The National Convention voted, at the instigation of Barère, a decree ordaining that henceforth no quarter should be given to either English or Hanoverian soldiers. The Duke of York immediately published an order of the day--dignified and noble: "His Royal Highness foresees the indignation which will naturally be aroused in the minds of the brave troops whom he addresses. He desires to remind them that mercy to the vanquished is the brightest gem in the soldier's character; and to exhort them not to suffer their resentment to lead them to any precipitate act of cruelty, which may sully the reputation they have acquired in the world. The English and Hanoverian armies are not willing to believe that the French nation, even in its present blindness, can so far forget its military instincts as to pay the least attention to a decree as injurious to the troops, as disgraceful to those who voted it." {368} The French army justified this noble confidence. "Kill our prisoners!" said a sergeant, "no, no, not that! Send them all to the Convention, that the representatives may shoot them if they wish; the savages might also eat them, if they chose." Everywhere in Flanders the success of the French arms was brilliant; Brussels was retaken. Nevertheless Corsica revolted and was annexed to Great Britain. Admiral Howe, on the 1st of June, 1794, gained a great victory over the French fleet off the harbor of Brest. The bloody fall of Robespierre and his friends, raised, for a moment, pacific hopes in Europe; but the "war spirit" of France was not yet appeased. General Jourdan drove back the Austrians beyond the Rhine. Pichegru threatened Holland. Mr. Pitt advised placing the entire military force of that country under a single commander; this position was offered to the Duke of Brunswick, who refused it. Upon the entreaties of Mr. Pitt, and much to his regret, George III. recalled the young and inexperienced Duke of York. Before the end of January, 1795, Holland was entirely in the hands of the French, who proclaimed the Republic. The stadtholder had fled to England. The disquietude and agitation were great. Upon the question of war, Wilberforce and his friends had separated themselves from the Cabinet. The general distress in Europe was extreme. The public cry in London, as in Paris, was for Bread, Bread, Bread! Riots took place in many localities; the windows of Mr. Pitt, in Downing street, were broken, and the revolutionary intrigues redoubled their ardor. The Society for Constitutional Information raised its head, and claimed universal suffrage and annual parliaments. Mr. Pitt was troubled; his gloomy forebodings, at times, knew no bounds. "If I resign," said he, one day to Lord Mornington, "in less than six months I will not have a head upon my shoulders." {369}