_Madrid, 14th September 1854._
Dear Ebony,—The political chronicle, since last I wrote to you, is far
from offering such stirring incidents as were recorded in my July and
August despatches. There has been no fighting, although we were once on
the brink of it, and things have gone pretty quietly, and, upon the
whole, satisfactorily. After the fray comes the feast; and just as my
last letter went off, a banquet was given at the Theatre-Royal, by the
press of Madrid, to the ministers and a large number of notable persons.
The press took an important part in the recent movements here, and has
not been unrewarded, several of its members having been appointed to
high posts under government. After the dinner, at which speeches and
patriotism were plentiful, the next incident of note was the return to
Madrid of the small division that first, under O’Donnell and Dulce,
raised the banner of revolt against the Sartorius tyranny, and fought
the brief but sanguinary fight of Vicálvaro. But the principal event of
the last thirty days, the only one which (with its consequences) is
worth dwelling upon, is the departure—I might almost say the escape—of
Queen Christina from Madrid and from Spain.
In former letters I have given you an idea of the detestation with which
Ferdinand’s widow, once so beloved, has long been regarded. To those who
remember the affection and enthusiasm testified for her during the early
years of her residence in this country, the contrast with the storm of
hatred and execration amidst which she has quitted it, is very striking.
Then she was the hope of Spain, the idol of the Liberal party; her
appearance abroad was the signal for cheers as vehement and heartfelt as
any that have since been raised for Espartero. Her name was the
soldier’s battle-cry, when combating, amidst the rugged hills of
northern and eastern Spain, the partisans of Charles V.; it was the
burthen of the songs with which he enlivened his brief intervals of
repose, and beguiled the weariness of the march. As I write, there
recurs to my memory the burthen of one of those cheerful ditties, in
which Spaniards are called upon joyfully to exclaim “_Viva la Reina,
Maria Cristina_, she who broke the chains that bound and oppressed
us”—and more to that effect. Little more than a month ago, as I walked
through the Puerta del Sol—the heart of Madrid, which is the centre of
Spain—blind men and ill-favoured women shouted at every corner the
titles and contents of scurrilous pamphlets that recounted the misdeeds
of “Mother Christina.” It may truly be said that, of the fourteen
millions that people Spain, not one person (save her own creatures)
could be found to raise his voice in her favour. The charges brought
against her are numerous, and but too well founded. She is accused of
gross and wilful neglect of her daughter’s education—neglect which has
been the main origin of the scandal Isabella has caused, and of the
humbled and perilous position in which she now finds herself; her crown
tottering on her head, and her only chance of not losing it consisting
in implicit obedience to her minister’s directions. She is accused of
having betrayed the liberties of Spain, which were intrusted to her
keeping; of having trampled on the laws she had sworn to maintain; of
having built up a colossal fortune at the expense of the nation; of
having, by her unscrupulous greed and shameful political intrigues, by
her own conduct, and by her patronage of, and complicity with, some of
the worst men in Spain, destroyed all public morality, and augmented to
an inconceivable extent administrative corruption. On all these charges,
an immense jury, composed of the whole Spanish nation, has unanimously
found her guilty. And, since her departure, the general hope and prayer
are that she may never again set foot in the country she has so deeply
injured. “May the accursed Italian,” said a newspaper the other day,
“never return hither to make a traffic of all that is most sacred and
holy upon earth.” But, before she had left, the feeling concerning her
was in one respect different. It was the opinion of many that it was
neither safe nor just to allow her to leave the country. It was
remembered how, during her three years’ exile in France, she had
intrigued and manœuvred, and lavished treasure, until, aided by the
divisions in the Liberal camp and by the incapacity of the Liberal
government, she rode into Madrid in the triumphal car of Reaction. Then,
it is true, she had a staunch and interested ally in the wily and
unscrupulous chief of the house of Orleans. Deprived of his powerful aid
and cooperation, she is manifestly much less to be dreaded. But a
portion of the Spanish nation, and especially of the inhabitants of the
capital, well acquainted with her great cunning and skill in intrigue,
and overrating, perhaps, the elements and resources she can command in a
foreign country for the purpose of again disturbing Spain’s
tranquillity, insisted that she should be caged and not expelled, and
moreover that she should be brought to account before the Cortes for the
peculations and robberies attributed to her by the voice of the entire
nation. You will remember the scenes that occurred at the palace soon
after Espartero’s arrival here, and the vain attempts then made to get
her off in safety, whilst armed and menacing crowds were vigilant to
prevent her passage, and could be induced to abandon their watch over
their sovereign’s palace, and their stations upon the roads from Madrid,
only by a promise from the government that the object of the popular
wrath should not be allowed clandestinely to depart. But it soon was
found that if there was a probability of her being dangerous abroad,
there was a certainty of her being so at home. Her daughter’s residence
again became a focus of intrigue. This got so well known, the
reactionary party, encouraged by having their old protectress to lean
upon, were so active, and symptoms were observed so dangerous to public
tranquillity, that the chiefs of the national guard sent a deputation to
the government, urging strongly the removal of Christina from the
palace. As the national guard of Madrid now consists of upwards of
twenty thousand men, and as they elect their own chiefs, who must
therefore be considered to represent the opinions and enjoy the
confidence of the majority, the prayer of such a deputation naturally
had weight; and at cabinet councils held on that and the following day,
the principal question discussed was—What is to be done with the
Queen-mother? The impossibility of preventing her intrigues, should she
remain in Spain, except by confinement too rigorous to be legal,
determined the council to expel her from the country; attaching her
property until the Cortes should have investigated her conduct, and
decided concerning the charges brought against her. This plan resolved
upon, it was immediately put into execution. The determination was come
to on the evening of the 27th August. On the 28th, at seven in the
morning, the ministers were at the palace, to witness the Queen-mother’s
departure. The adieus were brief. Christina betrayed no emotion at
parting from her daughter, who, on her part, dropped a few decorous
tears, but was not very greatly afflicted. There has never been much
affection between the two queens, although the elder of them, by her
astuteness and superior strength of character, has exercised great
influence over the younger. The Queen-mother then took leave of the
ministers, whom she must heartily detest; recommended her daughter to
the care and watchful guardianship of Espartero, and entered a large
travelling-vehicle, accompanied by her husband, who looked grievously
dejected, and attended by an ecclesiastic of high rank, and by several
persons of her household. Her children’s departure had preceded hers.
Some were in Portugal, others in France. Escorted by two squadrons of
cavalry, under the command of the well-known General Garrigó, she
reached, by short stages, and without molestation, the frontier of the
former country.
