While I was under trial before the Senate, on articles of impeachment
presented by the Senator from Wisconsin, [Mr. HOWE,] I forbore taking
any part in the debate, even in reply to allegations, asserted to be
of decisive importance, touching my relations with the President and
Secretary of State. All this was trivial enough; but numerous appeals
to me from opposite parts of the country show that good people have
been diverted by these allegations from the question of principle
involved. Without intending in any way to revive the heats of that
debate, I am induced to make a plain statement of facts, so that the
precise character of those relations shall be known. I do this with
unspeakable reluctance, but in the discharge of a public duty where the
claims of patriotism are above even those of self-defence. The Senate
and the country have an interest in knowing the truth of this matter,
and so also has the Republican party, which cannot be indifferent to
pretensions in its name; nor will anything but the completest frankness
be proper for the occasion.
In overcoming this reluctance I am aided by Senators who are determined
to make me speak. The Senator from Wisconsin, [Mr. HOWE,] who appears
as prosecuting officer, after alleging these personal relations as
the _gravamen_ of accusation against me,--making the issue pointedly
on this floor, and actually challenging reply,--not content with the
opportunity of this Chamber, hurried to the public press, where he
repeated the accusation, and now circulates it, as I am told, under
his frank, crediting it in formal terms to the liberal paper in
which it appeared, but without allusion to the editorial refutation
which accompanied it. On still another occasion, appearing still as
prosecuting officer, the same Senator volunteered, out of his own
invention, to denounce me as leaving the Republican party,--and this
he did, with infinite personality of language and manner, in the very
face of my speech to which he was replying, where, in positive words,
I declare that I speak “for the sake of the Republican party,” which I
hope to save from responsibility for wrongful acts, and then, in other
words making the whole assumption of the Senator an impossibility, I
announce, that in speaking for the Republican party it is “because from
the beginning I have been the faithful servant of that party and aspire
to see it strong and triumphant.”[95] In the face of this declared
aspiration, in harmony with my whole life, the Senator delivered his
attack, and, assuming to be nothing less than Pope, launched against
me his bull of excommunication. Then, again playing Pope, he took back
his thunder, with the apology that others thought so, and this alleged
understanding of others he did not hesitate to set above my positive
and contemporaneous language that I aspired to see the Republican party
strong and triumphant. Then came the Senator from Ohio, [Mr. SHERMAN,]
who, taking up his vacation pen, added to the articles of impeachment
by a supplementary allegation, adopted by the Senator under a
misapprehension of facts. Here was another challenge. During all this
time I have been silent. Senators have spoken, and then rushed into
print; but I have said nothing. They have had their own way with regard
to me. It is they who leave me no alternative.
* * * * *
It is alleged that I have no personal relations with the President.
Here the answer is easy. I have precisely the relations which he has
chosen. On reaching Washington in December last, I was assured from
various quarters that the White House was angry with me; and soon
afterward the public journals reported the President as saying to a
Senator, that, if he were not President, he “would call me to account.”
What he meant I never understood, nor would I attribute to him more
than he meant; but that he used the language reported I have no doubt,
from information independent of the newspapers. I repeat that on this
point I have no doubt. The same newspapers reported, also, that a
member of the President’s household, enjoying his peculiar confidence,
taking great part in the San Domingo scheme, had menaced me with
personal violence. I could not believe the story, except on positive,
unequivocal testimony. That the menace was made on the condition of his
not being an Army officer I do not doubt. The member of the household,
when interrogated by my excellent colleague, [Mr. WILSON,] positively
denied the menace; but I am assured, on authority above question, that
he has since acknowledged it, while the President still retains him in
service, and sends him to this Chamber.
