University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER LX.

December 24th.—This evening came in a telegram from
Europe with news which cast the deepest gloom over all our
little English circle. Prince Albert dead! At first no one
believed it; then it was remembered that private letters by
the last mail had spoken despondingly of his state of health,
and that the "little cold" of which we had heard was described
in graver terms. Prince Albert dead! "Oh, it may
be Prince Alfred," said some; and sad as it would be for the
Queen and the public to lose the Sailor Prince, the loss could
not be so great as that which we all felt to be next to the
greatest. The preparations which we had made for a little
festivity to welcome in Christmas morning were chilled by the
news, and the eve was not of the joyous character which
Englishmen delight to give it, for the sorrow which fell on all
hearts in England had spanned the Atlantic, and bade as
mourn in common with the country at home.

December 25th.—Lord Lyons, who had invited the English
in Washington to dinner, gave a small quiet entertainment,
from which he retired early.

December 26th.—No answer yet. There can be but one.
Press, people, soldiers, sailors, ministers, senators, congressmen,
people in the street, the voices of the bar-room—all are
agreed. "Give them up? Never! We'll die first!" Senator
Sumner, M. De Beaumont, M. De Geoffroy, of the
French Legation, dined with me, in company with General

Van Vliet, Mr. Anderson, and Mr. Lamy, &c.; and in the
evening Major Anson, M. P., Mr. Johnson, Captain Irwin,
U. S. A., Lt. Wise, U. S. N., joined our party, and after much
evasion of the subject, the English despatch and Mr. Seward's
decision turned up and caused some discussion. Mr. Sumner,
who is Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Relations in
the Senate, and in that capacity is in intimate rapport with
the President, either is, or affects to be, incredulous respecting
the nature of Lord Russell's despatch this evening, and argues
that, at the very utmost, the Trent affair can only be a matter
for mediation, and not for any peremptory demand, as the law
of nations has no exact precedent to bear upon the case, and
that there are so many instances in which Sir W. Scott's
(Lord Stowell's) decisions in principle appear to justify Captain
Wilkes. All along he has held this language, and has
maintained that at the very worst there is plenty of time for
protocols, despatches, and references, and more than once he
has said to me, "I hope you will keep the peace; help us to
do so,"—the peace having been already broken by Captain
Wilkes and the Government.

December 27th.—This morning Mr. Seward sent in his reply
to Lord Russell's despatch—"grandis et verbosa epistola."
The result destroys my prophecies, for, after all, the Southern
Commissioners or Ambassadors are to be given up. Yesterday,
indeed, in an under-current of whispers among the desponding
friends of the South, there went a rumor that the
Government had resolved to yield. What a collapse! What
a bitter mortification! I had scarcely finished the perusal of
an article in a Washington paper,—which, let it be understood,
is an organ of Mr. Lincoln,—stating that "Mason and Slidell
would not be surrendered, and assuring the people they
need entertain no apprehension of such a dishonorable concession,"
when I learned beyond all possibility of doubt, that
Mr. Seward had handed in his despatch, placing the Commissioners
at the disposal of the British Minister. A copy of the
despatch will be published in the "National Intelligencer" tomorrow
morning at an early hour, in time to go to Europe by
the steamer which leaves New York.

After dinner, those who were in the secret were amused by
hearing the arguments which were started between one or
two Americans and some English in the company, in consequence
of a positive statement from a gentleman who came
in, that Mason and Slidell had been surrendered. I have resolved

to go to Boston, being satisfied that a great popular
excitement and uprising will, in all probability, take place on
the discharge of the Commissioners from Fort Warren.
What will my friend, the general, say, who told me yesterday
"he would snap his sword, and throw the pieces into the
White House, if they were given up?"

December 28th.—The "National Intelligencer" of this
morning contains the despatches of Lord Russell, M. Thouvenel,
and Mr. Seward. The bubble has burst. The rage of the
friends of compromise, and of the South, who saw in a war with
Great Britain the complete success of the Confederacy, is deep
and burning, if not loud; but they all say they never expected
anything better from the cowardly and braggart statesmen who
now rule in Washington.