Few persons were present at Christina’s departure, although it was
stated in the French papers, whose blunders concerning Spanish affairs
are incessant and amusing, that the windows of the palace were filled
with ladies waving handkerchiefs, and that its roof was crowded with
national guards. The truth is, that hardly anybody in Madrid knew of the
Queen-mother’s going, until she had actually gone. As the news spread, a
certain excitement was manifested, and towards eleven o’clock a crowd of
men, many of them armed, thronged the small square in front of
Espartero’s residence, with menacing shouts of Down with the Ministry!
and loud demands for the return of Christina. An aide-de-camp presenting
himself at a window to address them, firearms were levelled at him, and
he was compelled to retire. The fermentation each moment increased.
Deputations from various public bodies waited upon the premier to
express their disapproval of the step taken. The general impression
abroad was, that a trick had been played on the people, that faith had
been broken with them, and that the government was pledged not to suffer
the departure of Christina until the Cortes had decided concerning her.
The verbal pledge given by Espartero to a deputation, at a time when it
was a great object to get rid of the bodies of armed men who beset the
palace, and infested the environs of Madrid, making it their business to
guard against the escape of the Queen-mother, was, that she should not
depart furtively, either by day or by night. Her departure, therefore,
at eight in the morning, when the gazette containing its announcement
had been but an hour published, was held to be a violation of this
promise, as far as regarded the people. On the other hand, the national
guard had insisted, through its chiefs, that Christina should not remain
at the palace; there was danger to the tranquillity of Madrid if she
continued there; her property in Spain, and her pension of thirty
thousand pounds a year, which was suspended, offered considerable
security for the financial improprieties of which she might be found to
have been guilty. To let her leave the country was manifestly the wisest
course, and it was adopted. It has been urged that it would have been
more straightforward of the government, and would have prevented even
the imputation of a breach of faith, to have summoned commissions of the
national guards, the corporation, and other bodies, and from them to
have obtained, beforehand, that approval of the measure which was almost
unanimously accorded to them a few hours after it had been taken. But in
cases of this kind there is a wide difference between before and after.
The same men who, when the thing was done, supported the cause of order
and the government, of whose good intentions they were sure, and of the
wisdom of whose conduct they presently became persuaded, might have
assumed a different attitude had they been consulted in advance.
Moreover, by acting in that way, by deferring on every occasion to the
popular voice, whether it spoke words of wisdom or words of folly, the
ministers could never hope to gain strength, which was what they most
needed. In short, it might have been a very difficult and dangerous
business to get Christina out of Madrid, had the intention been
published the day before; and doubtless the government preferred risking
the unfounded imputation of a deception, to incurring the responsibility
of fresh collisions. In my opinion, as an eyewitness of all that passed,
it would have been hazardous to have acted otherwise than the ministers
did. As it was, not a shot was fired, not a wound received; and three
days after the affair, everybody seemed convinced that the best had been
done.
I shall not dwell upon the incidents of the afternoon and night of the
28th August, of which you will have already seen accounts. For a short
time things looked menacing, and many expected a fight. The council of
ministers, assembled in the large building on the Puerta del Sol which
is at once the Spanish “Home Office” and the main guard-house, received
numerous delegates from the corporation, the provincial deputation, and
from other public bodies; expounded to them their views and reasons, and
received promises of support. Meanwhile the national guard—a portion of
it somewhat sulky and dissatisfied—took up arms and prepared to maintain
order. A considerable number of barricades had been thrown up. The
presence and exhortations of General San Miguel sufficed for some of
these to be removed by their makers. But in a small section of the town
they were maintained; and a few hundred malcontents busied themselves in
strengthening them, and declared their intention of defending them. Over
their uneven summits were to be seen the barrels of muskets and
fowling-pieces, and a few familiar faces which had often crossed my
sight during the revolution of July. It was not certain what the
barricaders wanted; in fact, there was a strange combination of
elements; but the chief demand they put forward was, the dismissal of
the ministry, whom they declared to have betrayed the people. As far as
I could observe, Espartero was excepted from this verdict; but only by
those of the insurgents who, however mistaken in the course they
pursued, acted in good faith, and in support of their own political
views. There were many others who were actuated by widely different
motives. The reactionary and absolutist party had its representatives at
the barricades; foreign influence was also at work; and it has been
supposed by some that Christina had supplied funds—not, perhaps, in
anticipation of the outbreak (although even that she may have foreseen),
but to be in readiness for any occasion of mischief that might present
itself. It was clearly for her interest, the revolution having gone so
far, to see it carried farther. If the ultra-democratic party, aided by
the rabble of the low districts of Madrid, could gain the ascendant, the
certain result was anarchy. Then would come reaction, and Christina and
her friends might hope to resume their places and recommence their
spoliations. Accordingly, there can be no doubt—indeed, it were easily
proved—that agents of the expelled party—the Palacos, as they are
called—stimulated and assisted in the disturbances of the 28th August.
Their efforts were of no avail against the steady attitude of the
national guards, who remained for eighteen hours under arms in the
streets, obedient to their officers, and turning a deaf ear to the
perfidious insinuations of agents who sought to set them against the
government, and to divide them amongst themselves. The insurgents,
seeing that their cause was hopeless, and having the promise, from
Espartero’s own lips, of a brisk cannonade at daybreak, abandoned their
barricades in the course of the night. Many of them left their arms
behind them; a considerable number were taken prisoners; more escaped by
concealing themselves in houses until such time as the national guards,
all danger being over, retired to their homes. On the 29th, Madrid was
as quiet as if nothing had occurred.
A foreigner, lately resident in this capital, and who, within little
more than a year, has acquired a rather unenviable celebrity, is here
generally believed to have had a hand in the outbreak of the 28th
ultimo. I refer to the Minister of the United States at Madrid. A
Frenchman by birth, but compelled to abandon his country previous to the
revolution of 1830, in consequence of certain political writings, M.
Pierre Soulé settled on the other side of the Atlantic, and became heart
and soul an American. A man of great energy, vigorous intellect, and
considerable astuteness, he attained to high practice at the bar, to a
seat in Congress, and to the leadership of the party which seeks,
without much regard to the means employed, to annex Cuba to the States.
With that unscrupulous party, his open profession of the most distorted
views on questions of international right made him highly popular. From
his seat in the Senate, early in 1852, he bitterly attacked the
government of Mr Fillmore for not taking up the cause of the adventurers
under Lopez; some of whom had been executed, and others sent to prison,
for their piratical attempt on the island of Cuba. In 1853, shortly
before his appointment as minister at Madrid, he made a long and
eloquent speech, in which he lauded Lopez and his companions as heroes,
indulged in stinging sarcasms on Spain and Spaniards, and, speaking of
Cuba, urged the government, in metaphorical phrase, not to delay too
long to pluck the fruit from the tree, lest it should rot upon the stem.
