Adams Family Civil War letters; US Minister to the UK and his sons.

Boston, June 10, 1861

I am sorry to see what you say of the possibility of your demanding your passports. Stocks rose in New York on Saturday owing to the reported tenor of your despatches, which must however have been of a tone very different from your letter to me. Still I can’t help thinking that the tenor of the news from this country must create an improvement in England. Now, however, the feeling here is very bitter, and significant intimations fall from some of the leading papers that the July Congress, while it modifies the Morrill tariff so as to assist and help France to the utmost of our power, will indulge in no friendly legislation to England. This is the tone of the Evening Post, a free-trade journal. If England wants to break down the Morrill tariff, her only course is to take the back track and conciliate our good will. . . .

About this war business. A great change has come over my feelings since you left, as I have told you, and I now feel not only a strong inclination to go off, but a conviction that from many points of view I ought to do it. I am twenty-six years old and of course have a right to do as I choose; but I acknowledge, as I have done all along, that great regard is due in this matter to you and your feelings, and now, as heretofore, I shall not go without your consent; but I think you ought to give that consent, if, under certain circumstances, I ask for it. Undoubtedly a further levy will soon be demanded in this war and when it comes there will be an effort made in this state to send forth a model regiment, and already John Palfrey is spoken of as its colonel. I saw Governor Andrew the other evening and he promised me that, in that or any other regiment to be sent from Massachusetts, if I would apply, he would give me a company. Now if such a regiment is raised, I wish to go in it, and I think I have a right to almost demand your assent to my doing so. How does the case stand? I cannot see that in a business point of view I am very necessary to you. Your property and mine would be just as safe and probably better managed in the hands of a man of business, or Sam Frothingham under John’s supervision, than in mine; and of this you must be aware. So how is my presence here necessary to you, which is the only ground on which I think you ought to object? If you say it is, I will give up the idea still, but before saying so I earnestly hope you will consider the matter fairly. You will say there is small glory in a civil war, and this is generally true; but in the civil war in England or in the Revolution here, what should we now think of a man who, in the hour of greatest danger, sat at home reading the papers? For years our family has talked of slavery and of the South, and been most prominent in the contest of words, and now that it has come to blows, does it become us to stand aloof from the conflict? It is not as if I were an only son, though many such have gone; but your family is large and it seems to me almost disgraceful that in after years we should have it to say that of them all not one at this day stood in arms for that government with which our family history is so closely connected. I see all around me going, but I sit in my office and read the papers, for I have nothing else to do. I see great events going on, and a heroic spirit everywhere flashing out, and you ask me for no sufficient cause to stifle my own and, when sitting here at home, I am convinced of my failure as a lawyer, to quietly sink into a real estate agent. I hope you will let me go, for if you should and I return, it will make a man of me; and if I should not return — am I likely to live to a better purpose by going on as I have begun? Perhaps the occasion will not demand it. Perhaps no such regiment will be raised. If it should so happen, however, I earnestly hope for our own credit and that of our name, that you will make no objection to my taking this commission which now I have but to ask for, and going forth to sustain the government and to show that in this matter our family means what it says…

London, June 7, 1861

For after all that may be said, there is not and cannot be any assimilation of manners and social habits between Americans and English people. All intercourse with the aristocratic class is necessarily but formal. We are invited everywhere, and dine out almost every day, but this brings us no nearer. Everybody is civil, but each one has his interests in England, so that a stranger is but an outsider at best. . . .

You may be more interested to know a little about the House of Commons. My diplomatic privilege gives me the entree there, and I have used it twice. The last time was at the close of the debate on the budget, when it was generally understood that the fate of Mr. Gladstone, if not of the whole Cabinet hung on the decision. More than six hundred members were present, and the array showed great equality on the two sides of the House. I had attended on the Monday before and had made up my mind that if the division should follow, the opposition would prevail by a decided vote. The ministry however had influence enough to command an adjournment, and on Thursday the case stood differently. The attack was neither so vigorous nor so confident, whilst the defence was bolder and more strenuous. The first effective stroke came from Lord John Russell, which I did not get in time to hear. The next was from Mr. Cobden, which was plain, direct and evidently telling on the House. The decisive blow came, however, from Mr. Gladstone, who stood like a bull in the arena surrounded by dogs. He began by tossing the very last one who had attacked him, and he went on with every one in turn, until he had them all sprawling on the ground. He is by all odds the best speaker I have heard, and though I cannot think him a very great man, I must award him the palm as a skilful debater. Lord Palmerston is evidently powerful more from his character, talents and position, than from any oratorical qualities. The ministry triumphed by fifteen majority only.

