SIR E. HAWKE SAILS TO MINORCA.

The articles of capitulation were no sooner executed, than monsieur de la Galissonniere sailed back to Toulon, with all the prizes which had lain at anchor in the harbour of Matron, since the fort of St. Philip was first invested. In all probability, the safety of himself and his whole squadron was owing to this expeditious retreat; for in a few days after the surrender of the fort, sir Edward Hawke’s fleet, augmented by five ships of the line, which had been sent from England when the first tidings arrived of Minorca’s being invaded, now made its appearance off the island; but by this time Galissonniere was retired, and the English admiral had the mortification to see the French colours flying upon St. Philip’s castle. What, perhaps, chagrined this gallant officer still more, he was not provided with frigates, sloops, and small craft, to cruise round the island and intercept the supplies which were daily sent to the enemy. Had he reached Minorca sooner, he might have discomfited the French squadron; but he could not have raised the siege of St. Philip’s, because the duke de Richelieu had received his reinforcements, and such a train of artillery as no fortification could long withstand. Indeed, if the garrison had been considerably reinforced, and the communication with it opened by sea, the defence would have been protracted, and so many vigorous sallies might have been made, that the assailants would have had cause to repent of their enterprise.

When the news of this conquest was brought to Versailles, by the count of Egmont, whom the duke de Richelieu had dispatched for that purpose, the people of France were transported with the most extravagant joy. Nothing was seen but triumphs and processions, nothing heard but anthems, congratulations, and hyperbolical encomiums upon the conqueror of Minorca, who was celebrated in a thousand poems and studied orations; while the conduct of the English was vilified and ridiculed in ballads, farces, and pasquinades. Nothing more argues the degeneracy of a warlike nation than the pride of such mean triumph, for an advantage, which, in more vigorous times, would scarce have been distinguished by the ceremony of a Te Deum Laudamus. Nor is this childish exultation, that disgraces the laurels of victory, confined to the kingdom of France. Truth obliges us to own, that even the subjects of Great Britain are apt to be elevated by success into an illiberal insolence of self-applause, and contemptuous comparison. This must be condemned as a proof of unmanly arrogance, and absurd self-conceit, by all those who coolly reflect that the events of war generally, if not always, depend upon the genius or misconduct of one individual. The loss of Minorca was severely felt in England, as a national disgrace; but, instead of producing dejection and despondence, it excited an universal clamour of rage and resentment, not only against Mr. Byng, who had retreated from the French squadron; but also in reproach of the administration, which was taxed with having neglected the security of Minorca. Nay, some politicians were inflamed into a suspicion, that this important place had been negatively betrayed into the hands of the enemy, that in case the arms of Great Britain should prosper in other parts of the world, the French king might have some sort of equivalent to restore for the conquests which should be abandoned at the peace. This notion, however, seems to have been conceived from prejudice and party, which now began to appear with the most acrimonious aspect, not only throughout the united kingdoms in general, but even in the sovereign’s councils.