Only a few years ago, incidentally to the public discussion of the Hay-Pauncefote Treaty, the United States was arraigned by the British press as lacking in the sense of honor that holds a nation to its promise. The “Saturday Review” could not expect “to find President Taft acting like a gentleman.” “To imagine,” it said, “that American politicians would be bound by any feeling of honor or respect for treaties, if it would pay to violate them, was to delude ourselves. The whole course of history proves this.”
The London “Morning Post” charged the United States with various infractions of the Treaty and said: “That is surely a record even in American foreign policy; but the whole treatment of this matter serves to remind us that we had a long series of similar incidents in our relations with the United States. Americans might ask themselves if it is really a good foreign policy to lower the value of their written word in such a way as to make negotiations with other powers difficult or impossible. The ultimate loss may be greater than the immediate gain. There might come a time when the United States might desire to establish a certain position by treaty, and might find her past conduct a serious difficulty in the way.” More recently, and presumably with more deliberation, a British author (Sir Harry Johnston, “Common Sense in Foreign Policy,” p. 89), says: “Treaties, in fact, only bind the United States as long as they are convenient. They are not really worth the labor they entail or the paper they are written on. It is well that this position should be realized, as it may save a great deal of fuss and disappointment in the future.”
The most remarkable chapter in the book deals with the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty. Major Bigelow shows how the British Ambassador spirited a spurious document into the files of the State Department. This spurious document has had an important bearing on the interpretation of our treaty with England affecting the Panama Canal.
Schleswig-Holstein.
Schleswig-Holstein.—The case of Schleswig-Holstein, though one of the most complicated problems for statesmen of the last century, is perfectly clear as to the vital factors involved. Some centuries ago the Duke of Schleswig-Holstein—which may be described as the original seat of the Anglo-Saxons who peopled Britain—conquered Denmark and was proclaimed King of Denmark. As Duke of Schleswig-Holstein the duchies became attached to the crown of Denmark, but were never incorporated as parts of the Danish State. The relationship was similar to that of the early Georges, who were kings of Hanover, a distinctly German State, but which was never considered belonging to Great Britain for all that.
The two German duchies were given a charter that they were “one and indivisible,” and this held good for centuries. Early in 1840, a quarrel ensued between the government of Denmark and the German duchies. King Frederick VII had no children; the succession was about to descend to the female line of the family. The duchies protested. Their charter provided distinctly for a male line of rulers, and they would maintain their rights as well as the provision guaranteeing their unity. Accordingly, they rejected (January 28, 1848) the new constitution of the government embracing every section of the monarchy and stood out for their constitutional guarantees.
Underlying these constitutional questions was the stronger racial impulse to be united with their kindred of Germany, where the desire for national unity was making itself felt in revolutionary demonstrations. The first note of discord in the German national parliament was occasioned by the Schleswig-Holstein question. In order to prevent the incorporation of the duchies in the Danish State, the communities elected a provisional government and appealed to the German parliament to be admitted into the German confederation; at the same time the provisional government appealed to the King of Prussia for aid. The same men who have been pronounced the most ardent German revolutionists of 1848 were equally ardent in their desire to rescue two sister States from being absorbed by a government of alien blood and sympathy.
The Prussian general, Wrangel, led a force into the duchies, drove out the Danes and occupied Jutland. Before any further blows were struck, Russia, England and Sweden intervened, and Prussia withdrew her troops in accordance with an armistice provision signed August 26. All public measures proclaimed by the provisional government were thereupon nullified, and a common government for the duchies was created, partly by Denmark and partly by the German Confederation, and the Schleswig troops were separated from those of Holstein.
This decision was regarded in Schleswig-Holstein as a betrayal of its cause and was never accepted by a considerable minority of theGerman parliament. In 1849 revolt in the duchies broke out afresh, and gained many adherents in Germany. A stadtholder was appointed for the duchies, and an army composed of mixed German troops was sent to support the revolutionists under command of Gen. Bonin. An attack of the Danes at Eckernfoerde was repelled, the fortifications of Duppel were taken by storm and Kolding was captured. But the Schleswig-Holstein army was beaten by the Danes in a sortie from Fredericia, and Prussia, again under pressure from Russia and England, was compelled to abandon the Schleswig-Holsteiners and sign the armistice of July 10, 1849, with Denmark.
By this agreement Schleswig was abandoned to Denmark, but not Holstein. The Schleswig-Holstein government, however, refused to recognize this treaty of peace and placed a new army in the field under General Willisen. It was defeated at Idstedt, and in conformity with the treaty of Olmutz, Holstein was occupied by Austrian and Prussian troops, while Schleswig was abandoned to the Danes, under the London protocol, which recognized Prince Christian of Glucksberg as the future king of the monarchy.