Senator Henry Clay to James B. Clay, January 2, 1849

WASHINGTON, January 2, 1849.

MY DEAR SON,—I received your letter of the 27th November, and I was happy to hear of the continued health of Susan and your children, and especially that she had so easy an accouchement. That was the result of her previous exercise and the climate of Lisbon.

I am sorry to hear of the bad prospect of your getting our claims satisfied. I wrote you a few days ago, giving a long account of an interview which I had with the Portuguese minister, etc., about the case of the General Armstrong. In the course of it, he told me that he thought some of our claims were just, and so did the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and that they would be paid. If we are to come to any appeal to force, perhaps it will be as well that they should reject them all, those which are clearly just as well as those which are contestable. But, as it would be a feather in your cap, I should like that you would get them all owned, or as many as you can.

The minister told me that the owners of the General Armstrong demanded $250,000. That sum strikes me to be erroneous. If they agree to admit the claim, you might stipulate to have the amount fixed by some commission; or, which would be better, if the owners have an agent at Lisbon, you might get him to fix the very lowest sum which they would be willing to receive, which might not exceed one fifth of the sum demanded.

I mentioned confidentially to Sir H. Bulwer, the British minister, my apprehensions of a difficulty with Portugal, and he said he would write to Lord Palmerston, and suggest to him to interpose his good offices, etc. He told me that a brother of Lord Morpeth was the British Chargé at Portugal. If he resembles his brother, you will find him a clever fellow.

No certain developments are yet made of what Congress may do on the subject of slavery. I think there is a considerable majority in the House, and probably one in the Senate, in favor of the Wilmot proviso. I have been thinking much of proposing some comprehensive scheme of settling amicably the whole question, in all its bearings; but I have not yet positively determined to do so. Meantime some of the Hotspurs of the South are openly declaring themselves for a dissolution of the Union, if the Wilmot proviso be adopted. This sentiment of disunion is more extensive than I had hoped, but I do not regard it as yet alarming. It does not reach many of the Slave States.

You complain of not hearing from Kentucky. I have the same complaint. I have not received a letter from John for a long time. My last was from Thomas, of the 18th ult. They were then all well.

I am glad to hear that Henry is placed at school, but am sorry that his defects continue to display themselves. We must hope that he will correct them as he grows older, and in the mean time console ourselves that his faults are not worse than they are.

My love to Susan, the boys, and your children.

SOURCE: Calvin Colton, Editor, The Private Correspondence of Henry Clay, p. 582-3

James B. Clay to Senator Henry Clay, May 26, 1850

LISBON, May 26, 1850.

MY DEAR FATHER,—You can not imagine in what a state of uncertainty, uneasiness, and expectation, we have been during this entire month. I had been informed by Mr. Clayton that it was the opinion of the Secretary of the Navy that the ship from the Mediterranean, with my final instructions, would reach here by the 1st of this month, and it is now nearly the last, and it has not arrived. I have seen by the English papers that the storeship Erie, which, I presume, took Commodore Morgan his orders, was lying, with the commodore, in the harbor of Naples, on the 27th last month, in fifteen days after he ought to have been here; why he is not, God only knows. I have been constantly uneasy for fear that his non-arrival might prejudice the settlement of our affairs; and if this Government had a grain of common sense, it would have done so very much. Their true policy, having determined not to pay, was most certainly to offer an arbitration of all the claims, and I have been every instant fearing that such an offer would be made; a rejection of it, which I would have to make, would, of course, have put us in a worse position before the world.

The English Chargé, Mr. Howard, the brother of the Earl of Carlisle, told me the other day, that Mr. Bulwer had written to Lord Palmerston, as he promised you, to advise these people to pay all the claims which were just, and to offer to arbitrate the others; and I presume he did so, for Mr. Howard told me, at the same time, that Count Fayal had informed him that he had offered to arbitrate all. This impression he has been for some time trying to create, through the papers and otherwise. You may have seen an article in "The London Times" speaking of my rejection of the offer, etc.; this, I know, was denied from Fayal, who shows every thing to the correspondent of that paper. Lord Palmerston has very little influence here. He has been always opposed to the Cabral Ministry, and there is no goodwill between them. I took occasion to inform Mr. Howard, that it was wholly untrue that Count Fayal had offered to arbitrate all our claims, and said that I had no objection to his so informing his Government.

I can not predict what will be the effect produced by the coming of the ship, if ever she does arrive, or of my demand for my passport, if they don't pay. Our action has, throughout the affair, been so dilatory, that I am sure it can not have so great influence as promptness would have done. It has always been my opinion that I ought to have been sent here in a ship of war, with the same instructions given at last. Our position at the time of my arrival was by all odds better than it is now.

Should we be suffered to go away, I am undetermined whether we shall go to Naples and to Paris, through Italy and Switzerland, or go at once to Paris. I shall be determined by Commodore Morgan's course. If he offers to take us to Naples, as it will not be out of his way, I shall accept. If we go that way, we will still reach America in November.

As the season has arrived for Southerners to be in Kentucky, perhaps my house could now be sold. I should like it to be; as on our return home, if you won't sell me Ashland, I am determined to try and buy Crutchfield's place on the Ohio. Can you write to Trotter or Pindell about the house?

28th.—Commodore Morgan has not arrived, and I am in hourly expectation of receiving, what I feared I should receive, a proposition to arbitrate all the claims. I dined last night with the Duke of Leuchtenberg, the son-in-law of the Emperor of Russia, at the Russian Legation, when the Minister asked if I had received such a proposition, as Count Fayal had told him he intended to make it. He seemed surprised when I told him I had not. I shall regret to receive it, because I think my instructions will oblige me to reject it, and I know it will place us in a worse position before the world. Either Commodore Morgan has had orders of which I was not informed, or he has not been as active as he might, and ought to have been.

Nine o'clock at night.—I have just received a note from the Minister, stating the willingness of his Government to arbitrate all the claims, but as he rejects the last of them in the same note, and as his language is not a distinct proposition to arbitrate, I shall not so consider it.

We are all well, and Susan joins me in affectionate love to you.

SOURCE: Calvin Colton, Editor, The Private Correspondence of Henry Clay, p. 607-9

Senator Henry Clay to James Clay, March 13, 1850

WASHINGTON, March 13, 1850.

MY DEAR JAMES,—I have just received your favor of the 8th ultimo. I suppose that the bad state of things here has prevented Clayton from writing to you, and probably prevented the Executive from calling the particular attention of Congress to Portuguese affairs.

You will do well, if any arrangement can be effected of any of our claims, to obtain the written concurrence of the agents of the claimants, if they have any agents near you. And if none, and a real doubt and difficulty occur, not covered by your instructions, you had better take the matter ad referendum to your own Government.

We are still in the woods here, on the Slavery question, and I don't know when we shall get out of them. Bad feelings have diminished, without our seeing, however, land. All other business is superseded or suspended. I do not absolutely despair of a settlement on the basis of my resolutions.

My information from home is good. All are well there. Thomas continues to be encouraged by the prospects of his sawmill, and other prospects.

Tell Susan that I read her letter with great interest, and I have sent it to her mother. Her interview with the Queen, with all its attending circumstances, was quite imposing. As her health is so good at Lisbon, I do not think that you should be in a hurry to return home, although whenever you do come we shall be most happy to see you. Henry Clay, Jr., remains at the Georgetown College.

I have seen a good deal of Sir Henry Bulwer and his lady, both of whom are intelligent and agreeable. He promised me, as I believe I informed you, to write to Lord Palmerston on our affairs with Portugal.

Give my love to Susan, to Lucy and all the children. Tell Susan that I will write to her when I can.

