Vienna, February 17, 1863.
My Dearest Little Mary: I
hope that you will accept this note from me as the family contribution for
to-day.
I assure you, when
you know Vienna as well as we do, you will agree that to screw out a letter
once a week is a KunststΓΌck to be proud of. I
can't very well write to you, as I write to the State Department, about the
movements in Montenegro, the Polish insurrection, or the Prussian-French treaty
of commerce, although I dare say these things would amuse you about as much as
they do the people at Washington just now, where they have so much other fish
to fry. To-day is the last day of the carnival, which we celebrate by remaining
calmly within doors in the bosom of our respected family. The great ball at
Prince Schwarzenberg's took place last Sunday, so that we were obliged
respectfully but firmly to decline. Soon begins the season of “salons.” Now, if
there is one thing more distasteful to me than a ball, it is a salon. Of course
I don't object to young people liking to dance, and the few balls in the great
houses here are as magnificent festivals as could be got up anywhere, and Lily
had always plenty of partners and danced to her heart's content,
notwithstanding that nearly all the nice youths of the French and English
embassies have been transplanted to other realms. But I think that no
reasonable being ought to like a salon. There are three topics — the
Opera, the Prater, the Burg Theater; when these are exhausted, you are floored.
Conversazioni where the one thing that does not exist is conversation are not
the most cheerful of institutions.
The truth is that
our hostile friends the English spoil me for other society. There is nothing
like London or England in the social line on the Continent. The Duke of Argyll
writes to me pretty constantly, and remains a believer in the justice of our
cause, although rather desponding as to the issue; and Mr. John Stuart Mill,
who corresponds with me regularly and is as enthusiastic as I am, tells me that
the number of men who agree with him in wishing us success is daily increasing.
Among others he mentioned our old friend the distinguished Dr. Whewell, Master
of Trinity (with whom we stayed three days at Cambridge when I received my
degree there), who, he says, is positively rude to those who talk against the
North. He won't allow the “Times” to come into the house. Well, I hope the
recent and remarkable demonstrations in England will convince the true lovers
of union and liberty in America where our true strength lies, and who our true
lovers are.
We have given four
diplomatic dinners. The last was five days ago. Sixteen guests, beginning with
Count Rechberg and the Prince and Princess Callimaki (Turkish ambassador), and
ending with a French and Belgian attache or two. The French and English
ambassadors and secretaries dined with us the week before. I think we shall
give no more at present, unless we have a smaller one, to which we shall invite
the Rothschild of the period, as we have had several good dinners at his house.
I am very glad that you are to dine with Mrs. Amory to meet General McClellan.
We feel very grateful to Mr. and Mrs. Amory and S—— for their kindness to you.
Pray never forget to give all our loves to them. Did Mrs. Amory ever get a
letter I wrote her? Its date was May 12. Pray remember us most kindly to Mr.
and Mrs. Ritchie. I am so glad that you have been seeing so much of them
lately. It is impossible for you not to be fond of them when you know them. Give
my love also to Miss “Pussie,” and to my Nahant contemporary, who I hope
continues on the rampage as delightfully as ever. You will tell us, of course,
what impression General McClellan makes upon you. Personally there seems much
that is agreeable, almost fascinating, about him. I only saw him for a single
moment, but was much impressed by his manner. I wish it had been his destiny to
lead our armies to victory, for I don't see that we have any better man. But no
one man will ever end this war except he be an abolitionist heart and soul, and
a man of military genius besides.
Things have gone a
million miles beyond compromise. Pray tell me what you learn of Hooker.
We all join in
kindest love to you, my darling, and to your grandmama and grandpapa, and all
at home.
Your ever-affectionate
P. G.
SOURCE: George
William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in
Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 314-6