Proclamation of war--Jefferson Davis--Interview with the
President of the Confederacy--Passport and safe-conduct--Messrs.
Wigfall, Walker, and Benjamin--Privateering and letters of
marque--A reception at Jefferson Davis’s--Dinner at Mr.
Benjamin’s.
_May 9th._--To-day the papers contain a proclamation by the
President of the Confederate States of America, declaring a state
of war between the Confederacy and the United States, and notifying
the issue of letters of marque and reprisal. I went out with Mr.
Wigfall in the forenoon to pay my respects to Mr. Jefferson Davis
at the State Department. Mr. Seward told me that but for Jefferson
Davis the Secession plot could never have been carried out. No
other man of the party had the brain, or the courage and dexterity,
to bring it to a successful issue. All the persons in the Southern
States spoke of him with admiration, though their forms of speech
and thought generally forbid them to be respectful to any one.
There before me was ‘Jeff Davis’ State Department’--a large brick
building, at the corner of a street, with a Confederate flag
floating above it. The door stood open, and “gave” on a large hall
whitewashed, with doors plainly painted belonging to small rooms,
in which was transacted most important business, judging by the
names written on sheets of paper and applied outside, denoting
bureaux of the highest functions. A few clerks were passing in and
out, and one or two gentlemen were on the stairs, but there was no
appearance of any bustle in the building.
We walked straight up-stairs to the first floor, which was
surrounded by doors opening from a quadrangular platform. On one
of these was written simply, “The President.” Mr. Wigfall went
in, and after a moment returned and said, “The President will be
glad to see you; walk in, sir.” When I entered, the President was
engaged with four gentlemen, who were making some offer of aid to
him. He was thanking them “in the name of the Government.” Shaking
hands with each, he saw them to the door, bowed them and Mr.
Wigfall out, and turning to me said, “Mr. Russell, I am glad to
welcome you here, though I fear your appearance is a symptom that
our affairs are not quite prosperous,” or words to that effect.
He then requested me to sit down close to his own chair at his
office-table, and proceeded to speak on general matters, adverting
to the Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny, and asking questions
about Sebastopol, the Redan, and the Siege of Lucknow.
I had an opportunity of observing the President very closely: he
did not impress me as favourably as I had expected, though he is
certainly a very different looking man from Mr. Lincoln. He is like
a gentleman--has a slight, light figure, little exceeding middle
height, and holds himself erect and straight. He was dressed in a
rustic suit of slate-coloured stuff, with a black silk handkerchief
round his neck; his manner is plain, and rather reserved and
drastic; his head is well-formed, with a fine full forehead,
square and high, covered with innumerable fine lines and wrinkles,
features regular, though the cheek-bones are too high, and the
jaws too hollow to be handsome; the lips are thin, flexible, and
curved, the chin square, well defined; the nose very regular,
with wide nostrils; and the eyes deep set, large and full--one
seems nearly blind, and is partly covered with a film, owing to
excruciating attacks of neuralgia and tic. Wonderful to relate, he
does not chew, and is neat and clean-looking, with hair trimmed,
and boots brushed. The expression of his face is anxious, he has a
very haggard, care-worn, and pain-drawn look, though no trace of
anything but the utmost confidence and the greatest decision could
be detected in his conversation. He asked me some general questions
respecting the route I had taken in the States.
I mentioned that I had seen great military preparations through the
South, and was astonished at the alacrity with which the people
sprang to arms. “Yes, sir,” he remarked, and his tone of voice and
manner of speech are rather remarkable for what are considered
Yankee peculiarities, “In Eu-rope” (Mr. Seward also indulges in
that pronunciation) “they laugh at us because of our fondness for
military titles and displays. All your travellers in this country
have commented on the number of generals, and colonels, and majors
all over the States. But the fact is, we are a military people,
and these signs of the fact were ignored. We are not less military
because we have had no great standing armies. But perhaps we are
the only people in the world where gentlemen go to a military
academy who do not intend to follow the profession of arms.”
In the course of our conversation, I asked him to have the goodness
to direct that a sort of passport or protection should be given to
me, as I might possibly fall in with some guerilla leader on my way
northwards, in whose eyes I might not be entitled to safe conduct.
