What Mr. Perry did in this issue was wise. He told his wife. She went immediately and told the Duchess of Montpensier, who had none too great love of Louis Napoleon, “the nephew of his uncle,” and the occupant of Louis Philippe’s throne. She told her sister, the queen. The queen sent at once for Mr. Perry.
He told her what the emperor had done, and what her own ministers had done. I suppose he said, “You are injuring your best friends,—at the solicitation of this intriguer, whom you hate, and who is your worst enemy.” The queen said this was the first she had heard of the matter, and she would send for her prime minister.
So she did. And he came. And she asked him if this thing had been done. And he confessed that it had; Her Majesty had signed the order on such or such a day.
“But no one told me what it meant,” said poor Isabella. “No one told me that this was a heavy blow to my American allies.”
No. No one had told her. The minister explained that as well as he could. If Her Majesty disliked it, he was sorry, but he was too late to help it. Why too late? the queen asked. Because a steamer had gone to the West Indian fleet with the orders which changed one league to three leagues.
Then Queen Isabella spoke the words which, as I count it, were the best words of her life:—
“It is not too late for me to accept your resignations.”
And when it came to that, it proved that the Señor Don did not want to resign, and the other Señores Dons did not want to resign, and they found a fast steamer to take out orders rescinding the other orders. And so the Emperor Napoleon got a slap in his face, and so the blockade was maintained for the next year.
And so Spain scored one on her private account with the Washington government, and Isabella II. found one decent thing on the credit side when she stood at the bar of St. Peter or history.
Whoever will refer to the published state papers will find no reference to this interesting incident. It is the sort of thing they leave out in printing. But you can see that it must have taken place in the autumn of 1863, if you will read between the lines.