APPENDIX A.
LETTER ON THE DEFENCES OF THE COUNTRY.
Early in the year 1848, on the eve of the great convulsion caused by the French Revolution of February, Mr. Cobden delivered a speech in Manchester in which he ridiculed armaments and attacked the Duke of Wellington for his recent attempt to call public attention to the defences of the country. This led Mr. Greville to address the following letter to Mr. Cobden, in the 'Times' of February 2, 1848:—
Sir,—I have read with regret your recent speech at Manchester, more especially your comments on the Duke of Wellington's letter to Sir John Burgoyne, which are as unworthy of yourself as they are unjust and disrespectful to that illustrious person. It is fit that the real facts concerning that letter and its publication should be made known to the world, for the exaggerations and misrepresentations which have grown out of it are both injurious to the Duke of Wellington, and the source of much mischief and error in respect to the vexed question of national defence.
The letter (which is now above a year old) was a reply to one addressed by Sir John Burgoyne to his Grace upon the defence of the country. It was an exposition of the Duke's views and opinions, written, not merely without the least notion of its ever being published, but imparted confidentially, and (as I believe) without any idea that the contents of it would ever be divulged; but, by a most extraordinary and reprehensible breach of propriety and prudence, copies were taken of this letter, which were carelessly distributed, and almost hawked about the world. Curiosity and interest soon became excited. These copies were greedily sought, and particularly by those who subscribe to the Duke's opinions on the subject. Allusions and extracts first made their appearance in a newspaper, and at length the letter was published in extenso, without the consent or knowledge, and (as those who best know his sentiments affirm) very much to the annoyance and displeasure of the Duke. It is a great mistake to deal with this letter as if it were a formal official document, taken out of a Blue Book. No man knows better than the Duke of Wellington the difference between what is desirable and what is practicable. In writing confidentially to his military colleague, he naturally imparted to him what he thought it would be expedient to do; but, in dealing practically with such a subject, we may be sure that he never loses sight of the various complex considerations which the Government must look to, and of the necessity of combining the military exigencies with the political and financial circumstances of the country.
In explaining that the Duke's letter was not intended for publication, I am far from meaning to admit that the letter itself requires any apology, though the same cannot be said of the comments you have thought fit to make upon it; you misrepresented both its matter and its spirit, and all who respect your character and admire your abilities must have lamented to hear you treat the Duke himself with a contumely unbecoming in the mouth of any one, but especially so in that of a man with the high reputation which you deservedly enjoy. In vain, too, do we look in your speech for any of that vigorous reasoning with which you fought the great battle of Free Trade. Had you not sustained that cause with more forcible arguments than you have produced on the present occasion, you would never have obtained a European celebrity, and the flag might still be flying on the citadel of Protection.
You, and those who think with you, appear to rely mainly on two propositions:—
1. That a war with France is next to impossible; so improbable as to be not worth providing against.
2. That, in case of war, our naval superiority will always protect us from invasion or insult.
So far as I can find out, the only reasons and arguments by which you maintain the former of these propositions are your own demonstration that all nations would do well and wisely to turn their swords into ploughshares, and for the future to interchange merchandise instead of blows, and the fact that some French Free Traders have been making speeches marvellously resembling your own, and abounding with the same wholesome truths. The recommendations of Messrs. Visinet and Crémieux, as well as your own, are unquestionably replete with wisdom, and happy would it be if all the world would embrace them; if, besides such admirable speeches, we could see any essential reduction in the French tariff, or if the efforts of the French Opposition were seriously directed to promote the cause of commercial reform; but although you, Sir, in your recent tour throughout Europe, have been everywhere received with all the honour which is justly due to you, and though you have abundantly scattered the seeds of sound information and advice, we have yet to learn that any one country that you have visited, or any one Government with which you communicated, has put your lessons in practice.
DEFENCES OF THE COUNTRY.
