The Sun.
London, England, 1863-05-27 00:00:00

themselves the Confederate States, declared that they would
no longer be allied to these United States, but would make
themselves independent. (Hear.) They are exactly in the
position of the American colonies with regard to England
in the year 1777. (No, no.) All I ask is that you will
hear. (" What caused the separation ?") I am accus •
tomed to speak in a deliberative assembly, and the charac-
ter of that assembly is this—that I may say things which
the great majority of them dislike, but there is that cour-
tesy in that assembly that they don't interrupt. (Cheers.)
They wait till I have done, and if they think me wrong
they endeavour to answer me; but they are not discourte-
ous, and they do not interrupt me. (Cheers.) Then, I
say, returning to my argument, the Confederate States,
when they determined to secede, were in the condition of
the American colonies when they declared that they were
determined to be independent. (" Slavery I") I'll come
to that by-and-bye, but don't be in such a mighty hurry.
(Laughter.) They separated, and what was the feeling
in England ? I'll tell you what my feeling was. I know
that country. I have been there many years of my life,
and I learnt a great deal while I was there, They had
a future before them, such as no people ever had
before. They had a wonderfully fertile country, intersected
with great rivers. They began a free people. They conti-
nued a free people. They had English law, the English
language, English literature ; and they were placed in a
position such as was never occupied before. Their career
foe 80 years was one of unparalleled prosperity. But between
them there has grown up a feeling of antagonism. The
South were determined to separate; they did separate; and
men in England mourned that separation, and no one more
than myself, because I believed that if they did separate a
great check would be given to the advancement of mankind.
The North was separated from the South, and the North
began to act. And here begins the lesson I want to read to
you. I say I mourned at that separation. But the North
themselves, from the very commencement, were so cruel, so
determined on empire—(hear, hear, and no, no)—so deter-
mined on maintaining empire, that they forgot charity, they
forgot Christianity; they made themselves a spectacle to the
world of cruelty, corruption, and horror. (Cheers.) That
being the case my feelings changed, but I did expect that
the great power of the North, their wonderful resources,
would enable them to subdue the South. But the South
stood up, like the real descendants, as they are, of English •
men. (Hear.) They said, " We will vindicate to ourselves
the right to govern ourselves ; we will fight to the death for
our independence." And they have fought to the death.
(Cheers. A voice, " Slavery.") They have conquered the
North. (Cheers, and cries of "No, no.") And now I ask
myself if the time has come when surrounding nations shall
do what we ought to do now—acknowledge the South as an
independent nation. Great cheering, and cries of "Never,"
and " Slavery.") lam about to come to the question of
slavery, and I hope the gentlemen who are so anxious about
slavery will now be silent. The Northern States of Ame-
rica hate slavery; but there is one thing they hate still more,
and that is the slave. (Cheers.) Now, I know New York
well—and people are here who don't know America—and I
know this, that the black man in New York is treated as I
would not treat a dog. (Cheers.) They have declared in
their public documents their determination not merely to
conquer the South, but to root out the slave. It is not merely
to put an end to slavery; but even President Lincoln, when
he talked to these people, quietly advised them to retire
from America, "Take yourselves off." (Hear.) Now,nothing
could be cooler than that. (Hear, and laughter.) The
black man, I take it, has the feelings of a man. He is born
in that country, he has a wife and children in that country;.
and though he is treated very ill in that country—more
especially in the North—(cheers and expressions of dissent)
—more especially in the North—(hear, hear, and cheers)—
he has feelings towards that country, and he does not wish
to be banished from it. (Hear.) But President Lincoln
has very peculiar notions about slavery. He issued a pro-
clamation declaring all the slaves free in those seceded
States, and he maintained slavery where his power extended.
(Cheers.) And, therefore, I say that was not an honest
movement. My countrymen here have kind hearts, and
their hearts bleed when they think that men are slaves. I
say, can England, by allowing this horrible war to go on,
can she, as she has done, being thoroughly neutral between
the two—can she, if she can prevent it, in her own con-
science, allow these horrible atrocities to continue:? Oh, I
am met with the cry—l have heard it here—" Slavery."
But what is slavery in the South as compared with the
black man's condition in the North ? No man looks upon
slavery with greater horror than I do, and if I could bene•
fit the slaves—if I could do anything for their condition by
at once making them a free people, I should be prepared,
as far as my humble power goes, to confer liberty upon
them. (Hear.) But we did that among a smaller body of
black people in the West Indies. We paid for them, and,
as England always has behaved in such cases, we dealt
liberally, not only by the slave, but by the slaveholder.
(Hear, hear.) Can you do that in America ? You cannot.
(A voice, " Yes, you can.") Yon say we can—but you
know nothing about it. (Great laughter and cheers.) The
millions of slaves in America would swallow up all the
money in the North and in the South to buy their freedom.
You cannot do it. But the connection between the slave-
holder and the slave is not so painful as many may imagine.
