarded as a great victory: ships displayed their colours, houses were illuminated, joybells were set ringing. The South Carolina Assembly voted a sum of money for the purchase of a marble statue of William Pitt; and at Philadelphia the principal inhabitants gave a great ball to the English officials, at the conclusion of which the hosts passed an informal resolution: "that to demonstrate our zeal to Great Britain, and our gratitude for the repeal of the Stamp Act, each of us will, on June 4 next, on the birthday of our most gracious sovereign George III, dress ourselves in a new suit of the manufactures of England, and give what homespun we have to the poor." Adams, who certainly was in a position to speak with authority, declared that, "The repeal of the Stamp Act has hushed into silence almost every popular clamour, and composed every wave of popular disorder into a smooth and peaceful calm"; and Lord Chatham in a speech some years later, referring to this time, said, "The Americans had almost forgot, in their excess of gratitude for the repeal of the Stamp Act, any interest but that of the mother-country; there seemed an emulation among the different provinces who should be most dutiful and forward in their expression of loyalty."[147]

This view of the state of affairs in the American colonies was, however, far too deeply tinged with optimism, for, after the first outburst of enthusiasm, the joy of the inhabitants diminished as they reflected upon the malign possibilities inevitably suggested by the Declaratory Act. The well informed were aware that this was intended by the English ministers only as a salve to the King and Parliament; but to the majority it was a menace, and even those who understood the reason for the measure could not feel sure it would never be invoked. So it happened that "there were not wanting many, who, by pamphlets and newspaper publication, prevented the return of cordial affection, and cautioned the colonies against a too implicit reliance on the moderation of the mother country."[148]

This feeling of insecurity might by judicious handling have been removed, but it was fanned into irritation by that clause in the Mutiny Act which compelled the colonials to furnish supplies for the English troops. "An Act of Parliament commanding to do a certain thing, if it has any validity," said Dickinson, "is a tax upon us for the expense that accrues in complying with it."[149] Thus it came to pass that while England was still congratulating itself upon the fortunate results of the repeal of the Stamp Act, New York was refusing to provision or to house the British troops, and its merchants were petitioning against this attempted imposition.

Wisdom and tact were required in the English ministers who, as usual when dealing with America, were found wanting in those qualities; and, indeed, there was during the next years ample ground for Nicholls's scathing indictment of the policy of the mother-country. "From the formation of Lord Chatham's cabinet in 1766 to the ultimate determination in 1774, of forcing the Americans into rebellion, the measures adopted seem to have been calculated to provoke and irritate the Americans. Perhaps this was not the intention of those in power, but it was the result of the different measures at different times adopted; sometimes the Earl of Chatham's opinion prevailed, viz., that the British Parliament had no right to tax the American colonies. At other times the opinion of the interior cabinet prevailed, viz., that the King was humiliated if the right of the British Parliament to tax America was not asserted."[150]

If the irritation of the colonists was only partially allayed by the repeal of the Stamp Act, George III was suffering from what he regarded as the humiliation inflicted by Lord Rockingham's conciliatory policy, and no sooner had he dismissed that minister than he endeavoured to persuade the new government to take steps to re-assert the royal dignity. While Lord Chatham was at the head of affairs, George could do nothing, but when the illness of this Prime Minister prevented his participation in the management of public business, the King brought pressure to bear upon the Chancellor of the Exchequer. "The whole body of courtiers drove him [Townshend] onwards," said Burke. "They always talked as if the King stood in a sort of humiliated state until something of the kind should be done [to neutralize the repeal]."[151] Townshend was an ambitious man and eventually he yielded to these representations, in spite of the known hostility of his absent leader to such measures as were indicated. "I will not use so strong an expression as to say that Townshend was treacherous to this administration," wrote Nicholls, "but he certainly saw that the Earl of Chatham's greatness was on the decline; and that he should most readily increase his own importance by acquiescing in the wishes of the King. He therefore brought forward measures tending to revive the question of the right of the British Parliament to tax the American colonies; but his premature death protects him from being considered as the author of the American War."[152]