During this last session, I have opposed the Presidential policy on an
important question,--but always without one word touching motives, or
one suggestion of corruption on his part, although I never doubted that
there were actors in the business who could claim no such immunity. It
now appears that Fabens, who came here as plenipotentiary to press the
scheme, has concessions to such amount that the diplomatist is lost
in the speculator. I always insisted that the President was no party
to any such transaction. I should do injustice to my own feelings,
if I did not here declare my regret that I could not agree with the
President. I tried to think as he did, but I could not. I listened to
the arguments on his side, but in vain. The adverse considerations
multiplied with time and reflection. To those who know the motives
of my life it is superfluous for me to add that I sought simply the
good of my country and Humanity, including especially the good of the
African race, to which our country owes so much.
Already there was anger at the White House when the scheme to buy and
annex half an island in the Caribbean Sea was pressed upon the Senate
in legislative session under the guise of appointing a Commission, and
it became my duty to expose it. Here I was constrained to show how, at
very large expense, the usurper Baez was maintained in power by the
Navy of the United States to enable him to sell his country, while at
the same time the independence of the Black Republic was menaced,--all
of which was in violation of International Law, and of the Constitution
of the United States, which reserves to Congress the power “to declare
war.” What I said was in open debate, where the record will speak for
me. I hand it over to the most careful scrutiny, knowing that the
President can take no just exception to it, unless he insists upon
limiting proper debate, and boldly denies the right of a Senator to
express himself freely on great acts of wrong. Nor will any Republican
Senator admit that the President can impose his own sole will upon the
Republican party. Our party is in itself a Republic with universal
suffrage, and until a measure is adopted by the party no Republican
President can make it a party test.
* * * * *
Much as I am pained in making this statement with regard to the
President, infinitely more painful to me is what I must present with
regard to the Secretary of State. Here again I remark that I am driven
to this explanation. His strange and unnatural conduct toward me, and
his prompting of Senators, who, one after another, have set up my
alleged relations with him as ground of complaint, make it necessary
for me to proceed.
We were sworn as Senators on the same day, as far back as 1851, and
from that distant time were friends until the San Domingo business
intervened. Nothing could exceed our kindly relations in the past. On
the evening of the inauguration of General Grant as President, he was
at my house with Mr. Motley in friendly communion, and all uniting in
aspirations for the new Administration. Little did Mr. Motley or myself
imagine in that social hour that one of our little circle was so soon
to turn upon us both.
Shortly afterward Mr. Fish became Secretary of State, and began his
responsible duties by appealing to me for help. I need not say that I
had pleasure in responding to his call, and that I did what I could
most sincerely and conscientiously to aid him. Of much, from his
arrival down to his alienation on the San Domingo business, I possess
the written record. For some time he showed a sympathy with the scheme
almost as little as my own. But as the President grew in earnestness
the Secretary yielded, until tardily he became its attorney. Repeatedly
he came to my house, pleading for the scheme. Again and again he urged
it, sometimes at my house and sometimes at his own. I was astonished
that he could do so, and expressed my astonishment with the frankness
of old friendship. For apology he announced that he was the President’s
friend, and took office as such. “But,” said I, “you should resign
rather than do this thing.” This I could not refrain from remarking, on
discovery, from dispatches in the State Department, that the usurper
Baez was maintained in power by our Navy. This plain act of wrong
required instant redress; but the Secretary astonished me again by his
insensibility to my appeal for justice. He maintained the President, as
the President maintained Baez. I confess that I was troubled.
