The Causes of War: Volume IV: 1650 - 1800 1509912177, 9781509912179

Table of contents :
Cover
Dedication
Title Page
Contents
I. Introduction
1. The Conversation on Sunday Afternoon
2. Utopia
3. Facts
4. Casus Belli in Practice
5. Volumes One to Three
6. Volume Four
II. The Glorious Revolution
1. Introduction
2. Republics
(a) The Republic of the United Provinces
(b) The Republic of Oliver Cromwell
3. The First War between the Dutch and English Republics
(a) The Reasons for War
(b) The Clash
(c) The Peace
4. Allies with France, War with Spain
5. The Restoration
(a) The End of the Commonwealth
(b) The Promises of Charles II
(c) The Early Years
6. Alliance with Portugal and Further War with Spain
7. A Second War with the Dutch, and then the French
(a) The Reasons for War
(b) The Killing Begins
(c) The War Expands
(d) The Treaty of Breda
8. Alliance with France, Further War against the Dutch, and Another Peace
9. War and Peace with English and the Indigenous Communities in the Colonies
10. The Causes of the Revolution in England
11. The Invasion of England
(a) William and Mary
(b) The Invitation
(c) The International Politics of the Invasion
(d) Setting Foot on the Shores of England
(e) The Denunciation of James II
12. The Glorious Revolution
13. John Locke
14. Constitutional Monarchy Entrenched
15. Liberty
16. Conclusion
III. The Wars of Louis XIV
1. Introduction
2. The Ongoing Conflict with Spain
(a) Peace
(b) Maria Theresa of Spain
3. The War of Spanish Inheritance
(a) The Justification
(b) The Action
(c) The Creation of a Collective Force against France
(d) Peace, kind of
(e) Planning for the Next Long-term Conflict
4. The War of France and England against the Dutch Republic
(a) The Reasons
(b) Planning
(c) The Killing Begins
(d) The Dutch Survival via the Re-creation of a Web of Alliances
(e) The Expanding Franco-Dutch War
(f) Peace with the Treaties of Nijmegen
5. The Reunion Wars
(a) The Thinking of the French King
(b) The Response of his Neighbours
(c) Truce
(d) Breach
(e) The Invasion of England by William of Orange
6. The Nine Years War
(a) The Grand Alliance I
(b) The War in Europe
(c) The War Outside Europe
(d) The Peace of Ryswick
7. The War of Spanish Succession
(a) The Plan to Avoid the War
(b) The Slide to War
(c) The Treaty of the Hague
(d) The Killing
(e) The Grand Alliance Begins to Get the Upper Hand
(f) Louis XIV Refuses to Buckle
(g) The 1713 Treaties of Utrecht
(h) The 1714 Treaties of Rastatt and Baden
8. Conclusion
IV. The Interregnum
1. Introduction
2. Succession and Dynastic Considerations
(a) The Pragmatic Sanction and the Habsburg Succession
(b) British Succession
(c) French Succession
3. The War of the Quadruple Alliance
4. The 1720s
(a) War between Spain and Britain
(b) The Return and Balance of Peace
5. Skirting a Major Conflict in the 1730s
(a) The Polish Succession
(b) Jenkins Ear
6. Conclusion
V. The War of Austrian Succession
1. Introduction
2. The Prize
3. Frederick II
4. The Opportunities for Others of the Habsburg Inheritance
5. Splintering the Opposition and Building New Alliances
6. The Slide Towards World War
7. Coming to the Boil
8. Full Boil
9. Bonnie Prince Charlie
10. Expansion and Exhaustion
11. The Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle
12. Conclusion
VI. The Seven Years War
1. Introduction
2. The New Plan
3. Trouble in the Colonies
4. Austria Backs Away from its Alliance with Britain
5. Britain Makes a Deal with Russia
6. The Treaty of Westminster Trumps that with Russia
7. Misreading the Opposition
8. New Friends and New Neutrals: The First Treaties of Versailles
9. The Deepening Conflict
10. The Invasion of Saxony
11. The Widening Conflict in India and North America
12. The Expansion of the Anti-Prussian Alliance
13. Extreme Pressure Applied on Prussia
14. The Push Back
15. A Good Year for Britain
16. The Pressure on Prussia and Victories for Britain
17. The Entry of Spain
18. The Exit of Russia
19. The Last Actions
20. The Peace of Paris
21. The Peace of Hubertusburg
22. Conclusion
VII. The War of American Independence
1. Introduction
2. Before the Revolution
3. After the Seven Years War
4. Land and Native Americans
5. Sugar and Stamps
6. A Revised Approach
7. Tea
8. The Intolerable Acts
9. 1774: The Reaction
10. A Shot Heard Across the World
11. The Justification and Escalation
12. The First Help and Assistance
13. Common Sense
14. The Declaration of Independence
15. Military Survival and Political Cohesion
16. The French Enter the War
17. As the War Grinds on in North America, it Expands into Other Parts of the World
18. Spain Enters the Fray
19. Tupac’s Rebellion in Peru
20. A Global War
21. The League of Armed Neutrality
22. The Last Years of the Conflict
23. Peace
(a) The Settlement between Britain and the Allies of the United States
(b) The Settlement between Britain and the United States
24. The Native American Question
25. What the Americans Fought for
26. The United States and the Wider World in the 1790s
27. The French Revolution and the Turn Towards Isolationism
28. Conclusion
VIII. The French Revolution
1. Introduction
2. Kings
(a) Louis XIV
(b) Louis XV
(c) Louis XVI
3. Philosophers
4. The Fuse to Revolution in France
(a) The Assembly of Notables
(b) The Estates General
(c) The National Assembly
(d) The Bastille, 14 July 1789
(e) The Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Citizen
(f) The Mistake
5. The Foreign Context
(a) The United Provinces and the Batavian Revolution
(b) The Austrian Netherlands, the Brabant Revolution and France
(c) The View from Britain
6. War
(a) Preparing for Impact
(b) The Killing Begins
(c) The Execution of a King
7. The First Coalition against the Republic of France
8. Internal Enemies
(a) Within the First Alliance
(b) The Terror
(c) The Return to Stability within France
9. The War Changes, Turns and Expands
(a) Survival
(b) The Fragmentation of the First Coalition
(c) Concentrated Forces on Fewer Enemies
(d) The Widening War
(e) Peace in Italy and Peace with Austria
10. Britain Fights Alone
(a) Ireland
(b) Reform in Paris
(c) The Invasion of Egypt
11. The Second Coalition
(a) Another Year of Blood: 1799
12. Napoleon
13. Conclusion
IX. Slavery
1. Introduction
2. Numbers and Impact
3. Supply
4. Traders
5. Indentured Labour
6. The Laws of Slavery
7. Slave Revolts in the Second Half of the Seventeenth Century
8. Dissent against Slavery
9. Slave Revolts up to 1765
10. The American Revolution
11. The Abolitionist Movement in Britain
12. The French Revolution
13. Saint Dominique/Haiti
14. The Revolt
15. Conclusion
X. The Wars of North and Eastern Europe
1. Introduction
2. The First Northern War
(a) A Quest for Autonomy
(b) From a Local to a Regional Conflict
(c) Peace
3. The Second Northern War
(a) The End of the Peace
(b) New Rulers and a Chosen Target
(c) The Killing Begins
(d) Poland-Lithuania
(e) The Swedish Invasion of Russia
(f) Russia becomes a World Power
(e) Peace
4. Between the Wars
5. The War of Polish Succession
6. The Austrian War of Succession
7. The Seven Years War
8. Catherine the Great
9. The First Partition of Poland
(a) The Russian Influence
(b) The Risk of a Large-scale Regional War
(c) The Easier Alternative
10. Rebellions against Serfdom
(a) Pugachev
(b) Revolts in the Holy Roman Empire
11. The Almost War of Bavarian Succession
12. The Second Partition of Poland
13. The End of the Commonwealth of Poland-Lithuania
14. Paul I
15. Conclusion
XI. Religion
1. Introduction
2. Enlightenment
3. Religion as a Pretext for War
(a) Switzerland
(b) Eastern Europe
(c) The Omission of Religion in the Major Conflicts
(i) The Intolerance of Louis XIV
(ii) The Nine Years War
(iii) The Conflict of Spanish Succession and the Seven Years War
4. The Movement Towards Tolerance
(a) The United Provinces and Brandenburg
(b) Russia
(c) The Decline of the Papacy and the Habsburg Lands
(d) England
(i) The Republic
(ii) The Restoration
(iii) Charles II
(iv) James II
(v) The Glorious Revolution
(vi) Ireland
(vii) Succession to the Throne of England and the Birth of Britain
(viii) The Continuity of Intolerance
(ix) Towards Tolerance
5. Religion in the Revolutionary Wars
(a) The American War of Independence
(b) The French Revolution
(i) An Intolerant Land
(ii) A Land of Radical Thought
(iii) The Established Religion in the Most Radical Revolution
(iv) A New Cult
(v) Rebalance
6. Conclusion
XII. The Muslim Territories
1. Introduction
2. The Ottoman Empire
(a) The Eastern Mediterranean
(b) Central Europe
(c) Crete
(d) Eastern Europe
3. The Siege of Vienna
(a) Towards Conflict
(b) The Tides of War
(c) Peace
4. North Africa
5. New Ottoman Conflict with Russia
6. New Ottoman Conflict with the Venetians and the Habsburgs
7. The End of the Safavid Dynasty
8. The Rise of Nader Shah
(a) Two Coups, Conflict and a Soft Peace
9. The Austro-Russian and Ottoman War of 1735 to 1739
10. Aurangzeb and the Mughal Empire
11. Nader Shah at Full Strength
(a) The Mughal Empire
(b) Further Conflict with the Ottomans
(c) The End of Nader, the Zand and the Rise of the Qajar.
12. The Rise of the British in India
13. Three Decades of Russian-Ottoman Conflict
(a) Round 1
(b) Round 2
(c) Peace at the End of the Eighteenth Century
14. War and Peace in Eighteenth-century North Africa
15. The Challenge at the Epicentre of the Ottoman Empire
16. Conclusion
XIII. China and its Neighbours
1. Introduction
2. The Shunzhi Emperor
(a) The Conquest of China by the Qing
(b) A New Social Cohesion and External Drive
(c) Neighbours
3. The Kangxi Emperor
(a) Internal Enemies
(b) Taiwan
(c) Japan
(d) Russia
(e) The Dzungar and Tibet
4. The Yongzheng Emperor
5. The Qianlong Emperor
(a) Solidifying the Realm: The Dzungar, Jinchuan and Xinjiang Campaigns
(b) Myanmar/Burma
(c) Tibet
6. Europeans
(a) Japan
(b) Siam
(c) China
(d) Korea
(e) Vietnam
7. Conclusion
XIV. Grand Plans for Peace
1. Introduction
2. Hobbes
3. Penn
4. Leibniz
5. The Abbé Charles de Saint-Pierre
6. Vattel and Wolff
7. Voltaire
8. Rousseau
9. Bentham
10. Kant
11. Conclusion
XV. Conclusion
1. Absolute Rulers
2. Religion
3. Ideologies of the Enlightenment
4. The Muslim Territories
5. China and Asia
Index
Copyright Page

Citation preview

THE CAUSES OF WAR: VOLUME IV: 1650–1800 This is the fourth volume of a projected six-volume series charting the causes of war from 3000 BCE to the present day, written by a leading international lawyer, and using as its principal materials the documentary history of international law, largely in the form of treaties and the negotiations which led up to them. These volumes seek to show why millions of people, over thousands of years, slew each other. In departing from the various theories put forward by historians, anthropologists and psychologists, the author offers a different taxonomy of the causes of war, focusing on the broader settings of politics, religion, migrations and empire-building. These four contexts were dominant and often overlapping justifications during the first three thousand years of human civilisation, for which written records exist. By the year 1800, the contexts of ideology, nationalism and empire building were becoming dominant.

This volume is dedicated to those who keep striving to find the pathways to peaceful co-existence.

The Causes of War Volume IV: 1650–1800

Alexander Gillespie

Contents I.

Introduction 1. The Conversation on Sunday Afternoon 2. Utopia 3. Facts 4. Casus Belli in Practice 5. Volumes One to Three 6. Volume Four II. The Glorious Revolution 1. Introduction 2. Republics (a) The Republic of the United Provinces (b) The Republic of Oliver Cromwell 3. The First War between the Dutch and English Republics (a) The Reasons for War (b) The Clash (c) The Peace 4. Allies with France, War with Spain 5. The Restoration (a) The End of the Commonwealth (b) The Promises of Charles II (c) The Early Years 6. Alliance with Portugal and Further War with Spain 7. A Second War with the Dutch, and then the French (a) The Reasons for War (b) The Killing Begins (c) The War Expands (d) The Treaty of Breda 8. Alliance with France, Further War against the Dutch, and Another Peace 9. War and Peace with English and the Indigenous Communities in the Colonies 10. The Causes of the Revolution in England 11. The Invasion of England (a) William and Mary (b) The Invitation (c) The International Politics of the Invasion (d) Setting Foot on the Shores of England (e) The Denunciation of James II

12. The Glorious Revolution 13. John Locke 14. Constitutional Monarchy Entrenched 15. Liberty 16. Conclusion III. The Wars of Louis XIV 1. Introduction 2. The Ongoing Conflict with Spain (a) Peace (b) Maria Theresa of Spain 3. The War of Spanish Inheritance (a) The Justification (b) The Action (c) The Creation of a Collective Force against France (d) Peace, kind of (e) Planning for the Next Long-term Conflict 4. The War of France and England against the Dutch Republic (a) The Reasons (b) Planning (c) The Killing Begins (d) The Dutch Survival via the Re-creation of a Web of Alliances (e) The Expanding Franco-Dutch War (f) Peace with the Treaties of Nijmegen 5. The Reunion Wars (a) The Thinking of the French King (b) The Response of his Neighbours (c) Truce (d) Breach (e) The Invasion of England by William of Orange 6. The Nine Years War (a) The Grand Alliance I (b) The War in Europe (c) The War Outside Europe (d) The Peace of Ryswick 7. The War of Spanish Succession (a) The Plan to Avoid the War (b) The Slide to War (c) The Treaty of the Hague (d) The Killing (e) The Grand Alliance Begins to Get the Upper Hand (f) Louis XIV Refuses to Buckle (g) The 1713 Treaties of Utrecht (h) The 1714 Treaties of Rastatt and Baden

8. Conclusion IV. The Interregnum 1. Introduction 2. Succession and Dynastic Considerations (a) The Pragmatic Sanction and the Habsburg Succession (b) British Succession (c) French Succession 3. The War of the Quadruple Alliance 4. The 1720s (a) War between Spain and Britain (b) The Return and Balance of Peace 5. Skirting a Major Conflict in the 1730s (a) The Polish Succession (b) Jenkins Ear 6. Conclusion V. The War of Austrian Succession 1. Introduction 2. The Prize 3. Frederick II 4. The Opportunities for Others of the Habsburg Inheritance 5. Splintering the Opposition and Building New Alliances 6. The Slide Towards World War 7. Coming to the Boil 8. Full Boil 9. Bonnie Prince Charlie 10. Expansion and Exhaustion 11. The Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle 12. Conclusion VI. The Seven Years War 1. Introduction 2. The New Plan 3. Trouble in the Colonies 4. Austria Backs Away from its Alliance with Britain 5. Britain Makes a Deal with Russia 6. The Treaty of Westminster Trumps that with Russia 7. Misreading the Opposition 8. New Friends and New Neutrals: The First Treaties of Versailles 9. The Deepening Conflict 10. The Invasion of Saxony 11. The Widening Conflict in India and North America 12. The Expansion of the Anti-Prussian Alliance 13. Extreme Pressure Applied on Prussia 14. The Push Back

15. A Good Year for Britain 16. The Pressure on Prussia and Victories for Britain 17. The Entry of Spain 18. The Exit of Russia 19. The Last Actions 20. The Peace of Paris 21. The Peace of Hubertusburg 22. Conclusion VII. The War of American Independence 1. Introduction 2. Before the Revolution 3. After the Seven Years War 4. Land and Native Americans 5. Sugar and Stamps 6. A Revised Approach 7. Tea 8. The Intolerable Acts 9. 1774: The Reaction 10. A Shot Heard Across the World 11. The Justification and Escalation 12. The First Help and Assistance 13. Common Sense 14. The Declaration of Independence 15. Military Survival and Political Cohesion 16. The French Enter the War 17. As the War Grinds on in North America, it Expands into Other Parts of the World 18. Spain Enters the Fray 19. Tupac’s Rebellion in Peru 20. A Global War 21. The League of Armed Neutrality 22. The Last Years of the Conflict 23. Peace (a) The Settlement between Britain and the Allies of the United States (b) The Settlement between Britain and the United States 24. The Native American Question 25. What the Americans Fought for 26. The United States and the Wider World in the 1790s 27. The French Revolution and the Turn Towards Isolationism 28. Conclusion VIII. The French Revolution 1. Introduction 2. Kings

(a) Louis XIV (b) Louis XV (c) Louis XVI 3. Philosophers 4. The Fuse to Revolution in France (a) The Assembly of Notables (b) The Estates General (c) The National Assembly (d) The Bastille, 14 July 1789 (e) The Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Citizen (f) The Mistake 5. The Foreign Context (a) The United Provinces and the Batavian Revolution (b) The Austrian Netherlands, the Brabant Revolution and France (c) The View from Britain 6. War (a) Preparing for Impact (b) The Killing Begins (c) The Execution of a King 7. The First Coalition against the Republic of France 8. Internal Enemies (a) Within the First Alliance (b) The Terror (c) The Return to Stability within France 9. The War Changes, Turns and Expands (a) Survival (b) The Fragmentation of the First Coalition (c) Concentrated Forces on Fewer Enemies (d) The Widening War (e) Peace in Italy and Peace with Austria 10. Britain Fights Alone (a) Ireland (b) Reform in Paris (c) The Invasion of Egypt 11. The Second Coalition (a) Another Year of Blood: 1799 12. Napoleon 13. Conclusion IX. Slavery 1. Introduction 2. Numbers and Impact 3. Supply 4. Traders

5. Indentured Labour 6. The Laws of Slavery 7. Slave Revolts in the Second Half of the Seventeenth Century 8. Dissent against Slavery 9. Slave Revolts up to 1765 10. The American Revolution 11. The Abolitionist Movement in Britain 12. The French Revolution 13. Saint Dominique/Haiti 14. The Revolt 15. Conclusion X. The Wars of North and Eastern Europe 1. Introduction 2. The First Northern War (a) A Quest for Autonomy (b) From a Local to a Regional Conflict (c) Peace 3. The Second Northern War (a) The End of the Peace (b) New Rulers and a Chosen Target (c) The Killing Begins (d) Poland-Lithuania (e) The Swedish Invasion of Russia (f) Russia becomes a World Power (e) Peace 4. Between the Wars 5. The War of Polish Succession 6. The Austrian War of Succession 7. The Seven Years War 8. Catherine the Great 9. The First Partition of Poland (a) The Russian Influence (b) The Risk of a Large-scale Regional War (c) The Easier Alternative 10. Rebellions against Serfdom (a) Pugachev (b) Revolts in the Holy Roman Empire 11. The Almost War of Bavarian Succession 12. The Second Partition of Poland 13. The End of the Commonwealth of Poland-Lithuania 14. Paul I 15. Conclusion XI. Religion

1. 2. 3.

XII.

Introduction Enlightenment Religion as a Pretext for War (a) Switzerland (b) Eastern Europe (c) The Omission of Religion in the Major Conflicts (i) The Intolerance of Louis XIV (ii) The Nine Years War (iii) The Conflict of Spanish Succession and the Seven Years War 4. The Movement Towards Tolerance (a) The United Provinces and Brandenburg (b) Russia (c) The Decline of the Papacy and the Habsburg Lands (d) England (i) The Republic (ii) The Restoration (iii) Charles II (iv) James II (v) The Glorious Revolution (vi) Ireland (vii) Succession to the Throne of England and the Birth of Britain (viii) The Continuity of Intolerance (ix) Towards Tolerance 5. Religion in the Revolutionary Wars (a) The American War of Independence (b) The French Revolution (i) An Intolerant Land (ii) A Land of Radical Thought (iii) The Established Religion in the Most Radical Revolution (iv) A New Cult (v) Rebalance 6. Conclusion The Muslim Territories 1. Introduction 2. The Ottoman Empire (a) The Eastern Mediterranean (b) Central Europe (c) Crete (d) Eastern Europe 3. The Siege of Vienna (a) Towards Conflict (b) The Tides of War (c) Peace

4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

North Africa New Ottoman Conflict with Russia New Ottoman Conflict with the Venetians and the Habsburgs The End of the Safavid Dynasty The Rise of Nader Shah (a) Two Coups, Conflict and a Soft Peace 9. The Austro-Russian and Ottoman War of 1735 to 1739 10. Aurangzeb and the Mughal Empire 11. Nader Shah at Full Strength (a) The Mughal Empire (b) Further Conflict with the Ottomans (c) The End of Nader, the Zand and the Rise of the Qajar. 12. The Rise of the British in India 13. Three Decades of Russian-Ottoman Conflict (a) Round 1 (b) Round 2 (c) Peace at the End of the Eighteenth Century 14. War and Peace in Eighteenth-century North Africa 15. The Challenge at the Epicentre of the Ottoman Empire 16. Conclusion XIII. China and its Neighbours 1. Introduction 2. The Shunzhi Emperor (a) The Conquest of China by the Qing (b) A New Social Cohesion and External Drive (c) Neighbours 3. The Kangxi Emperor (a) Internal Enemies (b) Taiwan (c) Japan (d) Russia (e) The Dzungar and Tibet 4. The Yongzheng Emperor 5. The Qianlong Emperor (a) Solidifying the Realm: The Dzungar, Jinchuan and Xinjiang Campaigns (b) Myanmar/Burma (c) Tibet 6. Europeans (a) Japan (b) Siam (c) China (d) Korea (e) Vietnam

7. Conclusion XIV. Grand Plans for Peace 1. Introduction 2. Hobbes 3. Penn 4. Leibniz 5. The Abbé Charles de Saint-Pierre 6. Vattel and Wolff 7. Voltaire 8. Rousseau 9. Bentham 10. Kant 11. Conclusion XV. Conclusion 1. Absolute Rulers 2. Religion 3. Ideologies of the Enlightenment 4. The Muslim Territories 5. China and Asia Index

I Introduction 1.

The Conversation on Sunday Afternoon

T

this book is the causes of war. It is the fourth volume on the topic, covering the years between 1650 and 1800. The complementary volumes I have written around this topic deal with the customs and laws of war, covering the methods by which humans have fought and killed each other for the last 5,000 years.1 This book is different: it is about why people fight, not how. My interests in the causes and practices of warfare began with a discussion I had with my mother over 20 years ago, towards the end of the twentieth century, on whether humanity was better or worse than in the past. Simply put, was humanity making progress or not? Whilst I argued in the affirmative, my mother argued in the negative. As with many such lunchtime discussions on Sunday afternoons, trying to find robust benchmarks was (and is) very difficult, if not impossible. Although the conversation on this particular Sunday afternoon moved on to other topics, this question of ‘progress’ caught my attention. It has remained on my mind for the last 20 years, during which time I have gone from moments of optimism to pessimism. My supposition is that the causes of warfare have changed for the better – that is, progress has occurred, with the reasons we justify killing becoming more acceptable than in the past. To prove this point requires a great amount of research to show the causes of war and how they have changed. This means that this volume, which covers the years between 1650 and 1800, is a stepping-stone towards my final answer. The writing of this volume began in Ghent, Belgium, and finished 18 months later at Whangamata beach, New Zealand, early in 2020. HE TOPIC OF

2.

Utopia

There are many philosophical discussions around the idea of ‘progress’.2 These are often linked to various forms of Utopian thinking.3 This is especially so as regards the question on which I am focusing, as the flipside of any question about the causes of war is the search for enduring peace. I struggle to think how many gallons of ink have been expended in debates on this question, or on suggestions as to the correct path to Utopia, where the difficulties of

the past are bypassed and a bright, violence-free future awaits humanity. There is no monopoly on these plans, and libraries are full of variations on themes that run to thousands of miles of shelving, from theology to ideology, cross-referenced to a bewildering collection of historical epochs and philosophical musings. The idea of a ‘Golden Age’, in which there was no warfare, can be found in the writings of, amongst others, the scholars of ancient China and India. Such views were mirrored in Greece and Rome: the Roman poet Ovid wrote of a previous time when ‘men kept faith and did what was right … the peoples passed their lives in security and peace, without need for armies’.4 These dreams later flowered into the eschatology and promises of peaceful times to come of religions like Christianity and Islam. The same seed, that if society was reorganised grew into a new plant in the Enlightenment, much of which, is the focus on this volume. The only problem was that the new thinking of this epoch resulted in more, not less, war. The difference from the past was the clearer introduction of new causes for fighting.

3.

Facts

The methodology of this book is somewhat complicated. The skeleton on which it is built comprises treaties. I place great weight on the bilateral and international instruments of each age, as despite all the difficulties posed by different languages and different ages, treaties and/or agreements reflect in the clearest way possible how different nations see a shared problem and shared solution. As such, at each point the law, or at least the settlement by which peace has been reached, has been set out as simply as possible. In places where there were no treaties, the bones are taken from the practice of key players of the period, which often became custom. In each epoch I have attempted to read and quote the original sources. These have often been supplemented by the best monographs I can find on each epoch. However, this volume, the fourth, is different to the first three on this count, as the density of treaties and reliable primary and secondary sources increased considerably compared to earlier volumes. Within this methodology it is important to keep in mind, that when reading historical texts and contemporary interpretations, that there is a high risk that mistakes have occurred, or that the original sources were wrong, mistaken or have been taken out of context. I was conscious of this risk in writing this book, as at various points only fragments of history are available. In places I think these fragments resemble dinosaur bones in the desert: a huge amount of material is often missing, and what remains can be assembled to make a variety of bizarre species bearing no relation to what actually existed. My interpretations are the way in which I see the evidence. I have no doubt others will see it differently. I particularly urge caution in the areas where numbers of those killed have been included. Nevertheless, despite the uncertainties in this area, I have included dates, figures and locations to provide the roughest of gauges, by which the impacts of decisions concerning warfare can be seen.

4.

CASUS BELLI in Practice

Casus belli is a Latin expression meaning the justification for acts of war. The noun casus means ‘incident’, ‘rupture’ or ‘case’, while belli means ‘of war’. The need for people to have a just cause can be the difference between an act of heroism and an act of murder. For this reason, hundreds, if not thousands of philosophers and leaders of states justified why bloodshed was necessary, and why the following loss or acquisition of property was fair. This point about property is an underlying recognition in all the chapters that follow: the overwhelming majority of all the wars studied in the period covered by this book have the control and/or ownership of resources as their result. No matter which way the causes for violence are cut, the results are nearly always the same – the control and/or ownership of resources (from physical resources through to the ability to draw tax) can change hands or be defended. This is the practical result of nearly all the conflicts involving the great diversity of cultures operating within the 150 years documented in in this volume.

5.

Volumes One to Three

Volume four on the Causes of War is different from the first three volumes in this collection. In the first volume, I divided the causes of war from 3000 BCE to 1000 CE into the categories of empire, migratory peoples, politics and religion. In many ways, this worked for the initial period, as, when I looked back on history, although the ideas were of a currency that could be understood in the twenty-first century, most of the regions, empires, actors and countries were not. With the period of second volume, from 1000 to 1400, it became apparent to me that while the regions, empires, actors and countries with which I was dealing were very familiar, there was a much greater density of information, and some of the patterns discernible in Volume 1 started to disappear. This was particularly obvious in connection with migratory peoples. Politics remained the same, albeit with a greater division between absolute sovereigns, a third force of nobles and/or aristocracy as counterweights, and the development of constitutional mechanisms to limit power. The real change was in the development of peasant revolutions. An additional difference was the occurrence of wars over dynastic issues, in which both marriages and debates about mechanisms for patrimony became much more common. Finally, religion remained a constant cause for war, both in terms of fighting other faiths and of inter-faith warfare. The main difference was in Asia, where the Mongols, and the Song and Ming dynasties, managed to relegate religious justifications for warfare. The wars covered in volume three, those between 1400 and 1650, which have the greatest resemblance to those that went before them in Europe, were the wars caused by those either wanting to be/or to remove the existing monarch, and/or seeking to expand their realm by military force. The exemplars of these were the Hundred Years War, the War of the Roses, the wars for the expansion of France and the Italian Wars. The dominance of these patterns diminished in western Europe after 1550, after which considerations of religion became much more infused. If there was a notable change in this period of volume three, it was that wars about religion, and especially inter-Christian wars, dominated the epoch. The other noticeable

difference in this period was the development of wars in the New World, as found in the northern, central and southern parts of the Americas. The causes for warfare in this area were built upon foundations that the lands that other peoples had already occupied, had been gifted by the papacy or a more Protestant God. War in eastern Europe, broadly followed the patterns of the earlier centuries, with the notable change that everything was getting bigger, of which the rise in power and prestige of both Russia as well as Poland-Lithuania, was most notable. Also in this period of volume 3, inter-Muslim wars became much more pronounced, predicated on a drive for dominance, but wrapped in justifications being that if one was not fulfilling his duties, such as either being a heretic, or failing to persecute heretics, or failing to protect pilgrims, they could be removed. Muslim wars with Christian forces were much less nuanced. Finally, with Asia, in China, the Ming dynasty was replaced by the Qing. Over the same time period, Vietnam became more independent, while Korea became closer to the orbit of China. Japan, became unified, and when fully unified, for the first time in its history, projected its power outwards, invading Korea with a view to conquering China.

6.

Volume Four

In many ways, the conflicts between 1650 and 1750 were very similar to those which occurred before them, especially when conflict was related to the interests of absolute monarchs in the pursuit of their dynastic objectives. For the period of this book, Louis XIV is probably the premier example of how monarchs could behave in war when driven by considerations of glory, revenge and opportunity for both himself and what he believed was necessary for his country. These examples played out in 32 of the 54 years that he would rule, until his death in 1715. Although there is a hint of religion in this context, this was minimal, and was only important when it linked to the wider interests that Louis possessed. His warfare was not about ideals of freedom, tolerance, restraints upon absolute government, or the rights of people. Rather, warfare was about the direct interests of the monarch. This pattern was evident in the Nine Years War, and especially the War of Spanish Succession. After Louis XIV passed, the next best example of this type of thinking was with the war of Austrian Succession; and then its sequence, the Seven Years War. There were some changes with these types of conflicts, as the interests of monarchs, could also become the interests of countries; nations which were not absolute monarchies, such as Britain and the United Provinces, could still get pulled into the conflict. Alternatively, they could opt for neutrality, in what were, in essence, whirlpools of international diplomacy. In these whirlpools, those who were once friends could become enemies. The other difference was that these wars were increasingly global affairs. From the Nine Years War at the end of the seventeenth century, the tendency for colonies to be pulled into war, and fought over, added to the geographical spread of the killing. Again, in each instance, these wars were not about political constitutional options or human freedom. Rather, they were conflicts that started, and spread, because of the opportunity to take lands (or colonies) belonging to other sovereigns, with both risk and help tied directly to who was in alliance with whom.

The wars of northern and eastern Europe were also part of this pattern. These were conflicts in which great nations would rise (Russia), while others (Poland-Lithuania) would disappear. Others such as Austria, Prussia, Sweden and Denmark, would battle to the edge of their existence, in types of conflict that were unique to this part of the world. These wars were bloody, extreme and complicated, as factors such as ethnicity, religion, revenge, fear and opportunity would all repeatedly collide. In its most extreme form, alliances could lead to the extinction of countries. This was most evident with Poland-Lithuania. This realm, which had existed since 1569 and was one of the most populous countries in seventeenthcentury Europe, had been carved up between Orthodox Russia, Catholic Austria and Protestant Prussia by the end of the eighteenth century. Although these conflicts were similar to those in the past, there were two significant differences as to why wars were fought. The first was the decline of religion as a justification for conflict. This trend, is most evident at the external level. Religious considerations or context were barely seen in the Nine Years War, the Wars of Spanish Succession, Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War. The exception was in eastern Europe, where warfare involving religious considerations could erupt to such an extent that religious intolerance was used as a justification for Russian intervention in Poland-Lithuania in the second half of the eighteenth century. In terms of internal conflict, most of the primary European countries progressed to a position in which tolerance of different faiths became the norm, rather than the exception, by the end of the eighteenth century. This end point was the exact opposite of when this study began, in 1650, when only a few Protestant countries inched their way towards tolerance on questions of religion. By the end of the eighteenth century, the vast majority of European countries, both Protestant and Catholic, were on the road to tolerance. The movement towards tolerance ended up being the strongest in the revolutions of America and France, with the latter becoming almost anti-religion for the early period of its revolt. The second trend was the rise of ideological reasons, which were the antithesis of the absolute monarchies of the past. This meant that the people (as opposed to loyalty), increasingly, gained control of the powers around them. The country which started this trend in the second half of the eighteenth century was England and its Glorious Revolution. Here, the English, soon to become the British, fought for a constitutional monarchy, where the monarchy was tightly tethered, and beholden to a populace that consented to their rule. This was a revolutionary doctrine. Even more so was the idea that citizens could hold rights of their own accord, and possess protections against the power of the state. From habeas corpus to the evolution of a free press and free speech, the English example would be the steppingstone for the epoch-defining revolutions in America and France in the decades to come. Just under 100 years later, the American Revolution advanced this cause of warfare even further, with the result that a powerful new federalised republic was created, in which the people seized authority, their rights were upgraded, and the rights of their sovereign evaporated. The French Revolution followed next. The thinking of the period meant that it was much more radical than both the Glorious and American revolutions. Whereas one ended up as a constitutional monarchy, the other, with independence for a former colony, the French Revolution was a near unstoppable force on the international stage. What began with the

philosophies of the Enlightenment ended with the near absolute power of Napoleon. Between its beginning and its end, the French Revolution unleashed war, in both principle and practice, unlike anything that had been seen before. Warfare under the banner of liberty, equality and fraternity, changed the world in ways previously unforeseen. The last justification of war in terms of Enlightenment values involved revolts, and then wars, against slavery. Although the institution of slavery was growing quickly, warfare as a justification to end slavery should have been the easiest case to defend in the period of this book. Slavery was the absolute antithesis of any ideals of equality, liberty and freedom – the centrifuge within which the Enlightenment spun around from the middle of the eighteenth century. However, despite this obvious truth, the history of the period rarely shows examples of where slaves took matters into their own hands, with Haiti being the exemplar, as the only instance where the result of war was their freedom from slavery. The point to note is that this action was domestic. These people were not freed by the actions of others. Even in the foremost revolutions of the period, America, distinctly looked the other way to avoid the full implications of what equality should look like; while in France, slavery only came to an end begrudgingly. When Napoleon was in power, he tried to turn the clock backwards. These patterns and changes in warfare during 1650 and 1800 resulted in an impressive growth in the theory of international relations and, importantly, of schemes that were designed to prevent future wars. Although none of these schemes changed the world at this point, they did lay the seeds for what international governance would look like in the future. In terms of sequence, these theories went from the very pessimistic views of Hobbes, to the wise practical suggestions for types of European collectives, as sketched out by Penn, Leibniz, and Saint-Pierre. Rousseau and Voltaire would put the brakes on such ideas, emphasising the wider need for social change before regional institutions could be established. Finally, Bentham and Kant added their thoughts, explaining that although these were all good ideas, without the inclusion of the regulation of military forces, colonies, trade and republican forms of government (as opposed to absolute sovereigns) there were limits to what could be achieved. In terms of the two primary areas of global significance outside of Europe, namely the Muslim worlds and Asia, change was also evident. With the Muslim world, the story between the years 1650 and 1800 is one of remarkable decline. At the beginning of the period covered by this book, in 1650, the power of the Muslim world was massive. The Ottoman Empire was vast, the Safavid Dynasty was powerful. The Mughals ruled most of India and their control was increasing. By the end of the period, in 1800, the Ottoman Empire was in full retreat; the Safavid Dynasty had disappeared from history and become a revolving door of power-holders; while the power of Muslim India had been lost. As the regions in India scrambled for power, the British started to gain control over it all. At the beginning of the period covered by this book, the Qing Empire of China emerged. To eclipse one dynasty and replace it with another requires a vast amount of blood. This was the case in China, although the amount of blood that was spilt in internal conflicts dropped considerably as the seventeenth century ended and the regime became more peaceful, inclusive and galvanised against external enemies. The external focus saw the Qing, slowly

but surely gain control over several areas. This was most evident in Taiwan where several Mongolian populations and Muslim tribes had their autonomy increasingly stripped away following military campaigns which became increasingly brutal. Korea was kept in a close vassal relationship and Tibet became increasingly part of the Qing world. Japan was kept at arm’s length, while Siam, Burma and Vietnam all experienced Chinese intervention, but could not be folded into the Qing realm. The Europeans, who were actively trying to establish relationships with China (and every other powerful country in Asia) were increasingly placed under tight control. Japan and Korea followed this same path. The exception was with Siam and Vietnam, whose leaders, in need of the military help that Europeans could offer, opened their doors.

1 Gillespie, A (2011) A History of the Laws of War, Vol 1: Combatants; Vol 2: Civilians and Vol 3: Arms Control (Oxford, Hart Publishing). 2 Doren, V (1969) The Idea of Progress (NYC, Praeger); Hiderbrand, G (ed.) The Idea of Progress: A Collection of Readings (Los Angeles, California University Press); Melzer, A (ed.) (1995) History and the Idea of Progress (NYC, Cornell University Press). 3 Manuel, F (1979) Utopian Thought in the Western World (NYC, Harvard University Press); Manuel, F (ed.) (1969) Utopias and Utopian Thought (NYC, Condor); Buber, M (1949) Paths in Utopia (London, Routledge); Mumford, L (1962) The Story of Utopias (NYC, Viking); Bernini, M (1950) Journey Through Utopia (London, Routledge). 4 Ovid, Metamorphoses trans Raeburn, D (2004) (London, Penguin) 1.89–100. Note also Hesiod, The Works and Days trans Most, L (2003) (Boston MA, Loeb) 1.146.

II The Glorious Revolution Introduction

1.

T

this chapter is ‘the Glorious Revolution’ but it is really about the steps leading to that point, what happened, and what followed. It is closely interlinked with the chapter on religion and that on Louis XIV. That is, considerations of violence related to these questions of theology, as well as conflict against a traditional enemy, cannot be fully separated from the political considerations in this chapter, of why warfare was legitimate against a sovereign, and the way that peace was built afterwards. The way the English, soon to become the British, approached this issue is critical in thinking about the causes of war. When England was a republic, it could fight fellow republics of the same religious faith, as well as fight with, or against, monarchies of a different theological flavour. When England slipped back into being an increasingly untethered monarchy, it would repeat the same patterns, fighting the United Provinces, Spain and France. Accordingly, there was not a vast difference between the two. When, however, the English – in essence – fought themselves with the Glorious Revolution, the pendulum swung back from a full republic to almost reverting back into an absolute monarchy, finally settling on the middle ground of a constitutional monarchy. The difference that followed with the Glorious Revolution was that, in terms of civil war, the English fought for a constitutional monarchy, where the monarchy was tightly tethered, and beholden to a populace that consented to their rule. This was a revolutionary doctrine. Even more so was the idea that citizens could hold rights of their own accord, and possess protections against the power of the state. From habeas corpus to the evolution of a free press and free speech, the English example would be the stepping-stone for the epochdefining revolutions in both America and France in decades to come. HE TITLE OF

2.

Republics

Republicanism was/is the principle that citizens are the foundations of the state and power resides in their hands, not those of a king or a queen. In its furthermost form, there is no monarch. In its moderated form, the monarch is held in check by constitutional

considerations and the legal rights of the citizens. In the middle of the seventeenth century, monarchy – of an increasingly absolute form – was the rule, and republics were the exception. Of these exceptions, there were the examples of the United Provinces and England, and a few small enclaves in both Switzerland and Italy. Of the former, the Republic of Switzerland was much more of an aristocracy which became increasingly authoritarian, in which 13 cantons reluctantly came together for shared military purposes (including stopping peasant uprisings). Of the latter, in Italy, the three republics (Venice, Genoa and Lucca) were all shadows of their former selves, in which power was held by very small cliques of the aristocracy.1 (a) The Republic of the United Provinces The United Provinces, in the immediate decades after 1650 were strongly republican. However, the simplicity of the term ‘republican’ does not do justice to the complexity of the political relations in that country which was, in fact, not one single republic, but rather a federation of seven semi-sovereign territories, each with its own special characteristics, governed by bodies of representatives nominated largely by the burgher oligarchies of the major towns. Executive power in the civil sphere was in the hands of an elected pensionary, while the military forces for each area were commanded by a hereditary Stadtholder (a kind of national military commander) who was, in five of the provinces, the Prince of Orange. The government of the Republic as a whole was in the hands of the states-general, a body of deputies nominated by the estates of the seven provinces and a 12-man council of state. There was no chief magistrate but, in practice, the grand pensionary of Holland was the dominant figure in decision making. At the macro level, given that unanimity was required to made federal decisions committing all members, the overall governance was often weak, and important decisions about the few national positions that did exist, such as with the Stadtholder, were nuanced, and their power far from absolute.2 The thinking, as evidenced by the foremost scholar of the United Provinces around this point, Baruch Spinoza, was that more democratic structures with a wide franchise (especially when filled by the uneducated, unwise and unrestrained) were poor political choices, as ‘the function of the State’ was not to provide individual equality and franchise, but, ‘purely and simply to guarantee peace and security’. It followed for Spinoza that the best State was that in which, ‘men live their lives in concord and in which their rights are inviolate’.3 (b) The Republic of Oliver Cromwell While the existing republic of the United Provinces was important, the most radical experiment in political organisation in this period occurred between 1649 and 1660 in England and Wales, and then Scotland and Ireland, when the lands went from monarchy to the brand new and full republic. This political conclusion was the result of the end of the bloodshed that was the English Civil War. The Republic itself was declared by legislation, as

adopted by the Rump Parliament in the middle of 1649, before the last battles at Dunbar in 1650, and then Worchester in 1651, added a final 6,000 to the gravesites. These losses were accompanied by the death of the former king, Charles I, who had been beheaded at the beginning of 1649. Accompanying the thud, the House of Lords was declared by the Commons as ‘useless and dangerous to the People of England’ and henceforth ‘wholly abolished’.4 The body which allowed the execution of the king, and the abolition of the House of Lords, was the Rump Parliament. This sat from late 1648. This was the last remaining element of English government that had been purged and was beholden to the military. In 1649 it was this body that declared England, to be: [A] Commonwealth and Free State, and shall from henceforth be governed as a Commonwealth and Free State by the supreme authority of this nation, the representatives of the people in Parliament.5

It was in this climate in 1651 that one of the most important books on political philosophy ever written, the Leviathan, was published in London by Thomas Hobbes. Hobbes held the view that an all-powerful Leviathan was necessary to achieve security and stability for the populace to escape a, ‘condition called war … of every man, against every man’.6 Hobbes was sceptical of republican types of governance (as opposed to monarchies or aristocracies) that Cromwell was trying to organise, as he believed they could degenerate into factions from which would spring, ‘the source of sedition and civil war’.7 How much Cromwell was influenced by Hobbes is a matter for debate. Nonetheless, the Rump was diluted into the Bare-Bones Parliament in early July1653, after Cromwell abolished it for being full of ‘injustice, delays of justice, self-interest and other faults’.8 Cromwell then selected a new governing body of ‘nominated persons of fidelity’9 (Church members), in an attempt to stop the infighting and find a stable political solution. In turn, this was abolished by Cromwell in late 1653 and a ‘Protectorate’ was created. The Instrument of Government explained: That the supreme legislative authority of the Commonwealth of England, Scotland and Ireland, … shall be and reside in one person and the people assembled in Parliament; the style of which person shall be the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth … Oliver Cromwell … is hereby declared to be, Lord Protector …10

The Protectorate was seen as a temporary measure (but was reincarnated three times, reintroducing a type of upper chamber with a veto) to cover the Republican Commonwealth. With this, the Lord Protector (Cromwell) was elected for life (as Protector, not king, he explicitly rejected the latter title), while the Parliament of people, ‘legally chosen by a free election’11 was recognised as the supreme authority in the land. It was then rebooted with 400 (reorganised) seats, with 30 seats each for Ireland and Scotland, thus allowing them a voice for the first time in Westminster. These people, the gentry, were elected by less than 5 per cent of the privileged, property-owning and educated part of the population who were enfranchised. At the same time, censorship was tight, so that the more radical voices of people such as James Harrington (calling for more controls over the decision makers) were silenced by jail.12

3.

The First War between the Dutch and English Republics

In many ways, the first Anglo-Dutch War (1652–1654) should not have occurred. Both were Protestant Republican countries. These similarities were so striking (especially compared to the rest of Europe) that Oliver Cromwell thought that they should be joined into one great Protestant Republic. However, this unification could not be achieved because of the recent history between the two countries. (a) The Reasons for War The Dutch Stadtholder William II, the Prince of Orange, had been sympathetic to the nowexecuted English king, Charles I, with some of the British royal family finding exile in the United Provinces. This was not a surprise as the wife of William II of Orange was Mary Henrietta, the oldest daughter of the executed Charles I. Their son was the future William III (the eventual Stadtholder of the United Provinces and King of England, Scotland and Ireland). However, William II had died in late 1650, and the office had not been refilled, as the future William III was only a child. Despite this current limbo, at the point of the negotiations, the memories of recent events and loyalties were fresh. The second reason unification could not be agreed was because the Dutch felt that if they joined England, they could end up playing second fiddle and would lose the sovereignty that they had fought so hard for in earlier conflicts.13 The final, and most obvious, reason why the two countries ended up in conflict was because of their very different views on trade. The English view, like that of most of Europe, was of the economic school of mercantilism. This view held that optimum national wealth could be created via national monopolies, taxation barriers and trade restrictions in terms of with whom, what, and how trade between European countries and their colonies was controlled. The goal of the mercantilist mind was, simply, to make more money trading or selling with foreign nations (and their colonies), than was parted with in exchange with them, and to create mechanisms to obtain the share of others.14 The tool that the English developed to achieve their goals in this area was the 1651 Navigation Act. This was linked to Cromwell’s desire to reboot the economy of the Commonwealth after the English Civil War. This law aimed for, ‘the increase of the shipping and the encouragement of the navigation of this nation’ to which, thereafter: No goods or commodities whatsoever, of the growth, production or manufacture of Asia, Africa or America, or of any part thereof; or of any Islands belonging to them … shall be imported or brought into this Commonwealth of England, or into Ireland, or [any colony] … in any other ship or … vessel … [unless it] belong[s] … to the People of this Commonwealth.15

The Navigation Act (and the amendments that follow) effectively confined the trade of British colonies with the outside world to ships that were British owned, built, or manned. In addition, the most important elements of colonial production, such as sugar, cotton, tobacco or naval stores were ‘enumerated’. This meant that they could only be exported directly to

British territory. Although the English were willing to make some exceptions to these policies for some countries, they were not willing to do so for the Dutch, because, as the English politician George Monck put it, ‘the Dutch have too much trade, and the English are resolved to take it from them’.16 To enforce all of the existing rules, the English added their view that they could search any foreign vessels in ‘their’ waters. In addition, they argued that all non-English vessels in the North Sea and the Channel (which the English believed was theirs) had to dip their flag, as a show of respect.17 The Dutch, through both practice and the powerful rhetoric of their most famous jurist, Hugo Grotius, had come to realise that the route to economic prosperity was through free trade to which free seas and a freedom of commerce were core. To such Dutch minds, although some forms of protectionism were legitimate, freedom to trade was an overall goal that should be striven for, of which foreign trade monopolies in terms of destinations, products and/or transport methods, were the antithesis. Accordingly, once it was clear that no union was possible between the United Provinces and Cromwell’s Commonwealth, the Dutch refused to accept English demands over the control of trade and naval protocols, especially when on the High Seas (which, the Dutch were at pains to point out, the English did not own).18 (b) The Clash The two navies began firing canon balls at each other at Dover at the end of May 1652 (even before war was declared), after ships from the United Provinces refused to dip their flag to English military vessels. This conflict (with 68 British warships firing into 59 Dutch vessels) was the first of dozens, many of them completely chaotic, massive sea battles. Some 145 vessels pounded each other at Dungeness at the end of November 1652, before the battle of the Gabbard in the middle of June 1653, when 98 Dutch ships fought (and lost 11) to a superior force of 110 English vessels. The finale, at Scheveningen at the end of July 1653 saw some 220 vessels on the water (with the Dutch losing, having 12 captured and six sunk). In human numbers, the cumulative death toll was probably about 5,500 sailors.19 (c) The Peace The year 1654 saw a swirl of diplomatic activity in England. This resulted in deals being struck with Russia,20 Sweden,21 Portugal22 and Denmark.23 All these allowed limited bilateral trade, but all such exchanges had to be consistent with the English Navigation Act. With this principle clearly in mind, the English were also able to find peace with the United Provinces on 5 April 1654, with their jointly agreed (first) Peace of Westminster. With this, the two sides promised a ‘true, firm, and unalterable peace, a more sincere friendship and a more intimate and nearer alliance’.24 Whether on land or water, they committed to treat the other, ‘with all love and friendship’.25 In terms of substantive outcomes, the Dutch

retained their trade dominance over many of the non-English colonies, while in terms of their bilateral trade, both sides promised to be open to the other. The source of disturbance, the 1651 Navigation Act and its restrictions was maintained, to which the two sides agreed to ‘pay the customs that are settled’.26 The treaty also laid down the rules of protocol for passing ships in terms of the right of salute (via either firing a salvo, or dipping the colours). The Dutch would proceed first, and the English would follow, as was traditionally the pattern. Finally, an arbitration mechanism was included, to resolve questions relating to injuries and potential damages suffered by either party during the conflict. One step further, if the four named commissioners could not reach a decision, then the matters were to be referred to experts within the Protestant cantons of Switzerland.27 The final satisfaction to obtain peace was Cromwell’s political pay back to the recent Stadtholder of the United Provinces, via a secret annex to the 1654 treaty. This required the Dutch to pass their own legislation. The resultant Act of Seclusion was meant to prohibit the son (the future King William III of England) of the last Stadtholder from becoming Stadtholder in the future. Cromwell wanted the line of Orange distanced, because he disliked the fact that William II had supported the now-executed King Charles I, and he also disliked the way that an elected position had become the subject of monopoly. The Dutch, who disliked the trend towards autocracy (as opposed to republicanism) of William II, were happy to oblige, agreeing to this as one of the secret preconditions to peace. The result was that the post of Stadtholder remained vacant from 1650 and was only filled again in late July 1672, when the very existence of the country was threatened.

4.

Allies with France, War with Spain

While most of Europe had made peace around the Thirty Years War and settled with the Peace of Westphalia, France and Spain, who had started trading shots in 1635, continued to fight on.28 To bring this conflict to a conclusion, the young French King, Louis XIV worked out that one of the best ways to finally conclude this decades-old war against Spain was to bring in more allies to fight them. The young Catholic monarch of France then made a deal with the English Anglican Republican Oliver Cromwell. The alliance they struck when the French outbid the Spanish to get English help sketched out the division of rewards (for England, Dunkirk) in advance. With this concluded, from 1654, the forces of England began to attack Spanish shipping and colonies in the Caribbean and the Atlantic. The following year, in 1655, the English, having failed to capture (Spanish) Hispaniolia, took the weakly defended Jamaica instead. Although Cromwell cited the cruelty of the Spaniards towards the native inhabitants of the Caribbean as well as the overall problems of the papist government in general, the general English justification was, [J]ust as the Spaniards had taken Jamaica from the Indians, so we English have come to take it from them. As for the pope, he could neither grant lands to others nor delegate the rights to conquer them.29

The alliance with France almost fell apart when the English feared the French were plotting

against them, but calm prevailed and peace was settled between the two allies in early November 1655. The joint alliance was rebooted, and the United Provinces joined the pact against the Spanish.30 The Spanish were so annoyed with the English that their King, Philip IV, made an alliance in 1656 with the exiled Charles II to support his restoration to the throne of England, if he would support Spanish foreign policy objectives, including England leaving Spain’s colonies and Spanish traffic from the region alone. Charles also promised he would help Spain in the taking of Portugal.31 This agreement did not stop the weight of the war. At Valenciennes in mid-July 1656, the French attacked, but were heavily defeated. Thy lost nearly one-fifth of their 25,000 men against a slightly smaller Spanish force. The following year, in April 1657, the English made a fresh alliance with the French32 in which both sides committed to provide, ‘money, troops, ships, guns and everything that may … ruin and destroy the enemy’.33 This deal included not just troop numbers, but also the understanding that whatever the English could take from the Spanish, the French would help defend, and thus: [T]o leave the [England] in the quiet possession, sovereignty and full property of the places, harbours and towns, with all their rights, franchises and jurisdictions, in the same manner as they are now possessed by the King of Spain.34

The English then went forth and destroyed a Spanish treasure fleet at Santa Cruz. Next, in late June 1658, a combined force of 15,000 French and English soldiers captured Dunkirk from the Spanish, whose force of 16,000 (including some 2,000 Royalists, led by James, the Duke of York – the future James II of England) suffered over 1,000 killed and 5,000 captured. Louis then honoured promises he had made to England (with regard to Dunkirk), and then bedded down his positive working relationship with them in late March 1658.35 With a secure peace and positive working relationship with England, he was able to push his French forces directly against the remaining areas of Spanish concern. From this position Louis was able to force Spain to agree to the Treaty of the Pyrenees in late 1659. This stopped the fighting between France (and the French allies, including England) against Spain.36

5.

The Restoration

(a) The End of the Commonwealth As the peace between Spain and France began to come into view, an even greater problem for England occurred when Oliver Cromwell died of natural causes on 3 September 1658. On his death, Oliver Cromwell’s power as Lord Protector was legally (but politically dubiously as this had turned the position into, in essence, a hereditary placement) transferred to his son, Richard Cromwell. However, this was a very uneasy transfer. Although the war with Spain was quickly moving to its conclusion, when Richard was unable to control Parliament, the military and the economy, he was forced to resign.37

The military then ordered Parliament (now to include some of the former excluded members who had previously wanted to reconcile with the monarchy) to reassemble and call a new election in 1660. This new body, with no allegiance to either Cromwell’s Commonwealth or the monarchy, was duly constituted. (b) The Promises of Charles II The new Parliament, made up of Anglicans and Presbyterians, was, on balance, favourable to the return of monarchy. This was considered a better alternative than going back to the recent model of the Commonwealth especially since the exiled Charles II was busy making promises that he would not repeat any of his father’s mistakes. He made these promises in the Declaration of Breda. Charles II committed to a ‘free Parliament, by which, upon the word of a King, we will be advised’.38 He also promised a general amnesty for most of those involved in the civil war against his father, allowing those not directly involved his father’s death to be ‘pardoned, released, indemnified, discharged and put in utter oblivion’.39 (c) The Early Years Given the delicacy of this restoration, most of these promises noted above were remarkably undefined, with the Parliamentarians preferring to trust the young Charles II, rather than demand constitutional rules that would deliver unequivocal promises about the supremacy of Parliament, constitutional order or the independence of the monarch. Accordingly, there was some relief when the House of Lords was reconstituted. However it was made clear that although the peers still enjoyed a special status, their privileges were minimal and, unlike in Europe, they were still, like all other citizens, expected to pay tax. Parliament also added new laws, such as the Triennial Parliaments Act of 1664, which stipulated that an election must be called at least once every three years.40 However, in other matters, it appeared that very little had changed from the time of Charles I. For example, all printing presses were licensed from 1662 and the control of imported printed work, continued as it had been previously. The difference now was that the much-hated Star Chamber (which had been removed in 1640), was replaced with a slightly more transparent legislative body that was tasked with pre-censorship by licensing. This meant that from 1662 the only books that could be printed were those which were not, ‘contrary to the good life or good manners’.41

6.

Alliance with Portugal and Further War with Spain

The English Parliament also sought to control King Charles II by regulating the size of his pension. However, Charles, through his prerogative of control over many aspects of foreign

policy, overcame this difficulty. Specifically, he responded by taking money from his cousin, Louis XIV. He then sold Dunkirk back to him. To help oil this relationship, in 1661 the sister of Charles II, Henrietta, married the French Duke of Orleans, thus creating a strong connection between the French and English crowns.42 Finally, Charles II married (the Catholic) Catherine of Braganza of Portugal in 1662. This followed their firm commitment to each other in 1660.43 The dowry that came with this wedding saw England secure Tangiers (in North Africa), the Seven Islands of Bombay (off the coast of India), trading privileges in Brazil and the East Indies, and 2 million crusados for the king’s own purse. The Spanish king, Philip IV, who, until recently, had supported Charles II in his attempt to regain the throne of England while fighting the French was outraged. Not only had Charles done little to control the English Corsairs (which continued to harass Spanish possessions in the New World and attack every treasure fleet they could find), he had now linked up with the very country (Portugal) the Spanish king hoped to consume.44 Charles simply could not say no to the irresistible Portuguese offer. They had offered this incredible dowry to marry a Portuguese princess and become wedded in a military alliance at the same time. They made this deal because Portugal was at direct risk of being consumed by Spain. This threat was made obvious when Spain invaded Portugal with an army 35,000 men, but was defeated by the Portuguese who, with the assistance of 3,000 English, held the line. Following campaigns in 1662, matters culminated towards the middle of 1663, when the Spanish were defeated first on 8 June (with 17,000 Portuguese getting the better of 18,500 Spaniards) and then again on 17 June (when 23,000 Spaniards were defeated by 20,000 Portuguese, with the invaders suffering 4,000 killed or wounded and 6,000 made prisoner). The decisive battle occurred in June 1665, when an Anglo-Portuguese army defeated the Spanish force in a bitter eight-hour battle. When the Spanish king, Philip IV, died of natural causes a few months later, the momentum of this war ceased. However, it would continue to rumble on in the background, as Charles II subsequently fell into conflict first with the Dutch and then with the French.45

7.

A Second War with the Dutch, and then the French

In addition to supporting the Portuguese, in the same period of the middle years of the 1660s, Charles II also engaged in another war against the Dutch. Initially, it was hoped that the Dutch and the English could learn to live in peace. As a step towards this, the 1662 Treaty of Friendship pledged good faith and peaceful dispute resolution processes, for niggling matters such as their colonists which continued to bump violently into each other in America (in the upper Hudson, Long Island and in the Dutch part of Delaware).46 (a) The Reasons for War Despite such initiatives, the peace of 1654 and its 1662 supplement could not hold for four

reasons. First, the strongly republican de facto leader of the United Provinces, Johan de Witt did not take a kind view of the restored monarch Charles II. Similarly, the English king took an equally dim view of the Dutch republic. Second, the question of naval protocols on the ocean, agreed in 1654, were not being followed. This occurred after the English failed to return the salute to the Dutch, at which point, the Dutch stopped offering the first one. Third, both Charles II and his brother James wanted to ensure strict compliance with the Navigation Act (which was updated in 1660) and to expand the mercantile benefits of their colonies by branching out into new regional fishing grounds. Simply, Charles II argued that no solid economic advances could be achieved in England, ‘until the greatest of [English] interests, namely commerce, had been guaranteed’.47 Finally, unlike with the last conflict, this time the Dutch were feeling much stronger, and were in no mood to compromise. This time, they were much more prepared both in terms of their own domestic military and, more importantly, diplomatically they had struck a beneficial alliance with King Louis XIV in 1662. Two years later, in 1664, the Dutch struck another agreement, this time with Spain.48 (b) The Killing Begins Conflict between the Dutch and the English began before an actual declaration of war was issued on the other side of the Atlantic. This occurred when English frigates sailed into New Amsterdam (on the tip of Manhattan island, as part of New Netherlands – later New York) in late August 1664, demanding (and obtaining) its surrender. This was achieved without a shot being fired as the Dutch garrison opted for a guaranteed safe passage home to Europe, rather than fight the four English ships and the 300 troops aboard them. However, the other posts at Fort Orange on the Hudson river and Fort Amstel on Delaware Bay had to be subdued using gunpowder.49 The conflict then spread to Europe, with the Anglo-Dutch War starting officially in March 1665. The first large-scale battle at Lowestoft, in mid-June 1665, had more than 200 ships and 10,000 canons packed into a very small area of sea (the Dutch lost eight ships and had nine captured out of 103, while the British lost only one out of 109). In early June 1666, the Four Days’ Battle had 84 Dutch ships face off against 79 English, with the latter losing 10 vessels and some 5,000 men. In the battle at North Foreland at the end of July 1666, some 88 English warships got the better of the enemy force of 89, sinking 20 of them, killing 4,000 and taking another 3,000 prisoner.50 (c) The War Expands In 1666, France entered the war on behalf of the Dutch. Despite their 1662 alliance, the French were not triggered into the conflict until the English expanded the war onto the Continent. The English did this by persuading the bishop of Munster (who was aggrieved because the Dutch refused to recognise some of his local lordships) and 30,000 of his soldiers

to join their cause, for the price of a generous subsidy. This expansion of the war forced Louis to engage, sending troops to aid the Dutch who quickly ejected the Munster army from Dutch territory and forced the Bishop to sue for peace (in April 1666).51 The Dutch then expanded the alliance against England, creating a quadruple alliance with Denmark, Brandenburg and Brunswick, to ensure there were no repeat attempts by the English on the Continent.52 As all of this was happening, the French started to target the English colonies. Initially, Louis XIV had hoped that all the respective colonies could remain neutral in the Americas. However, the English king, Charles II, had the opposite view. He hoped to acquire the French and Dutch colonies in the New World and instructed his governors of Jamaica and Barbados to attack the French in the West Indies, and the governors in Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Nova Scotia, to try to subjugate French Canada. Despite his intentions, the pendulum swung in the opposite direction. It was the French who captured the English part of St Christopher and the English islands of Antigua and Monserrat, and took territories which the English had recently seized from the Dutch. Meanwhile, in North America, although the English occupied parts of the ill-defined area known as Acadia, the French began sending expeditions against the Mohawks (the English native allies) and building ports and forts within the bounds of New York, which the English believed was theirs. The French were more successful in this area than the English as they had begun to recognise the clear value of North American Indians as allies. As in most of the European conflicts post-1650 that had begun to expand into the colonial possessions of the Europeans in North America, the indigenous tribes had not been involved. As it was, the sovereign overlords of each colony tended to have different approaches to their shared space with the various communities, with the English (who were close to the Iroquois) being more severe and less culturally tolerant than the French (who were close to the Hurons), and the others acting as overlords, somewhere in between. The French then went one step further, recognising that to neutralise any relationships in this area that could be detrimental to them, it was best to make peace with the indigenous communities (such as the Iroquois) who could otherwise be antagonistic towards them by forming alliances with the English.53 (d) The Treaty of Breda By this point, the war was clearly being stacked against the English. The land offensive in Europe (with Munster) had failed and the conflict in the colonies was going badly. In addition, Charles II had had to deal with massive difficulties at home, unrelated to the war (the great plague of 1665, followed by the Great Fire of London in 1666). Then, if he needed any more reason to reach for peace, the Dutch achieved their stunning raid on the Royal Navy dockyards at Medway in June 1667. This graphically showed how powerless the British were to defend their own coastline, as the Dutch sunk or took 13 English vessels at no cost to themselves. Despite this stunning action at Medway, the Dutch decided that peace could be a good idea as the English and the French began to reconcile. In accordance with the Franco-Anglo

reconciliation, Louis had started to position his troops in Flanders. The Dutch believed that peace was necessary, for fear that the French king could suddenly turn from fighting with, to fighting against, them. This was, in fact, more of a bluff, as Louis had much greater ambitions in terms of fighting Spain, not the United Provinces, but before he could embark on that project, he had to get the United Provinces and England to make peace.54 The opposing sides found peace at Breda in late July 1667. At this point the English and Dutch signatures on their Treaty of Breda replaced, ‘the great shedding of Christian blood with very great loss to either side … [with] … a true, firm and inviolable peace’.55 In terms of substance, the Dutch obtained some concessions in trade with some goods from the European continent to Britain, thus partly deflating some of the restrictions of the Navigation Act. In exchange, the Dutch agreed to continue to respect the 1654 protocol to give the first salute to the English when on the high seas. In terms of territory, a swap occurred with the English returning the rich sugar-producing Suriname (which they had seized during the conflict) in return for the Dutch colony in North America (New Netherlands), which was renamed as New York (after James II, the brother of Charles II, who was at that point, the Duke of York).56 The French and the English made a supplementary peace on 21 July 1667. With this, France agreed to restore to Britain the English part of St Christopher and other islands, while England was to ‘restore … the country … called Acadia, situated in North America’57 to France. The only problem was exactly what Acadia consisted of (and especially whether Nova Scotia was part thereof), was uncertain. The Anglo-Spanish peace first received tentative signatures in 1667,58 although this proved difficult as English privateers continued to plunder the Spanish colonies. This irritant was not sufficient for Spain to renew the war against England (as they needed to focus on their war with France), and through the judicious use of diplomacy, the English and Spanish sovereigns finally achieved a full agreement in 1670 at Madrid. This secured a ‘universal peace, truce and sincere amity’ between the two of them. With this, England was granted, ‘sovereignty, dominion, possession and propriety over all lands, regions, islands, colonies and places, being situated in the West Indies or in any part of America, which the King of Great Britain and his subjects, do presently hold’.59 With this paragraph, England acquired ownership of both Jamaica and the Cayman Islands. In exchange the English promised to only trade with its own colonies, and suppress piracy (or at least, ‘revoke all commissions and letters containing powers either of reprisal or marque, or of making prizes in the West Indies’60) which had reached terrible proportions in some Spanish colonial regions.61

8.

Alliance with France, Further War against the Dutch, and Another Peace

Louis XIV and Charles II reconciled in 1670 in both secret and public treaties. While the first (the Treaty of Dover, of May 1670) was a restoration of Catholicism in England, the second, the Treaty of Whitehall (of December 1670) was a war of premeditated aggression against the Dutch Republic.62 On the Whitehall arrangement, the point to note is that despite all Louis’s

careful planning, his plan of conquest could not be achieved. The Dutch, especially under their new leader William of Orange (the future William III of England) fought with military tenacity and diplomatic skill, breaking the French-centred alliance against them. A key part of this breaking involved making peace, again, with England. The English were persuaded to aim for peace following the battle at Texel on 21 August 1673, when the English fought their last naval engagement of the war against the Dutch. The failure of the numerically superior English-Franco fleet (92 warships and 30 fire-ships, as opposed to 75 warships and 30 fire-ships for the Dutch) was a disaster for the English. The Dutch inflicted 2,000 casualties for only half the price of their own, while also frustrating all Franco-Anglo hopes for a seaborne invasion of Holland. In addition, outside European waters, the Dutch fought back, raiding English colonies in the West Indies, Virginia and Newfoundland. They even landed 600 marines to recapture New York from its 100 defenders. With these actions, combined with a belief that the French were not carrying their weight, the English Parliament pushed Charles II into withdrawing from the war, by denying more money for it. Fundamentally, the common English belief was that they had confused their real friends with their real enemies.63 The peace between the United Provinces and England, the so-called Second Peace of Westminster, was concluded in mid-February 1674. This ‘extinguished that fatal war … [to which] … the sighs of almost the whole Christian world have pleaded’64 to end. The core of this treaty involved the restoration of whatever territories or places that they had taken from the other, ‘within Europe or elsewhere’.65 This treaty largely confirmed the protocols of the first Peace of Westminster (in terms of saluting at sea, to the favour of the English) and the geographical arrangements of the 1667 Treaty of Breda, with New York and Suriname remaining with the owners agreed then (even though New York/New Amsterdam had swapped back to the Dutch side of the ledger in 1673). What was different from the two previous peace treaties was the ‘indemnity’ of 2 million guilders, paid by the Dutch. Although perhaps unnecessary, the United Provinces was willing to part with this gold as it gave them the ability to concentrate on France, the greater enemy. Finally, there was the formation of a joint commission to peacefully examine, ‘a just and equitable regulation of trade, especially in the East Indies … [as this was a matter upon which] … the wealth but also the peace of both nations in the highest degree depends’.66 The work of this commission was concluded and formalised in the Marine Treaty the following year.67 The peace with the United Provinces deepened when (Protestant) Mary II, the niece of Charles II and daughter of the next king, James II, married the (Protestant) Stadtholder William III of the United Provinces at the end of 1677. This dynastic connection, which both Charles and James approved of in the national interest, with the leader of the United Provinces who was leading the war against France was monumental. Soon after, English forces were firing their weapons towards French forces, not those of the United Provinces.68

9.

War and Peace with English and the Indigenous Communities in the Colonies

The question of the relationship between the English colonists and the Native Americans became more complicated in the 1670s (especially following the French relationships with similar groups in the 1660s). This meant that while initial relations were friendly with many of the tribes they buttressed, they often soured with changes of leadership and the increasing power of the colonists, who would then feel confident in making demands of some tribes (such as handing over weapons, and submitting to European justice for crimes committed against colonists). Such ideals were then, sometimes, placed into local agreements, such as that Taunton, in Plymouth Colony (present-day Massachusetts). In this, the local chief Metacom (‘King Philip’ to the English) promised economic and military loyalty. He also promised to disarm, and made apologies for past actions against colonists, as part of his renewed pledge to be ‘faithful and friendly’.69 In exchange, the English promised more integrity, honour and fairness in their dealings with his people. However, peace was short-lived; in the mid-1670s, unscrupulous land dealings on the part of the colonists occurred and were not prosecuted by the English. Rather, Metacom was pulled before colonial courts for some of his actions, while some of his people were executed for crimes they did not commit. With such a context, violence broke out as six of the colonies then began a military campaign against Metacom; in return, he declared war on them.70 The backlash to this campaign was a coalition of tribes pushing back into the colonial frontier in Massachusetts Bay, Plymouth and Rhode Island, with 52 of the 90 settlements in New England attacked, and 17 fully destroyed. The economy based upon the fur trade and coastal fishing was also devastated. Despite these blows, the Indian groups could not eject the colonists from the region, as had occurred with the Pueblo Native Americans against the Spanish settlers in New Mexico in 1680 (before the Spanish reconquest in 1694). Rather, in New England, the 40,000-strong colonists, linked together for the first time (as England could not provide help) and pushed back. In total, more than 1,000 colonists and 3,000 Native Americans may have died. Hundreds more were captured and sold as slaves, as both sides suffered atrocities and their settlements, towns and villages, were targeted. The result was that some tribes appear to have fragmented and many left the area.71 Peace was brought to the area with the first Treaty of Casco in 1678, of which there are only reports and no actual copy. On the one hand, this appears to have been based upon a return of prisoners and Native American acceptance of English property rights in the disputed areas. On the other hand, the agreement recognised the local tribes that had nominal sovereignty in their areas and the colonial authorities promised to put more controls around the fur trade and fairness in their dealings with them.72

10.

The Causes of the Revolution in England

There were two tracks leading towards the Glorious Revolution in England. The first was about religion. The second track was about constitutional governance and the powers of the king, as opposed to the power of Parliament and the rights of the English citizens. Both

tracks culminated in the idea of a king who was, as the theological works of the Englishman Robert Filmer73 argued, beholden only to God, and certainly not to any conglomeration of commoners assembled in some form of Parliament. This chapter is primarily concerned with the second track towards the Glorious Revolution, although there is a strong overlap with the first track about religion. For example, in the 1670s, the monarchs of France and England joined together to fight the United Provinces, and although Charles was not (in public) Catholic, many began to question the wisdom of this deepening alliance with France. This questioning increased when Charles II attempted to stifle dissent against his drive for religious tolerance. He did this not only by trying to prohibit the popular coffee houses where he feared dissent was also brewing, but more dramatically, secretly locking up some of those who began to question his goals over religious policy in England. In 1679, Parliament responded to these actions by passing the cornerstone of modern liberty when it comes to the power of the state by ensuring, through transparent judicial processes, that citizens do not arbitrarily disappear beneath the power of decision makers. That law, the Habeas Corpus Act, ‘for the speedy relief of all persons imprisoned …’74 made it possible to challenge the detention of detained people, by obtaining a judicial examination of why there were incarcerated.75 Such laws did not endear Charles II to the English Parliament, especially when it continued to argue that his brother, James II, should be excluded from the throne because of his Catholicism. The cumulative result of such arguments and laws was that the King of England concluded that Parliament was more trouble than it was worth. Accordingly, although the Triennial Parliaments Act of 1664 had stipulated that a Parliament must be called at least once every three years, the king took advantage of the mistake in the law (the omission to spell out how this calling was to be done) and simply failed to call another Parliament after 1681. The result was that he implemented personal rule, without parliamentary oversight, for the last four years of his life. This unfettered power allowed him to act quickly in the arrest and execution of several prominent Whig leaders (who wanted to curtail royal power), who were implicated in the plot to murder both himself and his brother James in 1683.76 When Charles II died in early February 1685, he was succeeded by his brother, James II. James came to the throne with the support of a new Parliament which had been convened to help facilitate this transition. Initially, this assembly was loyal to James, and receptive to his goals, which did not seem to indicate any radical changes of direction. Accordingly, a few months into his tenure, the alliance with the United Provinces was renewed.77 Where matters became much more complicated was over his ideas of religious tolerance. The overlap with the question of religion at this point became very important, as constitutional and religious questions mingled. For example, James’s decision not to disband the military forces that had been gathered to defeat the Duke of Monmouth and replace the militia with a standing army was difficult enough, but it became intolerable when he started to staff this force by bypassing the Test Acts in terms of the placement of Catholics at the highest level in the military and the judiciary.

Similarly, as James pursued his goal of creating a regime of greater tolerance for Catholics, he utilised powers of the state that grated against English conceptions of liberty and a dislike for unnecessary secret surveillance and censorship. However, this is exactly what James II did, with the mail (which had become a royal monopoly in 1683) being intercepted and read with great frequency. In addition, all printing presses were strictly controlled and many of those who attempted to challenge James in print found themselves convicted of libel. All political newsletters became illegal (1686) and even coffeehouses (where people came to gather and talk) were subject to increased surveillance, to ensure that no newsletters, or the like, were passing through them. The few who risked putting words into print, such as telling Protestants not to fight for a Catholic king, found themselves detained and whipped.78

11.

The Invasion of England

(a) William and Mary The people who stepped into, and stopped, this situation – and laid the foundations for the modern country of Britain as it is today – were William and Mary. Mary, the daughter of James II from his first marriage, was married to William of Orange of the United Provinces. Both Mary and William III were Protestant, and grandchildren of Charles I of England. William III had been Stadtholder of the United Provinces since 1672. William III had held this office, which had been vacant since 1650, when the strongly Republican United Provinces overcame their concerns and gave him full powers for life. The Dutch populace had lost faith in the pragmatic and commercially minded, Johan de Witt. They believed he was unable to wield the necessary responses (to override local opposition and find a centralised and unified Dutch response), to survive the war with England and France. As the Stadtholder, until his death in 1702, William of Orange was a ruler with near absolute powers.79 (b) The Invitation The Stadtholder of the United Provinces received an invitation from England on 30 June 1688. This was written by seven nobles (including three earls, one viscount and one bishop). It was sent on the day that the seven bishops were acquitted of sedition. This invitation requested help from William of Orange and his wife Mary, as, in addition to the questions about religion, the: [P]resent conduct of the government, in relation to their … liberties and properties (all which have been greatly invaded), and they are in such expectation of their prospects being daily worse … [to which the letter writers requested William and Mary to intervene to] … secure them from being destroyed.80

William interpreted this invitation as being crafted by people who not only represented others, but were willing to stand up and be counted. He was also drawn to the idea of rescuing the English nation and its institutions (and its religious faith). William’s thinking in this area was most apparent with his justification for the invasion of England and Scotland with his Declaration of the Hague from 10 October 1688. With this, although it was noted that religious elements were at the core of the complaints against James II, it was added that, inter alia, the ‘peace and happiness’ of the kingdom was at risk because the ‘Laws, Liberties, and Customs, established by the lawful authority in it, are openly transgressed and annulled …’81 William then went on to condemn his practice of, amongst other concerns, purging the judiciary and manipulating Parliament. He therefore declared he was going to England with ‘force … to have, a free and lawful Parliament assembled as soon as is possible’.82 (c) The International Politics of the Invasion The French King, Louis XIV, was, between 1684 and 1688, advancing headlong into a multipronged war with his western neighbours. During most of this time, Louis gambled that England would, at a minimum, stay neutral in any future European conflict that he was involved in. Louis was confident in this assessment because James II was now the king of England, and James was family (a cousin), a Catholic, and shared his political (absolutist) views of the world. This meant Louis expected cooperation, not conflict, with England. The evidence of this being their 1686 Treaty of Neutrality in America. This was important as their respective settlers had continued to transgress against each other. To ensure that these actions did not erupt into large-scale violence, the kings of France and England promised each other, ‘peace, union, concord and good correspondence … in both North America and South America, and throughout those islands …’.83 Promises of no aggression, no use of Native American allies as proxies, and peaceful commissions to resolve disputes, was their path forward. All the hopes that Louis had of friendship with England fell apart when William of Orange invaded. The international considerations that swirled around William’s decision to invade England are threefold. First, the United Provinces, who were at the forefront of the effort, approved of the mission supporting their Stadtholder to respond to the invitation and invade England. They did this because they reasoned that sooner or later, although Louis was currently scrapping with his other neighbours to his west (over his reunions and areas that were entering into succession difficulties) he would eventually turn on them and their chances for survival would be much greater if a close ally of France (James II) was not on the English throne. They also reasoned that as the main French army was in the Rhineland, there was a rare window of opportunity to collect a force and actually get to the shores of England. Second, the very important Catholic monarch in Europe, Emperor Leopold I, did not intervene or object. He consented as long as the Catholics in England, Scotland and Ireland were not mistreated, and that William would join the alliance that was growing against Louis XIV.

Third, even Louis, despite being well aware of the intended invasion did not deploy the French navy to stop it. He reasoned that that if William did succeed in landing, it could result in either another civil war in Britain (which would be good for him) and/or weaken the United Provinces (as its troops were pulled away from French armies) and/or drive James II into a very close military alliance with him. Then, to add fuel to the fire, Louis made it clear that if William did land in England, he would consider this, the attempted usurpation of the legitimate James II, as a justification for war.84 (d) Setting Foot on the Shores of England William of Orange landed on the shores of England on 5 November 1688, with 15,000 or so soldiers (consisting of a polyglot of Swedes, Swiss, Germans, French Huguenots, Dutch and English) in just over 460 ships. William then walked onto the beach beneath the banner, stating that he was preparing to fight, ‘for the Protestant Religion and Liberty’.85 These were the justifications for the invasion. As it was, there was very little fighting to be done in England. William was greeted with popular support for his cause on the one hand, and anti-Catholic anger on the other. As the public began to increasingly declare for William and were prepared to start disrespecting King James II, his 40,000 soldiers and commanders (and even family, including his daughter, Anne) started to desert him. The result was that only a few small skirmishes were recorded. The biggest clash was at Wincanton, when a few hundred dragoons from each side clashed. The Royalist forces suffered most, with about 60 dead. Greater numbers were probably killed with the rising and angry crowds, who sought out any Catholics amongst them and distributed mob violence to them and their property.86 An attempted parley between the invading William and the defending James II occurred in early December. William’s commissioners offered the terms of halting his advance if James paid all his costs, promised he would not bring the French into the fight, and that both of them would attend the next session of Parliament. However, James, overconfident, was in no mood to bargain. His confidence quickly evaporated when the vast majority of his remaining forces dissolved. Then, fearing the same fate as befell his father Charles I, James fled to France just before Christmas 1688. Some 30,000 or so English citizens who were loyal to James followed him to France soon after. (e) The Denunciation of James II As soon as James II left English soil, Parliament was assembled and William accepted the responsibilities of government. This responsibility was taken up after Parliament asserted that James II had (directly or indirectly) abdicated his throne by fleeing. It was also argued that the conduct of James II had nullified the contract between the people and sovereign, and therefore justified rebellion and the replacement of the law-breaking king.87

William and Mary were then offered the throne as joint rulers, king and queen, in midFebruary 1689. One week later, on 20 February, all the members of Parliament took an oath to be, ‘faithful and bear true allegiance to … William … and Mary’.88 In this same process of replacing James II with William III, the Declaration of Right, a document detailing all of the wrongs committed by James II, was also recorded. Thus: King James the Second, having endeavoured to subvert the Constitution of the Kingdom, by breaking the Original Contract between King and people, and by the advice of the Jesuits and other wicked persons having violated the fundamental laws and withdrawn himself out of the kingdom, hath abdicated the government, and that the throne is thereby vacant.89

The Scottish Parliament, on 11 April, detailed a similar approach and set down how James II (known as James VII in Scotland) lost the Crown because of his conduct as king. Specifically: King James the Seventh, being a professed Papist, did assume the Regal power, and acted as king, without ever taking the oath required by law, and hath by the advice of evil and wicked counsellors, invaded the fundamental constitution of the kingdom, and altered it from a legal limited monarchy, to an arbitrary and despotic power … whereby he hath forefaulted the right to the crown, and the throne is become vacant.90

12.

The Glorious Revolution

The new deal was solidified in a two-step process with the coronation of William and Mary in April and then the Bill of Rights, at the end of 1689. The new Coronation Oath had the joint monarchs, ‘solemnly promise to … govern the people of England and the dominions … according to the statutes in parliament agreed on, and on the laws and customs of the same’.91 This was a monumental change to the past, where monarchs had been sworn in to uphold the rules made their ancestors. This oath had the monarchs promise to uphold the law made by Parliament. The Bill of Rights, which was, in essence, the Magna Carta of the seventeenth century, went further. This act of Parliament incorporated the Declaration of Right, covering the misdeeds of James II that were designed to, inter alia, ‘endeavour to subvert and extirpate … the laws and liberties of this kingdom’.92 The Bill of Rights then set down 13 articles defining the limitations of the Crown and confirming the rights of Parliament (as the ultimate authority) and the rights of individual citizens. In both instances, these were seen as trumping the rights of the monarch. In terms of Parliament, monarchs could no longer suspend laws, levy taxes, or maintain a standing army during peacetime without permission.93 In terms of citizens, in addition to the now existing rights of habeas corpus, the rights of the individual against the authority of the government included a guarantee for citizens to petition the monarch; and the right of (Protestant) citizens to keep arms for their defence (subject to conditions set by law). Additional protections included a prohibition of excessive bail, fines of cruel and unusual punishments. Fines or penalties before convictions were also prohibited.

13.

John Locke

If there was one intellectual giant behind all these massive developments in England, it was John Locke. In 1683, this scholar, with family links to the Parliamentary (as opposed to monarchy) side of political debate, had ended up fleeing into voluntary exile in the United Provinces over fears that King Charles II wanted to hurt him. Locke only returned to England after the Glorious Revolution. Locke saw this event and the obtaining of power of William III as being, ‘in the consent of the people’ as saving the country from ‘the brink of slavery and ruin’.94 The importance of consent was critical to the thinking of Locke, as this was the tool that directly challenged the legitimacy of absolutist governance. Lack of consent from the people in both the government and the formulated laws, Locke argued, was a short road to tyranny. Thus, ‘the liberty of man, in society, is to be under no other legislative power, but that established by consent, in the commonwealth’. Without this consent, rebellion was justified, as the absolute power over the lives, liberties, and estates of the people was a ‘breach of trust’. As Locke explained, the legislative was always ‘subordinate’ to the people, holding only a ‘fiduciary duty to act for certain ends’ from them. Accordingly: [W]hen they find the Legislative acted contrary to the trust reposed in them … the trust must be forfeited and the power devolve into the hands of those who gave it, who may place it anew where they think best for their safety and security.95

Locke then described a range of scenarios in which people would have a right to revolt in order to take back the power they had given the government. For example, people could legitimately rebel if elected representatives of the people were prevented from assembly; foreign powers were bestowed with authority over the people; the election system or procedures were changed without public consent; the rule of law was not upheld; or the government sought to deprive people of their rights.96

14.

Constitutional Monarchy Entrenched

The constitutional monarchy of England, and soon to be Britain, occurred during the time of William III and the end of the eighteenth century. This included additional laws in 1694 (the Meeting of Parliament Act and the amended Triennial Parliament Acts which had reduced the royal power of summoning Parliament, thus fixing the loophole that allowed Charles II to cancel Parliament) and made the dissolving of Parliament at the will of the monarch impossible. The cycle of general elections every three years was made mandatory and the obligation for parliament to meet at least annually was set down.97 Early in the following century, although the next monarch, Queen Anne, personally believed that the source of her authority was God, the reality, in Britain, was that it was Parliament, not some omnipotent being, which allowed her (and all of her successors) to sit on the throne. In practice, this meant that although the coronation oaths were still important, they were now secondary to the laws passed by Parliament, setting out what a monarch

could, and could not, do. A clear manifestation of this change in the type of contract that allowed a monarch to sit on the throne of England, going from a personal oath to God to laws set down by Parliament was the 1701 Act of Settlement: An Act for the further Limitation of the Crown and better securing the Rights and Liberties of the Subject. Here, aside the question of Protestant succession,98 the primacy of Parliament over the monarch was made clear in a number of areas. Specifically: [T]his nation be not obliged to engage in any war for the defence of any dominions or territories which do not belong to the Crown of England, without the consent of Parliament.99

In addition, due to concern at the amount of time William III spent out of the country, restrictions were placed on the monarch in terms of leaving the country, ‘without the consent of Parliament’.100 It was also settled that no person could enter the Privy Council or Houses of Parliament (or high placed civil or military appointments), unless they had been born in the British Isles; and no-one could serve in Parliament if they received a benefit from the monarch (such as land, titles or money). Judges could only be removed by both Houses of Parliament; and the monarch could not trump Parliamentary impeachments (by Royal pardons). On the death of Queen Anne, as the Crown passed to distant Protestant relatives on the Continent, the law, in an attempt to prevent further unnecessary European entanglements, was amended to add that the nation was not to be obliged to fight for Hanoverian interests – even if that was where the monarch of Britain originated.101 To the envy of many, this system in England now appeared as one of ordered liberty. It was a place where judges, not officials, had power and they administered that power through clear law which was made by parliament – not the monarch. These laws were applicable to all people within the British realm, irrespective of status. In constitutional terms, political power was divided among the monarch, the aristocracy (in the House of Lords) and the landed gentry (in the House of Commons). This balance became a British art in itself, to which the great Scottish philosopher David Hume would warn that if absolute monarchy ever returned to Britain, it would be the death of the constitution, and a direct route to (another) civil war.102

15.

Liberty

Next to the development of a constitutional monarchy, the Glorious Revolution also began to entrench some of the foundations of modern liberty, while also helping pave the way towards tentative steps on social welfare. In terms of modern liberty, in addition to what was guaranteed under the Bill of Rights, the idea of freedom of speech began to mature. This meant that, within the walls of Parliament, freedom of speech ought not to be impeached or questioned. Supplementing this process, the Licencing Act (which had lapsed in 1679) was not renewed. This meant that although the freedom of the press was not mentioned in the Bill of Rights, the government

(under the guidance of John Locke) moved away from its previously tight controls on censorship, thus allowing speech involving libel, blasphemy and sedition, to become the chief forms of censorship. The sedition aspect was particularly important, as this meant that any attempts to assert the claims of the deposed James II (or question the rights of the Protestant monarchs who followed James) became high crimes, to which execution could (and did in some instances) follow for printers who disobeyed the rules.103 In this environment both booksellers and newspapers began to proliferate. Of the former, the market was massive and there was a strong trade in all forms of literature, even if it was potentially seditious. Of the latter, 36 broadsheets were in production by the 1720s. In these papers, in which great writers like Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift cut their craft, there was not only great demand, but also political unease. The result was the Stamp Act of 1712, which imposed a halfpenny duty on all small, and a full penny on all large, papers. This tax made some of the cheaper papers too expensive to continue production. However, the impact was not enough to stop what David Hume recognised as one of the cornerstones of British liberty, so that ‘arbitrary power’ could be brought into the light, and: [T]he spirit of the people could be roused … the liberty of the press, by which all the learning, wit and genius of the nation may be employed on the side of freedom.104

Although the authorities had little success in controlling the press, they did, in 1737 with the Licencing Act, achieve strong controls over this very popular medium (in which satire could bite hard) in terms of censorship of the theatre. This law required that all new plays should be approved by a designated minister before they could be performed.105 In terms of democracy, the 1689 Bill of Rights explained that the Parliaments needed to be frequent, and ‘free’. At the time, this right to vote only applied to about 5 per cent of the population, which were wealthy property-owning males who were enfranchised. Although this is viewed poorly from the twenty-first century, at that time, ideals of a universal enfranchisement were remote. Even John Locke did not talk specifically about democracy. His main concern was understanding the proper relationship of individuals to each other and to their government. He thought in terms of social contracts, the protection of fundamental items (like private property) and tolerance. An extended franchise was not directly on his radar, although it was not absent either, as he examined ideals of executives who were more or less responsible to the people, or, at least, a majority of them.106 In practice, this meant that in the House of Commons, although maintaining a façade of popular government was, in fact, a bulwark of inherited privilege based upon the possession of a substantial number of assets. For example, by a law of 1711, every county member of the House of Commons was required to possess an income of at least £600 a year from landed property, and every borough member, an income of £300 per year. This meant that even the ‘commoners’ in Parliament were, in fact, wealthy. The genteel British custom of ensuring that public office holders did not receive remuneration added a large hurdle to ensure that the lower classes were excluded from politics. The result was that the British landowning aristocracy held a monopoly on power both within, and in terms of access, to Parliament. This overlapped with their filling most of the high positions of social responsibility in the

country.107 The final area to note was the further development of social welfare. In the western part of Europe, the responses to the growing problem of poverty were reflective of the social change that was occurring at the same period. That is, historically, in the system of medieval thought, poverty relief was regarded as the duty and service of the Church, as a necessary work of Christian charity. However, during the seventeenth century, the link between Church and state began to weaken (especially in Protestant countries). State responsibility for functions that were previously the obligation of the Church began to evolve at the same time as centralisation of authority started to overshadow local responses to issues. This meant that institutions such as hospitals and poorhouses – as run by the state, and not just religious orders – began to appear throughout Europe. The country at the forefront of state (as opposed to religious) responsibilities was England. The law, for the period of this study, started to slowly take a greater responsibility in helping deal with the poor, developing an emphasis beyond the responsibility of the Church in the local parish. New laws were introduced in 1662 which provided for the forcible removal to different parishes those who had wandered from their home parish, and become ‘rogues and vagabonds’.108 Further laws from 1697 sought to ensure that no English pauper was legally entitled to travel without a pass from their native parish, stating their destination, on pain of being whipped as a vagrant.109 In the century to come, the Workhouse Act of 1723 empowered individual parishes to establish workhouses, which enforced a set amount of work to those who were fed and sheltered. These were designed to be a last resort and their conditions were a deterrent to the applicants. Those who refused to go into the workhouse were refused all relief. Although over 600 workhouses were built, the numbers were inadequate for the demand. Further revision of this law in 1782, and moving towards a national (as opposed to parish) scale hoped that, collectively, the government and society could defeat the growing problem of poverty. Specifically, the government doubled down its focus on only helping the deserving poor (the elderly, young, female, sick and orphaned) – but not underserving poor (the ablebodied, male, fit, vagrant or pauper). Despite this harshness, by the end of the eighteenth century in Britain, most urban poor were ‘indoor’ rather than ‘outdoor’.110

16.

Conclusion

The significance of the Glorious Revolution and the violence that went with it – and the vision it became to many living under oppressive regimes – is that it became the halfway point between either full republics or absolute monarchies, in which rulers were without any meaningful forms of social controls. This stepping-stone for the English, soon to become British, was reached after the English stood first, on the stone of a full republic, and then, on some slippery stones, towards a return to absolute monarchy. There were two points of note before the Glorious Revolution. The first point, when England was a Republic under the guidance of Oliver Cromwell,

saw peace in the realm but did not see peace with its neighbours. Rather, even with those most closely aligned, such as the United Provinces, conflict would break out over questions of trade, status and protocol. Conversely, England managed to make alliances with Catholic France, which should have been a sworn enemy, in exchange for strong material benefits in the terms of territory. The second point, when Charles II was restored and England became a quasiconstitutional government, saw the conflicts continued. Their new king led them into conflicts against Spain, the United Provinces, and briefly, France. These wars were caused by the financial needs of the monarch and a deep dislike of the Dutch Republic with its political make-up and its economic success. In this bracket, considerations of political structure (monarchy) and religion, began to push the English king towards the French, although this was a tidal relationship. Of note in this period, the colonies of the adversaries started to become fair game in the wars that originated thousands of miles from them, and prized rewards for victories in battle. Within these colonies, especially in North America, relationships with the local Native American tribes began to be hammered out. These deals reflected positions of power on the ground, more than abstract principles, although it was clear that the indigenous communities were not right-less. The big difference between the first and the second points is that when the monarchy was back in power, within 25 years, England was again at war with itself. Peace did not settle within the realm. The undoing and justification of violence by the English people against Charles II, and then his brother James II, was the result of a combination of religion and political power. To these joint concerns English dissidents invited William III to intervene in England, as they feared that all their important liberties were at risk. In the relatively small clash and fleeing by James II that followed, two new monarchs (William and Mary) were placed into power. This placement, and the laws that followed it, made up the core of the Glorious Revolution. The essence of the Glorious Revolution and its subsequent cementing into place, greatly assisted by the pen of scholars like John Locke, was the creation of a new form of social contract via laws that established a new constitutional relationship, based upon the consent of the governed. The essence of this relationship was twofold. First, the monarch was placed, tethered, and regulated, by the people, as represented by Parliament (albeit, one which only reflected the views of a small fraction of the British populace). Second, the citizens, in forms of rights such as habeas corpus, followed by the Bill of Rights, were given very robust protections against the power of the state. In the decades that followed, these rights were supplemented by a growth in a free media, and speech became increasingly liberal as attempts by the authorities to curtail them both failed.111 This model, where the consent of the people became the crux of the matter, where rights became attached to citizens, and monarchs (if required at all) became tightly regulated, was the river that turned into the oceans of the American and French revolutions.

1 Dijck, M (2017). ‘Democracy and Civil Society in the Early Modern Period’. Social Science History. 41(1): 59–81;

Rebel, H (2001). ‘“What do the Peasants Want Now?” Realists and Fundamentalists in Swiss and South German Rural Politics, 1650–1750’. Central European History. 34(3): 313–56; Nussbaum, F (1953). The Triumph of Science and Reason, 1660–1685. (Harper, NYC). 140–42; Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 384–85. 2 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 223. 3 This quote is taken from Carsten, F (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 109. See also, Kalf, W (2014). ‘The Tractatus Theologico-Politicus and the Received View of Spinoza on Democracy’. Res Publica 20(3): 263–79; Havercroft, J (2010). ‘Spinoza and the Problem of Global Democracy’. Constellations. 17(1): 120–36; Battisi, G (1977). ‘Democracy in Spinoza’s Unfinished Tractatus Politicus’. Journal of the History of Ideas. 38(4): 623–34. 4 An Act for Abolishing the House of Peers, 1649. For the numbers, see Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles. (Penguin, London). 349, 350. 5 The 1649 Act Declaring England to be a Commonwealth. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 400. 6 Hobbes. Leviathan. (Ed, Tuck R; Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1997). 90. 7 The quote is from Hobbes, On the Citizen. (Ed, Tuck, R; Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1998). 123. See also pp 150–51; Kapust, D (2011). ‘The Problem of Flattery and Hobbes Institutional Defence of Monarchy’. The Journal of Politics. 73(3): 680–91; Thivet, D (2008). ‘Thomas Hobbes: a Philosopher of War or Peace?’ British Journal for the History of Philosophy, 16(4): 701–21; Apperley, A (1999). ‘Hobbes on Democracy’. Politics 19(3): 165–71. 8 The Sydney Papers, ‘The Dissolution of the Rump, 1653’. This is reprinted in Millward, J (ed.) Seventeenth Century: Portraits and Documents. (Hutchinson, Essex). 106. 9 ‘The Barebones Parliament’. This is reprinted in Millward, ibid. 107. 10 Article I and XXXIII, of the Instrument of Government, 1653. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 407. 11 ‘The Humble Petition and Advice, 1757’. This is reprinted in Millward, J (ed.) Seventeenth Century: Portraits and Documents. (Hutchinson, Essex). 112. 12 Midgley, H (2016). ‘Political Thinking and the Creation of the Assembly of 1653’. The Seventeenth Century 31(1): 37–56; Hammersley, R (2013). ‘Rethinking the Political Thought of James Harrington’. History of European Ideas. 39(3): 354–70; Worden, B (2010). ‘Oliver Cromwell and the Protectorate’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 20: 57–83; Patterson, M (2015). ‘Hobbes Smashes Cromwell and the Rump: An Interpretation of Leviathan’. Political Theory. 43(5): 631–56; Capozzi, E (1998). Republicanism and Representative Democracy: The Heritage of James Harrington’. European Review of History. 5(2): 197–204; Peacey, J (1998). ‘Nibbling at Leviathan: Politics and Theory in English in the 1650s’. The Huntington The English Historical Review Library Quarterly 61(2): 241–57; Bushman, R (1963). ‘English Franchise Reform in the Seventeenth Century’. The Journal of British Studies. 3: 35–56. 13 Gillespie, A (2017). The Causes of War (Hart, Oxford) III: 127–135. 14 Rodrix, D (2011). The Globalisation Paradox (Norton, NYC) 7–8; O’Brien, P (2000). ‘Mercantilism and Imperialism in the Rise and Decline of the Dutch and British Economies, 1585–1815’. De Economist. 148(4): 469–501; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 65; Nussbaum, F (1953). The Triumph of Science and Reason, 1660–1685. (Harper, NYC). 66–68, 70. 15 Article 1 of the 1651 Navigation Act, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 206–7. 16 As quoted in Kennedy, P (1976). The Rise and Fall of British Sea Mastery. (Scribner, NYC). 48. 17 Jones, J (1996). The Anglo-Dutch Wars of the Seventeenth Century. (Longman, London). 107–15; Sawers, L (1992). ‘The Navigation Acts Revisited’. Economic History Review 45(2): 262–84; Also, Johnsen, O (1949). ‘The Navigation Act of 9 October, 1651’. History. 34(120): 89–96. 18 See Weindl, A (2009). ‘Grotius’s Mare Liberum in the Political Practice of Early Modern Europe’. Grotiana. 30(1): 131–51. Also, Van-Holk, L (ed.) The Grotius Reader. (Asser Institute. The Hague, 1999). 90. 92, 145–60. 19 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 43; Groeveld, S (1987). ‘The English Civil Wars as a Cause of the First Anglo-Dutch War’. The Historical Journal 30(3): 541–

66. 20 For the 1654 trade deal between England and Russia see 3 CTS 315. 21 This quote is from art. 1 of the 1654 Treaty Between England and Sweden. It is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 21. The 1656 update is in the same volume, at 48; the 1661 update, at 63; and the 1665 update, at 86. 22 The Treaty of Peace and Alliance between Portugal and England. This is reprinted in Davenport, ibid, II: 31. 23 The Treaty of Peace and Alliance between Denmark and England. This is reprinted in Davenport, ibid. II: 36. See also, Chambers, G (1790). A Collection of Treaties Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Stockdale, London). I: 1–2. 24 Art 1 of the Treaty between the United Netherlands and England, 1654, is reprinted in Davenport, ibid, II: 7. 25 Ibid, art 12. 26 Ibid. 27 On the question of protocol at sea, for the period, see Zouche, Z (1650). Law between Nations, and Questions Concerning the Same. (trans, Brierly, B, Baltimore Press, Maryland, 1911). 126–27. 28 See pages 40–41. 29 This quote is in Abulafia, D (2019). The Boundless Sea: A Human History of the Oceans. (Allen Lane, London). 770. 30 For the 1655 Treaty of Peace between England and France, see Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 40. The linkage with the United Provinces is 4 CTS 71. See also, Armitage, D (1992). ‘The Cromwellian Protectorate and the Languages of Empire’. The Historical Journal 35(3): 531–55. 31 See the 1656 Spanish Agreement with Charles II, as in 4 CTS 79. See also, Greenspan, N (2011). ‘Charles II, Exile and the Problem of Allegiance’. The Historical Journal 54(1): 73–103. 32 The 1657 Treaty between France and England, as in 4 CTS 347. 33 Ibid, art 3. 34 Ibid, art 10. 35 See the 1658 Treaty between France and England, as in 5 CTS 45. 36 For the Treaty of the Pyrenees, see pages 41–42. For further commentary, see Robertson, J (2002). ‘Rewriting the English Conquest of Jamaica’. The English Historical Review 117(473): 813–39; Inglis, J (1994). ‘The Battle of the Dunes, 1658’. War in History 1(3): 249–77; Armitage, D (1992). ‘The Cromwellian Protectorate and the Languages of Empire’. The Historical Journal 35(3): 531–55; Horowitz, E (1959). ‘Anglo-French Relations Under Charles II, 1660–1685’. The Social Studies 50(6): 220–23; Nussbaum, F (1953). The Triumph of Science and Reason, 1660–1685. 253. 37 Fitzgibbobs, J (2013). ‘Hereditary Succession and the Cromwellian Protectorate: The Offer of the Crown’. The English Historical Review 128(534): 1095–128; Fitzgibbons, J (2010). ‘Reassessing the Nomination of Richard Cromwell’. Historical Research. 83(220): 281–300; Woolrych, A (1957). ‘The Good Old Cause and the Fall of the Protectorate’. The Cambridge Historical Journal 13(2): 133–61. 38 The 1660 Declaration of Breda. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 420. 39 This wording is from the 1660 Act of Free and General Pardon. It is printed in Statutes of the Realm (London, 1819). 5 (1628–1680): 226. Also, Jones, J (1963). ‘Political Groups and Tactics in the Convention of 1660’. The Historical Journal 6(2): 159–77; Hardacre, P (1973). ‘The Genesis of the Declaration of Breda, 1657–1660’. Journal of Church and State 15(1): 65–82. 40 Horowitz, E (1959). ‘Anglo-French Relations Under Charles II, 1660–1685’. The Social Studies 50(6): 220–23. 41 As quoted in Thomas, D (1969). A Long Time Burning: A History of Literary Censorship in England. (Praeger, NYC). 13. See also, Barber, A (2013). ‘Censorship, Freedom of the Press and Religious Debate in Early Eighteenth Century England’. History. 98(333): 680–707. 42 The sale of Dunkirk can be found at 7 CTS 257. See also, Horowitz, E (1959). ‘Anglo-French Relations Under Charles II, 1660–1685’. The Social Studies 50(6): 220–23; Swaine, S (1883). ‘The English Acquisition and Loss of Dunkirk’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 1(2): 93–118.

43 See the 1660 Treaty between Portugal and England, as in 5 CTS 499. 44 The Marriage Treaty of 1661 is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). 286. See also Belcher, G (1975). ‘Spain and the Anglo-Portuguese Alliance of 1661: A Reassessment of Charles II’s Foreign Policy at the Restoration’. Journal of British Studies. 15(1): 67–88. 45 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 44. 46 The 1662 Treaty of Friendship between Britain and the United Netherlands. Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 73. 47 Charles, as in Nussbaum, F (1953). The Triumph of Science and Reason, 1660–1685. (Harper, NYC). 69. The Navigation Act of 1660. This is reprinted in Millward, J (ed.) Seventeenth Century: Portraits and Documents. (Hutchinson, Essex). 166. Also, Gijs, R (2005). ‘Dutch Radical Republicanism and English Restoration Politics During the 1660s’. Dutch Crossing. 29(2): 241–64; Gijs, R (2002). ‘The Fishing Industry as a Cause of the Second Dutch War’. Dutch Crossing 26(1): 115–26; Pincus, S (1992). ‘Popery, Trade and Universal Monarchy: The Ideological Context of the Outbreak of the Second Anglo-Dutch War’. The English Historical Review 107(422): 1–29; McGovney, D (1904). ‘The Navigation Acts as Applied to European Trade’. The American Historical Review. 9(4): 725–34. 48 The 1662 Treaty of Alliance, Commerce and Navigation between the United Provinces and France is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 67. The 1664 Treaty between Spain and the United Provinces is at 8 CTS 187. 49 Although New Amsterdam/New York changed hands again in 1673, it was returned, and settled with England thereafter, via the second Treaty of Westminster in 1674. See Carsten, F (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 339. 50 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 363–65. 51 See the Treaty of Peace with Munster, as in 9 Consolidated Treaty Series at 123. See also, Jones, J (1996). The Anglo-Dutch Wars of the Seventeenth Century. (Longman, London). 150–52, 164–67. 52 See the 1666 Quadruple Alliance between Denmark, Brandenburg, Brunswick and the United Provinces, as in 9 CTS 323. 53 See the 1666 Treaties of Peace between France and the Iroquois. These are 9 CTS 167, 209 and 363. 54 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 45. 55 The first part of this quote is from the preamble, and the second part, from the first article. The 1667 Treaty of Breda is in Chambers, G (1790). A Collection of Treaties between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Stockdale, London). I: 133. 56 Roberts, J (2016). ‘Surrendering Surinam: The Barbadian Diaspora and the Expansion of the English Sugar Frontier, 1650–75’. The William and Mary Quarterly 73(2): 225–56; Gijs, R (2010). ‘The Role of Mercantilism in Anglo-Dutch Political Relations, 1650–74’. Economic History Review 63(3): 591–611. 57 Art 10 of the Treaty of Peace between England and France. This is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 132. 58 See the Treaty of Peace and Friendship between England and Spain, as in 10 CTS 63. 59 Article VII of the 1670 Treaty of Madrid. This is reprinted in Chalmers, G (ed.) A Collection of Treaties Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Stockdale, London). II: 34, 35. The 1667 Treaty of Peace and Commerce Between England and Spain, is also in Chalmers, II: 5. 60 Ibid, art IV of the 1670 Treaty. 61 Note, this last obligation was sorely tested when the Englishman Henry Morgan sacked the city of Panama in early 1671, and took away 175 mule loads of bullion and plunder, as well as 600 prisoners for ransom. He was exonerated and knighted because he said he had no idea that the Treaty of Madrid forbidding such events existed at the time. 62 The 1670 Treaty of Dover is at 11 CTS 295, and that from Whitehall, in the same volume at 429. 63 Pincus, S (1995). ‘The Shift in English Popular Sentiment from Anti-Dutch to Anti-French in the 1670s’. The Historical Journal. 38(2): 333–61; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 369. 64 Preamble, of the 1673 Treaty of Westminster. This is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on

the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 237. 65 Ibid, art 6. 66 Ibid, art 9. 67 See the Marine Treaty of 1674 between Britain and the United Provinces. This is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 241. See also, Boxer, C (1969). ‘Some Second Thoughts on the Third Anglo-Dutch War’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 19: 67–94; Nussbaum, F (1953). The Triumph of Science and Reason, 1660–1685. (Harper, NYC). 100, 167. 68 See the Treaty of a Defensive Alliance, as reprinted in Davenport F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 247. Note, as this was about to occur some of the colonists, via the 1678 Treaty of Neutrality between Subjects of England and France in the West Indies, attempted to stop the war spreading. This is reprinted in Davenport II: 256. Note, although this was signed by the British and French governors on Saint Christopher, in the West Indies, it was not ratified by their home governments as both tried to stretch or restrict what was covered in the zone of neutrality. See also Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 44–49; Carsten, F. (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 219. 69 The Taunton Agreement is reprinted in This is reprinted in Axelrod, A. (ed.) Encyclopedia of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I: 117. 70 See Osborn, W (2000). The Wild Frontier. (Random House, NYC). 114–15. 71 Drake, J (1997). ‘The Conduct of King Philips’s War’. The New England Quarterly. 70(1): 33–56; Ranlet, P (1988). ‘Another Look at the Causes of King Philip’s War’. The New England Quarterly. 6(1): 79–100. 72 Delucia, C (2012). ‘The Memory Frontier’. The Journal of American History. 98(4) 975–97. 73 See Cuttica, C (2012). ‘Reputation Versus Context in the Interpretation of Sir Robert Filmer’s Patriarcha’. History of Political Thought. 33(2): 231–57; Cuttica, C (2011). ‘Anti-Jesuit Patriotic Absolutism: Robert Filmer and French Ideas’. Renaissance Studies. 25(4): 559–79. 74 The 1679 Habeas Corpus Act. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 440. 75 Cowan, B (2004) ‘The Rise of the Coffeehouse Reconsidered’. The Historical Journal 47(1): 21–46; Nutting, A (1960). ‘The Most Wholesome Law: The Habeas Corpus Act of 1679’. The American Historical Review. 65(3): 527–43. 76 Toby, B (2008). ‘The Personal Rule of Charles II, 1681–1685’. The Historical Journal 51(3): 811–12; Milton, P (2000). ‘John Locke and the Rye House Plot’. The Historical Journal 43(3): 647–68. 77 See the Treaty for the Renewal of the Alliance between England and the Netherlands. This is in 17 CTS 299. 78 Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 45; Thomas, D (1969). A Long Time Burning: A History of Literary Censorship in England. (Praeger, NYC) 63. 79 Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 2–3, 23; Reinders, M (2008). ‘Popular Political Opposition During 1672 in Dutch Pamphlets’. The Seventeenth Century. 23(2): 315–46; Levillain, C (2005). ‘William III’s Military and Political Career in Neo Roman Context, 1672–1702’. The Historical Journal. 48(2): 321–50; Rommelse, G (2005). ‘Dutch Radical Republicanism and English Restoration Politics’. Dutch Crossing. 29(2): 241–64; Jones, J (1996). The Anglo-Dutch Wars of the Seventeenth Century. (Longman, London). 142; Krieger, L (1970). Kings and Philosophers: 1689–1789. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 58. 80 The ‘Invitation of the Seven to the Prince of Orange’ is reprinted in Pincus, S (ed.) England’s Glorious Revolution, 1688–1689: A Brief History with Documents. (2006, Palgrave, NYC). 37–38; Also, Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 93–94; Speck, W (1987). ‘The Orangist Conspiracy against James II’. The Historical Journal. 30(2): 453–62. 81 Article 1 of the ‘Declaration of William III’. This is reprinted in Ranum, P (ed.) The Century of Louis XIV. (Harper, NYC). 296. See also, Claydon, T (1996). ‘William III’s Declaration of Reasons and the Glorious Revolution’. The Historical Journal 39(1): 87–108. 82 ‘The Declaration of William III’, as reprinted in Pincus, S (ed.) England’s Glorious Revolution, 1688–1689: A Brief History with Documents. (2006, Palgrave, NYC). 39–41. Also Speck, W (1989). Reluctant Revolutionaries. Englishmen and

the Revolution of 1688 (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 75. 83 The 1686 Treaty of Neutrality in America between England and France, as reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 309. See also the 1687 Whitehall Agreement Respecting Peace in America, also in Davenport II: 324. See too, Pincus, S (2009). 1688: The First Modern Revolution. (Yale University Press, London). 123; Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 317; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 13, 15. 84 Levillain, C (2016). ‘French Diplomacy and the Run Up to the Glorious Revolution’. The Journal of Modern History. 88(1) 130–50; Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 97–98; Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Harlow). 193. 85 Gebler, C (2005). The Siege of Derry. (Abacus, London). 63; Ranum, P (ed.) The Century of Louis XIV. (Harper, NYC, 1972). 295–98. 86 Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 64–66, 82. 87 Vallance, T (2009). ‘Gestures of Loyalty and Disloyalty in Seventeenth Century England’. Journal of British Studies. 48(4): 848–58; Pincus, S (2009). 1688: The First Modern Revolution. (Yale University Press, London).83) 123; Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random, London). 254–262; Lynn, J. (2002). The French Wars 1667– 1714. (Osprey, London). 50. 88 The Confirmation of the Convention Parliament. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 454. Also Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 104–6,110–12. 89 The 1689 ‘Declaration of Rights’. as reprinted in Pincus, S (ed.) England’s Glorious Revolution, 1688–1689: A Brief History with Documents. (2006, Palgrave, NYC). 69–71. See also Miller, J (1982). ‘The Glorious Revolution: Contract and Abdication Reconsidered’. The Historical Journal 25(3): 541–55. 90 See the Claim of Right, as reprinted in Donaldson, G (ed.) Scottish Historical Documents. (Scottish Academic Press, Edinburgh). 255. 91 See Campbell, E (2000). ‘Oaths and Affirmations of Public Office Under English Law: An Historical Retrospect’. The Journal of Legal History 21(3): 1–32. Also, Williams, E. (1960). The Eighteenth-Century Constitution. 1688–1815. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 37–39. 92 The ‘Bill of Rights, 1689 is reprinted in in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 465. Also, Lock, G (1989). ‘The Bill of Rights’. Political Studies 37(4): 540–61. Also, Williams, E (1960). The Eighteenth-Century Constitution. 1688–1815. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 26. 93 Note, the importance of standing armies requiring the consent of Parliament, was reiterated in the Mutiny Act of 1689. 94 Locke, J Second Treatises of Government. (Laslett, P ed, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1970). 54–55. 95 Ibid at 384. See also, Gencer, B (2010). ‘Sovereignty and the Separation of Powers in John Locke’. The European Legacy 15(3): 323–39. 96 See Moseley, A (2005) ‘John Locke’s Morality of War’. Journal of Military Ethics. 4(2): 119–28; Dienstag, J (1996). ‘Social Contract Theory in Locke and the Founders’. The Journal of Politics 58(4): 985–1009; Cox, R (1960). Locke on War and Peace. (Oxford, Clarendon). 160–61. 97 The 1694 Triennial Act. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 471. 98 See pages 354–355. 99 This quote is from art 3 of the 1701 Act of Settlement. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 475. 100 The 1701 Act, ibid. 101 Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). N151, 123; Hatton, R (2001) George I. (Yale University Press, London). 77. 102 Hume, as in Hume: Political Essays. Haakonssen, K (ed.) (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1994). 32. Also,

Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 222–24. 103 Thomas, D (1969). A Long Time Burning: A History of Literary Censorship in England. (Praeger, NYC) 28–33, 38, 40–43. 104 Hume, as in Hume: Political Essays. Haakonssen, K (ed.) (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1994). 3. 105 Thomas, D (1969). A Long Time Burning: A History of Literary Censorship in England. (Praeger, NYC) 37, 45–48, 52–53; Thomas, J (1916). ‘Swift and the Stamp Act of 1712’. Modern Language Association. 31(2): 247–63. 106 Moots, G (2010). ‘John Locke Versus Contemporary Democratic Theory’. Perspectives on Political Science 39(1): 35–45; Faulkner, R (2001). ‘The First Liberal Democrat: Locke’s Popular Government’. The Review of Politics. 63(1): 5–40; Wood, E (1992). ‘Locke Against Democracy’. History of Political Thought 13(4): 657–89; Devine, F (1975). ‘Absolute Democracy or Indefeasible Right: Hobbes Versus Locke’. The Journal of Politics. 37(3): 736–68. 107 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 82, 116. 108 The Act of Settlement of 1662. This is reprinted in Millward, J (ed.) Seventeenth Century: Portraits and Documents. (Hutchinson, Essex). 180–81. 109 Connors, R (2002). ‘Parliament and Poverty in Mid Eighteenth Century England’. Parliamentary History. 21(2): 207–31. 110 Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 76. 111 Bird, W (2016). ‘Liberties of the Press and Speech in Late 18th Century England’. Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 36(1): 1–25.

III The Wars of Louis XIV 1.

Introduction

T

about Louis XIV and the wars he led his country into. Louis is probably the premier example of how monarchs can behave in war, when driven by considerations of glory, revenge and dynasty. These examples played out in 32 of the 54 years that he would rule, until his death in 1715. In all these conflicts, the causes for war were always about him, his dynasty, or his country. Although there is a hint of religion in some parts, this was minimal, but it was certainly much greater than any considerations such as war being about ideology or the rights of people. The only rights that Louis ever considered worth fighting for were his, and his alone. HIS CHAPTER IS

2.

The Ongoing Conflict with Spain

The first significant conflict that Louis took charge of was an inherited war against Spain, which had begun in 1635 and had subsequently consumed tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of soldiers. Remarkably, this conflict missed the ending of the wider conflict that was going on around it at the same time, with the Peace of Westphalia.1 The war with Spain overlapped with the civil war that France was ensnared in the early 1650s. As part of this process, the Spanish King, Philip IV, made treaties with the parts of France that were sympathetic to him or had surrendered (and were allowed to retain their liberty if they did not rise again).2 In reply, the French monarchy made alliances or peace with the other French princes,3 and with the Swiss,4 and Portuguese5 as well as with rebels in Spain (especially in Barcelona in Catalonia), which rose up against the Spanish royalty. The young French King, Louis XIV, who had taken power in 1654, realised that the only way he could win the war against Spain was to escalate it. To do this he did two things. First, he made a deal6 with the English Anglican and Republican Cromwell for peace, commerce and to jointly fight the Catholic monarch of Spain. The United Provinces joined this alliance against Spain in 1655.7 Of the latter, this alliance worked successfully, and for which his two Protestant partners were rewarded.

Second, he made sure that Spain would not add to its list of allies, and critically, would become isolated and unable to call for help from Leopold I, the Holy Roman Emperor. This second step was an important move, as Leopold I, who had ventured into the conflicts in the same time period around Poland-Lithuania,8 had built some offensive and defensive alliances with Bohemia and Brandenburg, and these overlapped with a defensive alliance which linked together a number of the areas along the Rhine.9 Louis dealt with this potential threat by making deals with the Palatinate in 1656,10 and then with the Princes of the Rhine in the middle of August, 1658 (reiterated in 1660) which promised peace and positive relations.11 (a) Peace With this system of having solid allies in place, and having isolated potential aggressors who could join the enemy, he was able to marshal his forces and push Spain towards the comprehensive 1659 Treaty of the Pyrenees that followed. The agreement, which was sorted out between early May and 7 November (when it was finally signed) favoured Louis. Although some territory was returned to Spain, it mostly confirmed all the French awards at the Peace of Westphalia and added a number of recently acquired strongholds in Luxembourg, Hainaut and Flanders (in the Spanish Netherlands). These areas were now to be considered the possessions of France. It also agreed that ‘the division of both the said kingdoms … [shall be] … the Pyrenean mountains’.12 In exchange, Louis promised not to help Portugal (which was, at that point, battling Spain to regain its independence) and he also renounced his own claims on the province of Barcelona. Both sides also promised not to ship contraband to the enemy of the other.13 (b) Maria Theresa of Spain The glue that was meant to hold the peace together was a marriage between the daughter (from the first marriage) of the Spanish king, Maria Theresa14 and the King of France. As a result, she renounced her claims to any Spanish dynastic rights. This allowed the will of Philip IV to make his son (Spanish Carlos II) his sole heir, while Maria Theresa was ‘forever excluded’15 from any Spanish inheritance. In exchange for her lack of claim, she was meant to have come with a large dowry of 500,000 gold crowns (but the money never arrived). With this match, the dynastic potential of the union between Bourbon and Habsburg, the two most powerful dynasties in western Europe, was huge. Soon after, in 1663, another giant match was made when Margaret Theresa – Philip IV’s other daughter – was married off to Leopold I (the Holy Roman Emperor).

3.

The War of Spanish Inheritance

Before conflict broke out again with Spain, Louis spent the 1660s building working relationships with many of his neighbours. This involved alliances with Sweden, the United Provinces (which later slipped briefly into conflict with England in 1666) in the early 1660s, and then similar arrangements with Switzerland, as well as key areas in Germany such as Brandenburg and Saxony, closer to the mid-1660s.16 This collection of alliances connected to France, coincided with the death of the Spanish king, Philip IV, in September 1665. He left to his son (from his second marriage) Carlos II, a massive territory with significant holdings in the New World, albeit one that was slowly drowning, slipping in and out of bankruptcy. (a) The Justification Louis XIV did not dispute that Spain belonged to Carlos, but he was very annoyed that the dowry that had been promised with his marriage to Maria Theresa, as part of the 1659 peace settlement with Spain, had never been paid. As this debt was outstanding, he argued that the exclusion from her father’s inheritance (in 1659) was, therefore, void, to which the will of Philip IV leaving Spain and all his possessions only to his son, had to be revisited. He argued, in the Manifesto sent to Spain at the outset of the war: It is neither the ambition of possessing new states nor the desire of winning glory which inspires the most Christian king [referring to himself, Louis XIV] with the sign of maintaining the right of the queen, his wife.17

Using the law of the Spanish Netherlands, he argued his wife, as a child from a first marriage, had rights to inherit goods and property that trumped the rights of a child from a second marriage (Carlos II). This legal theory of ‘devolution’ within civil law, was taken by Louis to apply to an international context whereby property ‘devolved’ to the earlier children, including in terms of cross-boundary claims. Thus, Louis, demanded parts of the Spanish Netherlands for his wife, as a child from the first marriage of Philip IV, in satisfaction of the dowry that was never paid, as promised, in the 1659 Treaty of the Pyrenees. In terms of geography, the lawyers of the French King thus argued that, inter alia, the duchy of Brabant, Antwerp, Malines, Cambrai and the rest of Artois, large parts of Hainaut and Luxemburg, and a third of France-Comte would be fitting compensation for the unpaid dowry and in accordance with the legal idea of devolution.18 (b) The Action Aside from these arguments, Louis was aware that the new Spanish king, Carlos II, was both under a regency and physically weak. Spain was also involved in ongoing conflicts with both Portugal and England, while France was looking strong, having added to all of its recent alliances with a new, very close alliance with the United Provinces in early May 1667.19 From this strength, seventy thousand French soldiers advanced to take possession of the geographical areas that had been sketched out in advance. The areas he claimed were

obtained with relatively little resistance, with only a few thousand casualties during the entire conflict, in what was more of a parade of occupation than a bloody conquest. Many mumbled about the methods used to acquire these territories, but few were willing to stand, at the outset, in the way of the French king.20 (c) The Creation of a Collective Force against France While it was quite possible that Louis was going to expand further into the Spanish territories of the weak Carlos II, he was suddenly forced to stop when it became apparent that Spain had made peace with both Portugal and England, thus freeing up valuable resources for the fight against France. In early 1668, Spain agreed to the Treaty of Lisbon. For the price of their former colonial area of Ceuta in Africa, Spain accepted the independence of Portugal, the integrity of most of the remaining Portuguese Empire and the ruling (Braganza) dynasty on the Portuguese throne.21 Peace was also made with England in 1667 (and then deepened in 1670). In addition to reconciling with England and Portugal, Spain had gone one step further and, through a series of interlinking treaties, had joined the ‘Triple Alliance’. The core of this alliance, concluded in late January 1668, was the promises of friendship and mutual security between the United Provinces, Sweden and England.22 For the price of subsidies in support of their new allies, (Catholic) Spain joined this alliance. In the shadows, in the middle of October 1688, a secret agreement23 was also struck by Saxony, Brandenburg, BrunswickHanover and Hesse-Cassel, to start a collective force on the middle and lower Rhine for the defence of the Empire against France, if required. The genius of this thinking was that in building an overwhelming and unified group, one country which would otherwise be isolated, could not be easily consumed by France.24 Louis was furious at this arrangement of the Triple Alliance plus Spain. In addition to his strong anger against the Dutch (see below), he found the English equally annoying, having given them easy terms to end that same conflict, which they had repaid with the ingratitude of switching from fighting the Dutch, to implicitly threatening him. Spain, he was not so worried about, as he quickly reached a secret deal with Carlos II that the Spanish would not attack him for at least one year, for which they would receive colonial territory in the West Indies. (d) Peace, kind of Although Louis could have chosen to fight the Alliance against him, at this point, he instead opted for diplomacy, agreeing to the Treaty of Aix-la- Chapelle in the middle of 1688, to find peace with Spain. With this, although Louis restored the Franche-Comte to Spain, it was agreed the French king would, ‘remain vested with, and will enjoy complete possession of, all the strongholds, forts and places, which his arms have occupied or fortified’25 during the

recent campaign of 1667 in the Spanish Netherlands. (e) Planning for the Next Long-term Conflict The greater reason why Louis did not pick up a fight against these countries at this point, was that although he had just acquired a small piece of the Spanish territories, he was envisaging something much greater. That vision was found in a secret treaty (which accompanied the public Treaty of Peace and Friendship)26 made between the King of France and Emperor Leopold I of the Holy Roman Empire. Of note, Leopold stayed neutral in the wars of devolution with Spain over 1667 and 1668. The Emperor, who had not joined the Alliance against France, was also positioning for something greater. What the two men had in mind was settled in a secret treaty they struck in 1668. This was the first plan for partition of the Spanish realm, in the event of the premature death of the sickly Carlos II, having no legitimate children to pass the inheritance onto. This plan was justified: [S]o that the utmost precaution might be taken to guard their posterity against the evils of war, since they are bound together by the closest ties of blood and marriage alliance, and both are thus bound to … Carlos II.27

Accordingly, the French king and the Holy Roman Emperor schemed, should the Spanish king, ‘die prematurely without children or a lawful marriage … [then] … to prevent the fires of a new war which might easily be kindled by controversy over so great an inheritance …’28 between them, France and the Austrian Habsburgs would agree to the partition of the Spanish realm in advance. This would avoid sliding into war over this issue in the future.

4.

The War of France and England against the Dutch Republic

(a) The Reasons While Louis was watching the long-term situation of Spain with great interest, his immediate focus was revenge on the United Provinces. Although, Louis would later record that the action was driven by his desire for ambition and glory, the more specific context would suggest that he was very angry with the recent Dutch posturing towards him (the creation of the Triple Alliance and allowing Spain to join). He now saw the Dutch as particularly duplicitous, accusing them of ‘ingratitude, bad faith and insupportable vanity’.29 He was also angry that he had supported their financial sector, at great benefit to that country. In addition, Louis resented the republicanism and the Protestant faith of his Dutch neighbours. Personal insults to the French Crown also upset him. Finally, his hatred was fanned by his advisors’ constant harping about the economic power and trade of the Dutch, and how this could be taken and consumed by France. Collectively, there was, as the Dutch envoy to France noted in the lead-up to the conflict, ‘profound dissatisfaction’ with the United Provinces, and the French king did not try to conceal his, ‘intention to take revenge without fail for what has

been done’.30 (b) Planning Although Louis was angry, he was not impatient. Rather, learning from the past, he planned his next adventure carefully, seeking to divide up his opposition in advance. The first step towards this goal occurred at the end of 1669, with his secret alliance with Brandenburg.31 A few months later, the French king concluded both a secret and public treaty with Charles II of England. While the secret Treaty of Dover (of May 1670) was a restoration of Catholicism in England, the second, the Treaty of Whitehall (of December 1670) contained all the same goals as agreed at Dover, but without the religious element. The primary goal was of a war of premeditated aggression against the Dutch Republic. In this conflict, both France and England hoped to gain strategic and economic advantages, while solidifying their monarchies at the expense of their proposed enemy, or as the fifth clause in the agreement stated: [T]o humble the pride of the States-General [the Dutch Parliament] and to destroy the power of a people which has … shown ingratitude to those who have helped create its Republic.32

The secret treaty also broadly sketched out how to divide the territories of the United Provinces, with England set to acquire some towns and islands at the mouth of the Scheldt. To help achieve these goals, the English Charles II promised to provide the French Louis XIV with 60 warships and 4,000 soldiers.33 The second step that Louis took to isolate the United Provinces in advance of his war against them, was the lavish use of the vast French financial reserves, as subsidies, gifts and bribes all flowing from Versailles, and all with the object of making sure no-one answered the call when the Dutch yelled for help. The most significant deals made for this conflict involved Sweden swapping sides and accepting French money to join a new alliance with France (and not the United Provinces).34 Even Munster, Brunswick and Cologne joined France for the adventure.35 Further, Louis devised a strategy to keep some countries out of any future alliances against him via subsidies (such as with the electors of Brandenburg and Bavaria) or promises that if conflict did break out, it would not spill over the border and neutrality could be observed, such with the 1671 Treaty of Vienna and the Holy Roman Emperor Leopold, which, ostensibly confirmed the Peace of Westphalia and that of Aix-la-Chapelle. With these secure, Emperor Leopold found the French attacking the Protestant Dutch, sat easy with the Catholic principles he shared with the French king, and their recent secret treaty he shared with Louis, for the potential division of Spain in the future.36 The third step was that as soon as war was declared by France, England followed suit. This was unexpected as only a few months earlier the English had, duplicitously, signed a new treaty professing their friendship with the Dutch. Then, when the French began their war against the United Provinces, Charles, the English king, acting in accordance with the secret

1670 treaties with Louis (as supplemented in 1672 with a clear alliance and a promise of a strict union of interests),37 repudiated his recent friendship pact with the United Provinces and dispatched the English fleet against the ‘Dutch blockheads’.38 The public reasons he gave were the lack of Dutch respect for the rights of English planters in Suriname, the loss of tolls in some regions, and a medal cast which was offensive to the King. An offensive tapestry portraying the battle of Medway, and guided tours of captured English war trophies also angered him. The importance of royal sovereignty over the seas was also added.39 (c) The Killing Begins With all these words and treaties behind them, the first joint action by France and England against the Dutch occurred at Solebay on 7 June 1672. In this battle, some 93 English and French ships attacked 75 Dutch ships, but neither side could claim victory. Then, on 12 June, more than 100,000 men under the personal direction of Louis XIV crossed the Rhine near Elten. The French advanced quickly, bypassing strongpoints such as Maastricht, returning to capture them later with relative ease. The meant that within only a few weeks of launching the war, the French had turned the Dutch line of defence and Amsterdam was only 20 miles away. In addition, the principality of Orange, the independent enclave within Provence, France (which was also a Protestant and Huguenot stronghold, as well as the home of William of Orange, the future Stadholder of the United Provinces and King of England as William III) was captured by Louis. The Dutch then fell back on their last resource, breaking down the dykes and flooding the land around Amsterdam. The Dutch then asked for peace talks, but although Louis talked, his demands were extravagant. On hearing them, the Dutch states-general overthrew the government of Johan de Witt, and he and his brother were ripped apart by an angry mob on 20 August 1672. He was replaced by the young Prince of Orange – the future William III of England. William was given all the powers he needed to ensure the survival of the Dutch Republic.40 (d) The Dutch Survival via the Re-creation of a Web of Alliances Against the odds, the Dutch Republic hung on, and gradually clawed its way back into the fight. The core of this was the recruitment of new allies. First, Brandenburg-Prussia at the end of 1672 promised the Dutch 20,000 soldiers in exchange for a hefty subsidy.41 Emperor Leopold, despite his earlier promise of neutrality, supported Brandenburg in this positioning, and although he himself did not declare war against the French (thus, initially, maintaining the façade of neutrality), Habsburg and imperial forces took the field, thus causing the overlapping French allies of Munster and Cologne to start to seriously wonder about their position. Next, in early August 1673, the United Provinces broke the Swedes out of the French orbit, with a very lucrative trade deal for them (and the promise that all their joint colonial disputes in America would be resolved peacefully).42

A few weeks later on 30 August, a new treaty linked the Spanish and the Dutch ‘conjointly and by common agreement, and reciprocally, to defend, assist and preserve each other in the possessions of the states, towns, places and districts’43 which they possessed or had recently lost to France. Although this treaty was primarily aimed at the French, it was added that if peace with England was not forthcoming, Spain would also declare war on them. The Emperor now came out of the shadows and also promised to join in helping Spain to give support to the United Provinces, and Denmark, too, pledged allegiance to this group.44 With these signatures, both Imperial and Spanish troops were now sent to help the United Provinces. Peace was made with Munster, then Cologne, and finally with England, thus breaking the English Charles II away from his French cousin, Louis XIV.45 (e) The Expanding Franco-Dutch War As England focused on its domestic issues and its clashes with the indigenous populations in their North American colonies, the war against the Dutch Republic and France flared with even greater intensity. In the Caribbean, at Fort Pierre (on the island of Martinique) in the middle of 1674, the Dutch attempted to take the island from the French. However, despite being massively outnumbered (18 Dutch ships and 3,400 soldiers as opposed to one French frigate and 160 men), they repelled the Dutch attack, forcing them to retreat across the Atlantic. A few weeks later, the French recorded another victory, when the reconfigured belligerents clashed at Seneffe (modern-day south Belgium, below Brussels) on 11 August 1674. In this epic battle, where some 110,000 men faced each on the battlefield, although the French lost 10,000 out of a force of 45,000, the Dutch-Spanish-Imperial Habsburgs lost over 15,000 dead or wounded and a further 5,000 captured. The following battle at Enzheim (modern-day, north-eastern France) a little under two months later on 4 October, saw some 60,000 men clash, and although the French were at a numeric disadvantage, they inflicted a near equal amount of casualties on the opposition. The result, for both teams, was gridlock as neither side could gain the upper hand.46 The following year, the French tried to advance to the east, pushing into Alsace, after gaining a victory over Frederick William, the Elector of Brandenburg (who lost 3,000 of his army to an enemy ten times that size) at Turckheim, in early January, 1675. Naval battles of significance followed in the Mediterranean as the Dutch sought to protect the Italian possessions of Spain from France. In late April 1676, some 27 Dutch-Spanish ships of the line fought against 29 French at the Battle of Augusta, in which the French retreated after their naval commander was killed.47 The killing then spread northwards, in the so-called Scanian War. Although linked to the original conflict, this was now almost a separate affair between Denmark, Brandenburg, the United Provinces and the Holy Roman Empire – all against Sweden. Although Sweden was no longer considered as being on the team of the United Provinces, the broader opportunities of a united attack on an isolated Sweden appealed to many of the Swedish neighbours and the Dutch. The conflict began with the young Swedish King Charles XI taking a loss to

Brandenburg (losing 600 men out of their 13,000) at Fehrbellin in late June 1675. At Oland, on 11 June 1676, a combined Dutch and Danish fleet of 47 vessels completely overpowered a smaller Swedish fleet of 55, destroying eight and capturing seven of the opposition. This gave the Dutch-Danish side control over the Baltic. Despite these losses, the Swedes recomposed themselves with the spectacular result being at Lund, in early December 1676, when 8,000 Swedish troops defeated 11,000 opposing Dutch and Danish troops, destroying over two-thirds of the opposition with over half of them killed in action. A near repeat performance followed at Landskrona in the middle of the following year, although the Danes solidified their control of the Baltic at the battle of Kioge Bay in early July 1677, when just under one-third of the (31) Swedish vessels were neutralised, at a cost of some 4,000 Swedish sailors.48 For the following months, the United Provinces doubled down (with additional subsidies) on all its significant existing military alliances with Spain, Denmark, and Prussia. England then re-entered the conflict, except this time on the side of the Dutch.49 The next major battle that occurred in the middle of August 1678 began to reflect this changing status. Now, 40,000 French attempted to take Mons (south west, modern-day Belgium). They were opposed by 45,000 Dutch, Spanish, and now English, soldiers. In the carnage that followed, although both sides lost about 4,000 men, the French won on the field, but were so damaged they could not complete their attack on Mons. The scale of the havoc was such that all sides agreed to an armistice five days after the battle, as they were all ready to seriously talk about peace.50 (f) Peace with the Treaties of Nijmegen The negotiations for peace began in 1678, the month after the August bloodbath. They concluded in early February 1679. These were complicated negotiations, involving six interlinking treaties, which were rolled out as they were concluded. Once completed, seven years of killing that claimed, at a best guess, about 175,000 lives, came to an end.51 The first treaty to be unveiled, on 17 September 1678, between France and the United Provinces had the former adversaries promise each other a ‘good, firm and inviolable peace’. Within this pledge, the French agreed to return Maastricht, allowing the United Provinces to regain their pre-war boundaries (but with the proviso that Catholicism must be permissible in the returned areas). The French, in a supplementary commerce treaty, agreed to remove discriminatory tariffs that targeted the Dutch.52 The peace deal between the Spanish and the French, agreed on the same day as that with the Dutch, had Louis retain Franche-Comte/Burgundy, and, in the Spanish Netherlands, a number of valuable cities including, amongst others, Yprès, Cambrai and Bouchain. However, the French king restored some areas he had taken, including Gent, Courtrai and Charleroi and returned these to Spain. The result ended up with the French northern border, more or less, where it would sit henceforth. In addition, Marie Louise, the niece of Louis XIV, was married off to the king of Spain.53

France made peace with the Holy Roman Empire in early February, 1679. This brought an end to the killing all along the Rhine. Within this peace, the French lost the right to garrison Philippsburg, but they did gain Freiburg (today, in the lower south-west corner of Germany), preserving a bridge across the Rhine. The Duke of Lorraine was restored to his duchy, and the 1648 Peace of Munster was restored in its entirety.54 A further treaty in 1679, the Peace of Saint-Germain-en-Laye, dealt with Brandenburg (which received compensation) and restored to France’s ally, Sweden, the territories recently lost to Brandenburg (thus returning them to what they had been before they intervened on behalf of France).55 The additional 1679 Treaty of Fontainebleau ended the killing between France, Sweden and Denmark.56 The essence of this deal was that Sweden would retain all its possessions as they existed before the recent conflict (that is Denmark would not retrieve the territory that it had lost in earlier conflicts with Sweden, but it would get compensation). The 1679 Treaty of Lund confirmed this result. The only conciliatory move was an agreed marriage between Charles XI with Ulrike Eleonora (the daughter of the Danish king), in the (mistaken) hope that this union would end future conflict between their countries.57

5.

The Reunion Wars

(a) The Thinking of the French King Louis XIV did not find peace an enticing prospect. No sooner had the killing stopped in the inter-related wars he had started with and around the United Provinces, than he turned to a new model that would, again, disrupt the region. This time, the idea was that all territories and cities that had ever been dependencies of the lands he or his father had acquired (but had not been in the recent peace treaties in 1648, 1659, 1668 and 1678) and had not been clearly defined in terms of ownership, needed to be investigated, and if necessary, ‘reunited’ with their original owners. In some instances, such as between Spain and France, special commissioners had been established by the recent peace treaties to help establish the new border between the two countries. In other instances, (such as Metz, Besancon and Breisach) the French king had the claims investigated in a Special Chamber of ‘Reunion’ in France.58 Thus, although condemned by scholars such as Leibniz for the ‘imaginary rights’59 of the French King, Louis continued the process which allowed France to be the plaintiff, judge and executor of the judicial decisions that involved contested sovereignties on three fronts: the Spanish Netherlands west of the Meuse, the Pyrenees, and Luxembourg. (b) The Response of his Neighbours As Louis was busy declaring what was his, the Spanish were the first to call for help, to which a defensive league was agreed (at Windsor) with Britain in 1680. This promised ‘a

closer league of defence and union’ between England and Spain, ‘for mutually defending and maintaining one another in the possession of all the dominions, cities, places and regions, belong to them’.60 Louis responded to this alliance against him with new alliances of his own. Hanover, with the help of some attractive subsidies, fell into the French orbit, as did Brandenburg which also agreed to a defensive alliance to help the king of France to maintain all the ‘advantages’ due him by the Treaties of Nijmegen (ie what Louis saw as legitimate ‘reunions’).61 As the opposing sides were starting to team up, the first area awarded to France, by France, was the county of Chimy, in Spanish-owned Luxembourg. The other areas that the Special Chamber focused on was the western parts of the Holy Roman Empire, especially Alsace and the Saar. Within this mix, the free Imperial city of Strasburg was duly surrounded (as Louis argued it was necessary to hold this area for the defence of France) and was forced to surrender in late September 1681. With the complimentary bridgehead of Kehl on the east bank of the Rhine in French hands, the French now commanded the most favourable crossing point of this river. At the same point, French troops besieged and occupied Alsace and surrounding areas around the river Po, while in Italy, Casale was seized, having previously been bought from the Duke of Mantua.62 These actions prompted another alliance to start forming against Louis. This occurred on 10 October 1681 when the Treaty of the Hague was signed. This was an alliance and guarantee of the peace, based on the treaties of Westphalia and Nijmegen. It was signed, originally, by the United Provinces and, surprisingly, Sweden (which was now backing away from its links to France).63 Second, as France began to increase its subsidies and deepen its defensive alliance to Brandenburg and Denmark,64 the Laxenburg Alliance was formed. This was a small circle of powers made up of Habsburg Austria, as well as parts of Bavaria, Alsace and the Duchy of Lorraine.65 They joined in 1682. Spain committed itself to the Treaty of the Hague (with Sweden and the United Provinces as the core) as did Leopold I, the Holy Roman Emperor.66 Meanwhile, on the opposite of the ledger, Savoy was linked by defensive alliance to France, and in 1683, the links to Denmark and Brandenburg were deepened, and Cologne was added as a friend of Louis. The Duke of Savoy, Victor Armadeus was sweetened up even further by being made part of the family, via a royal wedding to Princess Anne, another of Louis XIV’s nieces.67 (c) Truce The reason that Emperor Leopold and most of the weight of the Holy Roman Empire did not turn against France at this point was because of the attack by the Ottomans on Austria and their attempt to capture Vienna. Despite the complicity of Louis XIV in supporting this Ottoman attack, the French king (and Brandenburg) agreed to the 20-year Truce of Ratisbon with the other Christian European countries (especially Austria, the Holy Roman Empire, and Spain at the core) in mid-August, 1684.

Louis consented to this because he was aware how bad it looked to be fighting the Catholic Holy Roman Empire on its western border while its core, Vienna, was in a critical life and death struggle on the eastern side against the Muslim forces of Turkey. Accordingly, France accepted the truce so, in theory, they could, as collective Christian Europe, concentrate on the Ottoman threat as opposed to fighting each other. On the ground, in western Europe this meant some areas (Strasbourg and Luxembourg) passed to Louis, while the remainder (in the Spanish Netherlands) was to be returned, and commissioners were to be appointed to determine the boundaries between France and the Emperor.68 (d) Breach Despite this commitment, soon after the Ottomans arrived before Vienna (13 July) Louis returned to the offensive on 31 August 1684. At this point (before the siege of Vienna was broken) the French ambassador declared to the new governor of the Spanish Netherlands, that since the Spanish king had rejected the offer of arbitration, and refused to satisfy French claims, the French would cross the border. To make the point stick, Spanish Luxembourg was invaded by 27,000 French soldiers. As the Spanish defences were not deep, it became a possession for the French king, at a cost of only 2,500 casualties.69 As the French were starting a war against the Spanish, a bigger provocation occurred in 1685, when Louis started making claims pertaining to a dynastic inheritance in the Palatinate of his sister-in-law, Elizabeth Charlotte (who was the daughter of Charles Louis, the Elector of the Palatine, who died in May 1685). Louis claimed that half of the Palatinate therefore, belonged to his family (even though the applicable law appeared to exclude her). The problem was complicated by the fact that this Protestant area, was about to move into a Catholic lineage, despite the commitments of the 1648 Treaty of Westphalia guaranteeing that this would not occur. This religious consideration then overlapped with the French King’s revocation of the Edict of Nantes which created strong concerns throughout Europe, as Protestant refugees streamed out of France in search of sanctuary. Louis responded to such criticism by declaring himself to be the embodiment of peace, trust, goodwill, ‘sweetness and light’.70 The French King then demanded that the Truce of Ratisbon be turned into a permanent settlement, and thus, [T]o yield to him by definitive treaty, all the placed which had been reunited to his Crown … and by this put an end to all occasions of misunderstanding between him and the Empire.71

The response to such demands was the creation of further alliances, with the League of Augsburg being formed in July 1686. This league, with the Laxenburg Alliance at its core, was now joined by Spain, the Palatinate and Sweden.72 By secret alliance, Brandenburg, which had recently reconciled with the United Provinces, added to this equation, promising to help the Emperor (not Louis as previously promised) in his struggle against France, putting 8,000 men at his disposal in exchange for lucrative subsidies, cession of some territory and renunciation of claims over other parts.73 Even Pope Innocent XI voiced support

for the League, despite the fact it linked Protestant and Catholic countries. The final matter which tipped the scales towards war in 1688 was the disputed succession in Cologne. The choice of Elector for Cologne (with the last, pro-French one having recently died in early June) was a massive international contest, as the specific area under the archbishopric (which lay along the left bank of the Rhine) included Cologne, as well as three important fortresses (Bonn, Rheinberg and Kaiserwerth). On the one hand, the Holy Roman Emperor and the Pope wanted the 17-year-old Joseph Clement, the son of the Elector of Bavaria to succeed. Louis, however, preferred the pro-French Cardinal Furstenburg, arguing that to replace this orientation would allow an inexperienced Clement, leading to an end to public tranquillity in the area. In the disputed election which followed, although the French candidate was successful, the Pope refused to give Furstenburg a dispensation and the Emperor refused to confirm him in the electoral dignity. As this was occurring, the United Provinces became tightened by a renewed treaty of alliance with Brandenburg (in late June), while Austria and the United Provinces (in early July) publicly reconfirmed their alliance of 1681.74 Undeterred by such posturing, in late August Louis mobilised 16,000 troops to prepare to enter the region to occupy the Electorate of Cologne (and the forts within it). Louis then publicly wrote to Pope Innocent XI, declaring that, ‘any refusal by his Holiness to grant the necessary bulls in favour of Furstenburg would only serve to set off a war in the Empire which it would be hard to end’.75 Louis ended his letter by telling those opposing him that they had until the end of the year to accept his conditions. As it was, the time period was not required, as on 18 October 1688, the Emperor rejected the demands of the French King, defining Louis as a ‘perfidious prince that violates his faith’.76 Leopold was helped in this definition, for while he had been drafting the reply, Louis had, at the end of September (one week after his own letter), sent 30,000 men forward to seize the Elector of Trier’s fortress of Philippsburg (which was manned by an Imperial garrison) in order to close off the Rhine. After Philippsburg fell at the end of October 1688, the forces of Louis advanced to take Mannheim via violence, with a suite of other towns falling without resistance. The geographical result was that, soon after, Louis controlled the Rhine south of Mainz all the way to the Swiss border.77 (e) The Invasion of England by William of Orange Just under a week after Philippsburg fell, following an invitation from a group of English nobles William of Orange, the Stadholder of the United Provinces, landed on the English beaches on 5 November 1688. The invitation, invasion, and rapid political evolution of England is retold in detail in the last chapter. The significance for this chapter, is that within a very short space of time of the Glorious Revolution, England had gone from being a potential ally of France, to a steadfast enemy.

6.

