Brooks and Wilson—Dueling, Street-Fights, or Personal Abuse, published June 2, 1856

The New York Courier has the following dispatch:

“WASHINGTON, THURSDAY NIGHT.

Mr. Brooks, by Mr. Lane of Oregon, sent today a note to Gen. Wilson, demanding that Gen. Wilson should either retract the words “murderous, brutal, and cowardly,” used by him in characterizing Mr. Brooks’ assault on Mr. Sumner, or indicate where he would receive a hostile message from Mr. Brooks. Gen. Wilson, in answer refused to retract or qualify his words, declined receiving a challenge, but said he would defend himself from personal violence. For some hours after this correspondence had passed, a street fight was expected, as General Wilson was well armed, and was surrounded by armed friends.—Mr. Brooks left for Cincinnati this afternoon, and General Wilson will go North tomorrow. General Wilson proposes to address a Republican meeting at Newburgh on Saturday night.”

General Webb adds the following telegraphic item:

“General Wilson’s refusal to fight Mr. Brooks, on the ground that dueling is contrary to the laws of God and man, is approved, but there are those who condemn him for inviting the challenge, while entertaining such sentiments, and think he has lost ground by the affair, and that Mr. Brooks has benefitted in the same ration. There will be no more bullying and blustering, and the peace will not be disturbed by the principals or the friends.”

We are not advised by whom Wilson’s refusal to fight is approved, and it is rather unintelligible, on connexion with what follows, that he had lost ground for refusing a challenge after having defied it. We suppose the meaning of it to be that Wilson was unwilling to engage in a fair fight, but was not adverse to a row, surrounded by armed friends, in which he might hope for some undue advantage. Whatever be the fact, we are not surprised to hear that even his own section is ashamed of him. Wherever English blood flows, and the English language is spoken, a man who acts the bully, or indulges in personal abuse of others, must suffer in public estimation, if, when called on for honorable satisfaction, he refuses to accord it. It is proper it should be so. It is the right of society to make those suffer who outrage the recognized laws of good breeding. We may say what we will of the absurdity and immorality of dueling, and of its ineffectiveness as a mode of personal redress; but, as human nature is constituted, there is no alternative, except street fights, or secret associations, or a disgraceful system of vilification and calumny, attended by slander suits. Poisoning, or some other secret mode of murder, was the system in earlier times, and continued to a quite late day in Italy. The duello superseded it among all the chivalrous nations of modern times, and wherever the “code of honor” has been established, it has maintained, speaking generally, a high and courteous bearing between man and man. Many individuals may have lost their lives by it; but society reaped the benefit. This was the mode of adjusting private wrongs, which prevailed throughout our Republic in its earlier days. It then knew no North or South—it bore sway everywhere. But in later times, a great change has taken place. Mercantile caution, purantic hypocrisy and the spirit of knavish attorneys at the North, have combined to ignore this mode of adjustment, and substituted slander suits. Our intercourse with the North as affected us some what, and, under its influence, we have enacted anti-duelling laws; though popular opinion continues to damn a man if he does not fight, and then doubly damns him if he does. Society, however, still exacts its dues here, and insists that those who outrage its prerogatives shall pay the penalty of their crimes, and from Gen. Webb’s despatch it appears that they cannot escape altogether undamaged even at the North.

SOURCE: Richmond Daily Whig, Richmond Virginia, Monday Morning, June 2, 1856, p. 2

Fizzled Out — published June 2, 1856

“Wilson has fizzled out, contrary to the expectations of his friends.” So writes the Herald correspondent at Washington, in respect to the notorious Abolition Senator from Massachusetts. After denouncing the conduct of Col. Brooks as “brutal, murderous and cowardly,” this courageous Abolition incendiary, when applied to for satisfaction in the most usual form, refuses to give it, upon the ground that he is no “duelist.” Fizzled out he has sure enough; but not “contrary to the expectations” of anybody but a fanatic like himself. And yet Wilson is the fellow who employs brave language in his speeches, goes armed, and at last is afraid to move about Washington unless surrounded by a half dozen friends as white-livered as himself.

SOURCE: Richmond Daily Whig, Richmond Virginia, Monday Morning, June 2, 1856, p. 2

Reported Challenge — published May 27, 1856

WASHINGTON, May 26.—It is reported that Hon. Preston S. Brooks of S. C., has challenged Gen. Webb of the N. Y. Courier and Enquirer, in consequence of an article in that paper commenting upon the assault upon Mr. Sumner. Gen. Webb disavowed the authorship of the article in question, and declined to accept the challenge.

[SECOND DESPATCH.]

WASHINGTON, May 26, P. M.—Mr. Brooks has not challenged Gen. Webb. A correspondence has passed between them in relation to the article in question, General Webb stating that the article was not written by himself, but his view will appear to-morrow in the Courier and Enquirer, over his own signature.

SOURCE: Richmond Daily Whig, Richmond Virginia, Tuesday Morning, May 27, 1856, p. 3

The assault by Mr. Brooks of S. C., upon Mr. Sumner, of Massachusetts . . .

