upon the truth of the allegations on which France justified its
continuance. I do not at all mean to say that the truth of those
allegations was to be taken for granted. But what I do mean to say is,
that it was not the business of the British Government to go into
a trial and examine evidence, to ascertain the foundation of the
conflicting allegations on either side. It was clear that nothing but
some modification of the Spanish Constitution could avert the calamity
of war; and in applying the means in our hands to that object (an
object interesting not to Spain only, but to England, and to Europe),
it was not our business to take up the cause of either party, and to
state it with the zeal and with the aggravations of an advocate; but
rather to endeavour to reduce the demands of each within such limits
as might afford a reasonable hope of mutual conciliation.
Grant, even, that the justice was wholly on the side of Spain; still,
in entreating the Spanish Ministers, with a view to peace, to abate a
little of their just pretensions, the British Government did not go
beyond the duty which the law of nations prescribes. No, Sir, it was
our duty to induce Spain to relax something of her positive right, for
a purpose so essential to her own interests and to those of the world.
Upon this point let me fortify myself once more, by reference to the
acknowledged law of nations. 'The duty of a mediator', says Vattel,
'is to favour well-founded claims, and to effect the restoration to
each party of what belongs to him; but he ought not scrupulously
to insist on rigid justice. He is a conciliator, not a judge: his
business is to procure peace: and he ought to induce him who has right
on his side, to relax something of his pretensions, if necessary, with
a view to so great a blessing.'
The conduct of the British Government is thus fortified by an
authority, not interested, not partial, not special in its
application, but universal, untinctured by favour, uninfluenced by the
circumstances of any particular case, and applicable to the general
concerns and dealings of mankind. Is it not plain, then, that we have
been guilty of no violation of duty towards the weaker party? Our
duty, Sir, was discharged not only without any unfriendly bias against
Spain, but with tenderness, with preference, with partiality in her
favour; and, while I respect (as I have already said) the honourable
obstinacy of the Spanish character, so deeply am I impressed with the
desirableness of peace for Spain, that, should the opportunity
recur, I would again, without scruple, tender the same advice to her
Government. The point of honour was in truth rather individual than
national; but the safety put to hazard was assuredly that of the whole
nation. Look at the state of Spain, and consider whether the filling
up a blank in the scheme of her representative Constitution with an
amount, more or less high, of qualification for the members of
the Cortes--whether the promising to consider hereafter of some
modifications in other questionable points--was too much to be
conceded, if by such a sacrifice peace could have been preserved! If
we had declined to interfere on such grounds of _punctilio_, would
not the very passage which I have now read from Vattel, as our
vindication, have been brought against us with justice as a charge?
I regret, deeply regret, for the sake of Spain, that our efforts
failed. I must fairly add, that I regret it for the sake of France
also. Convinced as I may be of the injustice of the course pursued by
the French Government, I cannot shut my eyes to its impolicy. I cannot
lose sight of the gallant character and mighty resources of the French
nation, of the central situation of France, and of the weight which
she ought to preserve in the scale of Europe; I cannot be insensible
to the dangers to which she is exposing herself; nor omit to reflect
what the consequences may be to that country--what the consequences to
Europe--of the hazardous enterprise in which she is now engaged;
and which, for aught that human prudence can foresee, may end in
a dreadful revulsion. As mere matter of abstract right, morality,
perhaps, ought to be contented when injury recoils upon an aggressor.
But such a revulsion as I am speaking of would not affect France
alone: it would touch the Continental States at many points; it would
touch even Great Britain. France could not be convulsed without
communicating danger to the very extremities of Europe. With this
conviction, I confess I thought any sacrifice, short of national
honour or national independence, cheap, to prevent the first breach in
that pacific settlement, by which the miseries and agitations of the
world have been so recently composed.
I apologize, Sir, for the length of time which I have consumed upon
these points. The case is complicated: the transactions have been
much misunderstood, and the opinions regarding them are various and
discordant. The true understanding of the case, however, and the
vindication of the conduct of Government, would be matters of
comparatively light importance, if censure or approbation for the past
were the only result in contemplation. But, considering that we are
now only at the threshold, as it were, of the war, and that great
events are pending, in which England may hereafter be called upon to
take her part, it is of the utmost importance that no doubt should
rest, upon the conduct and policy of this country.