The Nine Years War

Exactly where the roots of the Nine Years War lay is a matter for debate, although they were certainly between the 1659 Treaty of the Pyrenees and the 1688 invasion of England by William of Orange. The result was the greatest conflict in Europe since the Thirty Years War. The conflict raged throughout Europe, from Ireland to Germany, North America and even as far as the Caribbean, India and the coasts of Africa. However, it did not spread to the north and the east. Russia was preoccupied with other matters, and Denmark and Sweden opted for neutrality in this conflict, having been too bloodied in earlier ones.78 While this was good for the north of Europe, for the other belligerents, the scale and impact of the warfare was massive. The total French losses in dead and disabled was around 160,000; for those they fought against, this figure was over 200,000.79 (a) The Grand Alliance I The first part of the unified war effort in the Nine Years War against Louis was built on 11 February 1689, when the Imperial Diet of the Holy Roman Empire, declared war on France and gave the Emperor the power to collect the taxes he needed to fight effectively. Three months later, the second part was built and the foundations for the ‘Grand Alliance’ were assembled, when the Dutch (with William III at the helm of their efforts, as well as those of England) and Emperor Leopold I signed an arrangement on 12 May 1689. This treaty was justified because, The French king has lately, without any lawful cause or pretext, attacked His Imperial Majesty and the States General, by a most grievous and unjust war … there shall be not only a defensive, but also an offensive alliance between the contracting parties … they shall act in a hostile manner, with all their forces by sea and land, against the French King.80

It was added that none of the signatories would make unilateral peace with France. The English joined this pact five days later on 17 May. Spain and Savoy joined the coalition against France in 1690.81 The collective goal was to have a total of some 220,000 men in the field against France at any one time. In political terms, their objectives were threefold. First, the restoration of the borders as settled at Westphalia in 1648 and the Pyrenees in 1659, thus depriving Louis of all the gains he had made since his assumption of personal power. Second, the independence of the Duchy of Lorraine (which was continually tussling with Louis), and third, French recognition of the Protestant Succession in England. Secretly, both the English and the Dutch promised to support Leopold’s claim to the Spanish throne if the Spanish king Carlos II died without children.82 (b) The War in Europe As the Grand Alliance was being finalised, the warfare started to burn hotter and spread into what became four separate fronts in Europe. In the centre, fighting continued in the areas

around the Palatinate. In early 1689, the Rhineland went up in flames with Mannheim, Heidelberg, Trier, Worms and Speyer, all gutted. Over 100,000 refugees fled north and east, while Frankfurt and Bonn, would again change hands, while heavy fighting would continue around, the region. As this was occurring, the (40) French and (19) English naval forces would clash, with no victor, off the Southern coast of Ireland at Bantry Bay on 11 May. Meanwhile, in the Spanish Netherlands at the battle of Walcourt in late August 1689, 24,000 Frenchmen faced, and lost, to a composite opposition of 35,000 Allied troops (including Dutch, English, Spanish and German). Further action saw 50,000 Austrian troops clear away the French threat from Frankfurt and lay siege to Mainz, which fell after 52 days. Kaiserwerth and Bonn followed the same pattern as the French troops withdrew.83 As the French forces were being pushed back on the Continent, the recently exited monarch of England, James II, landed in Ireland on 12 July 1689, with 2,500 of his own men. These men, and the others who had agreed to fight for James were known as Jacobites (with the name taken from Jacobus, the Latin form of James). These first soldiers were followed by shiploads of French-provided uniforms, arms and money to help outfit an Irish army, and an additional 6,600 French soldiers to help. James saw obtaining complete control over Ireland as a stepping-stone to recovering England and Scotland. James chose Ireland as he had a high degree of support there. He added to this support by summoning a parliament in Dublin soon after he arrived. He then, inter alia, ensured that Catholics were placed in all the positions of power, and set up procedures to ensure that Irish Catholic lands, wrongfully taken (primarily the Cromwellian confiscations), were to be returned to their original owners. The Act of Settlement of 1662 was repealed and the land restored to those who had owned it before 1641 or their representatives. The Act of Attainder, in which a list of 2,400 people were charged with ‘high treason’, went one step further. Unless these people surrendered to a judge for trial, they were promised a death sentence when captured and the confiscation of all their property in the meantime. Unsurprisingly, most Protestants fled, despite promises from James that they would be safe if they pledged allegiance to him. The Parliament then passed a Declaration Act in which the independence of Ireland, even though part of the realm of James II, was affirmed.84 Less than a year after James landed in Ireland, the vast majority of the country was under Jacobite control. The exception was in the northern province of Ulster (and the city of Derry in particular) and a few other pockets such as Enniskillen. Although it had not been captured, the city of Derry (with over 30,000 in it) was besieged for 105 days, (during which a few thousand would die, albeit mostly from disease and hunger). The forces of James II were also active in Scotland. This was very evident when on 27 July 1689, Jacobite forces recorded a military victory at Killiecrankie when some 2,500 defeated a force of perhaps 5,000 men of the new Williamite government. However, a few days later, on 31 July, the Jacobites in Ireland received their first major loss after well-drilled militia emerged out of Enniskillen and attacked a larger Jacobite force, leaving perhaps 1,500 of James soldiers and supporters dead in the marshes and a further 500 taken prisoner, for only a quarter of that cost for the forces loyal to William III. On 13 August, William and his army (including Danes, Huguenots, Dutch, Brandenburgers and English) landed in Ireland, and during the following months the opponents would shadow each other. Meanwhile, in Scotland, a little over a week later, on

21August, some 5,000 Highland Jacobites made a failed attack at Dunkeld, north of Perth, leaving 300 of their own number, dead, as they retreated.85 The year of 1690 was full of blood, as the war swung in favour of France. On the continent, a major clashed occurred on 1 July at Fleurus (in the Walloon area of modern-day Belgium). Here, 45,000 French faced off against a Dutch, German and Spanish force of 37,000 men. Of the 9,000 dead and 8,000 wounded, the vast majority were the victims of the French; the Dutch and Spanish (who had been armed with pikes, not firearms) retreated. On exactly the same day in Ireland, James II and William III fought for the fate of England, Scotland and Ireland by the river Boyne in County Meath. At this small point of geography, William III drove his 36,000 men into the 23,000 of James II. Although the casualties were relatively small (about 1,000 Jacobites to 500 for William – who himself was almost killed), James lost confidence in his forces in Ireland and fled the country back to France. This decision to flee not only demoralised the Jacobite forces, it was also premature as nine days after the battle of the Boyne, on 10 July, 78 French warships achieved their greatest-ever victory over an English and Dutch force (of 56 vessels) at Beachy Head (sinking eight enemy vessels). This victory temporarily gave the French control of the English Channel and opened up the possibility of an invasion of England.86 A few weeks later, the warfare exploded into northern Italy, with the first major battle being recorded at Staffarda in mid-August when a numerically inferior (12,000) French defeated a larger (18,000) Savoy-Spanish force, killing at least 2,000 and taking a similar number prisoner. Although this allowed access to a number of Italian towns, due to overstretched supply lines, the area could not be held by the French.87 The battle season of 1691 began well for the French. In April, 46,000 of their men besieged, and took Mons, a vital fortress in the Spanish Netherlands after the tens of thousands of Spanish soldiers William III expected would help him failed to turn up. However, the French success was thwarted in Italy, where their attempt to take Cuneo in the middle of 1691 was repulsed, with Louis losing over 800 men in the attempt. The focus of the war then moved to Ireland, where, although James II had fled, his army fought on from the few strongholds in coastal cities that they held. For example, at Limerick, the Jacobites successfully defended themselves as an army of over 25,000 was smashed in their first assault (killing thousands in the process, in the greatest ever Jacobite victory in Ireland), making William’s forces retreat from the west of Ireland. However, the Williamites returned with bloody actions at Athlone (with about 500 Jacobites killed), and Aughrim (where two armies, each of about 20,000 soldiers clashed on 21 July 1691). The bloodiest battle ever in Ireland, Aughrim, left about 7,000 dead on the battlefield. The majority of the dead (about 4,000) belonged to the Jacobite army, and an equal number were either wounded or captured. The result, it is said, was more than the loss of a battle, but rather, the end of the Catholic aristocracy in Ireland.88 With these results, and the failure of relieving forces to come and help from France, the remaining Jacobites began to surrender or swap sides. This failure was disappointing to many, as the French were believed to be gaining the upper hand in the Spanish Netherlands, where they had claimed victory after massive cavalry duel at Leuze on 18 September 1691,

with between 1,500 and 2,000 dead or wounded casualties to the enemy, for only a quarter of that number for the French. Such successes, however, could not save the day in Ireland, in which the last major Jacobite stronghold in Ireland, Limerick (with 21,000 Franco-Irish forces within it) opted to surrender on 23 September, 1691. Their surrender was made much more attractive when the besieged were offered the right to leave Ireland and go to France where they could continue to serve either the exiled James II or the French King Louis XIV. Some 12,000 Irish soldiers and families took up this offer.89 The warfare continued to burn ferociously in 1692. On the diplomatic front, the big news was that the Grand Alliance had managed to break Hanover out of the previous deal it had signed with France. Now, for the promise of an upgrade from Duke to an Elector within the Holy Roman Empire, the ruler of Hanover joined the fight, providing both men and money. This decision helped to pave the pathway for the son of Duke Earnest Augustus of Hanover, George, to later become king of Britain.90 On the battlefield, the blood continued to flow. At the siege of Namur in the middle of the year, although victorious for the French (who gained the whole length of the river Sambre), it cost them 7,000 killed or wounded (as opposed to 4,000 for the defenders). The French then repeated their victory at Steenkerque (modern-day west Belgium, near the coast) in early August, when some 120,000 men (with 63,000 against the French) faced off against each other. In this engagement, the allies lost some 10,000 (dead and wounded), and the French only 8,000, before the forces of William III withdrew to their original position. Meanwhile, in the lands of France to the east, an invasion from Savoy proceeded, converging on Embrun which was captured and burnt to the ground, as the French made an orderly retreat. Although the attack on Embrun was disturbing, even worse news for Louis XIV were the naval battles of Barfleur and La Hogue in the middle of 1692. These saw 44 French vessels face off against 99 English and Dutch vessels. The French were then defeated over a six-day battle in which dense sea fog drifted across the ocean, losing 15 vessels to the English loss of two. This loss scuttled the plans for James II (who had assembled 20,000 troops) to attempt an invasion of England. It also followed the execution in early 1692, of perhaps 30 members of the MacDonald clan at Glencoe in the Scottish Highlands following the (mistaken) belief that they had not sworn allegiance to the new monarchs of William and Mary. The order for this act stated, You are hereby ordered to fall upon the rebels, the MacDonalds of Glencoe, and to put all to the sword under seventy. You are to have a special care that the old fox and his sons do upon no account escape your hands. You are to secure all the avenues that no man escape … This is the King’s special command, for the good and safety of the country, that these miscreants be cut off root and branch.91

At the battle of Landen/Neerwinden (also in present-day Belgium, east of Brussels) in the middle of the following year of 1693, some 66,000 Frenchmen, after 12 hours of bitter fighting, obtained the upper hand over 50,000 English, Scottish and Dutch troops (creating 19,000 casualties, as opposed to only 15,000 for the French). When they took the fortified area of Charleroi (in Wallonia) in October, the French were solidly established along the Meuse in a defensive line. Meanwhile in Italy, the French fought their way back to dominance, and at the battle of Marsaglia (near modern-day Turin) in early October 1693,

their army of 40,000 knocked out a Savoy-Spanish force of 36,000, leaving 10,000 dead or wounded. Despite these victories, France experienced very bad harvests, after which the country would descend into the worst periods of starvation ever known in that country.92 The year 1694 continued to see large battles as attempts at peace talks failed. In August of that year, the French bombarded (but did not capture) Brussels, destroying more than onethird of its buildings, in the most destructive act ever to befall the city. In the same period, warfare in Spain escalated. At Torroella, some 4,000 Spaniards were killed or wounded by the French in the middle of the year, thus opening the route to Barcelona. In early September 1695, 80,000 soldiers of the Grand Alliance retook the fortress of Namur after a three-month siege which was held by 14,000 Frenchmen (the French lost 6,500 men in its defence, while the allies spent 9,000 in its capture). In the same period, Munster, also, committed itself to the Grand Alliance.93 Although this was a success, all sides were reaching the point of exhaustion. This meant that the Grand Alliance did not expect anything of large-scale significance during 1696. However, Louis defied this expectation, when he made an alliance with Portugal,94 and at the end of August, 1696, the Treaty of Turin was concluded with Savoy.95 With this peace deal (and marriage alliance), Louis, accepted the loss of his two most powerful fortresses in Northern Italy and the border of France in the south-east moved to the Alps (rather than the River Po). Louis accepted this so he could have peace on that border and redeploy tens of thousands of men elsewhere as Savoy (and Italy) was now neutralised. With these extra troops at his disposal, the French pushed harder into Spain. Barcelona eventually fell in 1697 to some 32,000 French soldiers, who left 12,000 defenders either dead, wounded or lost in the process.96 (c) The War Outside Europe In North America, the understandings of the geography were beginning to change. By the late seventeenth century, French and French-Canadian explorers had established a foothold on the Mississippi River and the Gulf Coast, thus laying claim to a vast area, stretching from the Gulf of Mexico to Canada. The colonies of the other countries, in particular the English, looked dimly upon such claims, as they too had grand goals for this part of the world. When it came to actual conflict, while France dreamt of attacking New York and Boston, and the English dreamed of destroying Quebec (which was attacked, but did not fall), most of the work was done by raiding parties made up of militia-type colonists and their respective indigenous allies. In the case of New England, as the English-based forces sought to expand into Acadia (seizing Port Royal), the French linked with an Indian confederation (the Wabanaki, who expected greater sovereignty in exchange) to thwart their efforts. Others, such as the Iroquois Confederacy, joined with the colonies of New England and were urged to interrupt all trade between New France and the western tribes. This set off a tit-for-tat sequence of raids against the opposing tribes and forts, sometimes with the help of the colonial forces, sometimes not. In terms of total death toll for this area, at least 650 Anglo-

Americans were killed, and probably an equal number of their allied Iroquois. The French Canadians and their Native American allies suffered perhaps three-quarters of this estimate.97 In the Caribbean, as Spain and England were now allies (and not enemies, as previously), they had a natural dominance in the area against the French. The result was sporadic conflict in Jamaica, Martinique, and Hispaniola as settlers, buccaneers and soldiers (from the region and shipped from the Continent) took the opportunities, often in bands of men 1,000 plus in size, that presented themselves to steal from and/or destroy their neighbours. The British retook St Kitts and Anguilla early in the conflict, before attempting (but failing) to invade Guadeloupe and later Martinique, while the biggest action in the area saw some 4,000 French men as privateers in conjunction with ten ships from the French navy, raiding Spanish Cartagena in 1697, making off with great amounts of loot.98 Finally, in India, despite much rhetoric and enthusiasm for the war, action was relatively remote. The French bombarded the Anglo-Dutch fleet at Madras in 1690, and in 1693, the Dutch with 19 ships and 1,500 European troops took Pondicherry on the South Eastern coast of India from a small French garrison which defended it.99 (d) The Peace of Ryswick By October 1696, both France and the Grand Alliance were financially, socially and militarily exhausted. Accordingly they finally sat down to see if they could find a pathway to peace. This was eventually found, and the treaty that ended the killing was unveiled 11 months later, on 20 September 1697. The peace was made in a series of agreements collectively known as the Treaty/Peace of Ryswick. At this point, three treaties were signed by France with Britain, the United Provinces, and Spain. In so doing, they all promised each other, ‘universal and perpetual peace and a true and sincere friendship’.100 Further arrangements making peace between the Holy Roman Empire and France were then attached at the end of October 1687.101 The Spanish king restored the few parts of French territory that he possessed, and, for the most part, France restored her conquests in Spain (including Catalonia with its prize jewel of Barcelona), as well as many in the Spanish Netherlands, including Mons and Courtrai in the Low Countries. Spanish Luxembourg was also returned. However, a list was created of many (but not all, with 82 sites excluded) of the districts and towns which Louis had occupied and ‘reunited’ since the 1678 Treaty of Ryswick ‘which shall remain absolute and for ever the property of His Catholic majesty’.102 With the Holy Roman Emperor, France restored many of the territories it had recently taken, and the Emperor acted in a reciprocal way. Accordingly, the Duchy of Lorraine was restored (although the French retained the right to march through the area if needed), as were the partially occupied territories of the Elector of Trier, and the Elector of Brandenburg. Louis also gave way over the dynastic claims pertaining to the Palatinate and Cologne. However, some of the listed areas Louis obtained in the Reunion wars were allowed to stay within the French realm, with Strasbourg being ceded to France. Conversely, the Emperor

regained Freiburg, Breisach and Philippsburg. Therefore, the Peace of Ryswick set the boundary of France at the Rhine. Within the territories which had changed hands, if the Catholic religion had been reintroduced, it was allowed to stay. Brandenburg was particularly aggrieved, receiving no territorial compensation or even the arrears of the subsidies due to her (from the Emperor). With the United Provinces, the surrender by the French to the Spaniards of much of their territory in the Netherlands did not satisfy the Dutch desire for a secure southern frontier with France. For this, the Dutch acquired the French ‘Barrier’ (fort) system in the Spanish Netherlands, which was paid for by others, but which the Dutch had a right to occupy. Although the actual ‘barrier’ was not concluded in the Peace of Ryswick, the Dutch were permitted to garrison a number of cities, including Namur and Yprès. The Dutch also had a return to favourable commercial considerations with regard to trade in (non-contraband) goods, due to the reversion of the previous trade agreement with France.103 William III achieved his primary war aim, as he was recognised by France as the legitimate monarch of England, Scotland and Ireland. Although James II was not explicitly mentioned (after earlier being denied the chance to represent Britain as its ‘rightful king’104 during the peace negotiations), Louis XIV ‘promise[d], for himself and his successors, not to trouble or disturb in any way the King of Great Britain in the possession of his sovereignty, not to aid, either directly or indirectly, any of his enemies’.105 In addition, the principality of Orange was restored to William III.106 In their associated colonies, territories taken during the war were returned to their original owners. Accordingly, the French regained Pondicherry in India and de jure recognition of their ownership of half of the island of Hispaniola. In North America, the boundaries of New France, New England and New York reverted to their original shape, prior to the conflict. In addition, there was to be a mutual inquiry into their overlapping claims into the Hudson Bay territory. However, in the case of the Native American tribes, a separate pathway was followed. The core of this was the 1701 Great Peace of Montreal between the French and the Iroquois to end their hostilities and the latter to remain neutral in future conflicts. At the same time, 30 different indigenous groupings agreed that, in the future, they would turn to New France (not New England) to help peacefully resolve their inter-indigenous disputes.107

7.

The War of Spanish Succession

The War of Spanish Succession was responsible for a massive amount of death and mayhem. From all causes related to the conflict, ranging from killed in action through to diseases in transit, the British and the Dutch lost 250,000 citizens. The Holy Roman Empire and Denmark lost about 100,000. Portugal and Savoy, maybe 50,000 each, while France lost a whopping 500,000 to 600,000 of its own people. No figures exist for the losses of Bavaria and Spain, but estimates suggest a combined figure of, perhaps, 100,000. In short, probably well over 1 million people died in this dispute, which began barely five years after the conclusion of the Nine Years War.108

(a) The Plan to Avoid the War The one, overwhelmingly critical question that was not settled in the 1697 Peace of Ryswick was simply, who should inherit Spain when the King of Spain, Carlos II, died? This question was pressing as he was the last male descendent of Emperor Charles V and had failed to produce his own children. The options were either that Spain be divided or be passed on complete to one of his extended family. If it was the latter option, the choices were twofold. One of his sisters, Maria Theresa, had married Louis XIV of France (who in turn had produced a dauphin, and that son, a further male – Philip, the grandson of Louis XIV). Or, Carlos’s other sister, Margaret Theresa, who had married the Emperor, Leopold I. Their daughter married Maximilian II of Bavaria, by whom she had a son – Joseph, the grandson of Leopold I.109 Despite the simplicity of the two options, the consequences of each choice was monumental. If the Spanish Empire was not divided, one recipient country was about to receive an unprecedented windfall of territory and power. The risk, as the 1698 First Partition Treaty (between England, France and the United Provinces) on point explained, was of, ‘a new war in Europe’ due to ‘disputes and differences that might arise on the … succession [of Carlos II of Spain] or by reason of the umbrage from too many dominions being united under one prince’.110 To avert this risk, a treaty with a proposed partition of Spain was drawn up in advance, as the original one of 1668111 was no longer considered fit for purpose. It envisaged that Joseph, who had slightly closer dynastic claims than Philip, but was not directly tied to any great power, would inherit the kingdom of Spain, but large chunks of it (especially in Italy) would be carved off to satisfy French expectations.112 The problem was that Spain was not part of the discussions and hated the idea of dividing up the realm. The Austrian-Habsburgs, also excluded, felt the same, and finally, and most importantly, the young Joseph died prematurely in early 1699. This sequence of events led to a Second Partition Treaty. Signed in late March 1700, this was still between France, England the United Provinces, and the Austrians were more engaged (but not signatories). The core of the second-partition treaty was swapping Archduke Charles (the son of Leopold I, and future Emperor Charles VI) as the recipient of the Spanish Crown, in place of the now-deceased Joseph. In exchange, France would get a large slice of territory, but this would go to semiindependent others. Once more, Spain hated the idea of a divided realm, but with the Second Partition Treaty, Austria was not opposed to the division in principle, although the particular division proposed was not to their liking. Accordingly, Emperor Leopold did not fully commit. This ‘wait and see’ approach was further justified as he was expecting a good outcome in the will of Carlos II, being confident that the wife of the Spanish king, MariaAnna (the sister-in-law to Leopold), would help conclude an ending that would satisfy the Austrian Habsburgs.113 Amongst all of the ink and bad-feeling, as Carlos II was entering his final days, envoys from Rome appeared. They seemed to have pushed aside his German wife and persuaded the dying king of Spain, to sign a new (third, and final) will. The Last Testament of Carlos II was well aware of the ‘fear of the consequences for Spain which might ensue from union with the

Crown of France’. Nonetheless, the wish of the dying king was that the realm he possessed was not broken up. He also feared that if the Austrians got hold of it, they could be distracted by affairs in central Europe and not give it the attention it needed. Accordingly, he decided to: [A]ppoint as our successor, the Duc d’Anjou, second son of the Dauphin [Philip, the grandson of the French King Louis XIV] and we now name him heir to all Our Realms and all Our Domains without any exception whatever.114

Carlos added that the new ruler had to reside in Madrid, thus making rule from Paris a physical impossibility. With these last words, Carlos II passed, at the age of 39, on 1 November 1700. The thinking of the Papacy, which was probably the instrumental consideration in this sudden turn of events, appears to have been that although both the French and the Austrian claimants were Catholic, both were a risk to Papal territories in Italy, but the French, were a smaller risk. The specific chance that presented itself to the Papacy was that Pope Innocent XII, who had great difficulties with the French King, had recently died, and that a new relationship with Louis XIV could now be forged with the new Pope, Clement XI.115 (b) The Slide to War This conclusion shocked Europe to the core. Louis, after time for a little consideration, decided to disregard the Second Partition Treaty and rather, ‘accepted the will of the late King of Spain’.116 The French king did this as it was the most incredible opportunity to augment the power and prestige of both his Bourbon dynasty and the two countries, as they would become combined in everything but name. It would also end the historic problem of Habsburg encirclement, on two borders at the same time. Conversely, the AustrianHabsburgs felt they had been completely cheated and were ready to fight over the matter. England and the United Provinces, while not liking the outcome, did not believe that it was, at this point, worth going to war over, hoping that some diplomatic solutions could be found to soften the outcome.117 This situation changed, and war became inevitable when Louis took four unexpected steps. First, in December 1700 he registered a decree in the Parlement of Paris that Philip, now the new monarch of Spain (as Philip V), remained eligible for succession to the French throne. Thus, the possibility of, in the future, one king ruling over both Spain and France became very real. Second, Louis obtained from Philip an order that French troops, rather than Dutch, should garrison the fortresses of the Spanish Netherlands. This was in contravention of the agreement that the Dutch had reached an agreement with Carlos II in 1698 to station Dutch troops in ten fortresses within the Spanish Netherlands as a way of guaranteeing the security of the Republic. With Carlos gone, Louis was quick to occupy these fortresses, saying he would hold them until the new Philip V dealt with the situation and replaced the men with Spanish soldiers. This exit (albeit, peacefully) on 4 February 1701, of 15,000 Dutch soldiers,

meant that most of the Meuse defences, including Mons, Namur and Venlo (but not Maastricht) surrendered without a fight. Although this was all done without bloodshed, from the perspective of William III who was in charge of both England and the United Provinces, this extreme outrage removed the major line of defence for the United Provinces and was contrary to the Peace of Ryswick.118 Third, Louis began to mobilise and build new alliances. In addition to having Spain with Philip V on his side, the new relationship with Portugal was linked into an alliance with Spain, which the three countries unveiled in early 1701.119 Further alliances were then added with the Duke of Savoy (who was the father in law to Philip V), the Elector of Bavaria (who was torn between support for his nephew Philip V or support for his father-in-law, Emperor Leopold), the Archbishop of Cologne and associated Papal states in Italy. Louis also had, perhaps, 80,000 mercenaries (Swiss, Irish, German, Italian and Walloon) at his disposal and provided funds and resources to dissident rebels in Hungary (to fight Leopold on his eastern frontier). He was also busy mobilising his allies in the Low Countries, on the lower Rhine and Italy. This was particularly noticeable in the latter, where the Duchies of Milan and Mantua in northern Italy, the key to Austria’s southern border, both accepted French-Savoy garrisons in February 1701.120 The fourth and final step which made war inevitable was that Philip V allowed his grandfather to move French troops to entire Spanish controlled Duchies in Northern Italy. This was particularly provocative as Italy, as both the Bourbons and Habsburgs knew, was of great geopolitical importance. It was, in short, highly desirable to both belligerents, and the Habsburgs believed they had primary claims in this area. The importance of Italy was such that it was there, on 19 June, across the Adige river, that the first shots were recorded in the War of Spanish Succession. These shots followed Emperor Leopold, without even declaring war, marching an army into northern Italy to try to occupy Milan, an Imperial fief, which, in his view, had reverted to him on the death of Carlos II, irrespective of the will of the late Spanish king. The tensions came to a head a few weeks later as the Imperial army marched towards Milan at Carpi on 9 July 1701. Although it was largely a technical battle, (as 17,000 Habsburgs somewhat brilliantly marched around to the back of 11,000 French) the blood of a few hundred soldiers was enough to make the war real. The conflict then escalated to large scale bloodshed at Chiari in early September, when 22,000 Habsburgs defeated 38,000 French, with some 4,000 casualties. Although the French then fell back, they retreated into, and entrenched, Milan, rather than abandoning it.121 (c) The Treaty of the Hague It was in response to these problems that on 7 September 1701, Leopold I, as the Holy Roman Emperor, signed with William III (as King of England and Stadholder of the United Province) the Treaty of the Hague. This was the foundation of the second Grand Alliance against France.122 This second Grand Alliance was an updated version of the first Grand Alliance which had

operated during the Nine Years War and was built on the renewed alliances in 1698 and 1700, between Britain, the United Provinces, Sweden and Denmark. Although Sweden and Denmark were linked to this group by treaties in June and October of 1701, both initially distanced themselves from the fighting core, as they were now fighting each other in northern Europe. That meant that this Grand Alliance was primarily a relationship between the Emperor, the United Provinces, and England. Of the latter, as the English King William III died (8 March 1702), Queen Anne seamlessly took over the reins and committed to the same goals as William, promising to, ‘exert all our energies, to the end that we may vindicate the common liberty of Europe against the immoderate power of the French’.123 The Palatinate, Munster, Hesse-Cassel, Baden and some smaller powers also joined the cause. Brunswick signed on to provide 10,000 men. Hanover, with its Elector George, with a sense of what was about to happen in England (and him to become its King George I), was especially keen to sign up to fight France. Brandenburg-Prussia, which was now raised to a kingdom to entice it to join the fight, signed on in late January 1702, and quickly provided the 5,000 men it had promised to fight against the French.124 The 1701 Treaty of the Hague promised a, ‘constant, perpetual and inviolable friendship’125 between the signatories, that was determined to confront the problem of how the Frenchman Philip V had, ‘usurped the possession of the entire inheritance, or Spanish monarchy’.126 It was also designed to confront the problem of Spanish and French forces invading the Spanish Low Countries, the Duchy of Milan, and the threat of them fitting out naval vessels for an attack on the West Indies. Against this threat, while it was agreed that peace was to be decided collectively (and not unilaterally), a number of unique war aims were set down. First, the Treaty of the Hague was clear that Spain had to be kept independent of France. This was necessary to avoid what the Dutch called ‘the spectre of Louis XIV’s universal monarchy’.127 These considerations were reflected in Article VIII which stated that, [t]he kingdoms of France and Spain [shall] never be united or come under the government of the same person, nor that the same person may ever be King of both kingdoms.

Of the larger question of whom, then, should sit on the throne of Spain if the allies were victorious, although the preamble of the treaty pointed in one direction, the body of the treaty did not refer to who should sit on the throne of Spain. This omission was because Britain and the United Provinces were as cautious about a reborn Habsburg empire, as an expanded Bourbon one.128 Related to the above point, in terms of spoils, although no king was named for the Spain about to be conquered (nor the ownership of Spain proper), Leopold made clear that in terms of territory, he expected to gain Naples, Sicily and Milan. Conversely, and as part of the vision of what a divided Spanish realm might look like, Article 6 of the 1701 Treaty of the Hague added that if Britain or the United Provinces: can conquer by force of arms … the countries and towns which the Spaniards have in the Indies, all that they can seize there will be for them and will remain theirs.129

The next significant goal was securing ‘the Provinces of the Spanish Netherlands, so that they may serve as a like rampart and barrier to separate and keep France at a distance from the United Provinces’.130 This point, about a ‘Barrier’ was of such importance that both the United Provinces and Britain subsequently pledged their commitment to achieving such an outcome (in terms of land to be taken, forts to be built, their military occupation, and how they were to be paid for) in the final settlement with France, in a separate bilateral treaty.131 The final goal of note in the 1701 Treaty of the Hague pertained to the Protestant succession in Britain, which was, in essence, a reflection of the Peace of Ryswick. It was also a reflection of the English 1701 Act of Settlement, which had passed a few months earlier, on 12 June. This document, which could foresee the death of King William, and the omission of an heir from him and his wife Mary, planned succession in advance to go to the next in line by Protestant faith, not by dynastic position. The next in line was Anne, the sister of Mary. As Anne had just lost her last surviving child, it was foreseeable that she too, could pass without children. Accordingly, the legislation stated that if this was the case, then the crown was to pass to Sophia, Electress of Hanover and granddaughter of James I.132 While this goal of upholding the Act of Succession and the Peace of Ryswick should have been straightforward enough, the death of the exiled James II on 16 September 1701 (one week after the Treaty of the Hague was signed) had Louis insisting that James III (the son of James II) was the rightful king of England. This last act was an extreme provocation to the English, who disliked the French king even more, for his insistence on telling them who their king should be.133 (d) The Killing Although killing had already begun Austria, Britain and the United Provinces only declared war against France on 15 May 1702. This conflict would then start to spread all around the world. Outside of Europe it would include North America (where it was known as ‘Queen Anne’s War’) and the Caribbean (including the Bahamas, St Christopher/Kitts, Nevis, Jamaica, Antigua and Montserrat). In each of these areas the fighting was often vicious as indigenous allies (although some wisely stayed clear), colonists, brigands and the few available soldiers would raid, murder, steal and conduct reprisals against each other. Although these subsidiary scraps were nasty conflicts, the numbers killed were only in their thousands (as opposed to the tens of thousands in Europe) with many more being killed by disease rather than gunpowder in these remote regions.134 In Europe, soon after the declaration of war, an Anglo-Dutch army began the process of trying to collect the outlying posts on the Rhine and the Meuse held by the allies of Louis. This was largely successful, and between July and October 1702, John Churchill, the Duke Marlborough (who directed most of the western campaigns against Louis) managed to force the French out of the territories of Cleves and Cologne, between the Rhine and the lower Maas. He then went on to capture the major fortresses of Venloo, Ruremond, Stevensweet and Liege. His success ensured that Louis could not follow the invasion plan for the United

Provinces he had used in 1672. At the same time, imperial troops succeeded in capturing the French fortress of Landau, which was to change hands repeatedly in the following years. Meanwhile, the French tried to stir rebellion in Hungary, with their financial support for Francis Rakoczi, which slowly grew over the following years.135 While the tit-for-tat territorial changes were important, of far greater significance was the diplomatic change that occurred in the middle of May 1703, when Portugal abandoned their 1701 alliance with France and joined the Grand Alliance, instead. This happened after an Anglo-Dutch attack on Cadiz in September 1702, and then, a month later, at Vigo Bay. It was the latter, when an entire French fleet and many supporting Spanish vessels were completely routed (losing 17 ships out of 24, and up to 2,500 men), that the King of Portugal, Peter II, swapped sides. Aside the military risks of facing the British and Dutch navies, Peter II realised that the commercial treaty he was also offered, made the military alliance with Britain and the United Provinces, for, ‘the liberty of Spain, for averting the common danger of all Europe, and for defending the right of … the house of Austria to the Spanish monarchy’136 quite attractive. This was especially so when the secret articles of the alliance promised Portugal a cache of new towns from whatever could be taken from Spain.137 On the other side of the ledger, in Lombardy, Italy, 26,000 Habsburg troops faced 30,000 soldiers from France and Savoy at Luzzara in the middle of August 1702. Although this battle was essentially a draw, with both sides losing a few thousand men, there was neither retreat, nor any significant advances. However, in the following month, the Bavarian allies of Louis captured Ulm (by stealth) in early September. At the battle of Friedlingen on the Upper Rhine in the middle of October, some 17,000 French soldiers trumped the 14,000 of the Imperial Forces, killing perhaps 3,000 of them. The Bavarians then occupied Lauingen, Dillingen and Memmingen, as they moved towards Augsburg and Munich. The fear at this point was that the French and Bavarians forces would link up, and together, advance on Vienna. The year 1703 saw a reversal of fortunes for the Anglo-Dutch forces. Although they captured Rheinberg, Bonn, Huy, and two fortresses situated between the Meuse and the Rhine, their plan to occupy Antwerp was crushed at Ekeren at the end of June 1703, when the Dutch army of 10,000 fought a French opposition nearly four times larger. The Dutch not only lost a third of their men, they also lost the hope that the Spanish Netherlands could be retaken easily. This feeling was reinforced in early July at Bergen op Zoom, when an Allied army faced a French force of 40,000 soldiers. Although four times their size, both sides suffered the same number of casualties (2,000 each). A few months later, in September 1703, at the battle of Hochstadt on the banks of the Danube in Bavaria, the Imperial forces of 20,000 men were completely overwhelmed by the 35,000 French and Bavarians, who killed, wounded or took prisoner more than half their opposition. In December, they took Augsburg, and a month later, Passau and Lintz. With such progress, many expected Vienna to be under siege in the following year. The only relief for Emperor Leopold was that Savoy decided to change sides and fight for the Grand Alliance. This was agreed with the Emperor in 1703, when the Duke of Savoy was promised substantial territorial gains from the Duchy of Milan.138

Despite the achievements at the end of 1703, at the beginning of 1704, there was a real fear that Leopold would break from the Grand Alliance and accept a separate peace with France. Accordingly, it became essential to reduce the pressure on Vienna. The first success was achieved in a sequence of battles in the Low Countries and along the Rhine and Danube, before the Duke of Marlborough with the Margrave of Baden and Prince Eugene of Savoy, defeated French and Bavarian forces at Schellenberg (in early July, 1704). Although this victory cost 5,000 casualties for the English led allies, they killed 6,000 and captured a further 2,000 out of a total enemy force of 15,000 in the space of two hours. The follow-up saw the allied armies then rampage through Bavaria, before the opposing sides of a collective 110,000 men met again, most famously, at Blenheim (on the banks of the Danube, close to the German village of that name) on 13 August 1704. This battle, which lasted for seven hours and sprawled over a six-kilometre front, turned the entire war as it recorded a large defeat for the French and Bavarians, albeit still at a large cost to the allies. For example, at Blenheim, a British brigade of 2,400 soldiers lost a third of its men to a single French volley. In total the allies had 4,542 killed and just under 8,000 wounded, while the opposition had between 35,000 and 40,000 killed, wounded, or captured. The French, with the loss of so many men, their artillery, and even their commander, were stunned, but not as much as the Bavarians. When their wounded and prisoners were added to the total, Bavaria had lost over one-half of its force as dead, wounded or prisoners. These losses were so significant that Bavaria was knocked out of the war. They, in essence, surrendered with the Treaty or Ilbersheim, signed (with Austria) in early November 1704. The terms involved their areas becoming subject to military occupation until the final peace settlement (which was reached in 1714, with the Treaty of Baden).139 The other hope that the French cherished would be fruitful for them in 1704 was that Philip V finally entered the war that was all about him. Officially, Spain declared war because the Portuguese had betrayed their recent peace, and ‘Archduke Charles of Austria’ was willing to fight, for, ‘Our [Spanish] Throne and … all the rightful possessions of this Our Crown’.140 Philip V was not wrong in his assumptions about Charles. Emperor Leopold I wanted his son to have the crown that was sitting on top of Philip’s head, and for his son to be known as Charles III of Spain.141 The hopeful Habsburg arrived in Lisbon in March 1704, with plans to invade Spain at the head of an Anglo-Portuguese army at the same time the first French troops arrived in Spain, with the opposite aim of a Franco-Spanish offensive to drive Charles out of Lisbon. This offensive failed to get far, held in check by the summer heat and the opposing forces. Spanish hopes then turned to disbelief when, in early August, 1,800 English and Dutch achieved the spectacular, and captured the vital strategic possession of Gibraltar (for the loss of less than 100 men) after the Spanish garrison of 550 men accepted an honourable surrender. When the Spanish realised what had happened, they threw everything they (and the French) had into the recovery of Gibraltar in the Battle of Malaga in the same month. Over 6,000 men would die, as the two sides, each with over 50 naval warships slugged it out for seven hours, without any serious attempt at manoeuvre. However, the British and Dutch fleet could not be defeated and the French and Spanish opposition ran out

of ammunition first. ‘The Rock’, thereafter, would remain in the hands of Britain.142 Allied prospects for 1705 looked much brighter than they had been the year before. Although Emperor Leopold died in this year on 5 May, his son (and next Emperor) Joseph I carried on his father’s anti-Bourbon dream. Despite the new enthusiasm, the year was not remembered for spectacular large-scale battles, although at the Battle of Elixheim in midJuly, the allies armies successfully broke through French defensive lines, but were unable to take advantage of their win; 3,000 Frenchmen were dead on the landscape.143 Greater potential in 1705 for the allies appeared to be in Spain, following the Treaty of Alliance between Britain and Catalonia,144 which was concluded in June 1705. With this, the British promised to land a force of 8,000 foot and 2,000 horse soldiers, to expel the French from the region, who would then link up, and be under the direction, of the Archduke Charles. It was added that, once liberated, the Catalonians would have to recognise Charles as the King of Spain. Success quickly followed and Barcelona fell to Archduke Charles in October 1705, followed by Valencia soon after, which rose in opposition to Philip V.145 Only in northern Italy in 1705, was the military balance still favouring the French, as was shown at Cassano when their force of 22,000 men defeated a slightly larger force of 24,000 Habsburg and Prussian troops. Although the French suffered heavier losses (about 5,000 killed, wounded or captured), they still won the day on the battlefield, forcing the enemy to retreat. The large-scale battles in the Spanish Netherlands resumed in 1706. At the battle of Ramillies on 23 May, over 120,000 men faced each other north of Namur, in what is modernday Belgium. Here, English, Danish and Dutch forces, fighting along a battle line that was four miles long, won the day with what included probably the most spectacular cavalry action in all military history. This time, the French-Bavarian army was shattered, (losing 12,000 as dead, wounded and missing, while the Grand Alliance force lost, perhaps, 4,000). The result was that entire provinces of the Spanish Netherlands was quickly reoccupied (with Antwerp and Ostend falling back into allied hands without a shot being fired), and France was forced back to its traditional, but very well-defended, borders. A few months later, in northern Italy, after initially winning a battle at Calcinato in April, the French forces who had tried to capture Turin (from June to September) suffered a further significant loss, when an Imperial/Savoy force broke the siege and decimated the attackers (killing or capturing nearly 30,000 for just over 8,000 of their own). This loss in Italy was so significant that was what left of the French field army retreated across the Alps. They were only allowed to retreat without harassment when they ceded control of Milan and Mantua to Austria. In the same period, the Anglo-Portuguese invasion of Spain proceeded, during which King Philip V fled Madrid, fearing it would fall (it did not) and he could be trapped.146 In 1707, many of the battlefields in western Europe were in stalemate. The main exception for this year, where the major fighting occurred in Spain, at the battle of Almanza in April. At this point some 25,000 Spanish-French troops trumped the 15,000 allies (English, Dutch, Portuguese, and French Huguenots) killing or wounding 4,000 of them, and taking a further 5,000 prisoner. This loss pushed the allied forces back into Catalonia and Portugal and secured the bulk of the peninsula for Philip V. However, as this slipped back

into Spanish possession, Minorca slipped out, for the price of relatively little bloodshed. The result was that with Minorca and Gibraltar, the allies now held control of the western Mediterranean.147 (e) The Grand Alliance Begins to Get the Upper Hand The year of 1708 was a disaster for the French. Their bad news began in March when JamesStuart, the Old Pretender, attempted his first landing in Britain. However, this was a fiasco, as the Jacobites failed to rise and his force (of 5,000 supplementary French soldiers) failed to land, with one vessel being captured, and its leaders sentenced to death for treason. The comedy in Britain was then followed by the tragedy that occurred at Oudenaarde (south of Gent, East Flanders) on 11 July 1708. Here, two massive armies, both around 80,000 men collided, in what was probably the biggest battle of the war. Once more, the French came off worse (losing perhaps 20,000 as casualties, while the Grand Alliance lost only about 5,000, but the future King of England, George II was almost killed). The result was that northern France was now open to the allies, and the next target, Lille, was quickly surrounded, besieged, and, despite the fact that it was supposed to be impervious to attack, surrendered at the end of the year. Gent and Bruges, also, capitulated without a fight as the French forces retreated homewards. Meanwhile in Italy, Sardinia, an important base on the sea route to Catalonia, was captured by an English squadron. Finally, the uprising in Hungary as led by Francis Rakoczi, was crushed at the Battle of Trencin. The few defeated rebels who survived disappeared into the landscape.148 (f) Louis XIV Refuses to Buckle Against this background, everyone expected Louis would sue for peace in 1709, and preliminary articles to a general peace were drafted and set down at the end of May.149 Not only was the French king facing a sequence of military defeats with the enemy getting very close to France, even the next Pope, Clement XI – despite his organisation being responsible for the change in the will for the Spanish succession which triggered the entire war in the first place – agreed to name Archduke Charles (not Philip V) as the rightful king of Spain. The Pope did this because the Imperial army had, by this point, conquered most of northern Italy and was threatening that Rome and Papal territory could be reclassified as imperial fiefs. Undeterred, Louis would not accept the peace terms offered to him. The primary reason for this refusal was very personal, namely, ‘since I must go on fighting, I would rather it was against my enemies than my grandson’.150 As Louis refused to make peace, the allies continued to advance. They took the strong city of Tournai in early September, before turning to Mons, soon afterwards. It was en-route to their next objective that the French intercepted them, at Malplaquet on 11 September 1709. This saw over 150,000 men facing each other, spread over ten square miles in possibly the

bloodiest battle in Europe in the eighteenth century. Although the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene of Savoy (with the Dutch making up the majority of the allies) had a slight numerical advantage, they could not break through into the heart of France. The allies suffered the greater losses (6,500 killed, 14,000 wounded, 4,000 missing or prisoners) than the French (4,500 killed and 8,000 wounded). This situation showed that France’s willingness, and ability, to continue the fight was far from extinguished.151 Although the advance into France stopped, the advance into Spain did not, and in 1710, this is where most of the hard fighting was recorded. Specifically, Archduke Charles took Saragossa on 20 August, when some 30,000 Austrian-led troops defeated 20,000 Spanish (killing or wounding 6,000 and taking a further 7,000 prisoner). Although this victory allowed Charles to enter Madrid in 1710, the situation was deemed dangerous and he and his forces withdrew, especially as Louis pumped more French soldiers into that battle theatre. As the British forces were retreating back to Barcelona, at Brihuega on 8 December 1710, they were set upon and mauled (600 killed and 3,400 surrendered). A few days later on 11 December, the larger retreating army of Charles, with perhaps 14,000 men, was attacked by a Spanish-French force of 20,000 men. Although both sides lost about the same number of soldiers, the retreat continued. By the end of 1710, Barcelona was one of the few Spanish areas still in Charles’ hands.152 Archduke Charles left Spain in the autumn of 1711 to take up the crown of the Austrian Habsburgs, as Emperor Charles VI, after his elder brother Joseph died, vacating that throne. Once back in Vienna, while mourning the loss of Spain, he could look with satisfaction upon the recently concluded Treaty of Szatmar, which finally brought peace with the Hungarian rebels (with promises of much administrative autonomy, tax immunity for the nobles and religious privileges), and thus ended this conflicts in the east of his realm.153 It was from this point, in 1712, that renewed attempts to make peace began. All the belligerents were economically, politically and militarily exhausted. A strong anti-war party developed in Britain, which argued that they had wrongfully ended up at the front of a conflict which was not in their interests. The Dutch were the next to come to the table after the battle of Denain in northern France on 19 August 1712, from which Britain abstained (as an armistice between France and Britain, to which Spain and Portugal were folded in soon after, had been agreed).154 At this battle it became clear to the Dutch that a knock-out blow (despite having a combined Dutch-Austrian force of 120,000 men) was impossible, as although the French were clearly on the defensive and suffering, their 100,000 defenders still won on the battlefield (causing 6,500 casualties of which about 4,000 were taken prisoner). (g) The 1713 Treaties of Utrecht This stout defence resulted in United Provinces and France adding to the bilateral armistice between Britain and France in late August 1712. As a gesture towards peace, Philip V publically proclaimed that, ‘it shall henceforth never come within the realms of possibility for this Crown to be wed with that of France’ to which the Spanish king renounced, ‘in Our

own Name and in that of all Our descendants, all rights to the French throne’.155 This promise thus made it possible to begin to defeat one of the original concerns (that the Crowns of France and Spain could be joined) which had been a primary catalyst for the entire conflict. Agreement about an armistice between Savoy and France, and then, also, for France in Italy, in addition to an evacuation of Catalonia, followed a little later, being concluded in March, 1713, as the overall peace process was reaching its conclusion.156 After seven months of talking, on 11 April 1713, the first of the 11 parts of the Treaties of Utrecht was unveiled, thus bringing the War of Spanish Succession to an end. The foundation Utrecht document was the peace between France and Britain. Supplementary Utrecht treaties involved, inter alia, those between Spain and the United Provinces, Spain and Portugal, and Spain and Britain. Additional Utrecht treaties covered commerce and navigation.157 The following discussion is taken from the foundation peace at Utrecht, that between France and Britain. This document ended what the preamble of the first treaty called, ‘a most grievous war, which for so many years has laid desolate almost the whole Christian world with blood and slaughter … long inflamed with the rage and fury of arms’. The peace that followed was a compromise and reflected the military reality on the battlefields. There was no unconditional victory, so there was no dictating of terms from a victor to a loser. Nonetheless, they all hoped for ‘a Christian universal peace, and a perpetual and true friendship’158 going forward. Article II of the foundation treaty was a type of admission of guilt, and also a pathway to advance down. This explained that the cause of the war and the ‘almost infinite slaughter’ was ‘because of the great danger which threatened the liberty and safety of all Europe, from the too close conjunction of the kingdoms of Spain and France’. Accordingly, it was agreed that: [T]he kingdoms of Spain and France should never come and be united under the same dominion, and that one and the same person should never become King of both kingdoms.159

Elaborate letters patent by the monarchies and nobility of both France and Spain, both renouncing their dynastic claims to the royal heritages in the country of the other, followed.This meant that although Philip V was recognised as the King of Spain (and thus France achieved one of its primary objectives of having a Bourbon on the throne of Spain), he was compelled, and France had to mirror, the promise that the French and Spanish thrones would never be joined, or linked via dynastic claims. Accordingly, the overwhelming threat of a very powerful monarch upon the continent of Europe, via the fusing of Spain and France, was denied, thus a balance of power between the superpowers was maintained.160 Britain obtained one of its key goals of the conflict when Philip V (and Louis XIV) promised, that he (and his successors) would respect the ‘succession … preserved according to the laws of Great Britain’, mentioning the late William III, and heirs in the Protestant line of Hanover, and: [T]hat no person besides the said Queen [Anne], and her successors, according to the order … established by the laws and statutes of Great Britain, shall ever be acknowledged or reputed by him, or by his heirs and successors, to be King or Queen of Great Britain.161

Louis also promised that he would not, [D]isturb or molest the said Queen of Great Britain [Anne], her heirs and successors, of the Protestant line, as aforesaid, being in possession of the crown of Great Britain, and the [associated] dominions.162

In terms of the exchange of territory, in North America, France ceded to Britain its claims to Newfoundland, Acadia (to become Nova Scotia) and the area around Hudson Bay. They retained Cape Breton Island and some other areas in the Gulf of Saint Lawrence, which were of high value for fishing purposes.163 Peace was also bestowed with many (but not all) of the indigenous tribes in North America which had ended up as proxies in the conflict, with English suzerainty becoming increasingly dominant in this area. While this peace was relatively clear with the Iroquois confederacy (roughly, within today’s north-eastern United States) in other areas, such as with Tuscarora tribe which fought the colonists in the Carolinas (between 1711 and 1713, in which over 330 soldiers, civilians and Native American auxiliaries were killed, so too were about 1,400 Tuscaroras, with a further 1,000 enslaved), fleeing the area was their only hope of salvation.164 In the Caribbean, all of Saint Christopher (which had previously been partitioned) was ceded and renamed as St Kitts, completely, to Britain. However, the other French colonies in this part of the world remained part of Louis’s realm.165 With Prussia, France ceded Upper-Guelders (with a provision that the Catholic religion be tolerated) while Prussia transferred to France its claims on the Principality of Orange. One last piece of territory of note, Dunkirk in France, although not handed over, was to be demilitarised. For Spain, Philip V would retain most of its heartland and its overseas empire. The expectation was that the rebellious Catalonia would continue to ‘enjoy the entire possession of all their estates and honours, but should also have their ancient privileges preserved safe and untouched’.166 In reality, this promise came to nothing as the region, despite the peace settlement at Utrecht, following the safe and guaranteed peaceful exit of the foreign forces, continued to resist the power of Philip V. Their decision to continue to fight was a disaster. Barcelona fell, surrendering on 14 September 1714, after a four-month siege and the loss of 6,000 lives. Although it was envisaged that Catalonia would remain part of Spain, the same was not true for Gibraltar and Minorca. Here, although there were side promises (that people of Jewish or Moor descent were not allowed to reside, and the Catholic faith had to be allowed to be practiced therein) there was no cession of sovereignty. Specifically, Philip V agreed to yield: [F]or himself, his heirs and successors, … to the Crown of Great Britain the full and entire propriety of the town and castle of Gibraltar, together with the port, fortifications, and forts thereunto belonging; and he gives up the said propriety to be held and enjoyed absolutely with all manner of right for ever, without any exception or impediment whatsoever.167

Minorca was ceded in the same manner.168 The other piece of territory of note that Philip gave up (and Louis XIV concurred) was,

‘the kingdom of Sicily to his Royal Highness Victor Amadeus Duke of Savoy’.169 In exchange, Savoy ceded to France the valley of Barcelonette. The Duke of Savoy also gained Exilles, Fenestrelle and some other parts towards the Alps. In addition, elsewhere in Italy, the Papal States lost their suzerainty over the Duchies of Parma and Piacenzain, in favour of Austria. In no instance was the view of the papacy sought over what to do. The papacy, for all effective purposes, was excluded from the peace treaties that unfolded. The overall result was that Austrian influence over much of Italy became greatly enhanced.170 In terms of commerce, a ‘free use of navigation and commerce between the subjects of each kingdom, as it was heretofore, in time of peace, and before the declaration of this late war’171 was the rule agreed. For France and Britain, via a supplementary commerce treaty, this was upgraded to what is known in contemporary terms as a ‘most favoured nation’ basis, whereby trade should be at least as good as the most beneficial trade agreement they have with any others.172 A similar approach was included in the relationship between Britain and the Austrian Netherlands.173 The exception to this free-trade thinking was with French (and others) trade to the Spanish West Indies, which was prohibited; and with the sale of slaves, in which Britain took the royal monopoly (the ‘assiento’) from Spain, for a period of 30 years, by which they were granted the exclusive right to provide about 4,800 slaves per year to the Spanish colonies. This taking of the Asiento trade was something Louis had partly acquired in 1701.174 With the 1713 treaty between France and the United Provinces, a treaty of most-favoured nation trade commerce for 25 years was agreed, and the United Provinces agreed to return Lille. In exchange, the primary reward for the Dutch was the creation of the ‘Barrier’. To this deal (which eclipsed the earlier bilateral one of 1709 with Britain), France ceded in their treaty with the United Provinces, in favour of Austria, 12 parts of the French Netherlands, including, inter alia, Menin, Tournai, Gent, Knocke and Yprès. The goal was to have the Barrier forts manned by Dutch soldiers, but paid for by Austria. The problem at this stage of the negotiations was what Austria was willing to concede, as the allies were splintering in their objectives (and Austria was continuing to fight). While broad goals on the Barrier could be agreed between France, Spain and the United Provinces, the details involving Austria could not.175 With regard to Portugal, France agreed to give up all claims to the territories around Guiana, and accepted that both banks, and the river within the Amazon belonged to Portugal. They also had one of their areas in Uruguay, which had been taken by Spain, returned. A little later, on 6 February, Spain ceded San Sacramento to Portugal, and the peace of 1688 between the two countries was fully restored.176 (h) The 1714 Treaties of Rastatt and Baden The new Holy Roman Emperor, Charles VI, did not initially want peace. Having seen a failed campaign in Spain in his attempt to unseat Philip V, back in Vienna, and having now made peace with the rebels in Hungary, he (and a few loyal German nobles) decided to continue the

war against both France and Spain, even if this meant fighting without his former primary allies of Britain, the United Provinces and Portugal who had all made peace at Utrecht. Accordingly, Charles redeployed troops from within his realm to create a new concentration to the upper Rhine, opposing his enemies from France. However, without their original allies or their supporting subsidies, Charles found his forces (at about 60,000 men) about one-third the size of the opposing French forces. This difference became obvious when, in August 1713, the French recaptured Landau. In the next month they broke through the defence lines in the Black Forest, forcing Freiburg to capitulate by November. At this point, as the remaining German nobles started to announce they could not continue to fight for the Emperor, Charles decided to agree to peace talks.177 The Treaty of Rastatt settled the peace between the French and the Habsburgs/Austria on March 7, 1714.178 The second treaty, signed on the same day, was that of Baden. This ended the hostilities between France and the wider Holy Roman Empire. The foundation of both was the prima facie acceptance of the earlier treaties of peace of Westphalia, Nijmegen and Ryswick. With the Treaty of Baden, Charles VI agreed to the Utrecht arrangements, finally accepting that Philip V was the King of Spain, and renounced his own claims to the throne. In exchange, France yielded all her possessions on the right bank of the Rhine, including Breisach, Kehl and Freiburg, which were to go to the Emperor and the House of Austria. France also accepted the electoral dignity of the House of Hanover. Landau and Alsace stayed with France, but the Electors of Bavaria and Cologne were returned to their territories. The interests of the Emperor in the Italian lands of Naples, Milan, Sardinia and Tuscany were to be respected by France, while the Emperor promised to leave the Italian princes undisturbed in what they held. However, Charles refused to recognise Victor Amadeus as King of Sicily (as promised at Utrecht).179 On the question of the ‘southern’ Netherlands, Charles VI agreed in the Treaty of Rastatt, that, although these barrier forts were in ‘his’ territory, that the (reduced number) of forts/barriers (including Namur, Tournai, Menin and Yprès) would remain as a barrier to French aggression, seven of these would be manned by Dutch soldiers alone, while the eighth would be manned by an Austro-Dutch garrison. The agreement was then refined in 1715 (and again in 1718), with Charles agreeing to pay (via local taxes) three-fifths of the cost of the 35,000 soldiers manning the Barrier forts.180

8.

Conclusion

Louis XIV was a king of war. Of the 54 years he would rule France, his country would be involved in fighting others for 32 of them. He was the premier example of monarchy and how it can both justify and cause war against others around him, irrespective of their religious faith. In his time, he fought Spain, the United Provinces, England and the Holy Roman Empire repeatedly, in which each conflict blended into the next, with peace and treaties appearing more like commas, than full-stops. Louis was driven by goals of glory, revenge and honour (for both himself, his family, and

his dynasty). He was a brilliant strategist on the battlefield and remarkably astute in diplomacy, in the way that he could create webs of alliances, tied together by both subsidies and sometimes marriage arrangements, to help bolster his forces when necessary. There was no hint of fighting wars about social or constitutional considerations. The first major war with Spain was about entitlements over an unpaid dowry. With the Dutch, he could go to war with them because of his ego, their religion, and their commercial success. He would niggle others, making use of ambiguities and gaps in treaties, to claim even more territory, and provoke conflict if necessary. At each level, and in each decade, the wars would become larger in scale (in terms of killing), complexity of diplomatic arrangements and the geography over which they were fought, reaching many distant corners of the planet. The last two conflicts, that of the Nine Years War and the War of Spanish Succession were simply based around considerations that only a monarch could imagine worth fighting for. For the former, the cause of the conflict was the patterns of Louis in the decade going up to 1688, during which many of his neighbours had become increasingly distrustful of him. Their linkages into alliance helped provoke him, although the factor that turned the next killing into a truly world war was when England went (via military invasion) from the rule of James II, to William III. This was a cataclysmic change. While Louis had maintained good relationships with Charles II and then James II, he had an extremely poor relationship with the successor to the throne of England, William III, who with his linkages to the United Provinces, was able to direct the coalitions that would repeatedly fight France. In all these conflicts, from 1655 to 1714, France was never destroyed. Every peace was a negotiation, not a dictated settlement by the victors. Only the smaller nations and entities that were linked to France (or the other superpowers) risked extinction. The only chance of survival lay in finding the strongest player on the field and seeing what promises of better dynastic opportunities could be offered.

1 The death toll for France alone was put at 200,000 by Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 42. 2 See the 1650 Treaty of Alliance between the King of Spain and the Duchess of Longueville, as in 2 Consolidated Treaty Series at 71. Also, with the Prince of Orange, 2 CTS 383; and the Prince of Conti, 2 CTS 411; and with Lorraine, 3 CTS 489. 3 See the 1651 Treaty between the French King and the Duke of Bouillon, as at 2 CTS 291. 4 The French treaty with the Swiss is at 2 CTS 79, and 3 CTS 83. 5 The French treaty with the Portuguese is at 3 CTS 489. 6 The French treaty with the English is at 4 CTS 1. 7 See the Accession of the Netherlands to the Treaty between England and France, at 4 CTS 83. 8 See pages 287–290. 9 The 1658 Defensive and Offensive Alliance between Hungary, Bohemia and Brandenburg, as in 4 CTS 499. The Rhine Alliance, with, inter alia, Cologne, Munster, Bremen, Hesse-Cassel, and the Palatinate, as in 5 CTS 141. 10 The treaty of Peace between France and the Palatinate, 4 CTS 155. 11 See the 1658 Treaty between France and the Princes of the Rhine. 5 CTS 169. For the 1660 reiterations, see 6 CTS

175 and 6 CTS 211. Also, Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 156–58; Lynn, J. (2002). The French Wars 1667–1714. (Osprey, London). 15–16. 12 Article XLII of the 1659 Treaty of the Pyrenees. This is reprinted in Axelrod, A (ed.) Encyclopedia of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I: 50. 13 Gantet, C (2004). ‘Peace Ceremonies and Respect for Authority: The Res Publica, 1648–1660’. French History 18(3): 275–90. 14 Maria Theresa of Spain should not be confused with the latter Maria Theresa of Austria. The contract of marriage for Maria Theresa is in 5 CTS 403. 15 See art. 33 of the treaty. For comment, see Nussbaum, F (1953). The Triumph of Science and Reason, 1660–1685. (Harper, NYC). 156–57. 16 For the French relationship with Sweden, see the 1661 treaty in 6 CTS 469, and for the United Provinces, 7 CTS at 139. That with Switzerland in 1664 is at 8 CTS 1; Brandenburg 8 CTS at 81, and Saxony, 8 CTS 107. 17 Louis’s Manifesto to Spain at the start of the War of Devolution. This is reprinted in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 465 18 Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 195; Carsten, F (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 210. 19 See the 1667 Convention between France and the Netherlands, as at 10 CTS 59. 20 Lynn, J. (2002). The French Wars 1667–1714. (Osprey, London). 35; Childs, J. (2001). Warfare in the Seventeenth Century. (Cassel, London). 164, 211. 21 The Treaty of Peace Between Portugal and Spain is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 157. 22 The 1668 Treaty of Alliance between England, the Netherlands and Sweden is at 10 CTS 409. 23 The 1668 Secret Agreement between Saxony, Brandenburg, Brunswick-Hanover, and Hesse-Cassel, as at 18 CTS 313. 24 See the 1669 Treaty of Guaranty of all the States of Spain, concluded between England, Sweden and the United Provinces. This is reprinted in Davenport, ibid, II: 166. The link between the Dutch and the Swedes from two years earlier, is in the same volume at 110. 25 The Peace of Aix-La-Chapelle, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 153. 26 The 1668 Treaty of Peace and Friendship between France and Austria, as in 10 CTS 385. 27 This quote is from the preamble of the 1668 First Treaty for the Partition of the Spanish Dominions between France and Austria. This is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 143. 28 Art. III, ibid. 29 Louis, as in Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 109. See also pp 30–31. Also, Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 89. 30 The Dutch envoy, as noted in Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 270. Also, Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, London). 129; Jones, J (1996). The Anglo-Dutch Wars of the Seventeenth Century. (Longman, London). 179–83. 31 See the Secret Alliance between France and Brandenburg, as in 11 CTS 281. 32 The 1670 Treaty of Dover is at 11 CTS 295, and that from Whitehall, in the same volume at 429. See also Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 177. 33 Hutton, R (1986). ‘The Making of the Secret Treaty of Dover, 1688–1670’. The Historical Journal 29(2): 297–318; Carsten, F. (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 292. 34 See the 1672 Renewal of Alliance between France and Sweden. This is in 12 CTS 195.

35 See the treaties with Brunswick at 12 CTS 31; Munster is 12 CTS 167; and Cologne 12 CTS 87. 36 The 1671 Treaty between France and the Empire is reprinted in 12 Consolidated Treaty Index, 31. Boxer, C (1969). ‘Some Second Thoughts on the Third Anglo-Dutch War’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 19: 67–94. 37 See the 1672 Treaty of Alliance between England and France at 12 CTS 151. The Union of Interests is in the same volume at 353. 38 Charles, as in Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 18. 39 See the 1672 treaty of Peace Between England and the United Provinces. This is in Chambers, G (1790). A Collection of Treaties Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Stockdale, London). Volume I: 172. Glickman, G (2013). ‘Christian Reunion, the Anglo-French Alliance and the English Catholic Imagination, 1660–72’. The English Historical Review 128(531): 263–91. 40 Although returned after the conflict, it was taken again in 1682, before finally becoming a clear part of France in the 1713 Treaty of Utrecht. 41 See the Treaty of Mutual Assistance between Brandenburg and the Netherlands. This is in 12 CTI 307. 42 The 1673 Treaty between Sweden and the United Provinces. This is reprinted in Davenport, ibid, II: 206. See also; Rowen, H (1954). ‘John de Witt and the Triple Alliance’. The Journal of Modern History. 26(1): 1–14. 43 Art. 3 of the Treaty between the United Provinces and Spain. This is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). II: 222. 44 See the 1672 Defensive Alliance between the Empire and the Netherlands. 12 CTI. 363. 45 The Treaty of Peace with Munster is in 13 CTI 141, and that with Cologne, in the same volume at 167. 46 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 47. 47 Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 119. 48 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 375–76; Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, London). 208–16. 49 See Carsten, F. (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 219. 50 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 377; Ede-Borrett, S (2003). ‘Casualties in the Anglo-Dutch Brigade at the Battle of Saint Denis, August 1678’. Journal of the Society for Army Historical Research 81: 278–81. 51 The Peace of Nijmegen, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 155. The figures are from Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 47. Also, Trout, A (1968). ‘The Proclamation of the Treaty of Nijmegen’. French Historical Studies. 5(4): 477–81. 52 The Treaty of Peace Between France and the United Provinces, 1678. This is reprinted in Axelrod, A (ed.) Encyclopedia of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I:54. The commerce treaty is on the same page. Seward, D (2013). 5 The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 90–91. 53 The Treaty of Peace Between France and Spain, 1678. This is reprinted in Axelrod, ibid, I: 55. The marriage contract is in 15 CTI 205. 54 The Peace between the Emperor and the King of France, 1679. This is reprinted in Axelrod, ibid, I: 56. 55 See the Treaty of Peace between France and Sweden and Brandenburg. This is in 15 CTI 179. 56 The Peace Between France, Sweden and Denmark is in 15 CTI 219. 57 The 1679 Treaty of Peace between Sweden and Denmark is in 15 CTI 245; Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, London). 213; 58 McCluskey, P (2011). ‘Louis XIV’s Quest for Legitimacy in Lorraine, 1670–97’. The English Historical Review. 126 (523): 1386–407. 59 Leibniz, as in Riley P (ed.) Leibniz: Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1996). 140. 60 Art. 2 of the Treaty of Defensive Alliance between England and Spain. This is reprinted in in Davenport, F (ed.)

European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929): II: 266. 61 See the Treaty between France and Brandenburg, 1681. This is reprinted in Davenport, ibid, II: 275. 62 Also, Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 168. 63 The 1681 Treaty between Sweden and the Netherlands, as reprinted in 16 CTS 133. 64 The 1681 Defensive Alliance between France and Brandenburg is in 16 CTS 63. The Denmark linkage is in the same volume at 169. 65 The 1682 Alliance between the Emperor and the Circles of Franconia and the Upper Rhine is reprinted in 16 CTS 219. 66 The 1682 Alliance update is in Davenport, ibid. II: 280. See also Place, R (1977). ‘Bavaria and the Collapse of Louis XIV’s German Policy, 1687–1688’. The Journal of Modern History 49(3): 370–93; Wines, R (1967). ‘The Imperial Circles, Princely Diplomacy and Imperial Reform’. The Journal of Modern History. 39(1): 1–29. 67 The Treaty of Defensive Alliance between France and Savoy is in 16 CTI 281. The linkage to Cologne is in the same volume at 479. The Contract of Marriage between Savoy and France is in 17 CTS 33. 68 Nussbaum, F (1953). The Triumph of Science and Reason, 1660–1685. 174–77; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 270–71; Carsten, F. (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). Volume V. 207. 69 Place, R (1970). ‘The Self Deception of the Strong: France on the Eve of the War of the League of Augsburg’. French Historical Studies. 6(4): 459–73. 70 Louis, as in Wolf, J (1951). The Emergence of the Great Powers, 1685–1715. (Harper, NYC). 41. For the issue around the Edict of Nantes, see pages 332–334. 71 ‘The French King’s Memorial to the Emperor of Germany’. This is reprinted in Ranum, P (ed.) The Century of Louis XIV. (Harper, NYC). 281, 282. Also, Thompson, A (2009). ‘After Westphalia: Remodelling a Religious Foreign Policy’. In Onnekink, D (ed.) War and Religion after Westphalia. (Ashgate, Ashford). 57. 72 The 1686 Alliance between the Emperor, Spain, Sweden, the Bavarian, Franconian and Swabian Circles, the princes of the Upper Rhine and Saxony. 18 CTS 21. 73 The Secret Alliance between the Empire and Brandenburg is in 17 CTS 471. 74 See the Treaty of Alliance between Brandenburg and the Netherlands, as in 18 CTS 237. The Declarations are also in 18 CTS 291. 75 Louis, as in Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, London). 171. Also, Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). IV: 224–25. 76 ‘The Emperor’s Reply to the French King’s Manifesto’. This is reprinted in Ranum, P (ed.) The Century of Louis XIV. (Harper, NYC). 281, 295. Also, Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, London). 140, 168. 77 Wines, R (1967). ‘The Imperial Circles, Princely Diplomacy and Imperial Reform, 1681–1714’. The Journal of Modern History 39(1): 1–29. 78 This neutrality was built upon the Altona treaty of 1689, as found at 18 CTS 407. This ended all conflict between the two of them, to which the English and the Dutch were guarantors. This relationship was then deepened with a series of overlapping treaties of alliance and commerce. See the Defensive Treaty between Denmark and Sweden, 19 CTS 25. 79 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 48. 80 Article 2 of the 1689 Offensive and Defensive Alliance between the Netherlands and the Emperor. This is reprinted in 18 CTS 367. 81 See the Treaty of Alliance between Spain and Savoy, and that with the Emperor, in 19 CTS 59 and 67. 82 Kampmann, C (2012). ‘The English Crisis: Emperor Leopold and the Origins of the Dutch Intervention in 1688’. The Historical Journal. 55(2): 521–32; Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 305–8, 332–35, 339; Pincus, S (2009). 1688: The First Modern Revolution. (Yale University Press, London). 123; Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 147; Symcox, G (1976). ‘Louis XIV and the Outbreak of the Nine Years War’. In Hatton, R (ed.) Louis XIV and Europe. (London, Palgrave). 179–221; Storrs, C (1992). ‘Amadeus II and the making of the Anglo-Savoy Alliance of 1690’. European History Quarterly. 22(3): 347–81; McJimsey,

R (1991). ‘English Politics and the Nine-year War’. Albion 23(1): 61–74. 83 See Simms, J (2000). Jacobite Ireland. (Four Court Press, Dublin). 115–19; Perceval, M (1991). ‘Ireland and the Monarch in the Early Stuart Multiple Kingdom’. The Historical Journal. 34(2): 279–95. 84 The Declaratory Act, 1689, is reprinted in Curtis, E (ed.) Irish Historical Documents. (Methuen, London, 1943). 169; Simms, J (2000). Jacobite Ireland. (Four Court Press, Dublin). 53–57, 82–85, 87; Miller, J (1977). ‘The Earl of Tyrconnel and James II’s Irish Policy, 1685–1688’. The Historical Journal 20(4): 803–23; Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). IV: 214. 85 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 53. 86 McGarry, S (2013). Irish Brigades Abroad. (History Press, Dublin). 51–54, 60–61; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 381, 382. 87 Also, Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 171; Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Rise of Great Britain and Russia. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1970). VI: 239 88 Geraghty, T (1998). The Irish War. (Harper, London). 254. 89 Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 148; Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 82; Simms, J (2000). Jacobite Ireland. (Four Court Press, Dublin). 150–53, 200–29. 90 See the 1692 Treaty between England, the United Provinces and Brunswick-Hanover. 20 CTS 65. Also, Hatton, R (2001) George I. (Yale University Press, London). 84. 91 The order of 12 February 1692 is reprinted in Prebble, J (1968). Glencoe: The Story of a Massacre (Penguin, London). 203. See also, Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 154–55; Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 226–29; Bromley, J. (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Rise of Great Britain and Russia. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1970). VI: 245. 92 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 48; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 386, 387. 93 See the 1695 Convention between the Emperor, England, the United Provinces and Munster. This is reprinted in 21 CTS 1. 94 The Treaty of Alliance between France and Portugal is in 21 CTS 129. 95 The Treaty of Peace between France and Turin, as in 21 CTS 191. The Contract of Marriage is in the same volume, at 173. 96 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopaedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 68; Lenihan, P (2011). ‘Namur Citadel, 1695: A Case Study in Allied Siege Tactics’. War in History. 18(3): 282–303; Rowlands, G (2000). ‘Louis XIV, Vittorio Amedeo II and the French Military Failure in Italy, 1689–1696’. The English Historical Review. 115(462): 534–69. Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 206–9; Clark, G (1954). ‘The Character of the Nine Years War, 1688–1697’. Cambridge Historical Journal. 11(2): 168–88. 97 Pulsipher, J (2007). ‘Indian Sovereignty and the Coming of King William’s War in New England’. The New England Quarterly. 80(4): 588–613; Mclay, K (2006). ‘Wellsprings of a World War’. The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History. 34(2): 155–75; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London).14–17. 98 Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 23, 91; Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 260–61; Morgan, W (1930). ‘The British West Indies During King William’s War’. The Journal of Modern History. 2(3): 378–409. 99 Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Harlow). 262. 100 Article 1, of the peace between Britain and France, as reprinted in Axelrod, A. (ed.) Encyclopedia of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I: 59. Copies are also available at 21 CTS 347. 101 See the Treaty of Peace between the Empire and France, as at 22 CTS 5. 102 Article 10 of the French and Spanish Treaty from Ryswick, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 169. 103 The Treaty of Peace Between France and the United Provinces. This is reprinted in Axelrod, ibid, I: 62. 104 Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 208–09.

105 Article 4 of the French and English Treaty of Peace from Ryswick, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 170. Also, Schweizer, K (1997). ‘Jacobitism and British Foreign Policy’. The European Legacy. 2(5): 849–53. 106 Note, with the death of William III, without children, this area would, via the Treaty of Utrecht a few years later, end up as part of France. 107 Brandao, J (1996). ‘The Treaties of 1701: A Triumph of Iroquois Diplomacy’. Ethnohistory. 43(2): 209–44 108 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 73. cf. White, M (2011). Atrocitology: Humanity’s 100 Deadliest Achievements. (Text, Melbourne). 249; Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, London). 195. 109 Troost, W (2018). ‘Leopold I, Louis XIV, William III and the Origins of the War of the Spanish Succession’. History 103(357) 545–70. 110 Article 2 of the 1698 Treaty between England, France and Holland. This is reprinted in A Complete Collection of All the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Ulan Press, California). 19. The proposed second partition treaty is in the same volume, at 33. 111 See page 45. 112 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 69; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 272; Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 387, 394–95. 113 Olivan, L (2018). ‘The Diplomacies of Motherhood during the Last Years of Carlos II’s Reign’. The Court Historian 23(2): 198–214; Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 158–59; Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 124–25. 114 ‘The Will of Carlos II’, as in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 1. 115 Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 351. 116 ‘Letter from Louis XIV Accepting the Spanish Crown on Behalf of his Grandson’, as reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 5–6. 117 Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 107. 118 Troost, W (2018). ‘Leopold I, Louis XIV, William III and the Origins of the War of the Spanish Succession’. History. 103(357): 545–70; Lynn, J (2002). The French Wars 1667–1714. (Osprey, London). 36–39; Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 269. 119 See the Treaty of Alliance between Spain, Portugal and France, as in 23 CTS 137. France and Portugal had reconciled the year earlier in 1700. See 22 CTS 463. 120 The alliances with Cologne, Savoy and Bavaria are in 23 Consolidated Treaty Series at 201, 213, 261 and 293. See also, Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, London). 180–83. 121 Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 157, 407, 410. 122 The Second Grand Alliance between the Emperor, England and the United Provinces is found at 24 CTS 11. 123 Anne, as in Spencer, C (2004). Blenheim: Battle for Europe. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 94. 124 See for example the ‘Treaty for Assistance in the War of Spanish Succession, between the Emperor and Prussia’. This is reprinted in is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). III: 88. The Treaty between England, the United Provinces and Prussia is at 24 CTS 85. For the accession of the German areas, the same CTS volume, at 97, 123, 227. 125 Preamble, of the Second Grand Alliance, between Leopold I, Great Britain and the United Provinces. This is reprinted in A Complete Collection of All the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Ulan Press, California). 42. 126 Preamble, ibid. 127 The French Declaration, also in Bromley, ibid. 157.

128 Frey, L (1978). ‘A Question of Empire: Leopold I and the War of Spanish Succession, 1701–1705’. Austrian History Yearbook. 14: 56–73; Thomson, M (1954). ‘Louis XIV and the Origins of the War of the Spanish Succession’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 4:111–34. 129 Ibid, art 6. 130 This version of art 5 of the 1701 Grand Alliance, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 173. 131 See the 1709 Treaty Between Britain and the United Provinces for a Barrier Against France. This is reprinted in A Complete Collection of All the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Ulan Press, California). 62. 132 The 1701 Act of Settlement is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 475. 133 Hatton, R (2001) George I. (Yale University Press, London). 86; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688– 1783. (Pearson, London) 34–35; Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 40. 134 Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 500–5; Crane, V (1919). ‘The Southern Frontier in Queen Anne’s War’. The American Historical Review. 24(3): 379–95. 135 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC) 180–81. 136 This quote is from the preamble of the 1703 Treaty of Alliance Between Portugal, Britain and the United Provinces. This is reprinted in A Complete Collection of All the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Ulan Press, California). 51. 137 See the 1703 Treaty of Commerce Between Britain and Portugal. This is reprinted in A Complete Collection of All the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Ulan Press, California). 61. Also, see Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 275–79; Francis, D (1960). ‘John Methuen and the Anglo-Portuguese Treaties of 1703’. The Historical Journal. 3(2): 103–24; Gillespie, J (1944). ‘The Venerable AngloPortuguese Treaty’. The Social Studies. 35(2): 65–70. 138 See the 1703 Treaty of Alliance between the Emperor and Savoy, as in 24 CTS 48 and 25 CTS 87; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 178–79. 139 The 1704 Treaty between the Emperor and Bavaria is in 25 CTS 173. See also, Spencer, C (2004). Blenheim: Battle for Europe. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 125–27, 232, 240–41, 295–303; Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Essex). 288–93; Hattendorf, J (1983). ‘English Grand Strategy and the Blenheim Campaign of 1704’. The International History Review. 5(1): 3–19. 140 ‘Philip V Declares War on the Allies’, as reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 19 141 See the 1703 Treaty between Emperor Leopold I and Charles III of Spain Concerning the Installation of the Latter as Spanish Monarch. CTS Supp. Vol 1, No 32. 142 The Terms of the Surrender of Gibraltar are reprinted in Hargreaves, ibid. 24–25. See generally, Willis, B (2004). ‘Fleet Performance and Capability in the Eighteenth-century Royal Navy’. War in History. 11(4): 373–92 143 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 73. 144 Treaty of Alliance between Britain and Catalonia, as at 25 CTS 263. 145 See, ‘Barcelona Rises for Archduke Charles’, as reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700– 1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 26. 146 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 179; Ostwald, J (2000). ‘The ‘Decisive’ Battle of Ramillies, 1706’. The Journal of Military History. 64(3): 649–77. 147 Paolettie, C (2006). ‘Prince Eugene of Savoy and the Toulon Expedition of 1707’. The Journal of Military History. 70(4): 939–62; Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 215, 240. 148 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 30–32; Hobelt, L (2006). ‘The Impact of the Rakoczi Rebellion on Habsburg Strategy’. War in History. 13(1): 2–15; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 399, 402; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC).

186–92; 149 See the Preliminary Articles for Peace between Britain, the Holy Roman Empire, the Netherlands and France, as in 26 Consolidated Treaty Series 317. 150 This quote from Louis is in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 466. See also, Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 352; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 183. 151 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 73; Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 112; Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667– 1714. (Pearson, Essex). 309–11, 316, 330–35. 152 Phillips, C (2011). ‘The Allied Occupation of Madrid in 1710: A Turning Point’. Bulletin for Spanish and Portuguese Historical Studies. 35(1): 15–29. Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 440–41. 153 See the Treaty between Hungary and Transylvania, as in 27 CTS 87. Also, Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 169, 172. 154 See the Suspension of Arms Between France and Britain, as in 27 CTS 305, and 335. 155 See Philip V’s Renunciation of Rights to the French Thrones, as reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 45–46. 156 The Armistice between Savoy and France is in 27 Consolidated Treaty Series 405. That for Italy and Catalonia is in the same volume, at 409. Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 263, 359. 157 The peace agreements that followed that between France and Britain, are all in is Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). III: 215– 52. They can also be found in 28 CTS 37, 123, 123, 141, 169. 158 This quote is from art. I of the 1713 Treaty comes from is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 66. For the negotiations, see Storrs, C (2013). ‘Hows Wars End’. Cuadernos de Historia Moderna. 38:77–99; Beeuwkes, P (2008). ‘The Utrecht Negotiations in Perspective: The Hope of Happiness for the World’. International Negotiation. 13(2): 157–77.; Hill, B (1973). ‘Oxford, Bolingbroke and the Peace of Utrecht’. The Historical Journal. 16(2):241–63; Trevelyan, G (1934). ‘The Jersey Period of the Negotiations Leading to the Peace of Utrecht’. The English Historical Review. 49 (193): 100–5. 159 This quote of art II of the 1713 Treaty comes from is reprinted in Jenkinson, ibid, II: 43. The corresponding art. VI for the peace between France and Britain is in Jenkinson, at 5–6. 160 Dhondt, F (2011). ‘The Legal Transformation of the Spanish Succession, 1659–1713’. Journal of the History of International Law. 13(2): 347–75; Black, J (1983). ‘The Theory of the Balance of Power in the First Half of the Eighteenth Century’. Review of International Studies. 55–61. 161 This quote is from art. V of the 1713 Treaty of Peace between Spain and Britain. It is reprinted in Jenkinson at 68. The corresponding art. V for the peace between France and Britain is in Jenkinson at 6. 162 This quote is from art. VI of the 1713 Treaty of Peace between Spain and Britain, as in Jenkinson at 68. 163 See arts X–XIII for the peace between France and Britain, as in Jenkinson at 34–35. 164 Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 12; Miquelon, D (2001). ‘Envisioning the French Empire: Utrecht, 1711–1713’. French Historical Studies. 24(4): 653–77; Ghere, D (2001). ‘Searching for Justice on the Maine Frontier’. American Indian Quarterly. 25(3): 378–99. 165 Miquelon, D (2010). ‘What Diplomatic Archives Reveal About Article 15 of the Treaty of Utrecht’. William and Mary Quarterly. 67(3): 459–86. 166 This quote is from art. XIII of the 1713 Treaty of Peace between Spain and Britain. It is reprinted Jenkinson at 74. 167 This quote is from art. X of the 1713 Treaty of Peace between Spain and Britain. It is reprinted in Jenkinson at 71. Also, Malenovsky, J (2013). ‘300 Years of the Treaty of Utrecht and the Unsolved Puzzle of the International Law Status of Gibraltar’. Mezinárodní Vztahy. 48(1): 5–26. 168 See art. XI of the 1713 Treaty of Peace between Spain and Britain. It is reprinted in Jenkinson at 72. 169 See art. XVI of the 1713 Treaty of Peace between Spain and Britain. It is reprinted in Jenkinson at 74. Also, the

Cession of Sicily by Spain to Savoy, as in 28 CTS 197. 170 Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 353. 171 See art. VIII of the 1713 Treaty of Peace between Spain and Britain. It is reprinted in Jenkinson, ibid, 68. Note also art. IX. 172 The 1713 Treaty of Navigation and Commerce between Britain and France; and also with Spain. These are reprinted in A Complete Collection of All the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Ulan Press, California). 142 and 190. See also, Doohwan, A (2010). ‘The Anglo-French Treaty of Commerce of 1713’. History of European Ideas. 36(2): 167–80; Hyland, P (1999). ‘A Breach of the Peace: The Controversy Over the Ninth Article of the Treaty of Utrecht’. Journal for Eighteenth Century Studies. 22(1): 51–66. 173 See Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 144, 173. 174 For the 1701 deal between Spain and France, see the ‘Adjustment to the Asiento’, as reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). III: 39. For the final settlement, see art. XII of the 1713 Treaty of Peace between Spain and Britain. It is reprinted in Jenkinson, ibid, 73. For the additional treaty on the slave trade, see the ‘Asiento for Allowing the Subjects of Great Britain the Liberty of Importing Negroes into Spanish America’. This is reprinted in A Complete Collection of All the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Ulan Press, California). 83. 175 See the 1713 Peace, and then treaty of Navigation and Commerce between France and the United Provinces, are at 28 CTS 37 and 83. 176 The 1713 Treaty of Peace and Amity between France and Portugal is at 27 CTS 169. That between Spain and Portugal is in the same series, 29: 201. 177 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 186; Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 472– 73. 178 The 1714 Treaty of Peace between the Emperor and France, as at 29 CTS 1. 179 The 1714 Treaty of Baden, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 183–84. Also, Black, J (1990). ‘On the Old System and the Diplomatic Revolution of the Eighteenth Century’. The International History Review. 12(2): 301, 304. 180 See Chambers, G (1790). A Collection of Treaties Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Stockdale, London). I: 209. See also Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 222–23.

IV The Interregnum 1.

Introduction

T

the last global conflict (the War of Spanish Succession) to the next one (that of Austrian Succession) was a little under three decades. This period, the interregnum, was one in which war and its causes continued to be determined in accordance with the needs and desires of monarchs. War was not about abstract principles. War (or peace) was about dynasties, to which considerations of succession (and associated entitlements) began to bud in the 1720s, before coming to full flower in the 1730s in a bewildering collection of public and secret treaties, as new alliances were forged, discarded, and then remodelled. Of particular note in this period, France and Austria reconciled, and the relationship between Spain and France became tight. Conversely others, like the United Provinces, tried to drift towards neutrality and Britain tried to stay away from general European engagements. However, this trend was short-lived, as the decade showed the impossibility of the major powers not to get drawn into faraway conflicts. Moreover the peace treaties which were weak, duplicitous and temporary, became worthless pieces of paper which could not stop the forthcoming major conflict. HE PERIOD BETWEEN

2.

Succession and Dynastic Considerations

In the immediate years after the war of Spanish Succession, most of Europe settled down. This suited countries which were tired of the conflict and needed peace to bed in a new generation of rulers. With each of these new situations, the question of succession became pivotal, and in some cases became the root of future conflicts, decades away. (a) The Pragmatic Sanction and the Habsburg Succession The conflict that would dominate the middle of the eighteenth century, that of the Austrian Succession, had as its starting point, a question over legitimacy of rulers. In the case of the Habsburgs, this debate began with Emperor Charles VI. Charles, who had spent the first part

of his life fighting over the Spanish Succession was set to spend the rest of it (from the time of his accession as Emperor in October 1711) working on the Austrian Succession. Before Charles, his father, Emperor Leopold I, had laid out the plan in 1703 that if the male line of either of his sons died out, the male line of the other son should, ‘always have precedence before all female [descendants]’.1 If this was not possible, then a sequence of daughters from his sons was laid out. Charles reversed the succession plan as he had only two children who survived to adulthood, both of whom were female. The goal of Charles was known as the Pragmatic Sanction, a constitutional amendment which was agreed on 19 April 1713. Simply, if he was to have no male descendants, then rather than the Habsburg Empire going to other male descendants in the family as set out in 1703, then, ‘this hereditary right to all Kingdoms and Lands undivided devolves on the daughters of His Imperial Majesty’.2 The second part of the Pragmatic Sanction was that any of the females from the line of Charles, were, contrary to the goal set out in 1703, to trump the females from either the side of his father or his brother. He deemed this necessary as although Charles was currently without children when this was drafted, there was a surplus of females in the Viennese court (two of them, Maria Josepha and Maria Amalia, the nieces of Charles, would go on to marry the rulers of Bavaria and Saxony). To this largess of dynastic females, Charles would add his own, Maria Theresa, who would become the ultimate beneficiary of his plan in 1717.3 Charles would then spend the rest of his life collecting promises and commitments from dozens of different types of leaders, to serve the goal of the Pragmatic Sanction. He pursued this quest in advance of his own death, so an undivided Habsburg realm could then go to his daughter, and not his nieces or anyone else. (b) British Succession The Austrian Habsburgs were not the only ones obsessed with succession issues. In Britain, Queen Anne died on 1 August 1714. Via the 1701 Act of Settlement, the next Protestant with royal blood in line was Sophia, the Electress of Hanover and granddaughter of James I. With the further refinement of the Regency Act of 1705 and the Succession to the Crown Act of 1707, the process was made clear that as Sophia had now passed, the following in sequence who was a Protestant, was her son, George.4 The transition of power to George was not an easy task. George was born in Hanover, and carried all the titles, as prince-Elector, that went with his birth prior to his time in Britain. He did not speak the English language and had no desire to learn it. He was prone to meddle in European affairs (due to his Hanover connections) and was a Lutheran, who conformed only nominally to the Anglican Church. He was never popular in a country which he did not particularly love. However, he did hold the two key criteria for the job as set out in the Act of Settlement: he was not Catholic and, in terms of dynastic sequence, he was the first Protestant in line. These considerations meant that, in the eyes of the English Parliament, his application trumped over 50 other nobles who were closer to Anne by primogeniture. However, all these other applicants were excluded from ultimate rule due to their Catholicism and the 1701 Act

of Settlement. A peaceful transition was not a foregone conclusion. The death of Anne was preceded by social mayhem (from which the 1714 Riot Act was created, as rebellious uprisings and tumults were, ‘endangering His Majesties person and the government’).5 These riots escalated to some of the most anxious days in English history. Just before the death of the Queen, a wave of political intrigue almost led to the creation of a Jacobite ministry which would have resulted in the restoration of the Stuart monarchy.6 A second Stuart restoration was only narrowly avoided when it was clear that James Francis Stewart (‘the Old Pretender’ to his enemies or James III to his supporters), and son of the exiled James II, would not convert to the Protestant faith to sit on the British throne. To ensure that the Crown would go to a Protestant, and not a Catholic, the last act of state of Queen Anne was to place power in the hands of a noble who was not sympathetic to the Stuart cause. From there, the 127 regents were assembled who proclaimed, ‘with one voice and consent of tongue and heart’ that George of Hanover would become, ‘our lawful and rightful liege’.7 With the discreet support of Louis XIV (who was on his death bed and forgot his promises at Utrecht not to interfere in Britain) James Francis was allowed to organise a military force for an attempted invasion of the British Isles. Although Louis died on 5 September, military standards began to rise in Scotland, but not in Ireland. Support was strongest in Scotland because the Stuarts were a Scottish dynasty, and Catholicism continued to exist in some areas. From these events the government responded with legislative urgency, such as suspending the Habeas Corpus Act and fighting, or recruiting for, the Jacobite cause became a capital offence. In addition, Parliament had a session set for seven years (not the normal three). This was because there was fear of a, ‘restless and popish faction that are designing and endeavouring to renew the rebellion within this kingdom, and an invasion from abroad’.8 The rebellion in Scotland began when an estimated 5,000 Jacobite soldiers assembled (including the famed Scottish outlaw, Rob Roy) and started to advance. In military terms, the Jacobites had a narrow victory at Shreffmuir (but then retreated to Perth) after having more than double (3,100 as opposed to 7,000) the number of soldiers of the Crown, and inflicting double the number of casualties. When a different force of 1,700 Jacobite soldiers attempted to enter England, they were surrounded at Preston towards the middle of November by a force almost double their number and were defeated after a short battle (in which about 50 Jacobites, and 300 Government troops were killed). With this defeat, the Jacobite uprising largely fizzled out. The failure was a result of an overall lack of cohesion and lack of substantial external support from France or Spain and limited internal Catholic support in England (as most preferred stability as opposed to revolution). The result was that by the time James Francis actually landed in Scotland on 22 December 1715, the war was over. Accordingly, he returned to France in early February 1716, as hundreds of his captured soldiers were transported to the colonies, and about 30 of the captured leaders were executed. To prevent such uprisings again, laws such as the Disarming Act prohibited, inter alia, firearms and swords being owned by individuals in the Highlands of Scotland.9

(c) French Succession Upon his return to France, James Francis found himself particularly unpopular. The new regency for Louis XV (as Louis XIV had now died) was unreceptive to his dynastic claims to the throne of Britain, especially as many in Britain saw the French support for James Francis as justification for a new war. In addition, Louis XV was himself just a boy, and there was a risk that might not make it to maturity, and/or could fall foul of similar meddling in dynastic line-ups by any of the court factions. The particular concern was the next in line would have been Philip V, the nephew of Louis, who had been at the centre of the last global conflict.10 Accordingly, both England and France had a strong desire to avoid conflict. The first step to achieve this was not to meddle in the succession processes of the other. To this goal (in addition to a renewed treaty of alliance between Britain and the United Provinces)11 a new treaty of mutual defence was agreed at the end of May 1716 between Charles VI (the Holy Roman Emperor), France and Britain. With this, the three sides promised, ‘a sincere friendship … and perfect defensive alliance’ and ‘to defend each other, and to preserves themselves in the possession of the kingdoms, provinces and rights’.12 The result of all of these words was that France, Britain, the United Provinces and the Holy Roman Emperor were now all linked together in what became known as the Quadruple Alliance. Any ambiguity in what this meant was resolved the following year in 1717, with the new alliance between Britain, France and the United Provinces. This was designed to guarantee the treaties of peace made at Utrecht, and ‘maintaining the order of succession to the crowns of France and England’.13 Within this, France promised to banish James Francis from Avignon, ‘and go and take his residence on the other side of the Alps’.14 All sides also promised not to harbour rebels to the others. This duly occurred, to which James Francis and his court had to leave France, to which they found sanctuary in Rome. The procedure for the demilitarisation of Dunkirk (as promised at Utrecht) and other places, was also keyed out.15

3.

The War of the Quadruple Alliance

Although peace was made between the other superpowers, King Philip V of Spain and the Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI did not like each other. Philip was an autocrat who was deeply impacted by what had happened to the realm promised to him during the War of Spanish Succession. This meant that upon taking power, not only was he determined to remove any vestiges of regional autonomy, he was also determined to claw back whatever he could from the 1713 and 1714 conclusions that had ended the War of Spanish Succession.16 The problem was that Charles felt exactly the same. He still believed the Spanish throne should have been his (and continued to use the title of King of Spain), and Philip (who had not signed the Treaty of Rastatt) was angry about the loss of so much territory in Italy, such as Parma, Sardinia and Sicily. The two sides prodded each other, with Philip most angry of all, with the Spanish king enthused by his new Italian wife, Elisabeth Farnese of Parma. It was Elisabeth, allegedly, who realised her children would not sit on a throne (due to the

recent peace settlements) unless one could be won in Italy. Then, to the surprise of many, Spain, without the aid of any other country, acted first, taking advantage of the fact that Charles VI, was deep in another war with the Ottomans and invaded Sardinia. This advantage was taken despite promising that Spain would do no such thing while the Emperor was fighting the Sultan.17 When it was apparent that Philip was next aiming at Sicily, Britain (despite recently settling outstanding questions with Spain over Utrecht),18 France, the United Provinces and Emperor Charles VI of Austria all linked together and warned Philip to stop. Philip, who had no such intention, explained that actions such as taking Sicily, were not done to the prejudice of the king of Sicily, but rather, to prevent Charles VI from doing the same, who, Philip assured the Sicilians, intended to annex the same island and make it a gift to himself. Accordingly, the Spanish king intended to invade, he said, to prevent greater injury to Italy and Europe, as he was ‘duty bound to resist such an extraordinary design and one so harmful to Europe, and to oppose the self-aggrandisement of His enemy’.19 Canon balls started to fly before any formal declaration of war after a British fleet positioned themselves between the next target (Sicily) and the invading force from Spain. The British then destroyed the opposition fleet at the Battle of Cape Passaro where the Spaniards lost all of their vessels, with over 2,400 dead and 3,000 taken prisoner in August 1718. It was this action that prompted Spain to declare war on Britain. In so doing, they explained that the British fleet had attacked the Spanish one, ‘without cause or motive or pretext, …’ and that they were not safeguarding the neutrality of Italy, as ‘everyone knows the Italian armistice is null and void …’20 The British replied that they were, ‘pledged by various treaties to maintain the neutrality of Italy and to defend the kingdoms, provinces and other rights in Europe which are the possessions of Our good brother, the Emperor of Germany …’ and that it was the King of Spain who had ‘ unjustly and aggressively invaded the island and Kingdom of Sicily …’. The British added that their fleet was there to help, ‘to keep up the peace negotiations …’ while protecting the islands ‘with force if necessary’, standing next to the Emperor.21 In late July 1718, the British were joined by France, the United Provinces and Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI, in what was known as the Quadruple Alliance, or more officially, the Treaty of Alliance for Settling the Public Peace. This treaty aimed ‘fixing a durable balance in Europe’22 which would be done by both upholding the existing 1713 and 1714 treaties. To do so, they not only settled existing and ongoing difficulties and questions amongst themselves (such as over the Barrier)23 with a series of interlocking agreements, but they also worked out how to deal with Spain within an alliance. This new regime sought to ‘insure the long continuance of public tranquillity’ and defuse ‘the jealousies which were increasing between some of the European princes and which were perpetually the occasion of discord’.24 This treaty of alliance was directly linked to a peace deal put to Spain, the core of which had the Spanish king, Philip V, having to recognise the 1714 Treaty of Rastatt, and thus transfer Milan, Naples and the Southern Netherlands to Austria. In addition, Philip would have to, ‘abdicate the throne of Sardinia’ and renounce all his rights in it. In return, Emperor

Charles VI would agree to, ‘recognise King Philip, and, likewise his successors … as legitimate sovereigns, granting each and every one of them the title befitting his or her station’.25 Succession rights for Parma and Tuscany were also foreshadowed, with a view that if there were no legitimate heirs, they could be linked to the Spanish queen. Sardinia joined the Quadruple Alliance in October, to be followed by Savoy, which joined in November 1718. The latter promised it would cede Sicily to the Emperor in exchange for Sardinia and a Royal title. A guarantee by Charles VI of George I’s right to the British throne, and of the Duke of Orleans’ right to the French succession (should Louis XV not reach manhood), were also part of the deal.26 Although the offer on the table was surprisingly good, the King of Spain decided to first try his chances on the battlefield. The war which followed was relatively short, but very wide. At the point of contention, the Austrians landed a force 6,000 men on Sardinia, but they were defeated by the larger Spanish force (with both killing about 1,500 of the other) at Milazzo. The following year the French invaded Catalonia and the Basque district, but both attempts were defeated by disease more than gunpowder. More Habsburg men were poured into Sardinia, but with even greater forces (21,000) they could still not defeat the larger (29,000) Spanish force at Francavilla in the middle of 1719, losing over 3,000 men in the attempt. However, on a third attempt, now that the Spanish were cut-off from resupply, the allies were successful.27 The Spanish, in an attempt to widen the war, then outfitted a new Armada, with 6,000 soldiers, to support another Jacobite uprising in Scotland in 1719. However, most of the fleet was scattered in storms, and the 300 Spanish soldiers who eventually made it and the 1,000 clansmen who went with them, were easily defeated at Glenshiel. In reply, the British attacked Spanish colonies in other parts of the world. They captured Vigo and started to march inland. The Spanish also found parts of their colony (Pensacola) in Florida under attack by the French. The Spanish struck back with an attack on South Carolina, and an attempt (which failed) to take Nassau in the Bahamas.28 Realising that he could not win against such enemies over such a distance, and having lost about 30,000 soldiers overall (while Austria had lost about half that number) since the conflict had begun, Philip V decided to opt for the peace that the allies had put to him in late November 1719. Philip accepted this deal with the Treaty of the Hague29 which recorded the conflict as one which the King of Spain had ‘unjustly entered upon’.30 This, as sketched out in the goals of the Quadruple Alliance, settled a number of inter-linked issues. With this, Philip had to give up all the territory he had captured in the war, and was given back all he had lost. Sicily moved to the ownership of the Habsburgs and Sardinia to Savoy. Philip also reiterated the commitments made at Utrecht, with renunciations over the Spanish Netherlands, and agreed to the peace of Rastatt.31 All of this occurred as Pope Clement XII protested (without success) this subsequent transfer of former Papal territories (Parma), as much as they had in 1713. Nonetheless, peace was reached, to which all sides could go on the following year to promise a ‘good, firm and inviolable peace and a perpetual and sincere friendship’.32 To show proof of this new

relationship, a new defensive alliance between France, Britain and Spain was struck. This was based upon defending the 1713, 1714 and more recent settlements which finally brought peace between Spain and Austria.33 For the Pretender, James Francis, who had been used once again as a pawn in the European wars, the result of all this reconciliation was silence. That is, when he issued his declaration of 1722 for a ‘Lasting Peace in Europe’ (in which he promised an amnesty for all those who stood against him, and peace for the ‘Elector of Hanover’ if he ‘deliver quietly to us the possession of our own kingdoms’34) he found his proposal made no impact at all.

4.

The 1720s

The 1720s were a remarkable confusion of alliances. The most radical example of the changing times occurred a few years later when Spain and Austria, reconciled in the four Treaties of Vienna, signed between April and November of 1725. These arrangements, covering a defensive alliance, commerce, navigation and peace, were designed to be ‘allembracing, Christian and permanent’, guaranteeing each other the possessions each already possessed.35 The promise to never unite the Crowns of France and Spain was reiterated, while Charles recognised Philip as ‘the lawful king of Spain’.36 He also promised to respect the recent peace with respect to Tuscany and Parma-Piacenza (as in, they would go to Don Carlos). Similarly, Philip renounced his rights to the Southern Netherlands, the kingdom of Sicily, and the Duke of Parma was confirmed as agreed in the Quadruple Alliance. In addition, Austrian participation in the Spanish trade networks (through the Ostend Company, which was envisaged to break into the lucrative trade in both India and China) was promised. The Habsburgs also committed to help financially and diplomatically, with the Spanish quest to get Gibraltar back.37 The exact reason for this full reconciliation is a matter of speculation. Although Spain was tussling with Portugal in South America at this point (undertaking an occupation of what became Uruguay) this was not a large-scale threat to the Spanish Crown. Rather, it appears that dynastic considerations were at the fore, with Philip himself abdicating in 1724 in favour of his son (but his son died of smallpox soon afterwards), and dynastic marriages left, right and centre. Support of Charles VI for the dynastic wishes of Philip V were thus as important to Spain, as getting Philip to sign off on the Pragmatic Sanction for Charles, which he did in the 1725 treaty. This significance of Philip promising to support the Pragmatic Sanction was very large, as he was the first international signatory of note. Prior to this point Charles had only managed to get a number of provincial diets (in Austria and Bohemia) to agree. One step further, a dynastic marriage between the daughter of Charles, to the son of Philip, was foreshadowed.38 The flip was that for Austria to sign on to all of these promises, they had to quit the Quadruple Alliance. The response was immediate, as large parts of Europe feared that Spain and Austria were about to reunite on the same side on the battlefield. The reply was a sequence of treaties (beginning with the 1725 Treaty of Hanover) with Britain, France and

Prussia in a defensive alliance.39 Spain and Austria responded with a secret treaty at the end of 1725, suggesting considerable territorial gains at the cost of France should another war break out. In turn, further interlinking defensive alliances with the United Provinces, Denmark and Sweden suddenly appeared. On the other side of the ledger, Russia was then coaxed into joining with Austria, as was Prussia – which had quickly swapped sides. They also recognised the Pragmatic Sanction, in exchanges of promises of traditionally Swedish territory for their realm, if war broke out.40 (a) War between Spain and Britain The war that many expected would explode Europe wide turned out to be only a bilateral affair between Spain and Britain. Although all of the other allies sat ready to pounce, it was contained between the two belligerents as Philip V (who was now back on the throne of Spain) attempted to wrestle back Gibraltar from George II (who was the new king of Britain). Although the attempted siege was a failure (in which the Spaniards lost over 1,000 men), so too was the British attack on Portobello (in which the English lost nearly 4,000, mainly due to disease, out of the 4,750 who set out). There was also an attack from the British colonists in Georgia upon two Spanish forts in the colony of Florida, although with minimal impact. (b) The Return and Balance of Peace Peace negotiations between Spain and Britain eventually concluded with the Treaty of Seville at the end of 1729. This treaty of peace, union and friendship concluded with a mutual defence agreement between Britain, France and Spain. In geographical terms, everything stayed the way it was, but the British did agree to support the dynastic claims of the Spanish queen, Elisabeth Farnese, to the Duchy of Parma. In exchange, Spain restored the legal status of the Assiento and other Anglo-Spanish trade arrangements that Britain had acquired at Utrecht in 1713.41 Although peace was written into the treaties, on the ground, tensions remained high. For example, in an act that would lead to conflict within a decade, Captain Jenkins of the Royal Navy, whilst returning from a voyage from Jamaica (in 1731, the same year the 1729 peace was renewed), had his ship stopped and searched. This search was conducted because the Spanish believed it was their right in preventing foreign trade entering their colonies in the Americas, as had been agreed with Britain with the Treaty of Utrecht. The problem was that the Spanish could not police the vast area, so the British (and other) vessels exploited the gaps. In the processes that followed, when the Spanish authorities did find foreign vessels in their waters the inspections were often rough. This was doubly complicated by the fact that the rights to inspection, like the rights to free navigation, had never been sketched out in their existing treaty relationships. It was in this context that Jenkins had his ship searched and his ear cut off.42

While the micro level incidents such as those above were sad for Jenkins, at the macro level, it appeared that some real progress towards stability was being made in Europe. This occurred as the 1729 peace with Spain paved the way for the Treaty of Vienna, which was signed in the middle of March 1731. This treaty, which effectively put an end to the fear of another regional conflict, was signed by George II, the United Provinces, the Emperor Charles VI, and later Philip V of Spain. This treaty had the goal of establishing ‘public tranquillity upon a sure and lasting foundation’ and moving back from the ‘unsettled and perplexed state of affairs of Europe’43 by securing, inter alia, a ‘balance of Europe’.44 To this, the signatories agreed to: [A] firm, sincere and inviolable friendship for the mutual advantage of the provinces and subjects belonging to each of the contracting powers … and the each … shall be obliged to defend the territories and subjects of the other’ to maintain the peace and promote the advantages of the others … as much as their own.45

This agreement, in a partial rewrite of the 1713 settlement, also agreed that Don Carlos could (due to the lineage of his mother, Elizabeth Farnese, and despite the objections of the papacy that these were their fiefs) have the now-empty lands (the last dynastic holder had died without children) in Parma and Piacenza (but not Tuscany), provided he became independent of Spain. These he took up in October of 1732. Second, the Ostend East India Company, a serious contender against the British East India Company, was permanently closed down. Emperor Charles VI revoked the company’s charter, so he could gather more support for the Pragmatic Sanction. This was given by Britain and the United Provinces in the 1731 treaty. In the same period, Prussia (1728) and Cologne (1731), also, agreed to support the Pragmatic Sanction, which Emperor Charles VI desired so strongly for his daughter, so she could take power of an undivided realm in time to come.46

5.

Skirting a Major Conflict in the 1730s

(a) The Polish Succession The major European war in the 1730s was that over the Polish Succession. The significance of this war was threefold. First, it showed how much most (but not all) of the European powers were still willing to fight for causes which should not have been central to their interests. Second, to pursue these goals, interlinking webs of alliance would pull countries into the killing. Finally, these webs were now wide enough to pull Russia into conflict with others, thus making the conflict of even wider scope. The nub of this conflict was ultimately a dispute between who should be the ruler for Poland-Lithuania. The choice was between (Augustus III) the son of the recently deceased ruler (Augustus the Strong) or a return of Stanisław Leszczyński. While the former was favoured by Russia, Prussia, Austria and Saxony, the latter was favoured by France and Sweden. The dispute resulted in two elections, each declaring victory for their preferred candidate, with the second election (if favour of Augustus III), triggering a Russian

intervention into the country.47 On 10 October 1733, just under one month after the Russian troops had entered into Poland, France declared war on Austria and Saxony, explaining that they objected to the foreign interference in the election of the Polish king. The diplomatic machinery of France then came into play. Charles Emmanuel III, the Duke of Savoy and King of Sardinia, pledged allegiance (and soon to sign treaties to that goal) to France, as did Philip V of Spain, 11 days later after Louis XV had declared war.48 The relationship with Spain was particularly important and deepened the following month when the Treaty of El Escorial/Family Compact was signed between the two Bourbon monarchs on 7 November. This included promises of French assistance in the Spanish conquest of Naples and Sicily. This was very significant, as not only did it link the two Bourbon monarchs together, as, ‘mutual guarantors of each other’s realms’,49 it also recorded that the Pragmatic Sanction was, ‘prejudicial to the House of Bourbon’ to which, [T]heir majesties are determined to join forces and oppose this with every means open to them, declaring their intention to go to war in order to put a stop to the designs … of the Emperor …50

Austria had hoped that she could counterweight some of this alliance with help from Britain and the United Provinces and the slightly earlier 1731 Treaty of Vienna which created the Anglo-Austrian Alliance. However, although this would be of great use to Austria in times to come, that time was not now, as both Britain and the United Provinces preferred, instead, to opt for neutrality. Despite the annoyance of Vienna which felt it had been let down, the British and the Dutch argued that the 1731 treaty was only for defensive purposes, and in this instance (as the French had convinced them) Austria was an aggressor, not a victim, they would, therefore, stay neutral.51 France was happy with this conclusion, as although the Holy Roman Empire could still be formidable with many of its parts, including Hanover (with its Elector, George II, also the king of England) providing support, other significant areas like Cologne and the Palatinate also stayed neutral. With these smaller powers supplementing the neutrality of the larger powers of Britain and the United Provinces, the French believed that victory against the Austrian Habsburgs was likely. To ensure that the conflict did not drag Britain and the United Provinces into the war, the conflict was designed so that contact would only be in zones that would not antagonise the British or the Dutch. Accordingly, treaties of neutrality were agreed with former antagonists, such as the United Provinces.52 This meant that while the Austrian Netherlands were out of bounds, attacks on the core Habsburgs territories and other areas of traditional areas of dispute, such as Lorraine, were fair game.53 As the Russians moved to control most of Poland-Lithuania, cementing Augustus III into place, the other armies of Europe started to move. In the Rhineland, the French invasion of the Duchy of Lorraine began immediately following their declaration of war. An army in excess of 30,000 men took the understaffed Kehl quickly at the end of October. They then waited for the worst of winter to pass, before an even greater force of 100,000 men advanced towards, and took, the fortress at Philippsburg at the beginning of June 1734. Although the French wanted to advance further along the Rhine, their advance was limited, as the size and

weight of the Imperial (now supplemented with Russians) armies, grew in size and held them in check, as the last battle at Clausen in October 1735, testified.54 The invasion of the Rhineland was matched by a similar movement into Italy (of French and Savoy-Sardinia troops) in late October 1734, as Don Carlos (with his allies) saw an opportunity to grab Naples. To this task, 50,000 soldiers flooded into the territories of Milan. The city itself surrendered in early November, before a large Austrian army began to force itself back into the region. At the battle of Colorno (near Parma) that followed (at the end of May 1734), and then San Pietro (at the end of June 1734) two armies of 60,000 men apiece mauled each other. The result was a loss to the Austrians, with at least 6,000 of their men lost, as dead or wounded (as opposed to 4,000 or so for the opposition). A further clash at Guastalla towards the end of September followed, with both sides fielding over 40,000 each. Although, this time, the French-Sardinian force won a tactical victory against the Austrians, both sides recorded a similar amount of dead (1,600) and wounded (4,000). The result between these two superpowers in Italy was now a draw. Meanwhile, the Spanish forces under the authority of Don Carlos, moved through the Papal States, took Capua and advanced into Naples, before finally cornering, and crushing, the slightly smaller force of 12,000 Austrian opposition in this part of Italy at Bitonto in late May 1734 (killing 1,000, wounding 1,000 and taking 2,500 prisoner).55 After all this killing, the primary belligerents of France and Austria agreed to find peace. This was tentatively agreed on 3 October 1735.56 Peace was relatively easy to settle, as the Austrians did not want to continue the fight, and the French (who were not cooperating well with their Spanish allies) feared the arrival of large numbers of Russian reinforcements. At a total cost of at least 50,000 French soldiers, 30,000 Austrian soldiers, and an unknown number of other belligerents, the leaders decided that enough had been spent on this cause.57 The tentative peace between France and the Holy Roman Emperor agreed in 1735 (and then slowly extended over the other warring parties) was turned into a permanent peace a few years later with the Treaty of Vienna of 1738.58 In terms of long-term goals of great significance to Emperor Charles, France accepted the Pragmatic Sanction, despite being ‘full of doubts and difficulties’59 over the topic. In terms of the conflict at hand, on the question of Italy there was a further swapping of lands (despite continuing objections from the papacy who were angered at what they saw was the loss of their fiefs and influence). In addition to the Duke of Lorraine getting the Duchy of Tuscany, larger swaps involved the Spanish Bourbons and the Habsburgs. Here, Don Carlos, the son of Philip V, took over Naples and Sicily. As a type of compensation, the Emperor received Parma, Piacenza and Tuscany. Sardinia received territories in the western part of the Milan area. Finally, on the topic of the Polish succession and the entire debacle which had started the conflict in the first place, as the French and their allies had done well out of the overall peace deal, they decided not to pursue their original goals in this area. This meant that Augustus III was confirmed as the king of Poland. While Stanisław Leszczyński renounced the throne, for which he was compensated by the Duchy of Lorraine, the former Duke of Lorraine was made heir to the Duchy of Tuscany.60

(b) Jenkins Ear The second war of significance in the 1730s that also almost led to global conflict was that of the so-called ‘Jenkins Ear’, the facts of which are sketched out above. Tensions in the colonial world in the 1730s were noticeable between Spain and Portugal, and then Spain and Britain. Of the former, despite attempts at improving relations between the two with some royal marriages in the late 1720s, there was a dispute between Portugal and Spain over a disputed border area (roughly, present-day Uruguay) between 1735 and 1737. Although this conflict was largely local (involving only a few thousand men on each side), and peace was settled in March 1737 after Spain withdrew (under the influence of the other European powers with colonial interests), there was an underlying concern that disputes in the New World had the capacity to spin out of control.61 The spinning out of control began to happen at the end of the 1730s. It was at this point, seven years after Captain Robert Jenkins had lost his ear in 1731, that he was asked to testify in Parliament about the long-standing concern of Spanish mistreatment of British sailors on the High Seas. This testimony overlapped with larger concerns of the British relationship to Spain with regard to questions of debt and contractual obligations. In the midst of all this, whilst testifying, Jenkins allegedly produced his severed ear which was kept in a box lined with cotton wool. At this point, there was an uproar from the British public.62 Initially conflict was avoided with a new regime, the Convention of Pardo of early 1739, between Spain and Britain. This, thanks to the conciliatory approach of the Spanish who had no desire for conflict at this point, went a long way towards calming matters by Spain. They agreed to some compensation (owed by Spain to Britain), and accepting their right to search being restricted to territorial waters (and not the High Seas). Britain responded in a similar good faith manner, agreeing to pay overdue costs on Asiento contracts. The question of the border of the new British colony of Georgia and the Spanish colony of Florida was to be settled by a commission. Finally, as a show of good faith, the British navy would withdraw from controversial regions.63 Despite this attempt at compromise by both sides, domestic constituents were very unsatisfied with the deal, seeing it both as wrong (the Spanish should not be able to inspect British ships, anywhere) and weak (as there was a chance for obtaining more Spanish colonies if conflict started and victory followed). Accordingly, within a few months, the Convention of Pardo was breached. The Royal Navy did not withdraw from the disputed areas as promised, and the debts to be settled by the British were not paid. The result was that war was declared on 22 October 1739.64 The violence began soon after when British ships (unsuccessfully) attacked La Guaira, the principal port of what was then a province of Venezuela. The following month, in November, they captured Portobelo (in present-day Panama), held the city, and then burnt most of its forts and warehouses. Cartegena, in modern-day Colombia, was attacked in the middle of March 1740. Further forts in the area, such as San Lorenzo were attacked at the end of March. The British returned to attack Cartagena in early May 1740, while the inhabitants of Georgia attempted (but failed) in an overland attack on the Spanish fortified

city of St Augustine in Florida. Although these were relatively small actions (and the 1741 attack against Cartagena was a disaster for Britain, with 16,000 dead or wounded and 50 ships abandoned, primarily due to disease) the support for them in England and the jingoism around them was very strong. It was from in this period that the song ‘Rule Britannia’ was written.65 For the first period, France stayed neutral and the shooting did not spread to either the geography or partners of Europe. This was very lucky, as France, due to the Family Compact of 1733 and the 1735/38 Treaty of Vienna was beginning to mobilise, moving two powerful squadrons to the Caribbean in the middle of 1740, with orders to prepare to attack the British Fleet and invade Jamaica. However, before this could be carried out, Emperor Charles VI died on 20 October and France ordered them back, waiting to see how the death of the Charles, would impact upon Europe.66

6.

Conclusion

The period of the interregnum, between the end of the War of Spanish Succession and the beginning of the War of Austrian Succession, was a waiting period before the next major global conflict. It was a period in which, primarily, war and its causes continued to be determined in accordance with the needs and desires of monarchs. The slight difference was that there was an increased belief that if there was a broad parity between opponents, conflict would be deterred. For the first decade after the Treaties of Utrecht, most of the major players wanted a calm world so that they could each entrench their new monarchs. This desire to avoid conflict, so that there were no internal challenges, resulted in a rare piece of cooperation between former belligerents. This was useful, as the exception to this period was with Spain, which continued to war for dynastic advantages. However, peace was even found here, as Austria, in turn, became obsessed with finding a mechanism by which its preferred dynastic path (the Pragmatic Sanction) could be followed. In trying to find this path, Austria was willing to turn its diplomatic practice upside down, to get the consent of different European countries to the deal it wanted. In what followed, the 1730s was a bewildering collection of public and secret treaties, as new alliances were forged, discarded, and then re-modelled – especially as France and Austria reconciled, and the relationship between Spain and France was wrapped with a family cord – while others, like the United Provinces, tried to drift towards neutrality. The sideshow to these developments was Prussia, moving around the diplomatic chess board, continually trying to find the best place to sit, while Spain and Britain, walked a fine line between peace and war for most of the 1730s. This approach meant that when parts of Europe (primarily France and Austria) fell into conflict over the question over who was best to rule in Poland-Lithuania, peace was eventually returned by some swaps of titles and territory in Italy, and French acceptance of the Pragmatic Sanction. As this war came to a conclusion, conflict between Spain and Britain broke out. This conflict between Spain and Britain was about to get a whole lot

worse, when the Holy Roman Emperor died and the Europeans prepared to fall into the chasm of the War of Austrian Succession.

1 The ‘Pactum Mutuae Successions’. This is reprinted in Macartney, C (ed.) The Habsburg and Hohenzollern Dynasties in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. (Harper, NYC). 87. 2 The Pragmatic Sanction. This is reprinted in Macartney, ibid. 89, 90. 3 Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 172–73; Roider, K (1972). ‘The Pragmatic Sanction’. Austrian History Yearbook. 8(2): 153–58. 4 See Holmes, G (1987). British Politics in the Age of Anne. (Longman, London). 83–84. 5 This quote is from the preamble to the Riot Act. It is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 485. 6 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 38; Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 444–45. 7 This quote is in Hatton, R (2001) George I. (Yale University Press, London) at 109. Also 15–18, 23–30, 70–75, 108– 09. 8 The 1716 Septennial Act. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 487. Also, Hatton, R (2001) George I (Yale University Press, London) 211–12. 9 Duffy, C. (2003). The ’45. (Cassell, London). 37, 99, 101; Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 262–63, 369–76; Hatton, R (2001) George I. (Yale University Press, London) 178–79; Hatton, R (2001) George I. (Yale UP, London) 174–75; Oates, J (2006). ‘Responses in the North of England to the Jacobite Rebellion of 1715’. Northern History. 43(1): 77–95; Abbott, S (2003). ‘Clerical Responses to the Jacobite Rebellion in 1715’. Historical Research 76 (193): 332–46; Purcell, P (1929). ‘The Jacobite Rising of 1715 and the English Catholics’. The English Historical Review. 44(175): 418–32. 10 Krieger, L (1970). Kings and Philosophers: 1689–1789. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 76; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 54. 11 The Renewed Treaty of Alliance between Britain and the United Provinces is in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 1. 12 This quote is from arts I and II of the Treaty of Mutual Defence between Charles VI and George I, as reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 175. See also the copy in 29 CTS 453. 13 The quote is from the long title of the Treaty of Alliance between France, Britain and the United Provinces. This is reprinted in Jenkinson, ibid, II: 185. 14 Art II, ibid. 15 See Hatton, R (2001) George I (Yale University Press, London) 180; Schweizer, K (1997). ‘Jacobitism and British Foreign Policy’. The European Legacy. 2(5): 849–53. 16 See ‘Philip V Abolishes Aragonese and Valencian Privileges’, as in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 10, 35. Also, Fox, P (2018). ‘Bourbon Reforms and Aragonese Law in Eighteenth Century Spain’. European History Quarterly. 48(2): 203–31; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 229; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 79–81. 17 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 198; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 280. 18 See the 1716 Treaty of Madrid between Britain and Spain, as reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 4. 19 See the ‘Letter to the Marquis of Villamayor’, as reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700– 1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 60.

20 The Spanish Declaration of War, as reprinted in Hargreaves, ibid. 62–63. 21 The British Declaration of War, as reprinted in Hargreaves, ibid. 66; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 53–55. 22 Chambers, G (1790). A Collection of Treaties between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Stockdale, London). I: 257. 23 The 1718 Barrier Treaty Elaboration Treaty. This is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 228; Hatton, R (2001) George I. (Yale University Press, London) 216. 24 This quote is from the preamble of the 1718 Treaty of Alliance between Britain, France, Austria and the United Provinces. It is reprinted in Davenport, ibid, IV: 13, 15. 25 See the ‘Articles of the Quadruple Treaty of Alliance, Pertaining to Spain’, as reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 69. 26 See the Admission of Sardinia to the Quadruple Alliance, as in 30 CTS 467. 27 See generally, Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random, London). 357; Hatton, R (2001) George I. (Yale University Press, London) 230–31. 28 Duffy, C (2003). The ’45. (Cassell, London). 40–41. 29 See the Convention between France, Britain, the Empire and Spain, as in 31 CTS 71. See also Accession of Spain to the Quadruple Alliance, as in 31 CTS 149. 30 Paragraph 1, ibid. 31 Note the Act of Cession of Sardinia to the Emperor, as in 31 CTS 259 and 265. 32 The Treaty of Britain and Spain, 1721. This is reprinted in A Complete Collection of All the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Ulan Press, California) 366. 33 See the 1721 Treaty of Defensive Alliance Between France, Britain and Spain is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 27; Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 74. 34 The Declaration of James the Third, to all His Subjects of the Three Nations and to all Foreign Princes and States to Serve as a Foundation for a Lasting Peace in Europe, is reprinted in Aksu.E (ed.) Early Notions of Global Governance. (University of Wales Press, Cardiff). 66–69. 35 The 1725 Treaty of Vienna, as reprinted in Hargreaves, ibid. 86. Also in 32 CTS 37. 36 Art IV. 37 Krieger, L (1970). Kings and Philosophers: 1689–1789. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 77. 38 Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 173; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 280. 39 See the Treaty of Alliance between Britain, France and Prussia, as in 32 CTS 175. 40 The linkages of Prussia and the United Provinces to the 1725 Treaty of Defensive Alliance are in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 274, 281, and 290. The Secret Treaty of 1725 between Spain and Austria is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 38. The swap of Prussia to the Holy Roman Empire in 1727 is in 32 CTS 421, and 33 CTS 127. The Prussia and Russia link is at 33 CTS 249 and 283. See also, Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 258. 41 The 1729 Treaty of Seville. This is reprinted in Jenkinson, ibid. 306. Also, Black, J (2004). ‘Interventionism, Structuralism and Contingency in British Foreign Policy in the 1720s’. The International History Review. 26(4): 734–64. 42 Young, P (2011). ‘Domestic Politics and the Escalation of Commercial Rivalry: Explaining the War of Jenkins’ Ear, 1739–48’. European Journal of International Relations. 17(2): 209–32. 43 This wording is from the preamble of the 1731 Treaty of Vienna (Between Spain, Austria and Britain). This is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 310. 44 Ibid, art II.

45 Ibid, art I. 46 Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 357; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 281. 47 See page 303 of this volume. See also Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 380–81; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 208. 48 See the Treaty of Alliance between France and Sardinia, as in 34 CTS 95. 49 The Treaty of El Escorial/First Family Pact, 1733, as reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 97. It is also in 34 CTS 111. 50 Art 8, ibid. 51 See the Convention on Neutrality between France and the Netherlands, as at 34 CTS 139. 52 Ibid. 53 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 79–81, 104–05; Black, J (1986). ‘British Neutrality in the War of Polish Succession’. The International History Review. 8(3): 345–66; Black, J (2004) ‘Recovering Lost Years: British Foreign Policy After the War of the Polish Succession’. Diplomacy and Statecraft. 15(3):465–87; Black, J (1989). ‘ANgo-Austrian Relations, 1725–1740: A Study in Failure’. British Journal for Eighteenth Century Studies. 12: 39; Lodge, M (1931). ‘English Neutrality in the War of Polish Succession’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 14: 143–73. 54 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 210. 55 Ibid. 211. 56 See the Preliminaries of Peace between the Emperor and France, as in 34 CTS 383. 57 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 75. 58 The 1738 Convention between the Emperor and France, as in 35 CTS 117, and the peace, 35: 183. 59 This quote is from the letter of the French minister in Ratisbon. It is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Select Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 4. 60 See the Convention between the Emperor and France for the Cession and Delivery of the Duchy of Lorrain to King Stanislas I of Poland, as in 34 CTS 401. Also, Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 175. 61 For the 1737 peace, see the Convention between Spain and Portugal, 35 CTS 41. The two marriage arrangements in 1727 are 32 CTS 479, and 33 CTS 1. Also, Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 138. 62 Young, P (2011). ‘Domestic Politics and the Escalation of Commercial Rivalry: Explaining the War of Jenkins’ Ear, 1739–48’. European Journal of International Relations. 17(2): 209–32; Hildner, E (1938). ‘The Role of the South Sea Company in the Diplomacy Leading to the War of Jenkin’s Ear’. The Hispanic American Historical Review. 18(3): 322–41. 63 The 1739 Convention of Pardo. This is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 139. Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 60–69. 64 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 131; Lambert, A. (2002). War at Sea in the Age of Sail. (Cassel, London). 110–11; Temperley, H (1909). ‘The Causes of the War of Jenkins’ Ear’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 3: 197–236. 65 Cox, O (2013). ‘Frederick, Prince of Wales, and the First Performance of ‘Rule Britannia!’. The Historical Journal 56(4): 931–54; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 70–72. 66 Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 55.

V The War of Austrian Succession Introduction

1.

B





of 1740 and 1748, the war of Austrian Succession cost the lives of,

ETWEEN THE YEARS

perhaps, 500,000 people, with 300,000 or so wounded or missing.1 This was the price for eight years of conflict that stretched from Europe to the New World, to India and even the coasts of Africa. The killing was justified around the rights and interests of autocratic rulers, super-charged in increasingly sticky (but often fragile) webs of foreign alliances. This war, fundamentally, is an example of how conflicts in the middle of the eighteenth century that started out over questions of opportunity and dynasty, could quickly spread (in both areas and alliances) and deepen (in terms of both length and impact). This was not a war about principles involving constitutional options or human freedom. It was a conflict that started, and spread, about the opportunity (or revenge) to take lands (or colonies) belonging to other sovereigns, with both risk and help tied directly to who was in alliance with whom.

2.

The Prize

By 1740, much of Europe was in a state of heightened tension. It was balanced precariously on the diplomatic relationships which had concluded the tensions and conflicts in the 1730s.2 The one tension above all others that propelled western Europe towards the War of Austrian Succession was the Pragmatic Sanction. The fuse to this war began when Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI died in October 1740 and the Pragmatic Sanction, which attempted to guarantee succession to his 23-year-old daughter, Maria Theresa, came into play. The simple problem was that not only had some not signed it, others who had were backing away from honouring it. For example, Spain had prepared a position paper, despite their earlier signature, justifying King Philip V’s claim to much of the Habsburg inheritance. Louis XV of France also looked at the Habsburg inheritance with great interest. However, the two areas which probably studied the matter closest were both Saxony and Bavaria. Here, the Elector of Saxony, Augustus III was also the King of Poland-Lithuania, while Charles Albert (soon to be Emperor, Charles VII) was the Elector-Prince of Bavaria. The importance of the Bavarian and Saxony angles was that both men were married to daughters of Emperor

Joseph, and the Pragmatic Sanction deprioritised their dynastic claims in favour of their cousin, Maria Theresa.3

3.

Frederick II

As those from France, Spain, Bavaria and Saxony were all musing the Habsburg inheritance, it was the Prussians with their new 28-year-old King Frederick II (Frederick I having died a few months earlier) who took power at the end of May 1740, who went one step further. Frederick II was able to take this step, as through the careful crafting of both his grandfather, and his father, the Hohenzollern dynasty had turned Prussia into a Dukedom, and then (from 1701) a Kingdom. This country was an emerging industrial nation, highly efficient, driven, militaristic, and to a degree ‘enlightened’. That is, greater personal freedoms (such as freedom of religion, and to a degree, freedom of speech) existed in his lands than many of those surrounding him. However, it was not a republic, much less a democracy, and what small freedoms did exist were always overshadowed by the absolute power of the Prussian King. The highly autocratic flywheel at the heart of Prussia was Frederick, who ensured national goals trumped all other considerations. These goals were not about the liberties of his citizens, but the power and glory of his regime.4 In terms of international politics, although Prussia had also signed onto promising to respect the Pragmatic Sanction in 1728, the thinking of the Prussians was that the 1733 Family Compact between Spain and Austria, and then the 1738 Treaty of Vienna (which ended the war of Polish Succession) had changed everything. According to legend, Frederick I’s reply to this Austrian position (and treaty of peace with France) in 1738, was, pointing to his son Frederick II, ‘there stands one who will avenge me’.5 He felt betrayed as he believed the 1738 treaty made the 1737 treaty (which renewed the original 1727 partnership)6 between Austria and Prussia null and void. The revenge began on 16 December 1740, when Frederick II invaded Silesia. This region of about 40,000 square kilometres, which is today primarily in south-west Poland, was the nub of conflict which would rage for over the next two decades. Frederick II’s justification for the invasion of Silesia was about power and opportunity. It was not deep on principle. He reasoned: Silesia is the portion of the Imperial heritage to which we have the strongest claim and which is most suitable for the house of Brandenburg. It is cognizant with justice to maintain one’s rights and to seize the opportunity of the Emperor’s [Charles VI’s] death to take possession. The superiority of our troops, the promptitude with which we can set them in motion, in a word, the clear advantage we have over our neighbours gives us in unexpected emergency an infinite superiority over all other powers of Europe. If we wait till Saxony and Bavaria start hostilities we could not prevent the aggrandizement of the former which is wholly contrary to our interests … England and France are foes … I can always make a good alliance with one or the other … Holland will not care …7

Accordingly, Frederick II decided to strike before anyone else could seize the prize. Thus: I conclude from all this reasoning that we must put ourselves in possession of Silesia before the winter, and negotiate during the winter; then we shall always find cards to play, and we shall negotiate successfully when we are in possession, whereas if we act otherwise, we shall sacrifice our advantages, and we shall never get anything out of simple

negotiation …8

Whether this was a spur-of-the-moment decision, or deeply thought out in advance, is a matter of debate. Why he wanted it probably had more to do with Silesia geographically rounding off his kingdom, its natural wealth, and its location in a direction which could allow future expansion while not pointing directly towards other powerful surrounding countries. He also would have assumed the timing was right, as Austria had just come out of a disastrous war with the Ottomans, and the Austria-Russian alliance was weak following the death of Tsarina Anna in October 1740. He also reasoned that the 1739 treaty9 which Prussia held with France, and the renewal of the Prussian alliance with Russia (in mid-December, 1740),10 would be sufficient to prevent the conflict from expanding. In short, while Prussia was feeling strong, Frederick saw Austria as isolated externally, politically splintered internally, and geographically spread over too wide an area to defend. All of this while it was being directed by an untested 23-year-old female, whose tenure was based on the flimsy piece of paper known as the Pragmatic Sanction. His assessment of the Archduchess of Austria, Maria Theresa, was not misplaced. As she herself later recorded, she ascended the throne, ‘without money, without credit, without an army, without experience or knowledge of my own, and finally without advice’.11 As Frederick advanced, he found that most of Silesia fell quickly to the Prussian forces, as it was only defended by 1,700 soldiers. It was not until a few months later, on 10 April 1741 at the battle of Mollwitz, that a substantial clash occurred. By this point the Austrians had redeployed and reassembled an army of 19,000 men to stop the advance of the 21,600 Prussians in front of them. Although the Prussians lost slightly more (4,850, dead, wounded and missing) than the Austrians, the Prussians still took the victory (even though Frederick had fled the field in the mistaken belief he had been defeated), as the Austrians retreated. This retreat, and the Prussian victory, were portentous.12

4.

The Opportunities for Others of the Habsburg Inheritance

Once under his possession, Frederick then wrote to Maria Theresa, offering to pay an indemnity of 3 million gulden for the cession of Silesia. He also pointed to some (weak) historical entitlements to the area, and explained he did what he did, ‘to ensure the real public good and the equilibrium of Europe, to preserve the system of the Empire and guard the liberty of Germany, and to take the one genuine chance of saving the poor remains of the House of Austria’. He then promised if she was willing to concede Silesia to him, he would, inter alia, ‘guarantee with all my forces all the State which the House of Austria possesses in Germany, against any State that tries to invade them’.13 Finally, he offered to vote for her husband Francis Stephen in the forthcoming imperial election for Emperor. The Archduchess of Austria, Maria Theresa, refused to even discuss terms with Frederick II, whom she termed a ‘robber’14 and demanded the war be continued. With the refusal, Frederick (who claimed his ancestors would rise from their tombs if he gave up Silesia)

turned to France for support, and deepened his existing relationship with them with a new treaty on their shared defensive alliance on 5 June 1741.15 Together, Prussia and France (and also Spain, Saxony and Naples) agreed to support Charles Albert, the Prince-Elector of Bavaria, in his quest to obtain some of the Austrian inheritance. Once Charles Albert was made Emperor, and Maria Theresa defeated, the plan was to divide up the Habsburg realm. The broad idea was that Bavaria was to get Austria, Tyrol and Bohemia; Moravia was to go to Saxony, Silesia to Prussia would be confirmed, and the Austrian Netherlands were to go to France. The Italian possessions of the Habsburgs were to go to Spain (to which their King Philip hoped to add territories for his other son, Don Philip, as he had acquired Naples for Don Carlos), while the papacy demanded that Piacenza and Parma be secured as their fiefs.16 While most of Europe was racing head-first into a massive conflict, Britain, despite a fair degree of public sympathy towards the plight of Maria Theresa, was not yet ready to walk into the maelstrom. Although they adjusted their (1731) obligations to Austria in the middle of 1741,17 their efforts focused primarily on their conflict against Spain, as part of the war of Jenkin’s Ear. This meant that in the middle of March 1741, a massive fleet of 186 ships and 27,000 men (including 4,000 recruits from Virginia) sailed from Jamaica to attack Cartagena. This time, the Spanish were ready, defeating the invaders and inflicting losses of over 6,000 casualties, for the price of only 1,000 or so defenders.18 Although the British Parliament was cautious about getting involved in conflict on the Continent, the British King, George II, who was also still the Elector of Hanover, wanted to get involved in European affairs. However, he could only do this by wearing a different hat, one that was not the Crown of Britain. Accordingly, as Elector, George decided that Hanover would agree with the Neustadt Protocol of 12 October 1741, aiming for a general neutrality that did not provide support to Maria Theresa, but would, nonetheless, support the imperial goals of Charles-Albert of Bavaria.19 As Britain tried to stay wide of the European conflict (to focus on Spain and the Caribbean) and before Russia could decide whether to accept the Austrian invitation to help (as Sweden, struck Russia) the war machinery in western Europe all started to move. In Italy, Spain started to land troops in the area of Don Carlos’s Naples, from which an army of 40,000 Spaniards and Neapolitans struck towards Milan, while Pope Benedict XIV, like a voice from the Middle Ages, in his 1741 Pastoralis Romani Pontificis excommunicated the governments of Spain, France, the Holy Roman Empire and all of their various allies in Italy, who transgressed and/or made deals over traditional Papal areas. In the same period, at the end of July 1741, 10,000 Bavarian troops occupied Passau on the Danube, and then invaded upper Austria in September.20 In August 1741, Frederick of Prussia reached a secret agreement (that of KleinSchnellendorf) with Austria. In exchange for allowing an Austrian army to walk away from a threatening Prussian army, and Prussia being allowed to take Neisse and keep Silesia, Frederick would break off his alliances with the other enemies of Austria. However, although the agreement started well, Frederick did not trust the sincerity of Austria while, at the same time, he incurred the anger of his allies who accused him of bad faith. Accordingly, Prussia

reinvigorated their attacks against the Austrians. At this point, the Bavarians were now 70 kilometres from Vienna. These Bavarian troops were then joined by supplementary forces from both France and Saxony (with the latter joined by treaty), and together, at the end of November, they swung towards (and captured with minimal violence) Prague, not Vienna. In the same time, the Prussians took Glatz (Klodzko, in modern-day Poland), and then together with Saxon and French troops, took Olmutz (in the modern-day Czech Republic).21 With these events, and feeling secure in the result, Charles Albert had himself proclaimed King of Bohemia. Two months later on 24 January 1742, the non-Habsburg Charles, was proclaimed as the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles VII. On the very day of this election, the Austrians struck back and Maria Theresa’s soldiers took Linz, the capital of the new Emperor. Some 30,000 Austrians then clashed with 28,000 Prussians at the battle of Chotusitz (upper centre, of modern-day Czech Republic) in the middle of May 1742, when the Prussians were trying to march towards Bohemia to support the French. Although both sides lost about 7,000 men, (including 1,000 Austrians, and nearly 2,000 for the Prussians), it was the Austrians who retreated. However, the Prussians, having also suffered, would not chase them. Around the same time, at the end of May, the French found, and defeated, an Austrian force, inflicting about 500 Austrian casualties.22

5.

Splintering the Opposition and Building New Alliances

The above situations helped Maria Theresa to realise that, to survive, she had to splinter the alliance against her, and rebuild her own relationships with her allies. This took five steps. The first step, contrary to all expectations, occurred when Maria Theresa, as the newly crowned sovereign, appealed directly to the Hungarian Diet for support. The expectation for this Diet which had not met since 1728 (following an open breach with Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI) was that the Hungarians who had spent much more time fighting against, as opposed to fighting for the Habsburgs, would not agree to help her. In fact, the complete opposite occurred, and after granting the Diet new powers, her plea on 11 September 1741 that the very existence of the realm, including that of Hungary, was at stake, was well received. Through logic, sympathy and theatre, she convinced the Hungarians with her plea that she was, ‘forsaken by all’ to which she placed, ‘our sole resource in the fidelity, arms and long-tried valour of the Hungarians’,23 to help defend her regime.24 The second step in early February 1742, was the Convention of Turin. This was signed between Sardinia and Austria, in which both sides agreed to cooperate against the Spanish threat coming up from the south of Italy. This was a great success for the Archduchess of Austria, as the King of Sardinia-Piedmont, Charles Emmanuel, was being courted by both the Bourbons and the Habsburgs. He went with Austria, for fear of what Spanish and French troops could otherwise do and promises of what he could acquire if successful in his alliance with Maria Theresa.25 The third step was the peace agreement made at Breslau (soon to become the definitive

peace Treaty of Berlin) between Prussia and Austria, to which Britain would be the guarantor. Breslau was concluded in early June 1742. With this, most of Silesia was ceded to Prussia, along with a small part (Glatz) of Bohemia. In exchange, Prussia promised to be neutral in the rest of the war (that is, again abandon their alliances with France and Bavaria), and take on some of Austria’s debt. The fourth step, which followed quickly on from the third, was a peace with Saxony, on the basis of the status quo, in late July 1742. Russia also agreed to accede to the peace of Berlin.26 From the same period, in the second half of 1742, at the end of June, Britain and Austria concluded a new relationship.27 Soon after, troops from Britain (and Hanover) were shipped to the Austrian Netherlands (even through this part of Europe was not a war zone, and even though the 16,000 Hanoverian troops were meant to be neutral), to help ensure that the conflict did not spill into the lands to the north of France. These troops were also joined by the Dutch and, together, they became known as the ‘Pragmatic Army’ (as it was defending the Pragmatic Sanction) which was led by the British King, George II, in person. This command made George the last British monarch to lead troops into battle. The ideal was that these troops were to remain in the Austrian Netherlands, and not spill over into the areas now recognised as Germany. This was made somewhat safer, when at the end of November 1742, Britain and Prussia struck a defensive alliance,28 and a few weeks later in early December, the alliance Britain had recently struck with Russia was deepened.29 As these new relationships settled in, in central Europe, Austria was now free to turn its full attention on the Franco-Bavarian occupation. The particular target was the 20,000 or so Franco-Bavarian army in and around Prague, and the territory of Bavaria, who had been abandoned by its Prussian allies. These soldiers were now being hunted by an army of 70,000 Austrians. Although 14,000 of the Franco-Bavarian force escaped towards the end of 1742, the occupation of most of the Bavarian territory was completed, to which it was apparent to all that Charles, although having become Emperor, had lost his own Bavarian home. In this situation, with Austria now holding the upper hand, peace talks were attempted between these belligerents from the end of 1742. However, Maria Theresa refused to give any of Bavaria back unless she received Silesia and then, as she started to feel more confident, also suggested that Alsace and Lorraine, also within the French realm, should be returned as part of any potential peace package.30

6.

The Slide Towards World War

The other theatre where the war began to change was around Italy. Here, Britain was now working closer with Austria, and in turn, Sardinia, with all three linked by overlapping treaties. The result of this was the arrival of a British naval squadron, which entered Naples harbour, thus forcing the Spanish forces which were poised nearby to retreat. This show of force against the Spanish followed an escalation of British-Spanish hostilities in the New World. This occurred in 1742 with British attacks upon the Spanish at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba and Panama. These attacks were matched by an unsuccessful Spanish attempt to invade

Georgia with 2,000 troops, followed by further British attacks against Guantanamo Bay and La Guaira (Venezuela) in 1743. In all instances, British ambitions were thwarted, with the loss of hundreds of lives to injury, while thousands more were lost to tropical diseases.31 In Italy, in February 1743, attempts by 14,000 Spanish and Neapolitan men to achieve a breakthrough against 12,000 men from Austria and Sardinia failed to achieve anything significant. Although the Austrian and Sardinian forces retreated, the losses for the victors on the battlefield (3,800 dead, wounded or taken prisoner) were much greater than those of the defeated. Pursuit was not possible and this front settled into gridlock. In western Europe, although Britain had tried to stay out of the conflict in Europe, when the Pragmatic Army under the leadership of King George II left the Austrian Netherlands (and the inactive defensive positioning it had maintained) and marched into Germany in 1743 towards Bavaria, it found itself deep in the conflict. By the end of June, George found his forces somewhat isolated after the French had cut his supply lines. This forced the Pragmatic Army to stop at Dettinger (about 18 miles east of Frankfurt), where it battled a French force on 27 June 1743. In the conflict that followed, some 35,000 British, Austrian and Hanoverian forces faced off against 23,000 French, and defeated them, of which some 4,000 or so were killed or wounded, as opposed to about 2,500 on Georges’ side.32 After the victory, George II continued to advance the forces under his command to the city of Worms, which they took and waited for the winter to pass. It was here that the monumental Treaty of Worms was agreed between Britain (as opposed to George II fighting as the Elector of Hanover), Austria and Sardinia on 13 September 1743. Although George signed this while he was in Germany, the focus of the treaty was strictly on Italy. The purpose of the treaty was, ‘for the sake of repelling, with one accord, the unjust invasion made by the Kings of Spain and Naples, and for securing Italy … for the future, from all attempts of the same king’.33 This was deemed necessary because the attempts by Spain and Naples to take the Austrian dominions in Italy were, ‘contrary to the faith of their own engagements’ and likely to, ‘overthrow all balance in Europe, and to expose its liberty, and that of its commerce, to … danger’.34 In practical terms, after both sides were well oiled with British subsidies, Austria surrendered a large part of Lombardy and a section of Piacenza to help keep the King of Sardinia on side. England also agreed to provide a battle fleet in the Mediterranean. In exchange, Sardinia renounced its claim to Milan, guaranteed the Pragmatic Sanction and agreed to provide 40,000 troops for a joint Italian army to fight the French and the Spanish. Significantly, although the Treaty of Worms guaranteed the Pragmatic Sanction, it was silent about the Prussian acquisition of Silesia.35 Although the British and Austrians had intended to keep their focus upon Italy, the Treaty of Worms created a reaction in which the Bourbon enemies refused to let the war stay contained in the way that Britain and Austria wanted it. This reaction occurred a little over a month after the Treaty of Worms was made public, to which the 1733 Family Compact between Spain and France was renewed and updated in the Treaty of Fontainebleau on 25 October 1743,36 in which the friendship recorded in the 1733 treaty was repeated, as were their promises to be mutual guarantors of the safety and rights of the other. Article 3

explained that: His Catholic majesty finds himself constrained to employ his forces in the fight to make good his rightful claims to the throne vacated by the last Emperor Charles VI and … is resolute in actively repulsing the advances of the Court of Vienna and its allies.37

As the King of Sardinia had ‘put his name to a treaty with the Court of Vienna [the Treaty of Worms, therefore Philip V of Spain] enters into an obligation to declare war on him’.38 It was added, that the Spanish King’s: [C]hief purpose in pursuing his rights in the matter of the succession of the Emperor and in the claims of His wife the Queen, is none other than to secure for his son, His Majesty Don Felipe, an inheritance befitting his noble birth.39

Both France and Spain agreed to a mutual declaration of war against Britain,40 with a view to the recovery of Gibraltar and Minorca. The lucrative part of the foreign trade in slaves to the Spanish colonies was to go to France, after being removed from Britain. Finally of note, it was agreed that: [S]ince the security of Florida cannot be assured, so long as the new colony of Georgia is allowed to exist, where hitherto the English have been unable to justify their settlement by any title, [France and Spain] shall … take action in concert to compel the English to destroy the new colony as well as any other fortified place which they have constructed in the territory of his Catholic Majesty in America.41

Prior to this treaty, although it was only a convenient fiction, France had only been an auxiliary to help Bavaria in their war in Germany as well as to Spain to help in their war in Italy. All this changed at Fountainebleu, from which Versailles, officially, became a belligerent in the war of Austrian Succession. War was then declared on Britain in March, and Austria in April. The other country which did not respond well to the Treaty of Worms was Prussia. Here, Frederick feared that the Worms alliance was going to lead to Maria Theresa retaking Silesia. Even though Silesia had not been mentioned, Fredrick feared this omission meant the earlier treaties guaranteeing it to him were invisible. To this fear he decided to re-intervene in war. This time, again in cooperation with France and on behalf of Bavaria and its exiled leader, Emperor Charles VII, to whom Frederick cast himself as a defender of ‘Germanic Liberties’. This casting suited the archduchess of Austria perfectly, giving her every reason she needed to tear up the Treaty of Breslau, telling her faithful Silesian subjects they would soon be freed from the Prussian tyrant.42

7.

Coming to the Boil

The war increased in temperature in 1744. In and around Italy, the tide of war went back and forth. In the Balearic Sea, the French were engaged in fierce naval battles near Toulon in late February 1744, where they sailed 27 ships of the line into a slightly larger force of English vessels. Although the casualties were not great, the French did not succeed in breaking the British dominance in the region. Nonetheless, the French and Spanish continued to push forward, with the goal of knocking Sardinia-Piedmont out of the war and/or advance

northwards into Austrian territory. In this quest, relatively smaller battles were recorded at Cateldelfino on 8 August 1744, when the French lost 1,900 of their 5,000 men, but completely destroyed the opposing forces of Savoy (inflicting 2,000 casualties), and then at Velletri, south of Rome, on 11 August 1744. In the latter engagement, some 12,000 soldiers from Spain and Naples stopped 10,000 Austrian soldiers advancing towards Naples, killing and/or capturing at least 4,000. Six weeks later, the King of Sardinia and his 25,000 men were defeated by 26,000 Spanish and French soldiers at the battle of Madonna dell’Olmo in late September 1744, killing, wounding or imprisoning about 4,400 of them (more than double their own losses).43 As these forces were clashing in Italy, in western Europe, Louis XV led 90,000 men into the Austrian Netherlands. These forces advanced quickly, passing easily through the Barrier Forts, including Menin, Furnes, Courtrai and Yprès by the middle of 1744, with none of them offering the significanct resistance for which they had been designed. The advance came to stop when the French King was made aware that the Rhine had been crossed in the same period, and a 70,000-man army had invaded France on the other side, with Alsace and Lorraine their objectives. Louis then had to reposition his forces (moving back out of the Austrian Netherlands), find the enemy, hold the line, and slowly push back against the forces which had invaded France. Louis XV was so engaged in the fight that he was nearly killed, taking Freiburg towards the end of the year.44 On 15 August, 80,000 troops under the guidance of Frederick II crossed into Bohemia, before surrounding Prague and bombarded it, forcing it to surrender on 16 September. The problem this action created for Frederick was that, in his advance on Prague, he crossed the territory of Saxony, which now declared itself to be fighting for Maria Theresa. The result was that although Frederick took Prague, he found his supply lines overstretched, and he was now facing a combined Austrian and Saxon army. Fearing a bad winter and the risk of being surrounded by an opposition of over 70,000 men, Frederick then withdrew to Silesia, with a much smaller force as thousands had died of injury, disease, or had deserted the Prussian cause. As the forces of Austria were concentrated around Prague, the Emperor Charles VII, who was becoming increasingly ill, reconquered his Bavarian electorate, and retook Munich.The problem was, with this dying non-Habsburg emperor, that when he passed, the questions of succession, dynasty and empire started to become very complex. Then, as the Bavarians were wondering whether to continue the fight, or be content with their reacquisitions, they, with their French allies, were caught by the Austrians at the battle of Pfaffenhofen in the middle of April 1745. In this battle, the French and Bavarian forces lost 2,400 men (out of a total of 7,000) to a larger force of 10,000 Austrians (who suffered only 800 casualties). The tally of the last battle was enough for Bavaria to reconsider what it wanted to do in the overall conflict. The result was the Peace of Fussen, in which the successor of Charles VII, the new Elector of Bavaria (Maximillian III Joseph), agreed to stop fighting and not risk losing everything he possessed, in terms of both title and his Bavarian realm. In exchange, he had to abandon the claims of his father (the late Holy Roman Emperor Charles VII) on Bohemia and support the imperial candidacy of the husband of Maria Theresa, Francis Stephen. He was also obliged to provide the allies with Bavarian auxiliary troops for the

conflict that was raging in the Austrian Netherlands.45

8.

Full Boil

In early 1745, Austria, Britain, Saxony and the Dutch Republic were all feeling confident as they endorsed their Quadruple Alliance.46 The French King decided to test this optimism, as he advanced again into the Austrian Netherlands, at the head of an even larger army than before. This time, one of his armies was sent to besiege Tournai. When the attempt was made to lift the siege, the battle of Fontenoy (close to Tournai, in modern-day western Belgium) occurred on 11 May 1745, when just over 100,000 men clashed on the battlefield. In this first conclusive French land victory over a British commander since the fifteenth century, they not only recorded a well-known civility (allowing the English to shoot first), they also outwitted the opposition on the battlefield. Although they may have regretted the first decision (five British battalions, about 2,500 men inflicted more than 600 casualties in their first fire), the outcome of the battle made the French very proud. The result for the coalition against France was somewhere between 10,000 and 12,000 men, listed as dead, wounded or missing (as opposed to only about 7,000 or so for the French). This was a massive victory, that was only heightened when the British had to pull most of their troops out of the region to deal with the Jacobite uprising (see below). The result allowed the French, by the end of 1745, to occupy most of the United Provinces, with only Brussels and Antwerp, holding out.47 The war was also going well for the French-Spanish-Prussian alliance in Italy who were particularly buoyed by the decision of the Republic of Genoa, after a long time of trying to stay neutral, signing a treaty with the Bourbon allies to fight against Austria, Sardinia and Britain.48 The Gallispans quickly captured important Piedmontese and Milan fortresses and the major towns of Piacenza, Parma and Pavia, while the larger opposing forces stalked each other, eventually colliding at Bassignano at the end of September 1745. At that point, some 70,000 soldiers from France, Spain and Genoa defeated an opposing force of 55,000 from Sardinia and Austria. Although the losses for the defeated were relatively small (2,500), momentum developed from which Alessandria, Valenza and Casale Monferrato quickly fell, with Mantua being the only major fort still in Austrian hands.49 The clashes between Frederick and Maria Theresa were particularly brutal in 1745. The killing began following the Bavarian exit from war. This exit meant the Austrians could now focus all their energy against Prussia. At the end of May 1745, the Austrian-Saxon forces marched into Silesia, but within a week they were attacked by Frederick’s forces on 4 June at the battle of Hohenfriedberg, some 70 kilometres west of Breslau, when some 118,000 men battled each other. In this clash 59,000 Prussians fought an equal-sized force of Austrian and Saxon soldiers and won in a particularly brutal battle. Although the Prussians lost 4,800, the opposition recorded 8,600 dead or wounded and a further 5,000 taken prisoner. The clash was so violent that, despite the theoretical Prussian victory, the enemy were not pursued.50 The opposing armies clashed again at Soor (modern-day, northern Czech Republic) at the end of September, when 22,500 Prussian soldiers went head-to-head against 40,200 Austrians

and Saxons. Again, Frederick won the day (with 850 killed and 3,050 missing or wounded Prussians, as opposed to 7,440, dead, wounded or missing Austrian-Saxons). A further clash occurred at Hennersdorf (modern-day south-west Poland) in late November, before the battle of Kesseldorf (near Dresden), as the last major battle of 1745 occurred on 15 December, as the forces of Maria Theresa wheeled towards invading Brandenburg itself. Of this last battle for the year, 32,000 Prussians, again, defeated a numerically larger force from Saxony and Austria of 35,000 men (with 5,100 killed and wounded for the Prussians as opposed to 10,500 dead, wounded and captured for the opposition). With this victory, Frederick’s forces now swung around, went forward and occupied Dresden. This city surrendered without a fight, as so many bodies of its soldiers were on the battlefield nearby.51 All sides were exhausted. Of those still in the fight, this was most obvious with Saxony and Britain, who was threatening to end subsidies to Austria (and was actively exploring a relationship with Frederick)52 unless peace was reached. This conclusion left Frederick ‘the Great’ (as his people now called him) with the upper hand, although Austria, also, could see the value of peace, thus allowing it to fight France unhindered by other enemies. The result was the Treaties of Dresden (with Austria, as well as Saxony) that were concluded at the end of December 1745.53 These ended the killing between Prussia and their enemies Austria and Saxony. The terms of this agreement had Maria Theresa, again, recognising Prussian sovereignty over Silesia and Glatz. Saxony also agreed to pay some reparations to Prussia. In exchange, Frederick promised neutrality in any remaining conflicts Austria was engaged in. He also agreed to accept the recent election of Francis Stephen (the husband of Maria Theresa) as Holy Roman Emperor (as Francis I) who had been elected without the votes of Prussia. In Frederick’s mind, this did not mean that he was beholden to the Emperor, only that they were equals.54

9.

Bonnie Prince Charlie

The last significant conflict of 1745, which by the end of that year had the British authorities very nervous, was the Jacobite Uprising. Before this point, for Britain, there had been some good news. This included the capture of the French fortress of Louisbourg on Cape Bretton island (above Nova Scotia) where what should have been a much greater stronghold surrendered after only 53 killed and 95 wounded (which was less than the attackers). In addition, the British also captured the French half of Saint Martin (in the Caribbean).55 This good news for 1745 had to be offset against the bad news. Charles Edward Stuart (the ‘Bonnie Prince’) had landed in Britain and announced he was ‘home’,56 thus sparking another Jacobite uprising. Charles Edward was the Catholic son of James Francis Stuart (the Old Pretender who had attempted the same trick in 1715) and grandson of the exiled English King James II. His goal was to succeed where others had failed and topple Protestant George II and the Hanover line that was now on the British throne. In so doing, the Jacobites believed that their quest was both noble and just, as they believed that ‘the Elector of Hanover’57 (like the monarchs William, Mary, Anne and George I before him) had illegally

and wrongfully usurped the Crown of Britain. The French appear to have been planning this invasion as early as 1744 but were not able to action it until the summer of 1745. When the invasion did occur, it was with the help of French privateers, not the French navy (as Louis XV was uncertain how far, and in what form, he should support Charles Edward). Nonetheless, the fact that Charles originally set out with two ships, one a leased French battleship with French sailors manning it, and weapons on both vessels from French arsenals for his supporters, made it difficult to ignore French complicity in the adventure.58 Although Charles Edward safely landed at Eriskay on 23 July, the forces of volunteers he hoped would join him were missing due to bad weather. Luckily for him, as there were few Crown soldiers to prevent him in the region, the numbers quickly flocked to the Jacobite cause. He was able to march to Edinburgh, and the city surrendered to him with relative ease. It was not until 21 September that he faced his first assembled enemy at Prestonpans, where 2,500 Jacobites decimated the opposition force of 2,300. Charles Edward’s reward for this victory was not only a sudden growth in prestige, but also an official commitment from France in the Treaty of Fontainebleau on 24 October to ‘friendship, good neighbourliness, and alliance’59 and assistance ‘to act against their mutual enemy’.60 This meant that the French, from the end of October, also now started to make new plans to invade England. Simultaneously, Charles Edward started to move his forces south, capturing the stronghold of Carlisle in the middle of November and was then warmly received in Manchester at the end of the same month. A week later, some 9,000 Jacobite soldiers had advanced as far as Derby.61

10.

Expansion and Exhaustion

The end of 1745 was the high tide mark of the Jacobite uprising. Despite reaching as far south as Derby, things went into reverse before Christmas 1745 because Charles Edward was aware that the Royal Navy had stopped French forces landing in support. He also knew the Jacobite numbers had not grown strongly as they marched south, and morale was beginning to weaken. The lack of enthusiasm expanded when they considered how far they were from their more natural supporters in Scotland, and how vulnerable they could be to the 30,000 government soldiers preparing to meet them. To these concerns, Charles Edward turned around and retreated to Scotland. The stronghold of Carlisle fell back to government forces at the very end of December. At the same point, forces loyal to the Hanover regime began to reclaim Scotland. Although some of these attempts ended up being government defeats (such as at Falkirk Muir, when 8,000 Jacobites got the better of 7,000 government soldiers, but could not follow through), as a rule, the period was one of retreat and attempted sieges (such as Stirling castle and Fort William) which failed.62 The final battle was at Culloden, on 27 April 1746. This, the last pitched battle on British territory, had 7,000 Jacobites take the field against a slightly larger British army. The Jacobites were roundly beaten (with some 2,000 killed or wounded, as opposed to only 50

government dead and 250 wounded). Although Charles Edward escaped to France, this was the last serious throw of the dice for the Jacobites in their attempt to re-install the House of Stuart on the British throne. To ensure it was not repeated, the suppression of the those who supported the invasion that followed was brutal. The defeated were seen as rebels, not lawful belligerents deserving of what rudimentary limits on warfare existed at this point. Some 120 Jacobite leaders were executed, just over 900 sent to penal colonies, and a further 3,471 were detained in British jails, of whom over 600 died in detention. The 1715 Disarming Act was reiterated, and Highland Dress (including tartan or a kilt) was made illegal as part of a programme to stop separatism in Scotland. In addition, to ensure that the exercise was not repeated, the English Parliament consented to something they had long feared were the tools of kings: the formation of a standing army stationed within Britain.63 Although the British had successfully suppressed the Jacobite uprising in 1746, they suffered losses to France in India. Originally, as this conflict started to break out, the plan the French proposed in 1744 was to keep the opposing enclaves in that part of the world neutral. However, the British could not accept this deal. In terms of the conflict that followed, although the British had excellent ports in Bombay and Calcutta, they had poorly defended ports on the Coromandel coast, at Madras (modern-day Chennai) and Cuddalore. It was in this weak area that the French struck in September 1746, when a force of 10 ships and 2,000 soldiers captured Madras. Although the French were able to hold onto this despite the anger of the Indian overlords and British attempts to recapture it, they could not advance any further. This was most evident when their repeated attempts to take the remaining British settlement at Cuddalore failed.64 Similarly, British attempts with 14 men-of-war and 4,000 troops failed to gain distant Mauritius (off the African coast) where the French fort withstood the siege against it. Although this attempt was a failure, the underlying trend was that the Royal Navy was gaining the upper-hand and was increasingly restricting the ability of both France and Spain to operate on the open oceans. The evidence of this was in the battles of Cape Finisterre (off the west coast of Spain), at which in the first (14 May 1747) and second (14 October) incidents, French convoys were badly mauled, losing six of their ships and 4,000 men. Things then became even worse for the French navy, with their attempt to send a squadron to recover Louisbourg and Acadia in Canada. This expedition of 65 ships and 3,500 men, due to storms, disease and the British navy, failed to even make it to its destination, with most (2,300) dying before even seeing Louisbourg.65 In Italy, in early 1746, as there was peace with Prussia, the Austrians could now divert more resources to this theatre to help the beleaguered Sardinians. Attacks followed at Asti, before they reconquered the duchy of Milan and took control of most of northern Italy. The culminating battle at Piacenza in the middle of June 1746, when 40,000 French and Spanish faced off against 45,000 Austrians, resulted in an Austrian-Sardinian victory, with the defeated losing an estimated 13,000 men (dead, wounded or captured). The retreating force were struck again at Rottofreddo on 10 August 1746, where they suffered another 6,000 losses. Although this allowed the Austrians to control most of northern Italy and occupy the Republic of Genoa, it was a very difficult province to hold, and a serious rebellion drove them out in December 1746. By the following year, although Genoa could not be retaken by

the Austrians, neither could the French wipe out the resistance of Sardinia. This was spectacularly shown when a much larger force of 40,000 French soldiers was defeated by 7,000 opposition at Assietta on 10 July 1747 (inflicting casualties of nearly 6,400, for the loss of only hundreds of their own). Thereafter, only desultory campaigns followed.66 In the Austrian Netherlands and the United Provinces, the French were making strong advances, carrying all before them. In late February 1746, Brussels surrendered, followed by Louvain, Malines and Antwerp by the middle of the year. Mons fell in July, Charleroi in August, and Namur in September. At Rocoux, near Liege, on 11 October, an incredible 200,000 men were assembled to battle each other. Here, 120,000 French soldiers overcame a combined force of 80,000 Dutch, British, Austrians and Hanoverians, killing perhaps 1,600 of them and wounding or taking prisoner a further 5,400. Although not a knock-out punch, this was, like Fontenoy, a massive victory for the French, after which the allies had to regroup, and promise more money and men, to stop the French advance. At the battle of Lauffeld in early July 1747, in what was the biggest concentration of opposing soldiers in the entire conflict, some 225,000 men fought in the last major land battle of the war. In this clash, 125,000 French soldiers defeated an opposing force of 100,000 English, Dutch and Austrian men with the French suffering over 10,000 casualties (dead, wounded and prisoners) and their opposition, 5,800. The French then besieged Maastricht and Bergen, with the latter falling in September (and the former holding out until just before the final peace in 1748).67

11.

