HL Deb 23 March 1863 vol 169 cc1714-41
LORD CAMPBELL

, in rising to call attention to the question of acknowledging the Southern Confederacy as an independent Power, in concert with other neutral States, and to the Despatches of Mr. Mason, the Southern Envoy, on the subject, said: My Lords, although I know that no apology is requisite for calling the attention of the House to the papers for which I moved in August last, and which have lately been presented, I am anxious and impatient to point out the exact view with which the Motion is submitted to you. It is not in order to raise a question on the course which Government have taken as regards American affairs during the autumn. The question I propose is wholly seated in the future. The facts which lead to it are known and easy to recall to you. During the whole of the last Session France and Great Britain were alleged, and were believed to act together on the difficulties which the civil war gave rise to. Since then they have diverged, or rather in the memorable phrase of a noble Friend now absent from his place (Lord Clarendon), although their objects are the same, have seemed to drift from one another. In November we restrained the French Government in a course which they desired to take; in January the Emperor by himself pursued a second line of action, meant, like the first, to terminate hostilities. That line of action having failed, all thoughts of intervention, mediation, and remonstrance being exploded by the insolent reply of Mr. Seward, the Emperor being anxious still to close the war as he has proved himself, and having paid to the Government of Washington every debt of justice and of courtesy, the question of recognising the insurgent may at any moment come before us as the question of attempting to obtain an armistice was urged upon the country in November. Were it not that for some weeks past Poland has engaged the world, before now it might have reached us. As things stand, it would find us in the worst condition to receive it, without conviction one way or the other in either party of the State by the avowal of their leaders. A fatal error might arise not from a mistaken but a hesitating judgment. It is at such a moment, if ever, that Parliamentary debate is useful and admissible; when of two opposite opinions on a question rapidly impending, neither can be said to prevail over the other, and no man on earth foresees by which our conduct will be guided. It is therefore to contribute to a practical result that I have given noble Lords the opportunity of speaking on America; and it could not have been done in any other form, because a Resolution or Address to pledge the action of the Government would have justly been resisted, and its withdrawal or defeat would prejudice the 8,000,000 men whose claims are now before you.

The opinion I am anxious to maintain is that the divergence of France and Great Britain on America ought not to go further, but to cease; and that when France invites us to acknowledge Southern independence, we should neither hold her back nor let her move alone, but on the contrary, act with her. And by acknowledgment, I mean the course of sending an Ambassador to the insurgent, or of receiving his Ambassador, or of engaging in a treaty with him, or of seeking exequaturs from him for the consuls in his territory. The first impression I should wish to combat very briefly is, that the acknowledgment by neutral States of Southern independence would have no practical effects and no important consequences. It seemed to be that of a noble Earl over the way, who lately held the Foreign seals, at the beginning of the Session. But if acknowledgment is wholly immaterial, why has the South continued to demand, and the North so long and pertinaciously endeavoured to avert it? Why are Southern Envoys now in London and in Paris, and why was the Government of Washington prepared at every cost but that of war to intercept them? Why have the Envoys, on arriving, made acknowledgment the simple object of their mission, and why has Mr. Seward sent to the different Powers a volume of despatches to resist it? It has reached me from credible authorities that last year the planters began to grow cotton when acknowledgment was looked for, and ploughed it in when the hope expired. It happened in this manner. The planters viewed acknowledgment as the road to peace, and were ready to invest their capital in the ordinary way when that road was likely to be opened. And it may well occur to them as having such a tendency. From the Northern mind it would take away the hope which lingers yet of Southern subjugation. From the Government of Washngton it would take away the power of describing eleven communities contending for their liberty as rebels. The people of America are influenced by phrases, and will not come to terms with what they have been hounded on to look at as rebellion. But they can see a fact when Europe blazons it before them, and they may be awakened by her judgment to the nature of the foreign war on which their treasure and their happiness are wasted. When Europe has acknowledged it, the independence of the South may be debated in the Senate and the House, where no one now can venture to advert to it. A probable result of such a measure, if pursued by France, Great Britain, and other neutral States together, is that it would weaken in the Executive at Washington its borrowing ability, because their loans are founded on the chances of re-conquest; and re-conquest would then appear what it is, a shadow and a dream. And it would do so with good reason. Victorious already, animated then, the Southern armies would be doubly irresistible. They would not have, if they retain it now, the power to be vanquished. Another practical effect of recognition—the belligerents might then endeavour to negotiate, which it is clear they cannot do at present. A separate result would be to put an end to all the idle views of reconstruction and of union which are floating in America, and which serve to prolong the war, because they disincline the North to the only basis upon which the close of it is possible. A yet more serious result the measure promises is freedom to the Government of Washington from the necessity of hopeless war which weighs on it at present. As soon as Europe sanctions its retreat, the greater portion of its evils are annihilated. As long as Europe sanctions its attempt, to renounce it is to suffer an indignity which never fell upon a State engaged in war with insurrection since modern history opened its varied scenes to our notice. Noble Lords who recollect how, after it had lasted forty years, the civil war between Spain and Holland was influenced in 1607–9 by the diplomacy of France and England, may be led to think in what form the present struggle might adjust itself. But they will also see that the efforts of the two Powers would have been as vain as they were brilliant and successful, unless Europe had before acknowledged the insurgent. I will not dwell upon the instance. It must engage the study of every Minister or Sovereign who aspires to the lofty task of closing the hostilities before us. And if I, wanting power to go on, should do nothing more than point to it to-night, the Motion might not be a useless one.

