Papers Relating to Foreign Affairs, Accompanying the Annual Message of the President to the Second Session of the Fortieth Congress
Mr. Adams to Mr. Seward
Sir: In connection with your despatch No. 2032, in regard to the case of Colonel John Warren, I have the honor to transmit a Dublin newspaper containing what purports to be two letters written by him from Kilmainham jail. Colonel Warren has not yet established proof of his naturalization; but, relying on his own affirmation of the fact, the necessary representation has nevertheless been made on his behalf. It is much to be regretted that, by an act of this kind, done in contempt and without the knowledge of the authorities, he makes it still more difficult for us to serve him successfully. It is quite apparent to me, that one great object of these parties is to attempt to excite public feeling in America so far as to force the two governments into a conflict on the questions thus raised by them on their arrest and imprisonment. Whatever may be the sympathy of our fellow-citizens with Irelaud, it can scarcely be so great as to induce them to fall into such a trap with their eyes open. I have reason to believe that the continuance of the detention of most of the persons now held in prison is owing to the distrust created by the gathering of more or less of the suspected class from America in Liverpool, and other places, as if they were still meditating plans of insurrection. The government is generally so well informed in America about these movements, that it rarely acts without a strong basis of presumption to sustain it. I shall persevere in my efforts to be of use to all citizens of the United States, and especially to those who may suffer unjustly from this arbitrary system; but our own indignation is too fresh yet in America against people from here who yielded assistance to our insurgents, for me to entertain great sympathy with similar attacks made from our side against the public peace of this kingdom.
I have the honor to be, sir, your obedient servant,
Hon. William H. Seward, Secretary of State, Washington, D. C
A voice from the dungeon.—A question for the American people.
The following important and able document having reached our hands, we lose no time in laying it before the public, whose attention it fully merits. We trust our numerous American exchanges will insure for it in the United States a circulation that will bring it home to the consideration of the people to whom it is more particularly addressed, and whose interests and honor are deeply involved in the question which it propounds and argues in so masterly a manner. The principle involved in the case of Colonel Warren is one that the American government is bound to look to, if it does not mean to forfeit its duties towards its adopted citizens and lower its character in the eyes of the world.
Kilmainham Prison, Dublin, Ireland, August, 1867.
To the Irishmen in the United States:
Fellow-Countrymen: In calling your attention to my case, I do it not on personal grounds. My case is your case. Business or pleasure-may any day bring you here, and it is well you should know positively if you are still subjects of her Britannic Majesty, amenable to her laws, or if citizens of the United States and entitled to her full protection. While in my adopted country my highest ambition was to obey and protect her laws, never dreaming nor, in fact, acknowledging that it was obligatory on me to regard or respect any English law, whose allegiance I indignantly renounced at my first opportunity. Was there an effort for freedom the world over—a spark, a gleam—every American freeman sympathized with it; and when the infant Cretan rose against the powerful Turk, America, true to her republican doctrines and right of self-government, was the first to sympathize; and when lately [Page 134] the accumulated wrongs of poor Ireland tortured her into a premature outbreak, the Catos and Ciceros of the American House of Representatives nobly avowed their appreciation of the gallant movement. Under such an influence, such an inspiration, how can the Irishman whose political ideas are moulded in America, independently to his love of native country, do otherwise than sympathize with Ireland ? And I do hold it is the duty of America to immediately protect any citizen whose liberty is assailed for giving expression to opinions in America favorable to the spread of republicanism and self-government. From the forum, press, and council chamber comes forth the spirit of freedom; we imbibe it; it is contagious. The American Constitution is the teacher—the minister; we are only a portion of the congregation. If our opinions and aspirations in favor of freedom are wrong, the teacher is wrong. If we are to be imprisoned, without appeal, for expressing and promulgating these teachings, why, the teachers should be locked up in Fortress Monroe, to prevent the spread of a heresy and a pernicious doctrine—all provided that no foreign law is violated.
