William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, one of the most illustrious statesmen of Britain, the son of Robert Pitt of Boconnoc, in Cornwall, born Nov. 15, 1708, and educated at Eton and Oxford.

In 1735 he entered parliament as member for the borough of Old Sarum (the family rotten borough which Governor Pitt had bought with his diamond), Wiltshire and soon attracted notice as a powerful opponent of Walpole. He soon took his place among those Whigs opposed to the long rule of Sir Robert Walpole, who, they claimed, was giving Britain's interests second place to those of the king's. They were denounced with a venom, startling even in an age used to unbridled invective. Walpole's policy of peace was ripped to shreds in words which burnt themselves into the memory "When Trade is at stake it is your last Retrenchment, you must defend it or perish." "Sir, Spain knows the consequences of a war in America. Whoever gains it must prove fatal to her." Such an open avowal bred its own elation for a war of plunder - a war, as Burke afterwards described it, that was to be attended with something more solid than glory. In the end London got its war, but Pitt stayed in the wilderness. George II regarded his remarks on Hanover as unpardonable. In his spare time Pitt spent investigating the comparative commercial statistics of France and England, and in cultivating the merchants of the City against the moment when events should force an entry to the royal closet.

The central problem of foreign policy in eighteenth-century England was that should we be content with a moderate prosperity or risk its loss in a gamble for the of the world? The answer was easy to whose wealth was in land. They wanted peace and a low land-tax. To the enterprising merchant, with a fortune still to win, the answer was equally simple - war and a share in a privateer. But most men's wealth was neither in land nor in trade, but in a mixture of both. The Duke of Bedford, one of the greatest land owners possessed East Indiamen that unloaded at his own docks in Rotherhythe. On the other hand, the great East Anglian merchants, the Turners of Lynn, invested their profits from the wine trade in estates in Norfolk. And for such men of mixed property the answer to the question was far from simple. Their cupidity was riven with doubt either war or peace might bring them the greater gain. Eighteenth century parliaments have been considered quixotic because, although primarily composed of landowners, they embarked on aggressive commercial wars and voted for large increases in the land-tax. This paradox has been explained by endowing eighteenth-century politicians with a capacity to put national needs above private gain. A wiser interpretation would be that many Members of Parliament were incapable of determining their true self-interest. Indeed, it was because of this very uncertainty that Pitt, Earl of Chatham became so powerful a figure in English life.

Pitt himself had no doubts. He believed that England's moral duty was to capture the trade of the world, if need be, by war. It is probable that this conviction was derived from his grandfather, "Diamond" Pitt, a buccaneering East India merchant who began life as an interloper in the Indian trade and finished as the Governor of Fort St. George at Madras. His wealth and success were the result of risks resolutely and aggressively taken. A hard-headed, hard-fisted pioneer of trade, he knew that in the East enormous fortunes were to be won, and could be won easily, if English merchants were backed by force from home. He was also aware that Englishmen were not alone in this race for trade and wealth. The French were our rivals, and the prize was so great there could be no compromise. War alone could decide. These were to be the deepest convictions of Pitt's life. This preoccupation with questions of trade is the key to his policy; but equally important for an understanding of his career is an appreciation of the strangeness of his character.

Pitt quickly gained a reputation with attacks on Walpole and the king, after 'Walpole's resignation in 1742 there were those who grouped themselves around the Prince of Wales, and looked forward to better things in the next reign, this hope was frustrated by the Prince's death in 1751. Pitt condemned the new ministry for its handling of the War of the Austrian Succession, scathingly critical of the pouring of money into the protection of Hanover to the neglect of the war against France. " It is now apparent," he told the House of Commons, "that this great, this powerful, this formidable Kingdom is considered only as a province of a despicable electorate," Pitt's ardent patriotism won him great popularity among the British. The merchants of the City of London were particularly keen on him. Their signs, like his own, were fixed on the growing empire overseas.

In 1746 in spite of the king's dislike Pitt was powerful enough to win a place in the administration, the king was prevailed upon to give Pitt, whom he naturally loathed, the post of Paymaster to the forces. By tradition this job entitled its holder to various gifts and commissions, all of which Pitt refused, living modestly on the basic salary.

