At last the Rebellion succumbed. British ships and British supplies
had done their work, but they failed. And now the day of reckoning
has come,--but with little apparent sense of what is due on the part
of England. Without one soothing word for a friendly power deeply
aggrieved, without a single regret for what Mr. Cobden, in the House of
Commons, called “the cruel losses”[67] inflicted upon us, or for what
Mr. Bright called “aid and comfort to the foulest of all crimes,”[68]
or for what a generous voice from Oxford University denounced as a
“flagrant and maddening wrong,”[69] England simply proposes to submit
the question of liability for individual losses to an anomalous
tribunal where chance plays its part. This is all. Nothing is
admitted, even on this question; no rule for the future is established;
while nothing is said of the indignity to the nation, nor of the
damages to the nation. On an earlier occasion it was otherwise.
There is an unhappy incident in our relations with Great Britain, which
attests how in other days individual losses were only a minor element
in reparation for a wrong received by the nation. You all know from
history how in time of profound peace, and only a few miles outside the
Virginia Capes, the British frigate Leopard fired into the national
frigate Chesapeake, pouring broadside upon broadside, killing three
persons and wounding eighteen, some severely, and then, boarding her,
carried off four others as British subjects. This was in the summer of
1807. The brilliant Mr. Canning, British Minister of Foreign Affairs,
promptly volunteered overtures for an accommodation, by declaring his
Majesty’s readiness to take the whole of the circumstances of the
case into consideration, and “to make reparation for _any alleged
injury to the sovereignty of the United States_, whenever it should be
clearly shown that such injury has been actually sustained and that
such reparation is really due.”[70] Here was a good beginning. There
was to be reparation for an injury to the national sovereignty. After
years of painful negotiation, the British Minister at Washington,
under date of November 1, 1811, offered to the United States three
propositions: first, the disavowal of the unauthorized act; secondly,
the immediate restoration, so far as circumstances would permit, of
the men forcibly taken from the Chesapeake; and, thirdly, a suitable
pecuniary provision for the sufferers in consequence of the attack on
the Chesapeake; concluding with these words:--
“These honorable propositions are made with the sincere desire
that they may prove satisfactory to the Government of the
United States, and I trust they will meet with that amicable
reception which their conciliatory nature entitles them to. I
need scarcely add how cordially I join with you in the wish
that they might prove introductory to a removal of all the
differences depending between our two countries.”[71]
I adduce this historic instance to illustrate partly the different
forms of reparation. Here, of course, was reparation to individuals;
but there was also reparation to the nation, whose sovereignty had been
outraged.
There is another instance, which is not without authority. In 1837 an
armed force from Upper Canada crossed the river just above the Falls of
Niagara, and burned an American vessel, the Caroline, while moored to
the shores of the United States. Mr. Webster, in his negotiation with
Lord Ashburton, characterized this act as “of itself a wrong, and an
offence to the sovereignty and the dignity of the United States, … for
which, to this day, no atonement, or even apology, has been made by her
Majesty’s Government,”[72]--all these words being strictly applicable
to the present case. Lord Ashburton, in reply, after recapitulating
some mitigating circumstances, and expressing a regret “that some
explanation and apology for this occurrence was not immediately made,”
proceeds to say:--
“Her Majesty’s Government earnestly desire that a reciprocal
respect for the independent jurisdiction and authority of
neighboring states may be considered among the first duties of
all Governments; and I have to repeat the assurance of regret
they feel that the event of which I am treating should have
disturbed the harmony they so anxiously wish to maintain with
the American people and Government.”[73]
Here again was reparation for a wrong done to the nation.
Looking at what is due to us on the present occasion, we are brought
again to the conclusion that the satisfaction of individuals whose
ships have been burnt or sunk is only a small part of what we may
justly expect. As in the earlier cases where the national sovereignty
was insulted, there should be an acknowledgment of wrong, or at least
of liability, leaving to the commissioners the assessment of damages
only. The blow inflicted by that fatal Proclamation which insulted our
national sovereignty and struck at our unity as a nation, followed by
broadside upon broadside, driving our commerce from the ocean, was
kindred in character to those earlier blows; and when we consider
that it was in aid of Slavery, it was a blow at Civilization itself.
Besides degrading us and ruining our commerce, its direct and constant
influence was to encourage the Rebellion, and to prolong the war waged
by Slaveholders at such cost of treasure and blood. It was a terrible
mistake, which I cannot doubt that good Englishmen must regret. And
now, in the interest of peace, it is the duty of both sides to find
a remedy, complete, just, and conciliatory, so that the deep sense
of wrong and the detriment to the Republic may be forgotten in that
proper satisfaction which a nation loving justice cannot hesitate to
offer.