. . . is a theme of fruitful and indignant comment in the abolition papers of the North. The Bostonians are quite as furious as their forefathers were when they threw the tea overboard and something quite as desperate may be anticipated from their present wrath. We hope, however they will do themselves no personal injury.

We are not partial to modes of violence for the settlement of differences of opinion, but we admit the propriety of resorting to such means under certain state of circumstances. The highest justification that has ever been urged on behalf of the “code of honor,” is that it tends to maintain the external decencies in social intercourse, and to preserve society from disreputable personalities and shameless brawls. The Code having been revoked and expunged within the jurisdiction of Congress, the two Houses of Congress have degenerated into arenas, where the greatest amount of course personal abuse and blackguardism is substituted for civility and argument. The immunity from personal accountability seemed to inflame in an especial manner the bile of the band of cowardly hypocrites, who, with professions of Christian love on their lips harbor hate to all God’s creatures. Free of the code of honor, and claiming freedom from personal chastisement of the ground that they were non-combatants, they gave full swing to their foul, calumnious tongues—vilifying and traducing the whole population of one section of the Union, denouncing them as robbers and murderers, and applying every other opprobrious epithet, which their base natures could devise. The Senator from Massachusetts has been one of the chiefs of this dastardly crew of wholesale traducers. Heretofore his vilifications and calumnies were general in their character, spread over the whole slave-holding portion of the Union. In his late speech, whoever, gathering courage from  past indulgence, he became specific, and charges the Senator of South Carolina with the effrontery of defending prostitutes; and adding: “Nor was there any possible deviation from the truth, which he did not make.” The venerable Senator from South Carolina being absent, his kinsman, Mr. Brooks, took it upon himself to resent the indignity. We only regret the mode of his proceeding. Had he sent the foul-mouthed traducer word that he would cowhide him on sight, and selected the street instead of the Senate chamber as the scene for the administration of justice, the deed would be commended without reservation by good men all over the Union.

As it is, the castigation may not be unattended by wholesome results. We see it begins to make some of the Northern calumniators of the South put on their considering caps. The New York Times, one of the meanest and most detestable of the set, contemplates the transaction with horror and alarm. It says:

It shows that the Border Ruffian has become the type  and the exemplar of a large portion of the law-makers of the republic;—that the revolver, the club and the bowie-knife are to be the weapons by which the champions of Slavery propose hereafter to silence their opponents:—that assassination is to be employed, not only by private ruffians as a means of redressing private wrongs, but by representatives of the slaveholding class as a mode of advancing their peculiar views and establish their own ascendency. It affords another and a very strong proof of the domineering insolence of the slaveholding interest, as an element in our Federal Government, and tends to confirm the impression which its uniform policy is calculated to make,—that it will stop at no extremity of violence in order to subdue the people of the Free States and force them into a tame subservience to its own domination. That success of Ruffianism in Kansas has emboldened the champions of Slavery to introduce it at the Federal Capitol—and everything indicates a purpose on their part to resort to force when argument fails.

What will be the result of such a policy remains to be seen. That men from Free States will be cowed and conquered by it is very probable, unless it is met and resisted. If Southern members are to use the bludgeon as the pistol with impunity, and their victims are to submit without resistance to all this brutality, as a matter of course. Northern men will avoid making issue or taking positions which involve the danger of such assaults. We repeat what we have often said this subject, that it is the imperative duty of Congress to protect its members from such assaults,—by expelling instantly any one guilty of making them, and by treating as a gross breach of its privileges all such personalities as may give occasion for them. Thus far, however, neither House of Congress have done anything whatever in this direction. Both the Senate and the House of Representatives, as Parliamentary bodies seem utterly insensible to all considerations of their indignity and self respect. Unless some reform can be introduced in this particular,—and we believe half a dozen earnest men, all of the right stamp, in either branch, could compel a radical and complete reform,—there is but this alternative: Northern men must suit their conduct to the company they are compelled to keep, and meet the Pro-Slavery bullies with their own weapons and upon their own ground, or they must continue to be the victims of their insolence and brutality.

This sounds hopeful! Northern men will avoid making issues or taking positions, which involve the danger of such assaults!  That’s all we ask. Behave like gentlemen, and you will be treated like gentlemen. But if you expect to vilify Southern members and their constituents, and to hold them up to the abhorrence and execration of mankind, and that with impunity, you will be disappointed. We are glad to see that the Times intimates that the Northern hypocrites will no longer shelter themselves behind the cowardly subterfuge of non-combativeness, but will arm themselves with revolvers, bowie knives and bludgeons. The act of arming all round—and the thing distinctly understood on all sides—will tend powerfully to civil speech and universal peace. Better have a good order and respect for law and decency, with an occasional outbreak, under the stern rule of the pistol, than the disgraceful exhalations of blackguardism we now witness.

SOURCE: Richmond Daily Whig, Richmond Virginia, Tuesday Morning, May 27, 1856, p. 2

George D. Phillips* to Howell Cobb, February 21, 1846

Clarksville [ga.,] 21st Feb. 1846.

