London, November 7, 1861
We have just received the account of the disaster to the 20th, and I tell you, I feel bad. That there was a blunder somewhere I have no doubt, and I am inclined to believe that it was Baker and that he paid for it with his life. But to lose Lee and Paul Revere and to have your friends wounded and defeated is not atoned for by the fact of its being a blunder. Thank God it was no worse and that no one was killed. You can imagine I trembled when I ran down the list of losses.
The anxiety with which we are waiting now for the struggle that is coming is not pleasant to bear. A general battle must come before the month is over, and on its result everything will turn. I shall wait to hear of it before I discuss anything about what is to follow.
Affairs here remain in the old position and promise to remain so until there is something decisive on your side. There is no danger of any movement from England, of that you may be sure, and I have done my best to induce the New York press to change its tone towards this country, but they are damned fools, and they will remain damned fools, I suppose, and make our difficulties as great as they possibly can be. The English Government are well disposed enough, at least so far as actions are concerned, and now we hate each other too much to care a brass farthing what our opinions may be, on either side. Last May was the time for the contest of opinions. Now it is the most wretched folly to waste a moment over what this or any other country thinks. We must induce them not to act, but as for their thoughts, I, for one, have been thoroughly satisfied that America can expect no sympathy or assistance in Europe from any Government. They all hate us and fear us, even the most liberal. We must depend wholly on ourselves, and so long as we are strong all will go on, but the instant we lose our strength, down we shall go. The New York press are playing into the hands of the party here which is organized on the basis of antiblockade.
As for me, I am not wholly lazy. A few days ago I called again on Townsend, the editor of the Spectator. He says that the present Ministry will stand and that there will be no interference with us even in the case of another defeat. But he doubts about France. Then I called on “Tom Brown” Hughes and had a long talk with him, but not about politics entirely. He is a regular Englishman and evidently one who prides himself on having the English virtues. He is to ask me to dine with him next week.
But my great gun is the Manchester one. Tomorrow evening I start with a pocketful of letters for Manchester to investigate that good place. With such recommendations I ought to see everything that is to be seen and learn all that is to be learned. I am invited to stay with a Mr. Stell, an American there, and have accepted. My present plan is to report with as much accuracy as possible all my conversations and all my observations, and to send them to you. Perhaps it might make a magazine article; except that it should be printed as soon as possible. If I find that I can make it effective in that form, I shall write it out and send it to you for the Atlantic. If not, I shall contract it and send it to you for the Advertiser or Courier.
As for the matter of your becoming a correspondent of some paper here, I have had it always in my mind, but the difficulty is that every paper here has already one or more American correspondents. I intend to suggest it to Townsend, and should have done so earlier but that I do not think the Spectator cares for correspondents. As for papers against our side, of course I could n’t get you onto one of those, nor would I if I could. George Sumner is writing weekly vile letters in the Morning Post. I wish you would put the screws on him to stop it. He does more harm than his head’s worth. So does Charles, here and at home. They’re both crazy, and George, at least, unprincipled. Charles, though I believe him to be honest, is actuated by selfish motives. . . .