One thing more there is, which I must not forget to notice with regard
to the advice given to Spain. I have already mentioned the Duke of
Wellington as the chosen instrument of that counsel: a Spaniard by
adoption, by title, and by property, he had a right to offer the
suggestions which he thought fit, to the Government of the country
which had adopted him. But it has been complained that the British
Government would have induced the Spaniards to break an oath: that,
according to the oath taken by the Cortes, the Spanish institutions
could be revised only at the expiration of eight years; and that, by
calling upon the Cortes to revise them before that period was expired,
we urged them to incur the guilt of perjury. Sir, this supposed
restriction is assumed gratuitously.
There are two opinions upon it in Spain. One party calculates
the eight years from the time which has elapsed since the first
establishment of the Constitution; the other reckons only the time
during which it has been in operation. The latter insist that the
period has yet at least two years to run, because the Constitution has
been in force only from 1812 to 1814, and from 1820 to the present
time: those who calculate from the original establishment of it in
1812, argue of course that more than the eight years are already
expired, and that the period of revision is fully come. I do not
pretend to decide between these two constructions; but I assert that
they are both Spanish constructions. A Spaniard, of no mean name and
reputation,--one eminently friendly to the Constitution of 1812,--by
whose advice Ministers were in this respect guided, gave it as his
opinion, that not only consistently with their oath, but in exact
fulfilment of it, the Spaniards might now reconsider and modify their
Constitution--that they might have done so nearly three years ago.
'Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?' say the Cortes. The answer is,
'No; we do not ask you to lay perjury upon your souls; for as good a
Spanish soul as is possessed by any of you declares, that you may now,
in due conformity to your oaths, reconsider, and, where advisable,
reform your Constitution.' Do we not know what constructions have been
put in this country, on the coronation oath, as to its operation on
what is called the Catholic Question? Will any man say that it has
been my intention, or the intention of my honourable friend, the
member for Bramber, every time that we have supported a motion for
communicating to our Roman Catholic fellow subjects the full benefit
of the Constitution, to lay perjury on the soul of the Sovereign?
Sir, I do not pretend to decide whether the number of legislative
chambers in Spain should be one, or two, or three. In God's name, let
them try what experiment in political science they will, provided we
are not affected by the trial. All that Great Britain has done on this
occasion has been, not to disturb the course of political experiment,
but to endeavour to avert the calamity of war. Good God! when it is
remembered how many evils are compressed into that little word 'war',
is it possible for any man to hesitate in urging every expedient that
could avert it, without sacrificing the honour of the party to which
his advice was tendered? Most earnestly do I wish that the Duke of
Wellington had succeeded: but great is the consolation that,
according to the best accounts from Spain, his counsels have not been
misunderstood there, however they have been misrepresented here. I
believe that I might with truth go further, and say, that there are
those in Spain who now repent the rigid course pursued, and who are
beginning to ask each other why they held out so pertinaciously
against suggestions at once so harmless and so reasonable. My wish
was, that Spain should be saved; that she should be saved before the
extremity of evil had come upon her, even by the making of those
concessions which, in the heat of national pride, she refused. Under
any circumstances, however, I have still another consolation--the
consolation of knowing, that never, from the commencement of these
negotiations, has Spain been allowed by the British Government to lie
under the delusion that her refusal of all modifications would induce
England to join her in the war.
The very earliest communication made to Spain forbade her to entertain
any such reliance. She was told at the beginning, as she was told in
the end, that neutrality was our determined policy. From the first
to the last, there was never the slightest variation in this
language--never a pause during which she could be for one moment in
doubt as to the settled purpose of England.
France, on the contrary, was never assured of the neutrality of
England, till my dispatch of the 31st of March (the last of the first
series of printed papers) was communicated to the French Ministry
at Paris. The speech of the King of France, on the opening of the
Chambers (I have no difficulty in saying), excited not only strong
feelings of disapprobation, by the principles which it avowed, but
serious apprehensions for the future, from the designs which it
appeared to disclose. I have no difficulty in saying that the speech
delivered from the British throne at the commencement of the present
session did, as originally drawn, contain an avowal of our intention
to preserve neutrality; but, upon the arrival of the King of France's
speech, the paragraph containing that avowal was withdrawn. Nay, I
have no difficulty in adding that I plainly told the French Chargé
d'Affaires that such an intimation had been intended, but that it was
withdrawn in consequence of the speech of the King, his master. Was
this truckling to France?