Untaught by experience, George Grenville, on January 26, 1767, moved in the House of Commons that America, like Ireland, should support an establishment of its own, and in the course of the discussion which followed, Townshend declared himself an advocate of the principle of the Stamp Act. "I know the mode by which a revenue may be drawn from the Americans without giving offence," he stated, to the astonishment and dismay of the cabinet, who had not been taken into his confidence. George Grenville at once took the opportunity to pin the Chancellor of the Exchequer to his project; and his colleagues then had only the alternative to demand Townshend's resignation or adopt his scheme. They would gladly have had him removed, for, intoxicated by success and royal flatterers, "his behaviour on the whole," as the Duke of Grafton wrote to Chatham, "is such as no cabinet will, I am confident, ever submit to."[153] Unfortunately Chatham was too ill to intervene, and so Townshend prepared his Bill. "No one of the Ministry had authority to advise the dismissal of Mr. Charles Townshend, and nothing less could have stopped the measure," Grafton explained, "Lord Chatham's absence being, in this instance as well as others, much to be lamented."[154]

On May 13 Townshend introduced a Bill to impose taxes on glass, paper, pasteboard, white lead, red lead, painters' colours, and tea imported into the American colonies, the proceeds of which would, it was estimated, amount to less than £40,000 a year, and would be devoted to payment of the governors and judges in America. If taxation was permissible without representation, then there was little to be said against the measure. It inflicted no hardship, for, to take one article as an example, even with the threepence a pound tax, the colonists were still able to purchase tea cheaper than it could be obtained in England, where the tax (returnable on exportation) was a shilling a pound. Further, in regard to the whole measure, it was contended that there was a very distinct difference between a tax on imports and an excise tax. "An excise the Americans think you have no right to levy within their country," Franklin said, when examined by the House of Commons. "But the sea is yours; you maintain by your fleets the safety of navigation in it, and keep it clear of pirates. You may have, therefore, a natural and equitable right to some toll or duty and merchandise carried through that part of your dominions, towards defraying the expense you are at in the ships to maintain the safety of that carriage."

Parliament had not profited by the lessons of the Stamp Act, and ministers ignored the advice of the colonial Governors that now the colonists had tasted the fruits of their power, it was even more dangerous than before to attempt to impose taxation without representation. The situation was further complicated by the fact that the King was known to have instigated the measure. "The distance of the colonies would make it impossible for them to take an active interest in your affairs if they were as well affected to your government as they once pretended to be to your person. They were ready enough to distinguish between you and your ministers. They complained of an act of the legislature, but traced the origin of it no higher than to the servants of the Crown; they pleased themselves with the hope that their sovereign, if not favourable to their cause, at least was impartial. The decisive, personal part you took against them has effectually banished that first distinction from their minds. They consider you as united with your servants against America."[155]

More clear-sighted than the English was the Duc de Choiseul, who wrote in August, 1867, to Durand, the French Minister in London: "Let England but attempt to establish taxes in her colonies and those countries, greater than England in extent, and perhaps becoming more populous—having fisheries, forests, shipping, corn, iron and the like—will easily and fearlessly separate themselves from the mother-country."[156] The feeling of loyalty in the colonies was still strong, however, and as De Kalb, the secret agent of De Choiseul, wrote to his chief, "There is a hundred times more enthusiasm for the American Revolution in any of our coffee houses of Paris, than in all the thirteen provinces of America united."[157] None the less the subsequent events vindicated the judgment of De Choiseul.

The immediate result of Townshend's Act falsified Franklin s opinion. Instead of the measure being accepted in all good-will, the seizure of John Hancock's sloop Liberty for a breach of the revenue laws resulted in a serious riot in Boston. It is true that the other provinces contented themselves for the moment with indignation meetings; but it became very obvious that everywhere there was a feeling of increased hostility to the motherland. This was sedulously and successfully fanned by De Kalb, who was busily engaged in the endeavour to foment rebellion in the colonies; and it was not long before Massachusetts, as usual, took the lead, and, on February 11, 1768, addressed a circular letter to the other Assemblies denouncing the new laws as unconstitutional and inviting them to take united measures for their repeal. Otis sounded the note of revolt: "Let Britain rescind her measures, or her authority is lost for ever"; and half the colonists banded themselves together as "Sons of Liberty" and "Daughters of Liberty," and pledged themselves not to use British imports. Petitions, worded with great moderation, were presented to the King, but the American newspapers contained articles couched in very different language, and colonial orators did not mince their words. "We will submit to no tax, neither will we become slaves. Before the King and Parliament shall impose upon us, or settle Crown officers independent of the Colonial Legislature, we will take up arms and shed the last drop of our blood."[158]

