CASE OF THE FLORIDA: ILLUSTRATED BY PRECEDENTS OF BRITISH SEIZURES IN
NEUTRAL WATERS.
ARTICLES IN THE BOSTON DAILY ADVERTISER, NOVEMBER 29, 1864, AND JANUARY
17, 1865.
The case of the Florida attracted attention at the time, and
aroused the British press. Especially to meet the criticism of
the latter the first of the following articles was written.
Though published in a newspaper anonymously, its authorship was
recognized and acknowledged, and it was reprinted in a pamphlet
by the Young Men’s Republican Union of New York.
The Florida was a Rebel war-steamer, built in England, which
had done damage to our commerce. After capturing and burning
the bark Mondamon off Pernambuco, it arrived at Bahia Bay,
October 5, 1864, where the United States steamer Wachusett,
with Captain Napoleon Collins as commander, was then lying.
The Florida at first anchored in the offing, but, at the
invitation of the Brazilian admiral, came inside in the
midst of the Brazilian fleet, and close under the guns of
the principal fort. At about three o’clock on the morning
of October 7th, the Wachusett slipped her cables, and, with
full head of steam, bore down upon the Rebel war-vessel, one
half of whose officers and crew, including Captain Morris,
were on shore, and the remainder, having just returned, were
in no condition to repel an assault. The officer of the
deck, supposing the collision which he saw imminent merely
accidental, cried out, “You will run into us, if you don’t
look out.” The design of Captain Collins was to strike the
Florida amidships, crush in her side, and send her at once
to the bottom; but this was not accomplished; the Wachusett
struck only the stern, carrying away the mizzen-mast and
main-yard, so that the Rebel vessel was not seriously
injured, but the broken spars fell across the awning over the
hatchway, and thus prevented her crew from getting on deck.
In the confusion that ensued several pistol-shots were fired
from both vessels, at random and without effect. Two of the
Wachusett’s guns were discharged,--by accident, according to
one report, or, as another had it, by order of a lieutenant.
The shots did not strike the Florida. Captain Collins cried
out immediately, “Surrender, or I will blow you out of the
water!” The lieutenant in charge of the Florida replied, “Under
the circumstances I surrender.” In an instant the vessel was
boarded by men from the Wachusett, who made her fast by a
hawser to their own vessel, which at once turned her course
seaward, moving at the top of her speed and towing the Florida
in her wake.
The Wachusett was challenged from the Brazilian fleet, but
there was no reply. The Florida, when commanded to stop,
answered that she was towed by the vessel in front. Shortly
afterward the heavy guns of the fort opened fire. Three shots
passed harmlessly above the pennant of the Wachusett, striking
the water beyond. Two vessels of the Brazilian fleet gave
chase, but soon abandoned it, and the Florida was brought to
Hampton Roads, where it was anchored.
Meanwhile the case passed into diplomacy. Mr. Seward
addressed a note, under date of November 11th, to Mr. Webb,
the minister of the United States at Rio Janeiro, directing
him to say that the Government of the United States was not
indisposed to examine the subject upon its merits carefully,
and to consider whatever questions might arise out of it in a
becoming and friendly spirit, if that spirit was adopted by his
Imperial Majesty’s Government. The Brazilian representative
at Washington, in a note dated December 12th, expressed the
belief that the Government of the United States would give
the explanations and reparation which, in conformity with
international laws, are due to a power that maintains friendly
and pacific relations with it. Mr. Seward, in his reply, dated
December 26th, disallowed the assumption that the Rebels were
“a lawful naval belligerent,” and asserted, that, being still
“destitute of naval forces, ports, and courts,” the ascription
of that character to them by Brazil “is an act of intervention
in derogation of the Law of Nations, and unfriendly and
wrongful, as it is manifestly injurious, to the United States.”
He also disallowed the assumption that the Florida belonged
to the Rebels, and maintained, “on the contrary, that that
vessel, like the Alabama, was a pirate, belonging to no nation
or lawful belligerent.” He added, that it did not belong to
captains of ships-of-war of the United States, acting without
authority, to assert the rights and redress the wrongs of the
country. The captured crew, being unlawfully brought into the
national custody, could not be lawfully subjected here to the
punishment they deserved, and were therefore set at liberty.
