One hundred years ago the people of America were as much moved by
martial ardor as are the American people of to-day. The year 1762 was,
indeed, a far more warlike time than was 1862. "Great war" is now
confined to the territory of the United States, and exists neither in
Asia, Africa, nor Europe. Garibaldi's laudable attempt to get it up in
Italy failed dismally. There was a flash of spirit, and there were a few
flashes of gunpowder, and all was over. "The rest is silence." There are
numerous questions unsettled in the Old World, but the disputants are
inclined to wait for settlement, it would seem, until our affairs shall
have been brought into a healthful state. Europeans complain that our
quarrel has wrought them injury, and very great injury, too. They are
right as to the fact. England has suffered more from the consequences of
the Southern Rebellion than have the Free States of the Union, and
France quite as much, and Spain as severely as any one of our States. In
Germany, in Switzerland, and in Belgium, thousands of families have had
bitter reasons for joining in the cry that Americans do not know how to
manage their politics. We have heard of riots in Moravia, not far from
the scene of Lafayette's imprisonment and that of Napoleon's greatest
victory, caused by the scarcity of cotton. Yankee cloths that used to go
into remote and barbarous regions, through the medium of the
caravan-commerce, will be known no more there for some time. Perhaps
those African chiefs who had condescended to shirt themselves, thus
taking a step toward civilization, will have to fall back upon their
skins, because Mr. Jefferson Davis and some others of the Southern
Americans chose to make war on their country, and so stop the supply of
cotton. The "too-many-shirts" cry, which so revolted the benevolent
heart of Mr. Carlyle twenty years since, has ceased to be heard. The
supply is getting exhausted. The old shirts are vanishing, and the new
ones, instead of being of good stout cloth, are of such stuff as dreams
are made of. There might be a new version of "The Song of the Shirt"
published, specially adapted to the state of the times, and which would
come home to the bosoms and backs of many men. Mr. Davis's war may be
considered as a personal one against all civilized men, for it affects
every one's person. The great civil war between Charles I. and the
English Parliament was in part caused by soap, which the monopolists
made of so bad a quality that it destroyed the clothes which it should
have cleaned. Of "the monopolers and polers of the people," as he called
them, Sir John Culpeper said, "We find them in the dye-fat, the
wash-bowl, and the powdering-tub." As a monarchy was made to fall
through the monopoly of soap and other ordinary articles, so was it
purposed that a republic should be crushed through the monopoly of the
material from which the sheets and shirts of laborers are manufactured.
There was not much chivalry in the basis of Southern power, but most
grand revolutions are brought about by acting on the lives of the
masses, who are more easily moved by appeals to their sense of immediate
interest than by reference to the probable consequences of a certain
kind of political action. Our party-men know this, and hence it is,
that, while they have not much to say about the excellence of slavery,
they ask the Irish to oppose the overthrow of that institution, on the
ground, that, if it were to cease to exist, all the negroes of the South
would come to the North, and work for a dime a day,--which nonsense
there are some persons so ignorant as to believe.
To return to 1762: the people of the Colonies were as martially disposed
as are the people of the States in these days. "In the heat of the Old
French War," says Mr. Hawthorne, speaking of the inhabitants of New
England, "they might be termed a martial people. Every man was a
soldier, or the father or brother of a soldier; and the whole land
literally echoed with the roll of the drum, either beating up for
recruits among the towns and villages, or striking the march toward the
frontier. Besides the provincial troops, there were twenty-three British
regiments in the northern colonies. The country has never known a period
of such excitement and warlike life, except during the
Revolution,--perhaps scarcely then; for that was a lingering war, and
this a stirring and eventful one." There has not been so much movement
in the Secession War as characterized that in which our ancestors were
engaged a century ago, and which was fought in America and in India, in
Germany and in Portugal, in Italy and in Africa, in France and in
Bohemia. As the great Lisbon earthquake had been felt on the shores of
Ontario, so had the war which began the year of that earthquake's
occurrence shaken the world that lay on the American lakes. Forty years
ago, old men talked as much of the Old French War--the Seven Years' War
of European historians--as of the War of the Revolution. It was a
contest but for the happening of which there could have been no American
Revolution, at least none of the character that now occupies so high a
place in history. Or, had it happened, and had the event been different,
our annals would have been made to read differently, and the Fourth of
July could never have become an institution. It opened well for the
French, and, had not fortune changed, the colonists, instead of looking
to Paris for aid, only a dozen years after its conclusion, might have
been ruled by proconsuls sent from that "centre of civilization," as it
delights to call itself. And even if the terms of the treaty which put
an end to that war had been a little differently arranged, England might
have triumphed in the war that she carried on against our ancestors.
Both the war itself, and the manner of concluding it, were necessary to
the creation of that American empire which, according to Earl Russell,
we are fighting to maintain,--as unquestionably we are, though not in
the ignoble sense in which the noble Earl meant that his words should be
taken and understood.
Of the many conquests which were made by the English in the Seven Years'
War, no one was more remarkable than that which placed the Havana and
its neighborhood in their hands, virtually giving them possession of the
island of Cuba; and the manner in which they disposed of their
magnificent prize, when George III. forced peace upon his unwilling
subjects, was among the causes of their failure to conquer the Thirteen
States in the War for Independence.