It was not, however, on account of Spain that the pledge of neutrality
was withdrawn: it was withdrawn upon principles of general policy on
the part of this country. It was withdrawn, because there was that in
the King of France's speech which appeared to carry the two countries
(France and England) back to their position in older times, when
France, as regarded the affairs of Spain, had been the successful
rival of England. Under such, circumstances, it behoved the English
Ministers to be upon their guard. We _were_ upon our guard. Could we
prove our caution more than by withholding that assurance, which would
at once have set France at ease? We _did_ withhold that assurance.
But it was one thing to withhold the declaration of neutrality, and
another to vary the purpose.
Spain, then, I repeat, has never been misled by the British
Government. But I fear, nevertheless, that a notion was in some way or
other created at Madrid, that if Spain would but hold out resolutely,
the Government of England would be forced, by the popular voice in
this country, to take part in her favour. I infer no blame against
any one; but I do firmly believe that such a notion was propagated in
Spain, and that it had great share in producing the peremptory refusal
of any modification of the Constitution of 1812. Regretting, as I do,
the failure of our endeavours to adjust those disputes, which now
threaten so much evil to the world, I am free at least from the
self-reproach of having contributed to that delusion in the mind of
the Spanish Government or nation, as to the eventual decision of
England, which, if it existed in such a degree as to produce reliance
upon our co-operation, must have added to the other calamities of
her present situation, the bitterness of disappointment. This
disappointment, Sir, was from the beginning, certain, inevitable: for
the mistake of those who excited the hopes of Spain was not only as to
the conduct of the British Government, but as to the sentiments of the
British nation. No man, whatever his personal opinion or feeling may
be, will pretend that the opinion of the country is not decidedly
against war. No man will deny that, if Ministers had plunged the
country into a war for the sake of Spain, they would have come before
Parliament with a heavier weight of responsibility than had ever lain
upon the shoulders of any Government. I impute not to those who
may thus have misled the Spanish Ministry, the intention either
of thwarting (though such was the effect) the policy of their own
Government, or of aggravating (though such must be the consequence)
the difficulties of Spain. But for myself I declare, that even the
responsibility of plunging this country into an unnecessary war, would
have weighed less heavily upon my conscience, than that, which I thank
God I have not incurred, of instigating Spain to the war, by exciting
hopes of assistance which I had not the means of realizing.
I have thus far, Sir, taken the liberty of assuming that the late
negotiations were properly directed to the preservation of peace; and
have argued the merits of the negotiations, on that assumption. I am
aware, that it is still to be established, that peace, under all the
circumstances of the times, _was_ the proper course for this country.
I address myself now to that branch of the subject.
I believe I may venture to take it as universally admitted, that any
question of war involves not only a question of right, not only a
question of justice, but also a question of expediency. I take it to
be admitted on all hands, that before any Government determines to go
to war, it ought to be convinced not only that it has just cause of
war, but that there is something which renders war its duty: a duty
compounded of two considerations--the first, what the country may owe
to others; the second, what she owes to herself. I do not know whether
any gentleman on the other side of the House has thought it worth
while to examine and weigh these considerations, but Ministers had to
weigh them well before they took their resolution. Ministers did
weigh them well; wisely, I hope; I am sure, conscientiously and
deliberately: and, if they came to the decision that peace was the
policy prescribed to them, that decision was founded on a reference,
first, to the situation of Spain; secondly, to the situation of
France; thirdly, to the situation of Portugal; fourthly, to the
situation of the Alliance; fifthly, to the peculiar situation of
England: and lastly, to the general state of the world. And first,
Sir, as to Spain.
The only gentleman by whom (as it seems to me) this part of the
question has been fairly and boldly met, is the honourable member for
Westminster (Mr. Hobhouse), who, in his speech of yesterday evening
(a speech which, however extravagant, as I may perhaps think, in
its tone, was perfectly intelligible and straightforward), not only
declared himself openly for war, but, aware that one of the chief
sinews of war is money, did no less than offer a subsidy to assist
in carrying it on. He declared that his constituents were ready to
contribute all their means to invigorate the hands of Government in
the war; but he annexed, to be sure, the trifling condition, that the
war was to be a war of people against kings. Now this, which, it must
be owned, was no unimportant qualification of the honourable member's
offer of assistance, is also one to which, I confess, I am not quite
prepared to accede. I do not immediately remember any case in which
such a principle of war has been professed by any Government, except
in the decree of the National Convention of the year 1793, which laid
the foundation of the war between this country and France--the decree
which offered assistance to all nations who would shake off the
tyranny of their rulers.