This, my fellow-countrymen, is my position. ‘Tis true I sympathize with all who aspire to self-government. It is also true that I have violated no English law, and it is doubly true that if circumstances could prove that I conspired against British dominion, on British soil, or were I found in arms fighting for freedom, no word of mine would be used to save me from the gibbet. But here, prompted by the dictates of a God-inspired love of my old home, to revisit old and dear scenes, full of hope, ambition, confiding—proud to meet my old companions as a modern Roman, a freeman, an American citizen—I neared these old loved scenes and companions and relations, when, without any cause, I am arrested, and cast into a dungeon, and for more than two months am treated as an ordinary prisoner, reduced to the equal of the murderer and robber, in solitude and silence. Unaccountable are the ways of the Lord, and great is the fall, and blighted the hopes, from the proud position of the modern Roman, and love’s heartful hope of an immediate meeting with the old friends, to the position of an ironed felon and a dungeon; but conscious of never having willingly injured any one, in peace with my God, I will bear it as becomes an Irishman and a Christian. I have said my case was yours. In proof, on your arrival here you may be supplied with a passport, and consider yourself perfectly safe; but be careful—you may have brought an Irish bond, or, in your exuberance and excitement of the moment, you may have thrown hat at a meeting where some head-centre was belaboring John Bull, or you may have looked at No. 19 Chatham street, or 169 Broadway, as you went by; this is quite possible. Well, you arrive; you wear a good coat and a villainous moustache, and you have acquired a habit of standing erect and dashing ahead, swinging your hand, and, your republican barbarism, if you meet a lord you don’t take your hat off; you look him right in the face; you don’t get nervous; in fact, you care as little about him as about a common man. You wear the murdering square-toes, (the man who introduced that fashion has bagged more Americans than Corydon ever will;) all go to prove that your education is dangerous; that you don’t worship monarchy; that you’re a republican—a freeman. You’re pounced on; you get indignant; what right have the mercenaries of England to interfere with you, an American citizen ? But now you have spoiled it. If you had kept your mouth shut you might have had some chance. A little of the brogue is left; you are an Irishman; your goose is cooked. Well, you wax warm; you shake Andy Johnson at them; you tell them you will have him to send to Connecticut, the land of wooden hams and nutmegs, and get a big wooden spoon made, and come over here and spoon the G—d d—n kingdom into the Atlantic. Bluster away, old fellow, ‘tis no use. On go the darbies, and such a sight! Why, tear-an-ouns, your mother would not know you, now, man; for there are soldiers, and policeman, and lancers, and governors, and deputies, and detectives, and crown prosecutors, and turnkeys—such a sight ! It beats Finnigan’s ball out and out. Forward ! On you go, en route for Dublin, and the only bright spot in the whole scene are the maledictions cast by the old women on the peelers as you go along, with an occasional old shoe or a stone thrown at their heads, and the prayers of the said old women for you. You get to Dublin; the darbies are taken off; you are in your cell; God’s light just peeps in through a small, heavily-grated window. Place your back to the wall, and if you feel like hitting out, a la Heenan, you can strike the wall at the other side. Sit down and meditate. Are you not in a tight place, Mr. Jonathan? There you are, though; you can apply to the United States consul; you have your passports; he will attend to your case. If you did not have this, you have to wait till the next mail was going to America. Write for your naturalization papers; Write to this dignitary; he comes when he gets ready, and calls at the castle in your case when it is convenient. But wake from your revery—‘tis 9 a. m. There is a noise at your door; a little door is pushed one side, when, for consolation, a gruff voice summons you to appear and pick up, Mr. Republican, your breakfast, a dipper of stirabout; but never mind this; there are hundreds of good men in Ireland who are not sure of this same. Now sit down and eat. Don’t you feel lonesome for your cocktail? Ten o’clock. The bell rings; stand in your door and fall in four paces from each other with the crowd, who are to be exercised in the bull-ring. The bull-ring is a closely-confined yard, and the only difference between exercising or ox driving and the exercise, or American-citizen driving, is, that the ox is a quadruped, or four-footed animal, and is driven at the point of a stick, while you are a biped, or two-footed animal, and are driven at the point of the bayonet, and with loaded revolvers in the hands of soldiers and prison officials. Walk on, old fellow, keep bobbing around; you must not stop to speak or [Page 135] look at any one for two mortal hours. Twelve o’clock. You are relieved in the bull-ring, and return to your cell. Here you amuse yourself, which can be profitably and concisely done, (the prospects and scenery are all within 8 by 10 feet,) till 3 o’clock, when your small door is again opened, and your dinner—a junk of bread and a can of milk—is pushed in to you. Your memory immediately ruminates, and