SOURCE: Calvin Colton, Editor, The Private Correspondence of Henry Clay, p. 602-3

Diary of George Mifflin Dallas, April 28, 1861

I have repeatedly observed on the utter impossibility of keeping a diary without long chasms. More than a month has gone by, and an eventful one, too, without my dotting a single item! I must brush up and try to preserve the features of my few days for remaining in this great country, which, while commanding my highest admiration, I find, after five years of trial, I do not and cannot like.

I went last night to Cambridge House. Lord Palmerston has emerged from the tortures of the gout, and is in admirable looks and spirits. He looks upon the exraordinary report of the bombardment for forty hours of and from Fort Sumter, without any one being hurt, as an absurdity which further news will clear up. Nothing else engaged the conversation of the whole company. Italy, Poland, Hungary, and Holstein all yield in interest to the drama thought to be now formally inaugurated in America. One gentleman confidently predicted that the Southerners would capture Washington and give the Northerners the severest thrashing they have ever had. Motley has worked himself into such a fever at the prospect that he says he can neither read nor write, and must go home.

SOURCE: George Mifflin Dallas, Diary of George Mifflin Dallas, While United States Minister to Russia 1837 to 1839, and to England 1856 to 1861, Volume 3, p. 442-3

Diary of George Mifflin Dallas, February 22, 1861

Just finished the Duke of Buckingham's two volumes on the “Courts and Cabinets of William IV and Victoria.” There is a curious note by the Marquis of L., which says that about 1845, "in a conversation at the drawing-room with Lord John Russell, Lord L. asked him what he seriously looked to in the present state of parties in the opposition, if Sir Robert Peel, in disgust, was forced to throw up the government. Lord J. replied, he looked only to an American Constitution for England." I make another extract, as it is one which harmonizes with my own judgment, and, coming from so stern a Tory as Buckingham, is probably just. "No fair critic of public men can deny that Lord Palmerston is a statesman of extraordinary resources. Indeed, his experience, his tact, his judgment, his inexhaustible good humour, and rare political sagacity, have maintained his party in power when blunders of every kind have most severely tried the patience of the nation."

SOURCE: George Mifflin Dallas, Diary of George Mifflin Dallas, While United States Minister to Russia 1837 to 1839, and to England 1856 to 1861, Volume 3, p. 437

John L. Motley to Lady William Russell, March 17, 1864

Vienna, March 17, 1864.

Dear Lady William: A thousand thanks for your letter, which gave us inexpressible delight, not alone for its wit and its wisdom, which would have made it charming to read even if it had been addressed to any one else, but because it brings a fresh assurance that we are not quite forgotten yet by one of whom we think and speak every day. I should write oftener, dear Lady William, but for two reasons: one, that I am grown such a dull and dismal eremite, although always in a crowd, that I consider it polizeiwidrig to expose any one to the contagion of such complaints; secondly, because yours is an answer to my last, after the interval of a year, and I never venture to write a second letter till the first one has been completed by its answer. It is an old superstition of mine that a correspondence can't go on one leg. I always think of letters in pairs, like scissors, inexpressibles, lovers, what you will. This is a serious statement, not an excuse, for I have often wished to write, and have been repelled by the thought. It was most charitable of you, therefore, to send me one of your green leaves fluttering out of the bowers of Mayfair as the first welcome harbinger of spring after this very fierce winter:

Frigora mitescunt zephyris: ver proterit restas.

How well I remember that sequestered village of Mayfair, and the charming simplicity of its unsophisticated population! “Auch ich war in Arcadien geboren.” I, too, once hired a house in Hertford Street, as you will observe. Would that I could walk out of it to No. 2 Audley Square, as it was once my privilege to do! I infer from what you say, and from what I hear others say, that you are on the whole better in regard to the consequences of that horrible accident in Rome, and I rejoice in the thought that you are enjoying so much, notwithstanding, for a most brilliant planetary system is plainly revolving around you, as the center of light and warmth. I am so glad you see so much of the Hugheses. They are among our eternal regrets. I echo everything you say about both, and am alternately jealous of them that they can see you every day, and almost envious of you for having so much of them. So you see that I am full of evil passions. Nevertheless, I shall ever love perfidious Albion for the sake of such friends as these, notwithstanding her high crimes and misdemeanors toward a certain republic in difficulties which shall be nameless. What can I say to you that can possibly amuse you from this place?

Perhaps I had better go into the haute politique. We live, of course, in an atmosphere of Schleswig-Holsteinismus, which is as good as a London fog in this dry climate. I don't attribute so much influence as you do to the “early associations with Hamlet on the British mind.” Rather do I think it an ancient instinct of the British mind to prefer a small power in that important little peninsula, that it may be perpetually under the British thumb. For myself, I take great comfort in being comparatively indifferent to the results of the contest. As to its being decided on the merits, that is of course out of the question. A war about Poland was saved, after a most heroic effusion of ink in all the chanceries of Europe, by knocking Poland on the head. And a war about Denmark may be saved by knocking Denmark on the head. As to the merits of Schleswig-Holstein, are there any? Considered as private property, these eligible little estates may be proved to belong to almost anybody. Early in the ninth century the sand-banks of the Elbe were incorporated in the Germanic empires, while those beyond the Eider were under the suzerainty of Denmark. In the first half of the eleventh century all Schleswig was Danish, and at the beginning of the thirteenth Holstein, including Lübeck and Dithmarschen, was incorporated in the kingdom of Denmark. Then there were revolutions, shindies of all kinds, republics, que sais-je? Then came 1460, the election of King Christian I. of Denmark as Duke of Schleswig-Holstein. There is much virtue in the hyphen. The patent of that excellent monarch is extant, written in choice Plattdeutsch, by which he declares the hyphen eternal. The provinces shall remain eternally together, undivided, says the patent. What a pity the king, too, couldn't have been eternal! The bon Roi d'Yvetot himself could n't have settled matters in his domain more comfortably for all future times.

But I forbear. Who can help approving the pluck with which little Denmark stands up to her two gigantic antagonists? But I am afraid there has been too much judicious bottle-holding. Anyhow, it is amusing to watch the chaos in the councils at Frankfort. The Diet is at its last gasp. Everybody has a different proposition of' “combination” to make every day; everybody is defeated, and yet there are no conquerors. The Bund means mischief, and wriggles about, full of the most insane excitement, to the thirty-fourth joint of its tail, but can do no harm to any one. Decidedly the poor old Bund is moribund. What do you think of your young friend Maximilian, Montezuma I.? I was never a great admirer of the much-admired sagacity of Louis Napoleon. But I have been forced to give in at last. The way in which he has bamboozled that poor young man is one of the neatest pieces of escamotage ever performed. If he does succeed in getting the archduke in, and his own troops out, and the costs of his expedition paid, certainly it will be a Kunststiick. The priest party, who called in the French, are now most furiously denouncing them, and swear that they have been more cruelly despoiled by them than by Juarez and his friends. So poor Maximilian will put his foot in a hornets' nest as soon as he gets there. Such a swarm of black, venomous insects haven't been seen since the good old days of the Inquisition. Now, irritare crabrones is a good rule, and so Max is to have the Pope's blessing before he goes. But if the priests are against him, and the Liberals are for a republic, who is for the empire?

Meantime he has had smart new liveries made at Brussels, to amaze the Mexican heart. Likewise he has been seen trying on an imperial crown of gilt pasteboard, to see in the glass if it is becoming. This I believe to be authentic. But I am told he hasn't got a penny. Louis Napoleon is squeezing everything out of him that he may have in prospect. In one of the collections of curiosities in Vienna there is a staff or scepter of Montezuma, but I believe his successor is not even to have that, which is, I think, unjust. The celebrated bed of roses is, however, airing for him, I doubt not. I put into this envelop a wedding-card of Rechberg and Bismarck,¹ which has been thought rather a good joke here, so much so as to be suppressed by the police. It has occurred to me, too, that it might amuse you to look over a few of the Vienna “Punches.” “Figaro” is the name of the chief Witzblatt here, and sometimes the fooling is good enough. The caricatures of Rechberg are very like; those of Bismarck less so.

