Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 66, No 409, November 1849

We do not, however, think it necessary to enter into any elaborate exposition of the idleness of the peace movement. So long as the gentlemen who have gratuitously constituted themselves a congress exhibit so much common sense as to retain the semblance of consistency, we should hardly feel ourselves called upon to interfere in any way with their arrangements. We should be the last people in the world to grudge to Mr Ewart, or any other senator of such limited calibre, the little notoriety which he may chance to pick up by figuring in Paris as a champion of pacific fraternity. The paths towards the Temple of Fame are many and devious; and if a man feels himself utterly wanting in that intellectual strength which is necessary for attaining the summit by the legitimate and beaten road, he is certainly entitled to clamber up to any odd pinnacle from which he can make himself, for a moment, the object of observation. In minor theatres, it is not uncommon to find a broken-down tragedian attempting to achieve some popularity in a humble line, by jumping as Harlequin through a clock, or distorting his ochre-coated visage by grinning magnanimously as the clown. To such feats no fair exception can be taken; and we doubt not that a roar of laughter, proceeding from the throats of the most ignorant assemblage of numskulls, is as grateful to the ears of the performer as would be the applause of the most enlightened and fastidious audience. We believe that, in the case of the Congress, audience and orators were extremely well suited to the capacity of each other. The people of Paris, who drank in the rolling periods of the pacificators, were exceedingly amused with the exhibition; and testified their delight, by greeting the reproduction of the farce, in the shape of a Vaudeville at the Théâtre des Variétés, with unextinguishable shouts of laughter!

Neither shall we make any comment upon the singularity of the time selected for these demonstrations. The members of the Congress expressly set forth, that it was their desire to impress upon the governments of Europe the folly of maintaining large establishments, and we presume that they entertained some reasonable hope that their remonstrances might at least be heard. We need scarcely point out to our readers the eminent fitness of the present juncture for carrying these views into effect. We have great faith in the extent and power of human idiocy, but we hardly supposed that any body of men could have been congregated, possessed of so much collective imbecility as to conceive that this was a proper moment for securing the conviction, or enlisting the sympathies of any government in their scheme. We are, however, forced to conclude, that a good many of them are sincere; and, believing this, our regard for their honesty rises in a corresponding ratio with the decline of our respect for the measure of their intellects. It would probably be unjust and wrong to confound some of these simple souls with men of the stamp of their new ally, who use their association merely as a means for the promulgation of part of their political opinions, but who, in reality, are so far from being the friends of peace, that they seem bent upon using their utmost efforts to involve the whole of Europe in a new and desolating war. While, therefore, we drop for the present any further notice of the proceedings of the Peace Congress, we feel it our imperative duty to trace the steps of Mr Cobden since, arrayed in sheep's clothing, he chose to make his appearance in the midst of that innocent assembly.

Whatever sympathy may have been shown in certain quarters towards the Italian insurgents, that feeling has been materially lessened by the awful spectacles afforded by insurgent rule. We are, in this country, a great deal too apt to be carried into extravagance by our abstract regard for constitutional freedom. We forget that our own system has been the gradual work of ages; that the enlightenment and education of the people has invariably preceded every measure of substantial reform; and that it is quite possible that other nations may not be fitted to receive like institutions, or to work out the social problem, without more than British restraint. Arbitrary government, being quite foreign to our own notions, is invariably regarded by us with dislike; and our decided impulse, on the appearance of each new insurrection, is to attribute the whole of the blame to the inflexibility of the sovereign power. So long as this feeling is merely confined to expression of opinion at home, it is comparatively, though not altogether, harmless. Undue weight is attached abroad to the articles of the press, enunciated with perfect freedom, but certainly not always expressing the sense of the community; and foreign statesmen, unable to appreciate this license, have ere now taken umbrage at diatribes, which, could the matter be investigated, would be found to proceed from exceedingly humble sources. So long, however, as our government professed and acted upon the principles of non-interference, there was little likelihood of our being embroiled in disputes with which we had no concern, simply on account of liberal meetings, tavern speeches, or hebdomadal objurgations of despotism.