you think of Delmonico, Legett, Crook, and in your magnanimity you even think of the coffee and cake man. Keep up your spirits. Four o’clock. Your door is again opened and a powerful gaslight is lit, which burns, by the doctor’s orders, all night for the good of your eyes, and, if the nimble-hopping enemy attack you, to get at him with your eyes open. Five o’clock. You stand at your door to be inspected by the governor and some of the officers of the garrison, after which you are shut up for the night. This is a good time to meditate. Just think of your coming home from business and meeting’ a happy family. Think of your hot flapjacks, your doughnuts and chops. Oh, don’t; ‘tis murder ! But think of vengeance, retribution ! your God ! Such, my countrymen, is the position into which any American is liable to be thrown if he visits England, Ireland, or Scotland. There is nothing to prevent his arrest: nothing to prevent a Massey or a Cory don to swear he saw him at a public meeting in America, saw an Irish bond hanging up behind his counter, or saw a name to correspond with his published through the press as having spoken or written in favor of republicanism. In some cases proof may be easily obtained, and the party released. In others it may take a month, two, or three; but the very idea of the myrmidons of England being permitted, for one moment, to touch an American citizen and imprison him for presumed acts done in America, should rouse the indignation of every American citizen, and demand that England should be made immediately and significantly to understand that no American citizen is amenable to her laws for acts committed within the jurisdiction of the United States. If England pointedly understood this, she would never attempt to prosecute American citizens as she does. Why, it is only a few days ago since an American from Nashville, Tennessee, a man who actually did not know General O’Neill, who lives there, was arrested in London and confined in Kilmainham for a month, subjected to the treatment above described, because he looked like Colonel W. R. Roberts. If England were to know this she would not hold me an hour in custody. It is possible I may be released by the interposition of my government in some time; but where is my redress for my sufferings and probable loss of health, and the loss and suffering of my family by my being unable to provide for them, and greater still, for the indignity, the insult, the national wrong, the defiance offered to our common country every day by the arrest of her citizens, both native and adopted ? Your bed, Mr. Republican, is democratic enough. It is a piece of canvas nailed on to two flat pieces of board, just big enough to get into. The covering has done its turn well, and has in its day enveloped the murderer, the robber, and the pickpocket without being sufficiently abused with soap to change its plumage. Sleep, sleep. But you are uneasy. You kick at imaginary something; you again think of home, mother, wife, and children. But compose yourself; you have one inseparable luxury which the miscreant informer cannot take from you, and which he, wretch, never will possess—a clear conscience. Sleep, sleep, and dream of home. Five o’clock. The bell rings; get up. The scriptural phrase, “Take up thy bed and walk,*’ won’t apply, but “make up your bed and sling” it up to the wall. The next order is “Take arms,” shoulder, and present yourself at your door, chamber ornament in hand; next, “march” by the closet to the wash-room, where stalls are built for the American animals, but, by a recent magnanimous act of Parliament, they have dispensed with putting the halters on. “Wash—driven, as a matter of course; don’t look or speak to any of the other animals; return to your cell; and thus ends one day and begins another in Kilmainham. Let us see what the United States consul is doing in your case in the mean time. ‘Tis 3 o’clock. He is after his dinner and feels well. He walks forth as proud as a peacock. He knows he is admired; the people love him because he is a represontative of freedom. He walks to the castle; even here he must be respected. In the course of conversation with some of the officials on the result of a game of billiards they had the night before, it incidentally occurs to him he may as well inquire into your case. “What progress ?” he inquires. He is told those congenial assistants of the Crown, Messrs. Massey and Corydon, are at present engaged in another part of the country in pursuit of their profession, and would not be able to come to Dublin for some weeks yet. He calls again and again, gets no satisfaction, and, after months, refers that case to the minister in London. Let us look in there and see what are the prospects. There is Mr. Adams himself, as stiff and starch as a lord. He is sitting at his desk, and in turning a lot of papers yours (you’re lucky) fortunately turns up. He reads, turns to a clerk and instructs him to write to the castle in Dublin for a copy of documents and papers connected with your arrest. He receives an answer that they will be furnished at the earliest opportunity. He is satisfied. Diplomacy ! And thus it is, Mr. Republican, between the diplomacy and the red-tapeism and the toadyism and the flunkeyism, the habeas corpus suspension acts may have expired, and you crawl into existence again, broken down in health, business ruined, with a cauldron of vengeances burning in your breast, and no increased love for your own government.