Julian Fane has been shut up a good while, but, I am happy to say, is almost himself again. I saw him a few days ago, and he bid fair to be soon perfectly well, and he is as handsome and fascinating as ever. Dear Lady William, can't you send me your photograph? You promised it me many times. We have no picture of you of any kind. We should like much to have your three sons. We have one of Odo, however. Likewise we should exceedingly like to have one of Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, if you think you could get it for us, with his autograph written below. He once promised it. Will you remember us most sincerely and respectfully to him, and prefer this request? I shall venture also to ask you sometimes to give our earnest remembrances to Lord and Lady Palmerston. We never forget all their kindness to us. But if I begin to recall myself to the memory of those I never forget, I should fill another sheet, so I shall trust to you to do this to all who remember us. And pray do not forget us.

Most sincerely yours,

J. L. M.

_______________

¹ Caricature of the time.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley, Volume III, p. 9-14

John M. Forbes to Senator Charles Sumner, September 8, 1863

Naushon, September 8, 1863.

I hear you are to speak on foreign relations, — a delicate subject for a man in your position.

May I give you a hint? I hear from good authority that great doubt exists whether the English government will consider our prima facie case made out against the ironclads, and if not they will make no attempt to stop them.

It will not do, therefore, to say that the letting out of these vessels means war between us and England, for your saying so may make your prophecy into its fulfillment!

Of course, we must tell the English people how much the going out of these vessels will increase the danger of war, and try to wake them up to this danger, but we cannot afford to go to war yet, even for this. We are in a sad state of want of preparation for a war with a naval people. We must gain time, must wait, and even when ready must still hope to avoid the fatal necessity.

It is a great point that the “Times” backs up the Emancipation Society's petition; it shows which way Palmerston wishes the public mind turned; but it is not conclusive, and the whole subject needs the greatest caution, as far from threats as from any indication that we will submit.

Forgive me for ever seeming to preach to an adept like yourself; but I have been there and know the sensitiveness of the British people (even decent ones) to threats, and also the readiness of the government to avail of any appearance of weakness on our part to push us. . . .

I delight in the President's plain letter to plain people!¹

_______________

¹ See page 73.

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 2, p. 58-9

John M. Forbes, writing from London, after June 9, 1863

Among my London acquaintances was Mr. Edward Ellis, a member of Parliament himself, and, I think, with one or two sons also in that body. He was a friend and adherent of Palmerston, and, having a pecuniary interest in land on this side, was supposed to be very well posted about American affairs. It was just at the time the controversy was going on about the letter-bag of a steamer; it had been seized with the vessel, carrying a cargo of munitions of war, nominally to Mexico, but undoubtedly intended for the Texan rebels. The bag must have contained proof of this, but, being under the seals of the British post-office, was claimed by the British minister as sacred, and the dispute was going on as to what should be done with it; the condemnation of the vessel and cargo, amounting to a very large sum, depending a great deal upon the result. I was dining at Mr. Ellis's, and while we were standing before the fire, waiting for dinner to be announced, two or three of the younger members of Parliament came in and announced the “good news” that the letter-bags had been given up without being opened, which removed the danger of a rupture in the friendly relations between the United States and Great Britain. This was all very polite, Mr. Adams being present, and, as usual, silent. I could not help, however, saying a word to this effect: “I am very glad you like the news; but I hope you will remember one thing, that you are making a precedent which, in the long future, we intend to follow. You are now ready to introduce all possible privileges for neutrals in the carrying trade, but in the long run Great Britain is at war ten years while we are likely to be one; and whatever precedent you set now, we shall hold you to.”

*~*~*~*

Among the notable men that I met was an Hon. Mr. Berkeley, a queer little old man, who was known in Parliament as “single speech Berkeley,” and who every year brought up some radical proposition which was good-naturedly received and passed over, out of regard for his aristocratic connections and influence. I sat next him at a dinner given me by Captain Blakely, the gunmaker, and, with the usual reserve which I had to maintain in that hostile atmosphere, I said very little except upon general subjects; but as we were putting on our coats before going off, little Mr. Berkeley shook hands with me very warmly and said, “I hope you understand that I am entirely with you in your fight to put down the slaveholders.”

*~*~*~*

General Forbes was a very good-looking, middle-aged man at that time, and was very polite to me, taking me down to Aldershot to see a review of the British volunteers. We lunched with the mess, and then went to the field, where there was a great display of troops, and where I saw many celebrities of the Crimean war and the Indian mutiny. The review wound up with a sham fight, in the midst of which I had to start by cab to catch the train back to London to keep an engagement in the evening. The cabman at first refused to cross the field of battle, but under bribe or threat I managed to get him down to run the gauntlet of the advancing line, going between them and their objective point with the horse on the jump and the whole line apparently firing at us. It had all the effect of a real battle, — except the lead.

*~*~*~*

One project which we thought of at this time might have turned into great results if the Mexicans had had any minister or recognized agent in London. They were at open war with France, and it occurred to us that, if they would do towards France exactly what the rebel cruisers were doing against us, we should bring the European powers to a realizing sense of their misdeeds towards us. We discussed the question, and thought of lending to Mexico a few thousand dollars out of our resources to enable them to fit out cruisers in English ports to go into the Channel and destroy French ships, and to return to British ports to coal and recruit and get ready for other depredations; in fact repeating what was being done in British neutral ports against the United States. If some morning a Mexican cruiser had put into Plymouth after destroying a lot of French ships, the replies of the British Foreign Secretary to a powerful, warlike nation like France would have been very different from what they were saying to us, hampered as we were with our internal war; and, if they had treated France as they did us, war would have been the consequence in about twenty-four hours. But there was no Mexican minister or agent, and we could do nothing.

*~*~*~*

We were surprised at the house by being decorated in most wonderful crape round our hats, a heavy silk scarfs reaching almost to our feet, which were put over us by one of the servants, as we were to play the part of chief mourners. After the religious ceremonies at the house, we were ushered into carriages decorated in the same wonderful manner, and slowly drove through the streets, guarded by a lot of mutes in deep black, carrying halberds or poles behind the hearse. It looked as if they were guarding us to prevent our escape, as they walked along beside the carriage. After a dreary ride we came to the suburban cemetery and then left the carriages and surveyed the scene. The hearse was the principal object, being drawn by black horses and having tall, black plumes on each side. As we were waiting for it to come up, Mr. B., who was sincerely attached to his wife, but had a sense of humor, could not forbear a sort of apology, saying that he had tried to have it as private and inconspicuous as possible, but it was impossible to get away from the conventionality and pomp of a London funeral: he wished that the hearse could be transported to America and put at the head of the Union army; he was sure the rebels would be routed at once by its appearance! After a short service at the grave, Mr. Baring and I jumped into his cab, throwing off our insignia of mourning, which must have formed a valuable perquisite, — there being silk enough to make a cassock of, — and were soon driving rapidly to London.