This is the man whom Mr Franklin Pierce thought proper to send as envoy
to Spain. You will remember that, on his arrival at New York to embark
for Europe, a meeting was held in that city, composed of members of the
Lone Star Society, of fugitives from Cuba, and of other partisans of
annexation, who proceeded to serenade him, bearing banners on which were
inscriptions coupling Mr Soulé’s name with the rescue of Cuba from the
Spanish yoke. A member of the procession made a high-flown speech, in
which he expressed a hope that, when the honourable envoy returned to
his own country with fresh claims upon the esteem of his
fellow-citizens, a new star would shine in the celestial vault of Young
America. M. Soulé replied to this address, referring to Cuba as a
suffering people; and declaring that, as an American minister, he did
not cease to be an American citizen; and that, as an American citizen,
he had a right to attend to the sobs of anguish of the oppressed. Taken
in connection with his harangues in the Senate, and with the address to
which it replied, his speech was certainly most significant, indiscreet,
and offensive to Spain. It caused great scandal, not only in Europe, but
amongst the right-thinking portion of the people of the United States.
Mr Pierce was loudly censured for the appointment, and American
newspapers declared that it was his duty, as soon as he knew what had
passed in New York, to send a steamer after Mr Soulé to bring him back,
since he had proved himself completely unfit to fill the office of
American minister in Spain. I believe it to be a fact that the United
States did not expect their envoy to be received as such at Madrid. But
they underrated the meanness and pusillanimity of the Spanish ministry
then in power. After some delay at Paris, employed, it was said, in
ascertaining what sort of reception awaited him in the Spanish capital,
Mr Soulé proceeded to his destination. He had been but a short time
there, when an unfortunate affair brought him into bad odour. At a ball
at the French ambassador’s, the Duke of Alba, referring to Mrs Soulé’s
dress, which struck him as peculiar, compared her to Mary of Burgundy.
Probably the comparison was not very apt; possibly the grandee who made
it was not particularly conversant with the costumes of the middle ages:
there certainly does not appear to have been any offensive intention of
comparing persons, but merely of criticising a costume. Mr Soulé’s son,
however, a very young man, overheard the remark, took it in bad part,
and provoked the Duke of Alba. The result was a bloodless duel, fought
with very long swords, lasting a very long time, and followed up by a
very long letter to the papers, which Mr Soulé, jun., had, for his own
sake, much better have left unwritten. Out of this affair grew a second
duel, more serious in its character and results, between Mr Soulé and
the French minister at Madrid. They fought with pistols, and the Marquis
de Turgot received an unfortunate wound in the leg, which, to this day,
compels him to use crutches. The whole details of these unpleasant
circumstances were at the time placed before the public by the English
and French press, and the general opinion certainly seemed to be that
the Soulés had unnecessarily commenced, and afterwards wilfully
aggravated a foolish quarrel, which, as new-comers to the country and
considering the diplomatic character of the senior, and the imputations
of hostility to Spain under which he laboured, they ought to have done
their utmost to avoid. Be this as it may, and without entering into the
political animosities that are said to have mingled in the affair, the
Spaniards naturally took the part of their countryman and of M.
Turgot—the case of the latter exciting particular sympathy, since he had
been dragged into and maimed in a quarrel with which he had not the
least concern. Thenceforward the society of Madrid avoided that of the
Soulé family.
These unpleasant incidents had scarcely ceased to arrest the public
attention, when the affair of the Black Warrior again brought Mr Soulé’s
name prominently before the world. This affair has been so much
discussed that its main facts must be generally and well known, and I
will use the utmost brevity in here recapitulating them, which I do for
the sake of adding a few comments, and of relating one or two
circumstances in the dispute to which they gave rise that I believe are
not widely known. On the 28th February last, the Black Warrior
steam-ship, a regular trader between Mobile and New York, arrived from
the former place in the port of Havanah. She was entered at the
custom-house as in ballast, and the manifest presented was conformable
with that declaration, ship’s provisions being the only cargo set down.
Her clearance was then applied for; but on the searcher from the
custom-house visiting the vessel, she was found to be cotton-laden;
whereupon her departure was stopped, and judicial proceedings were
commenced, the delay having expired that is allowed by law for the
rectification of the manifest. Article 162 of the Customs Regulations of
the Havanah states, that “after the twelve hours allowed by Article 15
for the rectification of, or addition to, the manifest, shall have
expired, all goods that may have been omitted in it shall be seized;
and, moreover, the captain shall be fined to the amount of their value,
provided always the amount of duty which would have to be paid on the
contents of the package or packages do not exceed four hundred dollars;
because if it exceed that sum, and if the goods belong, or are consigned
to, the owner, captain, or supercargo, the fine shall not be imposed,
but, instead of it, the vessel, together with its freights and
everything else available, shall be seized.” This is explicit enough;
and it is to be noted that a copy of the custom-house regulations,
printed in English, was handed to Captain Bullock, commanding the Black
Warrior, as soon as he entered the port. By order of the authorities the
cargo was landed, and found to consist of 957 bales of cotton. The
amount of seizure and of fines incurred was very large, and the Marquis
of Pezuela, captain-general of the Havanah, desired the superior board
of administration to consider the matter, with a view to its reduction.
That board fully confirmed the legality of the steps taken and fines
imposed, but left it at the discretion of the captain-general to reduce
the latter if he thought proper. He consulted the attorney-general of
the island, who recommended their reduction to ten thousand dollars,
exclusive of all expenses incurred in discharging the cargo; but general
Pezuela finally decided to reduce the penalty to six thousand dollars,
including all costs and charges. In the mean time the consignees had
made various applications to the captain-general, admitting their fault,
declaring the captain’s omission to have arisen from ignorance, pleading
ignorance on their own part also, begging that the vessel might be
allowed to depart upon payment of the transit duties, corresponding to a
ship laden as she was; and, finally, when the fine of six thousand
dollars was definitely fixed upon, entreating its further reduction.
This, however, the captain-general, who had officially announced his
decision, refused to grant; but he forwarded a petition from the
consignees to the Queen of Spain, in which it was set forth that there
could have been no fraudulent intention—cotton not being an article of
consumption in the island of Cuba—in which the heavy loss arising from
the detention, discharge, and reloading of the vessel was urged, and the
remission of the fine craved. This prayer was subsequently granted; but
before that was done the dispute between Spain and the United States had
assumed menacing proportions.