At last, some time in June, 1870, a few weeks before the San Domingo
treaty was finally rejected by the Senate, the Secretary came to my
house about nine o’clock in the evening and remained till after the
clock struck midnight, the whole protracted visit being occupied in
earnest and reiterated appeal that I should cease my opposition to
the Presidential scheme; and here he urged that the election which
made General Grant President had been carried by him, and not by
the Republican party, so that his desires were entitled to especial
attention. In his pressure on me he complained that I had opposed
other projects of the President. In reply to my inquiry, he named the
repeal of the Tenure-of-Office Act, and the nomination of Mr. Jones as
Minister to Brussels, both of which the President had much at heart,
and he concluded with the San Domingo treaty. I assured the Secretary
firmly and simply, that, seeing the latter as I did with all its
surroundings, my duty was plain, and that I must continue to oppose it
so long as it appeared to me wrong. He was not satisfied, and renewed
his pressure in various forms, returning to the point again and again
with persevering assiduity that would not be arrested, when at last,
finding me inflexible, he changed his appeal, saying, “Why not go to
London? I offer you the English mission. It is yours.” Of his authority
from the President I know nothing. I speak only of what he said. My
astonishment was heightened by indignation at this too palpable attempt
to take me from my post of duty; but I suppressed the feeling which
rose to the lips, and, reflecting that he was an old friend and in my
own house, answered gently, “We have a Minister there who cannot be
bettered.” Thus already did the mission to London begin to pivot on San
Domingo.
I make this revelation only because it is important to a correct
understanding of the case, and because the conversation from beginning
to end was official in character, relating exclusively to public
business, without suggestion or allusion of a personal nature, and
absolutely without the slightest word on my part leading in the most
remote degree to any such overture, which was unexpected as undesired.
The offer of the Secretary was in no respect a compliment or kindness,
but in the strict line of his endeavor to silence my opposition to the
San Domingo scheme, as is too apparent from the facts, while it was
plain, positive, and unequivocal, making its object and import beyond
question. Had it been merely an inquiry, it were bad enough, under the
circumstances; but it was direct and complete, as by a plenipotentiary.
Shortly afterward, being the day immediately following the rejection of
the San Domingo treaty, Mr. Motley was summarily removed,--according
to present pretence, for an offending not only trivial and formal, but
condoned by time, being a year old: very much as Sir Walter Raleigh,
after being released from the Tower to conduct a distant expedition
as admiral of the fleet, was at his return beheaded on a judgment
of fifteen years’ standing. The Secretary, in conversation and in
correspondence with me, undertook to explain the removal, insisting
for a long time that he was “the friend of Mr. Motley”; but he always
made the matter worse, while the heats of San Domingo entered into the
discussion.
At last, in January, 1871, a formal paper justifying the removal and
signed by the Secretary was laid before the Senate.[96] Glancing
at this document, I found, to my surprise, that its most salient
characteristic was constant vindictiveness toward Mr. Motley, with
effort to wound his feelings; and this was signed by one who had sat
with him at my house in friendly communion and common aspiration on the
evening of the inauguration of General Grant, and had so often insisted
that he was “the friend of Mr. Motley,”--while, as if it was not enough
to insult one Massachusetts citizen in the public service, the same
document, after a succession of flings and sneers, makes a kindred
assault on me; and this is signed by one who so constantly called me
“friend,” and asked me for help. The Senator from Missouri [Mr. SCHURZ]
has already directed attention to this assault, and has expressed his
judgment upon it,--confessing that he “should not have failed to feel
the insult,” and then exclaiming, with just indignation, “When such
things are launched against any member of this body, it becomes the
American Senate to stand by him, and not to attempt to disgrace and to
degrade him because he shows the sensitiveness of a gentleman.”[97] It
is easy to see how this Senator regarded the conduct of the Secretary.
Nor is its true character open to doubt, especially when we consider
the context, and how this full-blown personality naturally flowered out
of the whole document.
Mr. Motley, in his valedictory to the State Department, had alluded to
the rumor that he was removed on account of my opposition to the San
Domingo treaty. The document signed by the Secretary, while mingling
most offensive terms with regard to his “friend” in London, thus turns
upon his “friend” in Washington:--
“It remains only to notice Mr. Motley’s adoption of a rumor
which had its origin in this city in a source bitterly,
personally, and vindictively hostile to the President.
“Mr. Motley says it has been rumored that he was ‘removed from
the post of Minister to England’ on account of the opposition
made by an ‘eminent Senator, who honors me [him] with his
friendship,’ to the San Domingo treaty.