England was not at first inclined to be conciliatory. Charles Townshend's death in September, 1767, and the appointment of Lord North as Chancellor of the Exchequer had necessitated various changes in the ministry; and in December, in consequence of the increase of business in connexion with the American colonies, a third Secretary of State with the title of Secretary of State for America was appointed in the person of Lord Hillsborough.[159] The latter, whom Horace Walpole has described as "nothing more than a pompous composition of ignorance and want of judgment," was a most unwise selection for the very difficult office. He seems to have had no opinion of his own, and to have been undismayed by the outbreaks, relying mainly upon the advice of Bernard, Governor of Massachusetts, that a show of force would be sufficient to subdue the malcontents.

"The affairs in North America tend more and more to confusion," Lord Rockingham wrote on August 11, 1768; and about the same time Bernard, stating that his position was one of "utter and humiliating impotence," asked for troops. Soldiers were sent, in spite of Franklin's warning that "they would not find, but would easily create rebellion." The troops arrived in November, and were kindly received by the colonists, who made it clear to them that the widespread indignation was not against them but against their masters. This show of force on a small scale was without effect. "Of what avail will an army be in so vast a country?" De Chatelet said to De Choiseul. "The Americans have made these reflections, and they will not give way."[160]

For a while, however, the English continued their blundering. Hillsborough instructed Bernard to order the Massachusetts Assembly to rescind its circular letter, and when the Assembly reaffirmed its resolution by a still larger majority, it was dissolved. When Parliament met in December, the Duke of Bedford moved a petition to the Crown to apply to Massachusetts an act of 35 Henry VIII, by which offenders outside the kingdom were liable to be brought to England for trial, on the ground that owing to the state of public feeling in that province it would be impossible to obtain a conviction in any action brought by the Government. This extraordinary proposal actually passed through Parliament, in spite of the opposition of Burke and Pownall, an ex-governor of Massachusetts, for, as Burke said, "Repeal began to be in as bad odour in the House of Commons as the Stamp Act had been the session before."[161] There was so great an outcry, both in England and America, against this measure that no attempt was made to enforce it; indeed, it is probable that it was only intended to frighten the colonists, for it was impossible to make the mother-country realize that its American colonies were not a band of naughty children. As Horace Walpole wrote to Conway: "Our conduct has been that of pert children. We have thrown a pebble at a mastiff and are surprised it is not frightened."

America was not frightened, but its attitude was so threatening that the Duke of Grafton, influenced by the complaint of London merchants that between Christmas 1767 and 1769 the value of exports to America had decreased by £700,000, moved at a Cabinet Council held on May 1, 1769, for the Bill for the repeal of the import dues. At first it seemed as if it would be carried, but at a subsequent discussion Lord North, who, in the interval, had yielded to the King's prayers, proposed that the duty on tea should be retained, not for its financial value, but as a sign of the right of Parliament to impose taxation. As the question at issue was the right to tax, not what to tax, North's amendment practically neutralized the original proposal; but when Grafton divided the Cabinet upon the question, he was left in a minority of one. Soon after he resigned, and Lord North, reigning in his stead, introduced his measure on March 6, 1770. In vain Pownall, who after his return from America in 1760 had published a book on "The Administration of the Colonies," in which he laid especial stress upon the determination of the Americans not to be taxed without their own consent, begged the new ministry to reconsider its measure, assuring them that it would be entirely ineffectual unless all the duties were repealed.

The time had gone by for partial concession, and on the very day before Lord North brought in his Bill, a serious riot broke out at Boston, when the soldiers fired and the first blood was shed. Yet nothing warned the King, whose passion for prerogative it was impossible to quench, and he now strengthened the anti-colonial side of the new Cabinet. "Rigby ... who cursed and swore when the repeal of the Stamp Act was alluded to in his presence, and Sandwich, who never spoke of the Americans except as rebels and cowards, openly proclaimed that three battalions and half-a-dozen frigates would soon bring New York and Massachusetts to their senses. They became ministers on an express understanding that the British Government, in its dealing with the Provincial Assemblies, should henceforth employ undisguised coercion and insist upon unconditional submission."[162]

In August, 1772, Lord Hillsborough was replaced as Secretary of State for America by the Earl of Dartmouth, who was known to be anxious for conciliation; but the colonies found fresh cause of offence in a measure that provided for the payment of the Massachusetts judges by the Crown instead of the colonies, "a change which was designed to render the judges independent of popular feeling, was resented as an attempt to make him subservient to the Crown, for they held office during the King's pleasure."

