Mr. Bigelow to Mr. Seward

No. 153.]

Sir: The letters from the Hon. Garnier Pages, of which I have the honor to enclose copies and translations, explain themselves. Though simply an individual expression of opinion, the position which the venerable writer has occupied as one of the five executive officers under the provisional government of France in 1848, and the position which he now occupies as one of the liberal members of the Chamber of Deputies of the city of Paris, not to speak of his personal virtues and his cordial sympathy for our country and government during its recent struggles, seem to justify me in complying with his request to have his letter laid before you, which I do with his own explanation of motives addressed to myself.

I shall find an opportunity to explain to Mr. Pages that our government has not yet returned to the elementary condition in which the French republic of 1848 found itself when it abolished capital punishment; and that the United States has no more power to abolish the death penalty than he has to abolish the constitution. The fact that such an appeal should be addressed to the President of the United States by a person so intelligent and generally well informed as Mr. Pages, shows how imperfectly the mass, even of educated Europeans, comprehend what we have done and what we have not done during [Page 334] and since our great rebellion. The liberal press of Paris, without exception, I believe, shares Mr. Pages’s wishes and ignorance on this subject.

I am, sir, with great respect, your very obedient servant,

JOHN BIGELOW.

Hon. William H. Seward, Secretary of State.

[Translation.]

Mr. Pages to Mr. Bigelow

Dear Mr. Bigelow: It may seem indiscreet for any foreigner to intervene in the political acts of a nation. But I obey without being* able to define it, a sentiment which leads me to consider myself in some sort a member of the great American republic, and to associate myself with its destinies. I yield, doubtless, to that fraternal principie of common sympathy which unites all men and all peoples who have the same ideas and desire to attain the same end. I do not hesitate, therefore, to submit to you a letter dictated by my ardent desire to see the government of the United States succeed in a difficult position, and avoid the embarrassments of the legal repression which frequently transforms criminals into martyrs, and thus gives results contrary to those which are sought to be obtained.

If this letter accords with the intuitions of your government, and you think its publication would be useful, please have it presented through the Hon. Mr. Seward to your President. But as I do not desire in any manner to increase the weight of the responsibility which now rests upon the eminent man at the head of your republic, I beg that you will pass this letter by in silence if it can only clash with their policy.

Have the kindness, in any case, to present to Mr. Seward my most affectionate compliments, and tell him how happy I have been at his recovery and at your successes.

Yours, very devotedly,

GARNIER PAGES.

[Enclosure No. 4.—Translation.]

Mr. Pages to the President.

Mr. President: When the French people resumed possession of their sovereignty, the 24th of February, 1848, when they proclaimed the republic, the minister of the United States was the first representative of a friendly nation who hastened to the Hotel de Ville of Paris to convey the expression of his fraternal sympathies. The minister, Mr. Rush, and the venerable president of the provisional government, M. Dupont, (de l’Eure,) in a holy embrace, tightened the bonds of alliance of the two great republics.

That very day the French people, through the medium of their improvised representatives, proclaimed the abolition of the death penalty in political matters. This act of regeneration, which consecrated an era in the progress of humanity, excited universal transports.

From that solemn day the words “revolution and republic,” effacing the stain of bloodshed, signified “clemency and fraternity.” The revolution and the republic had broken in pieces the political scaffold.

The poignant regrets of defeat, the anguish of a troubled spirit, the corroding memory of faults committed, and, if the necessities of legal repression require it, banishment to a foreign land and the sufferings of exile, seemed a sufficient punishment, an expiation sufficiently severe.

You will, therefore, consider it as simply natural, Mr. President, and you will kindly permit us who bear in our hearts the great democratic traditions; who have never ceased to offer our ardent prayers for the triumph of the American Union, and who have so admired it since it has proclaimed the abolition of slavery; who have felt a thrill of joy in learning the end of the civil war, and of sorrow in hearing of the cruel death of President Lincoln, to come in sympathy to tell you with what lively satisfaction we should learn that the cry of human conscience which issued from the Hotel de Ville of Paris in 1848 has found its echo at the White House of Washington in 1865.

Be pleased, Mr. President, to accept, with the expression of our fraternal regard for the great American people, the assurance of our distinguished regard for yourself.

Yours, devotedly,

GARNIER PAGES.

The President of the United States.