October 19th— Lord Lyons and Mr. Seward were driving and dining together yesterday en ami. To-day, Mr. Seward is engaged demolishing Lord Lyons, or at all events the British Government, in a despatch, wherein he vindicates the proceedings of the United States Government in certain arrests of British subjects which had been complained of, and repudiates the doctrine that the United States Government can be bound by the opinion of the law officers of the Crown respecting the spirit and letter of the American constitution. This is published as a set-off to Mr. Seward’s circular on the seacoast defences which created so much depression and alarm in the Northern States, where it was at the time considered as a warning that a foreign war was imminent, and which has since been generally condemned as feeble and injudicious.
My Diary North and South – William Howard Russell
October 18th.—To-day Lord Lyons drove out with Mr. Seward to inspect the Federal camps, which are now in such order as to be worthy of a visit. It is reported in all the papers that I am going to England, but I have not the smallest intention of giving my enemies here such a treat at present. As Monsieur de Beaumont of the French Legation said, “I presume you are going to remain in Washington for the rest of your life, because I see it stated in the New York journals that you are leaving us in a day or two.”
October 16th.— Day follows day and resembles its predecessor. McClellan is still reviewing, and the North are still waiting for victories and paying money, and the orators are still wrangling over the best way of cooking the hares which they have not yet caught. I visited General McDowell to-day at his tent in Arlington, and found him in a state of divine calm with his wife and parvus Iulus. A public man in the United States is very much like a great firework—he commences with some small scintillations which attract the eye of the public, and then he blazes up and flares out in blue, purple, and orange fires, to the intense admiration of the multitude, and dying out suddenly is thought of no more, his place being taken by a fresh roman candle or Catherine wheel which is thought to be far finer than those which have just dazzled the eyes of the fickle spectators. Human nature is thus severely taxed. The Cabinet of State is like the museum of some cruel naturalist, who seizes his specimens whilst they are alive, bottles them up, forbids them to make as much as a contortion, labelling them “My last President,” “My latest Commander-in-chief,” or “My defeated General,” regarding the smallest signs of life very much as did the French petit maître who rebuked the contortions and screams of the poor wretch who was broken on the wheel, as contrary to bienséance. I am glad that Sir James Ferguson and Mr. Bourke did not leave without making a tour of inspection through the Federal camp, which they did to-day.
October 17th.—Dies non.
October 15th.—Sir James Ferguson and Mr. R. Bourke, who have been travelling in the South and have seen something of the Confederate government and armies, visited us this evening after dinner. They do not seem at all desirous of testing by comparison the relative efficiency of the two armies, which Sir James, at all events, is competent to do. They are impressed by the energy and animosity of the South, which no doubt will have their effect on England also; but it will be difficult to popularize a Slave Republic as a new allied power in England. Two of General McClellan’s aides dropped in, and the meeting abstained from general politics.
October 14th.—I was somewhat distraught, like a small Hercules twixt Vice and Virtue, or Garrick between Comedy and Tragedy, by my desire to tell Duncan the truth, and at the same time respect the feelings of a friend. There was a rabbledom of drunken men in uniforms under our windows, who resisted the patrol clearing the streets, and one fellow drew his bayonet, and, with the support of some of the citizens, said that he would not allow any regular to put a finger on him. D— said he had witnessed scenes just as bad, and talked of lanes in garrison towns in England, and street rows between soldiers and civilians; and I did not venture to tell him the scene we witnessed was the sign of a radical vice in the system of the American army, which is, I believe, incurable in these large masses. Few soldiers would venture to draw their bayonets on a patrol. If they did, their punishment would be tolerably sure and swift, but for all I knew this man would be permitted to go on his way rejoicing. There is news of two Federal reverses to-day. A descent was made on Santa Rosa Island, and Mr. Billy Wilson’s Zouaves were driven under the guns of Pickens, losing in the scurry of the night attack—as prisoner only I am glad to say —poor Major Vogdes, of inquiring memory. Rosecrans, who utterly ignores the advantages of Shaksperian spelling, has been defeated in the West; but D— is quite happy, and goes off to New York contented.