For the next nine years, through occasional shifts in the government, Pitt continued as Paymaster. He married Lady Hester Grenville when he was 46. The marriage was to tie him even more closely to this politically influential family, as well as bring him personal happiness. He spent twenty years in and out of office, first as vice-treasurer of Ireland, and afterwards as paymaster general. His early career was a curious mixture of threats and apologies for, ironically enough, he was called on now and then to defend the King's Hanoverian interests.

In 1756 he became secretary of state and real head of the government.

Dismissed in 1757 on account of his opposition to the king's Hanoverian policy, but no stable administration could be formed without him, and be returned to power the same year, in conjunction with the Duke of Newcastle, who was to provide both the parliamentary majority and the cash to pay for the war, of which Chatham was to have the sole direction. For the next four years, British arms enjoyed a series of victories unprecedented since the days of Marlborough. It was under this administration and entirely under the inspiration of Pitt that Britain rose to a plane amongst the nations she had not before occupied. By 1761, Wolfe and Clive, both stimulated and supported in their great designs by Pitt, won Canada and India from the French, and the support the Great Commoner gave Frederick of Prussia contributed not a little to the destruction of French predominance in Europe.

A monopoly of the world's, trade was within our grasp. No prime minister, until very recent times, has achieved so much in so short a time. His success has been variously explained by inspiration, by his gift of selecting courageous and resourceful men, by revolutionary strategy. Certainly, Pitt inspired Wolfe and the others who merited his regard; but his strategy was far from revolutionary, except in its range and the thoroughness of its application.

Throughout the eighteenth century, a school thought, largely Tory, had considered that England should avoid using large armies in Europe, but should subsidize our allies, and confine our military activity to small scale continental raids. It was argued that her main force should be concentrated in the navy, to be used to deny her enemy overseas trade. This policy had tremendous advantages for England. She had little or no surplus manpower to draw on for military purposes and by European standards her army was weak and inefficient, 'whereas her vast shipping resources could be readily utilized in naval warfare. But the argument which attracted most support for his policy was that the capture of the enemy's trade could be made to pay for the war and to show a profit. Of that Chatham was convinced. For years he had studied this question in consultation with his city friends, Cumming, Beckford, Vaughan, Hollis and others. As soon as be was in power he put this policy into force. In 1746, he had come to the conclusion that the capture of Quebec would mean the capture of the valuable fur and fish trade from France. In 1759 Wolfe's expedition proved him right. Similarly he mounted attacks on Dakar (Goree) in order to wrest the gum trade from France, and, as soon as it was won, ordered explorations of the interior, and promptly set up a Committee of the Board of Trade to determine whether the retention of Senegal would be commercially profitable. But his greatest coup was the capture of the sugar islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe. The attacks on these islands made some of his city friends apprehensive, for fear that their possession would lead to a sugar glut and a fall in price. Pitt thought a glut impossible. He was right. Within two years of its capture Guadeloupe was producing twice as much sugar; the expedition had been paid for and a handsome profit shown. As his Guildhall monument proudly boasts, Pitt increased the wealth of his country "by commerce, for the first time, united with and made to flourish by war." This was the true aim of the "blue water policy " - maritime strength translated into trade and wealth and power. It was no part of his policy to acquire an Empire in the sense of vast colonial possessions; islands and forts at strategic focal points of trade were desirable but not more, unless necessity compelled it, as in Canada.

The accession of George III. brought lord Bute into power, and Pitt, disagreeing with Bute, resigned in 1761.

Chatham's war was a triumph which intoxicated, leading him to call for the destruction of Spain as well as France. London was with him, but the government refused to follow. George III had no love for his grandfather's ministers or for their policy. He secured half-hearted support from Newcastle, who hated the mounting cost of war and was haunted by the growing fear, particularly amongst the landowners, that such fabulous triumphs must inevitably unite the whole of Europe against us. That Pitt could have viewed with equanimity, but few others shared his faith or his vision. He was obliged to resign. All the arguments of common sense were against him: any peace would bring down taxes; a reasonable treaty, with large returns of captured property, might bring a lasting peace, and years of plenty and security. This was a siren's song that gained eager attention, for England had suffered more than twenty years of war. Pitt knew it was a dream, an illusion: that France, even generously treated, would still scheme to regain her empire and her trade.