Meantime delegates from the various Assemblies met in congress, and presented to the King a petition, at once firm and temperate, assuring him of their desire to restore amicable relations with the mother-country. "As your Majesty enjoys the signal distinction of reigning over freemen, the language of freedom cannot be displeasing. We ask for peace, liberty, and safety. We wish not a diminution of the prerogative, nor do we solicit the grant of any new right in our favour. In the magnanimity and justice of your Majesty and Parliament, we confide for a redress of our grievances, trusting that when the causes of our apprehensions are removed, our future conduct will prove us not unworthy of the regard we have been accustomed, in our happier days, to enjoy. We implore, therefore, your Majesty, as the loving father of all your people, connected by the same bonds of law, loyalty, faith and blood, not to suffer the transcendent relation, formed by these ties, to be further violated in uncertain expectation of effects which, if attained, never can compensate for the calamities through which they must be gained. So may your Majesty enjoy every temporal felicity, through a long and glorious reign, and your descendants inherit your prosperity and dominions, till time shall be no more." After passing this Address, Congress, which had sat in defiance of the Government, dissolved, but not before it had agreed to a resolution that if the differences at issue were not previously settled, another Congress should meet on May 10, 1775. The petition was, under the circumstances, so reasonable that on November 10 the Duke of Richmond moved in the House of Lords that the petition of the American Congress to the King afforded ground of conciliation. The King, however, would only regard the Address as an impertinence, and his reply was deliberately void of any conciliatory phrase. "It is with the utmost astonishment that I find any of my subjects capable of encouraging the rebellious disposition which unhappily exists in some of my colonies in North America. Having entire confidence in the wisdom of my Parliament, the great council of the nation, I will steadily pursue those measures which they have recommended, for the support of the constitutional rights of Great Britain and the protection of the commercial interests of my kingdom."

The irritation of the American colonists broke out on December 16, 1773, when the ships laden with tea arrived at the port of Boston. These were boarded by a small army of responsible citizens disguised as Mohawk Indians in full war paint, with tomahawks and scalping knives, too numerous to be opposed, who flung the cargoes into the sea. The news of "the Boston Tea-Party," as the incident was subsequently known, only established George III in his belief that of all weapons firmness only would be effectual; and accordingly he sanctioned and, indeed, welcomed the Boston Port Bill, which ordered the closing of the port of Boston and altered the charter of the province of Massachusetts. It was clear that if this Act could be enforced Boston would be punished for its sins by nothing less than ruin, and ministers believed that the dispersal of the trade of that flourishing town among its commercial competitors would result in internal quarrels. However, instead of the hoped for disunion, the colonies banded themselves together yet more closely, and when Hutchinson was recalled and General Gage sent out as Governor of Massachusetts and Commander-in-Chief, the latter found himself confronted with the colonies on the very border-line of rebellion.

"Very little that is satisfactory has transpired of America. On Monday Lord North moved for leave to bring in a Bill to remove the Customs and Courts of Justice from Boston to New Salem—a step so detrimental to the former town, as must soon reduce it to your own terms; and yet of so mild an appearance that it was agreed to without a division and almost without a debate," Gibbon wrote on March 16, 1774. The truth is, outside a small body of active politicians, Englishmen had not yet realized that the American question had become so acute, that close at hand was the end of peaceful negotiations. Even when it seemed probable that hostilities must ensue, the landed gentry, the backbone of the House of Commons, were in favour of thrashing their impenitent brethren across the sea, and a little later, according to Burke, "The merchants began to snuff the cadaverous haut goÛt of lucrative war; the freighting business never was so lively, on account of the prodigious taking up for transport service: great orders for provisions of all kinds, new clothing for the troops, puts life into the woollen manufactures."[163]

Even the general body of the public was deluded, by the specious arguments of the ministers, into the support of the appeal to arms. "I recollect," Nicholls has recorded, "in one debate, Lord North stated that the inhabitants of Great Britain, considered collectively, paid one man with another twenty-five shillings a year in taxes; while the inhabitants of our American colonies, considered collectively, paid each only sixpence a year in taxes; he added, 'Is this equitable?' The country gentlemen were weak enough to believe that, by persevering in the contest, their taxes would be diminished."[164]

