Chapter 2

FOREIGN RELATIONS IN 1862

The outbreak of hostilities between the North and the South was greeted with obvious delight by the majority of public journals, and with thinly veiled satisfaction by many of the public officials of the more important nations of Europe. Russia, indeed, showed a substantial and potent friendship for the United States, and Italy,--where the movement for liberal institutions had already won important victories,--evinced a sympathy both general and genuine. But these were the exceptions. In Austria and the German States the hostile feeling for the American Republic had little effect at the time. The attitude of France and Great Britain was vastly more hurtful.

Napoleon III was then at the very height of his power, and his bizarre performances and dreams of conquest had dazzled the imagination of his countrymen to an extent that it is difficult to realize at this day. Nay, more,--he had cast such a spell over the minds of Her Britannic Majesty's ministers as to have led to a practical allience upon certain important subjects. The French Emperor saw in the disruption of the United States a vindication of his own usurpation and an opportunity to plant an Imperial Government under his own guidance in Mexico. In addition, the shortage of cotton, due to the blockade of Southern ports, was causing very serious distress in the textile districts of France; so there was perhaps one real reason for the Emperor to show some concern in trans-Atlantic affairs, and repeatedly to proffer his unfriendly "friendly offices." However that may be, his suggestion of mediation and intervention did not fall upon deaf ears across the Channel, though, with characteristic caution, the British Government deferred action until its opportunity had passed.

French ill-opinion could have been borne,--even if it had taken the form of countenancing contracts for Confederate ships-of-war and winking at aid and comfort given to the cruisers of that unrecognized power. But British unfriendliness took a form that, short of actual war, could scarcely have done more to harm and exasperate the government and people of the United States. The recognition of the belligerency of the Confederates,--which (candor compels the statement) had much in logic and reason to justify it, however it may have savored of technical irregularity--was but the least of the offendings.

In plain defiance of international law, splendid vessels were built in British yards for the purpose of sweeping the commerce of the United States from the seas; Confederate rifles and cannon were readily procured from British dealers; Confederate loans were floated by British bankers, and over-subscribed by the British public; the sale of shares in British blockade-runners to Confederate ports was an easy matter, as it appealed not only to the cupidity but to the prejudice of the purchaser. All grades of publications,--from the newspapers to the stately reviews,--teemed with abuse of Americans,--abuse written in almost inconceivable ferocity and malice. The humorous organ, _Punch_, did not check its "scurrile jester" in the drawing of most offensive cartoons of the President of the United States; practically the whole of the aristocracy was hostile; in all Parliament but one voice was raised for the North, and that was the voice of John Bright.

While the rancor and venom were expended upon the North, and while that section suffered solely from the violations of international law, it must not be supposed that the British press, patricians, and politicians were actuated by any genuine motives of good will to the South. Their hope and prayer were for the disruption and destruction of the Republic, in which the nobility recognized their most powerful,--however passive,--enemy; and the trading classes thought they saw the ruin of their commercial rival. There was, however, one great element in England that was stanchly on the side of the North throughout the whole conflict; and though it did not possess the franchise, this element was not without its influence. The working classes of the kingdom were able to penetrate the mists that blinded their superiors in station, and they saw from the beginning that, whatever the ostensible purpose, the actual result of Northern triumph would be the end of slavery. It is at once a pathetic and magnificent fact, that no amount of specious argument, such as was frequently addressed to him, that no reflection upon his own sufferings, could win the Lancashire cottonspinner,--starving, because of the shortage in the great staple of his industry,--from the cause of human freedom.

It is, perhaps, too much to say that the British Ministry had always inclined to a recognition of the Confederacy. But as the war progressed and its desperate and extensive character began to be revealed, the project of some action tending to this end was frequently discussed in Downing Street. The British premier at this time was Lord Palmerston, and next in rank to him in the Cabinet was Lord John Russell, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. Practised and polished politicians both, they had been able to adjust their ambitions and predilections in this instance to mutual satisfaction. But a third member of the Ministry, the Chancellor of the Exchequer gave them both great concern. William Ewart Gladstone,--whose genius was then being revealed in full proportion to the English public,--was too able, too popular, and, above all, too formidable to be left out of the Coalition Cabinet. But it is well established that he was regarded with personal dislike and with professional jealousy by his veteran colleagues. This feeling of animosity was to lead to a most singular consequence,--one that had a grave bearing on American affairs.

The stopping by a United States warship of the Royal Mail Steamer _Trent_ in November, 1861, and the removal therefrom of the Confederate envoys, Mason and Slidell, brought the two countries to the brink of war. Only the prompt, complete, and skillful disavowal of the American Government served to avert hostilities, preparations for which had already begun on the part of Great Britain. The temper and disposition of Her Majesty's Ministry were plainly shown in the truculent tone of the demand framed by Russell,--a paper that was adopted by the Cabinet, though Gladstone suggested some modifications. However, it would have been sent as written, had not the Queen, acting on the advice of the Prince Consort, insisted upon a modification of some of the more offensive phrases. Had it not been for this kindly and sagacious interposition of Queen Victoria, the situation might have gone beyond the power of the Lincoln Government to control.

The smothering of the _Trent_ incident in the honey of diplomacy left the Ministry without an immediate and direct pretext for unfriendly action, but there remained a feeling of irritation and a tacit determination to do something when a proper opportunity should occur.