The real danger commenced when a government, calling itself liberal, began to interfere, most unjustifiably and most unwisely, with the concerns of its neighbours. Powerless to do good at home, the Whigs have ever shown themselves most ready to do mischief abroad; and probably, in the whole history of British diplomacy, there stands recorded no transaction more deplorable, from first to last, than the part which Lord Palmerston has taken in the late Italian movements. It is the fashion to laud the present Foreign Secretary as a man of consummate ability; nor is it possible to deny that, so far as speech-making is concerned, he certainly surpasses his colleagues. We were almost inclined to go farther, and admit that no one could equal him in dexterity of reading official documents, so as to mystify and distort their meaning; but were we to assign him pre-eminence in this department, we should do signal injustice to Earl Grey, who unquestionably stands unrivalled in the art of coopering a despatch. Ability Lord Palmerston certainly has, but we deny that he has shown it in his late Italian negotiations. Restless activity is not a proof of diplomatic talent, any more than an appetite for intrigue, or a perverse obstinacy of purpose. Men of the above temperament have, in all ages, been held incompetent for the duties of so delicate and difficult a station as that of minister of foreign affairs; and yet who will deny that the whole course of our recent diplomatic relations with the south of Europe, has been marked by an unusual display of restlessness, obstinacy, and intrigue? Public men must submit to have their labours judged of by their fruits; it is the penalty attached to their high office, and most righteously so, since the destinies of nations are committed to their hands. Lord Palmerston may possibly have thought that, by dictating to the governments of Italy the nature of the relations which, in his opinion, ought to subsist between them and their subjects, he was consulting the honour and advantage of England, fulfilling his duty to the utmost, and providing for the maintenance of the public tranquillity of Europe. We say it is possible that such was his thought and intention; but, if so, surely never yet did a man, possessing more than common ability, resort to such extraordinary means, or employ such incapable agents. Of all the men who could have been selected for such a service, Lord Minto was incalculably the worst. We have nothing whatever to say against that nobleman in his private capacity; but, throughout his whole public, we cannot say useful, career, he has never, on one occasion, exhibited a spark even of ordinary talent, and it is more than questioned by many, whether his intelligence rises to the ordinary level. Through accident and connexion he has been thrust into state employment, and has never rendered himself otherwise remarkable than for a most egregious partiality for those of his family, kindred, and name. And yet this was the accredited agent sent out by Lord Palmerston to expound the intentions and views of Great Britain, not only to the sovereigns of Italy, but also to their revolted subjects.

We say nothing of the diplomatic employment of such a representative as Mr Abercromby, at the court of Turin. The correspondence contained in the Blue Books laid before parliament, shows how singularly ignorant that minister was of the real posture of affairs in Italy; how eagerly he caught at every insinuation which was thrown out against the good faith and pacific policy of Austria; and how completely he was made the tool and the dupe of the revolutionary party. It is enough to note the fruits of the Palmerstonian policy, which have been, so far as we are concerned, the utter annihilation of all respect for the British name in Italy, insurrections, wild and wasting civil war, and, finally, the occupation of Rome by the French. Whatever may be thought of the prudence of this latter move, or whatever may be its remote consequences, this at least is certain, that, but for Oudinot and his army, the Eternal City would have been given up as a prey to the vilest congregation of ruffians that ever profaned the name of liberty by inscribing it on their blood-stained banners. To associate the cause of such men with that of legitimate freedom is an utter perversion of terms; and those who have been rash enough to do so must stand convicted, before the world, of complete ignorance of their subject. No pen, we believe, could adequately describe the atrocities which were perpetrated in Rome, from the day when Count Rossi fell by the poniard of the assassin, on the steps of the Quirinal palace, down to that on which the gates were opened for the admittance of the besieging army. Not the least of Popish miracles was the escape of Pius himself, who beheld his secretary slain, and his bodyguard butchered by his side. Of these things modern liberalism takes little note: it hears not the blood of innocent and unoffending priests cry out for vengeance from the pavement; it makes no account of pillage and spoliation, of ransacked convent, or of harried home. It proclaims its sympathy aloud with the robber and the bravo, and is not ashamed to throw the veil of patriotism over the enormities of the brigand Garibaldi!