That England should have been favored with the opportunity to seize Cuba
was not the least singular of the incidents of a contest that was waged
wherever Christians could meet for the pious purpose of cutting one
another's throats. The English owed it to the hatred for them that was
felt by one man, who assailed them in their hour of triumph, in the hope
of gratifying his love of revenge, but who reaped only new humiliations
from his crusade. He had better luck in after days; but in 1762 he must
have entertained some pretty strong doubts as to the wisdom of hating
his neighbors, and of allowing that sentiment to get the better of his
judgment. Charles III., King of the Spains, the best of all the Spanish
Bourbons, had, when he was King of Naples, been most grossly insulted by
a British naval commander, and he had had to swallow the affront. "Being
a good Christian, and vindictive," though he swallowed the affront, he
could not digest it. He cherished the hope of being able to repay the
English with that usurious interest with which men of all grades love to
discharge their debts of the kind. He little thought that he was to wait
near forty years for the settlement of his account, and that a
generation was to pass away before he should be able to feel as Loredano
felt when he heard of the death of Francesco Foscari.
The fortunes of France have seldom been lower than they were in 1759,
when the energy of William Pitt had imparted itself to the whole of the
alliance which was acting against Louis XV. That year, Charles III.
ascended the Spanish throne. For some time he was apparently disposed to
continue the judicious system of neutrality which had been adopted and
pursued by his predecessor; but in 1760, partly from his fear of British
power, and partly because of the insulting conduct, of England, which
revived his recollection of her officer's action at Naples in 1742, he
was induced to enter into that arrangement which is known as the Family
Compact, (_Pacte de Famille_,) which was destined to have the most
memorable consequences,--consequences that are far from being now
exhausted. By the terms of this treaty, the sovereign princes of the
House of Bourbon agreed to support each other against all enemies. The
wisdom of this compact, on the part of France, cannot be doubted, for
her condition was so bad that it could not be made much worse, happen
what would, and it might be changed for the better through the
assistance of Spain; but it is not so clear that they were as wise at
Madrid as were the statesmen at Paris. Mr. Pitt obtained intelligence of
this treaty's existence, though it was "a profound secret," of course;
but then Mr. Pitt always had good intelligence, because he was ready to
pay roundly for it, knowing that it was the best article for which a
war-minister could lay out his money. The object of keeping secret an
arrangement that depended for its usefulness upon open action was, that
time might be gained for the arrival of the Spanish treasure-ships from
America. Mr. Pitt, who was as wise as he was arrogant, was for taking
immediate measures against Spain. He would have declared war at once,
and have seized the plate fleet. Had George II. still lived, this
judicious course--all boldness is judicious in war, in which there is
nothing so imprudent as prudence--would have been adopted. But that
monarch died on the 25th of October, 1760, and his grandson and
successor, George III., had domestic objects to accomplish with which
the continuance of the war was incompatible. His intention was to make
peace with France, and he must have deemed it the height of folly to
make war on Spain. Pitt, finding his advice disregarded, resigned his
office, much to the joy of most of his colleagues, whom he had treated
as if they had been the lackeys of his lackeys. How they ever got along
with him through one month is among the mysteries of statesmanship.
President Jackson was not the mildest of men, but he was meekness itself
in comparison with the first William Pitt.
But if Pitt was offensive to his colleagues, he was even more offensive
to the enemies of his country. In a few weeks after he left the
Ministry, the justice of his views became clear even to the young King
and to Lord Bute, the latter personage having virtually made himself
Premier. The Spanish Government, in compliance with the terms of the
Family Compact, made war on England, and that country lost most of the
advantages which would have been hers, if the King had been governed by
Pitt's advice. The treasure-ships reached Spain in safety, and their
cargoes furnished the new belligerent with the sinews of war. So far as
they could, the English Ministers resolved to carry on the war with
Spain in conformity with the plan which Pitt had formed. One of his
projects was to send a force to seize the Havana, which, though not the
important place that it now is, in itself, was nevertheless one of the
most valuable of the commmanding points of the Spanish Indies. At that
time the colonial dominion of Spain embraced the greater part of
America, and the Havana was regarded as the key to the Occidental
possessions of Charles III.[5] This key Secretary Pitt had meant to
seize; and his successors, forced to act, availed themselves of the
preparations which he had made. An expedition sailed from Spithead on
the 5th of March, 1762, which was joined by other forces, the whole
number of vessels being almost two hundred, of which about a fifth were
ships of war. The total of the land-forces, including those sent from
North America, was 14,041. The fleet was commanded by Admiral Sir George
Pocock, and the army by General the Earl of Albemarle. Lord Albemarle
was descended from that Arnold van Keppel who came into England, not
with William the Conqueror, but with William of Orange, and who, through
the favor of the Dutch King of England, founded one of the most
respectable of British patrician houses. He was a good soldier, and in
Cuba he showed considerable energy; but his name is not high in the list
of commanders.