If noble Lords are not entirely satisfied as to the practical effects which recognition tends to, let me refer them to the despatch of Mr. Mason to the Secretary of State, dated August 1, in No. 2 of the papers lately given. He treats the point with that knowledge of the country, and the war itself, which must give weight to his expessions. The next doctrine, which stands in the way of the conclusion to which I am pointing, is even more important to consider, because in this House it received a kind of sanction on February 5 from the noble Earl who leads the Opposition, and who had the manliness to state that in espousing it he differed from the mass of his supporters. It has been laid down that you should recognise insurgent Powers only when you are going to give material assistance to their cause, or when the civil war is over;—that neutrals should reserve their voice until arms have fallen from the weak and fainting hands of the belligerents. Whether or not such ought to be the principle, it is not, as examples show, that on which the Powers of either world have generally acted. So far from the cessation of hostilities preceding the acknowledgment of neutrals, the acknowledgment of neutrals has, in nearly every case, preceded the cessation of hostilities. In combating this tenet, no doubt the cases of Belgium, under Lord Grey, Greece under the Duke of Wellington, Holland under Queen Elizabeth, ought to be excluded, because, in all three, material support and diplomatic intercourse were blended. But the United States acknowledged Nicaragua, under Walker, before hostilities had ceased to menace the existence of his Government. They acknowledged the South American Republics rising against Spain before the effort to reduce them was exhausted. When Colonel Mann was sent by the Government of Washington to Hungary, in 1848–9, he was instructed to acknowledge the seceding kingdom, not when hostilities had ceased, but when its independence could be counted on; and he reserved the voice he was invested with, not because he was controlled by the presence of Austrian troops, but by the chances—and he reasoned well—of the insurgents being reconquered. He did not find a settled, but a migratory Government, which fled from post to post, instead of meeting the invaders at its capital. But if we pass to Europe, France acknowledged the United States revolting against England before Lord North renounced his efforts to subdue them. It is idle to assert that Lord North engaged in war on such a provocation. All who read the memorandum drawn up by Mr. Gibbon for the Government, and do not fancy themselves better versed than him in the opinions of the statesmen who instructed him, know that Lord North began war with France on a different provocation. And what if he did not? Is Lord North, after he had marred his reputation by a civil war which all the men who formed the glory of that epoch denounced as wicked and demented, to be held up as a master of public law, and an oracle on international proceedings? Is the Minister of the day, no matter what may be his character, or what may be his errors, virtute officii an heir to the authority of Bynkershoek or Grotius? So much for France. Great Britain was tardy in acknowledging the South American republics. But that tardiness was reprobated by a brilliant and enlightened Opposition, of which the noble Lord the Secretary of State was not an inconsiderable ornament. And that tardiness was partially imposed by a generous regard for Spain, invaded as she was in 1823. It was justified, moreover, by the hazard of breaking with the great allies with whom, long after 1815, we had been acting, to whom, in 1823, France had become subservient, and who viewed the cause of the South American repub- lics with aversion. My noble Friend the President of the Council, well versed in the career of Mr. Canning, at that time the Foreign Secretary, cannot have forgotten, that in that particular transaction to acknowledge the insurgents was to brave the greater portion of the world; that the despotic Powers made it almost a personal affair; that neither public law nor abstract rules, but special facts, and policy and prudence, at once delayed and fixed the hour of acknowledgment. The next and last example I shall give will make me independent of the others I have mentioned. It surpasses all the rest in magnitude and clearness; it tallies with the question now before the world in nearly every point, and it is one in which not a single State but Europe may be said herself to have delivered—and that in times far more monarchical, and therefore more averse to revolution than our own—a judgment on the question of acknowledgment. Great Britain, France, Sweden, Holland, all formed treaties with Portugal, seceding from the rule of Spain in 1641, a year after the Duke and Duchess of Braganza had proclaimed its independence, a quarter of a century before the Crown of Spain resolved to acquiesce in it. At that time Prussia had not come into existence as a State. Russia had not begun to mingle in the politics of Europe. Austria was attached to Spain by ties of family, and therefore the four recognising States may be fairly said to have composed a general tribunal of the Continent. So far from having ceased, the Spanish effort to reconquer by intrigue, conspiracies, and arms went on till after 1665, with a variety of fortune. The Duchess of Braganza, who became Regent, and on whose fortitude and judgment the success of the insurgents hung—as indeed her spirit and ascendancy had been the mainspring of the enterprise—employed the celebrated Schomberg as a general. Don John of Austria led the Spanish armies against Portugal. The battle of Villa Vicosa took away at last the hopes of the invaders. The war lingered on. In 1668, Spain and Portugal negotiated peace with one another. Was Europe acting then, in 1641, against the principles which ought to have directed her? Is there anything in Grotius, Bynkershoek, Vattel, Von Martens, Wheaton, to condemn her? It was an obvious duty upon my part to examine all these writers on the question of acknow- ledgment. But it is not a duty to inflict quotations on your Lordships. The references are with me here, and they will be at the command of any Member who desires them. A shorter method will enable me to show that the authorities agree in holding the power to maintain its independence—not the close of efforts to subdue it—to be the condition upon which a neutral may acknowledge an insurgent. Sir James Mackintosh, in a celebrated speech of 1824 upon the South American Republics, insists with glowing approbation on the case of Portugal, which I have brought under the notice of your Lordships. He does not question, but applauds the conduct of the recognising Powers. He does not hold it up to be avoided as an error, but, on the contrary, to be regarded as a brilliant lesson in his day. And your Lordships well know that Sir James Mackintosh was the disciple, the exponent, the successor, and the equal of the great men who have moulded public law into a science. You well know that what he sanctions they have sanctioned, and that when he unreservedly subscribes to what Europe did in 1641, Europe must have acted on their principle. What is it? The principle appears to be that the hazard of re-conquest is the only bar to acknowledgment when such a measure is likely to accelerate a peace and benefit the country which extends it. Should the insurgents yield after the acknowledgment of neutrals, their judgment is rebuked, their action vain, and they have given useless umbrage to the power ultimately dominant. But it is not correct, according to the law of nations and the history of the world, to aver that the struggle must be over; the last army routed; the last shilling spent; the last drop of blood exhausted by the combatants. And it is not consistent with humanity. The vocation of acknowledgment is rather to preserve than to destroy, and by diplomacy to give a quicker passage to the end, which the long and sanguinary road of arms would ultimately point to. When you cannot advise the older State to presevere, when you denounce its efforts, and when you prophesy its failure; and when you cannot recommend the younger State to yield, what can be more irrational or cruel than to prolong hostilities between them? But by the reservation of acknowledgment you do prolong hostilities between them. The effort to re-conquer has never been renounced, and scarcely ever been supended, until neutrals had acknowledged the insurgent, from the civil war between Switzerland and Austria in the Middle Ages down to that which stagnates at this moment. And such a general result is what the plainest reason would have led us to anticipate. While neutrals countenance his hopes, is the invading Power likely to recede from them? Can he proclaim, without suggestion, his defeat? Can he embrace, without authority, his own humiliation? Can he assure bystanders he has sunk, while they by silence loudly tell him he may rally? It is not therefore easy to defend the conduct of a neutral who indirectly calls out for battles, and imposes expeditions, with a foregone conclusion that they must be useless for their purpose. But it is said, may you acknowledge an insurgent destined to succeed, while hostile armies are encamped in portions of his territory? My Lords, if you may not, you should withdraw your representatives from any country which becomes the seat of war. We ought, at least, to have withdrawn our minister from Spain in 1823, when France, unfortunately, marched without resistance on its capital. In accordance, therefore, with experience, authorities, and reason, I submit to this House—you may acknowledge the insurgent as soon as no doubt remains upon the issue of the struggle.