Then follows this statement with regard to the vessel: “The
Florida was brought into American waters, and was anchored
under naval surveillance and protection at Hampton Roads. While
awaiting the representation of the Brazilian Government, on
the 28th of November, she sunk, owing to a leak which could
not be seasonably stopped. The leak was at first represented
to have been caused, or at least increased, by a collision
with a war transport.” After stating that there were courts
of inquiry on the subject, he concluded: “In the mean time it
is assumed that the loss of the Florida was a consequence of
some unforeseen accident, which cast no responsibility upon the
United States.”[1] Nothing further occurred in this case.
* * * * *
The _Advertiser_, in a leader on this article, after alluding
to the author as “a gentleman whose position and pursuits have
led him to give great attention to questions of International
Law,” says:--
“We ask attention to his view of the precedents, therefore,
and to the connection which he establishes between them
and the present case, as being both interesting and
instructive, and as deserving no small weight in settling
our views upon this important subject. He makes it clear,
that, whatever Brazil may feel herself called upon to say
in the matter, it does not lie in the mouth of England,
either by her press or her ministry, to intermeddle by
lecturing the United States.… The most embarrassing feature
in the Florida case, however, has been removed within a few
hours by the fortuitous collision of an army transport with
this steamer, in the crowded roadstead at Fortress Monroe.”
Admiral Porter’s despatch reports this incident.
“FORTRESS MONROE, November 28, 1864.
“HON. GIDEON WELLES, _Secretary of the Navy_:--
“I have just received a telegram from the commander of
the prize steamer Florida, informing me that she had
sunk in nine fathoms of water. She had been run into by
an army steamer, and badly damaged. I have not heard the
particulars. I will inform the Department, when I receive
the written report.
“DAVID D. PORTER, _Rear-Admiral_.”
If we may judge from recent English newspapers, there is to be another
cry against us, on account of the Florida, not unlike that on account
of the Trent. One paper says the seizure was “most flagrantly
lawless”; another, that “the precedent will establish a claim to
the right to pursue and destroy every such vessel, whatever may be
the port in which she may seek shelter or supplies”; another, that
“the outrage cannot be permitted to pass unnoticed by other powers”;
and still another, that “events such as these will speedily force
European nations to interfere in the American difficulty for their own
security.” Such are specimens of British criticism, before the facts in
the case have been ascertained in any authentic form, and before our
Government has had opportunity to declare itself on the subject.
The same swiftness occurred in the matter of the Trent. The parallel
will be complete, if Earl Russell sends us a letter of complaint.
As in that remarkable instance, there is the same indifference to
_historic precedents_. I do not refer to cases decided in prize
courts, where the question is of _strict law_, which must prevail,--as
where Sir William Scott decreed restitution of a vessel captured by a
British privateer stationed among the mud islands at the mouth of the
Mississippi, and within the neutral territory of the United States.
I refer to another class of precedents, not to be found in judicial
decisions, but in the history of Great Britain. And as, in the instance
of the Trent, it appeared that this power had for several generations,
under a pretended claim, entered on board foreign ships and forcibly
dragged away persons from the protection of their flag, thus doing
on a large scale what was done by Commodore Wilkes on a very small
scale,--so it appears that this same power, whose newspapers are now
swift to condemn the act of Captain Collins, has for many generations
been in the habit of seizing or destroying vessels in neutral waters.
_Judicial decisions_ exhibit the strict law obligatory on courts.
_Historic precedents_ exhibit the practice of nations, where strict law
is often modified by considerations of necessity or policy. The first,
as a general rule, concern private rights; the second, as a general
rule, concern public rights. The first are questions for the court;
the second are questions for executive deliberation and for diplomacy.
It is needless to add that the case of the Florida is not a case of
private rights. It is an historic incident, destined hereafter to be
a precedent, which will be determined by the executive, and not by
the judiciary. If the Florida were an ordinary private ship, claimed
by private individuals, it would naturally fall under the cognizance
of a prize court. But it is claimed as a public ship, which, as is
well known, is not subject to the jurisdiction of a prize court. Or,
assuming its private character by reason of its piratical origin, there
are questions involved which must ultimately come under the cognizance
of the Executive, and which belong to the history of the country.
