WHEN France had found experimentally, that the present at least was not the favourable time for drawing from her alliance all those advantages with which she flattered herself, she inclined in good earnest to peace. The sincerity of her procedure in the former negotiation might be justly questioned, because she had prepared an aftergame in case of its breaking off; and she so much relied on it, that it is very possible the negotiation itself was but a feint made to cover and to prepare that project. But finding that Great Britain was neither intimidated by the threats of that formidable alliance, nor at all likely to be reduced by the exertion of its forces, she came in good earnest into those pacific sentiments, which formerly she had only counterfeited. The slow progress of the Bourbon troops in Portugal, the retrograde motion of the French army in Germany, the taking of Martínico and its dependencies, and the imminent danger in which they beheld the Havannah, all conspired to humble the pride and dash the hopes of the Bourbon alliance.

On the side of Great Britain, like wise, the dispositions to peace became much more cordial. No people were ever less intoxicated with their successes. Victories were be

come familiar to us, and made but little impression. The marks of public joy on the most considerable conquests, were become much slighter and colder than were shewed at the beginning of the war upon very trivial advantages. Besides, the nation had occasion for peace. Though her trade had been greatly augmented, a circumstance without example favourable, and though many of her conquests, as we have seen, were very far from unlucrative, her supplies of money, great as they were, did not keep pace with her expences. The supply of men too, which was necessary to furnish the waste of so extensive a war, became sensibly diminished, and the troops were not recruited but with some difficulty, and at a heavy charge. It was time to close the war, when every end we could rationally propose to ourselves in carrying it on was answered; we had enough in our hands to answer all our demands, and almost all our expectations; and as it is grown into a sort of maxim, that nations greatly victorious must cede something on a peace, the difficulty on our side was only what and how much we should retain. Not that there was a doubt but whatever choice of acquisition could be made upon any rational principles, a great deal would still

remain

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remain to give the fullest scope to every sentiment of equity and moderation.

All these were sufficient inducements to peace. But other things operated as causes. An alteration in the system of the British ministry had begun this war; another alteration put an end to it.

The whole council had been almost unanimous to oppose Mr. P. in his scheme for precipitating the declaration of war against Spain. They thought his principles too violent, and they did not perfect'y like his person. When he retired from public business, it seemed as if they breathed more freely, and had got rid of a burthen that oppressed them. But he was not long removed, when it appeared that the remaining part of the system was framed upon principles so very discordant in themselves, that it was by no means likely to stand.

The D. of N-, first lord of the treasury, by his carly zeal in fa, vour of the protestant succession, by the liberal and politic use he had made of a great fortune, by the obligations which in a course of many years, and in a succession of great employments, he was enabled to confer on some of the most considerable people in the kingdom, had attached a great number to his fortunes, and formed an interest in the parliament and the nation, which it was extremely difficult to overturn, or even shake. He came to be considered as the head of the whigs; and he was in reality well qualified in many respects for the chief of a party, from his unbounded liberality, from his affability, magnificence, and personal disinterest-, edness. Even the defects and faults which might have appeared in his

character, were rather of service to him, as they often tended to soften resentments, and helped to give that great power, of which he was possessed, an appearance less farmidable.

During a great part of the late king's reign, his family had directed all things without controul. On the accession of his present majesty, his situation seemed more doubtful. But in a little time he appeared outwardly as well established as ever, not only in his former high employments, but in that share of influence which is commonly supposed to attend it. There was, however, very little reality in this specious appearance; for he did not possess the r confidence, upon which all the essential of power depends. Neither his age, nor his situation in the former reign, had allowed him the opportunity of cultivating an interest with the present K. Another noble person had been in an employment near his person; and having formed his mind with much attention and success to those virtues which adorn his station, deserved and obtained a very uncommon share of his confidence.