And is the issue doubtful? The capitalists of London, Frankfort, Paris, Amsterdam, arenot of that opinion. Within the last few days the Southern loan has reached the highest place in our market. £3,000,000 were required, £9,000,000 were subscribed for. The loan is based upon the security of cotton; and it has been well known for a twelvemonth that as far as the invaders march, that security must perish. But what is the opinion of military men upon the issue? The Emperor of the French, having been brought up as a soldier—having given a long life to military science, and having recently commanded the greatest armies of the day at Solferino and Magenta—in the despatch of November last did not conceal from the Government of Washington that subjugation was impossible. The Princes of the House of Orleans, who served with General M'Clellan, are thought to have inspired the excellent account of the campaign which appeared on October 15 in the Revue des Deux Mondes, and which has also tended to disperse the vision of re-conquest. To the same scale of judg- ment General Scott appears, by recent revelations, to contribute. And this, too, is remarkable. Not one military person in the North is known to view re-conquest as attainable. Neither General M'Clellan, Burnside, Rosencranz, M'Dowell, Halleck, or Buell, have ever publicly declared, so far as it has reached us, that the object of the Government they serve under is feasible. The ignominious task of prophesying triumph has been wisely left to the voluminous despatch writer, who, whatever his accomplishments, or merits, is no more qualified to judge the issue of campaigns than he is to guide the movements of battalions. But, after all, it may be granted in the abstract, that re-conquest is attainable. To genius nothing is denied. The only question it becomes the neutral Powers to consider is, can it be attained by Mr. Lincoln and his colleagues? It is by Mr. Lincoln and his colleagues, if at all, the South is to be conquered. There is not any person in their armies, such as Britain proudly watched in the Peninsula, able to control a Government behind, and overwhelm an enemy in front of him. If there was, they would recall him. It is therefore necessary to inquire what proof of its ability has this aggressive Cabinet developed. Is it in its choice of expeditions or of viceroys? Is it in appointing, superseding, or replacing the commanders it must lean on? Is it in their firm adherence to a principle? At one time they were opposed to the invasion they have plunged into. Is it in their conduct about slavery? At one time they boasted of their disposition to maintain it. Soon after, they desired the Border States to be delivered from it. After that emancipation was declared, but only in the States which were resisting them. The loyal region might preserve the institution—but seceders must renounce it. It ought to flourish where they reign—but not to stand beyond the limits of their sovereignty. But next, a bankrupt treasury would buy it by an outlay equal to the public debt of our country. But, after all, a servile war was indispensable, and so were armies to enforce it. A servile war, however, was proclaimed. The proclamation cannot be considered as unprecedented. The model was before them. Lord of Nature, as he deemed himself, Xerxes ordered lashes to be given to the waves. Swelling with omnipotence, Mr. Lincoln and his colleagues dictate insurrection to the slaves of Alabama. Are these the movements of a Government by which the broken fragments of the Union can be welded, a mighty Continent subdued, 8,000,000 free men braced into a unit, robbed of home, of honour, and of liberty? But who are they arrayed against? The House ought not, indeed, to join in the encomiums on the Southern President, which heat and sympathy have prompted. As no one was deemed happy by the ancients until his life had closed, no one will be stamped as great by us until his enterprise has triumphed. But so much may be hazarded of this extraordinary person that, gifted amply by nature, he has made the union of political and military excellence his object; and that, as far as Europe has observed, in the midst of danger and of care such as few men have the power to imagine, fewer to sustain, he has exhibited the patience and the enterprise, the ardour and the coolness, the heroism and urbanity, from which it generally happens that nations draw their birth and civil wars accept their destination. And this is most important to remember. If we look back to such conjunctures we do not find an instance in which mind, character, capacity have yielded to the want of all, no matter how well sustained the latter as regards forces, numbers, and revenue. The Roman Commonwealth, in spite of territory, population, armies, and resources, was destroyed from wanting any mind by which the mind of Caesar could be balanced and encountered. Holland was lost to Spain when the Prince of Orange and Prince Maurice were superior to all the viceroys and the captains the mother country could oppose to them. Her South American dependencies were gone when she had no opponent of Bolivar. Your Lordships do not want to go back to the enlightened page of Davila or Sully to remind you that the civil wars of France, after ever kind of knot and of vicissitude, all closed in the pre-eminence of Henry IV.; in head and heart the master of his epoch. The Carlists had not any match for Espartero. The Sardinians had not any equal of Radelzky. The same lesson is impressed on us by the unfortunate collision of Washington and George III., of Charles I. and Cromwell. It is true, indeed, that history need not repent itself, and that events are neither bound by theories or precedents. But such experience at least may forcibly suggest to us, that had Southern subjugation belonged to the decrees of fate, an instrument more power- ful than that of Mr. Lincoln and his colleagues would be seen conducing to the sentence. It is not going beyond the bounds of caution to allege that a new chapter will be opened in the annals of mankind, if on this unrivalled scene the qualities which they regard with scorn are found triumphant over those which they agree to follow and to reverence. But, last of all, if Mr. Lincoln and his colleagues could succeed against the leader and the armies which oppose them, could they succeed against their own consciousness—revealed to us by many signs—of incapacity to do so?