The TREATY OF AIX-LA-CHAPELLE

Peace was finally agreed because the parties in southern, central and western Europe had fought themselves to deadlock, and were exhausted by the cost of soldiers and money. Moreover, there was now a risk that the conflict could expand yet again, this time back into northern Europe (after Russia and Sweden were roping themselves into alliances and about to dive into the conflict on opposite sides).68 The main belligerents began talking to each other in early 1748, with the broad plan of peace set out in late April. Five months later, the Peace of Aix la Chapelle was concluded on 18 October1748. This brought a ‘universal and perpetual peace’ and ‘lasting and sincere friendship’69 between Britain and the United Provinces on one side and France on the other. Two implementation treaties were signed at Nice on 4 December and 21 January 1749. These were signed by Austria, Spain, Sardinia, Modena and Genoa. The foundations for peace was an acknowledgement of the earlier treaties of 1648 (Westphalia), 1678 and 1679 (Nijmegen), 1697 (Ryswick), 1713 and 1714 (Utrecht and Baden), the Triple Alliance of 1717 and the Quadruple of 1718, and that of Vienna of 1738. All these were confirmed to, ‘serve as a basis for the general peace and to the present treaty’.70 To move back to these earlier agreements meant, in large part, that there was not a lot of movement of territory, and restitution as opposed to digestion, was the rule. Thus, ‘all

territory conquered since the outbreak of this present war, both in Europe and in the East and West Indies, shall be restored to its rightful sovereign’.71 In the West Indies this meant that no territories changed hands, and four disputed islands (Dominica, St Lucia, St Vincent and Tobago) were declared ‘neutral’ to which both parties promised to evacuate them. In Europe, France had to give up all her recent conquests in the Austrian Netherlands and the United Provinces. Conversely, the United Provinces returned Bergen and Maastricht, while Britain and France did the same for those areas they had acquired in North America and India (Louisbourg back to the French, Madras in India back from the British). Britain was also managed to retain the trade in slaves with the Asiento (and it was not transferred to France as the French originally desired).72 The area where a significant transfer of territory was reconfirmed was with Silesia and Glatz. These acquisitions settled in 1745 at Dresden, were underlined in the 1748 Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. This meant that Frederick got to keep Silesia.73 Prussia took pride in this result, being perhaps the overall winner in terms of outcomes. Frederick the Great’s conquest, and retention, of Silesia, was unlike all the achievements of the other belligerents. This acquisition increased the population of Prussia by roughly 50 per cent, and its public revenues by 33 per cent. This success meant he, and others, saw him as an equal in central Europe. Although he had made some concessions with regard to Maria Theresa and her husband Francis in terms of the Holy Roman Empire, he was increasingly disdainful of this historic entity, to which, in 1750, he ordered that the customary prayer for the Emperor in Prussian churches to be dropped, ‘as an antiquated and stupid usage’.74 In Italy, the settlement was especially important as it would set the scene for the relative peace for the next five decades between the two kingdoms, the smaller duchies, the three ageing republics and the Papal states that shared this complicated piece of geography. All of this occurred because, for once, the two great trouble makers, France and Austria, had ceased to compete for the Italian satellites. This occurred because Maria Theresa yielded the Duchies of Parma, Piacenza and Gustalla (a tiny fief within the duchy of Modena). These were to be, ‘handed over to … Don Philip, as part of his dominions’75 but were to be forfeited if he died without children or became King of Spain. The Duke of Modena was reinstated to what he possessed before the war, as was Genoa.76 The King of Sardinia was confirmed in what he held before, and after, his adventures in 1743, save Finale (which remained in the hands of Genoa).77 In terms of dynasties, the recognition of the Hanover line on the British throne was endorsed, as it had been in 1718, with the difference that France now agreed to expel the ‘Pretender’ in even clearer language than in the past.78 Although Maria Theresa was riled by the loss of Silesia (and a feeling that their core interests had been sacrificed by their allies), the Pragmatic Sanction79 had finally been endorsed in a powerful international treaty. Moreover, she, as the only ever female Habsburg, was fully in control of her realm, while her husband was now at the helm of the Holy Roman Empire (which was accepted in the 1748 peace).80 Thus, although having lost a bit to Prussia (Silesia) and Spain (in north Italy), Austria-Hungary did not feel defeated. Overall, the deal was viewed positively in Britain, and they, having moaned about their

allies, took prestige from the outcome. This pride was (and still is) well reflected in the decision by George II to commission George Handel to compose a special piece – Music for the Royal Fireworks – to celebrate the conclusion of the peace. However, while the British were celebrating, the French were angry. In France, the deal was viewed poorly as they felt they had been let down by their ambassadors and Louis XV, despite having ended the conflict largely on a winning note, had to give back much of what France had conquered. Sardinia was indignant as she had lost territory in the Duchy of Piacenza, which had been promised to her in 1743. Spain had largely achieved her goals, and obtained more territory in Italy, but was angered there was nothing about the return of Gibraltar or Minorca, nor was their mention of the considerations that had given rise to the war of Jenkin’s Ear. Conversely, the United Provinces, where much of the killing had been done, were exhausted in every sense by decades of warfare, of which this last one had nearly completely destroyed them.81

12.

Conclusion

The war of Austrian Succession was a terrible example of conflict based around the rights and interests of absolute monarchs and rulers, and how when these became entangled in a web of foreign alliances, the death tolls, and geographical reach of conflicts (with killing in Europe, the New World, India and even the coast of Africa), could suddenly expand. The deaths of perhaps 500,000 people, and 300,000 or so wounded or missing, were the price of this particular example. The root cause of the entire war was the ambition of Frederick II to take a bite out of the inheritance of Maria Theresa, who had achieved power via the Pragmatic Sanction (that her father had spent decades building). Frederick’s actions propelled leaders of Bavaria, Saxony and, by alliance, France, to also see what could be achieved. While Prussia would initially make peace with Austria relatively quickly (it would reenter, and re-exit, the conflict with different dance partners), the war expanded sideways, especially in Italy and the New World. This occurred as Spain joined France, while Britain (and the United Provinces) joined Austria, as a way to protect the interests of their King George II in Hanover while also offering the opportunity to war against France. Part of the price for this joining the War of Austrian Succession was that Britain, through the intervention of Bonnie Prince Charlie, also suffered its last full-scale invasion, as justifications of dynasty battled over that land. Peace was found before the war could expand yet again (as Russia and Sweden hovered on the sidelines), in what was largely a revision to the status quo. The only real changes were with Prussia (which could keep what it took in 1740 when the entire war was triggered), and Italy where some titles and dynastic strings were changed, on behalf of their Spanish and/or Austrian proxies, delivering a peace which would last almost five decades. Politically, Britain, France, Spain, Prussia and Austria were all buoyed by the adventure of the War of Austrian Succession. None of them was at the point of the United Provinces, which was so damaged by the conflict that they began to back themselves into a corner of future neutrality. In this way, peace of Aix-la-Chapelle was little more than the bell ringing

between rounds in a very bloody boxing match.

1 White, M (2011). Atrocitology: Humanity’s 100 Deadliest Achievements. (Text, Melbourne). 252. 2 See pages 96–102. 3 Symcox, G (1974). War, Diplomacy and Imperialism. (Walker, NYC). 74. 4 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 303–15; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 258; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 110; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 294–95, 300–1; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution, 1763–1789. (Harper, NYC). 74. 5 Quote from Frederick William, as in Dorn, W (1963). Competition for Empire: 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 136. 6 See the 1737 Renewal of the Relationship between the Emperor and Prussia, as at 35 CTS 89. 7 Frederick, as noted in Gooch, G (1990). Frederick the Great. (Hippocrene, London). 4. 8 Frederick, as recorded in ‘Frederick the Great Plans His Coup’. This is reprinted in Macartney, C (ed.) The Habsburg and Hohenzollern Dynasties in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. (Harper, NYC). 326. 9 See the Treaty between France and Prussia, as at 35 CTS 343. 10 See the 1740 Treaty for the Renewal of the Alliances between Prussia and Russia, as in 36 CTS 99. 11 Maria Theresa, as noted in Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 42–43. See also Dorn, W (1963). Competition for Empire: 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 138–39, 142. 12 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 248–50; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 413; Mitford, N (1970). Frederick the Great. (Hamilton, London). 99, 103. 13 These quotes are from Frederick’s Offer to Maria Theresa is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Selection Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 8. 14 Maria Theresa, as in Dorn, W (1963). Competition for Empire: 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 141. 15 See the Treaty of Defensive Alliance between France and Prussia, as in 36 CTS 217. 16 Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 54–55, 58. 17 See the Convention between Britain and Austria, 36 CTS, 225. 18 Black, J (1990). ‘On the Old System and the Diplomatic Revolution of the Eighteenth Century’. The International History Review. 12(2): 301, 313; Robertson, J (1919). ‘The English Attack on Cartagena in 1741’. The Hispanic American Historical Review. 2(1): 62–71. 19 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 140–42. 20 Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 260; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 332–33, 358. 21 See the Treaty between Bavaria and Saxony, as in 36 CTS 231. Also, Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 250–52. 22 See the ‘Election of a Bavarian Emperor’ reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Select Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 10–11. Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 414. 23 Maria Theresa, as quoted in Mitford, N (1970). Frederick the Great. (Hamilton, London). 105, 116. 24 For the new powers of the Hungarian Diet, see ‘the Diet of 1741’. This is reprinted in Macartney, C (ed.) The Habsburg and Hohenzollern Dynasties in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. (Harper, NYC). 132–34 25 See the Convention between Hungary (Empire) and Sardinia, as at 36 CTS 259. 26 See the Articles of Peace between Austria and Prussia, as at 36 CTS 409. 27 See the Convention between Britain and Austria, 36 CTS 283.

28 See the Treaty of Defensive Alliance between Britain and Prussia, 36 CTS 497. Also, Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 144–45; Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 60– 63. 29 See the 1742 Convention of Alliance between Britain and Russia, 37 CTS 37. The 1741 treaty between Russia and Britain is at 36 CTS 151. These two arrangements built on a 1734 treaty of commerce, as at 34 CTS 211. 30 Mitford, N (1970). Frederick the Great. (Hamilton, London) 117–20; Dorn, W (1963). Competition for Empire: 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC).147. 31 See McNeil, J (2004). ‘Environment, Epidemics and the Struggles for Empire in the American Tropics, 1650–1825’. Magazine of History. 18(3): 9–13. 32 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 147–50; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 415. 33 This quote is from the preamble of the 1743 Treaty of Worms. This is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 355, 356. 34 Ibid. 35 Lodge, R (1929). ‘The Treaty of Worms’. The English Historical Review. 44(174): 220–55. 36 The 1743 Fontainebleau Treaty of Alliance between Spain and France. This is reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 106. 37 Ibid, art 3. 38 Ibid, art 4. 39 Ibid, art 6. 40 Ibid, art 8 41 Ibid, art 10. The language from this article is taken from the 1743 treaty, as reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 66. 42 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 149–52, 156; Mitford, N (1970). Frederick the Great. (Hamilton, London) 135. 43 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 256. 44 Ibid, 257–58. 45 See the Articles for Peace between Austria and Bavaria, as in 37 CTS 331. 46 Treaty of Quadruple Alliance, at 37 CTS 307. 47 Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 134–37; Buchan, B (2011). ‘Warfare and Civilisation in Enlightenment Thought’. Alternatives: Global, Local, Political. 36(1): 64–71; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 416, 417. 48 The 1745 Treaty of Alliance and Subsidy between France, Naples, Spain and Genoa. 37 CTS 353. 49 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 256. 50 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 79. 51 Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 78–80, 85–88. 52 See the Preliminary Convention between Britain and Prussia 37 CTS 411. 53 The Treaty of Peace, Reconciliation and Amity between Prussia and Austria 37 CTS 429. The one with Saxony is in the same volume, at p 417. 54 Horn, D (1929). ‘Saxony in the War of Austrian Succession’. English Historical Review. 44(173): 33–47. 55 Dorn, W (1963). Competition for Empire: 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 158, 166. 56 McLynn, F (1991). Charles Edward Stuart. (Pimlico, London). 129. 57 Duffy, C. (2003). The’ 45. (Cassell, London). 101. 58 Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 73.

59 Art 1 of the Treaty of Fontainebleau, as reprinted in McLynn (F (1981). France and the Jacobite Rising of 1745 (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh). 239. 60 Ibid, art 2. 61 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 157, 165–66; Duffy, C. (2003). The’ 45. (Cassell, London). 11–23, 197, 207, 232–33, 261–70, 432–34, 500–25. 62 McGarry, S (2013). Irish Brigades Abroad. (History Press, Dublin). 115–20; Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 167–69; Duffy, C. (2003). The’ 45. (Cassell, London). 127–30, 298, 342–45. 63 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 79; Macrobert, A (2011). ‘The Escape of the Prince in 1746’. Historian. 110: 6–11; Hyman, R (2001). ‘Culloden’s Bloody Fields’. British Heritage. 22(2): 46–53; Gould, E (1991). ‘Dynastic Legitimacy, Militia Reform and Ideas of National Unity in England, 1745–1760’. The Historical Journal 34(2): 329–48. 64 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 421; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, Harlow) 92–93. 65 Dorn, W (1963). Competition for Empire: 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 166. 66 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 256. 67 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 79; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 261. 68 See pages 305–306. 69 Article 1 of the Treaty of Aix-la Chapelle. This quote is taken from the version recorded in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 109. A fuller version of the same treaty (and in older language) can be found in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 370. The preliminary articles and the associated declarations are reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 69–72. 70 Ibid, art I. 71 Ibid, art II. 72 Ibid, art X. See generally, Sheehan, M (2004). ‘The Sincerity of the British Commitment to the Maintenance of the Balance of Power, 1714-1763’. Diplomacy & Statecraft. 15(3): 489–506; Sosin, J (1957). ‘Louisburg and the Peace of Aixla-Chapelle’. The William and Mary Quarterly. 14(4): 516–35. 73 Ibid, art XX. 74 Frederick, as in Dorn, W (1963). Competition for Empire: 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 138; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 258; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 110; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 294–95, 300–1. 75 Treaty of Aix-la Chapelle, art IV. 76 Ibid, arts V and VI. 77 Ibid, art VII. 78 Ibid, art XI. 79 Ibid, art XIX. 80 Ibid, art XIV. 81 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 168–69.

VI The Seven Years War 1.

Introduction

T

1756 and 1763 is known as the Seven Years War. This conflict which followed in short sequence after the War of Austrian Succession was one of the bloodiest of all the conflicts of the eighteenth century. There were about 860,000 military deaths. France alone is said to have lost 200,000 either killed or wounded, with a further 80,000 taken prisoner. Prussia suffered exceedingly high losses. Of every 15 Prussian soldiers deployed at the start of the war, only one survived to witness its end. For the proxy allies (in both India and America), the figures are murky, and for associated civilian deaths in all areas, the figures are very patchy. Nonetheless, a total of 1.5 million (military and non-military) deaths is tagged to this conflict.1 This conflict was the sequel to the War of Austrian Succession. Like its predecessor, it was about opportunity and revenge, between predominantly autocratic rulers, who would try to take the lands or colonies or others. In the most extreme case, this was meant to be a war to the death for Prussia, with its corpse divided up amongst an even greater array of enemies than it fought in the War of Austrian Succession. The fact that it survived and made peace at the end was remarkable. Equally remarkable, was the success of Britain, which became the dominant power in North America and India. HE PERIOD BETWEEN

2.

The New Plan

For a few short years after the 1748 Treaties of Aix-la-Chapelle, peace appeared to be settling. This was evident as belligerents who would traditionally battle each other started to look more towards diplomatic, as opposed to military, solutions to solve their problems. This was evident with two treaties. The first calming measure was between Spain and Portugal (and their 1750 Treaty of Madrid to end border disputes between their colonies in South America).2 The second was between Spain, Austria and Sardinia (with their Treaty of Aranjuez of 1752 which settled all of their outstanding questions, and guaranteed the integrity of their respective possessions in Italy).3 The latter was particularly important as, following the framework peace with Aix-la-Chapelle, for the following half century Italy was

blessed with peace and territorial stabilisation – at a period when the rest of Europe was becoming mired in ever-bloodier conflicts. The point that Europe started on the route to the next war was in 1749, when the State Chancellor and Minister for Foreign Affairs for Austria, Wenzel Anton, the Prince of Kaunitz, argued what to many would have been a heresy. Not content with using the recent peace to build a platform for peace in the future, Kaunitz argued that Austria had its entire geopolitical paradigm – in terms of dealing with its foremost enemy of Prussia – upside down. He argued it was time for Austria to stop thinking of France as an enemy, but rather, unite with the French to fight Prussia. He argued only France was capable of meaningful help, as both Britain and the United Provinces were always interested in other things. Thus: The King of Prussia is to be counted our worst and most dangerous enemy and we cannot put up with the loss of Silesia, we must use constant and vigilant care to weaken the said King and particularly to regain Silesia …. The Maritime Powers cannot be counted upon at all … France must be won over by the sacrifice of a province in Italy or the Netherlands.4

Such a conclusion – that war between Austria and Prussia would be renewed, and the peace of 1748 was only transitory – would not have been news to Frederick II of Prussia. He himself recognised that because of the Prussian acquisition of Silesia, Austria was always going to be his greatest enemy. He expected war to break out again and planned accordingly, but he did not envisage that France would go from being his ally to his enemy. The French would also have been surprised at such a suggestion, as although Prussia was unreliable, it remained the best bulkhead against their traditional Habsburg enemies, and they were working towards enhancing their relationship with a commercial convention as late as February, 1753.5 Similarly, the British, also, at this early point of 1749 would not have guessed that they would go from having Austria as their closest European ally, to Prussia. Although the British were moaning about the subsidies that were spent on Austria and often felt that the Austrians did not meet their agreed commitments, there was nothing to seriously suggest that the existing patterns of alliance would be swapped. Accordingly, in late 1750, Britain acceded to the joint alliance shared by Austria and Russia,6 which was then updated in 1753.7

3.

Trouble in the Colonies

All three of the primary colonial areas that France and Britain shared, despite the protestations of peace made in 1748, were bumping into each other well before declared war broke out in 1756. Away from secure and fast lines of communications to their capitals, and often coupled with genuine uncertainties about what had been settled in recent peace treaties as well as murky national and local politics, tension was the rule, not the exception. It did not help that the colonies, with their trades in, inter alia, slaves, sugar, spices, tobacco and indigo were beginning to command huge profits, and thus feelings of pride, covetousness and jealousy began to emerge when thinking about areas that had been, until recently, barely viable.

In India, as discussed in Chapter XII the macro context was that the Mughal Empire had disintegrated from 1748. This resulted in serious questions of both succession and autonomy of the Indian princes, as they all struggled to adjust in the changing environment. In this sea change, the French and English backed and supported opposing contenders. Once their proxies were in power, the new regional Indian authorities granted rewards and liberties to their supporters. This meant, from 1751, while Europe was at peace, in faraway India, the French and British were, with the permission of their local Indian authorities, trying to blockade and battle each other (typically with a few hundred Europeans and a few thousand local sepoys in support). The British defeated the French and their allies at Covrepauk in early 1752, before breaking the siege around Trichinopoly and going on to capture the Mysore. Matters then started to escalate in 1753, as reinforcements began to arrive from Europe, and the proxies started to offer ever-greater numbers in support. Before matters could escalate out of control, and aware that another war could break out in Europe and pull India into the vortex, both the local French and the British authorities in India agreed, in 1754, to stop fighting, and made promises of neutrality in India if any future conflicts broke out in Europe.8 Although the tensions in India (and the Caribbean) were bad, it was in North America that the spark for the next global conflict would come. On one side, the 13 English colonies holding 20,000 soldiers and 22,000 colonial volunteers possessed relatively autonomous settlements with seaports and commercial communities that rivalled those of England, with an expanding agricultural population that kept pressing inland. On the other side, the French occupation of the waterways of the St Lawrence, the Great Lakes and the Mississippi reflected French ambitions. However, unlike the English, the French colonies were much more economically centralised, consistent in (Catholic) religion, and barely sustainable in financial terms. What they had in common was that both were friendly with some of the Indian tribes in the region, but not others, and both were tied (either by formal or informal arrangements) into sets of complicated relationships with indigenous groups who often fought each other, as much as the foreign colonists. The other matter the French and British both had in common was their certainty that undefined and overlapping claims to unchartered lands that the 1713 and 1748 peace treaties had not clearly defined, should fall to them. There were especially notable tensions around Acadia-Nova Scotia; over the boundaries between Canada, New York, and New England; and the Ohio River Valley.9 Acadia-Nova Scotia and the Ohio valley had not been ceded to Britain in the 1713 Treaty of Utrecht. The French claimed the land and began to build new outposts. They were determined not to allow the English to start to colonise the northern portions of modern Nova Scotia or the Ohio valley. Of the latter, in the early 1750s the French started to begin construction of a line of forts, all within present-day Pennsylvania, which they believed was their territory, as ‘the river Ohio and the rivers which fall into it unquestionably belong to France’.10 Conversely, the fear that gripped Britain and its American colonies was with the French controlling Quebec to the north and wanting to move up the Mississippi and then the Ohio from Louisiana in the south. There was a serious risk that the 13 colonies could be encircled. As the Lieutenant Governor of Virginia thought that these new French forts threatened the

claims of the Virginians and associated commercial bodies, in the autumn of 1753, he sent a young officer, George Washington, to deliver a letter to the French at one of the forts, demanding that they leave, informing them that they were on territory, ‘notoriously known to be the property of Great Britain’.11 The French politely refused to withdraw. Rather, they called for reinforcements and ventured out further into the disputed lands, where they found British settlers whom they informed must now submit to French authority. In turn, the Virginians, started building forts and, in early 1754, issued instructions to take defensive action against any attempt to interfere with this building and preparation. In response to these instructions, Washington’s forces of 50 men (including perhaps a dozen indigenous auxiliaries), fearing they were about to be attacked, ambushed 35 French Canadians who were believed to be scouting at Jumonville Glen, in late May 1754. Ten of the French-Canadians and their Indian allies were killed, 21 were taken prisoner, and a few escaped to tell the tale. The French response, in early July, was 800 French and Indians marching to Washington’s new fort, ‘Necessity’. Washington surrendered the fort to a clearly superior force and was allowed to leave the region (as opposed to being made a prisoner), because the French commander did not believe the two countries were yet at war.12 When the French made public their intention to send an additional 3,000 troops to reinforce their possessions in Canada, the British, on 27 April 1754, decided that if they were to win North America, they had to stop the French leaving, or in the words of the British cabinet, ‘these reinforcements must never reach their destination’.13 The English, who had earlier begun harassing French merchants ships found on the High Seas, duly attempted to stop the French military convoy which sailed on 18 May 1754, but only intercepted a small percentage of them, with most of them making it through to Quebec. The attempt to stop them, prior to war being declared, made Britain look like the aggressor. Of the ships and their cargoes that were stopped and confiscated, and the sailors and soldiers which were taken prisoner, France demanded their immediate return, warning that they would treat any failure of return as a declaration of war. They were not returned.14 Early in the following year, 1755, orders were given by the British authorities to drive the French from the Ohio and recover all the disputed forts. At the beginning of June, a British force marched out of Fort Lawrence, and then besieged and made a smaller French force at Fort Beausejour, who were guarding the isthmus between Quebec and Louisbourg (at the north eastern corner of Nova Scotia), surrender in the middle of June. With this area under control, the British then began a dedicated depopulation campaign, forcibly exiting over 14,000 Acadian/French origin people from Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island. These people were allowed to go either to the American colonies, England or France. This was deemed necessary so that the British authorities could ensure that absolute control over the region could be achieved. Meanwhile, further to the south, the British attempted to take Fort Duquesne (previously known as George Washington’s Fort Necessity). However, on 9 July 1755, some 1,300 British regulars were decimated (over 900 men were lost, dead or wounded) by a smaller force of only 900 French-Canadians and their Indian allies, thus leaving the Virginian-Pennsylvanian frontier defenceless.15

4.

Austria Backs Away from its Alliance with Britain

During much of 1755, Frederick, despite France being the primary ally of Prussia since 1741, was scathing of the French and the weakness they had shown towards the British. The British, meanwhile, were aware that their traditional allies, the Dutch, were rapidly diminishing in power, and their existing Continental ally (Vienna) was increasingly disgruntled by their existing relationship, as a shield against French ambitions. This became clear in June 1755 when Austria showed little willingness to carry out obligations under the Barrier Treaty,16 which had long been viewed as irksome and expensive by Vienna. Their ambassador then informed the British that: [E]verything England has done for the house of Austria at various times … [has been] … paid with the blood and ruin of her subjects; when all the time her allies were aggrandizing themselves and opening up new paths for their commerce and their enrichment.17

Conversely, the British felt that the subsidies that they paid the Austrians were too large, the effort the Austrians put in too small, and now there was a risk that all of the Austrian anger over Prussia and their acquisition of Silesia could pull Britain into another European war, which was not in their direct interest. It was in this unhealthy atmosphere of mistrust that Britain began to examine the possibilities of other ways to defend the Hanover Electorate that belonged to their monarch, George II.

5.

Britain Makes a Deal with Russia

Britain could see that tension with France was growing rapidly at the same time that its traditional alliance with Austria was withering. Accordingly, they had to quickly start making new alliances so that they could have a land ally on the Continent, in case conflict broke out. With this in mind, the first deal of note that Britain struck in 1755 was with the Landsgrave of Hesse on 18 June 18. With this arrangement, in exchange for a handsome annual subsidy, Hesse was to provide 8,000 troops, as a manifestation of their friendship, ‘in case the good of [George II’s] kingdoms and states should require this succour’.18 The second deal, of even greater significance, was the Anglo-Russian Subsidy Treaty which was settled on 30 September 1755. This was agreed to protect George II’s Hanover from external aggression. Britain’s earlier deals with Russia, which had all expanded in scope, from 1734, 1741 and 1742 hoped that the new alliance would build on the earlier platforms.19 With the new 1755 arrangement, the Russians promised to station 55,000 men towards the frontier of Livonia, for a large payment annually, but would only be put into, ‘activity … in case his Britannic Majesty, or any of his allies, should be attacked’.20 While the British saw this as a way to keep Hanover safe in a volatile region of the world, the Russians saw this treaty as an easy way to get the funds to maintain a substantial Russian force on Prussia’s eastern border without having to pay for it itself. This particularly suited Tsarina Elizabeth, who come to dislike Frederick because of the gossip he spread about her.21

6.

The TREATY OF WESTMINSTER Trumps that with Russia

Unbeknown to Russia, Britain was also negotiating with Prussia, to which the Treaty of Westminster was signed by Prussia and Britain on 16 January 1756. In this arrangement, both sides were aware of, ‘the differences which have arisen in America between [Britain and France] … and the consequences of which become every day more alarming, give room to fear for the public tranquillity of Europe’.22 The fear of both Prussia and Britain was that the conflict in other parts of the world could spread to Europe, and the territories of Germany in particular. In this geographical area, George, as Elector of Hanover (as well as King of Britain) was scared of the French, while Frederick was scared of the Russians and the Austrians. Frederick’s goal was to prevent his Prussian lands (in Germany) from being fought over or invaded by any number of countries in Europe which were angry with him. Equally, the goal of both George II and the British Parliament was to have a solid ally on the Continent in the next European war. Accordingly, the two sides agreed a, [P]erfect peace and mutual amity … so that neither shall attack, or invade, directly or indirectly, the territories of the other; but on the contrary, shall exert their utmost efforts to prevent their respective allies from undertaking anything against the said territories in any manner whatsoever.23

If, despite the best intentions of both, a conflict was to occur and either of their respective territories was invaded, then both agreed they would ‘unite their forces to punish this infraction of the peace and maintain the tranquillity of Germany’.24 In essence, and despite all the talk about the wider territories of Germany, this meant that Prussia would defend Hanover, and Britain (as the treaty was signed by George II as king of Britain, not George as the Elector of Hanover), would defend Prussia.25

7.

Misreading the Opposition

Neither Britain nor Prussia regarded this accord as a fundamental change of the alliance system, but merely an ad hoc addition to it, that would, hopefully, stabilise the region. The expectation was that France would like it because it would neutralise Europe, thus allowing them to concentrate on North America, and Austria would be happy because it would stop further aggression from Prussia into their territories. As such, this was not a long way from what was agreed in 1748, or in the arrangements that were emerging in the 1740s (where Britain tried to position herself between Austria and Prussia).26 These assumptions were spectacularly wrong. In fact, the words in the Treaty of Westminster triggered a sequence of events that resulted in another global conflict. Russia was offended, for instead of receiving English subsidies for an alliance against Prussia (as agreed in 1755), she now feared she faced the prospect of English hostility if she attacked Prussia (as Tsarina Elizabeth dreamed of doing). France was offended by the Treaty of Westminster, for Frederick had concluded (another) convention behind her back with an

enemy with whom she was already, de facto, at war with in North America. Worse still for the French, the effect of this agreement was to prevent her from invading Hanover (which Louis XV desired). The French anger was such that in early 1756, when the Prussians asked the French if they would like to renew their bilateral alliance with them, Louis XV said no. The French anger was outdone by that of the Holy Roman Empress Maria Theresa who explained to the British that she saw the Treaty of Westminster as an act of extreme betrayal, as her ally, Britain, had signed a treaty with her mortal enemy, Prussia, guaranteeing to defend Prussian territory which included recent acquisitions (Silesia) which Britain knew meant everything to Austria.27

8.

New Friends and New Neutrals: The FIRST TREATIES OF VERSAILLES

The Treaty of Westminster agreed by Prussia and Britain gave the impetus for Austria to talk directly to France, and make the new agreement that Wenzel Anton, the Prince of Kaunitz, had dreamed about for the last seven years. That new agreement was revolutionary, as in quick time, two enemies, the Bourbons and the Habsburgs, who had fought each other for hundreds of years, became allies.28 The proof of the new relationship were two treaties, signed between France and Austria at Versailles on 1 May 1756. The first treaty was a promise of neutrality, in that Louis XV committed he, ‘will not under any pretext or for an possible cause attack or invade the Low Countries or other Kingdoms, States and Provinces …’29 of Maria Theresa. Austria, for its part, made a reciprocal promise of neutrality. The second agreement, the Treaty of Defensive Alliance, was signed on the same day. This promised a ‘sincere friendship and perpetual union’30 between France and Austria, in which they pledged 24,000 soldiers to protect the territories of the other, as they then currently held (with the exception of the colonial conflict between France and Britain in America) ‘against the attacks of no matter what power’.31 Importantly, none of these articles suggested that France intended to attack Prussia first, in any form of pre-emptive strike. The United Provinces, clearly anticipating the coming Continental explosion, opted for neutrality. Their populace and leaders, despite decades of fighting with Britain since the 1690s were exhausted from the warfare, that was becoming increasingly violent. Now, in exchange for promises from Louis XV in the middle of June 1756 that he would not invade, while at the same time, utilising their shipping for commercial purposes, the Dutch promised neutrality, and would not loan the British the thousands of troops they requested. Although this change of stance from active ally to neutral bystander from their long-standing western ally greatly angered Westminster, and the British warned them about shipping French goods in times of war which would be deemed contraband, the Dutch did not change their minds.32

9.

The Deepening Conflict

In early April 1756, Britain dispatched 12 ships of the line to protect Minorca from a French attack. The French thought that Minorca, if taken, could be a useful bargaining chip in any forthcoming conflict. They also believed it could be an isolated event. The British, who knew the advance was coming, declared war on France on 17 May. Three days later, on 20 May, the two navies (with 13 battleships for the British, and 12 for the French) collided. The British fleet could not deflect the French, which damaged the British more than vice-versa (although none were sunk or taken), to which the British Admiral withdrew. This allowed 15,000 French troops to land, besiege, and conquer the British forces on Minorca, which surrendered at the end of June. This followed the French declaration of war against the British in the middle of June. The shock of the loss of Minorca was so great that in a wave of public hysteria in Britain, they executed their own Admiral (Byng) for his alleged failure to do everything possible to prevent defeat.33 In North America, once it was clear that the informal war was now formal, the killing accelerated. French and Native American raiders wreaked havoc, killing over 700 people in the provinces of Pennsylvania, Virginia and the Carolinas. During the same months, some 3,000 French soldiers and militia pushed south from their bases in Canada. Notably, on 10 August 1756, some 3,000 French soldiers and militia forced the surrender of a British force, perhaps one-third of that size (of which the French made casualties of about a tenth of the military defenders, and prisoners of the rest), at Fort Oswego (on the border of current-day New York state). This success meant the French could now interfere with British influence on Lake Ontario.34

10.

The Invasion of Saxony

Both Prussia and Austria were openly preparing for war with troop build-ups in the border regions. Frederick was particularly worried, as he calculated the odds were against him. From early August, he asked (three times) for unequivocal assurances from Maria Theresa that Prussia was safe. These assurances were not forthcoming. With the empty third reply, he informed those around him, ‘I am innocent of this war. I did what I could to prevent it’.35 He then decided that he had to strike first, before the overwhelming nature of the coalition against him was fully organised and ready to strike.36 Frederick the Great directed 70,000 men into Saxony on 29 August 1756. Announcing that the hostile intentions of the Holy Roman Empress had forced him into action despite his well-known love of peace, he told his sister he was off ‘to pay a little visit to his fat neighbour’, the Saxon Elector, Augustus III (who was also the king of Poland-Lithuania). His wife, Maria Josepha, was the cousin of Maria Theresa and friend of Louis XV. Frederick justified the invasion on the grounds of pre-emptive self defence arguing that, although Saxony was neutral on paper, in reality, it was an accomplice with Russia and Austria in a plot (which was never proven) against him.37 Proclaiming that he had no designs on their land, the Prussians swiftly took Leipzig and Dresden. The remaining Saxon army took refuge on the heights of Pirna, near Dresden,

where they hoped the Austrians would come to their rescue and save them from the 60,000 plus Prussians besieging them. When it was clear that the Austrians were trying to save Saxony (which he did not expect, thinking it was not of direct importance to Vienna), Frederick took his next step, which was to launch an invasion into northern Moravia. With this attack, on 13 September, he formally declared war on Maria Theresa, which he decried necessary, ‘to prevent the schemes of the Court of Vienna’.38 A fierce seven-hour battle against the Austrian army followed at Lobositz in Bohemia on 1 October. Here 28,000 Prussians won at least a nominal victory over the 34,000 Austrians (with the Prussians losing 2,800 and the Austrians 3,300). However, the Prussians were not able to advance further, so they retreated into Saxony. On 14 October the last clearly standing Saxon force capitulated, with 18,000 prisoners and 5,000 dead or wounded. With this defeat, Augustus III signed a treaty with Frederick. Augustus III was allowed to leave to live in Poland, and the surrendered Saxon army (despite loud international protests) would be incorporated into the Prussian military.39

11.

The Widening Conflict in India and North America

As the war on the Continent burst into action, similar developments followed for Britain in both India and North America. British forces were already being blooded in India before the Seven Year War broke out. Most notably, in 1756, the notorious Black Hole of Calcutta incident occurred.40 Although this was not done with the support of the French, by October of that year the French had allied with the local Nawab of Bengal, who was responsible for the atrocity. The following year, in 1757, the British struck. In early February, a small but very well-disciplined force of perhaps 1,070 European and 800 Indian Sepoy soldiers, supplemented by thousands of local fighters (fighting for the various allies), saw off an enemy force in the tens of thousands. From this victory, the British were able to capture Calcutta. The French (with their sepoys) then clashed with the British (and their sepoys) at Chandannagar in late March, before the larger battle of the (less than 1,000) British against the French (50) and Bengali (tens of thousands) forces, at the Battle of Plassey on 23 June. Here, the British artillery quickly gained the upper hand, after being wise enough to keep their gunpowder dry drying a rainstorm, and then quickly utilising it when the Bengal and French forces attempted to charge the British position, decimating the opposition, causing thousands of casualties.41 Although the British had success in India, the same could not be said for their experiences in North America in 1757, during which they suffered two notable losses. First, they lost Fort Carillon (on the shore of Lake Champlain between the British colony of New York and the French colony of New France) in August 1757, when an overwhelmingly strong force of 7,000 French soldiers, colonials and Native Americans forced the inhabitants to surrender. This went badly for the defeated to which, perhaps, 100 people were killed as some of the indigenous tribes had not consented to this surrender. In the same time period, the siege of Fort William Henry (at the southern end of Lake George, below Lake Chaplain),

resulted in a similar, but much more notorious outcome. This occurred when the British and the civilians surrendered under the terms of safe conduct away from the area, offered by the French. However, the terms were not accepted by the allies of the French (the Mohawk, Abenaki and others) who attacked the retreating column of soldiers and civilians, as well the wounded who had been left behind in the fort for the French to look after. Of the 2,308 who had surrendered under the promise of safe conduct, at least 69 were killed along the road, and more than 100 were counted as missing. Soon after, French naval forces successfully defended the fortress of Louisbourg, thus securing the seaward approached to Quebec. However, progress was slowed rapidly as smallpox broke out amongst many of the Native American tribes, which may have been intentionally introduced to the region.42

12.

The Expansion of the Anti-Prussian Alliance

The other question that Britain was struggling with, as their military forces were stretched around the world to their various colonial interests, was what to do about the war on the Continent? This was pressing as once it was clear that the war was fully on, Frederick appealed to Britain for help on the justification that his loyalty to Britain had provoked the entire situation. The British were split on what to do. Some argued a war on the Continent would distract French forces from the colonies, but sticking close to Frederick could be the best chance of ensuring that Hanover would survive. Others took a different view, in that Britain had enough on its plate already. The sceptics argued Frederick was too dangerous to be associated with, and that their recent treaty with him was only for defensive, not offensive purposes. They added that the best way for King George II’s Hanover to survive the conflict was through a treaty of neutrality and kept at arm’s length from Britain.43 This last option was actively explored. However, the possibility of a neutral Hanover collapsed when the Austrians said they would only accept the neutrality of Hanover if they and their French allies could traverse Hanoverian territory, to attack Prussia. The English King, and also Elector of Hanover, George II, said no. As the neutrality option was not possible, Britain agreed (in early 1757) to establish a force of 50,000 to 60,000 men as an ‘Army of Observation’ for the defence of Hanover. The vast majority of these soldiers were Brunswickers, Hessians and Hanoverians. They were placed under the command of the Duke of Cumberland, the son of George II. The British Parliament also granted Frederick a handsome subsidy.44 Feeling increasingly emboldened, on 18 April 1757, some 115,000 Prussian soldiers in four separate columns marched into Bohemia. The battle of Prague occurred on 6 May when about 124,000 men (64,000 Prussian, 60,000 Austrian) clashed. Although both sides suffered terribly as the round-shot, canister and musketry created casualties of nearly 50 per cent in the leading regiments of both sides, the Prussians got the upper hand. Although Frederick’s forces suffered more (14,300 casualties for Frederick and 13,400 for the opposition), the Austrians were forced into an orderly retreat, moving backwards into Prague which, in turn, was then besieged by the Prussians.

As Frederick’s troops were besieging Prague, the diplomats working against him were busy. The first agreement, in late January 1757, was the Renewal of the Defensive Alliance between Austria and Russia.45 The second, in late March, had Sweden join with France, Austria (and Russia) against Prussia (despite their recent 1747 defensive alliance with Prussia and their queen being the sister of Frederick).46 Third, on 1 May, the so-called Second Treaty of Versailles47 was concluded. In addition, some 30-odd princes or nobles within the Holy Roman Empire rose against Frederick. Of note, Cologne, the Palatinate and Bavaria, committed over 30,000 men to fight Prussia.48 This clutch of treaties went further than their recent predecessors. That is, even though Louis had already deployed thousands of troops (well above the treaty stipulation of 24,000) to help defend Austria, the Second Treaty of Versailles, went further, with France agreeing to assist Austria in regaining Silesia, and ensure the total destruction of Prussia. In addition, the proposed division of Prussia (between Austria, France, Russia, Sweden and Saxony) was set out. The Russians were expected to get East Prussia, although a section, Glatz, was pencilled in for the Polish-Lithuanian crown. The Swedes expected to re-acquire some of the Pomeranian territory they had lost to Prussia post 1648. The Austrians promised France they would hand over the core of the Austrian Netherlands in the form of four cities in Belgium, and Don Philip (the Bourbon son of the Spanish King), the Duke of Parma, could be transferred to govern these areas with full sovereign rights. Maria Theresa would receive Parma back into the Habsburg basket. To help with the goals, Maria Theresa was to receive 105,000 French troops, and 12 million florins per year, until Silesia was returned to Austria, while the Austrian troops abandoned the Barrier Fortresses, allowing them to be occupied by the French.49 This diplomatic good news for Austria and France was matched by news on the battlefield, that after a nine-day siege, the bombardment of Prague had stopped, as the Prussians had run out of ammunition (before the Austrians ran out of buildings). Upon hearing the news that a relief force of Austrians was coming to break the siege, Frederick had to split his forces to engage the rescuers. The two sides then collided 55 kilometres from Prague, at Kolin. At this battle on 18 June, 34,000 Prussians fought nearly 54,000 Austrians and, despite his caustic encouragement, (‘Bastards, do you want to live forever’)50 this time Frederick’s forces were badly mauled, with about 14,000 casualties, compared to about 8,000 for the Austrians. This major defeat forced the Prussians to fully withdraw from Bohemia.51

13.

Extreme Pressure Applied on Prussia

In early June 1757, the French army began to advance towards Hanover which was now defended by the Army of Observation and the associated Hanoverian forces. The major clash occurred at the end of July 1757, when the Duke of Cumberland suffered a defeat at Hastenbeck. Although the actual British-Hanover losses were relatively small (about 300 killed, 900 wounded and 200 missing), the sheer size of the French forces (63,000 as opposed to 36,000, with triple the number of canons) sent the survivors fleeing northward.52

With this defeat, the Duke of Cumberland was then given authority by his father, George II, to negotiate a separate peace for the Electorate of Hanover. His instructions were to save the army and protect the Hanoverian subjects from the ‘misery and slavery’53 of occupation. The result of the discussions was the Convention of Kloster-Zeven, which was concluded on 10 September 1757. This effectively removed Hanover from further conflict. In exchange, the foreign (British) soldiers in the conflict were to be disbanded, while the remaining Hanoverian forces were to be placed in a particular area. French troops were also allowed to remain in Hanover, and there was no exit date for the occupation. The convention was, in short, a treaty of surrender.54 Frederick received the news about the loss of Hanover as he was still walking back from his attempted invasion of Bohemia. Some of his forces in August narrowly avoided battle against overwhelming odds at Zittau, before 13,000 of his men were caught at Moys (today, Ujazd, west Poland) on 7 September, by an Austrian army double its size. The entire Prussian corps surrendered, rather than face certain annihilation. The surviving Prussians, in different corps, then retreated even faster into Silesia.55 As the French had advanced into Hanover, some 100,000 Russians had begun marching towards East Prussia. This geographically isolated area was easy to invade, and they crossed the frontier in early August. The Russians besieged and took Memel, one of the strongest Prussian fortresses, before colliding with the largest Prussian force of 25,000 men in the area, at Gross-Jagersdorf, at the end of August 1757. Here, the Russians, at more than double the size of the Prussian force (55,000/24,700), recorded a victory, having inflicted more than 4,600 casualties on their Prussian enemy, including 1,800 killed in action. However, the Russian commander was timid and did not pursue his advantage. He was cautious because he had lost more men than the Prussians, felt he was over-stretched in a foreign land, and was worried about domestic concerns in Moscow (the Tsarina was sick). To the great relief of Frederick, the Russian commander decided to reverse, rather than exploit the victory and what could have been the consumption of all of East Prussia before that winter had fully set in.56 Although the Russians did not exploit their victory in East Prussia, nearly two weeks later the Swedes added to the pressure. On 12 September, about 17,000 Swedish troops crossed the Prussian frontier into Pomerania and soon the entire frontier of north Prussia was under attack. Ten days later on 22 September, Sweden agreed a further treaty with Austria and France, whereby they promised to continue to attack Prussia that same autumn, with a force of 20,000 men.57 Frederick’s forces were stretched so thin that for one week towards the middle of October 1757, a Hungarian general quickly swung his hussar forces towards Berlin, and occupied the city for one night, before being paid off to leave, thus sparing the city.58 Despite these immense pressures, Frederick continued to fight. He struck back at Rossbach in Saxony (east of centre, near Leipzig, modern-day Germany), on 5 November 1757. This battle, the only one when the French and Saxon forces fought directly against the Prussians saw Frederick heavily outnumbered with his 21,000 men facing 40,000 French and associated troops from Saxony. Despite these odds, Frederick lost just over 500 men, while

the Franco-Austrian opposition recorded over 5,000 dead and an equal number taken prisoner. It was this battle, above all others, that Voltaire suggested was the day that German nationalism was born, thus changing the destiny of the country forever.59 A month later, on 5 December at Leuthen (present-day west Poland), Frederick repeated the same trick, but with even great numbers. In this battle, he ensured Prussian control over Silesia, Frederick was outnumbered, again, nearly two to one, 36,000 to 65,000. Nonetheless, he managed to completely destroy his opponent, inflicting 22,000 casualties or losses (3,000 dead, 7,000 wounded and 12,000 prisoners), for the price of only 6,300 of his own. He then proceeded to direct some of his men into eastern Pomerania, easily pushing back the Swedish forces in the area.60

14.

The Push Back

Frederick’s victories in 1757 left no-one in doubt about who was the most brilliant general on the Continent. With such results, Britain decided to double down on their ally. This support for Frederick came in two parts. First, at the end of November, the British refused to honour the Convention of KlosterZevern. This was a difficult choice, as George was wearing two hats: one as Elector of Hanover (which had surrendered to France), and the other, as king of Britain (which was fighting France). George resolved which hat to wear after strong pressure from the British Parliament and Frederick the Great, to which he denounced the (Kloster-Zevern) regime concluded by his son. King George argued that the treaty was void on two grounds. First, that his son had agreed to something – the ongoing occupation of Hanover by the French – that was not within his power to agree. Second, the French had breached the (Kloster-Zevern) agreement by disarming the British troops after the ceasefire, before they could return home. Thus, as the treaty was void, Hanover was free to re-enter the war when it suited them. After this decision was made public, they appointed a Prussian general as commander of the Army of Observation, and immediately launched a counter-offensive which pushed the French out of northern Germany and back across the Rhine.61 Second, on 11 April the following year (1758) the Anglo-Prussian Convention was signed.62 This had Britain provide Prussia with the largest annual subsidy that it had ever granted. Both sides also promised that neither side would make peace independently of the other, and Britain also committed to deploy troops to Europe (something it had previously steered away from) to directly supplement the army of Hanover, promising at least 50,000 on the Continent (this number would grow to 62,000 with an additional 12,000 added in 1759). They also promised 60,000 sailors, ‘which shall act with the utmost vigour against the common enemy, in concert with the King of Prussia’.63 At the end of the same year, on 7 December, the British would promise to help Frederick: [T]o defend himself against the numerous enemies who have invaded his dominions; and being thus obliged to enter into new measures with his Britannic Majesty … in order to provide … for their mutual defence and common safety.64

In terms of military campaigns, the year 1758 saw a rise and fall in the fate of Prussia. At the beginning of April, the Austrians lost Schweidnitz (their last foothold in Silesia). On other fronts, at Krefeld (modern-day west Germany) on 23 June, some 32,000 Prussian, British and Hanoverian troops would defeat a larger force of 50,000 French, inflicting at least 3,000 casualties. However, while advances were being made in one area, at the end of June, some 30,000 Prussians were defeated by a much smaller Austrian force, east of Prague at Domstadtl (taking casualties in excess of 2,000), forcing Frederick to retreat, thus abandoning his dream of directly invading Austrian territory.65 Frederick had two months to regroup, before on 25 August, he and 35,000 of his soldiers confronted the 43,000 advancing Russians just east of the Oder in Brandenburg-Neumark. This battle was significant because for most of the time the Russians had been advancing towards him (they had entered East Prussia in early 1758, before advancing towards entering Poland at the beginning of March) and had not been substantially confronted. Frederick stopped their progress at the battle of Zorndorf (modern-day Sarbinowo, Poland), when the Prussians faced off against enemy. This was a blood bath for both (16,000 Russian casualties, as opposed to 12,800 Prussian), from which Frederick took, in theory, the victory, stopping the Russian advance. The Prussians then clashed with Swedish forces on 26 September at Tornow, with 6,000 of Frederick’s troops eventually pushing out a smaller Swedish force. They clashed again at Fehrbellin on 25 September as the Swedes advanced on Brandenburg but were repulsed. This indecisive type of conflict changed in mid-October, when 80,000 Austrians and Russians caught a 35,000-strong Prussian army off guard at Hochkirch in Saxony. Although Frederick survived, some 9,000 of his men were killed or injured. Luckily for Frederick, the enemy did not advance further into Saxony, withdrawing into Austrian territory for the winter, however not before another Austrian force managed to advance as far as Dresden, bombard it, and then retreat when they heard Frederick was coming towards them.66 The British also battled hard in 1758. In India in the Bay of Bengal in late April, seven British battleships got the upper hand over nine French ones. A similar outcome was then recorded in the naval battle of Negapatam, where seven British battleships took victory from the eight opposing battleships. Meanwhile, on land, an 8,000-strong French force and their sepoys failed to retake Madras, and paid the price with about 1,200 casualties, against a force which was only half their size, but very well entrenched. The British also achieved success in Africa, where their six ships and 200 marines captured the French Fort Louis on the Senegal River. Then, at the end of 1758, the last French trading post in Africa, the Island of Goree (just off Senegal) surrendered, ending the trade in all African items, from slaves to gold, going to France.67 The tide was also moving back and forth in North America, with 1758 recording victories for both Britain and France. It began when French reinforcements were prevented from landing in Canada in a sea battle off Cartagena in late February. Although not great in naval losses (just three vessels), the French decision to turn around meant that the strategically significant Louisbourg (on the northern end of Nova Scotia) which had been defended so well the year before, could not be reinforced. The result was that during June and July 1758, the French defence was slowly ground down (over 6,600 surrendered), allowing the 20,000

British troops to tighten their grip in the area (and the future renowned explorer, James Cook, to map the region). However, as Louisbourg was being taken, the British tasted defeat as they attempted to regain Fort Carillion on 8 July, when a French army of only 3,600 men trumped a force nearly six times their size, after the British-led force was foolish enough to assault an entrenched French position bristling with artillery. For this mistake, over 1,000 were killed and a further 1,500 wounded.68 Despite this setback, the British went on to take Fort Frontenac (at the eastern end of Lake Ontario) at the end of August, and then, in mid-September, taking Fort Duquesene and laying the foundations for the modern city it was turned into, and namesake of the British leader, Pitt(sburgh). With this achieved, at the end of October the British organised a gathering, and treaty, with 13 of the major tribes of the area, including, amongst others, the Iroquois, Delaware and Shawnee. This treaty, in isolating French allies, specified that the said tribes would not fight for the French. In exchange, large blocks of land from Pennsylvania were given to the Iroquois, and other tribes obtained hunting rights in the Ohio valley, while the Crown promised to refrain from establishing colonial settlements west of the Allegheny Mountains.69

15.

A Good Year for Britain

By very end of 1758, the French could see which way the war was going. Accordingly, they re-orientated their efforts with Austria, with the Third Treaty of Versailles.70 Although they remained allies, this new deal reflected a much more circumspect French approach which followed Prussia not being squashed and the British starting to gain the upper hand. France, reduced its financial subsidies to Austria by a half, and her alliance with Austria was now limited to western Germany. France refused to guarantee the return of Silesia, and also renounced its expectation of the creation of an independent nation in the Austrian Netherlands (ceded by Austria) going to Don Philip, as promised a year earlier at the Second Treaty of Versailles. She also kept silent on the possibility of a separate peace with England. The clear thrust of the Third Treaty of Versailles was to free up more French resources to focus on their primary enemy, Britain, not their secondary enemy, Prussia.71 The recognition of their need to put more effort into fighting the British soon became glaringly obvious, as the French began to chalk up a series of defeats, especially with all the conflicts in their colonies. First, the French lost Guadeloupe in May 1759 (after nearly losing the profitable Martinique and St Dominique in January) as a British naval force of 5,000 men, albeit ravaged by disease (which killed about one-fifth of them), prowled the region, looking for targets in the Caribbean. The French also received news of another defeat in India as the British achieved victory at Masulipatam in late January 1759, where 350 Brits and 6,900 associated sepoys, saw off 600 French and 2,000 of their sepoys, inflicting large losses of about 1,500 on them. The Brits also had success in their naval battle at Pondicherry, where nine British battleships trumped 11 French ones, with the latter suffering 1,500 casualties.72 The French also continued to receive bad news from North America. Fort Niagara fell at

the end of July, after the 500 French defenders were overwhelmed by 4,000 British, American militia and their Iroquois allies. Louis XV then lost his prize North American jewel, Quebec. This began in the middle of 1759, when the British established positions on the Ile d’Orleans, across the St Lawrence River, allowing them to besiege Quebec. After the first attack at the end of July (and the British suffered just over 200 dead and an equal number wounded) the British turned to scorched earth tactics on the surrounding French population. The second attack, on the Plains of Abraham on 13 September 1759, saw the commanders of the 4,500 British regulars and the 3,500 French and associated forces, both killed in a battle which claimed just over 1,500 French casualties and 700 English casualties. The reward for the bloodshed was Quebec, the capital and largest city of New France, which accepted an honourable surrender on 18 September.73 Further bad news for the French concerned their intentions to invade Britain with the 17,000 men they had assembled for the purpose. The bad news began with a 52-hour bombardment of the port of Le Havre, the main construction site of the 250 landing craft. This destruction of the landing fleet was then accompanied by French defeats in the naval battles of Lagos Bay (near Portugal, 18 August) and then Quiberon Bay (near St Nazaire, France, 20 November) in what was the largest naval battle of the entire Seven Year War. Here, the two most important French forces were destroyed (with one-third of their 15 vessels and at least 500 men in the process in the first battle, and of seven of their 27 vessels, and perhaps 2,500 men in the second). When the 74-gun Thesee exploded having received a direct hit in its powder room, 580 of the 600 crew perished, and with them, any dream of a French invasion of Britain.74 There was also bad news for France in their attempts to hold Hanover. Initially the news on this front was positive, as the first major action on the Continent on 13 April 1759 at Bergen (in the suburbs of modern-day Frankfurt) was a success for France. In this battle, the 35,000 allied soldiers defending Hanover could not dislodge the 28,000 French. However, the French could not make sustained advantage of this win, and although they managed to take the fortress of Minden on 10 July, when 54,000 French were confronted on 29 July by the relief army of some 43,000 British, Hanoverians and Prussians, they (the French) were defeated, taking some 7,000 casualties (as opposed to 2,800 for the victors).75

16.

The Pressure on Prussia and Victories for Britain

Support for Frederick was critical in this period, for while the results of the war of 1759 were very good for Britain, they were not so encouraging for Prussia. Their dour forecast began at the Battle of Kay (in Poland) on 23 July 1759, when a Prussian army of 26,000 men attacked a much larger Russian force of 41,000. Their ambition was quickly dented by Russian firepower and tactics. The Prussians were defeated, losing perhaps 8,000 men in the process (compared to only 5,000 for the Russians). The result of Kay opened the door for the Russians to the Oder river. For Frederick, this defeat was direct evidence that he had to stop the Russians before they got any further. Accordingly, on 12 August at Kunersdorf (today, Kunowice in Poland), Frederick confronted

a combined force of (79,000) Russians and (19,000) Austrians, against his 49,000 Prussians. In the 15-hour clash of 147,000 men that resulted, Frederick lost just under half of his army with about 20,000 casualties (including 6,000 killed, almost including himself after a bullet hit the snuff box in his pocket), while the Russians and Austrians recorded over 18,000 casualties. This was, probably, the most significant loss Frederick ever suffered. The good news was that the Russians, at the outer end of their logistics, opted not to advance further at this stage. The bad news for Frederick was that on 20 November, at Maxen (in Saxony), a corps of 14,000 men sent to cause chaos between Dresden and Bohemia, was surrounded by a force three times its size and 13,000 men followed the order of their commander to surrender rather than fight. Maxen was not an isolated event. Two weeks later at Hussen, three more battalions surrendered to the Austrians. These acts of surrender, combined with the losses on the battlefield, reflected how poor morale was becoming. Even the staunchest supporters of Frederick, began to question whether it was wise to keep fighting or not. There was, however, no alternative as the soft explorations that the British made for peace came to nothing. Nonetheless, at the end of 1759, the British, again, reaffirmed their alliance with Frederick.76 However, a few months later, the Russians deepened their relationship with Austria,77 sensing that Frederick was now on the ropes. All and any help Frederick could obtain was essential for his survival, as the combined enemies pushed down upon him. In 1760 Frederick watched disasters at the battle of Landshut (when Prussia recorded 2,000 killed and 8,000 prisoners, out of a force of 13,000) on 23 June. The French then went on to capture Marburg, and the Swedes took a further part of Pomerania. Although the 30,000 Hanoverian and British force scored a victory at the end of July at Warburg against a larger French force of 35,000 men (preventing the French and Austrians forces linking up), the bad news continued to arrive in Berlin. The Austrians captured Glatz in Silesia, and then Frederick was forced at Liegnitz, on 15 August, to war against an army nearly twice the size (14,000/24,000) of his. Against the odds, Frederick won at Liegnitz, but the enemy were everywhere. On 9 October, Berlin was briefly occupied by 30,000 Russians and Austrians for two days (after fighting for five to get into it), before Frederick’s march back to the capital, scared the occupiers away.78 On the other front, a few weeks later in the middle of October, 26,000 Hanovarian forces at Kloster-Kampen were driven from the field by 45,000 French. Matters then culminated for that year of 1760 for Frederick, when 48,500 men fought an opposition of 52,000, in early November at Torgau (north-east of Leipzig). Again, despite taking heavy casualties (almost 17,000 Prussians were dead, wounded or missing), Frederick emerged victorious (making casualties of 4,260 of his enemy, and prisoners of a further 7,000). However, as the victory had come at such a high price, Frederick could barely pursue the defeated enemy.79 Unlike the Prussians, their allies, the British, were having a good war. In India, matters continued to go badly for the French. At the diplomatic level, the British were making alliances, such as that from 1759 with the Nizam of Hyderabad, to exclude the French from the Deccan. At the military level, another French defeat was recorded at Wandiwash/Vandavasi on 22 January, 1760. At this battle, some 2,000 British and 3,300

sepoys defeated a French force of roughly equal numbers, inflicting 400 casualties and taking a a further 160 prisoner. From this victory, the English sprang forward, overrunning much of the French territory in the region, taking Karikal, Mahe, and the port of Masulipatam, before penning the French into Pondicherry. This, then, allowed the British to start moving inland, to strike deals and alliances with other Nawabs in the region. Pondicherry itself fell after an eight-month siege at the beginning of 1761 (after which its commander was brought back to France, tried, blamed and executed). This loss signalled the end of French power in India.80 In the same period, the British also found success in North America. Here, when the French and their local militia staged a counter-offensive on the Plains of Abraham in the spring of 1760, although they had some success at the battle of Sainte-Foy on 28 April (and spilt even more blood than the original battle of the Abraham Plains the year earlier), they could not recapture Quebec. Simply, British naval superiority, as demonstrated at the battle of Neuville, meant that the French forces were isolated, while the British could be continually rebuilt. The French forces then retreated to Montreal, where on 8 September, facing the hopelessness of their situation, they surrendered after a two-week siege and the arrival of a second British force outside their walls. This surrender followed the Battle of the Thousand Islands, when some 300 French-Canadians held back over 11,000 British, before being overwhelmed, and then the Battle of Restigouche when an ad-hoc French-Canadian flotilla tried to stop the final advance of the overwhelming British navy. Although the French would attempt (and fail) to grab St John’s Newfoundland in 1762, the war for eastern North America was, from late 1760, for all effective purposes, concluded. To the minds of many in Britain, this was the point to sue for peace as their war aims had been achieved, while the expensive war on the Continent, offered few benefits. Nonetheless, at the end of this year (1760), the Brits renewed their alliance with Prussia.81 This support was critical as Prussia was running out of both time and energy. An attempt to recapture Marburg was repulsed in early 1761 as was a similar attempt on Kassel, and then, knowing their enemy was more tired than they were, the French again attempted to invade Hanover. They had some success against the Hanoverian forces at Grunbuerg, but suffered a defeat in mid-July, when a 100,000-strong French force came off worse against 60,000 Hanoverian and British troops (with casualties of 2,000 and 3,000 prisoners) at the Battle of Vellinghausen. However, nothing was settled. Although dented, the French forces remained intact and did not retreat far. Rather, the momentum moved to a different part of the warzone, as a joint Austrian and Russian advance into Silesia occurred in August. In October, the Silesian fortress of Schweidnitz fell, while the Russians stormed Kolberg in Pomerania, giving Moscow control of eastern Pomerania. This gave them a platform to take Stettin, Berlin and Brandenburg the following spring.82 With such ongoing losses, many believed that Frederick was doomed unless he was willing to make a deal. However, that was impossible, as although France may have considered a settlement at this stage, Tsarina Elizabeth would not consent to any pacific overtures until the original object of the league – the complete destruction of Frederick – had been accomplished. Meanwhile, the British, who had found resounding success in all of their battles on the other side of the planet, wanted peace, as they felt they had achieved most of their objectives and the expensive ongoing support for Prussia was gaining them little. All

the while, Frederick, who had recently (1761) concluded a diplomatic relationship with the Ottomans, dreamt wistfully of them rescuing him.83 However, the Ottomans were treading slowly in their new relationship with Prussia, seeking to learn military skills, not share military fronts, from their new friends.

17.

The Entry of Spain

To the minds of many, fortune should have turned towards the French, as in 1762 a new, belligerent, Spain, entered the conflict on their side. This occurred when King Charles III of Spain, a first cousin to Louis XV, succeeded his brother, Ferdinand VI (who died in 1759). At this point, Spanish neutrality, and the desire to avoid a conflict with Britain came to an end. It was feared that if they did not strike first, when the time was right for Britain, they would attack the Spanish colonies, and ‘attempt to annex that New World with its shipping and its trade for themselves’.84 To avert this imagined risk, Charles III, quickly made peace with Portugal (resolving all their territorial disputes in the New World), and then concluded the (third) Family Compact of Amity and Union with France. This stated: All Europe must by now be aware of the risks to which the balance of international sea power is now exposed. They have only to consider the ambitious designs of the British court and the despotic manner in which it is attempting to make the high seas its own private preserve … and not permit any other nation more than a modicum of trade under special licence from Her …85

To this problem, both sides, via some supplementary conventions for military alliance, agreed to, ‘wage war on England … until such time as She [Britain] be forced to come to Her senses and sue for peace in a reasonable manner’.86 While France promised to return Minorca to the Spanish (which they had captured earlier in the war), Spain was also promised a number of the French islands in the Caribbean (Dominica, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and Tobago despite being previously declared neutral in 1748). They were also promised repossession of any Spanish territories that the British had earlier occupied.87 With these promises, and in an attempt to draw British forces from elsewhere, 42,000 Spanish soldiers invaded their Portuguese neighbour (which was allied to Britain) on 5 May 1762. These efforts were repeated in July and November. This was supplemented by similar Spanish efforts against Portuguese territories in South America, with the disputed town of Colonia (in Uruguay) changing hands in 1762. This could not be prized from the new Spanish possession, even when the British and Portuguese forces attacked together, suffering a few hundred casualties in the attempt as the two English vessels were heavily bombarded.88 The attacks on Portugal itself, despite French support for the Spanish, were stopped by Portuguese conventional forces and irregulars. From the end of 1762, the defences were supplemented with British troops. In all instances the Spanish could neither capture their objectives nor, more commonly, hold on to them in surrounding hostile territories which were scorched in the retreat. In all instances, the Spanish losses were in the thousands. However, although the Spanish forces were pushed out of Portugal, they had much more success in the Portuguese colonies of Uruguay (where they captured four forts) and parts of southern Brazil,

but not in western or northern Brazil.89 In the Caribbean, the trajectory of British successes continued when some 8,000 men transported by the British Navy took (from 12,000 soldiers, militia and privateers) the French sugar colony of Martinique in early 1762. This was followed up by the capture of Saint Lucia, Grenada, Tobago and Saint Vincent. These victories were then supplemented in early June 1762 with British forces from the West Indies landing on Cuba and laying siege to Havana. The British were successful (despite disease killing about 1,800 of their soldiers and incapacitating a further 4,000) with the fortress stormed at the end of July. The result was that although Britain did not hold all of Cuba, holding Havana was probably the richest prize of the entire conflict. The British, with over 10,000 soldiers diverted from India, then managed to besiege Manila in the Philippines, and storm (and plunder) that city on 6 October 1762.90

18.

The Exit of Russia

Frederick the Great was spared extinction because of the sudden death of one of his arch enemies, Tsarina Elizabeth of Russia on 5 January 1762. The nephew of Elizabeth, Peter (now Peter III) came to power. Peter’s half-Swedish dynastic history meant that his orientation was towards fighting Denmark, not Prussia. In addition, whereas his aunt, Tsarina Elizabeth hated Frederick, Peter was besotted with, and idolised, the Prussian king. This resulted in a complete reversal of Russian policy, to which an armistice was agreed in the middle of March 1762.91 As a gesture of good faith, Peter released all the Prussian prisoners held by the Russians. He then instructed his ambassadors to act with haste and settle with the king of Prussia, as he was, ‘resolved to get free of commitment to the Court of Vienna’.92 The result, the Treaty of Saint Petersburg, was concluded on 5 May 1762.93 This not only ended the fighting between Russia and Prussia, but Russia also promised to return all Prussian territory that it occupied. Peter believed that only these sacrifices would bring peace to both his own country and to Europe. The 40,000 Russian soldiers already assembled in Prussian Pomerania were then directed to stop looking towards Berlin, and rather, point towards the direction of Denmark and get ready for action. Sweden reacted quickly concluding a peace on 22 May, withdrawing all its forces from Prussian territory.94 An actual alliance was struck in the middle of June 1762, in which Peter now promised Frederick Russian military support. Peter explained to Austria that this action was necessary as being the quickest way to restore to humanity the blessings of peace.95 In actual fact, although close, neither an attack on Denmark, nor a military alliance with Prussia came to anything as Peter III was the victim of a coup, killed while in custody and replaced by his wife, Catherine II. Although she was not besotted with Frederick (and did not implement the planned offensive alliance with Prussia), the peace organised by Peter with Frederick held. She had no intention of going back to war with Prussia. Rather, she chose to maintain peace, and, the risk of conflict with Denmark rescinded.96

19.

The Last Actions

With the promised peace with Russia, and Sweden also exiting the conflict, Frederick, for the first time in an age, was able to take the initiative. He did this by mustering about 120,000 soldiers and quickly recaptured southern Silesia. He then prepared for the final French and Austrian onslaughts of the war. The first of these occurred with the French attempt to invade Hanover which was, again, a failure. Their last defeat in this area was recorded at the Battle of Wilhelmsthal (above Nuremburg). There, at the end June 1762, some 40,000 Hanoverian and British troops inflicted a defeat on 70,000 opposing French forces, killing 1,500 and taking 3,000 prisoner. The Hanoverian and British forces then went on the attack, driving southward, and finally recapturing Kassel. Meanwhile, at the battle of Freiberg (west of Dresden) at the end of October, 22,000 Prussians recorded a further victory against 40,000 Austrians (inflicting 4,000 casualties of 4,000 and taking an equal number of prisoners), allowing Frederick to hold almost all of Saxony, except Dresden, and most of southern Silesia, but not the county of Glatz.97

20.

The PEACE OF PARIS

Following preliminary articles of peace98 from the middle of November 1762, the first comprehensive peace – that of Paris – was signed on 10 February 1763. This was signed by Britain, France, Spain and Portugal. The Peace of Paris sought to end the, ‘divisions [that] had spread troubles in the four parts of the world … [in a] … long and bloody war’,99 and replace it with a, ‘Christian, universal, and perpetual peace, … by sea as by land, and a sincere and constant friendship’.100 The basis of the peace was all of the earlier treaties of peace from Westphalia forward (1648, 1661, 1670, 1678, 1679, 1697, 1713, 1714, 1717, 1738, 1748) which were to ‘serve as a basis and foundation to the peace’ and as such, were all (unless inconsistent with the new 1763 treaty) ‘renewed and confirmed in the best form’101 to be faithfully adhered to. With regards to Canada, Louis XV renounced: All pretensions … to Nova Scotia or Acadia in all its parts, and guaranties the whole of it, and with all its dependencies, to the King of Great Britain … [who was granted …] in full right, Canada, with all its dependencies … and in general, everything that depends on the said countries, lands, islands, and coasts.102

This transfer was done, ‘in the most ample manner and form, without restriction’.103 The caveat on Canada was that Britain agreed to allow the French Catholics to retain their faith (or safely leave if they wanted). The continued liberty for France to fish off Newfoundland (as agreed at Utrecht in 1713) was maintained. In terms of the lands to the south of Canada, France gave up all its territories in mainland North America, effectively ending any foreign military threat to the British colonies there. This was agreed in a two-step process. First, it was settled that a line drawn down the middle of Mississippi river would fix, irrevocably, the domains of both France and Britain, with the

Brits getting everything on the left (east) side of river, except the town of New Orleans.104 For the Caribbean, Britain restored the islands of Martinique, Guadeloupe (in the south Caribbean), and St Lucia to France, but kept Grenada; the previously neutral St Vincent, Dominica, and Tobago, were transferred fully to the British.105 In Africa, France was given back the island of Goree, but gave up the river Senegal to Britain, with all of its associated forts and factories.106 Within India, Britain became the dominant power. Although Britain agreed to restore to France the different factories, and their capital in India (Pondicherry), none of what was returned could be refortified. Both sides committed to acknowledge the regional rulers (who were now candidates acceptable to Britain). With the loss of French power and French allies in India, the pathway was now open for the British hegemony over the subcontinent.107 In terms of European territory, Britain regained Minorca from France (it was not returned to the Spanish),108 while with France, Belle Isle (off the coast of France)109 was returned to the French, but Dunkirk was to be neutralised with its fort and batteries removed, in accordance with earlier treaty obligations.110 Further inland, all territory belonging to Hanover or Hesse, but occupied by France, was to be restored.111 The same rule was applied ‘to all of the countries belonging to the King of Prussia’.112 It was added that neither France nor Britain would ‘furnish any succours of any kind to their respective allies who still continue engaged in the war in Germany’.113 In terms of the conclusion between Britain and Spain, King George III agreed to, ‘restore to Spain all the territory which he has conquered in the island of Cuba, with the fortress of Havana’.114 In exchange, and ‘in consequence of this restitution’ [of Cuba], Spain agreed to cede to Britain: All rights to Florida, together with the stronghold of St Augustine and the Bay of Pensacola, and also all those territories occupied by Spain in North America to the east and the south-east of the river Mississippi.115

With this Britain also guaranteed to the Spanish their rights to their Catholic religious faith (if they opted to remain in the now-British areas).116 Any remaining territories that the Spanish troops occupied in Europe, and ‘with regards to the Portuguese colonies’ (namely, Colonia, in Uruguay) had to be evacuated.117 In addition, the British loggers who had planted themselves in the Bay of Honduras, although they had to destroy their forts, could remain and the Spanish had to treat them fairly and not molest them.118 Finally, the Spanish accepted the authority of the British admiralty courts on looking at the validity of Spanish prizes taken before and during the conflict.119 Manilla was returned via the promise that other territories, not stipulated but taken, would be returned to their original owners.120

21.

The PEACE OF HUBERTUSBURG

France and Britain wanted peace more than Austria and Prussia, even though they, also, were

financially and militarily exhausted. For Britain and France to agree their goal of a universal peace, both stopped their subsidies and military support to their European allies. Austria, which was already now fighting without the help of Russia and had now lost the support of France, reluctantly concluded that Prussia would never be crushed, and Silesia, not recovered. In a supplemental fashion, Prussia was happy to take the peace. This country, a bleeding stump, drained of vitality, was quick to settle, so it could finally bank the province – Silesia – and a implict recognition that it was now a, if not the, dominant player in central Europe. With such a context, the remaining fighters in central Europe signed two peace treaties (Prussia and Poland-Saxony; Prussia and Austria) at Hubertusburg, five days after the Peace of Paris was concluded on 15 February 1763.121 Compared to the peace of Paris, which was between nations, the Peace of Hubertsburg framed the ‘inviolable and perpetual peace together with a sincere unity and perfect friendship’122 between monarchs, rather than individual states. In terms of results, this settlement, was, in essence, a restoration to the situation as it was in 1748. Accordingly, Maria Theresa renounced, for herself and her heirs: All claims she have or form against the states and lands of the king of Prussia and on those ceded to him by the preliminary articles of Breslau [1742] and the peace treaty of Berlin [also, 1742] and also all claims to indemnification for the losses and injuries which she and her States and subjects might have suffered in the last war.

In exchange, Frederick promised that he: [R]enounced similarly for himself and his heirs and successors … all claims he might have or form against the states and lands of [Maria Theresa].123

This meant that although Frederick had hoped to retain and incorporate Saxony as he still occupied it, he ended up giving it back (but without having to pay compensation for the damage done) to regain Glatz. The only concession that Prussia made to Austria was to agree to allow the continued practice of Catholicism in Silesia, and the election of Archduke Joseph, the eldest son of Maria Theresa, as Holy Roman Emperor. As France and Prussia had never declared war on each other, there was no peace to negotiate. The French simply evacuated those of Frederick’s Rhineland possessions which they were occupying.124

22.

Conclusion

The Seven Years War was the second, and final, round of what started with the War of Austrian Succession. This conflict, one of the bloodiest of the eighteenth century, cost about 1.5 million (military and non-military) lives. Like its predecessor, it was a war in which the majority of the contestants were absolute monarchs, with one constitutional monarch. Together, they fought for the territories that others held. They were driven by considerations of opportunity, revenge, aggrandisement and empire. It was not a conflict over principles such as forms of government or even religion. This war was different to the past in two ways. First, even before the actual conflict burst open, there were serious difficulties in the colonies, especially in North America and India.

These difficulties were due in part to the failures of the last peace agreement to set out in advance all the rules necessary to keep peace in the future. Second, in diplomatic terms, the situation moved much quicker and in an unexpected way than most envisaged. This occurred as the policy makers, in their attempts to create regional blocks of power and powerful new alliances, triggered a new world war in which sides that had fought together a decade earlier, now fought against each other. The roots of this reconfiguration were in Britain and Austria not nurturing what they had created previously. In their quick dance that followed, the British attempted to build enhanced relationships with Russia, but then completely tripped over their own feet when they made a similar deal with (the enemy of Russia) Prussia. The uproar created by this situation gave Austria the chance it needed to reach out to its former enemy of France (and ally of Prussia), and make an alliance with them (against Prussia). Although this meant that the two sides that were at the heart of the conflict over the War of Austrian Succession (Prussia and Austria) remained the principal antagonists against each other, the primary allies supporting each of them changed, and with this change, so too did the impact of the war. Most notably, in terms of peripheral battlefields, this was excellent news for the areas in Italy, which for once, did not become graveyards for the wider European scraps. Austria and France then placed even more pressure on Prussia, as Russia and Sweden, also, came to see the opportunities in beating, and then dividing the corpse of their shared enemy. Better still for France, they managed to keep the traditional ally of the British, the United Provinces, neutral in this conflict. Accordingly, the odds looked stacked against the British-Prussian alliance. The only Prussian help on the Continent, that of Hanover (as linked to the British King), was quickly defeated. It then surrendered, and then reneged on its surrender deal. Against the odds, the British-Prussian alliance won the war. The difference between the two is that while Britain prospered, Prussia was lucky to survive. Of the first part, Britain after a couple of years of consolidation, went on to record a long string of battlefield victories. These ranged from securing control over both North America, and Canada; whilst also achieving the upper hand with its partners in India. The success of Britain in defending its offshore assets, and acquiring those of others was made even clearer when Spain joined the war late in the conflict, and was quickly outclassed, with most of its crown jewel of Cuba, finding itself beneath the Union Jack. In the second part, Prussia was squeezed to within an inch of its national life, kept afloat only by the brilliance of its commander, and just enough British subsidies to keep them in the fight. Prussia only survived because of two factors. First, France, realising that it was losing all its best colonial possessions refocused its war effort onto Britain, not at Prussia. Second, by a remarkable twist of fate, Russia quit the alliance against Prussia, as its new ruler, Peter III was an admirer, not an enemy, of Frederick the Great. Although Peter’s tenure was short, his successor, Catherine the Great, had no intention of re-joining the fight. After Sweden followed the Russian exit, Prussia achieved the breathing space it required to battle the remaining French and the Austrians. With only two, as opposed to four, enemies to fight at once, the Prussians quickly battled back to the status quo which had existed before the war

started. The two peace treaties which concluded the Seven Years War reflected the outcomes on the battlefield. Prussia was left in the same position as it had been when the conflict started. Conversely, Britain held the swag of many (but not all) of the colonial prizes it had wrestled off both France and Spain. The losses of both France and Spain were large enough to inflict serious pain, in terms of both economics and pride. The result was that both of them now waited until the next opportunity that would arise to give Britain its payback. That opportunity was the War of American Independence.

1 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 85; White, M (2011). Atrocitology: Humanity’s 100 Deadliest Achievements. (Text, Melbourne). 256. 2 The 1750 treaty on territorial limits between Portugal and Spain is reprinted in 38 Consolidated Treaty Series 457. See also, 39 CTS 93 and 118. 3 See the Treaty between Austria and Sardinia, 39 CTS 305 and 425. 4 ‘The Proposal of Kaunitz’ is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Select Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 14–15. 5 See the Preliminary Commercial Convention between France and Prussia in 40 CTS 49. 6 See the Accession by Britain to the Treaty of Alliance between Austria and Russia, as in 39 CTS 85. See also, Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 191–95; Scott, H (2011). ‘The Seven Years War and Europe’s Ancien Régime’. War in History. 18(4) 419–55; Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 10–11. Also, Black, J (1990). ‘On the Old System and the Diplomatic Revolution of the Eighteenth Century’. The International History Review. 12(2): 301–23; Higonnet, P (1968). ‘The Origins of the Seven Years’ War’. The Journal of Modern History. 40(1): 57–90. 7 See the Convention of Alliance between Austria, Britain, Modena and Tuscany, as at 40 CTS 61. 8 See the Provisional Treaty between the East India Companies of France and Britain, as in 40 CTS 243. Also, Bryant, G (2004). ‘British Logistics and the Conduct of the Carnatic Wars’. War in History. 11(3): 278–306; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 100–05; Kulke, H (1996). A History of India. (Routledge, London). 227; Dorn, W (1963) Competition for Empire, 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 272. 9 For the relationship with local Indians, see for example, the 1730 Treaty of Alliance and Commerce between Britain and the Cherrokees in America. This is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 315 Shovlin, J (2010). ‘Selling American Empire on the Eve of the Seven Years War: The French Propaganda Campaign’. Past and Present. 206: 121–49; Boulware, T (2007). ‘The Effect of the Seven Years’ War on the Cherokee Nation’. Early American Studies. 5(2): 395–426. 10 This quote is from the Minister for Marine, and is in Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 29. See also pp 37–38, 40–42. 11 This quote is in Dorn, W (1963) Competition for Empire, 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 286. Also, Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 122–124. 12 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 422; Clayton, T (1981). ‘The Duke of Newcastle, the Earl of Halifax and the American Origins of the Seven Years’ War’. The Historical Journal. 24(3): 571–603. 13 This quote is in Dorn, W (1963) Competition for Empire, 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 289. 14 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 226. 15 Brumwell, S (2006). Paths of Glory. (Continuum, London). 144–60; Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 54, 85–86.

16 See page 83. 17 Kaunitz’s reply to the British, is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Select Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 16–17. 18 This quote is from art III of the Treaty between Britain and Hesse. It is in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). III: 47, 48. 19 See pages 97–99. 20 Article IV of the 1755, Anglo-Russia Subsidy Treaty. This is reprinted in Butterfield, ibid. III: 18. Also in 40 CTS 269. 21 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 242; Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 13; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 332–33. 22 Preamble, of the Convention of Westminster, 1756. This is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Select Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 20, 21. It is also in 40 CTS 291. 23 Art I. 24 Art II. 25 Holland, R (1914). ‘Frederick the Great and England, 1756–1763’. The English Historical Review. 29(113): 79–93. 26 See page 121. 27 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 3–4; 14–15; Dorn, W (1963) Competition for Empire, 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 306–7; Mitford, N (1970). Frederick the Great. (Hamilton, London). 193 28 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 243, 245. 29 The Convention of Neutrality, 1756. This is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Select Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 22. Also, 40 CTS 331. 30 Art I of the Convention of Defensive Alliance. This is reprinted in Butterfield, ibid. III: 24. Also 40 CTS 335. 31 Art II. 32 Carter, A (1963). ‘The Dutch as Neutrals in the Seven Years’ War’. The International and Comparative Law Quarterly. 12(3): 818–34. 33 Kinkel, S. (2011) ‘Imperial Debates, Military Governance and Popular Politics at the Outbreak of the Seven Years’ War’. Journal for Maritime Research. 13(1): 3–19; Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 246– 47. 34 Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 98–99, 103–04. 35 Frederick, as in Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 20. 36 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 336; Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 130–34. 37 Persson, M (2014). ‘Prussian Representations of Austria, France and Sweden During the Seven Years War’. German History. 32(2): 181–200; Black, J. (1994). European Warfare 1600–1815. (Yale University Press, New Haven). 132–33; Ropes, A (1891). ‘Frederick the Great’s Invasion of Saxony, and the Prussian “Mémoire Raisonné” 1756’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 5:157–75. 38 Frederick, as in Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 40. 39 Ibid, 44–45; Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 144–45; Mitford, N (1970). Frederick the Great. (Hamilton, London). 196–97. 40 See page 406. 41 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 426; Marston, D (2001). The Seven Years’ War. (Osprey, London). 46; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, Harlow) 109; Dettman, B (1997). ‘The Black Hole: Separating Myth from Fact’. Military History. 14(1): 38–46; Dettman, B (1997). ‘The Siege of Calcutta’. Military History. 14(1): 34–38. 42 Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 125–29; Osborn, W (2000). The Wild Frontier. (Random House, NYC). 125–28.

43 Black, J (2005). ‘Hanover and British Foreign Policy, 1714–60’. The English Historical Review. 120(486): 303–09. 44 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 255–57. 45 The 1757 Convention for the Renewal of the Defensive Alliance between Austria and Russia, as in 40 CTS 437. 46 The Convention between Austria, France and Sweden is at 40 CTS 457. 47 The 1757 Treaty of Union and Defensive Amity between Austria and France, as in 41 CTS 1. 48 The treaties with Bavaria are in 41 CTS 75, and the Palatinate at 40 CTS 475. See generally, Winton, P (2012). ‘Sweden and the Seven Years War, 1757–1762’. War in History. 19(1): 5–31; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 338; Ropes, A (1889). ‘The Causes of the Seven Years’ War’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 4: 143–70. 49 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 42–44, 57, 60–64, 74; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 337. 50 Frederick, as in Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Essex). 163. 51 Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Essex). 136–37, 140–44, 148–55, 162–67. 52 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 85. 53 This quote is in Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 266. 54 Ibid, 267. 55 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 51–52, 72, 78–79, 84. 56 Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 179–182, 189–91, 201–5. 57 See the 1757 Convention between Austria, France and Sweden Respecting Sweden’s Participation in the War against Prussia, as in 41 CTS 101. 58 Winton, P (2012). ‘Sweden and the Seven Years War, 1757–1762’. War in History. 19(1): 5–31; Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 101. 59 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 430; Mitford, N (1970). Frederick the Great. (Hamilton, London). 213. 60 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 99 107–111. 61 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC) 340. 62 The 1758 Treaty between Britain and Prussia, is at 41 CTS 179. 63 This Declaration of 11 April is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). III: 66. 64 This quote is from the December 1758 Convention Between Prussia and Britain. This is in Jenkinson, ibid, III: 69. 65 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 99, 105, 146, 150, 165–68, 191, 197; Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 268-–69, 278. 66 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC) 341; Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 212–21, 225–29. 67 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 86; Webb, J (1997). ‘The British Conquest of Saint-Louis Du Senegal’. The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History. 25: 37–58. 68 Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 144–46; Mackay, J (1954). ‘The Assault Landing at Louisbourg, 1758’. The Canadian Historical Review. 35(4): 314–30. 69 Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University press, London). 280–81; Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 155, 163, 168–72, 231–33; Parmenter, J (1997). ‘Forging New Links in the Anglo-Iroquois Covenant Chain, 1758–1766’. Ethnohistory 44(4): 617–54. 70 See the Treaty of Alliance between Austria and France, at 41 CTS 235. 71 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 212–13. 72 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 86;

Charters, E (2009). ‘Disease, Warfare and Imperial Relations’. War in History. 16(1): 1–24. 73 Brumwell, S (2006). Paths of Glory. (Continuum, London). 249–90; Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 186–93, 199–200, 213–14; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 151–54; Stacey, C (1966). ‘Quebec, 1759’. The Canadian Historical Review. 47(4): 344–55. 74 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 86; McGarry, S (2013). Irish Brigades Abroad. (History Press, Dublin).139–41. 75 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 218, 245–61, 265, 300; Marston, D (2001). The Seven Years’ War. (Osprey, London). 61–63. 76 The 1759 Convention between Prussia and Britain is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). III: 70. Also, Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC) 342–43. 77 See the 1760 Treaty between Austria and Russia at 41 CTS 371. 78 Browning, R (2005). ‘New Views on the Silesian Wars’. The Journal of Military History. 69(2): 521–34; Mitford, N (1970). Frederick the Great. (Hamilton, London). 237. 79 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 232–39, 250, 252, 264, 286–89, 292, 314– 17, 323; Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 248–52, 255, 259, 276, 280–83, 294– 96. 80 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 443; Marston, D (2001). The Seven Years’ War. (Osprey, London). 67. 81 See the 1760 Convention between Britain and Prussia, as at 42 CTS 49. Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 267; Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 238–40. 82 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh) 308, 329, 330, 339, 352–54, 364–66, 370; Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow) 296–308. 83 The 1761 Treaty of Commerce between Prussia and Ottomans is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 413. 84 This quote is from the Spanish ambassador. It is in the ‘Prelude to War with Great Britain’, as reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 122, also 125–26. 85 Preamble, of the Third Family Compact, as reprinted in Hargreaves, ibid. 127–28. 86 Article 1. Note also the 1761 treaty between Spain and France, of 25 August 1761. This is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 83. See, too, the 1762 Convention of Offensive and Defensive Alliance between France and Spain, as in 42 CTS 133. 87 See arts 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6. 88 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 138. 89 Esdaile, C (2019). ‘The Guerra Fantastica of 1762’. Small Wars and Insurgencies. 30(4): 734–49; Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 262–63. 90 Flannery, K (2016). ‘Battlefield Diplomacy and Empire-building in the Indo-Pacific World during the Seven Years War’. Itinerario, 40(3): 467–88; Fowler, W (2005). Empires at War. (Walker, NYC). 264–65. 91 See the Armistice between Prussia and Russia, as in 42 CTS 143. Also, Schweizer, K (1995). ‘Russia and the Schleswig-Holstein Question’. Canadian Journal of History. 30(1): 189–94; Schweizer, K (1983). ‘Britain, Prussia, Russia and the Galitzin Letter’. The Historical Journal. 26(3): 531–56. 92 Peter, as in Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 247. 93 The Treaty of Peace between Prussia and Russia, as in 42 CTS 149. 94 See the Treaty of Peace between Prussia and Sweden, as at 42 CTS 163. 95 Lindsay, J (ed). The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 350, 478. 96 Specifically, Russia surrendered all dynastic claims to contested portions of Schleswig-Holstein, in return for

possession of Oldenburg and Delmenhorst. See Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 260–62; Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 258. 97 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 445; Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh) 380–382; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC) 343, 350. 98 For the preliminary articles of peace, see Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 86–92. 99 Preamble, the 1763 Treaty of Peace between France, Britain and Spain, as in 42 CTS at 251. 100 Ibid, art I. 101 Ibid, art II. 102 This quote is from art IV. 103 Ibid. The exception to this was with Saint Pierre and Miquelon, which was allowed to remain as an unfortified French archipelago south of the Canadian island of Newfoundland. The fishing rights were contained in arts V and XVIII. 104 Ibid, art VII. 105 Ibid, art VIII and IX. 106 Ibid, art X. 107 Ibid, art XI. 108 Ibid, art XII. 109 Ibid, art XXIV. 110 Ibid, art XIII. 111 Ibid, art XIV. 112 Ibid, art XV. 113 Ibid. 114 Ibid, art XIX. 115 Ibid, art XX. 116 Note, the British had earlier made clear to the French they would not make peace with them, unless Spain also made peace with Britain. To get Spain agree to end the war, France ceded all of Louisiana, with the exception of New Orleans, to Spain, in recompense for Spain’s agreement to surrender Florida to England, and not have to give up Cuba or Honduras in the coming peace negotiations. This was done via the 1762 Treaty of San Ildefonso. 117 1763 Treaty of Peace between France, Britain and Spain, art XXI. 118 Ibid, art XVII. 119 Ibid, art XVI. 120 Ibid, art XXIII. 121 The Peace between Austria and Prussia is at 42 CTS 347; and that with Poland/Saxony, at 42CTS 361. The remaining allies of Austria were folded into the peace three weeks later. See 42 CTS 361. For commentary, Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 349; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 2–5. 122 Art I of the Treaty of Hubertsburg, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 30. 123 Ibid, art III. 124 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 285; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 480, 483, 484.

VII The War of American Independence 1.

Introduction

C

wars that immediately preceded it, namely the War of Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War, the death toll of the War of American Independence was surprisingly small. Britain (including all its allies and auxiliaries) lost about 15,000 lives. France lost at least 10,000, the Spanish 5,000 and the Dutch, perhaps 500. Those fighting for their own independence saw perhaps 6,800 killed, 8,400 wounded and 1,400 missing.1 Despite these comparatively small losses, the American Revolution was one of the most formative events of modern history, as a group of colonists broke free from the tutelage of Britain to create what became the most powerful nation in the world. OMPARED TO THE

2.

Before the Revolution

Between 1650 and 1750 there was little advocacy for wider versions of representative democracy in Europe. However, in their colonies, in some instances, it was different. Here, some European countries (such as with the Protestant Dutch and the English), were much more willing to consider the use of representative assemblies than others (such as the Catholic French and Spanish). The Protestant colonies were, as a generalisation, less centralised, autocratic and uniform than their Catholic neighbouring colonies. They were, however, more populated and had greater support from the home countries. Thus, while 20,000 French emigrants had left for North America and the Caribbean by 1640, four to five times the number of English emigrants had made the same decision.2 The Dutch and the English opted for forms of representative assemblies and local autonomy for three reasons. First, there was often an ideological distrust of the authorities in London or the Hague. This was especially so since many of the early colonists were (especially in the case of England) dissenters from the official Anglican faith, and distrustful of the Crown in general. Second, although these people were dissenters, they were not enemies, and if funnelled into the new colonies, they could not only help to let off steam from home, they could also help generate economic wealth abroad. Allowing them a greater degree of independence encouraged this migration. Finally, degrees of local representation

allowed these faraway communities to be more responsive to situations as they emerged, with the additional benefits of understanding local context, rather than having to wait for direction from Europe. Although the authorities in the home countries understood the benefits of degrees of local representation, the locals were not without strong guidance. That is, every English colony, whether it was in North America or the Caribbean, had a governor appointed from England by the Crown. The governor’s functions were derived from those of the sovereign. He was commander-in-chief and head of the civil administration. He could summon, adjourn and dissolve assemblies, veto their acts or reserve them for consideration by the imperial government. The governor, to assist his decision making, would then be assisted by a council. In all but three of the colonies, the governor and council were Crown nominees. Each governor and council was then, typically, supplemented with representative assemblies. Each of these areas had their own rules for representation. In addition to the exclusion of women, slaves, and Native Americans, considerations around church membership, lineage to original descendants, and/or property ownership, could also influence whether a male was within a franchise or not. Together they would make decisions over, inter alia, control over local militia, local tax and local justice.3 Of the 31 British overseas dependencies in 1750, 21 enjoyed some form of representative institution. These 21 were found in the 13 colonies in America and eight other island colonies in the western Atlantic and the Caribbean. In the case of the American colonies, in the time of Charles II, representative assembles were agreed for Rhode Island in 1663, New Jersey in 1664, Carolina and Connecticut in 1665. Such progress slowed in the 1670s, when the first rebellion against governmental authority in the colonies occurred in 1676. This happened when Nathaniel Bacon revolted against the governor, Sir William Berkeley. The cause of the revolt was the lack of official support for Bacon’s actions against the local indigenous community, who he, fearful of their attacks, was trying to force from the region. When Bacon acted without authority (as Berkeley feared such policies could spark an overall war with the Native Americans), he and his supporters were declared as rebels. Bacon responded by promising freedom to the servants and the slaves, if they joined with him, lamenting, ‘how miserable that man that governs a people when six parts of the seven at least are poor, indebted and discontented’.4 Bacon and his supporters then seized Jamestown, and held it for about three months, controlling it and most of the colony. Although he died of disease and his rebellion dissipated before the 1,100 soldiers sent from England could reach the rebels, the first armed rebellion against authority in the American colonies had been recorded. Stability returned in the 1680s, to which Charles II authorised further representative assemblies in West Jersey in 1681, Pennsylvania 1682 and New York in 1683. This pattern began to slow as James II came to power, with this monarch preferring a more centralised, ‘Dominion of New England’ approach which would have given closer control to a single supreme governor. This approach suited James who insisted on clear fidelity to his person and royal absolutism.5 William III (as followed by Anne and Mary) reversed this trend, and the expansion of representative assemblies and the flow of increased liberties from the Glorious Revolution in

England, rebooted. The results ranged from the relatively wide franchises of certain New England colonies such as Massachusetts or Rhode Island, through to the semi-aristocracies of Virginia and the Carolinas. By the turn of the eighteenth century, the most liberal of all was Pennsylvania, to which their Charter of Liberties of 1701 guaranteed that the ‘freemen in each respective county’ could come together, ‘for electing their representatives to serve in assembly’.6 The result (over the following five decades) was about 95 per cent self-governance, with only about 5 per cent of the colonial laws that emerged from the representative assemblies being disallowed by London. Despite this freedom (especially when compared to elsewhere), such interference was resented. The most distinctive of all their privileges was freedom from direct national (for Britain) taxation, a right not enjoyed by the overseas colonies of any other European state. Taxes which had a direct applicability (as opposed to the indirect ones such as via the Navigation Acts) were raised in the 13 colonies by the authority of their own legislature, not by Parliament in London. This meant that some taxes which had been developed in Britain, such as those to harvest income off the burgeoning newspaper trade, had no comparable system. Accordingly, the press grew quickly. The first newspaper was printed in 1704 (the Boston Newsletter) with no less than 22 other newspapers joining it by 1745, as newspapers, printing presses and libraries catered to a strong demand for news and debate.7 The only time this assumption – that taxes could be imposed without the involvement of the local bodies in the American colonies – was tested, was in 1733. This challenge came with the 1733 Molasses Act, which had been designed, to ‘improve or carry on the sugar trade upon an equal footing with the foreign sugar colonies’.8 This law, which supplemented the existing Navigation Acts, had been intended to place heavy duties on the importation of rum and molasses from the French West Indies to America. Although many of the colonists understood why this law was being created, there was, for a first time, an unexpected response. For example, Rhode Island’s agent in London protested the new law as: [D]ivesting them of their rights and privileges as the King’s natural-born subjects and Englishmen, in levying subsidies upon them against their consent, when they are annexed to no county in Great Britain, have no representative in Parliament, nor have any part of the legislature of this kingdom.9

3.

After the Seven Years War

After the Seven Years War, the victorious British Empire was shining very brightly. A glorious future appeared to be imminent for these people who took liberty to a much greater height than all their sovereign competitors. Militarily, Britain was, by far, the most powerful nation on the planet. It had ended the recent conflict with almost 100 battleships, 85,000 seamen, and an army of 120,000 men (with the ability to call thousands more from Europe if needed). The one shadow at this point was that Britain’s traditional alliances which had helped her survive and prosper during the Seven Years War, had now come to an end. Although peace appeared to be settling with France,10 and a positive relationship with

Russia11 looked promising, Britain was effectively without international allies of significance. This was especially noticeable with Prussia, which, by 1764, decided to part company. The result was that Britain was now without strong military alliances on the Continent, so in the future, if a conflict broke out, there would be no complementary battles by the proxies of Britain in Europe.12 Despite this lack of international friends, the prospects still looked bright for Britain. In geographic and colonial terms, the future looked pleasing as the acquisition of more territory all over the world was part of the fruits of the recent war. In North America alone, French Canada, the two parts of Florida, and virtually all the territory between the Alleghenies and the Mississippi river, had doubled the size of British possessions in that part of the world.13 Even politically within North America, the prospects for a challenge against British rule looked weak, as even soft versions of enhanced unity, such as Benjamin Franklin’s 1754 idea for federal organisation for the colonies, (with each colony having its own constitution) failed to gain significant support. Accordingly, only a genius would have guessed that the Patriots (also known as Revolutionaries, Continentals or Rebels) from the 13 alienated colonies in North America, would, within 20 years of the end of the Seven Years War, turn at least 250,000 colonists (and their French, Spanish and Dutch allies) into a fighting force who would defeat the imperial might of the British Empire, and break free the crown jewel now known as the United States of America.

4.

Land and Native Americans

Despite the glorious peace that Britain enjoyed in the aftermath of the Seven Years War, two matters required attention, and both laid the seeds for the American War of Independence. The first consideration was that Britain was keen to stabilise the frontiers of the colonies, for both those in Canada and in North America, and end the fighting with the indigenous tribes. Clashes with the Cherokee in the southeast began in 1760 and would continue for another two decades. These clashes were overshadowed by the so-called Pontiac’s War, when 14 tribes (including the Iroquois and Hurons) under the leadership of Pontiac, of the Odawa tribe, tried to drive the victors of the Seven Years War out of the Great Lakes region, Illinois County and Ohio County. In a particularly barbaric period, hundreds of colonists were killed or captured; eight small forts were destroyed and a ninth was abandoned in less than two months. Only the forts of Niagara, Detroit and Pittsburgh survived the attacks. The latter were notable as blankets intentionally infected with smallpox were given to a group of Native Americans during a parley, which resulted in an epidemic. By the time the war petered out, around 2,000 British and American civilians and 400 soldiers had been killed. To the British these conflicts were an example of the colonists’ inability to defend themselves.14 The British also saw the clashes with the indigenous populations as evidence of the need to make a secure settlement with them to stop further warfare in the future. Although peace with the tribes was largely achieved on a one-by-one basis via a collection of ad hoc treaties, the underlining principles were set out on 7 October 1763, with a Royal Proclamation. This

was aware of the ‘frauds and abuses’ that ‘have been committed in the purchasing lands of the Indians’ and in the desire to show ‘justice’ to the Indians and ‘remove all reasonable cause of discontent’,15 the British sought a new, and more principled, approach going forward. Accordingly: [I]t is just and reasonable, and essential to our interest and the security of our colonies, that the several nations or tribes of Indians with whom we are connected, and who live under our protection, should not be molested or disturbed … in the territories ceded to them.

The last part of this sentence was critical, as it showed that the British had accepted that the land the Native Americans were living on was theirs, and not unowned commons, free to be appropriated. The Proclamation then gave two principles to help work in this area. First, a line (west of Quebec, and west of the Allegheny Mountains) was drawn, forbidding settlement on the other side thereof. Those wishing to acquire new land were pointed towards recent acquisitions on the inside of the line, or in Canada or Florida. Second, settlers could only acquire land in these parts if it had first been bought by the Crown (of which the Crown alone had monopoly to negotiate, purchase and sell on). The idea being that, in time, more land would come, via negotiation (with the groups, not individuals) and be ceded by explicit treaties. The difficulty this situation presented for many of the colonists was that they deeply disliked many of the tribes (some of whom had recently been warring against them), and believed that the best way forward was by conquest, not negotiation, and if so, certainly not that directed from London.16

5.

Sugar and Stamps

The second problem that helped sow some seeds for the American War of Independence was the new financial demands that were placed upon the colonies. Specifically, more money was required for both domestic and imperial defence and the colonies were going to have to contribute to a much greater extent than previously, with very few contributions going directly to the imperial exchequer. This was necessary because although Britain had come out on top in the recent conflict, the economic cost was very large, and the national debt had doubled. In addition, all expectations were that in the future, greater amounts of money to help fund defence would be required as there was now a much greater amount of territory to defend, and the military would have to be expanded. It was expected that the colonies would pay their fair share towards these increased costs.17 The first tool to generate additional finances from the colonies came from the 1764 Sugar/Revenue Act. The 1764 law replaced the 1733 Molasses Act, noted above. The 1764 law tried to change the 1733 law by reducing duty on the importation of molasses and other sugar products (thus undercutting the smugglers), while increasing duties on, inter alia, wine and coffee. To ensure its effectiveness, the machinery for enforcing the Acts was overhauled. To check smuggling, additional layers of bureaucracy and compliance were added. This included dealing with infractions of the Navigation Acts, moving away from the common courts (where sympathetic juries usually acquitted) to Vice Admiralty Courts, which were

judge alone. The American customs officers were ordered to carry out their duties or resign.18 Although this 1764 Sugar Act upset those who had benefited from the non-compliance of the 1733 law, the new law, in principle, was not seen as too offensive by most, with only some solitary voices (such as James Otis) arguing the principle that taxation without representation was wrong. This meant that the main area of discontent around the 1764 law was with the machinery for the new act, and the movement away from the local, to more directly Crown controlled judiciary and processes.19 The second tool to generate additional finances from the colonies came with the 1765 Stamp Act of 22 March. This law had all legal documents and printed material, such as newspapers, bear the cost of a stamp (with the cost of that stamp collected as tax). This type of Stamp Act had been in existence in Britain since around the turn of the eighteenth century. Although it was not a particularly attractive tax, it was seen as better than most, as it was a ‘user-pays’ type of system and not some generic grab. The collected tax was for, ‘further defraying the expenses of defending, protecting, and security’20 for the colonies targeted with the tax. Two days later, on 24 March 1765, the Quartering Act was also passed. This allowed the quartering of troops in the colonies where the public houses and barracks were not sufficient.21 The 1765 Stamp Act provoked a completely unexpected reaction. While the Sugar Act of 1764 had provoked only isolated and local disgruntlements, the 1765 Stamp Act provoked anger everywhere, with the agents doing the stamping being threatened into resigning and/or supplies of stamps being destroyed wherever they could be found. These acts were supplemented by boycotts of imported British goods and direct resistance to the obligations imposed upon citizens under the Quartering Act. There were many arguments against the Stamp Act and associated measures. These included, inter alia, the unnecessary need for imperial defence, as the colonists believed they could defend themselves; the dislike of standing (British) army amongst them; the increase of bureaucracy and removal of local judicial remedies; and a general scepticism that the tax was being collected for other (non-defence) purposes. It was rumoured that its real objective was to undermine the local representative governments. In addition, the fact that King George III had never even visited the colonies in America (while repeatedly visiting Hanover in Germany) did not help either, adding to a growing feeling that they were being taken for granted. However, all these concerns were secondary to the primary objection to the Stamp Act, which was that it was an unconsented taxation imposed upon a free people, who were not represented in the institution (Parliament, in London) where the law was made. This argument was first articulated, officially, in Virginia, on 30 May 1765, when their Burgesses condemned the Stamp Act, saying ‘the General Assembly of this Colony have the only and exclusive right and power to lay taxes and impositions upon the inhabitants of this Colony’.22 More flamboyantly, Patrick Henry, at the same gathering, harangued, ‘give me liberty or give me death’.23 A few months later, at the First Congress of the American Colonies on 19 October 1765, nine of the colonies present, spoke with their newly found collective voice.

This stated that as subjects of Britain with all of the rights inherent, that ‘no taxes be imposed on them but with their own consent’ and that this was especially important as ‘the people of these colonies are not … represented in the House of Commons in Great Britain’.24

6.

A Revised Approach

Initially, the British Parliament ridiculed the objections made in the colonies. Some pointed out that actual consent and representation were not critical to the ability of tax, as many cities in Britain were, at this point, not represented in Westminster, and many people still had to pay tax whether they consented to it or not. Others took a more hard-nosed approach and argued that ‘protection and obedience are reciprocal’.25 However, such critical views were the minority in Westminster. After three days of debate, Parliament decided they would withdraw the offensive Stamp Act rather than risk escalating the matter with the colonies in America and also further upsetting the British merchants who were trading in the colonies and were losing their profits. The necessary revenue would be collected by some alternative method which did not involve ‘taking money out of their pockets without their consent’.26 Although the British Parliament cancelled the Stamp Act, they wanted to make quite clear that the repealed act was not wrongful or illegal in itself, but rather, that it had been fully within the lawful powers of Westminster. This principle was made clear in the Declaratory Act of 16 March 1766. This was unequivocal that: The said colonies and plantations in America have been, are, and of right ought to be, subordinate unto, and dependent upon the imperial crown and parliament of Great Britain … [the British Parliament, therefore had] … full power and authority to make laws and statutes … to bind the colonies and people of America, subjects of the crown of Great Britain, in all cases whatever.27

Therefore, any resolutions expressing contrary statements to this were ‘utterly null and void’.28 The British Parliament then moved towards other ways to gather money, of which the Revenue Act of 29 June 1767 was at the forefront. This facilitated revenue collection ‘for defraying the charge of the administration of justice, and the support of civil government’.29 Accordingly, a new series of taxes on the importation of tea, glass, leads, paints and paper were settled for the colonies in America. Again, this was accompanied by a tightening up of the administrative machinery necessary to enforce the mercantilist system by giving additional powers to the customs service and the Vice Admiralty courts. The costs of this enforcement were to be paid for by the new taxes. These new taxes were also intended to contribute to imperial defence. Despite this revised approach, the protests continued. Although the Americans recognised that the Declaratory Act was a face-saving mechanism, they were still disgruntled with the strong use of the Vice Admiralty Courts and the removal of local judicial remedies. The payment of royal officials by the Crown was seen as an attempt to impose despotic government by removing accountability to the people through their provincial assemblies. Accordingly, they continued to utilise the two protest tools at their disposal. First, the

boycotts on British imports continued (with British imports falling by at least 50 per cent over 1768 and 1769). Second, many of the colonists opposed all the attempts to strengthen the enforcement of customs and refused to carry out the provisions of the Quartering Act and the Revenue Act. It was this failure of New York to comply with the terms of the Quartering Act that led to the suspension of the legislative privileges of that assembly in 1767.30 Matters escalated in 1770 when, in an ongoing protest in Boston, this time against the Custom House (which was a symbol of British authority) five people were killed by soldiers after they opened fired into a crowd of 60 people that were protesting and/or rioting, following an afternoon of rising tension between the two sides. When the soldiers were acquitted of this ‘massacre’, the level of discontent began to escalate. It was around this point that the famed British scholar, David Hume took a gloomy view of the situation. He spoke of ‘our Union with America’ as something ‘which, in the nature of things, cannot long subsist’.31 To avert the forseeable disaster, the British authorities acted quickly, moving soldiers out of Massachusetts, and removing most of the offensive economic duties. The exception to this was with tea, which remained taxed, so that the supremacy of Parliament and their right to govern the colonies remained, softly, apparent. The result was that by 1772, aside from the burning of a royal revenue cutter, the temperature was cooling, not rising, in the British colonies in North America.32

7.

Tea

The British Parliament passed the Tea Act on 10 May 1773. This piece of legislation permitted the (British) East India Company to sell their tea directly to North America without having to go through the processes of London, which would add to its cost. In addition, existing duties on tea (charged in Britain) would now be abandoned. The thinking was that a reduced price would stimulate demand (and thus increase sales in the longer term), while at the same time, help out the East India Company which was enduring a difficult economic time. In addition, the small residual duty upon the imported product could be directly funnelled into paying the salaries of some of the colonial officials. Although this law was actually doing the opposite of what the Stamp Act had done (reducing, not increasing, prices), it deeply offended a number of the colonists for four reasons. First, it threatened the livelihood of merchants, who had previously stayed away from the constitutional debates, and were now drawn directly into them for fear their control over the tea market would be lost to a new monopoly operated by the East India Company. Second, it undercut the smugglers market (which was perhaps 80 per cent of the tea in the colonies). Third, the residual duty on the tea and its use for paying colonial officials, was being done, again, without the consent of the locals. Finally, it seemed to show that colonial policy was subordinate to powerful corporate interests. The result was a sequence of resolutions by groups such as the so-called New York based ‘Sons of Liberty’, who asserted that all of this was another effort by the British to undermine the colonial interests and surreptitiously tax them. Therefore, any colonist who purchased such tea was declared to be,

‘an enemy to the liberties of America’.33 The conclusion of this thinking then occurred on 16 December 1763 in Boston Harbour, when several dozen rebels, disguised as Native American Mohawks, boarded three vessels of the East India Company and cast their cargoes of 342 chests of tea into the ocean. The British navy which was watching the incident from a few hundred feet away, refused to fire into those doing the damage, for fear of hitting innocent people nearby.34

8.

The Intolerable Acts

This attack on the tea vessels and the continual contempt for British authority was the last straw for the majority in Westminster. Although some isolated voices like that of Edmund Burke, were trying desperately to find ways to avoid a head on collision with the colonists (arguing that London needed to reverse its legislative provocations, and allow the Americans to have their own national assembly and right to taxation for their own purposes),35 the majority were now moving in the opposite direction, away from conciliation. The majority then responded with a sequence of new laws which colonists labelled as the ‘Intolerable Acts’. First, as a response to where the tea had been dumped, the Boston Port Act of 31 March 1774 was passed. This was explained as being due to: [D]angerous commotions and insurrections that have been raised in the town of Boston … and the utter destruction of the public peace and good order … in which … certain valuable cargoes of teas, being the property of the East India Company … were seized and destroyed … it is therefore expedient that his Majesty’s customs should be forthwith removed from the said town.36

This meant that the port of Boston would be closed until compensation had been paid to the East India Company. It was also to be occupied, temporarily, by several companies of regular troops. Second, the Government of Massachusetts Act was passed on 20 May 1774. This sought to remodel the political institutions of the province via taking ‘the executive power from the hands of the democratic part of the government’.37 Henceforth, the governor was to have sole power to nominate the councillors and the powers of town meetings were to be greatly restricted. Third, and also on the same day of 20 May, a new Quartering Act was concluded as was the Administration of Justice Act which stated that royal officials charged with any crime were to be tried in Britain, not America.38 Finally, on 22 June 1774, the Quebec Act was passed. This was aimed at improving relations with the previously French citizens of New France, as they turned into the British citizens of Canada. This improvement was done by giving them a legislative council; the application of French civil law if in accordance with British common law; the promise of freedom of religion was guaranteed to the Catholics and the reference to the Protestant faith was removed from their oath of allegiance. The Quebec Act also extended the territory of the province on the other side of the Allegheny Mountains (into what should have been

preserved Native American territory), thereby undermining the claims of the Englishspeaking colonies to that region, but extending them for the Canadians.39

9.

1774: The Reaction

The reaction began to appear in an ad hoc fashion at the beginning of 1774. It started with a reflex against the 1774 Quebec Act, with many in the English colonies in North America, seeing it as undue favouritism towards former enemies. They also disliked the Act’s religious tolerance towards Catholicism, and the additional rights given to the Canadians to cross the line of the 1763 Proclamation. Accordingly, in early 1774, when the colonial governors were instructed to enforce the boundary policy, Pennsylvania defiantly responded by declaring a scalp bounty, attracting a horde of bounty hunters who raided the borderlands, pushing back Native American settlements.40 The reaction against Britain moved from being ad hoc to coordinated in May 1774, when the Virginia assembly sent out a call for an inter-colonial meeting. As the various groups were sorting this out, Pennsylvania became the first colony to react in June 1774, calling the closing of the port of Boston not only a disproportionate response, but also stating it was, ‘unconstitutional, oppressive to the inhabitants of that town, [and] dangerous to the liberties of the British colonies’.41 New York city reached a very similar conclusion in early July, while Virginia argued that the ongoing actions in Boston were ‘odious’ and ‘despotic’ and, if implemented, would ‘justify resistance and reprisal’.42 When the British commander in Boston imposed martial law and then threatened the locals with charges of treason if they continued to gather, the rhetoric started to boil, with Thomas Jefferson arguing that such ‘single acts of tyranny’ were part of, ‘a series of oppression … pursued unalterably … [which] plainly prove a deliberate, systematic plan of slavery’.43 The First Continental Congress occurred when 12 of the 13 British colonies (leaving out Georgia) met from 5 September 1774 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. This grouping, following solid debate between one minority side which wanted to reconcile with Britain, and the majority, which wanted to split, delivered their collective Declaration and Resolves on October 14, 1774. This stated that the colonists; Are entitled to life, liberty and property and they have never ceded to any sovereign power, whatever, a right to dispose of either without their consent.

The Declaration then emphasised, inter alia, the importance of consent or representation (in London) in the passing of laws applicable to them; the importance of trial by their peers; ‘a right to peaceably assemble’; and not allowing a standing army in times of peace without consent of the colonists.44 Although the official view of the Congress was towards non-violent measures (such as tightening of the import boycott of British goods and tea from the East India Company), a number of the colonial assemblies moved towards a war footing, collecting local taxes and preparing their militia.

10.

A Shot Heard Across the World

On the other side of the Atlantic, the British King George III was quick to realise this situation for what it was, recording in November of 1774 that: The New England governments are in a state of rebellion … blows must decide whether they are to be subject to this country or independent.45

To his mind, and the British government, it was now critical to confront the rebellion head on, not just for the integrity of British rule in North America, but because, if not confronted, it could spread to Ireland, India and the West Indies. The result would be a Britain stripped of its crown jewels. As the British prepared for a fight, so too did the Patriots, with the first clear clash occurring on 18 April 1775. On this day, some 700 British soldiers set out to seize an arms cache of the rebellious Massachusetts Provincial Congress, which was believed to be held at Concord, north-west of Boston. Their thinking was that a strong show of force would quickly overcome what they believed was only a few hotheads without substantial support behind them. This idea was first put to the test at Lexington (en-route to Concord) with what started out as 70 quickly assembled ‘minutemen’ (a militia of locals who were meant to be assembled at a moment’s notice), who intended not to let them pass. Which side fired the first shot that was heard across the world is a matter of debate. What is not uncertain is that both sides were fully primed, with Captain John Parker famously telling his men: Stand your guard. Don’t fire unless fired upon, but if they mean to have a war, let it begin here.46

After the shooting started, the British forces called for and received reinforcements, and they then continued their advance further westward to their goal of Concord. It was on their return from this destination that they were harassed by perhaps 3,700 non-uniformed militia men who joined the original minutemen, who were fighting in unorthodox ways (e.g. shooting from the woods, as opposed to risking a frontal engagement). The result was a victory for the Patriots, killing 73, wounding 174 and making unaccountable a further 53 opposition British troops. These figures were three times the losses imposed on the Patriots from New England.47

11.

The Justification and Escalation

A few weeks after Lexington and Concord, on 10 May 1775, the majority of delegates at the Second Continental Congress assembled at Philadelphia. As the delegates at this gathering were busy talking, the war escalated. The British had retreated to the safety of Boston, where they found themselves besieged by the opposing militia forces. These forces had been turned into part of the Continental Army, of which 20,000 soldiers had been agreed by the Congress on 14 June, to which George Washington was instructed to lead. His orders were to use, ‘every method’ in his power ‘to destroy or make prisoners of all persons’ who were then ‘in

arms against the good people of the United Colonies’.48 When these forces occupied an empty British position known as Bunker Hill on the edge of Boston, the British commanders feared that it gave the opposition too great an advantage and went to re-claim it. Although this was achieved on 17 June 1775, and the ground recovered, the cost to the British (1,154 dead and wounded – nearly 40 per cent of its officers and men) was nearly three times what the Americans paid, after they were told by their commander, ‘don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes’.49 Such victories were, as the British noted, too costly to repeat. As this body-count grew, the Second Continental Congress agreed two initiatives. First, on 5 July, they agreed to the Olive Branch Petition, in which, in their desire to avoid war, they affirmed American loyalty to Britain and beseeched King George III to prevent further conflict. However, George refused to accept the petition because it had, in his eyes, no legal status and America was full of rebels, hell-bent on the creation of disorder.50 Second, on 6 July, the Declaration of the Causes and Necessity of Taking Up Arms was published. This explained that the British authorities were ‘enslaving these colonies by violence’. The particular concerns against Britain were: [T]hey have undertaken to give and grant our money without our consent … statutes have been passed extending the jurisdictions of the courts … beyond their ancient limits; depriving us of … trial by jury …; suspending the legislature of one of the colonies; … for quartering soldiers upon the colonists in times of peace.

The concern was that the laws were passed by a regime in which, ‘not a single man … is chosen by us or is subject to our control or influence’. Although those in rebellion admitted they had raised arms ‘for the preservation of our liberties’ they explained they were not for the ‘ambitious designs of separating from Great Britain and establishing independent States’.51 Despite this caveat, in late August, the British proclaimed a state of revolt in North America, as some colonists were now in, ‘open and avowed rebellion … arraying themselves in a hostile manner, to withstand the execution of the law, and traitorously preparing, ordering and levying war against us’.52 The British then imposed a total blockade on all 13 colonies. At the same time, those in Britain who spoke forcefully in support of the rebellion were arrested and prosecuted for sedition.53 To this action, the rebels, in the areas they controlled, quickly clamped down on Loyalists who found their opinions silenced in both public and in the press. When the British landed on the Chesapeake, Pennsylvania authorities arrested Quakers who were believed to be not loyal to the revolution and searched their houses and possessions under the slightest of pretexts. The Continental Congress went further, and provided that people could be summoned before a magistrate to take an oath of allegiance to the American cause, and those who refused, could be exiled.54

12.

The First Help and Assistance

In the very beginning of 1776, Britain was limited in being able to get direct and formidable assistance from other European countries, as many of its traditional alliances had withered, while new ones were yet to mature. Nonetheless, several regions within the Holy Roman Empire were willing to provide troops to serve at British direction in America, for a price. Brunswick, Hesse-Cassel, Hesse-Hanau, Waldeck, Brandenburg and Hanover were amenable to such arrangements. These agreements allowed for the hire of 18,000 foreign soldiers to be used in suppressing the rebellion (to which a total of 29,100 would eventually serve). Luckily for each area providing men, none of these provisions were seen as sufficient cause for either the French or the Spanish (when they entered the war in a few years’ time) to attack the countries which were providing them.55 The British also had good links with several Native American tribes, many of whom opted towards the British due to their recent 1763 Proclamation, and what they saw as the best chance to control the settlement and expansion of the colonists. However, a number also fought against the British, and some tribes split down the middle, fighting on both sides. While Native American supplements to the fighting were common in many locations, the violence with the Cherokee was particularly bad, as was the outbreak of conflict on the Virginia Pennsylvania frontier in 1774.56 The risk of Native American forces was, in the eyes of the Patriots, quite substantial. They went to considerable effort in making seven treaties (involving 19 tribes) between 1775 and 1779, designed to, at best, get support, and, as second best, keep them neutral in the fight of the colonies against Britain. One of these treaties, that with Delaware (in present-day Oklahoma), even went so far as to invite them, ‘to join the present confederation, and to form a state where the Delaware nation shall be the head, and have a representation in Congress’.57

13.

COMMON SENSE

The year of 1776 began very well for the Patriots. The British had abandoned Boston by the middle of March, and a month later, George Washington had reached New York. As these advances were occurring, people were busy reading Thomas Paine’s pamphlet, Common Sense, which had appeared in early January 1776. This became an immediate success, proliferating into 100,000 copies within the 13 colonies, and read by an estimated 3 million people within a couple of months. Conversely, in Britain, the work was quickly suppressed by the authorities as seditious-libel, although it continued to circulate illegally.58 In this revolutionary document, Paine provided a sequence of very radical ideas, wrapped in persuasive rhetoric. Rather than invoking English legal tradition, precedents and history, he opted for an appeal to universal values, and a fierce denunciation of the British constitution and empire. The opening sentence began: Society is produced by our wants, and government by our wickedness … Society in every state is a blessing, but government even in its best state is but a necessary evil; in its worst state an intolerable one.59

Paine asserted that monarchy60 and its sibling, aristocracy, were two traditions of tyranny that

had no place or value in America, adding that those who looked to the king of Britain for their salvation were sorely mistaken, as this country could provide nothing except ruin to those in the colonies. To Paine, King George III was a, ‘hardened, sullen-tempered Pharaoh’ and a ‘royal brute’ who slept with American ‘blood upon his soul’. He added that America would flourish if freed from the shackles of London, with Britain doing no more than holding America down economically, politically, and in terms of foreign entanglements, dragging her into unnecessary, ‘European wars and quarrels’. The solution he proffered was ‘nothing but independence’ as only this could ‘keep the peace of the continent and preserve it inviolate from civil wars’. He then mixed in the ingredients of republicanism and equality, as necessary precepts for a just society. Perhaps most important of all, Paine mixed all these ideas together, and painted the American revolution as a world event, an epochal step in the history of humanity.61

14.

The DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

Although Thomas Paine’s Common Sense had a huge political appeal, there is debate about how much influence it went on to have on the formal Declaration of Independence. The steps towards this were opening all of the ports in the possession of the Patriots to all countries (6 April); recommending to the individual colonies that they provide themselves with independent constitutions (6 April); agreeing the ‘United Colonies’ were ‘free and independent states’ to which a plan for confederation should be advanced (7 June), and then finally, in early July, they called for a resolution on Independence. This resolution, on 4 July 1776, became the Declaration of Independence. The truths that were held to be self-evident to these men of the 13 states who signed the Declaration, were ‘that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness’.62 Since George III had denied these to the Americans, it therefore made sense, that they should take them, themselves. The Declaration explained that ‘to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed’ and that, ‘whenever any form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government …’ The ‘history of repeated injuries and usurpations’ and creation of ‘absolute tyranny’ by George III over the 13 colonies were then submitted. The 26 grievances included generic complaints pertaining to the failure to consistently apply and/or support, in good faith, laws, legal processes, the judiciary, and representative assemblies for the public good of the people in America. Specific complaints which were added into the mix involved the failure to get consent from the people for matters ranging from taxation through to the creation, and quartering, of standing armies, and importation of foreign mercenaries ‘to complete the works of death, desolation and tyranny’.63 Accordingly: We, therefore, the Representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, … declare, that these United

Colonies are, and of right ought to be free and independent States, that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and … Great Britain, is … totally dissolved …64

The determination of the Patriots to fight Britain was so strong that France agreed, soon after the Declaration was concluded, to secretly help fund the rebels, providing money, footwear, over 100,000 muskets and gunpowder from the end of that year through neutral Dutch shippers. The policy of the French also allowed American privateers to take on supplies themselves and be refitted in French harbours. The Spanish largely followed the French, and decided to provide an equal amount of secret assistance to the rebels, ‘to weaken the English and thus work for their downfall, and to make the colonials see sense right from the very outset of their independence’.65 Neither the French nor the Spanish were doing this because they were attracted to the ideals of the revolution in North America. Both kings, Louis XVI and Charles III were absolutist monarchs, and both found the idea of uprisings against monarchical authority very distasteful. However, they overcame this distaste when the uprising was against Britain and its monarch George III. In this setting, both France and Spain overcame their scruples to take the once in a generation opportunity to inflict some pain on a country of which they had been a long-standing traditional enemy.

15.

Military Survival and Political Cohesion

Although the words of the Declaration of Independence were very powerful, winning on the battlefield was a very different matter. The specific problem that the Patriots faced at this point was that their standing force, largely made up of irregulars, was difficult to keep assembled in good order and with tight discipline, especially when fighting the most powerful country in the world. These military difficulties were made clear when the Americans attempted to invade Canada, and failed terribly in their attempt to make this place the fourteenth member of their nascent union. This failure was evidenced at Quebec, where the Patriots lost 100 dead and 400 were taken prisoner after a disastrous attempt to storm the city at the very end of 1776. This failure was matched by Washington and his army having to abandon New York. The retreat began when these forces were bloodied at the end of August (300 dead and 650 wounded), before the Patriots were pushed backwards out of Harlem Heights and White Plains. Six weeks later more bad news emerged from Valcour Island, where British naval forces had decimated the Patriots (with the Patriots losing 11 of their 16 vessels, causing 600 casualties of the men on board). Finally, at Washington Heights in the middle of November, out of a force of 2,900 men, 2,800 were captured with the rest killed or wounded. The only success from these last months of 1776 was that Washington continued to outfox the prey that was hunting him, avoid a general engagement which would have destroyed the revolution, and escaped over the Delaware. Things were so dire that the Continental Congress abandoned their base at Philadelphia and fled to Baltimore.66 The year of 1777 was the bloodiest of the war. It began well for the Patriots, with quick

hits against the enemy at the outpost of Trenton, and then again at Princeton, striking quickly, and then disappearing. Further battles at Hubbardton in Vermont saw a British tactical victory, before the Patriots suffered a defeat at Oriskany (with 160 killed and 50 captured). The battles became increasingly vicious, at Bennington, Brandywine Creek, Freeman’s Farm, Forts Clinton and Montgomery, and then Bemis Height, with each engagement leaving hundreds of dead on the field. These battles were followed by the Patriot losses of the forts of Miffin and Mercer, allowing the British to occupy Philadelphia at the end of September 1777. Although Washington hit back at Germantown on 4 October, their losses were disproportionate to those of the British.67 The tide turned when the Patriots achieved a strong victory at Saratoga on 17 October. They paid a price of over 500 casualties, but inflicted more than double that figure (as well as taking 5,800 prisoners) on the British and their hired allies, to which an honourable surrender was agreed.68 Of equal good news, significant French military hardware in the form of tens of thousands of muskets and bayonets slipped through the blockade, and now began to turn up in large amounts. Thus, although the British now held Newport, New York, and Philadelphia, outside these regions the country was largely in the hands of the Patriots, who were beginning to feel emboldened, having not been defeated.69 The other significant victory for those in rebellion was that on 15 November 1777, they began to speak with one clear voice, which reflected one solid identity. Prior to this point, the Americans had not solidified themselves into a union, in which they could collectively interpret and understand (in terms of both principles and processes) the independence for which that they were fighting. This all changed when their Articles of Confederation were settled. This explained, in its first article, that the name of the confederacy would be, ‘the United States of America’.70 It was settled that although, ‘each state retains its sovereignty, freedom and independence’,71 that collectively, these United States would act in union for their common defence, the security of their liberties, and their mutual and general welfare; and on questions of war and peace, they would speak, only, with the one voice of Congress. With matters pertaining to Native Americans, while it was agreed that the Continental Congress had ‘sole and exclusive right and power … of managing all affairs with the Indians,’ this was only if that right was not inconsistent with any individual state rights in this area. What this meant in practice was that the colonies with tribal groups within them would govern one way, whereas for tribes outside the colonies, the Congress would take precedence.72

16.

The French Enter the War

Saratoga convinced their French supporters that the Americans were worth backing. The French did this, ‘not’ as the young King of France, Louis XVI put it, ‘with any idea of territorial aggrandisement for us, but solely as an attempt to ruin [England’s] commerce and to sap her strength, by supporting the revolt and the separation of the colonies’.73 Louis and his French administration came to this conclusion, following three considerations.

First, the current pattern was different to the past. In recent centuries, whenever France and Britain fought, the latter would always pull in other allies, such as the Dutch or the Prussians, and France would end up being overstretched and end up fighting on the Continent. For Britain, now, to be stuck fighting an uprising in North America, whilst also having no military alliances on the Continent which could snap back on France, was an exceptionally rare opportunity. To ensure that Europe remained at peace, before conflict broke out over the British colonies in America, the French were careful to retrench their alliances with both Austria (1775) and the Swiss Confederation (1776).74 In quick order, this pattern was followed by a number of regions in Germany, while Prussia (the recent British bulkhead in Europe) was tied into a definitive peace with France’s ally Austria.75 Second, the French were rediscovering their self-confidence in military matters. This was apparent when they intervened on Corsica (at the request of its overlord, Genoa), and 30,000 French soldiers defeated the rebels (at a cost of 10,000 of their own men and an unknown number of Corsicans), and then, in essence, Versailles purchased the island from Genoa. Although Britain gave sanctuary to the Corsican rebel leader (and the young Napoleon grew up revering him as a lawgiver, reformer and benevolent dictator), it did not intervene to fight the French or support the uprising.76 Third, the support for the war was very strong. Lord Stormont, the English ambassador reported sardonically of the Parisians that: Our Wits, Philosophers and Coffee House Politicians … are to a Man warm Americans, affecting to consider them as a brave people struggling for its Natural Rights and endeavouring to rescue those rights from the hands of violent and wanton oppression.77

With these considerations in mind, and a rebuilding military confidence, on 6 February 1778, two treaties between the United States and France were signed. While the Treaty of Amity and Commerce78 (with its commitments to liberal navigation and commerce between the two) was important, it was overshadowed by the Treaty of Alliance.79 Article I of this alliance promised, ‘common cause and aid’ with their mutual ‘good offices, their counsels and their forces …’ against Britain. Article II added: The essential and direct end of the present defensive alliance is to maintain effectively the liberty, sovereignty and independence absolute and unlimited, of the said United States, as well in matters of government as of commerce.

The French also renounced all claims to North America (including New France/Canada), accepting that, ‘if the United States should think fit to attempt to reduce the British power, remaining in the northern parts of America or the islands of Bermuda’, if successful, such acquisitions could be ‘confederated with or dependent upon the said United States’.80 Conversely, the United States agreed to France taking, ‘any islands situated in the Gulf of Mexico, or near that Gulf, which are at present under the power of Great Britain’.81 Finally, by a separate secret agreement, the French King promised to try to get the Spanish to join the alliance against Britain.82

17.

As the War Grinds on in North America, it Expands into Other Parts of the World

News of the alliance between France and the United States forced Britain to rethink how it was running the conflict. They now decided for a defensive strategy and a consolidation of their forces in a smaller number of places that would be easier to defend. As the British made themselves difficult to defeat, they also attempted to negotiate with the Americans in early 1778, promising them that they would not tax them without their consent and repeal the pieces of legislation that had caused such offence. However, the Americans dismissed these attempts, making clear they now wanted nothing but full independence. Feeling they had the upper hand, the Americans made a failed attempt at Monmouth in late June 1778 to trap the British before their evacuation from Philadelphia. The British then won a tactical victory at Rhode Island, as the siege upon Newport was lifted. Loyalist and Iroquois allies of the British then scored the largest defeat on the Patriots of that year, killing over 220 of them after this force was trapped and decimated in the Wyoming Valley, Pennsylvania, in particularly barbaric warfare. A similar event was recorded at Cherry Valley on 11 November, where the 74 combatants and non-combatant Patriots were killed. The year was then rounded out at the very end of 1778 with the British capturing the port of Savannah, on the coast of Georgia, thus giving them a southern operational base.83 While the war in America was ongoing, the French now began to open up other parts of the world. The first substantial naval engagement between France and Britain occurred at Ushant (a French island on the south-western end of the English Channel) on 27 July 1778. In this battle, 31 battleships and 15 frigates from France fought 30 battleships and six frigates from Britain. The significance of this was not in the ship losses (there were none), nor the death toll (about 700 French casualties to 400 British) but in the fact that the French navy was now, clearly, equal to the British. Then, one step further, in early September, the French captured the British island of Dominica. Undeterred by this result, the British then struck back at the French, not in France, but in India. Here, Britain took advantage of the war with France to, once and for all, try to fully remove the remaining French possessions on the Indian subcontinent. To this goal, they besieged the French capital at Pondicherry, and for the price of 1,000 British (and allied sepoy) casualties, they forced the French to surrender on 18 October after a seven-week siege. The British then went even further, capturing Saint Lucia in the Caribbean at the end of 1778, after seeing off a determined French counter attack, in which some 400 were killed and a further 1,200 wounded.84 The year 1779 saw the war deepen again, with George III, having surveyed the growing list of enemies and the global spread of battlegrounds, recorded that he believed that the conflict which had started out against the 13 colonies had now evolved into, ‘the most serious in which any country had even engaged’.85 He was not mistaken. In America, engagements against the British at Kettle Creek, Stony Point and Paulus Hook were typically Patriot successes, as were their attacks by over 2,500 men against the Iroquois in New York and Pennsylvania (destroying all the villages and crops they could find). The largest engagements in this year were at Briar Creek in Georgia, where a couple of

hundred of Patriots were killed. This was topped only by the failure of the siege of Savannah in October 1779, where nearly 250 Patriots were killed in an attempt to regain the port. The largest geographical gain was by the British, who took part of coastal Maine in June, and then successfully defended it, withstanding the siege with the 10 vessels of the Royal Navy completely outclassing the 37 naval vessels coming to reclaim the area, capturing or destroying all of the opposition.86 During the same year, but outside the territory of the United States, the French captured Grenada, with its full capitulation on 5 July. The following day, on 6 July, 21 British battleships that were meant to stop the invasion arrived (too late) and then proceeded to battle 25 French vessels. Although neither side lost a ship, the British nearly lost four of theirs, and, with over 1,000 casualties, they had clearly had the worst of the encounter.87

18.

Spain Enters the Fray

As large as all these developments were, the most significant of all, in 1779, was the decision of Spain to join the war against Britain. King Charles III of Spain, like his French counterpart, had many historical reasons to want to hurt Britain. In the Spanish case, the anger was even more recent, having almost come to blows with them in 1770 over the Falkland Islands, after a Spanish expedition took possession of the tiny British settlement of Port Egmont, due to a belief that the British were interlopers. War was avoided, not because George III tried to keep the peace (‘providing the honour of the country could be preserved’), but because France at this point (and despite a recent alliance with them)88 was not willing to back Spain in another direct conflict with Britain. The result was, in early 1771, that the Spanish agreed to restore Port Egmont to Britain, although Spain avoided any explicit renunciation of their claim to the Falklands Islands.89 The Spanish (like the French) were also aware that for the first time in centuries, Britain had no strong alliance on the Continent. Conversely, Spain, had established a network of peace with its neighbours, such as Portugal, with which it traditionally warred (often on behalf of Britain). This occurred with the Treaty of San Ildefenso in early October 1777. This settled long-running territorial disputes between the two countries in South America and set up commissions to peacefully resolve any ongoing areas of disturbance to ‘prevent discord’90 between the two neighbours. The following year, in 1778, the neighbours went even further, with Portugal agreeing to deny the use of any of its ports to military or commercial vessels that were hostile to Spain.91 In light of these considerations, on 12 April 1779, the Treaty of Aranjuez,92 promising an offensive and defensive alliance, was concluded between France and Spain. With this both sides, committed to war with Britain, ‘to avenge their respective injuries … [and ending] that tyrannical empire which England … claims to maintain upon the ocean’.93 The agreement specified that the two sides would fight until Spain recovered Gibraltar, Minorca and Florida, and expelled the logwood cutters along the coast of Honduras. In essence, they wanted to reverse all the losses that were imposed in the Peace of Paris, which had ended the Seven

Years War. In return, Spain would help France secure the Newfoundland fishery, a stronger presence in India, and permanent possession of Dominica in the West Indies and Senegal in West Africa. Again, trying to reverse many of the losses from the Seven Years War. Just over two months later, on 16 June 1779, the Spanish issued what was, in effect, a declaration of war against Great Britain, and commenced an immediate blockade around Gibraltar. This particular siege would eventually occupy more than 40,000 Spanish and French troops against just over 7,000 British defenders, and cost those attacking, around 6,000 casualties.94

19.

Tupac’s Rebellion in Peru

The point to note about the Treaty of Aranjuez is that it was between Spain and France, not Spain and the United States. The reason the Spanish steadfastly refused to sign (until 1795)95 a direct treaty with the Americans (no matter how much the Americans wanted it)96 was at that point, they did not want, in any way, to be seen to encouraging rebellion in British colonies. Their fear that the such support could be used as fuel for rebellion in their own colonies. Even the defenders of the Spanish Crown could see that their model of governance which was emphatically royalist, state orientated, Catholic, merchantilist and deeply conservative in terms of social structure was slow to build positive relationships of equality and fairness with the indigenous populations, and this made it vulnerable. Many, inside and outside, of the Spanish colonies could see that those areas could be both freer, happier and wealthier if the Spanish Crown, Spanish aristocrats, Inquisition and its Churchmen, were exited.97 This vulnerability first appeared in 1680 was with the small Spanish settlement of Santa Fe (today, New Mexico in the United States) in which some 400 settlers were killed and the Spanish were ousted for more than a decade by the indigenous Pueblo people.98 The second, and much more substantial, uprising began in the Spanish colony of Peru a century later, on 4 November 1780. This was led by Jose Gabriel Condorcanqui (or his Inca name Tupac Amaru II) a Jesuit-educated great grandson of the last Inca king, who was the local ruler of the Tinta province. Angry over the cruelty and lack of justice in the Spanish administration of the region (including additional taxes for local purposes and attempts to reduce the prevalence of indigenous languages) he called for, inter alia, all slaves to be free, and an end to forced labour and tax reform. He wrapped his demands in a vision of harmony between the indigenous people, the Europeans, and those mixed between them. However, the uprising which followed ended as the antithesis of harmony. The challenge that grew to include tens of thousands of local indigenous followers, became a very indiscriminate conflict, in which nobles, in particular, whites in general and many Catholic leaders were all killed. The same fate awaited Tupac. After he was betrayed he was hung, drawn and quartered (on 18 May 1781) as the traditional punishment for treason. These actions, as part of a pattern of extreme brutality against those opposing the Spanish Crown, and strong rewards for those who were supporting it, was designed to prevent any general

revolt in the Spanish colonies in South America, similar to those occurring in the British colonies of North America. Accordingly, when a supplementary revolt (for economic and political reform) occurred New Grenada (now parts of Venezuela and Colombia) in late 1781, it too, was put down with great force.99

20.

A Global War

The British opened up a new strategy of trying to recover some of the southern colonies in America in 1780. At Charleston in South Carolina, the British achieved a stunning result when they captured over 5,400 Patriots, and inflicted casualties on a few hundred more, when the besieged area surrendered in mid-May. This was supplemented by engagements at Waxhaws Creek and Hanging Rock, recording between dozens and a couple of hundred casualties. Then, on 16 August at Camden (just over 100 miles from the coast in South Carolina), some 600 Patriots were killed and a further 1,000 taken prisoner when they attempted to overrun a supply depot. This was a significant British victory, which allowed them to strengthen their grip on the Carolinas. They followed this up with another victory at the Battle of Fishing Creek in South Carolina, two days later, on 18 August killing 150 and taking a further 300 prisoner. The Patriots reversed this trend of losses at Kings Mountain, inflicting 300 casualties on the opposition. However, such losses were now being overshadowed by the even-greater French involvement in the conflict, with France landing 12,000 troops to Rhode Island in July 1780.100 During the same year, 1780, the Spanish navy clashed ferociously with that of the British at the Cape of Saint Vincent (off southern Portugal). In this battle, the Spanish, who were outnumbered two to one in battleships, had one blown up (killing all but one of the 600 aboard), and six vessels captured. An even larger naval battle then occurred in mid-April 1780, when 22 French battleships fought 21 British near Martinique in the West Indies. Although, neither side was beaten, the wider French goal of going on to capture Barbados, and Antigua, as well as retaking Saint Lucia from Britain, was stalled. However, while the British stalled their opposition in the Caribbean, in India, as they fought Hyder Ali, they received one of their worst ever defeats. A combined British-India force of between 3,000– 7,000 were killed, wounded or captured.101

21.

The League of Armed Neutrality

Britain had hoped that 1780 would see a reversal in its fortunes, as it would be able to secure a solid ally, willing to directly help it in its fight in America. The ally they hoped for was Russia, which they desired would, ‘assist us against France and Spain, and our revolted colonies’.102 Although Catherine II liked the British and George III and had a certain degree of sympathy with their situation, she would not commit to the campaign unless there was a significant gain for Russia, and that gain was Minorca. When Britain made clear that

Minorca was not available for barter, negotiations fizzled out, and the idea of a Russo-British alliance was dropped.103 When it was clear to the Russians that they could form a partnership with Britain to fight against the United States, they resolved that they would not be stopped by Britain from trading with the rebellious colony, if they (Russia) wanted to.104 Britain viewed this intention very poorly, as it was trying to restrain trade going into an area which it believed was in unjustified rebellion, and should therefore be isolated, not encouraged with trade. While the theory of international law was that neutral countries should be allowed to trade noncontraband material to either side in a conflict, the practice was weak and neutral vessels were frequently stopped, inspected and sometimes impounded, by countries that were trying to blockade a coastline. 105 To ensure that the trade could continue, in 1780 Russia, Denmark and Sweden insisted on their right to have ‘scrupulously neutral’106 trade with the complete prohibition of all contraband trade (which was narrowly restricted to munitions and arms), to all countries with which they were not at war. This meant that these countries would place their vessels in armed convoys, to insist and enforce upon their right, as neutrals, to ship non-contraband material to the United States. This goal was settled in a sequence of maritime conventions, which became known as the Armed Neutrality pact, as Austria (in 1781) and Portugal (in 1782) joined the group.107 Despite the simplicity of these goals, there was considerable debate and tension with Britain over the extent of searches of neutral ships trying to enter blockaded zones and what was contraband, with a large grey area over matters such as materials used for the construction or maintenance of boats, known as ‘naval stores’. To the Dutch, naval stores were not contraband. To the British, they were. This meant that when the British vessels intercepted a Dutch ship just as the regime on Armed Neutrality was coming into force and alleged they found contraband on it, they used this as evidence that the merchants of Amsterdam were not neutral and were in direct partnership with the rebels in America. Britain then declared war on the Dutch in December of 1780. The Dutch, while accepting the invitation of war with Britain, then added to their response, a treaty of alliance with France,108 and a treaty of friendship, commerce and free trade with the United States.109 However, the Danes, Swedes and Russians, despite being part of the League of Armed Neutrality did not go to war against Britain.

22.

The Last Years of the Conflict

By 1781, Britain was now at war with the United States, France, Spain and the United Provinces. Although they had access to some hired auxiliary troops from some parts of the Holy Roman Empire, fundamentally, they were fighting alone. They were fighting the America, the Caribbean, India and the Mediterranean. The year 1781 began well for the Patriots with their first victory recorded in mid-January, near Cowpens in South Carolina, in which they completely destroyed a British force of just

over 1,000, killing a tenth of them and wounding or taking prisoner the vast majority of the rest. Further to the south, by early May, a Spanish force of 7,400 soldiers and militia captured the city of Pensacola (killing over 150 and taking 1,100 prisoner) thus giving them the control over much of West Florida, leaving only the town of St Augustine in British hands. To the north, after the Patriot leaders resolved ongoing concerns about pay and mutiny within their own forces, the rest of the battles of this year, at Guilford Courthouse, Hobkirk’s Hill, New London, the siege of Ninety Six, and at Eutaw Springs, usually reflected casualty rates in the low hundreds, and typically, tactical or disputed victories to the British.110 Whilst the British could hold their ground in these smaller engagements, the real event of 1781 was the siege, and surrender, of Yorktown in Virginia, on 19 October.111 This surrender of some 7,600 British forces (the largest British surrender until the Second World War) to a combined force of perhaps 16,000 Patriot and French forces showed, unequivocally, that critical strategic victories and tactical superiority could be achieved, and with this success the war in the United States effectively ended. That is, although there was a few small engagements in 1782 (notably at Blue Licks on 19 August, when 300 Native Americans and Loyalists attacked a group of Kentucky militia, killing 72), the war was, for all effective purposes over. The British had been forced from all areas in today’s United States, except around New York and Long Island, Charleston (in South Carolina) and Savannah (in Georgia), where they remained until peace was agreed.112 Although the fighting in the United States was effectively concluded during 1781, elsewhere, the war against Britain raged on, with clashes on the high seas over many of the world’s oceans being notable in 1781. For example, off Africa, near the Cape Verde Islands, at the battle of Porto Praya in the middle of April, five French warships gained a tactical victory over the equal number of British vessels. At Martinique in the Caribbean, at the end of the same month, 20 French battleships got the better of 18 British, forcing them to retreat. At Dogger Bank (between Denmark and Britain) seven Dutch ships fought an equal number from Britain, for a tactical draw (with both sides losing over 100 men). In the middle of the year, the French captured Tobago, in early August, and another equal clash between the Dutch and British occurred (from which both sides claimed victory), before matters culminated at Virginia Capes/Chesapeake (off Virginia, United States) where 24 French battleships (despite taking a couple of hundred casualties) out-manoeuvred 19 British ships. This action prevented the British from relieving or evacuating their forces suffering in the Yorktown siege, while allowing French forces to land with the necessary siege equipment and additional reinforcements.113 In terms of land battles outside America, the Spanish and French recaptured Minorca in February 1782 taking some 2,500 prisoners in the effort. However, the French and Spanish could not replicate the process in the capture of Gibraltar, where they made one last major attempt, but failed, losing 1,500 men. Of battles further afield in 1782, the first major naval battle of the year occurred at Saint Kitts, in late January, when 22 British warships inflicted greater damage on the 29 French than they received. However, they could not stop the invasion of Saint Kitts and Nevis, which surrendered on 12 February. The biggest battle of all followed on 12 April, when 34 British warships intercepted 29 French ships which were

intent on invading Jamaica. In this battle, the British got the upper-hand, and although they suffered about 1,000 casualties, inflicted five times as many on the French, sinking one, and capturing four, of their vessels. However, the following month, in May, the British lost the Bahamas, which surrendered without a fight after being confronted by a Spanish force of 59 ships, nearly triple what the English could muster in defence.114 Off India, the arrival in February 1782 of a French fleet and the landing (despite British attempts to prevent this at the Battle of Sadras) of 3,000 French troops in support of Hyder Ali caused consternation. At the Providien outcrop (off the east coast of Sri Lanka), in April, the French won a tactical victory. The British replied with a tactical naval victory at Negapatam, but lost the land (which they had only recently taken from the Dutch) before the end of the shooting. This loss put the British in a weak position as they lost the only port on the Coromandel coast, while the French could now threaten the Bay of Bengal. Following the biggest naval engagement off India during this conflict, a draw was recorded at the Battle of Trincomalee (in north-east Sri Lanka) on 3 September, when 15 French battleships fought 12 British ones. Both sides received similar casualties, but the French (and the Dutch) failed to hold the land, which the British successfully occupied. This was similar to the last engagement of the war on land, at Cuddalore, when as British forces were fighting the French and their Mysore allies on land (and coming off the worst), 18 British ships battled an equal number of French ones, were forced to retreat, but at an equal loss of casualties.

23.

Peace

There was no way of disguising the fact that Britain was on the back foot. Although they held Canada and a few footholds in the United States, the rest had been lost. They were also losing possessions in the Caribbean, India and the Mediterranean. In addition, there was the financial fatigue and a growing body count. Finally, to top it off, the list of countries willing to fight them, or move into armed neutrality (and defy British wishes) was growing, not shrinking.115 With all of these factors in consideration, all sides agreed it was time to make peace. The negotiation process went on from late 1782 (when an armistice was agreed) until August 1783.116 The majority of the peace settlement was then unveiled on 3 September 1783. On this day, the peace with the United States was made public (with the so-called Treaty of Paris)117 and then, on the same day, with both France118 and Spain119 (with the so-called Treaties of Versailles). A preliminary peace treaty was agreed with the Dutch, but this was not finalised until 20 May 1784.120 While the British were simply relieved the war was over, the Americans, French, Spanish and Dutch all celebrated. (a) The Settlement between Britain and the Allies of the United States The 1783 peace between Britain and France began with a joint commitment to a ‘universal

and perpetual peace’121 and upholding all of the existing foundation treaties (including, inter alia, 1648, 1713, 1748 and 1763), unless they were inconsistent with the new deal. This new deal undid some of the losses France incurred with the earlier wars with Britain. Specifically, although Newfoundland remained British, the Islands of Saint Pierre and Miquelon were ceded to France.122 Fishing rights in the area were re-organised around Newfoundland and confirmed in the Gulf of Saint Laurence.123 Tobago and Saint Lucia were restored to France (in which the Protestants therein were to have their religious freedom protected) while France returned Grenada, St Vincent, Dominica, St Christopher, Nevis and Monserrat to the British.124 With Africa, Britain ceded to France the river Senegal and five associated forts, as well as the island of Goree. Conversely, France guaranteed Britain the possession of the river Gambia, and its associated forts.125 With India, Britain restored to France, ‘all of the settlements which belonged to [Louis XV] at the beginning of the present war, upon the coast of Orisa, and in Bengal’. Britain then went further, guaranteeing France, ‘a safe, free and independent trade’ along the coasts of Orisa, Coromandel and Malabar. In addition, Pondicherry, and also Karikal, Mahe and Sarat, were to be delivered to the French.126 Finally of note, all of the previous treaty obligations for the military neutralisation of Dunkirk were abrogated.127 With the treaty between Britain and Spain the same ‘universal and perpetual peace’ was agreed between the two belligerents. To oil this promise, Britain promised to ‘relinquish all rights to Florida … and guarantees … [Spain] … the possession of them’.128 Britain also ‘ceded, in full right to [Spain] the island of Minorca’.129 However, Gibraltar, unconquered, remained in the hands of the British. The woodcutters around Honduras were allowed to remain within a tightly circumscribed area, but they had to dismantle all their forts. The other win for Britain was that Spain agreed that the islands of Providence and the Bahamas could be restored to them.130 Finally, with the peace deal with the Dutch, they agreed to return Negapatam in India to the British, as the British agreed to return Trincomalee to them. All other territories that either of them had occupied of the other, were also to be returned. These returns were supplemented by promises not to interfere with the navigation of the subjects of each other, while the age-old dispute between the two of them, about protocol on the high seas and ‘the honours of the flag and the salute at sea’,131 going back to the custom, as it was practiced before the war. (b) The Settlement between Britain and the United States The first article of the Treaty of Paris had King George III recognise the 13 states that it had fought: To be free sovereign and independent states, that he treats with them as such, and for himself, his heirs, and successors, relinquishes all claims to the government, propriety, and territorial rights of the same and every part thereof.

The second article of this treaty tried to settle the boundaries to the west, and with Canada. The third article gave the United States fishing rights around the banks of Newfoundland. Although the Americans had wanted Canada, this was unacceptable to the British, but they did get New York (which the British finally evacuated on 25 November 1783). With all these matters said and done, the two sides could then attempt to forgive, and move forward. An excellent example of this was recorded on 1 June 1785, when John Adams went to London, and met with George III. At this meeting, George explained: I have done nothing in the late contest but what I thought myself indispensably bound to do, by the duty which I owed to my people … I was the last to consent to the separation; but the separation having been made, and having become inevitable, I have always said, as I say now, that I would be the first to meet the friendship of the United States as an independent power … let the circumstances of language, religion and blood have their natural and full effect.132

24.

The Native American Question

The question of the Native Americans who had helped the British, and/or wished to pursue an independent path from the United States, was more difficult, as when the British left, although some tribes moved to Canadian territories, the vast majority were left where they were. To these people, George Washington felt that while the loyal tribes should be rewarded (as largely followed) by having their lands guaranteed, hostile tribes should be informed of the Treaty of Paris, and in addition to upholding its obligations (such as the return of prisoners), should be prepared to cede land to the Americans (as reparations for the costs of the war). However, the expectation was that the ceding of land was to be one via the exchange of money, not taken with firearms.133 The problem was that the United States was in heavy debt, so no payments were possible (even if the Congress wanted to). The result, between 1784 and 1786, was six treaties (involving 10 tribes, and eclipsing some of the earlier agreements), whereby the tribes which had been hostile to the forces of the United States during the war, although they would receive some territory for their exclusive use and control had to relinquish considerable tracts of land. For example, with the Treaty of Fort Stanwix/Six Nations of 22 October 1784, peace was promised, but the signatories had to provide hostages, and their lands were surveyed, to which they had to, ‘yield to the United States, all claims to the country west of the said boundary’.134 In exchange, what lands they retained would be guaranteed to them. For the Iroquois, this effectively confined them, as a conquered nation, to relatively small areas of central New York and northern Pennsylvania. Likewise, with the Treaty between the United States and the Wyandot in late January 1785, three chiefs accepted the new boundaries, and also acknowledged: [T]hemselves and all their tribes to be under the protection of the United States and of no other sovereign whatsoever.135

The next step the United States took was with their Northwest Ordinance in 1787. This provided for a system of governance in the Northwest Territory (the area bounded by the Ohio and Mississippi rivers and the Great Lakes). The intention of Congress was to survey it,

divide it into three or five new states to join the existing 13 members of the United States, and sell much of this land to offset the costs of the war fighting Britain. To prepare this objective, some tribes which were perceived to be hostile, and not yet subject to any treaty, were attacked (from 1786). For those that were subject to a treaty, Congress now, having found some money, began to offer some payments for what they were about to take. However, most of the tribes in Northwest Territory refused to attend these meetings with the representatives of the new government of the United States. As they failed to turn up, the earlier treaties were repudiated, making war in the Northwest Territory inevitable.136 The likelihood of a clash was made certain when the Constitution of the United States became functional in 1789. At this point, although the importance of treaties with Native American tribes was now to be treated as the same seriousness as treaties with foreign nations, the focus of the government was in preparing for a comprehensive engagement against hostile tribes. The strategy adopted was to war against some, negotiate with some (the southern tribes), and settle with others (the Six Nations/Iroquois). The Congress also passed laws to regulate trade and commercial exchanges with the tribes, so as to prevent fraud and other misdeeds: They also prevented individual sales of land (outside the original 13 colonies) with all dealings and sales having to go through federal authorities. For those to be fought against, the Northwestern Indian War began in 1790 and ended in 1795. This brutal conflict was fought along the Appalachian frontier. This involved the battle on 4 November 1791, when what may have been the largest Native American army ever assembled – 11 eastern tribes, of up to 3,000 men – attacked an American camp on the banks of the Wabash river in Ohio. This resulted in 593 soldiers and militia killed, and 257 wounded, out of a total of 868. Over 200 camp followers were also killed in what was the greatest loss ever inflicted by a Native American force north of the Rio Grande. This loss was also higher than any battle in their war with Britain. Although this was a significant loss, the army and militia had the capacity to rebuild quickly, and continue the pursuit of the enemy and slowly grind them down. The conclusion of this process, with the last major engagement occurring in 1794, was when perhaps 100 warriors were surrounded and killed. From this dominance on the battlefield, the troops then went on to destroy all the villages and crops in the area. The total dead for the military and the militia over this entire campaign was over 1,000, which made this the most costly, in terms of battle deaths, of all the wars fought by the United States army against Native Americans.137 The conclusion of the bloodshed was the 1795 Treaty of Fort Greenville. This not only promised peace and friendly commerce between the United States and the tribes of the region, it also set down extensive demarcation lines. The treaty explained these were necessary, ‘… to indemnify the United States for the injuries and expenses they have sustained during the war’. Accordingly: [T]he said Indian tribes do hereby cede and relinquish forever, all their claims to the lands lying eastwardly and southwardly of the general boundary line now described …138

25.