This nobleman was, first, groom of the stole: afterwards, taking a more open share of the conduct of affairs, he accepted the seals as secretary of state. On the removal of Mr. P. who preserved a sort of union in the administration by their common dread of him, the only competition was between the D. of N. and L. B. The former could not well endure that decay of influence, which on a thousand occasions, he must have sensibly felt, and which the great rank he held must have rendered only more painful. L. B. on the other hand, could not bear

to see the treasury board, which, under whatever limitations, was attended with so much power, in the hands of his rival. It is indeed a department, the entire conduct of which is absolutely essential to the person who has any pretensions to be at the head of the British administration.

These principles soon produced their natural effect. In a short time the D. of N. thought himself obliged to resign, and the May 26. L. B. became first commissioner of the treasury. This resignation was followed by that of others of greater consideration for their rank and influence. No one was surprized at the ferment which ensued; in which personal resentment, party violence, and national, or rather local prejudices, were all united, to throw every thing into confusion.

In this condition of parties, a number of those called Whigs, who had lost their places, being highly irritated at the late changes, and even many of those who still continued in employments, being supposed attached to the interest of the D. of N. and therefore not to be depended on by the new administration, it became necessary to have recourse to those called Tories, or country gentlemen.

From the beginning of this reign it had been professed, with the general applause of all good men, to abolish those odious party distinctions, and to extend the royal favour and protection equally to all his majesty's subjects. The persons called Tories had, besides, been before active in support of some of those, who now clamoured at the very measures which they had themselves, more than once, adopted.

However, occasion was taken from thence to endeavour at the revival of this almost exploded distinction. There were great heats, which were blown into a combustion by every art, and every instrument of party, that had ever proved effectual upon similar occasions.

Whilst the nation was thus distracted, the conduct of a war became difficult, its continuance unsafe, and its supplies uncertain. If the administration failed, their failure would be construed into incapacity; if they succeeded, their success would be converted into an argument for such terms of peace as it would be impossible for them to procure. Above all, the ancient and known connection between the chiefs of the monied interest and the principal persons in the opposition, must have been a subject of great anxiety to the administration.

These causes co-operated to render the intentions of the British ministry towards peace altogether cordial and sincere; and they thought themselves abundantly justified in their wishes for it at this juncture, both from the successes and the burthens of the nation; from the flourishing state of some of their allies, and the doubtful state of others; and in general, from those arguments of humanity, which made it high time that Europe should enjoy some interval of repose.

Both courts thus concurring in the same point,all difficulties were speedily smoothed. It is said, that the first overtures were made under the mediation of his Sardinian majesty. As soon as terms were proposed, in order to give pledge to each other of their mutual sincerity, it was agreed that this treaty should not be negociated, as the former had been,

by

by subordinate persons; but that the two courts should reciprocally send to London and Versailles a person of the first consequence and distinction in either kingdom. Accordingly the duke of Bedford was sent to negociate on the part of EngJand, and the duke de Nivernois on that of France. The great outlines of the treaty were very soon explained and adjusted the detail of some articles took up more time. During this mixed interval of war and treaty, the French obtained a temporary advantage: but which neither suspended nor influenced the negotiation. It was the last offensive effort which they made; and though this enterprize was attended with a temporary success in the execution, it was in the design not superior to any of those that had failed. Monsieur de Ternay, with a squadron of four men of war and a bomb-ketch, and M. d'Hausonville, with a proportionable number of land forces, arrived the 24th of June at the bay of Bulls in Newfoundland, and finding the island little prepared to resist them, took, without difficulty, the forts of St. John, Trinity, and Carboncar; destroyed the two last, and likewise the stages and implements of the fishery to a considerable value. The immense extent of our military operations, rendered it little wonderful or blameable that this particular part was found weak.