If noble Lords agree, therefore, with the financial world, with military men, and with the Government of Washington itself, that the issue is not doubtful, and if therefore Great Britain has the right to acknowledge Southern independence, why ought she to exercise it? The first answer is:—Because honour calls on her to do so, and it rests on a detail which may be rapidly presented to your Lordships. British Consuls have remained during the war at Mobile, Charleston, and Savannah. They are there for the protection of our subjects, who reside by thousands on the seaboard. In times like these their presence is essential. Were it not for Consuls to identify them, the severe enlistment laws of the Confederacy might at any time descend on our people; or in the sudden turns of war their goods might be destroyed without a clue to ownership or means of compensation. They are also there to witness the blockade, and to report upon its efficacy. And these Consuls draw their exequaturs from the Government of Washington. They are a standing derogation to the Power which receives, which shelters, and endures them. We are not inclined to withdraw them. We ought, therefore, to accredit them to the insurgent who permits them to reside. And if we do, he is acknowledged. Honour forbids nations, as it does men, to run up a score of gratitude themselves, and to create a score of just resentment, in its object; to offer insult at the moment they are profiting by favour. In one sense alone do the Confederacy gain by the arrangement. We give them all the grandeur of forbearance. They allow our Consuls to reside, and we withhold the recognition which public law entitles them to ask of us. But is not our aspect, with regard to them, a poor one? We deny their rights over their territory, and yet at their hands receive the safety of our citizens. The Southern Congress is about to entertain the question of any longer tolerating our Consuls in this attitude. And what will be the situation of Great Britain if led by-and-by to do by interest and by convenience, what self-respect, and pride and justice dictate at this moment.

The neutrality we vaunt is the next consideration, which, if fairly viewed, would lead Great Britain to the course I have adverted to. The noble Lord the Secretary of State, in his despatch to Mr. Mason, dated August 2, has pointed out that the great controversy on the right to secede, so long and frequently debated in America, cannot be resolved by foreign Governments. It is not for them to decide between the arguments of Webster and Colhoun. They ought rather to reserve their judgment, considering the balance of the argument and the intricacy of the circumstances, than to pronounce in favour of secession or against it. But by withholding recognition when the issue no longer seems to be a doubtful one, when the danger of re-conquest is not the restraining fact, Great Britain does pronounce against the title to secede, does stamp the Southern movement as illegal, does therefore part with the neutrality which orders silence on that question. On what other ground is she refusing to acknowledge? And let your Lordships mark that by acknowledgment you do not for a moment stamp with your authority the claims of the insurgent—you give no verdict in his favour. If you did, the history of the world would have to be re-written. If you did, this country would never have been able to acknowledge the Revolutionary Government of France in February, 1848, which derived its short-lived power from neither throne, nor law, nor parliament, nor people—flung up by the delirium of Paris to sink at once with its repose, and no more to be regarded as the legal rulers of the country than the men in livery who cross the stage to take away the furniture between two acts of an eventful drama which absorbs us can be mistaken for the heroes of the scene or owners of the theatre. Acknowledgment is not a tribute, therefore, to the rights of the insurgents. But when the hazard of re-conquest is dismissed, it is a tribute to the rights of the invader—to withhold it. We are now declaring on the question of a title to secede on which the noble Lord himself, on which neutrality forbids us to be umpires. But even if it did not, the Con- federacy, as Mr. Davis in his recent message has perspicuously explained, have suffered wrongs—although not meant to injure—from Great Britain. Our Government—however conscientiously—held back the Emperor of the French from a proposal which might have eminently served them. With the best intentions and designs they refused to allow the despatch of Mr. Mason on acknowledgment in August, for over six months, to reach the eye and judgment of the country. By denying our harbours to both sides when both might have had access to them—no doubt from a laudable desire of tranquillity—it has compelled the Southerners to burn their prizes on the waters, has thus destroyed their chance of raising privateers, and vastly limited their powers of self-defence against the country which invades them. After inducing the Confederacy, by a transaction which I described a year ago, to pledge itself to the observance of certain rules laid down at Paris in 1856, the British Government has not been ready to maintain them in the vital point that blockades must be effective to be binding. But illustrations of the kind may be dismissed. Partiality to the United States has been avowed in a despatch of March 27, 1862, from the noble Lord to Mr. Adams, and which the Government of Washington have brought before the world in page 62 of the volume they have recently distributed. In resisting the extortionate demands which Mr. Adams had addressed to him, and which, indeed, he manfully exposes, the noble Lord, as a set off to his austerity, declares that allowance has been made for the difficulties which the United States had to contend with in the war; and that public law has been liberally interpreted in their favour. The book is here if noble Lords desire to refer to it. Allowance bus been made for the difficulties of the United States in a war which both humanity and policy forbad, and which their own aggressive faithlessness created. Public law has been interpreted, and liberally, in favour of a Government which supports the infamous M'Neil, lays waste the houses of distinguished adversaries in Virginia; which ruins havens in Savannah and in Charleston; which is ready to let loose 4,000,000 negroes on their compulsory owners; and to renew from sea to sea the horrors and the crimes of St. Domingo. But let it be so. I did not come here to impugn the decisions of the noble Lord. He is not called upon to vindicate them. I mention these unfavourable actions to the South, without a view to censure of the Government. The only inference I draw is, that if neutrality directs us, they require an instant course of reparation and of balance. Acknowledgment is the only form in which Great Britain can propose, or in which the injured Power is willing to accept it.