Lord Lyons has evinced the most moderate and conciliatory
spirit, and has done everything in his power to break Mr.
Seward's fall on the softest of eider down. Some time ago we
were all prepared to hear nothing less would be accepted than
Captain Wilkes taking Messrs. Mason and Slidell on board the
San Jacinto, and transferring them to the Trent, under a salute
to the flag, near the scene of the outrage; at all events,
it was expected that a British man-of-war would have steamed
into Boston, and received the prisoners under a salute from
Fort Warren; but Mr. Seward, apprehensive that some outrage
would be offered by the populace to the prisoners and the
British Flag, has asked Lord Lyons that the Southern Commissioners
may be placed, as it were, surreptitiously, in a
United States boat, and carried to a small seaport in the State
of Maine, where they are to be placed on board a British vessel
as quietly as possible; and this exigent, imperious, tyrannical,
insulting British Minister has cheerfully acceded to the
request. Mr. Conway Seymour, the Queen's messenger, who
brought Lord Russell's despatch, was sent back with instructions
for the British Admiral, to send a vessel to Provincetown
for the purpose; and as Mr. Johnson, who is nearly
connected with Mr. Eustis, one of the prisoners, proposed
going to Boston to see his brother-in-law, if possible, ere he
started, and as there was not the smallest prospect of any
military movement taking place, I resolved to go northwards
with him; and we left Washington accordingly on the morning
of the 31st of December, and arrived at the New York
Hotel the same night.

To my great regret and surprise, however, I learned it

would be impracticable to get to Fort Warren and see the
prisoners before their surrender. My unpopularity, which
had lost somewhat of its intensity, was revived by the exasperation
against everything English, occasioned by the firmness
of Great Britain in demanding the Commissioners; and on
New Year's Night, as I heard subsequently, Mr. Grinnel and
other members of the New York Club were exposed to annoyance
and insult, by some of their brother members, in consequence
of inviting me to be their guest at the club.

The illness which had prostrated some of the strongest men
in Washington, including General McClellan himself, developed
itself as soon as I ceased to be sustained by the excitement,
such as it was, of daily events at the capital, and by expectations
of a move; and for some time an attack of typhoid fever
confined me to my room, and left me so weak that I was advised
not to return to Washington till I had tried change of air.
I remained in New York till the end of January, when I proceeded
to make a tour in Canada, as it was quite impossible
for any operation to take place on the Potomac, where deep
mud, alternating with snow and frost, bound the contending
armies in winter-quarters.

On my return to New York, at the end of February, the
North was cheered by some signal successes achieved in the
West, principally by gunboats, operating on the lines of the
great rivers. The greatest results have been obtained in
the capture of Fort Donaldson and Fort Henry, by Commodore
Foote's flotilla coöperating with the land forces. The
possession of an absolute naval supremacy, of course, gives
the North United States powerful means of annoyance and
inflicting injury and destruction on the enemy; it also secures
for them the means of seizing upon bases of operations where ever
they please, of breaking up the enemy's lines, and maintaining
communications; but the example of Great Britain in
the Revolutionary War should prove to the United States that
such advantages do not, by any means, enable a belligerent to
subjugate a determined people resolved on resistance to the
last. The long-threatened encounter between Bragg and
Browne has taken place at Pensacola, without effect, and the
attempts of the Federals to advance from Port Royal have
been successfully resisted. Sporadic skirmishes have sprung
up over every Border State; but, on the whole, success has
inclined to the Federals in Kentucky and Tennessee.

On the 1st March, I arrived in Washington once more,

and found things very much as I had left them: the army
recovering the effect of the winter's sickness and losses, animated
by the victories of their comrades in Western fields,
and by the hope that the ever-coming to-morrow would see
them in the field at last. In place of Mr. Cameron, an Ohio
lawyer named Stanton, has been appointed Secretary of War.
He came to Washington, a few years ago, to conduct some
legal proceedings for Mr. Daniel Sickles, and by his energy,
activity, and a rapid conversion from Democratic to Republican
principles, as well as by his Union sentiments, recommended
himself to the President and his Cabinet.

The month of March passed over without any remarkable
event in the field. When the army started at last to attack
the enemy—a movement which was precipitated by hearing
that they were moving away—they went out only to find the
Confederates had fallen back by interior lines towards Richmond,
and General McClellan was obliged to transport his
army from Alexandria to the peninsula of Yorktown, where
his reverses, his sufferings, and his disastrous retreat, are so
well known and so recent, that I need only mention them as
among the most remarkable events which have yet occurred
in this war.

