I CHAPTER XVIII A NEW CONCEPTION OF THE NATION'S HONOR 'N domestic affairs the second administration of General Grant beheld a rapid decline in national respectability. Public morality reached a lower ebb than at any previous period and not until the era following the World War was it again approximated. There is comfort, therefore, in following the thread of an honorable foreign policy amid so much else that was dark. Here again the credit belongs chiefly to the Secretary of State, Hamilton Fish, who kept his post throughout the entire eight years of the Grant Administration. THE Virginius AFFAIR In happy accord with the country's peace traditions, the major incident in this second term's diplomacy was Fish's hesitation and forbearance toward waging war with Spain, a weaker power, when circumstances seemed at first to offer provocation. A crisis arose in October, 1873, in connection with the Virginius, a filibustering vessel using the American flag to cover operations on behalf of insurgents who still dragged on their weary contest for Cuban liberation. The Virginius was built in the United States. Since 1870 it was Cuban owned. When trouble arose, the vessel was running from Kingston in Jamaica toward a point in Cuba, with a cargo of munitions and a crew and passenger list numbering one hundred fifty-five. A Spanish warship overtaking her, brought her into Santiago where fifty-three members of this crew and passenger list were court-martialed and shot. The affair concerned America doubly. The Virginius flew our flag; eight of the victims of summary execution were our countrymen. Had final determination of our policy belonged to a hot head like General Sickles, our minister to Spain, war could not have been avoided. But like Soulé's before him, Sickles' war intentions were thwarted by his more cautious chief. The executions occurred between November fourth and eighth. On the seventh Fish telegraphed to Sickles that "if it prove that an American citizen has been wrongfully executed, this government will require most ample reparation." 1 Before Sickles had reached quite the pitch of war, however, he received heartfelt apologies from Emilio Castelar, then President of the Spanish Republic, for the unseemly haste of Cuban authorities in shedding blood. On hearing of the executions of November fourth Castelar telegraphed immediate instructions for delaying further vengeance, but his orders came too late to countermand the further executions of the seventh and eighth. The apologetic attitude of Castelar entitled his government to courtesy from our State Department, and Fish was determined to accord it, though he was hampered by the disingenuous methods of Sickles, who telegraphed whatever news foreshadowed war, relying on the mail for what betokened peace. On November twelfth Fish notified the minister in confidence that investigations were on foot as to the right of the Virginius to the protection of the flag. If no such right should be established, the only ground for war would be the execution of the eight Americans. On the fourteenth, however, Fish sent to Sickles instructions amounting almost to an ultimatum, and the fiery minister's over zealous action in the premises nearly led to war. "Unless abundant reparation shall have been voluntarily tendered," cabled Fish, "you will demand the restoration of the Virginius, and the release and delivery to the United States of the persons captured on her who have not already been massacred, and that the flag of the United States be saluted in the port of Santiago, and the signal punishment of the officials who were concerned in the capture of the vessel and the execution of the passengers and crew. In 1 Quoted in Rhodes, James Ford, History of the United States, VII, p. 30. From Foreign Relations, 1874, p. 922. case of refusal of satisfactory reparation within twelve days from this date you will . . . close your legation and leave Madrid." 2 The following day, on receipt of news that fifty-seven more prisoners were executed and that only eighteen of the captives would be spared, Fish informed the minister that unless Spain punished the offenders, the United States would be compelled to do so, regardless of all consequences. This rumor had no basis, as Fish soon afterward discovered, but its announcement urged Sickles on to rashness. On November 19th he cabled Fish that his legation was not safe from violence, with an incendiary press urging the minister's expulsion from the country.3 Fish meanwhile sensed the folly of trusting any peaceful outcome to Sickles, and transferred negotiations to Washington, where Admiral Polo, the Spanish minister, succeeded in presenting the pacific sentiments which Sickles so distorted. Sickles meanwhile asked for passports, then recalled his action, but the thread of the negotiation was no longer his and he soon resigned, indignant toward the Secretary. Thus in another point his case resembled that of Soulé, whose love for Marcy was as negative as Sickles' was for Fish. At Washington the affair proceeded smoothly. It was agreed between Fish and Admiral Polo that the ship and those of its crew who escaped should be returned. The question of her right to the American flag was reserved for further investigation. If Spain could prove the contrary, well and good. Otherwise on December 25th, she must salute the flag. Furthermore, the Spanish authorities who gave orders for the executions must be punished. The agreement was promptly carried into effect. On December 16th, the Virginius was surrendered to the United States navy. On the journey to New York, however, the vessel sank off the Carolina coast. On the 18th the survivors were restored. Unlike their vessel, they reached their 2 Ibid. p. 33. 