It is uncertain whether the Spaniards had knowledge of the intentions of
the English, who, in those days, did not announce their points of attack
to the enemy; but the Captain-General, Don Juan de Prado Porto Carrero,
found it so very difficult to believe that the English would attack his
Government, that even so late as the 6th of June, when the invaders were
within a few hours of landing, he insisted that their fleet was a
homeward-bound convoy from Jamaica; and he found fault with one of his
officers who had taken some precautionary measures. The next day he was
compelled to admit that he was mistaken, for then the British troops had
landed. He could not have been more blind to the coming storm, had he
lived in 1861, and held a high post in the Government of the United
States. Once convinced of his error, he went vigorously to work, and
prepared for defence. He had 27,610 men, including soldiers, seamen,
marines, militia, and negroes,--for, in those days, it was not thought
wise to refuse the services of black men, and even slaves were allowed
the honor of being slain in the service of their masters. There were,
however, but few regular troops at the command of the
Captain-General,--only 4,610; but the seamen and marines, who numbered
9,000, helped to make the deficiency good. The Spaniards were situated
somewhat as were the Russians, the other day, at Sebastopol. Their naval
force was too small to have any chance whatever against that of the
English, and the men who belonged to it were employed on land, where
they behaved bravely. The best officers among the defenders were from
the fleet. The Morro was put under the charge of Don Luis de Velasco,
captain of a line-of-battle ship, who maintained the credit of his
ancient name; and he was well supported by the Marques de Gonzales,
another naval officer. Don Manuel Brizeñio, also from the fleet, with a
brother-officer for his lieutenant, had charge of the Punta castle. The
army-officers did not like these arrangements, but it was argued that
seamen were better qualified than either cavalry or infantry to defend
fortified places; and of regular artillerists there were but three
hundred in the whole Spanish force. These considerations had their
weight with the soldiers, and the conduct of the seamen fully justified
the conduct of the Captain-General.
The English troops were landed on the 7th of June, and Colonel
Carleton--the Sir Guy Carleton of our Revolutionary history--repulsed a
cavalry attack that was made upon a detachment under his command. This
so disheartened the Spaniards, that they abandoned the position which
they had taken up at Guanabacoa for the purpose of impeding the advance
of the invaders, and fell back on the Havana. The women and children,
with the monks and nuns, were all sent out of the town, and the suburbs
destroyed. On the 11th, the Cabaña fortress, which commands the Morro,
was taken by Colonel Carleton. The Spaniards also abandoned the Chorrera
fort, on the other side. Operations against the Morro were then begun.
The English suffered much from the heat, and a little from the assaults
of the defenders; and, though greatly aided by the fleet, it was not
until the 1st of July that they were able to open fire on the Morro.
Among their laborers were five hundred black slaves, purchased at
Antigua and Martinique. Fatigue and sickness had reduced the army's
strength more than one-third, without counting the soldiers who had
died, or been slain by the Spanish fire; and three thousand seamen also
were unfit for duty. Water was procured with difficulty, and fresh
provisions were almost unknown.
The land-batteries opened on the Morro July 1st, and were supported by a
fire from several ships. The latter were roughly received by the
Spaniards, and lost one hundred and eighty-two men, besides being
greatly damaged in hull, masts, and rigging, so that they were forced to
abandon the conflict, without having made any impression on the
fortress, though they had effected an important diversion in favor of
the land-batteries, the fire from which had proved most injurious. On
the 2d there were but two guns in condition to bear upon the besiegers.
The latter, however, had a worse enemy than the Spaniards to contend
against, the heat causing fires in their works that neither earth nor
water could extinguish; and they had to remove their mortars from the
left parallel, and substitute cannon. This was the crisis of the siege;
and had a hurricane occurred, as was expected, the fleet would have been
driven off, and the army probably captured. But no storm came, and the
English, with characteristic stubbornness, repaired their damaged works,
and erected others. On the 9th they renewed their fire, having twelve
guns, and the Spaniards but nine. The English increased the strength of
their batteries, while the Spanish guns were reduced to two by the 16th;
and on the 17th the castle made no reply to the fire of the Valiant, a
line-of-battle ship. Sapping-operations began that evening, and on the
18th a small lodgment was effected. The Spanish commander made a morning
sally against the besiegers in three columns, which, if successful,
would have necessitated the abandonment of the siege; but the first and
second columns were driven back with heavy loss, and the third retreated
without firing a shot. In this action a battalion of North Americans
bore a prominent part, aiding to drive the first Spanish column to the
water, where one hundred and fifty men were drowned. The total loss of
the assailants was four hundred, besides those wounded who returned into
the town.
The result of this action decided the fate of the Morro. The work of
sapping went on. Reinforcements arrived from New York; and on the 30th
a practicable breach was made. Lord Albemarle had previously summoned
Don Luis de Velasco to surrender, in the most complimentary terms; but
the gallant Spaniard declined to abandon his duty, preferring death to
dishonor. On the afternoon of the 30th, the English storming-party,
headed by Lieutenant Forbes, of the Royals, mounted the breach, taking
the defenders by surprise, and dispersing them. Don Luis disdained to
fly, and was mortally wounded. He lived until the afternoon of the 31st,
receiving every possible attention from the victors, who sent him over
to the Havana, where he was buried with military honors. His son was
created Vizconde del Morro, and it was ordered that in the Spanish navy
there should always be a ship named Velasco.
The storming of the castle cost the English but two officers and thirty
men. The Spaniards lost five hundred and thirty men, besides those who
were drowned in seeking to reach the town. During the siege the Spanish
loss exceeded a thousand men. The conquerors found a large number of
cannon, mortars, muskets, and hand-grenades, and great quantities of
powder and ball, and fixed ammunition, in the castle.