*~*~*~*

During our stay in London we went to hear Mr. Cobden's great speech in the Commons. The House of Commons is a very different affair from our House of Representatives; indeed, it looks, at first sight, much more like one of our large committee rooms at the Capitol, or perhaps like the senate chamber there. Only a few strangers are admitted to what is called the speaker's gallery, and then only by special ticket from the speaker. When Cobden's speech was expected, considerable influence had to be used to get admittance. We learned that the speaker had in this case, when applied to, expressed fears that the two factions of Union and rebel (unrecognized) emissaries might be placed too near each other, and so we found much diplomacy had been expended in arranging seats to keep ourselves and Messrs. Mason and Slidell separated. The occasion was certainly a very memorable one, for Cobden's speech rang through Europe and America, and materially influenced the action of the English government. His manner was cold and somewhat hesitating, but he spoke with great force and sense, not mincing his phrases, against the backslidings of his countrymen; and his speech was all the more effective from his taking the stand for us, not (as Bright usually did) from an American point of view, but because he saw England's honor and interest imperiled by the short-sighted policy of Palmerston and Russell.

I think it was on the same night that Roebuck made a most malignant attack upon what he called the barbarism of the Federals in their cruel and atrocious proclamation of emancipation, “stimulating the subordinate race to make war against their superiors, and putting a premium on murder, rape, and robbery.” Monckton Milnes, the poet, whom I have since welcomed here as Lord Houghton, made a very pithy and spirited rejoinder to this diatribe, and quite won my heart.

*~*~*~*

We had come, also, prepared to do something in the way of enlightening the British public as to the real strength of the North, and the certainty of our ultimate success, but Mr. Adams thought it doubtful whether such a course would be wise; for if successful in our argument it might show the governing class in Europe that their only chance for breaking up the Union was in active interference; so that he thought it safer for them to be kept neutral by the belief that we were sure to break up.

*~*~*~*

I was requested to lead in to dinner his daughter-in-law, the wife of Mr. Nassau John Senior, who was very pleasant; but, knowing nothing about her, I refrained from talking upon any interesting subject, until she happened to say that her brother had just returned from France, and that she hoped I would see him. I then had to ask who her brother was, and found it was Tom Hughes. “Why,” said I, “he is the one man I wanted to see; I thought he was ill, and that I should go home without seeing him.” I was going to start in a few days for Liverpool, and she very warmly insisted that I should see her brother, and accordingly asked him for an appointment. When I called at his office in Old Square, Lincoln's Inn, I found my good friend Tom Hughes, genial and pleasant as he is to-day. I need hardly say that the remainder of my evening with Mrs. Senior at the dinner party was very much more delightful than at the beginning, as it was like finding a warm friend in the midst of an enemy's camp.

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 2, p. 31-8

John L. Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, March 28, 1863

Vienna,

March 28, 1863.

My Dearest Mother: . . . As to your making yourself out so very old, I can't admit that when I see, for example, Lord Palmerston, who is ever so many years older than you, in his eightieth year in fact, shouldering the whole British Empire, and making a joke of it. Our climate, too, so trying to the young, I believe to be exceedingly beneficial to those more advanced in years. Only do go to Nahant next summer; I am sure that the air and sight of that sea-beaten promontory is to you an elixir of youth.

I have little to say of our goings-on here. Lent, which has succeeded a dancing carnival, has been pretty well filled up every evening with soirees. Baron Sina, the minister of the defunct kingdom of Greece, an enormously wealthy man, has given a series of evening parties, in which there was always music by the Italian operatic artists now performing in Vienna. We had Patti last week, who sang delightfully. She has made quite a furore in this place. We have only heard her at the theater once. She is not at the Imperial Opera, where we have a box, but at a smaller one, and the price is altogether too large, as one is obliged to subscribe for the whole engagement. I hope to get a box, however, for next Saturday night, when she is to play Lucia; and this will be sufficient for us. We dined with a large party three days ago at the same Baron Sina's expressly to meet Patti. We had previously dined with her at Baron Rothschild's. She is a dear little unsophisticated thing, very good, and very pretty and innocent. She considers herself as an American, and sang “Home, Sweet Home,” after dinner the other day, because she said she was sure we should like to hear it, and she sang it most delightfully.

Last Wednesday night we gave a great squash of our own. It was our first attempt in the evening-party line, and we were a little nervous about it. You know you don't send out written invitations and receive answers. You merely send a couple of days before a verbal invitation through a servant, without any chance of a reply. At a quarter before ten there were not a dozen people in our rooms, and we began to feel a little fidgety, although we knew the regular habits of the people. But in ten minutes the house was crowded. It was considered a most successful squeeze. All the Liechtensteins, Esterhazys, Trauttmansdorffs, and the other great families of Vienna, together with nearly the whole diplomatic corps, were present, and seemed to amuse themselves as well as at other parties. Talking the same talk with the same people, drinking the same tea and lemonade, and eating the same ices as at other houses, there is no reason why they should not have amused themselves as well. The young ladies are a power in Vienna. At every “rout,” or evening reception, they always have one of the rooms to themselves, which is called the Comtessen Zimmer (no young lady in this society being supposed to be capable of a lower rank than countess), and where they chatter away with their beaus, and sometimes arrange their quadrilles and waltzes for the balls of a year ahead.

Nothing can be more charming than the manners of the Austrian aristocracy, both male and female. It is perfect nature combined with high breeding. A characteristic of it is the absence of that insolence on the one side and of snobbishness on the other which are to be found in nearly all other societies. This arises from the fact that the only passport to the upper society is pedigree, an unquestionable descent on both sides of the house from nobility of many generations. Without this passport a native might as well think of getting into the moon as getting into society. Therefore the society is very small, not more than three hundred or so, all very much intermarried and related; everybody knows everybody, so that pushing is impossible, and fending off unnecessary. The diplomatic corps move among it, of course, officially. They are civil to us, and invite us to their great parties, and come to our houses. As a spectacle of men and women, and how they play their parts, as Washington Irving used to say, I have no objection to spending my evenings thus for a small portion of the year. It does not interfere with my solid work during the daytime. English society is very interesting, because anybody who has done anything noteworthy may be seen in it. But if an Austrian should be Shakspere, Galileo, Nelson, and Raphael all in one, he couldn't be admitted into good society in Vienna unless he had the sixteen quarterings of nobility which birth alone could give him. Naturally it is not likely to excite one's vanity that one goes as a minister where as an individual he would find every door shut against him. But in the way of duty it is important to cultivate social relations where one is placed, and in these times I am desirous that the American legation should be in a line with other missions. Fortunately, evening entertainments only cost the wax candles and the lemonade.

There is not much in this letter, my dear mother, to interest you. But I thought it better to talk of things around me instead of sending my disquisitions about American affairs, in regard to which I am so unfortunate as to differ from those whom you are in the habit of talking with. Best love to my father and all at home.

Ever your most affectionate son,

J. L. M.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 322-5

Diary of Gideon Welles: Friday, December 25, 1863

Edgar returned from college; arrived at midnight. Greetings full, hearty, and cordial this morning. For a week preparations for the festival have been going on. Though a joyful anniversary, the day in these later years always brings sad memories. The glad faces and loving childish voices that cheered our household with “Merry Christmas” in years gone by are silent on earth forever.

Sumner tells me that France is still wrong-headed, or, more properly speaking, the Emperor is. Mercier is going home on leave, and goes with a bad spirit. S. and M. had a long interview a few days since, when S. drew M. out. Mercier said the Emperor was kindly disposed and at the proper time would tender kind offices to close hostilities, but that a division of the Union is inevitable. Sumner said he snapped his fingers at him and told him he knew not our case.

Sumner also tells me of a communication made to him by Bayard Taylor, who last summer had an interview with the elder Saxe-Coburg. The latter told Taylor that Louis Napoleon was our enemy, — that the Emperor said to him (Saxe-Coburg), “There will be war between England and America” — slapping his hands — “and I can then do as I please.”

