Electric Review

HISTORY: How George III lost France
Or, Why Concessions Never Make Sense

Goodbye to the fleurs-de-lys

Whereas it has pleased Almighty God, to call to His Mercy our late Sovereign Lord King George the Second, of Blessed Memory, by whose Decease the Imperial Crowns of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, are Solely and Rightfully come to the High and Mighty Prince George Prince of Wales; We therefore the Lords Spiritual and Temporal of the Realm, being here Assisted with those of His late Majesty's Privy Council, with numbers of other Principal Gentlemen of Quality, with the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Citizens of London, do now hereby, with one Voice and Consent of Tongue and Heart, publish and proclaim, That the High and Mighty Prince George Prince of Wales, is now, by the Death of our late Sovereign, of happy Memory, become Our only lawful and rightful Liege Lord George the Third, by the Grace of God, King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, and so forth: To whom we do acknowledge all Faith and constant Obedience, with all hearty and humble Affection, Beseeching God, by whom Kings and Queens do Reign, to Bless the Royal Prince George the Third with long and happy Years to Reign over us.

Given at the Court at Carleton House, this Twenty Fifth Day of October, 1760.

GOD Save the KING.

— Proclamation of Accession for George III, 1760

Now what can even the meanest intelligence note about that accession proclamation? Nothing stand out? Well in that case, good — for this was the last sovereign to come to the throne with His titles in good working order, and how we came no longer to be in such a state is as sorry a case of appeasement as any in our long history. What's different about George III's accession proclamation, and the one that saw the Prince Regent become king [see below], is that in the former's case, he was King of France too, but not so in the case of the latter. For in between times there had been the foul event of the French Revolution. And to mark this awful anniversary, we should examine how George III came to give up the dignity of France.

As the London Gazette records, His late Majesty King George III came to the throne in the traditional manner:

Whitehall, October 26, 1760. Yesterday in the Morning, between the Hours of Seven and Eight, Our late Most Gracious Sovereign King George the Second was suddenly seized, at his Palace at Kensington, by a violent Disorder, and fell down speechless, and soon expired, notwithstanding all possible Methods used for His Recovery., His Majesty departed this Life in the 77th Year of His Age, and the 34th of His Reign; Beloved, Honoured, and Regretted by His Subjects for His Eminent and Royal Virtues.

Whereupon the Lords of the Privy Council assembling at Carleton House, gave Order for Proclaiming His present Majesty, who made a most gracious Declaration to them, and caused all the Lords and others of the late King's Privy Council, to be sworn of His Majesty's Privy Council.

And this Day, about Noon, His Majesty was proclaimed, first before Saville-House, where the Officers of State, Nobility and Privy Counsellors, were present, with the Officers of Arms, all being on Foot: Then the Officers of Arms, being mounted on Horseback, the like was done at Charing-Cross; within Temple-Bart at the End of Wood-Street in Cheapside; and lastly, at the Royal Exchange, with the usual Solemnities; the Principal Officers of State, a great Number of the Nobility, and of other Persons of Distinction, attending during the whole Ceremony.

So all well and good, but sadly not as far as the Republican regime in France was subsequently to be concerned. Their objection was to the historic styling of British crown as regards France, and the fact that the forth quarter of the royal standard (and therefore the arms of England, and latterly the United Kingdom) contained the French fleurs-de-lys. That assorted crowns of Europe contained really quite imaginary titles (the Kings of Savoy were fond of their conceit also to be Kings of Jerusalem for instance) was par for the ancien regime course.

One story goes that the quarter of France was dropped to satisfy the demands of Napoleon at the peace of Amiens, or "in compliance with one of the articles of the Treaty of Paris". These claims are implausible, not least because the Treaty of Paris dates from 1783, and the Treaty of Amiens was signed in March 1802; neither treaty making any mention of the matter. The claim to the throne of France was, long before the fall of the French monarchy, felt to be an archaicism, even, or perhaps especially in Britain. After 1792 there was no throne of France to pretend to (though Britain had yet to recognize this in international law — it did so with the treaty of Amiens). To add a frisson, the most creditable pretender, the comte de Provence (the future Louis XVIII), was of course living in London at the time.