As soon as the fortress had fallen, the Spaniards opened fire on it,
which was directed principally against the water-tank. The English
carried on their works on both sides of the city, and on the 10th of
August Lord Albemarle summoned the Governor to capitulate. After a long
detention, the flag was sent back without an answer. It was not until
the forenoon of the 11th that the English opened fire upon the city,
their batteries containing forty-five guns. That regard for "unoffending
inhabitants" with which the English of 1847 were afflicted, when
American guns fired on Vera Cruz, was not felt by their ancestors of
1762. Judging from the language of English writers, we should infer that
England has a vested right to pound and pulverize all places that refuse
to acknowledge her supremacy but that such conduct as distinguished her
troops at Copenhagen and elsewhere is wanton butchery when imitated by
the military of other nations. Be that as it may, it is a fact that the
British batteries pounded the Havana savagely on the 11th of August, one
hundred and one years ago, without causing any alarm to either Lord
Albemarle or his army as to the opinion of their countrymen; and the
pounding-match was so pronouncedly in favor of the English, that by two
o'clock in the afternoon the Spaniards offered to surrender. A
suspension of hostilities followed, and the negotiations ended in the
capitulation of the place on the 13th of August. At ten o'clock on the
14th, the Punta was taken possession of by General Keppel; and two hours
later, the city gate and battery of that name. The landward gate was
held by Colonel Howe, the Sir William Howe of our Revolutionary War. The
number of regular troops who became prisoners was nine hundred and
ninety-three, without counting the sick or wounded, and including both
men and officers. They were sent on board the English ships.
The terms granted by the English were honorable to both parties. The
Spanish troops marched out with all the honors of war. The officers were
allowed to preserve all their personal effects. Civil officers were
permitted to remain on the island, or to leave it, as they should elect.
Everything that belonged to the Spanish army or navy, that was within
the limits of the territory surrendered, became prize of war. The
Catholic religion was to be maintained in all its force, but the
nomination of all religious functionaries was to be subject to the
approval of the English Governor. The inhabitants were to be protected
in all their rights, and might go or stay, as they should think best for
their interest. There were other liberal provisions made, indicative of
a desire on the part of the conquerors to behave handsomely toward the
conquered. The only portion of the property of the King of Spain which
the victors allowed him to retain consisted of his slaves, of which he
was left at liberty to dispose as he might think proper. England was
then a slave-holding and a slave-trading nation, and she could not
afford to set the example of disregarding the right of man to hold
property in men. Though the age of cotton had not then dawned, the age
of conscience was quite as far below the moral horizon.
Besides the Havana and its immediate territory, the terms of the
surrender placed in the hands of the English as much of the island of
Cuba as extended one hundred and eighty miles to the west, which
belonged to the government of the place. This was a great conquest, and
it was in the power of the conquerors to become masters of the whole
island.
The most remarkable fact connected with the conquest of Cuba was the
success with which the English contended, not only against a valiant
enemy, but against the difficulties of climate. No severer trial was
ever presented to troops than that which they encountered and overcame
on the Cuban coast at a time of the year when that coast is at its
worst; and it was a much more unhealthy quarter then than it is to-day.
They had to bear up against drought, heat, hunger, thirst, sickness, and
the fire of the Spaniards; and they stood in constant danger of being
separated from their supporting fleet, which had no sufficient shelter,
and might have been destroyed, if a tropical hurricane had set in. Yet
against all these evils they bore up, and, with very inferior means,
succeeded in accomplishing their purpose, and in making one of the
greatest conquests of the most brilliant war in which their country ever
was engaged. All this they did with but little loss, comparatively
speaking. They had 346 men and officers killed or mortally wounded; 620
wounded; 691 died from sickness or fatigue; and 130 were missing. This
loss, 1790 in all, exclusive of the casualties on shipboard, cannot be
considered large, for it could not have been above one-eighth part of
the invading force, counting the reinforcements that arrived while the
siege was going on. Compared with the enormous losses of life and limb
that characterize our war, it is a mere bagatelle; and the magnitude of
the prize is to be set off in contrast to the price which it cost. Some
of the regiments employed, however, were destined to suffer severely
from the effects of their visit to Cuba; for, being sent to New York,
the severity of a North-American winter was too much for constitutions
that had been subjected for months to the heats of the tropics. They
were Irishly decimated, losing about nine-tenths of their men.[6]
If we can believe the Spaniards,--and we see no reason for doubting the
substantial correctness of their assertions,--Lord Albemarle's
government was one of much severity, and even cruelty. He ruled the
Havana with a bundle of _fasces_, the rods being of iron, and the axe
sharp, and which did not become rusty from want of use. It was enough
that a man was "guilty of being suspected" to insure him a drum-head
court-martial, which tribunal sent many men to the scaffold, sometimes
denying them religious consolations, an aggravation of punishment
peculiarly terrible to Catholics, and which seems to have been wantonly
inflicted, and in a worse spirit than that of the old persecutors, for
it had not even fanaticism for its excuse. The spirit of the
capitulation seems to have been quite disregarded, though its letter may
have been adhered to. There may be some exaggeration in the Spanish
statements, too,--men who are subject to military rule generally looking
at the conduct of their governors through very powerful glasses. It is
impossible for them to do otherwise; and the mildest proconsul that ever
ruled must still be nothing but a proconsul, even if he were an angel.
Every man thus placed is entitled to as charitable construction of his
conduct as can conscientiously be made; but this the English do not
appear to understand, when the conduct of men of other races is
canvassed. With their own history blotched all over with cruel acts
perpetrated by their military commanders, they set themselves up to
judge of the deeds of the generals of other peoples, as if they alone
could furnish impartial courts for the rendering of historical verdicts.
Their treatment of some American commanders, and particularly General
Butler, is not decent in a people whose officers have wantonly poured
out blood, often innocent, in nearly every country under the sun. There
was more cruelty practised by the English in any one month of the Sepoy
War than has disgraced both sides of the Secession contest for the two
years through which it has been waged. The English are not a cruel
people,--quite the reverse,--but it is a fact that their military
history abounds more in devilish acts than that of any other people of
corresponding civilization. The reason of this is, that they look upon
all men who resist them in some such spirit as the Romans regarded their
foes, and as being in some sense rebels. It is only with those who rebel
against other Governments that those who live under the English
Government ever sympathize.