There is no doubt that both France and England have expected certain disunion and have thought there might be war between us and one or more of the European powers. But England has latterly held back, and is becoming more disinclined to get in difficulty with us. A war would be depressing to us, but it would be, perhaps, as injurious to England. Palmerston and Louis Napoleon are the two bad men in this matter. The latter is quite belligerent in his feelings, but fears to be insolent towards us unless England is also engaged.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 494-5

Diary of Gideon Welles: Wednesday, September 30, 1863

I am warned and admonished in various quarters that Laird's vessel is about to make a trial trip, and that it will extend across the Atlantic. My omission to make preparations is stigmatized as negligence, indifference, and worse.

Am sorry Seward treats the subject so gingerly. When Palmerston or Earl Russell prates about their foreign enlistment act, and that it is uncertain whether the law has really been violated by Laird, Americans must be provoked. If their municipal legislation is weak and inefficient, why is it not corrected? There are international obligations which cannot be disregarded. Let us have good faith, peace or war!

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 448

Diary of Gideon Welles: Monday, July 27, 1863

Had a strange letter from Senator John P. Hale, protesting against the appointment of Commodore Van Brunt to the command of the Portsmouth Navy Yard, because he and V. B. are not on friendly terms. He wishes me to become a party to a personal controversy and to do injustice to an officer for the reason that he and that officer are not in cordial relations. The pretensions and arrogance of Senators become amazing, and this man, or Senator, would carry his private personal disagreement into public official actions. Such are his ideas of propriety and Senatorial privilege and power that he would not only prostitute public duty to gratify his private resentment, but he would have the Department debased into an instrument to minister to his enmities.

I have never thought of appointing Van Brunt to that yard, but had I intended it, this protest could in no wise prevent or influence me. With more propriety, I could request the Senate not to make Hale Chairman of the Naval Committee, for in the entire period of my administration of the Navy Department, I have never received aid, encouragement, or assistance of any kind whatever from the Chairman of the Naval Committee of the Senate, but constant, pointed opposition, embarrassment, and petty annoyance, of which this hostility to Van Brunt is a specimen. But I have not, and shall not, ask the Senate to remove this nuisance out of their way and out of my way. They have witnessed his conduct and know his worthlessness in a business point of view; they know what is due to the country and to themselves, as well as to the Navy Department.

The Mexican Republic has been extinguished and an empire has risen on its ruins. But for this wicked rebellion in our country this calamity would not have occurred. Torn by factions, down-trodden by a scheming and designing priesthood, ignorant and vicious, the Mexicans are incapable of good government, and unable to enjoy rational freedom. But I don't expect an improvement of their condition under the sway of a ruler imposed upon them by Louis Napoleon.

The last arrivals bring us some inklings of the reception of the news that has begun to get across the Atlantic of our military operations. John Bull is unwilling to relinquish the hope of our national dismemberment. There is, on the part of the aristocracy of Great Britain, malignant and disgraceful hatred of our government and people. In every way that they could, and dare, they have sneakingly aided the Rebels. The tone of their journals shows a reluctance to believe that we have overcome the Rebels, or that we are secure in preserving the Union. The Battle of Gettysburg they will not admit to have been disastrous to Lee, and they represent it as of little importance compared with Vicksburg and Port Hudson, which they do not believe can be taken. Palmerston and Louis Napoleon are as much our enemies as Jeff Davis.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 384-5

John L. Motley to Baron von Bismarck, August 29, 1862

Legation of the United States of America, Vienna,

August 29, 1862.

My Dear Bismarck: I have been at this point now about eight months, and ever since I came here I have been most desirous of opening communications with you. But for a long time you seemed to be so much on the move between Berlin, Petersburg, and Paris that even if I should succeed in getting a letter to you, it appears doubtful whether I should be lucky enough to receive a reply.

Perhaps I shall be more successful now, for the newspapers inform me that you are in some watering-place in the south of France. So I shall write but a very brief note, merely to express my great desire to hear from you again, and my hope that in an idle moment, if you ever have such, you will send me a line to tell me of yourself, your prosperity, and of your wife and children.

Pray give my sincerest regards to Madame de Bismarck, and allow me to add those of my wife, although personally still unknown to you both, alas!

I don't know whether you have observed in any newspapers that I was appointed about a year ago minister plenipotentiary, etc., to this court. I arrived here from America about the beginning of November. I much fear that this is the very last place in Europe where I shall ever have the good luck of seeing you. Nevertheless, whether you remain in Paris or go — as seems most likely from all I can gather from private and public sources — to Berlin this autumn to form a ministry, in either case there is some chance of our meeting some time or other, while there would have been none so long as you remained in St. Petersburg. Pray let me have a private line from you; you can't imagine how much pleasure it will give me. My meeting with you in Frankfort, and thus renewing the friendship of our youth, will remain one of the most agreeable and brightest chapters in my life. And it is painful to think that already that renewed friendship is beginning to belong to the past, and that year after year is adding a fold to the curtain.

However, you must write to me, and tell me where we can all meet next summer, if no sooner. I wish you would let me know whether and how soon you are to make a cabinet in Berlin. Remember that when you write to me it is as if you wrote to some one in the planet Jupiter. Personally, I am always deeply interested in what concerns you. But, publicly, I am a mere spectator of European affairs, and wherever and whatever my sympathies in other times than these might be, I am too entirely engrossed with the portentous events now transacting in my own country to be likely to intermeddle or make mischief in the doings of this hemisphere, save in so far as they may have bearing on our own politics. You can say anything you like to me, then, as freely as when you were talking to me in your own house.

The cardinal principle of American diplomacy has always been to abstain from all intervention or participation in European affairs. This has always seemed to me the most enlightened view to take of our exceptional, and therefore fortunate, political and geographical position. I need not say how earnest we are in maintaining that principle at this moment, when we are all determined to resist to the death any interference on the part of Europe in our affairs.

I wish, by the way, you would let me know anything you can pick up in regard to the French emperor's intentions or intrigues in regard to our civil war.

Of course I don't suggest to you for an instant any violation of confidence, but many things might be said with great openness to you that would not, from reserve or politeness or a hundred other reasons, be said to an American diplomatist.

I suppose there is no doubt whatever that L. N. has been perpetually, during the last six months, provoking, soliciting, and teasing the English cabinet to unite with him in some kind of intervention, and that the English ministers have steadily refused to participate in the contemplated crime. Of course they know and we know that intervention means war with the United States government and people on behalf of the rebel slaveholders; but I have very good reason to know that the English government refuse, and that Lord Palmerston even ridicules the idea as preposterous. Not that the English love us. On the contrary, they hate us, but they can't understand how it will help the condition of their starving populations in the manufacturing districts to put up the price of cotton five hundred per cent., which a war with America would do, and to cause an advance in corn in the same proportion. There is no doubt whatever that the harvest in England is a very bad one, and that they must buy some thirty million sterling worth of foreign corn. On the other hand, the harvest in America is the most fruitful ever known since that continent was discovered.

Unless lunatics were at the head of affairs in England, they would not seize the opportunity of going to war with the granary of corn and cotton without a cause.

But it may be different with France. She is fond of la Gloire. And she is sending out an expedition to Mexico, although she seems likely to have her hands full in Italy just now. Moreover, L. N. is the heaven appointed arbiter of all sublunary affairs, and he doubtless considers it his mission to “save civilization” in our continent, as he has so often been good enough to do in the rest of the world.

What do you think is his real design? How far do you believe he has gone in holding out definite encouragement to the secessionist agents in France? Do you think he has any secret plot with them to assist them against us in the Gulf of Mexico? Will he attempt anything of this kind without the knowledge and connivance of England? I say no more except to repeat that you may give me, perhaps, a useful hint or two, from time to time, of what you hear and know. It is unnecessary for me to say that I shall keep sacredly confidential anything you may say to me as such.