This statement of well-ascertained facts shows the Cuban authorities to
have acted strictly within the law throughout the whole business, and
with great clemency to the persons who had transgressed it. If it suited
American vessels, trading between Mobile and New York, to call at the
Havanah to take in coals, or for other objects, they were bound to
comply in every respect with the laws and regulations of the colony, and
could not expect to get off scot-free if they transgressed them. But
there is a circumstance to be taken into consideration which somewhat
modifies this view of matters in the case of the Black Warrior. It
appears that, owing to the remissness, indulgence, or—it has been
suggested, but I have not seen it proved—the corruptness of the Cuban
authorities, the Black Warrior had been in the habit of entering the
port with a cargo, exhibiting a manifest that stated her to be in
ballast, and being entered and cleared accordingly, and that she had
actually made more than thirty voyages in that manner without let or
impediment. It is scarcely possible that this should not have been known
to the Cuban custom-house, and if so, it must be admitted that the
course pursued on the occasion of the voyage made in February 1854 was,
although doubtless strictly legal, harsh and injudicious. The neglect to
enforce the law on more than thirty previous voyages might not suffice
to abrogate it; but it should have induced the Cuban authorities—though
it had been but from considerations of prudence—to re-enforce it less
suddenly. It is easy to understand that the new captain-general, and one
or two other newly-appointed and high functionaries, who had gone out
with him to the Havanah only a few weeks before the occurrence of the
difficulty, were fired with zeal for reform; and it is stated that,
during the first few months of their administration, the revenue of the
island increased. But they should have gone to work more coolly and
gradually. In consideration of the long impunity the irregularities of
the Black Warrior had enjoyed, it would surely have sufficed, on the
28th February, to have warned the captain and consignees that such could
be no longer permitted, and that, on her next voyage, the law would be
rigidly enforced, should occasion be given. Towards a country of equal
or inferior power, this would have been the fairest and most proper
course to pursue; but towards so potent and aggressive a neighbour as
the United States, it was most unwise to adopt any other. But although
numerous misrepresentations have been circulated on the subject, this
fault of judgment is the only one in the affair of the Black Warrior
that can fairly be imputed to General Pezuela and his subordinates.
Of course, the business was a godsend to President Pierce and the
annexation party in the United States. The former forthwith sent a
strong—I might almost say a violent—message to the House of
Representatives, declaring the seizure of the Black Warrior to present
“a clear case of wrong,” attributing habitual misconduct to the
authorities of Cuba, and stating that he had already given instructions
for the demand of an immediate indemnity; in the event of the refusal of
which, he declared, in menacing terms, that he would “vindicate the
honour of the American flag.” Now Mr Soulé appears again upon the scene.
The demands addressed by him to the Spanish government were an indemnity
of £60,000 sterling, the dismissal of all those Cuban authorities that
had been concerned in the proceedings against the Black Warrior (this
would of course include General Pezuela, although his name appears not
to have been mentioned in the note), and finally that, in future, the
governor of Cuba should have power to settle disputes with the United
States without reference to the home government—an arrangement directly
opposed to the colonial policy of Spain. As may be supposed, the Spanish
ministry demurred to such exorbitant and unreasonable demands. Calderon
de la Barca, the feeble and timid foreign minister of the Sartorius
cabinet, was no match for Mr Soulé. He even suffered himself to be
bullied by the American secretary of legation, who, on conveying to him
a communication, took out his watch and stated the exact time he would
allow him to answer it. And although Sartorius came to the aid of his
aged and incapable colleague, he quickly disgusted Mr Soulé by his
double-dealing, evasions, and procrastination. None of the
communications that have passed during the discussion of the Black
Warrior affair have as yet been published in Spain, or, that I am aware
of, in America. All the correspondence that passed in Cuba is before us,
so that we are enabled to form an opinion on the merits of the case; but
there our documentary information stops. What is positively known from
other sources is, that there seemed so little chance of the affair being
settled with Mr Soulé, that the Spanish government directed Señor Cueto
to try to arrange it at Washington, and sent after him, soon after his
departure, by Señor Galiano, notes and instructions to aid him in the
task. For a considerable time after that, scarcely anything was heard of
the matter; and there is strong reason to believe that Mr Soulé was
himself left without communications from his government for a length of
time that annoyed and perhaps surprised him. This naturally awakens a
doubt whether his proceedings have been altogether approved at
headquarters. His friends here maintain that they have. It is presumable
that they derive their information from himself.
On the 1st of August last, in compliance with the desire of the United
States Senate, President Pierce sent to it a message with respect to the
state of American relations with Spain since his former menacing message
of the 16th March. All that he said that directly referred to the Black
Warrior affair, was that Spain, instead of granting prompt reparation,
had justified the conduct of the Cuban authorities, and thereby assumed
the responsibility of their acts. The tone of the whole message was
threatening to Spain, and the probability of war at no distant period
was plainly indicated. It nevertheless excited little apprehension here,
where it was generally considered to be merely an unprincipled attempt,
on the part of Mr Pierce, to regain, by an appeal to the passions of the
people, the popularity he had lost, and at the same time to keep up
alarm in Cuba, and to wear out the energies of Spain, in hopes that at
last, disheartened and intimidated, a Spanish government would be found
willing to sell the island. It is doubtful, however, whether any Spanish
minister would dare to entertain proposals for its purchase. Mr Soulé
has declared himself, in his place in Congress, decidedly opposed to
that mode of acquiring Cuba, on the ground that it must, at no distant
date, fall into the lap of the Union without costing a dollar. This
declaration is nearly tantamount to saying that it is less expensive to
take a thing by force than to buy it with money, and conveys pretty much
the sentiment for the practical carrying out of which on a small scale,
men used to be hung, and are now transported. Mr Soulé is unquestionably
a man of talent—eloquent, wary, skilful in adapting himself to the
persons with whom he comes in contact—but he is deficient in good taste,
as he has more than once shown since he came to Madrid, and his
patriotism and philanthropy, with respect to the island of Cuba, smack
too strongly of piracy to obtain much respect in Europe, however
acceptable they may prove, and however loudly they may be applauded, in
a lodge of the “Lone Star,” or at a New Orleans public meeting. But
although “Cuba without cost” may be the device inscribed on his banner—a
black one, it is to be presumed—when he came to Spain as the
representative of his government, he was bound to obey his instructions,
and these, there can scarcely be a doubt, were to offer a large sum of
money for the much-coveted island. Knowing what we know of the Sartorius
ministry, we are justified in believing that they would have had no
objection to effect a sale which they assuredly would have made the
means of filling their own pockets. But however inclined they may have
felt, they dared not do it.