3 Ibid. pp. 34-35. country safely. On the question of the flag, however, the Attorney-General of the United States ruled that the Virginius had no right to fly it; that accordingly no salute was needed. Thus ended in its main incidents the affair of the Virginius. It reflected credit on our State Department that so critical a situation had a peaceful termination, for the extent of the crisis is scarcely revealed by the bare details of diplomacy.* One appreciates the cool judgment of the Secretary only when he notes the hysteric fury that engulfed the country on first news of the affair. Cuban leaders in New York organized an indignation meeting on November 17th, where the principal speaker was William M. Evarts, of counsel in the Alabama claims. Steinway Hall was crowded to the doors. An overflow met at Tammany, where Fish was hissed for his indifference to national dishonor, and Spain of course came in for feverish denunciation. Both meetings attracted men of great distinction and with a unanimity recalling its reception of the Trent Affair, the country surrendered to a war hysteria. Governor Hendricks, of Indiana, notified the Steinway gathering that in the opinion of his State the time had come to occupy Cuba. Amid so many counsels of belligerency, Charles Sumner's was an exception. He kept his head. On the 15th of November, in ample time for the Steinway meeting, he wrote a letter designed to influence its sentiment. The message was of peace, but it received no hearing. The leaders would endure no pacifist where war was being thundered. The Sumner letter advocated patience. Our sister republic, it declared, had sufficient troubles of her own without adding others of our making. "Nor can we forget," wrote Sumner, "the noble President [Emilio Castelar] whose eloquent voice pleading for humanity and invoking our example has so often charmed the world." 5 At least one leading organ of American opinion upheld the Secretary in his policy of caution where so many desired action. The Nation, by a critical examination of 4 Rhodes, James Ford, History of the United States, VII, p. 36. 5 Ibid. p. 32. the issues, maintained the liberal tradition first established by its attitude toward slavery. The editorial of November 20th in discussing the affair called attention to the natural preference of Congressmen for war in contrast with dull discussions of finance; to the eagerness of speculators for the excuse of war to inflate the currency; and to the measure of our own guilt in the responsibility for war should such an outcome really happen. "In acting against the Spaniards," said The Nation, "we owe it to ourselves and to international usage to endeavor to put ourselves, to a reasonable degree, in their place. We ought not to forget in measuring their guilt, that the men whom they have massacred are the chiefs and promoters of an insurrection which has now lasted for several years; and which, however noble or justifiable we may think it, they look on as an attempt to dismember and humiliate their country; and which—and this is the most important point of all—has, during that whole period, had its base and headquarters in this city [of New York].' A week later The Nation renewed its argument for peace with a most telling reference to the Law of Nations and the principles governing neutrals which we so consistently had championed. In the long controversy over the right of searching slave ships, we never once maintained a grievance where the ship when searched was found to be in fact a slaver. Our contention merely held that if the ship proved honest, an injury was inflicted by inspecting her. Moreover, said The Nation, in the special case in point a strong resemblance might be found between the Virginius and the Alabama. "Though not technically armed, she was in fact a transport, and as such was as truly warlike at the time as though she carried guns for attack. The broad underlying principle set forth in the Treaty of Washington and affirmed by the Geneva Arbitration clearly applies to her case. The neutral burdens which we have with so great éclat assumed are doubtless heavy; but it would be monstrous to see them thrown off in the very first instance where their pressure begins to be felt."7 The Nation, vol. XVII, p. 334, Nov. 20, 1873. |