Washington,
June 20th, 1861.
My Dearest Mary,
— I told you that I went with Seward in the evening of Monday to see the
President. He looks younger than I expected — less haggard than the pictures —
and on the whole, except for his height, which is two or three inches above six
feet, would not be remarked in any way as ill- or well-looking. His
conversation was commonplace enough, and I can hardly remember a single word
that he said, except when we were talking — all three — about the military
plans in progress, he observed, not meaning anything like an epigram, “Scott
will not let us outsiders know anything of his plans.” He seemed sincere and
honest, however, and steady, but of course it is quite out of the question for
me to hazard an opinion on so short an acquaintance as to his moral or
intellectual qualities.
Seward impresses me as being decidedly a man of intellect,
but seems an egotist. . . . There is no doubt whatever that the early
impressions of the Foreign Ministers here were favourable to the success of the
rebellion, and that these impressions were conveyed to their Governments.
Mercier, the French Minister, was most decided in his views and his sympathies,
while Lord Lyons, calm and quiet as you know him to be, as well as sagacious
and right-minded, had also little doubt, I suspect, six or seven weeks ago that
the secession or revolution was an accomplished fact. Hence the anxiety of
their Governments to be on good terms with the rebels, particularly after the
astounding misrepresentations of the Southern commissioners. It amuses
Americans very much when I tell them that the recognition of Mr. Adams was
remonstrated against by those individuals.
I dined with Lord Lyons yesterday, and M. Mercier was there.
Of course we spoke of little else but American affairs. There is no need of
quoting the conversation, but it is sufficient to say that little doubt seems
now to exist in the minds of either that the United States Government is sure
to put down this rebellion and remain a great power—greater than ever before.
The encouragement which the rebels have derived from their
premature recognition which they have received as belligerents, and still more
by the exclusion of our ships of war as well as their pirates from the
English ports all over the world, for the purpose of bringing in prizes,
while on the contrary France does not exclude our ships of war, but only
privateers, has already given the rebellion a new lease of life. Still more
pernicious is the hope which is now entertained by the rebels, that so soon as
the new cotton crop is ready to come forward — say in October — England will
break up our blockade, and of course become instantly involved in war with us.
I refuse to contemplate such a possibility. It would be madness on the part of
England, for at the very moment when it would ally itself with the South
against the United States, for the sake of supplying the English manufacturers
with their cotton, there would be a cry of twenty millions as from one mouth
for the instant emancipation of all the slaves.
Nothing could resist that cry. The sentiment of the Free
States would be more overwhelming even than its manifestation so lately, which
has surprised the world by the rising as it were out of the earth in the brief
space of six weeks, of a well equipped and disciplined army of 250,000 men. The
alliance of England with the South for the sake of re-opening the cotton ports
would have for its instant result the total destruction of the cotton interest.
An invading army at half a dozen different ports would proclaim the instant
abolition of slavery.
There is not the slightest exaggeration in this. No logic
can be more inexorable, and the opinion is avowed on all sides.
To break our blockade for the sake of getting cotton for
Manchester, would lead to the total extermination of the cotton crop for many a
long year. No English statesman can be blind to this, and therefore I do not
fear any interference on the part of England. The South, however, does expect
such interference, and will in consequence prolong its struggle a little.
I passed the whole of the day before yesterday on the other
side of the Potomac — the “sacred soil of Virginia.” We hired a carriage and
took it on board a small steamer plying to Alexandria. The sail for about half
a dozen miles along the broad, magnificent Potomac, under a cloudless sky, but
protected by an awning, was very pleasant. The heat is not excessive yet, and
there is usually a good air stirring. The expanse of hill and dale and the
wooded heights which surround the margin of the beautiful river make a
delightful passage of scenery. Alexandria, but lately a bustling tobacco port,
is now like a city of the dead so far as anything like traffic is concerned. It
is the head-quarters of General McDowell, an experienced army officer, who
commands all the Union troops (some 25,000) in this part of Virginia.
We went to the Marshall House, the principal hotel of the
place, where, as I suppose you read in the papers, Colonel Ellsworth of the New
York Zouaves was killed. He had gone in person to the top of the house to cut
down a Secession flag, and was coming down the stairs with it, when he was shot
by the master of the house, one Jackson, who in his turn was instantly
despatched by a private in the regiment. Ellsworth is much regretted as a young
officer of great courage and irreproachable character.