What the Americans Fought for

Aside the independence from Britain which had been won, exactly what other items the Americans had been fighting for became very clear immediately after the war. First, the Northwest Ordinance was passed on 13 July 1787. Next to the question of land (see below), the ordinance was important as it set down some of the basic principles that would have to be part of the new states that were to be formed in the northwest. Of note, were the rights to be granted to the citizens, which included, inter alia, freedom of religion, trial by jury and the provision of education. In addition, slavery was to be prohibited in the new areas.139 The Constitution of the United States, (which went beyond the original Articles of Confederation) as presented on 28 September 1787, was ratified the following year on 21 June 1788. This followed long debates about the degree of federalism and centralisation that would, or would not, be best suited for the United States. This was a radical document, as it was the first agreement in modern history adopted by the representatives of the people, and not the monarch acting alone, or custom forming the guiding light. The significance of this development was made clear with the scene setting phrase of ‘we the people’. The document then organised the constitutional framework with, amongst other concerns, a Supreme Court, as well as a Congress made up of a Senate and House of Representatives and a President, all interwoven in an elaborate set of checks and balances. All of this was necessary to give longevity to the republic and achieve their goals of justice and liberty.140 Due to the ongoing debates over the level of federalisation required to run the United States, a series of amendments were added to the Constitution, as a Bill of Rights, on 3 November 1791.141 The first amendment ensured that Congress would: [M]ake no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

The second amendment was that, ‘a well-regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed’. The third prevented the quartering of soldiers in times of peace in private abodes; the fourth prevented unreasonable search and seizure. The fifth covered judicial protections including due process. The sixth built on this, with speedy trials, witness procedures, neutral decision makers and local justice, and the seventh amendment added the importance of trial by jury, while the eighth prohibited excessive bail or unusual punishments. The ninth and tenth, then made clear that any rights not expressly given to the Congress in the Constitution, belonged to the individual states.

26.

The United States and the Wider World in the 1790s

After their War of Independence, the United States was tentative in engaging in international affairs. Nevertheless, during the 1780s they made treaties of friendship and commerce with Prussia,142 and Sweden,143 and continued to build on their existing relationship with

France.144 Of note, in 1778 on 6 February, one treaty of friendship and commerce145 was supplemented with a second treaty of alliance. The first article of this treaty stipulated: If war should break out between France and Great Britain during the continuance of the present war between the United States and England, his Majesty [the French King] and the said United States, shall make it a common cause, and aid each other mutually with their good offices, their counsels, and their forces … as becomes good and faithful allies.146

Additional articles talked about, amongst other topics, both sides taking ‘all of the efforts in its power against their common enemy’,147 and acting together in common purpose.148 Where the United States continued to experience tension in the international realm was with Britain. The tension was because, contrary to the promises made in 1783, Britain had retained control of many of the Northwest posts and had failed to make compensation for the removal of certain property, such as slaves (who had supported the British). They refused because the British had counterclaims against the Americans for debts from before the war and unnecessary losses caused during it. In addition, there were ongoing concerns about the interference with neutral trade. With all these concerns, war seemed imminent towards the end of the eighteenth century. However, rather than go back to fighting, both sides opted for a peaceful resolution of their outstanding issues. For America, this made sense to the majority (but a minority strongly disagreed) as the young United States was only just starting to emerge into full statehood. For Britain, war with France restarted in the 1790s and it did not wish further distractions. The result was the Treaty of Amity, Commerce and Navigation between Britain and the United States, or more commonly, the Jay Treaty (named after the American diplomat who was at the forefront of these negotiations).149 The Jay Treaty began with the promise that the two countries would enjoy a ‘firm, inviolable and universal peace and a true and sincere friendship’.150 The British then promised to withdraw, by the middle of 1796, all their ‘troops and garrisons from all posts and places within the boundary lines’151 as agreed in 1783. Where there was uncertainty over Mississippi-related boundary concerns, the two sides agreed a joint survey, as a stepping stone towards ‘amicable negotiation to regulate the boundary line …’152 A ‘reciprocal and entirely perfect liberty of negotiation and commerce’153 was agreed between the two nations, in terms of both access to ports, and most-favoured nation status. Promises of controlling reprisals, and rules for the inspection of neutral vessels suspected of carrying contraband, were also agreed so as not to inflame situations.154 Finally, in an excellent example of how talking, rather violence, could resolve difficulties, an arbitration process was created. This involved three commissions, to deal with the disputes about the commercial debts owed between the countries, from before, during, and after (in terms of confiscations) the War of Independence.155 With these, each government, after accepting, broadly, that the claims of the other were legitimate and should be compensated fairly, had to appoint two commissioners, while the chairperson, in the absence of a majority vote, was to be chosen by lot. This process worked from 1799 to 1804, rendering 536 awards. This was deemed such a success that the arbitration then became incorporated into many subsequent treaties in the nineteenth century.156 Following the Jay Treaty, in the following year, 1795, the Americans also struck a treaty

of friendship, boundaries, commerce and navigation with Spain. This deal, known as the Pinkney Treaty ended the tension between the two over the southern and western boundaries, the manipulation of tribes, and promised a ‘firm and inviolable peace and sincere friendship’ going forwards.157 Finally of note in terms of entering into new treaty relationships, from the second half of the last decade of the eighteenth century, the United States struck a sequence of treaties of peace, friendship and commerce with Muslim North Africa. These agreements covered Algiers in 1795,158 Tripoli in 1796159 and Tunis in 1799.160

27.

The French Revolution and the Turn Towards Isolationism

Although the United States had managed to reconcile with Britain and Spain, it almost entered into a conflict with France. While it is true that the Americans owed a large political and economic debt of gratitude to the French (and, implicitly, to their monarchs who ensured their survival during their war of independence), with the revolutionary French Republic, matters were more tricky. The difficulties moved from philosophical to political when, soon after the execution of Louis XVI, the Americans refused to pay back the economic debt they owed, arguing that this was owed to a previous administration, which had ceased to exist. Accordingly, the economic debt had evaporated. Although the French Republic repudiated the debts that the French Monarchy had acquired in exactly the same way, they took a different view of the debts owed to them (such as by the Americans), which they still expected to be repaid. The Americans also started to get annoyed as some of their citizens, including the revolutionary writer Thomas Paine, were swept up in the French purges of the revolution (Paine narrowly escaped execution).161 Despite these tensions, President George Washington proclaimed neutrality, promising to be ‘friendly and impartial’162 to all the belligerent nations in the wars involving France, and not favouring the French revolutionary government over any other. The best evidence of this approach was with the conclusion of the Jay Treaty, noted above, in which the Americans and British vowed to work out their differences peacefully. The French saw the Jay Treaty as an act of betrayal and inconsistent with their joint commitments that France and the United States had made towards each other in their 1778 Treaty of Alliance. The result was that from early 1796, the French authorities licenced French privateers to seize American merchant ships. Over 300 of these were taken in that year, alone. As the tensions with France were escalating, George Washington stepped down from his second term as President. In his farewell address of 19 September 1796, he tried to point the United States towards a future that was sceptical of foreign engagements. He specifically denounced the ‘insideous wiles of foreign influence’ and the politicians who wanted involvement in European warfare. He believed that the security, prosperity and happiness of Americans depended on having ‘as little political connection as possible’163 with foreign

nations. The second President of the United States, John Adams, came to power in 1797. Although he was personally sceptical of the French revolutionaries (and especially their antireligious stance), he dispatched three envoys to Paris in an attempt to restore harmony between the United States and France. However, negotiations proved impossible as the French demanded low-interest loans from the United States; that the Americans accept the costs of the claims of the seized merchants, and even provide bribes for the personal benefit of the French negotiator, before formal discussions could start. As the Americans wavered, the French demands increased, and included a threat of war if the American envoys did not capitulate. The Americans refused to capitulate, and, although the French reduced most of their demands (when they saw that the Americans would not back down), the French would not agree to stopping their seizures of American merchant vessels.164 This situation profoundly shocked the young nation of the United States. The country, which had essentially demilitarised after their war of independence, found itself in need of a radical reappraisal of its identity and position in the wider world as it faced unanticipated risks to its national security. The response of President Adams meant that the Congress prepared for (but did not declare) war. To achieve such an objective required a much greater federalisation of the United States than had previously been agreed. This was necessary to create and pay for a modern navy, in addition to the serious upgrading of the army, to prevent a possible invasion by France. In political terms, in addition to the levying of new taxes to pay for a growing national military, four pieces of legislation which made up the Alien and Sedition Acts were passed in 1798. These laws were the Naturalisation Act (which prevented aliens from countries at war with America applying for citizenship; and those that could apply were able to be monitored); the Alien Act (which allowed the President to deport anyone suspected on reasonable grounds of ‘treasonable or in secret machinations against the government’),165 the Aliens Enemies Act (allowing for the internment of foreign aliens of enemy countries in times of war) and the Sedition Act. This last law made it a crime with a possible two years in jail, to, inter alia: [P]rint, utter, or publish, or shall cause of procure to be written, printed, uttered or published, or shall knowing … assist and aid … and false, scandalous and malicious writing … against the government of the United States … or the Congress … or the President … with intent to defame … or [bring them] into contempt or disrepute or to excite against them … the hatred of the good people of the United States.166

As it was, although the foundations for a permanent military and federal taxation remained (and the drive towards greater federalisation), the Alien and Sedition Acts were short-lived and only barely utilised. There was, however, an exodus of French nationals from the United States, and a souring of taste towards this country which had been one of the best friends the United States ever had. This distaste was short-lived, as the risk of conflict with France disappeared with the Convention of Peace, Commerce and Navigation of 1800 between the two nations.167 The most significant aspect of this 1800 accord was that the defensive alliance of 1778 was annulled. Although happy with this conclusion, this had been such a bitter experience for the young Republic that it would be nearly a century and a half before

the United States entered into another formal alliance with a foreign power.168

28.

Conclusion

By comparison to other major conflicts of the period, the death toll of the War of American Independence was surprisingly small. However, the impact of the revolution was remarkably large, as a group of colonists broke free from the tutelage of Britain to create what became the most powerful nation in the world, while providing a powerful precedent for others. This war about freedom came from, ironically, some of the most free people on the planet at that point who were under the governance of the most benign constitutional monarchy in power. That is, unlike so many others who lived under various forms of autocratic government, the colonies in America had, by far, greater liberties than most, especially in terms of a religious tolerance, freedom of speech and a quickly emerging free press. These liberties, combined with their emerging sense of self-identity, and a growing realisation that these people (and the word ‘people’ is critical here) could govern themselves. The actual sparks for the American War of Independence were about two considerations. The first was that populations need to either consent to taxes upon them, or at least, have representation on the bodies that make those taxes. Second, that wherever possible, matters of local importance, from the administration of justice through to the determination of how to deal with different neighbours (ie Native Americans) should not be decided by London. By themselves, these principles were unlikely to be sufficient to spark a war. However, the reaction of Britain, in terms of punishment and removing liberties already granted to the Americans, was sufficient to spark the conflict. The British colonies would not have become the United States were it not for French support. The French, who were then supplemented in the fighting by the Spanish and then the United Provinces, were also greatly helped by countries like Russia, who demanded their right to trade with whom they wanted, even if they were considered to be rebels by Britain. The core of this support, with the French and the Spanish, was about poking Britain in the eye. It was not about the abstract principles of liberty that the American revolutionaries were talking. If anything, the highly autocratic kings of France and Spain deeply disliked such ideas (and feared what could become of their own realms if these ideas spread). However, they disliked Britain more, and, for the first time in age, they had a real chance to win as Britain had no allies on the Continent to counter-weight a struggle in the colonies. Peace for the rebels involved Britain recognising the full sovereignty of the United States. Peace for Britain and the American allies meant a return of various colonial assets that had been lost in earlier conflicts. For the Americans, the next step after the peace was twofold. First, they filled out the thinking of the type of liberty for citizens (their Bill of Rights) and political organisation (their Constitution) for the governance structure that they desired. Second, they had to also work out where they fitted in the international architecture. To this, they proceeded slowly, and provided excellent examples of how difficulties with former adversaries could be dealt with peacefully, rather than with more violence. However, with their former ally, France, they

found that their (French) revolution produced demands which were both manipulative and unpalatable. The extent of this distaste became so great, that the United States developed a strong tendency for isolationism, rather than integration, in world affairs.

1 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 133–34. 2 Blackburn, R (1998). The Making of New World Slavery. (Verso, NYC). 281–82. 3 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 451; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press Cambridge, 1957). VII: 509, 511; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 159. 4 This quote is in Blackburn, R (1998). The Making of New World Slavery. (Verso, NYC). 257. 5 Carsten, F (ed). The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 342–45, 352. 6 Article III of the Pennsylvania Charter of Privileges. This is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 40. 7 Congleton, B (2018). ‘A Short History of Constitutional Liberalism in America’. Constitutional Political Economy. 29(2): 137–70; Stasavage, D (2010). ‘Geographical Scale and the Development of European Representative Assemblies’. American Political Science Review. 104(4): 625–43; Gerber, S (2011). ‘The Origins of an Independent Judiciary in New York, 1621–777’. Social Philosophy and Policy. 28(1): 179–201; Greaves, R (1992). ‘Radicals, Rights and Revolution: British Nonconformity and the Roots of the American Experience’. Church History. 61(2): 151–68; Miller, J (1991). ‘Direct Democracy and the Puritan Theory of Membership’. The Journal of Politics. 53(1): 57–74; Woodhouse, A (1938). ‘Puritanism and Democracy’. The Canadian Journal of Economics and Political Science. 4(1): 1–21. 8 The 1733 Molasses Act is reprinted in Commager, ibid, I: 42. 9 As quoted in Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 51. 10 See the 1766 Convention between France and Britain, as in 43 CTS 331. 11 See the 1766 Treaty of Amity and Commerce between Britain and Russia, as at 43 CTS 365. 12 Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 280; Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 256. 13 The 1754 Albany Plan of Union is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 43. Also, Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, Harlow) 120. 14 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 123; Osborn, W (2000). The Wild Frontier. (Random House, NYC). 130–33. 15 The Proclamation of 1763 can be found in Commager, ibid, I: 47. 16 Middleton, R (2013). The American War of Independence. (Routledge, Abingdon). 3–4. 17 Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 210. 18 Goodwin, A (ed). The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 455, 481. 19 See Otis, J. ‘The Rights of the British Colonies Asserted and Proved’. This is reprinted in Beloff, M (ed.) The Debate on the American Revolution, 1761––1783. (Kaye, London, 1949). 47, 69. 20 The Stamp Act is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 53. 21 The Quartering Act is reprinted in Commager, ibid, I: 61. 22 The Virginia Stamp Act Resolutions are in Commager, ibid, I: 55. 23 Cohen, C (1981). ‘The Liberty or Death Speech’. The William and Mary Quarterly. 38(4): 702–17. 24 The Resolutions of the Stamp Act Congress are in Commager, ibid, I: 57. Note also John Dickinson’s speech from

this event, ‘Address on the Stamp Act’. This is reprinted in Beloff, M (ed.) The Debate on the American Revolution, 1761– 1783. (Kaye, London, 1949). 89. Also, Bullion, J (1992). ‘British Ministers and American Resistance to the Stamp Act’. The William and Mary Quarterly. 49(1): 89–107; Sproule, M (1975). ‘Argument from Circumstance and Definition in Polemics Against the Stamp Act, 1765–1766’. Today’s Speech. 23(2): 17–24. 25 This quote is from George Granville, in his speech to the House of Commons. This is reprinted in Beloff, M (ed.) The Debate on the American Revolution, 1761–1783. (Kaye, London, 1949). 97, 98. 26 This quote from William Pitt, ‘Reply to Granville, Speech in the House of Commons’ is reprinted in Beloff, ibid, 100, 105. Also, Dulany, D. ‘Considerations on the Propriety of Imposing Taxes in the British Colonies’, and Soame, J. ‘The Objections to the Taxation of Our American Colonies’. These are both in Beloff at 73 and 77. 27 The Declaratory Act is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 61. 28 Ibid. 29 The Townshend Revenue Act’ is reprinted in Commager, ibid. I: 63. Also, Ramsbey, T (1987). ‘The Sons of Liberty: The Early Inter-Colonial Organisation’. The International Review of Modern Sociology. 17(2): 313–35. 30 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 457, 483. 31 Hume, as noted in Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 444. Also, Smith, R (1976). ‘The Boston Massacre: A Study in Public Relations’. Public Relations Review. 2(4): 25–33. 32 Irvin, B (2003). ‘Tar, Feathers and the Enemies of American Liberties, 1768–1776’. The New England Quarterly. 76(2): 197. 33 The New York Sons of Liberty Resolutions on Tea is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 70. 34 Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 199. 35 See Burke’s speech of 22 March 1775, ‘On Conciliation with America’. This is in Buchan, J (ed.) Burke’s Political Writings. (Nelson, London). 120–88. 36 The Boston Port Act is reprinted in Commager, ibid, I: 71. 37 This quote is from Lord North, on 28 March 1774. This is in Commager, ibid, I: 72. 38 The Administration of Justice Act is in Commager, ibid, I: 73. 39 See Morin, M (2013). ‘The Discovery and Assimilation of British Constitutional Law Principles in Quebec, 1764– 1774’. Dalhousie Law Journal. 36(2): 581–61. 40 See Usner, D (2013). ‘John Adams and the Paradoxical Origins of Federal Indian Policy’. Journal of the Early Republic. 33(4): 607–41. 41 The Pennsylvania Resolution on the Boston Port Act is reprinted in Commager, ibid, I: 76. 42 The Virginia Instructions to the Continental Congress are in Commager, ibid, I: 79. 43 Jefferson, T (1774, August). ‘A Summary View of the Rights of British America’. This is reprinted in Beloff, M (ed.) The Debate on the American Revolution, 1761–1783. (Kaye, London, 1949). 159, 166. 44 The Declaration and Resolves of the First Continental Congress is reprinted in Commager, ibid, I: 83. See also, Middleton, R (2013). The American War of Independence. (Routledge, Abingdon). 10, 43. 45 George, as in Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 215. 46 Parker, as noted in as noted in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 503. See also, Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, Harlow) 208–9; Scheurman, G (1998). ‘Revisiting Lexington Green’. Social Education. 62(1): 10–15. 47 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 461. 48 This quote is in Middleton, R (2013). The American War of Independence. (Routledge, Abingdon). 13. 49 This quote, from Colonel William Prescott is in Cohen, ibid, 503. See also Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 448, 450.

50 Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 219. 51 The Declaration of the Causes is in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 92. 52 The Proclamation by the King for Supressing Rebellion and Sedition is in Commager, ibid, I: 96. 53 Thomas, D (1969). A Long Time Burning: A History of Literary Censorship in England. (Praeger, NYC) 100–2. 54 See Curtis, M (2000). Free Speech: The People’s Darling Privilege. (Duke University Press London). 46–49. 55 The subsidy treaties are reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 112, 118, 123, 125, 127, 129, 130 and 132. Baer, F (2015). ‘The Decision to Hire German Troops in the War of American Independence’. Early American Studies. 13(1): 111– 50. 56 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 467. 57 As quoted in Fixico, D (2018). Indian Treaties in the United States. (ABC, California). 84. 58 Thomas, D (1969). A Long Time Burning: A History of Literary Censorship in England. (Praeger, NYC) 102–4, 129. 59 Paine, T. ‘Of the Origin and Design of Government’ as in Foot, M (1987) (ed.) The Thomas Paine Reader. (Penguin. Harmondsworth). 67–79. 60 He suggested that Monarchy derived from, ‘nothing better than the principal ruffian of some restless gang, whose savage manners or pre-eminence in subtlety obtained him the title of chief among plunderers …’. Ibid, at 75. 61 The quotes in this paragraph are from Common Sense, as reprinted in Beloff, M (ed.) The Debate on the American Revolution, 1761–1783. (Kaye, London, 1949). 229, 234, 235, 238, 250, 256. 62 These words are from the preamble of the Declaration of Independence, as reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 100–2. 63 This section is from the indictment section of the Declaration of Independence, ibid. 64 This section is from the conclusion of the Declaration of Independence, ibid. 65 See, ‘Assisting the Rebels in North America’. This is reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 150–51. Also, Margerison, K (2015). ‘French Visions of Empire: Contesting British Power in India after the Seven Years War’. The English Historical Review. 130(544): 583–612. 66 McCullough, D (2005). 1776: America and Britain at War. (Penguin, Harmondsworth). 240–45, 272–80; Peckham, H (1958). The War for Independence: A Military History. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). 29–32, 50–57. 67 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 134; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, Harmondsworth). 455–60. 68 For the surrender of Saratoga, see 46 Consolidated Treaty Series 383. 69 Peckham, H (1958). The War for Independence: A Military History. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). 29, 58–59, 73–78, 88-89. 70 The Articles of Confederation are reprinted in 46 CTS 57. 71 Art II. 72 See arts II, III and VI. 73 Louis, as noted in Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 288. 74 For the treaty between 1775 France and Austria see, 46 CTS 99; with the Swiss, at 46 CLT 263. 75 For the five conventions establishing peaceful relations with its German neighbours (as Britain was busy trying to secure troops in related areas), see 47 CTS 1, 5, 11, 27 and 33. For the peace between Austria and Prussia, see 47 CTS 153. 76 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 86; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, Harmondsworth). 447; Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 256. 77 Stormont, as noted in Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 188.

78 The Treaty of Amity and Commerce is reprinted in 46 CTS 417. 79 The Treaty of Alliance Between France and the United States is reprinted in 46 CTS 447. 80 Art VI. 81 Art VII. 82 The Secret Agreement is reprinted in 46 CTS 457. 83 Peckham, H (1958). The War for Independence: A Military History. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). 95–101; Osborn, W (2000). The Wild Frontier. (Random House, NYC). 138–142. 84 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 462. 85 George, as in Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 240. 86 Osborn, W (2000). The Wild Frontier. (Random House, NYC). 142–44. 87 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 134, 135; Middleton, R (2013). The American War of Independence. (Routledge, Abingdon). 169–72. 88 See the 1768 treaty between France and Spain, as 44 CTS 55. 89 See the 1771 Reciprocal Declarations signed by the Spanish and British, in 44 CTS 421. 90 See the Treaty Between Spain and Portugal Concerning the Boundaries of their Respective Possessions in South America. This is reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 157. 91 See the 1778 Treaty of Peace and Friendship with Portugal, 46 CTS 479. 92 See the 1779 Treaty of Offensive and Defensive Alliance, in 47 CTS 115. 93 Preamble, ibid. See also, Bemis, S (1961). The Diplomacy of the American Revolution. (Bloomington, NYC). 85. 94 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 134. Middleton, R (2013). The American War of Independence. (Routledge, Abingdon). 160–61; Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 231. 95 See the 1795 Pinckney Treaty, as reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 168. 96 On the United States efforts to make an alliance with Spain, see Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 152–56. 97 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 500–10, 522–24; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC).171. 98 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 377. 99 See Walker, C (2014). The Tupac Amaru Rebellion. (Harvard University Press, NYC). Also, Means, P (1919). ‘The Rebellion of Tupac-Amaru II’. The Hispanic American Historical Review 2(1): 1–25. 100 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 134; Middleton, R (2013). The American War of Independence. (Routledge, Abingdon). 174–77, 182–83; Peckham, H (1958). The War for Independence: A Military History. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). 151–55. 101 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 463-466. 102 This quote is from the British Foreign Office instructions to try to make a treaty with the Tsarina. It is reprinted in Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 487. 103 Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 488–89. 104 See the Declaration of Catherine II of Russia, Consolidated Treaty Series, Supp, Vol 1, at 44. 105 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 266; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 172–73. 106 This language is from the preamble of the Maritime Convention between Denmark and Russia, as at 47 CTS 345. 107 For that between Russia and Sweden, see 47 CTS 357, with Austria see 47 CTS 477, and Portugal 48 CTS 93. 108 See the 1781 Convention between France and the United Provinces, as in 47 CTS 457.

109 See the 1782 Treaty of Amity and Commerce Between the United States and the United Netherlands. This is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). III: 154. 110 Middleton, R (2013). The American War of Independence. (Routledge, Abingdon). 278–92. 111 See the Capitulation Agreement of Yorktown, as at 48 CTS 35. Also, Wright, J (1932). ‘Notes on the Siege of Yorktown in 1781 with Special Reference to the Conduct of a Siege in the Eighteenth Century’. The William and Mary Quarterly. 12(4): 230–50. 112 Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, Harlow) 219–23; Peckham, H (1958). The War for Independence: A Military History. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). 49. 113 Middleton, R (2013). The American War of Independence. (Routledge, Abingdon). 202, 247–48; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, Harmondsworth). 469–70. 114 Middleton, R (2013). The American War of Independence. (Routledge, Abingdoon). 306–10; Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 156–60. 115 As noted above, Britain lost about 15,000, France 10,000, the Spanish 5,000 and the Dutch, perhaps 500. Those fighting for independence, lost perhaps 6,800. Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 133–34. 116 For the steps in these negotiations, see Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 147–61. 117 The Definitive Treaty of Peace between Britain and the United States is in 48 CTS 487. 118 The Treaty of Peace between Britain and France is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). I: 495. 119 The Treaty of Peace between Britain and Spain is at 48 CTS at 481. 120 See the Preliminary articles of Peace and Friendship between France and Britain, as in 48 CTS 429, and then for the final, 49 CTS 65. 121 Art I. 122 Art IV. 123 Arts V and VI. 124 Arts VII and VIII. 125 Arts IX and X. 126 Arts XIII, XIV and XV. 127 Art XVII. 128 Art V of the Peace Treaty between Spain and Britain. This is reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 167. 129 Art IV. 130 Art VII. 131 See the Treaty of Peace and Friendship between Britain and the United Provinces. This is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). I: 192. 132 George, as quoted in Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 341. 133 For an example of compensation for the loyal tribes, see the 1794 Veterans’ Treaty. Reprinted in Axelrod, A (ed.) Encyclopedia of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I: 132–33. 134 See art III of the Second Treaty of Fort Stanwix. This is reprinted in Axelrod, ibid, I: 130. The updated Treaty of Fort Harmar/Six Nations is in the same volume, at 137. The 1794 Treaty of Canadaigua, also with the Six Nations, is at 140. 135 Art 2 of the Treaty between the United States and the Wyandot, as in 49 CTS at 215. 136 Fixico, D (2018). Indian Treaties in the United States. (ABC, California) 85–87.

137 See Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 13; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, Harmondsworth). 479; Osborn, W (2000). The Wild Frontier. (Random House, NYC). 155–59. 138 Article III of the Treaty of Fort Greenville. This is reprinted in Axelrod, A. (ed.) Encyclopedia of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I: 134. 139 The Northwest Ordinance is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 128. 140 The Constitution of the United States is reprinted in Commager, ibid, I: 138. 141 The First Ten Amendments/Bill of Rights of 1791, as reprinted in Commager, ibid, I: 146. 142 The 1785 Treaty of Amity and Commerce with Prussia and the United States is at 49 CTS 331. For the 1799 update, see 55 CTS 15. 143 The Treaty between Sweden and America is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). III: 312. 144 For the regulation of Consular Relations between the two, see 50 CTS 387. 145 The Treaty of Amity and Commerce is at 46 CTS 417. 146 Art 1 of the Treaty of Alliance between France and the United States is at 46 CTS 447. 147 Ibid, art 3. 148 Ibid, art 4. 149 The Jay Treaty is reprinted in 52 CTS at 243. 150 Preamble, of the Jay Treaty. 151 Art II. 152 Art IV. 153 Art X. 154 See arts XV, XVII and XXII. 155 See arts V, VI and VII. 156 See King, H (1996). ‘Origins of Modern International Arbitration’. Dispute Resolution Journal. 51(1): 42–60. 157 This quote is from art 1 of the 1795 Pinckney Treaty, as reprinted in 53 CTS 9. 158 The Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Commerce with Algiers and the United States, as in 52 CTS 461. 159 The Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Commerce with Tripoli and the United States is in 53 CTS 231. 160 The Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Commerce with Tunis and the United States is in CTS. Suppl Vol 1, No 55. 161 Also, Potofsky, A (2006). ‘The Political Economy of the French-American Debt Debate: The Ideological Uses of Atlantic Commerce, 1787–1800’. The William and Mary Quarterly. 63(3): 489–516; Thomas, D (1969). A Long Time Burning: A History of Literary Censorship in England. (Praeger, NYC). 136–40. 162 Washington’s Proclamation of Neutrality is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 162. 163 The Farewell Speech of Washington is in reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 169. The quote is from p 170. See also Bemis, S (1934). ‘Washington’s Farewell Address: A Foreign Policy of Independence’. The American Historical Review. 39(2): 250–68. 164 O’Neill, D (2007). ‘John Adams versus Mary Wollstonecraft on the French Revolution and Democracy’. Journal of the History of Ideas. 68(3): 451–76; Bradley, T (1996). ‘John Adams and the Coming of the French Revolution’. Journal of the Early Republic. 16(3): 361–87. 165 Section 1 of the Alien Act. 166 This quote is from article 2 of the Sedition Act of 1798, reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 177–78. See also, Hartnett, S (2006). ‘National Security and the Contested Rhetorical Norms of Republicanism in Post-Revolutionary America, 1798–1801’. Rhetoric and Public Affairs. 9(1): 79–112; Hale, M

(2003). ‘The Contest Over American National Identity, 1795–1798’. Early American Studies. 1(1): 127–75; Sidak, G (1992). ‘War, Liberty and Enemy Aliens’. New York University Law Review. 67(6): 1402–31; Godfrey, C (1914). ‘Organisation of the Provisional Army of the United States in the Anticipated War with France, 1798–1800’. The Pennsylvania Magazine of History. 38(2): 129–32. 167 See the Treaty of Peace, Commerce and Navigation between the United States and France, as in 55 CTS 343. 168 Lyon, W (1940). ‘The Franco-American Convention of 1800’. The Journal of Modern History. 12(3): 305–33.

VIII The French Revolution 1.

Introduction

T

was the culmination of all the radical thinking that was used to justify conflicts in this volume, that were not based around considerations of religion of autocracy. Here, what started with the Glorious Revolution in England moved to the American War of Independence, and then burst into its most forthright form, the French Revolution. However, the difference between all three was extreme. One ended up as constitutional monarchy, the other in independence for a former colony. In the case of France, it was a near unstoppable force on the international stage that turned their own society upside down. What began with the philosophies of the Enlightenment ended with the near absolute power of Napoleon. Between its beginning, and its end, the French Revolution unleashed war, in both principle and practice, unlike anything seen before it. This chapter only covers the first half of this story, up to the year 1800. HE FRENCH REVOLUTION

2.

Kings

(a) Louis XIV There is a very long tradition of royal absolutism for the monarchs of France.1 For the period of this book, the roots of the French revolution can be found in the tenure of their King, Louis XIV. This king was born on 5 September 1638. His father (Louis XIII) died when he was five, and he existed under the shadow of his regency until his personal rule began in 1661. He ruled until 1715. He inherited, and wielded, his absolute power, as many of his predecessors had done, and many of his neighbours continued to do. Louis XIV’s exercise of absolute power was a reflection of not only tradition, but also the world he was born into. The young man grew up the shadows of the Thirty Years War, before feeling the very real heat of the civil wars in France, known as the Fronde (or ‘slingshot’) between 1648 and 1653. In this messy domestic conflict, princes, nobility, parlements and peasants, all fought the Crown (at the same time as the war against the Spanish continued) and then each other, over, inter alia, the imposition of taxes, opulence, privilege, high food

prices, and constitutional matters such as the importance of counter-weights to the monarchy.2 By the time Louis was crowned at Reims in 1654, he had twice been forced to move his location because of the warfare of the Fronde. This occurred as Anne (his regent and mother) ran the business of dynastic and national survival, and the young man was schooled with the thinking of scholars such as Jacques-Benigne Bossuet who argued that, ‘royal power is absolute … the Prince need account to no one for what he ordains’;3 and ‘subjects owe their prince complete obedience’.4 With such a context Louis came to realise that the only way his majesty, and the state of France, could survive and prosper against the factionalism and division which nearly destroyed everything, was through the creation of a highly centralised, unified, and efficient French nation, with him as the unassailable apex of the equation with absolute power. He was, he asserted, ‘the State’ and possessed, ‘full authority over all people, secular and ecclesiastical’.5 Claiming religiously divined placement, he called himself ‘God on Earth’,6 answerable only to the (Catholic) God, and certainly not any other mortal being, including the religious hierarchy in Rome.7 Thus, although the First Estate (the Church) was important, it was still secondary to him. This apex position was, he explained, due to the special qualities he possessed of extraordinary intelligence, royal birth, dynastic inheritance and divine sanction. Drawing on the works of Copernicus who proved that the planets revolve around the sun, Louis XIV called himself the ‘Sun King’ because he was the centre of life in France. His well-known phrase, l’état, c’est moi (I am the state) captured the same idea.8 As he kept the Church in check, the only other bodies that could possibly challenge him were the parlements. However, this was very unlikely. There was no national body such as an Estates General with its three classes of clergy, nobility and commoners. The last time the Estates General had been gathered was decades earlier, in 1614. This omission meant that the only type of constitutional counterweight to the power of the king fell to the 13 parlements, of which one was in Paris and 12 were in the provinces. These were meant to be the courts of law of the king, with the duty – and the right – to approve and register legislation enacted by the king’s government at Versailles. These places were filled with non-elected local nobles with long hereditary claims and formed what was known as the ‘Second Estate’. Of all the parlements, the most important was the one in Paris. This was the accredited depository and the legal custodian of the majority of the laws that governed the land. Although there was never a written constitution as in England, the parlement of Paris still defended what laws it held in its possession. In addition, all the parlements had a voice which could (if absolutely necessary) remonstrate, or be critical via protest, of the king’s edicts if the parlement in question felt that they contravened customary law or the fundamental rights of the king’s subjects. The supreme act of remonstrance was not to register an edict of the monarch, as this, in essence, prevented the proposed law coming into operation. Louis made clear from the beginning of his reign that he was in charge of the parlements, not the other way around. This was made apparent when on 13 April 1655, he told the Paris parlement:

Everyone knows how much trouble your meetings have caused my state … I have learned that you intend to continue discussing the edicts which were recently published. I forbid you to do this.9

The French King made it known that when he wanted such advice from any such bodies, he would ask for it. This meant that any attempt to exercise their authority by refusing to register his edicts was met with swift action, telling them exactly what to do. The culmination of this thinking came in 1673, when the king stated that the parlements should immediately register all of his edicts without any modification or restriction, as soon as they were presented to them, and only afterwards present their remonstrances if they had any. In essence, this meant that they lost their right to protest against his actions or his edicts. Even if they tried to speak in a critical sense (after approving the king’s edicts), they would find their words blocked as there was no freedom of speech and censorship was tight, to which many books and pamphlets were banned, and local writers imprisoned.10 The final group, the Third Estate, who also lived within the majesty of the French monarchy, were the commoners. While the majority of these people managed to stay above raw poverty, perhaps 15 to 20 per cent of the French population was made up of beggars and paupers, with a further third existing just above subsistence levels. For these poor, Louis XIV mandated types of assistance. For example, from 1662, the establishment of hospitals for the poor was required throughout the realm while another law in 1680 created workhouses. These places provided a type of sanctuary for the vulnerable and the weak, but anyone 16 years or above who was able bodied would be tasked to ‘the harshest work that their bodies will stand’.11 Such measures, well meaning, perhaps, were not sufficient to stop repeated waves of social discontent, especially in 1674 and 1675, when there were widespread revolts by the poor, which could only be controlled with maximum pressure from the military. (b) Louis XV After the death of the Sun King, in the period of the regency of Louis XV, there was a push back against the absolutism of his grandfather, Louis XIV. To answer this, the Duke of Orleans (the regent of Louis XV) returned the right of remonstrance – that is, protest against the kings edicts – by the parlements and their ability to register royal edicts. The regent also ensured a smoother, and more independent, working of the government. The existing orders tried to work the new system to their advantage.12 When Louis XV took the helm in 1718, the position of the autocratic nature of the French king was reinstated, in which he was the sole legislator, the supreme chief of the administrative hierarchy, and the source of all justice. Despite his own disinterest in the position, there were no serious rival claimants to power in France. For most of his tenure, this was not a serious issue, although he did demonstrate his power when he exiled the parlement of Paris in 1732 when they refused to register a decree against a religious group of which the king disapproved. Over 100 of their magistrates were exiled. He told them, clutching his whip as he did so, ‘do not force me to show you that I am your master’.13 A greater display of his power occurred in the 1750s. This began in 1752 when the Paris,

and several of the provincial parlements, began to squabble with the recognised Catholic authorities over the control of dissident (Jansenist) priests. The following year, in 1753, the debates moved from the religious authorities, to the political authority, when the parlement of Paris refused to implement a special tax to pay for the (Seven Years) conflict which was about to start. This body issued a remonstrance against the proposed special tax, asserting its claim to be the repository and rightful defender of the fundamental laws of the kingdom and, if necessary, to resist even the king in the performance of its duties. Louis responded to this remonstrance by exiling the parlement of Paris. In reply, the lawyers in Paris went on strike, and for a short period the capital was in turmoil. The impasse was only broken in 1754, when a compromise was negotiated between the two sides. However, the resolution was short-lived as, in 1756, when the Seven Years War was at its height, the king demanded additional taxes to help pay for the conflict and inspectors were sent out to estimate the required assessments. The parlements raised an outcry. For example, the Toulouse parlement denounced the new measures, declaring: This type of inquisition [w]as unworthy of Your Majesty … [it] … is not unlike a census of slaves. Everything is uncovered, discussed, tested and assessed like goods whose use was allowed us by grace.14

Matters were so tense that, in early 1757, there was even an assassination attempt on the king. As some of the provincial parlements (in Pau and Rennes) continued to resist the royal will, they were dissolved and remodeled in the early 1760s. Although these actions only prompted more anger, the king would not back down. In 1766, again, there were strong disagreements between the king and the parlement of Paris. When this body asserted that it held rights, somehow independent of the king, he responded, ‘it is my person alone that the sovereign power resides’.15 Louis XV had to shout again in the early 1770s when some local parlements attempted to resist some of his orders. They refused because to enact them would, ‘cover it[self] with shame in the eyes of the people … destroying solemn and perpetually obeyed forms for the establishment of laws’.16 When the king attempted to enforce the registration of his edicts by appearing in person, the Paris parlement went on strike, suspended all administration of justice, and tried to combine with some of the provincial parlements, to form a confederation against the king. Louis acted quickly to stop this, forbidding them to combine, to suspend their functions, or to use their right of remonstrance. Before those who refused to do what they were told were sent into exile, they were reminded by the king’s Chancellor, that the king holds his crown: [F]rom God alone; the right to make laws for the guidance and government of our subjects belongs to us alone, and does not depend upon anybody else and is not shared with anybody.17

(c) Louis XVI Around April 1774, Louis XV took to bed a barely pubescent girl, who, unknown to the king, was carrying smallpox. Accordingly, he paid much more for the interaction than he expected,

as soon after he concluded his 59-year reign, dying on 10 May 1774. His successor was the 19-year-old Louis XVI, who was destined to be the last king of France. His wife, the youngest daughter of Holy Roman Empress, Maria Theresa, was the fated Marie Antoinette.

3.

Philosophers

France, in the decades after the loss of the Seven Years War, was a country that was changing quickly, in economic, social and political terms. The epicentre of the discussions on change was the scholarship within the epoch now known as the Enlightenment. While the key scholars of this epoch examined many issues, one of the favourite topics was on how best to improve government and political order. This was not an easy conversation to have in France, as censorship remained tight and the modes of outlet were restricted. That is, while Louis XV had over 170 censors busy at work regulating pamphlets and books, it was not until 1777 that France got its first national newspaper – Le Journal de Paris; with this, the Fourth Estate was formed in that country. By comparison, there were 61 newspapers in Britain at the same time, with its initial newspaper – the Oxford Gazette – going back to 1665.18 The first in the sequence of great thinkers who profoundly influenced the debates in France at this point was Charles-Louis de Secondat, Baron de La Brede et de Montesquieu, or more simply, just Montesquieu. This man made his strong dislike of monarchical despotism a central theme in his most famous work of 1748, the Spirit of Laws. Montesquieu was a parlementaire himself, born into the aristocracy. He was initially drawn to the ideals that republics could represent. However, he became disillusioned with such bodies, after seeing them in operation in both Italy and the United Provinces, in which he found ego, small-mindedness and corruption distorted their systems away from responsibility and selfgovernment, towards manipulation and self-interest. The alternative model he then found was that of Britain, where he had lived between 1729 to 1731. In this country he found civil liberties, a type of religious tolerance, and flourishing commerce. He also found a monarchy with a shared sovereignty with Parliament, and a Parliament with a lower and upper house (so that the aristocracy still had a say, as did the commons). In short, Montesquieu discovered the English system of constitutional monarchy and concluded this system was the most perfect instrument of government in Europe.19 Montesquieu argued that the genius of the English system was their separation of powers and their balancing between each other so that none of them could obtain a monopoly of power and control and therefore become despotic. Only then is freedom possible. He expressed his principle as thus: Political liberty is found only in those states where power is not abused; for it is the universal experience that every man who has power tends to abuse it. In order that no man shall abuse his power, it is necessary for things to be so arranged that power checks power.20

The next in line after Montesquieu was Voltaire. This scholar was never an advocate of popular revolution and was increasingly sceptical of the value of war. He believed that reason was the best pathway to peace, but was sceptical of whether that reason would work best in a

democracy, or an enlightened monarchy, in which the key liberties of the citizen were well defended.21 The liberty he treasured the most was freedom of speech, or what he termed, ‘freedom of the pen’. He came to insist on this right above all others after he had (in 1734) some of his own philosophical works published in Paris, which were then burnt by the public executioner, as a sign of disapproval of the Paris Parlement. He later found himself imprisoned in the Bastille for nearly a year after making a (defamatory) joke at the expense of the Duke of Orleans. Additional pieces of his work were banned by the papacy in 1752 and 1762. From such experiences, he quickly came to learn and value the power and risks that free speech possessed.22 Such experiences meant that, although Voltaire was, in theory, in favour of republicanism, he only believed this theory would work in countries with a small population where the people were inclined towards cooperative behaviour. For larger, more diverse and complicated countries, like France, he believed that absolutism was the best form of rule, provided the rulers were well educated by learned scholars like himself, who had dished out advice to, amongst others, Frederick the Great, Catherine II, and a little, with Louis XV. Voltaire initially believed that if monarchs could be enlightened, then there was no need to tether them. He strongly distrusted the French parlements which he believed were hopelessly captured by the self-interests of the constituents, full of bigoted agents of oppression, burning books, torturing prisoners, arresting the innocent and impeding any progressive ideas. To these people, he simply said, ‘I am not going to give them the power to kill me and rob me by majority vote’.23 His position, broadly, was not only that the parlements were terrible, but generally that, ‘the people are not fit to govern. I could not bare my wig-maker to be a legislator … only those who have had a very good education are fit to lead those who haven’t had any’.24 However, as Voltaire became older, he lost confidence in the hopes he once had for enlightened monarchs and began to explore different models. The one model that remained on the table, was that of Britain. Like Montesquieu, Voltaire too came to admire this land. Thus: The English nation is the only one on earth that has managed to control the power of its kings by resisting them, and which, by successive efforts, has finally established this wise government in which the prince … is restrained from doing harm; where the lords, who lack insolence and vassals, are yet great; and where the common people share power without disorder.25

The third great French philosopher of direct influence in this area was Jean Jacques Rousseau. The published his Discourse on Inequality in 1755 and seven years later, in 1762, his Social Contract began with the memorable sentence, ‘Man is born free, but he is everywhere in chains’.26 Rousseau understood war as being created by inequality and the formation of private property, to which ‘for the profit of a few ambitious men … the entire human race [had been subjected] to labour, servitude and misery’.27 He explained: The first man who, having enclosed a piece of land, thought of saying “this is mine” and found people simple enough to believe him was the true founder of modern society. How many crimes, wars, murders, how much misery and horror the human race would have been spared if someone had pulled up the stakes and filled in the ditch and cried out to his fellow men: “beware of this imposter, you are lost if you forgot that the fruits of the earth belong to everyone and that

the earth itself belongs to no one”.28

For Rousseau, realising that a return to the ideal, peaceful, state of nature was not possible, the next best step was the creation of political system in which all citizens shared legal equality, and they, the people, retained full authority. He argued all people were ‘naturally equal’29 and there had been no transfer of permanent sovereignty to a ruler. Sovereignty not only originated in the people, it resided there. Thus, ‘sovereignty is the mere exercise of the general will’.30 Moreover, in thinking that would inspire totalitarian dreamers for centuries to come, he believed individuals could be compelled or forced to conform: ‘whoever refuses to obey the general will must be forced to do so by the entire body. This means merely that he will be forced to be free’.31 This was because ‘the general will is always right … it must be made safe from the seduction of private wills’.32 What this meant was that, for Rousseau, the majority, not the minority was the focus. He did not dream of a world of individual civil rights. This thinking, in part, meant that democracy, although good in theory, had real limits, noting that, ‘if there were a nation of Gods, it would govern itself democratically. A government so perfect does not suit men’.33 He reasoned that it was impossible to keep people assembled full time to handle public affairs, and maintain the necessary equality (in economic, social and political terms) between members for democracy to work. Without this equality, it was doomed to fail as ‘it simultaneously corrupts both the rich and the poor, the one by possession, the other by covetousness’.34 Rousseau suggested that the best option was that every citizen should participate in government, not make a vote and then leave it to others. To him, this charade of democracy was the English model, which unlike Voltaire and Montesquieu, Rousseau believed had failed. Thus: The English people believe itself to be free. It is greatly mistaken; it is only free during the election of its members of Parliament. Once they are elected, the population is enslaved; it is nothing.35

The model Rousseau suggested was that executive management of a society needed to be entrusted to duly elected ministers, magistrates or power-holders. These people, the decision makers on important public matters, would be ‘elected year by year, the most capable and the most upright of their fellow citizens to administer justice and govern the state’.36 These power-holders would put proposals to the citizens, who would decide on them in assemblies. The last scholar of significance to note in this period before the revolution was Denis Diderot. Diderot disliked autocrats and even suggested that the idea that such people could be enlightened was nonsense. To Diderot, if monarchies were to have any legitimacy, they had to be held in constitutional check. This was because: There is no true sovereign except the nation; there can be no true legislator except the people … The first act of a wellmade constitutional code should bind the monarch to obey the law. Any monarch who refused to take such an oath would declare himself in advance to be a despot and a tyrant.37

Moreover, these constitutional checks had to be supplemented with certain civil rights for all citizens, such as freedom of speech. He was particularly concerned about this topic, as in

1752 after completing the second volume of the Encyclopedie, he was accused of sedition, was detained and had his house searched. With hindsight, this was not entirely surprising as the reason offered in the volumes of the Enyclopodie were a direct threat to ecclesiastical authority, as well as that of monarchy and its associated feudal social order.38 Matters could have ended badly for Diderot had not the officer in charge of the search been an admirer who took it upon himself to hide the offending manuscripts. As it was, the Encyclopedie – probably the most defining collection of the work of the Enlightenment – was banned by the Papacy (for its irreligion and deprecation of monarchy), and was then banned by the French authorities until 1758. Although the work on the Encyclopedie continued in secret in both France and Italy, and in public in other, more welcoming, countries, Diderot was lucky it was his work, and not him, who had been burnt. Diderot noted: [W]herever the sovereign does not allow people to express themselves freely on economic and political subjects, he provides the most convincing evidence of his inclination to tyranny.39

Such thinking, in admiration, drew him to the model of England. There, although their political arrangement was: [N]ot perfect or free of faults, [it] is at least the most well suited to the condition of the country, the most favourable to commerce, the most appropriate to the development of genius, eloquence and all the faculties of the human mind; perhaps the only one, since man lived in society, in which the laws have ensured him dignity, personal liberty and freedom of thought; where the laws have made him, in a word, a citizen, that is to say, an integral and constituent part of the state and the nation.40

Despite this nod towards the British model, he was an equally ardent defender of the right of revolution (and the American example) in particular. He believed all peoples had the right to self-determination, and govern themselves as they saw fit, as ‘an inalienable and natural right of men who are oppressed, and indeed of those who are not oppressed’.41 Diderot’s thinking at this point was developing in tandem with what he saw in France, as a rapidly deteriorating situation. He warned in 1771, ‘we are on the verge a crisis, which will end in slavery or liberty …’42

4.

The Fuse to Revolution in France

(a) The Assembly of Notables For the first decade of his reign, Louis had governed France in much the same way as those before him. His relationship with the parlements was tetchy. This became apparent in 1776, in which there were a number of remonstrances against his edict demanding the suppression of all guilds of arts and trades – as a pathway to raise more money. However, when the king saw the size of the protests, and was convinced that retaining the privileges of the guilds was actually better for the economy, he backed down. The greater problem for Louis at this point was the underlying causes of all the tension – namely – that France, in the mid-1780s, was in an economic quagmire, with the costs of the last war with Britain consuming half of its

annual revenue. The pain reached fever pitch when there were poor harvests, and the price of food (and bread in particular) suddenly increased, often beyond the reach of the poorer households. The response of the poor was to riot.43 The issue, simply, was where was Louis going to get more money from? The paradigm was limited, as there was no national bank (this was not created until 1800). This meant additional money either had to be borrowed from offshore, or taxes increased. As it was, the first option was not viable as vast amounts of additional money were already being recycled from offshore, but this was simply to avoid national bankruptcy – not to scale back the overall size of the debt. This made the second option, the only option. More taxes would have to be raised from the French people. While most people could understand and could nod in approval, their heads would only keep nodding if the taxes were going to fall on other French citizens – not themselves. It was on this conundrum that Louis XVI decided to take guidance from his people. Versailles directed that a Special Assembly of 144 Notables should be created. Nominated by the King, these were primarily nobles and clerics, with only a few commoners. They assembled in early 1787. The groups where the money needed to come from (the First/Church and Second/Nobles Estates) steadfastly refused any such idea that they should pay additional taxes, even though they were, and had been, largely exempt from the principal land tax which provided most of the King’s revenue. Conversely, the Third Estate/the Commoners believed that they were already being unfairly exploited, and it was only fair that the First and Second Estates pay a greater share. What the Special Assembly did agree on was the need for this matter to be discussed at the national level.44 The king did not like the idea of a national gathering to deal with the problems he faced. Rather, he tried to short circuit the process with some short-term fiscal measures. However, the Paris parlement refused to ratify these edicts, declaring them to be illegal and arguing that such measures first had to go through a national Estates General meeting. To this outrage, Louis XVI replied, ‘I don’t care … it is legal because I wish it’.45 Louis’s minister added: To the king alone belongs sovereign power in his kingdom. He is accountable to God alone for the exercise of supreme power. The bond which united the king and the nation is indissoluble by its very nature.46

The tensions between Louis and the Paris parlement continued to boil. Parlement called for a national Estates General gathering; the king responded by chipping away at their powers, removing their rights of registration and remonstrance. The parlement responded by declaring: The will of the king is not a law unto itself; the mere expression of this will is not part of our national practice … Such is the French constitution, which is as old as the monarchy.47

To make matters even more difficult for the king, censorship effectively ground to a halt in France. The result was a near explosion of political and controversial publications. Over 1,500 pamphlets appeared between May and December 1788. A further 2,600 followed in the first four months of 1789, before the calling of the Estates General. Never before had France experienced such freedom of speech, as new works, and those previously prohibited, flooded

into the hands of the public.48 (b) The Estates General As Louis tried to curtail the Paris parlement, the nobles quit their positions, and administrators refused to do their jobs. Together, their protests and strikes brought Paris to a standstill. While Louis might have been able to weather this revolt, a very poor harvest combined with the still-monumental debt crisis, made him realise he had to find a solution. Accordingly, Louis submitted to their demands, and agreed to convene the Estates General, which had not been assembled since 1614. His letter to the invitees explained that it was being called: [T]o overcome the difficulties in which we found ourselves concerning the current state of finances, and to establish … a constant and invariable order in all branches of government that concern the happiness of our subjects and the prosperity of the realm.49

To help facilitate this process and help guide those about to be assembled, the various estates and regions were invited to draw up their lists of grievances. These provided an extraordinary glimpse into the political concerns of France on the eve of the revolution. They showed a great stream of anger covering a bewildering array of topics and a wide diversity of suggestions about what was required to fix the situation. The foremost example of the problems to be addressed, however, did not come in the form of more written words, but in another massive civil disturbance in Paris as the poor, once again started to riot due to the price of bread.50 As the administrators of the king were perusing the long lists of grievances before them, they suddenly found themselves having to deal with a much more delicate procedural question. Namely, while sending out the call for an Estates General was easy enough, working out how it was to be constituted was much more difficult. That problem was that the king assumed the 1789 Estates General would be organised in the same form as that of 1614. At that point, the First and Second Estate (despite being only 4 per cent of the population) dominated proceedings, to the extent that they both had an equal number of delegates to the Third Estate (the other 96 per cent of the population). In addition, the Estates General traditionally voted by order and a two-thirds majority was required for a motion to pass. This meant that the first two Estates regularly outvoted the Third. By the end of the eighteenth century, the Third Estate had a new vitality, and was beginning to be aware of its power. Where it was once considered, ‘nothing’, clerics such as Emannual Joseph Sieyes now argued it was ‘everything’, and its weight could no longer be ignored or treated as it had been in 1614. This meant that the representatives of the Third Estate wanted twice the allotted number of delegates as either of the other estates, and that the votes be counted by head, not by order.51 Versailles, although not answering the second question of voting, did agree to increase the numbers to 1,200 people, to make up the Estates General which met in early May 1789. Of these, the clergy, the First Estate (which owned 10 per cent of the land in France and was

exempt from most taxes) had 300 delegates. The nobility, the Second Estate (which owned 30 per cent of the land and had many tax exemptions) also fielded 300 of the delegates. The commoners, the Third Estate (which now spoke for 97 per cent of the population, from agricultural peasants to the emerging middle class) was given 600 delegates.52 (c) The National Assembly Almost immediately the three parts of the Estates General broke into disagreement. This was aided by the fact that there were few Crown proposals and the voting procedure had not been clarified. A type of procedural stalemate resulted until early June, when the Third Estate seized the initiative and issued an invitation to the other two estates to join them and form a National Assembly which would, ‘interpret and set out the general will of the nation’.53 The First Estate (the clergy) voted by a narrow majority to join the Third Estate, at which the deputies then gathered and declared themselves to be a National Assembly on 17 June. When the delegates, which now also included 47 members of the nobility/Second Estate, were scheduled to meet a few days later, they discovered the doors to the hall blocked by armed men. Fearing that they were about to be dissolved, they quickly went to a different location, the tennis court, where they made the oath: [N]ever to separate ourselves from the National Assembly, and to reassemble wherever circumstances require, until the constitution of this realm is drawn up and fixed upon solid foundations.54

The king realised what was happening when he addressed the assembled a few days later on 23 June. Although he promised to listen to what they had to say, and would not raise new taxes without their consent, he showed himself committed to preserving the three orders which he articulated were fundamentally linked to the constitution of the realm. He then added that what had occurred on 17 June was ‘illegal and unconstitutional’. Finally, to make sure there was no misunderstanding, he explained: I alone will construct my people’s good, I alone will consider myself their true representative … None of your arrangements can have the force of law without my special appropriation.55

The problem for the king was that, despite such strong rhetoric, the Third Estate and most of the First (clergy) did not leave the hall when he ordered them to. Within a few days, several nobles from the Second Estate either returned, or now joined, and also went to the hall to join the members of the First and Third Estates. The result of this show of solidarity was that a few days later the king capitulated. While expressing concern about the ‘general wellbeing of my kingdom’ he commanded, ‘my faithful nobility [as in, those who had not already done so] to unite with the other two orders without delay’.56 (d) The Bastille, 14 July 1789

Although the king may have given way on this point, tensions were accelerating all over France as the price of bread created disturbances in many regions. The authorities responded by deploying extraordinary numbers of troops in Paris, and around the meetings of the new National Assembly in Versailles. This anger over food prices overlapped with that over feudal dues/taxes. Many local records offices were destroyed, as were some chateaux of the wealthy. In Paris, similar problems were compounded by the fear that the king’s troops might be turned upon them. On 14 July 1789, the anger and fear that many Parisians felt propelled 20,000 of them to march upon and surround the symbol of the King’s authority in Paris, the medieval fortress and prison of Bastille. A few hours later the fortress, which was only manned by 114 soldiers (and holding seven prisoners and 250 barrels of gunpowder) surrendered and the crowd stormed in. The mob then took the prisoners, the gunpowder and the head of the prison governor. Everyone, both in France and abroad, was stunned by the anger of the crowd, and how easy the symbol of the king had fallen in what was a political and psychological turning point. The storming of the Bastille was more than another standard riot. This was the announcement that a radical revolution was underway.57 News of these events made their way to the National Assembly, which feared that popular violence could be about to occur. Even the king tried to avert violence, appearing before gatherings in both Paris and Versailles, promising to withdraw his troops from a number of sensitive areas. (e) The Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Citizen On 26 August 1789, the National Assembly of France passed its Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen. This document proclaimed that: Men are born free and remain equal in rights. Social distinctions can be based only on public utility. The aim of every public association is the preservation of the natural and imprescriptible rights of man. These rights are liberty, property, security and resistance to oppression. The source of all sovereignty resides essentially in the nation; no body, no individual can exercise authority that does not proceed from it in plain terms. Law is the expression of the general will. Every citizen has a right to participate personally, or through his representative, in its foundation. It must be the same for all, whether it protects or punishes. All citizens, being equal in the eyes of the law, are equally eligible to all dignities and to all public positions and occupations, according to their abilities, and without distinction except that of their virtues and talents.

The civil rights that all citizens of France possessed were then spelt out. These included, amongst others, the right to a trial (if accused of a crime); equality before the law; freedom from arbitrary arrest; a presumption of innocence; religious freedom; procedural rights over the administration of the State; a separation of constitutional powers; and: The free communication of ideas and opinions is one of the most precious of the rights of man; every citizen can then freely speak, write and print, subject to responsibility for the abuse of this freedom in the cases determined by law.58

As well as starting to make progress around religious liberty and the position of the Catholic

Church in France,59 debates about slavery and the extent of equality in France and it’s colonies,60 declarations were also made around the abolition of feudalism, the abolition of the death penalty, the abolition of guilds/trade unions and associations of capitalists, and the rights of women.61 As the National Assembly was navigating constitutionally unchartered waters (such as whether the king should, or should not, have a veto power over legislation proposed by the new National Assembly), the king called more troops to Versailles. This seems to have provoked popular anxiety that the revolution could be under threat. As a result, on the morning of 5 October 1789, several thousand women gathered and marched to Versailles to see the king. In addition to their ongoing concerns about the price of food, these women were also concerned that the king could fall into the hands of the counter-revolutionaries. When they reached Versailles, after receiving promises of better supplies of food at lower prices, they settled down to spend the night on the palace grounds, alongside the troops of the National Guard that had followed them from Paris. Violence broke out the following morning when two guards were killed, and the palace was invaded. Counselled that the best way to keep the peace was to go back to Paris with the women, the king and his family, agreed. The royals were then transported and placed in the Tuileries Palace in Paris in a state of semidetention. The royals never returned to Versailles, and to facilitate its work, the National Assembly moved to the capital a few days later. Irrespective of whether the king or the assembly was top sovereign, Paris now possessed them both.62 (f) The Mistake On 20 June 1791, King Louis XVI and his Queen, Marie Antoinette, opened the door to disaster, and a sequence of global wars that would not end until 1815. The fuse was lit when the royal family tried to secretly exit Paris and head for safety in the Austrian Netherlands where the king expected to be welcomed by the military forces of either the brother of his wife, and/or, loyal French troops who were dedicated to his sovereign self. His penned manifesto, explaining his departure, stated that his recent acceptance of various measures proposed by the National Assembly had been due to his ‘absolute lack of liberty’ and he would return when a constitution could be assured that respected ‘our holy religion’, the laws, ‘no longer infringed with impunity’ and finally that, ‘liberty be placed on a stable and unbreakable foundation’.63 Louis then proceeded to exit in what may have been the slowest escape vehicle in history, a carriage which could only do seven miles per hour due to its size and weight. Once the alarm was raised that the royal family had escaped, they were quickly located at Varennes (in northern France) and brought back to Paris. This attempted escape by the royal family undercut all of those who hoped a constitutional monarchy was possible. The Declaration from the King to the French People, the following day on 21 June, did little to calm matters. Louis explained, that he saw: [T]he kingdom destroyed, all powers disregarded, all property violated, personal safety endangered everywhere, crimes

unpunished, and complete anarchy establishing itself above the law; and when the semblance of authority given to him by the new Constitution is insufficient to repair a single evil afflicting the realm … the king does not think it is possible to govern a kingdom of such great extent and importance as France by the means established by the National Assembly … Frenchmen … do you desire the anarchy and despotism of the clubs [political groups] … replace the monarchical government under which the nation has prospered for fourteen hundred years ? Do you desire to see your king overwhelmed with insults, deprived of his liberty when his only occupation is to establish yours?64

Such pleas did not endear King Louis XVI to the public. People were not overly interested in questions about why the monarch had tried to flee, but more that he had done so. All they saw was that the king had been stopped, travelling incognito towards the frontier. They feared that he was about to bring war to the country to re-establish his status quo. As the people fretted, the National Assembly began to deal with the difficult questions of whether the new France was to be a republic, a monarchy, or something in between.65 These debates about what to do with the king then became folded into the wider discussions around the Constitution which was evolving piecemeal at the same period. This new foundation set down many of the liberties of the French citizen,66 the electoral franchise,67 and clearly placed the monarchy beneath, not above, the laws of the land. Thus, ‘in France there is no authority superior to that of the law’ to which the king, ‘only reigns in consequence of it, and it is only in the name of the law that he may exact obedience’.68 This fundamental law then explained that although the king had a veto over legislation, and could refuse his consent, if the same legislation was presented by a subsequent assembly, ‘the King shall be held to have given sanction’.69 Although the king realised he was substantially neutered by these provisions, on 13 September 1791, he accepted the new constitution, promising to, ‘maintain it at home [and] to defend it against external attack … I renounce the right of participation that I claimed in this [legislative] work’.70

5.

The Foreign Context

In the decades leading up to the French Revolution, although the country was economically broken, in diplomatic terms, it looked very strong. Versailles had positioned the country into a position of strength, in which it was bolstered by a diversity of alliances and trade deals with countries it had previously fought with (such as Austria) or against (such as Britain). Disputes, such as those with Spain, were settled, and grateful friends, such as with the United States, appeared solid. (a) The United Provinces and the Batavian Revolution At the same time as Louis was busy trying to secure his realm with external relationships which were positive, he also managed to not get to the forefront of external relationships which could be negative. This approach was most evident with the United Provinces, where it fell to other countries to solve the same type of disturbance which would end up toppling the French Monarchy.

In the case of the United Provinces, the first half of the 1780s was a particularly volatile period. The large economic debt following their recent war against Britain (as part of the War of American Independence), combined with dissatisfaction with the traditional concentrations of power in the Dutch Republic, left many people unhappy with the leadership of the Stadtholder, William V. The result was the Batavian Revolution, as led by a group which took the same name as the American rebels (the Patriots) from 1783. The rhetoric of the group called upon the people to resume control of the state for themselves, and to make the Stadtholder, the servant, not the director, of the people.71 As William V was trying to navigate his domestic difficulties, he almost ended up in conflict with Austria in 1785. This near-miss occurred as the Holy Roman Emperor, Joseph II, avoided obligations under the treaties which ended the War of Spanish Succession, for the creation and payment of Barrier Forts. When the Dutch reacted angrily, war almost broke out after they fired on some of his vessels. Conflict was only avoided when the Emperor gave up some additional small corners of territory, the Dutch provided an apology for firing on some of his boats, compensation was paid, and importantly, the 1715 treaty that caused all the obligations in the first place was annulled.72 Two days later, after making peace with the Austrians, the Dutch concluded a defensive alliance with France.73 Although William V managed to avoid a conflict with Austria, he suddenly found that the Batavian Revolution was growing much faster than he could control as, by this point, there were at least 28,000 volunteers, who, through both peaceful and threatening behaviour, began to take over several cities and regions in an effort to start new systems. This involved removing the power of the Stadtholder bit by bit (such as by relieving him from command of the armed forces). When the personal troops of William V then went head to head with some of the volunteers who had formed themselves into a militia (and lost), the wife of the Stadtholder asked her brother, Frederick II of Prussia to help, after she had been momentarily detained. Frederick’s response (with a British nod of approval)74 was to send 20,000 Prussian troops over the border in 1787 to quickly subdue the rebels. The incident involving his sister was deemed to be an intolerable insult that had to be answered with force. The greater, unwritten, justification was that all the talk of equality and democracy was a recipe for disaster for monarchies everywhere.75 To ensure that the situation was not repeated, in 1788 the Stadtholder quickly concluded a new defensive alliance with both Prussia,76 and then Britain. Of note with the latter, the two sides promised to not only defend the territory of the other, but also the dynasties within. That is, Britain guaranteed, ‘in the most effectual manner, the Hereditary Stadtholderate, as well as the office of Hereditary Governor of each province, in the Serene House of Orange’.77 (b) The Austrian Netherlands, the Brabant Revolution and France The second uprising near the borders of France that occurred before the French Revolution turned bloody was in the Austrian Netherlands (a broken area of territory made up of much

of modern-day Belgium and greater Luxembourg), as ruled by the Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II, of the Habsburgs in Austria. The first significant violence occurred with the Battle of Turnhout (modern-day north Belgium) at the end of October 1789. In this clash, a small rebel force of perhaps 2,000 men (which had been building up in the United Provinces) exercised what they saw as their right to resistance and defeated a slightly larger Austrian force of about 2,500, forcing losses of a couple of hundred (including about 100 dead), for about half of that cost on the rebels. There were multiple reasons they were fighting and, for a short period, both conservative, progressive and radical forces combined against a common enemy. There was anger about religion (against the tolerance Joseph II), his attempts to reform the economy (and loss of privilege of some groups), and lastly, by the commoners, many of whom were caught up in the hopes of general improvement in their status and conditions. There were also genuine revolutionaries inspired by the examples of the United States, and what was occurring simultaneously in France.78 The conclusion of the anger and the success at Turnhout meant that there was a quick sequence of Austrian forces being forced out everywhere, and nine of the ten provinces in the Austrian Netherlands began issuing declarations of independence (all very similar to the American precedent) from the middle of December 1789. A few weeks later, in January 1790, an Independent United Belgian States was declared. Eight months after that, the man they were fighting, Joseph II, died of natural causes in Vienna, and was replaced by his brother, Leopold II in early October 1790.79 Leopold was confident that a peaceful solution could be found with the rebels in the Austrian Netherlands. This optimism was due to two facts. First, the wheels of European diplomacy were spinning fast, as it was not only the Austrians who had no intention of losing this provinces. The English and Dutch, after what had recently happened in the United Provinces, were also determined to preserve the status quo. The result of this determination was the Declarations of Reichenbach, at the end of July 1790. With this, Austria and Prussia agreed, and Britain and the United Provinces guaranteed, the constitution of the Austrian Netherlands, as it existed before the recent uprising.80 With this agreement in his pocket, Leopold II then found the second point of his optimism, as he tried to negotiate with the rebels. He expected the various forms of conciliation he was offering would satisfy them, and they would revert to being under his sovereignty. However, the rebels did not want to negotiate. They wanted full independence, as it existed for the United States, not some watered-down form of it, offered by an enlightened autocrat. On 22 November, after Leopold had come to the conclusion that the talks with the rebels had failed, he pushed his forces back into the disputed territories. By the end of that month, Brussels had been recaptured and the rest of the disputed territory fell quickly thereafter, for the price of a few thousand rebel lives. In large part, the re-occupation was relatively simple. The rebels received no help from the French, while they themselves were sustained divided along their own ideological grounds, making a joint resistance very difficult.81 With such rapid military success against the rebels in the Austrian Netherlands, combined

with his own enlightened thinking about constitutional reform, Leopold II, initially, took a positive view about what was happening in France. Austrian interest in this country was deep, as the two realms were tied by a military alliance,82 and his sister – Marie Antoinette – was married to the French king. Despite these diplomatic and family connections and obligations, he was hopeful that what was occurring in France was for the better. He believed: The regeneration of France will be an example which all sovereigns and governments will be forced, will-nilly, to copy. Infinite happiness will result from this everywhere … and it will be one of the most useful fashions introduced by France to Europe.83

(c) The View from Britain Before the French Revolution, the French relationship with Britain was positive. This was a good place to be, for as discussed, France had supported the rebels in the War of American Independence, before joining that conflict directly as a formal ally84 of the United States. Then, for the first time in an age, they succeeded in their military goals and, with their allies, won the war against Britain. When this war ended, in 1783, the French concluded a definitive peace and friendship with Britain. This promised, A Christian, universal and perpetual peace, by sea as by land, and a sincere and constant friendship shall be reestablished [between Britain and France …] and they shall carefully avoid, for the future, everything that might prejudice the union happily re-established …85

Although the two nations were at peace, at the outset of the processes that became the French Revolution, from 1787 Britain was happy to support change. Even through the absolute monarchy of France had further to change than the constitutional monarchy of Britain, the necessity for change in the United Kingdom, was at the same time, the subject of healthy debate. This reflected the growing demands within Britain about the need to improve their democracy, in terms of cleaner (less-corrupt) elections, a fairer distribution of the seats in Parliament, and critically, an extension of the voting franchise. There was also a push-back against the growing concentrations of economic wealth (by 1790 in Britain, peers and gentry owned between 70 and 85 per cent of the land).86 In addition there was a strong swell of social discontent from the poor. That is, although the government was beginning to grapple with the problem of poverty (by the end of the eighteenth century in Britain, most urban poor were ‘indoor’ rather than ‘outdoor’), the list of those entitled to relief was small (not the able-bodied poor such as those who were male, fit, vagrant or pauper). Moreover, what was given came attached with harsh conditions designed to act as a disincentive to it being claimed. Despite such initiatives, between 1735 and 1800, there were 235 riots related to food. These were primarily local and communal, often reflecting a hankering for an earlier system which protected the poor, rather than a reaction against the profound economic and ideological challenges happening around them. Nonetheless, when the poor and the hungry could see what was occurring in France,

especially as many of the French riots were also about the issue of food, the British poor began to take interest.87 The collective result was that many in Britain, before the execution of Louis XVI, took a positive interest in what was happening in France and, from their own philosophical or social position, broadly, supported change. Even, George III, was happy to see events unfolding in France. However, his happiness was not about the merits of a constitutional reform for the French citizens, but more, the difficulties that his Bourbon counterparts had to endure.88 More reasoned support in the early years for the change in France included Richard Price, Joseph Priestley, Mary Wollstonecraft and Jeremy Bentham. Although each had a different reason to find praise, and although each had their reservations, overall, the commentary was broadly positive. Others, such as William Godwin, would use the revolution as a platform for his own radical thinking (for absolute democracy and freedom), while simultaneously defending others who were charged with treason for speaking in favour of the French experiment.89 The exception to this trend of thinking in Britain, and the one who forebode disaster, was Edmund Burke. Burke, who was greatly admired by King George III, penned his Reflections on the Revolution in France, which arrived at the booksellers in November 1790. Burke was not against change. This man who could see the American revolution as a type of incremental evolution which was, in part, justified, did not feel the same sympathy with what was happening in France. For Burke, it did not help that Louis XVI was a mild king, far from a tyrant, and possibly amenable to some mild forms of constitutional change. That is, while Burke agreed that, ‘the punishment of real tyrants is a noble and awful act of justice’,90 it did not apply here because Louis XVI was not a tyrant. What Burke disliked was what he foresaw as radical change that was untethered from its traditions of monarchy, religion and aristocracy, that would thus destroy the inherited and collective soul and social cohesion of the country. Burke feared the revolution was a recipe for disaster as the orderly and safe transmission of the heritage, present and future of the land, was about to discarded for anarchy. In the instance of France, Burke did not see incremental change building on any of the established patterns. Rather, he saw all the established patterns being disposed of in great haste, by new rulers who were without the skills of governance or the benefit of character. These men he saw as corruptible and driven either by ego or the drive of the crowd, all to maintain their personal power – not the overall good of the people or the country. Accordingly, he warned his readers in 1790 that, ‘in the groves of their academy, at the end of every vista, you see nothing but the gallows’ (emphasis in the original).91

6.

War

(a) Preparing for Impact As Louis XVI tried to reconcile himself with the National Assembly and the new

Constitution, some predicted that the time of crisis was passing.92 Such pronouncements could be made, as the French authorities repeatedly promised they wanted peace with their neighbours, renouncing conquests, promising to never use, ‘its power against the liberty of another people’.93 The French nation, it was explained, wanted only the right of self-defence, ‘to ensure its security, liberty and internal peace … The French nation is free … it desires only to maintain and defend its constitution’.94 The difficulty was that while some were hoping that peace was about to descend, others were getting ready for conflict, as they believed what was occurring within the borders of France was unpalatable. The first click of the machinery of war was the circular of Padua, a diplomatic note issued by the Holy Roman Emperor Leopold II on 6 July 1791. This called for the formation of a concern of Europe aimed at forcing the French government to guarantee the safety of the French royal family on pain of military intervention. Nearly six weeks later, on 27 August, Prussia and Austria issued the Declaration of Pillnitz. In this document, King Frederick William II and the Holy Roman Emperor Leopold II: [ J ]ointly declare that they consider the present situation of the King of France a matter of common concern to all the monarchs in Europe … they will not refuse to employ, in common … the most efficacious means commensurate with their forces to enable the King of France to consolidate, in perfect liberty, the basis of monarchical government, equally adapted to the rights of sovereigns and the welfare of the French nation … Their majesties … are resolved to act promptly, in mutual accord, with whatever forces are necessary to attain the proposed common end.95

Although this Declaration of Pillnitz did not propose concrete steps, or contain a direct threat of war, it was clearly threatening. The French king did little to slow the rising temperature, as he engaged in a sequence of efforts, designed to create an alliance against the revolutionary government. Louis recorded in early December 1791 that: I have just written to the Emperor, the Empress of Russia [and] to the Kings of Spain and Sweden, and have laid before them the idea of a congress of the great powers of Europe, supported by an armed force, as the best means of putting a stop to the factions here, or furnishing the resources to establish a more desirable state of affairs, and of preventing the evil that torments us from engulfing the other states of Europe.96

This escalation of tension suited the mood of both the defenders of the monarchy who believed war was necessary to destroy the revolution; and defenders of the revolution, who sought it as a way to strengthen the Republic by fully destroying the monarchy and creating the new world they wanted. This debate consumed the National Assembly from the end of 1791. While Maximilien de Robespierre argued that the risk of conflict was too great (as they could be defeated by external enemies or undermined from within by aristocrats and royalists) others, such as Jacques Pierre Brissot, argued for war. He suggested: A people who have won its liberty after twelve centuries of slavery needs war to consolidate it, to test it, it needs war to show that it is worthy of liberty, to purge it of the vices of despotism, to remove from its bosom men who might still corrupt it …. Without question, war which aims at conquest must be execrated by free men. But the war waged for liberty is a sacred war, a war commanded by Heaven; and like Heaven, it purifies souls.97

As the rhetoric was flying, the interested countries began to bind themselves into teams. On 17 January 1792, a de facto ultimatum called upon France to, inter alia, desist from

threatening the rest of Europe; respect the rights of the monarchy; and restore the Avignon98 (which France had annexed in early September 1791). A few weeks later, on 7 February, the Austro-Prussian relationship was upgraded to a full military alliance.99 Before the French Revolution began, Russia, which had created an agreement for commerce and trade with France,100 now moved its position from friend, to possible enemy. It made this move in a number of steps. First, in 1792, it renewed its alliances with both Austria,101 and then the Prussians,102 both of whom were now pointing their weapons at France. Second, it started to work very closely with Sweden, with whom it had recently formed an alliance.103 A few months later, in March 1792, negotiations were undertaken with Sweden to maintain 12,000 soldiers, ready for a potential invasion of France. These negotiations with the King Gustav III of Sweden (who was also in close contact with the French king) made perfect sense, as he not only had a strong relationship with King Louis XVI, but he also wished to position himself as a regional leader in this area. This dovetailed with his own firm belief in absolute (but enlightened) monarchy.104 Before matters against France could proceed, Gustavus was assassinated by an agent of the Swedish nobility at the end of March 1792. In words that would echo throughout France, the nobleman who wielded the pistol declared: Kings only have authority through the confidence of the nation, and this confidence is only theirs so long as they remain worthy of it through their respect for the law and for liberty … Can he remain our king, the man who violated his oath to the people to maintain the Constitution of 1772, drawn up by him and accepted without amendment by the Swedish nation? My conviction is that this perjurer has ceased to be king. Between the nation and him, the pact is broken … Since there is no legal remedy, it is permitted to oppose violence with violence.105

(b) The Killing Begins On 20 April 1792, the National Assembly of France declared war on Austria. This occurred just after the Holy Roman Emperor Leopold II had died, and was about to be replaced by his son, the 24-year-old Francis II. Unbeknown to all, Francis was destined to be the last Holy Roman Emperor; the entire edifice would be destroyed (in 1806) by the process that began with the French revolutionary wars. The starting point of war between France and Austria was assertions that Austria was harbouring counter-revolutionaries and it was necessary for the French to strike first in an act of pre-emptive self-defence, as the enemy was about to fall upon them. The declaration added that France did not see itself as fighting the people of Austria, but only its king and his soldiers. Thus, they were about to use arms: [O]nly for the defence of its [French] liberty and its independence; that the war which it is obliged to undertake is not a war of nation against nation, but the just defence of a free people against the unjust aggression of a King.106

Austria, and those allied with them, responded in kind. They then began organising an invasion force of 80,000 (42,000 Prussian, 30,000 Austrian and units of Hessian and French émigré Royalist troops).

By mid-July, the National Assembly would decree a national state of emergency, as radicals began to accuse the king of treasonous disregard for winning the war. At this point, fearing that something bad was about to happen to the King of France, the Duke of Brunswick issued his Manifesto on 25 July 1792. This explained that the courts of Austria and Prussia had: No other aim than the welfare of France and have no intention of enriching themselves by conquests … they do not intend to meddle with the internal government of France, but merely wish to deliver the king, the queen, and the royal family from their captivity, and to procure for [Louis] the conventions he shall deem suitable and may work for the welfare of his subjects.

It was then added that: [I]f the least violence or outrage be offered to their Majesties, the king, queen and royal family, if their preservation and their liberty be not immediately provided for, they [the approaching armies] will exact an exemplary and evermemorable vengeance, by delivering the city of Paris over to a military execution and to complete ruin …107

These words, combined with a momentum that was already building in Paris, poured fuel onto the fire of the revolutionaries, and, within weeks of the publication of the manifesto, the fate of the king and the Revolution was sealed.108 The National Assembly responded to the Brunswick Manifesto by distributing arms and opening the National Guard to all citizens. On 3 August, the Paris section of the National Assembly accused the king of treason against the Constitution, and on 10 August, Parisian crowds attacked the Tuileries palace where the royal family were being kept. There a vicious fight broke out between the (Swiss) guard and the Parisian crowds in which about 560 (out of 900) of the king’s guard and 390 insurgents were killed in the bloodiest uprising that France had yet seen. The fighting only stopped when the king told his guards to put down their weapons. The royal family were then taken to the prison of the Temple in Paris.109 Within a few hours, the National Assembly, ‘provisionally suspended’ the executive power of the king ‘until the national convention has pronounced upon the measures which it believes ought to be adopted to assure the sovereignty of the people and the reign of liberty and equality’. The suspicion was that the king, ‘has inspired, in a war undertaken in his name’ actions ‘against the Constitution and the national independence’.110 Nine days after the king and his family had been taken from the Tuileries palace, the Duke of Brunswick marched his army over the French border. The Prussians recorded their first victory at Verdun on 29 August, when they, massively outnumbering the few thousand French defenders, easily defeated the opposition.111 When news reached Paris on 2 September that Verdun had fallen, the citizens of the city panicked. No other fortress stood between the invading Prussian troops and the capital. Convinced that the prisons of the city were full of traitors, the citizens of Paris broke into them, extracted the prisoners and set up popular tribunals. These tribunals then condemned and executed over a five-day period somewhere between 1,100 and 1,400 men, women and children. Many of the women and children who were not executed, but were family members of those charged, or were not of good standing by themselves, were readied to be formed into human shields to protect the revolutionaries from the invading armies, as the nation prepared

for total war.112 The new revolutionary nationalism that swept the land was captured by the famous hymn, La Marseillaise. To this day, this song remains the stirring and dramatic national anthem of France, with its chorus, still echoing: To arms, citizens! Form your battalions! We march, we march So impure blood May water our soil!113

The Prussian advance into France stopped, about half-way to Paris, at Valmy on 9 September 1792. In this critical battle, 54 French canons (with 34,000 soldiers behind them) fired furiously at 50 Prussian cannons (with 34,000 men) behind them. This battle, in essence a very large artillery duel (with 20,000 rounds exchanged) only killed a couple of hundred on each side. However, these losses caused Brunswick, who was already concerned about the rain, dysentery, lack of supplies and an enemy which did not seem as weak as he hoped, to retreat over the Rhine.114 The French were elated at their success. In response, on 22 September, they abolished the monarchy in France. The next excitement of the period was when they decided to take the initiative, by invading Flanders in the Austrian Netherlands, knowing this area was still smouldering from their own recent Brabant revolution. As the French armies marched beneath flags bearing the inscription, ‘the French people risen against the Tyrants’,115 the National Assembly declared its Edict of Fraternity. This promised, in the name of the French nation that: [I]t will grant fraternity and aid to all peoples who wish to regain their freedom, and instructs the Executive Power to give generals the necessary orders to bring help to these peoples.116

Maximilien de Robespierre added colour to the context of this fight that France was now in. He explained: Kings, aristocrats, tyrants, whoever they may be, are all slaves in revolt against the sovereign of the earth, which is the human race, and against the legislators of the universe, which is nature … whoever makes war on a people to stop the progress of liberty and abolish the rights of man must be proceeded against by all, not as ordinary citizens, but as assassins and rebellious brigands.117

The opposing forces came to face each other in what is today south-west Belgium. The clash occurred on 6 November 1792, when 43,000 French soldiers drove about 14,000 Austrians from the heights of Jemappes, with over 1,000 dead, wounded or captured; as opposed to about 1,800 French losses. With their own momentum, supported by an upswell of local support, the French forces entered Brussels on 13 November, Ostend on the 16th, Antwerp on the 29th, and Namur on the 2nd of December.118 As French politicians shouted that that this, ‘will be the last war’119 they proclaimed that wherever France’s armies marched, the existing form of government would be replaced by the rule of the people. All feudal titles would be abolished and traditional governance

structures would be replaced by democratic elections. Liberty, equality and fraternity between peoples who were to be equal, was the objective for all occupied lands. To help facilitate this transition, many pro-French revolutionary groups that were local within the now-occupied territories, welcomed the French forces as they advanced. These groups, which were quickly placed in charge, were supported by Commissioners from Paris, to help win the hearts and minds of the occupied populations by facilitating a policy of peaceful, beneficial and desired occupation. The responses were often better than expected, as local authorities in some areas, often beneath the shadow of French bayonets, requested that their lands be annexed to France (as occurred in Belgium, Mainz, Savoy and Nice). Such requests were duly accepted by the National Assembly, as it helped fill out what they saw as the natural frontiers of France, thus making its defence easier.120 (c) The Execution of a King During the same wild months of late August and early September 1792, the election cycle came to a conclusion, from which the National Convention, the first actual government of the French Revolution, eclipsing the National Assembly, came into being. This body, despite only one-sixth of the eligible voters bothering to cast their vote, declared itself, quickly, to be at one with, ‘the people’.121 The National Convention fought both the external and internal enemies of the Republic. The internal enemies were the feared counter-revolutionaries. The most important and most feared, fellow French potential counter-revolutionary to deal with was their king. The answer of what to do with Louis XVI was given on 11 December 1792, when the indictment against him was unveiled.122 In an area without precedent in France, Louis was charged with, in essence, treason and crimes against the state. The allegations included, inter alia, during the formation stage of the Estates General and the National Assembly of, attacking, ‘the sovereignty of the people by suspending the assemblies of its representatives’. The positioning of troops to scare delegates and the general population, and, ‘the massacres at the Tuileries’. He was also accused of ‘plots against national liberty’ and taking too long to recognise key constitutional documents, or impede progress, especially with the Constitution. Finally, he was accused of ‘remaining silent about the covenant [of Pillnitz] up to the very moment when it became known to all of Europe’ and was alleged to have undermined the armed forces, by ‘urg[ing] regiments to desert’.123 In the trial that followed, incriminating evidence was produced of Louis’s contacts with foreign monarchs and royal exiles throughout Europe. Some of this evidence was probably authentic, and some of it, forged. Either way, the debate gripped not only the National Convention (which was the impeaching body) but all of France. The bottom line was whether the king was actually guilty of treason, and if he was, should he be executed? This debate was critical between those who wanted a pure and egalitarian Republic and those who wanted a constitutional monarchy. This constitutional debate then overlapped with a very pragmatic one, of whether the Republic would be safer with the king alive, or dead.

The answer to these debates, (with 366 votes condemning the king to death, as opposed to 361 against) was given on 21 January 1793, when the 38-year-old Louis XVI was decapitated. After the blade fell, the staunch revolutionary Georges Danton declared that France had dared to throw down, as a challenge to the rest of Europe, the head of a king.124

7.

The First Coalition against the Republic of France

The Prussians and Austrians were already at war with the French Republic. The French were not at war with Britain. Before the blade actually fell onto the neck of Louis XVI, the British, aside from recalling their envoy (as it was unclear who was in control in Paris), and warning that asylum would not be offered to anyone who harmed the royal family, were not at the forefront of developments. This was despite their military alliances and working relationships with Prussia and Austria in keeping revolution away from the United Provinces and the Austrian Netherlands. This all changed when news of the execution of Louis XVI reached London. For the majority of the British, this was proof that what was happening in the French revolution was not a commendable extension of the English Revolution of 1688, but rather, an aberration which was out of control. King George III (in his capacity as the Elector of Hanover) immediately mobilised 13,000 Hanoverian (as opposed to British) troops to serve in the Low Countries. Before the British Parliament could respond further, on 1 February, the French National Convention saved them the trouble of their deliberations and declared war, accusing the British King George of supporting the Austro-Prussian alliance. The French added that they were making war against the British sovereign, not the people of Britain. In reply, King George III found the news of the French declaration of war: Highly agreeable … as the means adopted seems well calculated to rouse such a spirit in this country that I trust will curb the insolence of those despots and by a means of restoring some degree of order to that unprincipled country, whose aim at present is to destroy the foundations of every civilised state.125

The second country that the French National Convention declared war on was Spain. The Spanish, like the British (with whom they had finally reconciled),126 initially sought to avoid conflict with the new authorities in France, despite the French actions against both the Catholic Church and their own monarch, which many Spanish found deeply offensive. The problem the Spanish faced was that, irrespective of what was happening in France, their own country was ripe for revolution despite the efforts of their Kings Charles III (who ruled from 1759 to 1788) and then his son, Charles IV, to modernise and improve the management of Spain. However, this improvement was in economic terms and administrative efficiency. It was in improving the existing paradigm of the autocratic power of the monarch, the controls of the Church and the betterment of the aristocracy. The changes were not about goals of equality and liberty for the vast majority of their citizens. Ideals of toleration, reducing the influence of the Church, the power of the monarch, or the individual rights of citizens like freedom of speech or religion, were not within the thinking of the Spanish

monarchy.127 Although those in power in Spain may have hated the ideals of the Enlightenment and the revolution in France, those without power began to become attracted to it, especially as peasants rioted over the price of bread and there was discontent about taxation (especially the omission of some groups from contributions). The Spanish were, therefore, as the French surmised, vulnerable to the same revolutionary factors that propelled revolt in France. This vulnerability of the Spanish monarchy meant that when the French linked the Spanish to an attempted intervention in what they saw as their own domestic affairs (what to do about Louis XVI), they, the National Convention, decided to act first. Accordingly, a little over a month after declaring war on Britain, on 3 March 1793, the authorities in Paris declared war against their southern neighbour.128 A few weeks later, on 23 March, the Spanish made a reciprocal declaration of war against France for the ‘monstrous outrage … [of] … the savage and unspeakable crime of assassinating their sovereign’.129 As Spain and Britain joined Austria and Prussia in the war against revolutionary France, the international diplomatic effort to isolate, or fight, France was being increasingly tightened. First, the potential allies of France, namely Denmark130 and Sweden,131 promised to stay neutral. Second, some other areas (especially in what is modern-day Germany), who did not want to get directly involved in the fight, agreed to supply troops (for money) in their fight against the French.132 Finally, and most significantly, Britain, in addition to its existing relationship with the United Provinces,133 struck new (or upgraded existing) military alliances with Austria,134 Prussia,135 Sardinia,136 Spain,137 Portugal138 and the two Sicilies (also known as the Kingdom of Naples/southern Italy).139 Even Russia signed a convention with Britain for concerted action against France.140 Together, this group made up the First Coalition against France. In terms of actual conflict, an Austrian army of 40,000 men marched into modern-day Belgium in early 1793 and defeated the larger French force of 45,000 men at Neerwinden on 18 March. For just over 2,850 Austrian casualties, the French (who suffered about 5,000 dead, wounded or taken prisoner) were forced to retreat. They were then defeated again at Valenciennes (just on the inside of the French border) on 21/23 May, where a French force of 27,000 had 3,000 killed or wounded and a further 3,000 taken prisoner, to an opposing force that was nearly double their number of 53,000 allied soldiers.141 Realising that its existing forces were not sufficient to stem the tide, the Republic did something which had previously never been seen. This occurred on 23 August, when the National Convention decreed the portentous levee en masse, by which for the first time in history, the whole resources of the nation, human and material, were declared subject to use if necessary to win the war. The petition calling for this law explained this unprecedented measure was necessary to obtain, ‘a spontaneous movement of people who will throw themselves en masse on their enemies to exterminate them’.142 The decree, in less bloodthirsty language explained that, ‘from this moment, until our enemies have been driven from the soil of the Republic, the whole French people is in permanent requisition for army service’.143 Although every citizen in France now had a part to play in the war, the primary

burden fell upon all unmarried men between the ages of 18 and 25 who were, prima facie, drafted for service, and no-one was allowed to hire a substitute. The result was spectacular, as within a few weeks, 14 new armies had been raised to fight the enemies of the Republic. At the same time, the factories went into overdrive, with some 1,000 muskets being produced per day.144 With these new numbers of recruits, a strong production of military weapons, and the fact that they were fighting close to home and were infused with a revolutionary spirit, the French forces started to push back. To the north, over 42,000 French soldiers defeated a force onethird their size at Honschoote on 6 September 1793 (although neither side suffered large losses). A week later, on 13 September, the French inflicted 3,100 casualties onto a Dutch force of 14,800 men. In the east, in the middle of October, the Austrians were defeated at Wattignies (with 3,000 thousand casualties out of a force of 21,000, while the French had 5,000 losses out of a force of 45,000). The opposition were then fought to a standstill at Kaiserslautern in late November, before beating the Prussians at Froschwiller on 22 December, and then defeating the Austrians at Geisberg on 26 December.145

8.

Internal Enemies

(a) Within the First Alliance All sides involved in, or near, the conflict with the revolutionary French Republic feared its influence and how its ideals could quickly spread into their own realms, if not carefully controlled. Two countries, Russia and Britain, serve as good examples of the way that they sought to prevent the risk of the ideology of the French revolution spreading, and infecting their own populations. The Russian authorities were deeply concerned about the: [G]rowing spirit of rebellion against their sovereign, combined with a frenzied determination, not only to establish in their own country the principles of godlessness, insubordination to the supreme authority, and alienation of every good moral doctrine, but also to spread this disease throughout the world.146

To confront this, the Russian authorities undertook a sequence of steps. The first involved a travel embargo against French people coming to visit, unless they were loyal to the old regime. The next step was that all ‘newspapers, journals and other periodicals published in France’147 were prohibited. Tens of thousands of French-inspired books advocating reform were burnt. Next, all (Russian) students in western Europe were recalled, so they were not infused with rebellion. Finally, all potential sympathisers within Russia who were citizens of the Tsar were watched carefully by the Russian authorities. In 1792 (before the actual war broke out) the British began to deal with the risk of the spread of the ideology of the French revolution via two royal proclamations against seditious writings and publications. This law would ensnare dozens in writing or publishing work in support of the French Republic. This censorship was supplemented by a series of laws which

began to place war-time restrictions upon British liberties. Of note, in 1794, habeas corpus was suspended so as to help prevent, ‘the system of anarchy and confusion which has so fatally prevailed in France’.148 In 1795, the organisation of political meetings required the sanction of a magistrate, and defined treason loosely, so as to potentially capture any criticism of the government. The Illegal Oaths Act of 1797 curtailed the principle of freedom of association (and secret associations became illegal). In the same year, the Stamp Act was increased again, thus making some of the smaller newspapers (and often the more politically challenging ones) economically unviable. In 1799, the Combination Act prohibited unions of workers, while in the same year, the Unlawful Societies Act suppressed any such organisations established for seditious and/or treasonable practices. This law made it illegal to run a library or reading room without a licence. Similarly, all places used for lecturing or debating, whether indoors or outside, had to be licenced. All printers, had to be registered and strict accounts kept of the sale of presses, and, in a practice that continues to this day, the name and address of every printer had to appear in any publications they printed.149 (b) The Terror Within France, the military threats to the Republic were not just from foreign countries. The execution of the king had precipitated a number of revolts throughout the land, such as the Vendee region, on the coast in south-west France, as well as a parts of southern France, such as around Marseilles, moving north as far as Lyon. It was in one of these places, Toulon, which was recaptured at the end of 1793, that the name of (major) Napoleon Bonaparte first made the national news in France. This occurred after he directed the artillery for the recovery of the port, and when completed, rounded up hundreds of ‘collaborators’. However, he was not involved in the execution of the 400 counter-revolutionaries. Nonetheless, Napoleon proceeded to destroy the main public buildings of the port, to further discourage royalist uprisings in the region.150 In all instances, the war against the internal enemies of the Revolution, despite being fellow French, was fought with a particular indiscriminate and inhumane ferocity. Of note, the Vendee region suffered hundreds of thousands of casualties, before being brought under the control of the Republic. Battles, such as at Cholet on 17 October 1793 recorded a loss including 8,000 casualties out of 40,000 fighting the (numerically smaller, 26,000) Republicans. Such losses were only a subset of at least 80,000 and possibly as high as 250,000 people (about one-fifth of the regional population) who died in 1793, in the first year of the revolt in this region.151 In this atmosphere, many revolutionaries feared that unless unprecedented measures were adopted against the risk of counter-revolutionaries, all their progress could be washed away. To prevent this, in April 1793, the nine-member Committee of Public Safety was formed. This was a watchdog committee that met in secret, ‘to take measures of external and internal defence in circumstances of urgency’.152 This mandate of revolutionary government was meant to last, ‘until the peace’153 was restored. The goal, as Maximilien de Robespierre

explained, was to create a regime of popular government based on both virtue and terror. He explained: [V]irtue, without which terror is disastrous; terror without virtue is powerless. Terror is nothing other than prompt, stern, inflexible justice; terror thus issues from virtue; it is less a particular maxim than a consequence of the general principle of democracy applied to the most pressing needs of the fatherland.154

The activities of the Committee on Public Safety were seconded by those of the Revolutionary Tribunal, an extraordinary court whose sentences could not be appealed, and the Committee of General Security, which oversaw policing. In July, the Constitution was suspended and an indefinite state of emergency was declared. Strict price controls came into force (to regulate the price of bread and other necessities), many political clubs were banned (including women’s groups) and censorship became tight. Special legislation was passed which removed many of the previous legal and procedural safeguards necessary to protect people accused of crimes, especially those against the revolution. All the principles and legal safeguards to protect citizens from arbitrary power, as set down in 1789, as well as the constitutions of 1791 and 1793 were suspended, and all the judicial safeguards against arbitrary justice disappeared. The Committee of Public Safety, seeking to speed up the delivery of sentences, decided to deny accused prisoners the right of counsel, and reduced the number of jurors necessary for a conviction. They explained that patriots had nothing to fear from patriotic judges, that legal forms were the tricks of deceptive lawyers, and that written records and oral testimony were not reliable proof because they could be falsified. Amongst the new rules set out, it was explained: The revolutionary tribunal is instituted to punish the enemies of the people … The enemies of the people are those who seek to destroy public liberty, either by force or by artifice … [including] … those who have deceived the people or the representatives of the people, those who have sought to promote discouragement … those who spread false news … The accused shall be examined in public session: the formality of the secret examination which precedes is supressed as superfluous … if proof exists, either material or moral … there shall be no further hearing of testimony … No written depositions shall be received.155

The Revolutionary Tribunal sent opposing political opponents (the Girondins) and Queen Marie Antoinette to their deaths. She was charged with a catalogue of issues involving, inter alia, squandering the wealth of France as her own, through to secretly diverting French funds to Austria. It did not help her case that she was linked to every counter-revolutionary threat, and these allegations were matched to those involving her own sexual impropriety. As it was, the main charge that emerged was a type of treason, for influencing the king against his people, and plotting the downfall of France. Although Marie Antoinette would have been an excellent bargaining chip in the war with Austria, the revolutionary regime was in no mood to compromise. On 10 October 1793, the government of France announced it was determined to be, ‘revolutionary until the peace’.156 Six days later, on 16 October, Marie Antoinette was sent to the guillotine. The death of the queen was only one out of perhaps 27,000 throughout France who would die by execution (17,000) or while suffering imprisonment (10,000), as part of the 300,000 suspected enemies of the Revolution who were arrested during this period.157

(c) The Return to Stability within France The Terror lasted until 27 July 1794, when Robespierre, the architect of the French Revolution’s darkest period, was overthrown by the National Convention. He, along with many of the other leading members of the Committee on Public Safety, was then executed by the same methods (guillotine) as were the thousands of victims that the Committee had sent to their deaths. In the aftermath of this event, the Revolutionary Tribunal ceased to function, and the Committee of Public Safety lost its authority. The prisons were emptied of the majority of the political prisoners, and the French Revolution became decidedly less radical.158 Almost immediately the Convention began planning a new form of government and drafting a new Constitution. The goal was to secure the Republic, but without the concentration of emergency powers that they had just witnessed and the excesses that went with it. The new Constitution, unveiled on 22 August 1795, began with a reworked Declaration of Rights and Duties of the Citizen. The 1795 model was distinct from its predecessors in several ways. The rights to free speech, assembly, and insurrection, as they were cast in 1789, were all gone. Although the right to petition remained, it was limited. These changes were supplemented with an amnesty for many former enemies, clemency towards opponents, return of property, even a grudging toleration towards the Catholic Church. The radical sections of the press and political clubs were also brought under control. In addition, the economy was put onto a more rational basis, in which state intervention and limited private enterprise began to work together.159 The new constitution also dropped the right to education and public relief. The judiciary was reformed. In addition, the rules on suffrage were all reworked. The new constitution abandoned the near-universal male suffrage promised earlier and instead, created a two-tiered electoral system that would serve as a bulwark against popular government. Accordingly, qualified voters (men who paid direct taxes or had served in the army) would chose electors; while the electors (a far more elite group of men who paid taxes equal to 150–200 days of labour) chose the political representatives of the nation. These two steps ruled out a large part of the French population from the franchise. Finally, in an attempt to create a separation and balance of powers, not only was the power of Paris (as an entity, and the revolutionary hotbed) reduced, France was now given a two-chambered legislature, divided between the lower Council of Five Hundred and the upper Council of (250) Ancients/Elders (the conservative check). Executive Power was now exercised by a five-man Directory whose members were chosen by the Council of Five Hundred.160

9.

The War Changes, Turns and Expands

(a) Survival Although the forces against France continued to recruit ever-larger subsidies of troops against

their enemy161 in 1794, the tide on the battlefield against the French Republic stopped rising. In northern France, as Britain, Prussia and the United Provinces coordinated to field large amounts of troops,162 on 26 April, at the Battle of Beaumont-en-Cambresis, their force of 20,000 men defeated a French force of about 30,000, with some 7,000 casualties in the process. However, three weeks later, still in northern France at Tourcoing on 17 May, a French force of over 70,000 men defeated a combined Austrian-British force of 48,000 men, killing or wounding 4,000 of them and taking prisoner a further 1,500. This loss was achieved as the complicated, and failed, marching patterns of the allies in this action, gave rise to the satirical nursery rhyme, the ‘Grand Old Duke of York’.163 The opposing armies then clashed again at Tournai on 22 May, but the larger French force could not drive home the victory against the coalition, with some 5,500 killed or wounded, and 500 taken prisoner. Around the same time, a further clash occurred at Erquelines, where a joint Austrian-Dutch force trumped a larger French force, with 3,000 casualties, and a further 2,400 taken prisoner. On the coast of France’s north-western tip, on 1 June, a critical French convoy of 300 grain ships from America, necessary to combat the terrible food shortages in France, broke through the allied lines. Although this cost the French navy seven ships and 400 lives, it defeated the risk of famine in the Republic. The French land forces returned to the offensive a few days later in early June, forcing Yprès to surrender. The French took a further beating at Lambusart on 16 June (losing 3,000 of the 73,000 who fought), before 70,000 of their troops achieved a solid victory (inflicting over 5,000 casualties) on the 45,000 Austrian-British and Dutch forces at Fleurus on 26 June. This last result was so significant that it allowed the French to advance and occupy all of the Austrian Netherlands and led the British to evacuate most of their forces from the Continent, as the French forces began to enter the United Provinces.164 The French forces made similar progress on the Italian front in 1794, when 20,000 of their men defeated a force of 8,000 Austrian-Sardinian soldiers at Saogio on 24 April, making casualties of quarter of them. Against Spain, the French captured Campmany on 17 November, and pushed the Spanish forces back throughout the Pyrenees.The 9,000-man Spanish garrison of San Fernando surrendered to 20,000 French soldiers on 28 November 1794.165 In the following year, 1795, there were revolts in Paris by both revolutionary radicals (in May) and then pro-Royalists (in October). The latter was particularly important, as there was a real fear of a possible restoration of the Bourbon monarchy, after the brother of Louis XVI, the Comte de Provence (who renamed himself Louis XVIII) issued his Declaration of Verona on 24 June 1795. He sought a direct return to the past, with a return to the absolutism of the monarchy and no concessions, at all, to the revolution. His call for action was to: [R]establish in our empire the reign of order and laws … the ancient and wise constitution … we wish to restore all its purity … we are called hither by our rights and we know how to defend them … We shall be reduced to the necessity of conquering our countrymen, confiding in the justice of our cause … for the re-establishment of our throne … we will make religion once more flourish in the empire of the most Christian Kings.166

Three days later on 27 June 1795, the British fleet landed a force of 17,000 French émigrés and royalists at Quiberon in Brittany. However, these men were easily defeated, with 1,700

killed or wounded and a further 6,300 taken prisoner. The rest beat a speedy retreat to Britain. Although these royalist forces were quickly defeated on the coast, the pro-royalist forces fermented in Paris, and on 3 October, some 20,000 (mostly disgruntled National Guardsmen) rioted. It was against this this pro-Royalist anger that Napoleon ordered his artillery to open fire and created the famous ‘whiff of grapeshot’ as the ammunition cut through the Parisian crowd, killing, perhaps, 1,400.167 (b) The Fragmentation of the First Coalition The biggest challenge for Louis XVIII was not defeat of the invasion and the crushing of the uprising in Paris, but the fact that, in 1795, the French Republic managed to break off three large countries, and a series of smaller areas, from the First Coalition fighting against them. Although Austria, Britain and Russia continued to iterate their allegiance168 to each other and fighting revolutionary France, the number of other countries supporting them began to dwindle. The first peace of 17 February 1795 was with fellow-French enemies of the revolution in the much-bloodied Vendee region. Here (although some belligerents refused to accept its terms), most of the region came to peace via the Treaty of La Jaunaye. The core of this treaty was the rebels recognised the French Republic, and in exchange, received a number of guarantees. These included freedom of religion, the non-applicability of conscription to their region, a general amnesty and even the promise of an indemnity.169 The second peace of 1795 was with Prussia. They made peace with France in the (first) Treaty of Basel on 5 April.170 Prussia quit the fight because of a lack of subsidies from England; a lack of depth in the relationship with Austria; and because they wanted to position themselves better for the (third) division of Poland and their share of the spoils.171 The terms of the peace permitted France to occupy the left bank of the Rhine until a general peace was concluded, and by secret clause to the same settlement, to acquire that same area, by purchase. The agreement also had the King of Prussia offer his services as a facilitator to others who might want peace with France.172 The third peace (and the second country to be broken off from the First Coalition) was with the United Provinces. This splintering followed French forces making rapid advances in early 1795. They captured Utrecht on 18 January and then penned in most of the Dutch fleet in the middle of February. At this point, the United Provinces came to an end when its Stadtholder, William V, fled to England. A few days later, although William V told his men to keep fighting, the last forces of the United Provinces capitulated, and with them, the confederated republic that had existed in that part of the world since 1581.173 The United Provinces was replaced by the Batavian Republic. This was designed to be a sibling to the French Republic. The relationship between these two was settled on 16 May 1795 in the Treaty of the Hague. With this deal, a defensive alliance was struck, and the Barrier Forts which had been so much of the focus of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, were dismantled. The Batavian Republic then ceded to France the areas of

Maastricht, Velno and Zeelandic Flanders. They also provided an indemnity for their part in the war, a large loan to France at a low rate of interest, and agreed to pay the costs of a French army of occupation of 25,000 men in their territory until the wider war ended.174 The fourth peace that the French Republic made (and the third country to be broken off the First Coalition) was with Spain. There ongoing conflict with France had begun well in 1795, when 35,000 men under the directions of Charles IV defeated a French force of 25,000 men at Bascar on 14 June. However, although the Spanish could achieve this victory, they were aware that as the French had now made peace with both Prussia and the United Provinces/Batavia Republic, from which more troops could now be deployed against them. The evidence of this was further French advances into Catalonia, before they marched towards Castile. With this surge, the Spanish realised that the best chance for survival was to make peace with France. Accordingly, the two countries signed the (second) Treaty of Basel, on 22 July 1795. With this, King Charles IV of Spain concluded, ‘peace, friendship and good understanding’175 with the French Republic. In exchange for France restoring, ‘all territories taken from [Charles IV] during this present war’, the Spanish ceded, ‘all Spanish possessions on the island of Santo Domingo in the Antilles, and all rights thereto’. Finally, Charles promised, as ‘tangible proof of the friendship’ now between the Spanish monarchy and the French Republic, to try to broker peace deals between France and Portugal, Naples and Sardinia. The fifth peace and the final external enemy to make peace with the French Republic in 1795 was the Landgraviate of Hesse-Kassel. They agreed to stop fighting directly (or providing troops to proxies) on 28 August. They, like the other smaller areas of Saxony, Hanover and Tuscany, all realised that the momentum and power, was with, not against, the French Republic.176 Finally of note in terms of the French diplomatic successes in 1795, the previous neutrality of Sweden began to melt, as Paris settled a new secret treaty of alliance with Stockholm.177 (c) Concentrated Forces on Fewer Enemies With all these larger and smaller enemies out of the fight against them, France could now direct even larger forces against Austria. The clashes in 1795 along the Rhine front occurred as the massive armies stalked each other, and the Bavarian and Austrian forces, knowing the exit of their Prussian friends, started to make what looked like tactical withdrawals. However, these were ruses, and they quickly returned to the offensive, taking Mannheim (which had recently been occupied by the French) on 19 October, and then, ten days later, on 29 October at Mainz (today, central south-west Germany) they inflicted a defeat on the French, causing 3,000 casualties and taking 1,800 prisoners (for about half the loss to the Austrians). The French also managed to put renewed effort into the Italian front in 1795. This drive began after a difficult start, losing two warships (600 dead and 1,000 captured) out of 15

vessels to British forces, in a large naval battle off Genoa. They lost another warship in a further naval battle near the Hyeres Islands on 17 July. However, by the end of the year, the results had turned. The French won a considerable victory on land at Loano (just past Monaco, on the coast) on 23 November 1795, when 25,000 Frenchmen defeated a combined force of Austrians and Piedmontese, inflicting 3,500 casualties and taking a further 4,000 prisoner.178 The war against Austria deepened in 1796. In the territories of modern-day Germany, armies, typically with around 20,000 to 30,000 on each side clashed at Wetzlar (above Frankfurt, on 15 June), Uckerath (east of Bonn, on 19 June) and then Malsch (west of Stuttgart on 9 July). These clashes were so significant, that in July, Hamburg signed a secret treaty179 with France, while Wurtemburg, Baden, and most of Swabia, all agreed to an armistice, which was followed by a peace deal. Each agreement typically had the German areas in question promise neutrality in the conflict as it went forward, rather than face outright defeat.180 The remaining Austrian and still-allied German forces clashed at Neresheim (south-west of Nuremburg on 11 August) and then Amberg (on 24 August east of Nuremburg). The biggest clash of 1796, at Wurzburg (north-west of Nuremburg on 3 September) left 2,000 dead or wounded French with a further 1,000 taken as prisoners. The final battle for the year in this region was at Biberach (south-east of Stuttgart) on 2 October. With this killing, Bavaria, also, settled an armistice with France.181 In Italy in 1796, although the forces typically deployed were initially smaller than in Germany, the trend was similar with successful battles, followed by armistices with the Italian areas, as stepping stones towards peace, while the primary enemy in this theatre, the Habsburg monarchy of Austria battled on. Here, Napoleon started out with a string of victories, that began at Montenotte (west of Genoa, on 12 April) before driving the Austrians out of nearby Dego three days later (inflicting 700 casualties and taking prisoner a further 4,000). Napoleon then thumped Piedmont/Sardinia so hard at Mondovi (22 April) that he knocked them out of the war (after they had suffered 10,000 casualties). They sued for peace at the end of April, surrendering Nice and Savoy to the French Republic.182 In May, Parma and Modena next went for an armistice with France.183 Southern Italy (the two Sicilies) stopped fighting in early June, preferring to withdraw the four cavalry regiments they had given to the Austrians, and their vessels to the English – rather than face a full-scale invasion led by Napoleon.184 Pope Pius VI and the Papal States followed suit on 23 June, with the Armistice of Bologna.185 To get the French to agree to a ceasefire (in anticipation of a proper treaty forthcoming) the Pope had to agree to a large payment of an indemnity, the loss of works of art and loss of territory.186 Napoleon then pursued the retreating Austrians, past Milan and caught their rearguard at Lodi (central north Italy), inflicting a few hundred casualties, and taking 1,700 prisoners. He then hit them at Borghetto (between Milan and Venice), forcing them to leave only one strong force of 12,700 men in the region, at Mantua (to the east of Milan), which the French then besieged. As Austrian armies then descended from the north, repeatedly trying to relieve the siege at Mantua, Napoleon smashed them. The French took 3,000 prisoners and inflicted

1,000 casualties at Lonato on 3 August, and then defeated them again at Castiglione on 5 August (2,000 casualties and 1,000 prisoners). The French hit them again at Roveredo and Caliano on 4 September (6,000 casualties and 3,000 prisoners) and then again at Bassano with a further thousand losses, and defeat, for the Austrians. Napoleon then, in October, carved out a new territory, with Genoa turning into the Ligurian Republic with strong links of friendship187 to France following Napoleon’s intervention in support of an uprising. Despite this trend of losses, Pope Pius VI, determined to stand against the revolutionary forces of France, renounced the armistice he had agreed for the Papal States a few months earlier. This coincided with further Austrian attempts in November 1796 to relieve Mantua. This time, the Austrians scored a victory (inflicting 3,500 French casualties) at the Second Battle of Bassano on 6 November. The Austrians then secured further victories at Cembra and Caliano (4,400 French casualties), followed by Caldiero on 12 November, where Napoleon himself was defeated on the field, losing nearly 2,000 of his men. Despite his precarious position, Napoleon swung back at Arcola (south-eat of Verona) in a three-day battle from the middle of November. Although Napoleon lost nearly a quarter of his 20,000 force, the losses for the enemy were larger (2,500 casualties and 4,000 prisoners), to which the Austrians then turned back. A second Austrian force, was also forced to retreat after meeting Napoleon’s army on 21 November.188 (d) The Widening War Spain re-entered the war in 1796, except this time it was against, not with, the British. The pathway to this began on 18 August 1796, when the Spanish king, Charles IV, made an offensive and defensive alliance with the French Republic. This deal promised both warships and soldiers if requested by either France or Spain of the other. Article XVIII explained the target in the following terms: Since England is the only power involved in this war to make direct attacks on Spain, this present treaty shall … have effect in respect to that Power and Spain shall maintain a neutral posture vis-à-vis the other Powers [i.e. Austria] presently at war with the French Republic.189

Seven weeks later, on 11 October 1796, Spain went one step further and declared war on Britain because of, inter alia: [T]he conduct of England towards us throughout the war and … her long experience of perfidy … Her silence during the negotiations with the United States of America and the 1794 [ Jay] treaty … wherein she paid not the slightest regard or respect for Our rights … we have … solid evidence for suspecting an attack from England on our possessions … we have been insulted … she recognises no law but that of aggrandisement of Her own trade, achieved by Her global despotism on the High Seas; our patience is spent, our forbearance exhausted.190

It was not until the next year that the Spanish clashed with the British at the Battle of Cape Saint Vincent on 14 February 1797. In this engagement, the Spanish lost four ships, suffered 800 casualties and had 3,000 taken prisoner. Conversely, the British lost no ships and suffered only 500 casualties. At Tenerife, on 25 July of the same year, the Spanish

successfully fought off a British attempt to land in the Canary Islands (in which Lord Horatio Nelson was shot and lost his arm). The British regained the honour for their navy when at Camperdown on 11 October, the Batavian Republic/Dutch lost 11 of their 26 ships and recorded over 1,100 casualties. The British lost no ships, but suffered 825 casualties.191 As this was occurring, the French then closed the diplomatic door that had helped Britain so much in the past in this part of the world, and they made peace with Portugal.192 This deprived the British of the option of calling for help from them, as in the past. (e) Peace in Italy and Peace with Austria Although the British ruled the High Seas, the French were gaining control of most of the disputed lands they were fighting for. This was especially evident in Italy. Their wins in that part of the world began with the fourth attempt by Austrian forces to relieve Mantua. The result, at Rivoli on 14 January, was that out of a force of 28,000 Austrians, they suffered casualties to about half of their force, while the French lost a quarter of their 20,000. This Austrian failure lead to the surrender of over 16,000 men at Mantua in early February. This victory on the battlefield for France in this part of the world was then followed by further diplomatic achievements in the same area. Seeing the continual stream of French military successes, Tuscany obtained an agreement of neutrality193 with France in early February, while Sardinia moved its position from armistice, to peace, to alliance with the French.194 The next to seek peace were the Papal areas which quit the fight as 9,000 French soldiers invaded the Papal Romagna region. This peace that followed, with the Treaty of Tolentino, was signed on 19 February 1797.195 In exchange for an end to hostilities, the indemnity demanded at the original armistice at Bologna (which the Pope had breached) was to be increased by a third. The papal area of Avignon and associated territories was formally ceded to France, as was the Romagna region. The Papal states also had to accept a French ambassador, Napoleon’s oldest brother, Joseph. Finally, over 100 pieces of artwork and other historical treasures were made available for French commissioners to choose and then take back to France.196 The Austrians, now completely alone in Italy, suffered one further clash against the French at Malborghetto/Tarvis (near the border of Austria/Italy) on 23 March. This was another defeat with the loss of a further 1,000 casualties and 3,500 taken prisoner. These losses were also reflected in Germany. There, what had begun well for Francis II in early 1797 (forcing the French from their holdings around Kehl, at a cost of about 4,000 casualties for the French and 4,800 for the Austrians) had turned over the following months. At Lahn/Neuwied on 18 April 1797 the Austrians suffered 1,000 casualties and had 3,000 taken prisoner. Two days later, at Diersheim (north-east of Kehl), some 24,000 Austrians were defeated by a French force nearly double their size (with both losing about 3,000 men). These losses were only a small part of the overall Austrian casualties since 1792 (94,700 killed, 100,000 wounded and 220,000 taken prisoner). These results made Francis II

recognise that the war could not continue, especially since Napoleon was now marching directly towards Vienna.197 The armistice that was arranged at Leoben (in Austria) on 7 April was slowly rolled out over different military theatres over the following months. As this truce settled, Venice fell. Intervention here followed an altercation (when a French sea captain was fired upon for being in a Venetian area in which he should not have been), which gave Napoleon the chance he wanted to be able to support uprisings in Venetian territories, and enter a war against the old republic. After ten days of fighting, the Venetian authorities abolished themselves as an independent state, thus ending 1,200 years of their existence in that formation. Five thousand French troops entered Venice on 16 May, and on the same day, a new treaty198 was stuck with the now pro-French puppet Venetian government. With this, the Venetians agreed to give to France five naval vessels, a ‘contribution’ of 1.5 million francs, territory to be utilised in the wider peace-treaty with Austria, 20 paintings and 500 manuscripts. In return, France promised an ‘eternal friendship’.199 The truce with Austria turned into a preliminary peace treaty in late April, before coming into flower as the full and binding Treaty of Campo Formio, concluded on 17 October 1797.200 This treaty was a victory for the French Republic. The list of what France acquired began with Article III: His Majesty, the Emperor, [Francis II] … renounces in favor of the Republic of France, … all claims, rights and titles to the Belgian provinces known as the Austrian Netherlands. The Republic of France shall possess these territories in perpetuity, having full sovereignty and ownership …

Next, Francis II acknowledged the Cisalpine Republic (formerly the Duchy of Modena, in northern Italy, with Milan as its capital) as an ‘independent and autonomous power’.201 This Cisalpine Republic was then folded into a military alliance with France.202 France also acquired the three Venetian islands of Corfu, Zakinthos and Cephalonia. In exchange, Francis II was acknowledged as ‘retaining possession in full sovereignty and ownership of … Dalmatia and Venetia’.203 Additional, secret articles of this treaty agreed to ‘extending the frontiers of the Republic of France’204 with a section of, inter alia, ‘the left bank of the Rhine’ as far as Andernach, as well as associated territories such as Falkenstein and Frickthal (although some were passed directly to the Helvetic Republic). In addition, as some of the areas on the left bank were in dispute, with other (non-Austrian) claimants involved, it was agreed that a further meeting at Rastadt with the other interested parties, ‘to institute peace’ would be held. Napoleon’s work in Italy was not yet done. Of note, in Rome, at the very end of 1797 there was a protest of sorts, during which the French military attaché was killed. The response from France was a large military force marching into Rome, and on 10 February, proclaiming the area to be a republic. The people were then declared sovereign, feudalism (and all its restrictions) was abolished, and a modern constitution (modelled on the French example) was given to them, along with a new flag for their new Roman Republic. Pope Pius VI was then placed under arrest and taken into exile.205 Finally, during the same period of early 1798, French forces also crossed into Switzerland

on 5 March 1798. The French relationship with the Swiss had always been nuanced. At the macro level, there had been a long-standing alliance between the two areas, going back hundreds of years. This relationship had been updated in the l770s.206 The strength of this relationship was such that it was the Swiss Guards of the French king, Louis XVI, who had died defending the Tuileries palace, not French ones. However, as much as there were very loyal Swiss who wished to defend the French monarchy, there were at least an equal number who were besotted with the goals of the French revolution and wanted their land to join with France. The chance for the French Republic to intervene with the Thirteen Cantons/Old Swiss Confederation arose when a dispute appeared over a small slice of frontier, the Valtelline (in the Lombardy region of northern Italy). This territory had already been stripped away and handed over to the existing Cisalpine Republic, which had been created in the wake of the Battle of Lodi. When a disturbance occurred in this area, the French used it is as a justification to invade, and quickly overrun, all of Switzerland. Although revolt in several Cantons broke out against the French intervention, they were supressed one by one. The last rebel canton, Nidwalden, surrendered on September 1798. With this result, the Old Swiss Confederation was completely restructured, and with some local support, turned into the Helvetic Republic (as modelled on the French revolutionary system). The Helvetic Republic was then tied into France with an alliance of offence and defence.207

10.

Britain Fights Alone

(a) Ireland Following the Treaty of Campo Formio in late 1797, Britain was fighting alone against the French Republic. The French, by this time, had worked out that the best way to combat Britain was to try to splinter Ireland away from the control of London. They began significant efforts towards this goal in the middle of December 1796 when they sent an expedition of 17 ships of the line and 14 frigates, holding 15,000 French revolutionary troops, all of which sailed from Brest, with the goal of invading Ireland and sparking a revolution there. However, this expedition was defeated by the weather, with only a fraction (1,400) of the men managing to land on British territory (in Wales) where they were quickly overcome, while the vast majority of the others slowly sailed back to France.208 Ireland was a wise target, as there was strong discontent in the land. Although the Irish Parliament had achieved legislative independence in 1782, there was still strong discrimination in the land.209 Catholics were excluded from the franchise by law, and the Presbyterians by social custom. The result was that Ireland continued to be under the rule of a minority of Anglican landowners, who had strong linkages to the British Crown. Against this power, and in awe of the French Revolution, the Society of United Irishmen, composed of some Catholic and Protestant (more Presbyterian than Anglican) groupings, together from 1791, argued for a complete cession of Ireland from England. This group wanted not only

separation, but also a republic with direct and wide emancipation, for all males over 21. These goals became increasingly difficult after the Society for United Irishmen was made illegal in 1794, due to its links with French revolutionary forces.210 Although some efforts were made to improve education opportunities for Catholics in Ireland, to many, this was too little (they wanted full male emancipation, irrespective of faith) and too late. If any further evidence was then needed to show how powerless they were, the Insurrection Act of 1796 gave additional powers to the authorities to control the situation and quell any potential uprisings. However, these new powers could not prevent the formation of new secret societies. The most notable of these was the non-sectarian, so-called, United Irishmen. In 1797, this (illegal) group pledged: 1st. That the weight of English influence in the government of this country is so great, as to require a cordial union among all the people of Ireland, to maintain that balance which is essential to the preservation of our liberties, and extension of our commerce. 2nd. That the sole constitutional mode by which this influence can be opposed is by a complete and radical reform of the representation of the people in parliament. 3rd. That no reform is practical, efficacious, or just, which shall not include Irishmen of every religious persuasion.211

The armed uprising that finally did occur in Ireland in the middle of 1798 was sparked, not just by the revolutionary principles by groups such as the United Irishmen but, more so, by the excessively harsh actions under martial law which were imposed under the Insurrection Act upon members (both real and imaginary) of the Irish rebels. However, the uprising that then occurred, as their leaders were arrested, was fragmentary and nowhere near as national throughout Ireland as many hoped it would be. This failure was primarily due to the fact that the still-strongly Catholic majority did not get the necessary push from the clergy, as these religious leaders now believed that their Catholic faith was more threatened by Revolutionary France than their long-standing enemy of Anglican England.212 Although there was no national uprising, in some parts of the country, the rebels did seize control, such as at Wicklow and Wexford. However, these irregular forces were put down after a pitched battle at Vinegar Hill on 21 June 1798. The British lost 100 of their 18,000 men and the United Irishmen, perhaps 1,000 of their 20,000. These losses were then rapidly compounded after the British King, George III, told his ministers, ‘I trust … that as the sword is drawn it [will] not be returned into the sheath until the whole country has submitted without condition.’213 The result was that thousands more lives were lost, mostly non-combatants, in what became a bloody purge of those who may have supported the revolt. When some 1,000 French forces were finally landed in late August, the uprising was largely over, to which they too surrendered, on 8 September. The cumulative result in Ireland, in human terms, was that somewhere between 10,000 and 25,000 rebels (the vast majority non-combatants) lost their lives, in addition to some 600 or so British soldiers.214 In political terms, the Irish Parliament voted itself out of existence, and from the year 1800, ‘the Kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland’ were ‘united into one kingdom’.215

(b) Reform in Paris The regime in Paris which celebrated the Treaty of Campo Formio in late October 1797, was not the regime which had welcomed the truce that was arranged at Leoben (in Austria) on 18 April. During those few months there had been a great deal of internal change. The first elections held after the formation of the Directory in March and April 1797, to replace one-third of the members of the Council, resulted in a large defeat for the status quo. The electors returned a large number of royalist sympathies and/or those seeking a constitutional monarchy and greater tolerance towards Catholicism. This change at the polls was also reflected in a number of grass roots regions, although here the fear was of citizens being too radical, rather than too conservative. The Council of Five Hundred responded by decreeing the closure of all political clubs at the end of July. Subscribers to various newspapers were arrested, and when evidence was produced that some of the new members may have been intriguing with the British, a coup took place on 4 September 1797. In the wake of the coup, two (of the five) Directors were deported to Guinea, along with 53 deputies. In addition, 49 department elections were nullified. Some 42 newspapers were banned, 32 journalists were arrested and provincial administrations were purged. The Directory explained to the French public that this was necessary because the Republic: [H]as been threatened by a royalist plot … Frenchmen, open your eyes; it is time to acknowledge the snares in which the king’s friends and the enemies of France want to entrap you … they have omitted nothing to return France to monarchical principles, and despotic institutions.216

Although the repression that followed the 1797 coup was real, it was on a much smaller scale than the Terror of only a few years earlier. After 1798, no further political prisoners were sent offshore. In the final year of the Directory (1799), only one person was executed for a political offence. Nonetheless, although the repression was rapidly ending, there was no option of France returning to being a monarchy of any flavor. Nor was there an option of a peace with Britain, or not continuing the spread of the ideology and fruits of the French Revolution. (c) The Invasion of Egypt The event that dominated the year of 1798 was the French invasion of Egypt. France had formal commercial and navigation arrangements with Egypt from 1785.217 Thirteen years later, on 12 April 1798, the French Directory instructed Napoleon to invade this territory. Aside from the diplomatic affronts of two public beatings of the French consul general and the French merchants in Egypt being forced to give loans, the invasion was also justified because: The Beys [local chieftans] who have seized the government of Egypt have established intimate ties with the English and have placed themselves under their absolute dependence … it is the duty to pursue the enemies of the Republic wherever they may be and in any place where they engage in hostile activities.218

The Directory also noted that as the British had such command of the High Seas, that: Access to India … [was] very difficult to the vessels of the Republic … it is important to open the Republican forces another route, to combat the satellites of the English government and dry up the source of its corruptive riches … the French Republic [should have] … the free and exclusive possession of the Red Sea.219

Napoleon was also instructed to, ‘improve by all the means at his disposal, the conditions of the natives of Egypt’.220 Finally, despite the fact that he had invaded one of his provinces, Napoleon was told to try to maintain good relations with the Ottoman Sultan. In the pursuit of these orders, Napoleon left France on 19 May 1798 with 36,000 soldiers in 400 transports, guarded by 100 warships. Although only one in three of these men would survive to return to France, at its outset, Napoleon was full of hope for the expedition. In explaining the mission to his men as they set sail, he stated: Soldiers, you are going to carry out a conquest the effects of which upon the civilisation and commerce of the world are beyond all calculation. You will give England the most definite and palpable blow that could be given [as it was a pathway to attack the English in India … and] … the Mamluk Beys who give all their favour to English commerce, and have overwhelmed our merchants with humiliations and who tyrannise over the unfortunate inhabitants of the Nile region … [deserve to be toppled].221

Napoleon, in his own proclamation to the Egyptian people went further, and painted himself as a protector of Islam and saviour of the Egyptian people, promising them, ‘I have come to restore your rights, to punish the usurpers, and that I respect the Mamluks’ God, his Prophet and the Quran’.222 The first victory Napoleon achieved was the conquest of Malta, captured en route to Egypt, on 12 June with its 1,200 man Knights of Malta garrison surrendering with fewer than half a dozen deaths. It was then occupied, under the justification that unless the French took it, the British would. The surrender document had the Order of the Knights ‘renounce all rights of sovereignty and property to the islands of Malta … in favour of the French Republic’. In exchange, France promised to ‘use its influence’ to find an ‘appropriate principality’223 for the Grand Master and the Order (but never did). Once occupied and garrisoned by some 6,000 troops (2,000 of whom would die of disease) Malta was blockaded by the British until it surrendered. However, it was not the loss of so many men that would have the greatest impact upon France, but rather, that the new Russian Tsar, Paul I, was (despite his Orthodox faith) patron to the (Catholic) Knights of Malta. The result was that Paul, already angry about the French revolution, now prepared to join the fight against the Republic.224 Alexandria was Napoleon’s next victory on 1 July 1798. This success occurred as the French force of 4,500 easily defeated the opposition, making casualties of 700 of them (at a loss of about one-seventh of that for themselves), to which the authorities surrendered four days later.225 The next battle was beneath the pyramids on 13 July, at which Napoleon encouraged his men, telling them, ‘Soldiers, from the summit of these pyramids forty centuries look down upon you’.226 The encouragement (as well as discipline and modern military technology) worked well. In the battle that followed, the Egyptians lost several thousand out of their total force of 21,000, while the French lost only 29 dead and 260

wounded, out of their 25,000. The victory beneath the pyramids allowed Napoleon to enter Cairo the next day.227 The good news for Napoleon came to an end on 1 August 1798 when the British fleet under Horatio Nelson with 14 vessels (1,012 canons and 8,000 men), superior seamanship and initiative, caught the French fleet off guard in Aboukir Bay (with 13 ships of the line and 4 frigates, of 1,182 canons and also 8,000 sailors). Although the British had nearly 900 casualties (including Nelson as one of the 218 killed in action), the French force was decimated. Six of their ships of the line were captured, and a further five were sunk. They lost 1,700 killed, 1,500 wounded and 3,200 were taken prisoner. Most noticeable of all, the French land forces were now trapped in Egypt.228 The following month on 9 September, Napoleon received further bad news when Sultan Selim III of the Ottoman Empire declared war on France. Istanbul not only had a strong dislike of the anti-religious French revolutionaries, they also had the ultimate justification, namely, the invasion of Egypt which was one of their territories. They justified their declaration of war against France in the following terms: They [i.e. France] suddenly attacked like a pirate and seized Egypt, the most previous dominion of the Sublime State, in a manner the like of which has never been seen, and which is contrary to international law and to the legal rules that are valid among states.229

The Muslim theologians joined in after getting the nod from Istanbul, reading various Ottoman decrees proclaiming a jihad against the French. Religious leaders called for the ‘assembling of the troops of all of the provinces of the [Ottoman] Empire’ who under the, ‘powerful protection of the Prophet’ would ‘exterminate’230 the French intruders. As this was occurring, the occupation by Napoleon of Egypt began to worsen. This was evidenced not only by the failure of the Mamluks to submit to the French, but also the uprisings that started to occur throughout the occupied area, including, most notably, in Cairo on 22 October. During this revolt, while some 300 French were killed, so too were some 2,000 Egyptians, as well as six sheiks and 80 political prisoners. In addition, the main mosque was shelled after a several thousand armed Muslims used it as a fortress.231

11.

The Second Coalition

King Ferdinand IV of Naples (the son of the Spanish king Charles III) and his wife, Maria Carolina (the sister to Marie Antoinette) could not live with the peace the Two Sicilies (southern Italy) had made with France in 1796. They reacted by signing an alliance with Austria on 20 May 1798.232 The deal was that if they were attacked (and those in Naples believed a full French invasion was imminent), they would receive 60,000 Austrian soldiers for defensive purposes. Similarly, if Austria (despite currently being in a recent peace with France) was attacked, they were to provide 40,000 Neapolitans. The Austrians, keen to help out the British, then told the Neapolitans that if they allowed Nelson and his fleet (who were returning from their stunning victory against the French in

Egypt) to dock in Neapolitan ports and be allowed to take on provisions, they would guarantee their safety from France. With this agreed, Nelson docked in Naples on 22 September 1798. With this arrival of the British fleet, the king and queen of Naples decided to declare war on the French Republic (even if the Austrians were not ready to make such a declaration in tandem). The result was 70,000 Neapolitan soldiers, at the end of November, advanced into the territories of the new Roman Republic in an effort to restore Papal authority. These efforts were matched by local uprisings against French authority in multiple places throughout Italy.233 At the same time as the revolts were breaking out, the Two Sicilies recorded treaties of alliance with both Russia234 (at the end of November) and Britain235 (on 1 December 1798). With this latter deal, the two sides promised joint action against the, ‘persons exercising the powers of government in France’ who were seeking to, ‘extend their conquests still further, to the destruction of all moral and political order … subjecting all Italy to the … spirit of disorder and anarchy’.236 Accordingly, the two realms promised to make, inter alia, ‘common cause in the war against France, and by concert together their naval and military operations, particularly in the Mediterranean’.237 The French responded to these developments by focusing on the source of discontent, the Neapolitans. The French then destroyed a force double their size at Civitavecchia (on the west coast of Italy, north of Rome) on 4 December, to which the opposition retreated in disarray, before receiving another battering at Calvi (when 7,000 surrendered). Following the second battle, the Neapolitan leadership was rescued by Nelson and the British fleet. Meanwhile the armed forces on land fragmented, and social groups (including those who were pro and anti the French Revolution) starting fighting each other, allowing the French military to advance and then storm Naples on 24 January of the following year. The French commander then proclaimed the so-called Parthenopean Republic, set along the revolutionary model, as with the other Republics.238 Although what happened to Naples was a disaster for the Neapolitans, the situation propelled Britain, Austria and Russia, into forming the Second Coalition. The first step was taken when the British concluded their alliance with Russia. This was designed to form a concert: To oppose the successes of the French arms, and the extension of the principles of anarchy, and to bring about a solid peace, together with the re-establishment of the balance of Europe and … if possible, to reduce France within its former limits, as they subsisted before the revolution.239

In addition to trying to entice Prussia into the alliance, the Russians promised to provide an army of 45,000 men, and the British promised healthy subsidies to keep Tsar Paul I happy as his armies were deployed beyond the borders of Russia.240 Then, in a reversal of hundreds of years of antagonism, the Ottoman Empire began to form military relationships with countries which it had either previously fought against. Now, in an age of increasing tolerance; and the necessity of finding new military allies, Istanbul began striking agreements well beyond the traditional (France and Sweden) western countries whom they had previously considered to be friends.241

The first, and perhaps most unexpected new friend, was Russia. This new defensive alliance between Moscow and Istanbul was signed on 23 December, 1798.242 In separate and secret articles Russia undertook to provide the Ottoman government with a fleet of 12 ships of the line and an army of between 75,000 and 80,000 men to fight their common enemy. In exchange, the Sultan allowed Russian troops to ferry through the straits. The second new friend for the Ottomans was Britain. This was solidified on 5 January 1799, when London and Istanbul, also struck a defensive alliance. This promised, ‘peace, good understanding and perfect friendship’, and the British guaranteed, ‘all of the possessions of the Ottoman Empire, without exception, such as they stood immediately before the invasion of the French into Egypt’.243 The Sultan then made a reciprocal guarantee for all of the possessions of Britain. A third new friend, that of the Two Sicilies, agreed an alliance with the Ottomans on 21 January 1799.244 The final country of significance to join the Second Coalition was Austria. This occurred after Francis II, the king of Austria (and Holy Roman Emperor) allowed the Russian troops of Tsar Paul, to cross his territories to join the British and Neapolitans fighting in Italy. On hearing of the Austrian permission, and seeing this as a breach of neutrality, France declared war on the Holy Roman Emperor Francis II on 12 March 1799. (a) Another Year of Blood: 1799 With this sudden re-spinning of a web of alliance against them, the French decided to quickly attack the Austrian positions in northern Italy, desiring a knock-out blow before the Russians could arrive. The first significant action began on 26 March (in three battles along the Adige river) which saw 41,000 Austrians go head-to-head and lose (4,300 killed and 2,700 taken prisoner) to a French-Sardinian force of 46,000 men (who would lose 4,500 of their own). In April, at Magnano (the top of modern-day north-west Italy) another massive battle saw 41,000 Austrians clashing with 40,600 French soldiers, with the latter losing 3,500 killed or wounded and a further 4,500 captured. Soon after the Russians reached their Austrian allies, they both drove down on the French, cornering 30,000 of them at Cassano (midway between Brescia and Milan), killing or wounding 2,500 of them, and capturing a further 3,800. At Trebia (also northern Italy) between 17–19 June another joint Russian and Austrian force decimated the French opposition, killing over 1,600 of the (33,000 strong) enemy and taking just under 7,700 prisoner (for only small costs to themselves). The French garrison at Mantua of 11,000 men surrendered on 28 July (after 3,100 had died or deserted). Finally, at Novi, the French army of 35,000 which attacked a combined Russian-Austrian force of 50,000, was repelled, with about a third of their number either killed or captured. As all of this was occurring, to the south, in June 1799, Royalist forces in Naples rebooted into a form of 17,000 irregulars and ejected the French from the city, in a process which saw 120 surrendered (Neapolitan) prisoners executed. The Neapolitans, in conjunction with the British, then went on to retake Rome from a French garrison of 4,500 men on 29 September 1799.245

At the same time that the opposing forces were clashing in northern Italy, they were also mauling each other in Switzerland. This was a series of rolling battles (involving forces of fewer than 12,000 each per time) where, in March 1799 alone, the two sides clashed at Maienfeld, Chur, Feldkirch and Nauders. The main battle of the year in Switzerland took place on 1 June, when 59,000 French were set upon by some 80,000 Austrians (with the latter losing the day, having killed or wounded just over 2,000, and taken an equal number prisoner). The opposing sides clashed at Zurich on 14 August, and then again at Dottingen, with the Austrians taking 7,500 casualties and the French 1,500. The Russians then took the lead in Switzerland for the allies, after concluding an alliance with the Bavarians.246 They recorded their next clash against the French, at (the second battle of) Zurich, on 25 September 1799. In this clash, the allies (primarily Russian) suffered 8,000 losses out of 27,000, while the French suffered 4,000 losses out of 35,000. Undeterred, the Russian forces continued to spar with the French as 20,000 Russians clashed with the enemy at St Gotthard Pass, Klontal, and then at Muottental, recording a few thousand casualties in each battle for each side.247 Along the Rhine, much larger armies stalked each other. At Ostrach (southern Germany) on 21 March, 28,000 Frenchmen (at a cost of 400 killed, 1,000 wounded and 2,000 captured) clashed into 26,000 Austrians (who lost a similar number). The French were then defeated at Stockach on 25 March, when their 35,000 faced off against an enemy double that number.248 The third theatre of note in 1799 was the Netherlands where a joint Anglo-Russian force landed, in the mistaken hope that the Dutch would rise up in support against their oppressors. As it was, the first part of the mission was a success. Not only did they neutralise the Dutch fleet, the 8,000 British troops scored victories at Groet-Keeten south of Texel on 27 August, and then victory again, with a now combined Anglo-Russian force at Zyper-Sluis on 10 September. However, these results were followed by deadlock at Bergen on 19 September (where just under 4,000 casualties were inflicted on the Anglo-Russian force, and about 3,300 casualties on the combined Dutch-French force of 22,000). The second clash at Bergen in early October, saw 28,000 allies collide with 23,500 in opposition, at which both sides lost a few thousand men. The result, after another small skirmish at Kastrikum, was the Convention of Allkmar on 12 October, when the Anglo-Russian force was allowed to exit peacefully, in exchange for the return of 8,000 Dutch and French prisoners.249 The fourth, and final, theatre of note in 1799 was Egypt, where the French continued to expand their occupation. The French won battlefield victories at Sediman on 7 October (inflicting 400 casualties on the enemy) and then again at Samhud on 22 January 1799 (killing 500 for the price of a single French soldier). French forces then began to advance into Syria, scoring their first victory at El Arish on 14 February. However, as the French forces started to become fragmented around the country, the Egyptians started to strike back, attacking isolated French outposts, without quarter. Napoleon entered Palestine and marched on Jaffa (modern-day Tel Aviv) which he took by storm on the 7th of March, 1799. For the price of 500 of his own men, 2,000 of the opposition were killed in the attack, and a further 2,441 executed as prisoners. He did this because he did not believe the prisoners would honour the terms of parole. Acre, however, could not be taken by 13,000 Frenchmen as

Egyptian soldiers, now aided by British artillery, defied Napoleon. Although over 2,000 defenders were killed, the French lost a total of 4,500 killed and wounded. This defeat forced Napoleon to retreat into Egypt. Once back in Egypt, he discovered that uprisings were occurring in many places. In addition, 18,000 Ottoman troops tried to land at Abukir in July 1799. With this action, the French recorded casualties of 1,000 out of 10,000 while the Ottomans lost 8,000. Again, although the French won the battle, they could not replenish their lost numbers – unlike their opposition.250

12.

Napoleon

The largest consequence of the battle at Abukir was not the death toll, but rather the actions of the British Admiral, who in a moment of truce, handed Napoleon a packet of European newspapers with the apparent aim of so demoralising the French commander that he would surrender when he read all the depressing news for France. However, rather than surrender, at the end of August, Napoleon boarded a fast frigate and returned to France, with the goal of saving the Republic. Napoleon landed on French soil on 9 October 1799. He found a country which was, once again, deep in conflict with multiple foreign powers, while facing numerous domestic troubles. The government was near bankrupt, while inflation, taxation and unemployment were soaring. There were fears of both a royalist revival on the one hand, and Jacobin resurgence on the other. The concerns were especially strong following the general election of 1798, which again saw a limited turnout. Again the Directory intervened to change the result as they feared it had now inclined too far to the left. Accordingly, the Directory annulled the elections in almost half of France’s 98 departments and put its own candidates in place. However, as this was done, debate flared up, with powerful voices in the Council of 500 calling for large ‘redistributions’ of property from the wealthy and middle classes. Once more, political clubs flourished, conscription was rigorously enforced, and there was talk of resurrecting The Terror. Napoleon recognised this situation as one whereby, ‘chaos and … the constitution was half destroyed and incapable of preserving liberty …’251 In early November 1799, the Council of the Five Hundred met in a special session outside Paris. This gathering was justified because the Directory feared there was a Jacobin plot to overthrow the regime. To ensure safety, Napoleon deployed armed soldiers around both Paris, and a further 6,000 men around the special sessions operating away from the capital. On 9 November, three of the five members of the Directory resigned, and the two bodies went into deep debate about what should happen next. The following day, 10 November, saw the ‘coup of 18 Brumaire’ (being the date in the revolutionary calendar when it occurred). This started when Napoleon entered the Council of the Ancients/Elders and portrayed himself as a saviour of the revolution. He promised to protect a Republic founded on, ‘true freedom, on civil liberties and national representation. We shall have it, I swear, in my name and in that of my companions in arms’.252 The Council of the Ancients was, however, unimpressed, seeing Napoleon as a modern type of Caesar, shouting him down. Shaken, but not defeated, Napoleon next made similar pleas to the

Council of the 500, promising to pursue ‘liberty, victory and peace’ as much as he pursued those guilty of ‘ineptitude and treason’.253 After some high drama (Napoleon’s own brother Lucien, the President of the Council of Five Hundred, threatened to kill Napoleon himself if he betrayed the revolution’s principles) a new body, a three-man Consulate, was formed, with Napoleon as First Consul. Finally, to ensure that no further dissent could echo, all of the Jacobin members in either the Council of the Ancients, or the Five Hundred, were expelled.254 A little over a month later, at the very end of 1799, a new constitution was unveiled. Although there were some promises of limited habeas corpus, warrants required for arrest, the right of petition, and all the words of liberty, equality, and fraternity, which had been so important a decade earlier, were gone. Although the principles of universal suffrage and representation of the citizens was maintained, rules for electoral colleges and high tax thresholds (to be eligible to participate) restricted the majority from participation. To the minds of many, the revolution had now come to an end, and within five years, Napoleon would be Emperor of the French.255

13.

Conclusion

The cause of the French Revolution was the absolutism of their monarchy. This absolutism meant that their political system was unable to adapt to meet both the pressing economic demands upon it, and the expectations of the populace, that they were entitled to liberty, equality and fraternity. The Bourbon monarchy in Versailles was incompatible with these goals. The rebels were deeply inspired by the War of American Independence that the French had directly supported. The differences between the two revolutions was that the one in France was not in a distant colony, that their king was directly attached to their land, and that the French were willing to be more radical than the Americans, against their own citizens, their own king, and the spread of their ideology. The result, was that what began with the philosophies of the Enlightenment, ended with the power of Napoleon. The causes of the wars of the French Revolution were two fold. With regard to the war against fellow-French people, the conflict was over the above questions. When the revolutionaries feared that they could lose their new Republic, that war against fellow French turned into The Terror. This had its foundations in fear and the justification that extreme times, justify extreme measures. These measures, previously unseen, involved everything from mass executions through to mass conscription, as everything, and near anything, became justifiable to survive. With regard to the war against other European nations, the cause of the wars was not so much the French citizens reaching for liberty, equality and fraternity, but rather, the execution of their monarchs. This probably would not have happened had Louis XVI and his family not tried to escape and failed. It is possible that the interested European countries would have intervened to prevent the spread of revolution in Europe, as had occurred in the United States. In the case of both the United Provinces and the Austrian Netherlands, revolutions based on the same seeds as that of the French flared but were then extinguished before they

could fully take hold. In the case of France, there appears to have been preparations for a similar conclusion. Where war became unavoidable was when the Prussians and Austrians threatened the French that if their king (Louis XVI) was harmed, there would be hell to pay. The revolutionaries then decided to test them on this promise. The Prussians and Austrians invaded, and were defeated following an unprecedented patriotism for the new Republic. Rather than search for peace after successfully defending themselves, the revolutionaries made total war their goal. This was done by first executing the king, then pushing into the territories of their enemies and exporting the values of the French revolution with them. This meant that the war went from being against their king, to against anyone with absolute power, anywhere. With each victory in taken lands, republics modelled on the French experiment were set up. This approach, ‘anarchy’ to the surrounding European powers who were not already at war with France was absolutely intolerable. It was no longer just about vengeance for the French king, it was now, also, about the protection of their own autocratic rule. The First Coalition, of every major country on the Continent then fell upon the French Republic. The fact that the French Republic was able to survive against the combined weight of First Coalition was remarkable. In addition to excellence on the battlefield, they developed a policy of breaking off the Coalition partners, one by one, with French diplomats being almost as busy as French soldiers. With each break, more weight was placed on those remaining. By 1798, every external enemy against France, except Britain, had opted for peace. The Second Coalition against the French Republic followed Napoleon’s invasion of Egypt. This invasion showed that although the revolutionary government in Paris was tempering its practices, its expansion of revolutionary ideology was ongoing. Large parts of Italy, Switzerland, and then Egypt were parts of this spread, on grounds of both principle and pragmatism. After the English trapped the French forces in Egypt, the Russians, the Neapolitans, and then the Austrians rebooted into the Second Coalition. The goal, this time, was not to destroy the revolutionary French Republic, but rather, to stop the spread of the revolutionary ideology and return France to the borders it possessed in 1792.

1 Gillespie, A (2017) The Causes of War (Oxford, Hart) Volume III:115–126. 2 For some of the complaints of the period, see Ranum, P (ed.) The Century of Louis XIV. (Harper, NYC). 1, 3, 16, 41, 51. Bonney, R (2007). ‘Vindication of the Fronde?’. French History. 21(2): 205–25; Kiser, E (220). ‘State Making and Revolt in Early Modern France’. American Sociological Review. 67(6): 889–910. 3 Riley, P (ed.) (1990). Bossuet: Politics Drawn from the Holy Scripture. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 81. 4 Bossuet, ibid. Book VI. Article II. Proposition 1. Also, Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 70–72. 5 Noted in Gooch, GP (1956). Louis XIV. (Longman, London). 4. 6 Ibid, 15. 7 See pages 332–334. 8 Parker, D (2003). ‘Absolutism, Feudalism and Property Rights in the France of Louis XIV’. Past and Present. 179:

60–96; Rowen, H (1961). ‘ L’Etat c’est a moi”: Louis XIV and the State’. French Historical Studies. 2(1): 83–98. 9 Louis, as quoted in Hatton, R (1972). Louis XIV and his World. (Putnam & Sons, London). 25. 10 Seaward, L (2017). ‘Censorship between Geneva and France in the Later Eighteenth Century’. The Library. 18(2): 191–217; Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, London). 23–25; Brown, G (2003). ‘Reconsidering the Censorship of Writers in Eighteenth Century France’. The Journal of Modern History. 75(2): 235–68; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 81, 92; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 48–52; Nussbaum, F (1953). The Triumph of Science and Reason, 1660–1685. (Harper, NYC). 72, 82–83. 11 The 1680 Regulations for the Paris Poorhouse are printed in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 461; Brown, H (1999). ‘Repression from the Croquants to the Commune’. The Historical Journal. 42(3): 597–622; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 52–53; Barker, E (1966). The Development of Public Services in Western Europe. (Archon, Connecticut). 66–73; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 30–31, 141. 12 Krieger, L (1970). Kings and Philosophers: 1689–1789. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 72–74; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 221. 13 Louis XV, as noted in Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 130. 14 The Toulouse Parlement, as in Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 314. Also, Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 154–58. 15 Louis XV, as in Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution, 1763–1789. (Harper, NYC). 24. See also Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 54; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 232. 16 See the ‘Lit de Justice, to Register the Edict of November 1770’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 24. 17 This note, ‘Louis XV to the Parlement of Paris. This is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Selected Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 54–55. Merrick, J (2008). ‘Louis XV’s Deathbed Apology’. European History Quarterly. 38(2): 205. 18 See Luckett, T (1997). ‘A Parisian Riot on the Eve of the Revolution’. Past and Present. 156: 116–43; Also, Hurt, J (2004). Louis XIV and the Parlements: The Assertion of Royal Authority. (Manchester University Press, Manchester). 76. 19 Montesquieu, Oeuvres Complete. (ed, Oster, D, Paris, 1964). 334. 20 Ibid, 586. 21 Brewer, D (2009). ‘Voltaire, War Correspondent at Large’. PMLA. 124(5): 1847–850; Williams, D (1994). Voltaire. Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 11, 28–29. 22 Iverson, J (2018). ‘Voltaire, Tolerance, Indifference and the Limits of Free Speech’. Studies in Eighteenth Century Culture. 47: 261–64; Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 326–28. 23 Voltaire, as in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 514. 24 Williams, D. (ed.) Voltaire: Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1994). 127. Also pp 7, 28, 35 and 195. 25 This is Voltaire’s Eighth Letter ‘On the Parliament’. It is reprinted in Leigh, J (ed.) Voltaire Philosophical Letters. (Hackett, Indianapolis). 23. See also Gidal, E (2003) ‘Civic Melancholy: English Gloom and French Enlightenment’ Eighteenth Century Studies. 37(1): 23–45. 26 Rousseau, as in Cress, D (ed.) Jean-Jacques Rousseau: The Basic Political Writings. (Hackett, NYC). 141. 27 Ibid, 70. 28 Ibid, 60. 29 Ibid, 33. 30 Ibid, 153 31 Ibid, 150. 32 Ibid, 162. 33 Ibid, 180.

34 Rousseau, as in Cress, D (ed.) Jean-Jacques Rousseau: The Basic Political Writings. (Hackett, NYC). 180, 198–99. Doughty, H (2014). ‘Rousseau and Representative Democracy Reconsidered’. The Innovation Journal. 19(1): 1–17; Kelly, C (1997). ‘Rousseau and the Case for Censorship’. The Journal of Politics. 59(4): 1232–251; Wade, I (1976). ‘Rousseau and Democracy’. The French Review. 49(6): 926–37. 35 Rousseau, as in Cress, D (ed.) Jean-Jacques Rousseau: The Basic Political Writings. (Hackett, NYC). 198. 36 Rousseau, as in Cranston, M (1986). Philosophers and Pamphleteers: Political Theorists of the Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford) 85. 37 Diderot, ‘Observations’ §1. In Mason, J (1982) The Irresistible Diderot. (Brown, London). 335. Also, Mason, J (ed.) Diderot. Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 202, 207; Levinson, M (2006). ‘Democracy Here is Necessarily Democracy There’. et Cetera. 63(2): 215–16. 38 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 58–61, 69, 72, 82–92, 332–33. 39 Diderot, as in Mason, J (ed.) Diderot: Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1992) 182. 40 Ibid, 189. 41 Diderot, as in Cranston, M (1986). Philosophers and Pamphleteers: Political Theorists of the Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford) 117. 42 Diderot, as in Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 315. 43 See Luckett, T (1997). ‘A Parisian Riot on the Eve of the Revolution’. Past and Present. 156: 116–43; Also, Hurt, J (2004). Louis XIV and the Parlements: The Assertion of Royal Authority. (Manchester University Press, Manchester). 76. 44 See also, Gruder, V (1984). ‘The Assembly of Notables in 1787 and the Pre-Revolution in France’. French Historical Studies. 13(3): 323–55; Goodwin, A (1946). ‘The Assembly of French Notables in 1787 and the Origins of the Revolt of the Nobles’. English Historical Review. 61: 202–34. 45 Louis, as noted in Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 319. 46 This quote is from Chretien-Francois de Lamoignon. It is reprinted in Roberts, J (ed.) French Revolution Documents. (Brown, London, 1966). I: 18. 47 The remonstrance from the Parlement of Paris, 11 April 1788, reprinted in Roberts, ibid, I: 24–25. 48 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 762, 772–79. 49 ‘Letter from the King for the Convocation of the Estates General at Versailles’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 50. 50 A good collection of these grievances (cahiers de doleances) can be found in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 15–38. 51 Mandelbaum, M (2016). ‘The Abbe Sieyes and the Nation State Problematique Revisited’. Philosophy & Social Criticism. 42(3): 246–66; Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 2–4. 52 Markoff, J (1988). ‘Nobility and Third Estate in the Spring of 1789’. American Sociological Review. 53(4): 477–89. 53 The ‘Declaration of the National Assembly, June 17th, 1789’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999) 58–59. 54 The ‘Tennis Court Oath, June 20th, 1789’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999) 61. Also, Robinson, J (1895). ‘The Tennis Court Oath’. Political Science Quarterly. 10(3): 460–74. 55 ‘Louis XVI at the Royal Sessions of the Estates General, June 23rd, 1789’. This is reprinted in Mason, ibid, 61, 63, 65. 56 Louis’s ‘Letter to the Nobility’. This is reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 50. 57 Schurer, N (2005). ‘The Storming of the Bastille’. Eighteenth Century Life. 29(1): 50–81. 58 Article 11 of the ‘Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen, August 26th, 1789’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 101. For the debate at the time, see Jennings, J (1992). ‘The Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen and its Critics in France’. The Historical Journal. 35(4): 839– 59.