The characteristic of the House is that it is in essence a real deliberative body, whilst our House has ceased to be one. We speak to the people and not to the audience. Hence we make orations and not speeches. I know not how this can be remedied in America. Some members of Parliament tell me that this is perceptibly growing even here. So it must be, in proportion to the control which the people exercise over their representatives. . . .

Boston, June 3, 1861

The war affords them [of Quincy] some diversion for their thoughts and the clash of arms is heard even among the Quincy exempts, who hail John Captain. I drilled them the other evening and a funnier sight I don’t want to see. Imagine a line of pot-bellied, round-shouldered respectabilities of fifty or thereabouts standing in two rows and trying to dance, and you have a fair idea of this justly celebrated corps. I was infinitely delighted when on glancing down the ranks, as I came the heavy military on them. I saw Mr. Robertson and Captain Crane side by side in the front rank, with Mr. Gill and poor old Flint vainly struggling to cover them in the rear. That was too much and I almost smiled right out loud. The only man I saw who could by any possibility be converted into a soldier was, unfortunately, our worthy pastor, Mr. Wells, who however in case of emergency would probably have other duties to perform. There he was, however, with his musket in his hand and it was so refreshing to see a man who seemed able to bend his back that I asked John to make him a sergeant and I believe he promised that he would. By the way, I really do believe we have drawn quite a prize in Wells. He seems to have pleased every one and you don’t know how strange it seems to have some one here who really takes an interest in and means to manage the Parish. I had a short talk with him the other evening and was much pleased. He evidently understands the people here and is going to make his mark, and I have little doubt that if he lives, you ‘ll find the Parish a very different thing when you come home from what it was when you went away. . . .

Charles Francis Adams To His Mother

Fort Independence, May 12, 1861

The truth is that in garrison life, with guard duty three times in two weeks, five hours drill a day and the necessity of waiting on oneself, it is difficult either to write or read much in a room about the size of our bed-room in Boston in which eleven other men are quartered — that is live, eat and sleep — besides myself. Yet I like the life very much and am getting as rugged and hearty as an ox, passing all my time in eating, drilling, sleeping and chaffing. Our mess is made up of very good fellows indeed, all friends of mine, such men as Clark and Pratt, the two celebrated rowers, Tom Motley, Jr., Caspar Crowninshield, Fred d’Hauteville, etc. Our life is one of rigid garrison duty: reveille at half past five with breakfast at six; dress parade at seven; a squad drill at eight and a company drill at ten; at twelve dinner and at three a battalion drill which lasts until half past five, when we have an evening dress parade, which finishes work for those off guard for the day. At six we have tea and amuse ourselves till half past nine, when tattoo beats and we go to bed and after a little sky-larking quickly to sleep. When on guard, which every man is about twice a week, it is rather restless, as for twenty-four hours we are on guard two hours and off four, day and night, and properly can’t leave the guard room; but as our mess are especial friends of the sergeants rules are rather relaxed in our favor. Food is tolerable, coarse but enough, though devilish unclean at times. In our mess each man takes his turn in washing up the dishes and keeping the quarters of the mess clean. So once in ten days or so visitors see the best blood in America, in the person of your son, washing dishes, sweeping floors, wheeling coal, etc., like a family servant. Meanwhile health is superb and I never looked so browned and hearty in my life. . . .

Outside we hear a good deal of a raging military ardor. A good many young men we know are getting commissions, especially in Gordon’s regiment, and from our mess three men went up in one day, among them George R. Russell’s son Henry; but two of them came back, Hal only staying. Sam Quincy they say is a Captain. Elliot Parkman has a commission of some sort in the navy and Dick Goodwin, George Bangs, Rufus Choate, Greely and Pelham Curtis and others with Gordon. . . .