I had looked forward for many weary months to participating
in the movement and describing its results. Immediately
on my arrival in Washington, I was introduced to Mr. Stanton
by Mr. Ashman, formerly member of Congress and Secretary
to Mr. Daniel Webster, and the Secretary, without
making any positive pledge, used words, in Mr. Ashman's
presence, which led me to believe he would give me permission
to draw rations, and undoubtedly promised to afford me
every facility in his power. Subsequently he sent me a private
pass to the War Department to enable me to get through
the crowd of contractors and jobbers; but on going there to
keep my appointment, the Assistant Secretary of War told
me Mr. Stanton had been summoned to a Cabinet Council by
the President.

We had some conversation respecting the subject-matter
of my application, which the Assistant Secretary seemed to
think would be attended with many difficulties, in consequence
of the number of correspondents to the American papers who
might demand the same privileges, and he intimated to me
that Mr. Stanton was little disposed to encourage them in any
way whatever. Now this is undoubtedly honest on Mr. Stanton's

part, for he knows he might render himself popular by
granting what they ask; but he is excessively vain, and aspires
to be considered a rude, rough, vigorous Oliver Cromwell
sort of man, mistaking some of the disagreeable attributes
and the accidents of the external husk of the Great Protector
for the brain and head of a statesman and a soldier.

The American officers with whom I was intimate gave me
to understand that I could accompany them, in case I received
permission from the Government; but they were obviously
unwilling to encounter the abuse and calumny which would be
heaped upon their heads by American papers, unless they
could show the authorities did not disapprove of my presence
in their camp. Several invitations sent to me were accompanied
by the phrase, "You will of course get a written permission
from the War Department, and then there will be no
difficulty." On the evening of the private theatricals by which
Lord Lyons enlivened the ineffable dulness of Washington, I
saw Mr. Stanton at the Legation, and he conversed with me
for some time. I mentioned the difficulty connected with
passes. He asked me what I wanted. I said, "An order to
go with the army to Manassas." At his request I procured a
sheet of paper, and he wrote me a pass, took a copy of it, which
he put in his pocket, and then handed the other to me. On
looking at it, I perceived that it was a permission for me to
go to Manassas and back, and that all officers, soldiers, and
others, in the United States service, were to give me every
assistance and show me every courtesy; but the hasty return
of the army to Alexandria rendered it useless.

The Merrimac and Monitor encounter produced the profoundest
impression in Washington, and unusual strictness was
observed respecting passes to Fortress Monroe.

March 19th.—I applied at the Navy Department for a
passage down to Fortress Monroe, as it was expected the
Merrimac was coming out again, but I could not obtain leave
to go in any of the vessels. Captain Hardman showed me a
carious sketch of what he called the Turtle Thor, an ironcased
machine with a huge claw or grapnel, with which to
secure the enemy whilst a steam hammer or a high iron fist,
worked by the engine, cracks and smashes her iron armor.
"For," says he, "the days of gunpowder are over."

As soon as General McClellan commenced his movement,
he sent a message to me by one of the French princes, that he
would have great pleasure in allowing me to accompany his

head-quarters in the field. I find the following, under the
head of March 22d:—

"Received a letter from General Marcy, chief of the staff,
asking me to call at his office. He told me General McClellan
directed him to say he had no objection whatever to
may accompanying the army, 'but,' continued General Marcy,
'you know we are a sensitive people, and that our press is
exceedingly jealous. General McClellan has many enemies
who seek to pull him down, and scruple at no means of doing
so. He and I would be glad to do anything in our power to
help you, if you come with us, but we must not expose ourselves
needlessly to attack. The army is to move to the York
and James Rivers at once.'"

All my arrangements were made that day with General
Van Vliet, the quartermaster-general of head-quarters; I
was quite satisfied, from Mr. Stanton's promise and General
Marcy's conversation, that I should have no further difficulty.
Our party was made up, consisting of Colonel Neville; Lieutenant-Colonel
Fletcher, Scotch Fusilier Guards; Mr. Lamy,
and myself; and our passage was to be provided in the quartermaster-general's
boat. On the 26th of March, I went to
Baltimore in company with Colonel Rowan, of the Royal Artillery,
who had come down for a few days to visit Washington,
intending to go on by the steamer to Fortress Monroe, as
he was desirous of seeing his friends on board the Rinaldo,
and I wished to describe the great flotilla assembled there and
to see Captain Hewett once more.

On arriving at Baltimore, we learned it would be necessary
to get a special pass from General Dix, and on going to the
General's head-quarters his aide-de-camp informed us that he
had received special instructions recently from the War Department
to grant no passes to Fortress Monroe, unless to officers
and soldiers going on duty, or to persons in the service
of the United States. The aide-de-camp advised me to telegraph
to Mr. Stanton for permission, which I did, but no
answer was received, and Colonel Rowan and I returned to
Washington, thinking there would be a better chance of securing
the necessary order there.