59 See pages 363 to 366. 60 See pages 278 to 279. 61 See the ‘Decree on Feudalism’. This is reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 52. The decrees on women are on p 109; the death penalty at p 114; and the guilds at p 117. For the debate on the latter, see Fitzsimmons, M (1996). ‘The National Assembly and the Abolition of the Guilds in France’. The Historical Journal 39(1): 133–54. 62 See Garrioch, D (1999). ‘The Everyday Lives of Parisian Women and the October Days of 1789’. Social History 231–49; Garrett, C (1994). ‘The Myth of the Counter-revolution in 1789’. French Historical Studies. 18(3): 784. 63 Louis, as quoted in Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 26. 64 The ‘Declaration of the King Addressed to the French People, June 21, 1791’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 152–54. See also, Cavendish, R (2016). ‘Louis XVI’s Flight from Paris’. History Today. June. 8–9. 65 Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 35–37; Tackett, T (2003). ‘Collective Panics in the Early French Revolution, 1789–1791’. French History. June. 149–65. 66 These included the freedom to speak, write and print; freedom to assemble; and freedom to petition the authorities. The establishment of public assistance for the poor (and work for the able-bodied) as well as a system of public education emerged were also made clear. 67 The rules for the Legislative Assembly for every Frenchman, were that they had to be registered, over 25, and ‘active’ by working at least three days to vote for the lower assemblies; ten days’ wages for eligibility for the secondary assemblies, and finally, for eligibility for the national assembly, an active citizen had to pay a tax of 50 days’ wages. Those who were ‘passive’ did not get suffrage. 68 Arts 2 and 3 of Section I of Chapter II, of the ‘1791 Constitution’. This is reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 98, 106. 69 Art 2 of Section III of Chapter II, ibid. 70 ‘Louis Accepts the Constitution, September 13, 1791’. This is reprinted in Wright, ibid, 109, 110. 71 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 886–92. 72 See the Definitive Treaty Between Austria and the Netherlands. 49 CTS 369. Also, Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 373. 73 See the treaty of defensive alliance with France and Netherlands, 49 CTS 381. 74 Note, the following year, Prussia and Britain re-struck their defensive alliance. See their 1788 agreement, 50 CTS 353. 75 Popkin, J (1995). ‘Dutch Patriots, French Journalists and Declarations of Rights’. The Historical Journal. 38(3): 553–65; Price, M (1995). ‘The Dutch Affair and the Fall of the Ancien Regime, 1784–1787’. The Historical Journal. 38(4): 875–905; Te Brake, W (1985). ‘Popular Politics and the Dutch Patriot Revolution’. Theory and Society 14(2): 199–222; Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 81. 76 See the 1788 Defensive alliance between Netherlands and Prussia. 50 CTS 313. 77 This quote is from art IV of the 1788 Defensive Alliance between Britain and the United Provinces. It is in Colbert, W (1819). The Parliamentary History of Britain, 1798–1800 (Hansard, London). 27: 553–54. This is also in 50 CTS 305. 78 Polasky, J (1984). ‘Traditionalists, Democrats and Jacobins in Revolutionary Brussels’. Journal of Modern History. 56(2): 227–62. 79 See De Schryver, R (2000). ‘On Nine Declarations of Independence by the Belgian Provinces during the Brabant Revolution’. Dutch Crossing 24(2): 191–207. 80 See the 1790 Declarations between Austria and Prussia, 51 CTS 23. Also, 51 CTS 71. 81 Van den Bossche, G (2002). ‘Political Propaganda in the Brabant Revolution’. History of European Ideas. 28(3) 119– 44. 82 For the 1775 Convention between France and Austria, see 46 CTS 99; and 47 CTS 237. 83 Leopold, as noted in Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 21.

84 For the treaties linking France to the United States, see 46 CTS 417, and 46 CTS 447. 85 This quote is from art. 1 of the Definitive Treaty of Peace and Friendship between Britain and France, see 48 CTS 437. For the additional 1786 agreement on commerce and navigation, see 50 CTS 71, and for resolution of difficulties in 1787 over India, see 50 CTS 103. 86 Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 76. 87 Taylor, L (1996). ‘Food Riots Revisited’. The Journal of Social History. 30(2): 483–96; Charlesworth, A (1987). ‘Moral, Markets and the English Crowd in 1766’. Past and Present. 114: 200–13; Brunstein, W (1987). ‘The Geography of Rebellion: Rulers, Rebels and Regions, 1500 to 1700’. Theory and Society. 16(4): 467–95. 88 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 77, 97, 100, 116, 131, 311. 89 Duthille, R (2018). ‘The Right of Resistance in Richard Price and Joseph Priestley’. History of European Ideas. 44(4): 419–32; Guidi, M (2010). ‘Jeremy Bentham, the French Revolution and the Political Economy of Representation’. The European Journal of the History of Economic Thought. 17(4): 579–605; Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 290–95, 347–50; Schofield, P (2004). ‘Jeremy Bentham, the French Revolution and Political Radicalism’. History of European Ideas. 30(4): 381–401; Duthille, R (2012). ‘Richard Price on Patriotism and Universal Benevolence’. Enlightenment and Dissent. 28: 24–41; Tackett, T (2000). ‘Conspiracy Obsession in a Time of Revolution’. The American Historical Review. 105(3): 691–713; Conniff, J (1999). ‘Edmund Burke and his Critics: The Case of Mary Wollstonecraft’. Journal of the History of Ideas. 60(2): 299–318; Garrett, C (1973). ‘Joseph Priestley, the Millennium and the French Revolution’. Journal of the History of Ideas. 34(1): 51–66. 90 This quote is from section 131 of Burke’s Reflection on the Revolution in France. It is reprinted in Hampsher-Monk, I (ed.) The Political Philosophy of Edmund Burke. (Longman, London, 1987). 160. Also, Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 293. 91 Burke, (1790) Reflections on the Revolution in France (Penguin, London, 1968 edn). 171. Also, Selinger, W (2014). ‘Edmund Burke’s Reflection on the Revolution in France’. The Review of Politics. 76(1): 43–67; Hampsher, I (2005). ‘Edmund Burke’s Changing Justification for Intervention’. The Historical Journal. 48(1): 65–100; Gottschalk L (1956). ‘Reflections on Burke’s Reflections’. Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society. 100(5): 417–29. 92 For example, the British Prime Minister, William Pitt, would proclaim in a celebrated miscalculation that, ‘Unquestionably, there never was a time in the history of this country [France], when, from the situation of Europe, we might more reasonably expect fifteen years of peace than at the present moment’. Pitt, as in Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 291. 93 See Bell, D (2007). The First Total War: Napoleon’s Europe and the Birth of Modern Warfare (Bloomsbury, London). 2–3, 97; Griffith, P (1998). The Art of War of Revolutionary France: 1789–1902. (Greenhill, London). 23. 94 The ‘Principles of French Foreign Policy’, as reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 134. 95 The ‘Declaration of Pillnitz’, as reprinted in Wright ibid, 113. Also, CTS, Suppl, Vol 1, No 46. 96 Louis XVI to Frederick William II of Prussia, 3 December 1791. This is reprinted in Stewart, J (ed.) A Documentary Survey of the French Revolution. (Macmillan, London, 1951). 279. 97 Brissot, ‘On War’, as reprinted in Wright, ibid, 116–20. Note also Duong, K (2017). ‘Redemptive Violence in Jacobin Political Thought’. American Political Science Review. 111(4): 786–800. 98 See pages 363–366. 99 See the Treaty of Alliance between Austria and Prussia, 51 CTS 287. 100 See the Treaty of Navigation and Commerce between Russia and France, as at 50 CTS 213. 101 The Treaty of Defensive Alliance between Austria and Russia, as at 51 CTS 359. 102 The Treaty of Alliance between Russia and Prussia, as at 51 CTS 399. 103 See the 1791 Treaty of Amity and Union between Russia and Sweden 51 CTS 249. 104 Price, M (1999). ‘Secret Diplomacy and Counter-Revolution, 1791–1792’. The Historical Journal. 42(2): 435–66; Arnold, B (1972). ‘Gustav III of Sweden and the Enlightenment’. Eighteenth Century Studies. 6(1): 1–34. 105 The assassin of Gustavus, as in Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 311.

106 The ‘Declaration of War on Austria’, as reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 137 See also, Bell, D (2007). The First Total War: Napoleon’s Europe and the Birth of Modern Warfare (Bloomsbury, London). 111, 114–15, 118, 129; Best, G (1980). Humanity in Warfare. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 78. 107 The ‘Brunswick Manifesto’ as reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Selection Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 71–72. 108 Note, Cross, E (2011). ‘The Brunswick Manifesto and the Radiclisation of the French Revolution’. French History. 25(2): 188–213. 109 See Morse, S (1887). ‘The Defence of the Tuileries on August 10 1792’. The English Historical Review 2(6): 350– 57. 110 See the ‘Decree Suspending the King, August 10, 1792’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 172–73. 111 Note, Hopkin, D (2007). ‘Sieges, Seduction and Sacrifice in Revolutionary War: The Virgins of Verdun, 1792’. European History Quarterly. 37(4): 528–47. 112 Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 82–84, 92–115; Bosworth, M (2001). ‘Anatomy of a Massacre: Gender, Power and Punishment in Revolutionary Paris’. Violence Against Women. 7: 1101–121. 113 See Wise, J (2012). ‘La Marseillaise and the Birth of Melodrama’. Theatre Survey. 53(1): 29–57. 114 Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 64–70, 82–84; McConachy, B (2001). ‘The Roots of Artillery Doctrine’. The Journal of Military History. 65(3): 617–40. 115 Rothenberg, G (1980). The Age of Warfare in the Age of Napoleon. (Indiana University Press, Bloomington). 32–33, 100. 116 The Edict of Fraternity is reprinted in Hardman, J (ed.) French Revolution Documents. (Wiley, London, 1973). II: 389. Note, the Edict is from 19 November, after the actual invasion had begun. Also, Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press). 336–37. 117 This quote is from Robespierre’s ‘Declaration of Rights’ of 24 April 1793. It is reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 155, 158. 118 See Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 480, 482, 486. 119 Dumouriez, as noted in Bell, D (2007). The First Total War: Napoleon’s Europe and the Birth of Modern Warfare (Bloomsbury, London). 1. 120 Griffith, P (1998). The Art of War of Revolutionary France: 1789–1902. (Greenhill, London). 31, 54; Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 164. 121 Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 116. 122 ‘The Indictment of the King, December 11, 1792’. This is reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 146–48. 123 All of the quotes in this paragraph are from the indictment, ibid. 124 Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 140–48; Hardman, J (2000). Louis XVI: The Silent King. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 157–58. 125 George, as in Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 302. 126 See the 1785 Treaty on Definitive Boundaries between Spain and France, at 49 CTS 313; and also the 1790 Agreement between Britain and Spain, as in 51 CTS 67. 127 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 374–383, 401. 128 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 360, 375; Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, London). 230–31; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 154. 129 The Spanish, ‘Declaration of War on France’ is in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 171, 173.

130 See the Exchange of Notes Regarding Neutrality between Denmark and Britain, CTS Suppl. Vol 1, No 47. For overlapping guarantees with Russia, see Suppl. Vol 1, No 49. 131 The Exchange of Notes Regarding Neutrality between Sweden and Britain are in the CTS Supp. Vol 1, No 48. For overlapping guarantees with Russia, see Suppl. Vol 1, No 50. 132 For the agreements of the supply of troops for money in 1793, from Brunswick, see 51 CTS 479; Hesse-Cassel is at 52 CTS 7, that with Baden is at 52 CTS 129, and Hesse-Darmstadt at 52 CTS 157. 133 See the Defensive alliance Britain and the United Provinces, 1788, 50 CTS 305. 134 See the Agreement between Austria and Britain Regarding Military Obligations Against France, 52 CTS 107. 135 The 1793 Convention of Alliance between Britain and Prussia against France, 52 CTS 91. This updated their 1788 agreement in this area, see 50 CTS 353. 136 See the Treaty of Alliance between Britain and Sardinia, at 52 CTS 23. 137 For the 12 February 1793 Agreement between Spain and Britain, and the 11 January 1794 follow-up, see is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 174, 176. 138 Treaty of Alliance and Assistance between Britain and Portugal, 52 CTS 147. 139 The Convention of Alliance against France between Britain and the Two Sicilies. 52 CTS 77. 140 See the 1793 Convention for Concerted Action Against France between Britain and Russia, as in 52 CTS 1. This was updated in 1795, see 52 CTS 315. Note, however, with the death of Gustavus, as noted above, any hopes of a joint military alliance involving Russia sweeping down from the north of Europe, to restore order in France, evaporated. Accordingly, Tsarina Catherine busied herself with the growing discontent in Poland, fearing that if she did not act with force there, the ideology of the French Revolution would spread towards her. See Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 538–40. 141 Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 95–98; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 483. 142 The petition is quoted in Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 194. 143 Art 1 of the Decree ‘levee en masse’. This is reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 181. 144 Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 312; Rothenberg, G (1980). The Art of Warfare in the Age of Napoleon. (Indiana University Press, Bloomington). 34–36. 145 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 97; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 412–14. 146 The Decree on the Rupture with France, February 8th, 1793. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 423. 147 This language is from the Decree noted above. 148 This quote is from the Suspension of Habeas Corpus Act, 1794. This is in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 496. 149 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 350; Thomas, D (1969). A Long Time Burning: A History of Literary Censorship in England. (Praeger, NYC). 131–33, 142–43; Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 168–71. 150 Roberts, A (2014). Napoleon the Great. (Allen Lane, London). 51; Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 20–22. 151 Forest, A (2014). ‘The Insurgency of the Vendee’. Small Wars and Insurgencies. 25(4): 800–13; Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 210–15, 246–55; Brown, H (1997). ‘Moffett, C (1962). The Reign of Terror. (Ballantine, NYC). 80–95, 109–25. 152 ‘The Committee of Public Safety’. This is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Selection Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 75. 153 This quote is from art 1 of the ‘Declaration of Revolutionary Government’. It is reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The

French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 192. 154 Robespierre, ‘Report on the Principles of Political Morality’, as in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 254–57. 155 See the ‘Law of 22 Prairial Year II/June 10, 1794’. This is reprinted in Mason, ibid, 240–43. The laws on suspects; Women’s Clubs and Popular Societies and the price of bread are also all in Mason at 231, 232, 238. See also, Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 190–95. 156 H Kaiser, T (2003). ‘From the Austrian Committee of the Foreign Plot: Marie Antionette, Austrophobia and the Terror’. French Historical Studies. 26(4): 579–91; Gruder, V (2002). ‘The Question of Marie Antoinette: The Queen and Public Opinion Before the Revolution’. French History. 16(3): 269; Hardman, J (2000). Louis XVI: The Silent King. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 157–58; Price, M (1999). ‘Secret Diplomacy and Counter-Revolution, 1791–1792’. The Historical Journal. 42(2): 435–66. 157 Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 225; Moffett, C (1962). The Reign of Terror. (Ballantine, NYC). 125–32. 158 Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 199–202; Moffett, C (1962). The Reign of Terror. (Ballantine, NYC). 178–92. 159 The 1795 ‘Declaration of Rights and Duties of Citizens’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 288–91. Note the ‘Law Against Provocation’, as in Mason, ibid, 291. 160 Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 212–21. 161 For the 1794 treaties of subsidy with Hanover, see the CTS, Suppl Vol 1, No 51; and Brunswick, with 54 CTS 217. 162 See the 1794 Treaty of Subsidy between Britain, the Netherlands and Prussia, as at 52 CTS 199. 163 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London) 487. 164 Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 124–26, 137; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 486–88. 165 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 97. 166 The ‘Declaration of Verona’ is reprinted in Mason, ibid, 275–77. Others, such as the sympathetic Charles Alexandre de Calonne, would add soon after that, ‘the French Republic is, by its very constitution, an enemy to peace … a powerful democracy has never been pacific [peaceful]’. He argued that, until it was destroyed, war would be both incessant and brutal. See Calonne, C (1796) The Political State of Europe. This is reprinted in Aksu, E (ed.) Early Notions of Global Governance. (University of Wales Press, Cardiff). 80–84. 167 Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 25; Rothenberg, G (1980). The Art of Warfare in the Age of Napoleon. (Indiana University Press, Bloomington). 36–39. 168 See the 1795 Defensive Alliance between Austria and Britain, at 52 CTS 399 and 481. 169 See Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 189–92; North, J (2003). ‘General Hoche and Counter-Insurgency’. The Journal of Military History. 67(2): 529–40. 170 The 1795 Treaty of Peace between France and Prussia is in 52 CTS 333. 171 See pages 323–324. 172 Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 207–8. 173 See the 1795 Articles of Capitulation between France and the Netherlands, 52 CTS 305. 174 The Treaty of Peace between France and the United Provinces is in 52 CTS 399; and in 1798, 54 CTS 233. See also, Brandon, P (2016). ‘Local Autonomy and Radical Democracy in the Batavian Revolution’. Atlantic Studies. 13(3): 370–88; Palmer, R (1954). ‘The Dutch Revolution of 1795’. The Journal of Modern History. 26(1): 15–35. 175 This quote is from art. 1 of the Conclusive Peace Treaty between His Catholic Majesty and the French Republic. It is in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 175. It is also in 52 CTS 411. 176 The1795 Treaty of Peace between France and Hesse-Cassel, as at 52 CTS 447. See also Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 208. 177 See the 1795 Secret Treaty of Alliance between Sweden and France, as in 52 CTS 477. 178 Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 98–110, 128–30, 132–34;

Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 97–99. 179 The Secret Treaty between France and Hamburg is at 53 CTS 129. 180 For the armistice with Wurtemberg, see 53 CTS 213. The peace with Wurtemberg is 53 CTS 343. For Baden, the armistice is 53 CTS 225 and the peace is at 54 CTS 267. For Swabia, see 53 CTS 251. The point about neutrality is from the treaty of that purpose between France and Prussia, at 53 CTS 231. 181 The armistice with Bavaria is at 53 CTS 279. Rothenberg, G (1980). The Art of Warfare in the Age of Napoleon. (Indiana University Press, Bloomington). 39–41. 182 The Armistice between France and Sardinia, is at 53 CTS 81. The peace agreement is 53 CTS 99. 183 For the armistice with Parma, see 53 CTS 91, with Modena 53 CTS 95. The peace with Parma is 53 CTS 331. 184 The armistice with the Two Sicilies, as in 53 CTS 111, the peace agreement is at 53 CTS 295. 185 The armistice with the Pope, is at 54 CTS 125. 186 Roberts, A (2014). Napoleon the Great. (Allen Lane, London). 83–85, 89; Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 53. 187 See the Secret Convention between Genoa and France, as at 54 CTS 83. 188 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 99; Roberts, A (2014). Napoleon the Great. (Allen Lane, London). 90–99, 109–22; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 491, 492; Godechot, J (1970). The Napoleonic Era in Europe. (Holt, NYC). 30– 32. 189 The Treaty of Alliance between His Catholic Majesty and the French Republic. This is reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 178. 190 The Spanish Declaration of War Against England, as reprinted in Hargreaves, ibid, 180–81. 191 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 103; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 494, 495. 192 See the Treaty of Peace between France and Portugal, as in 54 CTS 147. 193 See the Treaty of Neutrality between France and Tuscany, 53 CTS 485. 194 See the Alliance between France and Sardinia, 54 CTS 49 and 261. 195 The Treaty between France and the Pope, as in 53 CTS 485. 196 Roberts, A (2014). Napoleon the Great. (Allen Lane, London). 128–31; Gilks, D (2013). ‘Attitudes to the Displacement of Cultural Property in the Wars of the French Revolution and Napoleon’. The Historical Journal. 56(1): 113– 43. 197 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 100; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 493. 198 The 1797 Treaty of Friendship between France and Venice is in 54 CTS 77. 199 Roberts, A (2014). Napoleon the Great. (Allen Lane, London). 140–42. 200 The 1797 Treaty of Peace between Austria and France, as in 54 CTS 157. 201 Art 8. 202 See the Treaty of Alliance and Commerce between the Cisalpine Republic and France, as in 54 CTS 269. 203 Art 6. 204 The Secret Articles of 17 October are reprinted in Axelrod, A. (ed.) Encyclopedia of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I: 170. 205 Burleigh, M (2005). Earthly Powers: The Clash of Religion and Politics in Europe. (Harper, London) 106–9. 206 For the 1776 Alliance between France and Swiss Confederation see 46 CTS 263. And with Basel, see 1780 47 CTS 321. 207 The 1798 Treaty of Peace and Offensive and Defensive Alliance between France and the Helvetic Republic, as in 54 CTS 271. See also, Lerner, M (2004). ‘The Helvetic Republic: An Ambivalent Reception of French Revolutionary Liberty’.

French History. 18(1): 50–75. 208 The Insurrection Act is reprinted in Curtis, E (ed.) Irish Historical Documents. (Methuen, London, 1943). 204. See also the ‘United Irishmen’s Plan of Parliamentary Reform’. This is in Curtis at p 237. For commentary, see McGarry, S (2013). Irish Brigades Abroad. (History Press, Dublin). 178; Kleinman, S (2014). ‘Initiating Insurgencies Abroad: French Plans for Britain and Ireland, 1793–1798’. Small Wars and Insurgencies. 25(4): 784–99. 209 See pages 352–353. 210 See Hill, J (2001). ‘Convergence and Conflict in Eighteenth Century Ireland’. The Historical Journal. 44(4): 1039– 63. 211 The ‘Organisation of the United Irishmen’ is in Curtis, E (ed.) Irish Historical Documents. (Methuen, London, 1943). 238. 212 McGarry, S (2013). Irish Brigades Abroad. (History Press, Dublin). 166–70; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 350. 213 George, as in Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 344. 214 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 87. McGarry, S (2013). Irish Brigades Abroad. (History Press, Dublin). 184–88; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 496; Garnham, N (2006). ‘Protestant Mentalities in Eighteenth Century Ireland’. The Historical Journal. 49(2): 403–23. 215 This quote is from art. 1 of the Act of Union with Ireland. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 497, 498. 216 See the ‘Proclamation to the French People’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 296, 297. The ‘Decree on the Closure of All Political Clubs’ is also in Mason, at 294. 217 The treaty of Commerce and Navigation between France and Egypt. 49 CTS 207. 218 The Decree of the French Directory Instructing Napoleon to Launch the Egyptian Campaign. This is reprinted in Hurewitz, J (ed.) Diplomacy in the Near and Middle East: A Documentary Record. (Nostrand, New Jersey). I: 61. 219 The Decree, ibid. 220 Ibid. 221 Napoleon’s, ‘Proclamation to the Army of Egypt, 1798’. This is in Butterfield, H (ed.) Selection Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 77. See also Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 66–67, 74– 75, 87. The figures are in Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 106. 222 Napoleon’s Proclamation to the Egyptians. This is reprinted in Hurewitz, ibid, I: 63. 223 See the Convention between France and the Order of Malta for its Surrender. As in 53 CTS 259. Also, Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 96. 224 Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 338–39; Ward, A (1922). The Cambridge History of British Foreign Policy. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). I: 285. 225 See the Accord between France and Alexandria, as in 54 CTS 267. 226 Napoleon, as in Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 229. 227 Dellinger, J (1998). ‘The Battle of the Pyramids’. Military History 15(3): 66–71; Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 117–21. 228 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 497–98; Rothenberg, G (1980). The Art of Warfare in the Age of Napoleon. (Indiana University Press, Bloomington). 41–42. 229 The Ottoman Declaration of War, as reprinted in Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 396. Also, Black, A (2011). The History of Islamic Political Thought. (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh). 274–75. 230 These quotes are in Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 149. 231 Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 149–51. 232 The Treaty of Defensive Alliance between Austria and the Two Sicilies, as in 54 CTS 245 and 252.

233 Ward, A (1922). The Cambridge History of British Foreign Policy. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). I: 288–89. 234 The Treaty of Alliance between Russia and the Two Sicilies as in 54 CTS 325. 235 Ibid, 333. 236 Preamble of the Treaty between the King of Two Sicilies and Britain, as in Colbert, W (1819). The Parliamentary History of Britain, 1798–1800 (Hansard, London). 34: 1178. 237 Ibid, art 1. 238 Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 170–72; Robertson, J (2000). ‘Enlightenment and Revolution, Naples 1799’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 10: 17–44; Grew, R (1999). ‘Finding Social Capital: The French Revolution in Italy’. Journal of Interdisciplinary History. 29(3): 516–26. 239 Preamble of the Anglo-Russian Alliance, as in Colbert, W (1819). The Parliamentary History of Britain, 1798–1800 (London). 34: 1168. See also the version in 54 CTS 379. 240 Ward, A (1922). The Cambridge History of British Foreign Policy. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). I: 289–91. 241 Marshall, J (2018). ‘Christianity, Judaism and Islam’. Intellectual History Review 28(1): 167–84; Fatih, Z (2012). ‘Peering into the Mosque: Enlightenment Views of Islam’. The French Review. 85(6): 1070–82; Matthee, R (2010). ‘Europe’s Enlightenment Image of Early Modern Iran’. Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East. 30(3): 450–60; Joubin, R (2000). ‘Islam and Arabs Through the Eyes of the Encylcopdie’. International Journal Middle East Studies 32(2): 197–217. 242 The treaty of Defensive Alliance between Russia and Turkey, 54 CTS 349, 491 and 503. 243 See the 1799 Defensive Alliance between Britain and the Ottoman Empire. This is reprinted in Hurewitz, J (ed.) Diplomacy in the Near and Middle East: A Documentary Record. (Nostrand, New Jersey). I: 65. 244 The 1799 Treaty of Alliance with Sicily, as reprinted in the Foreign Office, ibid, 601. Also in 54 CTS 405. 245 Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 216–21, 284–86. 246 See the Treaty of Alliance between Bavaria and Russia, 55 CTS 87. 247 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 108. 248 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 503. 249 Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 285–87. 250 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 104–6, 108; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 500, 502; Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 158–59, 161, 163–66. 251 Napoleon, ‘Proclamation to the French Nation’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999) 334, 336. 252 Schom, A (1997). Napoleon Bonaparte. (Harper, NYC). 198–99. 253 Ibid, 199. 254 Ibid, 182–85. 255 Godechot, J (1970). The Napoleonic Era in Europe. (Holt, NYC). 33–35.

IX Slavery 1.

S





Introduction

periods of 1650 and 1800, remained a very common practice in Muslim

LAVERY, BETWEEN THE

and Asian parts of the world.1 However, this chapter is only concerned with a third area, namely in the colonies of the Western world, where slavery grew rapidly between 1650 to 1800. This growth was built upon the practices that were deeply rooted before 1650. The difference to the past was the scale of the trade. Although the African suppliers remained largely the same, the European traders began to compete for position, while the purchasers grew quickly as the benefits of slaves over other forms of bonded labour began to make the commodity rich colonies generate exceptional amounts of wealth. Although the institution of slavery was growing quickly, warfare, as a justification to end slavery should have been the easiest case to defend in the period of this book. This ease is because slavery was the absolute antithesis of any ideals of equality, liberty and freedom – the centrifuge that the Enlightenment spun around from the middle of the eighteenth century. Despite this glaring obvious truth, the history of the period shows few examples of slaves taking matters into their own hands, with Haiti being the exemplar, as the only instance where the cause of war, was their freedom from slavery. The point to note is that this action was domestic. These people were not freed by the actions of others. Even the foremost revolutions of the period, that of America, distinctly looked the other way to avoid the full length of what equality should look like; while that of the French, came only to end slavery, begrudgingly.

2.

Numbers and Impact

Within the European context, although slavery was rare in the region, the closely related serfdom2 was common, while slavery proper became increasingly common in a number of the European colonies. This chapter focuses primarily upon this latter category, namely, slaves brought from elsewhere for service in the colonies of Europe. The exact number of slaves who were brought against their will from Africa to the New World, for the period of this book between 1650 and 1800 is probably in the region of about

6 to 7 million. Perhaps one-sixth of this trade occurred before 1700. During the course of the eighteenth century, these numbers continued to expand. By the end of the eighteenth century, the numbers were believed to be close to 75,000 to 80,000 per year, people being transported, without their consent to permanent servitude overseas. The difference between the beginning and end of this period was that although the price of slaves dropped as the decades progressed, demand remained strong, as a wider diversity of sectors could afford the cheaper prices allowing them to purchase another human being for unlimited work.3 The vast majority of slaves came from Africa. Within this continent, the number of slaves who were captured but died before being taken to the ports for international exchange is unknown. Assuming the person made it as far as being placed onto a ship, the next challenge they faced was surviving the voyage. Mortality rates during the trip from Africa to the New World depended on which country was doing the shipping and the standards that were imposed. During the eighteenth century, the French had a mortality rate of around 13 per cent per voyage, the Dutch about 17 per cent, while the British started at about 9 per cent (when the space allotted to each slave on the Atlantic crossing measured 5½ feet in length and 16 inches in breadth), but pulled it back to about 3 to 5 per cent by the end of the century, as the space was slightly expanded and medical conditions on board improved. The conditions were improved for both humane and economic considerations. That is, while the Board of Directors instructed the East India Company agents when engaged in the slave trade to treat such people ‘humanely’ pointing out that ‘they are men’,4 they were also aware that dead or damaged slaves also equated to lost profits.5 Once the slave reached their destination, the impact of the bondage upon the individual depended on their age, sex and where they were situated. It was reported in 1682 that a slave who had been imported and lived longer than seven years in Brazil had lived a long time, as opposed to a slave born in the area, who had an average life span of 23 years. Conversely, slaves in north America tended to live for 12 years longer. Such life spans were often dictated by supply and demand, in that it was often considered economically cheaper to buy new slaves, rather than try to improve the conditions of existing slaves for longevity. Work periods of 18 hours per day, extreme labouring conditions and lack of adequate food all contributed to heavy mortality rates, as did the ecology (and disease), nutrition and the social conditions and laws the slaves laboured under Manumission (through self purchase of charity) was ten times higher in Spanish and Portuguese colonies, than it was in the British ones.6

3.

Supply

In terms of supply, within Africa, from the strong monarchies of the Ashanti, through to the small democracies of the Ibo, most were attracted to the economic and military benefits of trading with Europeans or Muslims, of which slaves were often the primary commodity of exchange. With regard to the Europeans, the smaller ports gave way to the larger slave ports of west Africa, namely Whydah, Senegal, the Gambia and the Gold Coast. About two-thirds

of the total exported slaves that went to the New World from Africa left from these ports. The debates within Africa were about controls over areas, monopolies, price and supply chains, and occasionally why the various tribes were warring each other. They were not over the ethics of the slave trade, unless it was a Muslim tribe which had enslaved other Muslims. The situation, as described by John Barbot in 1680 was: The three European forts have but little authority over the Blacks, and serve only to secure the trade, the Blacks here being of a temper not to suffer anything to be imposed on them by Europeans, which if they should but attempt, it would prove their own ruin.7

What this meant, in practice, in the second half of the seventeenth century, was that European intervention into sub-Saharan Africa, beyond the coastal regions, was very rare. The exception in this period was with the Portuguese and the Congo (where the Europeans got involved in succession disputes that ended up in massive battles in the mid-1660s), and at the southern end of the Continent. The Dutch settled in 1652, naming it Cape Town. This was not an area empty of humans and the Dutch began to clash with the local nomadic Khoikhoi of the south-west region, and later the Xhosa (related to the Bantu). These clashes, typically about encroachment of grazing areas, cattle rustling, expansion into new areas, and nonobservance of existing agreed boundaries were recorded in 1659, 1673 and 1674.8 Outside the Dutch and Portuguese examples, the Europeans rarely left the coastal areas or far beyond the shores of the great rivers of Africa. It was only towards the end of the eighteenth century that the new and more powerful European countries began to make greater claims to sovereignty, or rights, within parts of sub-Saharan Africa, as occurred with the French and Madagascar in 17759 and then the British and Sierra Leone in 1788.10 By the stage that the French and British were starting to make claims (and controls) on African territory, the slave trade for western colonies was moving into its last few decades of existence. This meant that the for the vast majority of this trade, it was primarily African collectors and African traders who collected the slaves and brought them to the predesignated areas under African control, to sell to the Europeans, in what was a brisk competition for both supply and demand. Although not all slaves collected were produced by war (with some being taken for violation of their own domestic laws), many were captured as prisoners and then sold. This was often reinforced via a strong trade in muskets and gunpowder from multiple European sources exporting tens of thousands of firearms to West Africa, per year, towards the end of the eighteenth century. Although alcohol and fine clothing were also possible, it was the firearms where the trade was strongest. In turn, firearms exchanged for slaves helped to fuel conflicts which were of benefit to the slavers and also to the collection of more slaves for sale.11

4.

Traders

In the middle of the seventeenth century, it was the Dutch who had the majority share of the African slave trade. In the last decades of the seventeenth century, the Dutch dominance was

passed by that of England, Portugal and France. During the eighteenth century, the British are believed to have traded 2,532,300 slaves, the Portuguese 1,796,300 and the French 1,180,300. The Dutch shipped 351,000 slaves over this time period, the colonies in America 194,000 and the Danes, 73,900. The English rose to the forefront of this trade, in part, due to the strong support the Crown gave them. This began with the 1660 Company of Royal Adventurers Trading to Africa, being the forerunner to the formation of the Royal African Company of 1672. This latter body, established by the English king, Charles II, made it lawful for this particular company, to the exclusion of all others, to, inter alia, ‘take and seize … negroes, slaves …’. The company was also given, ‘full power to make and declare war with any of the heathen nations that are … within the said parts of Africa’.12 Although the British transported the greatest number of Africans to the New World in this period it is useful to note that because Portugal started trading much earlier, they ultimately carried more slaves than any other nation. With regards to destination, the Portuguese colony of Brazil, received the majority of the slaves (31 per cent) during the eighteenth century. The French Caribbean (22 per cent), Spanish America about 9.6 per cent, and the Dutch Caribbean with 7.6 per cent. Finally of note, the English Caribbean took 23 per cent of the total and English colonies in America took 6 per cent. Of the latter, by 1650, most, if not all, had some slaves in them. In 1664 New York/New Amsterdam, slaves who were estimated to have been 20 per cent of the population. These numbers were a subset of the estimated 20,000 slaves who were introduced into the North American colonies in the seventeenth century. With the English island colonies, between 1640 and 1700, some 263,000 slaves would be imported, with about half going to Barbados alone.13 The only time the pump of slavery slowed was in periods of warfare. The other area of notable change was that in England, from 1698 the Royal Africa Company lost its monopoly. The other change was the rewards of some of these conflicts (in particular, the Nine Years War) involved Britain winning in 1713 the right (the ‘Assiento’) to collect and sell (4,800) slaves to the Spanish colonies each year. The British held this Assiento until 1750, at which point they sold it back to the Spanish. The collective result was that by the end of the eighteenth century, it was Britain which was the largest slave trader (holding about 50 per cent of the market), followed by France (25 per cent). They were followed by the Portuguese, Spanish and Dutch.14

5.

Indentured Labour

North America was built on cheap, and bonded, labour. The first wave of this labour was from all over Europe was indentured servants. These people (made up of, inter alia, the poor, the disposed, convicts and even prisoners of war), arrived in the colonies in America, just after the turn of the seventeenth century. Between this beginning and the time of the American Revolution, somewhere between one-half and two-thirds of the European immigrants who went to north America or the Caribbean arrived as indentured servants. These people worked for between four to seven years in exchange for the cost of their passage from Europe. Indentured servants were not slaves, as although the service they had

to be perform could be harsh and long, the tenure had an end date. In addition, the bonded person still had the majority of civil rights that the other citizens had.15 Once in the New World, although they would have their food and accommodation covered, the indentured servants were obliged to work without wages for the period of their contract. To ensure the terms were met, laws such as 1661 Master and Servant Act of Barbados were created to deal with the, ‘unruliness, obstinacy and refractioness of the servants’. The solution was law which allowed for a, ‘continual strict course’ of correction. This same law also mentioned ‘negroes’ who were described as ‘heathenish’, ‘brutish’ and a ‘dangerous kind of people’ who had to be watched carefully at all times.16 Unlike the Spanish and Portuguese (who had a deeper history in the slave trade to the New World from 1560 onwards to Spanish Florida) and later the French and the Dutch who also followed suit, the first slaves who arrived in these English colonies were more likely to be considered as indentured servants than slaves, with the first recorded sale of black slaves in this area is believed to have been in Jamestown, Virginia, in 1619. This approach was adopted because although indentured labour was acceptable, slavery, as an ideal, was not acceptable to many of the people who had fled Europe to escape, in part, the traditions of oppression and privilege that reigned there. This feeling was such that by the middle of the seventeenth century, Puritan magistrates in Massachusetts condemned their own members involved in the slave trade, while in 1652 Rhode Island passed a law condemning the practice of enslaving black people for life and ordered that any slaves within the colony had to be made free after a term of ten years, in a manner consistent with indentured servants.17 The flip, from indentured labour to slavery was caused, in part, by the realisation of the economic possibilities that slave labour offered in the new commodity rich (sugar, coffee, tobacco, molasses and rum) lands, but labour intense, areas. The possibilities here overlapped with the economic cost of each slave compared to indentured servants, who had legal limits on what could be expected of them, and time limits for how long they could be bonded. In addition, indentured servants tended not to be as young and fit as the slaves brought from Africa. These economic benefits were supplemented, or disguised, with a new range of justifications, building on the older arguments of religion and practice in war, through to some such peoples from Africa, being ‘suited’ to such bonded conditions. Accordingly, by 1670 as the flow of indentured servants started to decline, the flow of slaves started to increase into the New World, in relation to which slavery laws began to appear on the books of most of the colonies.18

6.

The Laws of Slavery

In the case of England, the expansion of slavery overlapped with the Restoration and the back-tracking from many of the radical ideas during and after the English Civil War. This turnaround from debates around equality overlapped with early English judicial consideration of the matter, which concluded that as the slaves were infidels, they could be taken, made into property, and exchanged like any other commodities such as farm animals. The only

objections to slavery were from some groups who represented white workers, who feared that the influx of slaves would do them out of work and push them into poverty.19 Although the English Crown had started to legislate, generically, in this area from 1664 for the regulation of slaves on the plantations, the laws that applied at the ground level were generated from each colony in which slaveholding was an emerging practice. For example, in 1661, the Virginia Assembly extended statutory recognition to slavery of both African and Native Americans, and in the following year it ruled that all children born to slave mothers would also be slaves. They followed up a few years later (in 1667) with legislation that ruled, ‘the conferring of baptism does not alter the condition of the person as to his bondage or freedom’.20 The same law added that masters who killed their slaves while punishing them could not be found guilty of murder. A supplement to this added that thirty lashes on the back was appropriate, ‘if the … slave shall presume to lift up his hand in opposition to any Christian’.21 At the end of the same decade, the 1669 Fundamental Constitution of the Carolinas ruled that, ‘Every freeman of Carolina shall have absolute power and authority over Negro slaves of whatever opinion or religion’.22 Later laws from Virginia (in 1691) made it lawful for slave owners to kill any slaves who had attempted to escape.23 The French work on laws of slavery began after 1648, when Louis XIII specifically sanctioned slaves being taken from Africa, provided efforts were made to introduce them to Christianity. Despite this approval, it was not until 1685, with the Code Noir, that slavery was made part of the law of France, with direct applicability to its colonies. This law, which was used as a model by the Dutch and Spanish, was reissued by the French in the middle of the eighteenth century, formed the core from which all legal discourse around slavery in the French colonies proceeded.24 At its centre, the Code Noir sought to uphold the institution of slavery but tried to modify some of the more inhumane aspects of it, while helping justify its continuation by the provision of some benefits to the slaves. This was most evident with the second article of the code which obliged masters to have the slaves instructed in the Catholic (and only Catholic) religion or face heavy penalties for non-compliance. Other benefits included slaves not having to work on Sunday or any religious holidays. Their owners were also obliged to give them a certain amount of food each week. The owner was also obliged to look after them when they were sick or old. In terms of controls, slave masters had to consent to the marriage of their slaves; slaves were prohibited from any form of civil capacity; and although torture was prohibited, they could be killed if they struck the master (or his family). If they tried to escape they faced harsh penalties. Thus: A slave who has been in hiding for a month … will have his ears cut off and be branded with the fleur-de-lis [a symbol of the King of France] on his shoulder. For recidivism for another month … he will be hamstrung and branded on the other shoulder with the fleur-de-lis. For the third time, he will be condemned to death.25

The Spanish did not question their right to enslave infidels. As the Council of the Indies explained to the Spanish King Charles II in 1685, such a practice was necessary, because: [I]f a prohibition were issued to discontinue bringing them, the food needed for the support of the whole kingdom would cease to be produced; the landed properties … would be lost, and America would face absolute ruin.26

For the Spanish, to enslave someone and also introduce them to the Catholic faith was a good thing (and legally mandated for anyone owning slaves). Like the French, the Spanish also tried to implement some policies designed to reduce cruelty and control aspects of the worst types of work slaves could be made to do, such as in mines. In addition, they ensured that as the indigenous peoples in their colonies were now citizens of the Spanish empire, they could not be enslaved. The Spanish laws prohibited the branding of slaves, set down requirements for food, and floggings of more than 25 blows were prohibited.27

7.

Slave Revolts in the Second Half of the Seventeenth Century

In the period between 1650 to 1700, although slave rebellions in the English colonies were unknown, they were beginning to appear in some of the other slave-owning areas. For example, Brazil had to deal with runaway slaves throughout the seventeenth century, which in the north-east of the country became so problematic that a Portuguese military mission of 6,000 men had to be called in to crush the independent area made up of escaped slaves of Palmares, which fell after a 42-day siege. The fact that there were not more slave revolts in this period was due to the limited number of slaves in some areas, linguistic, cultural and social differences amongst the enslaved populations, and the sheer limits on what was possible to achieve. That is, at best, they could escape into the hinterland, with any hopes of return to Africa being hopelessly forlorn. Finally, the suppression and control over slave populations was always tight, with large numbers of enforcers, especially ex-slaves, being brought in to ensure that restlessness or revolt did not occur.28 The alternative to staging a revolt against the slave owners on land was to stage an uprising on the vessels transporting them to the New World. Of this threat, there were over 300 documented revolts on slave ships, and probably many more which were never recorded. These uprisings, like those on land, nearly always ended in disaster (unless done very close to the coast of Africa), as even if the slaves could gain control of the ship, they could not safely steer it. Only in one recorded instance was a vessel seized, and by keeping alive two of the crew members, was it turned around and sailed back to Sierra Leone, where it was run aground.29

8.

Dissent against Slavery

The only intellectual heavyweight who spoke most clearly against slavery in the second half of the seventeenth century was Thomas Hobbes. He repeatedly insisted that slaves, uniquely among the populace, maintained an unlimited right of resistance by force.30 All the other heavyweights (eg, Spinoza and Leibniz) preferred to avoid the topic. Others focused on the established legality of slavery, such as Samuel Rachel in 1676, who concluded that although inter-Christian slavery between Europeans was a thing of the past, in other instances,

masters, ‘have had the power of life and death over their slaves’.31 Four years later, in 1680, Johann Textor would agree that although inter-Christian slavery had passed: The ancient usage of enslaving is clearly not yet obsolete in the wars of the Turks and other barbarians. For they reduce men of our side whom they capture into rigorous slavery; and in return the prisoners whom we take are reckoned to be in the same condition.32

Some, like Samuel Pufendorf in 1682, did not try to dismiss the institution, preferring to recommend humanity in the treatment of slaves, reminding his readers that ‘humanity bids us never forget that a slave is a man’.33 This approach, where the institution of slavery was not condemned, but efforts were recommended to soften its blow, also appeared with some theologians, such as (the Anglican) Morgan Godwyn arguing in 1680 that the best help that could be given to the enslaved was their induction into Christianity. Even the great John Locke had difficulty in this area, caught in his own contradiction. This began with the opening lines of his Two Treatises on Government which condemned slavery, as: [S]o vile and miserable an Estate of Man, and so directly opposite to the generous temper and courage of our nation; that ‘tis hardly to be conceived, that an Englishman, much less a Gentleman, should plead for it.34

The problem for Locke was that he failed the standard he set for both gentlemen and Englishmen and ignored his own words. Although he seems to have tried to make some gestures of disapproval of slavery, on the whole, his own investments and administrative supervision of England’s burgeoning colonial activities, including over slavery, do not suggest serious dissent.35 This was not an unusual position, as to the minds of many, despite the vulgar nature of slavery, the many of the colonies that were highly dependent on the lucrative commodities simply could not survive without a strong supply of bonded labour. It was such bonded labour which many of the colonists in places such as Virginia argued was the key ingredient which made their colony viable. Even colonies such as Georgia, which at its outset in 1733 professed noble ideals about the non-importation of slaves, found themselves quietly pushing their principles to the side.36 This conundrum meant that even great libertarians like William Penn and the Quakers, despite their loud calls for of equality and fair play, turned the other way when confronted with problems of labour shortage in their own areas. This difficulty ran so deep that when Penn first proposed that slaves in Pennsylvania be freed after a certain period of bondage, the Pennsylvania Assembly (mostly Quakers) rejected the idea. The authorities in Pennsylvania only tip-toed into this area in 1712, at which point they agreed to tax slaves coming into the area in the future. In fact, the only area where the importation of slaves was stopped in the New World was in 1736, in Spanish Florida. This halt was due to the anger of white workers in the region, who were upset at losing their work to slaves. It was not due to the inhumanity of the trade.37 In the first half of the seventeenth century, few questioned the idea that slavery was legal in international law, and where international law did touch on the topic of slavery, it was about the trade therein (such as with the Assiento)38 or cooperation between states to return

slaves who attempted to escape and find sanctuary in other countries.39 Beneath such practices, few of the great legal minds of the period questioned the practice, and even considered it could still be applied in some instances to white people. For example, Christian Wolff agreed that prisoners of war who committed offences (such as being involved in an unjust war) could be reduced to slavery.40 Emer de Vattel broadly concurred that slavery was permissible for prisoners of war, but only if they were guilty of serious crimes.41 Only the Dutch jurist, Cornelius van Bynkershoek took a more enlightened view of the situation in 1737. Although he recognised the right to enslave people as a result of war, he suggested that, ‘the so-called Barbary peoples of Africa’ were not pirates and could not be classified as at war with Europeans. Hence their status as slaves was dubious.42 In terms of domestic laws within Europe, the big question was that although slavery was legal in their colonies was it permissible in the domestic jurisdictions of the home countries? The French answered this clearly in 1716 and 1738, when they concluded that if slaves (who were not, at this point, defined by colour) were brought into France for specific training, they remained slaves until they were exited (which they had to be, within three years). An additional law of 1777 required all people with black skin in France to be registered, with a view to sending them to the colonies. In Britain, the law was more ambiguous but less racist. Here, after five decades of legal uncertainty from the beginning of the eighteenth century, slavery in England and Scotland was found to be not legal. Blackstone summed up the situation clearly in 1765 when he noted that: [T]he spirit of liberty is so implanted in our constitution, and rooted in our very soil, that a slaver or a negro, the moment he lands in England falls under the protection of the laws and becomes eo instanto a freeman.43

Thus, although a person may have been a slave in a colony, as soon as that person stepped on to the actual soil of Britain, they became a free person. Within this period of the emerging Enlightenment, while the majority continued to defend slavery, slowly, a counter-wave of dissent began to emerge. Of note, the Abbe Prevost published in 1735, one of the first abolitionist documents appearing in French literature. From this point, in the minds of the great philosophers of the age, the question of slavery became increasingly difficult to ignore, although many of the most notable thinkers of this period preferred to reconcile, rather than condemn, the trade. For example, in 1748, Montesquieu, while concluding that the state of slavery was, in its own nature, bad (for both the slave and master, as it reduced virtue) split his views to suggest that in some instances slavery could be good. While he argued this was not the case for some people (Europeans) as these people ‘need liberty’, the same was not necessarily the case for peoples of other lands, and in fact, slavery may reduce violence between them. Nonetheless, Montesquieu did suggest that under moderate governments, slavery would be nothing like it was then emerging in the New World. He suggested that in an ideal world, the pool of slaves would be greatly reduced in size, that decision makers would ensure that all slaves were properly fed and clothed, and the enslaved would have a right of appeal against ill-treatment.44 Voltaire, despite some clearly racist views, also attacked the practice of slavery, with the

tools of compassion and revulsion. However, he accepted that slavery was the price of cheap commodities from the New World. Thus: In truth, we don’t have the natural right to go and capture a citizen of Angola, take him off and beat him into working in our sugar plantations … we have the right by convention … I say that the negro who sells himself is a fool, and that the negro father who sells his piccaninny is a barbarian, but that I am a very sensible man to buy that negro and make him work on my sugar plantation.45

David Hume, despite being known for his views on intolerance and prejudice, harboured a belief of racial superiority (as did Immanuel Kant). Nonetheless, Hume sought to stop the expansion of slavery, criticising it for its ancient, feudal or foreign incarnations. Adam Smith, in the Wealth of Nations, added his voice against the practice of slavery, explaining that aside its moral problems, it was also a poor choice in economic terms, as it was an unprofitable and unproductive form of labour compared to free labour.46

9.

Slave Revolts up to 1765

After the year 1700, as the philosophers were musing the merits of slavery, the slaves increasingly began to try to resolve matters for themselves. There were slave riots in New York in 1712 which were brought under control with nearly 200 slaves arrested, interrogated, and then 30 executed. A few decades later, in 1739, there was another uprising in New York (with about a dozen deaths) and in the same year, near Charleston, South Carolina further unrest broke out. This occurred because as war had broken out between Britain and Spain, Spain had promised liberty to slaves in the Carolinas who could escape to the Spanish colonies. None made the escape, but at least 30 were captured and executed for their attempt at freedom.47 Outside North America, in Jamaica in 1718, due to the problem of slaves escaping and causing difficulties, the British agreed to employ, ‘50 able men … [to] … go into the woods, to pursue and destroy the rebellious negroes lurking in the mountains’. These men were armed, paid, and then promised, ‘all the liberty that any of the subjects on this island now have’48 at the end of their six-month tour. Such expeditions did not solve the difficulty of escaping slaves, to which between 1725 and 1739, a further 600 slaves or so escaped and survived, in freedom, in inaccessible parts of the island. These slaves battled the authorities until a truce was agreed. This agreement, the Leeward Treaty of 1 March 1739, gave all of those who had risen up against the authorities, and fought for at least two years, ‘a perfect state of freedom and liberty’.49 In exchange for this freedom, those who were awarded it had to agree to help hunt down and return the other slaves who had fled from their masters within the previous two years. The Dutch colony of Suriname also experienced outbreaks of intermittent violence with escaped slaves, from 1728 until 1799. Meanwhile, on the island of Saint John (in today’s Virgin Islands) in 1733, 1,087 slaves killed every European (208) except a handful who escaped, before the island was retaken by the Danish authorities. All of those associated with the uprising were executed. A few years later in Antigua in 1736, when it was discovered by

the authorities that a group of slaves were planning a rebellion, beginning by blowing up the colonists at their annual grand ball, 77 slaves were taken and burnt to death.50 In 1751 on Saint Dominique, the slave Francois Macandal escaped into the mountains. This man tried to organise a resistance, calling for the extinction of all white people on the island. His efforts resulted in a conflict in which some 6,000 people, white and black, were killed before Macandal was captured and executed. Nine years later, in 1760 on Jamaica, a slave leader known as Tacky sparked another uprising, which resulted in 60 whites and 400 slaves being killed or committing suicide (rather than being captured). Some 500 more were recaptured and transported to penal servitude. Then, in 1766, another uprising occurred at Palmares in north-east Brazil. This time, the revolt lead by Pedro Preto (also known as Black Peter) involved only dozens of deaths before the leader was hunted down and killed.51

10.

The American Revolution

The American Declaration of Independence of 4 July 1776 contains the timeless words that, ‘all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness’.52 The problem was that this Declaration was only intended to cover all white men. The option of encompassing all people (and condemning slavery), despite being drafted by Thomas Jefferson, was not politically palatable. Accordingly, Jefferson, like nine other presidents of the United States, including George Washington who were all slave owners, drove their new republic forward, based on a freedom for all of those who were not slaves.53 This situation, of a tight, exclusionary, circle being drawn around the idea of equality occurred because of strategic, not ethical, reasons. That is, it was obvious in an ethical sense from the outset of the American revolution that the calls of ‘liberty’ should apply equally to all people, including slaves. Some of the parts of the rebellion (like Vermont, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania and Connecticut) recognised this early and were willing to end slavery in total or in part. For example, the 1780 Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery in Pennsylvania stated, inter alia: Be it enacted … that slavery of children in consequence of the slavery of their mothers, in the case of all children born within this State … shall be … utterly taken away, extinguished and forever abolished.54

However, other colonies (such as Virginia, Georgia and South Carolina, which contained the majority of the slaves in North America at that point), were extremely resistant to any type of such thinking. This meant that from the strategic point of view, rebel leaders did not pursue the abolition of slavery at the federal level as that could have provoked such southern colonies, to swing towards union with the British and not commit their loyalty to the rebel colonies.55 This fear, of how the southern colonies would respond over questions involving slaves, meant that both the British and the rebels treaded cautiously in this area. For the Americans, it meant that although some states assembled some forces with former slaves in them, and

Congress accepted such troops in 1777 (due to manpower shortages), there was no federal approach on this question. Moreover, when it was proposed that some 3,000 slaves be released from the southern colonies (and their owners compensated) to serve in the rebel forces, both Georgia and South Carolina strongly objected to the principle. These two areas would have preferred to remain under British rule, rather than start freeing their slaves. Accordingly, such emancipation to help win the war did not occur.56 For the British, the problem was that if they made an offer of freedom to the slaves in the American colonies, the slaves in the Caribbean would expect the same terms. However, they could not deny the impact of what a mass movement of slaves, away from the slave-owners, would do to the enemy. Accordingly, in an effort to win the war (but not actually effect social change), in early November of 1775, it was proclaimed: I do hereby … declare all indented servants, Negroes or others (appertaining to the Rebels) free, that are able and willing to bear arms, they joining His Majesty’s Troops as soon as may be, for the more speedily reducing this Colony to a proper sense of their duty to His Majesty’s crown and dignity.57

This offer not only infuriated the slave owners, it also created a deluge of slaves (with perhaps 80,000 slaves going missing in the chaos) with some 5,000 or so slaves walking behind the British forces as they marched around the countryside. By the time the English had to evacuate their few remaining American possessions, they were uncertain of what to do with these people. Although some joined the British forces, or made their way to other British colonies, many of them, found themselves re-enslaved, and sent to the Caribbean. This matter became even more troublesome with the peace treaty between the two sides. The difficulty was that as the British had taken many of the ex-slaves with them, had allowed them to go where they pleased, or taken them to the Caribbean and re-enslaved them. To this situation the Americans immediately demanded their return. When the British refused, the Americans demanded compensation for their lost ‘property’, to which the British, four decades after the conflict, eventually complied.58 Following the end of the war with the British, further attempts to restrict the spread of slavery in the new areas were also difficult. In 1784, the Continental Congress came within one vote of passing Jefferson’s bill that purported to exclude slavery from the entire transAppalachian territory. However, the Northwest Ordinance of 1787 did exclude (in theory) the entry of slaves into the western territory, north of the Ohio river. Despite such efforts, two new regions, Kentucky and Tennessee, were mapped out, and built on the rapid expansion of slavery. The country then started to divide between the pro- and anti-slave trading states. For example, in 1792, South Carolina resumed the Atlantic slave trade, to which the importation and sale of African slaves would continue unabated until the next century (the Federal government would not outlaw the trade until 1808). In 1793, the Fugitive Slave Act was passed and signed by President George Washington. This made it a crime to assist escaped slaves, and gave rise to a slave-catching industry, as this federal law, guaranteed a right for a slaveholder to recover an escaped slave. Conversely, in 1799, New York passed its emancipation law.59 At the same time as the Americans were working out how to deal with the slave question domestically, from 1791 onwards, they also had to work out if they supported the slave

rebellion in Haiti or not, as both a principled war in itself, or as part of wider geo-political considerations with their reconciliation with Britain, and almost war, with the revolutionary French Republic. The approach was, initially, one of being sympathetic with the French planters, but as the American relationship with revolutionary France soured, they began to start aiding the black rebels. This support was not because they were slaves fighting for their freedom, but because for a period, they shared the same enemy.60

11.

The Abolitionist Movement in Britain

The movement in Britain for the complete abolition of slavery – not its improved regulation – began with the work of the lawyer, Granville Sharp in the mid-1760s. In 1772, Sharp brought an action in the British courts against a master who had recaptured a runaway slave (named Somerset) he had brought in from the colonies but the slave had subsequently escaped and claimed freedom. After long debate, the court found that: The law of England is not applicable to the slavery of our American colonies, or of other countries … The introduction of such slavery is not permitted by the law of England … There is now no slavery which be lawful in England, until the legislature shall interpose its authority to make it so.61

This decision, which was tightly applied to the person in question, did not lead to the automatic freedom for the hundreds of other slaves that had managed to be brought into England, let alone the hundreds of thousands of slaves in the colonies. Nonetheless, the decision did spark strong public debate over the ethics of slavery. This debate found fertile ground in the religious thinking of the period with both the Methodists (and the evangelical John Wesley) in the 1770s and the (English) Quakers in the early 1780s. The campaign then grew with surprising speed in the second half of the 1780s, sprouting in a number of directions, focusing on, inter alia, the repugnance of the idea that one human could own another; the inhumanity of the trade and the poor economics of the practice.62 The result of all the concern was an unprecedented consumer boycott (more than 300,000 Britons refused to eat slave-grown sugar) and Parliament being flooded with more signatures on abolition petitions that it had ever received on any other subject. The result was the passing of the Slave Trade Act of 1788. This was not easy to achieve, as the support for slavery remained strong, and ranged from King George III through to Edmund Burke, who argued that, ‘the cause of humanity would be far more benefited by the continuance of the trade and servitude, regulated and reformed, than the total destruction of both or either’.63 This type of thinking meant that the British parliament, at this point, did not want to prohibit the slave trade, but rather, regulate some of its worst parts. In this instance, the focus was upon controlling the over-crowding on the slave trading boats, as done by placing a numerical limit of slaves that could be carried on different sizes of vessel.64 For the following four years, the opposing sides in the slavery debate battled in the media, seeking to influence public opinion. By the time the matter was ready to be engaged with again in Parliament in 1792, Westminster was full, with 519 petitions – five times more than the number of petitions in 1788 – on the topic of slavery. At the exact same time that

this was occurring, the Danes, in March 1792, signed a new decree which sought to move Denmark out of the slave trade over the following decade. A month later, in April 1792, William Wilberforce, at the forefront of the abolition campaign, succeeded in getting a bill through the Commons that the slave trade ought to be gradually abolished. However, the Prime Minister would not prioritise the legislation as a governmental priority, thus dooming it to fail in the House of Lords, where the slave-trading interests were much stronger. This meant that Britain would not bring an abolition to all slavery interests within Britain until 1807, and all colonial areas under its control until 1833.65

12.

The French Revolution

As the Americans were trying to reconcile themselves to the contradiction between all people being born equal while holding hundreds of thousands in slavery; and the British were moving towards the abolition of the slave trade through their parliamentary process, the revolutions in France and their colony of Saint Dominique exploded. The background to this debate was a rise in much clearer calls for abolition from with the French intelligentsia. Denis Diderot and other contributing authors in the Encyclopedie, forcefully denounced slavery, in the decades leading up to the French Revolution. Some even went so far as to argue that the violence of slaves against their masters was legitimate.66 Others, such as the Marquis de Condorcet argued, in 1781, that any discussions around human equality were a complete nonsense, if slavery was still accepted as an institution. Jean-Jacques Rousseau struck hardest on this point. He argued that wars were between nations, not individuals and that once completed the victor did not have the right to enslave the losers, as that would only cause further wars. Thus: [F]rom every point of view, the right of slavery is null, not simply because it is illegitimate, but because it is absurd and meaningless. These words, slavery and right, are contradictory. They are mutually exclusive.67

With such a background, the Societe des Amis des Noirs, was founded in France 1788. This began to lobby on the topic, seeking progress, similar to what was occurring in Britain. These discussions were then swept up in the much-greater revolutionary debate of the period, to which on 27 August 1789, the French National Assembly adopted the Declaration of the Rights of Man. This began, ‘All men are born free and remain free and equal in rights.’68 While this language had an obvious understanding in Paris, few at the time of the drafting wondered what its implications would be in the French colonies in the West Indies, such as Saint Dominique (later Haiti), Martinique, Guadeloupe, Tobago, Saint Lucie and Saint Martin – all of where slavery was both legal, large and tied to immense colonial wealth. For example, Saint Dominique – the western third of Hispaniola which the French had acquired in the 1697 Treaty of Ryswick69 – produced half of the world’s coffee, and more sugar than Jamaica, Cuba and Brazil combined. This remarkable output was due to the fact there were about 40,000 white people, 28,000 free blacks and mulattoes (people of mixed ethnicities) and about 450,000 slaves (which was about half of all the slaves in the Caribbean at the

time). The records of the time suggest these slaves were overworked, underfed and cruelly punished for the lightest of infractions.70 The examination of the contradiction of proclaiming that all men were born free, remain free and equal in rights – and allowing slavery – was looked at by the National Assembly over the last months of 1789 and into 1790. Although the Societe des Amis des Noirs tried to influence this debate, their voice was not as strong as that of their counterparts in London. Rather, in early revolutionary France, the voice of those defending slavery and the slave trade dominated, arguing that, ‘the abolition of slavery and the slave trade would mean the loss of our colonies … [and] … Five million Frenchmen exist only by the trade they bring’.71 This dominance in the debate meant that on 8 March 1790, the National Assembly, despite some dissent, sanctioned the slave trade and slavery and did not even ask that the conditions of the slaves be investigated or that plans for an eventual end to the trade be considered. Rather, they made note that the colonists (and their property) who lobbied hard about the risks if liberty was extended too far, were along with their property, under the special safeguard of the nation.72

13.

Saint Dominique/Haiti

Haiti is the only country, ever, in which slaves achieved and maintained their personal freedom by physical force and went on to establish an independent country. The human cost for this process which took a little over a decade, was that by 1804, about 400,000 lives had been lost (of about 50,000 European troops, and 350,000 Haitians, including about 19,000 of the white settlers, with at least an equal number fleeing).73 Although the National Assembly did not initially seek emancipation of slaves, it was challenged at the end of 1789 over whether mulattoes, who were free, were equal citizens akin to free white citizens.74 Their initial response, on 23 March 1790, was that although slaves were not given the franchise, citizenship was not restricted by colour. This meant, in principle, that any male – irrespective of colour – who was over the age of 25 and had property or two years’ residency, could vote. This recognition greatly infuriated many of the free white population in Saint Dominique who wanted to keep people of colour in an inferior position, irrespective of whether they were free or not. Keeping non-whites in on inferior position would not be possible if all free people were allowed to vote, as the free blacks and the mulattoes at least equalled the number of free whites. When the free white citizens then attempted to prevent an equal status, the first revolt – in October of 1790 – occurred. This uprising was put down by 1,500 militiamen, in which 250 rebels were killed. The National Assembly in Paris responded to this by asserting that, ‘free men of colour, born of a free father and mother, will be admitted into all future colonial assemblies, if they possess the required qualities’.75 However, when it feared that this decree was inflaming the demands of slaves for freedom, it was rescinded, thus giving fuel to both the free and the unfree nonwhites.

14.

The Revolt

Legend has it that the plans for the slave revolt on Haiti began to crystalise in August of 1791. Originally, most of the slave demands were modest (to reduce their slavery to four days per week and have the capacity to own their own gardens) and not revolutionary. That is, at the beginning, the leaders of the slaves were not talking about universal emancipation. The turn in this thinking, according to legend, occurred at a gathering of some 30 to 40 slaves which was led by Dutty Bourkman. At this meeting a pledge that was pronounced by a Vodou priestess Cecile Fatiman. This stated: The good Lord who created the sun which gives us light from above, who rouses the sea and makes the thunder roar – listen well, all of you – this God hidden in the cloud, watches us. He sees all the white man does … But this God who is so good orders our revenge! He will direct our hands, he will aid us. Throw away the image of the God of the whites who thirsts for our tears and listen to the voice of liberty which speaks in the hearts of all of us.76

On 22 August, the rebellion of some 50,000 (and soon to be 100,000) slaves erupted. Meanwhile, in the western part of the colony, some 30,000 mulattoes and free blacks also rebelled, under the leadership of a man named Andre Rigaud. To these two revolts, the 40,000 whites found themselves threatened on all sides. Over the following 18 months, 1,080 properties were destroyed and 2,000 of their number killed, as well as 10,000 blacks. At a blow, the prosperity of Saint Dominique was destroyed. The bloodshed only came to a pause, when a peace agreement was reached between the (white) authorities on Saint Dominique and the ‘free coloured’ who were now, given the equal rights of franchise that they fought for (as demanded by the French National Assembly). However, this peace unravelled with a few months, to which by the end of the year, a complicated three-way struggle (whites, freecoloured, and slaves) was occurring.77 Initially, the French could not give too much attention to Saint Dominique, as by late April 1792 they were at war with Prussia and Austria, and then in August, the insurrection occurred in which the French monarchy began to come to an end, with the new National Convention of the Republic, coming into force. The New Convention then agreed to the creation of new local authority for Saint Dominique and called for them to continue to work in a situation that was undoubtedly complicated, as the debates were not only about slavery, but also, about those who were for, or against, the monarchy or the revolution. The result was that the rebel forces divided between those who were loyal to the French monarchy and those who supported the revolutionary forces, with each side believing the chances for emancipation were better with one side or the other. The matter became even more complicated when in the year of 1793, France declared war against Britain, to which the British were very quick to respond, aiming for the French possessions in the Caribbean. After they had conquered Martinique (by the end of March) the French deployed some 5,000 men, to Saint Dominique. This was just in time as the British, in September 1793, landed a large force from Jamaica, while the Spanish began to push from the western side of the border, while also offering all the existing insurgent slaves who rose up (not the slaves who were still in bondage), ‘freedom, exemptions, favours and privileges’78 like the free men possessed in Spain, if they now turned to fight the French. The

Spanish also made similar promises to the planters, to get them to swap sides, with assurances that their property would be protected, and that the slaves already in their possession, would remain so. It was in this situation of high risk that the French portion of Saint Dominique could be lost that the new Jacobin Commissioner (Sonthonax) in Saint Dominique grasped the opportunity to forge an alliance with the forces of the black insurgency. He did this with his Emancipation Decree of 29 August 1793. With this, the Declaration of Rights was to be posted everywhere, to which it was added, ‘All Negroes and people of mixed blood currently enslaved are declared free and will enjoy all rights pertaining to French citizenship.’79 Although there were some rules with the phasing in of this decree (the new citizens could not just walk away from the plantations), this was a radical step. With such actions, one of the most notable of all the black generals, Toussaint Louverture, who had a few days earlier (on 25 August) appealed to all slaves ‘join me and you will enjoy the rights of freemen sooner than any other way’,80 began to issue similar appeals and to distance himself from the Spanish, who until recently, had appeared as the best offer. Now, hearing what the French offered, he told his supporters: I want liberty and equality to reign throughout Saint Dominique. I am working towards that end. Come and join me, brothers, and combat by our side for the same cause.81

In early 1794, three deputies (a black, a mulatto and a white) arrived in Paris to represent Saint Dominique. Their task was to persuade the National Convention to decree freedom for all slaves in the French colonies. The Saint Dominique delegation was rapturously received and its proposal passed by acclamation. Accordingly, on 4 February 1794, the National Assembly declared: [S]lavery abolished in all the colonies. In consequence it declares that all men, without distinction of colour, domiciled in the colonies, are French citizens and enjoy all of the rights assured under the Constitution.82

This new declaration, coupled with the orientation of Louverture, had the desired result. Saint Dominique turned into a bloody quagmire. The Spanish made peace with France in 1795 and ceded the eastern two-thirds of the island, in exchange for benefits elsewhere, in their peace deal.83 The British, however, continued to fight in this part of the world and would lose over 15,000 men before peace was made. At the same point, the British had to start to put down slave uprisings which sparked throughout the British colonies in the Caribbean, as slaves now flocked to the French flag (which had promised emancipation) as opposed to the British flag (which had not). The result for the British was that slaves, former slaves and indigenous locals expelled the British from Guadeloupe and Saint Lucia, while racial warfare raged in Grenada. London feared that Jamaica, also, could explode in violence. Saint Vincent, also, experienced an uprising in 1795, to which the British had to land 4,000 troops to restore order. After blood was spilt and the revolt supported and some 5,080 of the former slaves were shipped to Honduras, where half of them died of the plague within five months. Spanish Venezuela also experienced an uprising in 1795, when 300 slaves tried (but failed) to spark a

rebellion.84 By the time that peace was made between France and Britain, Saint Dominique was both a ruin and a large graveyard. Louverture sought to regain the economic foundations for what had been, only a few years earlier, an economic powerhouse. To do this, from 1799 he moved to prevent any attempts at independence by the mulattoes, and in 1800, he started to introduce forced labour laws which were, to the locals, reminiscent of the slavery that they had fought against.85 He faced a rebellion the following year of thousands of small-scale producers (following his proposals to force them into farming for larger-sized enterprises), especially mulattoes and black sympathisers. Those in revolt were captured and then executed. Louverture then led about 7,500 men into the former Spanish side of Hispaniola, easily occupying that space, and thus the entire island, by early 1801. He concluded the process with the 1801 Constitution of Saint Dominique, which was unveiled on 4 July. After explaining in its first article that Saint Dominique was part of the French Empire, it went on to elaborate in its third article: There exist no slaves in this territory, where servitude is forever abolished, and all men are born, live and die, free and French.86

The British and American governments indicated in 1801 at the Peace of Amiens that they would be happy to see Napoleon restore the old order in the French Caribbean. With this in mind, Napoleon, with a desire to regain the economic wealth that Saint Dominique had generated in the past, plotted to regain Saint Dominique, which was, on paper, still a French colony. Due to the revolt that Louverture had been subduing, under the pretext of helping to restore order to the colony, in 1801, Napoleon dispatched 43,000 soldiers, one of the largest invasion forces to sail from Europe to the New World. The following year, he sent another 20,000.87 Although Napoleon promised freedom88 for the peoples in Saint Dominique, conflict with the forces of Louverture broke out. This was relatively easy to conclude, with Louverture accepting a peace offer under which he withdrew from public life and went to cultivate his plantations. However, fearing he may spark another revolt, the French authorities had him kidnapped and shipped to France where he was imprisoned, and died on 7 April 1803. By this stage, the law changed in France on 20 May 1802, revoking the abolition of slavery in all French colonies. The result was that the slave trade was reintroduced as legal until the French government was able to confer with the English and other governments, ‘for a common accord to suppress the slave trade’.89 In this situation, even though Saint Dominique had not been explicitly mentioned, a fullscale rebellion against French rule broke out. By the time the French surrendered their last bastion on 28 November 1803, despite being there for less than two years, about 45,000 French soldiers (and 10,000 sailors) had died, as well as about 80,000 (if not more) of their opponents. The matter was then concluded on 1 January 1804, when Saint Dominque changed its name to Haiti, and proclaimed its independence. In so doing, it was explained, ‘we must ensure the reign of liberty in the land where it was born … we must live

independently or die’.90

15.

Conclusion

Between the periods of 1650 and 1800 the practice of slavery remained the norm, not the exception, with this norm growing exponentially in the colonies of the western world. In terms of demand and supply, the difference to the past was the scale of the trade. Although the African suppliers remained largely the same, the European traders began to compete for position, while the purchasers grew quickly as the benefits of slaves over other forms of bonded labour began to make the commodity rich colonies generate exceptional amounts of wealth. Although some rudimentary laws did come to exist in the forms of slave codes and transporting requirements, the protections to other humans who were doomed to a lifetime of near unrestricted servitude, were negligible. Although the institution of slavery was growing quickly, warfare, as a justification to halt unending involuntary servitude should have become common. This should have happened because slavery was the absolute antithesis of any ideals of equality, liberty and freedom – the ideas which intoxicated the second half of the eighteenth century. Despite the common sense of this proposition, most of the scholars of the period found it difficult to conclude that slavery was an abomination. Rather, most tended to see benefits in the practice, and if anything, call for its regulation, not its prohibition. Or, it could be prohibited in the home countries, but not in their colonies. Despite this obvious problem, the history of the period only shows few examples of where slaves took matters into their own hands, in which conflict was justified to gain their freedom. Although there were a dozen or so slave revolts in this period, only one, that of Haiti/Saint Dominique managed to endure. The point to note here is not only that the actions were relatively rare, but more, that the actions were only done domestically with self-help. These people were not freed by the actions of others. Even the foremost revolutions of the period, like that of America looked the other way to avoid the obvious truth of what equality should look like and managed to live with a glaring contraction at the heart of their liberty. In all the places undergoing enlightenment at the end of the eighteenth century although the abolitionist movements would begin the find their voices turning these words into freedom was a difficult process. This was especially so when considerations of slavery became caught up in the overlapping conflicts of the period, in which ideologies and loyalties became very fluid. Thus, the French Revolution decision makers only brought slavery to an end begrudgingly, then, when Napoleon was in power, the clock looked ready to go backwards. The result for the exemplar of Haiti, was that after another bloody war, freedom could only be maintained by full independence and a future distanced from the Europeans who appeared reluctant, to be giving up their right to own other human beings.

1 For this period see Clarence-Smith, W (2006) Islam and the Abolition of Slavery. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 92–93. 2 See pages 315–319. 3 Davis, D (2006). Inhuman Bondage. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 93, 115–17; Deveau, J (1997). ‘Slave Trading in the Eighteenth Century’. Diogenes. 45(3): 49–74; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 55. 4 This quote from 1717 is in Abulafia, D (2019). The Boundless Sea: A Human History of the Oceans. (Allen Lane, London). 762. 5 Blackburn, R (1998). The Making of New World Slavery. (Verso, NYC). 250–55, 258, 269, 392. 6 Peabody, S (ed.) Slavery, Freedom and the Law in the Atlantic World: A Brief History with Documents. (St Martins, Boston, 2007). 136. 7 Barbot, as noted in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 394. Also, Blackburn, R (1998). The Making of New World Slavery. (Verso, NYC). 285, 326–28, 385. 8 Meredith, M (2014). The Fortunes of Africa. (Simon, NYC). 129–41; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 363. 9 See the 1775 French Acquisition of Sovereignty over Madagascar, as at 46 CTS 47. 10 See the 1788 Treaty between Britain and the Chiefs of Sierra Leone. 50 CTS 359. 11 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 243, 247. 12 The Charter of the Royal African Company is reprinted in Worger, W (ed.) Africa and the West: A Documentary History. (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2010). I: 34–35. 13 Davis, D (2006). Inhuman Bondage. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 93. 14 See The 1716 Convention Explaining Certain Articles of the Contract for Negroes, as reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce Between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). 179. 15 Donoghue, J (2013). ‘Indentured Servitude in the 17th Century English Atlantic: A Brief Survey of the Literature’. History Compass 11(10): 893–902; Tomlins, C (2001). ‘Reconsidering Indentures Servitude: European Migration and the Early American Labour Force, 1600–1775’. Labor History. 41(1): 5–43. 16 This legislation is quoted in Blackburn, R (1998). The Making of New World Slavery. (Verso, NYC). 250–51, 283. 17 Meltzer, M (1993). Slavery: A World History. (Da Capo, NYC). 141. 18 Peabody, S (2004). ‘Missionaries and Racial Discourse in Seventeenth Century French Antilles’. Journal of Social History 38(1): 113–26; Vink, M (2003). ‘Dutch Slavery and the Slave Trade in the Seventeenth Century’. Journal of World History. 14(2) 131–77; Davies, K (1999). The Royal African Company (Routledge, London). 41, 106, 205. 19 Davis, D. (2006). Inhuman Bondage. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 124, 126, 127. 20 This is quoted in Catterall, H (1926). Judicial Cases Concerning American Slavery and the Negro. (Washington DC) 312. 21 This quote is from Morgan, E (1975). American Slavery, American Freedom. (Brown, NYC). 331. 22 This quote is in Wright, D (1990). African Americans in the Colonial Era. (Illinois, Arlington Heights). 63. 23 See Donoghue, J (2010). ‘The English Revolution and the Atlantic Origins of Abolition’. The American Historical Review. 115(4): 943–74; Paley, R (2010). ‘Parliament and Slavery, 1660–1710’. Slavery and Abolition. 31(2): 257–81. For the various practices, see Rivera, L. (1992). A Violent Evangelism. (John Knox Press, Kentucky). 105, 107. 24 See Wood, L (2014). ‘Law and Slavery in French Saint Dominique and Beyond’. Law and Social Inquiry. 39(3): 758–82. 25 See The ‘Code Noir’ is reprinted in Peabody, S (ed.) Slavery, Freedom and the Law in the Atlantic World: A Brief History with Documents. (St Martins, Boston, 2007). 31. The Spanish Codes are in the same volume at 106–10. 26 The Council of the Indies, ‘Answers to the Questions from the King of Spain Concerning the Introduction of Slaves

into Spanish America’. This is reprinted in Worger, W (ed.) Africa and the West: A Documentary History. (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2010). I: 41, 42. 27 Blackburn, R (1998). The Making of New World Slavery. (Verso, NYC). 499–500. 28 Meltzer, M (1993). Slavery: A World History. (Da Capo, NYC). 85–86. 29 Warren, L (2013). ‘Insurrection at Sea: Violence, the Slave Trade and the Rhetoric of Abolition’. Atlantic Studies. 10(2): 197–210. 30 Luban, D (2018). ‘Hobbesian Slavery’. Political Theory. 46(5): 726–48. 31 Rachel, S (1676). The Law of Nature and of Nations. (trans, Bate, J, Baltimore Press, 1916). 187. 32 Textor, JW (1680). Synopsis of the Law of Nations. (ed, Scott, J, Clarendon. Oxford, 1916). 193, 33 Pufendorf, S (1682). On the Duty of Man & Citizen According to Natural Law. (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1927). 101–02. 34 Locke, J Two Treatises of Government. (ed, Laslett, P, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1960). 159. 35 Brewer, H (2017). ‘Reconsidering John Locke and the Origins of American Slavery’. The American Historical Review. 122(4): 1038–78; Farr, J (2008). ‘Locke, Natural Law and New World Slavery’. Political Theory 36(4): 495–515. 36 Davis, D (2006). Inhuman Bondage. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 89–90; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 573; Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 241. 37 Block, K (2010). ‘Property, Industry and Slavery in Early Quaker Migration to the New World’. Early American Studies. 8(3): 515–48; Roberts, P (1939). The Quest for Security, 1715–40. (Harper, NYC). 99. 38 See page 83. 39 See, for example, the Convention between Spain and Denmark, 1767. This is reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 105. 40 Wolff, C (1764). The Law of Nations According to Scientific Method. (Clarendon, Oxford, 1934). 421. 41 Vattel, E (1758). The Law of Nations or the Principles of Natural Law. (Carnegie Institute, 1916). 286. 42 Bynkershoek, C (1737). Quaestionum Juris Publici Libri Duo. (Clarendon, Oxford, 1930). 28, 99–100. 43 Blackstone, W (1765). Commentaries on the Laws of England. (Oxford, Clarendon). 23. 44 Schaub, D (2005). ‘Montesquieu on Slavery’. Perspectives on Political Science. 34(2): 70–78; Cranston, M (1986). Philosophers and Pamphleteers: Political Theorists of the Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford) 28–30. 45 Williams, D (ed.) (1994). Voltaire: Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 135. Also, Kjorholt, I (2012). ‘Cosmopolitans, Slaves and the Global Market in Voltaire’s Candide’ Eighteenth Century Fiction. 25(1): 61–84; 46 Watkins, M (2013). ‘Understanding Hume’s Attack on Slavery’. Hume Studies 39(1): 103–21; Kleingeld, P (2007). ‘Kant’s Second Thoughts on Race’. The Philosophical Quarterly. 57(229): 573–92; Immerwahr, J (1992). ‘Hume’s Revised Racism’. Journal of the History of Ideas. 53(3): 481–86; Salter, J (1996). ‘Adam Smith on Slavery’. History of Economic Ideas. 4(1): 225–51. 47 Davis, D (2006). Inhuman Bondage. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 140. 48 See the Convention between Britain and Mosquito, 31 CTS 233. 49 The Leeward Treaty of 1 March 1739. This is reprinted in Peabody, S (ed.) Slavery, Freedom and the Law in the Atlantic World: A Brief History with Documents. (St Martins, Boston, 2007). 65. 50 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 66, 118–19, 138–39. 51 Jones, C (2007). ‘Enslaved Youth, Agency and Resistance on an Eighteenth-Century Jamaican Estate’. The History of the Family. 12(2): 92–103. 52 The Declaration of Independence is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 100–02. 53 Tewell, J (2012). ‘Jefferson’s Declaration and the Conflict Over Slavery’. Civil War History. 58(1): 75; Morgan, K

(2000). ‘George Washington and the Problem of Slavery’. Journal of American Studies 34(2): 279–301; Boulton, A (1995). ‘The American Paradox: Jeffersonian Equality and Racial Science’. American Quarterly. 47(3): 467. 54 The Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery, is reprinted in Peabody, S (ed.) Slavery, Freedom and the Law in the Atlantic World: A Brief History with Documents. (St Martins, Boston, 2007). 74, 75. 55 Sandy, L (2014). ‘Plantation Overseers and Slavery during the American Revolution’. Journal of American Studies. 48(2): 357–92. 56 Frey, S (1983). ‘Slavery and Freedom: Virginia Blacks in the American Revolution’. The Journal of Southern History. 49(3): 375–98. 57 This proclamation, from Lord Dunmore, is reprinted in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 504. 58 Davis, D (2006). Inhuman Bondage. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 124, 145–47, 150, 152. 59 See Sebok, A (1991). ‘Judging the Fugitive Slave Acts’. The Yale Law Journal. 100(6): 183. 60 Scherr, A (2013). ‘The Diplomacy of US Weapons Traffic with Saint Dominique Under Adams and Jefferson’. The International History Review. 35(3): 600–48; Reinstein, R (2013). ‘The Haitian Revolution and American Constitutionalism’. The American Journal of Legal History. 53(2): 141–237; Hickey, D (1982). ‘America’s Response to the Slave Revolt in Haiti, 1791–1806’. Journal of the Early Republic 2(4). 361–79. 61 This quote from the Somerset case is reprinted in Peabody, S (ed.) Slavery, Freedom and the Law in the Atlantic World: A Brief History with Documents. (St Martins, Boston, 2007). 72. 62 Hochschild, A (2005). Bury the Chains: The British Struggle to Abolish Slavery. (Pan, London). 23, 75, 89–92, 195, 233–38. 63 Cited in Blackburn, R (1988). The Overthrow of Colonial Slavery. (Verso, London). 148. See also, Collins, G (2019). ‘Edmund Burke on Slavery and the Slave Trade’. Slavery and Abolition. 1–28; Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 333. 64 Perry, A (2012). ‘A Traffic in Numbers: The Ethics, Effects and Affect of Mortality Statistics in the British Abolition Debates’. Journal for Early Modern Cultural Studies. 12(4): 78–104; Bass, J (1989). ‘The British Slave Trade Debates, 1791–1792’. Quarterly Journal of Speech. 75(2): 152–65; LoGerfo, J (1973). ‘The Passage of the Slave Trade Regulation Act of 1788’. Eighteenth Century Studies. 6(4): 431–51. 65 Drescher, S (2007). ‘Public Opinion and Parliament in the Abolition of the Slave Trade’. Parliamentary History. 26(1): 42–65; Walvin, J (2007). ‘The Slave Trade and British Abolition, 1787–1807’. Historian. 93: 12–18; Oldfield, J (1992). ‘The London Committee and Mobilisation of Public Opinion Against the Slave Trade’. The Historical Journal. 35(2): 331–43. 66 Diderot, as in Mason, J (ed.) Diderot: Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1992) 187–188. 67 Rousseau, as in Cress, D (ed.) Jean-Jacques Rousseau: The Basic Political Writings. (Hackett, NYC). 146; Also, Chisick, H (2016) ‘On the Margins of the Enlightenment: Blacks and Jews’. The European Legacy, 21(2): 127–44; Hunting, C (1978). ‘The Philosophes and Black Slavery: 1748–1765’. Journal of the History of Ideas. 39(3): 405–18; Cook, M (1936). ‘Jean-Jacques Rousseau and the Negro’. The Journal of Negro History. 21(3): 294–303. 68 Resnick, D (1972). ‘The Societe des Amis des Noirs and the Abolition of Slavery’. French Historical Studies 7(4): 558–69. 69 See pages 64–66 also, see the 1777 treaty between France and Spain, dividing San Domingo. 46 CTS 277 and 303. 70 See the report on ‘Plantation Slaves’, as reprinted in Geggus, D (ed.) The Haitian Revolution: A Documentary History (Hackett, Indianapolis, 2014). 7–10; Meltzer, M (1993). Slavery: A World History. (Da Capo, NYC). 117. 71 Speech to the National Assembly, as quoted in Quibbey, V (1970). ‘Decisions on Slavery, the Slave Trade and Civil Rights for Negroes in the Early French Revolution’. The Journal of Negro History. 55(2): 117, 124. 72 Blackburn, R (1991). ‘Anti-Slavery and the French Revolution’. History Today. 41(11): 19, 21; Quibbey, V (1970). ‘Decisions on Slavery, the Slave Trade and Civil Rights for Negroes in the Early French Revolution’. The Journal of Negro History. 55(2): 117, 126, 130; Garnett, M (1921). The French Colonial Question. 1789–1791. (Ann Arbor, Michigan). 50– 53. 73 White, M (2011). Atrocitology: Humanity’s 100 Deadliest Achievements. (Text, Melbourne). 273.

74 See the ‘Free Coloured Petition to the Assembly of the North, November 10, 1789’. This is reprinted in Geggus, D (ed.) The Haitian Revolution: A Documentary History (Hackett, Indianapolis, 2014). 61. 75 The ‘Enfranchisement of Free Men of Colour, May 15, 1791’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 108. 76 The pledge, as quoted in Blackburn, R (191). ‘Anti-Slavery and the French Revolution’. History Today. 41(11): 19, 21. See also the ‘Bois Caiman Ceremony’, as reprinted in Geggus, D (ed.) The Haitian Revolution: A Documentary History (Hackett, Indianapolis, 2014). 78–79. ‘The Slave Insurgent Make Demands’,are also in Geggus, at 82–83. 77 See the ‘Peace Treaty of 19–23 October, 1791’, as reprinted in Geggus, ibid. 68–69. 78 See ‘Spain’s Offer to the Insurgent Slaves’, as reprinted in Geggus, ibid, 105. 79 The ‘Emancipation Proclamation of August 29th, 1793’, as reprinted in Geggus, D (ed.) The Haitian Revolution: A Documentary History (Hackett, Indianapolis, 2014). 107. 80 The ‘Proclamation to the Slaves of Saint Dominique’. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 209. 81 ‘Proclamation of August 29, 1793’. This is reprinted in Mason, ibid, 209. 82 The Decree of February 4th 1794, as reprinted in Peabody, S (ed.) Slavery, Freedom and the Law in the Atlantic World: A Brief History with Documents. (St Martins, Boston, 2007). 62. 83 See pages 240–241. 84 Davis, D (2006). Inhuman Bondage. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 166; Blackburn, R (191). ‘Anti-Slavery and the French Revolution’. History Today. 41(11): 19, 23; Geggus, D (1981). ‘The British Government and the Saint Dominique Slave Revolt’. The English Historical Review. 96 (379): 285–305. 85 See ‘Toussaint’s Labour Decree’, as reprinted in Geggus, D (ed.) The Haitian Revolution: A Documentary History (Hackett, Indianapolis, 2014). 153, and 166. 86 The ‘Constitution, July, 1801’, as reprinted in Geggus, ibid, 160, 161. See also Semley, L (2013). ‘To Live and Die, Free and French’. Radical History Review. 115: 65–87. 87 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 138, 140–42; Meltzer, M (1993). Slavery: A World History. (Da Capo, NYC). 124–25. 88 See ‘Napoleon on Slave Emancipation’, as reprinted in Geggus, ibid, 171. 89 This quote is from Napoleon’s orders to Consul Cambaceres, 27 April 1802. This is reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 351. See also ‘General Leclerc and the Restoration of Slavery’, as reprinted in Geggus, ibid, 172–73. 90 The ‘Declaration of Independence’, as reprinted in Geggus, D (ed.) The Haitian Revolution: A Documentary History (Hackett, Indianapolis, 2014). 179; Gonzalez, J (2015). ‘Defiant Haiti: Free-Soil Runaways, Ship Seizures and the Politics of Diplomatic Non-Recognition in the Early Nineteenth Century’. Slavery and Abolition. 36(1): 124–40; Girard, P (2005). ‘Caribbean Geonice: Racial War in Haiti, 1802–1804’. Patterns of Prejudice. 39(2): 138–61.

X The Wars of North and Eastern Europe 1.

Introduction

T

north and eastern Europe were vicious, in which great nations would rise (Russia), while others (Poland-Lithuania) would disappear. In between, other lands like Austria, Prussia, Sweden and Denmark, would battle to the edge of their existence. Their wars were bloody, extreme and complicated, as factors of ethnicity, religion, revenge, fear and opportunity would repeatedly coincide. Perhaps the most unique outcome of the causes of war in north and east Europe at this point of history was not that bilateral conflicts could be ended when facing greater threats (the Ottomans), or that peace via division and agreement was possible; but rather that the same cooperation, could also lead to the total dismemberment of other, theoretically friendly, lands like Poland-Lithuania. This realm, which had existed since 1569 and was one of the most populous countries in seventeenth-century Europe, was carved up at the end of the eighteenth century, by Orthodox Russia, Catholic Austria and Protestant Prussia, in three separate subdivisions. Such actions appeared to sit easily in a land where strongly autocratic rulers could come together, for both mutual benefit (the spoils of a weak third party) and mutual fear (the risks of the Enlightenment values, such as those embodied in the French Revolution). HE WARS OF

2.

The First Northern War

(a) A Quest for Autonomy Peace did not settle in northern and central Europe after the Peace of Westphalia. Rather, in 1648, the same year that the signatures were going on the deal that ended the Thirty Years War, an uprising led by the Ukrainian Cossack, Bohdan Khmelnytsky, was sparking as the forces of Khmelnytsky, in their quest for autonomy, began their ethnic cleansing (of Poles and Jews). This was done in an area within the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, under the control of the King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania, John II Casimir Vasa (or more commonly, just Casimir). Matters culminated at the end of June 1651 when, reportedly, over

200,000 fighters collided, with three quarters of the men (from peasants to professionals) being for Khmelnytsky. Despite this numerical advantage, they were roundly defeated by the 50,000 professional Polish-Lithuanian forces, who apparently killed tens of thousands in the process.1 (b) From a Local to a Regional Conflict The timing of the fight against Casimir was not good. Although Casimir was an elected monarch, having been placed in power by a Sejm (a Slavic word for ‘gathering’), at this point of history, the collective of nobles was strong and the notorious liberum veto which had appeared in 1652, was still very novel. Accordingly, the members of the Sejm at both the provincial and national levels, worked well together in the national interest, allowing them to apply considerable focus upon the uprising by Khmelnytsky. Khmelnytsky realised that if he was going to achieve autonomy, he needed some equally big friends to help him, so he turned towards Russia and asked Tsar Alexis for a military alliance.2 Tsar Alexis was a good choice, as he was rapidly becoming a very powerful autocrat, having battled his own peasants over the price of food and social customs (ensuring no foreign customs were followed in Russia); battled the religious authorities (the Holy Synod) to ensure that their power was secondary to his; and battled the civil authorities by reforming the existing Duma (an assembly of the nobility/boyars) to a slightly wider Senate, albeit one which was tasked with interpreting the will of the Tsar. It was in all of this change, that Tsar Alexis saw the benefit of disregarding his peace with Poland-Lithuania and replacing it with a new conflict against an external enemy, as a way to galvanise his realm.3 Tsar Alexis and Bohdan Khmelnytsky concluded their agreement in early 1654 with the Treaty of Pereyaslav. With this, Tsar Alexis, promised these [Zaporozhian, on the left bank of the Dnieper River in the Ukraine] Cossacks substantial autonomy. In exchange, they granted him overall sovereignty, ‘and swore an oath of eternal allegiance to … the great sovereign [Alexis], and to … the sovereign’s, children and successors’.4 With this alliance, the two allies now joined forces, and began to successfully push back against the forces of PolandLithuania.5 Sweden, which was the most powerful realm in northern Europe at this point, was watching this conflict carefully. This country, which had found itself stronger after the Peace of Westphalia in Scandinavia and the Baltic had recently enlarged to the east (with Ingria, Estonia and parts of Livonia) and the west (with western Pomerania, Bremen, Verden and Wismar in the Holy Roman Empire). Their new King Charles X (and his supporting Riksdag) saw an opportunity to increase the borders of Sweden even further – by taking territory from Poland-Lithuania. To achieve this goal, the Swedes not only agreed to work with Russia but they also voiced support for the rights of Protestants in the same area, while also reactivating some historical claims to territories and authority in parts of Poland-Lithuania. In reply, the Polish King made reciprocal claims on Sweden.6 To increase their chances even further, Sweden made positive treaties with England and

then, in tandem with Russia, obtained a defensive alliance with Brandenburg (under which their leader, Frederick William/I, who forgot his former promises of peace with PolandLithuania). Transylvania followed suit. Their leader, George II Rakoczy also joined the fight against Poland-Lithuania, albeit without the consent of his Ottoman overlords, for which the Sultan would depose him a few years later.7 The odds were against the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth as they were attacked from three sides. By early August 1655, the Russians had taken Vilnius (the capital of Lithuania), a city which had long challenged Moscow for leadership of the eastern Slavic world. The taking of this city was said to have been particularly bloody, with some 20,000 citizens perishing, including a disproportionate number of Jewish people. At the same point, the Swedes consumed most of the parts of Livonia that they did not already possess and also made advances throughout Lithuania, with local nobles agreeing by treaties to recognise the Swedish King Charles X as their new Grand Duke of Lithuania and proclaiming a union of Lithuania with Sweden. Charles also made strong advances into Poland, whereby parts of Poland pledged their loyalty to him (in exchange for protection of their property and liberties)8 before entering Warsaw in late July 1656 with 18,000 Swedish and Brandenburg soldiers, to which a force nearly double that surrendered, after suffering some 4,000 casualties. Cracow fell a month later (with over 15,000 men surrendering in the process). The results were such that the majority of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth was now in enemy hands.9 Despite this onslaught, Poland-Lithuania survived via two considerations. First, the primary belligerents attacking Poland-Lithuania, namely Russia and Sweden, stopped fighting John Casimir, and turned on each other. Second, as this began to occur, Casimir obtained new allies and broke up the alliance that was fighting against him. Of the first consideration, the initial step Casimir took was agreeing a truce with Russia10 in early November 1656, and then peace with Brandenburg the following month at the end of 1656. Transylvania followed soon after.11 This truce with Russia was particularly important, as it followed that made with the Swedes. The latter had John Casimir promising the Tsar the throne of Poland-Lithuania, after he died, for a three-year truce while alive. Brandenburg was promised a bag full of territories from the Polish realm. These promises were significant, as it went to the heart of an unarticulated area between Russia and Sweden, namely, who was going to get what from the Poland-Lithuania’s spoils. As the misunderstanding and national covetousness in this area grew, the Russians declared war on Sweden. As the primary antagonists went to war against each other, Casimir then reached for new allies. These included Tatars from the Ukraine (from the other side of the river), who fought at the direction of the Ottoman Sultan, who was happy to lend these troops to fight his disobedient Transylvanian vassal. Denmark, with its absolute monarch of King Frederick III, was happy to join the alliance, as Sweden was its traditional enemy.12 The United Provinces also joined, although their incentive was profit, not vendetta. Austria, as led by the Habsburg ruler, and Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, Leopold I from 1658, was happy to join for reasons of money, and the justification that if Poland-Lithuania fragmented, then the entire Peace of Westphalia could collapse.13 Even Brandenburg-Prussia swapped sides again with

the Treaty of Bromberg in September of 1657, under which Frederick William/I, traded friends for promises of recognition of his sovereignty in Ducal Prussia in Polish Prussia, from which an independent Prussia would be born.14 With the Swedish and Russian conflicts against Poland-Lithuania now on hold, Russia and Sweden made ready to attack each other. Tsar Alexis struck first, trying to obtain a foothold in Livonia, which he achieved after his forces took Dorpat, 98 years after Russia had last held it. The Russians then took Dunaburg and Kokenhausen, but failed to obtain Riga after the Swedes, in August 1657, repelled the Russians, killing 8,000 of them and wounding or taking prisoner a further 14,000.15 Having pushed back Russia, King Charles X of Sweden then swung rapidly towards Denmark, the hapless ally of Poland-Lithuania, advancing quickly on the Danish capital of Copenhagen. This potential disaster was stopped by the United Provinces, which sent a fleet to deny the Swedes control of the Sound, the narrow gateway to the Baltic Sea. Although the Battle of the Sound in late October (when 80 ships battled for superiority) was somewhat of a draw and the Swedish king was forced to abandon his siege of Copenhagen, the shock was enough for the Danes to agree to the Treaty of Roskilde in early 1658. With this, Denmark gave up one-third of its territory (losing everything east of the Sound) to be able to safely exit the war, and keep the remaining two thirds of its land.16 (c) Peace Despite this deal, the following year in 1659, the Swedish King renewed the conflict in an attempt to completely destroy Denmark. This goal was thwarted by his own death. His successor and son, Charles XI, came to the throne as another untethered monarch with absolute power. However, unlike his father, Charles XI believed the best way to further the interests of Sweden was through negotiated peace, not violent opportunism and conquest.17 His goal was found through a multi-staged process, with a four-way treaty agreed in 1660. This Treaty of Oliva had Poland-Lithuania, the Holy Roman Empire, BrandenburgPrussia, Denmark and Sweden all stop shooting at each other.18 The basis of the peace between Sweden and Poland-Lithuania was that both leaders renounced their dynastic claims on the thrones’ of the other. Livonia was divided between Sweden and Poland-Lithuania, with the former getting the northern half, and the latter, the southern. With the Holy Roman Empire, Emperor Leopold I returned the territories (Pomerania and Mecklenburg) his forces had taken during the conflict. Brandenburg-Prussia secured Poland’s renunciation of sovereignty over the Duchy of Prussia, while Sweden also promised to abandon Royal Prussia in Poland, and ‘renounced forever’19 the bonds of vassalage that she had imposed on Brandenburg (thus making it an independent country). Then, in a nod towards trying to find non-violent pathways going forward, the parties promised to ‘unite’ in the protection of the peace, and if anyone was injured in any manner other than arms, then ‘a general commission’ was to be created, to, ‘settle the differences’.20 The Swedish King Charles XI also made peace with Denmark towards the end of May

1660. Here, freedom of transit for merchant vessels, transit with advance notice for military vessels and equality in naval etiquette (no-one side had to lower their flags in advance) was agreed in the Danish-controlled Sounds. In exchange, Sweden renounced all her recent Danish conquests, and dynastic claims over certain parts – losing Bornholm and Trondheim in the process.21 The next peace the Swedish King Charles XI concluded was with Tsar Alexis at Kardis in the middle of June, 1661.22 This was easy to achieve as the Russians had effectively withdrawn from fighting Sweden in 1658, after the Swedes had overrun Karelia, in west Finland. At this point, Russia had no intention of challenging this result, and the Tsar wanted peace, fearing that otherwise the other countries could now gang up on him. The peace involved both sides reverting to what they had settled in 1617,23 with no significant changes of territory, beyond Russia renouncing all claims and recent conquests in Livonia. Free trade, transit and respect for the religion of the other (but no building of new churches in the territory of the other), was also part of the package. The two sides also promised that disputes between the them would, in the future, be settled peacefully by commissioners delegated for the purpose. Although Russia made peace with Sweden, the Russian conflict with Poland-Lithuania continued to burn, having reignited in 1658, before the end of the truce. It began as Tsar Alexis sent 30,000 men into Lithuania and the once-loyal Cossack forces splintered in their allegiance, as the new King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania, Michal Wisniowiecki, offered the Cossack rebels even greater benefits than the Tsar was willing to part with.24 With this swapping, warfare resumed between opposing armies and opposing Cossack forces. All repeatedly clashed, with Polish forces slowly getting the upper hand as they formed an alliance with the Crimean Tartars.25 The killing only stopped in 1667 when a truce was agreed at Andrusovo.26 With this, Polotsk and (Polish) Livonia were restored to Poland, but Smolensk and Kiev were to go to Russia (albeit, with the latter meant to only be temporary for two years), together with everything on the left bank of the Dnieper River. As the Ukraine was now divided into two parts, the Zaporozhian Cossacks (on the left bank of the Dnieper River in the Ukraine) were also placed clearly under the arm of Moscow. Free trade between the regions was agreed, as was religious tolerance of the other, and both sides were to start to provide for a common defence against the Ottomans. The 1667 truce (which was renewed in 1670 and 1678)27 became a pathway to a more permanent peace between Russia and Poland-Lithuania because of two reasons. First, when the next rebellion against Russian overlords (along the Don river two years later in 1669, by Stenka Razin)28 occurred, neither the Polish-Lithuanian forces, nor their Cossack allies, became involved. Second, the leaders of both lands recognised that now, the greater threat to their security was the rise of the Ottoman Empire,29 to which cooperation, not conflict, between the two would be the key to their mutual survival. This realisation was cemented in April 1686 with an ‘eternal peace’30 between Russia and Poland-Lithuania, and a joint offensive against their common enemy. Although much of the peace was the same as with the earlier truce, one notable difference was that Kiev (having proved impossible to return due to

the Orthodox basis) was now made a permanent part of Russia, for which tens of thousands of roubles were paid to Poland-Lithuania.31

3.

The Second Northern War

(a) The End of the Peace The truce, and the peace deals reached between Poland-Lithuania and Russia in 1667 and 1686 were fundamental in preventing the northern superpowers from colliding for a couple of decades. In addition, although Denmark and Sweden drifted into the French-related conflicts, their trend in the north was towards less conflict and, most significantly, Sweden and Denmark missed the Nine Years War, having largely reconciled many of their differences in 1689, preferring to be allies rather than enemies.32 However, the peace that they secured was to be turned upside down, changing into a war which would, from the turn of the century, burn for 21 years and take the lives of at least 350,000 Swedes, and an incalculable number of those from Russia, Poland-Lithuania, Denmark, Prussia, Saxony and Hanover.33 (b) New Rulers and a Chosen Target The calm started to unravel in that part of the world with the passing of several of the great monarchs of the age and the rise of new ambitious leaders in their places. Of the deaths, John Sobieski, the man who had put concrete back into the Poland-Lithuanian Commonwealth passed (d.1696) as did the king of Denmark (Christian V, d.1699). Their replacements were, from 1697, for Poland-Lithuania Augustus II (who was also the Elector of Saxony) and the new king of Denmark (from 1699) was Frederick IV. Sweden saw its monarch, Charles XI, pass in April 1697, and the Crown pass to his son, the 18-year-old Charles XII, at the end of the same year. Finally, at that point, the most monumental ruler of them all emerged in that part of the world, Peter the Great. He arose after a period of weakness following the death of Tsar Alexis in 1676. His sickly son, Feodor III, held on for a few years, before he died in 1682, without children. Next, power was held by Sofia (the daughter of Tsar Alexis, of his first wife) who acted as regent for the disabled Ivan (also a son of Alexis, of his first wife) and Peter, (also a son of Alexis, of his second wife). This situation lasted until 1689 when the 17year-old Peter took the reins and banished Sofia to a monastery. He then began to advance his country from a semi-feudal society into the modern state it became. To do so, he radically upset the established order. The military was modernised, the religious authorities were clearly reminded of their subordinate position behind him, and the Senate was reined in to ensure it did not do anything beyond interpreting his goals and intentions for Russia. From the provision of newspapers and public schools, through to getting his citizens to change their dress (to western) style and getting all men to become clean shaven (unless with a

religious exemption), there were, simply no limits to what Peter could do with Russia.34 These new rulers from Poland-Lithuania, Denmark and Russia, all eyed with envy the vast territory held by the young Swedish King of Charles XII. They aimed to take most, if not all, of it. This included the core lands in Sweden, most of modern-day Finland, as well as Ingria, Estonia and Livonia, and all their associated access points to the Baltic. BremenVerden and the Duchy of Mecklenburg, in today what is northern Germany, as well as the Schleswig-Holstein area (the territory that connects Denmark to Germany) were also attractive to the neighbours of Sweden. The broad idea was to launch an attack, from different directions, into Sweden. The expectation was that the young king would quickly capitulate when faced with such overwhelming odds.35 The diplomatic situation immediately before the Second Northern War was fluid. In 1698 alone, Sweden had, wisely, made or renewed its alliances with the United Provinces, France and Britain.36 At the end of that same year of 1698, Denmark and Sweden renewed their defensive alliance for a further five years.37 During the same period, and unbeknownst to Sweden, a collective opposition was being quietly knitted together by the disgruntled Livonian nobleman, Johann Patkul. His diplomacy helped pull the Danes and Saxony (and Poland-Lithuania) into a defensive alliance in 1698.38 The following year, in 1699, Denmark and Russia struck an alliance, which was followed by Denmark renewing and extending its alliance with Poland-Lithuania. Denmark then put concrete around its relationships with Munster and Brandenburg.39 (c) The Killing Begins In late February 1700, without any declaration of war, 14,000 Saxon troops invaded Livonia and laid siege to Riga. In March, Frederick IV of Denmark, armed with muddy dynastic claims, invaded the territories of the Duke of Holstein-Gottorp to the south of him, with 16,000 men and laid siege to the town of Tonning (in the Schleswig-Holstein area). Tsar Peter, waiting for his full conclusion of peace with Istanbul first, did not declare war on Sweden until 9 August. The Tsar declared this was because of, ‘the many wrongs of the Swedish king, and especially during the Tsar’s [diplomatic] journey through Riga’ in which ‘he suffered obstacles and unpleasantness at the hands of the people of Riga’. Therefore, ‘his soldiers shall march in war on the Swedish towns’. The proposed objectives were the provinces of Ingria and Karelia, ‘which by the Grace of God and according to the law have always belonged to Russia’.40 Unbeknownst to all of his adversaries, King Charles XII of Sweden was to prove himself good at propaganda (and gaining international sympathy) and excellent at war, patiently absorbing the initial attacks against him, while carefully deciding which enemy to strike first. The target he chose was his Danish cousin, King Frederick IV. As Frederick had breached the peace and alliance treaties he shared with Sweden, Charles decided that Denmark would be his first victim. This decision was helped by the fact that the English and the Dutch were guarantors to these treaties, and because they were tied by alliances to Sweden. Accordingly,

they both provided naval help to Sweden. England and the United Provinces were doubly happy to help Sweden, as this short circuited Charles XII from asking for help from their French friends. Keeping this connection dead was critical, as otherwise, the War of Spanish Succession could suddenly sweep northward, and become a massive global inferno. The help the Dutch and the English provided took the form of assistance in landing 10,000 Swedish near Copenhagen, thus threatening the heart of Denmark. With this threat, and unable to defend his capital as most of his soldiers were elsewhere, Frederick agreed the Treaty of Travendahl with Charles in late August 1700.41 In exchange for Charles not destroying Copenhagen, Frederick had to agree to abstain from further action and hand back most of the Swedish territories his forces has recently taken (including the captured portion of Holstein, but retaining Schleswig). Denmark was then folded into promises of alliance, friendship and commerce with both England and the United Provinces.42 The King of Sweden then turned his attention to the Russians who were busy besieging Narva (in modern-day Estonia). The opposing armies clashed at the end of November 1700, when some well-trained 10,500 or so Swedish soldiers, defeated a Russian force of 24,000, inflicting perhaps 8,000 casualties in the process. Despite this victory, King Charles XII did not pursue the Russians, turning his attention, instead, towards Augustus II of PolandLithuania and Saxony. This focus allowed the Russians to regroup. They then took some victories in Livonia in 1702, inflicting losses at Dorpat (1,000) and Schlippenbach (2,500), while the Cossack auxiliaries of Peter ravaged the surrounding areas. His forces then took the fortress of Noteborg, which surrendered after a siege. The following year, in 1703, Peter pushed 20,000 more men to complete his conquest of Ingria, thus gaining access to the Baltic. It was at this spot where Peter first set his foot on the Baltic Coast, that the great city of Saint Petersburg, was founded. The following year, in 1704, Tsar Peter moved to control the two key Estonian towns of Dorpat and Narva, which would seal the Russian grip on Ingria and block any Swedish advance from the west. Dorpat, surrounded by 23,000 men, surrendered in July, and Narva was sacked in July.43 (d) Poland-Lithuania Tsar Peter was able to make these advances because the Swedish King Charles XII had been busy elsewhere. With one hand, Charles was signing new alliances (with Prussia and Brunswick),44 while with the other, he was giving Augustus II of Poland-Lithuania and Saxony a beating. He had focused on him (after thrashing Denmark) because of a deep dislike for his opponent, accusing him of the ‘unjust and treacherous invasion’45 of his lands. The Swedish king crossed the river Dvina in 1701 and proceeded to march from one end of Poland to the other, devastating all in his way, en route to Saxony, with the most notable early victory being at Kliszow in mid-1702, when 12,000 Swedes defeated a Polish-LithuanianSaxon opposition that was double its size. A further large defeat followed for Augustus at the battle of Pultusk in April 1703. Warsaw, Cracow, Poznan, and Ebling were occupied soon after. In 1704, the Swedes took Thorn, and then won a victory at Poznan. The results were

significant enough for Charles to orchestrate a gathering of the national Polish Sejm and have the Saxon Augustus deposed and replaced by the young Polish nobleman, Stanisław Leszczyński. Leszczyński was elected in a process which was assisted by 100 Swedish soldiers who were stationed to ‘protect’ the electors and ‘to teach them to speak the right language’.46 Leszczyński repaid the favour with the Treaty of Perpetual Alliance between Poland and Sweden47 which gave Sweden the right to occupy all Polish cities and ports, while the Commonwealth promised that, ‘alliances which have been concluded with other powers against Sweden are annulled’.48 This treaty also annulled any Sejm decisions which were ‘contrary to Polish liberty’.49 It then added: The two contracting parties will assemble their forces against the Tsar … and will not lay down their arms until they have been compelled to give satisfaction for the wrongs he has done to both parties.50

Although Augustus II had been deposed by the Polish Sejm, and was defeated on the battlefield, Russia kept him in the fight via providing financial and military support in accordance with the 1704 Treaty of Narva.51 Augustus survived by exiting Poland, and regrouping in his home base in Saxony. Then, at the very end of 1705, Charles marched out with 20,000 men to rekindle the war. The result at Grodno (in today’s Belarus) saw a combined force of 30,000 Russians, Saxons and Poles besieged and defeated by 8,000 Swedes. While this siege was occurring, the opposition also clashed at Fraustadt in early February 1706. At this battle, the 9,400 Swedes and their new allies, defeated another force of Russians and Saxons, which was almost double their size. They killed over 7,000 of their enemy and took an equal number prisoner. Charles then decided to pursue Augustus into Saxony.52 By late August, the Swedes had crossed the Silesian frontier and marched towards the Electorate of Saxony. Their entry was easy, from which Charles marched unopposed (as the Saxon forces were elsewhere) to occupy the major city of Leipzig and the capital of Dresden. From this position of strength, the King of Sweden dictated the terms of peace, in the middle October 1706, from his headquarters at Altranstadt. With this, Augustus accepted the throne of Poland-Lithuania was no longer his to which he abdicated, accepting that the crown now belonged on the head of Stanisulaus Leszczyński. He also had to give up his military alliance with Russia, and finally, handed over Johann Patkul (the man behind the original disturbances and military alliances against Charles) who was taken to Sweden, tortured and then executed.53 (e) The Swedish Invasion of Russia If there was ever a point when the Second Northern War was about to merge with the War of Spanish Succession, it was now. Here was Sweden, a traditional ally of France, with very convincing firepower, right next to major battlegrounds in western Europe, with invitations from disgruntled Protestants in Hungary and Bohemia, to intervene on their behalf in the Habsburg territories. However, Charles did not take up these invitations and thus, did not join

the war of Spanish Succession. Rather, the Swedish king, wheeled his army around, and started moving towards his next target: Russia. To this goal, after bolstering some regional alliances around Poland (especially with support from Prussia), the Swedish troops crossed the Vistula on 1 January 1708.54 The decision to directly invade Russia was monumental. There was no consideration of peace. His goal was to topple Tsar Peter, and his method was via a direct strike on Moscow. His tools were a grand total of 70,000 men marching from three different directions. The advantages that Charles had were a highly professional force, a recent track record of success, and his own ability as an exceptional leader. The tools that Peter had were 100,000 soldiers (on paper). The advantage that Peter had was he was defending his homeland. The home advantage this offered Peter’s was his ability to move around easier, absorb and replenish losses quicker, and burn everything of value that would be of use to the advancing Swedes. This pattern started in the middle of July, before being repeated in late August at Molyatychy (10,000 Swedes fighting 13,000 Russians), and then at Lesnaya (12,500 Swedes fighting 14,600 Russians) at the end of September. In each engagement, although more Russians died, a few thousand Swedes were also killed. The difference was the Swedish soldiers could not be replaced, and with each step forward, they were one step further from their home.55 The King of Sweden hoped to slow this painful process by making an alliance with Ivan Mazeppa, the Hetman of the Ukrainian Zaporozhian Cossacks, thereby creating overwhelming odds against Tsar Peter. Mazeppa, fearing an attack from the close ally of Charles, the new Polish King Stanisław Leszczyński, now declared for Charles, declaring void his allegiance (dating back to 1654) to the Russian Tsar. Peter argued Mazeppa did this, ‘in order to put the land of Little Russia [the Ukraine] as before under the dominion of Poland and to turn the churches and monasteries over to the Catholics’.56 Peter then went to great lengths to point out the liberties, privileges and immunities that the Cossacks possessed under Russian suzerainty, and that in historical terms, it was the Poles who had ‘tormented’ and ‘grievously oppressed’ them, not the Russians. Peter then accepted a new Hetman and placed a bounty (according to rank) for every Swede captured or killed. Then, to show his determination while insisting on the highest standards for his Russian troops when dealing with the Cossack communities that were loyal to him, he ordered the exact opposite for those who betrayed him. Russian forces stormed Baturin (the ancient stronghold of the Cossacks) and killed every living person they could capture. The collective result for the Cossacks, was that the majority of them decided to stay loyal to Peter, not Charles.57 (f) Russia becomes a World Power As Peter was battling for the hearts and minds of the Cossacks, Charles turned a large part of his invading army around and pushed south towards his new ally, hoping that there his tired soldiers could replenish, in what became one of the worst winters in memory (with over 3,000 Swedes freezing to death, as the skirmishing continued). When spring arrived, Charles

decided to reset the trajectory and attack Poltava (in central Ukraine). This time the Russians were prepared and had augmented the defences. Nonetheless, with only 4,100 soldiers and 2,600 armed residents, the Russians were massively outnumbered when the siege began in July, 1709. The defenders held out for over five weeks, before Peter’s force of 42,000 men arrived to relieve the siege at Poltava. At this point, Peter issued a proclamation to his army: Soldiers, the hour has struck when the fate of the whole motherland lies in your hands. Either Russia will perish or she will be reborn in a nobler shape. The soldiers must not think of themselves as armed and drawn up to fight for Peter, but for Tsardom, entrusted to Peter by his birth and by the people … Of Peter it should be known that he does not value his own life, but only that Russia should live in piety, glory and prosperity.58

In the killing that followed at Poltava on 27 June 1708, Peter completely outclassed his Swedish opponent. The army of Charles XII which had begun the battle with 19,000 men recorded 6,900 dead or wounded, and had 2,760 taken prisoner. A further 16,000 Swedes who were stationed elsewhere, surrendered two days later. Peter lost only 1,345 men and 3,290 were wounded. Charles, now had to flee, but the route to Sweden was closed. This meant that his only option was to flee towards Ottoman Turkey on the outer rim of the European world. Charles made his escape with only 900 or so of his soldiers and some 2,000 Cossacks. Everyone one else was left behind to be executed as traitors (the Cossacks) or made prisoners of war (the Swedes), of which only about 5,000 (of an original army of 70,000) ever made it home when the war ended. Although the Swedish king survived to fight another day, a monumental outcome had been achieved at Poltava, as the political axis of Europe fundamentally shifted.59 On the battlefield, Riga (the capital of modern-day Latvia), and Reval (the capital of Estonia) fell in short order, as did Vyborg (situated between modern-day Russia and Finland) to an overwhelming force of 18,000 Russians, who killed at least 2,000 of the 6,000 defenders. The result was that the areas of Livonia and Estonia, previously in the possession of Sweden, passed into the hands of Peter. In 1711, well planned co-ordination60 by the emboldened military alliance against Charles XII meant Swedish Pomerania was swarmed by 12,000 Russian, 6,000 Saxon and 6,000 Polish-Lithuanian troops, as well as a contingent from Denmark. However, these forces could not take their targets of Stralsund and Wismar (both modern-day northern Germany, on the Baltic), due to a lack of siege artillery, from which the Swedes at Gadebusch, who had deployed their last major reserves, recorded their final victory in the war. This was a short-lived celebration as they had to surrender early the next year to a vastly superior army of Saxons, Poles, Danes and Russians.61 The political sea-change caused by these victories was monumental. From this point in history, Russia became a first-rate world power. The family of Tsar Peter was now welcomed into a couple of dynastic marriages, and new treaties followed with Prussia-Brandenburg (who forgot their recent alliance to Sweden and became best friends with Russia), Hanover and Denmark.62 The last relationship was particularly important as Peter married off Anna (the future Tsarina) the daughter of his half-brother, Ivan, to the Duke of Courland, from which the dynastic mixing would come back to cause great troubles with the future Tsar, Peter III. This marriage was preceded by two others, as Peter started to marry off his family members into the royal houses of western Europe.63

The other diplomatic celebration for Peter was the one with Poland-Lithuania, which was revitalised as Augustus II forgot all the promises he had made at Altranstadt, and struck up a renewed relationship with Peter, who now held all the cards. This was easy to do as his rival Stanisław Leszczyński had fled to France, where he married Maria, the daughter of the French King Louis XV. However, the absence of domestic competition did not mean that Augustus regained control over Poland-Lithuania. Rather, the exact opposite occurred as Russian troops marched directly into his realm in 1715 (when Polish nobility were looking to expel all foreigners, including their king from Saxony) and again in 1717 (to end an uprising which Augustus could not contain). With the 1717 intervention, the troops oversaw a national Sejm, in which the representatives were not allowed to speak (the ‘Silent Sejm’), so that a settlement pleasing to both Augustus and Peter could be agreed without dissent. The Russians then persuaded Augustus to strip down the size of the Polish-Lithuanian forces and exit his Saxony troops. By this point, Peter saw Augustus as fully dependent on the power of the Tsar, and Poland as a kind of Protectorate, softly annexed to the Russian Empire.64 All these new relationships, echoed the views of Britain, the United Provinces and the Holy Roman Empire, that neutrality was to be the overwhelming goal in the way they viewed the efforts of Russia. While silence was easy with Poland-Lithuania, they then stretched it to Sweden, where, despite their traditional linkages, they would not intervene as Peter pushed as hard as he could against his adversary. France may have wanted to help Sweden, but it too, was exhausted by war.65 Although ring-fenced from the other European powers, the Great Northern War continued to burn as despite Ingria, Estonia and Livonia now being in Russian hands, the allies against Sweden wanted more. To plan their menu, the anti-Swedish alliance reassembled in early October 1713, renewed their vows to each other, agreed how they would cooperate, and who would get what as they divided up the Swedish imperial provinces.66 With this agreement in hand, Peter then directed his military down the coast of Finland. Clashes followed at the battles of Palkane and then Napue (February 1714), with the Swedes conducting a series of fighting retreats, before all of Finland was in the hands of Peter and the battlefields were littered with Swedish bodies. This was followed by the ocean, with the Russians recording their first ever naval victory over Sweden at Gangut at the end of July 1714 when all nine ships of the opposition were captured or destroyed.67 As the Swedish Empire was crumbling, King Charles XII finally made it home from the Ottoman Empire at the end of 1714. However, he could not stop the slide. On his return, he found his realm at war with Russia, Poland-Lithuania, Saxony, Hanover and Denmark – all of whom expected a bite out of his territory.68 Stralsund fell in late 1715, as did Wismar in April of the following year. Soon after, in early July 1716, the Swedish navy was defeated by Denmark at Dynekilen, losing 11 warships and 19 transports. These defeats brought an end to all Sweden’s Baltic and German possessions. Then, despite this monumental sequence of losses, Charles swung back, trying to strike at Denmark with 40,000 men, attempting to repeat his old trick of knocking them out of the war. This time it was he who was knocked out of the war, shot dead while besieging Norwegian Fredriksten at the end of November 1718.69

(e) Peace Despite the loss of their king, the sister of Charles, Ulrika Eleonora, refused to agree to a peace which reflected the defeated status of Sweden. It was only when the Russians scored more victories (at Ezel in early June 1719, Staket in the middle of August 1719 and then at Grengam in early August 1720) that the Swedes, progressively, agreed to a sequence of treaties in 1719, 1720 and 1721. In all instances, to obtain peace with its neighbours, Sweden had to give up territory to end the fighting. In terms of internal changes within the country, the style of absolute monarchy that had allowed Charles XI and Charles XII to lead Sweden into such disastrous wars was abandoned, and an Estates General was progressively introduced, to keep their monarch in check.70 With regard to the external peace, by the 1719 and 1720 Treaties of Stockholm, the Elector of Hanover (who was also the king of England) received the secularised bishoprics of Bremen and Verden after Sweden ceded their dominion. In addition, Prussia agreed to stop fighting in exchange for the Oder estuary, Stettin and part of Pomerania, with only a section of Swedish Prussia remaining.71 Peace between Denmark and Sweden saw the military victor obtain the Gottorp share of Schlwewig. Sweden also had to accept free passage in the Sound. Sweden also provided compensation for the land that Denmark held around Wismar but returned, while the traditional treaties (Copenhagen 1660, Fontainebleau 1679 and Stockholm also 1679) were re-affirmed.72 The final treaty of the series, that of Nystadt of 1721, brought peace between Sweden and Russia, while also marking the diplomatic and political eclipse of the former by the latter. The only way to get Russia to stop coming forwards was by Sweden ceding, ‘in full, irrevocable and perpetual possession, the provinces … Livonia, Estonia, Ingria … the district of Vyborg … the cities and forts of Riga, Reval, Dorpat, Narva …’73 The other corner that was chipped off, that of the small province of Schleswig, part of the hereditary possession of the dukes and Holstein, was taken and granted to Denmark. The result was that Sweden, although it obtained the return of most of Finland, lost all of its Baltic possessions. Conversely, Russia gained a wide stretch of Baltic and northern territory, from just south of Riga to about 200 miles north of St Petersburg. New boundary treaties, and even an alliance (in 1724) with Sweden, followed.74 The Russians were so happy with this that two months after the Treaty of Nystadt, a proclamation on 22 October 1721 declared that, after 21 years of warfare, Peter had accepted from the Russian people the title of ‘Father of the Fatherland, Emperor of all Russia, Peter the Great’.75

4.

Between the Wars

The power that Peter reached only lasted for as long as the man. When the great Tsar died on 8 February 1725, Russia had a revolving door of rulers. This began with Peter’s second wife Catherine I. She created, in early 1726, a Supreme Privy Council to help administer the

realm. This body, ‘for important external and internal affairs of state’76 was filled with eight people and trumped the Senate in terms of power. That body, with the help of the Tsarina, then doubled down on the alliances made in 1726 with Austria77 and Prussia,78 while also making peace with China,79 and securing what Russia already had in place with the Ottomans.80 Despite such positive work, the tenure of Catherine I was short as she died in 1727 after only two years in power. The Supreme Privy Council she had set up then directed power to Peter II and then gave it to Anna Loannovna in 1730 (when Peter II died). In so doing, the Supreme Privy Council made Anna swear to a series of constitutional limitations which would curtail her powers, making the consent of the Council essential (on matters of war, peace, tax, justice and privilege) in joint government with the Tsarina. Anna then swore, ‘should I not carry out or fail to live up to any part of this promise, I shall be deprived of the Russian Crown’.81 Anna then took power, and, when confident she had the necessary pieces (the palace guards, the Archbishop, a Procurator, a maverick Council member, and promises to the nobles over inheritance and military service to keep them happy), she tore up the constitutional limitations, disbanded the Supreme Privy Council and banished many of its members to Siberia.82

5.

The War of Polish Succession

The question of who was next to rule Poland-Lithuania was the subject of the next major war in Europe. The basis of the fight had to do with the national Sejm, following the death of Augustus II on 1 February 1733. There were two choices for successor. The first was Augustus III (the son of Augustus II). The second was the return of Stanisław Leszczyński who desired to regain the Polish-Lithuania throne. The Tsarina of Russia, Anna Loannovna, found the second option particularly unattractive, especially after Russia had done so much to obtain control over PolandLithuania. Also, because Stanisulaus was now married to the daughter of Louis XV, the likelihood of an alliance with France (and Sweden) looked highly possible if he was placed back into power. This preference for Augustus III was then repeated by Prussia, Austria and Saxony. This sequence of support was not surprising as Anna had, in the immediately preceding years, nurtured the alliance with Prussia,83 as well as maintaining relationships with both Sweden84 and Denmark.85 Initially, it looked like France would get its wish, as domestic support for the Polish-born Stanisulaus was built up to the point that a Sejm passed a resolution excluding foreigners from the election, thus blocking the alternative candidate of the Saxony-born Augustus III. Stanisulaus was duly crowned as King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania, on 12 September 1733. However, a few weeks later in early October, a group of Lithuanian magnates, supported by 30,000 Russian troops entered Poland, and held a minority counterelection, in which Augustus III was elected as king (and the other election declared null and void). This second election result was acknowledged by Russia, Saxony and Austria as

correct, whereas France maintained that the first was correct.86 As the dominoes were falling in Europe, France (as well as Spain, Sardinia, Bavaria and Savoy, all linked by recent alliance)87 declared war on Austria (while Britain and the United Provinces stayed neutral). Tsarina Anna then directed her Russian soldiers to advance further (when it was clear that the Ottomans would not intervene). They took Warsaw and Danzig (where Stanisław Leszczyński had fled), after the latter surrendered following a six-month siege at when tens of thousands of men circled the area in early 1734, and perhaps 8,000 died forcing the submission of the city at the end of June.88 The war quickly moved to other parts of Europe of which the French came out with the upper hand. The tentative peace of 1735 between France and Austria (which PolandLithuania adhered to, and Russia joined in 1736)89 allowed Augustus III to take, and establish full control over the land. His rule was confirmed by a national Sejm at the end of June 1736. Two months later, at the end of August, Stanisław Leszczyński renounced the throne, ‘voluntarily and for the sake of peace’90 for which he was compensated with the Duchy of Lorraine (to which he styled himself as its King), while the former Duke of Lorraine was made heir to the Duchy of Tuscany.91

6.

The Austrian War of Succession

The War of Austrian Succession broke out in central Europe, with the most significant battles between the Prussians and the Austrians echoing in early April 1741. As that war began, Austria looked elsewhere for help. Amongst others, Russia was a possibility, as they had established a good working relationship in the last 1730s,92 although Russia had also, recently renewed its alliances with Prussia (the adversary of Austria).93 Before Russia could make a reasoned decision on what to do next, Sweden, anxious to recover what she had lost in the Second Northern War, declared war on Russia in late July 1741. This was an ominous point, as Sweden had rebuilt strong relations with France (which was now engaged in the War of Austrian Succession) and the Ottoman Empire, with which it had signed an alliance in 1739.94 The Swedish forces then clashed with the Russians at Villmanstrand (today, south-east Finland) on 3 September 1741. Despite their enthusiasm, the Swedes were outclassed by the Russians. Out of a force of 6,000 Swedes, 3,300 were killed or wounded, and a further 1,300 were taken prisoner. Although Russia lost, perhaps, 500 dead and 1,500 wounded, it was a comprehensive victory for the forces of Anna Leopoldovna (the new de facto ruler of Russia, and regent of the next Tsar of Russia, Ivan IV).95 A few months after the Battle of Villmanstrand, Elizabeth Petrovna seized power from Anna Leopoldovna in a coup in Moscow, in early December 1741, from which Anna and Ivan were exiled and imprisoned. Elizabeth Petrovna, was the daughter of Peter the Great, by his second wife, Catherine I. She obtained power via the support of the Palace Guards, some Swedish assistance, and on the pretext that her inheritance had been wrongfully stolen from her. She also argued that Anna had become unduly influenced by foreign powers

(specifically, by her German lover). Once she had obtained power, Elizabeth reconstituted the Senate as it had been under Peter the Great, excluded all foreigners from positions of influence and gave additional benefits to the nobles.96 All the while, Elizabeth gave her full attention to warring with the Swedes, appreciating the galvanising influence a good foreign conflict can have after a coup. The results for Russia were excellent, as the following year, 1742, the main Swedish army of 17,000 men was cut off in Helsinki and forced to surrender. Tsarina Elizabeth, fearing that her thumping of Sweden could drag France into the conflict (as an ally of Sweden) made a treaty of defensive alliance with England at the end of 1742.97 In this, both promised that if either was, ‘attacked by sea or land, by whomsoever it shall be’98 then they would provide the other a pre-agreed amount of soldiers, sailors and warships. A few months later, in March 1743, another alliance was made, this time with Prussia.99 Five months later in August 1743, confident that Sweden was contained, the Treaty of Abo was forced upon them as the price of peace. Specifically, Sweden ceded to Russia all of Southern Finland, east of the Kymmene river.100 Russia then acceded to the peace between Prussia and Austria at the end of 1743.101 Many hoped that the War of Austrian Succession had now come to a close.102 However, this was not a peace, but rather a pause, in which there was a rapid change of alliances. This forced Tsarina Elizabeth to rethink and conclude, that the biggest threat to Russia was not France (or its partner Sweden, which was switched to a treaty of alliance),103 but rather, Prussia and its leader Frederick the Great, to which the Russians began mobilising in late 1745. Believing that the best way to keep Berlin in check was to share the burden, they then entered into an alliance with the Habsburg Austrians. This was concluded in June 1746 and promised that although the Holy Roman Empress Maria Theresa would not, ‘be the first to go back upon’ her promises with the 1745 peace settlement with Prussia but, ‘if … the King of Prussia should be the first to break this [1745, Dresden] Treaty by making a hostile attack’ on the territories of Austria or Russia, then, ‘for the purpose of removing the common danger’,104 the two sides would link together, and go to the aid of the one who had been invaded. A similar convention was concluded in late 1747 (after Prussia and Sweden had formed an alliance)105 between Russia, England and the United Provinces, where in return for a generous subsidy, Russian troops were again pushed towards their western borders, in anticipation of conflict.106 The final convention was signed at the end of November 1747 between Russia and Britain.

7.

The Seven Years War

Before any of these treaties were triggered, in 1748, the War of Austrian Succession came to an end. Russia, for all intents and purposes, escaped the bloodshed of the conflict. However, the war which followed quickly in its wake, the Seven Years War, engaged both Russia and Sweden. In this conflict, the Russians, who had initially made a bilateral treaty with Britain in 1755, found themselves – as the European politics swirled around them – reversing this

stance, and in late January 1757, they joined both France and Austria in their war against Prussia (the ally of Britain).107 This new alliance suited Tsarina Elizabeth, who hated Frederick the Great for personal reasons, and saw the potential benefits of pulling apart the Prussian realm. Specifically, the profit of joining the alliance for Russia was meant to be the Polish Duchy of Courland. Even the traditional Russian nemesis of Sweden, joined this alliance to fight Prussia in late March 1757, with the two of them (Russia and Sweden), linking into their own defensive alliance in the middle of 1758.108 While the fighting of this conflict is outlined in Chapter VI the key point to note is that Russia reversed its position upon the death of Tsarina Elizabeth on 5 January 1762. She was replaced by her nephew Peter (now Peter III). He was the grandson of Peter the Great, with his mother being Anna, the older sister of Tsarina Elizabeth. This man was an extreme autocrat, creating radical policies (especially in foreign policy), by himself. Peter III was not interested in sharing power, although he was wise enough to realise that to get the nobles on side, he had to give them something. His manifesto of 1762 turned the gentry of Russia into a truly privileged order, especially in terms of reduced obligations to serve the state.109 In foreign policy, the key point to note is that Peter’s father was Charles Frederick, a Swedish Prince who was Duke of Schleswig-Holsten-Gottorp. Thus, Peter was of both Russian and Swedish heritage, and with the latter, his story was intimately connected to the disputed Schleswig-Holsten-Gottorp region, which had been involved in the Great Northern War, with his particular corner given to Denmark in 1721. This meant that for Peter, his preoccupation was to be fighting Denmark over the outcome of this earlier conflict and the status of the Schleswig-Holstein, not fighting Frederick the Great in central Europe. The choice not to want to fight Frederick was deepened further by the fact that while his aunt Tsarina Elizabeth hated Frederick, Peter was besotted with, and idolised, the Prussian king.110 This change of leader and orientation resulted in a complete reversal of Russian policy, and an armistice was agreed with Prussia in the middle of March 1762.111 Two months later the Treaty of Saint Petersburg was concluded.112 This not only ended the fighting between Russia and Prussia, but Russia, also, promised to return all Prussian territory occupied by the Russians. Peter believed that only these sacrifices would bring peace to both his own country and to Europe. Sweden followed the lead of Russia, and also quickly concluded a peace on 22 May, withdrawing all of its forces from Prussian territory.113 One step further, an actual alliance was struck in the middle of June 1762, in which Peter III now promised Frederick Russian military support.114

8.

Catherine the Great

Tsar Peter III only held power for six months before he was killed either directly, or indirectly, on the orders of his wife, Catherine II/the Great. The catalyst for this was probably their unhappy marriage and his open talk of having her arrested and removed from Moscow,

so he could marry his mistress. Catherine struck before this could happen. This was remarkable as she was foreign by birth, and unlike her husband, had not been chosen for power. Rather, she simply took it. Catherine explained in her manifesto that the ‘great danger, caused by her husband, facing the whole Russian state’ was: First, the foundations of our Orthodox Greek religion were shaken and its traditions destroyed … [it was] … in critical danger of being supplanted by an alien [Lutheran] faith. Second, the glory of Russia, brought to a high pitch by her victorious arms … have now been trampled underfoot by the conclusion of peace with her most villainous enemy. Meanwhile, the internal regulations which are the basis of our fatherland’s welfare have been entirely overturned.115

To confront these problems, she explained she was ‘obliged to ascend the imperial throne’.116 She did this with the support of the Palace Guard, the Senate and the Church, while she personally led the way at a head of a long column of horsemen to capture and detain her husband. From being imprisoned at the end of June, it was a small step to him being strangled, six weeks later. Catherine’s coronation (after which she became Tsarina Catherine II) followed a few months later, on 22 September 1762. At the outset, Catherine II toyed with the idea of putting an end to absolutism in Russia, via a type of constitutional control through the creation of a permanent Imperial Council made up of eight members. However, by early 1763, she had decided not to pursue this option, or similar ideas that could restrain her power. She concluded that, ‘the sovereign is absolute; for no other authority except that which is concentrated in his person can act appropriately in a state whose expanse is so vast’.117 She went on to explain that: It is better to obey the law under one master than to please several. The purpose of autocracy is not to deprive people of their natural freedom, but to guide their actions so as to sustain the maximum good.118

To keep the nobles on side, she gave them their own assembly, through which they could funnel their concerns to the Senate. She also allowed them to monopolise positions in the central ministries, councils, and the all-important Senate. Nonetheless, if they served in positions of power, it was only at her pleasure, and her control was absolute. Her power was of such a magnitude that when she was annoyed that the populace was gossiping about her too much, in the middle of 1763, she issued a so-called Manifesto of Silence. With this, people across the empire were summoned to public squares to listen to heralds proclaim, ‘everyone should go about his own business and refrain from all useless and unseemly gossip and criticism of the government’.119 In time, she would also move to a complete control of the press. Her decree on censorship explained: In order to put an end to various inconveniences resulting from the free and unrestrained printing of books, we have deemed it necessary to issue the following orders: Censorship boards … shall be established in [all important cities]. No books written within our state may be printed without examination by one of the censorship boards. The … censorship boards will observe the same rules with regards to books brought from foreign countries. Printing house operated by private persons … shall be abolished.120

9.

The First Partition of Poland

(a) The Russian Influence In terms of foreign policy, Catherine II was not besotted with Frederick the Great like her deposed husband. However, she also had no intention of going back to war against him. The chances to succeed in this area, via the finding of a new area of common interest in which they could cooperate, were bolstered with the death of Augustus III, the King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania in early October, 1763. Augustus III left behind a country which was in an advanced state of disorder. There was no central treasury, barely a standing army (12,000 men), nine-tenths of the population lived in servitude and poverty, the monarchy was an international plaything, and the constitutional machinery was becoming increasingly gridlocked (or easier to manipulate) by the liberum veto. Catherine II realised that the best way to get what she wanted in Poland-Lithuania was to cooperate closely with Prussia. The two made a treaty of alliance in late March 1764.121 This contained the mutual promise to, inter alia, protect the Polish constitution, ‘the peace of the Republic’, and the existing elective character therein, and support a Polish candidate. The secret codicil to this agreement concluded, that if certain Poles oppose their new, ‘lawfully elected king’ by proclaiming an opposing confederation, they would jointly employ, ‘military severity against them and their lands without the slightest mercy’.122 Both Prussia and Russia then made supplementary agreements with Poland-Lithuania at the end of May,123 and then on 7 September 1764, the preferred candidate of both Russia and Prussia, Stanislaus Poniatowski (a former favourite of Catherine) was elected to be (the last) King of Poland and Grand-Duke of Lithuania. This placement, by the unanimous assent of the Polish nobles gathered at the national Sejm, was made in good view of the large Russian military camp nearby. The hope of Catherine was that Stanislaus, despite his Polish heritage, would be a good puppet for his master, much like those before him (Augustus II for Russia; Stanisław Leszczyński for Sweden and France; and finally Augustus III for Vienna and Russia).124 Once this had been achieved, Catherine II turned her attention to the Russian relationship with Denmark, with whom her former husband had been on the cusp of war. Catherine reversed Peter III’s positions in this area. Peace with Denmark was settled (in 1765 and 1767 and turned into an alliance in 1769) via diplomacy, not gunpowder. The key here was a swap of parts of disputed territory, mutual renunciations of dynastic interests in the exchanged areas, and soon thereafter, a full treaty of amity and commerce.125 As matters with Denmark were finally settled, those with Poland-Lithuania began to become much more difficult. Although the new ruler, Poniatowski, had obtained his power relatively easy, serious discontent grew in the country thereafter. The concerns were over, inter alia, the poor state of economic affairs and their inability to levy taxes on external trade (which the Prussians would not agree to), as well as Russian and Prussian attempts to create some form of religious tolerance (for the Orthodox and Protestants against the Catholic majority). The additional concern of the Polish and Lithuanian nobles about the way that the liberum veto was increasingly gridlocking a national voice. This concern resulted in a new mechanism being created in the form of Sejms that were ‘confederated’. These confederated

bodies were to be assembled, focus on single issues and be decided by majority, rather than unanimity. Before anything could happen, in October 1767 (after concluding an updated alliance with Prussia),126 Catherine deployed a Russian army to Warsaw to ensure that there was no armed rebellion or radical constitutional reform. With the Sejm that was established, the nobility were confirmed in their monopoly of political power and the liberum veto was retained. The only extension was in what she wanted, which was the granting of equal rights for other Christian groups who were not Catholics (ie, Orthodox or Protestant). All these demands were accepted domestically and then cemented into the 1768 bilateral Treaty of Warsaw with Russia. Poland even agreed that its ruler would not try to change the Constitution of the country without Russian consent.127 This agreement did not bring peace or stability. Rather, it had the complete opposite effect, forcing an actual uprising in late 1768. This rebellion in Poland followed an uprising in the Russian-occupied part of the Ukraine where mobs fought the authorities over a multitude of issues, and especially targeted those of a different religious faith (i.e. Jews, Orthodox and Protestant), of which thousands were killed.128 Although this immediate problem of religious hatred was dealt with by the Russians, a few months later, at the end of 1768, a confederation of Polish nobles was formed at Bar in Podolia. This group, stirred by a large dose of patriotism, were attempting to change the loss of control over their own country. This anger was pointed at the Russian Tsarina and their own monarch Poniatowski, who they saw as being complicit in the situation. Emerging, too, on the side lines was the growth of scholarship, both foreign and domestic, which argued that the only way that Poland was to survive and prosper in the future, was to turn itself into a modern republic and embrace many of the Enlightenment values of tolerance and freedom. Such words, and the enthusiasm of those in revolt, could do little to inspire a mass uprising or secure a victory for the Poles who were willing to fight. Cracow was retaken in late August 1768. The following years saw sporadic clashes, before the largest battle of the period, in early May 1771, saw 500 Poles killed by an overwhelming Russian force.129 (b) The Risk of a Large-scale Regional War The wider problem was that the uprising at Bar pulled the Ottomans into direct warfare with Russia. This happened as the confederacy at Bar issued strong appeals to France and Austria (with two of them having recently reconstituted their relationship),130 and the Ottomans for help. Although the French were not willing to get involved directly (but, like the Austrians, were happy to provide money and advisors), the Ottomans (with strong French persuasion) were willing to push their soldiers to the outer point of their frontiers and tell them to make ready. The spark for the fire that followed happened soon after in early October 1768 when some Russian auxiliaries (and Ukrainian irregulars) pursued some Polish soldiers/dissidents who were seeking sanctuary in the small town of Balta in Podolia, into the territories of the

Tatar khan, an Ottoman vassal. Although the Russians tried to deny responsibility, Sultan Mustafa III demanded not only that all Russian and associated troops be removed from Turkish territory, but also, from all of Poland-Lithuania. When the Russian ambassador refused to even communicate this demand to Saint Petersburg, the Ottomans had him locked up, thus, starting the next war between Russia and the Ottoman Empire. The Ottomans did this thinking that they could get Austria to join them against Russia. Austria was to be paid in money and territory, if it would help defend the territorial integrity of the Ottoman Empire.131 The Holy Roman Empress Maria Theresa had to think very carefully about what was going to happen next, as the risk of a large regional war breaking out was quite possible. Upon close reflection, she refused to accept the Ottoman offer to fight Russia, and left the Ottomans to fight (and lose) to the Russians alone. Her decision was to move Austrian forces, unilaterally, into Poland and take 13 towns in the Spisz region under the pretext that the areas were former dependencies of Russia, and the border needed to be secured. Seeing this, the King of Prussia, Frederick the Great argued that it was now necessary for him to take two areas, namely Lauenburg and Butow. Frederick did this, explaining: I do not see any other means of assuring the preservation of the balance than my imitating the example that the court of Vienna has given me, and, like her, … putting myself in possession of some little province of Poland.132

Catherine, seeing what Austria and Prussia were both doing, responded by reaffirming her treaty of alliance with Prussia,133 and then directing thousands of Russian troops into PolandLithuania.134 (c) The Easier Alternative With all this volatile powder in the mix, the chances of all of them, Prussia, Russia, Austria, – and the Ottomans – exploding in Poland-Lithuania was very high. The solution which emerged late 1768, was that rather than the three sides (Austria, Russia and Prussia) falling into conflict with each other and fighting in a foreign land, they should rationally, peacefully – and cynically – divide up the foreign territory in advance, without any bloodshed. This option presented a much easier prey, than say, the Ottoman Empire, which fought tooth and nail for every piece of territory it lost. The acceptance of this plan took four years to gestate, during which time Catherine the Great was busy fighting the Ottoman Empire. Catherine came to accept the principle of taking and dividing up a large chunk of Poland-Lithuania, believing that this was necessary as, despite her favourite, Poniatowski, being the monarch of Poland-Lithuania, his control over the region was slipping. Prussia went along with the idea, because it was seen as a way to make Russia happy, while also getting a large bite of someone else’s territory before someone else did. Frederick justified his forthcoming share as a way, ‘to prevent the balance from being tipped too far to the Austrian side’.135 The last person to accept the idea was the Holy Roman Empress, Maria Theresa. She saw the proposal as a repugnant act in support of ‘two unjust usurpers’.136 She hated Frederick

because of his taking of Silesia and his Protestant faith, and she hated Catherine for her liberal lifestyle and her embracing of the Orthodox faith. However, she came to change her mind and accept the division of (fellow-Catholic) Poland-Lithuania, because she believed it was now necessary in the circumstances. To her mind, the division was necessary to avoid another war with Prussia and Russia, and because it would be wrong for Austria to be left out of the division of any spoils.137 The First Partition of Poland, as cast in a series of Declarations between Russia, Austria and Prussia was signed in Vienna in February of 1772.138 It was supplemented by a combination of 15 separate treaties, spanning from 1772 to 1776.139 The initial deal, between Russia and Prussia, explained that their intervention into Poland was necessary because of: The spirit of faction, turmoil and civil war that has been agitating the Kingdom of Poland for so many years, and the anarchy which everyday gathers there new forces to the point of annihilating all the authority of a regular government, causing justified fears of a forthcoming decomposition of the state …140

With this pretext, in August 1772, Russian, Prussian and Austrian troops all entered the Commonwealth of Poland-Lithuania. Although there were several battles as the Commonwealth troops refused to lay down their arms, the 18,500 of these men who had been assembled were rapidly subsumed by the tens of thousands of invaders. Despite appeals to the outside world, the rest of Europe looked on with indifference. The only country which bothered to protest was Spain, while a few philosophers, like Voltaire, praised both Russia and Prussia for their efforts.141 Once subdued, this first division of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth saw it lose about 30 per cent of its territory and half of its population. Of this, Russia received 12.7 per cent of the territory (east of the Dvina, Drut and Dnieper rivers) and 1.3 million people. Austria received the second largest slice of territory, at 11.8 per cent of the territory (including the rich salt mines) with 2.1 million people. Frederick received the smallest section of northwest Poland (Polish Royal Prussia) which amounted to about 5 per cent of the Commonwealth, but what he got was wealthy and developed (responsible for about 80 per cent of the revenue of the Commonwealth), including the coastal zone around Danzig with 580,000 citizens.142 In addition to the division, it was also agreed that as a method for the ‘reestablishment of peace and good order in the interior of Poland’ that Catherine II would, ‘act in common accord and perfect concert’143 with the court of Warsaw. In practice, this meant that she was to have the final say on all matters of substance. Although King Stanislaus Poniatowski objected in private to Russia, Austria and Prussia that the deal was ‘unjust, violent and contrary to his legitimate rights’,144 he accepted the deal and forwarded it to the Sejm for ratification. Initially, this proved problematic as there was some dissent to what was occurring. However, rather than allow the liberum veto to delay proceedings, on 18 September 1773, those present at the Sejm transformed themselves into a confederation, by which a majority (not a unanimous) decision could resolve the matter. With this decision-making tool in place, the so-called Partition Sejm signed the treaty of cession, renouncing all claims to the territories now occupied by Russia, Austria and

Prussia. Once the Sejm agreed it, the treaty was ratified by all three aggressors, Russia, Prussia and Austria, on the same day.145

10.

Rebellions against Serfdom

Serfs were a class of people that were common throughout eastern Europe. Although pockets of serfs existed in some western countries until the turn of the nineteenth century, they were a small minority, as opposed to their more common cousins, peasants. Serfs were held in perpetual bondage to the land, as part and parcel of an estate. Conversely, peasants were not attached to the land that someone else owned. In each country, the roots of feudalism, economic progress and political liberty were different. This meant that countries tended to have a balance between serfs and peasants, rather than an all-or-nothing outcome. While peasants tended to be the pattern in western Europe, in eastern Europe, serfdom was much more common.146 Serfs were different to slaves because they could not (in theory) be sold separately to the land to which they were bonded. Although they could not be sold, they could not move location, marry, or take different employment, without the consent of the landlord. In addition, the serf often owed cash and/or labour to the landlord, meaning they had to work without remuneration. This labour which could be demanded was known as the robot. Failure to provide any of these obligations, in turn, gave the landlord the right to discipline the serf in question. However, unlike with slaves, the obligation to work was not total. That is, they only had to provide free labour for some of their time (roughly between two to five days per week depending on which country the serf was in). The obligation was not meant to take up 100 per cent of their time and Sundays, at least, were meant to be free. In addition, unlike slaves, serfs also had some rights. These included an expectation that the landlord would help look after them when they were sick; a right to appeal to some type of government official to ensure they were being treated fairly, and, in some places, exemption from some types of tax. These considerations were such that in certain extreme situations, some free (and deeply impoverished) peasants would sell themselves into the bondage of serfdom, finding serfdom preferable to the poverty of freedom.147 (a) Pugachev Serfdom in Russia was particularly harsh. From 1736, nobles were given the right to determine for themselves the punishment inflicted upon their runaway serfs, unfortunate enough to be caught. This gave serf-masters (in both Russia and Poland-Lithuania) life-anddeath control over their recaptured serfs. In the 1760s, serf owners were given the rights to settle all criminal cases for serfs and impose corporal punishment on them. This meant that all of those who disobeyed orders, were lazy, drunk, stole, or resisted authority could be beaten and whipped, and even exiled to hard labour in Siberia. The landlord could even conscript them for military service, make them do all sorts of work (including sex work), and

even sell them apart from the land to which they were attached, with serfs being advertised for sale up until the end of the eighteenth century in Russia. What all this added up to was a worsening of conditions for the 10 million or so serfs in Russia (as held by the state, church and private individuals). Russia also exported its own extreme versions of serfdom to peasants in conquered lands.148 Tsarina Catherine II, who began on quite an enlightened path was, initially concerned about the conditions of the serfs in Russia. Accordingly, she sought to minimise the impact of the bondage rules upon this class of people. Although Catherine was not prepared to emancipate serfs in Russia, she did ensure that the plots of land given to serfs were adequate in size, and that the dues exacted from them in the form of money or labour were not excessive. On 8 August 1762, she issued a decree forbidding owners of factories and mines from purchasing serfs for industrial work, while those already working in this type of industry would have to be paid wages. Catherine adopted this position, partly out of humanitarian impulse, but also self-interest, as, ‘if we do not agree to the diminution of cruelty and the amelioration of the intolerable position of the human species, then, even against our will, they themselves will seize it sooner or later’.149 Catherine’s thinking was correct, which she found out quickly, as her enlightened action backfired. On hearing news of this new law, serfs in the Urals and along the Volga promptly laid down their tools and went on strike, hoping for better conditions in the future. The result was that the military had to be sent in to restart the serfs in their labour. Catherine, shocked by what had happened, then published decrees, ‘to protect the landlords in their estates and possessions inviolably and to keep the peasants in their proper submission to them’.150 In 1765, she went further, enabling estate owners to send serfs into forced labour in Serbia (without recourse to the courts) and, in 1767, her Senate passed a decree prohibiting complaints by serfs to state authorities. Those who attempted to complain thereafter, would be beaten and deported to a place where penal servitude awaited them. The latter explained: The governing Senate … has deemed it necessary to make known that the serfs and peasants owe their landlords proper submission and absolute obedience in all matters … all persons who dare to incite serfs and peasants to disobey their landlords shall be arrested and punished. [If any serfs] … should make bold to submit unlawful petitions complaining of their landlords … they shall be punished with the knout [i.e. whip] and deported to [Siberia] to penal servitude for life.151

The large scale violent reaction of these policies occurred in Russia in 1773. This revolt was led by Yemelyan Pugachev, a Don Cossack, who told everyone that he was, in fact, the notdead husband of Catherine II, Peter III. His decree from 17 September 1773, identified himself as Peter, the ‘great sovereign … of all Russia’ and he called upon all Ural Cossacks to, ‘serve me the great sovereign and emperor for the good of the fatherland’.152 Such thefts of famous identities were not new, and somewhat easier in an age when few had even the slightest idea what the short-lived Peter III actually looked like. With this gap in knowledge, Pugachev claimed the pulling power of a betrayed husband of deep noble birth and began to link every social, cultural and religious group with a grievance against the power-holders in the Russian state, and Catherine II in particular. His starting point was the refusal of the government to satisfy the demands of some starving Cossack fisherman in the Urals. In the

conflict that followed, and which burned until early 1775, some 20,000 locals would be killed by Pugachev’s forces, as opposed to, perhaps, half of that number of nobles, government or religious officials.153 Pugachev’s forces were a polyglot group who had little in common, except their hatred of an individual or a certain institution in Russia. This entirely home-grown group (there was no evidence of external assistance) had, at is core, Cossacks who wanted autonomy from Russia. This force was then layered with military deserters, disgruntled serfs and religious dissenters including Old Believers and even Muslims. To these people, Pugachev promised, inter alia: Freedom from recruiting levies, the [poll] tax, and other monetary taxes; we confer likewise the ownership of lands, forests, hayfields, fisheries and lakes without purchase or rent; and we free the peasants and all people from the taxes and oppression formerly imposed by the villainous nobles and the venal city judges.154

He also promised respect for traditional ways (in terms of dress and facial hair being permitted), respect for all religious forms (not just the Orthodox faith), as well as forgiveness for previous crimes committed. Free assistance in terms of both tools and food was also part of his manifesto, as was a commitment to, ‘seize, execute and hang all the landlords’.155 The counter-argument that Catherine the Great issued, as to why it was necessary to fight Pugachev was that he was raising arms against legal authority, destroying Churches and holy sites, and – obviously – that he was not her dead husband Peter III, but an imposter. To Catherine, these rebels were nothing more than brigands, thieves and murderers, crude and uneducated opportunists. They were an illegitimate, godless madness that threatened the traditions, order and stability of Russia.156 Pugachev’s first major action was in November 1772 when he and 3,000 supporters captured Fort Tatischev and its 1,400 defenders were put to the sword. Such successes brought fresh recruits, and his ranks began to swell. However, when Pugachev tried to stop the relief force reaching Fort Tatischev the following year, 2,000 (of his 9,000) supporters were defeated and he fled. Undeterred, he reassembled what forces he could, and with 7,000 men, marched on and captured the strategically important city of Kazan on the Volga, albeit at a cost of 3,000 rebels. This success for Pugachev managed to turn a local revolt into what looked like a national revolution, as thousands more flocked to his banner. The impact was that a wave of inhumane and indiscriminate violence swept down the west bank of the Volga river, in which dozens of religious institutions, government offices, and wealthy landowners, were attacked (and over 2,800 civilians were killed). This surge only came to an end when the Russian war with the Ottomans came to an end and Catherine was now able to redeploy substantial numbers of troops. These forces then surrounded Pugachev on 24 August and defeated him at the battle of Orenburg, during which a third of his force of 6,000 men were slain. Soon after, on 15 September 1774, Pugachev was captured at Yaitsk on the Yaik river by his own men, where, in an attempt to save their own skins, they passed him to the Russian authorities. He was taken to Moscow in a cage, tried (in secret at the Kremlin), and executed on 10 January 1775.157 Although Catherine, in an attempt to calm the situation, offered an amnesty on 17 March, 1775 to all those involved in the uprising, few of the nobility shared her belief in restraint or forgiveness. The revolt was crushed with such force that this was the last time until the

overthrow of the Russian monarchy in the twentieth century, that serfs, peasants and Cossacks were to stand together against the Russian Crown. (b) Revolts in the Holy Roman Empire Russia was not the only country to struggle with serf rebellions in this period. The same issue was also apparent, repeatedly presenting itself, within parts of the Holy Roman Empire. Of note, in 1680 a large rebellion occurred in northern Bohemia, after which Emperor Leopold increased the rights of serfs (restricting serf labour to three days per week, forbidding innovations in demands that could be asked of the serfs and confirmed the peasant’s right of appeal to the crown through its officials). Following the next major uprising in 1711, the next Emperor, Charles VI, softened some of these rules, allowing landlords to increase the obligations on their serfs. In the coming decades, there were further serf revolts in Transylvania (1751 and 1759), Hungary (1753), Slavonia (1755), Eisenburg (1762, 1765) and lastly, in Silesia (1766), all of which prompted the Holy Roman Empress, Maria Theresa, to act. Out of reasons of self-interest (fearing further revolts otherwise) and goals to increase agricultural productivity, she restricted the feudal dues and the maximum number of days that a serf could be required to work for free for their landlord.158 These efforts did not reduce tension. In the spring of 1775 another peasant revolt occurred, with 15,000 marching towards Prague, burning homes, intimidating stewards and demanding the abolition of the robot. This was only subdued with the weight of tens of thousands of soldiers. These men had to be quartered in the region for a further two years, until it was felt safe enough for them to leave.159 Emperor Joseph II went even further in terms of reforms. With his enlightened absolutism, and with reasons ranging from ethics to improved economic performance, he formally freed the serfs from the lands of the Austrian and Bohemian areas in 1781 (and afterwards in in Transylvania and Hungary). He provided them with legal assistance; and gave them, inter alia, freedom of marriage, freedom of movement, freedom of choice of work – all now possible without the consent of the landlord. He also mandated a maximum of three days’ work per week for a landlord. However, as Joseph was trying to improve the lot of the poorest citizens in his realm, the reforms were not sufficient, and the serfs and peasants of Transylvania rebelled in 1784. This revolt would consume some 4,000 people before it was subdued in early 1785, by the troops of a reluctant Emperor.160 This revolt was such that all reforms in this area slowed, and when the next emperor, Leopold II, came to power in 1790, the progress was reversed. Many of the initiatives of Joseph were pushed to one side, and, in some instances, serfs that had been freed (as in Bohemia) were forced back into servitude and were still obliged to do a set amount of work for the landlord each week, without recompense. These bonds of serfdom remained until the revolution of 1848.161

11.