This version of events hints at what actually happened. In 1797, after the Austrians had signed a peace treaty with France, Great Britain was left without major allies in its war against the revolutionary state, and was tired of the solitary conflict: needing at the very least a definite tactical pause in her struggle. Peace negotiations were begun, during the conference of Lille, from July to October 1797, with Lord Malmesbury as the British negotiator. The internal politics of France, however, were particularly volatile. There were the tensions between those in the five-strong Directory who held a much more radical line than their peers; and then the Directory itself was in conflict with more moderate and peace-inclined parties in the national assembly. As a result, the French negotiators laid down exorbitant demands (including the return of the Channel Islands!) and continually hindered the negotiations by raising time-consuming and insubstantial problems. Eventually, a coup took place in France in October 1797, with the radicals gaining the upper hand, and the negotiations were broken off.

The details of the negotiations were the subject of a debate in the House of Commons in November 1797. From the documents presented to the House by the government, the following, it transpires, took place between the British and the regime. At the beginning of the negotiations, Lord Malmesbury delivered a draft treaty for consideration by the French (July 8). The French returned on July 10 with a number of objections formulated in a note, which included the injunction that:

They [the ministers plenipotentiary of the French Republic] have positive orders to require the renunciation of the title of king of France borne by his Britannic majesty. Lord Malmesbury is requested to observe that the question is not only one of renunciation of the rights which might be pretended to be derived from this title, but further and formally of the title itself. The establishment of the French Republic, and the acknowledgement of this form of government by the king of England, will not allow of his retaining a title which would imply the existence in France of an order of things which is at an end.

Malmesbury's dispatch to Lord Grenville dated July 11th confirms that the French raised this objection:

one of the French plenipotentiaries began, by saying, that in the preamble of the treaty the title of king of France was used; that this title they contended could no longer be insisted on, the abolition of it was in a manner essential to the full acknowledgement of the French Republic, and that as it was merely titular as far as related to his majesty, but quite otherwise in the sense in which it applied to them, he hoped it would not be considered an important concession. . . . . It was to the title, as well as to any right which might be supposed to arise from it, that they objected. I could scarce allow myself to treat this mode of reasoning seriously. I endeavoured to make them feel that it was cavilling for a mere word; that it was creating difficulties where none existed; and that if all the French monarchs in the course of three centuries had allowed this to stand in the preamble of all treaties and transactions between the two countries, I could not conceive, after its having been used for so long a period without any claim or pretension being set forth in consequence of it, how it could now affect either the dignity, security, or importance of the republic–that in fact such titles have ever been considered as indefeasable, and as memorials and records of former greatness, and not as pretensions to present power–and I quoted the titles of the kings of Sardinia and Naples, &c. as examples exactly in point. I argued however in vain. They treated it very gravely, and made so strong a stand upon it, that I could not avoid taking it for reference, which I though it better to do, than feeling as I did at the moment, to push the conversation further.

In his address to the House during the debate of November 1797, William Pitt described in gory detail the course of the negotiations, and wearily alluded to this episode, 'we were to discuss whether his majesty would renounce the title of king of France, a harmless feather, at most, in the crown of England'. At this, Dr. Laurence, an ultra Tory, took exception to such a description, and declared of Pitt's realism that, although

the chancellor of the exchequer had called his majesty's title of king of France, a harmless feather, in my opinion, no ancient dignity, which for so many centuries had shed lustre on the English crown, ought to be considered as a mere light, unsubstantial ornament. It is bound up indissolubly with the honour of the nation. If we suffered that feather to be plucked, one must fear that three other feathers, which were nearly connected with the crown, and were gallantly won in the same glorious wars by which we first asserted the claim of our monarchs to that harmless feather, will soon follow; the crown, and the throne itself, would hardly be secure. A great nation can never safely be disgraced.