“Men are apt to attribute the causes of their own failures
or their own misfortunes to others than themselves, and to
claim association or seek a partnership with real or imaginary
greatness with which to divide their sorrows or their mistakes.
There can be no question as to the identity of the eminent
Senator at whose door Mr. Motley is willing to deposit the
cause of his removal. But he is entirely mistaken in seeking
a vicarious cause of his loss in confidence and favor; and
it is unworthy of Mr. Motley’s real merit and ability, and
an injustice to the venerable Senator alluded to, (_to whose
influence and urgency he was originally indebted for his
nomination_,) to attribute to him any share in the cause of his
removal.
“Mr. Motley must know, or, if he does not know it, he stands
alone in his ignorance of the fact, that many Senators opposed
the San Domingo treaty _openly, generously, and with as much
efficiency as did the distinguished Senator to whom he refers,
and have nevertheless continued to enjoy the undiminished
confidence and the friendship of the President_,--than whom no
man living is more tolerant of honest and manly differences of
opinion, is more single or sincere in his desire for the public
welfare, is more disinterested or regardless of what concerns
himself, is more frank and confiding in his own dealings, _is
more sensitive to a betrayal of confidence, or would look
with more scorn and contempt upon one who uses the words and
the assurances of friendship to cover a secret and determined
purpose of hostility_.”[98]
The eulogy of the President here is at least singular, when it is
considered that every dispatch of the Secretary of State is by order of
the President; but it is evident that the writer of this dispatch had
made up his mind to set all rule at defiance. If, beyond paying court
to the President, even at the expense of making him praise himself, the
concluding sentence of this elaborate passage, so full of gall from
beginning to end, had any object, if it were anything but a mountain of
words, it was an open attempt to make an official document the vehicle
of personal insult to me; and this personal insult was signed “HAMILTON
FISH.” As I became aware of it, and found also that it was regarded by
others in the same light, I was distressed and perplexed. I could not
comprehend it. I knew not why the Secretary should step so far out of
his way, in a manner absolutely without precedent, to treat me with
ostentatious indignity,--especially when I thought that for years I had
been his friend, that I had never spoken of him except with kindness,
and that constantly since assuming his present duties he had turned
to me for help. This was more incomprehensible when I considered how
utterly groundless were all his imputations. I have lived in vain, if
such an attempt on me can fail to rebound on its author.
Not lightly would I judge an ancient friend. For a time I said nothing
to anybody of the outrage, hoping that perhaps the Secretary would
open his eyes to the true character of the document he had signed
and volunteer some friendly explanation. Meanwhile a proposition to
resume negotiations was received from England, and the Secretary, it
seems, desired to confer with me on the subject; but there was evident
consciousness on his part that he had done wrong,--for, instead of
coming to me at once, he sent for Mr. Patterson, of the Senate, and,
telling him that he wished to confer with me, added, that he did not
know precisely what were his relations with me and how I should receive
him. Within a brief fortnight I had been in conference with him at the
State Department and had dined at his house, besides about the same
time making a call there. Yet he was in doubt about his relations with
me. Plainly because, since the conference, the dinner, and the call,
the document signed by him had been communicated to the Senate, and
the conscience-struck Secretary did not know how I should take it. Mr.
Patterson asked me what he should report. I replied, that, should the
Secretary come to my house, he would be received as an old friend,
and that at any time I should be at his service for consultation on
public business, but that I could not conceal my deep sense of personal
wrong received from him absolutely without reason or excuse. That
this message was communicated by Mr. Patterson I cannot doubt,--for
the Secretary came to my house, and there was a free conference. How
frankly I spoke on public questions, without one word on other things,
the Secretary knows. He will remember if any inquiry, remark, or
allusion escaped from me, except in reference to public business. The
interview was of business and nothing else.