Mr. Davis said, “I shall give such instructions to the Secretary
of War as shall be necessary. But, sir, you are among civilised,
intelligent people who understand your position, and appreciate
your character. We do not seek the sympathy of England by unworthy
means, for we respect ourselves, and we are glad to invite the
scrutiny of men into our acts; as for our motives, we meet the eye
of Heaven.” I thought I could judge from his words that he had the
highest idea of the French as soldiers, but that his feelings and
associations were more identified with England, although he was
quite aware of the difficulty of conquering the repugnance which
exists to slavery.
Mr. Davis made no allusion to the authorities at Washington, but he
asked me if I thought it was supposed in England there would be war
between the two States? I answered, that I was under the impression
the public thought there would be no actual hostilities. “And yet
you see we are driven to take up arms for the defence of our rights
and liberties.”
As I saw an immense mass of papers on his table, I rose and made
my bow, and Mr. Davis, seeing me to the door, gave me his hand and
said, “As long as you may stay among us you shall receive every
facility it is in our power to afford to you, and I shall always be
glad to see you.” Colonel Wigfall was outside, and took me to the
room of the Secretary of War, Mr. Walker, whom we found closeted
with General Beauregard and two other officers in a room full of
maps and plans. He is the kind of man generally represented in
our types of a “Yankee”--tall, lean, straight-haired, angular,
with fiery, impulsive eyes and manner--a ruminator of tobacco and
a profuse spitter--a lawyer, I believe, certainly not a soldier;
ardent, devoted to the cause, and confident to the last degree of
its speedy success.
The news that two more States had joined the Confederacy, making
ten in all, was enough to put them in good humour. “Is it not too
bad these Yankees will not let us go our own way, and keep their
cursed Union to themselves? If they force us to it, we may be
obliged to drive them beyond the Susquehanna.” Beauregard was in
excellent spirits, busy measuring off miles of country with his
compass, as if he were dividing empires.
From this room I proceeded to the office of Mr. Benjamin, the
Attorney-General of the Confederate States, the most brilliant
perhaps of the whole of the famous Southern orators. He is a short,
stout man, with a full face, olive-coloured, and most decidedly
Jewish features, with the brightest large black eyes, one of which
is somewhat diverse from the other, and a brisk, lively, agreeable
manner, combined with much vivacity of speech and quickness of
utterance. He is one of the first lawyers or advocates in the
United States, and had a large practice at Washington, where his
annual receipts from his profession were not less than £8000 to
£10,000 a year. But his love of the card-table rendered him a prey
to older and cooler hands, who waited till the sponge was full at
the end of the session, and then squeezed it to the last drop.
Mr. Benjamin is the most open, frank, and cordial of the
Confederates whom I have yet met. In a few seconds he was telling
me all about the course of Government with respect to privateers
and letters of marque and reprisal, in order probably to ascertain
what were our views in England on the subject. I observed it was
likely the North would not respect their flag, and would treat
their privateers as pirates. “We have an easy remedy for that. For
any man under our flag whom the authorities of the United States
dare to execute, we shall hang two of their people.” “Suppose,
Mr. Attorney-General, England, or any of the great powers which
decreed the abolition of privateering, refuses to recognise your
flag?” “We intend to claim, and do claim, the exercise of all the
rights and privileges of an independent sovereign State, and any
attempt to refuse us the full measure of those rights would be an
act of hostility to our country.” “But if England, for example,
declared your privateers were pirates?” “As the United States
never admitted the principle laid down at the Congress of Paris,
neither have the Confederate States. If England thinks fit to
declare privateers under our flag pirates, it would be nothing more
or less than a declaration of war against us, and we must meet it
as best we can.” In fact, Mr. Benjamin did not appear afraid of
anything; but his confidence respecting Great Britain was based a
good deal, no doubt, on his firm faith in cotton, and in England’s
utter subjection to her cotton interest and manufactures. “All this
coyness about acknowledging a slave power will come right at last.
We hear our commissioners have gone on to Paris, which looks as if
they had met with no encouragement at London; but we are quite
easy in our minds on this point at present.”
So Great Britain is in a pleasant condition. Mr. Seward is
threatening us with war if we recognise the South, and the South
declares that if we don’t recognise their flag, they will take it
as an act of hostility. Lord Lyons is pressed to give an assurance
to the Government at Washington, that under no circumstances will
Great Britain recognise the Southern rebels; but, at the same time,
Mr. Seward refuses to give any assurance whatever, that the right
of neutrals will be respected in the impending struggle.
