“The dispatch to Motley (which I learn by a telegram from him has been received) is a calm, full review of our entire case, making no demand, no valuation of damages, but I believe covering all the ground and all the points that have been made on our side. I hope that it will meet your views. I think it will. It leaves the question with Great Britain to determine when any negotiations are to be renewed.”
The Secretary was right in his description. It was a “full review of our entire case,” “covering all the ground and all the points”; and it did meet my views, as the Secretary thought it would, especially where it arraigned so strongly that fatal concession of belligerent rights on the ocean, which in any faithful presentment of the national cause will always be the first stage of evidence,—since, without this precipitate and voluntary act, the Common Law of England was a positive protection against the equipment of a corsair ship, or even the supply of a blockade-runner for unacknowledged rebels. The conformity of this dispatch with my views was recognized by others besides the Secretary. It is well known that Lord Clarendon did not hesitate in familiar conversation to speak of it as “Mr. Sumner’s speech over again”; while another English personage said that “it out-Sumnered Sumner.” And yet, with his name signed to this dispatch, written at my suggestion, and in entire conformity with my views, as admitted by him and recognized by the English Government, the Secretary taunts Mr. Motley for supposed harmony with me on this very question. This taunt is still more unnatural when it is known that this dispatch is in similar conformity with the “memoir” of Mr. Motley, and was evidently written with knowledge of that admirable document, where the case of our country is stated with perfect mastery. But the story does not end here.
On the communication of this dispatch to the British Government, Mr. Thornton was instructed to ascertain what would be accepted by our Government, when the Secretary, under date of Washington, November 6, 1869, reported to me this application, and then, after expressing unwillingness to act on it until he “could have an opportunity of consulting” me, he wrote, “When will you be here? Will you either note what you think will be sufficient to meet the views of the Senate and of the country, or will you formulate such proposition?” After this responsible commission, the letter winds up with the earnest request, “Let me hear from you as soon as you can,” (the Italics are the Secretary’s,) “and I should like to confer with you at the earliest convenient time.” On my arrival at Washington, the Secretary came to my house at once, and we conferred freely. San Domingo had not yet sent its shadow into his soul.
It is easily seen that here was constant and reiterated appeal to me, especially on our negotiations with England; and yet, in the face of this testimony, where he is the unimpeachable witness, the Secretary is pleased to make Mr. Motley’s supposed relations with me the occasion of insult to him, while, as if this were not enough, he crowns his work with personal assault on me,—all of which, whether as regards Mr. Motley or me, is beyond comprehension.
How little Mr. Motley merited anything but respect and courtesy from the Secretary is attested by all who know his eminent position in London, and the service he rendered to his country. Already the London press, usually slow to praise Americans when strenuous for their country, has furnished its voluntary testimony. The “Daily News” of August 16, 1870, spoke of the insulted Minister in these terms:—
“We are violating no confidence in saying that all the hopes and promises of Mr. Motley’s official residence in England have been amply fulfilled, and that the announcement of his unexpected and unexplained recall was received with extreme astonishment and unfeigned regret. The vacancy he leaves cannot possibly be filled by a Minister more sensitive to the honor of his Government, more attentive to the interests of his country, and more capable of uniting the most rigorous performance of his public duties with the high-bred courtesy and the conciliatory tact and temper that make those duties easy and successful. Mr. Motley’s successor will find his mission wonderfully facilitated by the firmness and discretion that have presided over the conduct of American affairs in this country during too brief a term, too suddenly and unaccountably concluded.”
The London press had not the key to this extraordinary transaction. It knew not the potency of the San Domingo spell, nor its strange influence over the Secretary, even breeding insensibility to instinctive amenities, and awakening peculiar unfriendliness to Mr. Motley, so amply certified afterward in an official document under his own hand,—all of which burst forth with more than the tropical luxuriance of the much-coveted island.
I cannot disguise the sorrow with which I offer this explanation. In self-defence and for the sake of truth do I now speak. I have cultivated forbearance, and hoped from the bottom of my heart that I might do so to the end. But beyond the call of the public press has been the defiant challenge of Senators, and also the consideration sometimes presented by friends, that my silence might be misinterpreted. Tardily and most reluctantly I make this record, believing it more a duty to the Senate than to myself, but a plain duty, to be performed in all simplicity without reserve. Having nothing to conceal, and willing always to be judged by the truth, I court the fullest inquiry, and shrink from no conclusion founded on an accurate knowledge of the case.
If this narration enables any one to see in clearer light the injustice done to Mr. Motley, then have I performed a further duty too long postponed; nor will it be doubted by any honest nature, that, since the assault of the Secretary, he was entitled to that vindication which is found in a statement of facts within my own knowledge. Anything short of this would be a license to the Secretary in his new style of state-paper, which, for the sake of the public service and of good-will among men, must be required to stand alone, in the isolation which becomes its abnormal character. Plainly without precedent in the past, it must be without chance of repetition in the future.