On careful reflection, it seemed to me plain, that, while meeting the
Secretary officially, it would not be consistent with self-respect
for me to continue personal relations with one who had put his name
to a document, which, after protracted fury toward another, contained
a studied insult to me, where the fury was intensified rather than
tempered by too obvious premeditation. Public business must not suffer,
but in such a case personal relations naturally cease; and this rule I
have followed since. Is there any Senator who would have done less? Are
there not many who would have done more? I am at a loss to understand
how the Secretary could expect anything beyond those official relations
which I declared my readiness at all times to maintain, and which, even
after his assault on me, he was willing to seek at my own house. To
expect more shows on his part grievous insensibility to the thing he
had done. Whatever one signs he makes his own; and the Secretary, when
he signed this document, adopted a libel upon his friend, and when he
communicated it to the Senate he published the libel. Nothing like it
can be shown in the history of our Government. It stands alone. The
Secretary is alone. Like Jean Paul in German literature, his just title
will be “The Only One.” For years I have known Secretaries of State
and often differed from them, but never before did I receive from one
anything but kindness. Never before did a Secretary of State sign a
document libelling an associate in the public service, and publish it
to the world. Never before did a Secretary of State so entirely set at
defiance every sentiment of friendship. It is impossible to explain
this strange aberration, except from the disturbing influence of San
Domingo. But whatever its origin, its true character is beyond question.
As nothing like this state-paper can be shown in the history of our
Government, so also nothing like it can be shown in the history of
other Governments. Not an instance can be named in any country, where
a personage in corresponding official position has done such a thing.
The American Secretary is alone, not only in his own country, but in
all countries; “none but himself can be his parallel.” Seneca, in the
“Hercules Furens,” has pictured him:--
“Quæris Alcidæ parem?
Nemo est, nisi ipse.”
He is originator and first inventor, with all prerogatives and
responsibilities thereto belonging.
I have mentioned only one sally in this painful document; but the
whole, besides its prevailing offensiveness, shows inconsistency with
actual facts of my own knowledge, which is in entire harmony with the
recklessness toward me, and attests the same spirit throughout. Thus,
we have the positive allegation that the death of Lord Clarendon, June
27, 1870, “_determined the time_ for inviting Mr. Motley to make place
for a successor,”[99] when, in point of fact, some time before his
Lordship’s illness even, the Secretary had invited me to go to London
as Mr. Motley’s successor,--thus showing that the explanation of Lord
Clarendon’s death was an after-thought, when it became important to
divert attention from the obvious dependence of the removal upon the
defeat of the San Domingo treaty.
A kindred inconsistency arrested the attention of the London “Times,”
in its article of January 24, 1871, on the document signed by the
Secretary. Here, according to this journal, the document supplied the
means of correction, since it set forth that on the 25th June, two
days before Lord Clarendon’s death, Mr. Motley’s coming removal was
announced in a London journal. After stating the alleged dependence
of the removal upon the death of Lord Clarendon, the journal, holding
the scales, remarks: “And yet there is at least one circumstance,
appearing, _strange to say_, in Mr. Fish’s own dispatch, which is _not
quite consistent_ with the explanation he sets up of Mr. Motley’s
recall.” Then, after quoting from the document, and mentioning that
its own correspondent at Philadelphia did on the 25th June “send us a
message that Mr. Motley was about to be withdrawn,” the journal mildly
concludes, that, “as this was two days before Lord Clarendon’s death,
which was unforeseen here and could not have been expected in the
States, _it is difficult to connect the resolution to supersede the
late American Minister with the change at our Foreign Office_.” The
difficulty of the “Times” is increased by the earlier incident with
regard to myself.
Not content with making the removal depend upon the death of Lord
Clarendon, when it was heralded abroad not only before the death of
this minister had occurred, but while it was yet unforeseen, the
document seeks to antedate the defeat of the San Domingo treaty, so
as to interpose “weeks and months” between the latter event and the
removal. The language is explicit. “The treaty,” says the document,
“_was admitted_ to be practically dead, and was waiting only the formal
action of the Senate, _for weeks and months_ before the decease of the
illustrious statesman of Great Britain.”[100] Weeks and months! And yet
during the last month, when the treaty “was admitted to be practically
dead,” the Secretary who signed the document passed three hours at my
house, pleading with me to withdraw my opposition, and finally wound up
by tender to me of the English mission, with no other apparent object
than simply to get me out of the way.
