31 Hertford Street,
March 15, 1861.
My Dearest Mother:
. . . It is not for want of affection
and interest, not from indolence, but I can hardly tell you how difficult it is
to me to write letters. I pass as much of my time daily as I can at the State
Paper Office, reading hard in the old MSS. there for my future volumes; and as
the hours are limited there to from ten till four, I am not really master of my
own time.
I am delighted to find that the success of the “United Netherlands”
gives you and my father so much pleasure. It is by far the pleasantest reward
for the hard work I have gone through to think that the result has given you
both so much satisfaction. Not that I grudge the work, for, to say the truth, I
could not exist without hard labor, and if I were compelled to be idle for the
rest of my days, I should esteem it the severest affliction possible.
My deepest regret is that my work should be for the present
on the wrong side of the Atlantic. Before leaving the subject of the new
volumes, I should like to say that I regret that no one has sent me any of the
numerous reviews and notices in the American papers and magazines to which you
allude. I received a number of the New York “Times” from the governor, and also
the “Courier,” containing notices. The latter, which was beautifully and
sympathetically written, I ascribed to Hillard's pen, which I do not think I
can mistake. If this be so, I hope you will convey my best thanks to him.
These are the only two which have been sent to me, and it is
almost an impossibility for me to procure American newspapers here. Of course
both Mary and Lily, as well as myself, would be pleased to see such notices,
and it seems so easy to have a newspaper directed to 31 Hertford Street, with a
three-cent stamp. Fortunately, I recently subscribed to the “Atlantic Monthly,'”
and so received the March number, in which there is a most admirably written
notice, although more complimentary than I deserve. It is with great difficulty
that I can pick up anything of the sort, and I fear now that as the time passes
it will be difficult for me to receive them from America.
The Harpers have not written to me, but I received a line
from Tom showing that the book was selling very well considering the times. As
to politics I shall not say a word, except that at this moment we are in
profound ignorance as to what will be the policy of the new administration, how
the inauguration business went off, and what was the nature of Mr. Lincoln's
address, and how it was received, all which you at home at this moment have
known for eleven days. I own that I can hardly see any medium between a
distinct recognition of the Southern Confederacy as an independent foreign
power, and a vigorous war to maintain the United States government throughout
the whole country. But a war without an army means merely a general civil war,
for the great conspiracy to establish the Southern Republic, concocted for
twenty years, and brought to maturity by Mr. Buchanan's cabinet ministers, has,
by that wretched creature's connivance and vacillation, obtained such
consistency in these fatal three months of interregnum as to make it
formidable. The sympathy of foreign powers, and particularly of England, on
which the seceders so confidently relied to help them on in their plot, has not
been extended to them. I know on the very highest authority and from repeated
conversations that the English government looks with deepest regret on the
dismemberment of the great American Republic. There has been no negotiation
whatever up to this time of any kind, secret or open, with the secessionists.
This I was assured of three or four days ago. . . . At the same time, I am obliged to say
that there has been a change, a very great change, in English sympathy since
the passing of the Morrill Tariff Bill. That measure has done more than any
commissioner from the Southern Republic could do to alienate the feelings of
the English public toward the United States, and they are much more likely to
recognize the Southern Confederacy at an early day than they otherwise would
have done. If the tariff people had been acting in league with the
secessionists to produce a strong demonstration in Europe in favor of the
dissolution of the Union, they could not have managed better.
I hear that Lewis Stackpole is one of the most rising young
lawyers of the day, that he is very popular everywhere, thought to have great
talents for his profession, great industry, and that he is sure to succeed. You
may well suppose with how much delight we hear such accounts of him.
My days are always spent in hard work, and as I never work
at night, going out to dinners and parties is an agreeable and useful
relaxation, and as I have the privilege of meeting often many of the most
eminent people of our times, I should be very stupid if I did not avail myself
of it; and I am glad that Lily has so good an opportunity of seeing much of the
most refined and agreeable society in the world.
The only very distinguished literary person that I have seen
of late for the first time is Dickens. I met him last week at a dinner at John
Forster's. I had never even seen him before, for he never goes now into
fashionable company. He looks about the age of Longfellow. His hair is not much
grizzled and is thick, although the crown of his head is getting bald. His features
are good, the nose rather high, the eyes largish, grayish, and very expressive.
He wears a mustache and beard, and dresses at dinner in exactly the same
uniform which every man in London or the civilized world is bound to wear, as
much as the inmates of a penitentiary are restricted to theirs. I mention this
because I had heard that he was odd and extravagant in his costume. I liked him
exceedingly. We sat next each other at table, and I found him genial,
sympathetic, agreeable, unaffected, with plenty of light, easy talk and
touch-and-go fun without any effort or humbug of any kind. He spoke with great
interest of many of his Boston friends, particularly of Longfellow, Wendell Holmes,
Felton, Sumner, and Tom Appleton. I have got to the end of my paper, my dearest
mother, and so, with love to the governor and A–––, and all the family great
and small, I remain
Most affectionately
your son,
J. L. M.
P. S. I forgot to say that another of Forster's guests was
Wilkie Collins (the "Woman in White's" author). He is a little man,
with black hair, a large white forehead, large spectacles, and small features.
He is very unaffected, vivacious, and agreeable.
SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The
Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition,
Volume 2, p. 117-21
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