For some weeks the Black Warrior question had been comparatively little
spoken of in Madrid, and the general opinion seemed to be that it had
been amicably adjusted at Washington, or was in a fair way to be so,
when the O’Donnell insurrection and the July revolution concentrated the
public thought on home politics. Things had scarcely begun to settle
down, when, on the 21st August, the arrival of the President’s message
of the 1st once more drew attention to Cuba, and to the state of affairs
between Spain and America. Just a week later, on the 28th, occurred the
outbreak I have described in the early part of this letter. On that same
day, before the revolt was suppressed, it was said in Madrid that the
American minister was concerned in the insurrection. The next day, when
things were quiet, the part he was alleged to have played was matter of
common conversation, and then the newspapers took up the matter. The
_Diario Español_, usually one of the best written and best informed of
the Madrid journals, which supports the present government, and is
believed to be the special organ of General O’Donnell, published on the
30th August a very strong article on the subject. It had been stated the
day before with truth that Mr Soulé was about to leave Madrid for
France, and the supposition had been added that he did so in order to
avoid being in the Spanish capital when news should arrive of a
piratical invasion of Cuba by citizens of the United States. Taking this
for a text, the _Diario Español_ indignantly asked if Mr Soulé feared
for his personal safety, and mistrusted the honour of Spaniards. He
would have no cause for such apprehension, the paper continued, “even if
he had been wanting in the respect due to the nation, and had sought by
every means to favour projects tending to deprive Spain of her most
precious colony: even if it were certain that he had sought to profit by
the days of degradation of the Spanish government (under Sartorius), and
to take advantage of the insatiable voracity of high and low influences:
even if it were certain that he had endeavoured to profane the sanctity
of the revolution, and to sow discord amongst the people, seducing the
unwary, engaging in a vile intrigue, giving money and promising arms to
destroy the power of the honourable and patriotic men who now direct the
destinies of Spain: even if he had succeeded in gaining over a few
deluded persons who had failed to discern, through the cloud of his
honeyed and flattering words, the latent idea of keeping up agitation
and disorder in the Peninsula, and so of depriving Cuba of the succours
the mother-country might otherwise send thither: even though the people
knew that he had attempted to take advantage of a moment of
effervescence traitorously to excite its indignation, and to hurry it to
revolt.” This was pretty plain speaking. On the same day that the
article appeared, Mr Soulé addressed an angry letter to the _Diario
Español_, which did not publish it. The letter afterwards appeared in a
French frontier newspaper. The following is a translation of its
contents, as given in the _Bayonne Messager_ of the 9th August:—
“MADRID, _30th August_.
“_A Monsieur le Directeur du Diario Español._
“Sir,—The tone and character of the article concerning me published in
your sheet of this day, too plainly prove the influences that have
inspired it for me not to honour it by a word of reply.
“I leave Madrid because it pleases me to leave it, and because I have
no account to render to anybody, either of my proceedings or of the
motives that determine them.
“I will never absent myself from any place through fear of being
insulted or put in peril by those whom my presence may displease.
“I do not fear impertinence, nor even assassins.
“And especially, Sir, I do not fear the people.
“The people respects what deserves to be respected;—it brands only the
miserable men who flatter and deceive it.... It fights—but it does not
assassinate.
“As to the perfidious insinuations of which your article is full, they
are beneath my contempt.
“I leave to you the merit of the varnish with which you have covered
them, and, to those who dictated them, the infamy of their invention.
“I am, Sir, your Servant,
“PIERRE SOULÉ.”
The charges brought by the _Diario Español_, and to which the above
characteristic epistle was the reply, were endorsed to a greater or less
extent by public opinion in Madrid. On the 12th of August, Mr Soulé,
unable to attend the banquet given by the Press, had addressed to the
committee of management a letter, in which occurred the following
passage: “The heart of Young America, doubt it not, will palpitate with
joy and delight at the breath of the perfumed breeze that shall waft to
it across the ocean the acclamations of liberated Spain. May I be
permitted to say, that mine is intoxicated with felicity by the hope
that Europe, apathetic though it seem, will not suffer those germs of
regeneration, which the sublime sacrifice of some of her sons has just
so miraculously caused to sprout, to become debilitated, and to die.” It
is charitably supposed, by those who credit the American minister’s
participation in the events of the 28th August, that the intoxication
referred to in this flowery and figurative paragraph had not entirely
passed away at that date, and that the writer of the letter to the
dining committee thought it his duty, as the representative of Young
America, to contribute his aid to that germination of regeneration which
apathetic Spain showed herself tardy in promoting. At the same time,
there certainly are not wanting evil-disposed persons, who affirm that
Mr Soulé has so concentrated his vision on his adopted country, that he
can scarcely discern any other; that he looks with contempt upon the
herd of slaves who range about Europe, and that to him it would be
matter of indifference to see the Old World perish, so that the New
World prospered—and, with it, his ambition. It has further been said
that, neither prudent nor scrupulous in the means he employed, he
condescended assiduously to court that Dowager Queen whose whole life
has been a contradiction to the principles he professes, and to admit
the society of a yet more illegitimate influence at the Spanish court.
It has been declared, and believed by many, that Mr Soulé, knowing that
the government of Espartero and O’Donnell was not one that he could
either intimidate or buy, and beholding in its character an
insurmountable obstacle to the attainment of the great object of his
desires, resolved to work for its downfall by every means in his power,
and that, notwithstanding his fervent sympathy with the welfare and
liberties of Spain, he would have preferred either anarchy or despotism
to the triumph of a system which, whilst maintaining those liberties,
rendered more and more remote the prospect of realisation of that
cherished project, whose accomplishment would introduce a new star “into
the celestial vault of Young America,” and at the same time vastly add
to the importance and popularity in the States of the American minister
at Madrid. All these things have been said, and have found wide credence
in this capital and elsewhere.
Enough, however, on this branch of the subject. The sum of ten million
dollars, demanded by Mr Pierce to make head against the possible
contingency of a war with Spain, having been refused him by the American
Senate, the probabilities of such a war occurring are greatly
diminished, and the Spanish government entertains little apprehension on
that score. Upon the other hand, notwithstanding Mr Pierce’s declaration
in his Message of the 1st August that the whole of the means which the
constitution allows to the executive power should be employed to prevent
the violation of law, treaties, and international right, contemplated by
certain citizens of the United States, who, as the government was
officially and positively informed, were fitting out an expedition for
the invasion of Cuba—notwithstanding this assurance, I say, there appear
grounds for fearing that, owing perhaps to the weakness of the executive
arm in the States, the expedition in question will yet sail for the
coveted shores of the Pearl of the Antilles. Whether, if attempted, it
will meet the fate of that under Lopez, or whether it will succeed, not
only in landing, but in holding its ground until it can receive those
reinforcements which would probably flock to it from the Southern
States, as soon as it became known there that it had occupied, and was
maintaining, a position, is a matter of anxious uncertainty. The island
is strongly garrisoned, but American riflemen are formidable opponents.
