New York Press--Rumours as to the Southerners--Visit to the
Smithsonian Institute--Pythons--Evening at Mr. Seward’s--Rough
draft of official dispatch to Lord J. Russell--Estimate of its
effect in Europe--The attitude of Virginia.
_April 7th._--Raining all day, cold and wet. I am tired and weary
of this perpetual jabber about Port Sumter. Men here who know
nothing at all of what is passing send letters to the New York
papers, which are eagerly read by the people in Washington as soon
as the journals reach the city, and then all these vague surmises
are taken as gospel, and argued upon as if they were facts. The
“Herald” keeps up the courage and spirit of its Southern friends
by giving the most florid accounts of their prospects, and making
continual attacks on Mr. Lincoln and his Government; but the
majority of the New York papers are inclined to resist Secession
and aid the Government. I dined with Lord Lyons in the evening,
and met Mr. Sumner, Mr. Blackwell, the manager of the Grand Trunk
Railway of Canada, his wife, and the members of the Legation.
After dinner I visited M. de Stoeckl, the Russian Minister, and M.
Tassara, the Minister of Spain, who had small receptions. There
were few Americans present. As a rule, the diplomatic circle, which
has, by-the-by, no particular centre, radii, or circumference,
keeps its members pretty much within itself. The great people
here are mostly the representatives of the South American powers,
who are on more intimate relations with the native families in
Washington than are the transatlantic ministers.
_April 8th._--How it does rain! Last night there were torrents of
water in the streets literally a foot deep. It still runs in muddy
whirling streams through the channels, and the rain is falling
incessantly from a dull leaden sky. The air is warm and clammy.
There are all kind of rumours abroad, and the barbers’ shops
shook with “shaves” this morning. Sumter, of course, was the main
topic. Some reported that the President had promised the Southern
Commissioners, through their friend Mr. Campbell, Judge of the
Supreme Court, not to use force in respect to Pickens or Sumter. I
wrote to Mr. Seward, to ask him if he could enable me to make any
definite statement on these important matters. The Southerners are
alarmed at the accounts they have received of great activity and
preparations in the Brooklyn and Boston navy yards, and declare
that “treachery” is meant. I find myself quite incapable of
comprehending their position. How can the United States Government
be guilty of “treachery” towards subjects of States which are
preparing to assert their independence, unless that Government has
been guilty of falsehood or admitted the justice of the decision to
which the States had arrived?
As soon as I had finished my letters, I drove over to the
Smithsonian Institute, and was most kindly received by Professor
Henry, who took me through the library and museum, and introduced
me to Professor Baird, who is great in natural history, and more
particularly in ornithology. I promised the professors some
skins of Himalayan pheasants, as an addition to the collection.
In the library we were presented to two very fine and lively rock
snakes, or pythons, I believe, some six feet long or more, which
moved about with much grace and agility, putting out their forked
tongues and hissing sharply when seized by the hand or menaced with
a stick. I was told that some persons doubted if serpents hissed;
I can answer for it that rock snakes do most audibly. They are
not venomous, but their teeth are sharp and needle like. The eye
is bright and glistening; the red forked tongue, when protruded,
has a rapid vibratory motion, as if it were moved by the muscles
which produce the quivering hissing noise. I was much interested
by Professor Henry’s remarks on the large map of the continent of
North America in his study: he pointed out the climatic conditions
which determined the use, profits, and necessity of slave-labour,
and argued that the vast increase of population anticipated in the
valley of the Mississippi, and the prophecies of imperial greatness
attached to it, were fallacious. He seems to be of opinion that
most of the good land of America is already cultivated, and that
the crops which it produces tend to exhaust it, so as to compel
the cultivators eventually to let it go fallow or to use manure.
The fact is, that the influence of the great mountain-chain in the
west, which intercepts all the rain on the Pacific side, causes an
immense extent of country between the eastern slope of the chain
and the Mississippi, as well as the district west of Minnesota, to
be perfectly dry and uninhabitable; and, as far as we know, it is
as worthless as a moor, except for the pasturage of wild cattle and
the like.
On returning to my hotel, I found a note from Mr. Seward, asking me
to visit him at nine o’clock. On going to his house, I was shown to
the drawing-room, and found there only the Secretary of State, his
son, and Mrs. Seward. I made a _parti carré_ for a friendly rubber
of whist, and Mr. Seward, who was my partner, talked as he played,
so that the score of the game was not favourable. But his talk was
very interesting. “All the preparations of which you hear mean
this only. The Government, finding the property of the State and
Federal forts neglected and left without protection, are determined
to take steps to relieve them from that neglect, and to protect
them. But we are determined in doing so to make no aggression.
The President’s inaugural clearly shadows out our policy. We will
not go beyond it--we have no intention of doing so--nor will we
withdraw from it.” After a time Mr. Seward put down his cards, and
told his son to go for a portfolio which he would find in a drawer
of his table. Mrs. Seward lighted the drop light of the gas, and on
her husband’s return with the paper left the room. The Secretary
then lit his cigar, gave one to me, and proceeded to read slowly
and with marked emphasis, a very long, strong, and able dispatch,
which he told me was to be read by Mr. Adams, the American Minister
in London, to Lord John Russell. It struck me that the tone of the
paper was hostile, that there was an undercurrent of menace through
it, and that it contained insinuations that Great Britain would
interfere to split up the Republic, if she could, and was pleased
at the prospect of the dangers which threatened it.
At all the stronger passages Mr. Seward raised his voice, and
made a pause at their conclusion as if to challenge remark or
approval. At length I could not help saying, that the despatch
would, no doubt, have an excellent effect when it came to light in
Congress, and that the Americans would think highly of the writer;
but I ventured to express an opinion that it would not be quite
so acceptable to the Government and people of Great Britain. This
Mr. Seward, as an American statesman, had a right to make but a
secondary consideration. By affecting to regard Secession as a mere
political heresy which can be easily confuted, and by forbidding
foreign countries alluding to it, Mr. Seward thinks he can
establish the supremacy of his own Government, and at the same time
gratify the vanity of the people. Even war with us may not be out
of the list of those means which would be available for re-fusing
the broken union into a mass once more. However, the Secretary is
quite confident in what he calls “re-action.” “When the Southern
States,” he says, “see that we mean them no wrong--that we intend
no violence to persons, rights, or things--that the Federal
Government seeks only to fulfil obligations imposed on it in
respect to the national property, they will see their mistake, and
one after another they will come back into the union.” Mr. Seward
anticipates this process will at once begin, and that Secession
will all be done and over in three months--at least, so he says. It
was after midnight ere our conversation was over, much of which of
course I cannot mention in these pages.
_April 9th._--A storm of rain, thunder, and lightning. The streets
are converted into water-courses. From the country we hear of
bridges washed away by inundations, and roads rendered impassable.
Accounts from the South are gloomy, but the _turba Remi_ in
Willard’s are as happy as ever, at least as noisy and as greedy
of place. By-the-by, I observe that my prize-fighting friend of
the battered nose has been rewarded for his exertions at last. He
has been standing drinks all round till he is not able to stand
himself, and he has expressed his determination never to forget
all the people in the passage. I dined at the Legation in the
evening, where there was a small party, and returned to the hotel
in torrents of rain.