The Almost War of Bavarian Succession

The War of the Bavarian Succession was another dynastic squabble as the Bavarian line of the Wittelsbachs became extinct at the end of 1777. This meant that about one-third of Bavaria was up for grabs. Although the succession of this was to go to Charles Theodore who had no legitimate children, there were fears that Austria and Prussia which had different claims to the region, could, upon the death of Theodore, come to blows. This risk came close when the Austrians acted first, when they were made aware that Charles Theodore would happily sell large parts of his inheritance, in exchange for titles and money for his illegitimate children. The Prussians, who had recently renewed their treaty of alliance with Russia,162 pushed 172,000 of their soldiers (including Saxon auxiliaries) into the region. These soldiers opposed 128,000 Austrians (including auxiliaries from the Palatine).163 The good news was that aside some low-scale raiding and skirmishing, the two armies managed to avoid colliding and large-scale blood-letting did not occur because the two sides decided to settle the matter peacefully. France had made it clear it would not support Austria over this claim, and Russia made a similar renunciation to Prussia. Accordingly, rather than risk another all-out-war, the two sides decided to settle their differences (as well as those of their auxiliaries) via the Treaty of Teschen, which was concluded in March 1779.164 The solution was simple: Austria received one part of Bavaria, but abandoned claims to the other third of the electorate, while Ansbach and Bayreuth were to go to Prussia. In addition, the Prussian-linked claimant to the region would receive financial compensation for the loss of his dynastical links in Bavaria.165

12.

The Second Partition of Poland

After reminding themselves of how much easier it was to obtain additional territory by strategic cooperation, the Russians, Austrians and Prussians, then doubled down on their existing relationships. This occurred in 1781, when Russia entrenched a good working relationship with Prussia166 and a defensive alliance with Austria167 (sweetened with a new commercial relationship in 1785),168 and even reconfirmed their friendship with Denmark.169 This mix worked very well for Catherine, who then went onto defeat both Sweden and the Ottoman Empire, which she fought in 1787 and 1788. Peace was made with Sweden in the August of 1790, and then the Ottomans at the end of 1791. As Russia and Austria were deep in war with the Ottomans, a number of Poles saw their chance to make a change, to which a new, confederated Sejm was established. This sat for four years (refusing to go into recess) before unveiling a new constitution, on 3 May 1791. The new Constitution of Poland-Lithuania was revealed on a day selected by the Polish King, Poniatowski, when he knew the forum would be near empty, making its adoption by majority relatively easy. The explanatory bill, read out to the chamber explained: Freed from our shameful coercion of foreign orders, and cognizant of the ancient faults of our system of government, and valuing national independence and freedom over life itself … We pass the following statute in recognition that the fate of all depends exclusively on the foundations and perfection of a national constitution.170

The constitution reflected the ideas of the age. It abolished the elective monarchy that had, for a long time, allowed them to be manipulated by foreign countries. It was to be replaced with a hereditary kingship. There was also, following the American example, to be a clear division between the three powers of the legislature, the executive and the judiciary. Henceforth, the Senate was to be decided by a majority of votes, and the liberum veto – the tool which had prevented progress in so many areas – was to be abolished. While some of the former oligarchs were satisfied with seats in the Senate, most lost their direct political power. Simultaneously, liberal reforms abolishing feudal practices such as serfdom (which was replaced with work for wages) were introduced. Religious tolerance was also mandated, and the army to protect the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth was to be increased to 100,000 men.171 Accompanying the new constitution, in late March 1791, the Poles signed a treaty of friendship and alliance with Prussia.172 When the Russians learned of this, they solidified their friendship with Sweden (so they could not be attacked from the other side, again),173 and then in early July of the following year they renewed their alliance with Austria (which secretly covered the possibility of an attack by Prussia),174 before reconciling with the Prussians, at the end of July, with their treaty of alliance.175 With Sweden, Austria and Prussia where she wanted them to be, Catherine II again moved her soldiers into Poland-Lithuania. She did this because she was annoyed that the Poles had acted so independently with the creation of their new constitution, and uprooted the agreement and understandings settled in 1772 after the first partition of Poland-Lithuania. She also feared that revolutionaries, inspired by events that were unfolding at that point in France, were seeding in Poland-Lithuania. The result of her anger was that within six weeks of making peace with the Ottomans, in 1792, she sent a Russian army of 65,000 men into Poland-Lithuania. Prussia, rather than springing to the defence of Poland as many Poles assumed would happen because of their 1790 alliance – went in the other direction. That is, Prussia agreed with Russia, that dangerous revolutionaries were lurking in Poland-Lithuania, and as such, failed to condemn the Russian actions as Catherine’s troops swarmed over the Polish countryside.176 Catherine, by then believing that she was entitled to obtain, ‘satisfaction and compensation for the great losses’ which Russia had ‘suffered’ in this operation, suggested it would be appropriate for Russia to ‘take under her power and incorporate into her empire’177 a further number of provinces. This arrangement, given additional legitimacy by being treatybound with Prussia, was concluded on 23 January 1793. This explained: The troubles which shake Europe in the wake of the deadly Revolution that has occurred in France present the aspect of an imminent and universal danger in the growth and extension of which they appear liable … they [Russia and Prussia] have cause for concern, for they have seen definitive indications that this same spirit of dangerous rebellion and innovation which at present reigns in France is on the verge of breaking out in the Kingdom of Poland … [accordingly, for the purposes of] protecting their subjects from effects of an evil and often contagious example [they agreed to intervene] … to repress and contain … any rebellion or other trouble which might arise in Poland.178

With this second partition of Poland, not only was the 1791 Constitution annulled, a further third of their territory was sequestered, with Russia getting the lion’s share. This meant

taking not only the whole of the Polish Ukraine, but also areas of Minsk and Vilna. The thinking was that since the Russians had done the majority of the work, they deserved the largest share of the spoils. This deal was then confirmed by the carefully controlled Sejm meeting at Grodno at the end of 1793.179 Despite Russia signing an alliance with Poland in 1793,180 the overall feeling was one of anger against the countries that kept taking bits of Polish-Lithuanian territory, and also one of opportunity, as the flames of the French Revolution burned brightly on the horizon. The result was a significant national uprising began in 1794. Under the banner of ‘liberty, [territorial] integrity, independence’,181 the revolt was led by Tadeusz Kosciuszko, who had earlier fought in the American War of Independence. Insurrection first broke out in Cracow, when the Russians tried to arrest several conspirators. These attempts were failures as riotous crowds drove the Russian soldiers back in an actual battle at Raclawice, followed by the ejection of the Russians from Warsaw and Vilnius. Their hopes that revolutionary France would come to their aid were dashed when the French refused to help on the grounds that the Polish uprising was aristocratic at base, and did not seek full emancipation of all of its citizens.182 Without external support, the victories the Poles and Lithuanians achieved only lasted as long as it took for the Russians to reorganise themselves and reclaim the lost areas. By the end of the year, and despite mustering fielding armies in the range of 20,000 men, they were getting progressively bloodied by the Russians and their Prussian allies, who always had more troops. The losses of note were 2,000 casualties at Krupshchitse; 4,000 at Kosciuszko, while at Warsaw 13,000 defenders and 7,000 non-combatants died, before the city surrendered on 18 November 1794.183

13.

The End of the Commonwealth of Poland-Lithuania

Following the 1794 uprising, the partitioning powers (including Austria, even though they had not been involved in the recent actions of suppression), seeing the increasing unrest in the remaining commonwealth and the deepening war with revolutionary France, decided to solve the problem of another insurrection sparking up from the ashes of the last one, by simply erasing any independent Polish-Lithuania state from the map. On 24 October 1795 their representatives signed a treaty, dividing the remaining territories of the Commonwealth between their three countries. This was done ‘to find a more perfect and final accord concerning the stipulations contained’ in the Second Partition and to ‘fix more precisely the limits that are to separate the respective states’.184 This final agreement made no attempt to rationalise the cutting up of Poland-Lithuania. That justification was made in a declaration issued by the Russian court to the Austrian government in early January 1795. This explained that Catherine II: [H]as been obliged to take measure for the repression and extinction of the revolt and insurrection which have broken out in Poland the results of which are bound to be most pernicious and dangerous to the tranquility of the Powers neighboring this state.

To ensure that such events did not recur, Catherine then proposed to Austria and Prussia that: [F]or preventing the recurrences of disturbances like those which had given her such a justifiable alarm, the seeds of which, for ever stirring in minds thoroughly permeated with the most perverse principles, would not fail to germinate afresh sooner or later, if precautions were not taken by a strong and vigorous government … [accordingly] … it was absolutely necessary to resort and proceed to a total partition of this Republic between the three neighboring Powers.185

In the arrangement that followed, Prussia absorbed a further 1 million Polish subjects and the city of Warsaw; Austria about 1 million and the city of Cracow; while Russia took an additional 1.2 million subjects with most of the Lithuania area. Some specific areas, like Courland (as well as Semigallia and the Circle of Pilten), just to ensure there were no lingering questions, explicitly renounced Polish overlordship and formerly transferred their allegiance to Russia.186 The Republic’s affairs were wound up in a convention concluded at St Petersburg in January 1797, which recorded the abdication (at the end of November 1795) of their king, Stanislaus Poniatowski, and the final division of territory. A secret and separate article provided for the permanent suppression of the name of Poland: In view of the necessity to abolish everything which could revive the memory of the existence of the Kingdom of Poland, now that the annulment of this body politic has been effected … the high contracting parties are agreed and undertake never to include in their titles … the name or designation of the Kingdom of Poland, which shall remain suppressed as from the present and forever.187

14.

Paul I

Paul I was the son of Peter III and Catherine the Great. He became the Tsar on 17 November 1796, after the death of his mother. At the domestic level, he was convinced that a great deal of laxity had crept into the Russian system. To help solve this problem, he sought to impose tighter discipline in the civil service, called for the rigid centralisation of authority, the reorganisation of the Senate, and the simplification of local government. He also established new schools of government and medicine.188 At the international level, he desired to bring Russia to the forefront of European affairs. Of note, he drove Russia into the wars of the French Revolution, which his mother had previously avoided. Before this deep dive into the French Revolution occurred, Paul had been carefully situating himself in matters of interest in western Europe. Of note, in early 1797, he was to become patron and protector of the Knights of Malta.189 He then proceeded to settle outstanding issues of debt (related to Poland-Lithuania) with Prussia,190 thus reducing tensions with that partner, and enhanced the commercial relationship with Britain.191 When Napoleon took Malta, Tsar Paul I had reason to go to war against the French. By the end of 1798, he had formed a military alliance with Britain,192 and then as the French forces invaded Egypt, in a reversal of hundred years of antagonism, Paul I contracted Russia’s first defensive alliance with the Ottomans on 23 December, 1798.193 Then, in a

further impressive display of diplomacy, to ensure that some of the recent French peace deals would not turn on him, Paul went on to strike defensive alliances with Portugal194 and Sweden.195

15.

Conclusion

For the period of this book, the territories of eastern and northern Europe were very dangerous places. Some countries became great (like Russia), others lost their status (like Sweden) and some were forcibly dissected (like Poland-Lithuania) and disappeared from history. These results were due to five considerations which were somewhat unique in this part of the world. First, warfare on considerations of the Enlightenment, such as to end feudalism, did not make significant progress in all parts. That is, while uprisings against serfdom occurred throughout the region, in Habsburg Austria the trend was towards its abolition, while in Russia (once the uprising was defeated), the trend was towards its entrenchment. Second, although there was considerable overlap, as a generalisation, the wars of north and eastern Europe did not co-mingle with those of western Europe. This meant that although the First and Second Northern Wars were terrible events, they could have been worse had they become linked to the western conflicts, such as the War of the Spanish Succession. Similarly, the linkage did not develop in the War of Austrian Succession, but it did in the Seven Years War. As it was, this conflict largely only came to an end because Russia exited due to the death of its ruler. Those who followed (Peter III and then Catherine the Great) sought to steer Russia away from such European entanglements. This meant, again, that the co-mingling of conflicts between west and east, did not really recur until the French Revolution. Third, although there were always hotbeds of embers in which disgruntled populations could rise up in their quests for autonomy, the various leaders, increasingly, learned how to deal with these difficulties. This was possible because as much as the various countries of the region often hated each other, they were still able to pull together when a greater collective threat – the Ottomans – could overshadow them all. When the greater threat presented itself, the opposing belligerents could cooperate, divide and control troublesome regions. The exception to this was with Sweden, which hated Russia so much, it was willing to form deep relationships with the Ottomans, to fight their foremost foe. Fourth, this was not an area of republics or constitutional monarchs. Rather, very strong rulers personified the countries in this region. The most autocratic of all, despite a few glimpses of constitutional moderation, was always Russia. Austria and Prussia, were (despite their moments of enlightened rule), absolute. The middle ground, Sweden, swung between periods of absolutism and constitutional restraint. The worst, the King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania, tried to govern a ship which increasingly became a vessel without its own rudder. This allowed it to be manipulated both domestically and internationally, making it a regional plaything, over which conflicts would be fought throughout distant parts of Europe in the 1730s.

Fifth, the goals of the warfare were extreme, in that, often, the very existence of countries were at stake. That is, in most of the other conflicts of the period, especially with the larger players, the goal was to defeat them, and take some of their provinces or overseas colonies. It was rare that actual dismemberment was the plan. Although this was the plan in some of the wars of Louis XIV, the War of the Spanish Succession, and also the Seven Years War (with the target of Prussia), this extreme ruthlessness was more common in the wars of east and northern Europe. In this part of the world, war in which nations faced absolute destruction was more common than in the west. Here, both Denmark and Sweden were lucky to have survived as ongoing realms at various points in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Where the luck ran out in the second half of the eighteenth century was with PolandLithuania. This land was divided by Orthodox Russia, Catholic Austria and Protestant Prussia, in three separate subdivisions. The genius of their three repeated actions was that they each realised they could acquire more territory for themselves by cooperating with countries they disliked, and by focusing on a weak third party, than going head to head with an equally strong belligerent. Although each intervention and digestion had its reasons (religious toleration; prevention of a strong, modern and independent Poland-Lithuania; and stopping the spread of the ideology of the French Revolution); the mechanism that spun the three countries into action, developed its own internal momentum. That is, even when one of three had reservations about taking a further bite of Poland-Lithuania, they overcame their reservations for two reasons. First, there was a fear that if they did not cooperate and consume together, the others would get an unfair share of the spoils. Second, strongly autocratic Russia, Prussia and Austria all shared the same objective of ensuring that the seeds of enlightenment that were bursting forth with the French Revolution, did not seed near them.

1 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 349; Stevens, C (2007). Russia’s Wars of Emergence, 1460–1730. (Pearson, London). 147–50, 165–67. 2 Baidaus, E (2012). ‘War, Diplomacy and Family Affairs in Seventeenth Century Eastern Europe’. Canadian Slavonic Papers. 54(1):27–41; Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 351– 53. 3 See Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 247. Also, Kivelson, V (1993). ‘The Tsar and the 1648 Moscow Uprising’. The American Historical Review. 98(3): 733; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 75. 4 The ‘Terms of Acceptance of the Zaporozhian Host’. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 300–2. 5 Morfell, W (2014). ‘The Two Precursors of Peter, Michael and Alexis’. Russia, China and Eurasia. 30(5): 539–58; Nussbaum, F (1953). The Triumph of Science and Reason, 1660–1685 (Harper, NYC). 234. 6 See Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, Harlow). 168–69. 7 See the Treaty between Sweden and Brandenburg, as in 4 Consolidated Treaty Series 31 and 101; the Swedish Treaty with England is 4 CTS 127. The Russia and Brandenburg Treaty is 4 CTS 175. 8 See the 1655 Articles of Peace between the Polish Palatinates and Sweden, 3 CTS 437. Also with the Polish militia, at 3 CTS 507. 9 Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I 353.

10 The Truce with Russia and Poland is at 4 CTS 181. 11 For the two peace agreements, with Brandenburg, 4 CTS 211; and Transylvania 4 CTS 435. 12 See the Treaty of Alliance between Denmark and Poland, as in 4 CTS 409; Carsten, F. (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 535. See also pp 370–75, 430–31, 522, 565–66. On the powers of the Danish king, see Ekman, E (1957). ‘The Danish Royal Law of 1665’. The Journal of Modern History 29(2): 102–7; Munck, T (1998). ‘Absolute Monarchy in Later Eighteenth Century Denmark’. The Historical Journal. 41(1): 201–24. 13 See the 1657 Treaty between the King of Hungary and the King of Poland, as in 4 CTS 375. See generally, Curtis, (2013) The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 154, 163–64. 14 See the Treaty between Poland and Brandenburg, at 4 CTS 415. Also, Hagen, W (1989). ‘Seventeenth Century Crisis in Brandenburg: The Rise of Absolutism’. The American Historical Review. 94(2): 302––35; Frost, R (1986). ‘John Casimir and Monarchical Power in Poland-Lithuania’. European History Quarterly. 16(2): 181–207. 15 Trobest, S (1994). ‘Debating the Mercantile Background to Early Modern Swedish Empire Building’. European History Quarterly. 24(4): 485–509; Pernal, A (1983). ‘The Initial Step towards the Union of Hadiach’. Canadian Slavonic Papers. 25(2): 284–300. 16 See the 1658 Treaty of Peace between Sweden and Denmark, 5 CTS 1. 17 Pufendorf, S. (1682). On the Duty of Man & Citizen According to Natural Law). (Oxford University Press. Oxford. 1927). 126–27, 162. Also, Persson, F (2016). ‘From Vanguard to Rearguard: The Swedish Court as a Motor of Change in the 17th Century’. The Court Historian. 21(2): 109–24; Saastamoinen, K (2010). ‘Pufendorf on Natural Equality, Human Dignity and Self Esteem’. Journal on the History of Ideas. 71(1): 39–62; Hallenberg, M (2008). ‘State Formation as a Dynamic Process: The Swedish Example, 1523–1680’. The Scandinavian Journal of History. 33(3): 247–68. 18 The 1660 Treaty between Poland, the Empire, Brandenburg and Sweden at 6 CTS 9. 19 This language is from the Treaty of Wehlau, as in Macartney, C (ed.) The Habsburg and Hohenzollern Dynasties. (Harper, NYC, 1970). 242. 20 Article 35 of the 1660 Peace of Oliva, as reprinted in Reddaway, ibid. II: 145–46. 21 The Treaty of Copenhagen is in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 146. 22 The 1661 Treaty between Sweden and Russia is in 6 CTS 353. 23 Gillespie, A (2017) The Causes of War (Oxford, Hart) Volume III: 185–199. 24 See the 1660 Treaty between Poland and the Cossacks, as in 6 CTS 203. 25 See the 1667 Article of Peace between Poland and Tartary, 10 CTS 341. Also, Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, Harlow). 185–88. 26 The Truce between Poland and Russia, as in 9 CTS 399. 27 The 1670 Articles of Peace between Poland and Russia are in 11 CTS 289. Note also 12 CTS 185, and for 1678 14 CTS 425. 28 See the 1670 Edict Concerning Stephan Razin, as reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven). II: 233. Also, Kazakov, G (2017). ‘Stenka Razin as a Hero, Noble Bandit or a Criminal’. Jahrbucher fur Geschichte Osteuropas. 65(1): 34–51. 29 See pages 371–373. 30 The 1686 ‘Peace Treaty with Poland’ is reprinted in Verbadsky, ibid, II: 305. 31 Lewitter, L (1964). ‘The Russo-Polish Treaty of 1686’. The Polish Review. 9(3): 5–29. 32 See the Defensive Treaty between Denmark and Sweden, 19 CTS 25. Also, the Treaty of Altona, as at 18 CTS 407. 33 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 90; Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, Harlow). 228; Krieger, L (1970) Kings and Philosophers, 1689– 1798. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 41–43. 34 Akelev, E (2016). ‘Lawmaking, Resistance and Mutual Adaptation During Peter the Great’s Cultural Reforms’. Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History. 17(2): 241–75; Ostroswki, D (2002). ‘The Façade of Legitimacy: Exchange

of Power and Authority in Early Modern Russia’. Comparative Studies in Society and History. 44(3): 534–63. 35 Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 371. 36 See the Confirmation of the Alliance between Sweden and the Netherlands, at 22 CTS 111. That with Britain (and the United Provinces) is at 22 CTS 159. With France, see 22 CTS 173. 37 See the 1698 Renewal of the Defensive Alliance between Denmark and Sweden, at 22 CTS 207. 38 The 1698 Defensive Alliance between Denmark and Saxony-Poland, as in 22 CTS 127. 39 The 1699 Danish alliance with Russia is at 22 CTS 357. With Poland 22 CTS 373; with Munster 22 CTS 387; and with Brandenburg 22 CTS 409. 40 This quote is in Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random, NYC). 301. For the propaganda of the period, see Piirimae, P (2007). ‘Russia, the Turks and Europe: Legitimations of War and the Formation of European Identity in the Early Modern Period’. Journal of Early Modern History 11(1): 63–86. 41 See the 1700 Treaty of Peace between Denmark and Gottorp. This is in 23 CTS 81. 42 For the Danish treaties with England and the United Provinces, see 23 CTS 191, 337 and 353. For comment, Bromley, J (ed). The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 403, 654-655. 43 Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, London). 229–30, 272–76; Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random, NYC). 332–36, 348, 397. 44 See the Treaty of Alliance between Sweden and Prussia, as at 24 CTS 451. That with Brunswick is at 25 CTS 69. 45 Charles XII, as noted in Wolf, J (1951). The Emergence of the Great Powers, 1685–1715. (Harper, NYC). 58. Also, Waliszewski, K (2013). ‘From Narva to Poltava’. Russia, China and Eurasia. 29(5): 365–96. 46 Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random, NYC). 400. 47 The 1705 Treaty of Perpetual Alliance between Poland and Sweden, as in 25 CTS 351. 48 Ibid, art 2(4). 49 Ibid, art 2(3). 50 Ibid, art 3(1). 51 See the 1704 Articles of Alliance between Poland and Russia, as in 25 CTS 147. 52 Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, Harlow). 269. 53 The 1706 Treaty of Peace between Poland and Sweden is in 25 CTS 475. Also, Stevens, C (2007). Russia’s Wars of Emergence, 1460–1730. (Pearson, Harlow) 225–227; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 190–91. 54 See the 1707 Treaty of Alliance between Prussia and Sweden, as in 26 CTS 121. Note also, that with the Emperor, 26 CTS 293. 55 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 90. 56 Peter, as quoted in Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random House, NYC). 424. Also pp 405, 439, 452, 463 and 524 57 See Peter’s ‘Proclamation to All the People of Little Russia, 1708’. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven). II: 331. Also, Prymak, T (2012). ‘Voltaire on Mazepa and Early Eighteenth Century Ukraine’. Canadian Journal of History. 47(2): 259–83; Subtelny, O (1979). ‘The Ukrainian-Crimean Treaty of 1711’. Harvard Ukrainian Studies. 3: 808–17. 58 Peter, as quoted in Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random, NYC). 489. A similar version of this is in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven). II: 365. 59 Ostrowski, D (2010). ‘Peter’s Dragoons: How the Russians Won at Poltava’. Harvard Ukrainian Studies. 31(1): 81– 112; Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, Harlow). 229–31, 290–92. 60 See the 1711 Convention between Denmark, Poland and Russia, as at 27 CTS 119 and 157. 61 Frost, R (2009). ‘The Impact of the Battle of Poltava’. Harvard Ukrainian Studies. 31(1): 159–70.

62 The Treaty of Alliance between Prussia and Russia is in 26 CTS 437. The alliance with Hanover is 26 CTS 487, and that with Poland and Denmark, at 27 CTS 119. 63 This particular marriage treaty is from 1718. It is reprinted in 30 CTS 301. 64 Frost, R (2010). ‘The Impact of the Battle of Poltava on the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth’. Harvard Ukrainian Studies. 31(1): 159–70; Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 375, 377; Lukowski, J (1985). ‘Towards Partition: Polish Magnates and Russian Intervention in Poland’. The Historical Journal. 28(3): 557, 560–64; Lewitter, L (1970). ‘Poland, Russia and the Treaty of Vienna of 5 January, 1719’. The Historical Journal. 13(1): 3–30. 65 Bromley, J. (1970). The New Cambridge Modern History. The Rise of Great Britain and Russia. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VI: 702. 66 See the Treaty between Prussia, Poland and Russia, as in 28 CTS 391. Note also the Prussia and Russian treaty of Alliance and Guarantee, at 229 CTS 59. 67 Kuajala, A (2000). ‘Finland in the Great Northern War, 1700–1714’. Scandinavian Journal of History. 25(1): 69–86. 68 See for example the 1715 treaty between Denmark and Prussia Concerning the Division of Pomerania. 29 CTS 375. Also, 29 CTS 229, 29 CTS 319. Lindgren, R (1944). ‘A Projected Invasion of Sweden, 1716’. The Huntington Library Quarterly. 7(3): 223–46; 69 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 404, 406, 408. Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, London). 294–96. 70 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 82; Krieger, L (1970). Kings and Philosophers, 1689–1789. (Weidenfeld, London). 54–55; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 351 71 The 1719 Treaty of Peace between George I and the Queen of Sweden. This is reprinted in Jenkinson, C (ed.) A Collection of all the Treaties of Peace, Alliance and Commerce between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Gregg, Switzerland). II: 243. Hatton, R (2001) George I. (Yale University Press, London) 184–88; McKay, D (1973). ‘The Struggle for Control of George I’s Northern Policy, 1718–1719’. The Journal of Modern History. 45(3): 367–86; The 1720 Treaty of Peace between Prussia and Sweden is at 31 CTS 127. 72 The Treaty of Peace between Denmark and Sweden is at 31 CTS 219. Also, Chance, J (1907). ‘The Northern Treaties of 1719–1720’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 1: 99–137. 73 Article 4 of the Treaty of Nystad, 1721. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven). II: 342. 74 The boundary treaty is in 31 CTS 411, and the alliance, 31 CTS 423. 75 Re, ‘Proclamation of a New Title for Peter’. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, ibid. II: 343. Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 277. 76 The Decree Establishing the Supreme Privy Council. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, ibid. II: 377. 77 See the 1726 Treaty of Alliance between Russia and Austria, at 32 CTS 285. 78 The 1726 Treaty of Alliance between Russia and Prussia is in 32 CTS 317. 79 See page 435. 80 See page 396. 81 The ‘Conditions of Anne’s Accession to the Throne’. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, ibid, II: 378; Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 253. 82 The 1731 Inheritance Law, the 1731 Creation of the Military Cadet School, and the 1736 Manifesto on the Gentry’s Service, are all reprinted in Verbadsky, ibid, II: 380–81. Ostrowski, D (2002). ‘The Façade of Legitimacy: Exchange of Power and Authority in Early Modern Russia’. Comparative Studies in Society and History. 44(3): 534 546–50; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 142. 83 See the 1730 Renewal of the Alliance between Prussia and Russia, 33 CTS 283. 84 See the Russian and Swedish Declarations of 1730, 33 CTS 271. 85 Note the Treaty between Denmark and Russia, 33 CTS 289, also in 1732 at 33 CTS 445.

86 See the Treaty of Defensive Alliance and Guarantee between Russia and Saxony, as at 34 CTS 51, and also that with Austria, at 34 CTS 69. See too, Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 378, 380–81, 383–85. 87 See pages 97–98. 88 For the surrender of Danzig, see 34 CTS 159. 89 See the Act between the Emperor, France and Poland, as in 34 CTS 387. For Russia, 34 CTS 373. 90 This quote is in Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 205. See also, pp 331 and 372. 91 See the Cession of the Duchy of Lorraine to Stanislas I of Poland, as in 34 CTS 407. Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 175; Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 130–31. 92 See the treaty between the Emperor and Russia, as in 34 CTS 483. 93 See the 1740 Treaty for the Renewal of the Alliances between Prussia and Russia, as in 36 CTS 99. 94 The Convention between France and Sweden is at 35 CTS 175, and that with the Ottomans 35 CTS 493. 95 Leopoldovna was niece of the childless Tsarina who had recently died, and regent for her son, and grand-nephew of the Tsarina, Ivan IV, the designated next Tsar. 96 Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 256, 260; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 332–33, 358. 97 The 1742 British and Russian Alliance is in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 64. 98 Ibid, art 2. 99 See the Treaty of Alliance between Prussia and Russia, as in 37 CTS 105. 100 The 1743 Peace between Russia and Sweden is in 37 CTS 117. See also Showalter, D (1997). The Wars of Frederick the Great (Longman, Harlow). 65. 101 See the 1743 Russian Accession to the 1742 Treaty of Berlin, as in 37 CTS 219. 102 Szabo, F (2008). The Seven Years War in Europe. (Pearson, Edinburgh). 51. 103 See the 1745 Treaty of Alliance between Sweden and Russia, as in 37 CTS 389. 104 The 1746 Treaty of Alliance between Austria and Russia. This is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Select Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 25. 105 See the 1747 Treaty of Alliance between Prussia and Sweden at 38 CTS 121, and at 128 and 139. 106 See the 1747 Convention Between Britain, the United Provinces and Russia, as in 38 CTS 155. 107 See the 1757 Convention for the Renewal of the Defensive Alliance between Austria and Hungary 40 CTS 437. For the 1760 update see 41 CTS 371. 108 See the 1757 Convention between Austria, France and Sweden, as in 40 CTS 537. For the alliance, see 41 CTS 211. See also, Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 338; Ropes, A (1889). ‘The Causes of the Seven Years’ War’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 4: 143–70. 109 The Manifesto of Peter III of Freedoms and Liberty Granted to the Russian Gentry. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 391 110 Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 235, 251; Schweizer, K (1995). ‘Russia and the SchleswigHolstein Question’. Canadian Journal of History. 30(1): 189–94; Schweizer, K (1983). ‘Britain, Prussia, Russia and the Galitzin Letter’. The Historical Journal. 26(3): 531–56. 111 See the Armistice between Prussia and Russia, as in 42 CTS 143. 112 The Treaty of Peace between Prussia and Russia, as in 42 CTS 149. 113 See the Treaty of Peace between Prussia and Sweden, as at 42 CTS 163. 114 Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge,

1957). VII: 350, 478. 115 The Manifesto on the Accession of Catherine II to the Throne, 28 June 1762. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 396–97. 116 Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 251–75, 345. 117 Point 9 of Catherine’s Instructions on a New Code of Laws, 1767. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, ibid. II: 403, 404. 118 Catherine II, Instructions of 6 February 1767, to the Legal Commission. They are reprinted in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 448. 119 The Manifesto, as in Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 319; Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 260–62, 272–273; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 13. 120 The 1796 Decree on Censorship. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 469. 121 The Treaty of Alliance between Prussia and Russia, as at 43 CTS 1. 122 See the Secret Convention is attached to the Alliance, ibid. Note also Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 366, 372. 123 The Polish Agreement with Russia is at 43 CTS 35. That with Prussia, 43 CTS 43. 124 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 258; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 127–28. 125 On the territory question, Russia surrendered all dynastic claims to contested portions of Schleswig-Holstein, in return for possession of Oldenburg and Delmenhorst. See the 1765 Treaty of Friendship between Denmark and Russia, as in 43 CTS 137, the 1767 addition is at 43 CTS 467; and the alliance is at 44 CTS 245. Also, Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 350. 126 The Convention between Russia and Prussia is at 44 CTS 1. 127 The Treaty of Amity between Poland and Russia is at 44 CTS 83. See also, Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 389–91; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 289. 128 See pages 338–339. 129 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 93; Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 609–12; Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 280–81; Davies, ibid, I: 392. 130 See the Treaty between Austria and France, as in 44 CTS 317. 131 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 352–53; Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London) 374–75; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 374. 132 See, ‘The Diplomacy of Frederick the Great’. This is reprinted in Butterfield, H (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). III: 32, 33; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 289. 133 See the Treaty of Alliance between Prussia and Russia, as at 44 CTS 337. 134 Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 129, 176–77; Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 392. 135 Frederick, Note to Count von Solms. This is reprinted in Macartney, C (ed.) The Habsburg and Hohenzollern Dynasties in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. (Harper, NYC). 358. 136 Maria Theresa’s Second Memorandum, as in Macartney, ibid, 190 137 Padover, S (1936). ‘The First Partition of Poland’. The Slavonic and East European Review. 14(42): 682–87. 138 The Declarations and Counter-Declarations from Prussia, Austria and Russia, as at 44 CTS 493. 139 For the key documents, see 44 CTS 465; 45 CTS 57; 45 CTS 67; 45 CTS 73; 45 CTS 117; 45 CTS 233; 45 CTS 243; 45 CTS 253; 46 CTS 1; 46 CTS 17; 46 CTS 29; 46 CTS 187; 46 CTS 225; 46 CTS 249; 46 CTS 225. 140 This quote is from the preamble of the 25 July 1772 agreement. This is reprinted in Axelrod, A. (ed.) Encyclopedia

of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I: 94. 141 Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London) 372–74, 380–81. 142 Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 393. 143 This quote is from Article V of the 1772 Austro-Russian Treaty of Dismemberment. This is reprinted in Butterfield, H (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). III: 34, 35. 144 See the ‘Reply of the King of Poland to the Partitioning Powers’. This is reprinted in Butterfield, ibid, III: 35, 37. 145 The Polish treaty with Austria is at 45 CTS 233; with Russia 45 CTS 243 and Prussia at 45 CTS 253. 146 Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, London). 41; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 106, 118; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 52, 342–43; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 115, 139; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 30–31, 141. 147 Moon, D (1996). ‘Reassessing Russian Serfdom’. European History Quarterly. 26(4): 483–526. 148 The 1760 Decree on the Exile of Recalcitrant Serfs is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 391. See also the Decree Forbidding Free Movement, in the same volume, at 473. See Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 255; Bartlett, R (2003). ‘Serfdom and State Power in Imperial Russia’. European History Quarterly. 33(1): 29–64; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 120. 149 Catherine, as in Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 360, and pp 302–3, 306. Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 80, 101, 123. 150 See the Decree on Peasant Disturbances, 1762. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 449. 151 See the Decrees the Prohibition of Complaints. This, and the one on forced labour, are both are in Verbadsky, ibid. II: 453; Goodwin, A (ed). The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 309–10. 152 The Pugachev decree, as in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 448. 153 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 94; Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 276–77; Longworth, P (1973). ‘The Last Great Cossack-Peasant Rising’. Journal of European Studies. 3(1): 1–35. 154 The Manifesto of Pugachev. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.). A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 555. 155 Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 306–7, 350–51, 358, 396, 405–9; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 119. 156 The Manifesto Concerning Pugachev’s Actions, 19 December 1774. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, ibid, II: 458. 157 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 93–94. 158 Bromley, J. (1970). The New Cambridge Modern History. The Rise of Great Britain and Russia. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VI: 600; Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 281; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 54. 159 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 98–102, 121. 160 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 290–91; Loft, L (1991). ‘The Transylvanian Peasant Uprising of 1784’. French Historical Studies 17(1): 209–18. 161 Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 170; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 123; Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 99, 101. 162 See the 1777 Treaty of Alliance between Prussia and Russia, as at 46 CTS 249. 163 Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 316–17; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 373. 164 See the Treaty of Peace between Austria and Prussia, as at 47 CTS 153. Saxony’s adherence to this is at 47 CTS 177,

and the Palatinate, at 47 CTS 189. 165 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 364–68; Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 271, 286. 166 See the Convention between Prussia and Russia, 47 CTS 463. 167 The Treaty of Defensive Alliance between Austria and Russia is at 47 CTS 477. 168 See the Treaty of Commerce between France and the Netherlands, 49 CTS 381. 169 The Treaty of Amity and Commerce with Denmark and Russia is at 48 CTS 183. 170 The Bill in advance of the Constitution is reprinted in Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 402. 171 Butterwick, R (2005). ‘Political Discourses of the Polish Revolution’. The English Historical Review. 120(487): 695–731; Lukowski, J (1994). ‘Recasting Utopia: Montesquieu, Rousseau and the Polish Constitution of 3 Mary 1791’. The Historical Journal. 37(1): 65–87. 172 The Treaty of Amity and Alliance with Prussia is at 50 CTS 489. 173 See the 1791 Treaty of Amity and Union between Russia and Sweden 51 CTS 249. 174 The Treaty of Defensive Alliance between Austria and Russia, as at 51 CTS 359. 175 The Treaty of Alliance between Russia and Prussia, as at 51 CTS 399. 176 Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 554. 177 See the Manifesto on the Second Polish Partition. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 422. Also, Nisbet, B (1891). ‘The Second Partition of Poland’. The English Historical Review. 6(22): 331–40. 178 The Second Partition of Poland, 1793. This is reprinted in Axelrod, A (ed,) Encyclopedia of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I: 97. This is also in 51 CTS 449. For follow up with Russia, see 52 CTS 83; and the territory going to Prussia, see 52 CTS 137. 179 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 420; Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 91–94; Bain, N (1891). ‘The Second Partition of Poland’. English Historical Review. 6(22): 331–40. 180 The 1793 Treaty of Alliance between Poland and Russia is at 52 CTS 165. 181 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 328, 329, 354, 356. 182 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 338. 183 Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, London). 150–52; Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 95–96; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 490; Lamothe, M. (2005). ‘Heroic Last Stand for Polish Independence’. Military History. 22–28 November. 184 Preamble, of the Treaty between Austria, Prussia and Russia is in 52 CTS at 285. It can also be found in Axelrod, A (ed.) Encyclopedia of Historical Treaties and Alliances. (Facts on File, NYC, 2001). I: 100. See also, Lord, R (1925). ‘The Third Partition of Poland’. Slavonic Review. 3(9): 481–98. 185 The ‘Declaration of the Russian Court to Austrian Government’. Butterfield, H (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). III: 38–39. 186 See the Acts between Courland and Russia, as in 52 CTS at 345. See also 53 CTS at 1; 53 CTS 343, 53 CTS 429 and 54 CTS 23 for additional boundary clarifications. See also Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 285. 187 This secret article is reprinted in Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 408. 188 Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 330–34. 189 See the 1797 Convention between Russia and the Sovereign Order of Malta, as at 53 CTS 359.

190 See the 1797 Agreement on the Settlement of the Polish Debts, as at 53 CTS 411. 191 The 1797 Treaty of Commerce between Britain and Russia is at 54 CTS 1. 192 Preamble of the Anglo-Russian Alliance, as in Colbert, W (1819). The Parliamentary History of Britain, 1798–1800 (London). 34: 1168. See also the version in 54 CTS 379. 193 The treaty of Defensive Alliance between Russia and Turkey, 54 CTS 349, 491 and 503. 194 The Treaty of Defensive Alliance between Russia and Portugal, 55 CTS 71. 195 The Treaty of Alliance between Sweden and Russia, 55 CTS 99.

XI Religion 1.

Introduction

I

volumes of this series of the Causes of War, religion, as a pretext for conflict both between, and within, countries, was dominant. In the period of this volume, from 1650 and 1800, religion lost its dominant position as a reason for killing. This trend, of religion losing power, is most evident at the external level. Religious considerations or context were barely seen in the Nine Years War, the Wars of Spanish Succession, Austrian Succession, and the Seven Years War. The exception was in eastern Europe, where warfare involving religious considerations could flare and burn to such an extent that religious intolerance was used a justification for Russian intervention in PolandLithuania in the second half of the eighteenth century. In terms of internal conflict, most of the primary European countries progressed to a position in which tolerance of different faiths became the norm, not the exception, by the end of the eighteenth century. This end point was the exact opposite of when this study began, in 1650, when only a few Protestant countries inched their way towards tolerance on questions of religion. By the end of the eighteenth century, the vast majority of European countries, Protestant and Catholic, were on the road to tolerance on questions of religion. The movement towards tolerance was strongest in the revolutions of America and France. The difference between the two, was that although they both agreed on the ideals of equality and tolerance for all faiths, where the Americans built a wall between Church and State, the French, initially, tried to destroy the previously privileged First Estate and introduce a brand new type of social organisation. However, in the final years of the eighteenth century, the revolution had begun to mellow and Catholicism was once more allowed to breathe again in France. Henceforth it was to be only one faith among many, equal to all and stripped of political power. N THE EARLIER

2.

Enlightenment

The period of this book, from 1650 to 1800, reflects a pathway in Europe in which religion increasingly began to lose its position as the foremost compass that most countries possessed.

There are many reasons for this massive social transformation in Europe and their colonies. Foremost amongst these was the power of the Enlightenment. To the minds of many, the Enlightenment was about the extension of tolerance on questions of religion, reducing the power of all religious authorities, and destroying superstition and its twin, fanaticism. While constitutional principles dealt with the first considerations, the second required philosophical maturity that stripped away dogma and the power it gave people, and replaced it with the rapid rise of science and reason. These two tools began to quickly chisel away the religious foundations of all faiths, as scholars, politicians and citizens in general, now sought to understand matters in much more rational ways than the hand of God or the Devil. This period, anchored to the age of Isaac Newton, found philosophers and educated populations increasing casting a suspicious eye over the claims of those with a direct line to an omnipresent power and their assertions of divine revelation.1 Evidence of this social change was the decline in the craze of witch-hunting, which had peaked in the first half of the seventeenth century. It then continued into the second half of that century, with some notable instances recorded in Sweden (1674), Austria (1675–90) and even in the Massachusetts, Salem (1692). In the last instance, 19 people were executed, after being convicted of involvement in ‘certain detestable arts called witchcrafts and sorceries wickedly and feloniously used, practiced and exercised at and within the township of Salem’.2 Despite these stand-out events, post-1650, the clear trend is of a sharp decline in the hunting and execution of witches. Even the religiously intolerant Louis XIV prohibited all further trials for witchcraft from 1682. The following century, the last execution for witchcraft in England took place in 1716, and 1727 in Scotland. The Witchcraft Act was removed from the statute books in 1735, thus making the crime impossible. In 1776, Poland became the last European country of note to ban witch trials.3 Other evidence of this social change involves the way that natural events, such as earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, epidemics and tsunamis, started to become subjects of science and not superstition. When the Lisbon earthquake of 1755 flattened the city, those who argued that the deaths of 1,200 people were the act of an angry God, found their explanations less persuasive than in the past.4

3.

Religion as a Pretext for War

The root of the Thirty Years War was conflict over religion.5 The peace that ended that mass killing was the 1648 Peace of Westphalia. After it was signed, the idea of conflict between countries (especially Christian countries) based on religion was increasingly frowned upon.6 The thinking in the second half of the seventeenth century was that although there were still many reasons to fight, differences in theological opinion was not one of them. This is not to suggest that it did not occur, but it occurred a lot less than in the past. The trend was away, not towards, the cause of war being based in theological differences.

(a) Switzerland The area in which Catholics and Protestants would continue to scrap over questions of religion in the decades after 1648 was Switzerland. This country experienced its first clash in 1656 with their war of Villmergen, after the Protestant cities of Zurich and Bern attacked some Catholic communities (and suffered some 800 deaths as a result) which had executed and/or expelled some Protestants from within their own communities, as was the right of each Canton, to maintain its own religious status quo. After peace was settled,7 the area remained calm for a few decades before violence broke out again 1712. Again, there was no outright victory, with the belligerents battling their way back to the status quo before peace could be agreed. The core of this deal was some territory exchange and joint regency over disputed areas.8 (b) Eastern Europe The violence related to religion in Switzerland was small in scale, compared to that which occurred in eastern Europe which experienced the worst religious-based violence for the period of this study. This began with the Cossack uprising which spread over the adjoining lands in the Ukraine held by Russia and Poland-Lithuania, between 1648 and 1651. This war was driven by concerns surrounding autonomy and status, as well as ethnicity and religion. The result was that people of both Polish and Jewish origin were directly hunted. More than one-fourth of all Jewish people in Poland-Lithuania were killed and countless others were left homeless, in a clear attempt at ethnic cleansing. This same mixture, continued to repeat itself in the decades that followed as rhetoric about the defence of religion (and desecration of places of sanctuary of opposing others) continued to spill over in Poland-Lithuania, as the principal belligerents of the next six decades, (Protestant) Sweden, (Orthodox) Russia, (Catholic) Poland-Lithuania and, occasionally, their Muslim neighbours collided.9 The difference to the past in this part of eastern Europe, was that all of the peace treaties that ended these conflicts, from the 1650s onwards, promised respect and protection for those of different faiths (allowing them to continue their practices) within the areas of the victors. For example, when taking Swedish territory, Peter the Great would promise, inter alia, ‘to leave without any innovation the Lutheran religion in the whole land and in the cities that now profess it’.10 Despite such promises, some faiths began to disappear. By 1666 in Poland-Lithuania, no Protestant retained a seat in the Sejm, and the thought of anyone but a Catholic ruling the realm, was impossible (as Augustus the Strong of Saxony showed, when he decided to convert to the Catholic faith). This same man would then take little interest in defending the other religious minorities in his lands. For example, when a dispute broke out at Thorn in 1724 between Catholics and Lutherans, Augustus, was quick to side with the Catholics and have 13 Lutherans executed rather than risk civil unrest.11 Religious intolerance between the Catholics, Orthodox, Protestant and Jewish groups

continued to be a very real problem in this part of the world in the decades to come. In 1768, when violence broke out in the Ukraine, in the space of a couple of weeks, tens of thousands of Catholics and Jewish people were rounded up and killed, and their places of worship destroyed. Very similar tensions occurred within Poland-Lithuania in the same period, where about 200,000 Protestants and 600,000 Orthodox were actively rallied against. Over 100,000 are believed to have perished as a result.12 These considerations were used as a pretext for both Russia’s Catherine II and Prussia’s Frederick II, to intervene in Poland-Lithuania, under the pretext of protecting religious minorities and religious tolerance for both Protestants and Orthodox Christians in that country. The right of freedom of worship and the ability for the Orthodox, the Lutherans and the Calvinists to build or rebuild their own churches and schools was accepted by the Sejm. So too, the fair admission of these religious minorities into public offices. Although Catholicism was to remain the dominant religion, freedom of faith was confirmed in the 1791 Constitution for Poland.13 (c) The Omission of Religion in the Major Conflicts One of the most noticeable facts about the period of this study is that although war and religion continued to mix in some areas on the margins (as noted above), overall, it failed to make any significant appearances during the major wars of the period. This meant that Catholic and non-Catholic countries could quite happily cooperate, and/or go to war against peoples of the same faith in times of conflict between 1650 and 1700.14 (i) The Intolerance of Louis XIV In the middle years of the French King Louis XIV, however, religion once again became an issue. This was somewhat of a surprise, as in the initial decades of his rule, Louis had been quite happy to make deals and alliances with Protestant and/or Republican England and/or the United Provinces, while warring against his Catholic neighbours. These alliances were despite Louis XIV being particularly devout in his own faith, to which he had promised, ‘to extirpate heresy, to reunite his subjects and to attach them to the steadfastness of the Catholic faith’.15 Although the French king had a difficult relationship with Rome (due to the continual question over whether he, or the Pope, had primacy in France) Louis was certain he did not want any religious dissent within his realm. Although Louis would have been aware of the way that the authorities of neighbouring Catholic Savoy had dealt with their dissident Protestant population in 1655 (with over 5,000 killed in the Waldensian valleys of the Piedmontese Alps),16 he did not pursue direct military action against Protestants in his lands, in times of peace. Rather, he preferred to use the power of the law. Accordingly, between 1661 and 1678, he had passed 12 edicts against the Protestant Huguenots. His initial thinking was,

[T]he best way to reduce gradually the number of Huguenots in my kingdom was not oppress them by any new rigour against them, but to implement what they had obtained during previous reigns.17

Although Louis initially set out on the path of being strict about what had been previously agreed, he soon decided that this approach was not sufficient, and something more needed to be done to keep up the pressure on the Huguenots. For example, a decree of 1663 forbade Huguenots who had converted to Catholicism from recanting. Another, in 1669, forbade them from leaving France without permission. In 1677, financial incentives were given for Huguenots to convert. From 1680, Huguenots were explicitly banned from all official or governmental positions. Mixed marriages were banned in the same year, and, in 1682, it became impossible for them to leave the country with their savings.18 On 22 October 1685 Louis took the monumental step, which he believed would end heresy in France. The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes ended all tolerance for different Christian faiths in France. Although this was primarily aimed at Huguenots, other groups, such as nascent Jewish communities, also fell foul of this edict. Every Protestant country strongly objected to this action. The Pope saw it as being unnecessarily incendiary, while further afield, even Peter the Great issued a Declaration against the French King in Favor of the Poor Protestants. Louis, however, was undeterred and proceeded as planned, revoking both the 1598 and 1629 Edicts of Nantes, and destroying the tolerance and reconciliation that had been achieved in the previous decades.19 The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes demanded the destruction of all the places of public worship of the Protestants in France. It also forbade assemblies of Huguenots, all Protestant schools were shut, and all Huguenot religious ministers (unless they renounced) were to be expelled. It also mandated the baptism of all Huguenot children who were to be brought up as Catholics, under the wardship of local judges. Protestant soldiers were excluded from the French army from 1685 (but could still serve in French foreign regiments). To accelerate the conversion process, French (Catholic) Dragoons were billeted with the Huguenot families, as an incentive for them to convert to Catholicism.20 The result was that between 300,000 and 400,000 Huguenots converted to the Catholic faith, while perhaps 200,000 opted for a different route and fled as religious refugees seeking safety in Protestant areas, such as England, Sweden, the United Provinces, Saxony, Brandenburg/Prussia, North America and even the newly founded South Africa. Those who did not convert or flee and persisted in trying to practise their faith were persecuted. This was especially evident with the Huguenots who moved to the relatively Protestant area of the Vaudois. Louis responded to this migration within France with a military campaign in 1686. Although this put out the initial dissent, this particular area would flare again in the Nine Years War.21 (ii) The Nine Years War The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes did not trigger a violent reaction from other Protestant countries. Moreover, when the actual Nine Years War broke out a couple of years later,

despite the importance of domestic religious considerations in both France and England, the conflict did not turn into a war of religious-based violence at the macro level. This failure to turn the Nine Years War into a war about religion was despite the fact that French and Jacobite22 (the supporters of the ousted King of England, James II) propaganda tried to justify it as a confessional struggle. James went so far in 1688 as to proclaim the beginning of a religious crusade in all the Catholic courts of Europe. Louis XIV, also adopted the posture of the defender of the Catholic faith, ‘against the leagues formed by the Protestant princes for its destruction’.23 In addition, where there were areas within the French realm that were sympathetic to the Protestant faith, the military action was particularly vicious. For example, in the pro-Protestant Vaudois region where the rebels pledged allegiance to the enemies of Louis, a brutal pacification campaign followed in which about 12,000 Vaudois men, women and children, were taken prisoner and placed in prison camps where malnutrition and disease killed at least two-thirds of them.24 Despite such words and actions, the majority of Catholic European states, especially the (Catholic) Emperor Leopold I, and (Catholic) Carlos II of Spain, strongly signalled their disagreement with the French interpretation of international politics. Rather, they joined the Protestant William III and went to war against Catholic Louis. They fought against the French king because of his continual actions of aggrandisement and general untrustworthiness. Louis’s religious faith had nothing to do with it. Even Pope Innocent XI did not support Louis or James. Rather, the Pope saw the French king as ‘the common enemy of West-Europe’,25 not its saviour.26 This same pattern was then repeated with the War of Spanish Succession. That is, while some of the monarchs of period, such as King Philip V of Spain, were quick to use religiousinspired rhetoric27 to bolster morale in their part of this conflict, as a rule, religion did not come to the fore in that war. The exception to this was with Louis XIV, who again cracked down very hard on the remaining Huguenot Camisards in southern France between 1702 and 1704. There, 466 villages were put to the torch, and perhaps, tens of thousands of Camisard, men, women and children killed in the flames, and/or the subsequent battles.28 (iii) The Conflict of Spanish Succession and the Seven Years War After the War of Spanish Succession, although the rhetoric remained strong and the tensions high – especially when an area that was supposed to be Protestant under the Treaty of Westphalia changed sides (and created refugees in the process), it was a period of diplomacy, with talking behind closed doors, public bilateral pronouncements,29 and the opening of doors to those seeking sanctuary. This same pattern followed through with the last major conflict before the revolutionary conflicts of the Seven Years War. Here, the teams were drawn up much more along the conventional religious lines (with the Catholic Bourbons and Habsburgs, pitting themselves against the Protestant Prussians and the Protestant British). However, again, the idea of it being a war based on religion was unconvincing to most concerned. Accordingly, although

Frederick the Great tried, initially, to paint this as a religious conflict, he had a difficult time explaining how he was also fighting Protestant Sweden and Orthodox Russia. In addition, the Catholic countries went out of their way to avoid talk that this was a war of religion. Even Pope Benedict XIV warned his diplomatic agents never to speak of this conflict as a, ‘war of religion’.30

4.

The Movement Towards Tolerance

Although religion was no longer a preferred justification for conflict between countries, within countries, intolerance of those of the non-approved faiths remained high. This was common in most European countries, albeit with large degrees of difference between areas, and the pathway towards religious tolerance, within countries, taking a long time to walk. Nonetheless, by the end of the eighteenth century, the trend was clearly towards tolerance both between, and within, countries as most came to grasp, and accept its importance as an ideal to strive for. (a) The United Provinces and Brandenburg The first examples of countries adopting a tolerant approach within their realms, towards different religions comes from the United Provinces and Brandenburg. In BrandenburgPrussia, this began when the Calvinist ruler, Frederick William, made it clear in 1652 that other Christians sects, such as Lutherans and Catholics, were also welcome in his Protestant land. The proviso was that no such peoples were allowed to be consumed by a ‘needlessly bitter zeal’ and they all had to refrain from ‘unchristian reviling, slander and condemnation in school and pulpit’.31 Laws followed in 1664 which forbade personal attacks, prohibited public criticism of other confessions, and required religious ministers to submit to the terms of the law in writing or suffer ejection. By 1671, Frederick was also allowing limited numbers (50) of wealthy Jewish people to move to, live and work in Brandenburg. They were also free to practise their faith in private (not via public synagogues). However, they were also required to live in certain areas and wear a yellow patch on their sleeve to distinguish themselves from the native Germans.32 The United Provinces, with their Protestant (Calvinist) faith had a similar approach. This land, which was the only state without an active and official apparatus for censorship laid the strongest path of this period towards tolerance. The situation was aptly summed up by Baruch Spinoza in the early 1670s: Take the city Amsterdam … in this flourishing state … men of every race and sect live in great harmony, and before they entrust their goods to anyone there are only two things they want to know: whether he is rich or poor, and whether is honest or dishonest. His religion does not matter … no sect is so detested that its members (provided that they harm no one, give everyman his own, and live decent lives) are refused the protection of the civil authorities.33

In practice, this meant that the Catholics retained the right to practise their faith in private, or

purchase the right to practise in public, but they could not obtain official positions. Similarly, small Jewish communities began to flourish in parts of the United Provinces, operating under the same conditions as the Catholics. This land also gave asylum to Protestant radicals of the period, such as Pierre Jurieu and Pierre Bayle. The latter was particularly important as he recognised that, ‘tolerance is the source of peace, and intolerance that is the source of disorder and squabbling’.34 Spinoza would supplement this line of thinking, arguing that, ‘the real disturbers of peace are those who seek to abolish freedom of judgement in a free state’.35 Thus: It is safest for a state to make piety and religion consist wholly in the practice of charity and equity; to confine the sovereign’s right in the religious as well as in the secular sphere to control of actions alone’ and otherwise to allow everyone both to think what he pleases and say what he thinks.36

(b) Russia The question of tolerance for different religious faiths within Russia for the period of this book began when Tsar Alexis sought to unify the Orthodox Russian and the Orthodox Greek Churches. This effort saw them transitioning from the use of three fingers instead of two in making the sign of the cross. This (and other matters, such as the sequence of singing in church, and changing ecclesiastical books) caused massive dissent amongst the community, from which the so-called ‘Old Believers’ emerged in loud protest. These people regarded strict adherence to every detail of the old practices as an essential sign of their Russian identity and the special place occupied by Russia and its church in God’s design. Tsar Alexis was not convinced. The result was that the Old Believers were anathematised and excommunicated by the revised Orthodox faith and stripped of all legal status in 1666. In the resistance which followed, as many of 20,000 may have died through acts of revolt and persecution. Each Tsar that followed, implemented various levels of persecution (from additional taxation through to execution), depending on their own feelings on the matter, and how much loyalty they felt they could demand from these communities.37 Peter the Great also made large inroads into the question of religion in Russia, although with Peter, the question of religion was determined more by pragmatism than theological principle. First, Peter had the Monastery Prikaz updated, to ensure that judicial control over religious orders (apart from the Patriarch) was strict. This then became an arm of the civil government, to ensure that ecclesiastical matters did not escape civil control, while the Tsar retained the right to select the Russian Orthodox bishops. These same bishops then administered loyalty oaths to all citizens (except peasants) and were obliged to report any information obtained in confession, about possible rebellions/treason.38 Second, in 1721, Peter abolished the Patriarchate, turning it into the Procurator of the Holy Synod, effectively making it a religious department of the government. His goal was not intended to create a revolution in theology, but more, a strong control over what he considered the ‘second sovereign’ in Russia.39 On the question of religious tolerance within Russia, Peter did not insist that the Russian

Orthodox faith was the only pathway. He issued edicts in 1702 encouraging religious toleration (akin to the western countries he admired), and in 1721, he issued a decree allowing Orthodox Christians to marry other (non-Orthodox) Christians. However, when Peter died, his successor, Tsarina Elizabeth, undid many of these considerations of tolerance. In her efforts to ingratiate herself with the Orthodox religious authorities in Russia she allowed, inter alia, military operations to convert dissenters to the official faith and allowed Russian troops to cross the border into Poland and forcefully return over 13,000 refugees who were primarily Old Believers back to Russia.40 This approach was once again reversed by Tsar Peter III when he took power. He reverted to the policy of toleration and condemned persecution on religious grounds. However, his steps of stripping the power of the Orthodox Church, and moving it to a more Lutheran approach, came crashing down with him, during his short reign. When he was toppled by his wife Catherine, she quickly stopped his projects to change the Orthodox Church, defending its role as central pillar in Russia. Although Catherine disagreed with her husband on this point, she agreed with him on the question of religious tolerance. She would not go back to persecution of religious dissidents and she imposed no penalties on the Old Believers, who began to return to Russia. She also cautioned strongly against trials involving witchcraft or heresy because such crimes ‘may excessively disturb the tranquillity, freedom and welfare of the citizens and may be the source of innumerable torments unless the laws set proper bounds’.41 (c) The Decline of the Papacy and the Habsburg Lands For the Vatican, the second half of the eighteenth century was a period of retreat from power for each of the three primary pontiffs who were in charge. Pope Clement XIII, despite unleashing all the censorship powers he had on the most offensive writings (to him) of the Enlightenment, could not stem the tide. His successor, Clement XIV would lose the Jesuits. Pope Pius VI would lose France, much of Italy, and eventually end up being taken prisoner by Napoleon and dying in exile in 1799.42 Out of this sequence of events, the most important loss of structural influence for the Papacy was the fall from grace of the Jesuits. This was a remarkable event, as at the turn of the eighteenth century, their position had seemed unassailable. This group, which had begun as a humble order of missionaries early in the sixteenth century, became a vast and ambitious organisation, that provided much of the intellectual firepower of Catholicism, and wielded vast unseen power behind the scenes. They were the confessors to most of the Catholic monarchs, and controlled many of the levers of education, social control (such as with Inquisitions) and sometimes, domestic politics within Catholic countries. At the same time, on the ground, the countries which embraced strict Catholicism were the antithesis of tolerance. Censorship, social control, and a mutually beneficial relationship between the monarchs and the Church, was the pattern in France, Spain, Portugal, parts of Italy and the Habsburg lands. Although the Thirty Years War had largely ended conflict between countries on the grounds of religion, within each of these realms, dissent against the

official creed was strictly controlled. For example, in Habsburg Austria, in 1651, Emperor Ferdinand III set up Reformation Commissions in each district, from which registers of non-Catholics were created. Each of those so recorded, was summoned to undergo six weeks of instruction and then given the choice of conformity or exile. Emperor Leopold I continued this hard line. He not only expelled any Jewish people he could find from Vienna (in the 1670s), he also used legislative measures against Protestants in his territories (including the Habsburg part of Hungary) involving forced conversions, confiscations of property for disobedience, expulsions and even some Protestant pastors being sent to the galleys for supposed disloyalty to the Crown (as they failed to convert to Catholicism). Leopold only reversed this approach and accepted freedom of worship for the Hungarian Protestants (but not other Protestants within his realm), when they rose up in rebellion against him and fought with the Muslim Ottomans for promises from Istanbul of religious freedom and large degrees of political autonomy.43 The paradigm of control changed in the middle of the eighteenth century. The epicentre of this change was when the Jesuits started to lose their power when they were linked, in 1758, to the attempted assassination of the King of Portugal. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back, resulting in a massive storm of rejection of the Jesuits by Catholic monarchs, who saw a chance to rid themselves of their influence. The first country to expel them was Portugal in 1759. France followed in 1762, expelling 3,500 members and closing down 150 establishments. This was done on the grounds that Jesuit doctrines were deemed to be: [P]erverse, destructive of all principles of religion, and even of honesty, injurious to Christian morality, pernicious to civil society, seditious, hostile to the rights of the nation and the power of the king.44

Spain expelled the Jesuits from its land in 1766. Naples went next in 1767 and Parma followed in 1768. Even the Empress of the Holy Roman Empire, the Habsburg, Maria Theresa agreed to the suppression of the Jesuits. Matters culminated five years later when Pope Clement XIV, on 16 August 1773, published the bull authorising the suppression, Dominus ac Redemptor Noster. Thereafter, for the Catholic lands who had not already done so, the property of the Jesuits was sequestered, and their members exiled to Rome, where many of them lived in dire poverty. Despite the human cost for the Jesuits involved, in all of these Catholic lands, there could be no question that it was the monarchs, not the Church, who were now in charge.45 This loss of power for the Vatican, via its Jesuits, was supplemented by a strong swing towards Enlightenment values and greater tolerance for different faiths, within many of the Catholic countries. Although this was not the case in all of these countries, with some, like Spain, allowing the Inquisition to continue to persecute its radical philosophers (such as Pablo de Olavide)46 in other Catholic bulkheads, like Habsburg Austria (and associated territories), the change was remarkable. This change began with Maria Theresa, who was very intolerant in the 1740s, (planning the expulsion of Jewish people and then all Protestants, from Austria and Bohemia) before maturing into the beginning of tolerance in the 1760s (such as forbidding the forcible conversion of Jewish children to Christianity).47

The trend towards tolerance took a massive jump with her son, Joseph II, who became Holy Roman Emperor in 1780. He mandated that no papal bulls could enter his realms without his own prior approval. All senior church appointments had to be consented by the government. The teaching in seminaries became more regulated and standardised, and the organisation was slimmed down.48 Considerations like absolute papal jurisdiction over their people and immunity from taxation were no longer considered valid. In 1781, Joseph went one step further and issued his Toleration Patent. Although Catholicism remained the public faith, members of the Lutheran, Calvinist and Greek Orthodox religions’ were given freedom to practise their religion anywhere, unmolested in private, and although subject to certain restrictions, were able to set up their own schools, own school-masters and own pastors. In 1786, marriages between Christians and nonChristians were no longer treated as ‘a religious crime’.49 Tolerance was also extended to Jewish peoples, allowing them private worship, coupled with the opening of professions they could enter, including the military. Additional rules were passed which prevented the Catholic population from molesting or insulting them. They no longer had to live in ghettos, wear special clothing; stay indoors during Christian holidays, and the men no longer had to wear long beards. They were also given freedom of movement and had some discriminatory taxes removed.50 (d) England (i) The Republic Despite just emerging from a vicious civil war where questions of religion were critical, Oliver Cromwell’s England of the first half of the 1650s was surprisingly tolerant and pragmatic. In terms of external politics, this meant he was willing to link Republican and Anglican England into military alliances with the monarchy of Catholic France.51 He was also willing to fight fellow Protestant and Republicans in the United Provinces.52 Simply, the orientation of religious faith was not a defining consideration in whether or not a war was to be pursued. In terms of internal politics, Cromwell was also more tolerant of different religious faiths than many of his contemporaries. This meant that although he would not allow Jewish immigration into England, neither did he seek to expel the existing Jewish communities in London. Rather, their liberties appear to have increased under Cromwell, with a synagogue being in use from about 1656.53 This approach was consistent with his view that if the practice of a religion was, ‘quiet’ and ‘peaceable’ then all ‘should enjoy conscience and liberty to themselves’ and only those who used religion as ‘a pretence for arms and blood’54 should be strictly controlled. Cromwell’s view of Catholicism was that quiet and non-agitating private worship was not objectionable. However, Catholics were not to be allowed to hold any positions of power. The law made clear that anyone, ‘who do or shall profess the Roman Catholic position’55

was excluded from Parliament.56 In recently subdued largely Catholic Ireland, Cromwell took this policy to an extreme. Here, building on the earlier (1641) policy of confiscation and plantation, a new act was passed in 1652. With this, some Protestant and nearly all the Catholic landowners were graded according to their guilt in the recent conflict and lost some of their estates. By the 1653 Act of Satisfaction, the lands so secured were divided amongst the soldiers and adventurers. This land, taken from the old Gaelic and Hiberno-Norman aristocracy, which formed the backbone of the Irish Protestant Ascendancy, was the pay-in-kind for the soldiers who had invaded Ireland with Cromwell.57 (ii) The Restoration Charles II was restored to the throne of England in 1660 after the death of Oliver Cromwell, and the inability of Oliver’s son to carry on his father’s power.58 Part of the deal that Charles made to achieve this restoration, in the Declaration of Breda, was, inter alia: A liberty to tender consciences, and that no man shall be disquieted or called in question for differences of opinion in matter of religion, which do not disturb the peace of the kingdom.59

In practice, this meant that the king continued to allow the presence of the Jewish people already in England, while seeking to extend the tolerance shown towards Catholics and Protestant non-Anglicans. The problem for Charles II was that although he may have personally wanted religious tolerance, the English Parliament which oversaw his restoration was very intolerant and would not allow any such development to take place. Accordingly, for Charles II, to co-exist with the English Parliament, he had to acquiesce in the sequence of laws from 1661 to 1665 (known as the Clarendon Code), for fear of losing the recently reacquired throne.60 The Corporation Act of 1661 kept Dissenters (18 different types of Protestants, ranging from Anabaptists to Quakers, who were not of the Church of England) out of government. This law restricted all offices in government to Anglicans. The Act of Uniformity of 1662 prescribed the various prayers to be said (and when), so that there would be ‘uniformity in the public worship of God’.61 Those who could not conform were ejected from the Anglican church. The final toll of those who paid this price was 1,909 clerics, about one-fifth of the clergy in England.62 The Conventicle Act of 1664 made the standard book of common prayer compulsory, unauthorised worship (in groups of more than five) was prohibited and non-conformist religious ministers were barred from both schools and towns, as it was feared that such gatherings were being used to ‘contrive insurrections’.63 The following year, the Five Mile Act was added, banning any minister who failed to adhere to the 1662 rules on uniformity, from being within five miles of any parish from which they had been expelled (for failing to conform).64 Some Dissenter groups were considered so problematic that specific legislation, such as

the Quaker Act of 1662, was passed. This started out with financial penalties for their prohibited meetings of worship, rising to imprisonment (1,300 were incarcerated) through to transportation to foreign colonies for a third offence. Even William Penn was netted with this law for the publication of his book, A Great Case of Liberty of Conscience, Debated and Defended. Although most of the Quaker deaths in England were due to poor prison conditions, in the colonies, a handful were executed for their faith.65 In Ireland, although many welcomed the restoration of Charles II, the new king did not reverse many of the substantive policies of the past which were the source of injustice against the Catholic majority. This entrenchment of intolerance was possible as although there was an Irish Houses of Parliament, Catholic members were not only excluded from sitting, their independence was also constrained by the English Privy Council. As an example of the intolerance, by the Act of Settlement of 1662, after it became apparent that there was simply not enough land in Ireland to satisfy all the claimants seeking reward for services and those seeking compensation for what was lost, although Protestant interests lost one-third of their claims, most Catholic petitioners were debarred from even bringing their cases before the courts. In practical terms, out of nearly 8,000 dispossessed Catholic landlords, only about 1,300 were restored.66 The same level of intolerance was not found in the colonies in America. This was especially so with the colonies that England acquired, such as those with Swedish and/or Dutch roots (like New Amsterdam, later New York). Rhode Island was also priding itself on its religious toleration as early as 1661, as was Massachusetts in 1662, which granted the franchise to all men who owned the necessary levels of property, irrespective of religion.67 The exemplar of religious tolerance in the colonies of North America was Pennsylvania. This colony, formed from a grant of land by Charles II in 1681 (in settlement for a debt the king owed William’s father, Admiral Sir William Penn), saw the quick arrival of some 2,000 emigrants from England, followed by persecuted groups from Germany, France and elsewhere to what became one of the most religiously tolerant places in the world at that time for Christians of all flavours. Their Charter of Privileges of 1701 recognised that if a person believed in ‘One almighty God’ …, and promised to ‘live quietly under the Civil Government’ then they shall not be ‘molested or prejudiced … nor compelled to frequent or maintain any religious worship, place or ministry, contrary to his or their mind or … contrary to their religious persuasion’. Accordingly, ‘all persons who profess to believe in Jesus Christ’ had the capacity to serve in government.68 (iii) Charles II The complexity of whether Charles II was intolerant concerning religious questions is added to by the fact that, in 1670, he signed the Treaty of Dover with the French King Louis XIV. This treaty was in two parts. First, the public face of this treaty was about an alliance and joint attack on the United Provinces in what became the Third Anglo-Dutch war.69 Second, the secret part of this treaty, contained the clause that he (Charles) would, inter alia, ‘make a public profession of the Catholic faith, and will receive the sum of two millions of crowns, to

aid him in this project’.70 To help facilitate this conversion, Louis promised to provide troops into the realms of Charles II, to help crush any dissent, should it arise. However, although Charles did help with the war against the United Provinces, he did not publicly adopt Catholicism. Rather, he only made his personal pledge towards that faith on his death bed. Further, Charles insisted that the children (Mary, b. 1662 and Anne, b. 1665) of his brother (James II) – both future queens of England – be brought up Anglican, not Catholic, despite the Catholic orientation of their father. He could not make the same demands on any of his own children from his wife, as he had none. However, of the illegitimate children he sired, of note, James Scott, the Duke of Monmouth who would in years to come challenge his uncle James for the throne based on religion, was brought up Protestant. Although Charles did not make the public profession of Catholicism that Louis hoped for, he clearly intended to make England a more tolerant place. To achieve this, on 15 March 1672, he issued his Declaration of Indulgence. This stated that: [T]he execution of all manner of penal laws in matters ecclesiastical, against whatsoever sort of non-conformists, or recusants, be immediately suspended.71

The Declaration also called for the creation of public places of worship for non-Anglican – Protestant faiths, but not Catholic ones. This step forwards did not receive the type of reception for which Charles had hoped. Rather, an outraged English Parliament forced Charles to withdraw from the war against the Dutch and demanded that the Declaration be withdrawn, on the grounds that only the legislature could suspend penal laws in matters of religion. Charles, seeing the anger rising, did as requested. He then agreed to the updated (1673) Test Act which required the holder of every office, civil or military, to swear their loyalty to the Anglican faith. This was done by pledging allegiance and taking an oath, ‘that there is not any transubstantiation in the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, in the elements of bread and wine …’72 Those who refused to take the oath (typically Catholics and Protestant Dissenters) were legally disabled from holding any form of public office, and also risked arrest.73 The problem for Charles was that the laws designed to confirm religious loyalty in England caught his own brother (and future king of England) James II, who had secretly become Catholic in 1668. This became a public problem when James refused to adhere to the 1673 Test Act, thus losing his position as High Admiral of the Navy. It had not helped that James had recently married a devoutly Catholic wife, Mary of Modena, and the arrangement had been praised and supported by Louis XIV of France. The conversion and marriage of James II overlapped with the so called Popish Plot. This plot was a widely held conspiracy between 1678 and 1681 suggesting a Catholic uprising under the direction of the Pope and his Jesuits. Although Pope Innocent XI had no such intentions, and the record of violence at this point was with Dissident Presbyterians in Scotland (such as on 22 June 1679 at Bothwell Bridge where some 700 rebel Scots were killed), the plot and its endless speculation resulted in large-scale hysteria within England. Dozens were killed and some high-profile Catholic members who were resident in England

and Ireland (such as Oliver Plunkett, the Primate of All Ireland) were arrested for treason, tried and executed. To double down on the perceived risks, the Test Act was amended in 1678, to make it clear that, in addition to the earlier exclusions, Catholics were also not allowed to sit in either House of Parliament.74 The fear of a Catholic takeover in England was heightened when it became apparent that as Charles II had failed to produce any legitimate children. This made it highly likely that upon the death of Charles, that the throne would go to his Catholic brother, James. Seeing this risk, three attempts were made in Parliament with the Exclusion Bills, to keep James from coming to power in England, Scotland and Ireland, in favour of, instead, whichever Protestant with royal blood was next in line, no matter how far down that dynastic line they might be. These bills argued such an act of exclusion was necessary, because, ‘the emissaries, priests and agents for the pope have traitorously seduced James, Duke of York … for promoting the Romish church and … the power and greatness of France’.75 None of these bills could muster the necessary numbers to pass into law, and when Charles dissolved Parliament,76 the opposition felt they had no lawful method to prevent the succession of James. It was in this atmosphere in 1682 that James came back to England and, with his brother, was almost assassinated in the failed Rye Plot.77 Over a dozen conspirators were then arrested and executed for treason, a further dozen imprisoned, and an equal number fled for sanctuary in the United Provinces. Of those who fled, of note, John Locke and James Scott, the Duke of Monmouth, ran to exile. (iv) James II James was the first Catholic to be crowned king of England, Scotland and Ireland in over a century. He came to power in England on 6 February 1685, upon the death of his brother, Charles II. With his accession, he promised to defend the realm and the Anglican Church. He was also quick to re-establish the next session of Parliament which his brother had paused. The fact that he had ascended the throne peacefully and acted with due respect to the laws and law-making institutions of England was noted with approval by his subjects. Although the coronation of James II was peaceful, there was still discontent in the kingdom against a Catholic monarch sitting on the throne of England. This was evidenced a few months after the coronation when James Scott, the Duke of Monmouth, attempted to take the Crown of England for his Protestant self. The Duke was the illegitimate child of Charles II and had been born in the United Provinces while Charles was in exile. He had grown to become a famous soldier in the wars of the period. He was also, due to being the son of Charles II and because of his strongly held Protestant faith, someone who James II believed was a serious threat to his crown. Accordingly, before the Duke made his attempt, James asked William of Orange, the Stadholder of United Provinces to have the Duke arrested and sent to England. William refused the request, stating he would give the Duke sanctuary, as a way to safeguard the Protestant faith in England.78 The problem was that the Duke of Monmouth did not want sanctuary. Rather, he wanted the Crown of England and the associated thrones. This meant he would attempt to topple the

newly placed James II from the power he held. The justification for the rebellion was especially notable for its religious justification. Thus, ‘our religion [is] the most valuable blessing we lay claim unto … [and he was] resolved to spend our blood for preserving it to ourselves and posterity’.79 James responded to these words by having the Declaration by the Duke of Monmouth burnt by the hangman, the Duke proclaimed a traitor, and offering a reward of thousands of pounds to whomever could kill him first. The Duke landed with three ships of volunteers in Dorset, in early June 1685. These forces, and those who flocked to his banner, then collided against the forces of the King at Sedgemoor (in Somerset) on 6 July. The Duke’s 3,000 men were defeated (and he lost about half) by an equally sized force fielded by King James. The Duke was then captured, taken to London, and beheaded for treason, as were between dozens and hundreds of the other rebels. Further, over 300 were sold as slaves, and an additional 800 were sent to the plantations in the Caribbean. Although most of the population winced at the severity of the sentences, most felt the Crown was not wrong. The recent respectful behaviour of James II upon his accession, as opposed to the actions of James Scott, made it look like it was the Duke, not the King, who was the religious fanatic attempting to seize power by force.80 Despite this solid beginning for James II, over the following three years, he managed to completely alienate most of the population of England to the point that if they were not willing to fight him in 1685, by 1688, they were no longer willing to support him. Although many of these reasons for this change in attitude overlap with constitutional considerations,81 a strong theme of religion increasingly, came to the fore. For example, although his setting up of a standing army was a constitutional concern, the way he flouted the Test Acts to grant personal commissions to Catholics as officers in the military, angered most, as in doing so, he said that as king, these laws did not apply to him. This same placement of his favourites was then repeated in many other places of influence, ranging from the judiciary through to the universities. His enhanced surveillance and censorship measures were unpopular, as was his cold approach in dealing with the Huguenot refugees from France who sought sanctuary in England.82 Of equal concern to much of the population under the rule of King James II, was that James Francis Edward Stuart, his son by his (second) wife Mary of Modena, was born on 10 June, 1688. Prior to this birth, the assumption was that one or other of his two Protestant daughters from his first marriage would come to rule. Specifically, Mary (who was by now married to William of Orange of the United Provinces), followed by Anne (who was married to Prince George of Denmark), were presumed to be next in line for the thrones of England, Scotland and Ireland. The birth of James Francis turned all of these presumptions upside down, even more so when James drafted a new will in which his two Protestant daughters from his first marriage were completely excluded, and a continuity of the Catholic monarchs on the thrones of England, Scotland and Ireland now looked highly likely.83 Despite these emerging problems, on 4 April 1687 (and again in April 1688) James promised liberty of conscience across a wide spectrum on England, Scotland and Ireland for all Dissenters (from the official Anglican faith) and Catholics. The Declaration of Indulgence, stated,

… all manner of penal laws of matters ecclesiastical, for not coming to church, or not receiving the Sacrament, or for any other nonconformity to the religion established … be immediately suspended … [to] our loving subject, we do freely give them leave to meet and serve God after their own way and manner, be it in private houses or places purposely built … [but]. nothing [can] be preached or taught … which may tend to alienate the hearts of our people from us or our government; and that their meetings and assemblies be peaceably, openly, and publicly held, and all persons freely admitted to them …84

In legal terms, this Declaration appeared to annul the Test Acts. In practical terms, the implications of the Declaration was that all those imprisoned for breaches of the earlier laws were released, and permissions were given for the public worship of their faith and the end of censorship on their literature. This was seen as being of greater benefit for Catholics than dissenting Protestants, as the latter were increasingly reconciling with the authorities, while the fear of Catholicism was being flamed by the actions of Louis XIV, on the other side of the English Channel. The specific problem for James was that some leading citizens refused to read out the Declaration. For this disobedience, he had them arrested. Those taken and incarcerated included seven bishops, who were charged with sedition. This response by the King, more than any other, sparked outrage across the country, as Anglicans everywhere, refused to read the King’s Declaration. The anger of James rose even more when those facing the charges were acquitted. To these concerns, a final problem was added. This was that James had decided to end the Parliamentary session and was now beginning to prepare (and reward) candidates for the next election who would be beholden to him. At this point, the majority of people in England and Scotland began to fear that James II was determined to destroy the religious and political orientation of the land and move towards the type of royal absolutism practiced in France. Although James tried to backtrack when he suddenly became aware of the discontent, such as by declaring that Catholics would not be eligible for election in the forthcoming Parliament, to most it was too little, too late.85 (v) The Glorious Revolution It was this combination of circumstances that forced leaders of both political parties (the Tories and the Whigs) within the English Parliament to come together to avert what could easily become a crisis. The solution they came up with was to replace James II by inviting his daughter from his first marriage, Mary, and her husband, William of Orange of the United Provinces, to take his place. Both Mary and William were Protestants, and both were grandchildren of Charles I of England. Until the birth of James Francis Edward Stuart, Mary was the expected heir to the throne and William was third in line. The invitation, written by seven nobles (including three earls, one viscount and one bishop), was drafted on the day that the seven bishops were acquitted of sedition. It was received by William on 30 June 1688. This invitation requested help from William of Orange and his wife Mary, as, in addition to the violation of their civil liberties,86 it alleged the English people were also, ‘dissatisfied with the present conduct of the government, in relation to their religion’ to which they called

upon William and Mary to intervene to, ‘secure them from being destroyed’.87 William and Mary, although smitten with the offer to obtain power over the one most important countries in Europe (even if it meant dethroning their father and father-in-law), first had to first navigate the bulkheads of European politics to smooth the transition to the invasion. When they achieved the green light to proceed, William issued his justifications for the invasion in his Declaration of the Hague on 10 October 1688. The justification for the invasion were twofold. First, there was the question of respect for Parliament, and second, ‘for the Protestant Religion and Liberty’.88 Of this second aspect, William condemned the practice of James II to, inter alia, remove prominent Protestants from positions and swap them with Catholics, and attempt to repeal the Test Acts. William especially highlighted the intentions of James to introduce Catholicism to the detriment of the existing status quo and the legal structure it rested upon. Thus: [T]he alteration of religion … and that … [Catholic] religion, which is contrary to law, is endeavoured to be introduced; upon which those who are most immediately concerned in it are indispensably bound to endeavour to preserve and maintain the established laws, liberties and customs, and, above all, the religion and worship of God, that is established among them; and to take such an effectual care, that the inhabitants of the said state or kingdom may neither be deprived of their religion or of their civil rights.89

After James II had fled and William and Mary were made joint monarchs, on the question of religion, their Coronation Oath made the obligation of the monarchs to maintain and support the Anglican Church unequivocal. Such a strong defence was necessary, for as the 1689 Bill of Rights that followed recorded, the previous King James II had, inter alia, ‘endeavour[ed] to subvert and extirpate the Protestant religion’.90 Despite the importance of the question of religion in the Glorious Revolution, the 1689 Bill of Rights said little about religious liberty. The topic was not properly addressed until the Toleration Act91 was passed in the same year. This law reflected in the thinking of John Locke (and Samuel Pufendorf) extending freedom of worship. Locke’s Letter Concerning Toleration explained: Since you are pleased to enquire what are my thoughts about the mutual toleration of Christians in their different professions of religion, I must …. answer you freely, that I esteem that toleration to be the chief characteristic mark of the true church.92

The way this principle played out under the new law was that tolerance was applied, but only to other non-Anglican Protestants, such as Quakers and Baptists. This freedom of worship did not apply to Catholics or atheists. To claim this freedom, dissenting non-Anglican ministers still had to swear loyalty to the king and abjure some theological quibbles. Nonetheless, if they did, they were now allowed to worship in their own meeting house, as long as they were registered and kept the doors unlocked. They were also able to hold public office but, as with previously, they still had to comply with the Test Acts, in terms of taking an oath of fidelity to the ruler. However, several other social options, such as going to university or various professions, were still closed to them.93 For the Catholics in England, although discrimination continued, the disturbances became less. Thus, although a priest who married a Catholic couple could be fined if caught, the

marriage was nonetheless legal, and with it, all the normal rights of inheritance. Nonetheless, the saying of mass remained a felony if the culprit was a foreigner, and potentially high treason if they were a native. These laws were tightened in 1698 with the Popery Act. This placed a stronger emphasis upon the persecution and removal of Catholic leaders such as bishops, priests and/or Jesuits found within England or Scotland.94 Of note, the Licencing Act (of 1643) finally lapsed in 1694. This signalled the end of most censorship in England. Although the threat of defamation remained strong, official censorship came to an end. This exception to this was with blasphemy, of which the 1698 Blasphemy Act had an influence. This law was primarily built around anger from yet another form of religious thinking (Deism) which was making progress in this age. The new 1698 law made it a crime to, inter alia, deny the truth of Christianity or to deny the Bible as divine authority. Although it only applied relatively soft penalties (three years in jail for a second offence, which was much better than death, as in the past) it was rarely implemented. Nonetheless, the Secretary of State remained busy for the following decades issuing warrants for the arrest of authors, printers and publishers of, inter alia, many forms of non-Anglican theology. This meant that Catholic devotional literature remained prohibited, while other non-Anglican Protestant faiths and emerging theological debates, providing they did not strike too hard at the core of religious faith (such as atheists), were, tolerated in the first few decades that followed this law.95 (vi) Ireland The final point to note about the question of religion in this part of the world as the Glorious Revolution turned into the Nine Years War, is what happened in Ireland. Here, after their conflict ended, there was the appearance of tolerance. For example, in the Treaty of Limerick with the soldiers who had fought for James II, but wanted to stay in Ireland (and not take the offer of going to France), the English Crown promised, inter alia: The Roman Catholics of this kingdom shall enjoy such privileges in the exercise of their religion as are consistent with the laws of Ireland, or as they did enjoy in the reign of king Charles II, and their majesties, as soon as their affairs will permit them to summon a parliament in this kingdom, will endeavour to procure the said Roman Catholics such farther security in that particular, as may preserve them from any disturbance upon the account of their said religion.96

Additional articles promised them security of their property, the right to retain some of their arms and amnesties for their recent support of James II. All of these were contingent on their willingness to accept an oath of allegiance to William III. Despite these promises, compliance with them was short. Although William may have intended to uphold them, the Protestants in control of the Irish Parliament did not. In itself, this was not a surprise, as the requirements to obtain eligibility to sit in the Irish Parliament were very discriminatory. That is, members had to not only swear a promise of fidelity to William III, but also, a swear that they, as a member of the Irish Parliament, they did not believe, ‘in the sacrament of the Lord’s supper … [nor] … transmutation of the elements of bread and wine … or adoration of the Virgin Mary’. And, that they:

[A]bhor, detest, and abjure, as impious and heretical, that damnable doctrine … that princes excommunicated by the Pope … may be deposed or murdered by their subjects … and I do declare that no foreign prince … hath or ought to have any jurisdiction, power, superiority, pre-eminence or authority, ecclesiastical or spiritual, within this realm.97

The result, in practice, was that although much of the land confiscated from the recent generation of Irish rebels was returned, the promises of the protection of their civil liberties, (especially in terms of religious toleration), were not met, and intolerance became considerably worse, not better. This new decline began with sequence of so-called Penal Laws which started to emerge from the Irish Parliament. The first, the Education Act of 1695, prohibited Catholics from sending their children to be educated abroad. The second, the Banishment Act of 1697, sought to remove all Catholic bishops from Ireland; while the third, the Registration Act of 1704 had all Catholic priests and clergy register, but they had to stay in the areas where they were registered. Those unregistered had to leave or be charged with treason. In the same year, the 1704 (and later 1709) Act to Prevent the Growth of Popery was built upon a belief that there were still Catholics in Ireland trying to, ‘persuade and pervert [others] from the Protestant faith … and [causing] disquiet … and discomfort’.98 To combat this perceived problem the 1704 law imposed the rule that no person of the Catholic faith could be engaged in the education of children. In addition, every Catholic was, ‘made incapable, to buy, purchase … any manors, lands or tenements’.99 Further, existing property rights had to be divested at the end of the life-time of the Catholic holders, with a very strong preference that the undivided asset go to any Protestants (especially the oldest male) within the family. If there were no Protestants in the family, then the lands had to be divided equally. The result was that, many Catholic parents sent their sons overseas (despite the 1695 law), leaving just one son so the asset would not be divided, and/or brought up one of their children as a Protestant, so that their asset could be kept intact. Either way, the impact of the law was monumental in the breaking up of the large Catholic estates and creating a steady stream of Irish to the Continent (especially France) to look for opportunities there, such as in the French military. The result was that by the turn of the eighteenth century, only 14% of Irish land was still in Catholic hands.100 (vii) Succession to the Throne of England and the Birth of Britain Although the question of religion was not a primary justification for the conflict against the external neighbours during the War of Spanish Succession, it was an important consideration with regard to the domestic realm, at the constitutional level, during that war. That is, while few Catholics flocked to the banner of the Jacobite uprisings in 1715 (as well as 1719 and 1745), when the issue became one of monarchy, the question of religion was foremost. This was made clear in the 1701 Act of Settlement which was created to govern, ‘the succession of the crown in the Protestant line, for the happiness of the nation and the security of our religion’.101 It was then added that anyone who held: [C]ommunion with the … Church of Rome, or should profess the popish religion, or marry a papist, should be excluded, and are … for ever incapable to inherit, possess, or enjoy the Crown and government of this realm, and Ireland, and the dominions thereunto belonging, or any part of the same, or to have, use, or exercise any regal power, authority, or

jurisdiction within the same.102

Further, any Protestant who came to the throne (on the assumption that they originated from a foreign land) ‘shall join in communion with the Church of England’.103 With these principles in mind, the next person in line for the thrones of England, Scotland and Ireland, was Anne. Anne was the sister to Queen Mary (who had reigned with her husband William III since the Glorious Revolution in 1688). William died in 1702, having ruled alone after Mary had died in 1694. Anne took over on the death of William and reined until 1714.104 It was during the reign of Queen Anne that two pieces of law originated that are important. The first was a treaty between Britain and the United Provinces in 1706105 for securing the Protestant Succession. With this, the United Provinces agreed to defend the Protestant line of monarchs on the throne of England. Specifically: The Succession to the Crown of England, having been regulated by an Act of Parliament … that … no person, potentate, or State, should under any pretext, or for any cause whatsoever, pretend to call into the question the settlement which the Parliament had made … [but if so done, the two countries will together] … oppose them, by sea as by land.106

The second law of importance was the 1707 Acts of Union. This was made up of two pieces of legislation, in which the Parliaments of England and Scotland became, ‘United in One Kingdom by the Name of Great Britain’.107 This union was forged, in large part, because of the fear that unless the kingdoms were turned into one throne, another (Catholic, Stuart) pretender could attempt to re-enter Scotland, and again, create a separate kingdom to govern. To prevent this, the importance of the Protestant faith within the union was underlined, with the rule explaining that the Crown could only be enjoyed by Protestants, and ‘papists or a person marrying a papist being naturally dead’.108 To help smooth the relationship, the Protestant Religion and Presbyterian Church Act of 1707109 ensured that the Presbyterian Church of Scotland, with its own (non-Anglican) flavour of the Protestant faith, was not only one of the official approved faiths in the new realm, but it would also be ongoing in perpetuity, and not altered by the more Anglican English. (viii) The Continuity of Intolerance At the micro level in Britain, although discrimination still existed against non-Anglicans (especially Catholics), tolerance for private (not public) worship, started to become a much more accepted way of thinking in early eighteenth century Britain, as people became more focused on economic, social and political relationships, rather than using theology as a reason to divide. The only notable push-back was the Occasional Conformity Act110 of 1711. This was designed to catch out those who were not Anglican, but occasionally pretended to be, to be in compliance with Test Acts of the century beforehand. If discovered, they would be both fined and excluded from all forms of public office. This tightening was meant to be followed by the Schism Act of 1714 which aimed to ensure that anyone who provided education, had to be licensed by a bishop (and conform to the Anglican Church). However, the Schism Act did not come into force (as Queen Anne

died, and was replaced by King George I) and the Occasional Conformity Act was repealed in 1718, leaving only the Test Acts and Corporation Acts from the century before in place. Although this still meant that discrimination against most non-Anglicans continued, the political interest in upholding these laws was waning.111 The exception to this waning was in Ireland. There, unlike with the 1707 Acts of Union with Scotland, there was no consideration of partnership, but rather, that it would continue to be governed via an Irish (Protestant) Church, an Irish peerage and an Irish Parliament. In addition, the presence of an English-nominated Lord Lieutenant would ensure that all laws passed in Dublin, were consistent with the goals of Westminster. This hierarchy was then confirmed in the 1719 Declaratory Act, ‘for the better securing the dependency of the Kingdom of Ireland on the Crown of Great Britain’. This ensured that the Parliament of Britain had the right to have, ‘full power and authority to make laws and statutes … to bind the kingdom and the people of Ireland’112 and that the British House of Lords had final jurisdiction for Irish court cases. Then, just to double down on the expected outcomes, the 1727 Disenfrancising Act prohibited all Catholics in Ireland from the right to vote for members of the Irish Parliament.113 (ix) Towards Tolerance Inside England, but outside Ireland, the question of religious tolerance began to open up over the following decades. This meant that even politically radical and theologically challenging new faiths, such as with John Wesley and his Methodist teachings, from 1739 onwards, were not publicly supressed. This change was possible, as Britain, under the influence of its wise heads like that of David Hume, would argue for the toleration of all religious faiths, except those who were fanatical or dangerous to others. Such tolerance, it was suggested, was necessary due to the sheer inability of the human mind to know the answers to metaphysical questions. He added that without tolerance, society could not progress, as unjustified intolerance only creates civil strife.114 Britain then took a step forward in this area during the War of Austrian Succession. This occurred following strong Jewish support, as both volunteers around London and in their help with controlling national financial stability during the 1745 Jacobite uprising. A few years later, Parliament tried to recognise this assistance with the 1753 Jewish Naturalisation Act (for foreign Jewish people coming to Britain). However, the law only stood for one year, before it was withdrawn due to widespread opposition of the fear of foreign ownership over property. Although this law was withdrawn, in practice, Jewish people already in Britain continued to retain strong rights and freedoms. This progress was also reflected the United Provinces, and other aspiring areas of tolerance, on questions of religion such as with Frederick the Great and Prussia, who encouraged wealthy Jewish people to his lands.115 The next conflict, that of the Seven Years War, again, propelled Britain forward in its thinking about tolerance. This occurred because of the fruits of victory that Britain acquired, namely, Canada – with its largely French and Catholic populations within it. This acquisition forced a major rethink around religious policies. The choice the British Parliament had was

to either try to stretch the existing discriminatory legislation over these new areas or try something different. This need for difference occurred at exactly the same time that matters in the English colonies in the Americas were beginning to look troublesome. Accordingly, with the 1774 Quebec Act, the British Crown guaranteed that Catholics in that region the right to, ‘hold and enjoy the free exercise of that religion’,116 but they were still subject to the British king’s supremacy, and had to accept his maintenance and support of the Protestant faith. For Britain, this was a radical step, as for the first time, these Catholics were given civil rights equal to the already privileged groups, unlike any other area under British rule.117 Four years later, the 1778 Papist Act attempted to replicate some of this tolerance in Britain. This law, although not conferring full equality, aimed to increase property rights and ease the position on education within the Catholic faith. The prosecution of priests was stopped, as was the threat of perpetual imprisonment for running a Catholic school. To obtain these benefits, an oath of loyalty towards the reigning sovereign (and abjuration of the Stuart claims to the throne of Britain) was required. The oath also required the denial of certain doctrines that were believed to be common in Catholicism (such as the right to kill excommunicated people).118 In the same year of 1778, progress finally started to occur in Ireland. Not only were Catholics increasingly allowed to access the British army, the Irish Parliament passed their Catholic Relief Act119 (and supplementary laws thereafter), significantly freeing up the rights of Catholics to purchase and acquire property. Soon after, Catholics were finally allowed into higher education in Ireland, with Trinity College, Dublin finally opening its doors to them. In England, although the 1778 law progressed relatively peacefully, when attempts were made to open up the British army to Catholic officers (as soldiers had already been possible since the 1750s) a riot broke out in London on 2 June 1780, when a crowd of more than 60,000 marched on Westminster to present a petition against the latest development. This quickly degenerated and 10,000 troops had to be called out in an attempt to control what became a week of anarchy, as drunken crowds burned Catholic churches, the Bank of England and three prisons. Anywhere between 285 and 850 of the rioters were killed, and a further 450 arrested, of which 25 were hanged.120 Despite these unprecedented riots, King George III would not change his mind, and the laws restricting some (but certainly not all) of the worst intolerances of the past century, stood. The British Parliament then took a further step forwards in 1791 with their Catholic Relief Act. This continued to expand their educational options, the worship of their faith, and their access to previously restricted professions, such as the law. Although there was still an oath of allegiance to be taken, and restrictions imposed on the registration of priests and teachers, the opening of assemblies, and a ban on steeples, bells, chapels and monastic schools, the trend was better than in the past. Two years later, in 1793, as the French Revolution had turned into an actual war against the British and the French began targeting their own (Catholic) religious authorities, the British moved again, giving Catholics in England and Scotland even greater liberty, allowing them (if they met the property requirements) to vote in parliamentary elections. King George also decided to give sanctuary to the French Catholic priests who were fleeing the revolution,

as he now argued it was not they who were ‘the enemies of mankind’.121 With Ireland, attempts at reconciliation with the Catholic majority were still difficult. Proposals in 1793122 to allow Catholics to sit as elected members of the Irish Parliament were rejected, as were those to allow Catholics to contest key positions such as judges, governors, and high-ranking members of the military. Although these doors remained closed, others opened, allowing Catholics to enter some of the previously protected professions. As this occurred in the north of Ireland, disturbances broke out. This resulted in the formation of the Orange Order, whose objective was to defend Protestant economic and social rights, interests and identity, over their Catholic neighbours.123

5.

Religion in the Revolutionary Wars

(a) The American War of Independence Religion was an important consideration in the American Revolution, but not in the same way as other conflicts. This land was populated in large part by a diversity of colonists of a multitude of (largely Protestant) faiths. There were also considerable numbers of Irish Catholics. Two factors made these groups unique. First, they were commonly seeking greater religious freedom that had been available in either Britain or on the continent of Europe. Second, they showed that people of different religious faiths could co-exist, cooperate and prosper, without divisions based on theology. The result was a revolution in which religious considerations were very secondary. That is, although at the individual and community level many of local leaders would seek, and propagate, religious guidance and interpretations on the American War of Independence, neither the Declaration of Independence nor Thomas Paine’s Common Sense, had any mention of religion as a justification for the conflict.124 The closest the consideration of religion got in this debate was with the passing of the Quebec Act by the British Parliament, giving equal rights and religious tolerance to (French) Catholics in the newly acquired Canadian provinces. Although this was seen as outrageous to many as the American colonists had been fighting these peoples’, off and on, since the seventeenth century, it overlapped with their greater annoyance, that this law had been made without their involvement, let alone consent. However, rather than allowing this issue to be turned into one about religion, it was turned into one about the failure of the British authorities to include them in legislative matters of great importance to the colonists.125 While most of the Dissenting Protestant faiths and Irish Catholics pushed towards the revolution, some other Protestant faiths were much more nuanced in their support. This was most evident with the Anglicans, who by virtue of being tied to Britain as its official faith (and given that loyalty to the monarch was a priority) had their positions often (but not always) pointing towards the Crown and the privileges it often offered them. The Quakers, despite suffering discrimination and violence at the hands of the British Crown in the past found their community split down the middle. Some wanted to fight (for the Republic) while others did not believe in the use of violence for any purpose. Others were more sympathetic

to rule by Britain, fearing persecution if some of the other dissenting Protestant groups gained political power. The result for both of these groups, Anglicans and Quakers, is that they were subject to deep scepticism and surveillance, by the revolutionary communities around them.126 When it came to dealing with the question of religion and tolerance when the war with Britain had ended, although some of the most important voices like Thomas Paine127 were intolerant of all religions, others were more welcoming. For example, Thomas Jefferson128 was in favour of all religious groups, provided they did not injure others, whereas George Washington would explain in 1790 that his government would, ‘give to bigotry no sanction’.129 To achieve such goals, the founding fathers recognised that, unlike in Europe, to be truly neutral, there could be no preferred religious provider. Accordingly, the first words to the first Amendment to the United States Congress of 1791 stated, ‘Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof’. What this meant in practice, was that in as much as each person was free to follow their own faith (up to the point that it could physically hurt others), the government would not establish an official religion, or unduly favour one faith over another. Rather, there would, at the federal level, be a wall of separation between church and state. However, that wall at the state level often remained very low. For example, in Pennsylvania, the freedom of religion only went so far as having to believe in at least one version of the Christian faith. Those with deist or atheist beliefs still ran the strong risk of being deprived of legal rights. This requirement was heightened for those in the state legislature, who had to acknowledge the divine inspiration of the Old and New Testaments.130 (b) The French Revolution (i) An Intolerant Land France began the eighteenth century as an exceptionally intolerant country on the question of religion. The intolerance that Louis XIV had entrenched remained powerful for decades to come, with the result being that any residual Huguenot assemblies were prohibited under penalty of galleys for men and imprisonment for women. Those who went abroad for marriage or baptism were heavily fined, and Protestant preachers, if caught, were liable to be hanged. These practices continued into the 1760s, and it was not until 1762 when some French Huguenot noblemen who attempted to rescue their pastor (who was to be hanged), and were, themselves condemned and beheaded, that there was a public outrage over these actions. The last Protestant pastor to be martyred in France died in prison in 1771, and the last Protestant galley slaves were freed in 1775. It was not until a dozen years later, in 1787, that the Edict of Toleration was promulgated, legitimising Protestant marriages, inheritance and burial, in exclusive or mixed cemeteries. However, Protestants were still not allowed to worship in public. Similarly, small Jewish communities existed, but these were subject to a

discriminatory poll tax and legislative restrictions over where they could live.131 In addition, although tolerance was slowly beginning to dawn in pre-revolutionary France, the power of the Catholic Church remained massive. Known as the First Estate, this group owned 10% of the land in France and were exempt from most taxes. (ii) A Land of Radical Thought From the middle of the eighteenth century, France was a hotbed of scholars who set about undermining the importance of religion. For example, in 1748, Julian Offray de la Mettrie argued that only by uprooting the ideas of God and immortality could humanity start to order its world rationally. For such a thesis, he had to flee, eventually finding sanctuary with Frederick the Great. Other luminaries, such as Denis Diderot argued for a society in which on questions of theology, tolerance, not intolerance, was the basis of social civility. Thus: Instruction, persuasion and prayer – these are the only legitimate means of spreading religion … Every practice tending to stir up the people, to arm nations and soak the soil with blood is impious. It is impious to seek to impose laws upon conscience, the universal principle of our actions. Conscience must be enlightened and not constrained. Men who fall into error in good faith should be pitied, never punished. Neither men of good faith nor men of bad faith should be subject to torment; judgement over them must be left to God.132

Such views were so repugnant to the authorities in France, that Diderot not only found his work on the Index/Catalogue of Prohibited Books issued by the Papacy, he, along with other scholars who were starting to question the power of religious authorities, was also imprisoned for three months in 1749. Such a situation would lead to the great Montesquieu to call loudly to keep politics and religion strictly segregated – for which he, also, would have his worked censored by Rome. Montesquieu explained that while religion aimed at the perfection of the individual, law should aim for the welfare of society, to which tolerance should be the general goal. Thus, tolerance on religious questions was to be encouraged, only the non tolerant, were not to be tolerated.133 In the decades that followed, the historian Jean-François Marmontel had to spend 11 days in the Bastille because he questioned the right to exterminate heresy by the sword. Others, such as Jean Jacques Rousseau had to flee France when the Archbishop of Paris censored his Emile and the Paris Parlement had it burnt. From such experiences, Rousseau, while appreciating the social value of religion, would try to write Christianity out of the picture. In his view, the sovereign needed to devise, ‘a purely civil profession of faith, the articles of which it belongs to the sovereign to establish, not exactly as dogmas of religion, but as sentiments of sociability’.134 He would add that sociability requires that, ‘tolerance should be shown to all those who tolerate others, so long as their dogmas contain nothing contrary to the duties of a citizen’.135 Other pivotal figures within the French Enlightenment pushed even further. Paul-Henry Thiry (Baron) d’Holbach, sugessted that, ‘ignorance and fear are the two hinges of all religions’.136 He argued (in 1761) not only against religion on theological grounds (the impossibility of an infinite being having relationships with finite ones) but also on political

ones. He saw religion as a roadblock to human advancement, being both anti-science and antithetical to the values needed to build a progressive society. He concluded, ‘to discover the true principles of morality, men have no need of theology, of revelation, or of gods: They have need only of common sense’.137 Finally of note, the famous François-Marie Arouet – more commonly known as Voltaire – added the weight of his writings to this area. He argued directly against religion seeing it as the source of civil disorder, intolerance, persecution and corruption. He explained, ‘so long as there are rogues and fools in the world, there will always be religion. There can be no question that ours is the most ridiculous, absurd and bloodthirsty that ever infected the Earth’.138 Although Voltaire suggested that, ‘religion everywhere must be purged’139 as an intermediate step, he (despite his own anti-semitism),140 argued for tolerance, as this was ‘the prerogative of humanity’. This was necessary because, ‘we are all steeped in weakness and errors’.141 Voltaire added that tolerance also made sense for political reasons, or as he explained of England at the time: If you enter the London Stock Exchange … you will see the representatives of different nations gathered there for the service of mankind. There the Jew, the Muhammadan and the Christian do business together as if they were of the same religion, and they give the name of ‘infidel’ only to those who go bankrupt.142

(iii) The Established Religion in the Most Radical Revolution The French Revolution was the most radical upheaval during the period that this volume covers. On the topic of religion, a combination of traditional intolerance, radical philosophy, and an entrenched and privileged position of the Catholic Church in France, were all put into the mix. Very quickly, it was apparent that things were going to change. The first evidence of this occurred on 26 August 1789 when the idea of including explicit recognition of the predominance of the Catholic Church in France, in the opening of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Citizen was rejected. Next to this refusal to give the Catholic Church in France a preferred status Article 10 of the Declaration made the prima-facie right of freedom of religious choice, an entitlement of every French citizen. This stated: No-one should be disturbed on account of his opinion, even religious, provided their manifestation does not upset the public order established by law.143

At the end of December 1789, the National Assembly ended most discrimination on the grounds of religious orientation. Specifically, ‘non-Catholics who have fulfilled all other conditions prescribed [citizens, with loyalty to France] may be elected to and administrative body without exception … [and] … are eligible for all civil and military offices’.144 Full equality for Jewish citizens was granted in late September 1791.145 While moving towards tolerance for different religious faiths, the National Assembly began to strip down the power of the Catholic Church in France. In August 1789, they eliminated the tithe and nationalised church lands, stripping the church of its resources and paving the way for the transformation of Catholic clergy into paid employees of the state. In

June 1790, the radicals in Avignon, a type of papal territory within French boundaries, voted to annex themselves, unambiguously, to France. Although many in this region did not want to become part of France, the National Assembly in Paris agreed with the proposal and annexed the area in September 1791. This was defended as the reunion of true French citizens to their mother country.146 As the nation would, henceforth, provide financial support for the Church, the National Assembly claimed the right to be involved in ecclesiastical matters. This ranged from setting salaries to selection processes, and, critically, the clergy having to swear an oath of allegiance to, ‘maintain with their whole power the Constitution decreed by the National Assembly’.147 Those who refused to take such an oath of loyalty faced dismissal. In addition, the clergy were, henceforth, to be elected by the laity, Catholic or not, and known as citizen-priests. The result was the abolition of 52 episcopal sees, and of the clergy in France (about 125,000), only about half of the parish priests decided to stay on, as did only a handful of (7) bishops.148 It was the requirement that the clergy had to take an oath of allegiance to the French authorities, (not to Rome and the Papacy) that finally sparked Pope Pius into action. While he had weathered the loss of Avignon, revenues and Church property, it was the loss of loyalty that finally made him speak up. Before this, he had tried to keep a low profile, scared of repeating what had happened with Henry VIII centuries earlier in England, sending the whole country into schism. However, the oath of allegiance was a step too far for the Pope. In March 1791, he denounced the new French Constitution as schismatic. He then declared the ordinations of the seven bishops who took the offensive oath of loyalty to be sacrilegious and suspended all priests who had also taken the oath. The French King Louis XVI attempted to stop the crisis in late November 1791, with the small piece of power he still possessed, when he vetoed the decree (due to his own devotion to Catholicism and his wish to prevent a schism), enforcing the oath of loyalty from Church officials to France (not Rome). However, no-one took any notice and the local authorities implemented it anyway.149 In 1792, the focus of the revolutionaries in France turned to anger and violence against the Catholic Church. By the time the war broke out, all the clergy who had refused to pledge their allegiance to the Constitution were given two weeks to leave France. Those who continued to maintain this position, and stay in power, were at extreme risk of becoming targets in the violence that swept the land. For example, in 1792 in Lyon, a campaign of mass executions accounted for well over 100 priests and nuns. Similar executions also occurred in other cities. Those who still refused the oath of loyalty and continued to practise were forcibly deported from the land, with a couple of thousand of such people being pushed over the border over the coming years.150 (iv) A New Cult From October 1793, the government forbade celebrations of Christianity, even as embodied in the Constitutional Church, thus launching a programme of de-Christianisation. In a deliberate effort to erase all traces of the Christian and royalist past, the radical ‘Republic of

Virtue’ was inaugurated to inspire patriotism as the sole basis for a new national order. Notre Dame was renamed the Temple of Reason, and a new calendar, organised around a ten-day week, with terms from the natural world signifying the names of days and months, was propagated.151 From late 1793, the cult of the Supreme Being was instigated as a type of civic mechanism to fill the hole left by the exit of Christianity. It was in this gap that the revolution appeared to become a religion in itself. On 7 May 1794, the National Convention passed a decree that began, ‘the French people recognise the existence of the Supreme Being and the immortality of the soul’. It then went on that the only ‘cult’ worthy of this being, was: [T]he practice of the duties of man … to detest bad faith and tyranny, to punish tyrants and traitors, to aid the unfortunate, respect the weak, defend the oppressed … and to be unjust to no-one.152

The credos that associated with such thinking ranged from affirmations such as, ‘I believe in a Supreme Being who had made men free and equal,’ through to a list of modern ‘miracles’ such as those achieved by the ‘Holy Guillotine’.153 To support the new state religion, further laws were passed which prohibited religious displays (such as processions or the wearing of clerical vestments) of the conventional Church. The cumulative result of all these measures, combined with the political temperature of the time, was that the public practice of the Christian religion in France rapidly declined. By the middle of 1794, only about 150 of the pre-revolutionary parishes were still offering Mass.154 (v) Rebalance Despite their best efforts, the radicals of the French Revolution could not make Catholic Christianity disappear from France. Rather, it continued to operate as the people’s need for their traditional faith lingered on. This realisation, combined with the revolution slowly becoming less radical meant that when the French Directory was established, practices started to calm. Thereafter, the existence of the Catholic Church within France became easier, provided they stayed out of politics and operated under considerable restrictions. To ensure there was no mistake about this, the Catholic Church was explicitly separated from all aspects of governmental policy on 21 February 1795. Henceforth, Catholics were allowed to remain and practice their religion in France, but their position was now explicitly equal to all other religious flavours. They would never return to the heights that the First Estate once possessed. Even though Catholicism within France became easier to operate after 1795, the context was still coloured by the fact that the revolutionary forces were busy fighting in Italy, including both Austria and the Papal States. Although, peace was eventually achieved in this theatre in 1797 with the Treaty of Tolentino, any hopes of a longer-term reconciliation were dealt a severe blow in 1798, when French troops, following the killing of a French general in Rome, occupied the Papal states. On 10 February Pope Pius VI was forced from Rome (making it a Republic) and the Pontiff had to find sanctuary elsewhere in Italy.

6.

Conclusion

The period between 1650 and 1800 saw a radical change in the position that religion played between, and within, countries. Overall, with a strong tide of the Enlightenment, the influence of religion as a source of conflict with the western world declined. In terms of external conflict, the period was noticeable as one in which justifications for warfare on grounds of theology quickly shrank. This decline accelerated throughout the eighteenth century. Although there were exceptions to this trend (eg, warfare and theology continued to draw blood in eastern Europe, Switzerland and France) the provocations, typically, did not spread into wider regional or global wars. This meant that all the major conflicts of the period, namely, the Nine Years War, the War of Spanish Succession, the Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War, were not about religion. The exception was in eastern Europe where religious intolerance was used a justification for Russian intervention in Poland-Lithuania in the second half of the eighteenth century. In terms of internal conflict, most of the primary European countries progressed to a position in which tolerance of different faiths became the norm, not the exception, by the end of the eighteenth century. Although the Protestant countries moved faster on this equation, the Catholic countries, after 1760 and the ejection of Jesuits everywhere, began to mirror this progress. Even Habsburg Austria, a traditional bulkhead of conservative Catholicism, was moving quickly towards tolerance of different religious faiths in the last decades of the eighteenth century. A century earlier, midway through the seventeenth century, the reverse was the rule, with only a few Protestant countries inching their way towards religious tolerance. On the outskirts of this Protestant group was England, soon to become Britain. This land, for the 150 years of this study, struggled with how far it was willing to tolerate different faiths, and Catholics in particular. The intolerance and discrimination in Ireland, on the grounds of religion was particularly bad. Change only fully came about at the end of the eighteenth century when, with the French revolution, it became clear to the British that they (the Catholic Church) were now fighting the same revolutionary enemy. On the question of religion, the difference between the American and French revolutions, was that while the Americans adopted the position that tolerance of different religious faiths was the rule; and that there could be no national religious faith (with a strong wall between the Church and the State); the French went one step further. That is, although they agreed, in principle, with the idea of religious tolerance, they became intolerant of the Catholic Church in France. The revolutionary Republic made loyalty to the revolution an absolute prerequisite. This meant that those who previously held very privileged positions in the First Estate who failed to adapt to the new regime had to leave. Competing forms of secular organisation were set up, and when Napoleon entered Italy, he ended up in direct conflict with the Papacy and its associated territories. Although at the very end of the period of this study, in the last years before 1800, the revolution was beginning to calm on its tolerance for Catholicism in France, henceforth it was to be only one faith among many, and stripped the vast power it once possesed.

1 Dominguez, J (2017). ‘Religious Toleration in the Age of Enlightenment’. History of European Ideas. 43(4): 273–87; See Young, B (2000). ‘Religious History and the Eighteenth-Century Historian’. The Historical Journal. 43(3): 849–68. 2 This wording is from the ‘Indictment Against Sarah Good for Afflicting Sarah Bibber’. It is reprinted in Godbeer, R (ed.) The Salem Witch Hunt: A Brief History with Documents. (Saint Martins, Boston, 2011). 74, 75. 3 Nash, D (2008). ‘Blasphemy and the Strange Persistence of Providence in Britain since the Seventeenth Century’. Journal of Religious History. 32(4): 439–56; Harris, C (2011). ‘Witchcraft: From Crime to Civil Liberty’. Law and Justice. 167: 54–75; Bever, E (2009). ‘Witchcraft Prosecutions and the Decline of Magic’. The Journal of Interdisciplinary History. 40(2): 263–93; Bailey, M (2006). ‘The Disenchantment of Magic’. The American Historical Review. 111(2): 383–404; Levack, B (ed.) The Witchcraft Sourcebook. (Routledge, London, 2004). 163–66, 171, 221. 4 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 40–41, 50–55. 5 Gillespie, A (2017). The Causes of War (Hart, Oxford) III: 136–160. 6 Zouche, Z (1650). Law between Nations, and Questions Concerning the Same. (trans, Brierly, B, Baltimore Press, Maryland, 1911). 117. 7 See the 1656 Treaty between the Swiss Cantons, 4 CTS 49. 8 See the 1712 Peace between the Catholic and Protestant Swiss Cantons. 27 CTS 305. Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 44; Carsten, F (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 460–61, 483. 9 Goldstein, P (2012). An Inconvenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism. (Facing Ourselves, Massachusetts). 148– 49; Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 351–53. 10 The ‘Charter of the Estonian Principality, 1710’. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972) II: 334. 11 Liebich, A (2008). ‘Minority Rights in Historical Perspective’. Review of International Studies. 34(2): 243–63; Frost, R (2000). The Northern Wars, 1558–1721. (Pearson, Harlow). 170, 185; Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 374. 12 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 614. 13 Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London) 372; Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I: 392; Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 323, 339. 14 See Chapter II, III and V. 15 Coronation Oath, as in Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, Abingdon). 34. 16 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 44; Carsten, F (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 460–461, 483. 17 Louis, as noted in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 462. 18 Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 98–99; Sonnino, P (2009). ‘Louis XIV’s Religious Policy’. In Onnekink, D (ed.) War and Religion after Westphalia. (Ashgate, London). 17–24; Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 67. 19 See the 1685 Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Reprinted in Reddaway, F (ed.) Select Documents in European History, 1492–1715. (Methuen, London, 1930). II: 158; Goldstein, P (2012). An Inconvenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism. (Facing Ourselves, Massachusetts). 170; O’Brien, L (1931). ‘The Huguenot Policy of Louis XIV and Pope Innocent XI’. The Catholic Historical Review. 17(1): 29–42. 20 McCloy, S (1951). ‘The Persecution of the Huguenots in the 18th Century’. Church History 20(3): 56–79; O’Brien, L (1931). ‘The Huguenot Policy of Louis XIV and Pope Innocent XI’. The Catholic Historical Review. 17(1): 29–42. 21 Bryant, M (2007). ‘Brousson and Protestant Resistance to Louis XIV, 1647–1698’. French History. 21(4): 478–79; Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, Abingdon). 169–71; Beik, W (2003). ‘Persecution of a Minority’. Calliope 13(7): 32–50; Clark, S (1998). ‘International Competition and the Treatment of Minorities: Seventeenth Century Cases’.

American Journal of Sociology 103(5): 1267–308. 22 Named after Jacobus, the Latin form of James. 23 This quote from Louis on 6 December 1688 was to the Pope. It is reprinted in Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 161. 24 Bryant, M (2007). ‘Brousson and Protestant Resistance to Louis XIV, 1647–1698’. French History. 21(4): 478–79; Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, Abingdon). 169–71; Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Harlow). 179–81; Beik, W (2003). ‘Persecution of a Minority’. Calliope 13(7): 32–50; Clark, S (1998). ‘International Competition and the Treatment of Minorities: Seventeenth Century Cases’. American Journal of Sociology 103(5): 1267–308. 25 This quote is in Pincus, S (2009). 1688: The First Modern Revolution. (Yale University Press, London). 123; Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random, London). 343, 346; Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, Abingdon). 146–51; Turchetti, M (1991). ‘Religious Concord and Political Tolerance in Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century France’. The Sixteenth Century Journal. 22(1): 15–25; Carsten, F (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 138–39 26 Storrs, C (2009). ‘The Role of Religion in Spanish Foreign Policy in the Reign of Carlos II’. Also, Onnekink, D (2009). ‘The Dutch in the Nine Years War’. Both are in Onnekink, D (ed.) War and Religion after Westphalia. (Ashgate, Ashford).25, 44–47, 70, 72–73, 174–75; Pincus, S (2009). 1688: The First Modern Revolution. (Yale University Press, London). 123, 345–49; Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 339–40, 345. 27 See ‘Philip V Account of the Battle of Almansa’, as reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700–1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 34. 28 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 44, 74; Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 110; Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, Abingdon). 150, 159; Hood, J (1971). ‘Protestant-Catholic Relations and the Roots of the First Popular Counterrevolutionary Movement in France’. The Journal of Modern History. 43(2): 245–75. 29 See the 1720 Treaty between Hanover and Prussia for the Protection of the Protestant Religion. 31 CTS 171. 30 As noted in Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 455. See also, Thompson, A (2011). George II (Yale University Press, London). 96, 196, 248; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 338; Black, J (1990). ‘On the Old System and the Diplomatic Revolution of the Eighteenth Century’. The International History Review. 12(2): 301, 305; Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 119. 31 The Great Elector on Toleration, 1652, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 188. 32 See the ‘Readmission of Jews Into Brandenburg’. This is reprinted in Macartney, ibid, 258–59. Also, Seward, D (2013). The Bourbon Kings of France. (Thistle, London). 100; Goldstein, P (2012). An Inconvenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism. (Facing Ourselves, Massachusetts). 162. 33 Wernham, A (ed.) The Political Works of Spinoza. (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1958). 241. Also, Simonutti, L (2018). ‘Dutch Tolerance at the End of the Seventeenth Century’. History of European Ideas. 1–19; Johnson, N (2017). ‘Jewish Communities and City Growth in Preindustrial Europe’. Journal of Development Economics. 27: 339–54; Schorsch, J (2005). ‘Blacks, Jews and the Racial Imagination’. Jewish History. 19(1): 109–35. 34 As noted in Forst, R (2008). ‘Pierre Bayle’s Reflexive Theory of Toleration’. Nomos. 48: 78–113. Bartlett, R (2001). ‘On the Politics of Faith and Reason: The Project of Enlightenment in Pierre Bayle and Montesquieu’. The Journal of Politics. 63(1): 1–28; Sanberg, K (1965). ‘Pierre Jurieu’s Contribution to Bayle’s Dictionnaire’. Journal of the History of Philosophy. 3(1): 59–74. 35 Wernham, A (ed.) The Political Works of Spinoza. (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1958). 241. Tonder, L (2013). ‘Spinoza and the Theory of Active Tolerance’. Political Theory. 41(5): 687–09; Rosenthal, M (2001). ‘Tolerance as a Virtue in Spinoza’s Ethics’. Journal of the History of Philosophy 39(4): 535–57; Fradkin, H (1988). ‘The Separation of Religion and Politics: The Paradoxes of Spinoza’. The Review of Politics 50(4): 603–27. 36 Wernham, A (ed.) The Political Works of Spinoza. (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1958). 243.

37 See the, ‘Church Council’s Decision on Nikon, 1666’ and ‘Church Council Condemnation of the Schism, 1667’. Both are reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 257–59; Martin, D (2017). ‘Loyal to God: Old Believers, Oaths and Orders’. History and Anthropology. 28(4): 477–96. 38 See the ‘Decree Re-establishing the Monastery Prikaz, 1701’. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven). II: 363. 39 Krieger, L (1970). Kings and Philosophers, 1689–1789. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 50; Belhoff, M (1962). The Age of Absolutism: 1660–1815. (Harper, NYC). 134. 40 Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 240–41, 261, 315. 41 Catherine’s Instructions on a New Code of Laws, 1767. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, ibid, II: 405; Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 244–45, 297, 300–01. 42 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 326–36. 43 Miller, M (2016). ‘Turks, Titles and Tribute in Counter-Reformation Prague’. The Jewish Quarterly Review. 106(1): 42–75; Curtis, B (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 151–55; Murdock, G (2009). ‘Responses to Habsburg Persecution of Protestants in Seventeenth Century Hungary’. Austrian History Yearbook. 40: 37– 52; Portner, R (2009). ‘Policing the Subject: Confessional Absolutism and Communal Autonomy in Eighteenth Century Austria’. Austrian History Yearbook. 40: 71–84; Murdock, G (2009). ‘Responses to Habsburg Persecution of Protestants in Seventeenth Century Hungary’. Austrian History Yearbook. 40: 37–52; Hodson, B (2007). ‘The Development of Habsburg Policy in Hungary, 1683–90’. Austrian Yearbook. 38: 92–107. 44 As in Lindsay, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Old Regime. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1957). VII: 124, 233. 45 Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 362–66, 368; Scott, H (2003). ‘Religion and Realpolitik’. The International History Review 25(1): 37–62; Roehner, B (1997). ‘Jesuits and the State: A Comparative Study of Their Expulsions’. Religion. 27(2): 165–82. 46 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 283–85, 293, 391–95. 47 Fernandez, S (2011). ‘Toleration and Freedom in Expression in the Hispanic World: Between Enlightenment and Liberalism’. Past and Present. 211(1): 159–97; Portner, R (2009). ‘Confessional Absolutism and Communal Autonomy in Eighteenth Century Austria’. Austrian History Yearbook. 40: 71–84. 48 The patents on the seminaries and church appointments are reprinted in Macartney, C (ed.) The Habsburg and Hohenzollern Dynasties in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. (Harper, NYC). 153, 160. 49 See the Patent ‘On Toleration’. This is reprinted in Macartney, ibid. 154–56. 50 See the ‘Jewish Patents’ in Macartney, ibid. 164–69. Also, Goldstein, P (2012). An Inconvenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism. (Facing Ourselves, Massachusetts). 165. See also Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 167. 51 See pages 10–11. 52 See pages 12–13. 53 See Johnson, N (2017). ‘Jewish Communities and City Growth in Preindustrial Europe’. Journal of Development Economics. 27: 339–54; Goldstein, P (2012). An Inconvenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism. (Facing Ourselves, Massachusetts). 166; Schorsch, J (2005). ‘Blacks, Jews and the Racial Imagination’. Jewish History. 19(1): 109–35. 54 Oliver Cromwell, on toleration, as in Millward, J (ed.) Seventeenth Century: Portraits and Documents. (Hutchinson, Essex). 149. 55 Section XV of the Instrument of Government, 1653, as in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 410. 56 Loomie, A (2004). ‘Oliver Cromwell’s Policy towards the English Catholics’. The Catholic Historical Review. 90(1): 29–44; Drake, G (1966). ‘The Ideology of Oliver Cromwell’. Church History. 35(3): 259–72; Davis, J (1992). ‘Religion and the Struggle for Freedom in the English Revolution’. The Historical Journal 35(3): 507–30. 57 Zaret, D (1989). ‘Religion and the Rise of Liberal Democratic Ideology in 17th Century England.’ American Sociological Review. 54(2): 163–79.

58 See pages 17–18. 59 The ‘Declaration of Breda, 1660’, as in Millward, J (ed.) Seventeenth Century: Portraits and Documents. (Hutchinson, Essex). 116; Hardacre, P (1973). ‘The Genesis of the Declaration of Breda, 1657–1660’. Journal of Church and State 15(1): 65–82. 60 Goldstein, P (2012). An Inconvenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism. (Facing Ourselves, Massachusetts). 167. 61 The Act of Uniformity, 1662, as in Millward, ibid, 151. 62 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 164. 63 The 1664, First Conventicle Act in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 431. 64 The 1665 Five Mile Act in Adams, ibid. 433. 65 Murphy, A (2017). ‘From Practice to Theory to Practice: William Penn From Prison to the Founding of Pennsylvania’. History of European Ideas. 43(4): 317–330; Adams, B (2001). ‘The Early Quakers in Britain, 1646–1666’. The Journal of Ecclesiastical History 52(3): 568–69. 66 The Act of Settlement, 1662, is in Curtis, E (ed.) Irish Historical Documents. (Methuen, London, 1943). 158. And, Carsten, F (ed.). The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 306–7. 67 Stern, J (2011). ‘Roger Williams, the Pequot War and the Origins of Toleration in America’. Early American Studies. 9(3): 576–16; Bangs, J (2010). ‘Dutch Contributions to Religious Toleration’. Church History 79(3): 585–613. 68 Article I of the Pennsylvania Charter of Liberties. This is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 40; Schwartz, S (1983). ‘William Penn and Toleration: Foundations of Colonial Pennsylvania’. Pennsylvania History. 50(4): 284–312. 69 See pages 29–30. 70 The 1670 Treaty of Dover is at 11 CTS 295. See also Millward, J (ed.) Seventeenth Century: Portraits and Documents. (Hutchinson, Essex). 120. 71 The ‘Declaration of Indulgence’ as in Millward, ibid, 152. 72 The 1673 Test Act, as in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 436. 73 Glickman, G (2013). ‘Christian Reunion, the Anglo-French Alliance and the English Catholic Imagination, 1660– 72’. The English Historical Review 128(531): 263–91; De Krey, (1995). ‘Rethinking the Restoration: Dissenting Cases for Conscience, 1667–1672’. The Historical Journal 38(1): 53–83; Dudley, A (1912). ‘Nonconformity under the Clarendon Code’. The American Historical Review. 18(1): 65–78. 74 Condren, J (2014). ‘The Dynastic Triangle in International Relations: Modena, England and France, 1678–85’. The International History Review. 1–21; Bustin, D (2003). ‘The Popish Plot and the London Baptists’. Canadian Journal of History. 38(3): 493–504; Beaver, D (1991). ‘The Popish Plot and the Politics of Ritual, 1678–1682’. The Historical Journal. 34(2): 297–327. 75 The 1679 Exclusion Bill is in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 436. 76 See pages 26–27. 77 Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 71; Milne, D (1951). ‘The Results of the Rye House Plot and Their Influence Upon the Revolution of 1688’. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 1: 91– 108. 78 Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 78. 79 The Declaration of Duke Monmouth, as in Pincus, S (2009). 1688: The First Modern Revolution. (Yale University Press, London). 107. See also, pp 109–19. 80 Bowers, T (1991). ‘Sedition, Seduction and Tory Ideology in the 1680s’. Studies in Eighteenth Century Culture. 38: 15–44. 81 See pages 26–28.

82 Pincus, S (2009). 1688: The First Modern Revolution. (Yale University Press, London). 126–30, 150–60; Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 344; Gwynn, R (1977). ‘James II in the Light of His Treatment of Huguenot Refugees’. The English Historical Review. 92(365): 820–33 Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 196– 97. 83 Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 63. 84 The 1687 Declaration of Independence. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 452. 85 Kennedy, A (2016). ‘Rebellion, Government and the Scottish Response to Argyle’s Rising of 1685’. Journal of Scottish Historical Studies. 36(1): 40–59; Weinbrot, H (2016). ‘Pulpit, Polemics and The Declaration of Indulgence’. Journal ofEighteenth Century Studies. 39(3): 315–34; Sowerby, S (2012). ‘Religious Toleration and Historical Amnesia in Later Stuart England’. Past and Present. 215: 85–99; Sowerby, S (2009). ‘Of Different Complexions: Religious Diversity and National Identity in James II’s Toleration Campaign’. The English Historical Review CXXIV (506): 29–52; Gibson, W (2007). ‘Dissenters, Anglicans and the Glorious Revolution’. The Seventeenth Century. 22(1): 168–84. 86 See pages 26–28. 87 The ‘Invitation of the Seven to the Prince of Orange’ is reprinted in Pincus, S (ed.) England’s Glorious Revolution, 1688–1689: A Brief History With Documents. (2006, Palgrave, NYC). 37–38; Also, Van Der Kiste, J (2008). William and Mary. (History Press, Gloucestershire). 93–94; Speck, W (1987). ‘The Orangist Conspiracy Against James II’. The Historical Journal. 30(2): 453–62. 88 Gebler, C. (2005). The Siege of Derry. (Abacus, London). 63. 89 The Declaration is reprinted in Ranum, P (ed.) The Century of Louis XIV. (Harper, NYC). 295, 296. Also, Claydon, T (1996). ‘William III’s Declaration of Reasons and the Glorious Revolution’. The Historical Journal 39(1): 87–108; Speck, W (1989). Reluctant Revolutionaries. Englishmen and the Revolution of 1688 (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 75. 90 See Campbell, E (2000). ‘Oaths and Affirmations of Public Office Under English Law: An Historical Retrospect’. The Journal of Legal History 21(3): 1–32. Also, Williams, E (1960). The Eighteenth-Century Constitution. 1688–1815. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 37–39. 91 The 1689 Toleration Act is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 459. 92 Locke, as reprinted in Two Treatises of Government and a Letter Concerning Toleration. See also Tate, J (2010). ‘Locke, Rationality and Persecution’. Political Studies 58(5): 88–1008; Pevnick, R (2009). ‘The Lockean Case for Religious Tolerance’. Political Studies 57(4): 846–65; Miller, N (2008). ‘The Dawn of the Age of Toleration: Samuel Pufendorf and the Road Not Taken’. Journal of Church and State. 50(2): 255; Kessler, S (1985). ‘John Locke’s Legacy of Religious Freedom’. Polity 17(3): 48–503. 93 Zwicker, L (1991). ‘The Establishment Clause and the Act of Toleration’. Indiana Law Journal 66(3): 773–99; Spurr, J (1989). ‘The Church of England, Comprehension and the Toleration Act of 1689’. The English Historical Review. 104(413): 927–46. 94 Brown, C (2017). ‘Catholic Politics and Creating Trust in Eighteenth Century England’. British Catholic History. 33(4): 622–44. 95 Laborie, L (2017). ‘Radical Tolerance in Early Enlightenment Europe’. History of European Ideas. 43(4): 359–75; Laursen, J (2011). ‘Blind Spots in the Toleration Literature’. Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy. 14(3): 307–22. 96 The Treaty of Limerick, 1691, is reprinted in Curtis, E (ed.) Irish Historical Documents. (Methuen, London, 1943). 171. See also, Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 82; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, Harlow) 17. 97 The Act for Abrogating of the Oath of Supremacy, as reprinted in Curtis, E (ed.) Irish Historical Documents. (Methuen, London, 1943). 180. 98 The Act to Prevent the Growth of Popery, 1704 as reprinted in Curtis, E (ed.) Irish Historical Documents. (Methuen, London, 1943). 188. 99 Ibid, art VI.

100 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 80. 101 The 1701 Act of Settlement. This is reprinted in Adams, G (ed.) Select Documents of English Constitutional History. (Macmillan, London, 1947). 475. Also, Duffy, C (2003). The’ 45. (Cassell, London). 79. 102 Ibid, art 1. 103 Ibid, art 2. 104 Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 37, 105, 111. 105 See the Treaty between England and the United Provinces for Securing the Protestant Succession. 25 CTS 401. 106 Art 2 of the Treaty between Britain and the United Provinces in 1706 for securing the Protestant Succession. 25 CTS 401. 107 Art 1 of the Act of Union with Scotland. This is reprinted in Adams, ibid, 479. 108 Ibid Art 2. 109 The Protestant Religion and Presbyterian Church Act is reprinted in Dickinson, W (ed.) A Sourcebook of Scottish History. (Nelson, Edinburgh). III: 489. 110 The Occasional Conformity Act, 1711. This is reprinted in Millward, J (ed.) Seventeenth Century: Portraits and Documents. (Hutchinson, Essex). 155. 111 Pizzoni, G (2017). ‘British Catholics Commercial Strategies in Times of International Warfare’. The Seventeenth Century. 32(1): 81–102; Thompson, A (2011). George II. (Yale University Press, London). 49–50; Thompson, A (2002). ‘Popery, Politics and Private Judgement in Early Hanoverian Britain’. The Historical Journal. 45(2): 333–56; Gregg, E (2001). Queen Anne. (Yale University Press, London). 120; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 156; Snape, M (1998). ‘Anti-Methodism in Eighteenth Century England’. The Journal of Ecclesiastical History. 49(2): 257–81. 112 The 1719 Declaration Act. This is reprinted in Curtis, E (ed.) Irish Historical Documents. (Methuen, London, 1943). 186. See also, Hatton, R (2001) George I (Yale University Press, London). 117. 113 See Simms, J (2000). Jacobite Ireland. (Four Court Press, Dublin). 261–65; Hill, J (2001). ‘Convergence and Conflict in Eighteenth Century Ireland’. The Historical Journal. 44(4): 1039-1–63; Burns, R (1962). ‘The Irish Popery Laws: A Study of Eighteenth-Century Legislation and Behaviour’. The Review of Politics. 24(4): 485–508. 114 Dees, R (2005). ‘Hume on Toleration’. Hume Studies 31(1): 145–64; Jordan, W (2002). ‘Religion in the Public Square: A Reconsideration of David Hume and Religious Establishment’. The Review of Politics. 64(4): 687–713; Rivers, I (2001). ‘Responses to Hume on Religion by Anglican and Dissenters’. The Journal of Ecclesiastical History. 52(4): 675–95. 115 Selma, S (1949). ‘The Jews in the Economic Policy of Frederick the Great’. Jewish Social Studies. 11(2):129–52; Goldstein, P (2012). An Inconvenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism. (Facing Ourselves, Massachusetts). 163, 169. 116 The ‘Quebec Act’ is reprinted in Commager, H (ed.) Documents of American History. (Prentice Hall, NY, 1973). I: 75 117 Stanbridge, K (2003). ‘Quebec and the Irish Catholic Relief Act of 1778’. Journal of Historical Sociology. 16(3): 375–404; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 50, 141. 118 Brown, C (2017). ‘Catholic Politics and Creating Trust in Eighteenth Century England’. British Catholic History. 33(4): 622–44. 119 The Catholic Relief Act of 1778 is in Curtis, E (ed.) Irish Historical Documents. (Methuen, London, 1943). 194. 120 Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 245. 121 George, as in Black, ibid, 198. See also, Esdaile, C (2019). The Wars of the French Revolution, 1792–1801. (Routledge, Abingdon). 230. 122 The bill of 1793 is reprinted in Curtis, ibid, 198. 123 See Brown, C (2017). ‘Catholic Politics and Creating Trust in Eighteenth Century England’. British Catholic History. 33(4): 622–44; Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 197, 244; Brewer, J (1999). ‘Understanding Anti-Catholicism in Northern Ireland’. Sociology. 33(2): 235–55; Burns, R (1963). ‘The Catholic Relief Act in Ireland, 1778’. Church History. 32(2):181–206. 124 Bonomi, P (1996). ‘Religion and Politics in the American Revolution’. The History Teacher. 29(2): 137–44; Stout, H

(1977). ‘Religion, Communication and the Ideological Origins of the American Revolution’. The William and Mary Quarterly. 34(4): 519–41. 125 Creviston, V (2011). ‘The Place of the Quebec Act in the Coming of the American Revolution’. Historian. 73(3): 463–79. 126 Scherr, A (2017). ‘Quakers and Baptists During the Revolution’. Journal of Church and State. 59(2): 256–79; Bradley, J (1989). ‘The Anglican Pulpit, the Social Order and the American Revolution’. Albion. 21(3): 361–88; Hogue, W (1976). ‘The Religious Conspiracy Theory of the American Revolution’. Church History. 45(3): 277–89; Metzeger, C (1949). ‘Catholic Tories in the American Revolution’. The Catholic Historical Review. 35(3): 276–300; Sweet, W (1947). ‘Anglicans in the American Revolution’. Huntington Library Quarterly. 11(1): 51–70; Falk, R (1939). ‘Thomas Paine and the Attitude of the Quakers to the American Revolution’. The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography. 63(3): 302–10. 127 He suggested religions are only tools to ‘terrify and enslave mankind and monopolise power and profit’. Paine, as in his (1807) The Age of Reason (2014 edn, Michigan Legal Publisher, Michigan). 2. 128 Jefferson, as in Appleby, J (ed.) Jefferson: Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1999). 394. 129 Washington, as noted in Cohen, M (ed.) History in Quotations. (Cassell, London). 185. 130 Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 474. 131 Goldstein, P (2012). An Inconvenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism. (Facing Ourselves, Massachusetts). 163, 169; Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, Abingdon). 150, 159; Hood, J (1971). ‘Protestant-Catholic Relations and the Roots of the First Popular Counterrevolutionary Movement in France’. The Journal of Modern History. 43(2): 245–75; Bien, D (1958). ‘The Background of the Calas Affair’. History 43(149): 192–206. 132 Diderot, as in Mason, J (ed.) Diderot: Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1992). 29–30. See also Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random, London). 352–53; Krieger, L (1970). Kings and Philosophers: 1689–1789. (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London). 78–79; Dorn, W (1963). Competition for Empire: 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 198–99, 203. 133 Montesquieu, as in Cohler, A (ed.) Montesquieu: The Spirit of Laws. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 200). 488. See also, Gilmore, N (2017). ‘Montequieu’s Teaching on the Dangers of Extreme Corrections’. The American Political Science Review. 111(3): 460–70; Bandoch, J (2016). ‘Montesquieu’s Selective Religious Intolerance in Of the Spirit of the Laws’. Political Studies. 64(2): 351–67. 134 Rousseau, as in Cress, D (ed.) Jean-Jacques Rousseau: The Basic Political Writings. (Hackett, NYC). xvii. Griswold, C (2015). ‘Liberty and Compulsory Civil Religion in Rousseau’s Social Contract’. Journal of the History of Philosophy. 53(2): 271–300; Beiner, R (1993). ‘Machiavelli, Hobbes, and Rousseau on Civil Religion’. The Review of Politics. 55(4): 617–38; Fourny, D (1987). ‘Rousseau’s Civil Religion Reconsidered’. The French Review. 60(4): 485–96. 135 Rousseau, as in Cress, D (ed.) Jean-Jacques Rousseau: The Basic Political Writings. (Hackett, NYC). 227. 136 d’Holbach, P Good Sense or Natural Ideas vs Supernatural Ideas (Gale, London, 2010 edn). Section 10. 137 As noted in Curran, M (2013). ‘Beyond the Forbidden Best Sellers of Pre-Revolutionary France’. The Historical Journal. 56(1): 89–112; Hasse, H (2017). ‘The Philosophes’ Criticism of Religion and D’Holbach’s Non-Hedonistic Materialism. Diametros. 54: 56–75. 138 Voltaire, as quoted in Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 365. 139 Williams, D. (ed.) Voltaire: Political Writings. (1994, Cambridge University Press. Cambridge). 147, and 244. 140 Arkush, A (1993). ‘Voltaire on Judaism and Christianity’. Association of Jewish Studies 18: 223–43; Auberry, P (1983). ‘Voltaire and Antisemitism’. Studies on Voltaire and the Eighteenth Century 217: 177–82. 141 Voltaire, as in his Philosophical Dictionary. (1972 edn, London). 387. 142 Voltaire, as in Cranston, M (1986). Philosophers and Pamphleteers: Political Theorists of the Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford) 43. 143 The Declaration of the Rights of Man Citizen, as reprinted in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 101, 104. Also, Israel, J (2013). Democratic Enlightenment. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 906–08; and Burleigh, M (2005). Earthly Powers: The Clash of Religion and Politics in Europe. (Harper, London). 30.

144 The ‘Grant of Religious Liberty for Protestants’ is reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 66. 145 See the ‘Petition by Jews Settled in France’, as reprinted in Mason, ibid, 105; Goldstein, P (2012). An Inconvenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism. (Facing Ourselves, Massachusetts). 172. 146 Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 50–56. 147 See the, ‘Clerical Oath’, as reprinted in Wright, D (ed.) The French Revolution Documents. (University of Queensland Press, Queensland). 75. 148 The ‘Civil Constitution of the Clergy’ is reprinted in Butterfield, H (ed.) Selection Documents of European History. (Methuen, London). III: 70–71; The figures are from Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 151. 149 Burleigh, M (2005). Earthly Powers: The Clash of Religion and Politics in Europe. (Harper, London) 57–60; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 340. 150 See the ‘Address to the King by the Non-Juring Priests of the City of Paris’. This is reprinted in Wright, ibid, at 78. Also, the ‘Deportation of Non-Juring Priests’. This is also in Wright, at 144. Note also the ‘Decree Concerning Fanatical Priests’. This is in Mason, L (ed.) The French Revolution: A Document Collection. (Houghton, NYC, 1999). 252. 151 Burleigh, M (2005). Earthly Powers: The Clash of Religion and Politics in Europe. (Harper, London) 62–66, 91–94. 152 This decree is quoted in Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 303– 04. 153 This quote is in Brinton, C (1934). A Decade of Revolution, 1789–1799. (Harper, NYC). 161. Note also Moffett, C (1962). The Reign of Terror. (Ballantine, NYC). 139–43. 154 See Andress, D (2005). The Terror: Civil War in the French Revolution. (Brown, London). 96–99.

XII The Muslim Territories 1.

T

Introduction

about the decline, between 1650 and 1800, of the major Muslim territories. At the beginning of the period of this book, in 1650, the power of the Muslim world was massive. By the end of the period of this book in 1800, the Ottoman Empire was in full retreat; the Safavid Dynasty had disappeared from history and had become a revolving door of power holders. The power of Muslim India had been lost, and, as the regions scrambled for power, the British started to gain control over all of it. The Ottomans, began the second half of the seventeenth century much as they had in the past. This allowed them to finally take Crete, and make advances, into the hinterlands of their Christian enemies. Where they pushed too far was in trying to take Vienna. This triggered a response in which the main European enemies of the Ottomans (the Russians, the Habsburgs, the Poles and Lithuanians, and the Venetians) all learned how to cooperate and work together in unfamiliar ways. The result, overall, was a steady push-back of Ottoman-occupied areas. By the middle of the seventeenth century, the advance was clear, with huge traditionally Ottoman-allied areas (such as the Crimea), falling squarely into Russian hands. However, at the end of the period, matters were turned upside down, as the Ottomans now discovered they had a new shared enemy in the shape of the revolutionary French Republic. The French seizure of Egypt occurred as new challenges started to arise in other Ottoman territories, as new groups began to develop intolerant theologies that rejected many of the directions of the Ottomans, fellow Sunni or not. The Safavid dynasty which had ruled in Persia from the 1500s disappeared from history. The cause for its demise was its religious intolerance towards groups in Afghanistan which returned to invade the country. In the chaos that followed, the spectacular Nader Shah arose, galvanising a new dynasty, while also trying (but failing) to find a theological middle ground between the Sunni and the Shia which had resulted in centuries of warfare. Although he could not build a bridge of peace with the Sunni Ottomans, he was able to conquer both Afghanistan and then, remarkably, Mughal India. This spectacular act then led to the end of a strong centralised Mughal power and its replacement with largely independent regional bodies (often with different faiths). In this land of counterweights, the Europeans saw opportunity, as what were originally restrictive trading relationships turned into mutually HIS CHAPTER IS

beneficial liberal military alliances. The benefactor of all of this change, was Britain.

2.