The capture of the Havana produced a "sensation" in the North-American
colonies. The news was a month in reaching this part of the country, and
Philadelphia, the most important place in British America, had the
pleasure of first hearing it in fourteen days from the seat of war. It
was "expressed" to New York, which town got it on the 11th of September;
and it was published in the Boston "Gazette" of Monday, September 13th,
the same day on which our ancestors were gratified by the publication of
the London "Gazette" Extraordinary giving a detailed account of Prince
Ferdinand's victory at Wilhelmsthal, on the 24th of June. There is not a
line of editorial comment, but the news is clearly and vigorously given,
special mention being made of the spoil, which included, according to
one authority, fourteen million milled dollars. It is stated, in
conclusion, that "the Spanish families that had withdrawn from the city
to the country were all returned with their baggage, and were in
possession of their habitations; and some soldiers and English Negroes
were hanged for committing some small thefts on them." In the "Gazette"
of September 20th there are published some details of the operations in
Cuba; and under the "Boston head" is a brief account of the rejoicings
that took place in Boston, on the 16th, in honor of the great event, and
of British successes in Germany. "In the morning," says the account,
"His Excellency, [Governor Bernard,] accompanied by the two Houses of
Assembly, attended divine service at the Old Brick Meeting House, and a
sermon well adapted to this joyful occasion was preached by the Rev. Dr.
SEWALL: At 12 o'clock the cannon at Castle William and the batteries in
this town and Charlestown were discharged: In the afternoon the Bells
rang; and His Excellency with the two Houses was escorted by his Company
of Cadets to Concert Hall, where a fine piece of music was performed, to
the satisfaction of a very large assembly; and in the evening there were
beautiful illuminations, and a great variety of fire works in many parts
of the town.... We hear there has also been great rejoicings on the late
success of the British arms in most of the neighboring towns,
particularly at Charlestown, Salem, and Marblehead, where were
illuminations, bonfires, and other demonstrations of joy." Old
newspapers, letters, and pamphlets show that "demonstrations of joy"
were far from being confined to New-England towns. They extended over
the whole of the thirteen colonies, every man in which was proud of
belonging to a nation which had achieved such great things in a war that
had opened most gloomily, as do most English and American contests. The
conquest of Canada had removed a weight from the colonial mind that had
preyed upon it for generations; and though not one man in a hundred, it
is probable, thought of the vast consequences that were to follow from
the victories of Wolfe and Amherst, it is certain that those victories
had greatly exalted the American heart; and now that they were followed
by the conquest of Cuba, made at the expense of a great nation with
which England was at peace when Quebec and Montreal had passed into her
possession, it is not strange that our ancestors should have become more
impressed than ever with the honor of belonging to the British empire.
They were not only loyal, but they were loyal to a point that resembled
fanaticism. It has been said of them that they were "as loyal to their
prince and as proud of their country as the people of Kent or
Yorkshire,"--and these words do not exaggerate what was the general
sentiment of the colonists in 1762. England was still "home" to them,
though more than a hundred and fifty years had gone by since the first
permanent English colony was founded in America; and to the feeling that
belonged to the inhabitants of England the colonists added that
reverence which is created for the holders of power by remoteness from
their presence and want of familiarity. Such was the condition of
America a century ago, but soon to be changed through conduct on the
part of George III., conduct that amounted to a crime, and for which no
defence can be made but that of insanity,--a defence but too well
founded in this instance. The sense of the colonists, therefore, was
well expressed by Governor Bernard, when, on the 23d of September, he
put forth a proclamation, at the request of the Assembly, for a Public
Thanksgiving on the 7th of October. After enumerating various causes for
thankfulness that existed, all of which relate to victories won in
different parts of the world, His Excellency proceeds to say,--"But
above all, with hearts full of gratitude and amazement, we must
contemplate the glorious and important conquest of the Havana; which,
considering the strength of the place, the resolution of the defendants,
and the unhealthiness of the climate, seems to have the visible hand of
God in it, and to be designed by His Providence to punish the pride and
injustice of that Prince who has so unnecessarily made himself a party
in this war."
Thus did our fathers rejoice over a great military success which gave
additional glory to a country to which they were proud to belong. Nor
were they insensible to the solid gains of that success, which, indeed,
they overrated, not only because they supposed the conquered territory
would be retained by the conquerors, but because they believed the
immediate fruits of victory were far greater than they proved to be. In
the Boston "Gazette" of September 20th it is stated that one of the
captured Spanish ships had five million dollars on board, that almost
forty million dollars in specie had already been counted, and that the
share of Lord Albemarle would give him an income of twelve thousand
pounds per annum, and Admiral Pocock was to have an equal amount.
In our time, politicians have the advantage of all other men in the
matter of spoils. Such was not the state of things one hundred years
ago. The politicians were as well off in those times as they are in
these,--perhaps they were bettor off, for things could then be openly
done by civilians, in the way of plundering, that the men of to-day have
to do as secretly as good Christians say their prayers. There were also
many lucrative offices then in existence which have since disappeared
under the labors of those economical reformers of whom Edmund Burke was
the first in every respect. But in 1762 military men had "rights" which
this modern world has ceased to regard as utterly as if all soldiers
were Negroes. One hundred years ago it was not an uncommon thing for a
successful general to win as much gold on a victorious field as glory.