The French presumed by far too much on the supineness of the nation, when they hoped such an advantage could have any great effect on the negotiation. In fact, as soon as the news arrived in England, a force was fitted out to retake those places. But such was the vigilance and readiness of general Amherst, our commander in America, that it

superceded the necessity of this ar
mament. He detached colonel Am-
herst with a body of forces, and lord
Colville with a small but sufficient
squadron, to recover this valuable
island. The land forces attacked
some detachments of the French,
advantageously posted in the neigh.
bourhood of St. John's, and prepar
ed to attack St. John's itself, with
so much vigour and activity, that M.
d'Hausonville, who had remained
there as governor, thought proper
to deliver up that place, and sur-
render himself and gar- Sept. 18.
rison prisoners of war,
before lord Colville could arrive
from the place where the troops had
been landed to co-operate with
them. M. de Ternay escaped with
the fleet, partly by having gained a
considerable distance before they
were discovered, by means of a thick
fog; and partly because lord Col-
ville, after their having been disco-
vered, did not apprehend that they
really were the enemy's ships.

It was in Germany that the greatest efforts were made. Even after the negociations had been considerably advanced, the military operations were in that country no way slackened. The body under the marshals d'Etrees and Soubise, being strengthened, in the manner we have seen, by the incomparable judgment of prince Ferdinand's measures, had been obliged to call that under the prince of Condé from the Lower Rhine to their assistance. In order to complete their junction with this corps, the grand army uncovered Cassel, quitted the banks of the Fulda, and fell back to a considerable distance. The he reditary prince of Brunswick, who ! had attended this corps all along, thought at length a fair opportunity

had

had occurred of striking a decisive blow against it. With Aug. 30. this aid he attacked, with his usual vivacity, that part of the French army which was posted at a place called the Heights of Johannis berg, near the banks of the Wetter. At first his success was answerable to his own expectations, and the courage of his troops. He drove the enemy entirely from the high grounds into the plain; but whilst he pursued his advantage, the body he attacked was reinforced by the main army. The action, which began so favourably for the allies, ended in a defeat. They lost above three thousand men, in killed, wounded, and prisoners. The hereditary prince, who had, through the whole action, made the most powerful efforts, and exposed himself to the greatest dangers, received a wound from a Emusquet ball in his hip-bone, from which his life was a long time doubtful, and his recovery lingering and tedious. Whilst his life continued in danger, the concern was unusual, and common to both armies; both taking an interest in the preservation of a prince, as much endeared for his humanity as admired for his valour and military genius.

A victory of the greatest importance could not have more fully displayed the superiority of prince Ferdinand's capacity in the conduct of a war, than his measures after this defeat. The French were not suffered to derive the smallest advantage from this victory; nor did the allies lose a foot of ground. The communication with Cassell was still at the mercy of the allies. The French, in their retreat, had thrown a garrison of ten thousand men into that place; and the prince VOL. V.

made immediate and vigorous preparations to besiege it.

When the prince had adjusted his army to cover the siege, the French took advantage of his movement for that purpose, to repass the Lahne near Giessen, and advanced towards Marpurg. But as they advanced, the prince drew his army from the siege, and made such dispositions as enabled him to fall at once upon their flank and rear, drove Sept. 26. them from all their posts, and obliged them once more to fly with precipitation behind the Lahne.

After this successful affair, the body of the army resumed their preparations for the siege of Cassell, which was now become the grand object of the campaign; and the great purpose of the endeavours of both armies was, of the one to open the communication with Cassel, of the other to cut it off.

A number of skirmishes happened in these movements. The most remarkable among them was the affair of Bucker Sept. 30.

Muhl; not so much for the consequences, which were not extraordinary, but for the uncommon steadiness of the two parties engaged. It was a post of some moment, the forcing of which would facilitate to the French the reduction of Amonebourg, a small fortress, but of importance, as it commanded a pass which led into the country which they proposed to enter. This post was nothing more than a bridge over the Ohme, defended by a slight redoubt on one side, and by a mill on the other. The allies had no cover, except the redoubt; nor the French, except the mill. The engagement began at first between two small bodies, and an artillery proportionably small; but as the action [E]

warmed,