The Boston Port Act was the last straw. The Americans realized that they must either submit unconditionally to the home government or take arms in defence of their liberties. They did not long hesitate. In September the inter-provincial Congress approved the opposition of the inhabitants of Massachusetts Bay to the execution of the late Acts of Parliament, and stated that if the same should be attempted to be carried into execution by force, in such cases all Americans ought to support them in their opposition. "I am not sorry that the line of conduct seems now chalked out," wrote the King on hearing the news. "The New England government are in a state of rebellion. Blows must decide whether they are to be subject to this country or independent."[165]

The appeal to the God of Battles was not allowed without protest, and in January, 1775, Chatham, moving for the recall of the troops in Boston, made an impassioned speech. "For solidity of reasoning, and wisdom of conclusion under such a complication of difficult circumstances, no nation or body of men can stand in preference to the General Congress at Philadelphia. All attempts to impose servitude upon such men, to establish despotism over such a mighty continental nation must be vain, must be fatal. We shall be forced ultimately to retract. Let us retract while we can, not when we must." In vain London and other cities petitioned against extreme measures, in vain Lord Effingham and Chatham's eldest son resigned their commissions in the Army lest they should have to serve against the Americans, in vain Grafton resigned the Privy Seal. Lord Dartmouth took the Duke's place; Lord George Germaine, a violent opponent of the colonies, became Secretary of State for America; and Howe took over from Gage the command of the British troops in the colonies; while those who opposed the war were looked upon as traitors by the Court. "The war was considered as the war of the King personally. Those who supported it were called the King's friends; while those who wished the country to pause, and reconsider the propriety of persevering in the contest, were branded as disloyal."[166]

The first blood was shed at Lexington on the morning of April 19, 1775, when General Gage's troops engaged with a body of the colonial militia. At that time no doubt was felt at home that the rebels would be promptly defeated, and still society at large did not take the American question very seriously. Even Selwyn referred to it as "that little dispute." "You pant after news from America, there are none pour le moment," he wrote to Lord Carlisle on October 11, 1775. "But you may depend upon it, if that little dispute interests you, I will let you know, quand le monde sera rassemble, tout ce que j'apprens, et de bon lieu. Charles [James Fox] assures us that nothing is so easy as to put an end to all this, but then there must be a change of ministry, quelconque, no matter what, as a preliminary assurance to the insurgents."[167] Two months later Selwyn was still optimistic. "Our last news from America are certainly not good, but it does not alter my expectations of what will be the issue of the next campaign." The delay in inflicting a serious defeat upon the colonists filled the latter with hope of ultimate success. "Britain," said Franklin jubilantly, "at expense of three millions, had killed a hundred and fifty Yankees this campaign, which is £20,000 a head; and at Bunker's Hill she gained a mile of ground, part of which she lost again by our taking post on Ploughed Hill. During the same time sixty thousand children have been born in America: from these data may easily be calculated the time and expense necessary to kill us all and conquer our territory."

Lexington and Bunker's Hill only served to irritate the King, who could not see to what these encounters would lead, and he was the more shocked, being in hourly expectation of the surrender of the rebels, to receive despatches from Sir William Howe, containing an account of the action on Long Island. "Since the future consequences of the American rebellion, if we may judge from this fatal event," he said to Lord George Germaine, after glancing at the lists of killed and wounded at Long Island, "are likely to be still more bloody and tragical, may my deluded subjects on the other side of the Atlantic behold their impending destruction with half the horror that I feel on the occasion; then I think I shall soon hear of their throwing off the yoke of republicanism and, like loyal subjects, returning to that duty they owe to an indulgent sovereign." Doubtless he still cherished the hope that colonists would come to heel, but even his optimism must have been shattered by the publication of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1775.

The war proceeded with varying fortunes, and the capture of New York by Howe encouraged the mother-country. Burgoyne's success at Philadelphia in June, 1777, delighted the King, who is said to have rushed into the Queen's room as soon as he heard of it, crying, "I have beat them! beat all the Americans!" But his pleasure was soon dashed by the news that on October 16, Burgoyne and his army capitulated at Saratoga, which, however, after the first shock, he pronounced "very serious, but not without remedy." After these distressing tidings became known in England, a friend of Lord North said to him, "My Lord, you must now see that the whole population of America is hostile to your designs." Lord North replied, "I see that as clearly as you do; and the King shall either consent to allow me to assure the House of Commons that some means shall be found to put an end to the war, or I will not continue to be his minister."[168] The King, however, was not to be moved from his purpose, and his appeal to North not to desert him in the hour of his trouble could not be disregarded by his faithful minister.