As I was going down-stairs, Mr. Browne called me into his room.
He said that the Attorney-General and himself were in a state of
perplexity as to the form in which letters of marque and reprisal
should be made out. They had consulted all the books they could
get, but found no examples to suit their case, and he wished to
know, as I was a barrister, whether I could aid him. I told him it
was not so much my regard to my own position as a neutral, as the
_vafri inscitia juris_ which prevented me throwing any light on the
subject. There are not only Yankee shipowners but English firms
ready with sailors and steamers for the Confederate Government, and
the owner of the Camilla might be tempted to part with his yacht by
the offers made to him.
Being invited to attend a levée or reception held by Mrs. Davis,
the President’s wife, I returned to the hotel to prepare for the
occasion. On my way I passed a company of volunteers, one hundred
and twenty artillerymen, and three field-pieces, on their way
to the station for Virginia, followed by a crowd of “citizens”
and negroes of both sexes, cheering vociferously. The band was
playing that excellent quick-step “Dixie.” The men were stout, fine
fellows, dressed in coarse grey tunics with yellow facings, and
French caps. They were armed with smooth-bore muskets, and their
knapsacks were unfit for marching, being waterproof bags slung
from the shoulders. The guns had no caissons, and the shoeing of
the troops was certainly deficient in soleing. The Zouave mania
is quite as rampant here as it is in New York, and the smallest
children are thrust into baggy red breeches, which the learned
Lipsius might have appreciated, and are sent out with flags and tin
swords to impede the highways.
The modest villa in which the President lives is painted
white--another “White House”--and stands in a small garden. The
door was open. A coloured servant took in our names, and Mr.
Browne presented me to Mrs. Davis, whom I could just make out in
the _demi-jour_ of a moderately-sized parlour, surrounded by a few
ladies and gentlemen, the former in bonnets, the latter in morning
dress _à la midi_. There was no affectation of state or ceremony
in the reception. Mrs. Davis, whom some of her friends call “Queen
Varina,” is a comely, sprightly woman, verging on matronhood, of
good figure and manners, well-dressed, ladylike, and clever, and
she seemed a great favourite with those around her, though I did
hear one of them say “It must be very nice to be the President’s
wife, and be the first lady in the Confederate States.” Mrs. Davis,
whom the President C. S. married _en secondes noces_, exercised
considerable social influence in Washington, where I met many
of her friends. She was just now inclined to be angry, because
the papers contained a report that a reward was offered in the
North for the head of the arch rebel Jeff Davis. “They are quite
capable, I believe,” she said, “of such acts.” There were not more
than eighteen or twenty persons present, as each party came in and
staid only for a few moments, and, after a time, I made my bow and
retired, receiving from Mrs. Davis an invitation to come in the
evening, when I would find the President at home.
At sundown, amid great cheering, the guns in front of the State
Department, fired ten rounds to announce that Tennessee and
Arkansas had joined the Confederacy.
In the evening I dined with Mr. Benjamin and his brother-in-law,
a gentleman of New Orleans, Colonel Wigfall coming in at the end
of dinner. The New Orleans people of French descent, or “Creoles,”
as they call themselves, speak French in preference to English,
and Mr. Benjamin’s brother-in-law laboured considerably in trying
to make himself understood in our vernacular. The conversation,
Franco-English, very pleasant, for Mr. Benjamin is agreeable and
lively. He is certain that the English law authorities must advise
the Government that the blockade of the Southern ports is illegal
so long as the President claims them to be ports of the United
States. “At present,” he said, “their paper blockade does no harm;
the season for shipping cotton is over; but in October next, when
the Mississippi is floating cotton by the thousands of bales, and
all our wharfs are full, it is inevitable that the Yankees must
come to trouble with this attempt to coerce us.” Mr. Benjamin
walked back to the hotel with me, and we found our room full of
tobacco-smoke, filibusters, and conversation, in which, as sleep
was impossible, we were obliged to join. I resisted a vigorous
attempt of Mr. G. N. Sanders and a friend of his to take me to
visit a planter who had a beaver-dam some miles outside Montgomery.
They succeeded in capturing Mr. Deasy.