They are kindly treated. I know they are not treated as I
should like t ) be treated, because I am a free man. I
have been brought up in freedom, I have fought for
my own livelihood—they have not. They like their
coadition then, to this extent,—that when they become old
they are not called upon to maintain themselves, and the
slaveholder treats them—unfortunately, I must use the
phrase—as I should treat my horse. (Oh, oh, and hear,
hear.) I never overwork him if lam a wise man. I lament
that any human being should be in that condition, but they
are in that condition—and, as statesmen, what are we to do ?
I fear that for many years to cons slavery must exist. You
cannot get rid of it on a sudden. Time, patience, and the
education of the black man, all must go hand in hand, and
it will be the result of time, of education, of patience,which
will drag them out of the condition in which they now are.
(Hear, hear.) Now, I hate slavery as much as any man.
Were any man to attempt to make me a slave I would fight
him. (Loud cheers.) I am not a very strong man, but
luckily the battle is not always to the strong, as we have
seen between the North and South. (Hear, hear.) Well,
then, have things come to the condition that England is
called upon to act ? She has been throughout entirely neu-
tral, and what has been the result ? Language has been
used to her, not merely by the people, but by the Govern-
ment of America, insulting beyond description; and at
last they have come to say, when describing themselves,
" We are reduced to that condition that even England can
bully us." I want to know how they have been brought
into that condition ? By themselves. (Hear, hear.) Any-
thing more ruthless never was heard of in man's history.
I met a gentleman the other day, he was a native of one of
the seceded States, who told me that the Federal army had
come over his property and burnt down his house—they
didn't leave one stone upon the other; they took away his
them to their own wives. (" Hear," and a voice, " Eng-
furniture, they stole his wife's garments, and they sent
Eng-
land's done it many a time.") More shame for us, that is
all I can say. (Hear.) These things are going on from
day to day. Every n, all brings an account of horrors such
as Napoleon himself never perpetrated. (" Hear," and a
voice, " They haven't blown them from a cannon.")
We did that in India, and I don't think we did very
well. Now, it is all very fine for Englishmen to turn
up their eyes, and pretend to be so wonderfully good.
(Laughter.) I want to know when the Peace Party opposed
the annexation of Oude. I want to know when the Peace
Party opposed those other annexations in India. I want to
know whether the Punjab and Scinde have not all been
acquired by force of arms ; and were we not very much '
astonished to see the perfect quietude of the Peace Party
upon those occasions ? (" Hear, hear" and laughter.) Now,
I am very much inclined to believe that, though the poor
working man inLancashire has suffered dreadfully from the
cotton famine, the masters in Manchester have not suffered
to the same extent. (Hear, hear.) I can very easily under-
stand that when a man is happy, when he is making money
easily, and enjoying all the fruits of the earth in consequence
of this war—l say I can understand his objection to anything
being done to put an end to it. But, while I feel for the
working men of Lancashire, I feel for the sufferings of the
people of Arne/ice, and I want to put an end to this war. I
say to England, " It you now step in and declare boldly
what you think to be requisite—namely, that the Southern
States should be at once acknowledged as an independent
nation." (Cheting, and cries of " No, no," and a voice with
great emphasis, " Never.") A working man who w
as stand-
ing near the steps became obstreperous, and was ignomini-
ously expelled by the police. (Mr. Roebuck continued)
I am told that if we acknowledge the South we shall go to
war with the North. I say I do not believe it. I say there
is no person. no body of men, who so much desire England's
interference in that war as the Northern States themselves.
(Hear, hear.) I may state that very remarkable thing. We
looked upon a war with America with horror because it
would bring about a cotton famine. Well, we have no war
with America ; but we have a cotton famine. The most curi-
ous thing is this. If we had war with America, we should at
once put an end to the cotton famine. Now, that is a very
peculiar circumstance. The South would then be an inde-
pendent people; we should break the blockade at once—
(hear, hear)—and we should have cotton in Manchester. (A
stentorian voice.—" We can't.") But we should. (Cheers.)
(Mr. S. Jackson—" We should have a civil war in Eng-
land ;" and interruption.) I want my arguments to be
answered, not abuse. By our present proceedings not only
have we alienated the North, but we shall alienate the South.
France will step in, as she did in 1778. She will conciliate
the Southern States of America, and we shall lose friends
on both sides. ("How do you know this ? We shall do
right, and they will do wrong.") I do not pretend to judge
my neighbour. I hope that lam a charitable man. Ido
not call men who happen to differ from me rogues— I think
them very honest people ; I think them mistaken, because
of course every man believes himself to be right, but I pay
them every possible deference. lam willing honestly to
listen to them—patiently, courteously; I don't desire to in-
terrupt them. Now, that is the position in which we stand.
(Interruption.) You are so wonderfully impressed with the
miseries of the slave that you care nothing about my misery.
(Laughter and cheers.) Well, then, what is the reason why
we should not do it ? First, they say, England ought not to
help slavery. I say so, too • but we should not help slavery
by acknowledging the South. (" Hear," and "No.")
Don't interrupt me.
(" Turn him out," and a voice, "Don't
laugh so much, Mr. Clegg.") I am sure Mr. Clegg has not
interrupted me, ("He's only an agitator.") Now, I have