War was again brewing in 1756, and Pitt resumed his criticism of the Continent-centered foreign policy that had so dismally failed in the previous war. He was dismissed from his job for his pains. When war broke out between Britain and France, the weakness of the government became apparent. The Mediterranean island of Minorca was lost through ineptitude in Westminster a public outcry resulted, and a new ministry was formed, with Pitt as Secretary of State. Once in office, Pitt surprised everyone by continuing subsidies to Hanover and to Frederick II of Prussia, who was fighting an alliance of France, Austria, and Russia. But he realized that the defeat of France overseas - his primary object-depended partly on keeping it busy in Europe. In recent years the French had become very powerful in India and North America. They now controlled the Great Lakes and were constantly extending their possessions. Pitt countered the French threat with an intensive, aggressive use of naval power. The British Navy blockaded the French coast, captured several French colonies in West Africa, the West Indies, and gave support to the East India Company in India. Pitt especially concentrated on the campaign in North America, and showered detailed directives on his newly appointed commanding officers. One of these, General James Wolfe, led a daring night advance up the heights of the city of Quebec, and on the following day defeated the French in a 15 minute battle.

By the next year, 1760, Britain had conquered Canada. In that same year the old king died and his grandson George III came to the throne. Pitt soon found himself at odds with the new monarch and with his chief advisor, the Earl of Bute. Both seemed bent on ending the war as soon as possible. Differences over the conduct of the war and the peace negotiations led Pitt to resign in 1761. From 1761 onwards, Chatham was the most formidable statesman in opposition to the Crown, for his popularity in the City bordered on idolatry,

In December 1762, in the most forceful speech of his career, he damned the Treaty of Paris which George III and his ministers were eager to sign. All, or nearly all, that he had won was returned. We retain nothing," cried Chatham, "although we have conquered everything," and in words which afterwards seemed prophetic he phrased the principles which had guided his policy. "France is chiefly, if not solely, to be dreaded by us in the light of a maritime and commercial power and therefore by restoring to her all the valuable West India Islands, and by our concessions in the Newfoundland fishery, we have given her the means of recovering her prodigious losses and of becoming once more formidable to us at sea."

Of course, he was right; by the Peace of Paris, signed in 1763, France regained several of its former possessions and kept its fishing rights in Canada and as soon as we were in difficulties with the American colonies, France attacked.

Pitt had had his finest hour, but he remained in politics, the art of political maneuvering was never his forte. He was frequently ill with the gout and with manic - depressive phases, referred to as "gout in the head." He strongly advocated conciliatory measures towards the colonies.

In 1766, George III. asked him to form a new government. But the ministry was not a success, his health grew steadily worse;

From time to time throughout his later life, Pitt was insane during nearly the whole of his second period of office, he suffered acutely from manic-depression. Periods of intense exhilaration, almost of ecstasy, combined with an immense sense of power, would be followed by prolonged fits of abject despair in which contact with other human beings would be intolerable. During these times all work was impossible. He isolated himself in his room, and his meals were pushed through a hatch. But such an affliction was not all loss ; it often gave a frenzy, an urgency, a sense of destiny to his utterances which had an hypnotic effect on his audiences. Apart from his madness, Chatham was a difficult character. Except within his own family circle, he lacked all bonhomie. He was stilted, affected, given to gestures of irritating ostentation, as when he rode about London in a one-home chaise to mark his poverty, after being dismissed by Walpole from his army commission. He was all that the convivial, intimate political world of the eighteenth century found difficult to assimilate. The Grenvilles were glad to use him as a bogey with which to threaten George II and Newcastle ; but even they never relished working with him. Yet his very defects in the private world of politics were virtues in the eyes of the public. The ostentatious purity of his public life - he refused the usual perquisites as Paymaster-General of the Forces - combined as it was with a theatrical truculence and independence, endeared him to the hearts of those who felt that English politics were corrupt and despicable. The idol of the middle-class, the "Great Commoner," he was the first politician who both demanded and used the approbation of the public to further his own political ends. This public notoriety and esteem allowed him a freedom of action and expression which would have been denied him had his power rested solely on a parliamentary faction. His position was further strengthened because, although nouveau riche, he was not a parvenu like Wilkes or Canning; he was an accepted member of aristocratic society, tied to it by marriage and by blood, and could not easily be excluded from the authority that his talents and social standing demanded.