When, therefore, not only a considerable portion of the press of this country, but the government itself, is found espousing the cause of revolution in the south of Europe, we need not be surprised if other governments, at a period of so much danger and insecurity, regard Great Britain as a renegade to the cause of order. Our position at present is, in reality, one of great difficulty, and such as ought to make us extremely cautious of indulging in unnecessary bravado. The state of our financial affairs is anything but encouraging. We are answerable for a larger debt than any other nation of the world; and our economists are so sensible of the weight of our burdens, that they would fain persuade us to denude ourselves even of the ordinary means of defence. Our foreign exports are stationary; our imports immensely increasing; our home market reduced, for the present, to a state of terrible prostration. Free trade, by destroying the value of agricultural produce, has almost extinguished our last hope of restoring tranquillity to Ireland, and of raising that unhappy country to the level of the sister kingdoms. It is in vain that we have crippled ourselves to stay the recurring famine of years, since our statesmen are leagued with famine, and resolute to persevere in their iniquity. The old hatred of the Celt to the Saxon is still burning in the bosoms of a large proportion of the misguided population of Ireland; and were any opportunity afforded, it would break forth as violently as ever. So that, even within the girdle of the four seas, we are not exactly in that situation which might justify our provoking unnecessary hostility from abroad. So far we are entirely at one with the Peace Congress. When we look to the state of our colonies, the prospect is not more encouraging. Through Whig misrule, our tenure of the Canadas has become exceedingly precarious. The West Indies are writhing in ruin; and even the inhabitants of the Cape are rampant, from the duplicity of the Colonial Office. Our interest is most clearly and obviously identified with the cause of order; for, were Britain once actively engaged in a general war, it is possible that the presence of her forces would be required in more than a single point. Of the final result, in the event of such a calamity, we have no doubt, but not the less, on that account, should we deeply deplore the struggle.

Such being our sentiments, it is with considerable pain that we feel ourselves called upon to notice as strong an instance of charlatanism and presumption as was ever exhibited in this country. Fortunately, on this occasion, the offender has gone so far that no one can be blind to his delinquencies; for, if there be any truth in the abstract principles of the Peace Association, their last disciple has disowned them; if the doctrines of free trade were intended to have universal application, Richard Cobden, in the face of the universe, has entered his protest against them. It signifies very little to us, and less to the powers against whom he has thundered his anathemas, what Mr Cobden thinks proper either to profess or repudiate; still, as he has been pleased to attempt the performance of the part of Guy Fawkes, we judge it necessary to conduct him from the coal-cellar, and to throw the light of the lantern upon his visage, and that of his accomplices. And, first, a word or two as to the occasion of his last appearance.

The recent Hungarian rising is by no means to be classed in the same category with the wretched Italian insurrections. Much as it is to be deplored that any misunderstanding should have arisen between the Austrian cabinet and the Hungarian Diet, so serious as to have occasioned a war; we look upon the latter body as uninfluenced by those wild democratic notions which have been and are still prevalent in the west of Europe. Whatever may have been the case with Kossuth, and some of his more ambitious confederates, the mass of the Hungarian people had no wish whatever to rise in rebellion against their king. Their quarrel was that of a minor state to which certain privileges had been guaranteed; against the presumed infringement of which, by their more powerful neighbour, they first protested, and finally had recourse to arms. Their avowed object, throughout the earlier part of the struggle, was not to overturn, but to maintain, certain existing institutions: and it is remarkable that, from the day on which Kossuth threw off the mask, and renounced allegiance to his sovereign, the Hungarians lost confidence in their leader, and their former energy decayed. We need not now discuss the abstract justice of the Hungarian claims; but whatever may be thought of these, we must, in common fairness to Austria, consider her peculiar position at the time when they were sought to be enforced. Concessions which, during a season of tranquillity, might have been gracefully made, were rendered almost impossible when demanded with threats, in the midst of insurrection and revolt. It was but too obvious that the leaders of the Hungarian movement, forgetful of their fealty to the chief of that great empire of which their country formed a part, were bent upon increasing instead of lessening the difficulties with which Austria was everywhere surrounded, and eager to avail themselves of distractions elsewhere, for the purpose of dictating insolent and exorbitant terms. In short, we believe that the real claims of Hungary, however they may have formed the foundation of the discontent which ripened into war, were used by Kossuth and his colleagues as instruments for their own ambition; and that, by throwing off the mask too precipitately, they opened the eyes of their followers to the true nature of their designs, and forfeited that support which the realm was ready to accord the men who, with a single and patriotic purpose, demanded nothing more than the recognition of the rights of their country.