The Spanish government feels confident of the result, and fully reckons
on the fidelity and valour of the two or three and twenty thousand good
troops now in Cuba. Where the Americans will be most deficient will
doubtless be in cavalry and artillery. The Spaniards have a thousand
dragoons, several batteries of field-artillery, and numerous large
Paixhans guns garnishing the forts and batteries of the island. And
although Spanish cavalry, judging from what we see here, is generally
but indifferently mounted, it is abundantly able to cope with irregular
infantry, and indeed would prove most formidable to the invaders, if
they ventured forth from the shelter of forests and hedges, or from the
broken ground favourable to sharp-shooters. As to the courage of the
men, when well led, there is no doubt of that. Good leading, which they
have rarely had, is all that Spaniards want to be as valiant troops as
any in Europe. Only the other day, at Vicálvaro, with General Garrigó
and other brave and determined officers at their head, regiments of
dragoons repeatedly galloped up to the very mouths of batteries, which
received them, at a few yards’ distance, with volleys of grape. Men who
would do this, would hardly flinch from charging irregular riflemen,
however accurate and deadly their fire. The Spanish artillery is
considered the best arm in the service; it is certainly the one with
which the most pains are taken, and which possesses the best-instructed
officers. The infantry now in Cuba is about twenty thousand strong, well
disciplined, in good condition, and accustomed to the climate. Were
these forces, infantry, cavalry, and artillery, concentrated in the
field against the American pirates, it is difficult to believe that the
latter could succeed in getting together, or at least in landing, a
force capable of resisting their attack. To speak positively on this
point, however, it would be necessary to be somewhat in the confidence
of the _filibusteros_, or at least to know more than is positively known
of their resources, plans, and places of rendezvous. But even supposing
that they muster more than we, in our imperfect information, think
probable, it is to be borne in mind that the very best irregular troops,
however formidable their valour and skill with their weapons may render
them in small numbers, are far less to be feared when they act in large
masses. Then the deficiency in discipline and drill tells heavily
against them. I am far from underrating the indomitable pluck of the
Americans, or their coolness or steadiness when in peril, and only
desire to see those valuable qualities displayed in a better cause than
the one to which we are assured they are shortly to be devoted. But in
an open plain, or in the attack of a fortress, and when opposed to
regular troops of average bravery, something more than pluck and
coolness is required. Upon the other hand, it must not be forgotten,
when we seek to strike the balance of chances, that the garrison of Cuba
could not be brought entire into the field. Certain forts, and towns,
and positions must be held, and although it is probable that many of
these would be left to the keeping of the numerous volunteers that would
take up arms the moment an invasion occurred, still portions of the
garrison must be detached from the main body. An intelligent Spaniard,
who has spent several years in Cuba, and but recently returned thence,
gave it me as his opinion that from ten to twelve thousand men could be
employed as the army of operation. He estimated the present garrison at
rather under twenty thousand men effective for the field, which is
somewhat less than the government estimate. The European Spaniards in
the island he believed to be about fifty thousand, a large proportion
Basques and Catalans, and who would readily enrol themselves as
volunteers in case of peril, would prove formidable antagonists, and
fight desperately for their homes and property. As to the native Cubans,
many of them would be likely to join the Americans, if these were
strong, and gained advantages at first starting; but if the invaders
were worsted, the Cubans would fly to arms and vaunt their fidelity to
Spain. The negroes, who have no wish to exchange Spanish for American
masters, and who are aware of the many disadvantages under which even a
free man of colour labours in the States, would all be ready to fight,
if arms were given to them. The negro mode of fighting, as described to
me by persons who are well acquainted with it, is peculiar and
dangerous. They fire a volley, receive the enemy’s fire, throw away
their muskets, and rush in with cutlass or poniard.
The long narrow shape of the island of Cuba, which bears a strong
resemblance to a lizard with the head looking eastward, is favourable to
its defenders, since it facilitates the cutting off of the invading
force. It will be a great advantage if General Concha’s arrival takes
place previously to any attack. He is the very man to command under such
circumstances. Quick of eye and ready of resource, he will inspire the
troops with confidence, and raise the courage of the Cubans. Amongst
these he has, what no captain-general of Cuba in our time has had, a
strong party—persons who are attached to him, like his mode of
administration, prefer him to any other captain-general, and will stand
by him to the utmost with all the influence and power they may possess.
This is a principal reason why he readily and gladly accepted the
destination towards which he is now steaming,—if indeed he has not
arrived there, since his departure from Corunna took place upwards of a
fortnight ago. The Spanish government—and indeed Spaniards generally, as
far as my means of observation extend—entertain a sanguine belief that,
with the troops at his command, and with the moral and physical support
of the majority of the dwellers on the island, Concha will so handle the
intruding annexionists as to make them heartily repent their unprovoked
and unjustifiable aggression.
There are other points to be taken into consideration when we discuss
the probable issue of the anticipated conflict. One of these, on which
such conflicting testimony has been given that it is scarcely possible
to form a decided opinion with respect to it, is the amount of support
the Americans would find in the island itself. The Spaniards, as I have
above intimated, think it would be unimportant. Ask a Yankee
annexionist, and he will tell you that the whole island, with the
exception of the European Spaniards resident in it, pines for release
from the intolerable yoke of Spain, longs to hoist the Stripes and
Stars, and to cling to the proud neck of the American eagle. I have been
told by Americans of the numbers of letters received from inhabitants of
Cuba, expressive of these sentiments, and imploring sympathy and
assistance. But it must be observed that a few malcontents, or American
settlers in the island, would suffice to circulate an immense number of
such complaints and prayers. One may imagine, for instance, the
consignees of the Black Warrior, after inditing their submissive and
penitent letters to the governor-general, and their petition to the
Queen of Spain for the remission of the fine, dipping their sharpest
iron pen into the ink-bottle, and relieving their afflicted souls by
throwing off screaming despatches to their friends in New York and New
Orleans, inveighing against the tyranny of Spanish rule, and longing for
the day when Cuba should join the Union. By those to whom such letters
were welcome, they would naturally be made the most of; they would be
handed about, talked of, and their contents verbally repeated, until it
would seem as if a hundred letters had arrived instead of one. The
Spaniards themselves admit that a part of the Creole population would be
glad to see the island detached from Spain. To these I suppose we may
safely add, as partisans of Cuba’s becoming a State of the Union, all
the Anglo-Americans resident in the island. Beyond this, I am in
possession of no trustworthy evidence; and when I say that only a small
portion of the Creoles or native whites are disaffected to the Spanish
government, I state it, as you will observe, on Spanish authority, but,
at the same time, on the authority of Spaniards long resident in the
island, particularly capable, by their position and intelligence, of
forming a correct judgment, and the sole drawback to the value of whose
opinion is the admissible supposition that it may be biassed by their
natural wishes on the subject.