Dear Sir: I have just returned from a trip to Texas and if my voice could reach Washington and my opinions have any, the slightest influence on grave Senators, that beautiful country would soon be a portion of our Confederacy. I have seen and conversed with and freely mixed with all classes and do assure you if Texas is not now annexed it never can be with their consent. The property holders and higher classes of the people are anxious for the Union but the middle and lower classe[s] decidedly oposed to it, whilst but few people of property are now immigrating to the country, and vast numbers from Ark., Misso., Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, etc., to say nothing of the swarms from foreign countries are nearly to a man against annexation. Should the measure not succeed now many of its warm advocates will drop off and the issue between competitors for Congress in Texas at their next election will be, annexation or no annexation, and when that issue comes the anti-annexationists will be in the majority. I was not fully satisfied of the importance of Texas to our country in a military point of view until I travelled into the [country]. Nor would Oregon be worth a baubee to us without Texas; [never] could protect it, and if we do not get the last I hope we will be wise enough to surrender the latter; and if I had a seat in Congress I never would favour any project for the occupation of Oregon until we had got Texas, but on the contrary throw every impediment in the way, even give it up to England or the devil.

What is Tom Benton about; is he yet sowing the wind? He will surely reap the whirlwind for his past acts. It is thought by many he will break up the harmony of the Democratic party. I think not; he may fume, fret and denounce, but he has lost caste, he is no longer the big gun he was with the people, he is denounced from Geo. to the Colorado.

What a misfortune Yancey did not bore his man through just for the honor of Old Rip;¹ but whatever is, is right!

I did intend being in Washington on the 4th and see little Jemmy invested with the proud mantle of Washington and Jackson, but my long trip and the delicate state of my wife's health will prevent; so I shall remain quiet until you get home and visit us at our Court.

_______________

* A leading Democrat of northeastern Georgia, a keen critic of public affairs.

¹ This alludes to the bloodless duel between William L. Yancey, of Alabama, and Thomas L. Clingman, of North Carolina. “Old Rip” (Rip Van Winkle) was a nickname of the State of North Carolina.

SOURCE: Ulrich Bonnell Phillips, Editor, The Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1911, Volume 2: The Correspondence of Robert Toombs, Alexander H. Stephens, and Howell Cobb, p. 65-6

Diary of William Howard Russell: June 16, 1861

I was compelled to send my excuses to Governor Pettus, and remained quietly within the house of my host, entreating him to protect me from visitors and especially my own confreres, that I might secure a few hours even in that ardent heat to write letters to home. Now, there is some self-denial required, if one be at all solicitous of the popularis aura, to offend the susceptibilities of the irritable genus in America. It may make all the difference between millions of people hearing and believing you are a high-toned, whole souled gentleman or a wretched, ignorant and prejudiced John Bull; but, nevertheless, the solid pudding of self-content and the satisfaction of doing one's work are preferable to the praise even of a New York newspaper editor.

When my work was over I walked out and sat in the shade with a gentleman whose talk turned upon the practices of the Mississippi duello. Without the smallest animus, and in the most natural way in the world, he told us tale after tale of blood, and recounted terrible tragedies enacted outside bars of hotels and in the public streets close beside us. The very air seemed to become purple as he spoke, the land around a veritable “Aceldama.” There may, indeed, be security for property, but there is none for the life of its owner in difficulties, who may be shot by a stray bullet from a pistol as he walks up the street.

I learned many valuable facts. I was warned, for example, against the impolicy of trusting to small-bored pistols or to pocket six-shooters in case of a close fight, because suppose you hit your man mortally he may still run in upon you and rip you up with a bowie-knife before he falls dead; whereas if you drive a good heavy bullet into him, or make a hole in him with a “Derringer” ball, he gets faintish and drops at once.

Many illustrations, too, were given of the value of practical lessons of this sort. One particularly struck me. If a gentleman with whom you are engaged in altercation moves his hand towards his breeches pocket, or behind his back, you must smash him or shoot him at once, for he is either going to draw his six-shooter, to pull out a bowie-knife, or to shoot you through the lining of his pocket. The latter practice is considered rather ungentlemanly, but it has somewhat been more honored lately in the observance than in the breach. In fact, the savage practice of walking about with pistols, knives, and poniards, in bar-rooms and gambling-saloons, with passions ungoverned, because there is no law to punish the deeds to which they lead, affords facilities for crime which an uncivilized condition of society leaves too often without punishment, but which must be put down or the country in which it is tolerated will become as barbarous as a jungle inhabited by wild beasts.

Our host gave me an early dinner, at which I met some of the citizens of Jackson, and at six o'clock I proceeded by the train for Memphis. The carriages were, of course, full of soldiers or volunteers, bound for a large camp at a place called Corinth, who made night hideous by their song and cries, stimulated by enormous draughts of whiskey and a proportionate consumption of tobacco, by teeth and by fire. The heat in the carriages added to the discomforts arising from these causes, and from great quantities of biting insects in the sleeping places. The people have all the air and manners of settlers. Altogether the impression produced on my mind was by no means agreeable, and I felt as if I was indeed in the land of Lynch-law and bowie-knives, where the passions of men have not yet been subordinated to the influence of the tribunals of justice. Much of this feeling has no doubt been produced by the tales to which I have been listening around me — most of which have a smack of manslaughter about them.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 300-1

Count Adam Gurowski to James S. Pike, April 16, 1860

New York, Monday, April 16.