Such feelings are echoed in the Annual Register's description of the change of title in its 1801 edition:

In preparation for the legislative union between Great Britain and Ireland, which was to take effect at the beginning of the present year, government adopted several essential measures. The style of the King undergoing a necessary alteration, the opportunity was embraced of resigning that which had been held for so many ages, the glorious attestation of British valour, the title of "King of France." This sacrifice of national pride was not so unimportant as many would represent; it was a concession made to fortunate usurpation, which no legitimate monarch had ventured to insist on, it argued a diminution in the national feeling of self-importance, which was but too consistent with the spirit of the times; yet, circumstanced as the nation was at the period of the making the alteration, it was the most prudent course which could be adopted. The executive directory, feeble and justly contemned as they were, had during the negotiation at Lille insisted on the renunciation, and there was no probability that the consular government, more fortunate and respected, and apparently more firm, would, in any future treaty, omit to make a similar requisition. The nation, desirous of peace, could hardly endure to hear of a protracted war, with all its attendant expences, for the sake of a mere title; and ministers, aware of this fact, acted discreetly in yielding to the evident temper of the times, and making by their own choice, a change which might otherwise have been extorted on the demand of the enemy, reinforced by the clamour of the people.

In the fullness of time, Prinny went the way of all flesh — or as The Times put it:

Whitehall, Jan. 31. On Saturday afternoon, at 35 minutes past 8 o'clock, our late Most Gracious Sovereign King George the Third, whose strength had gradually declined for some weeks, expired without the least apparent suffering, at his Castle of Windsor, in the 82d year of his age and the 60th of his reign. No Sovereign ever possessed in a higher degree the veneration and affection of his subjects, and their grief for his loss is only abated by the unhappy malady which has precluded his Majesty from directing the measures of his Government during the 9 latter years of his glorious reign.

Upon the news of this melancholy event arriving in London, the Lords of the Privy Council assembled yesterday at Carlton-house, and gave orders for proclaiming his present Majesty, who made a most gracious declaration to them, and caused all the Lords and others of the late King's Privy Council, who were then present, to be sworn of his Majesty's Privy Council.

And this day, about noon, his Majesty was proclaimed, first before Carlton-house, where the Officers of State, Nobility, and Privy Counsellors were present, with the Officers of Arms, all being on foot. Then the Officers, being mounted on horseback, the like was done at Charing-cross, within Temple-bar, at the end of Wood-street, in Cheapside, and lastly at the Royal Exchange, with the usual solemnities; the principal officers of State, a great number of the nobility, and of other persons of dfistinction, attending during the whole ceremony.

Which in 1820 meant that the proclamation of accession for George IV was as follows:

Whereas it hath pleased Almighty God to call to his mercy our late Sovereign Lord King George the Third, of blessed memory, by whose decease the Imperial Crown of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland is solely and rightfully come to the high and mighty Prince George, Prince of Wales; we, therefore, the Lords Spiritual and Temporal of this Realm, being here assisted with those of his late Majesty's Privy Council, with numbers of other principal gentlemen of quality, with the Lord-Mayor, Aldermen, and citizens of London, do now hereby, with one voice and consent of tongue and heart, publish and proclaim, that the high and mighty Prince George, Prince of Wales, is now, by the death of our late Sovereign, of happy memory, become our only lawful and rightful Liege Lord George the Fourth, by the Grace of God, King of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Defender of the Faith. To whom we do acknowledge all faith and constant obedience, with all hearty and humble affection, beseeching God, by whom Kings and Queens do reign, to bless the Royal Prince George the Fourth with long and happy years to reign over us.

Given at the Court at Carlton-house, this thirtieth day of January, one thousand eight hundred and twenty.

GOD SAVE THE KING

Never the same again.

Were ERO ever to venture a 'European' policy for the Tory party, perhaps then this should be it: that once more we should recognise Britain's intimate connection to France, and rip those three superfluous English lions from the standard, putting the fleurs-de-lys back where it belongs?

[With thanks to heraldica.org]

Arnold Hubbard, July 14, 2003 08:15 PM