Then again we have the positive allegation that the President embraced
an opportunity “to prevent any further misapprehension of his views
through Mr. Motley by taking from him the right to discuss further
the ‘Alabama claims’”;[101] whereas the Secretary in a letter to me
at Boston, dated at Washington, October 9, 1869, informs me that the
discussion of the question was withdrawn from London “_because_” (the
Italics are the Secretary’s) “we think, that, when renewed, it can be
carried on here with a better prospect of settlement than where the
late attempt at a convention which resulted so disastrously and was
conducted so strangely was had”; and what the Secretary thus wrote he
repeated in conversation when we met, carefully making the transfer
to Washington depend upon our advantage here from the presence of the
Senate: thus showing that the pretext put forth to wound Mr. Motley was
an after-thought.
Still further, the document signed by the Secretary alleges, by way of
excuse for removing Mr. Motley, the “important public consideration of
having a representative in sympathy with the President’s views”;[102]
whereas, when the Secretary tendered the mission to me, no allusion was
made to “sympathy with the President’s views,” while Mr. Motley, it
appears, was charged with agreeing too much with me: all of which shows
how little this matter had to do with the removal, and how much the San
Domingo business at the time was above any question of conformity on
other things.
In the amiable passage already quoted[103] there is a parenthesis which
breathes the prevailing spirit. By way of aspersion on Mr. Motley and
myself, the country is informed that he was indebted for his nomination
to “influence and urgency” on my part. Of the influence I know nothing;
but I deny positively any “urgency.” I spoke with the President on
this subject once casually on the stairs of the Executive Mansion, and
then again in a formal interview. And here, since the effort of the
Secretary, I shall frankly state what I said and how it was introduced.
I began by remarking, that, with the permission of the President, I
should venture to suggest the expediency of continuing Mr. Marsh in
Italy, Mr. Morris at Constantinople, and Mr. Bancroft at Berlin, as
all these exerted a peculiar influence and did honor to our country.
To this list I proposed to add Dr. Howe in Greece, believing that he,
too, would do honor to our country, and also Mr. Motley in London,
who, I suggested, would have an influence there beyond his official
position. The President said that nobody should be sent to London who
was not “right” on the Claims question, and he kindly explained to me
what he meant by “right.” From this time I had no conversation with
him about Mr. Motley, until after the latter had left for his post,
when the President volunteered to express his great satisfaction in the
appointment. Such was the extent of my “urgency.” Nor was I much in
advance of the Secretary at that time; for he showed me what was called
the “brief” at the State Department for the English mission, with Mr.
Motley’s name at the head of the list.
Other allusions to myself would be cheerfully forgotten, if they were
not made the pretext to assail Mr. Motley, who is held to severe
account for supposed dependence on me. If this were crime, not the
Minister, but the Secretary, should suffer; for it is the Secretary,
and not the Minister, who appealed to me constantly for help, often
desiring me to think for him, and more than once to hold the pen for
him. But, forgetting his own relations with me, the Secretary turns
upon Mr. Motley, who never asked me to think for him or to hold the pen
for him. Other things the Secretary also forgot. He forgot that the
blow he dealt, whether at Mr. Motley or myself, rudely tore the veil
from the past, so far as its testimony might be needed in elucidation
of the truth; that the document he signed was a challenge and
provocation to meet him on the facts without reserve or concealment;
that the wantonness of assault on Mr. Motley was so closely associated
with that on me, that any explanation I might make must be a defence
of him; that, even if duty to the Senate and myself did not require
this explanation, there are other duties not to be disregarded,
among which is duty to the absent, who cannot be permitted to suffer
unjustly,--duty to a much-injured citizen of Massachusetts, who may
properly look to a Senator of his State for protection against official
wrong,--duty also to a public servant insulted beyond precedent, who,
besides writing and speaking most effectively for the Republican party
and for this Administration, has added to the renown of our country by
unsurpassed success in literature, commending him to the gratitude and
good-will of all. These things the Secretary strangely forgot, when he
dealt the blow which tore the veil.