Dear Yankee: Congratulate Mr. Potter for me from the bottom of my heart.

What is the talk about code of honor? There is and never was such a codification in Europe among the genuine chivalry for these one thousand years, neither among nobles of any country of Europe. There is a kind of common law which every one knows, and a practice of details which is acquired in the same way as by a lawyer. I fought more than thirty duels, was second perhaps sixty times at least, and all with gentlemen and noblemen, and never heard of code of honor or absolute rule about weapons. If there is any code, rule, or common law about it, it is this: that cowards only refuse when a weapon magnifies danger. I assisted to duels, as second, when one of the combatants, pistols in hand, proposed to approach each other from ten paces (the original distance) to three. It was accepted. Old and hoary as I am, and never having really seen the use of a bowie-knife, I would accept it if I still should insist on my reputation as duellist. We Polish nobility, we fight generally with short, half-round Turkish swords. It makes ugly gashes, and I saw bowels come out once.

Mrs. Potter is a Spartan lady, and has a true gentleman for a husband. Greeley is an ass.

Yours,

Gurowski.

SOURCE: James Shepherd Pike, First Blows of the Civil War: The Ten Years of Preliminary Conflict in the United States from 1850 to 1860, p. 513

Diary of Sarah Morgan: April 19, 1862

Another date in Hal's short history! I see myself walking home with Mr. McGimsey just after sundown, meeting Miriam and Dr. Woods at the gate; only that was a Friday instead of a Saturday, as this. From the other side, Mr. Sparks comes up and joins us. We stand talking in the bright moonlight which makes Miriam look white and statue-like. I am holding roses in my hand, in return for which one little pansy has been begged from my garden, and is now figuring as a shirt-stud. I turn to speak to that man of whom I said to Dr. Woods, before I even knew his name, “Who is this man who passes here so constantly? I feel that I shall hate him to my dying day.” He told me his name was Sparks, a good, harmless fellow, etc. And afterwards, when I did know him, [Dr. Woods] would ask every time we met, “Well! do you hate Sparks yet?” I could not really hate any one in my heart, so I always answered, “He is a good-natured fool, but I will hate him yet.” But even now I cannot: my only feeling is intense pity for the man who has dealt us so severe a blow; who made my dear father bow his gray head, and shed such bitter tears. The moon is rising still higher now, and people are hurrying to the grand Meeting, where the state of the country is to be discussed, and the three young men bow and hurry off, too. Later, at eleven o'clock, Miriam and I are up at Lydia's waiting (until the boat comes) with Miss Comstock who is going away. As usual, I am teasing and romping by turns. Harry suddenly stands in the parlor door, looking very grave, and very quiet. He is holding father's stick in his hand, and says he has come to take us over home. I was laughing still, so I said, “Wait,” while I prepared for some last piece of folly, but he smiled for the first time, and throwing his arm around me, said, “Come home, you rogue!” and laughing still, I followed him.

He left us in the hall, saying he must go to Charlie's a moment, but to leave the door open for him. So we went up, and I ran in his room, and lighted his gas for him, as I did every night when we went up together. In a little while I heard him come in and go to his room. I knew nothing then; but next day, going into mother's room, I saw him standing before the glass door of her armoir, looking at a black coat he had on. Involuntarily I cried out, “Oh, don't, Hal!” “Don't what? Isn't it a nice coat?” he asked. “Yes; but it is buttoned up to the throat, and I don't like to see it. It looks —“ here I went out as abruptly as I came in; that black coat so tightly buttoned troubled me.

He came to our room after a while and said he was going ten miles out in the country for a few days. I begged him to stay, and reproached him for going away so soon after he had come home. But he said he must, adding, “Perhaps I am tired of you, and want to see something new. I'll be so glad to get back in a few days.'” Father said yes, he must go, so he went without any further explanation.

Walking out to Mr. Davidson's that evening, Lydia and I sat down on a fallen rail beyond the Catholic graveyard, and there she told me what had happened. The night before, sitting on Dr. Woods's gallery, with six or eight others who had been singing, Hal called on Mr. Henderson to sing. He complied by singing one that was not nice.¹ Old Mr. Sparks got up to leave, and Hal said, “I hope we are not disturbing you?” No, he said he was tired and would go home. As soon as he was gone, his son, who I have since heard was under the influence of opium, — though Hal always maintained that he was not, — said it was a shame to disturb his poor old father. Hal answered, “You heard what he said. We did not disturb him.” “You are a liar!” the other cried. That is a name that none of our family has either merited or borne with; and quick as thought Hal sprang to his feet and struck him across the face with the walking-stick he held. The blow sent the lower part across the balcony in the street, as the spring was loosened by it, while the upper part, to which was fastened the sword — for it was father's sword-cane — remained in his hand.

