Boston, November 29, 1861
What is known of Seward in the Legation? Here his fall has been tremendous. Few men are now more violently attacked on all sides. There is a very prevalent rumor that his mind is at all times befogged with liquor; that he drinks half the time, and people won’t believe me when I laugh at the idea. Then many of his oldest friends here — myself in the number — are utterly perplexed as to what he is doing. We don’t see his mind in the policy of the government anywhere. In fact, we don’t see any policy of the government. He seems not equal to the occasion. He may be overruled in the cabinet and devoting himself to his department; but that is not the popular impression and, though the cabinet is unpopular, if any of it went out he would go. I don’t understand it and my only solution is that Seward’s is one of those calm, philosophic minds which need peaceful times to operate in, when he can study cause and effect and mature his plans for gradually approaching events; but he lacks the energy, decision and “snap” for days like these. . . .
We had a Fast-day the other day and I went to church. I found it fuller than I ever saw it before on a fast-day and Mr. Wells gave us a fast sermon which made some people stare. It was hard on the war and stiff enough, but in laying down his position on slavery his Mississippi life stuck out strong, so strong, in fact, as to lead him to assert that for himself he “did not consider negro servitude as necessarily a wrong.” Some people were a little astonished, but as it was an occasional sermon it will not hurt him any. . . .
Of war news there is none, though what the steamer will carry out I can’t say. The Lexington affair is bad and Fremont has his choice of a series of successes or removal. The real difficulty with him seems to be extravagance. He spends money like water and one draft on the Secretary of the Treasury from him was for $5,800,000, I am told. Still he has an immense hold, which I cannot understand, on the West, and if successful can maintain himself. . . .