It was the sunsetting time of the age of plunder; and the sun set very
brilliantly. The solid gains of heroes were then so great that their
mere statement in figures affects the reader's mind, and perverts his
judgment of their actions. Not quite twenty years earlier, the gallant
Anson made his famous cruise round the world; and when he took the
Manila galleon, he found in her, besides other booty, silver of the
value of a million and a half of dollars, to defend which the Spaniards
fought as men generally fight for their money. Five years before
Albemarle took the Havana, Clive took, for his own share of Surajah
Doulah's personals, over a million of dollars, from the treasury of
Moorshedabad. That was the prize of Plassey. A little later, he accepted
a present in land that must have been worth over two million of dollars,
as the annual income it yielded was twenty-seven thousand pounds, or
about one hundred and thirty thousand dollars. Other British proconsuls
were also fortunate in India. The same year that saw the English flag
flying over so much of Cuba saw another English force, commanded by Sir
William Draper, reduce the Philippine Islands, taking possession of the
whole group by virtue of a capitulation. The naval force that
accompanied Draper captured the Acapulco galleon, which had a cargo of
the value of three million dollars. The English attacked Manila without
the Spanish garrison's having had any official notification of the
existence of hostilities. The town was defended by the Archbishop, who
behaved with bravery, and showed considerable skill in war; but after
some days' fighting the English got into the town by storming it, and
then gave it up to the rough mercies of a hardened soldiery, some of
whom were Sepoys, a description of warriors of whom the English now ask
us to believe all that is abominable. Manila was most savagely treated
by heathen soldiers led by Christian chiefs, a fact to be commended to
the consideration of those humane Englishmen who can with difficulty
breathe while reading General Butler's arrangement for the maintenance
of order in New Orleans. The Archbishop and some of the officers got
into the citadel, and there they negotiated a capitulation. They agreed
to ransom their property by paying down two million dollars, and by
drawing bills for a like sum upon the Spanish treasury, which bills
Draper was green enough to accept. The Spanish Government refused to pay
the bills when they had matured, and though Draper entreated the English
Ministers to interpose in behalf of himself and his comrades, no
interposition could he induce them to make. When Sir William was so
unwise as to run a course of pointed pens with "Junius," that free
lancer, who upset men of all degrees as easily as Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe
unhorsed the knights-challengers in the lists at Ashby, brought up the
Manila business, and, with his usual hardihood, charged his antagonist
with having most dishonorably given up the ransom, and with having sold
his comrades. Sir William, who had volunteered in defence of his friend,
Lord Granby, (the same gentleman who used to figure on sign-boards, and
whose name was then as much in English mouths as General Meade's is on
American tongues to-day,) soon had to fight in his own defence, and he
made a very poor figure in the contest. In a letter from Clifton, to the
printer of the "Public Advertiser," he wrote,--"I here most solemnly
declare, that I never received either from the East India Company, or
from the Spaniards, directly or indirectly, any present or gratification
or any circumstance of emolument whatsoever, to the amount of five
shillings, during the whole course of the expedition, or afterwards, my
legal prize-money excepted. The Spaniards know that I refused the sum of
fifty thousand pounds offered me by the Archbishop, to mitigate the
terms of the ransom, and to reduce it to half a million, instead of a
whole one; so that, had I been disposed to have basely sold the partners
of my victory, Avarice herself could not have wished for a richer
opportunity." Sir William's language is valuable, as showing what sort
of prizes were then in the wheel of Fortune, with military men only to
take tickets. More than one British house of high consideration owes its
affluence to the good luck of some ancestor in the noble art of pillage.
Yet how often do we come across, in English books, denunciations of the
deeds of plunder done by the French in Spain and Portugal! Shall we ever
hear the last of Maréchal Soult's Murillos? It was but yesterday that
the Koh-i-Noor was stolen by the English, and added to the crown-jewels
of Great Britain; and it was exhibited at the Crystal Palace in 1851,
where it must have been regarded as a proof of the skill of the
_Chevaliers d'Industrie_. Why it should be lawful and honorable to seize
diamonds, and unlawful and improper to seize pictures, we cannot say;
but Mr. Stirling, in his "Annals of the Artists of Spain," says, "Soult
at Seville, and Sebastiani at Granada, collected with unerring taste and
unexampled rapacity, and, having thus signalized themselves as robbers
in war, became no less eminent as picture-dealers in peace." Was it more
immoral in Maréchal le Due de Dalmatie to take Murillos than it was in
Field-Marshal the Duke of Wellington to take the lead in cutting the
Koh-i-Noor, the pictures as well as the diamond being spoil of war?
There is something eminently absurd in English morality, when Englishmen
seek to lay down rules for the governance of the world. It amounts to
this: that they shall be at liberty to plunder everybody, but that all
other men shall stay their hands, no matter how great may be the
temptation, to help themselves to their enemies' goods.
The conquerors of the Havana had no scruples on the subject of plunder.