By the way, you should read in the Atlantic for June
and July a very spirited account of the march of the New York 7th to
Washington. It was written by Major Winthrop of New York, who was killed the
other day in that unlucky and blundering affair of General Pierce at Great
Bethel. These outpost skirmishes are of little consequence to their ultimate
results, but they serve to encourage the enemy a little. On the other hand,
they read a useful lesson to Government upon the folly of appointing militia
officers to high command when there is no lack of able and experienced army
officers. Of these there are plenty, and no idea is more ridiculous than that
the South has got all the officers and all the military material. The bone and
sinew of the Free States are probably the best raw material for troops in the
world. General Scott told me last night that the Massachusetts volunteers in a
few months would be equal to the best regulars. To an unsophisticated eye they
are nearly so already.
A regiment marched into Washington yesterday morning— the
Massachusetts 1st—and with their steady march, stout frames, good equipments,
and long train of baggage waggons, drawn by admirable teams of horses,
following them, they looked very business-like, I assure you. And this regiment
is but a tenth part of the men whom Massachusetts has already contributed. As
for New York, I am afraid to say how many are already here, and they are
wonderfully well-drilled — at least 20,000 — and they can send on as many more
as can possibly be required. The contention now among the States is to get the
largest proportion of their regiments accepted. The manner in which these great
armies have been so suddenly improvised is astounding to foreigners. “C'est
le pays des improvisations” said
Mr. Mercier to me yesterday. From Alexandria we went on to Shuter's Hill, one
of the heights commanding Washington, where, under guidance of Colonel Wright,
the engineer who built the works, we examined the very considerable
fortifications which have been erected here.
It is very interesting to see the volunteers working with
pick and spade under the broiling sun of Virginia, without complaint or
inconvenience. They are men who have never doubted that labour was honourable.
We afterwards went to Arlington House, formerly the seat of
Washington Custis, and now the property of General Lee. He is an excellent
officer, and was, before his defection, a favourite of General Scott. The place
has great natural beauties of hill and dale, lawn and forest, and commands a
magnificent view of Washington and the whole valley of the Potomac; but the
house is mean. It is now the head-quarters of General McDowell (I was wrong in
saying further back that these were at Alexandria). Colonel Heintzelmann
commands there, and there are some New York regiments encamped in the grounds.
I observed one alley through the tents had been christened Fifth Avenue. The
property is thoroughly respected, and the soldiers have even amused their
leisure in planting little gardens about their tents instead of destroying or
defacing anything.
Thus we passed the day in going about the lines from one
point to another, receiving explanations of everything from most intelligent
officers — generally of the regular army. The works at the Tete du Pont, to
defend the mile-long bridge which crosses the Potomac from the Virginia side to
Washington, are very thorough, and the attempt upon Washington, if made, must,
I think, result in a total defeat. I passed an hour with General Scott last
night at his house in Washington. He tells me still that he expects an attack
daily along the whole line, says that the rebels are perhaps in greater number
than those which he has in the immediate neighbourhood, but that his are much
better troops. I could not make out that he had any reasons to expect an
attack, except upon the logical ground that they must do it, or come to grief
by remaining inactive. They are poorly provisioned, impatient, and in danger of
disbanding. Meantime, Scott has secured Harper's Ferry, a most important
strategical position, without striking a blow. They were forced to evacuate the
place to escape being surrounded. “Eeate d savoir” how it will be at Manassas Junction. The General
pleases me exceedingly. He is in manner quiet, but hale, vigorous, and full of
energy, and has no doubt whatever of bringing the whole matter to a happy issue
within a reasonable time. But the things which annoy him most are the lying
telegrams of the newspapers and the general impatience of outsiders. I spent an
hour and a half with Seward last evening, and afterwards called at the White
House on Mrs. Lincoln. She is rather nice-looking, youngish, with very round
white arms, well dressed, chatty enough, and if she would not, like all the
South and West, say “Sir” to you every instant, as if you were a royal
personage, she would be quite agreeable.
SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The
Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Volume 1, p. 382-7
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