The crime of the Minister was dependence on me: so says the
state-paper. A simple narrative will show who is the criminal. My
early relations with the Secretary have already appeared, and how he
began by asking me for help, practising constantly on this appeal.
A few details will be enough. At once on his arrival to assume his
new duties, he asked my counsel about appointing Mr. Bancroft Davis
Assistant Secretary of State, and I advised the appointment,--without
sufficient knowledge, I am inclined to believe now. Then followed
the questions with Spain growing out of Cuba, which were the subject
of constant conference, where he sought me repeatedly and kindly
listened to my opinions. Then came the instructions for the English
mission, known as the dispatch of May 15, 1869. At each stage of
these instructions I was in the counsels of the Secretary. Following
my suggestion, he authorized me to invite Mr. Motley in his name to
prepare the “memoir” or essay on our claims, which, notwithstanding its
entirely confidential character, he drags before the world, for purpose
of assault, in a manner clearly unjustifiable. Then, as the dispatch
was preparing, he asked my help especially in that part relating to
the concession of belligerent rights. I have here the first draught of
this important passage in pencil and in my own handwriting, varying
in no essential respect from that adopted. Here will be found the
distinction on which I have always insisted,--that, while other powers
conceded belligerent rights to our Rebels, it was in England only that
the concession was supplemented by acts causing direct damage to the
United States. Not long afterward, in August, 1869, when the British
storm had subsided, I advised that the discussion should be renewed
by an elaborate communication, setting forth our case in length and
breadth, but without any estimate of damages,--throwing upon England
the opportunity, if not the duty, of making some practical proposition.
Adopting this recommendation, the Secretary invited me to write the
dispatch. I thought it better that it should be done by another, and
I named for this purpose an accomplished gentleman whom I knew to be
familiar with the question, and he wrote the dispatch. This paper,
bearing date September 25, 1869, is unquestionably the ablest in the
history of the present Administration, unless we except the last
dispatch of Mr. Motley.
In a letter dated at Washington, October 15, 1869, and addressed to me
at Boston, the Secretary describes this paper in the following terms:--
“The dispatch to Motley (which I learn by a telegram from him
has been received) is a calm, _full_ review of our entire
case, making no demand, no valuation of damages, but I believe
covering all the ground and all the points that have been made
on our side. I hope that it will meet your views. I _think_ it
will. It leaves the question with Great Britain to determine
when any negotiations are to be renewed.”
The Secretary was right in his description. It was a “_full_ review of
our entire case,” “covering all the ground and all the points”; and it
did meet my views, as the Secretary thought it would, especially where
it arraigned so strongly that fatal concession of belligerent rights
on the ocean, which in any faithful presentment of the national cause
will always be the first stage of _evidence_,--since, without this
precipitate and voluntary act, the Common Law of England was a positive
protection against the equipment of a corsair ship, or even the supply
of a blockade-runner for unacknowledged rebels. The conformity of this
dispatch with my views was recognized by others besides the Secretary.
It is well known that Lord Clarendon did not hesitate in familiar
conversation to speak of it as “Mr. Sumner’s speech over again”; while
another English personage said that “it out-Sumnered Sumner.” And yet,
with his name signed to this dispatch, written at my suggestion, and in
entire conformity with my views, as admitted by him and recognized by
the English Government, the Secretary taunts Mr. Motley for supposed
harmony with me on this very question. This taunt is still more
unnatural when it is known that this dispatch is in similar conformity
with the “memoir” of Mr. Motley, and was evidently written with
knowledge of that admirable document, where the case of our country is
stated with perfect mastery. But the story does not end here.