But I will not build up an argument, sufficient as it stands, and go on to the next consideration, which demands (and loudly) such a measure. It is our own security in Canada. A noble Earl who gained his laurels in the East, well pointed out to us last Session, that whenever the war closed Canada would be endangered. If victorious, the Northern States might attack it in the drunkenness of pride; if defeated, in the bitterness of failure. Some men, out of doors have been so infatuated as to hold that by carefully abstaining from anything which gives umbrage to the United States, we should defend it. As if aggressive Powers had ever been restrained, by wanting pretexts, from the wars they were inclined to. The security of Canada is quickly seen by your Lordships to reside in one circumstance alone—the danger of attacking it. That danger will at least be greater when the Southern Power is friendly to Great Britain than when it is estranged, inasmuch as the aggressive State will then have to contemplate the chance of an attack upon his rear as well as the bombardment of his cities and destruction of his commerce. No doubt, Canada is safe while the civil war continues; but we are neither able nor entitled to prolong it for her safety. The civil war may close after the acknowledgment of Southern independence by the Emperor, although Great Britain has not shared that manifesto. We may not be able much longer to keep back the virtue and humanity, as well as all the interests, the fears, and wants which tend to force the measure upon Europe. From the moment separation was inevitable, no statesman could be blind to our want of an ally on the other side of the Atlantic. The United States can never possibly become one, not only because they are embittered, or because our interests are clashing, or because our institutions are repugnant, or because a rivalry is forced upon us in manufactures, and in ships, but because no alliance has ever yet occurred between the mother country and the Power who had violently broken from it. The friendly disposition of the South is therefore necessary to us. It is attainable. And if we wantonly forego it, if we allow the war to close before we have acknowledged, both the separated Powers being irrevocably hostile to us, we may be forced, now to guard Canada from one, now the West Indies from the other. Our diplomatists, moreover, would have no influence or voice in the Confederacy, whether they attempted to soften the resentments which the war had left behind it, to gain legitimate advantages in trade, to deprecate aggressive views, or to improve the situation of the negro. But on this point noble Lords who have been our representatives abroad have the materials of thinking far more strongly than myself in the direction I have pointed to.

Dismissing policy, I need touch but briefly on the moral obligation to acknowledge, because, on grounds already stated, it applies generally to the case of neutrals and insurgents, when the hazard of re-conquest is exhausted. It arises from the circumstance adverted to before, that in the civil wars of Europe, since the time of Charles V. (and to these may be added that of the Swiss cantons and the House of Austria in the middle ages), the acknowledgment of neutrals has preceded the conclusion of hostilities; and while that preface is withheld, that close is not to be anticipated. It is only requisite to glance at the special circumstances which enhance an abstract duty as regards Great Britain and the war which is before us. The first and most striking is the Lancashire distress, which is not likely to pass off until cotton falls in price, and rises in abundance. And that can hardly be expected to occur until the war is over. No man, conversant with political economy, supposes that cotton crops will start into existence in other portions of the world, while an avalanche of 4,000,000 bales impends upon the market from America. But that it does so, our Consuls in the South, Mr. Bunch and Mr. Molyneux, have recently informed us in public letters, known to all the trading world. The impression that the price will be depressed during the existence of the war is strengthened by what has fallen from Mr. Bazley, Mr. Bright, Mr. Mangles, and Mr. Laing, the highest practical authorities, who have all addressed the public on the topic. Another special circumstance is, that the present war—waged between descendants of Great Britain — appears to be unequalled in the records of the annalist, or the conceptions of the poet, for the masses exposed to death, the area through which the carnage is extended, the amount of families divided and bereaved, the bitter and relentless passions which exasperate the combatants. Beyond this, the Government of Washington are more incapable of making peace spontaneously than any other which has ever grappled with insurgents, considering the pledges they have made, the debts they have incurred, the hosts they have annihilaled. As well might you require a man to perform a useful amputation on himself against the influence of others, as expect that Mr. Lincoln and his colleagues can terminate the war against the South, whilst Europe still excludes it from the family of nations. The duty to give the strife a possibility of closing, is immensely heightened by the fact that they appear to be pursuing it in the midst of well-founded despair, and under a necessity which only neutrals can annihilate. That they are doing so will appear to those who watch the tone of Mr. Greeley in The New York Tribune, who observe the desperate expedient of enlisting negro regiments, and who reflect that West Virginia would be useless as a State unless the two belligerents were separated. But let any one recall the past, and reason for a moment on this question. Would Mr. Lincoln and his colleagues have embarked upon the war had they foreseen the tenor of its history? If, on the eve of crossing the Potomac, a higher Power had revealed to them the panorama of disaster and disgrace which they were doomed to bring upon their country; the panic of Bull Run; the scared and broken columns falling into Washington; the long and dreary autumn of paralysis which followed; the victories which took away the hope of any Southern party for the Union, and which as loudly as defeats proclaimed the madness of their enterprise; the cotton blazing on the Mississippi as they reached it; the capture of New Orleans without a practical result beyond the indignation of the world at the revolting tyranny which held it; had they caught a glimpse of the engagements which drove General M'Clellan to his gunboats—the scions of a Royal house partaking his confusion—and seen the tide of war rolled back upon their territory, and then another host sent out to dissolve itself, to put an end to the anxiety of Richmond, and to perform the tragedy of Fredericksburg; and, last of all, had they been able to forecast, with eighteen vessels hot in their pursuit, the Southern cruisers roaming on the sea triumphant and implacable;—would they have been deaf to the commissioners in the spring of 1861? would they have scorned a peace? would they have sent their expedition to Fort Sumter? would they have trampled on the law to plunge into hostilities? Then, are they not reluctantly pursuing them without a choice, till neutrals have acknowledged the insurgent? Shall Europe any longer chain them to the effort? Or, rather, when the Emperor desires to release, ought we to keep them inert and helpless victims on the lake of fire their blunders have created?