Of course, the general principle of International Law applicable to
such an incident is beyond question. It is found in the authoritative
words of the Dutch publicist, Bynkershoek, when he says, “Certainly
it is by no means lawful to attack or take an enemy in the port of
a neutral who is in amity with both parties.”[2] Chancellor Kent,
a great authority, enforces the same principle, when he says, “It
is not lawful to make neutral territory the scene of hostility, or
to attack an enemy while within it.”[3] General Halleck, in his
excellent work on International Law, says: “Hostilities cannot be
lawfully exercised within the territorial jurisdiction of the neutral
state which is the common friend of both parties.” And he follows
this compendious statement with the remark, that “the Government of
the United States has invariably claimed the absolute inviolability
of neutral territory.”[4] As early as 1793, our Government gave its
adhesion to this principle in a case where Great Britain and France
were the hostile parties. The British merchant-ship Grange was captured
in Delaware Bay by a French frigate, and brought into Philadelphia,
to which port she was bound. Mr. Jefferson, in a gossiping letter to
Mr. Monroe, under date of May 5, 1793, says: “Upon her coming into
sight, thousands and thousands of the yeomanry of the city crowded and
covered the wharves. Never before was such a crowd seen there; and when
the British colors were seen reversed, and the French flying above
them, they burst into peals of exultation.”[5] The British minister,
addressing himself at once to our Government, demanded restitution of
the captured vessel, then within our jurisdiction. The French minister
insisted that Delaware Bay was an open sea, so that the original
capture was lawful. _But the ship was restored._ Washington was at
the time President, and Jefferson Secretary of State. It is not known
that there was any appearance in the prize court with reference to the
Grange. It was settled by diplomacy, as will be seen by a formal letter
of the Secretary of State addressed to the French minister, where he
says: “I am charged by the President of the United States to express
to you his expectation, and at the same time his confidence, that you
will be pleased to take immediate and effectual measures for having
the ship Grange and her cargo restored to the British owners, and the
persons taken on board her set at liberty.”[6] The general principle
illustrated by this striking case has been maintained by our Government
ever since. If any reader is curious to see an elaborate vindication of
it, I refer him to a very animated article in the “Boston Gazette” for
1814, transferred to “Niles’s Register,”[7] where the inviolability of
neutral territory is upheld, especially against the open pretensions of
Great Britain.
This general principle may seem at first view conclusive with regard
to the Florida. If this vessel, now lying within the jurisdiction of
the United States, were an ordinary private ship, cognizable in a
prize court, or if it were still within the jurisdiction of Brazil, it
might be so. But it remains to be seen whether there are not decisive
considerations, _distinguishing this case from every other_, which will
justify our Government, while recognizing the violation of Brazilian
territory, and making all proper apologies, _at least in declining any
restitution of the ship_. On this point it is not necessary to express
an opinion. I began by allusion to the reckless judgments of British
journals, tending to excite a cry against our country; and my present
object will be accomplished, if I exhibit those _historic precedents_
which must close the British mouth, whenever it opens to condemn a
capture like that of the Florida.
1. It was in the reign of Queen Elizabeth that England began to contest
the supremacy of the seas; and it was in this same reign that this
domineering power began those pretensions under which neutral rights
of all kinds were set at nought. As early as 1567, Hawkins, fresh
from a slave-trading voyage in the ship “Jesus,” fired at a Spanish
ship in the harbor of Plymouth, and forced her to lower her flag. The
Spanish ambassador said indignantly to Elizabeth: “Your mariners rob my
master’s subjects on the sea; they plunder our people in the streets of
your towns; _they attack our vessels in your very harbors_. I entreat
your Majesty to punish this last outrage at Plymouth, and to preserve
the peace between the two nations.”[8] Elizabeth gave a smooth answer,
and that was all.
2. Not long afterwards Admiral Drake entered the harbor of Cadiz, where
he scattered, sunk, and burned an immense fleet of Spanish transports,
and then did the same thing in the harbor of Lisbon. There were
apologies on the part of Elizabeth; Burleigh wrote a crafty letter;
the Admiral was disavowed; but this was all.[9] Among the ships seized
at Lisbon were no less than sixty belonging to the Hanse Towns. _These
towns vainly demanded their restitution._ Philip of Spain, at that time
sovereign of Portugal, was equally unsuccessful, although, by way of
retaliation, he drove from Lisbon the factors of the Company of English
Merchants.[10]
Such are some of the earliest historic precedents.