I doubt that he ever before knew the cane could come apart. Certainly he did not perceive it, until the other whined piteously he was taking advantage over an unarmed man; when, cursing him, he (Harry) threw it after the body of the cane, and said, “Now we are equal.” The other's answer was to draw a knife,² and was about to plunge it into Harry, who disdained to flinch, when Mr. Henderson threw himself on Mr. Sparks and dragged him off.

It was a little while after that Harry came for us. The consequence of this was a challenge from Mr. Sparks in the morning, which was accepted by Harry's friends, who appointed Monday, at Greenwell, to meet. Lydia did not tell me that; she said she thought it had been settled peaceably, so I was not uneasy, and only wanted Harry to come back from Seth David's soon. The possibility of his fighting never occurred to me.

Sunday evening I was on the front steps with Miriam and Dr. Woods, talking of Harry and wishing he would come. “You want Harry!” the doctor repeated after me; “you had better learn to live without him.” “What an absurdity!” I said and wondered when he would come. Still later, Miriam, father, and I were in the parlor, when there was a tap on the window, just above his head, and I saw a hand, for an instant. Father hurried out, and we heard several voices; and then steps going away. Mother came down and asked who had been there, but we only knew that, whoever it was, father had afterward gone with them. Mother went on: “There is something going on, which is to be kept from me. Every one seems to know it, and to make a secret of it.” I said nothing, for I had promised Lydia not to tell; and even I did not know all.

When father came back, Harry was with him. I saw by his nod, and “How are you, girls,” how he wished us to take it, so neither moved from our chairs, while he sat down on the sofa and asked what kind of a sermon we had had. And we talked of anything except what we were thinking of, until we went upstairs.

Hal afterwards told me that he had been arrested up there, and father went with him to give bail; and that the sheriff had gone out to Greenwell after Mr. Sparks. He told me all about it next morning, saying he was glad it was all over, but sorry for Mr. Sparks; for he had a blow on his face which nothing would wash out. I said, “Hal, if you had fought, much as I love you, I would rather he had killed you than that you should have killed him. I love you too much to be willing to see blood on your hands.” First he laughed at me, then said, “If I had killed him, I never would have seen you again.”

We thought it was all over; so did he. But Baton Rouge was wild about it. Mr. Sparks was the bully of the town, having nothing else to do, and whenever he got angry or drunk, would knock down anybody he chose. That same night, before Harry met him, he had slapped one man, and had dragged another over the room by the hair; but these coolly went home, and waited for a voluntary apology. So the mothers, sisters, and intimate friends of those who had patiently borne the blows, and being “woolled,” vaunted the example of their heroes, and asked why Dr. Morgan had not acted as they had done, and waited for an apology? Then there was another faction who cried only blood could wash out that blow and make a gentleman of Mr. Sparks again, — as though he ever had been one! So knots assembled at street corners, and discussed it, until father said to us that Monday night, “These people are so excited, and are trying so hard to make this affair worse, that I would not be surprised if they shot each other down in the street,” speaking of Harry and the other.

Hal seemed to think of it no more, though, and Wednesday said he must go to the city and consult Brother as to where he should permanently establish himself. I was sorry; yet glad that he would then get away from all this trouble. I don't know that I ever saw him in higher spirits than he was that day and evening, the 24th. Lilly and Charlie were here until late, and he laughed and talked so incessantly that we called him crazy. We might have guessed by his extravagant spirits that he was trying to conceal something from us. . . .

He went away before daybreak, and I never saw him again.

_______________

¹ Note by Mrs. Dawson in 1896: "Annie Laurie!"

² Note by Mrs. Dawson: Bowie knife.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 10-15; Charles East, Sarah Morgan: The Civil War Diary of a Southern Woman, p. 43

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 5, 1861

Dined with the Southern Commissioners and a small party at Gautier's, a French restaurateur in Pennsylvania Avenue. The gentlemen present were, I need not say, all of one way of thinking; but as these leaves will see the light before the civil war is at an end, it is advisable not to give their names, for it would expose persons resident in Washington, who may not be suspected by the Government, to those marks of attention which they have not yet ceased to pay to their political enemies. Although I confess that in my judgment too much stress has been laid in England on the severity with which the Federal authorities have acted towards their political enemies, who were seeking their destruction, it may be candidly admitted, that they have forfeited all claim to the lofty position they once occupied as a Government existing by moral force, and by the consent of the governed, to which Bastilles and lettrès de cachêt, arbitrary arrests, and doubtful, illegal, if not altogether unconstitutional, suspension of habeas corpus and of trial by jury were unknown.