I repeat again, my countrymen, that my application to you is not personal. It is general, and seeks the removal of and redress for a general insult. You have entered into a sacred compact with the American government. You have renounced all former allegiance and [Page 136] have sworn to obey and protect her laws. By your industry, by your manual labor, by your intellect, by your capital, by your devotion, by your blood on the battle-field, you have, in proportion to your number, done more than any other class of citizens to raise your adopted country to the proud position which she holds to-day. You are a producing class. You are the material from which, in case of internal or foreign war, the fighting element is to come. You, in case of a draft, seek not money exemption; you prefer to take your position in the field. You are the faithful sentinels on the outpost, guarding with a jealous, with a vengeful eye the sacred approaches to republicanism and freedom from the insidious salleys of Englishmen and monarchy. While you have done and are doing all this, you are neglecting a sacred duty to yourself, to your children, to posterity, to the aspirations of freedom, and to generations yet unborn, by, without remonstrating, permitting England with impunity for one hour to hold in imprisonment an American citizen for presumed acts committed in America, thereby defiantly ignoring your citizenship, and consequently the right of the United States to confer it. I seek no organized or organization interest in my behalf. I will fight my own battle while there is a rule left; I know my rights and will seek them; and if I have not in the ordinary walks of life made friends sufficient to see justice done to me, now let my case go. I am only an humble individual; but protect the sacred right of citizenship. I have placed my case on the desk of the President, as will be seen by the subjoined letter. I have in a true and independent style stated my case. It is short. I am a United States citizen. I have violated no English law, I am falsely imprisoned and seek his protection; and I am sure that that independence of character which marked his noble conduct on the occasion of the patriotic position which he took in his native State, when native enthusiasts, instigated by material aid and still further promises from England, nearly pulled down the temple of liberty, will, on the occasion of this encroachment on the Constitution of the United States and abuses of her citizens, when properly placed before him, rouse his old Hickoryism again, and in discharge of his grand mission he will independently notify John Bull thai now and forever more no citizen of the United States is to be touched for acts committed in the United States, and as an indication of what he is going to do and what he will do, he will despatch, “Drop that Irishman, Warren, you have in No. 17 Kilmainham. The keeping of him 24 hours longer won’t be conducive to your health.”
I am, fellow countrymen, as ever, no better or worse,
Letter to the President.
Dear Sir: I most respectfully call your Excellency’s attention to my case. By birth an Irishman, by adoption an American citizen. Here is a member of the press, collecting notes, coupled with the desire to see the old scenes, and to meet the old friends of my boyhood, and near and dear relatives. I was arrested on the 1st of June, and have since been closely confined in silence and solitude. I have violated no English law. No evidence has been advanced against me. I have repeatedly demanded my release, or an immediate trial; and now, as an American citizen and a freeman, ask your Excellency’s interposition in my behalf, to obtain a right (my freedom) which England has no power to take, and which claims your Excellency’s protection. My friends will place my case more fully before your Excellency.