The Confederate successes in the summer of 1862 were convincing proofs to the British mind that the independence of the South was only a matter of time, and discussions of the subject were frequent at the Cabinet meetings. Those were anxious times for the American Minister, Charles Francis Adams, whose personal luggage was kept packed in anticipation of a sudden breach of diplomatic relations which would necessitate his departure from the Court of St. James.

Near the close of the summer, Gladstone wrote to his wife: "Lord Palmerston has come exactly to my mind about some early representations of a friendly kind to America, if we can get France and Russia to join." At about the same time he wrote to another correspondent: "My opinion is that it is vain, and wholly unsustained by precedent, to say that nothing shall be done until parties are desirous of it," and went on to repeat the former suggestion.

About two months later Palmerston wrote to Gladstone saying that he and Russell were agreed that an offer of mediation should be made by Britain, France, and Russia, and that the Ambassador at Paris was to be instructed to communicate with the French Government on the subject. "Of course," he added, "no actual step would be taken without the sanction of the Cabinet."

Lord Russell had but a few days previously written a letter to Palmerston, which had been shown to Gladstone, in which he said: "I agree with you that the time is come for offering mediation to the United States government with a view to the recognition of the independence of the Confederates. I agree further that, in case of failure, we ought ourselves to recognize the Confederate States as an independent State."

With the words of these two letters singing in his mind and mingling with the mental harmonies he himself had conceived, Mr. Gladstone went to Newcastle to partake of a banquet prepared for him by party admirers, and to utter on October 7, 1862, in the course of a general speech, a comment upon American affairs that was to vex him to the end of his life. Said he:

"We know quite well that the people of the North have not yet drunk of the cup,--they are still trying to hold it far from their lips,--which, all the rest of the world see, they, nevertheless, must drink of. We may have our own opinions about slavery; we may be for or against the South; but there is no doubt that Jefferson Davis and other leaders of the South have made an army; they are making, it appears, a navy; and they have made,--what is more than either,--they have made a nation. We may anticipate with certainty the success of the Southern States, so far as their separation from the North is concerned."

It is difficult to exaggerate the profound sensation that this passage in Gladstone's speech made in the United Kingdom, on the Continent, and in the United States. There was no escaping its significance. It meant that the British Government was on the point of recognizing the independence of the South, and such an act must have led to war between Great Britain and the United States. Aware of the sentiment that pervaded the Cabinet, Minister Adams had sought explicit instructions from the United States State Department, which instructions had come in unequivocal terms in a letter from Secretary Seward. Mr. Seward wrote:

"If contrary to our expectations, the British Government, either alone or in combination with any other Government, should acknowledge the insurgents, while you are remaining without further instructions from this Government concerning that event, you will immediately suspend the exercise of your functions.... I have now, in behalf of the United States, and by the authority of their Chief Executive Magistrate, performed an important duty. Its possible consequences have been weighed and its solemnity is therefore felt and freely acknowledged. This duty has brought us to meet and confront the danger of a war with Great Britain and other States allied with the insurgents who are in arms for the overthrow of the American Union. You will perceive that we have approached the contemplation of that crisis with the caution that great reluctance has inspired. But I trust that you will also have perceived that the crisis has not appalled us."

Mr. Adams must have perused this letter many times as he waited for the meeting of the British Ministry,--which he learned had been called for October 23,--to act upon the question of the Civil War in America. Indeed, he had felt a strong impulse to call for his passports immediately after the Gladstone speech at Newcastle, but had concluded to wait a few days for formal action by the government to which he was accredited.

But now conditions and circumstances beyond the ken of diplomacy had conspired to put the inevitable moment indefinitely forward. Whether, as has been suggested, Gladstone, in his Newcastle speech, had intended to force his colleagues into a position the only outlet of which was recognition, or whether knowing their sentiments he had in mere exuberance let the cat out of the bag, he had committed a grave breach of official etiquette in thus speaking without express Cabinet sanction. It was a false move, upon which Palmerston and Russell seized with eagerness and,--it may be imagined,--private glee. Within a week Sir George Cornewall Lewis, a member of the Cabinet, made, at Palmerston's express direction, a public speech in which he adroitly gave the lie to Gladstone. The fateful Cabinet meeting of the 23rd was postponed, and a new proposal of Napoleon III that came at about this time,--a proposal looking to joint mediation or intervention,--was rejected, on the ground that the time was not yet ripe.

The British Ministry kept looking for the auspicious opportunity for several months thereafter. Many thought it had come in the middle of December, when the Fredericksburg disaster was described by the London _Times_ correspondent as "a memorable day to the historian of the Decline and Fall of the American Republic." But on the last day of the year was begun the battle that was to show the British public,--what was sometimes forgotten,--that there were armies outside of Virginia and territories beyond the Alleghanies. Out of the mists which surrounded Stone's River,--out of the uncertainty due to counter-claims of victory by the rival commanders,--arose this definite fact: The Northern Army had occupied the town that it set out to take, and the Southern Army had retired almost to the borders of Tennessee and could not dispute the claim of its enemy to the greater part of the area of that Commonwealth. Another postponement seemed necessary. By this time also the leaven of Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, which at first had been derided, was working in England; and, in their turn and time, Gettysburg and Vicksburg aided to produce a much-changed official atmosphere. The Foreign Minister who, against the law of the Kingdom, had let the _Alabama_ and the _Florida_ slip away to prey upon American commerce, was to strain that law a few months later to hold war-vessels that had been built for the South.

The danger to the Union from foreign sources had passed.