As Col. Pickett and Mr. Banks are notorious Secessionists, and Mr. Phillips has since gone South, after the arrest of his wife on account of her anti-federal tendencies, it may be permitted-to mention that they were among the guests. I had pleasure in making the acquaintance of Governor Roman. Mr. Crawford, his brother commissioner, is a much younger man, of considerably greater energy and determination, but probably of less judgment. The third commissioner, Mr. Forsyth, is fanatical in his opposition to any suggestions of compromise or reconstruction; but, indeed, upon that point, there is little difference of opinion amongst any of the real adherents of the South. Mr. Lincoln they spoke of with contempt; Mr. Seward they evidently regarded as the ablest and most unscrupulous of their enemies; but the tone in which they alluded to the whole of the Northern people indicated the clear conviction that trade, commerce, the pursuit of gain, manufacture, and the base mechanical arts, had so degraded the whole race, they would never attempt to strike a blow in fair fight for what they prized so highly in theory and in words. Whether it be in consequence of some secret influence which slavery has upon the minds of men, or that the aggression of the North upon their institutions has been of a nature to excite the deepest animosity and most vindictive hate, certain it is there is a degree of something like ferocity in the Southern mind towards New England which exceeds belief. I am persuaded that these feelings of contempt are extended towards England. They believe that we, too, have had the canker of peace upon us. One evidence of this, according to Southern men, is the abolition of duelling. This practice, according to them, is highly wholesome and meritorious; and, indeed, it may be admitted that in the state of society which is reported to exist in the Southern States, it is a useful check on such men as it restrained in our own islands in the last century. In the course of conversation, one gentleman remarked that he considered it disgraceful for any man to take money for the dishonor of his wife or his daughter. “With us,” he said, “there is but one mode of dealing known. The man who dares tamper with the honor of a white woman, knows what he has to expect. We shoot him down like a dog, and no jury in the South will ever find any man guilty of murder for punishing such a scoundrel.” An argument which can scarcely be alluded to was used by them, to show that these offences in Slave States had not the excuse which might be adduced to diminish their gravity when they occurred in States where all the population were white. Indeed, in this, as in some other matters of a similar character, slavery is their summum bonum of morality, physical excellence, and social purity. I was inclined to question the correctness of the standard which they had set up, and to inquire whether the virtue which needed this murderous use of the pistol and the dagger to defend it, was not open to some doubt; but I found there was very little sympathy with my views among the company.

The gentlemen at table asserted that the white men in the Slave States are physically superior to the men of the Free States; and indulged in curious theories in morals and physics to which I was a stranger. Disbelief of anything a Northern man — that is, a Republican — can say, is a fixed principle in their minds. I could not help remarking, when the conversation turned on the duplicity of Mr. Seward, and the wickedness of the Federal Government in refusing to give the assurance Sumter would not be relieved by force of arms, that it must be of very little consequence what promises Mr. Seward made, as, according to them, not the least reliance was to be placed on his word. The notion that the Northern men are cowards is justified by instances in which congressmen have been insulted by Southern men without calling them out, and Mr. Sumner's case was quoted as the type of the affairs of the kind between the two sides. I happened to say that I always understood Mr. Sumner had been attacked suddenly and unexpectedly, and struck down before he could rise from his desk to defend himself; whereupon a warm refutation of that version of the story was given, and I was assured that Mr. Brooks, who was a very slight man, and much inferior in height to Mr. Sumner, struck him a slight blow at first, and only inflicted the heavier strokes when irritated by the Senator's cowardly demeanor In reference to some remark made about the cavaliers and their connection with the South, I reminded the gentleman that, after all, the descendants of the Puritans were not to be despised in battle: and that the best gentry in England were worsted at last by the train-bands of London, and the “rabbledom” of Cromwell's Independents.

Mr., or Colonel, Pickett, is a tall good-looking man, of pleasant manners, and well-educated. But this gentleman was a professed buccaneer, a friend of Walker, the gray-eyed man of destiny — his comrade in his most dangerous razzie. He was a newspaper writer, a soldier, a filibuster; and he now threw himself into the cause of the South with vehemence; it was not difficult to imagine he saw in that cause the realization of the dreams of empire in the south of the Gulf, and of conquest in the islands of the sea, which have such a fascinating influence over the imagination of a large portion of the American people. He referred to Walker's fate with much bitterness, and insinuated he was betrayed by the British officer who ought to have protected him.

The acts of Mr. Floyd and Mr. Howell Cobb, which must be esteemed of doubtful morality, are here justified by the States' Rights doctrine. If the States had a right to go out, hey were quite right in obtaining their quota of the national property which would not have been given to them by the Lincolnites. Therefore, their friends were not to be censured because they had sent arms and money to the South.