They obtained, in treasure and other property, about fourteen millions
of dollars,--a great sum, though not a third part so large as had been
assigned them by the newspapers. Not content with this, they sought to
get a donation from the citizens, to the amount of two hundred thousand
dollars; but the attempt failed, and was not persisted in, when it was
found that the Spaniards were utterly averse to giving on compulsion. A
demand was made, through Colonel Cleveland, who commanded the artillery,
"on the Bishop and the clergy, requiring an account of the bells of the
churches, convents, and monasteries of the Havana and the other towns in
the district, as well as of the _ingenios_ in the neighborhood, and of
all such metal as is used in the making of bells, in order that the
value might be adjusted, and the amount paid, according, as he asserted,
to the laws and customs of war, when a city after a siege has
surrendered by capitulation." The astonished Bishop wrote to Lord
Albemarle, and had the satisfaction of learning from that eminent
authority, that, "when a city was besieged and taken, the commander of
the artillery receives a gratification, and that Colonel Cleveland had
made the demand with his Lordship's concurrence." This mode of kissing
the rod was not at all to the taste of the worthy prelate, excellent
Christian though he was. It was bad enough to give "a gratification" to
an enemy because he had pounded them with balls until they had been
forced to surrender; but it was an aggravation of the original evil to
have to redeem "blessed bells" from the heretics who had come four
thousand miles to disturb the repose of the Spanish Indies. But
negotiation was unavoidable. What would the Colonel take, and close the
transaction? The Colonel said he would take such a sum as the captured
churches could reasonably contribute to his purse. He was offered one
thousand dollars; but that he treated as a mistake, and to assist the
reverend and venerable negotiators to a conclusion, he named thirty
thousand dollars. To this they objected, and appealed to Lord Albemarle
against the demand of his officer. His Lordship, with his pockets
crammed with Spanish gold, was disposed to act handsomely in this
instance, and cut down the Colonel's bill to ten thousand dollars. But
even this sum the clergy professed themselves utterly unable to pay.
According to their own showing, they were genuine successors of the
Apostles, being without a penny in their purses. They began to beg for
aid; but, either because the Spaniards were sulky with the Saints for
having allowed the heretics to succeed, or that they did not wish to
attract the attention of those heretics to their property, the begging
business did not pay. Only one hundred and three dollars could be
collected. This failure was made known to Lord Albemarle, but he kept a
profound silence, sending no reply to the clergy's plaintive
communication. They, however, had not long to wait for an answer.
Colonel Cleveland waited upon them again, and said, that, as the cash
was not forthcoming, he should content himself with taking the bells,
all of which must be taken down, and delivered to him on the 4th of
September. After this there was no further room for negotiation with a
gentleman who commanded great guns. The Bishop handed over the ten
thousand dollars, and the Colonel departed from his presence. The bells
remained in their proper places, and some of them, no doubt, remain
there to this day, the bell being long-lived, and making sweet music
years after Albemarle, Cleveland, and the rest of the spoilmen have gone
to their account.
Lord Albemarle had a correspondence with the Bishop respecting the use
of one of the churches as a place of Protestant worship, and laid down
the cannon law so strongly and clearly, that the prelate, after making
such resistance as circumstances admitted of,--and he would not have
been a good Catholic, if he had done less,--told him to take whichever
church he chose; and he took that of the Franciscans. His Lordship,
however, was much more devoted to the worship of Mammon than to the
worship of God, and, accordingly, on the 19th of October, he wrote to
the Bishop concerning the donation-dodge, in the following polite and
peremptory terms;--"Most Illustrious Sir, I am sorry to be under the
necessity of writing to your Lordship what ought to have been thought of
some days ago, namely, a donation from the Church to the
Commander-in-Chief of the victorious army. The least that your Lordship
can offer will be one hundred thousand dollars. I wish to live in peace
with your Lordship and with the Church, as I have shown in all that has
hitherto occurred, and I hope that your Lordship will not give me reason
to alter my intentions. I kiss your Lordship's hand. Your humble
servant, Albemarle." The Bishop, though a clever and clear-sighted man,
could not see this matter in the light in which Lord Albemarle looked
upon it. He thought the demand a violation of the terms of surrender;
and he sought the mediation of Admiral Pocock, but without strengthening
his position. To a demand for the list of benefices, coupled with the
declaration that non-compliance would lead to the Bishop's being
proclaimed a violator of the treaty, the prelate replied, that he would
refer the matter, and some others, to the courts of Spain and England.
Upon this the British General lost all patience, and issued a
proclamation, declaring "that the conduct of the Bishop was seditious;
that he had forgotten that he was now a subject of Great Britain; and
that it was absolutely necessary he should be expelled from the island,
and sent to Florida in one of the British ships of war, in order that
public tranquillity might be maintained, and that good correspondence
and harmony might continue between the new and the old subjects of the
King, which the conduct of the Bishop had visibly interrupted." The
whole of this business presents the English commander in a most
contemptible light. Not content with the six hundred thousand dollars
which he had already pocketed, as his share of the spoil, he assumed the
part of Bull Beggar toward the Bishop, in the hope that he might extort
one hundred thousand dollars more from the Church, for his own personal
benefit, for the "donation" was not to go into the common stock; and
when his threats failed, he turned tyrant at the expense of a venerable
officer of the most ancient of Christian churches. What an outcry would
be raised in England, if an American commander were to make a similar
display of avarice and cruelty!
The manner in which the spoil was divided among the conquerors caused
much ill-feeling, and not unnaturally. Lord Albemarle took to himself
£122,697 10_s._ 6_d._, and an equal amount was bestowed upon Admiral
Pocock. Lieutenant-General Elliot and Commodore Keppel had £24,539
10_s._ 1_d._ each. To a major-general was given £6,816 10_s._ 6-1/2_d._
and to a brigadier-general £1,947 11_s._ 7_d._ A captain in the navy had
£1,600 10_s._ 10_d._, and an army-captain, £184 4_s._ 7-1/4_d._ And so
the sums went on decreasing, until there were paid to the private
soldier, £4 1_s._ 8-1/2_d._, and to the ordinary seaman £3 14_s._
9-3/4_d._ The profit as well as the honor of the expedition all went to
the leaders. What made the matter worse was, that the distribution was
made in violation of rules, which were not formed to favor "the common
file," but which would have done them more justice than they received at
the hands of Pocock and Albemarle. After all, no worse was done than
what we see daily happen in the world, and the distribution appears to
be a practical satire on the ordinary course of human life.
