Preparations for war at Charleston--My own departure for
the Southern States--Arrival at Baltimore--Commencement of
hostilities at Fort Sumter--Bombardment of the Fort--General
feeling as to North and South--Slavery--First impressions of the
City of Baltimore--Departure by steamer.
_April 12th._--This morning I received an intimation that the
Government had resolved on taking decisive steps which would lead
to a development of events in the South and test the sincerity of
Secession. The Confederate general at Charleston, Beauregard, has
sent to the Federal officer in command at Sumter, Major Anderson,
to say, that all communication between his garrison and the city
must cease; and, at the same time, or probably before it, the
Government at Washington informed the Confederate authorities that
they intended to forward supplies to Major Anderson, peaceably if
permitted, but at all hazards to send them. The Charleston people
are manning the batteries they have erected against Sumter, have
fired on a vessel under the United States flag, endeavouring to
communicate with the fort, and have called out and organised a
large force in the islands opposite the place and in the city of
Charleston.
I resolved therefore to start for the Southern States to-day,
proceeding by Baltimore to Norfolk instead of going by Richmond,
which was cut off by the floods. Before leaving, I visited Lord
Lyons, Mr. Seward, the French and Russian Ministers; left cards
on the President, Mrs. Lincoln, General Scott, Mr. Douglas, Mr.
Sumner, and others. There was no appearance of any excitement in
Washington, but Lord Lyons mentioned, as an unusual circumstance,
that he had received no telegraphic communication from Mr. Bunch,
the British Consul at Charleston. Some ladies said to me that when
I came back I would find some nice people at Washington, and that
the rail-splitter, his wife, the Sewards, and all the rest of them,
would be driven to the place where they ought to be: “Varina Davis
is a lady, at all events, not like the other. We can’t put up with
such people as these!” A naval officer whom I met, told me, “if the
Government are really going to try force at Charleston, you’ll see
they’ll be beaten, and we’ll have a war between the gentlemen and
the Yankee rowdies; if they attempt violence, you know how that
will end.” The Government are so uneasy that they have put soldiers
into the Capitol, and are preparing it for defence.
At 6 P.M. I drove to the Baltimore station in a storm of rain,
accompanied by Mr. Warre, of the British Legation. In the
train there was a crowd of people, many of them disappointed
place-hunters, and much discussion took place respecting the
propriety of giving supplies to Sumter by force, the weight of
opinion being against the propriety of such a step. The tone
in which the President and his cabinet were spoken of was very
disrespectful. One big man, in a fur coat, who was sitting near
me, said, “Well, darn me if I wouldn’t draw a bead on Old Abe,
Seward--aye, or General Scott himself, though I’ve got a perty
good thing out of them, if they due try to use their soldiers and
sailors to beat down States’ Rights. If they want to go they’ve a
right to go.” To which many said, “That’s so! That’s true!”
When we arrived at Baltimore, at 8 P.M., the streets were deep in
water. A coachman, seeing I was a stranger, asked me two dollars,
or 8_s._ 4_d._, to drive to the Eutaw House, a quarter of a mile
distance; but I was not surprised, as I had paid three-and-a-half
and four dollars to go to dinner and return to the hotel in
Washington. On my arrival, the landlord, no less a person than a
major or colonel, took me aside, and asked me if I had heard the
news. “No, what is it?” “The President of the Telegraph Company
tells me he has received a message from his clerk at Charleston
that the batteries have opened fire on Sumter because the
Government has sent down a fleet to force in supplies.” The news
had, however, spread. The hall and bar of the hotel were full,
and I was asked by many people whom I had never seen in my life,
what my opinions were as to the authenticity of the rumour. There
was nothing surprising in the fact that the Charleston people had
resented any attempt to reinforce the forts, as I was aware, from
the language of the Southern Commissioners, that they would resist
any such attempt to the last, and make it a _casus_ and _causa
belli_.
_April 14._--The Eutaw House is not a very good specimen of an
American hotel, but the landlord does his best to make his guests
comfortable, when he likes them. The American landlord is a despot
who regulates his dominions by ukases affixed to the walls, by
certain state departments called “offices” and “bars,” and who
generally is represented, whilst he is away on some military,
political, or commercial undertaking, by a lieutenant; the deputy
being, if possible, a greater man than the chief. It requires so
much capital to establish a large hotel, that there is little
fear of external competition in the towns. And Americans are so
gregarious that they will not patronise small establishments.
I was the more complimented by the landlord’s attention this
morning when he came to the room, and in much excitement informed
me the news of Fort Sumter being bombarded by the Charleston
batteries was confirmed, “And now,” said he, “there’s no saying
where it will all end.”
After breakfast I was visited by some gentlemen of Baltimore, who
were highly delighted with the news, and I learned from them there
was a probability of their State joining those which had seceded.
The whole feeling of the landed and respectable classes is with
the South. The dislike to the Federal Government at Washington is
largely spiced with personal ridicule and contempt of Mr. Lincoln.
Your Marylander is very tenacious about being a gentleman, and what
he does not consider gentlemanly is simply unfit for anything, far
less for place and authority.
The young draftsman, of whom I spoke, turned up this morning,
having pursued me from Washington. He asked me whether I would
still let him accompany me. I observed that I had no objection,
but that I could not permit such paragraphs in the papers again,
and suggested there would be no difficulty in his travelling by
himself, if he pleased. He replied that his former connection
with a Black Republican paper might lead to his detention or
molestation in the South, but that if he was allowed to come with
me, no one would doubt that he was employed by an illustrated
London paper. The young gentleman will certainly never lose
anything for the want of asking.
At the black barber’s I was meekly interrogated by my attendant as
to my belief in the story of the bombardment. He was astonished to
find a stranger could think the event was probable. “De gen’lmen
of Baltimore will be quite glad ov it. But maybe it’l come bad
after all.” I discovered my barber had strong ideas that the days
of slavery were drawing to an end. “And what will take place then,
do you think?” “Wall, sare,’spose coloured men will be good as
white men.” That is it. They do not understand what a vast gulf
flows between them and the equality of position with the white
race which most of those who have aspirations imagine to be meant
by emancipation. He said the town slave-owners were very severe
and harsh in demanding larger sums than the slaves could earn. The
slaves are sent out to do jobs, to stand for hire, to work on the
quays and docks. Their earnings go to the master, who punishes them
if they do not bring home enough. Sometimes the master is content
with a fixed sum, and all over that amount which the slave can get
may be retained for his private purposes.
Baltimore looks more ancient and respectable than the towns I have
passed through, and the site on which it stands is undulating, so
that the houses have not that flatness and uniformity of height
which make the streets of New York and Philadelphia resemble
those of a toy city magnified. Why Baltimore should be called
the “Monumental City” could not be divined by a stranger. He
would never think that a great town of 250,000 inhabitants could
derive its name from an obelisk cased in white marble to George
Washington, even though it be more than 200 feet high, nor from the
grotesque column called “Battle Monument,” erected to the memory
of those who fell in the skirmish outside the city in which the
British were repulsed in 1814. I could not procure any guide to the
city worth reading, and strolled about at discretion, after a visit
to the Maryland Club, of which I was made an honorary member. At
dark I started for Norfolk, in the steamer “Georgianna.”