I am your Excellency’s faithful friend,
His Excellency Andrew Johnson, President of the United States, America.
[Circular.]
Sir: I transmit herewith a copy of a proclamation by the President of the United States, which was issued on the 3d day of September, instant, and it is made my duty to enjoin upon you an observance of the requirements of that proclamation for an earnest support of the Constitution of the United States, and a faithful execution of the laws which have been made in pursuance thereof.
I am, sir, your obedient servant,
Charles Francis Adams, Esq., &c., &c., &c.
By the President of the United States.
A PROCLAMATION.
Whereas, by the Constitution of the United States, the executive power is vested in a President of the United States of America, who is bound by solemn oath faithfully to execute the office of President, and to the best of his ability to preserve, protect, and defend the Constition of the United States, and is by the same instrument made commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States, and is required to take care that the laws be faithfully executed;
And whereas, by the same Constitution, it is provided that the said Constitution and the laws of the United States which shall be made in pursuance thereof shall be the supreme law of the land, and the judges in every State shal be bound thereby;
And whereas, in and by the same Constitution, the judicial power of the United States is vested in one Supreme Court and in such inferior courts as Congress may, from time to time, ordain and establish, and the aforesaid judicial power is declared to extend to all cases in law and equity arising under the Constitution, the laws of the United States, and the treaties which shall be made under their authority;
And whereas, all officers, civil and military, are bound by oath that they will support and defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and will bear true faith and allegiance to the same;
And whereas all officers of the army and navy of the United States, in accepting their commissions under the laws of Congress and the rules and articles of war, incur an obligation to observe, obey, and follow such directions as they shall from time to time receive from the President or the General, or other superior officers set over them, according to the rules and discipline of war;
And whereas it is provided by law that whenever, by reason of unlawful obstructions, combinations, or assemblages of persons, or rebellion against the authority of the government of the United States, it shall become impracticable, in the judgment of the President of the United States, to enforce, by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings, the laws of the United States within any State or Territory, the Executive in that case is authorized and required to secure their faithful execution by the employment of the land and naval forces;
And whereas impediments and obstructions, serious in their character, have recently been interposed in the States of North Carolina and South Carolina, hindering and preventing for a time the proper enforcement there of the laws of the United States, and of the judgments and decrees of a lawful court thereof, in disregard of the command of the President of the United States;
And whereas reasonable and well-founded apprehensions exist that such ill-advised and unlawful proceedings may be again attempted there or elsewhere:
Now, therefore, 1, Andrew Johnson, President of the United States, do hereby warn all persons against obstructing or hindering in any manner whatsoever the faithful execution of the Constitution and the laws; and I do solemnly enjoin and command all officers of the government, civil and military, to render due submission and obedience to said laws, and to the judgments and decrees of the courts of the United States, and to give all the aid in their power necessary to the prompt enforcement and execution of such laws, decrees, judgments, and processes.
And I do hereby enjoin upon the officers of the army and navy to assist and sustain the courts and other civil authorities of the United States in a faithful administration of the laws thereof, and in the judgments, decrees, mandates, and processes of the courts of the United States; and I call upon all good and well-disposed citizens of the United States to remember that upon the said Constitution and laws, and upon the judgments, decrees, and processes of the courts made in accordance with the same, depend the protection of the lives, liberty, property, and happiness of the people. And I exhort them everywhere to testify their devotion to their country, their pride in its prosperity and greatness, and their determination to uphold its free institutions by a hearty co-operation in the efforts of the government to sustain the authority of the law, to maintain the supremacy of the federal Constitution, and to preserve unimpaired the integrity of the national Union.
In testimony whereof I have caused the seal of the United States to be affixed to these presents, and sign the same with my hand.
Done at the city of Washington, the third day of September, in the year one thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven.
By the President:
William H. Seward, Secretary of State,