3. In similar defiance of unquestionable right, the Dutch East India
fleet, in 1665, which had put into Bergen in Norway, was attacked by
the English in this neutral port. On this outrage Vattel remarks:
“But the Governor of Bergen fired on the assailants, and the Court of
Denmark complained, perhaps too faintly, of an enterprise so injurious
to its dignity and its rights.”[11]
4. Throughout the seventeenth century numerous incidents illustrate
the pretensions of Great Britain; and so also in the next century.
Émérigon, the famous French authority on the Law of Insurance, mentions
one which deserves notice. In 1757, a French bark, La Victoire,
chased by a British privateer, sought refuge in the neutral waters
of Majorca, where she anchored within pistol-shot of the shore. The
British privateer seized the bark, notwithstanding three shots fired
from the castle. A few days later the prize was recaptured by a French
privateer. The original owners of the bark claimed her, on the ground
that her capture was null; but the court of prizes awarded one third to
the recaptor.[12] The learned author fails to record any reparation by
Great Britain.
Advancing to later times, the historic precedents multiply. I pass over
a considerable period, not without examples, and come at once to those
occurring in the protracted war against the French Revolution.
5. War had hardly begun, when, in 1793, the port of Genoa was the
scene of an incident differing from that in Bahia only in its very
aggravating circumstances, and in the bloodshed that ensued. The French
frigate La Modeste was quietly at anchor in this neutral harbor when a
British ship-of-the-line came alongside. Suddenly the British commander
summoned the Frenchman to surrender. On his refusal, the frigate was
boarded, and three hundred of the unarmed crew were massacred. The
frigate was carried to England. Such is the account given by a French
author, who complains bitterly that the British Government did nothing
to punish the outrage. The Genoese Government was powerless; and the
French Convention, in a decree marked by great moderation, proceeded to
release it from all responsibility, although at a later day it appears
to have paid two millions of francs as an indemnity.[13] The reader
curious in dates will not fail to observe that it was in the very year
when the neutrality of Genoa was thus set at defiance that the British
minister in the United States claimed the surrender of a ship seized
by a French frigate in defiance of our neutrality. Such are famous
contradictions of national conduct. A British ship captured by France
in neutral waters was surrendered at the demand of Great Britain; a
French ship captured by Great Britain in neutral waters was hurried off
by the captor as prize of war.
6. The same author who has described the outrage in the harbor of Genoa
adds that Admiral Nelson afterwards carried off another French vessel
in full view of the Genoese batteries.[14]
7. Another instance appears, where Admiral Nelson, in 1798, entered
the neutral port of Leghorn, and seized a fleet of Genoese ships
with rich cargoes. The author who records this outrage makes it “yet
otherwise culpable on account of the high position of the personage,
who, without respect for the independence and dignity of a friendly and
neutral nation, assumed the moral responsibility of it.”[15]
8. The same lawlessness governing British commanders in Leghorn and
Genoa appeared also this side of the Atlantic. In August, 1795, an
audacious attempt was made by the British ship-of-war Africa to seize
the French minister, M. Fauchet, when on his way from New York to
Newport, on board the sloop Peggy, within the waters of the United
States. The sloop was boarded at the entrance of Newport harbor,
and within two miles of the light-house, and the trunks of the
minister were overhauled; but he had already left at an intermediate
port, so that the trespassers were disappointed. M. Fauchet, in a
communication to his successor, M. Adet, says: “I shall express to you
but one afflicting sentiment, which is, that in a free State, with
a government in which England has just acquired a friend, there is
no safety for myself or my papers; for, in a word, as it was from _a
public packet-boat in a neutral port_ that I was to have been carried
off, there is no reason why I should not be taken on the highway or
in an inn, if it could be done with impunity.” Our Government vainly
endeavored to obtain reparation from Great Britain for this outrage,
while France, on her part, mentioned the “impunity” of its authors
among her causes of complaint against us. It is only recently that the
facts of this remarkable case have appeared in a document printed by
order of the Senate.[16] They help swell the present testimony.