The Ottoman Empire

In 1650, the frontier of the Ottoman Empire was only 80 miles from the Habsburg capital of Vienna. In the east, the Ottoman influence stretched to the shores of the Caspian and the Persian Gulf. In North Africa, the Barbary states of Tripoli, Tunis and Algiers were nominally under Ottoman power, with only Morocco on the outer. Despite such a massive geographical reach, internally, the regime was weak. Sultan Mehmet IV of the Ottoman Empire ascended the throne on 8 August 1648, at the age of six after his father, Ibrahim, was overthrown in a coup. To ensure he did not become the focus of a rebellion, Ibrahim was then (with the consent of the scholars, and the mother of Mehmet), strangled outside his son’s window, ten days later on 18 August. Tens of thousands of dissidents who may have also been less than loyal were rounded up and paid the ultimate price for potentially issuing a wrongful challenge to the authority of the young Sultan. Such shows of strength were deemed necessary, so that the deeper challenges of corruption, political and dynastic cliques, civil tensions and lack of economic growth could be confronted by the new sultan and his regents.1 A key part of the re-galvanising mission was a return to a particular (Kadizadeli) approach to Islam, which sought to strip the Sunni faith back to its basics, without any innovations that had not been sanctioned by Muhammad. Previously, the Ottomans, and Istanbul in particular, had a good reputation for tolerance (within the bounds of Islamic rules) of different inter-Muslim interpretations and non-Muslim faiths. The change Sultan Mehmet IV oversaw meant that for all non-Muslims, all new buildings of religious purposes were prohibited and all such people, unless they converted to Islam, were excluded from positions of power and influence within the Ottoman realm. Conversely, they were to be rewarded if they did convert to the proscribed Muslim faith. For competing Muslim interpretations, such as with the Sufis, the reaction was more violent. This group found their practices of playing music, dancing or repeatedly reciting God’s name as a type of prayer prohibited, their shrines attacked, and their people imprisoned, tortured, banished or executed.2 Although these restrictions on religious tolerance were primarily at the core of the Ottoman Empire in Constantinople, Sultan Mehmet IV was pragmatic on questions of religion when strategic interests were involved. Accordingly, he promised tolerance to Protestant rebels in Catholic-held Hungary, and Orthodox Christians in Catholic held PolandLithuania, if they were willing to swap overlords to him. The Sultan would also play politics in the Holy Land, allowing Christian pilgrims to visit and various religious orders to look after the Christian sites in Jerusalem. (a) The Eastern Mediterranean Sultan Mehmet IV came to power in the middle of an ongoing conflict with Venice. This,

driven by the Ottoman goal to capture Crete, had begun in 1645. Although they had subsumed most of the island by 1648, the capital of Heraklion held out. To break this stronghold, a continual supply of men and materials was required. To stop these from getting through a sequence of dramatic naval battles between the Ottomans and the Venetians (and their Papal, Maltese and French allies) repeatedly occurred. The first battle of note, for the period of this book, was in the middle of 1651, when an Ottoman fleet met the Venetians off Santorini. This was followed by a battle off Naxos, when perhaps 50 vessels on each side collided, with the Venetians carrying the day (scattering the Ottoman fleet and taking nearly 1,000 prisoners). The opposing forces clashed again in 1654 in the Dardanelles (this time an Ottoman victory, albeit at the cost of 6,000 men), before being repeated in 1655 in the same location (but, this time, a joint Venetian-Maltese force of 36 vessels, won the day after a six-hour battle against 104 Ottoman vessels). The largest battle in this sequence occurred the following year in 1656, when Venetian led-forces struck in a further attempt to stop Ottoman reinforcements getting to Crete. In this battle, the 67 vessels (sailing ships and galleys) of the Venetians and allies overcame the much larger force of 98 vessels, sinking or capturing 56 of the enemy boats, and killing, perhaps, 10,000 opposition in the process. The victors then proceeded to capture the islands of Tenedos and Lemnos, which commanded the Dardanelle straits. A blockade was then placed on Istanbul and famine occurred within the city. In 1657 the Ottomans returned and retook the islands. It was recorded that, ‘revenge over the infidels’3 was manifest, as the 12 warships the Venetians could not stop the 33 warships of the enemy. The victors then toyed, briefly, with the possibility of peace with Venice so they could concentrate on other matters, but the Ottoman demand of the complete surrender of Crete was not acceptable to the Venetians.4 (b) Central Europe The war for the capture of Crete slowed down considerably after the Ottomans began to get pulled into conflicts in Eastern Europe. This conflict in northern and eastern Europe started when Russia, Sweden and Poland-Lithuania collided. The problem for the Ottomans was with one of their vassals, the (Christian) Prince of Transylvania, George II Rakoczi. Although this man held (with the consent of the Sultan) about five-twelfths of Hungary, he wanted more territory, so he started to engage in conflict in Poland-Lithuania. These actions were without the consent of the Sultan. Rakoczi also prevailed upon the neighbouring Ottoman vassal states of (Christian) Wallachia and Moldovia to join him, promising them all more independence and autonomy if they were successful. The result was that the authorities in Istanbul deposed Rakoczi from his power in Transylvania and directed their more loyal Crimean Tatars to drive the invaders out of Poland. Rakoczi’s army was largely destroyed in 1657 (which allowed Poland to make peace with Transylvania)5 and he was killed in battle in 1660, before the rebellion was fully crushed in 1662 at the battle of Nagyszolos. The Ottomans then made their favourite, Michael Apafi, the Prince of Transylvania.6

The difference from earlier uprisings was that when Rakoczi realised his Ottoman overlords were coming to get him, he decided to offer his loyalty to the Holy Roman Emperor Leopold I. This swapping of suzerainty allowed the Austrians to advance into northern Transylvania. The Austrians did this at the same as the Ottomans sought to reestablish their control over this province in rebellion. Tensions were already high in the region, as both sides accused the other of provocative border incursions, and Leopold I pulled into being a defensive alliance with all the princes of the Holy Roman Empire.7 Although a truce was agreed in the middle of 1662,8 and the option of a return to the status quo was theoretically possible, any hope of peace was scuttled when the Ottomans demanded an increase to the tribute given to Istanbul. Then, to ensure there was no misunderstanding, and war was inevitable, the Habsburg envoys were imprisoned.9 A few months later, in August 1663, some 120,000 Ottoman forces and their supplementary auxiliaries, began marching towards their enemy, crossing the Danube at Esztergom before arriving at, the fortress of Nove Zamky/Neuhausel (in modern-day Slovakia). It fell after a five-week siege. This was a surprise to the Habsburgs, as not only did the defended area fall with relative ease, but also the trajectory of the Ottoman forces was towards Vienna, not weaker points in the region. The realisation that the enemy was strong and the target was the heart of the Habsburg Empire propelled the Holy Roman Emperor, Leopold I, to call for all help possible from the Imperial Diet in 1663. Pope Innocent XI then took this call and crafted a new Holy League, while pleading for Christian troops within Christian Europe to help fight the invading Ottomans. Tens of thousands of volunteers responded. Even France provided 6,000 men as their King Louis XIV was tired of the incessant raids by Barbary Corsairs on French shipping, and he wanted to prod Istanbul into a new relationship with him. The two sides collided at the Battle of Saint Gotthard (on the present-day western-most point of the border between Hungary and Austria) on 1 August 1664. Here, a numerically inferior force (30,000 to 40,000) from the Holy Roman Empire and associated others defeated a much larger Ottoman force (50,000 to 60,000) inflicting casualties of perhaps 20,000 upon the enemy. This battle not only broke the spell of Ottoman invincibility, it also forced them to conclude a deal for peace with the Habsburgs.10 The Peace of Vasvar, between the Habsburgs and the Ottomans was reached ten days after the battle on 10 August 1664.11 With this deal, the two sides agreed to a truce for a 20year period. In addition, Leopold agreed to withdraw from Transylvania, while Michael Apafi (who was still at this point an Ottoman favourite) was recognised with annual obligations of 200,000 florins as tribute to the Sultan. The Ottomans were also allowed to retain Neuhausel.12 Many of those who had supported Leopold and had recently been at the victory at Saint Gotthard were astounded by the deal, as they believed they had the upper hand. However, for Leopold, the goal appears to have been to settle as soon as possible, so he could concentrate on the then-emerging power on his western frontiers of Louis XIV (even though Louis had fought with, not against, him in these recent actions). Nonetheless, a few years later, Leopold did increase the powers and support for the Transylvanian princes (who were still under the

authority of the sultan).13 (c) Crete A pause in hostilities against the Habsburgs allowed Sultan Mehmet IV to refocus his efforts on the final and total conquest of Crete. The diplomatic talks with the Austrians had been a success, and in 1665 good relations were also secured with Genoa with a treaty of commerce.14 With peace and prosperity promised with these two areas (both potential Venetian allies), the Ottomans could then give their undivided attention to Venice. The diplomatic talks with Venice had failed. The Venetian proposal that they should be allowed to keep Heraklion, (but give up the rest of Crete) and make the Ottomans a one-off payment of 100,000 gold pieces, and 10,000 gold pieces annually, was unacceptable to the sultan. The result was that the Ottoman authorities amplified the calls for extra effort and religious duty to pursue ‘victorious jihad’15 and fully capture Heraklion for the honour of his dynasty and religious faith. This capture occurred after a death-toll of at least 30,000 defenders (Venetians, Habsburgs, Italians and even some French) and perhaps 100,000 Ottoman soldiers. Pope Clement IX died of a stroke when news of the loss of Crete (as set down in treaty, with the cession of the area in exchange for the remaining defenders freedom to leave)16 reached Rome on 5 September 1669. As the eastern Mediterranean effectively became a lake for the Ottomans, Heraklion was largely purged of its Christian history. Sultan Mehmet explained this process of, ‘utterly destroying and crushing by irresistible might the polytheist infidels’ was necessary so that ‘the light of the signs of Islam’ could shine.17 (d) Eastern Europe The hinterlands between Russia, Poland-Lithuania and the Ottoman Empire were dangerous places. Between the Cossacks and the Crimean Tatars, theft and violence was everywhere and alliances were often fluid. For example, in 1662, Tatars captured the town of Putyvl (in modern-day northern Ukraine) and carried off all 20,000 inhabitants into slavery for the markets in Istanbul. Then, at the end of that decade, following the failed rebellion by the Cossack Stenka Razin, who wanted full autonomy, in 1670, Petro Doroshenko, leader of the Cossacks on the right bank of the Dnieper River (the area under Polish-Lithuanian control), realised that while the total independence that Razin wanted was impossible, he and his people could get a greater degree of autonomy (as had recently occurred with the Russian peace with the Crimean Cossacks on their side of the dividing line)18 if they swapped overlords. Accordingly, Doroshenko sought Ottoman protection in his resistance to the PolishLithuanian Commonwealth. This appeal for aid to the Sultan was supplemented by an offer of suzerainty over their territory, if the Ottomans would help cleave it from the existing landlords. Sultan Mehmet IV accepted this invitation, and promised him assistance and

directed the Khan of the Crimean to help the Cossack. The Grand Vezir then wrote to the Polish envoy explaining: The Cossacks, a free people, submitted to the Poles. But, being unable to endure any longer the cruelty, injustice, oppression and extractions which weighed upon them, they have … sought the protection of the Khan of the Crimea, and are now with his support, under the Turkish banner … If the inhabitants of a country, to obtain their freedom, beg for the support of a powerful Sultan, is it prudent to pursue them while under such patronage?19

Following through, in 1672, Sultan Mehmet IV, with a fair degree of religious rhetoric, marched a large Ottoman army through Moldavia to the banks of the Dniester, where he was joined by a large force of Crimean Tatars. The timing was smart as Poland-Lithuania was also suffering internal political difficulties, and the truce which had been agreed with Russia in 1667, was far from secure. The result was that, the Ottoman and Tatar troops laid siege to the walled town of Kamenets, which was garrisoned by Polish and Lithuanian troops. This yielded after a nineday bombardment. Liberal terms (the right to freedom of worship, retention of property) for them putting down their weapons were offered and accepted. The result was that the new Ottoman province of Kamenets was carved out from the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth’s province of Podolia. The Ottomans were not to know it at the time, but with this operation, they had attained the largest dimensions of territory held in Europe that they would ever achieve. The victory of Kamanets was then cemented into place with the treaty of peace of 167220 between the Ottomans and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. This contained the cession of Podolia between the Dnieper and the Dniester, tribute payments to the Sultan, Ottoman garrison troops in Podolia, and freedom of emigration and freedom of religion for the Christians within the new Ottoman zone.21 This peace did not last (and may not have been ratified) as the commander of some of the Polish forces, John Sobieski, (King of the Poland-Lithuania Commonwealth from 1674) continued to fight. This was much more viable following their renewal of their truce with Russia (in 1672), allowing the Commonwealth to fully concentrate on the Ottoman incursions. The result was the conflict toggling between Commonwealth victories (at Khotin in 1673) and Ottoman counter-pushes. To make the matter even more complicated, in 1674 Moscow struck at Doroshenko, but their attempt to crush the rebellious Cossack and take his capital of Chyhyrn (on a western tributary of the Dnieper, central Ukraine) failed after Ottoman forces came to his aid. Meanwhile, 60,000 Ottoman soldiers helped by 100,000 Tatars invaded Poland. John Sobieski defeated this force outside Lvov (in western Ukraine) at the end of August 1675. His smaller army of about 6,000 men lost few, while the Crimean Tatar’s suffered heavy losses of 20,000. The following year, another attempted invasion was made when 200,000 men under the banner of the Sultan surged forwards. This time, at Zorawno (western Ukraine today), Sobieski deeply fortified a force of 16,000 who could not be over-run, but rather, inflicted massive damage on the attackers. Meanwhile, Chyhyrn was besieged again by the Russians, and this time Doroshenko, surrendered and swapped sides, now pledging allegiance to the Tsar, not the Sultan.22 In this complicated environment, peace was found. The first peace, in 1676, was between the Ottomans and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. The context of this peace was that

John Sobieski needed to settle so he could concentrate on other, greater, threats. Accordingly, despite the recent Polish-Lithuanian victories, the Truce of Zhuravno saw the Ottomans gain parts of the western Ukraine and retain their grip on Podolia, and the vassalage of some Cossack groups to the Sultan. Nonetheless, within the ceded regions, the non-Muslim locals were to be protected, including with the freedom of their faith. This peace was expanded in 1679, covering, inter alia, free emigration, exemption from tribute, non-molestation of merchants and even freedom of residence for Catholic pilgrims in Jerusalem. Confidence building measures were also agreed on the non-harassment of each other’s territory or fortresses, no aid to the enemies of the other, and a prohibition of military recruitment in occupied areas.23 The second peace between Russia and the Ottomans was concluded in 1681 at Bakhchisaray, the capital of the Tatar Khan in the Crimea. This promised 20 years of peace. Although both sides promised to leave the area, it recognised Ottoman suzerainty of the right bank of the Dnieper river (except for the city of Kiev) with the left bank of the Dnieper river remaining in vassalage to Moscow as had been agreed in 1667.24

3.

The Siege of Vienna

(a) Towards Conflict As the Ottomans had been battling in eastern Europe, they had also been making friends in the western part. There, although the key philosophers such as Pufendorf and Leibniz, came to paint the Ottoman empire, its ideology and governance regime in increasingly despotic colours25 other great (Christian) legal scholars of the age such as Richard Zouche26 and Johann Textor concluded that treaty relationships with Muslims were lawful unless they, ‘materially increase the strength of an infidel’.27 England struck a trade deal with the Ottomans in 167528 and the United Provinces followed in 1680.29 France struck a new relationship with the Ottomans in 1673,30 and expanded this in 1681 to which Sultan Mehmet IV agreed with Louis XIV a treaty of nonaggression and neutrality. In exchange, Louis XIV regained trading rights in Istanbul and (French) religious privileges in Jerusalem. With this signing, and happy with a relationship that would cause the Habsburg Emperor Leopold I great difficulties on his eastern frontier, the French head diplomat in Istanbul explained (behind closed doors), ‘there henceforth cannot be any understanding between me [Louis] and the Emperor that would oblige me to join my military forces with his [Leopold] for any reason’.31 Peace agreements and understandings were made with England, the United Provinces, and France in the west of Europe. Similar arrangements with Russia, Poland-Lithuania and Venice in the other parts of Europe were also concluded. With this context it became possible for Sultan Mehmet IV to return his attention to the grandest prize of all – the Habsburg capital, Vienna. This was the prize that had eluded his predecessor, just over 150 years earlier. The framework which held peace in place between the Ottomans and the Habsburgs,

was the 1664 Peace of Vasvar. However, its 20-year timeframe was coming to an end. Although an interim agreement had been settled in 1681 between Emperor Leopold and Sultan Mehmet (with promises of more punctuality of paying tribute, non-encouragement of rebels of the other, no building forts in disputed areas, or interference in Transylvanian elections) there was no definitive peace.32 With this knowledge in mind, the Sultan then lit the fuse by giving support to Imre Thokoly, a prominent leader of the disaffected Protestants in the Habsburg-controlled part of Hungary. To this man, Sultan Mehmet promised political autonomy and religious freedom, as well as a crown for all of Hungary and Croatia, if he pledged himself to become a tributary vassal of the Ottomans. This bid for the loyalty of Thokoly was more than Holy Roman Emperor Leopold I offered the Hungarian, so Thokoly then proceeded to accept the Sultan’s offer and started battling the Habsburg forces in Hungary. The Sultan then suggested to Leopold I that the price for the Ottomans not to intervene, was the surrender of an important Habsburg fortress, and repayment for all the money he had spent preparing for war with the Habsburgs. When this suggestion was refused, the Sultan told Vienna that he intended to support the newly dubbed, ‘King of Central Hungary’.33 The formal declaration of war (following fighting breaking out from August 1682) from Istanbul, issued on 20 February 1683, read: You have for some time past acted to our prejudice, and violated our friendship, although we have not offended you … I declare unto you, I will make myself your Master … I have resolved … to ruin both you and your people, to take the [Habsburg] Empire according to my pleasure … I will according to my pleasure put your Sacred Priests to the plough and expose the breasts of your matrons … You will therefore do well to forsake your religion, or I will give order to consume you with fire.34

Pursuant to this threat, perhaps 150,000 men assembled on the Ottoman side of the border. They were subjects from Turkey, Tatars from the Crimea/Ukraine and even some 10,000-plus disgruntled Protestants under the leadership of Tokoli, who fought for the Sultan under their own banner which read, ‘For God and country’.35 This massive force swarmed over the frontier, advancing quickly through Habsburg Hungary, before coming to sit in front of, and surround, the walls of Vienna in Austria on 13 July 1683. When the Sultan’s canons were in place, the customary message, demanding surrender and conversion to Islam, or evacuation under safe conduct for the citizens, was issued. There was no reply from the much smaller, besieged force of 11,000 regular soldiers, 5,000 volunteers, and perhaps 80,000 citizens, as all of Europe watched what was seen as its biggest crisis since the fall of Constantinople in 1453.36 Between the middle of July and the 12 September, the Ottomans had penetrated the outer walls and came close to overrunning the city (with 12,000 casualties, both military and civilian) in the attempt. Those within the walls of Vienna had to wait this length of time before the relieving forces of Holy Roman Emperor Leopold (under the direction on the field of Charles V, Duke of Lorraine) would arrive from the west and from the north (under the authority of the Polish King John Sobieski). The Bavarians to the south-west and the Protestant Saxons, to the north-west of Vienna also sent troops. Although the Polish forces arrived first on 11 September, the Imperial Army arrived very soon after. The following day

on 12 September, together, an estimated 27,000 Polish and Lithuanian troops, and 47,000 Imperial soldiers, swept down upon the poorly defended Ottoman siege lines. In the battle that raged for the following 12 hours, the besieging force was decimated, losing between 10,000 and 15,000 men, with a further 5,000 captured.37 (b) The Tides of War The forces that saved Vienna recognised that by acting together they had an unprecedented opportunity. Together, they sought to build on the momentum of their victory, and pushed back against the Ottomans to see how much European territory, which had once been Christian, they could recover. The momentum for this massive push-back had begun just before the siege of Vienna, as the Emperor, building on existing relationships,38 deepened them, to prepare for the counter blow. This was evident with the Treaty of Perpetual and Defensive Alliance between the Holy Roman Empire and Poland, in late March 1683.39 Venice adhered to this agreement in early March 1684.40 A few weeks later the so-called ‘Holy League’ as amplified by Pope Innocent XI, was unveiled at Linz on 20 March.41 To this, the Holy Roman Empire, Poland-Lithuania and Venice all promised to fight only their common enemy, and not each other. This understanding was furthered by the Truce of Ratisbon between France, Austria and the Holy Roman Empire (and their respective auxillaries), as settled on 15 August 1684. With this, the signatories who had been, until very recently, sparring in western Europe, agreed to: [A]bstain from every act of hostility and shall also observe … those measures for the restoration of public tranquillity … [as necessary steps to] … restoring and securing the good faith and universal tranquillity of the Christian world.42

The military successes for the Holy League began soon after it was formed. Gran and Parkany were both quickly captured by the forces pursing the Ottomans. Next, Szigetvar and Pest were taken, and an Ottoman army was destroyed in Croatia by the Austrian forces. Hearing of these victories and initiatives, the inhabitants of Albania and the region of Epirus, and large parts of the Dalmatian coast, also rose in rebellion against their Muslim overlords. Seeing the opportunity that these uprisings presented, in 1685, the Venetians began to attack Greece, taking Koroni, while in the same year, Charles of Lorraine pushed the Ottomans out of present-day Slovakia. The Imperial forces recovered Neuhausel, albeit at huge cost to the defenders (only 200 surviving out of a garrison of 3,000). Buda (modern-day Budapest) was taken (having been in Ottoman possession since 1526, and the capital of Turkish Hungary) after over 60,000 men besieged it, before it surrendered after a 78-day siege in early September 1686, albeit at a great cost of tens of thousands of casualties for the victors, with less than half that loss for the 7,000 defenders. Hatvan, Siklos and Szegedin followed in October.43 Then, to ensure that the inhabitants of these regions felt safe, and inclined to support the actions, Leopold I promised protection for all of those in Transylvania who rose up against their Turkish overlords. He would repeat this promise for each piece of territory recovered.44

The Holy League received a further boost in 1686 when Russia joined with PolandLithuania in their shared offensive against the enemy they held in common.45 The Russians then triggered their war with the Ottomans by demanding that the Crimean Tatars cede the Crimean peninsula to them, resettle their entire population in Anatolia, and make a payment to the Tsar of 2 million gold pieces. When the Tatars refused, and the Russians advanced, they were unable to trap an elusive Tatar army, which ravaged the Ukraine, taking tens of thousands of captives for the slave market, before returning to the Crimea.46 Meanwhile, in central Europe, the conquest of Morea was completed. By the end of 1687 the Gulf of Corinth had been crossed and the fabled Athens was briefly in the hands of the Venetians (although the Parthenon was now a pile of rubble, having been used as an ammunition dump, and then being hit, bequeathing to posterity a ruin). This victory was overshadowed by that achieved at Mohacs on 12 August in southern Hungary, where two armies, roughly of equal size of 60,000 men each clashed violently. Here, the Ottomans suffered a defeat (10,000 casualties, and at least 8,000 dead). The Ottomans also failed to retake Buda, and a further 20,000 losses were recorded. The result was so ominous that even Michael Apafi, the previous Ottoman favourite for Transylvania, swapped sides. By treaty in 1687, he gave up many of the traditional liberties that Hungarian magnates had highly valued, but was guaranteed more religious freedom, and security, if he recognised Habsburg suzerainty.47 In geographical terms, this meant that now almost all of Hungary (and Transylvania) was in the hands of Emperor Leopold I. As Leopold I was going from strength to strength in Vienna, in Istanbul, Sultan Mehmet IV was (in a highly unusual process) replaced by his brother, Suleiman II, at the end of November 1687. This was deemed essential by a group of the highest religious, civil and military authorities, who believed they were facing an unprecedented crisis, in response to which radical measures (such as replacing the Sultan) had to be implemented.48 Despite the change of leader, matters continued to go poorly for the Ottomans. First, the plea by Suleiman II for help from his fellow Muslims in Mughal India was rebuffed (as they were consumed in their own Deccan Wars) while the Shah of Iran, also rebuffed his offer of an alliance. Second, on the battlefield, Titel was captured in late July before Belgrade fell in early September, 1688 after it was besieged by 34,000 Imperial and Bavarian troops for five weeks, and then stormed (when the option of surrender was not taken). At least 5,000 of the 25,000 defenders died, along with 4,000 attackers. Kostajnica, Gradisca, Brod and Zvornik also fell to the Austrians in the same period.49 The advance against the Ottomans only slowed as Emperor Leopold and most parts of the Holy Roman Empire began to be pulled into the Nine Years War in western Europe. Although this meant that Leopold had to withdraw many of his forces from the fight against the Ottomans, the Russians, Venetians, Poles and Lithuanians, along with strong calls of support from the Papacy, continued to push against the Ottomans to which Nis (today, southeast Serbia) and Vidin (today, north-western Bulgaria) fell in the middle of 1689. The Ottomans reeled, but they swung back, augmented with forces from the Crimea, Egypt and even some French artillery (as Louis and the Sultan had now reconciled) pushing back into a small corner of Transylvania and what is modern-day Serbia. Emperor Leopold I responded

to this in April 1690 by issuing a manifesto to Christian peoples in the Balkans, exhorting them to: [T]ake up arms against the most inveterate enemy of the name of the Christian … avenge the injuries, calamities and miseries most unjustly and cruelly inflicted on you. In return, you may feel the very outset of the gentleness and sweetness of Our [Habsburg] Empire and rule.50

Such overtures came to little, as the Ottomans, promising tolerance to the Christian communities under their rule, regained the offensive, retaking Vidin, Nis and then Belgrade in early October 1690. However, in 1691, the new Sultan, Ahmed II (the son of Sultan Ibrahim, who replaced Suleiman II who died a natural death at the end of June, 1691) saw the tide turn back, with another sequence of military reverses for the Ottomans. These began in August 1691, at the Battle of Slankamen (in modern-day Serbia), when 33,000 men from the Holy League, faced 50,000 Ottoman soldiers. The defeat of the Ottoman forces was severe as, at least half were casualties. Further defeats followed in 1692 when the Habsburgs took Varad (modern-day Romania) and then the fortress of Gyula in 1694.51 Early in 1695, Sultan Armed II died of natural causes, and was replaced by Mustafa II. He was immediately tested, as his navy engaged in two ferocious battles around the Oinousses islands (in western Anatolia) as the Venetians attempted, but failed, to hold the area. In the first battle, in February 1695, the 47 warships of the Venetians were outclassed by the 44 of the Ottomans, to which some 2,500 men were lost. In the second battle, at Chios in September of 1695, the 25 warships of the Venetians were outnumbered by the 32 of the opposition. Another naval victory against the Venetians followed at Zevtinburnu. The Ottomans also recaptured Titel, and then recorded a victory on land against the Habsburgs at Lipova/Lugos (as part of their campaign to reclaim Transylvania), in late September 1695.52 Any hopes of a strong reversal of fortune for the Ottomans were dashed when Peter the Great, now in power in Russia, fully recommitted his country (which had drifted out of the war) to conflict against them. He did this because of pressure from Austria as well as PolandLithunia to reengage. He feared that if he did not, and the anti-Ottoman forces were successful, Russia could be denied both glory and the territorial fruits of victory. He was also angry that the Ottoman allies, the Crimean Tatars, continued to stalk his frontier towns, burning areas and taking thousands of people under his protection as slaves.53 For the cost of 30,000 Russian soldiers, in 1696, the Ottoman fortress town of Azov (at the north-east end of the Sea of Azov) became the territory of Peter the Great. The Ottomans dug deep, trying to stem the tide by reverting to a strong conservative religious orthodoxy while also furiously trying to reorganise their armed forces.54 This may have initially helped as in the same year, 1696, at Ulas (near the Bega river) some 50,000 Polish and Lithuanian soldiers clashed against perhaps 60,000 Ottomans (with both sides having casualties of perhaps 4,000 men each). They victory for the Ottomans was repeated at Cenei (roughly, modern-day western Bulgaria) when again, massive armies collided. The Ottoman reboot in 1696 was a short-lived trend. Their victories were offset in January of the following year as the Russians, the Holy Roman Empire and Venice, recommitted themselves to their offensive against the Ottomans.55 The result was that in

September 1697 some 31,000 Habsburg troops caught some 50,000 Ottomans at Zenta (modern-day Serbia) off-guard while crossing a river, at a cost of 29,000 Ottoman casualties. This allowed the Austrian forces to raid up the Bosna river, as far as Sarajevo. In the same month, the Venetians regained the advantage on the ocean, first in September 1697 (when they inflicted at least 1,000 casualties on the opposition), and then at Samothrace at the end of September, the following year. In this last battle, the 20 warships of the Venetians inflicted a greater damage on the larger (32 warships) of the enemy, for only one-third of the cost.56 (c) Peace After over 15 years of fighting, and the deaths of between 120,000 and 384,000 people, it was time for peace.57 Against the odds, the Ottomans, had not been swept from history, nor were they showing signs of a total collapse. Conversely, the countries against them were, despite the victories and broad progress, exhausted and wished to put their energies elsewhere. Accordingly, from 1698, a truce was agreed,58 from which a peace emerged at Karlowitz, on 26 January 1699, via four separate treaties. With the Holy Roman Empire, in exchange for a 25-year truce, the Ottomans ceded Transylvania, but the retained Temesvar, Belgrade, as well as suzerainty over Wallachia. Both sides had the joint use of three listed rivers. In addition, a boundary was set between Ottoman Bosnia and Imperial Croatia. Certain areas were not to be fortified. Refugees were to be repatriated and both sides promised to not, in the future, give sanctuary to the unruly subjects of the other. The point about the future was important, for in the present, the Ottomans refused to give up the Hungarian rebel Imre Thokoly, now a refugee in Istanbul, to the Austrians although they did move him a great distance from the frontiers.59 With the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, an indefinite peace, was agreed. With this, Augustus II the Strong (and the Habsburgs) agreed to evacuate Moldavia, which was recognised as subject to Ottoman suzerainty, while the Ottomans restored Kamenets and the entire region of Poldovia and the western Ukraine to Poland-Lithuania. The Ottomans also agreed to stop Tatar incursions, and neither side would host enemies of the other.60 With Venice, for an indefinite peace, the Ottomans agreed to cede the Morea, the island of Santa Maura, and most of her conquests in Dalmatia and Albania. In exchange, the Venetians returned the conquered territories north of the Isthmus of Corinth.61 Peace with Russia was concluded a little later, on 13 July 1700, with the Treaty of Istanbul.62 With this, for a 30-year truce, the towns taken by the Russians on the Dnieper were to be completely demilitarised and uninhabited – but not returned to the Ottomans. This was meant to be unpopulated area which would stretch across the Ukraine from east to west, separating the lands of the Crimean Tatars from Russia. Moreover, the traditional tribute paid by the Tsar to the Khan of the Tatars was now to stop. In terms of new territory, Azov and the associated areas (within a ten day journey from the walls of Istanbul), which had recently been conquered by Tsar Peter, were to remain Russian. Both sides were now to exchange ambassadors, and the Ottomans promised to assist the Orthodox Christians in their access to

places of significance in Jerusalem, which were controlled by other Christian sects.63

4.

North Africa

One point that should be noted in the above time sequence is regarding Muslim North Africa, more commonly known as the Barbary Coast (the modern lands of Morocco, Libya, Algeria and Tunisia). In theory, all these areas were nominally under Ottoman power, with the exception of Morocco. Mostly, these areas did not get involved in wars with eastern and central Europe, but they did clash with several countries from western Europe, some of which, had toe holds in North Africa. In the last half of the seventeenth century, these toeholds were increasingly abandoned due to the extreme difficulties in their long term defence and/or the massive economic costs of their upkeep. For example, the English, who had acquired Tangier (by marriage treaty with Portugal in 1661), tried to make peace with the Moroccan authorities,64 but abandoned the area in 1684. The Spanish also progressively abandoned their sites of La Mamora (1681), Larache (1689) and Arzila (1691) in that same part of the world. The Moroccan authorities, not upset with the loss of either the English or the Spanish, then went on to re-establish a series of trading relationships with the United Provinces.65 Once these toe-holds were gone, when disagreements with the North African entities became violent (such as when the European ships, cargoes and passengers were seized by corsairs allied to one of the Barbary states) naval bombardment and/or siege would be the return payment. This became the pattern, repeating every decade somewhere on the North African coast before the turn of the eighteenth century. After each bout of violence, treaties would resettle the relationship. These would provide for a mutual exchange of prisoners and resumption of limited trade, and neutrality of the vessels of that flag when sailing in the area.66 Following such sequences, England ended up with peace and trade treaties with Algiers (1662, 1668, 1672, 1682 and 1683, 1686),67 Tunis (1662 and 1673), and Tripoli (1662, 1676, 1682, 1686, 1694).68 France, followed a similar pattern, with Tunis (in 1665, 1666, 1672, 1685 and 1691),69 Algiers (in 1666, 1679, 1684, 1689 and 1694)70 and Tripoli (in 1681 and 1692).71 The United Provinces also followed this pattern, with treaties of protection, peace and trade with Tunis (1662)72 and Algiers (1662 and 1679).73

5.

New Ottoman Conflict with Russia

In the first years of the eighteenth century, the peace appeared to be holding, with further cooperative gatherings and agreements occurring in 1701 (over boundary issues between Austria and the Ottomans).74 However, this angle of approach ended when the man who had made peace with the Ottoman enemies in 1699 and 1700 was deposed on 22 August 1703, in what was, in essence, a military coup. The army insisted, and leading clerics agreed, that his brother Ahmed III, take his place. After a short military confrontation between the opposing

forces, Mustafa agreed to step down and live his last months out peacefully. This allowed his brother Ahmed to take power.75 The hope, which the new Sultan Ahmed fulfilled in the early years, was that the Ottomans would not get pulled into any of the massive wars in northern or western Europe. Accordingly, Ahmed continued the peaceful resolution of disputed areas with Poland (in late 1703, over boundary questions and obligations owed under their recent peace),76 and also Russia (in 1705 over boundary questions).77 This cooperative approach was directly against the exhortations of both Sweden and France, which wanted the Ottomans to join the fight against Russia. In 1709, following the Battle of Poltava, the defeated King of Sweden, Charles XII, fled from the victor Peter the Great, in the only direction he could, which was towards the Ottomans. Once within their borders he found sanctuary after Sultan Ahmed received him with hospitality, despite there being no formal diplomatic relations between the two countries. Sultan Ahmed’s decision to give sanctuary to Charles XII provoked a war with Peter the Great. Although both the Ottomans and Russians had reiterated their commitment to the peace they had made in 1710,78 the Russians kept demanding the extradition of Charles, and then raided into (Ottoman) Moldavia. In response, the Sultan relented and declared war on Peter on 20 November 1710. Early in 1711, the vassals of the Ottomans, the Tatars, struck and ravaged the area between the middle Dnieper and the upper Don. Peter, feeling confident from his recent victories over Charles XII of Sweden, accepted the challenge, but with a different gloss than before. Peter cast this new conflict in religious terms of seeking to protect the Orthodox Christian communities who were within the Ottoman territories. Partly as a justification, and partly as a response to some of the missions that made their way to Peter and pleaded for rescue, the Tsar decided to present himself as the liberator of the Balkan Christians. He then called on all of the Christians within the Ottoman territories to rise up and ensure that, ‘the descendants of the heathen Mohammad were driven out into their old homeland, the sands and steppes of Arabia’.79 He then had the Christian Cross inscribed on the standards of his soldiers with the words ‘under this sign we conquer’80 (as a direct imitation of the Roman Emperor Constantine).81 In strategic terms, the key to Peter’s campaign lay in the two nominally Christian principalities, Walachia and Moldavia (a large part of modern Romania), which were within the Ottoman realm. The stronger and richer of the two, Walachia, pledged support (in exchange for substantial independence and hereditary rights for the ruler), promising 30,000 troops in support of Peter. Moldavia accepted a similar deal,82 allowing Russian troops to cross their territory and occupy their forts. The Moldavian Prince, Dimitri Kantemir, then joined the march, declaring war in the following terms against the Ottomans: [I]n the hope that God will give us victory over this perjurious and hereditary enemy not only for ourselves but of all Christendom … and that he would vouchsafe to liberate with the help of our Christian arms many other Christian nations now groaning under [the Sultans] barbarous yolk. For this goal, we, as a pious Christian monarch, are ready to toil for the glory of the Lord’s name.83

Despite such bluster, although the Moldavians remained loyal to Peter in his march towards the Ottomans, most of those from Walachia (which was geographically more isolated, and without Russian troops yet in it), feared the Ottomans more than the Russians, and swapped sides back to the Sultan. In addition, the rank-and-file Christians that Peter hoped would rise up, largely failed to stir, waiting to see the outcome of the first major clash. That clash occurred in Moldavia, on a bend in the Pruth River, over a four-day period, beginning 18 July 1711. In the battle that followed, the man who had so brilliantly outwitted Charles XII, was himself outwitted by the forces of Sultan Ahmed III. The result was that Peter’s forces of 38,000 men (including 5,000 from Moldavia) were outmanoeuvred, surrounded and penned into a corner of the river from which there was no retreat, by 200,000 men (including 80,000 cavalry) in opposition. It was an impossible situation, in which the Tsar and his army were completely trapped and dying.84 Although Peter was prepared to accept anything but slavery to survive, his opponent, appears not to have not known how extremely vulnerable the Tsar was, and imposed terms upon him which were considerably less severe than could have been expected. The terms which Peter accepted in the Treaty of Pruth, promised a ‘permanent peace’85 between Russia and the Ottoman Empire. This was to be built upon the return of Azov and recently built Russian towns in the area to the Ottomans, mutual non-interference in Polish affairs (and a withdrawal of Russian forces from the area, thus no interference with the Cossacks), and a safe passage for the Swedish king back to his homeland.86 While peace and friendship was pledged in 1712,87 the peace made at Pruth was then confirmed in the Treaty of Adrianople88 in 1713, with the notable change of the territory of Azov under Ottoman control being enlarged, thus preventing Russian access to the Black Sea. Once the ink on this was dry, the Swedish King Charles XII, who had become somewhat of an ungracious house guest, exited the Ottoman Empire. The peace that this brought for the next period was extremely valuable to the Sultan, as he feared that the treaties of Utrecht in 1713, and then Rastatt and Baden 1714, would allow the Europeans, who had now stopped fighting each other, to again turn on the Ottomans.

6.

New Ottoman Conflict with the Venetians and the Habsburgs

Although the calls of Peter the Great may not have caused the Christian uprising he had hoped for in Walachia and Moldavia, his words appear to have echoed throughout the Ottoman lands and seeded, to a greater degree, within Christian communities in Ottomancontrolled Montenegro, where a revolt began to bubble. Sultan Ahmed III believed that this revolt was being stirred by the Venetians. It was also alleged that the Bank of Venice had wrongfully kept money that belonged to an executed prince of Wallachia. Under these two pretexts, the Sultan declared war on Venice in December 1714. By the middle of September 1715, much of the Venetian territory in the Peloponnese peninsula in southern Greece (Morea), as well as the islands of Aegina and Tine, Corinth and Argos were again in the hands of the Ottomans. Only Corfu steadfastly resisted the assaults.89

As the Ottomans continued to advance against the Venetians, Austria decided to intervene on their behalf, with a formal alliance, for defensive and offensive purposes, being struck on 13 April 1716.90 Although this treaty hoped that the Polish and Russian forces could be brought back into the alliance as it had been in 1684, the reality was that both of these countries, worn down by their own conflicts in northern Europe, stuck to their peace agreements with the Ottomans. The Austrians then tried their traditional approach of stirring up rebellion with the Christian communities in the Ottoman-occupied part of Hungary, while at the same time, marching a massive army of 160,000 men from Belgrade towards the enemy. The battle that followed at Peterwardein on 5 August, involved over 200,000 men. Here, some 62,000 Habsburg troops clashed with 139,000 Ottomans, and inflicted perhaps 20,000 casualties (for a loss of about 4,500 of their own). Smashing this army allowed the Austrian forces to advance and besiege Temesvar. This last bulwark of Islam in Hungary capitulated in midOctober, after a relief army of 20,000 men was routed, with as many as 4,000 killed. This allowed the Habsburg forces to advance even further, going into Walachia, with detachments even reaching Bucharest. However, the real target was Belgrade. The climatic act inside the fortress was when an Austrian shell detonated the main Turkish magazine, killing 3,000 in that one incident alone. Outside the fortress, the huge Ottoman relief army of 150,000 men was then stopped by 40,000 Austrians on 16 August 1717, with at least 20,000 casualties. With this defeat, a few days later, on 21 August, Belgrade surrendered to the Austrians.91 In the same period, the Venetians (now with help from Portugal, Malta and some Papal fiefs) struck back in the Mediterranean. At the first naval Battle of Matapan in southern Greece, the numerically superior Venetian-led forces found success. During a nine-hour battle, they destroyed 14 of the enemy vessels (inflicting over 2,000 casualties), stopped the Ottoman advance in the region, and comprehensively broke the siege of Corfu. At the second naval Battle of Matapan in June the following year, 26 Venetian vessels, again, got the better of the 36 Ottoman vessels. The Venetians were so happy with this result that they commissioned Antonio Vivaldi to compose a special piece to memorialise the result.92 By this stage, although the Venetians had lost, perhaps, 20,000 men and the Austrians 40,000, the Ottomans had lost 80,000, a considerable degree of territory, and were unable to gain the upper hand. This forced Sultan Ahmed III to agree two new peace treaties at Passarowitz (a small town in Serbia) on 21 July 1718. These largely reflected the reality of the military holdings on the ground at that time. This meant the cession of Temesvar (thus completing the full conquest of Hungary), northern Serbia (including Belgrade) as well as parts of Bosnia and Walachia and created a new frontier along the Sava and Drina rivers. While these acquisitions were good for Austria, Venice agreed to the surrender of Morea (along with Tine and Aegina), but they kept everything else they still held, including Corfu, the Ionian islands and a few ports in Dalmatia and Albania.93 A third treaty, that with Russia at the end of 1720, (even though Russia had not been part of the recent conflict), reconfirmed the treaties of peace between these two powers.94 This peace not only brought an end to the killing, it also introduced a new era into the Ottoman Empire, commonly known as the ‘Tulip Period’ which lasted until the end of

Ahmed’s tenure, at the end of September 1730. It was called this because of the craze for tulips within Ottoman Court society. This reflected a new type of consumer demand which, in itself, reflected some of the trends in western Europe. As a further sign of a change in focus, diplomatic and trade relations with European countries began to expand. In 1720, the Sultan even granted France permission to repair the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Sultan Ahmed also introduced the first Ottoman printing press in 1727 to produce works for the populace. Although strictly censored, it did begin reproducing works (especially French ones) on military matters, geography and history.95

7.

The End of the Safavid Dynasty

In the middle of the seventeenth century, the Safavid Empire, which had emerged at the beginning of the 1500s, was still strong and covered territory from traditional Persia (or modern-day, amongst others, Iran, Azerbaijan, Armenia, Iraq, as well as parts of Turkey, Afghanistan, and Georgia). Despite the greatness of this Empire, within the space of just over 70 years, the three rulers, Abbas II (until 1666), his son Safi II (until 1694) and finally Shah Husayn, would oversee the decline of the Safavid dynasty until it disappeared from history in 1722. At the outset of the 1650s, the Safavid Persians were re-taking from the Mughals, and holding, the areas of Khurasan and Kandahar (large parts of what is modern-day Afghanistan). They even cooperated with the Khan of Azerbaijan, and together fought the Russians, after Cossacks in the hinterlands around Astrakhan (today’s southern Russia) acted provocatively in the region (attacking unarmed caravans), pushing them out of disputed regions.96 Such border incursions and instability at the edges were the bread-and-butter of the Safavid dynasties. They were also times of court intrigue, plague, inflation and economic decline, all of which had to be addressed. On the last point, expanding trade (including with Britain, the Netherlands and Denmark) was encouraged as a way to gain more revenue. However, the largest preoccupation of the period appears to have been the propagation of their faith and support for Twelver Shiism, (a particular interpretation of the Shia faith, with Safavid rulers placing themselves as legitimate rulers until the absence of the twelfth imam is resolved), while at the same time empowering a particular, and dogmatic, Shia hierocracy. This hierocracy legitimised both the Safavid ruler, their faith and their control over public theological matters.97 Such state-sponsored support for a particular faith was not unusual, but the intolerance (often from specific factions, more than the leaders) towards other religious faiths became increasingly noticeable from the 1660s onwards. From this point, those not of the correct Shia blend, found themselves excluded from political and social positions of power, unless they converted. Similarly, loyal Christian-Orthodox vassals from Georgia, found themselves (or their families) detained and all subsidies stopped unless they converted to Islam. Within a few decades, intolerance increased again, after it was legislated that only their version of Shia could be practiced. Jews and Armenians were persecuted, and a decree was passed for the

forcible conversion of Zoroastrians. Hindu merchants from India suffered, as did the Sufis, whose mysticism had done much to build the foundations for the Twelver Shia. Efforts were also made to convert Sunni Muslims, or exile or kill their leaders who operated within the Safavid domains.98 In terms of sequence, it appears to have been Shah Husayn’s insistence on the propagation of the Shia faith in what is today Afghanistan that precipitated this fall, with a local revolt by the Sunni Mirwais Hotak in 1709, against his Persian overlords who controlled the Kandahar region. After taking control of the area, Mirwais declared the independence of what is now southern Afghanistan. This effort was made secure as he defeated Persian forces attempting to retake the land in 1709, 1710 and finally in 1711 when the largest of all the Persian forces, some 25,000 men, attempted to re-claim it. Of this last force, only 1,000 ever made it home to Persia. Encouraged by this action, Sunni-based Afghan communities in the north of the country, joined with Uzbeks in 1717 and now, under the leadership of Mahmud Hotak, also threw off their Shia-based Safavid overlords. He captured Herat (killing 10,000 opposition soldiers in the process, for the loss of 3,000 of their own) and then started a raid into the core territory of Safavid Persia, to which Kerman was captured in 1720 and the population put to the sword. The opposing forces battled back and forth, and although they always had superior numbers, the Safavid Persians could not defeat the hardier Afghanis, who only a few years earlier would have been dismissed as a smallish band of ragged tribesmen. Fear gripped the country to such an extent that even the European merchants (French, English and Dutch) who had trading rights in the country, fled.99 As this was taking place, Shah Husayn requested help from Peter the Great. Husayn hoped that the recent (and first) bilateral treaty he had signed with Peter in 1717, would provide enough of a foundation for Russia to help save Persia from the Afghan wave. Peter, who was already angry about the deaths in 1721 of some Russian merchants in the PersianAfghan war, and was being encouraged by the (Christian) Georgians to intervene, agreed to help if he was given, in exchange, large amounts of territory in the North and South Caucasus. The agreement (between Russia and the Safavids)100 followed the Safavid defeat (despite their superior numbers) in early March 1722, at the Battle of Gulnabad. In the summer of that same year, Peter then directed an army of 61,000 men and a navy of 274 ships into the western coastal region of the Caspian Sea (but failed to link up with the Georgians, who were then defeated), while the Afghan forces advanced to surround the Safavid capital of Isfahan, starving them into submission. After 400,000 of the original 500,000 of this city had either died or fled, Isfahan surrendered in early October 1722. Shah Husayn abdicated a few weeks later on 20 October. In so doing, Husayn explained to Mahmud Hotak: My son, since the Supreme Being does not wish me to reign, and the moment has come which he has decreed for you to ascend the throne, I cede my empire to you with all my heart, and I wish you may rule it in all prosperity.101

As Shah Husayn abdicated and two centuries of Safavid rule over Persia evaporated, the country fragmented. The Russians began fighting both Afghan and/or Persian forces, as

puppet rulers were placed in power under the control of their new overlords. Then, to make matters even more complicated, the Ottomans advanced into Persia in early 1724. They quickly took the Erivan province, overran Georgia, Armenia, Shirvan and much of Azerbaijan, while also destroying a Persian force of 10,000 men outside the walls of Tabriz, but failed to take the city in 1724. The greatest risk at this point (from the view of the invaders) was not that the Persians would collapse, but that they (the invaders) could collide with each other. Accordingly, the Ottomans made an agreement with Russia in June 1724.102 This sought to avoid clashes between the two sides while jointly partitioning Persia’s north-west provinces between themselves. Thus, while Peter got the Caspian coast, Russia agreed to the Ottomans getting sovereignty over all of Georgia, Armenia and the rest of northwest Iran. They also agreed to restore the Safavids (not the Afghanistan invaders) in whatever areas remained. Despite this new deal, the Russian momentum collapsed soon after the death of Peter the Great in early 1725. Nonetheless, the Ottomans persisted and in the same year (1725) they conquered Tabriz at a cost of about 30,000 Persian lives.103 The relationship between the Ottomans and the Afghans was complicated. The difficulty was that the Afghans were, like the Ottomans, of the same Sunni faith. Moreover, to the minds of many in the Ottoman Empire, the actions of the Afghan warriors, and their humble ways were more in line with what militant Islam was meant to look like, were more commendable than those with power and wealth in Istanbul. However, when Ashraf Hotak (the successor to Mahmud Hotak) wrote to the Ottoman Sultan in the summer of 1725 demanding the return of the western and north-western areas of Persia that the Turks had occupied, the Ottomans refused the demand. The religious authorities in Istanbul then argued that although the Afghans were fellow Sunni, they had seized power unjustly in Persia. The scholars added that there could be no peace between the two rival Muslim powers that pretended to the same authority, unless their lands were divided by a significant natural obstacle (like an ocean). It was also noted that it was beyond question that the Ottoman Sultan enjoyed legitimate authority as the shadow of God on Earth. Therefore, Ashraf was a rebel, and the Sultan was obliged to war against him until he submitted.104 Despite their justification, the Ottomans could not conquer their next target (Isfahan) in 1726, which was defended tenaciously by a mixed force of Afghans and Persians, to which 60,000 of the Ottoman invaders paid the price. With this defeat, Sultan Ahmad III agreed, in the summer of 1727, to a treaty with Ashraf Hotak.105 This recognised the Ottomans in possession of what Persian territory they held at that moment, and Ashraf, as the legitimate Shah of Persia with the remainder.

8.

The Rise of Nader Shah

Nader Shah was born of non-noble birth, within a nomadic group that occupied the north-east of modern-day Iran. He was one of the regional leaders who continued to fight the invaders. He became visible in 1726 at the national level, as he joined in the effort of Tahmasp Qoli

Khan (the son of Shah Husayn) to eject all foreign forces from their lands. The first to leave were the Russians, who without the drive of Peter the Great, and tired of the incessant death rate of their soldiers from disease, decided to quit their adventure. In so doing, they gave the nod to Tahmasp and the restoration of the Safavid monarchy in Persia, as this would bring a stability which was more in line with Russian interests (than any other option). Tahmasp and Nader then began the slow process of expelling the Afghans from Persia. This began as a campaign to control the countryside before escalating to major battles in 1729. In May, Nader recovered Persian prestige when a force of 12,000 routed 30,000 near Herat (inflicting 15,000 casualties and taking 5,000 prisoner). In early October, at Damghan, 16,000 Persians defeated an enemy maybe double that size, killing at least 10,000 of the opposition. A further victory was recorded at Mourcha Kikot on 16 November, allowing the reoccupation of Isfahan. This victory was followed up in early 1730, when 25,000 Persians defeated an equally sized Afghan force. This momentum was sufficient to force the Afghan forces to fragment, and then be pushed out of Persia. The Ottomans were more difficult. Although the Persians made strong gains around Harmadan, retaking Tabriz, and then began pushing into Azerbaijan. These actions, coupled with their demands that the Ottomans return all of the Persian prisoners and Persian lands, in their possession, triggered a further Ottoman declaration of war.106 (a) Two Coups, Conflict and a Soft Peace The news of the fall of Tabriz in 1730, coupled with the resurgent Persian forces, overlapped with renewed discontent at the heart of the Ottoman Empire in Instanbul. The extent of discontent was such that some of the religious authorities in Istanbul refused to support the Sultan in this renewed conflict in Persia. Soon after, Sultan Ahmed III and his grand vizier fell victim to a mob rising, which appears to have started over new tax demands. There was also strong discontent over the westernisation that was occurring with the Tulip Period, and its straying from religious fundamentals. In this turmoil, Sultan Mahmud I (a son of the earlier Sultan, Mustafa II) was placed in power. To ensure that this transition was as comfortable as possible, over 1,000 of the rebels who had supported the deposing of Ahmed III were executed, for fear that their demands and influence would be too great upon the new ruler.107 Initially, Mahmud I’s first war against the Persians went well. His forces scored a large victory at Hamadan on 15 September 1731. The success of this battle was so great that Tahmasp opted to make peace with Ottomans, as he watched them quickly reoccupy Tabriz and all of the other recently re-acquired territories. The treaty, agreed early in 1732, had the Ottomans offer to evacuate Hamadan and Tabriz in exchange for confirmation of their possession of Georgia, Armenia and other territories north of the Araxes river. Although this deal may have been the best that Tahmasp could have obtained at that time, Nader was angry and used the proposed treaty to depose him. The justification was that the lands offered were contrary to the wishes of God, and the treaty failed to make provision for

the return of Persian prisoners. He then explained that it was a ‘shameful peace’ and those who supported it should be expelled from power, adding, ‘to slaughter them will be meritorious, to permit their existence, impious’.108 Nader then followed through on his threat, removing Tahmasp from power for being unfit for duty. His infant son (Abbas III) was then placed in power on 7 September 1732, with Nader acting as the regent. This charade came to an end in 1736 when Nader, with the support (at least in public) of a large gathering of nobles, military and clergy, had himself proclaimed Shah of Persia.109 As Nader was making his way to absolute authority in Persia, he was also battling the Ottomans. This began anew in 1732 with his new plan to strike south and take Baghdad, with a view to trading that for the territories that the Ottomans occupied in Persia. To ensure the success of this goal, in 1732 he agreed a treaty of peace and commerce with Russia. With the promise of ‘perpetual and inviolable amity and good neighbourliness’ the Russians promised to return all the Persian lands they had previously annexed, in exchange for trading rights and investigations into atrocities committed against Russian citizens.110 With peace with Russia in his pocket, in 1733 Nader advanced with 100,000 soldiers into Ottoman territory. He then defeated a large Ottoman force near Baghdad and besieged the city. Although he was then beaten by a relief force at Karkuk (losing about 30,000 men), he reassembled and bounced back, scoring a victory at Leilan, killing about 20,000 of the opposition force of 100,000, and making an equal number prisoner, thus allowing the siege of Baghdad to begin again. After the failed attempt at peace in 1734, the two sides clashed again at the battle of Yeghevard/Baghavard (in modern-day Armenia) on 19 June 1735, when a Persian force of about 15,000 men defeated an enemy of 80,000, inflicting casualties of perhaps 20,000. Nader then followed up his victory by besieging the major cities in the surrounding areas. As these were proving difficult to take, the Russians sent military assistance, with Ganja surrendering on 9 July and Tiflis on 12 August. This, coupled with the Russian compliance with their promises made in 1732, persuaded Russia and Persia to sign a new treaty at Ganja, for a defensive alliance against the Ottoman Empire. This commitment was supplemented by setting the Persian/Russian frontier at the river Sulaq, with all remaining Russian troops leaving Persian territory within two months.111 With the weight of this new Persian-Russian alliance against him, while realising that war with Austria-Russia was also imminent, Sultan Mahmud I decided to come to terms with Nader, to which the Treaty of Constantinople was signed on 24 September 1736. This treaty had the Ottomans recognise Nader as the ruler of Persia; the cession of the Caucasus from the Ottomans to Persia; and access and safety for the Persian pilgrimages to Mecca. Ambassadors were exchanged and prisoners returned. However, background theological suggestions about a possible reconciliation between the Shia and Sunni faiths, that Nader had posed, went unanswered. This meant that Nader refused to ratify the agreement, which made it an informal truce, rather than a permanent peace.112 The particular idea that Nader was nurturing was that although he was of a Shia upbringing and this faith was central to the understanding of Persia at this point of history, he was of the view that the way it was being practiced caused an unnecessary amount of conflict with fellow Sunni Muslims. Accordingly, from the perspective of both his own philosophy,

and the fact that many of the peoples he conquered and or incorporated into his armed forces were Sunni (especially from the Afghanistan regions) it made sense to reconcile the theological differences and remove the animosities between them.113 With his goal of a more tolerant Persia, he banned certain Shia practices that were particularly offensive to some Sunni (such as cursing the first three caliphs) and opted for the school of thought of Twelver Shi’ism, which he had recrafted, and called Ja’fari mazhab (named after the sixth Imam). The catch was that for this to work, this new school of thought would be added to the existing four which the Sunni accepted, so that the adherents to this proposed fifth school, could also then visit the holy places (Mecca) which were in Ottoman territories. To do this, he required a fifth pillar to be erected in Mecca to commemorate the Ja’fari mazhab. This approach, also, in theory, diluted some of the power of the mullah’s in Persia, making the Shah even more autonomous. Then, to ensure there was no misunderstanding, he stopped the funding of the leading schools of the Shia faith in Persia, and had the chief mullah strangled, showing everyone that he was the primary source of power in Persia, not the other way around. Although many Sunni were interested in what Nader was doing and proposing, to most orthodox Sunni it was still an anathema as their regime was based on defending the principle of the norms of Orthodox Sunnism, according to which any kind of innovation in religious doctrine, for whatever reason, was subversive.114

9.

The Austro-Russian and Ottoman War of 1735 to 1739

Peace with Persia was essential for the Ottomans as they were about to go head-first into another major engagement against a united Austria and Russia. This was not inevitable, for as recently as 1727, the Russians and Ottomans had settled questions about territorial limits, peacefully.115 Despite this relationship, peace did not last. France, which had gone to war with Russian proxies over the Polish Succession,116 pushed Sultan Mahmud into attacking Russia from the east. Sultan Mahmud was not averse to this idea of attacking Russia, but he wanted it to be done via a publicly visible alliance, as opposed to the soft Franco-Ottoman relationships that had existed behind closed doors in the past. This price was too much for French King, Louis XV. When Tsarina Anna learnt that the Ottomans were, at that point, intending to stay neutral over Poland, she advanced her troops even further into that country. This move also allowed the Russians to move from the Baltic to the Black Sea coast. Then, when Tatar forces of 100,000 in strength, and in the service of Sultan Mahmud I invaded Daghestan (first in 1733, and then again 1735 and 1736). As this was an area claimed by Russia, Tsarina Anna declared war. This was the beginning of a conflict that would kill perhaps 100,000 of her own soldiers (with disease and starvation killing more than gunpowder), 20,000 Austrians and an unknown number of the opposition.117 The Russian advance began with the successful capture of Azov, in their second attempt in 1736. Over the next four years, with intermittent battles and often in terrible conditions, they made advances through the Crimea and even managed to take Ochakiv (in the southern

Ukraine, on the coast of the Black Sea). This greatly pleased the Tsarina, as it was movement towards her goal of Russian vessels gaining access onto the Black Sea, through the Bosporus, and on to the Mediterranean. After declaring their shared intentions118 in late March 1737, the Habsburg Emperor Charles VI also struck, capturing Nis from the Ottomans in the Morava valley in July 1737, before losing it again in October of the same year. The following year, the Sultan’s army crossed the Danube at Orsova in May and tried to invade the southern part of Hungary. The armies then swirled around each other, before the next major clash occurred at Groska, southwest of Belgrade, on July 1739. In this battle, the Imperial army, perhaps outnumbered 2:1, was mauled, suffering just under 5,000 casualties before retreating over the Danube, allowing Belgrade to be besieged. Meanwhile, the Russians had forced their way into Moldavia, and at Khotin on 17 August, 68,000 Russians got the better of 90,000 Ottoman opposition, allowing them to go and capture the Moldavian capital of Jassy.119 Believing that they were under much greater risk than they actually were, Emperor Charles IV agreed to a new peace treaty with the Ottomans. The Treaty of Belgrade was signed on 18 September 1739.120 With this, the Ottomans received the Austrian Balkan conquests of 1718 (including Belgrade) but not the Hungarian Banat. Thus, although Hungary retained its territorial integrity, the Austrians had to give up what parts they held of Serbia, Walachia and Bosnia, together with Belgrade, Sabac and the island fortress of New Orsova. The Danube-Sava river line became the Habsburg-Ottoman frontier and remained that way until the end of the First World War.121 The Treaty of Nis between the Russians and the Ottomans was concluded a few weeks after the Austrians made peace. With this deal, Tsarina Anna gave up Russian claims to the Crimea and Moldavia, to which non-interference was promised. The one success they had, was that they were permitted to build a non-militarised port at Azov, thus giving Russia its first clear access to the Black Sea. However, all trade had to be on Ottoman vessels.122 The last success that the Ottomans received out of this conflict was that Sweden, which had concluded a commercial relationship with Istanbul in 1737,123 went one step further in 1740 and formed a defensive alliance.124 They also achieved a peace deal with southern Italy125 and enhanced their diplomatic and commercial relations with France.126

10.

Aurangzeb and the Mughal Empire

As peace was settling between the Ottomans and Russia-Austria, Nader Shah was setting out on one of the most amazing military adventures of the time, with his conquest of the Mughal Empire. The background to this achievement was that the Mughal realm was brittle and was already splintering when Nader Shah struck. The weakening of the Mughal Empire followed a period of expansion. This period, started with Shah Jahan, the fifth Mughal emperor to rule large parts of India. Although he continued to battle many aspiring regional nawabs (semi-independent rulers, but subject to the overall Mughal emperor) in and around India, his reign is best known for his architectural

legacy, with the construction of the Taj Mahal. Jahan’s is also known for having made his realm a place of tolerance for other religious (especially Hindu) faiths. This approach was turned upside down by his son, Aurangzeb who achieved power, as in similar Muslim dynasties, by battling his siblings. Although such bloody pathways to power were not unusual, what was unusual in this case was that the opposing sibling, Dara, was in a contest that was not only about leadership of the Mughal Empire, but also a clash between world views. Dara wanted to continue and pursue a tolerant Mughal regime that integrated and did not discriminate against non-Muslim faiths, such as the Hindus. Aurangzeb, as a man of extreme piety, found such views repugnant, and he proclaimed that his war aim against his brother was, ‘to uproot the bramble of idolatry and infidelity from the realm of Islam and to overwhelm and crush the idolatrous chief [Dara] with his followers and strongholds’.127 Aurangzeb was ultimately successful. Dara was defeated in 1659, taken in chains to Delhi, and executed as an apostate from Islam.128 From the time of his victory over his brother, until the time of his death in 1707, Aurangzeb pursued two goals: territorial expansion and religious purity. With the first goal, Aurangzeb expanded the area under his control by about 25%, extending Mughal rule over most of India except the far south, creating the largest Indian estate in over 1,000 years, which stretched from the Hindu Kush to the Coromandel Coast, and was divided into 21 provinces.129 Of the second goal, a religiously pure empire, although Aurangzeb could be pragmatic on the battlefield to achieve his goals (making deals with non-Muslims) within the areas under his control, he increasingly either tried to enforce existing religious rules which were not followed, or broke away from contemporary practices which he found to be wrong. This meant, inter alia, the abandonment of the traditional Persian calendars and associated festivities (including, allegedly, music) as well as suppression of alcohol, prostitution and especially blasphemy. For those who wanted influence, he expected them to convert to (Sunni) Islam and created a clear system of rewards (in terms of positions) for those who were, or became followers, of his faith. He also destroyed all new (but not existing) temples of other faiths that had been built or repaired, post-Mughal power. Finally, in 1679, he reintroduced the jizya, with the classically discriminatory tax being placed on all non-Sunni Muslims.130 Aurangzeb’s religious policy provoked violent reactions. Although the lines on the maps of the areas under his control continued to expand, within each expansion, the Mughal Emperor found that as soon as he subdued one area, uprisings would appear in another. Even his own son, Akbar, would fight his father (before being defeated and fleeing to Safavid Persia). Sometimes the justifications were about the self-interest, status, succession, and pragmatism of the leaders. At other times they were around regional autonomy, especially if they were more cosmopolitan communities, such as the Rajputs or the Jats. Increasingly, the conflicts were about non-Sunni Muslim communities, especially the Hindus (and the Maratha wars, emerging from the leadership of Chatrapati Shivaji Majarai) and the Sikhs (especially under the leadership of Govind Singh), demanding either autonomy or equal treatment, and religious tolerance, within the Mughal realm. The human price of these rebellions was,

perhaps, 4.6 million people.131 As the Mughals and their enemies engaged in extremely large conflicts, the European enclaves kept a low profile. While those on the west coast (Bombay/Mumbai) continued, those on the east coast (with the British, Dutch and French East India Companies all in close proximity to each other) slowly grew in size. They existed, broadly, under the authority of local rulers who owed allegiance to the Mughals, with whom they negotiated concessions over matters pertaining to tax, status and ability to fortify their areas. The Maratha wars almost ran them over in the 1660s, when some Hindu leaders tried to acquire them; and again in the 1690s they were at risk when Aurangzeb threatened to crush them, as they were linked to European pirates who harassed his boats, and/or Muslim pilgrims. However, in the Aurangzeb instance, the English (perhaps foolishly) were not scared, and the Mughal Emperor was too preoccupied with larger enemies to fully turn his attention to the Europeans. At the same point, the Europeans, with their own Nine Year War, were more preoccupied with each other, with the French bombarding the Anglo-Dutch forces at Madras in 1690, and the Dutch, responding a few years later, taking the French settlement of Pondicherry on the south eastern coast. It was the broader context, that made the Europeans realise that it was wiser to fight one enemy at a time. Accordingly, they all attempted to work more cooperatively with their Indian landlords (including the English with Aurangzeb) reverting to a relationship of tribute and trade. With this return to a type of normality, in 1696, Fort William received a name change, to Calcutta. For the Christians outside their specific enclaves and in closer confines to the Emperor, the stipulation was that they were not allowed to reside in the core of the cities under his direct control, unless they had value as medical professionals.132 The decline of the Mughal Empire began soon after the death of Aurangzeb in 1707. It started with a violent war of succession before the seventh Mughal Emperor, Bahadur Shah I, was safely in power. Further instability accelerated as Bandahar’s own tenure was short (until 1712), as was the case for those who quickly followed him, with his son Jahandar Shah, ruling for a year, and then Farrukhsiyar, the grandson of Bahadur Shar I, ruling between 1713 and 1719. Although these successive Mughal powers attempted to re-knit the Empire, including abolishing the jiziya tax (in 1713), re-integrating non-Muslims into positions of power, and the movement towards greater social tolerance, the damage had been done. The result was that each decade saw those on the outer circles, such as the Sikhs and some polyglot communities, like the Rajputs and the Jats (who sought their independence more on regional identities, than religious faith) fighting for greater autonomy. Of particular note, the Hindu-based Marathas warred openly against the Mughals (getting as far as the suburbs of Delhi in 1738). The cumulative result was that Muhammad Shah, who ruled the Mughal Empire from 1719 until 1748, was much weaker than his title appeared.133

11.

(a) The Mughal Empire

Nader Shah at Full Strength

Whether Nader Shah of Persia intended to topple Muhammad Shah of India from the outset is a matter of debate. Nader’s first targets in this part of the world were the groups within Afghanistan who had been at the forefront of the earlier toppling of the Safavid Empire. To this enemy he advanced with an estimated 80,000 soldiers and recorded a sequence of quick and easy victories, with Kerman being recaptured, surrendering to Nader at the end of December 1737. Kandahar was then taken on 24 March 1738 after a nine-month siege. Ghazni and Kabul in the Mughal-dominated part of Afghanistan fell in September and November, with 20,000 surrendering at the latter. Nader then went through the Khyber Pass, winning another victory, before going on to seize Peshawar and Lahore by January 1739. At each instance, Nader, offered the most lenient terms of submission, allowing the opposition to either fight to the death, or surrender and join his Persian campaign. This method was successful, and the army with which he was approaching India grew in size.134 Nader Shah then decided to march against Mughal India. The primary justification for this invasion was that he believed the Mughals were providing aid to the Afghans who fought the Persians, and then refuge for the Afghans who fled from them. Additional justifications were, amongst others, that the Mughal Emperor still owed the Persian crown for a throne that Timur had sent to Delhi; unpaid debts for the use of Persian troops provided decades earlier; and the failure to provide military assistance to the Persians when they needed it most, with the Afghan invasions that undermined the Safavid regime.135 The forces of the Mughul Emperor, Muhammad Shah, confronted Nader Shah, the ruler of Persia, at Karnal, north of Delhi, on 24 February 1739. The size of the forces that clashed suggest a Mughal army of 80,000 was defeated by the Persian army of 50,000. The death toll among the Mughuls was as high as 17,000. Persian losses were perhaps, 2,500 killed and 5,000 wounded. Exactly why Muhammad Shah lost this battle is a subject of endless debate. The theories run from the Emperor not being an inspirational leader, to a lack of support from the Mughal allies, most of whom had lost faith in the rule of the Mughal regime, or saw strategic benefits in avoiding the fight. For this last consideration it is noteworthy that although all the major parties within India had said they would help Muhammad Shah fight the invader from Persia, most of the forces promised failed to show up in time for the decisive battle.136 As if the military defeat was not enough, Muhammad Shah had to deal with the additional indignity that his forces were surrounded, and he could not escape. Accordingly, two days later on 26 February, Muhammad Shah surrendered his Empire to Nader. In so doing, he recorded ‘I salute your throne and Empire, and, although I am master of it, I give it to you, if only you will satisfy my claims’.137 Despite this reinstatement of Muhammad Shah before his departure from Delhi, the possibility that Nader could return to India at a later stage and establish permanent rule there could not be discounted. His annexation of the former Mughul territories west of the Indus, along with plans for a shared currency, indicated that a return to India was possible. As it was, although Nader did not annex India, when he entered Delhi (at the invitation of Muhammad Shah), an extensive riot developed. He responded with direct force to regain control of the city. The result was that perhaps 20,000 to 30,000 Delhi citizens were killed in

a five-hour massacre as order was restored. The economic extractions that Nader then took from the defeated Shah Mohammad were so great (and included the famed Peacock throne, the famous diamonds of the Daria-i-Noor which remain in Iran to this day, and the Kor-iNoor, which later ended up in the collection of the British queen, Victoria) that Persia received a three-year tax holiday.138 (b) Further Conflict with the Ottomans Nader Shah did not stop after his defeat of Muhammad Shah. The momentum he had generated propelled him forward in September 1740 as he struck northward to defeat 30,000 Uzbeks at the battles of Charjui and Khiva. He conquered Bokhara and Khiva and annexed all of Turkestan south of the Aral Sea. However, he could not defeat the insurgency led by the Lesgians in the Caucasus province of Daghestan nor in Oman. He was also continually troubled by uprisings of either Sunni populations now under his control or Safavid pretenders who began to challenge the legitimacy of his rule. His fear became such that he even had his own son blinded, out of concern that he, too, could be attempting a coup against him. Throughout this period, Nader hoped that he could finally, and comprehensively, reach peace with the Ottoman Empire. The key to this was the issue which had been brushed over in 1736, to which he had sent further envoys to Istanbul to discuss, namely, the Ja’fari mazhab. In early 1742, Nader was informed that the Ottomans were still not willing to accept this theological change. Undeterred, Nader called together the leading clerics (the Council of Najaf) to examine the proposal (in the hope of finding a neutral circuit breaker) and issued a further decree on religious observance and tolerance within Persia. This was more strongly Sunni in tone than before, heaping praise on the first four caliphs, including the three normally cursed by the Shia. It called upon all his subjects to abandon the erroneous contrary doctrines, and give all four caliphs due reverence in their prayers. The Council of Najaf duly ruled, but it was ambiguous, and there was a distrust that many of the Shia scholars were not sincere in their swing towards the Sunni interpretations. As such, as soon as the scholars returned home, everything reverted to the previous antagonistic position. Accordingly, in late 1742, the Ottomans, again rejected the proposal of Nader to add a fifth school of thought to the Muslim lexicon. This time, Nader was so angry he threatened he would go to Istanbul in person to resolve the issue.139 Istanbul declared war on Persia in early 1743, just as Nader was starting to assemble his forces. They did this in the name of the disgruntled Sunni Muslims ruled by Nader. Nader was the first to move his force of hundreds of thousands of men. On 5 August, he arrived at Kirkuk, which fell soon after, as did Irbil, opening the route to Mosul. At this point, Nader received a defiant message from the Sultan, announcing a religious fatwa permitting his Muslim subjects to kill Persians and make slaves of them, pronouncing that Nader’s new sect in Persia was contrary to true belief. Mosul and Basra were then besieged, when the Ottomans indicated they wanted peace talks. The sticking point, to get Nader to withdraw from Ottoman Iraq, was the Sultan recognising the Ja’fari mazhab. Again, the Sultan refused to consider this and instead started to support another Safavid pretender. The result was two

large clashes in August 1745. At the first, on 9 August at Erivan, 80,000 Persians triumphed over 130,000 Ottomans, of which perhaps, 20,000 of the latter are said to have perished. The second, a week later, saw Nader repeat the trick at the Battle of Kars, killing 10,000, wounding 18,000 and taking 5,000 prisoner. After these twin triumphs, Nader conquered Armenia.140 Against the background of such defeats, Sultan Mahmud I agreed to make a definitive peace treaty with Nader Shah. This was concluded at Kurdan on 4 September 1746. This reestablished the boundaries of an expanded Persian Empire along the lines of 1640. Although Nader received increased amounts of territory, he did not get the theological goals he sought. Nader’s desired Ja’fari mazhab did not get the acceptance from the Ottoman Sunni authorities he desired. Nonetheless, the two sides agreed to exchange ambassadors and allow pilgrims from Persia to visit the Muslim Holy places within the Ottoman realm, while the Persian people would treat ‘the religion of the Sunnis’ and the ‘Orthodox Caliphs’ ‘with respect and veneration’.141 (c) The End of Nader, the Zand and the Rise of the Qajar Having saved Persia, bringing Afghanistan back under his auspice, defeating the ruler of the Mughal Empire, and winning an honourable peace with the Ottomans, Nader Shah found out that his biggest threat came from his own bodyguards, who fearing they were about to be punished, assassinated him on 20 June 1747. Following the inevitable power struggle that followed, Karim Khan Zand, the founder of the Zand dynasty, rose to the top and was proclaimed ruler of Persia in 1751. This dynasty ruled all of Persia, encompassing most of modern-day Iran and parts of Iraq. Most of the fighting in the first decades after the death of Nader was within the existing borders but spilled over to include Afghans, Kurds and a number of Iranian tribes, including the Qajar. Eventually, the Zand were successful, from which economic re-growth (such as renewing diplomatic relations with the British East India Company in 1763)142 and stability became the focus, and balance began to return to the region. Some places like Georgia in the 1750s recorded their first decade in centuries in which there was no signficant fighting in Georgian territory. This return to stability under the Zand reign was supplemented by a revision to the traditional Safavid position on the importance, and dominance of Twelver Shi’ism and the control of dissent or opposing religious views.143 Most of the fighting undertaken by Karim Zand did not spill over the borders. It only became regional in 1775 when Zand forces clashed with the Ottoman-controlled province of Basra. The cause of the conflict (aside from the fact that Basra was an excellent trading town) was over restrictions and exploitation of Iranian pilgrims going to Mecca. Once Basra was taken, Karim Zand entered negotiations to form an alliance with the Russians, to jointly battle the Ottomans. However, this came to nothing as Karim Zand died in early March 1779. Any hope of a coalition was further dented by the incessant infighting amongst the claimants to the Zand dynasty (going through nine different Shahs in the space of 15 years),

and those who were opposed to it domestically, especially the Qajar. The leader of the Qajar, Agha Mohammad, emerged victorious in the early 1790s before he was formally crowned Shah in 1796. He then devastated the Caucasus and annexed part of Kurasan, but failed to take either Herat or Baghdad, before he died in 1797, leaving the Qajar dynasty in a strong position, from which it would rule Persia until 1925.144

12.

The Rise of the British in India

The victory of the Persian Nader Shah over the Mughal Muhammad Shah reshaped India, and the reality of the Mughal Empire, in a drastic fashion, as most of the regions outside his immediate grip began to scramble for autonomy and power. Almost immediately after the conflict, the Deccan and Bengal effectively became independent. The Marathas conquered most of Western India, and the south was dominated by several regional rulers. As these new relationships were emerging, Sunni forces from Afghanistan tried to repeat the trick of Nader Shah on Delhi. However, Muhammad Shah and 60,000 of his soldiers fought off the Afghan attack at the battle of Manpur in 1748.145 As this was occurring, the Europeans, especially the French and the British, were becoming more visible (as were their trading companies, albeit with strong linkages to their national militaries). They both started to settle, having made specific deals with local rulers, who received financial and military benefits. For example, the 1742 Grant between France and the Mahrattas obliged the French not only to pay money for the use of the port and a collection of villages, they were also obliged to help, ‘if any trouble happens to my government, you are to yield your assistance in every respect’.146 With such promises, grants, and tribute being sprinkled around India, the Europeans began to mushroom in trading settlements in the Carnatic region (basically, the southern third of India which held Madras, Cuddalore and Pondicherry), around Bengal (which held Calcutta) and on the other western coast, as part of the Deccan (which held Bombay).147 These local matters suddenly became much more complicated as Europe began to sink into the war of Austrian Succession. The Europeans found themselves unable to obey their landlords, who tried to control what they could, and could not, do. For example, the French captured the British enclave of Madras on 6 September 1746, and held it despite the anger of the Indian overlords, who had forbidden the attack. However, the French could not advance further, failing at their repeated attempts to take Cuddalore. Any further advances were halted, not by the Indian overlords, but the peace made at Aix-La-Chapelle in 1748, which also brought an end to the European tensions in India (and the return of Madras to the British).148 Despite peace being agreed in Europe, it was very difficult to implement in India as regional rulers continued their traditional patterns of dynastic squabbles and power plays. The difference was now, they often expected their European tenants to help them. This new pattern appeared the same year that peace was made in Europe (1748), when the Mughal Sultan Muhammad Shah died and his son, the 13th Mughal Emperor, Ahmad Shah Bahadur,

came to power. His greatest challenge was that what he inherited was rapidly breaking apart. Parallel to this development, succession disputes (of what should have been his vassals) broke out, to be known as the Carnatic War, over both Hyderabad and Arcot, areas which had become largely autonomous. The French and the British joined these fights (providing weapons, advice and sometimes soldiers) but to different favourites. The result was that there were two alliances, each composed of one Hyberabad prince, one Arcot prince, and each linked to a different European power. These two alliances warred against each other before the French succeeded in Hyderabad, and the British succeeded in Arcot.149 Once in power, the new regional Indian authorities gave rewards to their supporters to battle each other, even though the Europeans were at peace in Europe. This meant, from 1751, the French were given the authority to blockade the British at their fort at Trichinopoly, while the British were allowed to respond in kind. In the battles that followed, hundreds of Europeans complemented with a few thousand sepoys each, battled back and forth. The British defeated the French and their allies at Covrepauk in early 1752, before breaking the siege around Trichinopoly, and going on to capture the Mysore. Matters then started to escalate in 1753, as reinforcements began to arrive from Europe, and the Indian princes started to offer even larger numbers of supporting troops. However, even with these greater numbers, Trichinopoly could not be taken from the British. From this stalemate, both the French and the British agreed a provisional peace in India at Pondicherry in 1754 (ten years after the idea was first proposed), just as the Seven Years War was about to explode. The goal was neutrality and non-conflict in the European settlements in India, if in any future conflicts broke out in Europe. This was an excellent document, with much foresight, which sought to promote peace between the colonial powers and reduce their reasons for clashing. Accordingly, its first article stipulated: The two Companies, English and French, shall … never interfere in any difference that may arise between the princes of the country … All places, except those stipulated … to remain in the possession of the French and the English, shall be delivered up to the [Indian community].150

Despite these high hopes, as this deal which was drafted in India was taken back to Europe for Versailles and London to ratify, war broke out between the two and it was never concluded. Back in India, although the British and French were trying to keep a lid on their tensions (while quickly concluding new defensive alliances151 with the local rulers), a regional nawab, Siraj-ud-daula objected to the intrusion of the British East India Company in his affairs and their building additional fortification without his permission. After the company failed to pay heed to the nawab’s concerns, Fort William, the area designed to protect the company’s activities in Calcutta, was attacked, besieged, and finally over-run on 20 June 1756 by tens of thousands of Bengali forces. In the aftermath, many prisoners (with estimates ranging from dozens to hundreds) crowded (either negligently or recklessly) into a small room known as the ‘Black Hole of Calcutta’. In this room, over a three-day period, the majority died of either suffocation or from lack of water. While there was considerable uncertainty over what had occurred, the incident received a great deal of attention in Britain, and there were calls for revenge. These calls became increasingly loud by the time that news of the outbreak of the Seven Years War had reached India, and it became known that that the

French had allied with the local nawab of Bengal who was responsible for the atrocity.152 When the French allied with the nawab of Bengal, the targets were clear for the British. As discussed elsewhere, they responded with a sequence of actions (such as further treaties153 with local nawabs to ensure the exclusion, and if necessary, use of force against the French), and victories that allowed them to capture Calcutta. A sequence of battles followed before the dramatic Battle of Plassey on 23 June 1757, at which the British and their sepoys destroyed the Bengal and French forces, after pre-arranged bribes meant that most of the opposition disappeared before the fight. This victory allowed the British to capture (and destroy) the French commercial centre of Chandernagar, in Bengal. These achievements allowed British commercial dominance of the region. News of the British victories was welcomed in the Court of the Great Mughal in Delhi, almost as much as the news that the nawab who had caused all the difficulties had been executed by his own troops.154 The Great Mughal saw the British dominance as a chance to regain some stability and benefits in the region, that had until recently, been declining. Bilateral treaties concluded after the battle granted the East India Company new rights, including that of currency creation, in this area.155 The British victory was then added to in 1759 with alliances156 with local rulers, including with the ruler of Hyderabad, to keep the French out of the Deccan. The following year, in 1760, the British scored a further military victory at at Wandiwash/Vandavasi on 22 January, from which they over-ran much of the French territory in the region, before penning the French forces into Pondicherry (it eventually fell at the beginning of 1761). The conclusion of this was that many of the local nawabs began to recognise it was the British, not the French, who were the ones to do business with.157 As the British were slowly becoming the dominant European power in India, the Mughal Empire continued to weaken. Between 1748 and 1760, they went through three rulers, before Shah Alam II was placed on the Mughal throne. During these dozen years, Delhi had been overrun again (this time by the Jats), while now, the Marathas were the dominant force behind the Mughal Emperor, to which Delhi had become a toy to be fought over. The next to take control were the Afghans, who took Delhi and decisively beat the Marathas at the battle of Panipat in north India in January 1761, where as many as 20,000 Maratha warriors were killed. Although this checked Maratha expansion, the Afghan forces could not exploit their victory, as they had to retreat to deal with other internal disturbances in the core of their realm. At the same time, the Sikhs continued to grow in strength and the local Muslim powers continued to quarrel, rather than unite.158 It was in this vortex that the British busied themselves, making fresh treaties to establish new factories with extended trading privileges in 1763 in the Arcot, the Mysore, and expanding the relationships with Bengal and Oude.159 As this process was occurring, a new nawab emerged. In seeking to establish dominance in the Bengal region, he decided to challenge the British. The confrontation that followed saw strong British victories at, amongst others, Sooty on 2 August 1763 when 740 British soldiers and 4,000 associated sepoys, defeated a force of 30,000 Bengalis with 200 French in support. After the British advanced further and took Patna, the nawab of Bengal allied with the nawab of Oude and the

Mughal Emperor, Shah Alam II. Despite being massively outnumbered (the British forces were just over 6,000, including 5,000 sepoys, fighting a combined enemy force of perhaps 40,000 in size) the British achieved victory when they collided at Buxar on 23 October 1764, with both sides losing, perhaps 1,000 men each. The scale of British success in the battle at Buxar was reflected in the two peace agreements that followed in 1765. The first160 created a defensive alliance between the British and the new nawab of Bengal, where they were pledged to defend the territory of the other. This was done at the same time as the French were making comparable agreements elsewhere.161 The second162 was a sum agreed by the Mughal Emperor towards the continued upkeep of the British forces in the Bengal region. Wrapped in these commitments was an indemnity (to be paid to the British, for the last war), and the right of the British to begin collecting imperial revenues for the various authorities (including the Mughal Emperor, Shah Alam II). This authority gave the British direct civil authority in India’s richest province which included about 20 million people.163 In southern India, the First Anglo-Mysore war broke out in 1767. This occurred soon after the original deal made in 1763 with the East India Company, was renewed in 1766 with the new nawab of Mysore, the Muslim Hyder Ali (who replaced the Hindu Khande Rao). The new deal was disavowed when it became apparent that the British were linking with their earlier allies in Hyderabad and the Marathas.164 Hyder Ali then fought the British for 18 months (with battles in which the British and their sepoys fought an enemy ten times their size), but neither side could gain the upper hand. Peace between the opponents was made in 1769, via the arrangements of 1766 reverted to and then expanded in 1770.165 Thereafter, in all of the regions where the East India Company had power, it began to exclude trade deals between the local Indian authorities and other Europeans. In so doing it insisted upon enforced monopoly rights for itself, with multiple aspects of production (from cotton to opium) and consumption (including of rice) within the local economy, falling under the purview of the East India Company. It was this Company which was, in conjunction with natural events producing some terrible harvests, in part responsible for one of, if not the, worst famine in human history. This occured between 1769 and 1773 when, perhaps, some 10 million died. Simply, the Company’s profit obligations which were found in tax, food monopolies and crop displacements, trumped the value of human life.166 The English next found themselves drawn into the Maratha War. The core of this was a dynastic dispute in which the British opted to help (via treaty, in 1775, in expectation of reward in territory)167 the side which ultimately lost the inter-family bloodshed. The Marathas then linked with the Mughal Emperor (to whom the British had stopped giving tribute in 1775, believing he no longer had any power). Together, regional forces in India then began to link up against the British. In the subsequent conflict the British suffered their first major defeat to regional powers in India in early 1779, at Talegon/Wadgaon, where their force of about 4,000 including 600 Europeans, was forced to surrender. They were only allowed to return after agreeing to surrender all territories acquired by the them/the East India Company in that region, since 1773.168 Although this dealt with one area in conflict, the wider war continued to which the British

proceeded to record a string of victories. Nonetheless, the Marathas were vast, to which the English decided to end the conflict, returning to peace in 1782, by accepted the dynasty now ruling them. In exchange, there was a mutual restitution of each other’s territories and a return of the monopoly rights for the British East India Company in the Maratha areas.169 The other reason the British were keen to make peace was that while they were fighting the Marathas, the Second Mysore war began. In this conflict, the English declared war on Hyder Ali, as he would not allow the British to attack the French (with whom the British were currently at war over the American War of Independence) that were residing in Mysore territories. Hyder Ali responded with an alliance of the Marathas and Hyderabad. This allowed the collection of vast forces, which swept through the Carnatic. Initially, Hyder Ali found success, as his force of 10,000 largely destroyed a British-Indian force of between 3,000 to 7,000 men at Pollilur on 10 September.170 The pendulum swung back at Porto Novo on 1 June 1781, when the Sultan of Mysore’s 40,000 soldiers were badly defeated by a force a quarter of their size. Further victories were recorded at Pollilur (when 12,000 defeated over 80,000) and then at Sholingarh. Once the British reached peace with the French (over the American War of Independence) the new ruler of Mysore, Tipu, the son of Hyder Ali, decided to settle. The result was that the two sides came to peace on 11 March 1784, in which both restored the conquered territory of the other and returned any prisoners in their possession.171 Although the British were happy with the outcome of the conflict, they were unhappy with the processes which had allowed the war to start and then develop. Accordingly, building on their 1772 Act which gave the government greater control over the East India Company, in 1784 the British Parliament passed further law which now placed the direction of India Affairs in London in the hands of a type of Privy Council. Learning from the recent, and painful, experiences of the American War of Independence, the British goal was to make efforts in India more controlled and to focus more on trade than dominion. Thus, the 1784 East India Company Act explained, ‘to pursue schemes of conquest and extensions of dominion in India’ was ‘repugnant to the wish, the honour, and policy of this nation’.172 As the British tried to steer a clearer course, a powerful Sikh notable (Ghulam Qadir) took power from within Delhi. In the coup that followed, the Mughal Emperor was blinded (and exiled). This resulted in the Marathas entering Delhi (the British declined to help) to place the blind Shah Alam II back in power. Politically, the Marathas, from 1778, permanently occupied Delhi and ruled north India. During the following decade as the Marathas rose in power, and the power of the Mughal Emperor shrank, the third Mysore war broke out. This started in 1789 when Tipu attacked Travancore, which was under the protection of the British. The British responded with another alliance against Tipu.173 This time, Tipu fought for nearly two years, slowly being pushed back to the heart of his realm at Seringapatnam. To survive, he concluded a treaty in March 1792, giving up nearly half of the Mysore territory to the coalition against him (with territory going to the Marathas, as well as land being ceded to the British, south of Madras and on the west coast). A large war indemnity, and two of his sons as hostages was also given over.174

Such stability from this peace was useful to the British, who could now build further, making their first treaty of commerce, with Nepal in the same period.175 They also continued to expand their defensive alliances, the efficiencies of their administration, and the scope of their markets.176 However, peace was not settled in India. Tipu made his final attempt to fight the British by securing an alliance with the French in 1798, with whom his allies were deeply engaged in the wars of their French Revolution. With the fourth Anglo-Mysore war, Tipu was killed, trying to save his capital, on 4 May 1799 from a combined force of British and Indian allies of perhaps 50,000 men. His capital was then sacked and fell with great slaughter, with as many as 6,000 (out of a total of 30,000) of the defenders being killed and great damage was caused. The exception was Tipu’s throne, which was saved, and presented to the English King George III by the East India Company. The treaty that followed had the British, in conjunction with their allies in India, dividing up much of the realm of Tipu. This was deemed: [R]easonable and just … [as] a due indemnification for the expenses occurred in their own defence and effectual security for their respective possessions against the future designs of their enemies.177

Finally, the much-reduced Mysore state, reinstated the old Hindu dynasty Hyder Ali had originally usurped.178

13.

Three Decades of Russian-Ottoman Conflict

(a) Round 1 Sultan Mustafa III came to power after his cousin, Osman III, died at the end of October 1757. To ensure a smooth running of his tenure, he had his brother, who may have possibly competed for power, poisoned in advance. With his pathway now clear, Mustafa would rule until the end of 1773. His goal was to stabilise the Empire. With the Persian realm on one side in a state of internal turmoil (but peace with the Ottomans holding) and the Europeans on the other side, tearing themselves apart with the Seven Years War, neutrality seemed like (and was) a wise option, no matter how many suitors tried to entice the Ottomans into these conflicts. The only small twist on this was establishing friendship and commercial relations with Denmark, and then diplomatic relationships, with Prussia.179 By the mid-1760s, the possibilities for non-involvement in European conflicts began to shrink, as the new Russian monarch, Catherine II, started to project power in a way that made war with them more likely than less. Complementing Catherine II, the team in charge of the Holy Roman Empire, Maria Theresa and her son Joseph II, were also not scared of a fight with Istanbul. The countdown began when Stanislaus Poniatowski, the favourite of Catherine, was made the monarch of Poland-Lithuania in 1764. Although Sultan Mustafa III protested this outcome, he did nothing about it. However, when the Polish uprising began, some of the

Polish rebels in October 1768 sought sanctuary in the small town of Balta in Podolia, in the territories of the Tatar khan, an Ottoman vassal. These rebels were pursued, on the other side of the border, by Russian soldiers. With this incursion, although the Russians tried to deny responsibility, Sultan Mustafa III demanded not only that all Russian and associated troops be removed from Turkish territory, but also, from all of Poland-Lithuania. When the Russian ambassador refused to even communicate this demand to Saint Petersburg, the Ottomans had him locked up. This was protocol for a declaration of war.180 The conflict that followed was a disaster for the Ottomans. They had hoped, forlornly, that they might be able to make an alliance with their old enemies the Habsburgs (with Austria to be paid in money and territory, if it would help defend the territorial integrity of the Ottoman Empire). However, nothing came of this, with Maria Theresa preferring to upset the Sultan, rather than incur the wrath of the Tsarina. The war began with some small advances by the Ottomans, followed by clashes which held the line. The Russians then took their turn at attack in the spring of 1769. They moved quickly taking the areas of Azov and Taganrog. Control of these ports and fortresses meant command of the mouth of the Don, where the river enters the Sea of Azov. The Russians then took Kerch, at the point where the Sea of Azov meets the Black Sea. On a different front, by the turn of 1770, 80,000 Russian troops had left Poland and advanced into Moldavia and Wallachia, quickly occupying most of them, driving the Ottomans back across the Danube. Soon, all Turkish fortresses north of the river, traditional bulwarks of the Ottoman Empire, were in Russian hands. The fortresses on the Dniester, like those on the Danube, also fell to the Russians. The Russian forces crossed the Dniester and inflicted crushing defeats on the Ottomans at Larga, on 7 July (defeating 70,000) and then at Kagul, on 21 July (beating an opposition reputed to be 120,000 strong, making casualties of 20,000 of them, and prisoners of 2,000 more).181 Although these were very significant, the more notable Russian victories of 1770 involved the deployment of a fleet down around western coast of Europe (resting at British harbours en-route), and then through the Mediterranean to arrive in the Aegean Sea. The Ottomans were completely blindsided by the Russian fleet of 14 large vessels, which duly collided with 16 Turkish vessels off the island of Chios, on 25 June. The result was annihilation. Fifteen Turkish ships were destroyed with only one escaping. Nine-thousand Turkish seamen died, as opposed to only 30 Russians. Despite this remarkable naval victory, the hoped-for uprising by Christian Greeks on the surrounding lands did not occur, after which the local populations took matters into their own hands and there was much, mutual, indiscriminate bloodshed. Nonetheless, the sheer scale of the Russian naval adventure, and its stunning success, amazed everyone, in what was, with the exception of Lepanto, Turkey’s worst naval defeat, and conversely, the greatest triumph ever won by Russia on the oceans.182 In 1771, the Crimea, for centuries a vassal of the Ottoman Empire, was about to be levered free by the Russian military. The Khan of the Crimea, with an option of threats of annihilation or promises of support from Russia, agreed that it should, henceforth, be an independent state. Although an armistice was agreed between the primary belligerents at the end of 1771,183 elsewhere in the Ottoman Empire discontent had turned into civil war, which

was now actively encouraged by the Russians. This was most evident in Georgia (which pleaded for Russian help) and Egypt (where Catherine had gained, funded, and ferried 3,000 Albanian troops to assist their new Mameluke ally). Although these rebellions fizzled out, Catherine II had succeeded in creating major fissions within the Ottoman realms. When the talks with Istanbul collapsed at the end of 1772, warfare returned soon after in early 1773. Here, again, although there was short burst of optimism for the Ottomans, the tide turned quickly, and they were outplayed on 9 June 1774, after some 55,000 Russians crossed the Danube and scored another victory when 10,000 of Catherine’s men defeated an opposition force five times their number at Kozludzhi, inflicting over 3,000 casualties on the opposition.184 This was a very serious situation, in which the new Sultan, Abdul Hamid I, opted for peace with the Russians. His worst fear was the Russians were not only much stronger than previously, they were also, now, making ready for a direct line to Istanbul. The treaty that followed on 10 July 1774, was named after the obscure Bulgarian village of KuchukKainardzhi/Kaynarca where the details were sorted out.185 Although this treaty was a humiliation for the Ottomans, it was not a disaster. At this stage, the Russians did not seek to directly sequester the Crimea (as they feared the ongoing loyalties of the locals and the difficulties of the frontier that would have to be defended). Rather, they demanded, that although the Sultan would retain some ceremonial functions for religious considerations with the Crimea: [A]ll the Tatar peoples without exception – Crimean, Budzhat, Kuba … will be acknowledged by both empires to be free and completely independent of any foreign authority … neither the Russian court nor the Ottoman Porte will in any way interfere either in the choice and elevation of the khan or in their household, political, civil and internal affairs.186

The Ottomans also promised, ‘to give its firm protection to the Christian faith and its churches, and likewise to allow ministers of the Russian imperial court to make various representations in all affairs on behalf of the church erected in Constantinople’.187 Speaking rights on behalf of the Christians in Wallachia and Moldavia were also agreed.188 This last point was important as although the Russians were now given a right to represent the Christian populations which they currently occupied, they (the Russians) decided to reverse, and give these recent teritorial conquests back to the Ottomans. Specifically, Russia returned a number of cities (including Akkerman and Izmail), as well as the principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia, and the islands it had captured in the Aegean sea. What they held in Georgia and Mingrelia was also returned. In so doing, the Sultan promised no reprisals against the inhabitants therein, the ‘absolutely free profession of the Christian faith’189 and a two-year tax holiday for the citizens who decided to stay in those places. What was ceded to Russia was the castle at the mouth of the Dnieper River, the fortresses Enikale and Kerch in the Crimean Peninsula, and the city of Azov, all of which, henceforth, ‘remain in the complete, eternal and unquestioned possession of the Russian Empire’.190 In addition, Russian merchant vessels were given the same rights as other nations in the use of Ottoman ports, as well as having ‘free passage from the Black Sea to the White [Mediterranean] Sea [and vice versa]’.191 Finally, by a secret article a large war indemnity

had to be paid by the Ottomans to Russia. To try to keep matters good with the Austrians, the Ottomans concluded a commercial treaty (in 1774). The following year, on May 7, 1775, they decided to cede Bukovina to Austria (although the important Dniester fortress of Khotin, remained in Turkish hands). These acts were deemed necessary so as to keep Austria satisfied, and hopefully, prevent Austria and Russia forming another alliance against the Ottomans.192 (b) Round 2 Although the Ottomans continued to expand their positive relations with western powers in the coming years (making friends and trading with Spain),193 they and the Russians could not manage to maintain their peace. Their breach, despite further diplomatic agreements and understandings194 in the years immediately following the 1774 treaty, was due to three considerations. First, many of the subjects of the Khan of Crimea did not want to be independent from Istanbul. Second, Russian troops entered the Crimea (not leaving until 1779) under the pretext of restoring order for the Khan. Third, both Russia and the Ottomans twisted diplomatic pressure to influence the Khan, or those in opposition to him. However, at this stage, the Ottomans were not keen for a fight, and accordingly, in 1779, they renewed their 1774 commitments, acquiesced to the choice of a new Khan, and granted him the necessary recognition in Muslim terms.195 Despite these moves of appeasement, Catherine’s lead advisor was urging her to annex Crimea, recommending to her in 1780: Look at what the others have acquired without opposition: France took Corsica, the Austrians, without war, took more from the Turks in Moldovia than we did. There are no regional powers in Europe that would not divide Asia, Africa, and America between themselves.196

The pretext Catherine needed occurred in 1782 when a revolt against the Khan in the Crimea broke out, during which a Russian envoy was murdered, and Ottoman advisors were seen in the region. At this point, realising that a stable and independent Crimea was unlikely, Catherine decided not only to send another army into the area, but also to annex the entire region. The Russian manifesto of 8 April 1783, justifying this action, explained it was done because the Ottoman Porte was trying to, ‘exercise supreme authority in Tatar territory’ in terms of bringing troops into the region and executing an envoy. Such acts, ‘nullified our former mutual obligations concerning the freedom and independence of the Tatar people’. Accordingly, to ‘eliminate forever the unpleasant causes that disturb the eternal peace concluded between Russia and Ottoman Empires’ it was decided that although Russia would respect the religious faith of the people, it would, ‘take under our domain, the Crimean peninsula, the island of Taman and the entire Kuban region’.197 At this point, the Ottomans did not fight back against this incorporation of the Crimea into the realm of Russia. They preferred to keep the peace and signed a new treaty of commerce (in June 1783),198 and a shared understanding with Austria (in September).199 Sultan Abdul Hamid I was playing this game, signing peace deals with one hand, while

busily preparing for the next conflict, with the other, because he could feel the temperature was rising. He was deeply aware of how Poland had lost a large slice of territory, and that the alliance that allowed that to happen – Russia and Austria – had recommitted their relationship in 1781,200 and both were interested in ‘liberating’ Christian groups in the area of Greece.201 In addition, the 1783 Treaty of Georgievsk was signed at the end of July, in which east Georgia promised allegiance to Russia (to the exclusion of all others), in exchange for a promise for the protection of its territory and the dynasty who ruled it.202 Despite these tensions coming to the boil, a new treaty of peace and amity was signed between Russia and the Ottomans at the very end of 1783,203 and a further agreement was reached with Austria in late February 1784.204 However, in the same period, Russia put a nice gloss on their (1781) defensive alliance with Austria with a new commercial relationship in 1785,205 and even reconfirmed their friendship with Denmark.206 The depth of this team was reflected in May and June 1787, when Tsarina Catherine and Holy Roman Emperor, Joseph II, together, made a triumphal procession through some of their recently annexed territory. This tour, combined with perpetual rumours of their joint goals of ‘liberating’ part of Greece, and growing discontent of the Russian occupation of the Crimea, forced the Sultan to demand two things. First, that Russia explicitly recognise east Georgia as an Ottoman vassal and second, that Catherine return the Crimea to its independent status. He added that all Russian ships on the Black Sea would now be subject to search, and just to make sure the provocation for war stuck, he imprisoned the Russian ambassador. War was declared on 19 August 1787. Six weeks later, in early October, the Turkish fleet landed 5,000 marines near the Russian Black Sea base at Kinburn. Despite their initiative, this attack was a disaster for the Ottomans, with only 700 of the marines surviving, and many of their ships devastated by the shore batteries.207 As the latest war broke out, Sultan Abdul called upon what he hoped would be a new set of allies. Of these, Spain, despite having a new peace and commercial relationship from 1782, said it would not help the Ottomans in a military conflict. Morocco (which was busy building, not burning, relationships with European countries) declined because it said it had no vessels it could spare. France gave lots of encouragement, but no manpower. The help that the Ottoman Empire received came from Sweden. In the middle of 1788, Gustavus III, the king of Sweden, saw an opportunity to regain the lands lost in earlier decades and agreed to join the fight against Catherine II. With Russia preoccupied fighting the Ottomans on its eastern front, Gustavus set his sights upon retaking Finland and stripping away Russia’s Baltic provinces on its western front. Accordingly, on 1 July 1788, the ultimatum he gave to Catherine demanded the return of all former Swedish territories on the Baltic. He also insisted that Russia return the Crimea, and all recently acquired Ottoman territories, to Istanbul. To further his demands, the Swedish forces marched into Russian held areas of Finland. Despite such bluster, the Swedes found themselves outplayed. Although they achieved some naval victories in the Baltic against the Russian fleet, Russia’s ally, Denmark, suddenly attacked Gothenburg in southwest Sweden, meaning that the main Swedish force had to retreat from Finland, to come back to defend their own home territories.

Accordingly, by October 1788, Sweden was seeking to exit the war against Denmark, almost as quickly as it had entered it.208 Catherine II now prepared for the counterpunch. Calling upon Austria and their recently affirmed alliance, Emperor Joseph II, started mobilising and in 1788, advanced towards the enemy. While the Austrian army dealt itself a body-blow, killing perhaps thousands of its own men in a mistaken friendly fire incident at Slatina, the Russians made large gains at Khotin, Jassy and Ochakov, with the latter submitting at the end of 1788 when it was stormed. Over a four-hour period, maybe up to 10,000 Russians died in the attack, and an equal number or more of the 20,000 defenders were killed.209 The next year, in late May 1789, the Russians and Austrians recommitted themselves to their joint alliance.210 To this, in early July, Sweden and Turkey replied with their own treaty.211 In the same period, the Russians then won a major naval battle against the Swedes (although both sides lost an equal number of casualties) at Svenskund, while around the same time, the Russians and Austrians entered Moldavia. On 21 August, the Ottomans suffered nearly 4,000 casualties (more than quadruple their opposition) at Foscani, while at Rimnik on 23 September, an Ottoman force of 70,000 was broken, in which over 15,000 died and a further 3,000 were wounded (for allied losses of a little over 600). The fortress towns of Ackkerman and Bender (with 20,000 soldiers in it) capitulated without a fight. To top the year off, the Austrians captured Belgrade on 8 October.212 (c) Peace at the End of the Eighteenth Century The following year was no better for the team fighting Russia and Austria. By late August 1790, the Swedish side dropped out of the war and opted for peace having been mauled at the naval battle of Vybourg in early July (suffering over 5,000 casualties), before inflicting a massive loss on the Russians (over 7,300, at the second battle of Svenskund, on 9 July). Although this was the last major sea battle in history in which oar-powered ships played a significant role, it was still an impressive victory for the Swedish navy. Had the Swedish navy failed, the country would have been completely lost. They were cognizant that although the last Russian wave had failed, the next one could completely swamp them. Accordingly, rather than play in such high-stakes games, they opted for peace, signing the Treaty of Varala on 14 August 1790.213 The Sultan was originally upbeat about Sweden dropping out of the conflict, as he hoped that the more powerful Prussia would take their place, as they had signed an alliance in early 1790.214 However, Frederick William II, was wise enough to distance himself from these promises when the full power of the Russian and Austrian alliance became obvious. Accordingly, despite the pleas of the Sultan, the Prussians decided it was best to not get involved.215 The decision not to join the Ottomans would have been easy, after hearing of the Russian’s naval victories off Tendra in the Aegean on 8 September 1790, when they lost 46 men, but inflicted 1,400 casualties on the opposition. The Russian army then reached the

lower Danube, capturing one town after another, until they reached Izmail, one of the most formidable fortresses in Europe, defended by 35,000 men and 265 canons. In the bloody sack that followed, Russian casualties were as high as 10,000, while Ottoman numbers may have been three times as high.216 The only good news for the Ottomans in this period was that the new Habsburg Emperor, Leopold II (who took the place of his brother, Joseph II who had died on 11 February 1790) had no desire to carry on the war against the Muslims. Accordingly, despite the alliance with Russia, Austria left the engagement, first making an armistice in September, and then a peace signed at Sistovi, with Sultan Selim III (who had come to power after the natural death of Abdul Hamid I, in April 1789) from 4 August 1791.217 With this, Leopold II gave up Belgrade, and only took in exchange the few tokens of the town of Orsova and some areas on the Croatian frontier. Austria accepted this deal, so it could deal with the uprising in the Austrian Netherlands, a possible strike by Prussia, and the escalating risk with France and the French revolutionaries it contained.218 This peace between Vienna and Istanbul meant that Russia was now left to fight on, alone, against the Ottomans. Undeterred, Catherine pushed her troops forward again. The Ottomans decided by the summer of 1791 that it made sense to opt for peace. The Treaty of Jassy that was signed at the very end of 1791 was very good for the Russians. With this deal, the mouth of the Dniper with Ochakov at one point, and the territory between the Bug and the Dniester rivers (the city of Odessa was founded there on the site of a ruined Turkish fortress in 1793) at the other point, made the Dniester river Russia’s new frontier in eastern Europe. In addition, the Sultan accepted a Russian naval base at Sevastopol, which provided Russia with a permanent naval presence on the Black Sea. Finally, in terms of the Crimea, most of the principles agreed in 1774 were reiterated. The difference now was that the Ottomans ceded the Crimea to Russia. The result of this was that over the coming years the population of Crimean Tatars would fall from about 5 million, to less than one-tenth of that figure.219 The last step of significance for Russia in this final decade of the eighteenth century pertained to east Georgia. This area had attempted to cement a relationship as a protectorate of Russia in 1783. While it had managed to achieve neutrality during the Russian-Ottoman conflict of the 1780s (after the Russians were redeployed to fight elsewhere), when this conflict came to an end, the area was overrun by the Persian Qajar ruler (Agha Mohammad Khan) who wanted to reintegrate east Georgia into the Persian realm, not allowing it to splinter off. As the Russians did not assist in its defence when it was attacked in 1795, its 7,000 soldiers were defeated by a force close to 40,000 and its capital, Tbilisi, was destroyed. It was not until four years later, in 1799, that the Russians made it to Tbilisi, after most of the original rulers had been removed and the Qajar had largely left. At this point, the Russians took control of east Georgia, which they annexed in 1801.220

14.

War and Peace in Eighteenth-century North Africa

The final area to note in terms of external Muslim relations with European countries in the eighteenth century was North Africa. Here, the trend was towards treaties of peace and trade, rather than direct conflict as was the pattern in the past. Thus, Britain made such treaties, beginning with Algiers in 1701, 1707 and then 1716, in which both sides promised, ‘henceforth, not to do each other harm, offence or injury, either in word or deed’.221 Further treaties like this were made by Britain with Algiers in 1729, 1751, 1762 and 1765.222 Protected shipping, peace and commerce were also the pattern of Britain with Tunis223 and Tripoli.224 The British relationship with Morocco followed the same pattern throughout the eighteenth century with the two sides increasingly opting for peace, protection (of mariners) and commerce.225 France, would continue in the same pattern as Britain, concluding a long sequence of peace deals, protection and commerce deals with Tunis,226 Algiers,227 Tripoli,228 and Morocco.229 In other instances, such as with the French holdings in Muslim Madagascar, they simply abandoned in 1768 what they possessed. Where the pattern was different to the past was that in the eighteenth century, the United Provinces started to make deals with these four parts of North Africa.230 So too did Austria231 and Sweden.232 Denmark followed the same pattern in the second half of the eighteenth century,233 as did Sicily and Tuscany,234 both traditionally long-standing enemies with the Muslim entities in North Africa. Even Portugal reached a treaty of peace and commerce with Tripoli.235 Perhaps most notably of all, the newly formed United States in 1795 struck a treaty of peace, friendship and commerce with Muslim Algiers.236 A similar deal was struck with Tripoli the following year in 1796237 and then Tunis in 1799.238 Conversely, a few European countries tried to hang on tightly to what possessions they held in North Africa, albeit, slowly losing their grip during the eighteenth century. Spain was the most obvious example of this, losing the port of Oran in 1708 (and thousands of men in the process) before re-taking it in 1732; while also holding Ceuta (despite a siege of 30 years). Although Spain would eventually reach peace with Morocco, in 1767 agreeing to a ‘true friendship’239 in which each side promised to deal with each other ‘as equals’, (promising free trade, protected shipping, and the resolution of differences peacefully) with Algiers, violence was the pattern. With this country, Spain would battle fiercely in 1775 (with 51 ships and 20,000 infantry), and again in 1783 and 1784, but with no success. Even the new deal that Spain had made with the Ottomans in 1782 could not bring peace with Algiers, as their leader preferred to battle Spain and defy Istanbul, until their own peace agreement was reached in 1786, with the Treaty of Peace between Spain and Algeria. This contained not only an exchange of ambassadors and the facilitation of trade, but also, ‘a mutual understanding that all merchantile shipping of either party shall be able to sail without fear of attack or harassment, for whatever cause, from the other’.240 The final point to note about the North African area was that from a new part of the Ottoman Empire, namely Egypt, began to act increasingly independently in this part of the world. From the last few decades of the eighteenth century, new policies developed from a region that was previously under the wing of Istanbul. This change was especially evident in

terms of relationships between Egypt and western countries, to which in 1775 (with England)241 and 1785 (with France)242 agreements were struck for freedom of commerce and navigation. The significance of this change, is that it was here Napoleon invaded at the end of the century, and for the first time, the Ottoman Empire became fully interwoven in a war against western European forces, with European allies next to it.

15.

The Challenge at the Epicentre of the Ottoman Empire

As the battle to eject Napoleon and his French forces from Egypt was occurring, the seeds for a much larger threat to the Ottoman rule overall were being laid in its outer provinces. That is, although Sultan Selim was busy trying to organise (from 1792) a ‘New Order’ (which consisted of learning deeply about the western military techniques and technologies, whilst at the same time, pursuing intense Islamic puritanism) others within the vast Ottoman realm, with overlapping dreams of autonomy from Istanbul, were arguing for more radical approaches. Within this mix of thinkers who wanted to break from Istanbul and revert to a type of conservative theology, was Muhammad ibn Abd-al-Wahhab. This man developed a radical strain of thinking that rejected all innovation in Islamic religion (and most innovation in social contexts too). He called for tight discipline and loyalty amongst those of the shared theological faith, and intolerance with a willingness to use force if necessary, against those who had opposing views – Muslim and non-Muslim. This theology became linked, in a mutually beneficial relationship of support, with Muhammad ibn Saud (to what became the House of Saud). Together, this combination began to seize territory from within the Arabian penninsula, resulting in both military reactions and theological refutations fired from Istanbul.243

16.

Conclusion

At the beginning of 1650, the power of the Muslim world was massive. The Ottoman Empire was vast, the Safavid Dynasty was powerful, and the Mughals ruled most of India. By 1800, the Ottoman Empire was in full retreat, the Safavid Dynasty had disappeared from history, while the power of Muslim India had been sapped it. The Ottomans began the second half of the seventeenth century much as they had in the past, making peace and making war, and keeping their enemies divided. This allowed them to finally take Crete, and make advances, either directly or via proxies, into the hinterlands of both Poland-Lithuania and the Habsburg lands in Hungary. This pattern could have continued had they not tried to capture Vienna, which triggered an unprecedented response, as multiple western nations and volunteers, clubbed together, and collectively, pushed back against the Ottomans. This momentum, with the Austrian Habsburgs at the core, supplemented by Russia, Poland-Lithuania, Venice and several smaller areas against the Ottomans was unprecedented.

It only slowed towards the end of the seventeenth century, when the members of the alliance began to fade due to more pressing conflicts in the western world. Nonetheless, the peace deals achieved were impressive with considerable degrees of territory retrieved. Although there was a respite in their wars with Peter the Great (whom they defeated), the slack was quickly taken up, with the Venetians and the Habsburgs returning to push hard on Istanbul. Although the Ottomans regained some territory in the 1730s, in the following decades, the tide turned fully against them. Three decades of conflict from the late 1760s followed with Russia as the main protagonist, and Habsburg Austria in support. The tangible result was that the Crimea went from being under Ottoman control, to being independent, then ended up being under Russian control. Similarly, Georgia slipped under the wing of the Tsar. How much more Russia and Austria would have reclaimed from the Ottomans is a matter of debate, as they suddenly had a new shared enemy with the revolutionary French Republic. This French seizure of Egypt occurred as new challenges started to arise in other Ottoman territories, as new groups began to develop intolerant theologies that rejected many of the directions of the Ottomans, fellow Sunni or not. The Safavid dynasty which had ruled in Persia from the 1500s was gone by the 1800s. The catalyst for its demise was its religious intolerance towards groups in Afghanistan which returned to invade the country. The invasion encouraged others, such as the Ottomans, to also enter in search of rewards. The Russians were a counterweight in support of the established regime, but by the time Nader Shah rose, they had lost interest. Nader Shah was spectacular. He incessantly battled those who challenged his authority, while making peace and alliances with the Russians, and then, battled the Ottomans. The difference with the latter, was that unlike many before him, he repeatedly tried to find a theological middle ground between the Sunni and the Shia which had resulted in centuries of warfare. While he was willing to compromise in this area, Istanbul was not. The full strength of Nader Shah was shown with his conquest of Afghanistan and then, remarkably, Mughal India. With a mix of justifications, he found it relatively easy to conquer these fellow Muslim lands. This was possible because the Mughal rule, especially under Aurangzeb, while vast in its initial geographical scope, was small in its tolerance of other faiths. This intolerence caused rebellions against Mughal rule. The result was that the sons of Aurangzeb saw an increasingly shrinking pool of power, and when Nader Shah struck, a surprising lack of allies turned out to help defend the land. As it was, the end of Nader Shah came not from a foreign empire, but his own bodyguards, who feared for their own safety. In the vortex that developed after his death, the Zand rose for some decades, before being replaced by the Qajar. With each switch, the importance of religion was echoed, as the frontier lands started to get chipped away between the Ottomans and the Russians, seeking to benefit from a weak neighbour. This type of weakness was also evident in India, where, post-Nader Shah, a centralised Mughal power disappeared and strong, largely independent regional bodies (often with different faiths) started to form in their place. In this land of counterweights, the Europeans saw opportunity, as what were originally restrictive trading relationships turned into mutually beneficial military alliances. These alliances, which often mirrored the wider European conflicts in the world, slowly, saw Britain rise to the fore.

1 Baer, D (2008). Honoured by the Glory of Islam: Conversion and Conquest in Ottoman Europe. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 28–30, 35–37, 58–60; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 241–46, 262; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 331; Carsten, F (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 507. 2 Khafipour, H (ed.) The Empires of the Near East and India: Source Studies of the Safavid, Ottoman and Mughal Literate Communities. (Columbia University Press, NYC, 2019). 34–37; Baer, M (2009). ‘Tolerance and Conversation in the Ottoman Empire’. Comparative Studies in Society and History. 51(4): 927–40; Baer, M (2004). ‘The Great Fire of 1660 and the Islamisation of Christian and Jewish Space in Istanbul’. International Journal of Middle East Studies. 36(2): 159–81; Zilfi, M (1986). ‘The Kadizadelis: Discordant Revivalism in Seventeenth Century Istanbul’. Journal of Near Eastern Studies. 45: 251–69. 3 As quoted in Baer, D (2008). Honoured by the Glory of Islam: Conversion and Conquest in Ottoman Europe. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 78. See also pp 57–58. 4 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 55; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 247–48, 256; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 331. 5 See the Articles of Peace between Transylvania and Poland, 4 CTS 415. 6 Carsten, F (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 509. 7 See the Defensive Alliance between the Emperor and Princes of the Empire, 7 CTS 51. 8 See the Truce between Austria, Transylvania and Turkey, 7 CTS 187. 9 Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 256–57, 266. 10 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 57; Tuck, C (2008). ‘Military Reform and the Ottoman Empire in the Eighteenth Century’. Journal of Strategic Studies. 31(3): 467–502; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 66–67; Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 544. 11 The 1664 Treaty of Peace Between Austria and the Ottomans. This is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 39–44. Also, 8 CTS 179. 12 See Curtis, B (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 153; Carsten, F (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History. The Ascendancy of France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1961). V: 201, 203. 13 For the agreement with the Transylvanian princes, see 11 CTS 127; and for the French relationship with the Ottomans, see the 1673 agreement, at 12 CTS 463. 14 See the 1665 Treaty of Commerce between Turkey and Genoa, as at 8 CTS 229. 15 This quote is in Baer, D (2008). Honoured by the Glory of Islam: Conversion and Conquest in Ottoman Europe. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 151. 16 The Peace Treaty between Venice and the Ottomans. This is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 725–26. 17 This quote is in Baer, D (2008). Honoured by the Glory of Islam: Conversion and Conquest in Ottoman Europe. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 160–1. See also, Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 270; Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random, NYC). 85; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 337. 18 See the Treaty of Peace between Russia and Tartary, as in 11 CTS 313. 19 The Vezir, as in Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 339. 20 The 1672 Peace Treaty between Poland-Lithuania and the Ottoman Empire. This is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 382–4.

21 Baer, D (2008). Honoured by the Glory of Islam: Conversion and Conquest in Ottoman Europe. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 162–73. 22 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 57; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 371. 23 The 1676 Treaty of Peace Between Poland-Lithuania and the Ottomans. This is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 384–85. The 1679 Treaty is in the same volume at 386–89. 24 This was consistent with the 1667 treaty of Andrusovo. See pages 291–292 of this volume. See also Stevens, C (2007). Russia’s Wars of Emergence, 1460–1730. (Pearson, Harlow) 190, 193; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 275, 282. 25 Matar, N (2009). ‘Britons and Muslims in the Early Modern Period’. Patterns of Prejudice. 43(3): 213–31; Almond, I (2006). ‘Leibniz, Historicism and the Plague of Islam’. Eighteenth Century Studies 39(4): 463–83,587; Irakman, A (2001). ‘From Tyranny to Despotism: The Enlightenments Unenlightened Image of the Turks’. International Journal of Middle East Studies. 33(1): 49–68; Kaiser, T (2000). ‘The Debate on Turkish Despotism in Eighteenth Century French Political Culture’. The Journal of Modern History. 72(1): 6–34; Kidd, T (2003). ‘Early American Uses of Islam’. Church History. 72(4): 766– 90; Riley P (ed.) Leibniz: Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1996). 34. 26 Zouche, Z (1650). Law Between Nations, and Questions Concerning the Same. (trans, Brierly, B, Baltimore Press, Maryland, 1911). 117, and p 100. 27 Textor, JW (1680). Synopsis of the Law of Nations. (ed Scott, J, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1916). 252. 28 See the Capitulations between England and Turkey, as in 13 CTS 429. 29 See the Capitulations between the United Provinces and Turkey, as in 15 CTS 449. See Bulut, M (2002). ‘The Role of the Ottomans and Dutch in the Commercial Integration between the Levant and Atlantic in the Seventeenth Century’. Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient. 45(2): 197–230. 30 See the Capitulations between France and Turkey, as in 12 CTS 463. 31 Louis, as in Wolf, J (1951). The Emergence of the Great Powers, 1685–1715. (Harper, NYC). 21. Also, Wilkinson, R (2007) Louis XIV. (Routledge, London). 138. 32 The 1681 Treaty of Peace between Austria and the Ottomans. This is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 44–45. 33 As in Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 283. Bromley, J. (1970). The New Cambridge Modern History. The Rise of Great Britain and Russia. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VI: 498–500. 34 The Sultan’s Declaration of War on the Emperor is reprinted in Macartney, C (ed.) The Habsburg and Hohenzollern Dynasties in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. (Harper, NYC). 57–58. 35 Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 342. 36 Ingram, A (2014). ‘The Ottoman Siege of Vienna’. The Historical Journal 57(1): 53–80; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 156–57. 37 Wheatcroft, A (2008). The Enemy at the Gate: The Habsburgs, Ottomans and the Battle for Europe. (Basic, London). 24–26, 47–51, 73, 108–9, 170–86, 199; Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 342; Davies, N (2005). God’s Playground: A History of Poland. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). I 361–65; Stoye, J (2000). The Siege of Vienna. (Birlinn, Reading). 39–40. 38 Note the 1677 Alliance between the Empire and Poland, 14 Consolidated Treaty Series 209. 39 The Perpetual Offensive and Defensive Alliance between the Empire and Poland, 16 Consolidated Treaty Series at 415. 40 See the Alliance between the Empire, Poland and Venice, as at 17 Consolidated Treaty Series 1. 41 See Norwich, J (2011). Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy. (Random House, London). 343. 42 The first part of the quote is from art 5, and the second part, from art 10 of the 1684 Truce, as reprinted in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 156. Also, 17 CTS 127, 150 and 151.

43 See Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 291; Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random, NYC). 84; Wolf, J (1951). The Emergence of the Great Powers, 1685–1715. (Harper, NYC). 30–32. 44 See the Agreement between the Emperor and Transylvania, 17 Consolidated Treaty Series 381. For the subsequent promises, see 18 CTS 13, 18 CTS 57, 18 CTS 101, 18 CTS 173, 18 CTS 183, 18 CTS 203, 18 CTS 221, 18 CTS 333, 19 CTS 33, 19 CTS 39. 45 The 1686 Treaty of Offensive Alliance between Russia and Poland-Lithuania. 17 Consolidated Treaty Series 491. 46 Curtis, B (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 153; Childs, J (2001). Warfare in the 17th Century. (Cassel, London). 128–29; Stoye, J (2000). The Siege of Vienna. (Birlinn, Reading). 230; Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random House, NYC). 87. 47 See the Treaty between the Emperor and Transylvania, as at 18 CTS 173 and 183. 48 Black, A (2011). The History of Islamic Political Thought. (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh). 258–59. 49 Wheatcroft, A (2008). The Enemy at the Gate: The Habsburgs, Ottomans and the Battle for Europe. (Basic, London). 215–20. 50 The ‘Serb Privilege’ of 1691. This is reprinted in Macartney, C (ed.) The Habsburg and Hohenzollern Dynasties in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. (Harper, NYC). 79, 80. Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). IV: 161, 189, 234–35, 683. 51 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 160–62, 164. 52 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 59; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 292–93, 308. 53 Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 354, 356–57. 54 Black, A (2011). The History of Islamic Political Thought. (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh). 273. 55 See the 1697 Alliance Against the Ottomans between the Empire, Venice and Russia, 21 CTS 287. 56 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 388; Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 230–31; Rifaat, A (1969). ‘The Formal Closure of the Ottoman Frontier in Europe: 1699–1703’. Journal of the American Oriental Society. 89(3): 467–75. 57 The figures are from Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 59 and White, M (2011). Atrocitology: Humanity’s 100 Deadliest Achievements. (Text, Melbourne). 237. 58 See the Truce between Russia and Turkey, 22 CTS 211. 59 The Peace of Carlowitz between Austria and the Ottomans, 1699, as in Reddaway, W (1930). Select Documents in European History. (Methuen, London). II: 171–72. Also in 22 CTS 219. 60 The 1699 Peace of Carlowitz, between the Ottoman Empire and Poland-Lithuania. This is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 393–99. 61 The 1699 Peace of Carlowitz between the Ottoman Empire and Venice. This is in the Foreign Office (1855), ibid 727–35. 62 The 1700 Peace between Russia and Turkey, as at 23 Consolidated Treaty Series 25. 63 Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random House, NYC). 285–86; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 366. 64 See 9 CTS 123. 65 2 CTS 279, 4 CTS 251, 16 CTS 415, 17 CTS 51 and 20 CTS 65. 66 McCluskey, P (2009). ‘France, the Ottoman Empire and the Barbary Pirates’. French History 23(1): 1–21; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 85–86; Bromley, J (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The Rise of Great Britain and France. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1969). 554. 67 See 7 CTS 173 and 269; 8 CTS 215; 12 CTS 83 and 17 CTS 483. 68 See 7 CTS 247, 14 CTS 73, 14 CTS 99, 18 CTS 113 and 20 CTS 445. 69 See 8 CTS 383, 9 CTS 253, 12 CTS 343, 17 CTS 287, 19 CTS 381.

70 See 9 CTS 155, 15 CTS 103, 17 CTS 43 and 17 CTS 51, 18 CTS 491, 20 CTS 353. 71 16 CTS 151 and 20 CTS 29. 72 7 CTS 73 and 223. 73 7 CTS 113, 15 CTS 137. 74 See the 1701 Treaty Between the Empire and the Ottomans Regarding Execution of Agreed Boundary Measures, 23 Consolidated Treaty Series 233. 75 Also, Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 330–31; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 369–70; Bromley, J. (1970). The New Cambridge Modern History. The Rise of Great Britain and Russia. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VI: 630, 632. 76 The 1703 Treaty between Poland and Turkey, as at 25 Consolidated Treaty Series 7. 77 The 1705 Convention on Limits is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 753. 78 See the Treaty between Russia and Turkey, 26 Consolidated Treaty Series 457. 79 Peter, as in Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random, NYC). at 551. See also pages 476–77, 547. 80 See Wolf, J (1951). The Emergence of the Great Powers, 1685–1715. (Harper, NYC). 150–51. 81 See Gillespie, A (2014) The Causes of War (Hart, Oxford) I: 176–7. Piirimae, P (2007). ‘Russia, The Turks and Europe: Legitimations of War and the Formation of European Identity in the Early Modern Period’. Journal of Early Modern History. 11(1): 63, 71–73, 75; Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 233; Kopanski, A (1998). ‘Burden of the Third Rome’. Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations. 9(2): 193–216; Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random House, NYC). 137. 82 See the Treaty between Russia and Moldavia, at 27 CTS 71. 83 The ‘Charter of the Moldavian Prince, 1711’. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven). II: 335. 84 Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 365, 372. 85 The Treaty of Pruth. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, ibid. II: 335. Also in 27 CTS 149. 86 See Massie, R (1980). Peter the Great: His Life and World. (Random, NYC). 560–66. 87 The Treaty of Peace and Amity between Russia and Turkey, as in 27 CTS 231. 88 The 1713 Treaty of Adrianopole is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 440. 89 Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 336–37; Bromley, J. (1970). The New Cambridge Modern History. The Rise of Great Britain and Russia. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VI: 638. 90 See the Alliance between Austria and Venice, as at 29 CTS 435. 91 The articles of capitulation for Belgrade are in 30 Consolidated Treaty Series 167. For the figures, see Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 92. 92 Rega, I (2018). ‘The New Lepanto? John V of Portugal and the Battle of Matapan’. Journal of Iberian and LatinAmerican Studies. 24(1): 93–106; Curtis, (2013). The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty. (Bloomsbury, London). 175; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 375–76. 93 The Austrian portion of the 1718 Treaty of Passarowitz is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 67–80. The Venetian section of this peace is in the same volume, at 738. 94 See the Treaty of Peace between Russia and Turkey, as at 31 Consolidated Treaty Series 271. 95 Black, A (2011). The History of Islamic Political Thought. (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh). 267. 96 Streusand, D (2011). Islamic Gunpowder Empires. (Westview, Philadelphia). 135–40, 155.

97 Arjomand, A (1981). ‘The Shi’ite Hierocracy and the State in Pre-modern Iran’. European Journal of Sociology. 22(1): 40–78. 98 See Khafipour, H (ed.) The Empires of the Near East and India: Source Studies of the Safavid, Ottoman and Mughal Literate Communities. (Columbia University Press, NYC, 2019). 14–16; Lewisohn, L (1998). ‘An Introduction to the History of Modern Persian Sufism: Persecution, Revival and Schism’. The Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies. 61(3): 437–64; Foran, J (1992). ‘The Long Fall of the Safavid Dynasty: Moving Beyond the Standard Views’. International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies. 24(2): 281–304. 99 For some of the early capitulations with the Europeans, see 26 CTS 197 and 29 CTS 311. See also, Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 113–14; Streusand, D (2011). Islamic Gunpowder Empires. (Westview, Philadelphia). 155, 157, 197–99; Axworthy, M (2009). The Sword of Persia: Nader Shah. (Tauris, London). 45–49. 100 See the Treaty of Alliance between Russia and Persia, as in 31 Consolidated Treaty Series 423. 101 This quote is from Lockhart, L (1958). The Fall of Safavi Dynasty and the Afghan Occupation of Persia. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 172. 102 See the 1724 ‘Russo-Ottoman Treaty for the Partition of Persia’s Northwest Provinces’. This is reprinted in Hurewitz, J (ed.) Diplomacy in the Near and Middle East: A Documentary Record. (Nostrand, New Jersey). I: 42–45. 103 Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 351–52. 104 Axworthy, M (2009). The Sword of Persia: Nader Shah. (Tauris, London). 70–71, 87–89. 105 See the Treaty between Persia and Turkey, as in 33 CTS 33. 106 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 114. 107 Konrad, F (2014). ‘Coping with the Riff Raff and the Mob: Representations of Order and Disorder in the Patrona Halik Rebellion’. Die Welt Des Islams. 54: 363–68; Black, A (2011). The History of Islamic Political Thought. (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh). 267; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 355–57, 362–64. 108 Malcolm, J (1808). ‘Translations of Two Letters of Nadir Shah’. Asiatick Researches. 10: 526, 533. 109 Tucker, E (1993). ‘Explaining Nadir Shah: Kingship and Royal Legitimacy’. Iranian Studies 26(1): 95–117. 110 See the 1732, ‘Treaty of Peace, Amity and Commerce’. This is reprinted in Hurewitz, J (ed.) Diplomacy in the Near and Middle East: A Documentary Record. (Nostrand, New Jersey). I: 45–47; Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 234. 111 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 115. 112 Axworthy, M (2009). The Sword of Persia: Nader Shah. (IB Tauris, London). 166–69. 113 Pickett, J (2016). ‘Nadir Shah’s Peculiar Central Asian Legacy: Empire, Conversion and the Rise of New Scholarly Dynasties’. International Journal of Middle East Studies. 48(3): 491–510. 114 Tucker, E (1994). ‘Nadir Shah and the Ja ‘fari Madhhab Reconsidered’. Iranian Studies. 27(1): 163–79. 115 See the Convention on Limits between Russia and Turkey, as at 33 CTS 69. 116 See pages 303–305. 117 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 92. 118 See the Declaration between the Emperor and Russia, as at 35 CTS 69. Note also their 1739 treaty at 35 CTS 353. 119 Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC) 205, 213–14; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 386–87. 120 The Treaty of Peace at Belgrade between the Ottoman Empire and Austria is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 93. Also at 35 CTS 359, 369 and 381. 121 See also, Roidere, K (1972). ‘The Perils of Eighteenth-century Peacemaking: Austria and the Treaty of Belgrade’. Central European History. 5(3): 197–205. 122 The Treaty of Peace at Belgrade between the Ottoman Empire and Russia is reprinted in Hurewitz, J (ed.) Diplomacy in the Near and Middle East: A Documentary Record. (Nostrand, New Jersey). I: 47–50.

123 See the 1737 Treaty of Commerce and Navigation with Sweden is at 35 CTS 1. 124 The 1740 Defensive Alliance between Sweden and Turkey is reprinted in the Foreign Office, ibid, at 633. Also in 35 CTS 493. 125 See the 1740 Peace between Turkey and the Two Sicilies, 36 CTS 9. Note also, the Treaties of Peace and Commerce with Tuscany, as reprinted in the Foreign Office, ibid. 679. 126 The 1740 Treaty of Commerce and Capitulations is reprinted in the Foreign Office, ibid. 202. Also in 36 CTS 41. 127 This quote is in Gommans, J (2002). Mughal Warfare. (Routledge, London). 164. See also 20–21, 50–55, 171–75, 180–87. 128 See Khafipour, H (ed.) The Empires of the Near East and India: Source Studies of the Safavid, Ottoman and Mughal Literate Communities. (Columbia University Press, NYC, 2019). 241–60; Streusand, D (2011). Islamic Gunpowder Empires. (Westview, Philadelphia). Streusand, D (2011). Islamic Gunpowder Empires. (Westview, Philadelphia). 232–36, 237–38, 251; Singh, C (1988). ‘Centre and Periphery in the Mughal State’. Modern Asian Studies. 22(2): 299–318. 129 Hodgson, M (1974). The Venture of Islam. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). III: 92–98. 130 Sheikh, S (2018). ‘Aurangzeb as Seen from Gujarat’. Journal of the Royal Asian Society. 28(3): 557–81; Brown, K (2007). ‘Did Aurangzeb Ban Music?’ Modern Asian Studies. 41(1): 77–120. 131 White, M (2011). Atrocitology: Humanity’s 100 Deadliest Achievements. (Text, Melbourne). 233; Black, A (2011). The History of Islamic Political Thought. (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh) 247–50; Richards, J (2008). The Mughal Empire. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 153, 158–61, 222–23, 230–36, 241–42, 247; Kulke, H (1996). A History of India. (Routledge, London). 207–9; McLeod, W (1992). ‘The Sikh Struggle in the Eighteenth Century and its Relevance for Today’. History of Religions. 31(4): 344–62. 132 Streusand, D (2011). Islamic Gunpowder Empires. (Westview, Philadelphia). 277; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 88, 91; Lynn, J (1999). The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714. (Pearson, Harlow). 262. 133 Richards, J (2008). The Mughal Empire. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). 254–58, 262–80; Ali, A (1975). ‘The Passing of Empire: The Mughal Case’. Modern Asian Studies. 9(3): 385–96; Kulke, H (1996). A History of India. (Routledge, London) 221–24; Hodgson, M (1974). The Venture of Islam. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). III: 144–46. 134 Axworthy, M (2007). ‘The Army of Nader Shah’. Iranian Studies. 40(5): 635–46. 135 Axworthy, M (2009). The Sword of Persia: Nader Shah. (IB Tauris, London). 190, 192–94, 196, 206. 136 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 115; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 410; Tucker, E (1998). ‘1739: History, Self and the Other in Afsharid Iran and Mughal India’. Iranian Studies 31(2): 207–17. 137 Nader, as in Lockhart, L (1926). ‘De Voulton’s Noticia’. Bulletin of the School of Oriental Studies. 4(2): 233. 138 Subrahmanyam, S (2000). ‘Dreaming of an Indo-Persian Empire’. Journal of Early Modern History. 4(3): 337–78. 139 Axworthy, M (2009). The Sword of Persia: Nader Shah. (IB Tauris, London). 6–8, 12–13, 236–37, 257–58 140 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 115. 141 The 1746 Treaty of Peace between the Ottomans and Persia as reprinted in Hurewitz, J (ed.) Diplomacy in the Near and Middle East: A Documentary Record. (Nostrand, New Jersey). I: 51, 52. Also in 37 CTS 441 and 38 CTS 115. 142 See the Agreement between the East India Company and Persia at 42 CTS 393 and 435. 143 Rayfield, D (2012). Edge of Empires: A History of Georgia. (Reaktion, London). 240–42; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 407–41. 144 Lewisohn, L (1998). ‘An Introduction to the History of Modern Persian Sufism: Persecution, Revival and Schism’. The Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies. 61(3): 437–64; Arjomand, A (1981). ‘The Shi’ite Hierocracy and the State in Pre-modern Iran’. European Journal of Sociology. 22(1): 40, 45–46; Abrahamian, E (1974). ‘Oriental Despotism: The Case of Qajar Iran’. International Journal of Middle East Studies. 5(1): 3–31; Hodgson, M (1974). The Venture of Islam. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). III: 154–56. 145 Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 60–61. 146 See, for example, the 1742 Grant between France and the Mahrattas, as in 36 CTS 189.

147 Kulke, H (1996). A History of India. (Routledge, London) 226–27. 148 Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688–1783. (Pearson, London) 92–93, 100–5, 109. 149 Kulke, H (1996). A History of India. (Routledge, London). 227, 230–32. 150 See the 1754 Treaty between the East India Companies of France and Britain, 40 CTS 243. 151 See the 1755 Articles of Agreement between the East India Company and the Mahrattas, 40 CTS 255. 152 Dettman, B (1997). ‘The Black Hole: Separating Myth from Fact’. Military History. 14(1): 38–46; Dettman, B (1997). ‘The Siege of Calcutta’. Military History. 14(1): 34–38. Also, Bryant, G (2004). ‘British Logistics and the Conduct of the Carnatic Wars’. War in History. 11(3): 278–306; Dorn, W (1963) Competition for Empire, 1740–1763. (Harper, NYC). 272. 153 See the Cherical Treaty for the Expulsion of the French, 40 CTS 427. 154 Marston, D (2001). The Seven Years’ War. (Osprey, London). 46; Lenman, B (2001). Britain’s Colonial Wars, 1688– 1783. (Pearson, London) 109. 155 See Chalmers, G (ed.) A Collection of Treaties between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Stockdale, London). III: 463. Note also the Agreement with Surat, 1758, at 41 CTS 175. 156 See the two 1759 Alliances with Surat, and Cannanore, at 41 CTS 175 and 41 CTS 277. 157 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 421, 426, 443; Marston, D (2001). The Seven Years’ War. (Osprey, London). 46, 67. 158 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 110– 11; Faruqui, M (2009). ‘At Empire’s End: The Nizam, Hyderabad and Eighteenth Century India’. Modern Asian Studies. 43(1): 5–43; Hodgson, M (1974). The Venture of Islam. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). III: 147. 159 See, for example, the 1762 treaty made between the British and Nine different authorities. This in 42 CTS 201. That with Bengal is at 42 CTS 439. 160 The 1765 Treaty between the East India Company and Bengal. 16 August. 43 CTS 187. 161 See the 1765 Treaty between France and the Carnatic. 43 CTS 125. 162 The 1765 Treaty between the East India Company and the Mughal Emperor 43 CTS 217. 163 See Roy, K (2005). ‘Military Synthesis in South Asia: Armies, Warfare and Indian Society, 1740–1849’. The Journal of Military History. 69(3): 651–90; Bryant, G (2004). ‘Asymmetrical Warfare: The British Experience in Eighteenth Century India’. The Journal of Military History. 68(2): 431–69; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 60; Hodgson, M (1974). The Venture of Islam. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). III: 149–51. 164 See the 1766 Treaty of Alliance and Friendship, 43 CTS 449. 165 See the 1769 Treaty of Perpetual Peace, Friendship and Alliance, 44 CTS 291. Also 44 CTS 387. 166 See Gillespie, A (2017). The Long Road to Sustainability. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 167 See the Treaty of Allegiance and Cession, as in 45 CTS 483. 168 See the articles of agreement between the Mahrattas and the East India Company, as in 47 CTS 99. 169 The 1782 Treaty of Alliance and Perpetual Friendship with the Marathas is in Chalmers, ibid, III: 518. See also, 48 CTS 61 and 48 CTS 203. See also, Hashmi, S (2001). ‘Political Perceptions in Early Anglo-Indian Relations’. Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations. 12(2): 211–32; Chatterjee, K (1998). ‘History as Self Representation’. Modern Asian Studies. 32(4): 913–48. 170 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 464–66. 171 The 1784 Treaty of Peace with Tipu Sultan is reprinted in Chalmers, G (ed.) A Collection of Treaties between Great Britain and Other Powers. (Stockdale, London). III: 512. Also, 49 CTS 7 and 49 CTS 25. For commentary, see Kulke, H (1996). A History of India. (Routledge, London) 235–37; Doyle, W (1992). The Old European Order, 1660–1800. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 61. 172 As noted in in Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 224. See also pp 221 and 230. 173 The Treaty of Offensive Alliance between Britain and the Mahrattas and Hyderabad, 51 CTS 1. Also, 50 CTS 381; 51

CTS 11, 16; 51 CTS 11. 174 The Treaty of Peace is at 51 CTS 295. 175 The Treaty of Commerce between Britain and Nepal is at 51 CTS 299. 176 See, for example, 51 CTS 463; 51 CTS 471; 52 CTS 33; 52 CTS 51; 52 CTS 179; 54 CTS 31; 54 CTS 217; 54 CTS 279. 177 Art 1 of the Treaty on the Settlement of TIpu’s Dominions, as in 54 CTS 479. 178 Black, J (2008). George III: America’s Last King. (Yale University Press, London). 334; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 501. 179 See the 1756 Friendship and commerce, Denmark and Ottomans. 40 CTS 373; and the 1761 Convention on Diplomatic relations with Prussia, as at 42 CTS 69. 180 Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London) 374–75; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 372, 374; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 352. 181 Goodwin, A (ed.) The New Cambridge Modern History: The American and French Revolutions. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge). VIII: 260. 182 Macdougall, P (2017). ‘An Analysis of the Battle of Cesme, 1770’. The Mariner’s Mirror. 103(3): 264–81; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 447. 183 The 1771 Peace of Constantinople, as reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 112. See also 45 CTS 45. 184 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina). 93; Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London) 375, 377, 382; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 379–81; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 357– 58; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 375, 393, 397. 185 Treaty of Kuch-Kainadrji. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 406. Also, 45 CTS 349. 186 Art 3 of the Treaty of Kuch-Kainadrji. 187 Ibid, art 7. 188 Ibid, art 8. 189 Ibid, art 16. 190 Ibid, art 18. 191 Ibid, art 11. 192 For the treaties, that of commerce, is reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 115, and that of cession, in the same volume at 116. 193 The 1782 Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Commerce between Spain and Turkey, in 48 CTS 123. 194 See the Russian and Turkish agreements in 1775, at 45 CTS 385 and 46 CTS 41. For 1776, see 46 CTS 217. 195 The 1779 Convention of Constantinople as reprinted in the Foreign Office, ibid, 480. Also, 47 CTS 103. 196 The note from Grigori Potemkin. This is reprinted in Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 268. Also, Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 407. 197 The Manifesto on the Annexation of the Crimea, 8 April 1783. This is reprinted in Verbadsky, C (ed.) A Sourcebook for Russian History from Early Times to 1917. (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1972). II: 412. 198 The Treaty of Commerce between Russia and Turkey, as in 48 CTS 333. 199 The Agreement between Austria and Turkey, 49 CTS 1. 200 The Treaty of Defensive Alliance between Austria and Russia is at 47 CTS 477. 201 See Joseph II and the Greek Project. This is in Macartney, C (ed.) The Habsburg and Hohenzollern Dynasties in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. (Harper, NYC). 192.

202 The Treaty between Georgia and Russia, as in 48 CTS 413. 203 The 1784 Treaty of Peace between Russia and the Ottoman Empire, as reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 508. Also, 49 CTS 11. 204 The 1784 Agreement between Austria and Turkey, as in 49 CTS 31. 205 The Treaty of Commerce between France and the Netherlands, 49 CTS 381. 206 The Treaty of Amity and Commerce with Denmark and Russia is at 48 CTS 183. 207 Rayfield, D (2012). Edge of Empires: A History of Georgia. (Reaktion, London). 252–57; Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 382; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 378; Moss, W (2005). A History of Russia. (Anthem, London). I: 282 Gershoy, L (1944). From Despotism to Revolution. (Harper, NYC). 189. 208 With regard to the cessation of hostilities between Denmark and Sweden, see 50 CTS 363 and 367. Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London) 506–7. 209 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 475–76; Mayer, M (2004). ‘Joseph II, the Russian Alliance and Ottoman War, 1787–1789’. The International History Review. 26(2): 257–99. 210 See the Renewal of the Alliance between Austria and Russia. 50 CTS 431. 211 The Treaty between Sweden and Turkey, as at 50 CTS 435. 212 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 94–95; Hochedlinger, M (2003). Austria’s Wars of Emergence. (Routledge, NYC). 385; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 409–10. 213 The Treaty of Peace between Sweden and Russia, as at 51 CTS 43. 214 The Treaty of Alliance between Turkey and Prussia is in 50 CTS 473. 215 See the 1790 Treaty of Alliance with Prussia, as reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 418. Finkel, C (2005). Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. (Basic, NYC). 385; Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London) 507. 216 Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 95; Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 477–478. 217 The 1790 Armistice,is in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 124. The Treaty of Peace is in the same volume, at 131. Also in 51 CTS 57. 218 See Mayer, M (2004). ‘Leopold II, the Russian Threat and the Peace of Sistova, 1790–1791’. The International History Review. 26(3): 473–514; Kinross, L (1977). The Ottoman Centuries: The Rise and Fall of the Turkish Empire. (Morrow, NYC). 411–13. 219 The 1792 Treaty of Peace Between Russia and the Ottomans, as reprinted in the Foreign Office (1855). Treaties Between Turkey and Foreign Powers. (Foreign Office, London). 510. Also, 51 CTS 279. Massie, R (2011). Catherine the Great. (Head, London). 515. 220 Rayfield, D (2012). Edge of Empires: A History of Georgia. (Reaktion, London). 252–57. 221 This quote is from the 1716 Articles of Peace and Commerce Between Britain and Algiers, as reprinted in Davenport, F (ed.) European Treaties Bearing on the History of the United States and its Dependencies. (Carnegie Institute, Washington, 1929). IV: 11. The 1701 treaty is at 22 CTS 485 and 1707 at 24 CTS 477. 222 For 1729 see 33 CTS 173; and 1751 39 CTS 179; 1762 42 CTS 159; 1765 43 CTS 183. 223 For 1716 see 30 CTS 1; 1751 is in 39 CTS 345; 1762 is at 42 CTS 171. 224 For 1716, see 29 CTS 493; 1751 is at 39 CTS 203, and 1762 42 CTS 181. 225 See 1720 30 CTS 225, 1721 31 CTS 281, 1728 33 CTS 79, 1750 is at 38 CTS 493, 1760 is 42 CTS 1, and 1783 is at 48 CTS 327. See also Brown, J (2008). ‘Anglo-Moroccan Relations and the Embassy of Ahmad Qardanash’. The Historical Journal. 51(3): 599–620. 226 In the year 1710 see 27 CTS 27, 1711 see 27 CTS 119, 1720 is at 31 CTS 161. 1728 is 33 CTS 101, and 1742 is 36 CTS 477 and 493. 1765 is at 43 CTS 169, 1768 is 44 CTS 163, 1770 is 44 CTS 398, and 1774 at 45 CTS 315.

227 1714 at 29 CTS 135; 1764 is 42 CTS 465; 1790 is 50 CTS 497; 1796 is 53 CTS 43. 228 For 1727, see 31 CTS 239, 1729 is 33 CTS 203; 1774 is 45 CTS 453, and 1784 is at 49 CTS 145. 229 For 1767 see 44 CTS 9. 230 For the United Provinces at Tripoli, see, from 1704 25 CTS 25, 1713 27 CTS 347 and 1728 33 CTS 107. For their relationship with Tunis, from 1704, 25 CTS 69, and 1713 at 28 CTS 359. With Algiers, from 1712 see 27 CTS 271 and 1726 32 CTS 347, 1731 33 CTS at 411, 1757 at 41 CTS 143, 1760 at 41 CTS 473. And with Morocco from 1777 at 39 CTS 469 and 1786 49 CTS 497. 231 With Tunis, see 1725 at 32 CTS 213, with Tripoli in 1726 32 CTS 255; with Algiers in 1727 at 32 CTS 373 and in 1748 at 38 CTS 262, and with Morocco, in 1783 at 48 CTS 299. 232 With the Swedish relations with Algiers in 1729 see 33 CTS 177. Tunis in 1736 at 34 CTS 455. Tripoli in 1758 at 41 CTS 225, and Morocco 42 CTS 397 in 1763. 233 For Denmark’s relationship with Algiers in 1746 see 38 CTS 27; Tunis in 1751 is at 39 CTS 355; Tripoli in 1752 is 39 CTS 383 and Morocco, also in 1753 is 40 CTS 91, and 1767 is at 44 CTS 23. 234 For the Two Sicilies and Tripoli in 1741, see 36 CTS 203. For Tuscany and Tunis, in 1748 see 38 CTS 407, for Tripoli in 1749 at 38 CTS 415, and Morocco in 1778, see 46 CTS 457. 235 The Treaty of Peace and Commerce between Tripoli and Portugal is in 54 CTS 449. 236 The Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Commerce with Algiers and the United States, as in 52 CTS 461. 237 The Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Commerce with Tripoli and the United States is in 53 CTS 231. 238 The Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Commerce with Tunis and the United States is in CTS, Suppl Vol 1, No 55. 239 The 1767 Peace Treaty with Morocco. This is reprinted in Hargreaves, W (ed.) Spain Under the Bourbons, 1700– 1833. (Macmillan, London, 1973). 144. Also, 44 CTS 23. For the 1799 update, see 54 CTS 411. 240 This quote is from art 1 of the 1786 treaty. This is in Hargreaves, ibid, at 169. Also, 1786 50 CTS 23. The figures are in Clodfelter, M (2017). Warfare and Armed Conflict: A Statistical Encyclopedia. (McFarland, North Carolina) 44, 75. See also Black, J (2004). ‘The Western Encounter with Islam’. Orbis 19–28. 241 See the Treaty of Navigation and Commerce, England and Egypt, 45 CTS 491. 242 The France and Commerce and Navigation, and Egypt is in 49 CTS 207. 243 Yaycioglu, A (2018). ‘Tradition, Science and Religion in the Age of Ottoman Reform’. Modern Asian Studies. 52(5): 1542–1603; Currie, J (2015). ‘Kadizadeli Ottoman Scholarship, Muhammad Ibn Abd Al-Wahhab and the Rise of the Saudi State’. Journal of Islamic Studies. 26(3): 265–88; Black, A (2011). The History of Islamic Political Thought. (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh). 256–57, 269, 272–75; Traboulsi, S (2002). ‘An Early Refutation of Muhammad Ibn Abd AlWahhab; Die Welt des Islams. 42(3): 373–415; Aksan, V (1993). ‘Ottoman Political Writing, 1768–1808’. International Journal of Middle East Studies. 25(1): 53–69; Cook, M (1992). ‘On the Origins of Wahhabism’. Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society. 2(2): 191–202; Hodgson, M (1974). The Venture of Islam. (Chicago University Press, Chicago). III: 140–44, 158– 61.

XIII China and its Neighbours 1.

Introduction

T

of this book overlaps with the formation of the Qing Empire of China. To eclipse one dynasty and replace it with another requires a vast amount of blood. This was the case in China, although the amount of blood that was spilt in internal conflicts dropped considerably as the seventeenth century ended and the regime became more peaceful, inclusive and galvanised against external enemies. The external focus saw the Qing, slowly, but increasingly, gain control over a number of areas. This was most evident with Taiwan where several Mongolian and Muslim tribes had their autonomy increasingly stripped away following military campaigns which became increasingly brutal. This pacification in the interior territories was possible as Russia and China learned how to cooperate and, from the late seventeenth century, divide up these areas between them. With regard to other external considerations, Korea was kept in a close vassal relationship. Tibet also became increasingly part of the Qing world. Japan was kept at arm’s length, while Siam, Burma and Vietnam all experienced Chinese intervention, but could not be folded into the Qing realm. The Europeans, who were actively trying to establish relationships with China (and every other powerful country in Asia) were increasingly placed under tight control, with their trade and their missionaries, heavily curtailed. Japan and Korea followed this same path, with the door for Europeans being almost shut. The exception was Siam and Vietnam, whose leaders, in need of the military help that Europeans could offer, opened their doors. HE BEGINNING PERIOD

2.

The Shunzhi Emperor

(a) The Conquest of China by the Qing The Jurchen tribes (with links to the Jin Dynasty),1 with their strong non-Chinese identity, had swept down from China’s north-east/Manchuria from the 1580s. Unified under the rule of Nurhaci by the mid-1620s, within a further 20 years, his son (Hong Taiji) had toppled the

Ming, which was being defeated by the more insidious threats of bankruptcy, epidemics (especially smallpox), lawlessness, inefficiency and lack of food. Conversely, the power of the Qing went from strength to strength due to their ability to call upon other semi-nomadic peoples and a less-exclusionary population base. In addition, their economic model provided better taxation and control over money supply. Finally, there were further improvements in their models of centralisation, their legal system (in terms of less conflict), administrative efficiencies, tackling of corruption, the provision of some education for the masses, enhanced food production and better distribution of food surplus.2 Hong Taiji’s son, Fulin, became the Shunzhi Emperor of the Qing dynasty on 8 October 1643, claiming the Mandate of Heaven. This was concluded after a Council of Princes and Ministers decided Fulin was the best-placed candidate. This claim to rule was greatly bolstered the next year when the last clear Ming ruler, the Chongzhen Emperor, committed suicide, once the enemy forces stormed Beijing. For the following 19 years, the war against the remaining Ming who refused to surrender was fierce, in which the Qing authorities preferred to err on the side of killing too many, rather than too few, especially if their new displays of social control were not adhered to. This was most obvious with the braiding of hair (with hair shaved to the middle of the skull, with the remaining pulled back around a circle of the scalp and braided as it grew) akin to traditional Manchu style. With this fashion, the Manchu ordered that those seeking to surrender, had to: [S]have their heads and submit … those who claim to submit but do not shave their heads … should be given a deadline for compliance, and rewarded accordingly [when done] … If they do not meet the deadline, it is clear that they are resisting and definitely should be punished … those who follow this order belong to our country3 … those who hesitate will be considered treasonous bandits and will be heavily penalised.4

Such rules of submission to what many Han Chinese considered ‘barbarian’ practices prompted a strong resistance in many parts of southern China. Although the Qing were later to remove this rule about hair due to the extreme social dissatisfaction with it, before that point, violent conflict could result. Of note, within the numerous battles in this period, the sack of Yangzhou in 1645 stands out: somewhere between 20,000 and 800,000 were killed in the aftermath, as both a price of war and a warning to others who refused to submit. Thereafter, Qing forces relentlessly pushed their remaining Ming enemies southward, relying on military victories and fragmentation of the opposition (due to defections). Nonetheless, despite their declining odds, each Qing step forward was bitterly contested and often repeatedly fought-over, such as with the Battle of Nanjing in early September, 1659, in which an unsuccessful attempt by anti-Qing forces to retake the city, left nearly 5,000 dead in the river.5 Despite such attempts to stem the tide, the Qing slowly gained control over the Chinese mainland. By the time that Emperor Shunzhi died in early 1661 (from smallpox), his forces had managed to destroy the last southern Ming forces. In 1662, the final claimant to the Ming throne (Zhu Youlang) was captured, after being turned over by the authorities in Burma who did not want to provide sanctuary to the one person who could bring the entire wrath of the Qing Empire down upon them. Soon after Zhu Youlang and hundreds of his officers were handed over to the Qing authorities, they were strangled to death.6

(b) A New Social Cohesion and External Drive The foremost goal of the Qing was to establish a new regime without the fractures that allowed the Ming to be defeated. Before this could be entrenched, pacification was the goal. This meant that China was divided between the various military orders from Manchuria. Some property redistribution (to the benefit of the Qing commanders, and their soldiers via military colonisation) went to the victors. However, this was not an absolute transfer, and many local, native and former-Ming-loyal authorities and landlords retained their possessions, if they proved to be loyal to the new regime.7 Once pacification was achieved, a social re-modelling occurred. This meant, on the one hand, that the Qing adopted the many of the Chinese methods of governance and legitimation for their rule, while, on the other hand, they sought to eliminate the factionalism and elitism that had made the Ming vulnerable. This was a particularly difficult challenge as China had long been aware of arguments dividing Han Chinese from ‘Barbarian’ foreigners. The problem was that now, the ‘Barbarians’ were (again) in charge. Accordingly, although the Qing created a steady stream of myths about the divinely blessed Manchu, they also had to undertake novel programmes to break down barriers within their new unified realm. These brought the best of the old patterns and new people, together. For example, the Qing ensured the civil service exams which aimed to find and reward excellence remained open, with the clear expectation that these elite, if successful, could be Chinese, Manchurian or other nonHan groups within the Qing realm. The Qing also progressively broke down (but did not eliminate) the social systems which saw some of ‘debased’ people excluded from the larger pool of ‘commoners’. This involved addressing the ‘half-human/half chattel’ groups (not only the people, but also the families) of, inter alia, prisoners of war, tattooed criminals, and female adulterers such people were not allowed to marry commoners and were excluded from many social privileges. Musicians and those who worked the land were amongst the first to be transferred from their debased placement to being free citizens.8 The Qing also allowed inter-marriage between the Han Chinese and those of Manchurian descent. In addition, although Manchu was originally the ‘national’ language of the regime, in time, it was used interchangeably with Han Chinese as the official languages for the Qing. The cumulative result of such actions was to meld together the Manchurian and Chinese cultures, while showing types of respect to important neighbours and their practices. It was, accordingly, a much more multinational and universal empire which was very different to the regimes it succeeded.9 The new regime was also welded together by a strong culture of propagated ideology and displays of political loyalty. Any sign of affection towards the former Ming dynasty was regarded as treason, for which both writers and their families could be put to death. While peace was highly prized within the realm, military power and the prestige and rewards it brought were equally prized. This meant that military power and associated values were crucial to the self-image of the Qing. Unlike with the Ming, the Qing sought to upgrade the importance of victory in war, not just the wider (Chinese) civilisational virtues. Social advancement, and access to the highest social positions, was linked to military achievement

and this was not based upon Manchurian or Han lineage. Accordingly, the Qing, with one foot in their Manchurian past, and one foot in their Chinese present, painted themselves as a new and united multi-ethnic and multi-cultural society, galvanised and publicised by objectives of excellence in both warfare and peace. For the purpose of the time period of this book, the exemplar of this thinking is the Qianlong Emperor’s record of the Ten Complete Military Victories, which he released in 1792 to celebrate his own reign.10 (c) Neighbours The Qing were focused outward. In 1647, the Shunzhi Emperor informed the countries around him: If the various nations in the Southern Seas and in the neighbourhood of Guangdong [the north shore of the South China Sea], for example Siam and Annam, will offer tribute to us and will sincerely submit to our civilisation and be our vassal states, the court will not shoot a single arrow towards them, but will treat them as graciously as we have treated Korea.11

The reference to Korea was important, as this was one of the most intimate foreign relationships that the Qing possessed. This was not surprising as the Manchu had descended upon this regime a few months after the founding of the Qing, in 1636, conquered it (and severed its relationship with the Ming) and then placed it at the core of the tributary relationship with the Qing, treating them as a ‘little brother’. Nonetheless, in the following years, the Qing kept a close eye on the Choson, as this regime had been very close to the Ming and represented a strategic risk. To negate this risk, in addition to strong border controls, the Choson were tied close to China; strong military (support) demands were placed upon them and they were obliged to provide troops to fight in some of the campaigns of the Qing, especially against the Russians.12 The other relationship of note, was with Tibet, of which the Qing maintained their patronage for the Dalai Lama. Accordingly, in 1651, the young Shunzhi Emperor, following a letter of acknowledgement, invited the Fifth Dalai Lama (Ngawang Lobsang Gyatso) to Beijing. Maintaining good relations there was important, as although the Shunzhi Emperor was a follower of Chan (Chinese) Buddhism, keeping on the good side of the Tibetans was of great strategic importance. Primarily, this was not because of a conviction of religious tolerance (although he did allow Christian priests to reside in Beijing), but because the Dalai Lama held strong influence over a number of Mongolian tribes and vice versa, as it was the Mongols that allowed him to rule a unified Tibet following their military intervention. Accordingly, for the Qing, the Dalai Lama, was important to the nascent Qing regime, to help reduce the risk of, running into conflict with various configurations of Mongol tribes.13

3.