It was but natural that the intervention of Russia should have been viewed with some uneasiness in the west of Europe. Every movement of that colossal power beyond the boundaries of its own territory excites a feeling of jealousy, singularly disproportionate to the real character of its resources, if Mr Cobden's estimate of these should be adopted as the true one; and we fairly confess that we have no desire to see any considerable augmentation made to the territorial possessions of the Czar. But the assistance which, on this occasion, has been sent to Austria by Russia, however much we may regret the occasion which called the latter into activity, cannot surely be tortured into any aggressive design. Apart from all our jealousies, it was a magnanimous movement on the part of one powerful sovereign in favour of a harassed ally; nor can we see how that assistance could have been refused by Russia, without incurring the reproach of bad faith, and running imminent risk with regard to her own dependencies. Those active revolutionists, the Poles, whose presence behind every barricade has been conspicuously marked and unblushingly avowed, showed themselves foremost in all the disturbances which threatened the dismemberment of Austria. By them the Hungarian army was principally officered; and it now appears, from the intercepted correspondence of their nominal chief, that the Hungarian insurrection was relied upon as the first step for a fresh attempt towards the restoration of a Polish kingdom. Under these circumstances, the Czar felt himself imperatively called upon to act; and his honour has been amply vindicated by the withdrawal of his forces after his mission was accomplished, and the Hungarian insurrection quelled.

It would undoubtedly have been far more satisfactory to every one, if the differences between Austria and Hungary could have been settled without an appeal to arms; but such a settlement was, we apprehend, utterly beyond the powers even of the Peace Congress to effect; and the next best thing is to know that tranquillity has actually been restored. That a great deal of sympathy should be shown for the Hungarians, is, under the circumstances, by no means unnatural. It is no exaggeration to say, that hardly one man out of a thousand, in Britain, comprehends the merits of the dispute, or is able, if called upon, to give an intelligible account of the quarrel. Such amount of knowledge, however, is by no means necessary to qualify a platform orator for holding forth at a moment's notice; and, accordingly, meetings expressive of sympathy with the persecuted Hungarians were called in many of our larger towns, and the usual amount of rhodomontade uttered, by gentlemen who make a point of exhibiting their elocutionary powers upon the slightest colourable pretence. Had these meetings been held earlier, they might have been worth something. We shall not go the length of assuring the very shallow and conceited personages who constitute the oratorical rump, or public debating society of Edinburgh, that their opinions are likely to be esteemed of surpassing importance, even if they were to be heard of so far as St Petersburg or Vienna; for their utter ignorance of the aspect of foreign affairs is such as would excite ridicule in the bosoms of those whom they profess to patronise and applaud. But if they really were impressed with the notion that the claims of Hungary were of such mighty importance, how was it that they tarried until the consideration of all constitutional questions had been swallowed up in war – until those who fully understood the true position of Hungary, and her rights as legally guaranteed and defined, were forced to acknowledge that, through the violence, treachery, and ambition of the insurgent nobles, all hope of a pacific settlement had disappeared; and that the best result which Europe could hope for, was the speedy quenching of an insurrection, now broadly revolutionary and republican, and threatening to spread still wider the devastating flames of anarchy? The explanation we believe to be a very simple one. Most of them knew as much of the affairs of Cappadocia as they did of those of Hungary, and they would have been equally ready to spout in favour of either country.