Lord Albemarle was severely censured in England for his manner of
assailing the Havana, it being held that he should have attacked the
town, which was in an almost defenceless condition, whereas the Morro
was strong, and made a good defence, which might have led to the failure
of the expedition, and would have done so but for the circumstance that
no hurricane happened. But the general public was satisfied with the
victory, and did not trouble itself much about the manner in which it
had been gained. It was right. Had General McClellan taken Richmond, how
many of us would have listened to the military critics who should have
been so kind as to show us how he ought to have taken it? Judging from
some observations in Horace Walpole's "Correspondence," the English,
though surfeited with victory, were much pleased with their Cuban
conquest. Sir Joseph Yorke, writing on the 9th of October, ten days
after the news had reached England, says,--"All the world is struck with
the noble capture of the Havana, which fell into our hands on the Prince
of Wales's birthday, as a just punishment upon the Spaniards for their
unjust quarrel with us, and for the supposed difficulties they have
raised in the negotiations for peace." Those negotiations had been
openly commenced in less than a month after the fall of the Havana, and
some weeks before news of that brilliant event had reached Europe. The
terms of the treaty of peace were speedily settled, one of the
stipulations being, that Spain should preserve her old limits; and,
"moreover," says Earl Stanhope, "it was agreed that any conquests that
might meanwhile have been made by any of the parties in any quarter of
the globe, but which were not yet known, (words comprising at that
period of the negotiation both the Havana and the Philippines,) should
be restored without compensation." Had the preliminary articles been
signed at once, the Spaniards would have recovered all they had lost in
Cuba, without further trouble or cost; but their negotiator, the
celebrated Grimaldi, was so confident that the invaders of Cuba would be
beaten, that he played the waiting game, and was beaten himself. When
intelligence of English success arrived at Paris, where the treaty was
making, Grimaldi was suddenly found as ready to sign as formerly he had
been backward; but now the English negotiator, the Duke of Bedford,
became backward in his turn, as representing the unwillingness of his
Government to give up the Havana without an equivalent. Lord Bute would
have given up the conquest without a word said, but all his colleagues
were not so blind to the advantages which that conquest had placed at
the command of England; and finally it was agreed that the Duke of
Bedford should demand the cession of Florida or Porto Rico as the price
of the restoration of that portion of Cuba which was in English hands.
The Spaniards gladly complied with the British demand, and gave Florida
in exchange for Cuba. At one time it was supposed that the victory of
Albemarle and Pocock would lead to the continuance of the war. Horace
Walpole wrote to his friend Conway that the Havana was more likely to
break off the peace than to advance it, and that the English were not in
a humor to give up the world, but were much more disposed to conquer the
rest of it. He added, "We shall have some cannonading here, I believe,
if we sign the peace." But the King and the Premier were
peace-at-any-price men, and the way to their purpose was smoothed
completely; yet Lord Bute wrote to the Duke of Bedford, on the 24th of
October, "Such is the change made here by the conquest of the Havana,
that I solemnly declare, I don't meet with one man, let his attachment
be never so strong to the service of the King, his wishes for peace
never so great, that does not positively affirm, this rich acquisition
must not be ceded without satisfaction in the fishery, and some material
compensation: this is so much the opinion of all the King's servants,
that the greatest care has been taken to soften every expression," etc.
In July, 1763, the English restored their acquisitions in Cuba to the
Spaniards, and their soldiers returned to Europe.
In a few years it was seen that the Bute arrangement, so far as
concerned the Havana, was, for England, thoroughly a Glaucian bargain.
She had obtained Florida, which was of no worth to her, and she had
given up the Havana, which might have been made one of her most useful
acquisitions. That place became the chief American port of the great
alliance that was formed against England after she had become committed
to war with the new United States. Great fleets and armies were there
assembled, which did the English much mischief. Florida was reconquered
by an expedition from the Havana, and another expedition was successful
in an attack on Nassau; and Jamaica was threatened. Had England not
given up the place to the Spaniards, not only would these things have
been impossible, but she might have employed it with effect in her own
military operations, and have maintained her ascendency in the
West-Indian seas. Or, if she had preferred that course, she might have
made it the price of Spain's neutrality during the American War,
returning it to her on condition that she should not assist the United
States; and as the Family Compact then existed in all its force, Spain's
influence might have been found sufficiently powerful to prevent France
from giving that assistance to our fathers which undoubtedly secured
their independence. All subsequent history has been deeply colored by
the surrender of the Havana in 1763. But for that, Washington and his
associates might have failed. But for that, the French Revolution might
have been postponed, as that Revolution was precipitated through the
existence of financial difficulties which were largely owing to the part
France took in the war that ended in the establishment of our
nationality. But for that, England might have secured and consolidated
her American dominion, and the House of Hanover at this moment have been
ruling over the present United States and Confederate States. George
III, and Lord Bute could not foresee any of these things, and they
cannot be censured because they were blind to what was invisible to all
men; but their reckless desire for peace led them to regret the
successes of the English arms, and they were ready to make any
sacrifices that could be named, not because they loved peace for itself,
but because, while the war should last, it would not be possible for the
monarch to follow his mother's advice to "be a king" in fact as well as
in name,--advice that was destined to cost the King much, and his realm
far more.
* * * * *