On the communication of this dispatch to the British Government, Mr.
Thornton was instructed to ascertain what would be accepted by our
Government, when the Secretary, under date of Washington, November
6, 1869, reported to me this application, and then, after expressing
unwillingness to act on it until he “could have an opportunity of
consulting” me, he wrote, “When will you be here? Will you either note
what you think will be sufficient to meet the views of the Senate and
of the country, or _will you formulate such proposition_?” After this
responsible commission, the letter winds up with the earnest request,
“Let me hear from you _as soon as you can_,” (the Italics are the
Secretary’s,) “and I should like to confer with you at the earliest
convenient time.” On my arrival at Washington, the Secretary came to my
house at once, and we conferred freely. San Domingo had not yet sent
its shadow into his soul.
It is easily seen that here was constant and reiterated appeal to me,
especially on our negotiations with England; and yet, in the face of
this testimony, where he is the unimpeachable witness, the Secretary is
pleased to make Mr. Motley’s supposed relations with me the occasion of
insult to him, while, as if this were not enough, he crowns his work
with personal assault on me,--all of which, whether as regards Mr.
Motley or me, is beyond comprehension.
How little Mr. Motley merited anything but respect and courtesy from
the Secretary is attested by all who know his eminent position in
London, and the service he rendered to his country. Already the London
press, usually slow to praise Americans when strenuous for their
country, has furnished its voluntary testimony. The “Daily News” of
August 16, 1870, spoke of the insulted Minister in these terms:--
“We are violating no confidence in saying that all the hopes
and promises of Mr. Motley’s official residence in England
have been amply fulfilled, and that the announcement of his
unexpected and unexplained recall was received with extreme
astonishment and unfeigned regret. The vacancy he leaves
cannot possibly be filled by a Minister more sensitive to the
honor of his Government, more attentive to the interests of
his country, and more capable of uniting the most rigorous
performance of his public duties with the high-bred courtesy
and the conciliatory tact and temper that make those duties
easy and successful. Mr. Motley’s successor will find his
mission wonderfully facilitated by the firmness and discretion
that have presided over the conduct of American affairs in this
country during too brief a term, too suddenly and unaccountably
concluded.”
The London press had not the key to this extraordinary transaction.
It knew not the potency of the San Domingo spell, nor its strange
influence over the Secretary, even breeding insensibility to
instinctive amenities, and awakening peculiar unfriendliness to Mr.
Motley, so amply certified afterward in an official document under
his own hand,--all of which burst forth with more than the tropical
luxuriance of the much-coveted island.
* * * * *
I cannot disguise the sorrow with which I offer this explanation.
In self-defence and for the sake of truth do I now speak. I have
cultivated forbearance, and hoped from the bottom of my heart
that I might do so to the end. But beyond the call of the public
press has been the defiant challenge of Senators, and also the
consideration sometimes presented by friends, that my silence might
be misinterpreted. Tardily and most reluctantly I make this record,
believing it more a duty to the Senate than to myself, but a plain
duty, to be performed in all simplicity without reserve. Having nothing
to conceal, and willing always to be judged by the truth, I court the
fullest inquiry, and shrink from no conclusion founded on an accurate
knowledge of the case.
If this narration enables any one to see in clearer light the injustice
done to Mr. Motley, then have I performed a further duty too long
postponed; nor will it be doubted by any honest nature, that, since the
assault of the Secretary, he was entitled to that vindication which
is found in a statement of facts within my own knowledge. Anything
short of this would be a license to the Secretary in his new style of
state-paper, which, for the sake of the public service and of good-will
among men, must be required to stand alone, in the isolation which
becomes its abnormal character. Plainly without precedent in the past,
it must be without chance of repetition in the future.
Here I stop. My present duty is performed when I set forth the simple
facts, exhibiting those personal relations which have been drawn in
question, without touching the questions of principle behind.