My Lords, these grand considerations of honour, of neutrality, of policy, and duty, would lead the people of the country to require an acknowledgment of Southern, independence, were it not for the delusions as to slavery, which for a month or two have been promoted, and which, unless I am enabled to confront, I should seem, perhaps, to have avoided. To confront is to expose them. And the shortest method which occurs to me, is at once to drive these puny agitators to an issue. They have deceived the working classes of the country by confounding questions about slavery, which ought not to be discussed, with the only one which it behoves the British public to consider. We may go on eternally debating whether the desire to extend and to preserve it was at the bottom of secession; whether the desire to abridge or to eradicate it was at the bottom of invasion. These points, involving the recesses of the human heart, are little known even in America. History may discuss: Omniscience only can determine them. And it is idle mockery to force them on a mass of operatives, divided by 3,000 miles from any clue to the inquiry. The legitimate, the only issue is (and they will not venture to deny it), whether separation or reconquest will be most conducive to the welfare of the negro; the prosperity of Africa, and the attainment of the objects which have long engaged the Buxtons, and the Wilberforces, and other admirable men who scorn to be connected with this diminutive machinery for prolonging war on one side of the ocean, by spreading fiction on the other. We should therefore trace, and it is quickly done, the natural results of the alternatives. In the event of separation, there will no longer be the possibility of extending negro bondage into territories in which it Joes not now exist. Already it is settled in New Mexico. And no boundary you can well conceive will give the Southern States uncultivated land beyond that Northern limit. In the event of separation, the North will not return the negro fugitives who cross over its border. And the planter must retain them, not by law and terror, but by judgment and humanity. There will be a premium on benevolence, a penalty on inattention and injustice, which has not heretofore existed. Slaves will be contented, or escape. Under the Union they found a prison in a continent. In the event of separation, the whole question of black labour may be impartially considered by the Southerners. Whereas, during the last decade the violence of the Northern Abolitionists had fixed the system, had inflamed into a point of honour, or a passion, the opinions against which they were crusaders. In what manner would re-conquest operate upon the negro? A servile war would be its melancholy preface, in which murder confronts the slave and rapine the proprietor. In such a conflict, many blacks must be exterminated, and nearly all the higher classes driven from the country. The dismantled houses and the confiscated fields become the property of Northerners. The conquerors at once discover that the soil is worthless unless the labour of the black may be applied to it. The negroes who survive, demoralized and scattered, will not be all of them recaptured; and if they were, would be inadequate in number to the purpose. How are the new proprietors, desiring wealth and jealous of sterility, to find the labour which is wanting to them? Africa is open. Africa contains the millions they are seeking. The flag of the United States before now has unfortunately been a shelter to the slave trade. The want of the United States may prove its resurrection in America. And this, too, is unanswerable. During the last few years, while the Union went on undivided, the efforts of Great Britain on the subject were defeated. As soon as ever the civil war divided it, the Government of Washington conceded the right of search; while their organs insolently told us that it would be withdrawn as soon as Southern subjugation was accomplished. After this, what man can be so mad as to declare that the friends of Africa and of her race ought to concur with the invaders and advance pleas in their behalf, which they themselves have not the forehead to resort to?

The only further sentiment which in the event of other neutrals being prepared might indispose the country to acknowledgment is a lingering idea that the cause of freedom is involved in the retention of the Union. It is just therefore to inquire for whose advantage it would come again into existence. We have seen it would not be for that of Africa or of the negro. It could not be for that of the seceders, as the miseries of New Orleans have explained, where that rule has been established, and those terrors have been felt, which would then apply to all the cities of their territory. Who says they ought not to perish rather than submit to a yoke more bitter and degrading than was ever known yet in Warsaw or in Venice? But language shrinks from such a topic. Then, would it be restored for the advantage of the North? At least they can only gain their object, if it is attainable, through the medium of a general who, when he had attained it, must rank among the highest conquerors — with Caesar, Charlemagne, Napoleon. Would such a character be likely to resign his arms to Mr. Lincoln and his colleagues? What temptation could he have to conduct so derogatory and to sacrifice so thankless? It was thought by many that General M'Clellan at the time of his dismissal might have turned his regiments on the capital with safety. And there were not wanting those who loudly censured his forbearance. In this war there has been no fact more pregnant and instructive than the disposition, in spite of his reverses, to exalt him. For many months a halo has surrounded his inaction. Would the army then refuse to follow one who had performed marvels instead of shrinking before obstacles; who had given them the plunder of the south instead of leading them through hardships and privations to their starting-point; who had won affection, not by his designs and his retreats, but by his actions and his progress; whose title rested on the fact, not that Baltimore was safe, but that Montgomery had fallen. A tide of arguments would rush into the mind of such a general, to dissuade him from surrendering his power to institutions so discredited, so trampled on, and so remote from those which Washington bequeathed, as he would find subsisting in his country? But the impulse from within would be exceeded by the pressure from without. In a sickened and disorganized society which only pants for rule, he would not choose but be coerced into the part of a dictator. And is it for a despotism that the people of the North are pouring out their blood, and tarnishing their glory? Already it exists. It had its birth in war, and it would take its immortality from conquest. Then, would the Union be restored for the advantage of the world? What country would be safer? Would Brazil? What country would be freer? Would Poland gain when the only patron of the Czar recovered his original dimensions? At first, indeed—for facts will ever guide the calculation of your Lordships—the necessity of Southern garrisons might tend to keep them in repose. But in a few years—they do not labour to conceal it from us—a power more rapacious, more unprincipled, more arrogant, more selfish and encroaching, would arise than has ever yet increased the outlay, multiplied the fears, and compromised the general tranquillity of Europe. And on this overgrown, on this portentous form of tyranny and egotism, many countries would depend for the material of that important industry which languishes at present.

My Lords, the latter point might be explained by statistics I have with me. But it will hardly be impugned, and it is more important to remind you that not much more than five years have elapsed since France and Great Britain were united to withstand a Power which overshadowed and assailed the general security of nations. To gain their object it was requisite to interrupt a peace of forty years, and squander noble lives upon the trenches and the battle-field. In order now to reach equivalent results and parallel advantages, they are required not to lavish, but to save; not to arm battalions, but disperse them; not to open conflict in the world, but snatch an hemisphere from misery. What in Russia wanted toil, outlay, unmeasured risks, and endless combinations, for aught we know may be accomplished by a fiat in America. And the presence of a noble Duke on the bench (the Duke of Newcastle) might have suggested to me, that there are some inherent evils in the partnership of arms which have not any place in the alliance of diplomacy. The initiative will belong to France. But if it did not, should Great Britain be ashamed of it? Whoever contemplates habitually her place or aspect on the globe, will sometimes think that it imposes a double task on her career to urge on civilization from its Eastern cradle to its Western home, and also as the firm and watching outpost of the sea, to stand between the older Powers and the evils which the other side of the Atlantic may occasionally threaten. Long has she fulfilled the first, and nobly may she now sustain the second part of the vocation which belongs to her. And if it suits the dignity of empire to compass large results by trifling exertions—instead of wasting giant means upon invisible achievements — the day will be a proud one, when in a voice which Europe has re-echoed her message rolls over the waters to guard the freedom of the Old World, and limit, if not arrest, the sorrows of the New. But whether we resolve to lead or hesitate to follow, whether we retard, or join, or suffer isolation from the continent, I shall be indebted to your Lordships for permitting me to show to-night, that the neutral Powers have at once the right and duty to acknowledge the Confederacy, and that according to the only lights their rulers are possessed of until that measure is adopted, the war can never end.