Altogether the evening, notwithstanding the occasional warmth of the controversy, was exceedingly instructive; one could understand from the vehemence and force of the speakers the full meaning of the phrase of “firing the Southern heart,” so often quoted as an illustration of the peculiar force of political passion to be brought to bear against the Republicans in the Secession contest. Mr. Forsyth, struck me as being the most astute, and perhaps most capable, of the gentlemen whose mission to Washington seems likely to be so abortive. His name is historical in America — his father filled high office, and his son has also exercised diplomatic function. Despotisms and Republics of the American model approach each other closely. In Turkey the Pasha unemployed sinks into insignificance, and the son of the Pasha deceased is literally nobody. Mr. Forsyth was not selected as Southern Commissioner on account of the political status acquired by his father; but the position gained by his own ability, as editor of “The Mobile Register,” induced the Confederate authorities to select him for the post. It is quite possible to have made a mistake in such matters, but I am almost certain that the colored waiters who attended us at table looked as sour and discontented as could be, and seemed to give their service with a sort of protest. I am told that the tradespeople of Washington are strongly inclined to favor the Southern side.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 63-6

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 27, 1861

Wednesday – I have been mobbed by my own house servants. Some of them are at the plantation, some hired out at the Camden hotel, some are at Mulberry. They agreed to come in a body and beg me to stay at home to keep my own house once more, “as I ought not to have them scattered and distributed every which way.” I had not been a month in Camden since 1858. So a house there would be for their benefit solely, not mine. I asked my cook if she lacked anything on the plantation at the Hermitage. "Lack anything?” she said, “I lack everything. What are cornmeal, bacon, milk, and molasses? Would that be all you wanted? Ain't I been living and eating exactly as you does all these years? When I cook for you, didn't I have some of all? Dere, now!" Then she doubled herself up laughing. They all shouted, “Missis, we is crazy for you to stay home.”

Armsted, my butler, said he hated the hotel. Besides, he heard a man there abusing Marster, but Mr. Clyburne took it up and made him stop short. Armsted said he wanted Marster to know Mr. Clyburne was his friend and would let nobody say a word behind his back against him, etc., etc. Stay in Camden? Not if I can help it. “Festers in provincial sloth” — that's Tennyson's way of putting it.

“We” came down here by rail, as the English say. Such a crowd of Convention men on board. John Manning¹ flew in to beg me to reserve a seat by me for a young lady under his charge. “Place aux dames,” said my husband politely, and went off to seek a seat somewhere else. As soon as we were fairly under way, Governor Manning came back and threw himself cheerily down into the vacant place. After arranging his umbrella and overcoat to his satisfaction, he coolly remarked: “I am the young lady.” He is always the handsomest man alive (now that poor William Taber has been killed in a duel), and he can be very agreeable; that is, when he pleases to be so. He does not always please. He seemed to have made his little maneuver principally to warn me of impending danger to my husband's political career. “Every election now will be a surprise. New cliques are not formed yet. The old ones are principally bent upon displacing one another.” “But the Yankees — those dreadful Yankees!” “Oh, never mind, we are going to take care of home folks first! How will you like to rusticate? — go back and mind your own business?” “If I only knew what that was — what was my own business.”

Our round table consists of the Judge, Langdon Cheves,² Trescott,³ and ourselves. Here are four of the cleverest men that we have, but such very different people, as opposite in every characteristic as the four points of the compass. Langdon Cheves and my husband have feelings and ideas in common. Mr. Petigru⁴ said of the brilliant Trescott: “He is a man without indignation.” Trescott and I laugh at everything.

The Judge, from his life as solicitor, and then on the bench, has learned to look for the darkest motives for every action. His judgment on men and things is always so harsh, it shocks and repels even his best friends. To-day he said: “Your conversation reminds me of a flashy second-rate novel.” “How?” “By the quantity of French you sprinkle over it. Do you wish to prevent us from understanding you?” “No,” said Trescott, “we are using French against Africa. We know the black waiters are all ears now, and we want to keep what we have to say dark. We can't afford to take them into our confidence, you know.”

This explanation Trescott gave with great rapidity and many gestures toward the men standing behind us. Still speaking the French language, his apology was exasperating, so the Judge glared at him, and, in unabated rage, turned to talk with Mr. Cheves, who found it hard to keep a calm countenance. On the Battery with the Rutledges, Captain Hartstein was introduced to me. He has done some heroic things — brought home some ships and is a man of mark. Afterward he sent me a beautiful bouquet, not half so beautiful, however, as Mr. Robert Gourdin's, which already occupied the place of honor on my center table. What a dear, delightful place is Charleston!  A lady (who shall be nameless because of her story) came to see me to-day. Her husband has been on the Island with the troops for months. She has just been down to see him. She meant only to call on him, but he persuaded her to stay two days. She carried him some clothes made from his old measure. Now they are a mile too wide. “So much for a hard life!” I said.  “No, no,” said she, “they are all jolly down there. He has trained down; says it is good for him, and he likes the life.” Then she became confidential, although it was her first visit to me, a perfect stranger. She had taken no clothes down there — pushed, as she was, in that manner under Achilles’s tent. But she managed things; she tied her petticoat around her neck for a nightgown.

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¹ John Lawrence Manning was a son of Richard I. Manning, a former Governor of South Carolina. He was himself elected Governor of that State in 1852, was a delegate to the convention that nominated Buchanan, and during the War of Secession served on the staff of General Beauregard. In 1865 he was chosen United States Senator from South Carolina, but was not allowed to take his seat.