Next day we went to the Department of War, and were
shown into Mr. Stanton's room—his secretary informing us
that he was engaged in the next room with the President and
other Ministers in a council of war, but that he would no
doubt receive a letter from me and send me out a reply. I

accordingly addressed a note to Mr. Stanton, requesting he
Would be good enough to give an order to Colonel Rowan, of
the British array, and myself, to go by the mail boat from
Baltimore to Monroe. In a short time Mr. Stanton sent out
a note in the followin words:—"Mr. Stanton informs Mr.
Russell no passes to Fortress Monroe can be given at present,
unless to officers in the United States service." We tried the
Navy Department, but no vessels were going down, they said;
and one of the officers suggested that we should ask for passes
to go down and visit H. M. S. Rinaldo exclusively, which
could not well be refused, he thought, to British subjects, and
promised to take charge of the letter for Mr. Stanton and to
telegraph the permission down to Baltimore. There we returned
by the afternoon train and waited, but neither reply
nor pass came for us.

Next day we were disappointed also, and an officer of the
Rinaldo, who had come up on duty from the ship, was refused
permission to take us down on his return. I regretted these
obstructions principally on Colonel Rowan's account, because
he would have no opportunity of seeing the flotilla. He returned
next day to New York, whilst I completed my preparations
for the expedition and went back to Washington,
where I received my pass, signed by General McClellan's
chief of the staff, authorizing me to accompany the headquarters
of the army under his command. So far as I know,
Mr. Stanton sent no reply to my last letter, and calling with
General Van Vliet at his house on his reception night, the
door was opened by his brother-in-law, who said, "The Secretary
was attending a sick child and could not see any person
that evening," so I never met Mr. Stanton again.

Stories had long been current concerning his exceeding
animosity to General McClellan, founded perhaps on his expressed
want of confidence in the General's abilities, as much
as on the dislike he felt towards a man who persisted in disregarding
his opinions on matters connected with military,
operations. His infirmities of health and tendency to cerebral
excitement had been increased by the pressure of business,
by the novelty of power, and by the angry passions to
which individual antipathies and personal rancor give rise.
No one who ever saw Mr. Stanton would expect from him
courtesy of manner or delicacy of feeling; but his affectation
of bluntness and straightforwardness of purpose might have
led one to suppose he was honest and direct in purpose, as the

qualities I have mentioned are not always put forward by
hypocrites to cloak finesse and sinister action.

The rest of the story may be told in a few words. It was
perfectly well known in Washington that I was going with the
army, and I presume Mr. Stanton, if he had any curiosity
about such a trifling matter, must have heard it also. I am
told he was informed of it at the last moment, and then flew
out into a coarse passion against General McClellan because
he had dared to invite or to take any one without his permission.
What did a Republican General want with foreign
princes on his staff, or with foreign newspaper correspondents
to puff him up abroad?

Judging from the stealthy, secret way in which Mr. Stanton
struck at General McClellan the instant he had turned his
back upon Washington, and crippled him in the field by suddenly
withdrawing his best division without a word of notice,
I am inclined to fear he gratified whatever small passion dictated
his course on this occasion also, by waiting till he knew
I was fairly on board the steamer with my friends and baggage,
just ready to move off, before he sent down a despatch
to Van Vliet and summoned him at once to the War Office.
When Van Vliet returned in a couple of hours, he made the
communication to me that Mr. Stanton had given him written
orders to prevent my passage, though even here he acted with
all the cunning and indirection of the village attorney, not
with the straightforwardness of Oliver Cromwell, whom it is
laughable to name in the same breath with his imitator. He
did not write, "Mr. Russell is not to go," or "The 'Times'
correspondent is forbidden a passage," but he composed two
orders, with all the official formula of the War Office, drawn
up by the Quartermaster General of the army, by the direction
and order of the Secretary of War. No. 1 ordered "that
no person should be permitted to embark on board any vessel
in the United States service without an order from the War
Department." No. 2 ordered "that Colonel Neville, Colonel
Fletcher, and Captain Lamy, of the British army, having
been invited by General McClellan to accompany the expedition,
were authorized to embark on board the vessel."

General Van Vliet assured me that he and General
McDowell had urged every argument they could think of
in my favor, particularly the fact that I was the specially
invited guest of General McClellan, and that I was actually
provided with a pass by his order from the chief of his staff.