I shall not go into the subject of our war at all, save to say that it is to me an inconceivable idea that any man of average intellect or love of right can possibly justify this insurrection of the slaveholders. The attempt to destroy a prosperous, powerful, and happy commonwealth like ours, merely that on its ruin might be constructed a slave-breeding, slave-holding confederacy, is one of the greatest crimes that history has recorded. In regard to the issue of the war I don't entertain the slightest doubt, if foreign interference is kept off. If the slaveholders obtain the alliance of France, the war will of course be indefinitely protracted. If we are left to ourselves, I think with the million of men that we shall have in the field in the course of the month of October, and with a fleet of twelve or fifteen first-class iron-clad frigates, which will be ready by that time, that the insurrection cannot hold out a great while longer. However, of that I am not sure. Time is nothing to God — nor to the devil either, as to that matter. We mortals, creatures of a day, are very impatient. The United States government is now fighting with the devil, for the spirit of this slave Confederacy is nothing less. How long it will take us to vanquish it I know not. But that it will be vanquished completely I entertain no doubt whatever. I don't expect you to accept my views, but I thought it as well to state them. I am more anxious about the next three months than about anything that can happen afterward. Let me, however, warn you — in case you take an interest in the progress of our affairs — not to believe in Reuter's telegrams as in the London “Times.” Their lies are stupendous, and by them public opinion all over Europe is poisoned. This is nothing to me. Their lies can't alter the facts — I have other sources of information. But when I see how the telegraph and the European press have been constantly worked for the interest of the secessionists, it does not surprise me to see the difficulty which honest people have in arriving at the truth, either in fact or in theory. Do you know your colleague, Mr. Dayton, United States Minister in Paris? Let me recommend him to you as a most excellent and honorable man. Renewing all our kindest regards to you and yours, believe me, my dear Bismarck, always most sincerely your old friend,

J. L. Motley.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 271-6

Diary of Sarah Morgan: July 4, 1862

Here I am, and still alive, having wakened but once in the night, and that only in consequence of Louis and Morgan crying; nothing more alarming than that. I ought to feel foolish; but I do not. I am glad I was prepared, even though there was no occasion for it.

While I was taking my early bath, Lilly came to the bath-house and told me through the weatherboarding of another battle. Stonewall Jackson has surrounded McClellan completely, and victory is again ours. This is said to be the sixth battle he has fought in twenty days, and they say he has won them all. And the Seventh Regiment distinguished itself, and was presented with four cannon on the battlefield in acknowledgment of its gallant conduct! Gibbes belongs to the “ragged howling regiment that rushed on the field yelling like unchained devils and spread a panic through the army,” as the Northern papers said, describing the battle of Manassas. Oh, how I hope he has escaped!

And they say “Palmerston has urged the recognition of the Confederacy, and an armed intervention on our side.” Would it not be glorious? Oh, for peace, blessed peace, and our brothers once more! Palmerston is said to have painted Butler as the vilest oppressor, and having added he was ashamed to acknowledge him of Anglo-Saxon origin. Perhaps knowing the opinion entertained of him by foreign nations, caused Butler to turn such a somersault. For a few days before his arrival here, we saw a leading article in the leading Union paper of New Orleans, threatening us with the arming of the slaves for our extermination if England interfered, in the same language almost as Butler used when here; three days ago the same paper ridiculed the idea, and said such a brutal, inhuman thing was never for a moment thought of, it was too absurd. And so the world goes! We all turn somersaults occasionally.

And yet, I would rather we would achieve our independence alone, if possible. It would be so much more glorious. And then I would hate to see England conquer the North, even if for our sake; my love for the old Union is still too great to be willing to see it so humiliated. If England would just make Lincoln come to his senses, and put an end to all this confiscation which is sweeping over everything, make him agree to let us alone and behave himself, that will be quite enough. But what a task! If it were put to the vote to-morrow to return free and unmolested to the Union, or stay out, I am sure Union would have the majority; but this way, to think we are to be sent to Fort Jackson and all the other prisons for expressing our ideas, however harmless, to have our houses burned over our heads, and all the prominent men hanged, who would be eager for it? — unless, indeed, it was to escape even the greater horrors of a war of extermination.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 102-4

Francis Lieber to Senator Chares Sumner, April 10, 1863

New York, April 10,1863.

. . . I do not think that your remarks concerning foreign ministers having intercourse with the opposition apply to the case of Lord Lyons. Would or would not the premier of England have sent word to a monarch that his minister was no longer agreeable to his majesty, if this minister in London, a century ago, had held covert intercourse with Scottish sympathizers or adherents of the Stuarts? I believe that a minister must be very circumspect in his intercourse with the opposition, — as opposition, and in excited times. Depend upon it, Pitt would not have allowed a foreign minister to be closeted with Fox and Sheridan, discussing high politics of England, without making complaint. I give you an anecdote which will be interesting to the chairman of Foreign Affairs. President King tells me that when his father, Rufus King, was American Minister in London, he paid a visit to Paris after the Peace of Amiens, when Fox likewise went. Fox went to see Consul Bonaparte. The latter desired that King would have himself presented, or the chief officers of the consul told King that they would gladly present him. King, who was then engaged in making a treaty with England, declined, because he knew that Bonaparte was very disagreeable to George III., and he thought he had no right to do anything that could interfere with his relation to the British court or ministry. When he returned to England and went to court, George III. went up to him and said: “Mr. King, I am very much obliged to you; you have treated me like a gentleman, which is more than I can say of all my subjects.” I give the words exactly as President King gave them to me, and he says that he gave the words to me as exactly as he could remember them, the anecdote being in lively remembrance in the family. He thinks he can now repeat the very words in which his father told the affair immediately after his return from court, and that they are the ipsissima verba of George III.

My belief is that, had we to consider nothing but diplomatic propriety, Lord Lyons's case is one which not only would authorize the President, but ought to cause him to declare to the Queen of England that Lord Lyons “was no longer agreeable to the American Government.” This occurrence belongs to the large class of facts which show, and have shown for the last two hundred and fifty years, that monarchies always treat republics as incomplete governments, unless guns and bayonets and commercial advantages prevent them from doing so. You remember the Netherlands? Lord Palmerston would not have spoken of a puny kingkin as he did of us in the recent Alabama discussion. Do you believe that the course of England toward us at present would have been anything like what it has been, and continues to be, had we had a monarch, though there had been an Anne or a Louis XV, or a Philip on our throne? Unfortunately, I must add that it is a psychological phenomenon which is not restricted to monarchists. The insolence of the South would have presented itself as rank rebellion to the grossest mind, had we had a monarch, or a president for life. Man is a very coarse creature. I can never forget that I found in Crabbe's “Dictionary of Synonyms,” that “properly speaking rebellion cannot be committed in republics, because there is no monarch to rebel against.” What does my senator and publicist think of this? A girl, “not of an age at which any respectable millinery establishment would be intrusted to her,”as Lord Brougham expressed it, is a more striking name, figure, sign, to swear allegiance to, than a country, a constitution, and their history, or the great continuous society to which men belong, let them be ever so old or glorious. Five hundred years hence it may be somewhat different. For the present, it is true that, could you extinguish the whole royal family in England, but keep the nation ignorant of the fact, and rule England by a ministry and parliament in the name of Peter or John, Bull would be far warmer in his allegiance than he would prove to the State, or Old England, or Great Britain. Observe how degrading for our species the beggarly appointment of a king of Greece is, — a Danish collateral prince! Our race worships as yet the Daimio as much as the Japanese do. Though a perfect Roi fainéant, it is a Roi, — an entity, a thing, and therefore better than an idea, however noble,— gross creatures that we are! . . .