EARL RUSSELL

My Lords, I suppose there is no Member of either House of Parliament who does not wish for the termination of the civil war in America. It disturbs commerce, it puts to hazard the peace of the world, and it afflicts America herself; and if anything could be usefully, and, I must add, justly done to bring that war to a termination, I repent there is no Member of either House of Parliament, and no person in the country, who would not gladly see such a consummation. But, after having listened to my noble Friend, I must confess I remain in the-same persuasion as before at the present moment—and I speak only of the present moment—that there is nothing this country could do usefully and wisely which would tend to the termination of the hostilities on the other side of the Atlantic. My noble Friend has somewhat mixed different topics, and he has alluded to three different modes of intervention of States in the affairs of other countries. One — which is the minimum of interference—that of advice, good offices, and mediation another, the mode proposed by my noble Friend to-night, that of recognition; and the third, one which we have sometimes resorted to, and which other nations have more frequently had recourse to — that of forcible intervention. My noble Friend says, and says truly, that since I had the honour of addressing the House last sum- mer there has been some divergence between the views on this subject of the Government of this country and that of the Emperor of the French. The Government of the Emperor of the French conceives that it might tend to the termination of the war if three Powers—France, Great Britain, and Russia—were to propose a suspension of hostilities with a view of negotiation between the two belligerents. Her Majesty's Government, after carefully examining that proposition, came to the conclusion that its adoption by us would not be likely to lead to its acceptance by the Government of the United States of America; while, if that should be the case, by causing irritation, it would not increase but diminish the chances of our seeing a termination of the contest. The French Government has since proceeded in accordance with its views, and has actually proposed to the Government of the United States to negotiate with the Southern States. That proposition has not been adopted; and I think your Lordships will judge from what has happened with reference to the proposals of France, and with reference to suggestions thrown out in other countries, that this policy of good officers and mediation is not, at the present moment, likely to tend to promote peace, but rather to provoke measures of opposition; and thus the reproach would be cast upon this country that we had aggravated the evils of the present lamentable state of affairs in America. It does not appear, at the present moment, that this contest would be likely to be terminated by an offer of our good offices. I say at the present moment, because it is impossible to say that in the course of events a time may not come when both the contending parties would be desirous of the good offices or wise counsels of friendly Powers. I do not see any probability of that at this moment, but I wish to guard myself against being supposed to speak positively of the future. We come, then, to the course proposed by my noble Friend—namely, that of recognition. My noble Friend alluded to several cases—not very happy illustrations of his argument, I think—in which the United States of America have recognised insurgent countries which they believed likely to be able to maintain their independence. One was the revolted State of Hungary, whose independence had ceased to appear—it had sunk like the island in the Mediterranean—had disappeared before the despatch reached Vienna by which the United States recognised it. Another instance referred to by my noble Friend scarcely comes within the category of recognition, though it has been quoted by a gentleman who has written some very able letters under the title of "Historicus,"— I mean the recognition of the United States themselves by France, two years after the war with this country, in 1772, had begun. If any one will examine that precedent, and the important documents which have lately come to light, he will see that the French monarchy of the day had for some years—most unfortunately for itself—been exciting democratic passions in America, and had been endeavouring to raise opposition there to the Government of Great Britain. It had prepared means of concert with these States; and even in the letter, so courteous in appearance, but so exceedingly hostile and bitter in its spirit, written by the French Ambassador at the Court of St. James's, it was stated that the French Government had not only made a treaty of commerce with the United States, which they had already recognised, but further, that they had a right to carry that treaty into effect, if necessary, even by force. This was a threat to take part in the war between Great Britain and her revolted colonies. But we know, that besides this open threat, there was a secret treaty signed, by which France pledged herself to lend her support to the revoked provinces; and the Government and the Opposition of this country, which was then as decided as ever any Opposition was, agreed that the threat was one of war, and that by war only could it be met. This, therefore, was not a case of recognition, but a ease of interference. It was, I think, a most unjustifiable interference—an interference for the purpose of spreading those democratic principles, which afterwards reacted on France, and produced so many excesses and crimes during the Revolution. Well, then, with regard to the other cases to which my noble Friend has alluded, those of Portugal and Holland were cases of forcible intervention. There is hardly more than one case in which the question was limited to simple recognition—that was the war carried on between Spain and her revolted colonies, which went on from 1808 to 1822 or 1823 without any proposal for a recognition. This case is one worthy of the attention of your Lordships, because it was illustrated by the mild wisdom of Lord Lansdowne, by the profound research of Sir James Mackintosh, and by the dazzling genius of Canning. We have therefore, upon this question of recognition, as much light as can possibly be thrown upon any subject. Now, I beg to refer your Lordships to the words of Lord Lansdowne. He was zealous for the recognition of the South American Provinces; he thought it would be a great advantage to this country to recognise them, and he was entirely free from any trammels of office, or any obligation to consult the interests of the Minister of the day. But, with that wisdom and forbearance which characterized every act of his public life, he stated, "The first point to consider is whether you have the right; "and he went on thus— It will be my duty this night to point out to your Lordships the great advantages which may result from the establishment of South American independence. I hope I shall never stand up in this House to recommend your Lordships to adopt any course of policy inconsistent with those principles of right which are paramount to all expediency, and which compose that great law of nations any departure from which, to answer a selfish and ambitious policy, never fails to recoil upon its authors." [2 Hansard, x. 973.] These are words upon which this House may well reflect; and we may well consider upon what grounds Lord Lansdowne founded the views which I have just brought under the notice of your Lordships. In the first place, he stated it was necessary that a country which required to be recognised should have established its independence. In the next place, that it should be able to maintain that independence for the future. And lastly, that it should be able to carry on with all foreign nations those relations of peace and amity which form the general international law of the world. Now, examine the state of the revolted provinces of Spain at that time, as Sir James Mackintosh and Mr. Canning did. We find that the greater part of South America had been some twelve or fourteen years