The Kangxi Emperor

Shunzhi was succeeded by this third son, Xuanye, known as the Kangxi Emperor. Kangxi,

who ruled (from 1661) until 1722 was the longest-standing Emperor in Chinese history. Within the domestic realm, his goal was to pacify, harmonise and improve the quality of life, and better management of his citizens.14 Outside this domestic realm, his goal was to increase the area, reach and power of the Qing Empire. (a) Internal Enemies Despite such wisdom, many did not accept the rule of the Kangxi Emperor. His first conflict, that of the revolt of the three feudatories, was about a simple question. Were the territories which were handed out to his primer generals hereditary? The Kangxi Emperor answered this question in the negative. The revolt this answer triggered, which began in late December 1673, was led by three renown generals who had previously fought for the Qing. The conflict would not be concluded until early December 1681. The victory for the Emperor was due to being able to marshal the largest amount of forces (about 600,000 men), improved weaponry (in terms of quality and quantity of firearms), and the Han Chinese who were subject to the rebellious Qing generals, not feeling inclined to fight for their new landlords.15 (b) Taiwan The second great military engagement of note, which overlapped with the first, began with the great maritime hero Koxinga/Zheng Chenggong who, from 1655, fought the Manchus in defence of the Ming dynasty. By holding two islands off the mainland, Koxinga was able to assemble hundreds of ships, and reputedly hundreds of thousands of men and sailors, which he used to keep up a steady stream of high-impact attacks on the Qing coastline, forcing much of it to become depopulated. He thus became master, both commercially and militarily, of the South China Sea. On 1 February 1662, he achieved his most celebrated victory, when some tens of thousands of his men landed in some 900 ships and then forced some 1,200 Dutch soldiers (and an unknown number of civilians) to abandon their main base, Castle Zeelandia at Anping on the coast of Formosa (later known as Taiwan). The deal was that in exchange for an end to all hostilities, and a safe, orderly and honorable exit, that: Castle Zeelandia [the main Dutch fort on Taiwan] with its outworks, artillery, remaining war material, merchandise, money, and other properties belonging to the Honourable Company, to be surrendered to Lord Koxinga.16

This ejection of European colonists was a remarkable achievement in itself. Whether this was a good action or bad, depends on who is telling the story (and paradigms of political identity, and loyalties towards the Dutch, the Chinese Ming or the Taiwanese aboriginal community). As it was, the Dutch offered the Qing a military alliance to, together, recapture Formosa (to which they would achieve expanded trading privileges in exchange). Although the Kangxi Emperor was receptive to this, the various Dutch fleets that appeared over the following years either failed to catch the enemy or disappeared without trace, to which the Dutch lost

their trading privileges in 1666 (although these were returned 20 years later) with the Qing.17 In the end, it was the Qing, not the Dutch, who forced Koxinga/Zheng to release his grip on Taiwan. This was finally achieved in July of 1683, with the naval battle at Penghu (in the Taiwan Strait) costing some 5,000 Qing soldiers and sailors and 12,000 of Koxinga’s. The carnage was said to be so bad, that ‘bodies covered the surface of the sea’.18 Although initially the Qing thinking was that Taiwan was outside the realm of China (and therefore of minimal interest), the Emperor changed his mind and incorporated Taiwan as he feared that if he left it unoccupied it could lead to the return of the Dutch, or as the memorial of the period recorded: Although the red-haired barbarians [the Dutch] consolidated the natives … [and] … developed it into an overseas kingdom, [they] began to disturb our frontier … although they originally invaded the island the red-haired barbarians may not be very eager to regain it until they find a convenient opportunity. If they do repossess it, it would be dangerous to us … as long as they do not regain a foothold, we shall be undisturbed.19

This thinking ensured that Formosa, soon to become Taiwan, was firmly annexed into the Qing possessions.20 (c) Japan It was in this context that China and Japan almost ended up in military conflict. Although the Japanese had restricted western trade, they had not acted in a consistent manner with other (Asian) trading partners in the region. The specific problem was that the 2,000 or so Chinese traders who were allowed to reside in Nagasaki, mostly had links to the former Ming Dynasty. This was even more complicated was Koxinga (their de facto leader who also now held Taiwan), was not only close to the Ming history, but he also had strong Japanese lineage.21 Attracted to the strong trade and political benefits with both Taiwan (and potentially China if the Ming were restored) via a half-Japanese brilliant military leader, the Tokugawa shogunate turned a blind eye as trade, including significant numbers of Japanese mercenaries and weapons, flowed to Koxinga. Although the Japanese had decided not to enter into any formal involvement when the depth of their informal support for Koxinga became apparent (risking war with the Qing), they were quick, (in an attempt to placate Beijing), to arrest and banish the Chinese who may have been sympathetic to fighting against the Qing. Learning from the experience, they then began to withdraw from active involvement in overseas adventures. Henceforth, although the relationship with China was not antagonistic (the Qing allowed shipwrecked Japanese sailors to be returned), trade with China now tended to be through intermediaries, such as the Dutch.22 (d) Russia The third great challenge for the Kangxi Emperor, and his successor, was what to do about

Central Eurasia. This area contained two great powers: Russia and the Mongols. The point where everything connected was around the Amur River, which divided the Russian far east (known as Outer Manchuria) and the Chinese north-east (known as Inner Manchuria). By the middle of the seventeenth century, Russian adventurers with mobile forces were working along the relatively lawless Amur River began to extract tribute and vassalage from local populations, while also seeking trade opportunities. These actions were being opposed by Manchu, and later Qing (and supplementary Choson/Korean forces) with clashes recorded along the northern frontier from 1652, involving forces in the low hundreds, mauling each other. This pattern repeated itself during the following two decades.23 The attention the Qing could dedicate to these was always determined by how much they were distracted by destroying the Ming or dealing with their own civil wars. It was in these periods of distraction that the Russians would advance and secure the vassalage and loyalty of some of the border tribes, while also founding their first settlement on the Amur River, Albazin. The tribes stuck between Russia and China were of particular concern, as their loyalties could swing. Matters came to a head in the 1680s when some high-level Qing officials (including Gantimur) swapped to the Russian side, and the Russians refused to return them, especially after they converted to Christianity. The Russians maintained this position despite official Qing demands that they stop crossing the border, marauding the area, and giving sanctuary to fugitives fleeing the power of the Qing Emperor.24 Serious conflict broke out in 1685 when some 3,000 Ming took Albazin from 800 Russian defenders (after a three-day siege). Despite this success, the Chinese then withdrew from the area. They then offered the Russians peace terms, along the lines of those that been sketched out previously of a solid border, non-harboring of fugitives and maybe trade. The Russians replied by re-taking Albazin the following year. The second time the Qing besieged Albazin, the defence lasted from July until November 1686 and was only lifted when the Emperor and the Tsar agreed to peace talks.25 The peace that followed was monumental, as this was not only the first treaty between Russia and China, it was also the first treaty between China and a western country, in which the two sides agreed to be, ‘permanent friends’.26 The Treaty of Nerchinsk27 fixed the border between the Tsar and the Emperor, via the use of flowing water. Thus: Let the Kerbechi River … serve as the natural demarcation line … and also let the Hsing-an Mountains … also serve as a natural bounary. South of the Hsing-an Mountains, … belongs to China; north of the mountains … belongs to Russia.28

The Russian fortified town of Albazin was to be, ‘completely demolished, and the people residing there, with all military and other stores and equipment, are to be moved into Russian territory’.29 Fugitives who had already crossed the border were able to remain where they were (ie, Gantimur would not be returned), ‘but those who may take refuge in either country after the date of this Treaty … are to be sent without delay to the frontier and at once handed over to the chief local officials’.30 Bilateral commerce by officially accredited people was facilitated,31 and all previous disagreements between them (and their subjects), forgotten.32 If the citizens of either country caused harm in the territory of the other, they were to be

arrested, returned, and executed by their home country, after the respective authorities had looked into the matter and found an amicable solution. This harshness was necessary, as ‘crimes and excesses committed by private people on the frontier must not be made the cause of war and bloodshed by either side’.33 (e) The Dzungar and Tibet Arguably, the largest – unwritten – achievement of the Treaty of Nerchinsk was that it divided everything between Beijing and Moscow into either one camp or the other. There were no more intermediate areas which refugees, deserters or migratory tribespeople could inhabit. In theory, the Kangxi Emperor had hoped to govern his side of the border with Russia by the various tribes which pledged loyalty to Beijing. However, one group, the Dzungars (occupying, roughly, the part of China above Tibet/eastern Turkestan) challenged this assumption. As the soft cohesion with the Mongolian tribes in the eastern sector fragmented, a new leader, Galdan, emerged and sought to expand his power by deeper raids into the other Mongolian areas. Galdan also entered into exploratory discussions with the Russians about making an alliance against the Qing. The Qing authorities steered the Russians away from entertaining this idea. They warned the Russians, ‘if your country cooperates with him, there will be a violation of both the faith and the oath of the treaty, which will lead to war’.34 Initially, the Kangxi Emperor hoped that the Dalai Lama (with whom he maintained close relationships, in accordance with Qing ideology) could reign Galden in, but when this proved impossible, the Emperor decided that the Mongolian had to be destroyed. The two sides had their biggest clash at Jaomodo (central Mongolia today) on 12 June 1696, when Galdan’s 20,000 were surrounded, mauled and then chased by three Qing armies of 35,000 each, with at least 5,000 of the Dzungars killed or captured. Those who escaped, including Galdan, were then relentlessly pursued (including blocking escape routes and getting his potential allies to close doors). Although the Kangxi Emperor was denied the pleasure of defeating Galdan in battle (he died of natural causes in early April 1697), he did succeed in getting Galdan’s mortal remains handed over to him. Then, towards the end of 1698, high-level Manchus, Mongols and Chinese were assembled to witness the crushing of what bones remained of Galdan, and witness his ashes being scattered into the wind.35 Tsewang Rabdan, the nephew of Galdan, took undisputed control of the Dzungars upon the death of his uncle. For the following 20 years, he manoeuvred his people between the Russians and the Chinese, stubbornly refusing to pledge allegiance to either of them. His focus on these early decades (towards 1717) was towards the Russians and stopping their incessant pushing (driven by the mistaken allure of gold deposits) deeper into eastern Siberia and along the Irtysh river. While Rabdan would fight each additional step and outpost, he was careful not to trigger an overall war against his people, with peace, conflict, truce and breach, being a common cycle with Tsar Peter I. Increasingly, however, as it became clear Russia, was on the verge of being a new superpower, Rabdan learned to live with the Russian intrusions, and hoped (by 1718) for a Russian alliance against the Qing.36

Tsewang Rabdan needed an alliance with the Russians, as the year before, he had triggered a significant conflict with the Qing. This had occurred because 6,000 of his Dzungar troops had occupied Tibet and imposed upon the Chinese-installed Dalai Lama. The roots of this 1717 intervention had started nearly 25 years earlier, following the death of the Fifth Dalai Lama in 1682, when his successor, the Sixth Dalai Lama (Tsangyang Gyatso), who was a favourite of the Dzungars, was placed into power in Lhasa. When an attempt to oust him (due to his worldly pursuits) resulted in the Kangxi Emperor listening sympathetically to the plotters, and inviting the Sixth to Beijing to consider matters, Tsangyang Gyatso died en route in November 1706.37 In the power-struggle that followed, the 12-year-old Kelzang Gyatso was, with the support of the Kangxi Emperor, placed in power as the Seventh Dalai Lama in 1715. It was this Dalai Lama that the Dzungars imprisoned. They then placed their own favourite in power and tried to ensure his tenure via a brutal suppression of the local population. This act of toppling the Seventh Dalai Lama, combined with their occupation of large parts of Tibet, resulted in Emperor Kangxi sending Qing forces into the occupied parts of the territory to eject the Dzungars (with the latter strategically withdrawing, rather than risking a full-scale battle) and placing his favourite, Kelzang Gyatso, back into power. The price of guaranteeing this line of the Dalai Lama was the effective annexation of key parts of the Tibetan area into the Qing realm. This made it a type of special area, in that although they did not pay tribute or tax to Beijing, the Emperor now took a direct interest in the internal matters of Tibet, and in exchange for loyalty from its rulers, was prepared to guarantee it from external threats. The obligation, therefore, was a further intervention into Tibet in 1720 to prevent Dzungar chieftans from consolidating too much political position in the region.38

4.

The Yongzheng Emperor

The Yongzheng Emperor was one of the sons of the Kangxi Emperor. He ruled for only thirteen years, between 1722 and 1735. His objective was twofold. First, he was determined that internal dissent was kept to a minimum. This was important as there were always question marks about whether he (as the fourth of fifteen sons of the Kangxi Emperor) was, or was not, the intended successor, or whether he had obtained ultimate power by forgery. Second, he wanted to deepen the Qing mission to reduce social stratification and cultural differentiation within the empire. He continued to bring in ‘debased’ groups (such as those who fish) into the pool of normal and free citizens. He also directly argued against Chinese Han scholars who suggested that their ethnic origins were superior to the Manchus and tried to build a relatively homogenous population of subjects, at the feet of an absolutist throne.39 In terms of foreign affairs, his goal was consolidation, rather than expansion. Accordingly, although he maintained Qing forces in Tibet, he did not expand them. Although there were further clashes with the Dzungars (in 1723, over support for a potential alternative for the Dalai Lama and further disturbances on the Tibetan plateau), there was no definitive clash or peace. In part, that was because, the focus of the Yongzheng Emperor was upon a further treaty with Russia in 1727 through which he could fully tighten the pincers around

Dzungars. The 1727 Treaty of Kiakhta/Kyakhta (as in, the town on the same named river, which still forms the northern border with Mongolia) was designed to clarify and settle the borderline of 1686, which had only gone a certain distance and had not mapped out the more difficult, interior, lines of the region. By 1727, those lines had, jointly, been worked out. This fact, and the resultant emphasis on peace and cooperation between the two nations was then recorded in the 1727 agreement. The treaty then underlined the 1686 obligations about the exchange of fugitives of the other and set down the new delineated borders. The core understanding was, After the delimitation [both the Chinese and the Russians] are forbidden to live together or to harbor fugitives and robbers.40

Russia was then given two large advantages. First, their commercial trading opportunities were expanded (beyond that which existed for other European powers) with continual exchange at designated border posts being possible. Second, they were allowed to establish Orthodox religious institutions in Beijing. Two years later in 1729, the first Chinese ambassador was sent to Russia. Once the relationship with Russia had been regalvanised, the Yongzheng Emperor then turned his attention back towards the Dzungars. He did this by demanding that they had no more relations with Tibet and they hand over some fugitive leaders involved in the recent power struggles in that area. These were impossible demands for the Dzungars (who were now led by Galdan Tsereng, the son of Tsewang Rabdan who had died in 1727). The Yongzheng Emperor then declared war on them in 1729, vowing to destroy them. This was easier said than done. The two sides collided fully in 1731, deep in Mongolia. Although there was no clear victor, the Qing (after losing 18,000 out of 20,000 men in one engagement near Khobdo) retreated from the area, fearing they were going to lose any control over Mongolia. It was only when a power struggle broke out in 1732 with a rival Mongol group that the situation stabilised, and the Qing and the Zungars started to reach for peace. This peace (which set down a border and rules for trade) was not concluded until 1739, when the Qianlong Emperor was in power.41

5.

The Qianlong Emperor

The Qianlong Emperor of China ruled that realm from 1735 until 1796. He was the Asian equivalent of Louis XIV of France. He was different to his Qing predecessors of the Shunzhi, Kangxi and Yongzheng Emperors in two ways. First, his history was written as him being more willing to go to war than any of his predecessors. Second, the Qianlong Emperor did not leave the same record of attempts to improve social equity and integration of his realm. Rather, his is a record of tax benefits for the wealthy, the abandonment of mass education, and movement away from the goals of his predecessors of reducing social stratification on both ethnic and social terms. The Qianlong Emperor even went so far in 1771 as to modify this father’s edict of 1729 granting certain formerly stigmatised (‘debased’) groups the right to sit imperial exams. They were henceforth applicable only after these groups had been

property-owning taxpayers – for four generations.42 (a) Solidifying the Realm: The Dzungar, Jinchuan and Xinjiang Campaigns Within 15 years of coming to power, the Qianlong Emperor was pushing armies into multiple areas, broadly within the Chinese sphere of influence, to solidify his rule. The starting point was in 1745 and conflict with the same group, the Dzungars, which had caused so much challenge for his predecessors. This was somewhat unexpected, as in 1739, after years of negotiation, a peace treaty had been agreed between the two sides. This saw the establishment of a firm boundary, the conditions for border trade, the location of Qing guardposts, and the size of embassies that would be permitted to travel to Beijing and Tibet.43 The opportunity for the Qianlong Emperor to reconfigure his relationship with the Dzungar arose when a leadership struggle and internecine conflict among the Dzungars, occurred when Tsewang Dorji Namjal, the son of Galdan Tsereng (who had recently died) assumed power. However, he was then seized and blinded by his older brother (Lama Dorji), who, in turn, assumed power. This act was objected to by Dawachi (who was of high aristocratic birth) who was then joined by Amursana (the grandson of Tsewang Rabtan) and they were given support by the Russians. Once they killed Lama Dorji, Dawachi took power. Amursana objected and started to wage war against him. It was at this point that the Qianlong emperor decided, in 1754, to refuse to support Dawachi (who requested Qing support, but was declined for being a disloyal barbarian). Rather, he backed Amursana with 50,000 troops who were armed and proficient with the new musket technology, seeing an opportunity to install a Dzungar leader, fully beholden to the Qing. The victory over Dawachi followed quickly after Dawachi’s surrender was received with mercy and he was allowed to live in comfort and honour, as a prisoner, in Beijing.44 This situation did not lead to peace because when Amursana was inserted as Khan, he asserted his own independence, demanding to be leader of all the Western Mongols (as Dawachi had been), rather than leader of one of the fragments, which Beijing wanted to keep alienated. This assertion of independence led to a second campaign against the Dzungar, which was concluded relatively quickly. Although the Qing gained full control over the area, the prey, Amursana escaped the grasp of the Qianlong Emperor and fled to Russia in early 1757, where he died soon after. The Chinese authorities demanded the return of his corpse from Russia, and the Russians complied.45 The people of Amursana were then destroyed by a smallpox epidemic followed by extremely ruthless orders by the Emperor who told his commanders to be very sceptical of those wishing to surrender, and ‘show no mercy at all to these rebels. Only the old and the weak should be saved. Our previous military campaigns were too lenient’.46 Between the smallpox, the military actions, the reprisals (especially against all young and able bodied men), the withholding of food (with the Emperor noting it would be, ‘easier to exterminate rebels because they had run out of provisions’),47 and, finally, those perishing while trying to escape to Russia, perhaps some 600,000 people died. Even the name ‘Dzungar’ was

obliterated in 1758, when Qianlong prohibited its further use, insisting that the names of the individual tribes be used instead.48 During an overlapping period, the Jinchuan campaigns, between 1747 to 1749 in southwest China, also occurred. This area was controlled by hereditary chiefs with only nominal loyalty to the Qing. These non-Han people were engaged in constant internecine warfare. The first attempts at control over this area were defeated in 1747, and it was only brought under control in 1748 when 200,000 Qing soldiers established full authority over the area. The peace would last for two decades. When a further uprising occurred in 1771, when yet another chieftan in western Sichuan began to dominate his fellow tribes, the Qing, again, stepped in. When in conjunction with some allied local (Muslim) tribes (who could see more security and benefits in fighting for, not against, the Qing), first attempted this in 1773, their force of 16,000 men was decimated. The Emperor then directed a further 200,000 men to secure the area. The dissident tribesmen were finally defeated by 1776, with their leader captured, brought to Beijing, and executed.49 The third, and similar, campaign was against the Turkic Muslim Khojas went from 1757 to 1759. The hope of Beijing was that the leader of this group, in the wake of the Dzungar collapse, would now accept the Emperor Qianlong as their overlord, while retaining local control and dynastic rights for themselves. Their answer to this proposal was to first ignore, and then murder, Manchu officers who came to the region. These actions triggered another full-scale expedition of the Qing military. The result saw the Chinese military logistical support system stretched all the way into the steppe, knocking out the enemy fortified areas, as occupied by Turkic, Uighur and other Muslim peoples one by one. Although there was some internal criticism over why these actions were done, being seen by some as unnecessary and unprofitable, in 1768 the area (which continued to witness small uprisings) was formally annexed under the name Xinjiang (New Dominion).50 The above campaigns often caused disorder along the border separating Russia and China, as the forces of China on one side of the border, or Russia on the other, propelled groups and/or their vassals or feudal enemies (sometimes in caravans involving tens of thousands of people) to escape over, or collide into, the line that divided the two empires. To ensure that these conclusions were all cemented correctly into place, and there would be no spill-over with the Russian border, there were successive meetings between the opposing countries. Peace was reiterated via two further agreements (in 1768 and 1792) which were added to the original 1687 and 1727 treaties. The goal, in the words of the 1768 deal was: [T]he two countries should restore the old relationship of amity and friendship, that mutual trade should be conducted according to former regulation … [and both will not] … deceive or delay the settlement of frontier affairs …. Fugitives and robbers crossing our respective borders should be quickly hunted down and returned or punished.51

Following further disruptions in the 1770s and 1780s, another protocol was added to the existing arrangements. This was more detailed than in the past, requiring both signatories to ensure their merchants respected the sanctity of contracts the importance of prosecuting thieves and a better standard of border officers. This last treaty, unlike the three before it seeking to deal with fugitives and refugees who kept crossing the border and often lawlessness in the shared area, was different in the way it addressed specific issues that had

again unhinged the bilateral relationship between China and Russia.52 The final campaign to note within the areas that were meant to be under the authority of the Qing involved Taiwan in 1787–1788. Here, nearly 100,000 men had to be landed to (successfully) restore order, after complicated feuding, secret societies and challenges to Qing authority all overlapped.53 (b) Myanmar/Burma In addition to the above campaigns, the Qianlong Emperor also sought to extend the power, influence and reach of his Empire in areas which were less clearly within the traditional Qing orbit of power. These actions resulted in conflicts in Burma, Tibet and Vietnam. The Qing Myanmar/Burma campaign between 1765 and 1770 was such a military disaster for the Qianlong Emperor that it was edited from the official histories. Unofficially, the goal was probably to turn Burma into a tributary state to Qing China. Officially, this war was triggered by reports of the death of Chinese merchants (in Myanmar) in brawls and justice not being delivered. Additional concerns covered border and trade intrigues, which were supplemented by the tightening Qing control over the bordering Yunnan region. The Chinese decision to invade was also fogged by their very poor intelligence of the dynastic struggles in Myanmar/Burma (in both the north and centre of the country) as well as how these conflicts spilled over into conflict with Siam (with which there were bilateral conflicts in 1765 to 1769, 1775 to 1776, and 1782 to 1792, with each one taking tens of thousands of deaths). The result was that Qing Emperor decided to attack a new regime at the wrong time. This mistake was because the country was now led by the brilliant Hsinbyushin, who was creating a unified country (and erasing the petty principalities that existed until recent times), which was seeking to expand (not settle) his borders, successfully taking bites out of Siam. In turn, Siam would return to take bites out of Myanmar, when they were deeply distracted by the Chinese invasion.54 The Qianlong Emperor authorised the first force of some 6,000 or so soldiers to advance into Burma, to take the capital of Ava in December 1765. This was quickly defeated. A second expedition in mid-1766, saw only a few dozen return alive. A third invasion of over 50,000 men was the most successful, finding military victory at Goteik Gorge in late December 1767, before three-fifths of this force pushed towards the capital. This push was a disaster, as the Chinese forces became overstretched, were surrounded, and decimated (with perhaps 28,000 of the 30,000 Qing soldiers being killed either by enemy weapons or disease). In April 1769, a fourth army of 60,000 was again sent to invade, but after losing 20,000 men over fiercely contested ground, they opted for a truce. The peace terms that allowed the remaining Qing forces to peacefully exit Burma, came on 13 December 1769. The agreement aimed at, ‘peace and friendship being established between the two great countries, they shall become one, like two pieces of gold united into one’,55 reverting to their previous customs and goodwill towards each other. In terms of specifics, the deal involved China returning all Burmese dissidents and

citizens it had given refuge to; the Chinese respecting Burmese territory (and their traditional holdings); an exchange of prisoners of war; and the resumption of friendly diplomatic relations. As it was, the leaders of both sides either disavowed, disagreed with, or interpreted differently, the terms they had signed. Accordingly, what followed was more of a heavily armed truce, with limited interaction, than a friendly peace.56 (c) Tibet Of all the Qing Emperors, Qianlong showed the most personal interest in Tibetan Buddhism and was the most generous in his patronage. He invited the Panchen Lama (a religious and secular leader of Tibet, closely connected to the Dalai Lama) to visit him. The Panchen Lama accepted this invitation but contracted smallpox and died while in Beijing in 1780. Qianlong attempted to make amends for this death by the lavish provision of presents. When these were taken back to Tibet they were the subject of dispute by Shamar (one of the brothers of the dead Panchen Lama) who wanted what he believed was his share. When his demands were rebuffed, Shamar fled to Nepal, which at this point, had just fallen under the rule of the powerful Gurkhas, and threw himself upon the mercy of their court. Over the following years, anger between Nepal and Tibet grew, not only because of their sanctuary of Shamar, but also over matters involving the minting (and purity) of coins used in Tibet (which were made in Nepal) and the quantity of salt traded between the two. When Shamar promised loyalty to the Nepalese authorities (and not the authorities in Tibet or China) they felt that they had sufficient cause to invade, and a puppet to direct any parts of Tibet that could be conquered. Initially, the Qianlong emperor hoped that the authorities from Nepal and Tibet could negotiate a peace. However, the original deal that the Tibetans agreed to, (involving having to give an annual tribute) was poor, and they quickly tried to renegotiate. When this renegotiation was attempted, the Nepalese attacked and imposed a brutal occupation over what parts of Tibet they could take and hold. However, a combination of extended supply lines, disease, Tibetan resistance (with 10,000 men) and the arrival of 17,000 men from Qing China turned the tide, and forced the Gurkhas back to Nepal by the spring of 1792. Shamar, who had died a natural death during the conflict, was dealt with by the Tibetans taking all the ancestoral and religious heirlooms (and status and theological rights) from his family and burying them beneath his family monastery. That monastery was then converted into a courthouse, so that people (in an act of great disrespect) would walk over them every day.57 To help prevent such events in the future, the Qianlong Emperor, through his generals and troops sitting in Tibet, negotiated a new set of regulations. The resultant Ordinance for the More Efficient Governing of Tibet contained 29 articles. The most important of these introduced the Golden Urn system. This entailed candidates for the Dalai Lama (in the future) to be selected through a random and secret method, to prevent concentrations and manipulations of power within various families. All senior religious authorities were also to be registered.58

6.

Europeans

The final section to consider in this chapter is the place of Europeans in Asia between 1650 and 1800. As a rule, the technological developments that had evolved in Europe between the Renaissance until the Enlightenment were very attractive to most of the ruling powers in Asia. The European developments in astronomy, cartography, mathematics, science and technology (especially military) changed the path of entire countries. Many rulers throughout Asia, could see their advantage. The Qing were adopting western methods of astronomy and the western calendar as early as 1644. The problem was that to obtain such new tools, the Europeans all wanted two things: they wanted to trade and they often wanted to preach. In some instances, the Europeans were willing to make partisan deals with discontented locals to get what they wanted. To many, such actions quickly watered down the attraction of their science and technology. (a) Japan The first country in the region which cast a jaundice eye towards European intervention was Japan. Japan had been turning inwards since the late sixteenth century. This was most evident regarding their desire to stop undue western influence, to which the first anti-Christian pronouncements were made, restricting the freedom of visiting priests. When the Spanish were found not to have played by the rules, they were expelled in 1624. By the early 1630s, the Japanese focus had sharpened even more on internal security rather than profit from external trade and interactions. This was driven in part by the goal of creating a unifying ideology within Japan (without outside religious interference) and the need to stop any resurrections against conventional authority. In furtherance of this thinking, in 1635, the Sakoku Edict proclaimed, ‘No Japanese is permitted to go abroad’.59 If they did, the death penalty was the price. Christianity (which was understood as primarily Catholicism) was strictly controlled, by which there was to be no more missionary activity in Japan, and those who had already converted were to be carefully watched. Trade, also, was to be tightened even further.60 Following the Shimarara revolt from the end of 1637 until the middle of April 1638 (when the Christian prohibitions really began to bite), an alliance of local converts rebelled against the Tokugawa Shogun. This was put down by Japanese troops, who were supported by (Protestant) Dutch naval support. After the rebellion, maybe 37,000 rebels were massacred, including thousands of Japanese Christians. The (Catholic) Portuguese (who had supported the rebels) were expelled and all other Europeans (except the Dutch) were restricted from future entry. Despite their assistance, even the Dutch found their trade relationship with Japan tightly restricted. The Shogun explained: His Majesty [the shogun] charges us to inform you that it is of slight importance to the empire of Japan whether foreigners come or do not come to trade; but in consideration of the charter granted to them [earlier, the shogun] is pleased to allow the Hollanders to continue their operations, and to leave them their commercial and other privileges, on

the condition that they [abandon their earlier port] and establish themselves and their vessels in the port of Nagasaki.61

Although this allowed the Dutch to continue to trade in this particular place, all vestiges of their Christianity had to be removed. This requirement went all the way to having to work on Sundays.62 (b) Siam The Japanese were not the only country in this part of the world to adopt a restrictive approach to European integration. A very similar approach, a few decades later, also occurred with Siam. In particular, although Siam (Thailand)/the Ayutthaya Kingdom, had experienced European explorers from the early 1500s, as the Portuguese influence waned, the Dutch (who had just been kicked out of Taiwan), via their Dutch Company trading organisation, began to rise. Via blockading the main waterways to the Siam capital, for the price of peace, the Dutch forced a treaty of trade in 1664. In exchange for a ‘true, permanent, firm and sincere friendship’63 between the King of Siam and the Dutch Company, the Dutch received, ‘perfect freedom to carry on trade in Siam …’64 Minimal taxation was to be applied, and the Dutch merchants, were to receive large degrees of protections and immunities while present in Siam. This deal, which was disliked by the people of Siam, helped propel them towards a new one with France just over 20 years later. This was aided by a much greater respect, and exchange of embassies, between the two countries. The treaty that followed on 11 December 1687 granted the French King Louis XIV a specific piece of land upon which to build facilities for trading. There were to be no import or export duties, and trade in many areas (except firearms and gunpowder, and hides, which were the preserve of the Dutch) was wide. Considerably large liberties (and protections) were also granted to the French resident in Siam.65 When a nationalist-based revolution occurred in Siam in 1688 (with the help of the Dutch), the French initially tried to help the deposed King, but this failed, resulting in some 200 French soldiers finding themselves besieged in Bangkok by an estimated 40,000 opposition. Although they could not be stormed, neither could they be defeated. At the end of a four-month siege, a negotiated exit was achieved in the middle of November 1688. With this end, Siam became very suspicious of western intervention in their country. Only a few French missionaries remained and most trade with the Europeans ended. Only small amounts of limited trade was permitted to keep going, and this was primarily with the Dutch. (c) China With China, trade with foreigners had been controlled since the end of the fourteenth century. This had expanded, slightly, by the Ming allowing the Portuguese to occupy the Macau peninsular in southern Guangdong, and then the Fujianese port of Yuegang and establish it as

a center of private and tightly supervised trade. The Dutch also set down roots on Formosa (Taiwan) from 1624, and eventually obtained permission to also land and trade (periodically) at specific ports on mainland China from 1656. However, as noted above, this right was subsequently lost and they were exited from Formosa in 1662.66 For the part of the period in which the Qing were slowly gaining the upper hand over the Ming, commercial exchanges with foreigners were greatly hampered by the power the Koxinga (and his occupation of Taiwan) had over the South China Sea, and Qing mandates ordering the depopulation and strict control over most coastal areas. This meant, for example, that from 1647, Chinese merchants could only trade with the Portuguese at one particular port, under strict rules of where the foreigners could stay, could go, and for how long.67 A year after regaining Taiwan from Koxinga, the Kangxi Emperor, who had a great love of western technology and science, turned centuries of practice on trade with foreigners upside down. In 1684, he dramatically proclaimed the opening of all coastal ports to private (albeit licensed and strictly regulated) maritime trade and established a network of customs stations to collect taxes. Within a few years, well over 1,000 Chinese merchant vessels were working and trading with China’s immediate neighbours, while Europeans ventured from further afield, seeking to benefit from the new, and liberal, trade policy. Although this was an overall policy, it was the station at Canton (from which the name ‘Canton System’ emerged) which was the most active.68 While the Yongzheng Emperor allowed this system to continue, the Qianlong Emperor increasingly restricted it. He did this in two steps. First, (in 1757) making Canton the sole port for western trade. Second (in 1760) he set down a timetable which contained the only periods that westerners could trade, who, when, how much, and what (with silk being strictly controlled), as well as where they had to reside, and which Chinese merchants they could trade with when visiting.69 While some western countries tried to squeeze into the existing market (with the first ship from the United States arriving in 1784), others sought to gain market advantages and privileges over others.70 It was in this climate in 1792 that the British King George III, requested special diplomatic and trading privileges with China (having had ship visits since 1675), was rebuffed. In so doing, the Qianlong Emperor explained in 1793 (after an awkward British delegation would not kowtow to the Emperor) that he could not grant them diplomatic recognition, as he doubted they could adjust to Chinese practices. He also added although he would grant the British warehousing at Canton, he would not go beyond the existing system, as the British could not be privileged against others, as ‘England is not the only barbarian land which wishes to establish relations with our civilisation and trade with our Empire’.71 The Emperor then added two further points. First, he would not permit the propagation of the (Anglican) religion in this area, and second he wanted them to know that: Our dynasty’s majestic virtue has penetrated unto every country under Heaven, and Kings of nations have offered costly tribute by land and sea … we possess all things. I see no value in objects strange and ingenious, and have no use for your country’s manufactures.72

Of the non-merchant foreigners, the first Catholic Jesuits (who often brought the best

technology and knowledge with them) had been granted permission to reside in Beijing from the early 1600s. However, by the 1650s, a few Jesuit missionaries were appearing in other coastal cities. The tolerance towards these Europeans was strong with the Shunzhi Emperor, but reserved with the Kangxi. Nonetheless, in 1692 the Kangxi promulgated his decree in their favour. This stated: We have seriously considered this question of the Europeans … They do not excite disturbances in the provinces, they do no harm to anyone … and their doctrine has nothing in common with that of the false sects of the Empire, nor has it any tendency to excite sedition … as we do not hinder the [Tibetans] from building temples … much less can we forbid these Europeans, who teach only good laws, from having also their churches and preaching their religion publicly in them.73

This tolerance towards them rescinded when three events occurred. First, there were provocative debates on doctrine (when the Pope condemned the traditional Chinese and Manchu ancestral rites as blasphemous). Second, there were inter-Christian theological squabbles and jealousies (as the Jesuits had a preferred status). Finally, Christian missionaries began (and would continue) to wander around China in search of souls to save, outside the areas in which they had been explicitly told to reside. These matters forced Kangxi to refocus his opinion on these people. He told the Pope that such religious visitors had to be ‘prudent and quiet … [and] … carefully observe our laws and maintain order without transgression’,74 and, henceforth, new rules were applicable. This included them being registered, more clearly identifiable (so the line between missionary and merchant was not blurred) and treated with respect but restricted to certain areas (Beijing and some of the port towns around Guangzhou). They were expelled from the new ones they had ventured into, and any property they had in these regions was nationalised. Both the Yongzheng and the Qianlong Emperors continued this trend of increasingly controlling the influence of Christian missionaries. Simultaneously, Chinese converts, although not executed, could lose their privileges and be exiled to certain areas. The Emperors adopted this approach, as to treat them more harshly would only, ‘make them famous in Europe’.75 (d) Korea The Koreans knew about westerners before westerners knew about them. Korean officials were familiar with Europeans in China and the Dutch were shipwrecked on the Korean coast from the early seventeenth century. However, the diplomatic interactions were tightly controlled, and those lucky enough to survive any shipwrecks were unable to leave Korea for fear that they would tell other westerners about what they had found. It was only when a shipwrecked European sailor escaped to Japan in 1653, that the western world became aware of this country. By this point the Koreans had already learned of the west from contacts, books and materials, they obtained in China. From what they learned, they were much more impressed with western technology than western cosmology, to which their Confucian scholars in Korea were writing detailed rebuttals well before Christian missionaries even landed on their shores.76

Despite this isolation, converts to Catholicism, via Chinese sources and teachers, did occur. This was especially so when it was assumed that Catholicism and traditional Confucian values were compatible. The first Korean baptism, following a trip to Peking, was in 1784. By 1790, before there were any priests in Korea, there were over 1,000 Koreans calling themselves Christians. When these new Christians were then informed in a letter from the Papacy, via Beijing, that Catholicism was not compatible with traditional Confucian values (and especially their rites to the deceased), choices had to be made between one faith and the other. When one of those making those choices opted to commemorate the death of his (Catholic aligned) mother, with a Christian funeral as opposed to a Confucian one, the government had him arrested, tried, and executed (on December 8, 1791) for conduct contrary to Confucian moral and ritual obligations. The Choson king of that period, Chongjo, hoped that the solitary execution would be enough to deter others from following such a path. The next century would see a much more bloody approach.77 (e) Vietnam From the early part of the seventeenth century, the territorial division between the feudal families of the Nguyen (in the south) and the Trinh (in the north) had Vietnam divided into two parts. Conflict between these two sides raged from 1627 for 45 years, before stalemate turned into peace in 1672. For the next 100 years, the two sides went in separate directions, divided by the Linh river, with both sides interested in western technology, but carefully regulating who could stay where and under what conditions.78 The uneasy peace between the north and the south shattered in the early 1770s, with the Tay Son uprising. This complex coalition, driven by concerns of heavy taxation, corruption, and endless frontier wars (with Siam) linked together disparate groups of peasants, indigenous folk, and even Chinese merchants, who rebelled against the Ngyuen rulers. The Trinh took advantage of this, and linking with the rebels, also attacked the Ngyuen, who suffered defeats and retreated into Siam where they found sanctuary. Assuming that the Ngyuen were defeated, the Tay Son then turned on (and defeated) their Trinh allies. This occurred when it was obvious that a Qing army from China was about to enter Vietnam. In so doing, their ruler (the second Tay Son ruler in 1788) issued an edict in which he said he had reluctantly taken up the position of Emperor over all Vietnam, as necessary to defeat the Chinese invasion, from which only a unified Vietnam could respond.79 Exactly why the Chinese dispatched a force in late November 1788 of between 50,000 and 200,000 men is a source of debate. Whether it was pure opportunism, or a question of obligation in support of the Trinh in the north is uncertain. What is not uncertain is the result. After the Qing descended into Vietnam, they took the bait of a feigned retreat, were drawn out, and then caught and mauled as the trap closed around them. The most significant defeat for the Qing occurred at the Battle of Ngoc Hoi-Dong Da, near modern-day Hanoi, when the Chinese were caught, unprepared on 31 January celebrating Chinese New Year. In this greatest of all Vietnamese victories over the Chinese, although at least 8,000 Vietnamese

troops were killed, so too were half the enemy forces.80 The victory of the Tay Son was sufficient for the Qianlong Emperor to give up their support for the Trinh and accept that power had now passed to the Tay Son dynasty. However, despite achieving their victory, the Tay Son could not survive the issues around succession when their leader died in the middle of September 1792. It was at this precise point that some of the original Nguyen remnants who had regrouped (with Nguyen Anh/Gia Long at the forefront), struck. This was a very successful action in which Nguyen Anh regained full control of Vietnam (fully unifying the country in 1802) and his dynasty was accepted by the Qing authority in China. An important part of this success was their relationship with the French, who had been present in that part of the world since the early seventeenth century through both their Jesuits, and later, merchants. The French connection was so strong that the notable Treaty of Versailles was agreed in 1787 (when Nguyen Anh was in deep conflict with the Tay Son rebellion) between Nguyen Anh and Louis XVI.81 In the first article, the French King promised Nguyen Anh to, ‘engage in the most efficacious manner … in order to allow [him] to re-enter into the possession and enjoyment of his states’. The second article explained that this would involve ‘four frigates … 1,200 infantrymen, 200 artillery men, and 250 [non-European] soldiers … and all their articles of war’. In exchange, France was to acquire, ‘the absolute control and sovereignty over the island of … Hoi An/Touron’82 and the island of Poulo Condore.83 The French were also to be allowed to make on the mainland, ‘all of the establishments that they judge to be necessary’.84 The French were also to get, ‘complete liberty to engage in commerce in all of the lands [of Vietnam] … to the exclusion of all other Europeans’.85 Rules for extradition of fugitives and protections for French nationals while in Vietnam were also settled. Although never formally implemented (especially as the French Revolution intervened), in practice, the French authorities still honoured it and during the following decade militarily helped Nguyen Anh to gain full control over Vietnam. This support went on to form a significant part of the France’s popular legitimation of its future colonial conquests that would repeatedly drag the two countries into repeated conflict in the centuries to come.

7.

Conclusion

The beginning period of this book overlaps with the formation of the Qing Empire of China and the eclipse of the Ming. The four emperors of the period, Shunzhi, Kangxi, Yongzheng and Qianlong maintained a continual focus in which their realm was strengthened internally and expanded externally. The internal strength was achieved by a more encompassing ideology that existed under the Ming. This meant widening the circles of social inclusion beyond the traditional Han favouratism. A smoother empire, from better laws, less corruption, more food and a new and cohesive national identity also helped in this solidification. The result was that by the end of the eighteenth century, the Qing Empire was easily as powerful (especially in cultural and

economic terms) as anything elsewhere in the world. The external strength saw the Qing increasingly gain control over a number of areas. This was most evident with Taiwan (in the seventeenth century) and a number of populations Mongolian and Muslim tribes (in the eighteenth century) which had their autonomy increasingly stripped away following military campaigns which became increasingly brutal. This pacification in the interior territories was possible as Russia and China learned how to co-operate and, from the late seventeenth century, started to make treaties of peace and cooperation. These treaties reflected a relationship between equals. The peace treaties here were not just about trading privileges, they were also about borders, and principles to ensure that the two countries did not collide into each other. Critically, they divided the territories between themselves. Those stuck in what was previously a hinterland were now subject to the control of either Russia or China. With regard to other external considerations, Korea was kept in a close vassal relationship, and was the most favoured foreign friend. Tibet also became increasingly nested under the Qing wing the decades progressed the authorities in China learned how to exercise control in ways that went beyond blunt military force. Japan was kept at arm’s length, while Siam, Burma and Vietnam all experienced Chinese intervention, as Qing authorities justified invasions on the grounds of abused Chinese nationals and/or allies in trouble. Increasingly, however, it was becoming apparent that while China could gain control over the interior territories, these other territories, with their own deep histories and emerging national identities, could not be folded into the Qing box of tributaries. These coastal areas (akin to Japan, Korea and China) had all been subject to European interventions from the middle of the seventeenth century. The trend here was that while some of these countries in Asia (especially China, Japan and Korea) strictly controlled European interests (and kept the trade relationship under tight control as well as European values in the form of Christianity), other countries (such as Siam and Vietnam) worked in the opposite direction. The authorities there were more liberal in that they were willing to grant greater privileges to Europeans than their other Asian neighbours because of the benefits that European military (and not just trade) alliances could bring to them at that point in time.

1 Gillespie, A (2016) The Causes of War (Hart, Oxford) II: 257–260. 2 See Sun, L (2017). ‘Writing an Empire: An Analysis of the Manchu Myth Origin’. Journal of Chinese History. 1(1): 93–109; Lieberman, V (2008). ‘The Qing Dynasty and its Neighbours’. Social Science History. 32(2): 281–304; Chia, C (2002). ‘Disease and its Impact on Politics, Diplomacy and the Military’. Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences. 57(2): 177–197; Elliot, M (2000). ‘Manchuria in Imperial and National Geographies’. The Journal of Asian Studies. 59(3): 603–46. 3 Regent Dorgon’s Edict to the Board of War, as reprinted in Chen, J (ed.) The Search for Modern China: A Documentary Collection (Norton, London, 2014). 27. 4 The Imperial Edict to the Board of Rites, as reprinted in Chen, J (ed.) The Search for Modern China: A Documentary Collection (Norton, London, 2014). Also, on p 27. 5 Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 360; Rowe, W (2009). China’s Last Empire: The Great Qing. (Harvard University Press, London). 22–25; Zarrow, P (2004). ‘Historical Trauma: Anti-Manchuism and Memories of Atrocity in Late Qing China’. History and Memory. 16(2): 67–107.

6 See the ‘Execution of the Prince of Gui’, as reprinted in Chen, J (ed.) The Search for Modern China: A Documentary Collection (Norton, London, 2014). 33. 7 See Herman, J (2018). ‘Settler Colonialism in Southwest China, 1680–1735’. Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies. 78(1): 91; Herman, J (1997). ‘Early Qing Reforms to the Native Chieftan System’. The Journal of Asian Studies. 56(1): 47– 74. 8 Rowe, W (2009). China’s Last Empire: The Great Qing. (Harvard University Press, London). 96–98; Elliot, M (2000). ‘Manchuria in Imperial and National Geographies’. The Journal of Asian Studies. 59(3): 603–46. 9 Yojiro, M (2016). ‘The Late Qing National Language Issue’. Chinese Studies in History, 49(3): 108–25; Rowe, W (2009). China’s Last Empire: The Great Qing. (Harvard University Press, London). 15–18, 44–48; Perdue, P (2005) China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. (Harvard University Press, London). 135–37. 10 See Dai, Y (2017). ‘Qing Military Institutions and their Effects on Government, Economy and Society’. Journal of Chinese History. 1(2): 329–52; Waley-Cohen, M (2006). ‘On the Militarisation of Culture in the Eighteenth-Century Qing Empire’. Common Knowledge. 12(1): 96–108; Elliot, M (2001). The Manchu Way: The Eight Banners and Ethnic Identity in Late Imperial China. (Stanford University Press, California). Herman, J (1997). ‘Empire in the Southwest: Early Quin Reforms’. The Journal of Asian Studies. 56(1): 47–74; Waley-Cohen, J (1996). ‘Commemorating War in Eighteenth Century China’. Modern Asian Studies. 30(4): 869–99. 11 The Edict, ‘Summons to Tributary Nations’, is reprinted in Lo-Shu, F (ed.) A Documentary Chronicle of SinoWestern Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tucson). I: 6. 12 Wang, Y (2015). ‘Claiming Centrality in the Chinese World: Manch-Choson Relations’. The Chinese Historical Review. 22(2): 95–119’ Yoon, S (2014). ‘Early Qing-Choson Relations’. The Chinese Historical Review. 21(2): 97–120; Kim, S (2007). ‘Trespassing between the Qing China and Choson Korea’. Late Imperial China. 28(1): 33–53. 13 Schaik, S (2013). Tibet: A History. (Yale University Press, London). 122–23; Kohle, N (2008). ‘Why Did the Kangxi Emperor Go to Wutai Shan?’ Late Imperial China. 29(1): 73–104. 14 The best example of his vision in this area is his 16 Edicts from 1670. These are reprinted in the ‘Sacred Edict of the Kangxi Emperor’, as reprinted in Chen, J (ed.) The Search for Modern China: A Documentary Collection (Norton, London, 2014). 48. 15 Perdue, P (2005) China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. (Harvard University Press, London). 137–41;Wakeman, F (1984). ‘Romantics, Stoics and Martyrs in Seventeenth Century China’. The Journal of Asian Studies. 43(4): 631. 16 This quote is from art 2 of the Treaty between Koxinga and the Dutch Government. It is reprinted in Campbell, W (1903). Formosa under the Dutch. (Kegan, London). 455. Also, Grant, R (2011). 1001 Battles That Changed the Course of History. (Penguin, London). 361. 17 See Lo-Shu, F (ed.) A Documentary Chronicle of Sino-Western Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tucson). I: 34– 40 18 ‘The Memorial Describing the Great Victory, 1683’, as reprinted in Chen, J (ed.) The Search for Modern China: A Documentary Collection (Norton, London, 2014). 36–38. 19 See ‘the Annexation of Formosa’, as reprinted in Lo-Shu, ibid, I: 60–61. 20 Po, R (2019). ‘Hero or Villain? The Evolving Legacy of Shi Lang in China and Taiwan’. Modern Asian Studies. 53(5): 1486–515; Chen, B (2018). ‘Contested Power and Discourse around Southeast Coastal China in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries’. International Journal of Asian Studies. 15(1): 85–116; Ho, D (2013). ‘The Empire’s Scorched Shore: Coastal China, 1633–683’. Journal of Early Modern History. 17(1): 53–74; Andrade, T (2006). ‘The Rise and Fall of Dutch Taiwan, 1624–1662’ Journal of World History. 17(4): 429–50. 21 Hang, X (2016). ‘The Alliance between Tokugawa Japan and the Zheng Family in Seventeenth Century Maritime East Asia’. The Journal of Asian Studies 75(1): 111–36. 22 Romans, T (2018). ‘Mysterious Ships, Troublesome Loans and Rumours of War’. Journal of World History. 29(4): 506–25; Hang, X (2016). ‘The Shogun’s Chinese Partners’. The Journal of Asian Studies. 75(1): 111–36. 23 See Lo-Shu, F (ed.) A Documentary Chronicle of Sino-Western Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tucson). I: 9– 10. 24 See the 1683 Letter sent by the Emperor to the Tsar, as reprinted in Lo-Shu, ibid, I: 64.

25 Ivanov, A (2009). ‘Conflicting Loyalties: Fugitives and Traitors in the Russo-Manchurian Frontier, 1651–1689’. Journal of Early Modern History. 13: 333–58; Miasnikov, V (193). ‘The Manchu Invasion of the Amur River Valley and the 1689 Treaty of Nerchinsk’. Chinese Law and Government. 6(4): 22–91. 26 These words are from art 6 of the Treaty of Nerchinsk, as reprinted in Fu, Lo-shu. A Documentary Chronicle of SinoWestern Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tuscon, 1966). I: 101. Also, in 18 CTS 503. 27 For commentary, see Perdue, P (2010). ‘Boundaries and Trade in the Early Modern World: Negotiations at Nerchinsk and Beijing’. Eighteenth Century Studies 43(3): 341–56; Frank, V (1947). ‘The Territorial Terms of the Sino-Russian Treaty of Nerchinsk’. Pacific Historical Review. 16(3): 265–70. 28 Art 1. A similar division, with the interlinking river Argun was dealt with in art 2. 29 Ibid, art 3. 30 Ibid, art 4. 31 Ibid, art 5. 32 Ibid, art 6. 33 This quote is from the last half of art 6. 34 See ‘Russia Warned Against an Alliance with Galdan’, as reprinted in Fu, Lo-shu. A Documentary Chronicle of SinoWestern Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tuscon, 1966). I: 104. 35 See Lorge, P (2005). War, Politics and Society in Early Modern China, 900–1795. (Routledge, Abingdon). 161–62; Perdue, P (1996). ‘Military Mobilisation in Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century China, Russia and Mongolia’. Modern Asian Studies. 30(4): 757, 763–67. 36 See Perdue, P (2005) China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. (Harvard University Press, London). 212–13. 37 Rowe, W (2009). China’s Last Empire: The Great Qing. (Harvard University Press, London). 76. 38 Schaik, S (2013). Tibet: A History. (Yale University Press, London). 134–45; Elliot, M (2009). Emperor Qianlong: Son of Heaven, Man of the World. (Longman, Harlow). 27. 39 See, for example, ‘Yongzheng’s Edict on Changing the Status of Mean People’, as reprinted in Chen, J (ed.) The Search for Modern China: A Documentary Collection (Norton, London, 2014). 52–53; Rowe, W (2009). China’s Last Empire: The Great Qing. (Harvard University Press, London). 66, 69–70. 40 See the ‘Conference on the Bur River’, as reprinted in Fu, Lo-shu. A Documentary Chronicle of Sino-Western Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tuscon, 1966). I: 151. The full treaty is also in 33 CTS 23. 41 Lorge, P (2005). War, Politics and Society in Early Modern China, 900–1795. (Routledge, Abingdon). 162–63. 42 Rowe, W (2009). China’s Last Empire: The Great Qing. (Harvard University Press, London). 69, 99, 105. 43 Elliot, M (2009). Emperor Qianlong: Son of Heaven, Man of the World. (Longman, London). 27. 44 Fu, Lo-shu. A Documentary Chronicle of Sino-Western Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tuscon, 1966). I: 207– 10. 45 Elliot, M (2009). Emperor Qianlong: Son of Heaven, Man of the World. (Longman, London). 90–95. 46 Emperor Qianlong, as recorded in Perdue, P (2005) China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. (Harvard University Press, London). 283. See also pp 254–56, 271–75, 280–82. 47 Qianlong, ibid, 283. 48 White, M (2011). Atrocitology: Humanity’s 100 Deadliest Achievements. (Text, Melbourne). 254. Elliot, ibid, 94. 49 Kim, K (2012). ‘Emin Khwaja and the Qing Conquest of Central Asia’. The Journal of Asian Studies. 71(3): 603–26; Perdue, P (2005) China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. (Harvard University Press, London). 295–99. 50 Rowe, W (2009). China’s Last Empire: The Great Qing. (Harvard University Press, London). 74. Fu, Lo-shu. A Documentary Chronicle of Sino-Western Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tuscon, 1966). I: 199–200, 205. 51 The 1768 Revision of the Treaty of Kihkhta, as reprinted in Fu, Lo-shu. ibid, : 249. Also in 44 CTS 229. 52 The 1792 Protocol is in Fu, Lo-shu. ibid, I: 322. See also pp 233, 237, 239.

53 Lorge, P (2005). War, Politics and Society in Early Modern China, 900–1795. (Routledge, Abingdon). 166, 168–69 54 Trager, F (1964). ‘Burma and China’. Journal of Southeast Asian History. 5(1): 29, 32–37. 55 This quote, from the 1769 Treaty, is found in Canton Publishers (1840). The Chinese Repository. (Tokyo). Vol 9: 188. 56 For discussion, see Dai, Y (2004). ‘A Disguised Defeat: The Myanmar Campaign of the Qing Dynasty’. Modern Asian Studies. 38(1): 145–89; Desai, W (1960). ‘Foreign Relations of Burma’s Last King’. International Studies. 2(1): 1–24. 57 Lorge, P (2005). War, Politics and Society in Early Modern China, 900–1795. (Routledge, London). 170. 58 Schaik, S (2013). Tibet: A History. (Yale University Press, London). 158–60. 59 See Huffman, J (2010). Japan in World History. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 60–64. 60 For the anti-Christian edicts and statements from the period, see Theodore, W (ed.) Sources of Japanese Tradition. (Columbia UP, NYC, 2006). II: 144–57. 61 This quote is in Abulafia, D (2019). The Boundless Sea: A Human History of the Oceans. (Allen Lane, London). 693–94. 62 Ravina, M (2015). ‘The Politics of Trade and Diplomacy in Eighteenth Century East Asia’. Journal of World History. 26(2): 269. 63 Art 1 of the Treaty of Alliance and Peace Between the Dutch East India Company and Siam. This is reprinted in 8 CTS 179. 64 Ibid, art 2. 65 The 1687 ‘Treaty Between France and Siam’ is reprinted in Coedes, G (1921). ‘Siamese Documents of the Seventeenth Century’. Journal of the Siam Society 14: 7, at 30. 66 See the 1656 Edict ‘Allowing the Dutch to Come to China Every Eighth Year’, as reprinted in Lo-Shu, F (ed.) A Documentary Chronicle of Sino-Western Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tucson). I: 19. 67 See the 1647 Edict of ‘Trade with the Portuguese’, as reprinted in Lo-Shu, ibid, I: 8; Rahusen, H (2002). ‘The First Dutch Trade Embassy to China’. Modern Asian Studies. 36(3): 535–78. 68 See Gang, Z (2013). The Qing Opening to the Ocean: Chinese Maritime Policies, 1684–1757. (Hawaii University Press, Honolulu). Also, See Jami, C (2012). The Emperor’s New Mathematics: Western Learning and Imperial Authority During the Kangxi Reign. (Oxford University Press, Oxford). 69 Rowe, W (2009). China’s Last Empire: The Great Qing. (Harvard University Press, London). 138, 140–41. Fu, Loshu. ibid, I: 141. 70 Abulafia, D (2019). The Boundless Sea: A Human History of the Oceans. (Allen Lane, London). 782–85. 71 ‘The Second Edict, 1793’, as reprinted in Chen, J (ed.) The Search for Modern China: A Documentary Collection (Norton, London, 2014). 91. 72 ‘The Second Edict’, ibid. Also, Thomas, ed. (1929). Chinese Political Thought. (Oates, London). 289. 73 The ‘Proclamation of Religious Toleration’ as reprinted in Fu, Lo-shu. A Documentary Chronicle of Sino-Western Relations. (Arizona University Press, Tuscon, 1966). I: 105. 74 See the 1725 Edict, ‘Emperor’s Reply to the Pope’, as reprinted in Fu, Lo-shu. Ibid I: 143, 144. 75 See the 1727 Edict, ‘Adherence to Catholicism is Not a Crime’, as reprinted in Fu, Lo-shu. Ibid I: 154; See also pp114–15, 138–39, 178; Rowe, W (2009). China’s Last Empire: The Great Qing. (Harvard University Press, London).139– 41, 146. 76 For some of the early rebuttals and criticisms of Catholicism, see the works of Yi Ik, Sin Hudam and an Chongbot. All of these are in Ch’oe, Y (ed.) Sources of Korean Tradition. (Columbia University Press, NYC). II: 124–35. 77 See Baker, D (2017). Catholics and Anti-Catholicism in Choson Korea. (Hawaii University Press, Honolulu). 78 See, for example, the 1650 Edict Prohibiting Foreigners from Taking up Residence Without Restrictions. This is reprinted in Dutton, G (ed.) Sources of Vietnamese Traditions. (Columbia University Press, NYC). 162. 79 See the Edict on Ascending the Throne, as in Dutton, ibid, 217. 80 Lorge, P (2005). War, Politics and Society in Early Modern China, 900–1795. (Routledge, Abingdon). 168–69.

81 The 1787 Treaty of Versailles Between Nguen Anh and Louis XVI, as reprinted in Dutton, G (ed.) Sources of Vietnamese Traditions. (Columbia University Press, NYC). 219. Also in 50 CTS 247. 82 Ibid, art 3. 83 Ibid, art 5. 84 Ibid, art 4. 85 Ibid, art 6.

XIV Grand Plans for Peace 1.

Introduction

B

there was an impressive growth in the theory of international relations, and schemes that were designed to prevent future wars. Although none of these schemes changed the world at this point, they did lay the seeds for what international governance would look like in the future. In terms of sequence, it went from the very pessimistic views of Hobbes to the practical suggestions for types of European collectives, as sketched out by Penn, Leibniz, and SaintPierre. Rousseau and Voltaire would put the brakes on such ideas, emphasising the wider needs for social change before revolutionary regional institutions could be established. Finally, Bentham and Kant added their thoughts, explaining that although these were all good ideas, without the inclusion of the regulation of military forces, colonies, trade and republican forms of government (as opposed to absolute sovereigns), there were limits to what could be achieved. ETWEEN 1650 AND 1800

2.

Hobbes

The theory of international relations, in terms of political theory for the timing of this book, began in 1651 when one of the most important books on political philosophy ever written – the Leviathan – was published in London. This book was written by Thomas Hobbes after his exile in Paris, where he had fled the English Civil War. He produced a radical philosophy to match the extreme nature of the times. Hobbes postulated that before civil society, although all were equal, life was, ‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short’1 in which competition and conflict were the norm, within a, ‘condition called war; and such a war, as if of every man, against every man’.2 This was what Hobbes believed was the ‘state of nature’.3 To Hobbes, to escape such a dangerous state of nature, a Leviathan was required. This was an entity with near-unlimited power, required to battle the forces around it and bring peace and security to the realm it defended. Hobbes saw this type of thinking in both the domestic and international fields. Thus, the:

[L]aw of nations and the law of nature, is the same thing … every sovereign has the same right in procuring the safety of his people that any particular man can have, in procuring his own safety.4

Hobbes added: [I]n all times, Kings and persons of sovereign authority, because of the independency are in continual jealousies, and in the state and posture of gladiators, having their weapons pointing and their eyes fixed on one another.5

Although Hobbes believed leaders should seek peace when it was possible, recourse to violence for reasons of self-defence or necessity was legitimate. For Hobbes, necessity included the securing of the important resources which he described as the use of fire, water, air, a place to live in, and all things necessary for life. Hobbes added that in these situations, ‘nothing can be unjust. Where there is no common power, there is no law: where there is no law, no injustice. Force and fraud are in war the two cardinal virtues’.6 This thinking was not far from what the great French philosopher, Blaise Pascal was suggesting in the same period, that ‘all men naturally hate each other’ and were in a natural state of war.7 Pascal, although looking at the equation from a different angle, came to a similar conclusion. Thus, while talk of ‘justice’ was enlightening, the reality was that pure power was required to maintain social order.8 Others, such as the Italian Giambattista Vico, added to this pessimism, seeing civilisation as growing softer, losing its vitality and quarrelling stupidly. In such a world, war was inevitable.9 While Hobbes and the philosophers following him coloured much of the thinking of international relations in political terms, the legal analysis, although softer, was quite similar. That is, all of the great scholars of the period, including Richard Zouche,10 Samuel Rachel,11 Johann Textor,12 and Samuel von Pufendorf13 all added their weight to this area, as did John Locke.14 Although each talked of the value of utilising all possible peaceful methods (like arbitration or mediation – and arbitration was beginning to appear in some early peace treaties) to avoid conflict, non-violent dispute resolution was not recommended as an obligatory pathway for sovereign rulers.

3.

Penn

The exception to this type of thinking arrived in 1693, as the international community was descending into the global conflict that was the Nine Years War. It was at this point that William Penn published his essay, Towards the Present and Future Peace of Europe by the Establishment of a European Diet, Parliament or Estates.15 For Penn, to break the cycle of endless violence of the past, the key was to find a mechanism that could deliver justice, and with it, peace. Justice, he added, as the method to avoid confusion and conflict, and thus achieve peace, was achieved by the formation of governments, to which a key principle had to be that, ‘no man is judge in his own cause’,16 nor punisher of their own wrong. In the international sphere, to achieve this Penn mused that the sovereigns of Europe

would be required to meet at least once every three years, ‘and establish rules of justice for sovereign princes to observe’.17 Penn envisaged a collective which included both monarchies and Republics, as well as those on the outskirts of Europe, such as Poland-Lithuania, Russia and the Ottoman Empire. Although each was sovereign, Penn worked out a differentiated voting structure (based upon the size and population of the country) for decision making.18 Although there were clear disparities, the idea was that the group, together, would weigh more than any single sovereign body (even if that country alone was very strong). He added, that if any sovereign: [S]hall refuse to submit their claims or pretensions to them, or to abide and perform the judgement [which requires three-quarter majorities] thereof, and seek their remedy by arms, or delay their compliance beyond the time prefixed in their resolutions, all the other sovereigns, united as One Strength, shall compel the submission and performance of the sentence, with damages to the suffering party, and charges to the sovereignty that obliged their submission.19

Penn envisaged that this collective body could adjudge on all matters the retention, recovery or extension of territory via conflict and/or title. Moreover, with its collective weight, it could compel compliance. As such, ‘the great fish can no longer eat up the little ones, and that each sovereignty is equally defended from injuries, and disabled from committing them’.20

4.

Leibniz

William Penn’s ideas made no impact at all on the conclusion and the peace settlement of the Nine Years War or the start of the War of Spanish Succession. It was with the second conflict, which was bigger than the first, that the scholars picked up Penn’s work again, and tried to see if there were improvements that could be made to the original proposal. Notable contributors the scholarship in this period were Gottfried Leibniz, and the more famous on this count Charles de Saint Pierre. Leibniz’s work in 1677, 1693 and 1715 on this area argued that a type of global social contract (to which Leibniz added the value of Chinese sovereigns) could be established whereby, ‘several sovereign powers may accept a common tie as if they were as many free persons, be it by law, or by a declaration of their will, or by custom’.21 He added that those who broke such agreements were extremely dishonourable. He argued for collective defence against unjust aggression and even went so far as to call for a European confederation governed by a council or senate. Leibniz suggested that the best way to make such sovereigns comply peacefully with the common good in the then modern world (as ‘the most powerful do not respect tribunals at all’)22 was to necessitate every member on the council to deposit a large sum of money (commensurate with their size and power) to an independent organisation, that they would forfeit if they breached its rules.23

5.

The AbbÉ Charles de Saint-Pierre

Charles-Irénée Castel, more commonly known as the abbé (abbot) de Saint-Pierre, published his Project for Perpetual Peace in 1713.24 In this manuscript which was being written from 1708 (that is, before the Treaty of Utrecht) Saint Pierre proposed that the pathway to peace was an agreement in which the signatories renounced, ‘resort to arms in order to terminate their differences’, and rather, adopt, ‘the method of conciliation by mediation’.25 He noted that without, ‘a permanent system of arbitration, there can be no security for the fulfilment of any promise, no lasting peace’.26 He reasoned that, ‘the present constitution of Europe can never produce anything but almost continual wars, because it can never procure any sufficient security for the execution of treaties’.27 To solve this problem, Saint Pierre argued two points. These were some fundamentals for international understanding, and a mechanism to deliver them. In terms of the fundamentals, Saint Pierre called for an entrenchment of the status quo in terms of both territory and political systems. Of territory, there was to be a freeze with each sovereign, content for themselves and their successors, for what they, at that point, possessed. Therefore, ‘all the sovereignties of Europe shall always remain in the condition they are in, and shall always have the same limits that they have now’.28 This meant that no sovereign, henceforth, could assume the title of ruler, over any land they were not, at that point, in possession. Of political systems, aside the general principle that a country should either be elective or hereditary (not both),29 the rule was to be that the Diet shall, prima facie: [N]ot at all concern itself about the government of any state … Thus it will be a guarantee that the hereditary sovereignties shall remain hereditary, according to the manner and custom of each nation; that those are elective shall remain elective in the country where election is usual.30

The last fundamental consideration he offered as part of the glue for peace was to be rule based commerce and trade, which was to be accelerated.31 In terms of the mechanism to deliver such a peace, Saint Pierre proposed a type of confederated European Council/Senate or Diet of 18 parts of Europe, including Russia, but not including the Ottomans – but he did envisage the Diet making treaties of peace with them. When dealing with matters of common concern that threatened the peace (or a complaint by any of the members), Saint Pierre reasoned that if those in dispute could not resolve the matter peacefully between themselves, it would go to the group. Thus, when mandated mediation could not reach a conclusion, the matter would be put to the Council which would decide by a majority of three quarters (with one country, one vote).32 He added, and in accordance with this mechanism, that: No sovereign will take up arms and commit any act of hostility except against a State which has been declared an enemy of the European society … The sovereign who takes up arms before the Union’s decision, or refuses to execute a ruling of the society … shall be declared an enemy of the Society … which shall make war upon him.33

6.

Vattel and Wolff

By the 1750s, as the European world slipped into further wars about Austrian Succession,

and then the Seven Years War, two of the most brilliant legal scholars of the Enlightenment, Christian Wolff34 and Emeric de Vattel35 put their minds to the question of what was to be done to find perpetual peace. Both these men had an optimistic view of the future and the growing opportunities for a universal international law. For example, Vattel in 1758 suggested: Nations are bound by the law of Nature to promote the welfare of the human race … the offices of humanity consist in the duty of mutual assistance [such as if attacked unjustly or suffering famine] which men owe to each other because … they are made to live together in society … every nation should give aid when the occasion arises, according to its ability … nations should love each other … [and] … cultivate the friendship of other nations and avoid arousing their enmity … religious differences should not preclude the offices of humanity.36

Wolff, in 1764, added to this optimistic thinking, arguing that mutual aid and promotion of the common good were implicit obligations within the international realm. Wolff spoke of a duty of humanity, international friendship and growing international norms which should be learned and cultivated. He went on to suggest that difference in religion, or learning, should not prevent countries forming positive relations.37 Despite seeing an optimistic future, overall, both would continue to project international relations in the then conventional paradigm. While tools such as arbitration would be noted as valuable, neither Vattel nor Wolff would recommend them as something which should be made mandatory.

7.

Voltaire

Perhaps the two greatest minds of the French Enlightenment, Voltaire and Rousseau, saw the world differently to the legal scholars. For Voltaire, war was the greatest of all evils. He reached this conclusion through both his philosophy and his personal experience of being so close to it, as the go-between of Louis XV and Frederick the Great. Voltaire located the cause of most conflicts in the arbitrary whims and ambitions of only a few individuals. He dismissed the idea of a just war as, ‘an impossible contradiction’38 with both history and his contemporary conflicts being full of unjust objectives, justifications and methods. In that world he found all proposals for enhanced international law, or even enforced arbitration and resolution by majority bound Diets, hopelessly naïve about the causes of war and the realities of human nature. He noted caustically, ‘I know of no conqueror who came with a sword in one hand and a book of laws in the other’.39 For Voltaire, progress was to be achieved by a gradual enlightenment, rather than by forceful international federal institutions to end conflict. He reasoned that perpetual peace would only arise when the majority of people recognised that, as opposed to conflict (from which benefited only a few leaders and their generals), much greater benefits for all would be reached by cooperation and trade. He argued: The sole means of rendering peace perpetual among men is then to destroy all the dogmas that divide them, and to reestablish the truth which unites them; that is what perpetual peace really is.40

8.

Rousseau

In the year 1756, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, penned some comments on the abbé de Saint Pierre’s Project for Perpetual Peace. He sketched out his proposal for a ‘perpetual alliance’ in which 19 members (including Russia, but not the Ottomans) would be given votes of differentiated weight, within a confederation which guaranteed each of them what they held when they entered into the arrangement. Fighting one member of this confederation would mean fighting all members of the confederation. Rousseau saw this proposal as eminently sensible as, ‘all the alleged evils of confederation, when duly weighed, come to nothing’.41 Rousseau believed this type of project was a direct pathway to stop conquests, stop living in fear of neighbours, ending a continual quest for security arrangements, and having rights (for both dynasties and/or republics) maintained without the necessity of conflict. It would save lives, money and allow states to prosper, not become enfeebled by war or the fear thereof. Trade and beneficial cooperation would increase. The problem, as Rousseau saw it, was that the system was entirely geared in the opposite direction, in which all societies (and especially its rulers) were saturated with militarism and socialised (via both reason and passion) and structured towards violence, not peace, with their neighbours. As he concluded: [T]he project remains unrealised, … not because it is utopian; it is because men are crazy, and because to be sane in a world of madmen is in itself a kind of madness.42

9.

Bentham

Over three decades later, in 1789, Bentham, the great English scholar, penned his Plan for A Universal and Perpetual Peace.43 The genius of his plan, in the wake of the War of American Independence and in the build-up to the French Revolutionary Wars, was to move beyond the existing models on this question and put some new, foundational, factors into the mix. He saw two considerations as critical if lasting peace was to be achieved. The first was the reduction and regulation of the military forces of European nations. His goal here was to make this objective multilateral, in which ‘perpetual treaties might be formed limiting the number of troops to be maintained’.44 The second essential factor for Bentham was an end of colonies, or as he said, ‘the emancipation of the distant dependencies of each state’.45 The end of colonies was important for Bentham as he saw these as a predominant source of economic loss for a country, with the continual risk of being catalysts for war – because the colonists want independence, or because other countries want them. He also saw colonies as creating the risk of corruption and diversion of resources and attention within mother countries. Bentham then went on to argue that (for Britain), treaties of alliance (offensive or defensive) as well as treaties of restrictive commerce, only produced disadvantages. He added that practices of secret treaties (as opposed to the negotiations that lead to agreements) were ‘altogether useless and equally repugnant to the interests of liberty and to those of peace’.46

Bentham reasoned that if these principles were accepted by Britain and the other countries of Europe, then a (non-coercive) ‘Common Court of Judicature, for the decision of differences between the several nations’47 could be established. The power for such an establishment was to be in transparent reporting of its work. This was a very different type of proposal when compared to earlier writings about possible European Diets, in which it was the threat of a majority force which was seen as the mechanism which would ensure compliance. Bentham adopted a different argument. Similarly, Bentham, although emphasising the importance of economic trade, did not go into details of how his ‘Common Court’ would be constructed. He also, despite his own valuing of representative democracy, did not see this (or opposing political forms) as questions which had to be answered to achieve international peace.48

10.

Kant

Immanuel Kant’s Perpetual Peace of 1795 is, of this period, easily the most well-known example of the perpetual peace tradition. This work, written in the heat of the French Revolutionary Wars, was a strong departure from similar works on this topic in the past, and reflected new considerations that Kant identified as being in line with the progress of the age. He reasoned that an entirely new system had to be created if war in the future was to be avoided, a system well beyond the promises of international law as it then stood, as despite the grandness of the visions of these great scholars, there was, ‘no instance of a state ever having been moved to desist from its purpose by arguments supported by the testimonies of such notable men’.49 Kant’s work started out with six preliminary articles of perpetual peace. His first principle was that no treaty of peace could be considered as valid, if made with the secret reservation of material for a future war. This meant that when times for peace were ready, everything had to be settled, and that this needed to be done in an unambiguous way. His second principle was that: No independent nation, be it large or small, may be acquired by another nation by inheritance, exchange, purchase or gift … everyone is aware of the danger that this purported right of acquisition by the marriage of nations to one another … has brought to Europe.50

This principle drew a line through many of the monarch-based conflicts of the century that preceded him. His third principle, borrowing the idea from Bentham, was that military forces had to be significantly reduced. Fourth, he stipulated that national debts in connection with the external affairs of a state had to be prohibited. This was necessary, he argued, because if the debts accumulated there was a ‘dangerous money power’.51 Internal politics were for each country to deal with alone. This meant that, ‘no state shall violently interfere with the constitution or administration of another’ (unless the state had broken up). He reasoned that each independent country should be (up to the point that it was breaking up) left to struggle with its own internal difficulties. His final, and sixth, preliminary article was that, when at war, there were certain acts (such as treachery, assassination and the use of poison) that

should never be used, as they undermine all chances of future peace.52 Kant then declared three definitive articles to make perpetual peace possible. The first was that, ‘the civil constitution of each state shall be republican’. For Kant, to be a republic, the executive had to be severed from the legislature/decision making body. He added this had to be a system in which the people were equal, free and – critically – ultimately the decision makers about whether to go to war. His thinking was that those upon whom the burdens of war would fall made much better decision makers than unrepresentative rulers, for whom, ‘plunging into war is the least serious thing in the world … he can … decide on war for the most trifling reasons’.53 The second definitive article was that the law of nations needed to be founded on a federation of free states. This requirement necessitated that free (and republican) states give up certain options within a ‘senseless freedom’ in exchange for a ‘reasoned governed liberty’.54 Kant saw clear benefits in nations learning to live like individuals in a state with laws and rules as otherwise, ‘each state was its own judge, and all were living in a lawless (and dangerous) condition’. Thus, ‘without a compact between nations … [a] state of peace cannot be established’.55 Notably, Kant was not talking about some form of world government, but rather, a ‘federal union’ or ‘permanent congress of states’.56 In this federation, disputes between nations would be settled by tools such as arbitration, rather than conflict. Although Kant did not spend time thinking about what that federation would look like, the criteria for membership was well beyond the traditional thinking in this area which suggested that membership was linked by European patrimony.57 The third definitive article for perpetual peace was that the rights of people, as citizens of the world, shall be limited to the conditions of universal hospitality. The core of this was the privilege of people to exchange both ideas and goods, to the benefit, not the detriment, of local inhabitants. It was with regard to trade that Kant pointed out that such interaction helped diminish the risks of conflict, as ‘it is the spirit of commerce which cannot coexist with war’.58

11.

Conclusion

There was an impressive growth in schemes that were designed to prevent future wars in the period of this book. The foundation of this work was the pessimistic views of Hobbes, where in the international world, without an overall Leviathan, was in a state of nature in which there were no rules beyond the self-interest of the prince. This type of thinking, at a time when the international world was in ever-worsening chaos, was not uncommon. Towards the end of the seventeenth century, scholars started to challenge this idea that the untethered, self-interested, prince had to be the future. Penn advanced the idea of a European collective, to come together, working as a majority, to resolve disputes. Leibniz, and SaintPierre continued to work on this model, tinkering with questions of membership and voting considerations. While both Rousseau and Voltaire could see the theoretical benefits of such a system, their view was that the reality of the world suggested that the self-interest of the few

who maintained with the status quo, meant that change was unlikely. Accordingly, the goal was wider social change, as opposed to smart designs for regional institutions. The last scholars of note who made a mark in this area were Bentham and Kant. These scholars made large leaps. For these men, it was not just about powerful regional institutions, they added the importance of considerations of the regulation of military forces, colonies and trade. Kant agreed with many of these ideas, but added that it was critically important to get equality between countries in terms of political structures. Moreover, he pointed to republics (and not absolute sovereigns) as being the only way that a confederated system could be built.

1 Hobbes. Leviathan. (Ed, Tuck R; Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1997). 88. 2 Ibid., 90. 3 Spruyt, H (1994). ‘Institutional Selection in International Relations’. International Organisation. 48(4): 527–57. 4 Hobbes. Leviathan. (Ed, Tuck R; Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1997). 244. 5 Leviathan, Chapter 51 OR XIII. Also Boucher, D (2014). ‘Hobbes Contribution to International Thought’. European Journal of Ideas. 1–20. 6 Hobbes. Leviathan. (Ed, Tuck R; Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1997). 90. Also, Grewal, D (2016). ‘Hobbes on International Order’. Yale Law Journal 125(3): 618–47; Patterson, M (2015). ‘Hobbes Smashes Cromwell and the Rump: An Interpretation of Leviathan’. Political Theory 43(5): 631–56; Moloney, P (2011). ‘Hobbes, Savagery and International Anarchy’. American Political Science Review. 105(1): 189–204; Nuri, Y (2006). ‘Thomas Hobbes and International Relations’. Australian Journal of International Affairs. 60(2): 305–21; Pasqualucci, P (1990). ‘Hobbes and the Myth of the Final War’. Journal of the History of Ideas 51(4): 647–57. 7 Pascal, as in Wood, W (2013). Blaise Pascal on Duplicity, Sin and the Fall: The Secret Instinct. (Oxford University Press, Oxford), at 51. 8 See Beitzinger, A (1984). ‘Pascal on Justice, Force and Law’. The Review of Politics. 46(2): 212–43. 9 Kunze, D (1983). ‘Giambattista Vico as a Philosopher of Place’. Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers. 8(2): 237–48. 10 Zouche, R. (1650). An Exposition of Fecial Law and Procedure, or of Law Between Nations and Questions Concerning the Same. In Classics of International Law. (Clarendon. Oxford. tr. Brierly, J, 1911). 58. Also, Cavallar, G (2008). ‘Vitoria, Grotius, Pufendorf, Wolff and Vattel: Accomplices of European Colonialism and Exploitation or True Cosmopolitans?’ Journal of the History of International Law. 10(2):181–209; Bowman, M (2007). ‘Righting the World Through Treaties’. Legal Information Management. 7(2): 124–32; Holzgrege, J (1989). ‘The Origins of Modern International Relations Theory’. Review of International Studies. 15(1): 11–26. 11 Rachel, S (1676). The Law of Nature and of Nations. (trans, Bate, J. Baltimore Press, 1916). 183–84. 12 Textor, J.W. (1680). Synopsis of the Law of Nations. (trans, Bate, J. Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1916). 176, 229–30. 13 Pufendorf, S. (1660). Elementorum Jurisprudentiae Universalis Libri Duo. (trans, Oldfather, W, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1931) 250–52, 257; Pufendorf, S. On the Duty of Man & Citizen According to Natural Law (trans, Tully, J Cambridge University Press. Cambridge, 1988). 168. See also, Palladini, F (2008). ‘Pufendorf Disciple of Hobbes: The Nature of Man and the State of Nature’. History of European Ideas 34(1): 26–60; Boucher, D (2001). ‘Resurrecting Pufendorf and Capturing the Westphalian Moment’. Review of International Studies. 27(4): 557–77. 14 Hunt, B (2016). ‘Locke on Equality’. Political Research Quarterly. 69(3): 546–56; Waldron, J (1989). ‘John Locke: Social Contract Versus Political Anthropology’. The Review of Politics 51(1): 3–28; Moseley, A (2005). ‘John Locke’s Morality of War’. Journal of Military Ethics. 4(2): 119–28. 15 This is reprinted in Besse, J (ed.) The Peace of Europe, the Fruits of Solitude, and Other Writings by William Penn. (Everyman’s Library, London). 3–22. For comment, see Van Den Dungen, P (2014). ‘The Plans for European Peace by

Quaker Authors William Penn (1693) and John Bellers’. Araucaria. 16(32): 53–67; Russell, W (2004). ‘William Penn and the Peace of Europe’. Medicine, Conflict and Survival. 20(1): 19–34. 16 Section III. 17 Section IV. 18 In terms of voting power, inter alia, Germany 12, France 10, Spain 10, Italy 8, England 6, the United Provinces 4, Sweden 4, Denmark 3, Portugal 3 – and if Turkey and Russia were also to join, 10 each. 19 Section IV. The composition was in section VII. 20 Section IX. 21 Leibniz, as in Riley P (ed). Leibniz: Political Writings. (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1996). 183. 22 Ibid. 23 Andrés-Gallego, J (2015). ‘Leibniz’s Universal (Chinese) Dream’. Journal of Mixed Methods Research, 29(2): 118– 32; Roldan, C (2011). ‘Perpetual Peace, Federalism and the Republic of Spirits’. Studia Leibnitiana 43(1): 87–102; Schrecker, P (1946). ‘Leibniz’s Principles of International Justice’. Journal of the History of Ideas. 7(4): 484–98. 24 Abbé Charles de Saint Pierre. (1713). ‘Project for Perpetual Peace’. This is reprinted in Cooper, S. (ed.) (1974). Peace Projects of the Eighteenth Century. (Garland. New York). 122. See also, Ghervas, S (2017). ‘Balance of Power vs Perpetual Peace: Paradigms of European Order from Utrecht to Vienna, 1713–1815’. The International History Review. 39(3): 404–25. 25 Third Fundamental Article. 26 Fifth Fundamental Article, General Conclusion. Point 4. 27 Ibid, preamble, Point 1. 28 The Fourth Fundamental Article. 29 The Fifth Fundamental Article. 30 The Second Fundamental Article. 31 The Seventh Fundamental Article. 32 The Eighth Fundamental Article. Note, he reasoned that although there were to be equal voting weights, the expenses of the Society would be determined in proportion to the revenues of each state. See the Tenth Fundamental Article. 33 The Eighth Fundamental Article. 34 Wolff, C. (1764). Jus Gentium Methodo Scientifica Pertractatus. (Clarendon, Oxford, 1934). 290, 292. 35 Vattel, E. (1758). The Law of Nations and the Principles of Natural Law. (Carnegie Institute. Washington. 1916), 224–25. Also, Whelan, F. (1988). ‘Vattel’s Doctrine of State.’ History of Political Thought. 9: 69. 36 Vattel, ibid, at 113. 37 Wolff, ibid, 9, 14, 33, 35, 86, 89, 132, 174. 38 Williams, D. (ed.) Voltaire: Political Writings. (1994, Cambridge University Press. Cambridge). xxix, 7, 151, 154. 39 Ibid. 151. 40 Voltaire, as quotes in Riley, P (1974). ‘The Abbé St Pierre and Voltaire on Perpetual Peace in Europe’. World Affairs. 137(3): 186, 192. 41 Rousseau, ‘Abstract and Judgement on Saint Pierre’s Project for Perpetual Peace’. This is reprinted in Aksu. E (ed.) Early Notions of Global Governance. (University of Wales Press, Cardiff). 95, 118. 42 Spector, C (2013). ‘Perpetual Peace, from Saint Pierre to Rousseau’. History of European Ideas. 39(3): 371–93; Roosevelt, G (2006). ‘Rousseau versus Rawls on International Relations’. European Journal of Political Theory. 5(3): 301– 20; Boucher, F (2004). ‘Les Fondements de la Paix et les Origines de la Guerre’. Neophilologus. 88(3): 353–65. 43 Bentham’s ‘Plan for a Universal and Perpetual Peace’ is reprinted in Aksu.E (ed). Early Notions of Global Governance. (University of Wales Press, Cardiff). 138–72. 44 Bentham, ibid, at 140. 45 Bentham, ibid, at 138.

46 Bentham, ibid, at 140, 158. 47 Bentham, ibid, at 153. 48 See Baum, T (2008). ‘A Quest for Inspiration in the Liberal Peace Paradigm: Back to Bentham?’ European Journal of International Relations. 14(3): 431–53; Conway, S (1987). ‘Jeremy Bentham and British Foreign Policy, 1789’. The Historical Journal. 30(4): 791–809. 49 Kant, in Political Writings (ed, Reiss, H. Cambridge University Press. Cambridge, 1991). 103. 50 Kant, I. (1796). ‘Perpetual Peace: A Philosophical Sketch’. This is reprinted in Humphrey, T. (ed.) Immanuel Kant. Perpetual Peace and Other Essays. (Hacket, NYC, 1983). 107, 108. The same essay is also reprinted in Aksu, E (ed.) Early Notions of Global Governance. (University of Wales Press, Cardiff). 172. 51 Kant, as in the Aksu edition, at 178. 52 Simpson, S (2019). ‘Democratic Peace Theory and Perpetual Peace’. International Relations. 33(1): 109–28. 53 Kant, as reprinted in Aksu, ibid, 186. See also, Kant in Political Writings (ed, Reiss, H. Cambridge University Press. Cambridge, 1991). 9; Meierhenrich, J (2007). ‘Perpetual War: A Pragmatic Sketch’. Human Rights Quarterly. 29(3): 631– 73. 54 Kant, as reprinted in Aksu, ibid, 189. 55 Ibid, 191. 56 Kant, as in, Political Writings (ed, Reiss, H. Cambridge University Press. Cambridge, 1991). 174. 57 Kant, as in Humphrey, ibid, 107, 116–17. Also, Kleingeld, P (2004). ‘Kant’s Defense of a League of States and an Ideal of a World Federation’. European Journal of Philosophy. 12(3): 304–25. 58 Kant as in Aksu, ibid, 195.

XV Conclusion 1.

I

Absolute Rulers

, the conflicts between 1650 and 1750 were very similar to those which had occurred before them, especially when conflict was related to the interests of absolute monarchs in pursuit of their dynastic interests. For the period of this book, Louis XIV is probably the premier example of how monarchs can behave in war, when driven by considerations of personal interest and what he believed was necessary for his country. Louis XIV was a king of war. He ruled France for 54 years. For 32 of them, his country was involved in fighting others. He was the premier example of monarchy and how it can both justify and cause war against others around him, irrespective of their religious faith. In his time, he fought Spain, the United Provinces, England and the Holy Roman Empire repeatedly. Each conflict blended into the next, with peace and treaties appearing more like commas than full-stops. This man was driven by goals of glory, revenge and honour (for himself, his family and his dynasty). He was a brilliant strategist on the battlefield and remarkably astute in diplomacy. He could create webs of alliances, tied together by both subsidies and sometimes marriage arrangements, to help bolster his forces when necessary. There was no hint of fighting wars to deal with considerations of ideology based around social or constitutional considerations. The last two conflicts, that of the Nine Years War and the War of Spanish Succession were based around values that only a monarch could imagine fighting. For the former, the cause of the conflict were the behavioural patterns of Louis in the decade up to 1688, during which time many of his neighbours had become increasingly distrustful of him. Their linkages into alliance helped provoke him, although the factor that turned the next killing into a truly world war, was when England went (via military invasion) from the rule of James II to William III. This was a cataclysmic change. While Louis had good relationships first with Charles II and then James II, he had an extremely bad relationship with the successor to the throne of England (William III) who with his links to the United Provinces was able to lead the coalitions that repeatedly fought France. Next to the wars of Louis XIV, the war of Austrian Succession was the other extreme example of conflict based around the rights and interests of absolute rulers, and how, when these became entangled in a web of foreign alliances, the death tolls, and geographical reach N MANY WAYS

of conflicts (with killing in Europe, the New World, India and even the coast of Africa) could suddenly expand. The root cause of the entire war was the ambition of Frederick II to take a bite out of the inheritance of Maria Theresa, who had achieved power via the Pragmatic Sanction (something her father had spent decades building). Frederick’s actions propelled leaders of Bavaria, Saxony and, by alliance, France, to also see what could be achieved. In the Seven Years War which followed, the majority of the contestants were absolute monarchs, with just one constitutional monarch. Together, as before, they fought for the territories that others held. They were driven by opportunity, revenge, aggrandisement and empire. This was not a conflict over principles such as forms of government or even religion. Where these types of war for absolute rulers were slightly different to those in the past was in their scale, in the way alliances were incredibly fickle, and how conflicts could actually bring about the extinction of countries. In terms of scale, the Nine Years War, the War of Spanish Succession, the wars of Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War were all global conflicts. Blood was spilt far and wide, as distant colonies became part and parcel of the killing. In terms of alliances, most of the primary European nations managed to fight for, and against, their neighbours. Friendships and enemies were fluid, and countries could be paranoid: small changes in diplomatic behaviour could quickly trigger unanticipated results, including conflict. The other trend to note in this period was the extreme nature of many of these conflicts in that countries would group together (with hopefully overwhelming odds) with the objective of splitting, if not dissolving, the countries that were the targets. This pattern was especially strong from the middle until the end of the eighteenth century. The wars of Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War are good examples of this, with first Austria, and then Prussia, greedily eyed by their protagonists as dinner. In the case of the latter, Prussia was lucky to survive the killing. It ended up being saved by something as random one of its key enemies swapping positions, when the new national leader decided they liked, rather than hated, its ruler. Meanwhile as Prussia struggled to survive, its ally Britain recorded a remarkable string of victories and grand territorial acquisition, including securing control over both North America and Canada, while also beginning to gain the upper-hand with its partners in India. The wars of north and eastern Europe were also part of this pattern. These were conflicts in which great nations would rise (Russia). Others such as Denmark and Sweden would have significant chunks of territory knocked off. These wars were bloody, extreme and complicated, as factors of ethnicity, religion, revenge, fear and opportunity would all repeatedly coincide. In its most extreme form, alliances could lead to the extinction of entire countries. This was most evident with Poland-Lithuania. This realm, which had existed since 1569 and was one of the most populous countries in seventeenth-century Europe, was carved up at the end of the eighteenth century by Orthodox Russia, Catholic Austria and Protestant Prussia, in three separate subdivisions.

2.

Religion

The first significant difference to the patterns of warfare in the past was the decline of religion as a justification for conflict. This trend, of religion losing power, is most evident at the external level, especially in the western world. Although there were exceptions to this trend, in which warfare and theology continued to draw blood in eastern Europe, Switzerland and France, the provocations, typically, did not spread into wider regional or global wars. Religious considerations or context were barely seen in the Nine Years War, the Wars of Spanish Succession, the Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War. The exception was in eastern Europe, where warfare involving religious considerations could flare and burn to such an extent that religious intolerance was used a justification for Russian intervention in Poland-Lithuania in the second half of the eighteenth century In terms of internal conflict, most of the primary European countries progressed to a position in which tolerance of different faiths became the norm, not the exception, by the end of the eighteenth century. This end point was the exact opposite of when this study began, in 1650, when only a few Protestant countries inched their way towards tolerance on questions of religion. Although the Protestant countries moved faster on this equation, the Catholic countries, after 1760 and the ejection of Jesuits everywhere, began to mirror this progress. Even Habsburg Austria, a traditional bulkhead of conservative Catholicism, was moving quickly towards tolerance of different religious faiths in the last decades of the eighteenth century. The result was that by the end of the eighteenth century the vast majority of European countries, Protestant and Catholic, were on the road to tolerance on questions of religion. This change was for both philosophical and practical reasons. The movement towards tolerance ended up being the strongest in the revolutions of America and France, with the latter almost becoming anti-conventional religion during the early period of its revolt.

3.

Ideologies of the Enlightenment

The second trend that was different to the past, the rise of ideological reasons, was the antithesis of the absolute monarchies of the past. This meant that people increasingly gained control of the powers around them. The country which started this trend in the second half of the eighteenth century was England with its Glorious Revolution. With this, the English, soon to become the British, feared that their King James II, was trying to turn their land into something which was completely intolerable – namely an absolute monarchy based in Catholicism. The reaction created a constitutional (and Protestant) monarchy, which was tightly tethered and beholden to a populace which had consented to their rule via elections and a parliament with clear rules and checks upon the sovereign. This was a revolutionary doctrine. Even more so was the idea that citizens could hold rights of their own accord and possess protections against the power of the state. From habeas corpus to the evolution of a free press and free speech, the English example would be the stepping-stone for the epochdefining revolutions in both America and France in decades to come. This model, where the consent of the people became the crux of the matter, where rights became attached to citizens, and monarchs (if required at all) became tightly regulated, was

the river that turned into the oceans of the American and French revolutions. The American Revolution is somewhat of a twofold paradox. First, the death toll of the War of American Independence, which gave rise to the most powerful nation on earth, was surprisingly small. Second, the people who fought for independence were, at that point, some of the freest people on the planet, under the governance of the most benign constitutional monarchy in power. Unlike so many others who lived under various forms of autocratic government, the colonies in America had, by far, greater liberties than most, especially in terms of religious tolerance, freedom of speech, and a quickly emerging free press. These liberties combined with their emerging sense of self identity and a growing realisation that these people (and the word ‘people’ is critical here) could govern themselves. The actual sparks for the American War of Independence were about two considerations. The first was that populations need to either consent to taxes, or at least, have representation in the bodies that make those taxes. Second was that, wherever possible, matters of local importance – from the administration of justice through to the determination of how to deal with different neighbours (ie, Native Americans) – should not be decided by London. Following the British over-reaction to these demands, the American revolution caught fire. Then, with the help of others, especially France, they were able to achieve independence, and clearly articulate what they had been fighting for. This was then recorded in their laws which created the liberty for their citizens (their Bill of Rights) and the political organisation (their Constitution) for governance that they desired. The French Revolution followed next. This was the culmination of the radical thinking of the period which was much more extreme than its cousins of both the Glorious and American revolutions. The cause of the French Revolution was the absolutism of the French monarchy. This meant that their political system was unable to adapt to meet both the pressing economic demands upon it, and the expectations of the populace that they were entitled to liberty, equality and fraternity. The Bourbon monarchy in Versailles was incompatible with these goals. The rebels were deeply inspired by the War of American Independence, which the French had directly supported. The difference between the two revolutions was that the one in France was not in a distant colony, that their king was directly attached to their land, and that the French were willing to be more radical than the Americans against their own citizens, their own king, and the spread of their ideology. What began with the philosophies of the Enlightenment ended with the power of Napoleon. The trigger was the execution of Louis XIV, following his failed attempt to escape. In the wars that followed, as the European powers descended upon the young Republic to prevent the spread of ‘anarchy’, the forces of the French Revolution responded in unimagined ways. First, they carried out unprecedented attacks against their own citizens to ensure that the Republic was not toppled from within, before turning to fight their external enemies. In so doing, they battled a mass of enemies who were skilfully defeated, and broken off, one at a time. With each victory in taken lands, republics modelled on the French experiment were set up. The threat that type of ideology represented to every form of monarchy, absolute or tethered, was existential. By the end of the 1790s, for a short period, Britain alone stood against France. Then, when the alliance against revolutionary France regalvanised, the goal was no longer about extinguishing the revolution and its ideology, but

rather, simply returning France to the borders it possessed in 1792. The last justification of war in terms of Enlightenment values involved revolts, and then wars, against slavery. Although the institution of slavery was growing quickly, warfare, as a justification to end slavery, should have been the easiest case to defend during the period covered by this book. Slavery was the absolute antithesis of any ideals of equality, liberty and freedom – the centrifuge that the Enlightenment spun around from the middle of the eighteenth century. However, despite this obvious truth, freedom from slavery did not come through reason or peaceful developments. Rather, the history of the period shows examples of where slaves took matters into their own hands, with Haiti being the exemplar, as the only instance where the cause of war, was their freedom from slavery. The point to note is that this action was domestic. These people were not freed by the actions of others, nor the soft humanitarian impulses that were beginning to develop in many European countries. Even the foremost revolutions of the period, such as that of America, distinctly looked the other way to avoid the full length of what equality should look like. The French only came to end slavery begrudgingly, and then when Napoleon was in power, tried to turn the clock backwards. The final area to consider in terms of the influence of the Enlightenment on war was in the development of grand plans to end conflict. As it was, during 1650 and 1800, there was an impressive growth in the theory of international relations and, importantly, in terms of schemes that were designed to prevent future wars. Although none of these schemes changed the world at this point, they did lay the seeds for what international governance would look like in the future. In terms of sequence, these theories went from the very pessimistic views of Hobbes to the practical suggestions for types of European collectives, as sketched out by Penn, Leibniz, and Saint-Pierre. Rousseau and Voltaire would put the brakes on such ideas, emphasising the wider need for social change before such regional institutions could be established. The last scholars of note to make a mark in this area were Bentham and Kant. These scholars made large leaps. For these men, it was not just about powerful regional institutions. They added the importance of considerations of the regulation of military forces, colonies and trade. Kant agreed with many of these ideas, but added the importance of equality between countries in terms of political structures. He also added that republics (and not absolute sovereigns) were the only way that a confederated system could be created.

4.

The Muslim Territories

With the Muslim world, the story between the years 1650 and 1800, is one of decline. This was a remarkable event. In 1650, the power of the Muslim world was massive. The Ottoman Empire covered a huge area of land. The Safavid Dynasty was powerful and projecting its strength in all directions. The Mughals ruled most of India and their control was increasing. However, by the year 1800, all three were in reverse. The Ottomans began the second half of the seventeenth century much as they had in the past, making peace and making war, and keeping their enemies divided. This allowed them to

finally take Crete and make advances, either directly or via proxies, into the hinterlands of both Poland-Lithuania and the Habsburg lands in Hungary. This pattern could have continued had they not tried to capture Vienna, which triggered an unprecedented response, as multiple western nations (as allies and volunteers) collectively, pushed back against the Ottomans. This momentum, with the Austrian Habsburgs at the core, supplemented by Russia, PolandLithuania, Venice and several smaller areas who began a push-back against the Ottoman advances, was unprecedented. It only slowed towards the end of the seventeenth century, when the members of the alliance began to fade due to more pressing conflicts in the western world. Although there was a respite in the 1710s and again in the 1730s, in the following decades, the tide, again, turned fully against the Ottomans. Three decades of conflict from the late 1760s, with Russia as the main protagonist, and Habsburg Austria, redrawing the maps of Europe. The tangible result was that the Crimea went from being under Ottoman control, to independent, to being under Russian control. Similarly, Georgia, slipped under the wing of the Tsar. This trend came to a full stop when Napoleon invaded Egypt, and the Ottomans, uniquely, found themselves becoming the allies of the very nations that had, until recently, been giving them repeated beatings. The Safavid dynasty, which had ruled in Persia from the 1500s, was gone by the 1800s. The catalyst for its demise was its religious intolerance towards groups in Afghanistan, which returned to invade the country. The invasion encouraged others, such as the Ottomans, to enter in search of rewards. The Russians were a counterweight in support of the established regime, but by the time Nader Shah rose they had lost interest. Nader Shah incessantly battled those who challenged his authority, while making peace and alliances with the Russians, and then, battling the Ottomans. The difference with the latter was that unlike many before him, he repeatedly tried to find a theological middle ground between the Sunni and the Shia which had resulted in centuries in warfare. While he was willing to compromise in this area, Istanbul was not. Undeterred, Nader Shah continued to push outwards, conquering Afghanistan and then, remarkably, Mughal India. In the end, it was his own bodyguards who destroyed this remarkable leader and set into motion a process which would sap the power of this land, as it transitioned from the Zand to the Qajar dynasties. With each switch, although the importance of religion was echoed, the frontier lands would get chipped away by both the Ottomans and the Russians. Nader’s victory over Mughal India was in large part possible because the land had lost its political coherence following the advances of Aurangzeb. He conquered a huge area of land, but was incredibly intolerant, from which rebellions brewed against him. The result was that the sons of Aurangzeb held an increasingly shrinking pool of power and, when Nader Shah struck, a surprising lack of allies turned out to help and defend the land. Post-Nader, strong, largely independent regional bodies (often with different faiths) started to proliferate in India. In this land of counterweights, the Europeans saw opportunity, as what were originally restrictive trading relationships turned into mutually beneficial liberal military alliances. These alliances, which often mirrored the wider European conflicts in the world, slowly saw Britain rise to the fore.

5.

China and Asia

With Asia, the beginning period of this book overlaps with the formation of the Qing Empire of China. To eclipse one dynasty and replace it with another requires a vast amount of blood. This was the case in China, although the amount of blood that was spilt in internal conflicts dropped considerably as the seventeenth century ended and the regime became more peaceful, inclusive and galvanised against external enemies. Its internal strength was achieved by a more encompassing ideology that existed under the Ming. This meant widening the circles of social inclusion beyond the traditional Han favouritism. A smoother empire, with better laws, less corruption, more food and a new and cohesive national identity, all helped in this solidification. The result was that by the end of the eighteenth century, the Qing Empire was easily as powerful as anything elsewhere in the world. The external strength saw the Qing increasingly, gain control over several areas. This was most evident with Taiwan (in the seventeenth century) and a number of populations Mongolian and Muslim tribes (in the eighteenth century) which had their autonomy stripped away following military campaigns. This pacification in the interior territories was possible as Russia and China, from the late seventeenth century, started to make treaties of peace and cooperation. These reflected a relationship between equals. The peace treaties here were not just about trading privileges. Critically, they divided the territories between themselves. Those stuck in what was previously a hinterland, were now subject to the control of either Russia or China. Korea was kept in a close vassal relationship and Tibet, also, became increasingly part of the Qing world. Japan was kept at arm’s length, while Siam, Burma and Vietnam all experienced Chinese intervention, but could not be folded into the Qing realm. In addition to resisting the power of Qing China, many of these regions were also beginning to engage in new relationships with European nations. That is, while some of these countries in Asia (especially China, Japan and Korea) strictly controlled European interests, other countries (such as Siam and Vietnam) worked in the opposite direction. The authorities there were more liberal in that they were willing to grant greater privileges to Europeans than their other Asian neighbors. This approach was due to the benefits that European military (and not just trade) alliances could bring to them at that point in time. They were, however, opening doors that would lead to decades of conflicts in the centuries ahead.

Index abolitionist movement (Britain), here–here absolute power, Louis XIV’s exercise of, here–here absolutism, Catherine II’s approach to, here–here Acadia Nova Scotia and the Ohio Valley, pre-Seven Years War events, here–here Acts: Administration of Justice 1774, here Alien 1798 (US), here Aliens Enemies 179 (US), here Attainder, of 1689, here Banishment 1697 (Ireland), here Blasphemy 1698, here Boston Port 1774, here Catholic Relief 1778, (Ireland), here Catholic Relief 1791, here Combination 1799, here Corporation 1661, here Coventicle 1664, here Declaratory 1689, here Declaratory 1719, here Declaratory 1766, here Disarming 1715, here Disenfranchising 1727 (Ireland), here Education 1695 (Ireland), here Five Mile 1665, here–here Fugitive Slave 1793 (US), here Government of Massachusetts 1774 (US), here–here Gradual Abolition of Slavery in Pennsylvania, for the 1780 (US), here Habeas Corpus 1679, here Illegal Oaths 1797, here Insurrection 1796 (Ireland), here Jewish Naturalisation 1753, here Licencing 1643, lapse of (1694), here Licencing 1737, here Master and Servant 1661 (Barbados), here Meeting of Parliament 1694, here Molasses 1733, here Naturalisation 1798 (US), here Navigation 1651, here–here Peace of Westminster, under, here–here trade, effect on, here Occasional Conformity 1711, here Papist 1778, here Popery 1698, here Prevent the Growth of Popery, to, (1704 and 1709), here Protestant Religion and Presbyterian Church 1707, here Quaker 1662, here

Quartering 1765, here, here Quebec 1774, here, here, here reaction to, here–here Registration 1704 (Ireland), here Revenue 1767, here Riot 1714, here Schism 1714, here Seclusion, of 1654, here Sedition 1798 (US), here Settlement, of 1662, here, here Settlement, of 1701, here, here Slave Trade 1788, here Stamp 1712, here Stamp 1765, here–here cancellation of, here–here Stamp 1797, here Sugar 1764, here–here Tea 1773, here–here colonists’ opposition to, here–here effects of, here–here Test 1673 (amended 1678): annulment of, here James II refuses to adhere to, here, here Toleration 1689, here Triennial Parliaments 1664, here, here amended 1694, here Uniformity (1662), here Union, of 1707, here–here Unlawful Societies 1799, here Workhouse 1723, here Afghans: Ottomans, relationship with, here Persia, expelled from, here–here Ahmed III, Sultan: Charles XII’s sanctuary with, here peace treaties negotiated, here–here peaceful resolution of disputed areas (1703 and 1705), here Albazin (Russia), demolition and sieges of, here–here Alexis, Tsar, agreement with Khmelnytsky, (1654), here Algiers’ conflict with Spain, here–here American Revolution and slavery, here–here Andrusovo peace treaty (1667 and 1686), here–here end of, here–here Anglo-Austrian Alliance, here Anglo-Dutch forces in War of Spanish Succession, here–here Anglo-Dutch wars see First Anglo-Dutch War; Second Anglo-Dutch War Anglo-Prussian Convention (1758), here Anglo-Spanish peace 1667–70, here Anna Leopoldovna, Tsarina: Austrian War of Succession, during, here Austro-Russian and Ottoman War, declares, here Anna Loannovna, Tsarina, here Anti-Prussian alliance, here–here British reaction to, here Apafi, Michael, here, here, here

Arouet, François-Marie see Voltaire Articles of Confederation (1777), here Asia, Europeans in, here–here Augustus II (Poland-Lithuania) deposed by Polish Sejm, here–here Augustus III (Poland-Lithuania) in War of Polish Succession, here–here Austria: alliance with Britain, moves away from, here armistice at Leoben, (1797), here France and (1758 and 1792), here, here French military action and (1795, 1797 and 1799), here, here, here, here–here League of Armed Neutrality, joins, here, here Quadruple Alliance, leaves, here religious intolerance in (1651), here Russia and, alliance between (1789), here Austria and Spain: alliance between, here reconciliation (1725), here–here Austrian Netherlands: Brabant Revolution and, here–here France invades (1792), here French action in (1746), here War of Austrian Succession, invasion in, here Austro-Russian and Ottoman War (1735–9), here–here declaration of war, here ‘balance of Europe’ (Treaty of Vienna, 1731), here–here Bastille, storming of the, here Batavian Revolution and United Provinces, here–here battles, of or at: Almanza (1707), here–here Beaumont-en-Cambresis (1794), here Blenheim (1704), here–here Boyne, the (1690), here Bunker Hill (1775), here–here Buxar (1764), here Cape Finisterre (1747), here–here Cape of Saint Vincent (1797), here, here Chotusitz (1742), here Culloden (1746), here Elixheim (1705), here Fleurus (1794), here Groska (1739), here Hennersdorf (1745), here Hochstadt (1703), here Hohenfriedberg (1745), here Jaomodo (1696), here Karkuk (1733), here Kars (1745), here Leilan (1733), here Martinique (1780), here Matapan (1717 and 1718), here Neresheim (1796), here Oinousses Islands (1695), here Orenburg (1772), here Panipat (1761), here

Peterwardein (1716), here Piacenza (1746), here Plassey (1757), here, here Porto Praya (1781), here Prague (1757), here Ramillies (1706), here Saint Gotthard (1664), here Slankamen (1691), here Tourcoing (1794), here Tournai (1794), here Trincomalee (1782), here Turin (1706), here Turnhout (1789), here–here Ushant (1778), here Valmy (1792), here Vinegar Hill (1798), here Walcourt (1689), here Wandiwash/Vandavasi (1760), here Yeghevard (1735), here Zenta (1697), here peace treaties following, here Bill of Rights 1689, here, here Bill of Rights (US) 1791, here ‘Black Hole of Calcutta’, here Bohemia, invasion of by Frederick II, here–here Bonaparte, Napoleon, here, here–here Alexandria, capture of, here Council of Ancients/Elders, speaks to (1799), here French Republic, saving of, here–here invasion of Egypt, here military action (1796), here, here Order of the Knights of Malta conquered by (1798), here–here Ottoman Empire declares war on (1798), here–here Venice, military action in, here–here bonded labour, here Boston Tea Party (1763), here Brabant Revolution and Austrian Netherlands, here–here Brandenburg: French alliance with, here, here United Provinces, alliance with, here Brandenburg-Prussia, religious tolerance in, here–here Brazil, slave revolts in, here Brissot, Jacques Pierre on war here–here Britain: action against France in India and North America, here–here, here–here attack on Spain (Cartagena) (1741), here Austria withdraws from alliance with, here bilateral treaty with Russia, here Caribbean victories over the French, here Catholic rights in, here China, trade with, here France, defeats (1759 and 1760), here–here, here–here French and Spanish declaration of war against, here French constitutional reform, support for, here French defeat of in India, here

French invasion of foiled, here French National Convention declares war on (1793), here French revolutionary ideas censored, here–here Jewish people coming to, here Landgrave of Hesse, deal made with (1755), here–here Minorca, defence of (1756), here–here naval battles with France and Spain (1780), here Ottoman Empire’s military alliance with, here pre-Revolution France, views on, here pre-Seven Years War events, here–here Seven Years War, after, here–here 1758 military campaigns, here–here 1783 peace treaties with France, Spain and United Provinces, here–here Sicilies, alliance with (1798), here–here social discontent of poor in, here–here Spain, war with, here Spain and Peace of Paris terms, here–here Spain declares war on, here–here Treaty of Aix-La-Chapelle (1748), reaction to, here Treaty of Westminster (1756) with Prussia, here–here United Provinces, declares war on (1780), here United States, relations with, here–here victories over France in North America (1758), here–here British army, Catholic officers in (1778), here British colonies: British Parliament’s approach to taxing, here–here financial demands on, here–here governors of, here stabilising frontiers of, here British in India, here–here trading links developed, here British overseas dependencies, representative assemblies for, here British Parliament, approach to taxing colonies, here–here British succession, here–here Brunswick Manifesto (1792), here–here Burke, Edmond, lack of support for French Revolution, here–here Canada, Peace of Paris terms for, here–here Caribbean: Nine Years War, in, here Peace of Paris terms for, here Casimir: allies gained, here conflict with Khmelnytsky, here–here truce with (Russia), here casus belli, here Catherine I (Russia), reign of, here–here Catherine II, Tsarina (Catherine the Great), here–here absolutism, approach to, here–here censorship, on, here Poland-Lithuania, troops moved into, here Pugachev, opposition to, here religious tolerance of, here serfdom, views on, here Catherine of Braganza, marriage to Charles ll (1662), here–here

Catholic Church: French Revolution, during, here–here power of reduced by National Assembly (1789), here Catholic countries, religious tolerance of, here Catholic faith, public profession of, here–here Catholic monarchs, discontent over in England, here Catholicism: Cromwell’s views on, here–here Huguenots’ conversion to (France), here Jacobite uprisings and, here religious intolerance and, here–here restoration of in England (1670), here Catholics: Catholic rights in Britain, Ireland and Quebec, here discrimination against, here increase in rights (England, Scotland and Ireland, 1793), here officers in British army can be, here United Provinces, tolerance of in, here Catholics (Ireland): discrimination against, here injustice against, here censorship, Catherine II on, here Central Europe: military action in (1687), here Muslim territories of, here–here Charles I, execution of (1649), here Charles II: concluding remarks on, here–here Declaration of Breda, here early years of restoration, here France, connection with, here Louis XIV, treaties with, here–here marriage to Catherine of Braganza (1662), here–here parliament’s control of, here Portugal, relations with (1662–5), here religious tolerance of, here–here rules without parliamentary oversight, here Charles XII (Sweden): death of (1718), here Denmark, conflict with (1700), here–here Mazeppa, alliance with, here Russian conflict with (1700–4), here sanctuary with Ahmed III, here Charles Albert, King of Bohemia: proclaimed as, here Tsar Peter defeats (1708), here–here China, here–here Britain, trade with, here Dutch and, here Europeans and, here–here introduction, here Japan, relations with, here missionaries in, here–here Russia, relations with, here–here trade expansion and restriction, here–here

Vietnam, defeats and invades, here–here warfare in, here Christianity: Japan, in, here–here Korea and, here–here Cisalpine Republic, recognition of, here Clarendon Code (1661–5), here Code Noir (1685), here–here Committee of Public Safety (France, 1793), here, here Common Sense (Paine, 1776), here–here Declaration of Independence, influence on, here–here Commonwealth of Poland-Lithuania, end of, here–here Concord (War of American Independence), here Constitution of Saint Dominique (1801), here Constitution of the United States (1787), here–here constitutional monarchy (UK), here–here legislation for, here Montesquieu’s enthusiasm for, here–here Convention of Kloster-Zeven (1757), here British denunciation of, here–here Convention of Pardo (1739), here Convention of Peace, Commerce and Navigation (US and France, 1800), here Convention of Turin (1742), here Coronation Oath (William and Mary), here Council of Five Hundred, directors replaced (1797), here Council of the Ancients/Elders, Bonaparte speaks to, here counter-revolutionary action in French Republic, here–here military action of, here Crete: campaign by Ottomans against (1645–69), here–here capture by Ottomans (1669), here Crimea: demands for return to Ottomans, here–here Russian occupation of, here war in (1782), here Cromwell, Oliver: Catholicism, view of, here–here concluding remarks, here death of (1658), here Lord Protector, elected as, here Louis XIV’s treaty with, here religious tolerance of, here–here Republic of, here–here Cromwell, Richard, Lord Protector becomes, here cult of the Supreme Being (1794), here Custom House protest (1770), here de la Mettrie, Julian Offray, here de Secondat, Charles-Louis see Montesquieu de Vattel, Emer, here, here–here Declaration against the French King in Favour of the Poor Protestants (Peter the Great), here Declaration and Resolves (1774), here Declaration by the Duke of Monmouth, here Declaration from the King to the French People (1791), here–here

Declaration of Breda (1660), here, here Declaration of Independence (1776), here–here Common Sense, influence of on, here–here grievances listed in, here slaves excluded from, here Declaration of Indulgence (1672), here–here Declaration of Indulgence (1687), here Declaration of Pillnitz (1791), here Declaration of Reichenbach (1790), here Declaration of Right (1689), here Declaration of Rights and Duties of the Citizen (France, 1795), here Declaration of the Causes and Necessity of Taking Up Arms (1775), here Declaration of the Hague (1688), here, here Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen (1789), here–here rejection of, here Declaration of Verona (1795), here–here democracy, Rousseau on, here Denmark: Charles XII’s conflict with (1700), here–here Russia, relationship with, here Second Northern War rulers, here Sweden, conflict with (1658), here ‘devolution’, legal theory of, Louis XIV’s use of, here d’Holbach, Paul-Henry Thiry, here Diderot, Denis, here–here, here, here freedom of speech, on, here Diet, European, Saint Pierre’s, here–here Directory, the, (Council of Five Hundred), here, here, here, here, here Discourse on Inequality (Rousseau), here Doroshenko, Petro (Cossack leader), here Dutch and Siam and China, here, here Dutch Republic: allies of in war of France and England against, here–here English aggression against (1670), here Dzungars (tribe), here–here Qianlong Emperor campaign against, here–here Yongzheng Emperor’s demands on, here east Georgia, Russian control of (1801), here East India Company, here East Prussia, Russian victory in (1757), here–here Eastern Europe: Ottoman conflicts in, here–here religion as pretext for war in, here–here Eastern Mediterranean (Muslim territories), naval battles for, here–here Edict of Fraternity (1792), here–here Edicts of Nantes (1598, 1629), revocation of, here, here Edict of Toleration (1787), here Egypt: French military action against (1799), here invasion of see invasion of Egypt trade agreements made (1775 and 1785), here Elector for Cologne, succession of (1688), here Elizabeth Petrovna, Tsarina, here Austrian War of Succession, during, here–here

Emancipation Decree (1793), here Encyclopedie (Diderot), here enfranchisement, development of, here–here England: Catholic takeover of, here–here freedom of expression, Diderot on, here North African treaties with, here religious tolerance in, here–here Spain, relations with, here–here United Provinces, war declared on by, here–here England and France, here–here, here war between in India, here–here English colonists, Native Americans, relations with, here–here English Parliament, religious intolerance of, here Enlightenment, here–here aspects of, here social change and, here values as justification of war, here witch-hunting, decline of in, here Estates General (1789), here–here composition and formation of, here–here Europe: Peace of Paris terms and, here pre-Seven Years War events, here war in (Nine Years War), here–here War of Spanish Succession, in, here–here Europeans: Asia, in, here–here China, and, here–here Japan, and, here–here Korea, and, here–here Siam, and, here–here Exclusion Bills (1679), here–here Family Compact (1733), here First Anglo-Dutch War (1652–4), here–here action of, here–here peace settlement, here–here reasons for, here–here First Coalition against France (1793), here concluding comments, here establishment of, here fragmentation of, here–here First Continental Congress (Philadelphia, 1774), here First Estate (France), here Estates General, in, here First Northern War, here–here autonomy, quest for, here–here peace treaties after, here–here regional conflict, becomes, here–here First Partition of Poland, here–here declarations and treaties for, here–here territorial changes under, here–here France: alliances against in War of Spanish Inheritance, here

American privateers, assistance to, here–here Austria and (1758 and 1792), here, here Austrian Netherlands and (1746 and 1792), here, here Britain and (1746, 1756–9), here, here–here, here–here, here–here censorship ceases, here Charles II’s connection with, here civil rights (1789), here–here constitutional reform, British support for, here England, relations with, here–here England and, war between in India, here–here England becomes enemy of, here French declaration of war on Austria and Saxony (1733), here–here French throne independent from Spanish throne, here–here Hanover, difficulty of holding (1759), here–here invasion of Britain foiled, here isolation of (1793), here Jay Treaty, view on, here military defeats and success (1793), here–here Minorca, conquers (1756), here–here monarchy abolished (1792), here National Convention, here–here naval battle with Britain (1780), here naval failures (1744–7), here neutrality agreement with Tuscany, here Ottoman Empire declares war on, (1798), here–here Paul I’s war with, here popular tribunals, here right of remonstrance, here Russian support withdrawn from, here Second Anglo-Dutch War, entry into, here–here 1758 military campaigns, here–here 1783 peace treaty with Britain, here–here slavery in, here–here Spain supports (1762), here Spain to be independent from (1701), here Special Chamber of ‘Reunion’, here stability re-established (1794), here–here Terror, the, here–here, here, here Treaty of Aix-La-Chapelle, reaction to, here Treaty of Breda and, here Tuscany, neutrality agreement with, here United Provinces, action in (1672, 1746), here, here United States and, here–here United States treaties of alliance (1778), here–here victories over Britain in North America (1758), here–here Franco-Bavarian occupation, here–here Franco-Dutch War: conflicts of, here–here expansion of, here–here Frederick II (‘the Great’) (Prussia), here–here battles fought in 1760, here Bohemia, invasion of, here–here final victories of Seven Years War, here–here Maria Theresa and (1745), here, here–here Prussia, defeats in (1761), here

Prussian victories (1757), here Silesia, justification for invading, here freedom of speech: development of, here Diderot on, here Voltaire on, here freedom of the press, development of, here French-Spanish-Prussian alliance (1745), here–here French: Siam, and, here Vietnam, and, here French Constitutions (1791, 1795, 1799), here, here–here, here French electoral system, 1795 changes, here French Enlightenment, writers of, here–here French military action: American Independence, War of, in, here–here Austria, and (1795–7 and 1799), here, here, here, here–here Egypt, against (1799), here Ireland, in, here–here Mantua, in, here–here Neapolitans, attack on (1798), here Netherlands, against (1799), here–here Rome, in, (1797), here–here Switzerland, in, (1798, 1799), here, here Vietnam, and, here French monarchy, alliances and treaties made (1650s), here–here French National Convention: Britain and Spain, war declared on by (1793), here–here levee en masse decreed (1793), here French parliament, 1795 changes, here French peace negotiations in papal areas, here French Republic: Bonaparte tries to save, here–here Constitution (1795), here military success (1794), here–here Naples declares war on, here French Revolution, here–here Burke’s lack of support for, here–here cause of, here coup (1797), here–here introduction, here philosophers’ influence on, here–here pre-Revolution, Britain’s views on, here religion in, here–here slavery and, here–here wars of, here–here, here–here French succession, here–here Fundamental Constitution of the Carolinas (1669), here Galdan (tribal leader), here–here George I, qualifications to reign, here Gibraltar, Spanish blockade of (1779), here Glencoe massacre (1692), here Glorious Revolution (England), here–here causes of, here–here

international consequences and politics of invasion of, here–here introduction, here invasion of England, here–here invitation to William and Mary, here liberty, establishes, here–here Louis XIV’s views on, here–here religious tolerance of, here–here Grand Alliance, here Nine Years War, in (1689), here–here Second (1702), here Grant between France and the Mahrattas (1742), here Great Britain, Protestant line of Hanover preserved in, here–here Great Peace of Montreal (1701), here–here Gustav III (Sweden), assassination of (1792), here Gyatso, Tsangyang (Dalai Lama), here Habsburg Empire, Ottoman threat to, here Habsburg succession, here–here Habsburgs, Ottoman conflicts with (1716), here–here Haiti: independence proclaimed (1804), here non-whites, franchise of, here slaves’ freedom gained in, here–here Hanover, France’s difficulty of holding (1759), here–here Hobbes, Thomas, here–here, here slavery, on, here Holy League (1684), here–here military success of, here Holy Roman Empire: Peace of Ryswick (1678, 1697), under, here–here peace treaty with Ottomans (1699), here serf revolts, here–here Hotak, Mahmud (Sunni leader), here, here House of Commons, composition of (early 18th century), here House of Lords, reinstatement of, here Huguenots: Catholicism, conversion to, here edicts against, here–here intolerance against, here Louis XIV’s actions against, here–here religious tolerance, on, here Hume, David, on slavery, here Hungarian Diet, Maria Theresa’s appeal to (1741), here Husayn, Shah: abdication of, (1722), here Peter the Great, help requested from, here ideologies, growth of, here–here indentured labour, here–here working conditions, here–here India: British in, here–here increased British action against French in (1757), here–here Nine Years War in, here Peace of Paris terms, here

pre-Seven Years War events, here inter-marriage allowed in China, here international affairs, US engagement in, here–here international law, slavery in, here international relations theory, here–here Bentham on, here–here Hobbes on, here–here introduction, here Kant on, here–here Leibniz on, here Penn on, here–here Rousseau on, here–here Saint-Pierre, abbé de, on, here–here Vattel on, here–here Voltaire on, here Wolff on, here–here interregnum, here–here introduction, here invasion of Egypt by France (1798), here–here justification of, here–here Napoleon Bonaparte, led by, here Ireland: armed uprising (1798), here Catholic rights in, here emancipation demands on population, here French military action in, here–here Great Britain united with (1800), here James II settles in, here Protestant governance of, here–here religious discrimination in, here religious intolerance in, here, here religious tolerance in, here–here Irish Parliament, eligibility to sit in, here–here Iroquois Confederacy, here Istanbul declares war on Persia, here–here Italy and Italian Front: French military action against (1795 and 1796), here–here French Republic military success (1794), here invasion by French-Sardinian forces, here territory transfer under Treaty of Aix-La-Chapelle (1748), here War of Austrian Succession, in, here, here–here, here War of Spanish Succession, importance of in, here–here Jacobite rebellion (1715), here–here Jacobite uprising (1745), here–here Catholicism and, here goal of, here Ja’fari mazhab (1746), here, here–here Jahan: Dara, battle with Aurangzeb (brother), here–here Shah, here Jahan, Aurangzeb: Dara (brother), battle with, here–here death of, here religious purity of, here–here

territorial expansion under, here James II: Catholicism, conversion to (1668), here denunciation of, here English population, alienation of, here religious tolerance of, here–here, here–here settlement in Ireland, here Japan: China, relations with, here Christianity in, here–here Europeans and, here–here ideologies in, here Jenkins Ear, War of, here–here, here cause of, here declaration of war (1739), here Jesuits, persecution of (1758–), here–here Jewish people: Brandenburg-Prussia, tolerance in, here–here Britain, coming to, here Cromwell’s tolerance towards, here equality for granted (France, 1791), here tolerance extended to (Russia), here United Provinces, tolerance of in, here Jinchuan, Emperor Qianlong’s campaigns against (1747–9), here Joseph II: religious tolerance of, here serfdom, reform of by, here–here justice, Penn on, here Kamenets (town), siege of, here–here Kangxi Emperor, here–here internal enemies of, here Kant, Immanuel, here, here, here–here, here Khmelnytsky, Bohdan: agreement with Tsar Alexis (1654), here Cossack uprising led by, here–here Khojas campaign by Emperor Qianlong, here–here Klein-Schnellendorf Agreement (1741), here Korea: Christianity and, here–here Europeans and, here–here Qing treatment of, here Koxinga (maritime hero), here–here Landgraviate of Hesse-Kassel, peace with French Republic (1795), here Landgrave of Hesse, deal with Britain (1755), here–here Last Testament of Carlos II, here–here ‘Lasting Peace in Europe’ (1722 declaration), here League of Armed Neutrality, here–here League of Augsburg (1686), here–here legal equality, Rousseau on, here–here Leibniz, Gottfried, here, here, here, here–here, here Leopold I, Holy Roman Emperor: Glorious Revolution, non-intervention in, here marriage to Margaret Theresa of Spain, here

military success of, here Rakoczi’s offer of loyalty to, here–here treaty with Louis XIV (1668), here Leopold II: French uprising, views on, here–here negotiations with rebels, here Leszczyński, Stanisław (Polish Sejm leader), here, here War of Polish Succession, in, here–here Letter Concerning Toleration (Locke), here levee en masse decreed (French National Convention, 1793), here Leviathan (Hobbes, 1651), here–here, here–here liberty, Glorious Revolution establishes, here–here Livonia and Estonia, Tsar Peter conquers, here Locke, John, here–here slavery, on, here Lord Protector (England), Oliver Cromwell elected as, here Louis XIV, here–here absolute power of, here–here alliances made (1660s), here Charles II, treaties with, here–here concluding comments, here Cromwell, treaty with, here Estates, relationship with, here–here Glorious Revolution, views on, here–here Leopold I, treaty with (1668), here marriage to Maria Theresa of Spain, here parlements, views of on, here–here religious intolerance, here–here, here Spain and, here–here wars of, here–here Louis XV, here–here assassination attempt (1757), here death of, here parlement of Paris, exiled by, here–here Louis XVI, here escape from Paris, here Estates General (1789), here–here parlement, relationship with, here revolutionary government, alliance against, here taxation and, here trial and execution of, here–here Louverture, Toussaint, here forced labour laws, introduces, here imprisonment and death of (1803), here–here Macandal, Francois (rebel slave), here Mahmud I, Sultan, war against Persia, here–here Manifesto of Silence (1763), here Mantua, French military action in, here–here Maratha War, British involvement in, here–here Marathas, the, here, here, here–here Margaret Theresa of Spain, marriage to Leopold I (1663), here Maria Theresa, Archduchess of Austria, here Frederick II and, (1741, 1745), here, here–here Hungarian Diet, appeal to (1741), here

Maria Theresa, Holy Roman Empress: division of Poland-Lithuania, on, here serfs, measures protecting, here Maria Theresa of Spain, marriage to Louis XIV, here Marie Antoinette, Queen, execution of, here Marmontel, Jean-François, here Mazeppa, Ivan, alliance with Charles XII, here Mehmet IV, Sultan, here–here political actions of, here Vienna, desire for, here Metacom (Native American chief), here–here military campaign against, here Ming: social remodelling of, here–here submission of to Qing, here–here Minorca, France conquers (1756), here–here missionaries in China, here–here monarchs and monarchies: Diderot on, here interests of as causes of war, here–here Monck, George, here Montesquieu, here–here, here constitutional monarchy (UK), enthusiasm for, here–here slavery, on, here Mughal India: decline of, here Nader Shah attacks, here–here Muhammad ibn Abd-al-Wahhab, here–here Muhammad Shah, Nader Shah attacks, here–here Muslim territories, here–here Mustafa II, Sultan, naval battles (1695), here Mustafa III, Sultan, Russian-Ottoman conflict, in, here–here Myanmar campaign by Qianlong Emperor (1765–70), here–here Mysore Wars (1768–99), here, here, here Nader Shah, here assassination of, here Muhammad Shah, attack on, here–here Ottomans, battles with, here–here, here–here Shia practices, banning of, here Naples declares war on French Republic (1798), here National Assembly (France), here–here Catholic Church’s power reduced by (1789), here ecclesiastical matters, involvement in, here Louis XVI’s reaction to, here–here origin of, here Native Americans: clashes with colonists, here–here English colonists’ relations with, here–here pro-British, treaties protecting, here–here naval battles of Matapan (1717 and 1718), here Neapolitans, French attack on (1798), here Nelson, Horatio, defeat of French fleet (1798), here Nepal, Tibet attacked by, here Netherlands, French military action against (1799), here–here

Neustadt Protocol (1741), here neutrality agreement between Tuscany and France, here New England, Nine Years War action in, here Nine Years War, here–here battle of Fleurus (1690), here battle of the Boyne (1690), here Caribbean, in, here Grand Alliance in (1689), here–here India, in, here North America, in, here religion not part of the conflict, here–here 1691 events, here–here 1692 events, here–here 1694 events, here summary of, here war in Europe, here–here non-Muslims, restrictions on religious practice, here–here North Africa, peace and trade treaties made in 18th century, here–here North America: English colonists, relations with, here–here increased British action against French in (1757), here increased violence in (1756), here pre-Seven Years War events, here Northwest Ordinance (1787), here, here, here Northwestern Indian War (1790–5), here–here oath of allegiance, clergy and Pope and (France, 1791), here ‘Old Believers’ (Orthodox Russia), persecution of, here Olive Branch Petition (Second Continental Congress, 1775), here Orange Order, formation of (1793), here Order of the Knights of Malta, Napoleon Bonaparte’s conquest of (1798), here–here Ottoman conflicts: Eastern Europe, in, here Habsburgs, with (1716), here–here Russia, with (1710–11), here–here Venetians, with (1715), here–here Ottoman Empire, here–here Britain, military alliance with (1799), here changes in 1650–1800, here civil war in, here geographical extent of, here Russia and, here, here–here war on France declared by (1798), here–here Ottomans: Afghans, relationship with, here military action against (1688–91), here–here Nader Shah’s battles with, here–here, here–here peace agreements and treaties with (1699), here–here, here–here Peter the Great attacks (1696 and 1711), here–here, here–here Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, peace treaty with (1699), here Russia and Poland-Lithuania, defence against, here trade deals with, here Venetians, conflicts with (1715–), here–here Paine, Thomas, here–here, here, here

papacy, decline of, here papal areas, French peace treaty negotiations, here Paris revolts (1795), here, here parlement of Paris: exile of by Louis XV (1732, 1753), here–here tax for Seven Years War, refusal to implement, here–here parlements (France): Louis XIV’s view of, here–here Louis XVI’s relationship with, here resistance to King’s orders (early 1770’s), here types of, here–here Voltaire’s dislike of, here–here Parliament (England): Bare-Bones (1653), here reconvening of (1660), here reorganisation of under Protectorate, here parliamentary oversight, Charles II rules without, here Parma (Papal territories), transfer of, here Pascal, Blaise, here Pastoralis Romani Pontificis (1741), here Patriarchate (Russia), abolition of (1721), here Paul I, here domestic and international achievements, here war with France, here peace, plans for universal, here–here peace negotiations (War of American Independence), here–here Peace of Aix-La-Chapelle (1748), here, here Peace of Bakhchisaray (1681), here–here Peace of Fussen (1745), here Peace of Hubertusburg (1763), here–here consequences of, here parties to, here Peace of Munster (1648), here Peace of Paris (1763), here–here Canada, terms of for, here–here Caribbean, terms of for, here generally, here Peace of Ryswick (1678, 1697), here–here Peace of Saint-Germain-en-Laye (1679), here Peace of Sistova (1791), here Peace of Vasvar (1664), here, here Peace of Westphalia (1648), here, here Peace of Westminster (1654 and 1674), here–here, here–here Peace Treaty of Kuchuk-Kainardzhi (1774), here–here breach of, here–here Peace Treaty of Kurdan (1746), here Penn, William, here–here, here Pennsylvania, religious tolerance in, here–here Perpetual Peace (Kant 1795), here definitive and preliminary articles, here–here Persia: Afghans expelled from, here–here Istanbul declares war on, here–here Mahmud I’s war with, here–here Peter I, Tsar (Peter the Great) (Russia):

Charles XII of Sweden defeated by (1709), here–here dynastic marriages arranged by, here–here Livonia and Estonia, conquers, here Ottomans attacked by (1696), here–here Poland-Lithuania, settlement with (1717), here Shah Husayn requests help from, here war declared on the Ottomans (1711), here–here Peter III, Tsar (Russia), here death of, here religious tolerance of, here Philip IV (Spain), treaties made with parts of France (1650s), here Philip V (Spain): ‘succession’ concerns and war over, here–here, here–here War of Spanish Succession, enters, here Pius VI, Pope: French Constitution denounced (1791), here Rome, leaves, here Plan for a Universal and Perpetual Peace (Bentham, 1789), here Poland: Augustus III, after, here–here First Partition of see First Partition of Poland Russian influence on, here–here Poland-Lithuania: division of (1768–), here–here Prussia and (1764, 1791), here, here Rakoczi’s conflict in, here religion as pretext for war, here–here Russian military action in, here–here Second Northern War, in, here, here–here settlement with Tsar Peter (1717), here 1791 Constitution annulled, here Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth: Ottoman protection for, here peace treaty with Ottomans (1699), here survival of, here–here territory of taken by Sweden, here–here Polish Succession, here–here Augustus III becomes King, here French declaration of war on Austria and Saxony (1733), here–here Poltava (Ukraine), Charles XII of Sweden attack on (1709), here–here Pondicherry, siege of, here Poniatowski, Stanilaus (King of Poland), abdication of, here Popish Plot (1678–81), here popular uprisings: Austrian Netherlands, in, here–here France, in, here–here United Provinces, in, here–here Portugal: Charles II’s relations with (1662–5), here League of Armed Neutrality, joins (1782), here slave trading, in, here Spain invades (1762), here supply of slaves from the Congo, here ‘Pragmatic Army’: formation of (1742), here

Western Europe, in, here–here Pragmatic Sanction (1713), here–here, here–here, here Bourbon objections to, here France accepts, here War of Austrian Succession and, here–here printing presses, regulation of, here private worship, tolerance for, here Privy Council (1784), Indian Affairs controlled by, here Project for Perpetual Peace, Saint Pierre, here Protectorate (England, 1653), here Protestant succession in Britain (1701), here Prussia, here acts of surrender by Prussian troops, here–here defeats by Russia (1759), here international politics and, here military pressure applied to, here–here Poland-Lithuania and (1764, 1791), here, here Russian alliance with (1764), here 1758 military campaigns, here–here Treaty of Westminster (1756) with Britain, here–here Prussians, Austrians fight at Lobositz, here Pufendorf, Samuel, on slavery, here Pugachev, Yemelyan, here–here Catherine II’s opposition to, here death of, here revolt of, here–here Qajar dynasty, here Qianlong Emperor (1735–96), here–here campaigns and achievements of reign, here–here Jinchuan, campaign against (1747–9), here Myanmar campaign by, here–here Qing Empire: conquest of China by, here–here expansion of, here ideology of, here–here Ming’s submission to, here–here rise of, here social re-modelling of Ming, here–here Taiwan, gains possession of, here–here Quadruple Alliance (1716), here, here Austria leaves, here success of (1745), here Quakers in War of American Independence, here Quebec: Catholic rights in, here pre-Seven Years War events, here–here Rabdan, Tsewang (tribal leader), here, here Rachel, Samuel, on slavery, here Rakoczi, George II (Prince of Transylvania), here Razin, Stenka, (Cossack), here, here Reflections on the Revolution in France (Burke, 1790), here religion, here–here cause of war, as, here

French Revolution, in, here–here introduction, here omission of in major conflicts, here–here War of American Independence, in, here–here religion as pretext for war, here–here Eastern Europe, in, here–here Poland-Lithuania, in, here–here Switzerland, in, here Ukraine, in, here–here religious intolerance: Austria, in (1651), here Catholicism and, here–here France, in, here, here, here, here–here, here, here–here, here Ireland, in, here, here Louis XIV, of, here–here, here Safavid dynasty, of, here, here, here, here Voltaire on, here religious tolerance, here–here Catherine II, by, here Glorious Revolution, influences, here–here James II’s ideas on, here–here spread of, here Tsar Peter III, by, here Tsarina Elizabeth removes, here–here Renewal of the Defensive Alliance (1757), here representative assemblies in British colonies, here–here representative democracy, development of, here–here Republic of France, First Coalition against, here–here republicanism (Voltaire), here definition, here–here republics, here–here exceptions to the rule of monarchy, here Restoration, The (England), here–here religious tolerance in, here–here Reunion Wars, here–here alliances in, here–here breach of truce, here–here French alliances under, here, here Louis XIV’s justification for, here–here Truce of Ratisbon, here Revocation of the Edict of Nantes (1685), here, here–here revolutionary government, Louis XIV’s alliance against, here Revolutionary Tribunal (France, 1793), here–here revolutions: American, here English, here–here French, here–here Rheinland, invasion of, here Riga, siege of (1700), here Robespierre, Maximilien de: execution of, here war, against, here–here Rome: French military action in (1797), here–here republic imposed by France (1798), here–here

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, here–here, here, here democracy, on, here legal equality, on, here–here slavery, on, here Royal African Company, here–here Royal Navy dockyards, Dutch raid on (1667), here Rump Parliament (England, 1648), here Russia: Austria and, alliance between (1789), here bilateral treaty with Britain (1755), here Casimir’s truce with, here Charles XII’s conflict with (1700–4), here China, relations with, here–here Denmark, relationship with, here East Prussia, victory in (1757), here–here French revolutionary ideas censored, here friendship alliances signed (1791), here–here League of Armed Neutrality, joins (1780), here military and diplomatic successes, here–here Ottoman conflict with (1710–11), here–here Ottoman Empire and, here, here–here Poland, influence on, here–here Poland-Lithuania, conflict with see Russia and Poland-Lithuania conflict Poland-Lithuania, military action in, here–here Prussia, alliance with (1764), here religious tolerance in, here–here rulers of (1725–30), here–here Second Northern War rulers, here Seven Years War and, here–here, here Sicilies, alliance with (1798), here–here Sweden, conflicts with (1657 and 1741), here–here, here Sweden invades (1708), here–here Russia and Poland-Lithuania conflict, here–here peace treaty (1667 and 1686), here–here Ottomans, defence against, here Russian-Ottoman conflict, here–here Russian Orthodox religious orders, civil government, part of became, here Ottoman progress (1790), here–here Russian victories (1769–70), here Sultan Mustafa III in, here–here Safavid dynasty: background to, here end of, here–here, here–here religious intolerance of, here, here, here, here Saint Dominique delegation to Paris (1794), here Saint Pierre, abbé Charles de, here–here Saxony, invasion of by Prussia (1756), here–here Scanian war (1675–7), here Scott, James, Duke of Monmouth, here–here Scottish Parliament’s denunciation of James II, here Second Anglo-Dutch War (1664–7), here–here French entry into, here–here reasons for and progress of, here–here Second Coalition against France:

concluding comments, here formation of, here–here Second Continental Congress (Philadelphia, 1775), here initiatives, here Second Estate: Estates General, in, here Louis XIV’s control of, here–here Second Northern War, here–here action of, here–here peace of, here–here Second Partition of Poland, here–here losses and gains of, here–here Sejm (Polish government): Augustus II deposed by, here–here War of Polish Succession, in, here–here self-determination, right to (Diderot), here self-governance and taxation (British colonies), here–here separation of powers, Montesquieu on, here serfdom: Joseph II’s reforms on, here–here rebellions against, here–here Russia, in, here serfs: forced labour in Serbia (1765), here–here generally, here industrial work, excluded from (1762), here Maria Theresa’s measures protecting, here Seven Years War, here–here, here–here Britain after, here–here Frederick II’s victories in, here–here introduction, here losses and gains, here–here participants in, here–here preliminaries, here–here purpose of, here religion not part of the conflict, here–here Russian policy in reversed, here Russia withdraws from (1762), here–here Spain enters (1762), here–here Sweden withdraws from (1762), here Sharp, Granville, legal case against slave master (1772), here Shias: conflict with Sunnis (1717), here Nader Shah bans practices of, here Shunzhi Emperor, here–here Siam: Dutch and French and, here Europeans and, here–here Sicilies, alliances with Russia and Britain (1798), here–here Siege of Namur, here, here Siege of Vienna, here–here events of, here–here Silesia: Glatz and, territory transfer under Treaty of Aix-La-Chapelle (1748), here invasion of by Frederick II, here–here

slave revolts, here–here Brazil, in, here Haiti, in, here–here 1765, up to, here–here slave ships, on, here slave traders, here–here companies of, here slavery and slaves, here–here American Revolution and, here–here debate on (Britain, 1788–92), here–here defence of, here dissent against, here–here illegality of (Britain), here importation of slaves in New World, here–here international law, in, here introduction, here Johann Textor on, here John Locke on, here laws of, here–here legality in Europe, here mortality rates of slaves, here–here numbers of slaves (1650–1800), here New York, slave trading in, here Portugal, in, here, here slave uprisings, British suppression of, here–here slaves join British forces (1775), here supply of slaves, here–here Voltaire on, here war against, here writers on, here–here Sobieski, John (Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth King), military action of, here social change and the Enlightenment, here social contract, (Leibniz), here Social Contract (Rousseau), here social welfare, development of, here–here Societé des Amis des Noirs (1788), here, here Sons of Liberty (New York opposition group), here Sonthonax (Jacobin Commissioner), here–here southern colonies (US) approach to slaves, here sovereignty, Dutch fear loss of, here Spain: Algiers’ conflict with, here–here American rebels, assistance to, here–here Americans, contact with, here Austria, alliance with (1798), here Britain, war declared on (1743, 1796), here, here–here Britain, war with (1720s), here Britain and, Peace of Paris terms, here–here Britain’s attack on (1741), here Carlos II’s search for successor, here–here colonial uprisings, here–here England, relations with, here–here France, supports (1762), here French National Convention declares war on (1793), here–here independence from France (1701), here, here

Louis XIV’s conflict with, here–here Louis XIV’s treaties to isolate (1656–8), here peace deal for (1718), here Peace of Ryswick, under, here Portugal invaded by (1762), here revolution, possibility of, here–here Seven Years’ War (1762), here–here 1783 peace treaty with Britain, here slavery in, here Treaty of Aix-La-Chapelle, reaction to, here United States, treaty with (1795), here Spain and Austria: alliance between (1798), here reconciliation of, (1725), here–here Spanish Netherlands: Treaty of the Hague, in, here War of Spanish Succession battles in (1706), here Special Assembly of Notables, here–here Spinoza, Baruch, here–here Spirit of Laws (Montesquieu), here Stuart, James Francis Edward, here–here Sunnis, conflict with Shias (1717), here Sweden: Denmark, conflict with (1658), here peace treaties made (1660 and 1661), here Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth territory taken by, here–here Russia, conflict with (1657 and 1741), here–here, here Russia, invasion of (1708), here–here Second Northern War target, is, here–here treaties made by (1654–5), here Switzerland: French military action and (1798 and 1799), here, here religion as pretext for war, here republic imposed by France (1798), here Tacky (slave leader), here–here Tahmasp Qoli Khan, peace offer to Ottomans, here–here Taiji, Fulin, Shunzhi Emperor, here Taiji, Hong, defeats Ming, here Taiwan, here–here European colonists ejected from, here Qing possession, becomes, here–here Taunton, local agreement, here–here taxation: Louis XVI and, here self-governance and (British colonies), here–here Terror, the (France), here–here, here, here Test Acts, here annulment of, here James II flouts, here Textor, Johann, here, here, here theatre, censorship of, here Third Estate (France), here–here Estates General, in, here Louis XIV’s, here–here

Thokoly, Imre, ‘King of Central Hungary’, here, here Tibet: conflict in (1696), here–here Nepal attacks, here Qing treatment of, here selection of Dalai Lama, here Tipu (Mysore), here–here Toleration Patent (Holy Roman Empire, 1781), here trade: England and France, different views on, here Navigation Act 1651 effect on, here–here Treaties: Abo (1743), here Adrianople (1713), here Aix-la-Chapelle (1668), here Aix-la-Chapelle (1748), here–here territory transfer under, here Alliance between Britain and Catalonia (1705), here Alliance Between France and the United States (1778), here Alliance for Settling the Public Peace see Quadruple Alliance Amity and Commerce (1778), here Amity, Commerce and Navigation between Britain and United States (1784), here–here French view on, here Anglo-Russian Subsidy (1755), here Aranjuez (1752), here Aranjuez (1779), here–here Baden (1714), here Barrier (1755), here Basel (First) (1795), here Basel (Second) (1795), here Belgrade (1739), here–here Berlin (1742), here Breda (1667), here–here France and, here terms of, here–here Britain and the United Provinces for securing the Protestant Succession, between (1706), here Campo Formio (1797), here Casco (1678), here Defensive Alliance (1741), here Defensive Alliance (1756), here Dover (1670), here, here–here, here Dresden (1745), here El Escorial/Family Compact (1733), here, here First Partition (1698), here Fontainebleau (1679), here Fontaineblaeu (1743), here–here Fontainebleau (1745), here Fort Greenville (1795), here Fort Stanwix/Six Nations (1784), here–here Friendship (1662), here Georgievsk (1783), here–here Hague, the (1681), here–here Hague, the (1701), here–here Hague, the (1719), here Hague, the (1795), here

Ilbersheim (1704), here–here Istanbul (1700), here Jassy (1791), here Jay (1784), here–here French view on, here Kiakhta (1727), here–here La Jaunaye (1795), here Leeward (1739), here Limerick (1691), here Lisbon (1668), here Lund (1679), here Madrid (1750), here–here Narva (1704), here Nerchinsk (1689), here–here Nijmegen (1678–9), here–here French losses and gains under, here–here Nis (1739), here Nystadt (1721), here Oliva (1660), here–here Paris (1783), here, here–here Peace and Friendship (1668), here Pereyaslav (1654), here Perpetual Alliance between Poland and Sweden (1705), here Perpetual and Defensive Alliance between the Holy Roman Empire and Poland (1683), here Pinkney (1795), here Pruth (1711), here–here Pyrenees, the (1659), here, here–here Rastatt (1714), here Roskilde (1658), here Saint Petersburg (1762), here, here San Ildefenso (1777), here Second Partition (1700), here Settlement of Tipu’s Dominions, the (1799), here Seville (1729), here Stockholm (1719 and 1720), here Szatmar (1711), here Teschen (1779), here Tolentino (1797), here Travendahl (1700), here Turin (1696), here United States and the Wyandot, between (1785), here Utrecht (1713), here–here, here Versailles, (1757), here–here Versailles (1758), here Versailles (1783), here Vienna (1671), here Vienna (1725), here Vienna (1731), here–here Vienna (1738), here–here Westminster (1756), here–here opposition to, here Whitehall (1670), here, here Worms (1743), here Truce of Ratisbon (1684), here, here, here Truce of Zhuravno (1676 and 1679), here

Tulip Period (Ottoman Empire), here, here Tupac rebellion (Peru, 1780), here–here Tuscany, neutrality agreement with France, here Twelver Shi’ism, here, here propagation of, here–here Ukraine, religion as pretext for war, here–here United Irishmen, Society of (illegal secret society), here, here United Provinces, here–here: Batavian Revolution and, here–here Brandenburg, alliance with, here France and (1746), here, here government and political organisation of, here loss of sovereignty feared, here neutrality of (1756), here Peace of Aix-La-Chapelle (1748), here Peace of Ryswick, under, here peace treaty with Britain (1783), here religious tolerance of Catholics, here Second Peace of Westminster (1674) and, here–here United States: Britain, treaty with, here–here France, treaty of alliance with (1778), here–here France and, here–here international affairs, engagement in, here–here Spain, Pinkney Treaty with (1795), here Utopia, concept of, here–here Vasa, John II Casimir see Casimir Venice: conflicts with Ottomans (1714–), here–here Napoleon’s military action in (1797), here–here peace treaty with Ottomans (1699), here Verdun, fall of, (1792), here Versailles, invasion of, here–here Vietnam: China and, here–here French military action and, here internal conflict, here Virginia, slavery law in, here Voltaire: freedom of speech, on, here parlements, dislike of, here–here religious intolerance of, here republicanism, on, here slavery, on, here social change, here war as evil, on, here war: evil, as (Voltaire), here French Revolution (1791), wars of, here–here, here–here inevitability of, here prevention of, here religion as pretext for see religion as pretext for war Rousseau on, here

slavery, against, here state of nature, as (Hobbes), here–here War of American Independence, here–here American attempt to annexe Canada, here American victories and defeats (1776–7), here–here Britain, European and Native American forces assist, here British naval battles (1781 and 1782), here–here catalysts for, here, here France’s entry into, here–here governmental authority (British), rebellion against, here–here introduction, here military engagements (1778–80), here–here, here–here Patriot victories (1777 and 1781), here, here peace negotiations, here–here religion in, here–here Saratoga, victory at (1777), here Spain enters, here–here start of hostilities (1775), here–here state of revolt declared, here trade with America, here–here war ends at Yorktown (1781), here War of Austrian Succession, here–here, here–here aims of participants, here–here introduction, here Italy, based in, here Pragmatic Sanction and, here–here War of Bavarian Succession, here War of France and England against Dutch Republic, here–here action in, here Dutch Republic’s allies support in, here–here England declares war on United Provinces, here–here Mons, French attack on, (1678), here planning and reasons for, here–here United Provinces isolated by Louis XIV, here War of Polish Succession, here–here War of Spanish Inheritance, here–here action of, here–here justification for, here Spanish alliances end, here War of Spanish Succession, here–here allies’ advances (1709–12), here–here avoidance of, plans for, here–here Carlos II’s death’s influence on Louis XIV, here–here commerce, effect on, here–here Europe, in, here–here Grand Alliance successes, here inevitability of war, here–here Italy’s importance in, here–here Louis XIV’s refusal to sue for peace (1709), here–here religion not part of the conflict, here summary of, here territory exchanges, here–here War of the Quadruple Alliance, here–here background, here–here start of hostilities, here–here

warfare: China, in, here Enlightenment’s effect on, here global, here ideological and religious causes of, here–here Wars of North and Eastern Europe, here–here introduction, here see also First Northern War; Second Northern War Washington, George, US President, view of foreign engagements, here William II, Prince of Orange: loyalty to British royal family, here, here William III and Mary: arrival in England, here coronation of, (1689), here–here generally, here invitation to take English throne (1688), here recognition of as monarch of England, Ireland and Scotland by Louis XIV, here William V, unpopularity of, here–here witch-hunting, decline in Enlightenment, here Wolff, Christian, here, here–here Yongzheng Emperor (1722–35), here–here Dzungars, demands on, here objective of reign, here Yorktown, Virginia, siege and surrender of (1781), here Zand dynasty, here–here

HART PUBLISHING Bloomsbury Publishing Plc Kemp House, Chawley Park, Cumnor Hill, Oxford, OX2 9PH, UK 1385 Broadway, New York, NY 10018, USA 29 Earlsfort Terrace, Dublin 2, Ireland HART PUBLISHING, the Hart/Stag logo, BLOOMSBURY and the Diana logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published in Great Britain 2021 Copyright © Alexander Gillespie, 2021 Alexander Gillespie has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as Author of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. While every care has been taken to ensure the accuracy of this work, no responsibility for loss or damage occasioned to any person acting or refraining from action as a result of any statement in it can be accepted by the authors, editors or publishers. All UK Government legislation and other public sector information used in the work is Crown Copyright ©. All House of Lords and House of Commons information used in the work is Parliamentary Copyright ©. This information is reused under the terms of the Open Government Licence v3.0 (http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/doc/ open-government-licence/version/3) except where otherwise stated. All Eur-lex material used in the work is © European Union, http://eur-lex.europa.eu/, 1998–2021. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data Cataloging in Publication Catalog Control Number : 2014397451 ISBN: HB: 978-1-50991-217-9 ePDF: 978-1-50991-218-6 ePub: 978-1-50991-219-3 Typeset by Compuscript Ltd, Shannon To find out more about our authors and books visit www.hartpublishing.co.uk. Here you will find extracts, author information, details of forthcoming events and the option to sign up for our newsletters.