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 331-3

John Lothrop Motley to Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., November 15, 1861

Vienna, November 14, 1861.

My Dear Holmes: Your letter of October 8 awaited me here. I need not tell you with what delight I read it, and with what gratitude I found you so faithful to the promises which we exchanged on board the Europa. Your poem,¹ read at the Napoleon dinner, I had already read several times in various papers, and admired it very much, but I thank you for having the kindness to inclose it. As soon as I read your letter I sat down to reply, but I had scarcely written two lines when I received the first telegram of the Ball's Bluff affair. I instantly remembered what you had told me — that Wendell “was on the right of the advance on the Upper Potomac, the post of honor and danger,” and it was of course impossible for me to write to you till I had learned more, and you may easily conceive our intense anxiety. The bare, brutal telegram announcing a disaster arrives always four days before any details can possibly be brought. Well, after the four days came my London paper; but, as ill luck would have it, my American ones had not begun to arrive. At last, day before yesterday, I got a New York “Evening Post,” which contained Frank Palfrey's telegram. Then our hearts were saddened enough by reading: “Willie Putnam, killed; Lee, Revere, and George Perry, captured”; but they were relieved of an immense anxiety by the words, “O. W. Holmes, Jr., slightly wounded.”

Poor Mrs. Putnam! I wish you would tell Lowell (for to the mother or father I do not dare to write) to express the deep sympathy which I feel for their bereavement, that there were many tears shed in our little household in this distant place for the fate of his gallant, gentle-hearted, brave-spirited nephew. I did not know him much — not at all as grown man; but the name of Willie Putnam was a familiar sound to us six years ago on the banks of the Arno, for we had the pleasure of passing a winter in Florence at the same time with the Putnams, and I knew that that studious youth promised to be all which his name and his blood and the influences under which he was growing up entitled him to become. We often talked of American politics, — I mean his father and mother and ourselves, — and I believe that we thoroughly sympathized in our views and hopes. Alas! they could not then foresee that that fair-haired boy was after so short a time destined to lay down his young life on the Potomac, in one of the opening struggles for freedom and law with the accursed institution of slavery. Well, it is a beautiful death — the most beautiful that man can die. Young as he was, he had gained name and fame, and his image can never be associated in the memory of the hearts which mourn for him except with ideas of honor, duty, and purity of manhood.

After we had read the New York newspaper, the next day came a batch of Boston dailies and a letter from my dear little Mary. I seized it with avidity and began to read it aloud, and before I had finished the first page it dropped from my hand, and we all three burst into floods of tears. Mary wrote that Harry Higginson, of the Second, had visited the camp of the Twentieth, and that Wendell Holmes was shot through the lungs and not likely to recover. It seemed too cruel, just as we had been informed that he was but slightly wounded. After the paroxysm was over, I picked up the letter and read a rather important concluding phrase of Mary's statement, viz., “But this, thank God, has proved to be a mistake.” I think if you could have been clairvoyant, and looked in upon our dark little sitting-room of the Archduke Charles Hotel, fourth story, at that moment, you could have had proof enough, if you needed any fresh ones, of the strong hold that you and yours have on all our affections. There are very many youths in that army of freedom whose career we watch with intense interest; but Wendell Holmes is ever in our thoughts side by side with those of our own name and blood. I renounce all attempt to paint my anxiety about our affairs. I do not regret that Wendell is with the army. It is a noble and healthy symptom that brilliant, intellectual, poetical spirits like his spring to arms when a noble cause like ours inspires them. The race of Philip Sydneys is not yet extinct, and I honestly believe that as much genuine chivalry exists in our free States at this moment as there is or ever was in any part of the world, from the crusaders down. I did not say a word when I was at home to Lewis Stackpole about his plans, but I was very glad when he wrote to me that he had accepted a captaincy in Stevenson's regiment. I suppose by this time they are in the field.

There, you see how truly I spoke when I said that I could write nothing to you worth hearing, while I, on the contrary, should be ever hungering and thirsting to hear from you. Our thoughts are always in America, but I am obliged to rely upon you for letters. Sam Hooper promised to write (I am delighted to see, by the way, that he has been nominated, as I hoped would be the case, for Congress), and William Amory promised; but you are the only one thus far who has kept promises. I depend on your generosity to send me very often a short note. No matter how short, it will be a living, fresh impression from the mint of your mind — a bit of pure gold worth all the copper counterfeits which circulate here in Europe. Nobody on this side the Atlantic has the faintest conception of our affairs. Let me hear from time to time, as often as you can, how you are impressed by the current events, and give me details of such things as immediately interest you. Tell me all about Wendell. How does your wife stand her trials? Give my love to her and beg her to keep up a brave heart. Hœc olim meminisse juvabit. And how will those youths who stay at home “account themselves accursed they were not there,” when the great work has been done, as done it will be! Of that I am as sure as that there is a God in heaven.

What can I say to you of cisatlantic things? I am almost ashamed to be away from home. You know that I decided to remain, and had sent for my family to come to America, when my present appointment altered my plans. I do what good I can. I think I made some impression on Lord John Russell, with whom I spent two days soon after my arrival in England; and I talked very frankly, and as strongly as I could, to Lord Palmerston; and I had long conversations and correspondences with other leading men in England. I also had an hour's talk with Thouvenel² in Paris, and hammered the Northern view into him as soundly as I could. For this year there will be no foreign interference with us, and I do not anticipate it at any time, unless we bring it on ourselves by bad management, which I do not expect. Our fate is in our own hands, and Europe is looking on to see which side is the strongest. When it has made the discovery, it will back it as also the best and the most moral. Yesterday I had my audience with the emperor. He received me with much cordiality, and seemed interested in a long account which I gave him of our affairs. You may suppose I inculcated the Northern view. We spoke in his vernacular, and he asked me afterward if I was a German. I mention this not from vanity, but because he asked it with earnestness and as if it had a political significance. Of course I undeceived him. His appearance interested me, and his manner is very pleasing. Good-by; all our loves to all.

Ever your sincere friend,

J. L. M.

Remember me most kindly to the club, one and all. I have room for their names in my heart, but not in this page.

_______________

¹ “Vive la France.” A sentiment offered at the dinner to H. I. H. Prince Napoleon at the Revere House, September 25, 1861.

² Minister of Foreign Affairs.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 211-6

John Lothrop Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, September 22, 1861

East Sheen, September 22, 1861.

My Dearest Mother: I am writing you a little note again. I can do no more until such time as we shall be settled at Vienna. We came down here last evening to spend Sunday with your old friends Mr. and Mrs. Bates. He is the same excellent, kindly old gentleman he always was, and is as stanch an American and as firm a believer in the ultimate success of our cause as if he had never left Boston.

. . . I have lost no time since I have been in England, for almost every day I have had interesting conversations with men connected with the government or engaged in public affairs.

There will be no foreign interference, certainly none from England, unless we be utterly defeated in our present struggle. We spent a few days with our friends the De Greys in Yorkshire. During my visit I went up to the north of Scotland to pass a couple of days with Lord John Russell at Abergeldie. It is an old Scotch castle, which formerly belonged to a family of Gordon of Abergeldie. The country is wild and pretty about it, with mountains clothed in purple heather all round, the Dee winding its way through a pleasant valley, and the misty heights of Lochnagar, sung by Byron in his younger days, crowning the scene whenever the clouds permit that famous summit to be visible.

I was received with the greatest kindness. There were no visitors at the house, for both Lord and Lady Russell are the most domestic people in the world, and are glad to escape from the great whirl of London society as much as they can. In the afternoons we went with the children out in the woods, making fires, boiling a kettle, and making tea al fresco with water from the Dee, which, by the way, is rather coffee-colored, and ascending hills to get peeps of the prospects.