But while we are invited to accept such speculative reasoning as conclusive proof of the inviolability of peace, unfortunately one page of very recent history sweeps away the whole concatenation of your logic, the narration of which may produce something both of reflexion and anticipation. I admit that a war with France is not a probable event, but the same thing might have been said (perhaps with more truth) in 1844. The present Government, indeed, is no less pacifically inclined than the last, but it is well known that the relations of the two countries are by no means so intimate now as they were at the former period; and if, by any unhappy accident, differences should now occur, the same facilities for reconciliation and adjustment might not be forthcoming. And yet, in 1844, with the entente cordiale in full force, when M. Guizot and Lord Aberdeen were knit together by the closest ties of personal as well as diplomatic friendship, we suddenly found ourselves on the very brink of war. Everybody must remember the Tahiti affair, but many may have forgotten or never known its momentous details. The English Government considered itself aggrieved by France, and demanded reparation for the alleged wrong. The French Minister refused to give us the full measure of satisfaction that our honour required. A serious, and for a long time a fruitless discussion ensued between the two Governments, pending which an adjournment of the two Houses of Parliament took place. About a month afterwards (in the beginning of September) they met again. The day was fixed for the prorogation, and still the dispute with France was unsettled. At this crisis, and at the eleventh hour, a last offer was made by the French Government. There was barely time to consider it. The Cabinet was assembled for that purpose on the afternoon of the 4th. On the result of its deliberations the question of peace or war depended. There was very little to spare, for the maximum which M. Guizot could bring himself to offer was the minimum that we could with honour accept. However, the proposal was accepted, and on the following day the speech from the Throne announced that the reconciliation was effected, but in terms which showed the magnitude of the danger from which the world had escaped. 'Her Majesty,' it ran, 'has recently been engaged in discussions with the Government of the King of the French on events calculated to interrupt the good understanding and friendly relations between this country and France; you will rejoice to learn that, by the spirit of justice and moderation which has animated the two Governments, this danger is now happily averted.' The storm blew over, the Funds rose, and the country (slightly ruffled) relapsed into its ordinary state of security and repose. For some time before this incident, the Duke of Wellington had been urging the Government to make themselves stronger, and our naval force had been considerably increased. But it is not surprising that what had recently occurred, and the narrow escape we had had of being actually at war, should have made the Duke still more anxiously alive to the situation in which the country would have been placed if a rupture had unhappily taken place. He knew that the risks to which it was exposed were incalculably great. He knew that, in spite of all the difficulties we could interpose, it was far from impossible for an able and active enemy to inflict upon us, unprepared as we were, a disastrous, and a dishonourable blow. The spirit and patriotism of the warrior and the statesman rose up within him at the degrading thought, and from that moment he has never ceased to urge the Government of the day to place the country as soon as possible in a proper posture of defence; not, as it has been falsely and foolishly asserted, to prepare in peace for the last extremity, and incur the full cost of war, but, by making our moderate establishments really efficient, and adopting those defensive precautions which his great sagacity and profound knowledge of the art of war enabled him to suggest, to place the British Islands in a state of security against any sudden attack. And for thus contemplating the possibility of a catastrophe, which all but happened not four years ago, and for warning his countrymen against the danger, and showing them how to avert it, he is held up to the derision of a great assembly as a mischievous dotard, whose age is his only excuse. Having thrust aside the Duke of Wellington, you consistently proceeded in your speech to inform your audience that of such questions as the probability of peace or war, questions depending on various complex and secret operations of international policy, 'merchants and manufacturers, shopkeepers, operatives—ay, and calico printers,' are the most competent judges. Far be it from me to speak of these classes with the contempt with which you have treated the Duke and all others who defer to his opinions. They are entitled to respect, for they constitute a large part of the intelligence of the nation. Amongst them may be found silly and conceited persons, ready to swallow such flattery as you have condescended to tickle them with, but I believe they are, for the most part, men of sober and robust minds, who will not be misled by such fallacious compliments, and form a juster estimate of their own capacities, and the matters on which their habits, pursuits, and education render them really competent to decide. I think I have shown that war is not a contingency so utterly improbable as you would have