² Son of Langdon Cheves, an eminent lawyer of South Carolina, who served in Congress from 1810 to 1814; he was elected Speaker of the House of Representatives, and from 1819 to 1823 was President of the United States Bank; he favored Secession, but died before it was accomplished — in 1857.

³ William Henry Trescott, a native of Charleston, was Assistant Secretary of State of the United States in 1860, but resigned after South Carolina seceded. After the war he had a successful career as a lawyer and diplomatist.

⁴ James Louis Petigru before the war had reached great distinction as a lawyer and stood almost alone in his State as an opponent of the Nullification movement of 1830-1832. In 1860 he strongly opposed disunion, although he was then an old man of 71. His reputation has survived among lawyers because of the fine work he did in codifying the laws of South Carolina.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 22-5

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 26, 1861

CHARLESTON, S. C. — I have just come from Mulberry, where the snow was a foot deep — winter at last after months of apparently May or June weather. Even the climate, like everything else, is upside down. But after that den of dirt and horror, Montgomery Hall, how white the sheets looked, luxurious bed linen once more, delicious fresh cream with my coffee! I breakfasted in bed. Dueling was rife in Camden. William M. Shannon challenged Leitner. Rochelle Blair was Shannon's second and Artemus Goodwyn was Leitner's. My husband was riding hard all day to stop the foolish people. Mr. Chesnut finally arranged the difficulty. There was a court of honor and no duel. Mr. Leitner had struck Mr. Shannon at a negro trial. That's the way the row began. Everybody knows of it. We suggested that Judge Withers should arrest the belligerents. Dr. Boykin and Joe Kershaw¹ aided Mr. Chesnut to put an end to the useless risk of life. John Chesnut is a pretty soft-hearted slave-owner. He had two negroes arrested for selling whisky to his people on his plantation, and buying stolen corn from them. The culprits in jail sent for him. He found them (this snowy weather) lying in the cold on a bare floor, and he thought that punishment enough; they having had weeks of it. But they were not satisfied to be allowed to evade justice and slip away. They begged of him (and got) five dollars to buy shoes to run away in. I said: “Why, this is flat compounding a felony.” And Johnny put his hands in the armholes of his waistcoat and stalked majestically before me, saying, “Woman, what do you know about law?”

Mrs. Reynolds stopped the carriage one day to tell me Kitty Boykin was to be married to Savage Heyward. He has only ten children already. These people take the old Hebrew pride in the number of children they have. This is the true colonizing spirit. There is no danger of crowding here and inhabitants are wanted. Old Colonel Chesnut² said one day: “Wife, you must feel that you have not been useless in your day and generation. You have now twenty-seven great-grandchildren.”

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¹ Joseph B. Kershaw, a native of Camden, S. C, who became famous in connection with "The Kershaw Brigade" and its brilliant record at Bull Run, Fredericksburg, Chickamauga, Spottsylvania, and elsewhere throughout the war.

² Colonel Chesnut, the author's father-in-law, was born about 1760. He was a prominent South Carolina planter and a public-spirited man. The family had originally settled in Virginia, where the farm had been overrun by the French and Indians at the time of Braddock's campaign, the head of the family being killed at Fort Duquesne. Colonel Chesnut, of Mulberry, had been educated at Princeton, and his wife was a Philadelphia woman. In the final chapter of this Diary, the author gives a charming sketch of Colonel Chesnut.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 21-2

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 1, 1861

Dined to-day with Mr. Hill¹ from Georgia, and his wife. After he left us she told me he was the celebrated individual who, for Christian scruples, refused to fight a duel with Stephens.² She seemed very proud of him for his conduct in the affair. Ignoramus that I am, I had not heard of it. I am having all kinds of experiences. Drove to-day with a lady who fervently wished her husband would go down to Pensacola and be shot. I was dumb with amazement, of course. Telling my story to one who knew the parties, was informed, “Don't you know he beats her?” So I have seen a man “who lifts his hand against a woman in aught save kindness.”

Brewster says Lincoln passed through Baltimore disguised, and at night, and that he did well, for just now Baltimore is dangerous ground. He says that he hears from all quarters that the vulgarity of Lincoln, his wife, and his son is beyond credence, a thing you must see before you can believe it. Senator Stephen A. Douglas told Mr. Chesnut that “Lincoln is awfully clever, and that he had found him a heavy handful.”

Went to pay my respects to Mrs. Jefferson Davis. She met me with open arms. We did not allude to anything by which we are surrounded. We eschewed politics and our changed relations.

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¹ Benjamin H. Hill, who had already been active in State and National affairs when the Secession movement was carried through. He had been an earnest advocate of the Union until in Georgia the resolution was passed declaring that the State ought to secede. He then became a prominent supporter of secession. He was a member of the Confederate Congress, which met in Montgomery in 1861, and served in the Confederate Senate until the end of the war. After the war, he was elected to Congress and opposed the Reconstruction policy of that body. In 1877 he was elected United States Senator from Georgia.

² Governor Herschel V. Johnson also declined, and doubtless for similar reasons, to accept a challenge from Alexander H. Stephens, who, though endowed with the courage of a gladiator, was very small and frail.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 11-2