Most of my time, however, was spent in long and full conversations tete-a-tete with Lord John (it is impossible to call him by his new title of Earl Russell).

The cotton-manufacturers are straining every nerve to supply themselves with cotton from India and other sources. But it seems rather a desperate attempt to break up the Southern monopoly, however galling it is to them.

I can only repeat, everything depends upon ourselves, upon what we do. There are a few papers, like the “Daily News,” the “Star,” and the “Spectator,” which sustain our cause with cordiality, vigor, and talent.

The real secret of the exultation which manifests itself in the “Times” and other organs over our troubles and disasters is their hatred not to America so much as to democracy in England. We shall be let alone long enough for us to put down this mutiny if we are ever going to do it. And I firmly believe it will be done in a reasonable time, and I tell everybody here that the great Republic will rise from the conflict stronger than ever, and will live to plague them many a long year.

. . . We shall probably remain another week in London, for I have not yet seen Lord Palmerston, whom I am most anxious to have some talk with, and he is expected to-morrow in London. While I was stopping with Lord John, the queen sent to intimate that she would be pleased if I would make a visit at Balmoral, which is their Highland home, about one and a half miles from Abergeldie. Accordingly, Lord John went over with me in his carriage. We were received entirely without ceremony by the Prince Consort (we were all dressed in the plainest morning costumes), who conversed very pleasantly with us, and I must say there was never more got out of the weather than we managed to extract from it on this occasion. After we had been talking some twenty minutes the door opened, and her Majesty, in a plain black gown, walked quietly into the room, and I was presented with the least possible ceremony by the Prince Consort. I had never seen her before, but the little photographs in every shop-window of Boston or London give you an exact representation of her.

They are so faithful that I do not feel that I know her appearance now better than I did before. Her voice is very agreeable and her smile pleasant. She received me very politely, said something friendly about my works, and then alluded with interest to the great pleasure which the Prince of Wales had experienced in his visit to America.

The Prince Consort spoke with great animation on the same subject. There is not much more to be said in regard to the interview. I thought that the sending for me was intended as a compliment to the United States, and a mark of respect to one of its representatives.

Most affectionately your son,

J. L. M.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 204-7

John Lothrop Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, February 9, 1861

31 Hertford Street,

February 9, 1861.

My Dearest Mother:  . . . I wrote you a long letter of eight pages yesterday, and then tossed it into the fire, because I found I had been talking of nothing but American politics. Although this is a subject which, as you may suppose, occupies my mind almost exclusively for the time being, yet you have enough of it at home. As before this letter reaches you it will perhaps be decided whether there is to be civil war, peaceable dissolution, or a patch-up, it is idle for me to express any opinions on the subject. I do little else but read American newspapers, and we wait with extreme anxiety to know whether the pro-slavery party will be able to break up the whole compact at its own caprice, to seize Washington and prevent by force of arms the inauguration of Lincoln. That event must necessarily be followed by civil war, I should think. Otherwise I suppose it may be avoided. But whatever be the result, it is now proved beyond all possibility of dispute that we never have had a government, and that the much eulogized Constitution of the United States never was a constitution at all, for the triumphant secession of the Southern States shows that we have only had a league or treaty among two or three dozen petty sovereignties, each of them insignificant in itself, but each having the power to break up the whole compact at its own caprice. Whether the separation takes place now, or whether there is a patch-up, there is no escaping the conclusion that a government proved to be incapable of protecting its own property and the honor of its own flag is no government at all and may fall to pieces at any moment. The pretense of a people governing itself, without the need of central force and a powerful army, is an exploded fallacy which can never be revived. If there is a compromise now, which seems possible enough, because the Northern States are likely to give way, as they invariably have done, to the bluster of the South, it will perhaps be the North which will next try the secession dodge, when we find ourselves engaged in a war with Spain for the possession of Cuba, or with England on account of the reopened African slave-trade, either of which events is in the immediate future.

But I find myself getting constantly into this maelstrom of American politics and must break off short.

I send you by this mail the London “Times” of the 7th of February. You will find there (in the parliamentary reports) a very interesting speech of Lord John Russell; but it will be the more interesting to you because it contains a very handsome compliment to me, and one that is very gratifying. I have not sent you the different papers in which my book has been reviewed, excepting three consecutive “Times,” which contain a long article. I suppose that “Littell's Living Age” reprints most of these notices. And the “Edinburgh,” “Quarterly,” and “Westminster Reviews” (in each of whose January numbers the work has been reviewed) are, I know, immediately reprinted. If you will let me know, however, what notices you have seen, I will send you the others in case you care for them.

We are going on rather quietly. We made pleasant country visits at Sidney Herbert's, Lord Palmerston's, Lady Stanhope's, Lord Ashburton's; but now the country season is pretty well over, Parliament opened, and the London season begun. I am hard at work in the State Paper Office every day, but it will be a good while before I can get to writing again.

I am most affectionately your son,

J. L. M.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 110-2

John Lothrop Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, February 9, 1860

31, Hertford Street,

February 9th, 1861.

My Dearest Mother,  . . . . I wrote you a long letter of eight pages yesterday, and then tossed it into the fire, because I found I had been talking of nothing but American politics. Although this is a subject which, as you may suppose, occupies my mind almost exclusively for the time being, yet you have enough of it at home, as before this letter reaches you it will perhaps be decided whether there is to be civil war, peaceable dissolution, or a patch up; it is idle for me to express any opinions on the subject. I do little else but read American newspapers, and we wait with extreme anxiety to know whether the pro-slavery party will be able to break up the whole compact at its own caprice, to seize Washington, and prevent by force of arms the inauguration of Lincoln. That event must necessarily be followed by civil war, I should think. Otherwise, I suppose it may be avoided. But whatever be the result, it is now proved beyond all possibility of dispute that we never have had a government, and that the much eulogised constitution of the United States never was a constitution at all, for the triumphant secession of the Southern States shows that we have only had a league or treaty among two or three dozen petty sovereignties, each of them insignificant in itself, but each having the power to break up the whole compact at its own caprice. Whether the separation takes place now, or whether there is a patch up, there is no escaping the conclusion that a government proved to be incapable of protecting its own property and the honour of its own flag is no government at all, and may fall to pieces at any moment. The pretence of a people governing itself, without the need of central force and a powerful army, is an exploded fallacy which can never be revived. If there is a compromise now, which seems possible enough, because the Northern States are likely to give way, as they invariably have done, to the bluster of the South, it will perhaps be the North which will next try the secession dodge, when we find ourselves engaged in a war with Spain for the possession of Cuba, or with England on account of the reopened African slave trade, either of which events are in the immediate future.

But I find myself getting constantly into this maelstrom of American politics and must break off short.

I send you by this mail the London Times of the 7th of February. You will find there (in the parliamentary reports) a very interesting speech of Lord John Russell; but it will be the more interesting to you because it contains a very handsome compliment to me, and one that is very gratifying. I have not sent you the different papers in which my book has been reviewed, excepting three consecutive Times, which contain a long article. I suppose that “Littell's Living Age” reprints most of these notices. And the Edinburgh, Quarterly, and Westminster Reviews (in each of whose January numbers the work has been reviewed) are, I know, immediately reprinted. If yon will let me know, however, what notices you have seen, I will send you the others in case you care for them.

We are going on rather quietly. We made pleasant country visits at Sidney Herbert's, Lord Palmerston's, Lady Stanhope's, Lord Ashburton's, but now the country season is pretty well over, parliament opened, and the London season begun. I am hard at work in the State Paper Office every day, but it will be a good while before I can get to writing again.

I am most affectionately your son,

J. L. M.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Volume 1, p. 357-9