the English public believe, and that those who contemplate the possibility of such a calamity are not necessarily the dotards, cowards, and fools, that you represent them. I am satisfied that the Sovereigns, the Ministers, the Parliaments, and the people of both countries desire the maintenance of peace. But what can insure us against future Pritchards, and D'Aubignés, and Bruats? Unforeseen accidents may beget untoward events, and the sparks of a fortuitous collision falling on some combustible matter may produce an explosion of national resentment or pride which no moderation and wisdom may be sufficient to extinguish. We have been taught to believe that the life of the French King is Europe's best security for the continuation of peace. Time is rapidly stealing away that security from us; and who can say when that wise head and steady hand shall be withdrawn, how long the elements of discord and confusion will be prevented from breaking loose? Nothing is more remarkable than the exaggeration which has marked the whole course of opposition to the plans of national defence. Their advocates, the Duke of Wellington at the head of them, are taunted with the folly of proposing a war establishment in a time of profound peace. Do those critics know what it is in contemplation to propose now, and what preparations were made when an invasion was really apprehended? The present purpose is to replenish our empty arsenals, add about 2,000 men to the artillery, and gradually (by 10,000 men at a time) to call out and discipline the Militia; these, together with the completion of the fortifications already in progress, are understood to be the defensive and precautionary measures which Parliament will be invited to sanction, and against which such a clamour is raised. Look at what was done in 1803 and 1804, when war was about to break out, and the camp of Boulogne was in process of formation. To encounter the army of 150,000 men which Napoleon was marshalling on the opposite coast, we had in these islands 650,000 men in arms: there were 130,000 Regulars, 110,000 Militia, and above 400,000 Volunteers. And three years later, when all dread of invasion had vanished, when the navies of France had been utterly destroyed, our forces in England were not less than 200,000 men.
DEFENCES OF THE COUNTRY.
That our naval superiority must always be our chief reliance is undoubtedly true; but here, again, we have history against speculation, and we may look to the past for instruction as to the future. In 1796 nothing but storms and tempests prevented Hoche's expedition from accomplishing the invasion of Ireland or of England, if the French had preferred such an attempt. The events of that period have been thus recorded by Mr. Alison and Mr. James:—'The results of the expedition,' says the former, 'were pregnant with important instruction to both countries: to the French as demonstrating the extraordinary risks which attend a maritime expedition, the small number of forces which can be embarked on board, even of a great fleet, and the unforeseen disasters which frequently on that element defeat the best concerted enterprise; to the English, as showing that the empire of the seas does not always afford security against invasion; that, in the face of superior maritime forces, her possessions had been for sixteen days at the mercy of the enemy, and that neither the skill of her sailors nor the valour of her armies, but the fury of the elements, had saved them from danger in the most vulnerable point of her dominions. While these considerations are fitted to abate the confidence of invasion, they are calculated to weaken our own confidence in naval superiority, and to demonstrate that the only basis on which certain reliance can be placed, even in an insular Power, is a well-disciplined army and the patriotism of its own subjects.' Mr. James says:—'That a succession of storms, such as those with which the British Channel was visited, should disperse an encumbered and ill-manned French fleet ought not to excite surprise, but that during the three or four weeks that the ships of this fleet were traversing the English and Irish Channels in every direction, neither of the two British fleets appointed to look after them should have succeeded in capturing a single ship, may certainly be noted down as an extraordinary circumstance.' Steam has now made a great revolution in naval as well as social affairs; but though, in the long run, this country is more likely to profit by it than France, it is incontestable that the accidents and unforeseen circumstances of modern warfare render this country more vulnerable than it was under the old system. The general arguments have, however, been so amply and so ably stated in publications without end, that it would be superfluous to say more on the reality of the danger, and the wisdom of making adequate provision to meet it. But it is hard for any man who cares for the dignity or safety of his country, and who honours its greatest citizen and patriot, to endure in silence such a speech as you have lately delivered. You have acquired great influence over vast multitudes of men; you may safely guide or mischievously mislead a large amount of public opinion, and those who, from the vigour and intelligence of your past career, entertained sanguine expectations of your future usefulness as a public man, must feel deep disappointment and sorrow at the very different prospect held out by your recent display.
I am, Sir, &c.,
C. C. G.(The 'Times,' February 2, 1848.)