The situation was, indeed, distressing. "What a wretched piece of work do we seem to be making of it in America!" Gibbon wrote on April 13, 1777. "The greatest force which any European power ever ventured to transport into that continent is not strong enough ever to attack the enemy: the naval strength of Great Britain is not sufficient to prevent the Americans (they have almost lost the appellation of rebels) from receiving every assistance that they wanted; and in the meantime you are obliged to call out the militia to defend your own coast against their privateers. You possibly may expect from me some account of the designs and policy of the French Court. I shall only say that I am not under any immediate apprehension of a war with France. It is much more pleasant as well as profitable to view in safety the raging of the tempest, occasionally to pick up some pieces of wreck, and to improve their trade, their agriculture and their finances while the two countries are 'lento collisa duella.' Far from taking any step to put an end to this astonishing dispute, I should not be surprised if next summer they were to lend their cordial assistance to England as the weaker party."[169]

It is beyond the scope of this work to trace the progress of the war, and it is for the military historian to criticise its conduct; but it was patent that the purchase of Hessian troops was a great diplomatic blunder. To invoke the aid of hired mercenaries was to make the breach irrevocable, as well as to set against the country employing them the sympathy of other nations. Frederick the Great said he "should make all the Hessian troops, marching through his dominions to America, pay the usual cattle tax, because though human beings they had been sold as beasts." The case has been well put by Lord Mahon. "If any men were needed, was there any lack of them in England?" he asked, "was it wise to inform foreign states that we deemed ourselves thus dependent on foreign aid. Was it wise to hold forth to America the first example of obtaining assistance from abroad? Above all, if conciliation was the object full as much as conquest, how signal the imprudence thus in the midst of a civil strife, to thrust forward aliens to both parties, in blood, in language, and in manners."[170] Chatham inveighed against "the traffic and barter driven with every pitiful German prince that sells his subjects to the shambles of a foreign country. This mercenary aid on which you rely irritates to an incurable resentment the minds of your enemies. To overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder; devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty! If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while there was a foreign troop in my country, I never would lay down my arms, never! never! never!"

Chatham's popularity, affected somewhat by his acceptance of a pension, had been greatly diminished when he went to the House of Lords, but now, when the country was in danger, all eyes were turned on him as the only man who could conceivably extract from the situation peace with honour. "If there be a man who has served this nation with honour to himself and glory to his country," said George Grenville the younger in the House of Commons on February 11, 1778, "if there be a man who has carried the arms of Britain triumphant to every quarter of the globe beyond the most sanguine expectations of the people, if there be a man of whom the House of Bourbon stands more particularly in awe; if there be a man in this country who unites the confidence of England and America, is not he the proper person to treat with Americans, and not those who have uniformly deceived and oppressed them? There is not one present who is ignorant of the person to whom I allude. You all know I mean a noble, near relation, Lord Chatham." Many years later an able historian, reviewing the situation, repeated in no uncertain tone the substance of the speech of the promising young statesman. "There was one man to whom, in this hour of panic and consternation, the eyes of all patriotic Englishmen were turned," Lecky has written. "In Chatham England possessed a statesman whose genius in conducting a war was hardly inferior to that of Marlborough in conducting an army. In France his name produced an almost superstitious terror."[171]

In America it was pronounced with the deepest affection and reverence. He had, in the great French war, secured the Anglo-Saxon preponderance in the colonies; he had defended the colonies in every stage of their controversy about the Stamp Act, and had fascinated them by the splendour of his genius. If any statesman could at the last moment conciliate them, dissolve the new alliance, and kindle into flame the loyalist feeling which undoubtedly existed largely in America, it was Chatham. If, on the other hand, conciliation proved impossible, no statesman could for a moment be compared to him in the management of a war.[172]

The state of affairs at home and abroad called for the strong hand of a great minister. British troops were confined in Philadelphia and New York; the navy had been starved; the commissariat of the troops in America was shamefully mismanaged. America, not slow to follow the example of the mother-country to employ foreign troops, signed a treaty with France, the ratification of which by Congress took place on May 4, 1778.