9. Taking these instances in the order of time, we come next to
outrages on the coast of Norway. The British frigate Squirrel, on
entering the Norwegian port of Oster-Risoer, in 1801, then belonging
to Denmark, seized a Swedish ship, and put its pilot in irons. Then
coming to anchor, it deliberately captured three other Swedish
vessels, and, sending on shore, kidnapped several pilots. Two or three
days afterwards, a boat from another British man-of-war, the cutter
Achilles, entered the Norwegian port of Egvang, and seized a French
prize at anchor there, while the cutter’s crew fired upon a bark having
on board peaceable inhabitants, wounding one of them. The Danish
Government promptly demanded reparation for these accumulated outrages,
and especially the restitution of the vessels. The British minister,
Lord Hawkesbury, at once declared that the guilty individuals should
receive the strongest marks of disapprobation from his Government, _but
that, with regard to the restitution of the vessels, it was impossible
for him, in the existing circumstances of the two countries, to enter
into any explanation_,--that, if the present misunderstanding should
be amicably adjusted, “these cases would naturally be carried, without
loss of time, _before the regular and impartial tribunals_ established
for the decision of such causes, according to principles of justice
and the Law of Nations.” The Danish minister at once replied, that his
sovereign would never consent that the open violation of his ports
and his territory should become, under any pretext, the subject
of deliberation and decision in any tribunals whatever,--that his
sovereign and territorial rights were assured, and he would not abandon
them. Lord Hawkesbury was moved, in reply, to disapprove the conduct
of the British officers, _and to order the restitution of the Swedish
vessels captured in the port of Oster-Risoer_. At the very moment of
this “incomplete reparation,” as it has been called, Great Britain was
preparing her first expedition against Copenhagen.[17]
10. The same French author, who, in ardor for neutral rights, has
exposed the conduct of Great Britain, mentions the instance of an
English frigate, in 1803, which, after capturing a Swedish vessel in a
Norwegian port, entered the neutral port of Bergen, where her commander
attempted to seize a Dutch vessel and two French privateers. These
three vessels were saved by crawling, with permission of the Governor,
under the guns of the fortress; but the attempt was a violation of the
neutral waters of Bergen, which passed without reparation.[18]
11. M. de Cussy also mentions, that, during this same year, a British
man-of-war insulted a French vessel in the neutral port of Lisbon.[19]
12. The next instance was again on this side of the Atlantic, and
in the neutral waters of our own coast. The French ship-of-the-line
L’Impétueux, separated in a storm from the fleet to which she belonged,
and much disabled, was discovered, September, 1806, by several British
men-of-war off Cape Henry. The French ship turned her head to the
land, and was actually aground before the British ships came within
cannon-shot. But, though in this disabled condition, and on the very
shores of the United States, she received a British broadside. The
French commander vainly protested that he was on neutral territory.
His crew were taken prisoners, and his ship was burned. This act was
a violation of the Law of Nations doubly noticeable, as the immunity
of our coast “within cannon-shot” had been expressly recognized in the
Treaty of 1794 between Great Britain and the United States. As the ship
was burned, there could be no question of its restitution. But it does
not appear that there was reparation of any kind,--not even apology.[20]
13. The outrage upon the frigate Chesapeake properly belongs to
this list, for it was a barefaced and most insulting violation of
territorial jurisdiction. This was in June, 1807, while the United
States were at peace with all the world. The Chesapeake, having
proceeded to sea, was followed by the British frigate Leopard, lying
at Hampton Roads, which, after ranging alongside, commenced a heavy
fire, until the commander of the Chesapeake felt it his duty to strike
his colors and to inform the British commander that the Chesapeake was
his prize. It is needless to mention the details of this unparalleled
enormity, or the mingled anger and humiliation which ensued in the
country, as they became known. A demand for reparation was made at
once; but it was only after four years of negotiation that the terms
of adjustment were mutually accepted. There was no ship to restore;
but the men forcibly taken from the Chesapeake were, “as far as
circumstances would admit,” returned to that frigate, then lying in the
harbor of Boston.[21]
14. At the time these outrages were perpetrated on our coast, another,
on a larger scale, was planned and executed in the Baltic. Denmark had
been “scrupulously neutral”; but the British Government feared that
its fleet at Copenhagen might in some way be appropriated by Napoleon,
whose Continental supremacy had recently culminated at the Peace of
Tilsit. It was determined to seize this fleet, and a naval expedition
of corresponding force was directed against Copenhagen. The Danes made
a brave resistance; but at last, on the 7th of September, 1807, they
were compelled to capitulate. The Danish fleet was surrendered to the
British admiral.[22]
15. Then came the American frigate Essex, under Captain Porter,
captured by a superior British force in the neutral waters of
Valparaiso. The Essex had made a very successful cruise, and become a
terror to British navigation. It was important to stop her victories.