Late in July, Mr Bernal Osborne, backed by Mr R. M. Milnes, whose knowledge of politics is about equal to his skill in the construction of dactyls, brought forward the Hungarian question in the House of Commons, and thereby gave Lord Palmerston an opportunity of unbosoming himself on that branch of our European relations. His lordship's speech, on that occasion, was very much lauded at the time; but on referring to it now, we are somewhat at a loss to understand how it could have given satisfaction to any one. It was, indeed, as insulting to Austria, whose back was then supposed to be at the wall, as any opponent of constitutional government could have desired. Alliance was sneered at, as a mere empty word of no significance whatever: nor can we much wonder at this ebullition, considering the manner in which his lordship has thought proper to deal with other powers, who attached some value to the term. This topic was, further, a congenial one, inasmuch as it afforded the Foreign Secretary an opportunity of gibing at his predecessor, Lord Aberdeen, whose sense of honour does not permit him to identify the solemn treaties of nations with folios of waste paper; and who, therefore, was held up to ridicule as a pattern of "antiquated imbecility." But, after all this persiflage, which could serve no purpose whatever, save that of giving vent to an unusual secretion of Palmerstonian bile, it appeared that his lordship was actually to do nothing at all. He regretted, just as much as we do, and probably not more than the Austrian cabinet, that no accommodation of differences had taken place. He said, very truly, that whatever the result of the struggle might be, it could not strengthen the stability of the Austrian empire; but at the same time he distinctly repudiated all intention of interfering beyond mere passive advice, and he could not deny the right of Austria, if it thought proper, to call in the aid of the Russian arms. His conclusion, in short, was sound, and we only regret that, while it was so, the tone and temper of his speech were not equally judicious. This debate in the House of Commons was immediately followed up by a public meeting at the London Tavern, presided over by Mr Alderman Salomons.

We had not the good fortune to be present on that occasion; but, from the accounts contained in the morning papers, it must have been an assemblage of a singularly motley kind. There was a considerable muster of Radical members of parliament; the Financial Reform and the Peace Associations were respectively represented; Lord Nugent and Mr Milnes stood forth as delegates from the Bards of Britain; Julian Harney and Mr G. W. M. Reynolds headed a numerous band of Chartists; and Lord Dudley Stuart, as a matter of course, was surrounded by a whiskered phalanx of Poles, Hungarians, Italians, Germans, and Sicilians, each one striving to look more patriotically ferocious than his neighbour. The first sympathetic resolution was moved by a Quaker, and seconded by no less a person than Richard Cobden, who had only been prevented from attending the previous debate in the House of Commons by a swan-hopping expedition on the Thames.

Then it was that Mr Cobden first favoured the world with some economical views, so exceedingly novel and startling, as to excite, even in that audience, unequivocal symptoms of incredulity. He set out by laying it down as a general rule, that every separate state ought to be left to the management of its own affairs, without the interference of any foreign power whatever. "If," said he, "this had been a question simply between Hungary and Austria, I should not have appeared here to-day, nor indeed would it have been necessary for any of us to have appeared here to-day. So long as the Hungarians were left to settle their affairs with the government of Vienna, they were perfectly competent to do it, without the interference of the citizens of London." This is intelligible enough. So long as central governments are merely fighting with their own dependencies, there is no room at all, according to Mr Cobden, for interference. It matters not which side prevails: they must be left wholly to themselves. This doctrine could not, we think, have been very acceptable to the Poles; since it amounts to an entire admission that Russia has a right to deal with them at her pleasure; neither is it altogether consistent with our ideas, or interpretation of the law of nations. But it is Cobden's view, and therefore let it pass, to him, then, it mattered nothing whether Goth or Hun prevailed – it was the intervention of Russia that peremptorily called him to the platform. Now we must own, that we cannot understand this sort of reasoning, though it may possibly be suited to the capacities of a Manchester audience. If, as many people no doubt conscientiously believe, Austria was trampling upon the liberties of a brave and loyal people, not only justice, but humanity demands that our sympathies should be enlisted on their side. We cannot acquiesce in a doctrine which would have left the Greeks (lamentably small sense as they have shown of the benefits of liberty) to toil on for ever under the grievous yoke of the Ottoman: nor are we prepared to carry our apathy to so extreme a length. The intervention of Russia could not, by any possibility, alter the complexion of the quarrel. It might either crush freedom, or maintain constitutional government and the balance of power in Europe; but the principle of the contest, whatever that might be, was declared before Russia appeared, and according as men view it, so should their sympathies be given. The whole question, however, as Mr Cobden put the case, turned upon Russian interference.