With these orders before me, I had no alternative.

General McClellan was far away. Mr. Stanton had waited
again until he was gone. General Marcy was away. I laid
the statement of what had occurred before the President, who
at first gave me hopes, from the wording of his letter, that he
would overrule Mr. Stanton's order, but who next day informed
me he could not take it upon himself to do so.

It was plain I had now but one course left. My mission in
the United States was to describe military events and operations,
or, in defect of them, to deal with such subjects as might
be interesting to people at home. In the discharge of my
duty, I had visited the South, remaining there until the approach
of actual operations and the establishment of the
blockade, which cut off all communication from the Southern
States except by routes which would deprive my correspondence
of any value, compelled me to return to the North, where I
could keep up regular communication with Europe. Soon after
my return, as unfortunately for myself as the United States,
the Federal troops were repulsed in an attempt to march upon
Richmond, and terminated a disorderly retreat by a disgraceful
panic. The whole incidents of what I saw were fairly
stated by an impartial witness, who, if anything, was inclined
to favor a nation endeavoring to suppress a rebellion, and who
was by no means impressed, as the results of his recent tour,
with the admiration and respect for the people of the Confederate
States which their enormous sacrifices, extraordinary
gallantry, and almost unparalleled devotion, have long since
extorted from him in common with all the world. The letter
in which that account was given came back to America after
the first bitterness and humiliation of defeat had passed, and
disappointment and alarm had been succeeded by such a formidable
outburst of popular resolve, that the North forgot
everything in the instant anticipations of a glorious and triumphant
revenge.

Every feeling of the American was hurt—above all, his
vanity and his pride, by the manner in which the account of
the reverse had been received in Europe; and men whom I
scorned too deeply to reply to, dexterously took occasion to direct
on my head the full storm of popular indignation. Not,
indeed, that I had escaped before. Ere a line from my pen
reached America at all—ere my first letter had crossed the
Atlantic to England—the jealousy and hatred felt for all
things British—for press or principle, or representative of

either—had found expression in Northern journals; but that
I was prepared for. I knew well no foreigner had ever
penned a line—least of all, no Englishman—concerning the
United States of North America, their people, manners, and
institutions, who had not been treated to the abuse which is
supposed by their journalists to mean criticism, no matter
what the justness or moderation of the views expressed, the
sincerity of purpose, and the truthfulness of the writer. In
the South, the press threatened me with tar and feathers, because
I did not see the beauties of their domestic institution,
and wrote of it in my letters to England exactly as I spoke
of it to every one who conversed with me on the subject when
I was amongst them; and now the Northern papers recommended
expulsion, ducking, riding rails, and other cognate
modes of insuring a moral conviction of error; endeavored to
intimidate me by threats of duels or personal castigations:
gratified their malignity by ludicrous stories of imaginary
affronts or annoyances to which I never was exposed; and
sought to prevent the authorities extending any protection towards
me, and to intimidate officers from showing me any civilities.

In pursuance of my firm resolution I allowed the slanders
and misrepresentations which poured from their facile sources
for months to pass by unheeded, aad trusted to the calmer
sense of the people, and to the discrimination of those who
thought over the sentiments expressed in my letters, to do me
justice.

I need not enlarge on the dangers to which I was exposed.
Those who are acquainted with America, and know the life
of the great cities, will best appreciate the position of a man
who went forth daily in the camps and streets holding his life
in his hand. This expression of egotism is all I shall ask indulgence
for. Nothing could have induced me to abandon my
post or to recoil before my assailants; but at last a power I
could not resist struck me down. When to the press and populace
of the United States, the President and the Government
of Washington added their power, resistance would be unwise
and impracticable. In no camp could I have been received
—in no place useful. I went to America to witness and describe
the operations of the great army before Washington in
the field, and when I was forbidden by the proper authorities
to do so, my mission terminated at once.

On the evening of April 4th, as soon as I was in receipt

of the President's last communication, I telegraphed to New
York to engage a passage by the steamer which left on the
following Wednesday. Next day was devoted to packing up
and to taking leave of my friends—English and American—
whose kindnesses I shall remember in my heart of hearts, and
the following Monday I left Washington, of which, after all,
I shall retain many pleasant memories and keep souvenirs
green forever. I arrived in New York late on Tuesday evening,
and next day I saw the shores receding into a dim gray
fog, and ere the night fell was tossing about once more on
the stormy Atlantic, with the head of our good ship pointing,
thank Heaven, towards Europe.