Supposing that, in the autumn of 1854, an American expedition, starting
from Florida, or from one of the small islands in the Bahama channel,
made a descent upon Cuba, were entirely worsted, and cut off or
compelled to re-embark. How long a time would elapse before a third
expedition were got ready? Would not the interval probably be shorter
than the one between the Lopez expedition and the present date? The
dogged tenacity of a certain class of Americans, when bent upon
acquisition, is well known. And is it not probable that each expedition
would exceed the preceding one in strength, until one went forth strong
enough to triumph? The passage of the island from the feeble hands of
bankrupt decrepid Spain into the strong ones of the young and vigorous
Union, is a mere question of time, unless other nations interfere. Are
any prepared to do so? England and France are of course the only powers
to which Spain might look for aid to prevent her being robbed of her
last valuable colony. And would she not look to them in vain, at least
under present circumstances? I do not believe that the Spaniards reckon
on such assistance. The reflecting portion of the nation—those who think
upon the subject at all—seem convinced that the island must sooner or
later pass from them. Some would be disposed to sell it, whilst it still
has value, before the Americans feel so certain of getting it by other
means that they will no longer feel disposed to disburse. Others, on the
contrary, are for holding it to the last, burning the last cartridge
before giving in, and, as a last desperate resource, emancipating the
slaves. The most rational and profitable of the two courses would
doubtless be the sale. And yet, owing to the ignorance and national
conceit of a large number of Spaniards—who believe that the valour of
Spanish troops must always suffice to guard Cuba, and who have not
sufficient knowledge of the past and present history of the world to see
that in the course of nature they must lose it—it would be difficult for
any ministry to brave the storm of indignation that would here be raised
by the sale of the island. It could, of course, under the present
regime, be done only with the sanction of the Cortes; and perhaps the
wisest thing the Espartero ministry could do would be to bring forward
the subject when that body meets in November. To give advice to Spain
is, I am aware, a delicate thing for foreign governments to do, but the
men at present at the head of affairs here are not likely to mistake the
motive, or to take offence at a well-intended counsel. If England and
France be quite decided to take no steps towards the preservation of
Cuba to Spain, and if the government of this country be not already
perfectly aware of that decision, it would be but right to give it the
information, so that it might fairly and fully appreciate its position
and chances, and not delude itself with vain hopes, never to be
realised, of ultimate succour from powerful allies.
Assuredly no Spanish government was ever more in want than is the
present one of the pecuniary supplies which the sale of Cuba would place
at its disposal. The state of the finances of the country is lamentable,
and ministers are the more to be pitied, since their embarrassed
position is the consequence of no fault of theirs, but of the scandalous
misrule and malversation of several preceding governments, and
especially of that of Sartorius. The Spanish and English newspapers have
already supplied many details on this head. I will content myself with
throwing together a few of the principal and most striking facts. When
the present government assumed office, it found an empty treasury, and,
even worse than that, the resources on which it might have reckoned for
advances were already anticipated. There was no money anywhere. The
Sartorius-Domenech-Collantes ministry had made a clean sweep of
everything. The forced loan decreed on the 19th May, and which was to be
paid during the months of June and July, had not flowed in with that
gratifying rapidity announced by the organs of the _Polaco_ cabinet; but
nevertheless about four hundred and seventy thousand pounds sterling had
been collected, out of nearly two millions, which it was estimated that
it should yield. Of the £470,000, about £140, or thirteen thousand
reals, remained in the treasury. The confusion in the public accounts
rendered necessary the appointment of commissioners to investigate them,
and to report the real state of the finances. The labours of these
commissioners brought to light a whole system of iniquity and of
downright robbery. The most shameful jobs had been perpetrated; funds
set apart for particular purposes, and which could not legally be
otherwise employed, had been misappropriated; enormous amounts had been
expended in secret-service money, of which no account was to be found;
everything the government had to pay was in arrears, and all they had to
receive was in advance. The result of the examination was to exhibit a
balance against the treasury amounting to seven millions sterling, of
two and a half millions of which the payment was urgent. To meet this
heavy deficiency, equal to half a year’s revenue, the new ministry had
literally nothing but their good intentions and recognised
honesty—excellent things, but not always convertible into specie. The
consequences of the revolution added to their embarrassments. Nothing
was to be obtained from the provincial treasuries, which were found to
be nearly all empty, some of them having been drained to the last real
by the departed ministers; whilst in other cases there is reason to
conclude that the local juntas, formed during the revolution, had spent
the money. During the latter half of July, every place had its junta,
legislating as it thought fit, taking off taxes, admitting foreign goods
free of duty, sapping the foundations of the revenue. The effects of
this on the revenue for the month of July was a diminution of a quarter
of a million sterling, or fully one-fifth. Although, early in August,
the juntas were prohibited from passing laws and altering the
established system of the country, whilst since then many of them have
altogether dissolved themselves, fears are entertained that for some
months the revenue will continue below what it is in ordinary times. The
period of revolution was a jubilee for the smuggler. At some points of
the frontier he was suddenly converted into a fair trader by the
abolition, decreed by juntas, of all import duties. But, amidst the
confusion consequent on the revolution, he nowhere had any difficulty in
carrying on his commerce. From Gibraltar, from Portugal, from France,
foreign goods poured in, to the exhaustion of the smuggling depôts in
those three countries. Those large illicit importations must for some
time to come have a serious effect on the custom-house revenue. It is
predicted that the falling-off in the whole revenue for August will be
even greater than in that for July. This appears to me doubtful,
although nearly certain in the item of custom duties; and on the other
hand, we may hope the expenditure will be less under an honest and
economical government—whose economy, however, has not, in every
instance, been as rigorous as itself, I fully believe, earnestly
desired. The difficulties environing a government that is borne into
power in Spain on the billows of a revolution like that of 1854, are not
to be imagined by any who have not witnessed them. To form some faint
idea of them, one must be acquainted with the ramifications and extent
of the _empleomania_—mania for place—which is the great curse of Spain,
and which, when one beholds the extent to which it is carried, makes him
almost despair of the improvement of the nation. It were reasonable to
suppose that when Espartero and his colleagues took office, under as
difficult circumstances, certainly, as any set of men that ever accepted
it, even here, they would be allowed to give their whole time and
undivided attention to the necessities of the country, to the getting
rid of abuses, to the introduction of proper economics, to the adoption
of measures calculated to improve the wretched financial situation. Not
so: the idea of their supporters evidently was that their first duty was
the portioning out of places, not only to old friends, but to many new
ones—_libéraux du lendemain_. From the day they took office down to the
present date, ministers have been besieged, pestered, overwhelmed, by a
stream of applicants eager to live upon the budget. Espartero, from his
popularity and influence, was the chief victim of these cormorants. For
a very long time his anterooms were thronged from early morning till
late at night, by persons who could not go away, who _would_ see the
general, although perhaps the request they had to make had no possible
connection with his department, and should have been addressed to some
other minister, to the intendant of the palace, the captain-general of
the province, or the civil governor of Madrid. Sometimes, when there
were thirty or forty persons waiting at the door of his cabinet, all
deaf to the remonstrances of weary _aides-de-camp_, he would come out
himself, as if in despair at ever obtaining repose, despatch them all,
one after the other, as quickly as might be, and then retreat with his
secretary into his private room, giving orders that nobody should be
admitted, to try to get two or three hours’ uninterrupted work before
the usual hour for the sitting of the council arrived. And then the host
of letters—nearly all prayers and petitions, setting forth the services
and sufferings of the writers, and their strong claims to place or
patronage! The supplicants were of all kinds and classes; from the
colonel who thought his merits would not be over-rewarded by a
brigadier’s embroideries, from the aspirant to some fat berth of many
thousand reals a year, down to the suitor for a porter’s place or a
sergeant’s stripes, and even to individuals desirous of being appointed
_quitamanchas_, grease-spot extractors (fact) to the palace, and who
could think of no more fitting person to apply to than the
prime-minister. Ah this greedy mob pestered, and still pester, the
president of the council, and in a less degree the other ministers, with
their daily applications. The craving after place is disgusting to
behold, and extends, with a few honourable exceptions, through all
classes. As to patriotism in Spain, I have the utmost difficulty, after
witnessing what has followed upon this revolution, in crediting its
existence, except in the breasts of a small minority of the population.