The newspapers of the time assert that “an Admiralty order was issued,
commanding the officers of British ships in the South Seas _not to
respect any port as neutral where the Essex should be found_.” It is
certain that the British commander acted in this spirit. With two
frigates, the Phœbe and the Cherub, March 28, 1814, he opened fire upon
the Essex, then at anchor, according to her log-book, “in nine and an
half fathoms water, within half-pistol shot of the shore.” After a
desperate battle of two hours and a half, Captain Porter was compelled
to surrender. The people glowed with admiration of his gallantry, and
indignation at what was called “this glaring defiance of the clearest
principle of National Law.” It was said, that, “though the country
had lost a ship, it had lost nothing else.”[23] But here the matter
ended. The ship was never restored; nor does it appear to have been
the subject of reclamation, either by our Government upon Spain, or by
Spain upon Great Britain. The President’s message at the opening of
the next Congress, while commending the gallantry of Captain Porter,
does not even allude to the violation of International Law in his
capture. But it will be remarked, that at this time the South American
colonies were beginning to be convulsed by that long revolutionary war
which closed with their independence, so that there was a practical
difficulty in obtaining any remedy for this outrage. We could not apply
directly to England, and neither Spain nor Chile was in condition to
receive any such application. Silence on our part was the only policy.
But the act is not forgotten among the precedents of British history.
16. Then came the General Armstrong, an American privateer, destroyed
by a British squadron in the neutral waters of Fayal, in September,
1814. There is a dispute as to certain facts in this case. On the
British side it is said that the privateer fired first and killed
several men. But it is clear that the privateer was pursued and
attacked under the very guns of the Portuguese fortress, and, after
being abandoned by her crew, was burned by the British. As war at
that time existed between Great Britain and the United States, our
Government was compelled to resort for reparation to Portugal, whose
neutral territory had been violated. After a protracted negotiation for
more than a generation, the question was submitted to the arbitration
of Louis Napoleon, while President of the French Republic, who
decided that nothing was due from Portugal. This was on the ground of
exceptional circumstances, and among other things, that the American
commander “had not applied from the beginning for the intervention
of the neutral sovereign, and that, by having recourse to arms to
repel an unjust aggression of which he pretended to be the object, he
had himself failed to respect the neutrality of the territory of the
foreign sovereign, and had thereby released that sovereign from the
obligation in which he was to afford him protection by any other means
than that of a pacific intervention.”[24] In this case the ship was
destroyed, so that there was no question of restitution. But Great
Britain made no reparation of any kind.
Such are some of the seizures actually made by Great Britain, in
defiance of neutral rights, during the wars against the French
Revolution and against us.
17. There is another incident, belonging to the latter period, which,
though not a consummated seizure, is in the nature of testimony,
especially as it concerns the very port of Bahia where the Florida was
taken. Commodore Bainbridge, of the Navy of the United States, after
capture of the British frigate Java, left Captain Lawrence in the
Hornet to cruise off the port of Bahia, instructing him as follows:
“You will cruise off here as long as in your judgment you may deem
it necessary.… Be on your guard against the arrival of the Montague,
seventy-four; _and I advise you not to rely too much on the protection
of the neutral port of Bahia against the [British] Admiral’s influence
to capture you even in port_.”[25] Captain Lawrence followed these
instructions, and, though driven by the Montague into the port, at once
took advantage of the night and escaped to sea, thus eluding British
violence in neutral waters. The Hornet was not “gobbled up,” as her
capture of the Peacock shortly afterwards amply attests; but it is
evident that the will was not wanting.