Even the honourable member for Westminster, therefore, is after all
but conditionally in favour of war: and, even in that conditional
pledge, he has been supported by so few members that I cannot
help suspecting that if I were to proceed on the faith of his
encouragement, I should find myself left with the honourable
gentleman, pretty nearly in the situation of King James with his
bishops. King James, we all remember, asked Bishop Neale if he might
not take his subjects' money without the authority of Parliament? To
which Bishop Neale replied, 'God forbid, Sire, but you should; you are
the breath of our nostrils.' The King then turned to Bishop Andrews,
and repeated the same question; when Bishop Andrews answered, 'Sire, I
think it is lawful for your Majesty to take my brother Neale's money,
for he offers it,' Now, if I were to appeal to the House, on the hint
of the honourable gentleman, I should, indeed, on his own terms, have
an undoubted right to the money of the honourable gentleman; but if
the question were put, for instance, to the honourable member for
Surrey (Mr. Holme Sumner), _his_ answer would probably be, 'You may
take my brother of Westminster's money, as he says his constituents
have authorized him to offer it; but _my_ constituents have certainly
given me no such authority.'
But however single, or however conditional,--the voice of the
honourable member for Westminster is still for war; and he does me
the honour to tempt me to take the same course, by reminding me of
a passage in my political life to which I shall ever look back with
pride and satisfaction. I allude to that period when the bold spirit
of Spain burst forth indignant against the oppression of Buonaparte.
Then unworthily filling the same office which I have the honour to
hold at the present moment, I discharged the glorious duty (if a
portion of glory may attach to the humble instrument of a glorious
cause) of recognizing without delay the rights of the Spanish nation,
and of at once adopting that gallant people into the closest amity
with England. It was indeed a stirring, a kindling occasion: and no
man who has a heart in his bosom can think even now of the noble
enthusiasm, the animated exertions, the undaunted courage, the
unconquerable perseverance of the Spanish nation, in a cause
apparently so desperate, finally so triumphant, without feeling
his blood glow and his pulses quicken with tumultuous throbs of
admiration. But I must remind the honourable gentleman of three
circumstances, calculated to qualify a little the feelings of
enthusiasm, and to suggest lessons of caution: I must remind him first
of the state of this country--secondly, of that of Spain--at that
period, as compared with the present; and thirdly, of the manner in
which the enterprise in behalf of Spain was viewed by certain parties
in this country. We are now at peace. In 1808, we were already at
war--we were at war with Buonaparte, the invader of Spain. In 1808 we
were, as now, the allies of Portugal, bound by treaty to defend her
from aggression; but Portugal was at that time not only menaced by
the power of France, but overrun by it; her Royal Family was actually
driven into exile, and their kingdom occupied by the French. Bound
by treaty to protect Portugal, how natural was it, under such
circumstances, to extend our assistance to Spain! Again: Spain was at
that time, comparatively speaking, an united nation. I do not mean to
say that there were no differences of opinion; I do not mean to deny
that some few among the higher classes had been corrupted by the gold
of France: but still the great bulk of the people were united in one
cause; their loyalty to their Sovereign had survived his abdication;
and though absent and a prisoner, the name of Ferdinand VII was the
rallying-point of the nation. But let the House look at the situation
in which England would be placed should she, at the present moment,
march her armies to the aid of Spain. As against France alone, her
task might not be more difficult than before; but is it only with
France that she would now have to contend? England could not strike in
the cause of Spain against the invading foe alone. Fighting in Spanish
ranks, should we not have to point our bayonets against Spanish
bosoms? But this is not the whole of the difference between the
present moment and the year 1808. In 1808 we had a large army prepared
for foreign service a whole war establishment ready appointed: and
the simple question was, in what quarter we could best apply its
force against the common enemy of England, of Spain, of Portugal,--of
Europe. This country had no hopes of peace: our abstinence from the
Spanish war could in no way have accelerated the return of that
blessing; and the Peninsula presented, plainly and obviously, the
theatre of exertion in which we could contend with most advantage.
Compare, then, I say, that period with the present; in which, none of
the inducements, or incitements, which I have described as belonging
to the opportunity of 1808, can be found.