Patriotism here appears to consist in turning out one party in order
that another may step into the enjoyment of the good things it
possessed. It is truly sickening to hear the selfish cuckoo-song of the
seekers after places, to hear them vaunt their past services, and tell
of their sufferings for the liberal cause during the eleven long years
that succeeded 1843—sufferings consisting, for the most part, when they
come to be inquired into, simply in exclusion from those loaves and
fishes for a share of which they now hungrily plead. With a certain and
too-numerous class of Spaniards, a man is a patriot and a martyr by the
mere fact of his drawing nothing from the treasury. There were many
persons who really had done great service to the triumphant cause; men
who had risked their lives, laboured hard, and been forward and most
useful in the hour of danger. These men, on account both of their merits
and of their abilities, had not to solicit, but were at once placed in
high and responsible situations. For each one appointed, how many
malcontents were made! Of these malcontents some must be conciliated;
others had claims which deserved attention, and which they had not
sufficient self-denial and love for their country altogether to
withdraw. Under these circumstances, how was it possible for the
government to economise as it should and might have done? The pressure
brought to bear upon it, the influences exerted, were more than it could
resist, and many a place was given that ought to have been suppressed in
the interest of Spain’s exhausted treasury. It gives small hope for the
future of a country when one sees even the best of her sons doing
nothing without hope of reward, nothing for the pure and disinterested
love of their native land. And to this rule, in Spain, I fear there are
but few exceptions.
A careful investigation and calm review of the present state of the
finances of Spain, leave upon the mind a strong doubt as to whether a
national bankruptcy can possibly be avoided. I have exposed the misery
of the treasury, as left by the ministry of Sartorius—seven millions
sterling deficiency, and not as many pence in the coffers of the State
for the pressing necessities of the new government. With some
difficulty, and by the aid of the signature of the San Fernando Bank,
the finance minister has obtained about fifty thousand pounds sterling,
secured on colonial revenues. Of course, a very short time will see the
last of that small sum; and what is then to be done, in presence of a
revenue which it is expected, with good show of reason, will, for some
time to come, be below an average? Economise, it may be said; but
economy is not to be effected, on an important scale, at a few days’
notice. It is probably in the army that reform and reduction, if made,
would most rapidly be felt. It is said to be the intention of the
minister of war greatly to reduce it; and no opportunity can be better
than the present, for when all the men who, in virtue of the boon of two
years’ remission of service lately granted to the whole army, have
completed their time, shall have received their discharge, the military
forces of Spain will probably be smaller than they ever have been since
the beginning of the Carlist war. The expense of the Spanish army is
about three millions sterling—an enormous burthen on the scanty revenue.
There are other burthens more difficult to diminish. The system pursued
in this country of turning out numbers of public officers and employés
when a new government comes in, to make room for its friends and
supporters, has loaded Spain with pensions, half-pay, and retired
allowances. These amount to a million and a half sterling. How is this
load to be lightened? But very gradually, it is evident;—by filling up
vacant places with pensioned men, whose pensions thereupon cease. To
abolish all those pensions not due to long service or ill-health would
be to condemn thousands of families to starvation, and to raise a storm
that no government could withstand. Such a sweeping measure would not be
just, nor is it practicable. A reform of the tariff is an obvious and
most effectual means of improving the financial position. Let the
government reduce the duties on foreign manufactured cottons to twenty
per cent _ad valorem_. The importations (chiefly contraband) of that
class of merchandise at present amounts, as I am informed, to about
three millions sterling. A twenty-per-cent duty would demolish the
smuggler, and yield the revenue six hundred thousand pounds a year.
Would it not then be possible for Spain to get a small loan on
reasonable terms, the coupons being accepted, as soon as due, in payment
of custom-house duties, and an arrangement, or the promise of an early
one, being at the same time made with respect to the amount of coupons
which Bravo Murillo laid upon the shelf? It is, however, unnecessary to
answer this question until we have reduced the duty. Here, again, great
difficulties present themselves, and jealous interests bar the way.
Catalonia and the smugglers would be in arms the very moment such a
measure was promulgated. Catalonia, which produces (I speak from
experience of its goods) wretched wares at exorbitant prices, has long
been the great impediment to Spain’s prosperity, or at least
improvement. That one province pretends to make the whole country buy
its inferior merchandise in preference to that of England and France;
and this pretension it enforces, to the great profit and contentment of
the contraband trader. Time and a strong government are needed to bring
about that reduction of duties on foreign manufactures which would prove
so great a benefit to Spain, and to its revenue. And at present, time is
wanting. Something must be done quickly. As things now stand, it is hard
to tell whence is to come the money for the next dividend on the home
and foreign debt. At this date but a small portion of the last dividend
due on the home debt has been paid. It has been suggested that much will
depend on the composition of the constituent Cortes. If the country
elects representatives who will support the present government, and so
give confidence in its duration and strength, it is thought that
capitalists will perhaps be found to come to its aid. But if the good
sense of Spanish electors prove unequal to the emergency—if they return
a Chamber composed of a mixture of demagogues and of partisans of
reaction, and not containing a good working majority in favour of the
policy of moderate progress, which is that of the Espartero-O’Donnell
cabinet—there is nothing but fresh trouble in store for Spain, and the
question of finance will then appear almost hopeless.
Whilst contemplating the gloomy, or at least uncertain, prospects of the
Spanish treasury, I am forcibly reminded of Cuba and of American
proposals for its purchase. I have not heard a statement of the exact
amount the States are disposed to give; but I have been assured, on no
mean authority, that it would suffice to pay off the whole of the debt,
home and foreign, and that a handsome surplus would still remain for
roads and railways. Besides these advantages, Cuba, once sold, Spain
might safely reduce her fleet and army, for she would then have no
reason to apprehend war with the United States, as she at present has
none to anticipate aggression or interference on the part of any
European power. Relieved of her heaviest burthens, and blessed with an
honest government (if indeed it be possible that such endure in a
country upon which the curse of misgovernment seems to rest), Spain
might soon and easily forget the loss of that cherished colony, whose
retention, under present circumstances, is more a question of pride than
of profit, and to whose loss without compensation, she must, I fear, by
the force of events, be prepared sooner or later to submit.