18. The long interval of peace after the outrages last mentioned
caused a lull in British pretensions,--to be awakened by the blast
of war. In 1837, Canada was disturbed by a rebellion, soon followed
by the invasion of our territorial jurisdiction at Niagara. I refer
to the case of the steamboat Caroline, which, while moored to the
American shore, was entered in the darkness of night by a British
expedition from Canada, set on fire, and pushed into the rapids to be
precipitated over the cataract. Some persons on board were killed and
others wounded. For this unquestionable violation of our territory
there was no offer of reparation,--“no acknowledgment, no explanation,
no apology,” as Mr. Webster expressed it,--until, nearly five years
afterwards, Lord Ashburton, on his special mission, expressed regret
“that some explanation and apology was not immediately made.” The
amiable language of the British minister was promptly accepted by Mr.
Webster, who was at the time Secretary of State, and the controversy
subsided. The steamboat had been destroyed; but there was no offer to
restore its value, nor was this question raised by our Government.[26]
19. The latest instance, in point of time, worth while to name in
this list, is that of the Brazilian ship Santa Cruz, which, in 1850,
was seized and burned, with all her lading and papers, by a British
cruiser in the Brazilian waters. The excuse for the seizure was that
the ship was engaged in the slave-trade, and for the burning that she
was unseaworthy; but both these assertions were denied point-blank by
the Brazilian Government, which branded the transaction as “Vandalism,”
and gave notice that it would demand indemnity for the loss of the
ship. As the ship was destroyed, there was no question of restitution.
But there was formal protest against what was called “a violation of
every principle of the Law of Nations by acts highly derogatory to the
dignity, the sovereignty, and the independence of Brazil,--a nation as
sovereign and independent as Great Britain, although it may not have
the power to prevent such proceedings.”[27]
20. There is another instance, which, though earlier in time, I have
reserved for the last, on account of the authentic declarations of
an eminent British minister, bearing on the question now in issue
between Brazil and the United States: I refer to the case of the French
ships burnt or captured at Lagos, in 1759, within the territorial
jurisdiction of Portugal. A British fleet under Admiral Boscawen
falling in with an inferior French fleet, the latter took refuge near
the coast. What ensued is thus described in the contemporary Memoirs
of Horace Walpole. “They made a running fight, but could not escape
the vigilance and bravery of Boscawen. Two of their largest ships were
taken; two others forced on shore and burnt, in one of which was the
commander, who was wounded in both legs, and expired soon after. The
action passed on the 18th of August.”[28] This incident took its place
among the victories of the year, which, according to the lively remark
of Walpole in another place, were so numerous as to force him “to ask
every morning what victory there was, for fear of missing one.”[29]
But this victory was followed by an unexpected drawback. Pombal, a man
of genius and courage, and the greatest administrator Portugal has
produced, was at the time Prime-Minister. He complained vehemently
that the Portuguese territory had been violated, and demanded
satisfaction of Great Britain according to the Law of Nations.[30] In
Great Britain, William Pitt, afterwards Lord Chatham, was at the head
of affairs, teaching his country success in war as in commerce, and
filling the world with English renown. He met this question promptly.
In instructions to the British minister at Lisbon, written before the
Portuguese complaint had reached him, dated at Whitehall, September 12,
1759, and marked “Most secret,” he says:--
“In case you shall find that any violence has actually been
committed by his Majesty’s ships against the immunities of
the coasts of Portugal, it is the King’s pleasure that you
should express in the strongest terms to the Count de Oeyras
[afterwards Marquis of Pombal], and to the other ministers,
the extreme pain which such a most unfortunate incident must
give to the King as soon as the certain knowledge of it
shall reach his Majesty.… At the same time, in case there
has actually been a violation of territory on our part, you
will take care to avail yourself of all the circumstances of
extenuation, of a nature to soften the impressions which the
first sense of any insult on that coast may have made. But you
will be particularly attentive not to employ any favorable
circumstances to justify what the Law of Nations condemns, but
you will insensibly throw the same into your conversation with
insinuations and address, as considerations of alleviation,
which it is to be hoped may prevent all asperity between two
courts so mutually well disposed to each other, and whose
interests are so inseparable.”