entirely free from the presence of Spanish armies. We find that with regard to those provinces in which that was not absolutely the case—namely, Mexico, where Vera Cruz alone was occupied by a Spanish garrison, and Peru, where there were 4,000 or 5,000 Spanish troops, although the cause of Spain seemed hopeless — it was agreed that their recognition should be deferred; and that only in the case of Buenos Ayres, and those parts of South America which had clearly and for a number of years established their independence, would it be right for Great Britain to proceed to the step of recognition. Besides this, Mr. Canning took care to inform the Spanish Minister that such recognition would not be very long delayed; that if the Spanish Government wished to recognise them, they ought to take that step, and that Great Britain was willing to give time before proceeding to recognise them herself. Well, here is a great precedent for our consideration—here is a step taken by the Government of the day after considerable care and examination; here is a course recommended by the Opposition of the day—not in any harsh spirit, but notwithstanding the conviction which this country generally entertained that the cause of Spain was hopeless, and that the independence of those provinces was firmly established. Well, now, if we look to the present position of North America, and compare it with that of the States of which Lord Lansdowne spoke, we find that the war in North America is still carried on with the utmost vigour—I had almost said with the utmost fury. We find some of those provinces which were the first to proclaim their independence—a great part of Louisiana, New Orleans, and the banks of the Mississippi, occupied by the Federal armies. There are very considerable Federal armies menacing cities of the Confederation, such as Charleston and Savannah. So that no man can say it is a case of hopeless war. For my own part, and speaking according to my limited vision, I do not believe those efforts of the Federals will be successful. No man can say that the North will subdue the South; but no man can say that the war is finally over, or that the independence of the Southern States is established. Well, then, what is the present state of the case? Although great efforts have been made in vain, the great Federal Republic seems unwilling to accept the decision of events. So far from it, we find the last acts of the Congress which has just expired are to place, by conscription, every man fit to carry arms at the disposal of the President of the United States, and to vote sums of money amounting to no less than £180,000,000 sterling for the purpose of carrying on the war. Then, in this state of affairs I should say, that looking to the question of right, it would not be a friendly act towards the United States, it would not be to fulfil our obligations to a country with which we have long maintained relations of pence and amity—a great country which says it can still carry on the war—it would, I say, be a failure of friendship on our part if at this moment we were to interpose and recognise the Southern States. I have endeavoured to guard myself by saying that I speak now with reference to the present aspect of affairs, I hardly know any moment in which my noble Friend could have brought forward his Motion with less encouragement from events. It may turn out that these immense efforts which are being made by the Federal Government shall be made in vain; that the spirit of the South is unconquerable as their determination never to be united again with the Northern States is final and irrevocable; and that a time may come when the duty of this country will be totally different from what it is at the present moment. All that may be the case—all I maintain is, that it is our duty at present to stand still and not to proceed to an act so definite, be positive—an act so unfriendly to the United States as the recognition of the South. My noble Friend spoke of various topics—of danger of Canada being attacked by the Northern Republic, and of the West Indies being attacked by the Southern. My Lords, I cannot follow my noble Friend into these suppositions. I do not venture to say what may be the future course of events. I confine myself to that which I think to be our duty now, which I think is right; and if that be so, we must be content in future days to meet with future dangers, and it will not enfeeble our arms if we have it in our power to reflect that we have never failed in our obligations to those which have been great States in peace and amity with us, and that it has not been through any fault of ours that a great affliction has fallen on them. Well, my Lords, I know not that there is anything in what my noble Friend has said to-night which would make it necessary for me to go much further into this question; but at the same time there were allusions in parts of his speech to former occasions and former instances of interference on our part, as if my noble Friend and some of those who looked forward to his Motion to-night expected that there should be some interference on our part in this war. Now, my Lords, I wish to say only a few words upon that which we have done in former days by way of intervention. We, too, like other States, though not so often as some, have at times taken upon us to intervene. We interfered in the case of Holland to save her from the religious tyranny and political despotism of Philip II. That contest was hallowed by the blood of Sir Philip Sydney, and by the part we took we contributed to her independence. In another case—the case of Portugal—we interfered. Charles I., Cromwell, and Charles II., all agreed in that interference. We declared ourselves ready to send 10,000 men to the aid of the new Government of Portugal, and we helped the Portuguese to relieve themselves from the Spanish tyranny under which they groaned, and to establish the independence of their State. In more recent times, when Greece endeavoured to establish her independence, we aided her in her contest with Turkey; we rescued her from the destruction which threatened her, and helped her to found a free and independent monarchy. Take the case of Belgium again. When the Belgians declared that they were unable to remain under the Government of Holland, in accordance with the Treaty of Vienna, we interfered by force, in conjunction with France; and the wise and happy arrangement was made by which the freedom of Belgium was secured. Now, my Lords, in all these instances, whether the intervention was carried on by our ancestors or in our own times, there is nothing of which an Englishman need be ashamed. If we have taken part in interventions, it has been in behalf of the independence, freedom, and welfare of a great portion of mankind. I should be sorry, indeed, if there should be any intervention on the part of this country which could bear another character, I trust that this will not be the case, and that no interests, deeply as they may affect us—interests which imply the well-being of a great portion of our people, but interests which may affect also the freedom and happiness of other parts of the globe—will induce us to set an example different from that of our ancestors; but that when we feel ourselves bound to interfere—and may it be seldom—it will be an interference in the cause of liberty and to promote the freedom of mankind, as we have hitherto done in these cases. It is with this conviction that I have addressed these few remarks as to what has been done by this country in former days; and I trust that with regard to this civil war in America we may be able to continue our impartial and neutral course. Depend upon it, my Lords, that if that war is to cease, it is far better it should cease by a conviction, both on the part of the North and the South, that they can never live again happily as one community and one republic, than that the termination of hostilities should be brought about by the advice, the mediation, or the interference of any European Power. I repeat, I have spoken only of the duty of the Government at the present time, and I trust that there will now be no further debate on this subject.