In 1768 he resigned, going to the House of lords as Earl of Chatham.Yet when national tribulation called him out of his retreat, he never failed to make his appearance in Parliament. His principal work become his appeals for a conciliatory policy towards the colonies. Then, sick and wasted as he was, his utterances acquired supernatural force and an oracular wisdom. His most important interventions were in the great causes of Wilkes and America. It was Wilkes' truculent denunciation of the Treaty of Paris in No. 45 of the North Briton that had led to his quarrel over general warrants with the government and subsequently with Parliament over the Middlesex election. Although Wilkes could in some ways be regarded as a martyr of Chatham's own cause, and although he had the complete support of the City of London, Chatham was nevertheless circumspect in his attitude; for he had the highest regard for the sovereignty of the Crown in Parliament. He thought the actions of the Commons inexpedient, but he did not regard them as illegal. It was only when the Commons ordered the deletion of a judicial decision of a court of record of the City of London that Chatham's fury was fully unleashed. This act, he denounced as the act of a mob not a parliament; and his withering criticism helped to put an end to the persecution of Wilkes by the Commons.

It was the cause of America which called forth his greatest efforts. The same principles upon which he had formed his attitude to allies throughout his career are apparent in his American policy. He recognized at once that the fundamental issue was commercial and not constitutional.

		America, he said," was the fountain of our wealth, the source of our strength, the nursery and basis of our naval power" and "she has been the great support this country; she has produced millions; she afforded soldiers and sailors ; she has given our manufacturers employment and enriched merchants." In order to preserve this fountain of wealth Chatham was prepared to any lengths of compromise, short of independent sovereignty. He conceded that Britain had every right to regulate America's trade and commerce, but he knew that to do was folly and he was prepared to make any concession and even allow America to tax itself long as she remained a pan of the empire. He dreaded independence and hated the war. But his advice was disregarded, and the colonies declared themselves independent in 1776. "The colonies," he told the Commons in 1777, "were too great an object to be grasped but in the arms of affection." And he saw that victory would be meaningless. "If you conquer them, what then?
Chatham with his gout-crutch

You cannot make them respect you; you cannot make them buy your cloth." Yet the prospect of defeat was a nightmare which haunted his dying days, for American independence must, he thought, enrich France. He believed America too poor, and too untrained in the arts of government, to escape the tutelage of a great power - and if not Britain's, then France's was inevitable. And such a contingency must ruin England commercially. Nor was Chatham's a lonely voice.

All the great trading towns believed as he believed, and that is why there was so much reluctance to support the war. At the end of a great speech against the Stamp Act, the merchants of London trading to America removed the horses from his coach and dragged him home. They were not moved by the abstract principles of liberty, but by the prospect of economic ruin. Chatham might rise to great heights of moral fervour in his perorations, but the principles of his policy were based four-square on profit and loss.

And yet - herein lies his greatness - his attitude to empire was not entirely rapacious. There was too much darkness in his own life for him not to have sympathy with shame and humiliation. He detested the corrupt tyranny of the East India Company in Bengal and denounced it roundly. Wealth, success, victory had their obligations, their moral responsibilities; of this he was always conscious, and it gave a loftiness to his oratory which a call for mere aggression, no matter how fervid, could never have achieved. Similarly, his support of Wilkes and of America had a moral quality. He believed in liberty, not in economic or social liberty, but in liberty for men, accepting the circumstances of their time, to have life on their own terms, free from the arbitrary interference of government. An attitude of heart and mind which always drew a quick response in eighteenth-century England.

His death was as dramatic and as theatrical as his life; in April 1778 he made his final appearance in the House of Lords, so ill he could hardly stand, and scarcely able to walk, he struggled to the House of Lords to protest against the government's American policy. The effort killed him, but it was a fitting end to our greatest orator. Chatham died May 11, 1778. He received a public funeral and a magnificent monument in Westminster Abbey.

The character of Chatham was marked by integrity, disinterestedness, and patriotism. With great oratorical gifts and the insight of a great statesman he had liberal and elevated sentiments; but he was haughty and showed too marked a consciousness of his own superiority. Nevertheless his contemporaries were aware of his genius, a man who could create the sense in all who listened to him that he was the mouthpiece of destiny.