October 13th.—Mr. Duncan, attended by myself and other Britishers, made an extensive excursion through the camps on horseback, and I led him from Arlington to Upton’s House, up by Munson’s Hill, to General Wadsworth’s quarters, where we lunched on camp fare and, from the observatory erected at the rear of the house in which he lives, had a fine view this bright, cold, clear autumn day, of the wonderful expanse of undulating forest lands, streaked by rows of tents, which at last concentrated into vast white patches in the distance, towards Alexandria. The country is desolate, but the camps are flourishing, and that is enough to satisfy most patriots bent upon the subjugation of their enemies.
October 12th.—The good people of New York and of the other Northern cities, excited by the constant reports in the papers of magnificent reviews and unsurpassed military spectacles, begin to flock towards Washington in hundreds, where formerly they came in tens. The woman-kind are particularly anxious to feast their eyes on our glorious Union army. It is natural enough that Americans should feel pride and take pleasure in the spectacle; but the love of economy, the hatred of military despotism, and the frugal virtues of republican government, long since placed aside by the exigencies of the Administration, promise to vanish for ever.
The feeling is well expressed in the remark of a gentleman to whom I was lamenting the civil war: “Well, for my part, I am glad of it. Why should you in Europe have all the fighting to yourself? Why should we not have our Moody battles, and our big generals, and all the rest of it? This will stir up the spirits of our people, do us all a power of good, and end by proving to all of you in Europe, that we are just as good and first-rate in fighting as we are in ships, manufactures, and commerce.”
But the wealthy classes are beginning to feel rather anxious about the disposal of their money: they are paying a large insurance on the Union, and they do not see that anything has been done to stop the leak or to prevent it foundering. Mr. Duncan has arrived; to-day I drove with him to Alexandria, and I think he has been made happy by what he saw, and has no doubt “the Union is all right.” Nothing looks so irresistible as your bayonet till another is seen opposed to it.
October 11th.—Mr. Mure, who has arrived here in wretched health from New Orleans, after a protracted and very unpleasant journey through country swarming with troops mixed with guerillas, tells me that I am more detested in New Orleans than I am in New York. This is ever the fate of the neutral, if the belligerents can get him between them. The Girondins and men of the juste milieu are ever fated to be ground to powder. The charges against me were disposed of by Mr. Mure, who says that what I wrote of in New Orleans was true, and has shown it to be so in his correspondence with the Governor, but, over and beyond that, I am disliked, because I do not praise the peculiar institution. He amused me by adding that the mayor of Jackson, with whom I sojourned, had published “a card,” denying point blank that he had ever breathed a word to indicate that the good citizens around him were not famous for the love of law, order, and life, and a scrupulous regard to personal liberty. I can easily fancy Jackson is not a place where a mayor suspected by the citizens would be exempted from difficulties now and then; and if this disclaimer does my friend any good, he is very heartily welcome to it and more. I have received several letters lately from the parents of minors, asking me to assist them in getting back their sons, who have enlisted illegally in the Federal army. My writ does not run any further than a Federal judge’s.
October 10th.—I got hold of McClellan’s report on the Crimean war, and made a few candid remarks on the performance, which does not evince any capacity beyond the reports of our itinerant artillery officers who are sent from Woolwich abroad for their country’s good. I like the man, but I do not think he is equal to his occasion or his place. There is one little piece of policy which shows he is looking ahead—either to gain the good will of the army, or for some larger object. All his present purpose is to make himself known to the men personally, to familiarize them with his appearance, to gain the acquaintance of the officers; and with this object he spends nearly every day in the camps riding out at nine o’clock, and not returning till long after nightfall, examining the various regiments as he goes along, and having incessant inspections and reviews. He is the first Republican general who could attempt to do all this without incurring censure and suspicion. Unfortunate McDowell could not inspect his small army without receiving a hint that he must not assume such airs, as they were more becoming a military despot than a simple lieutenant of the great democracy.
October 9th.—A cold, gloomy day. I am laid up with the fever and ague, which visit the banks of the Potomac in autumn. It annoyed me the more because General McClellan is making a reconnaissance to-day towards Lewinsville, with 10,000 men. A gentleman from the War Department visited me to-day, and gave me scanty hopes of procuring any assistance from the authorities in taking the field. Civility costs nothing, and certainly if it did United States officials would require high salaries, but they often content themselves with fair words.
There are some things about our neighbours which we may never hope to understand. To-day, for instance, a respectable person, high in office, having been good enough to invite me to his house, added, “You shall see Mrs. A., sir. She is a very pretty and agreeable young lady, and will prove nice society for you,” meaning his wife.
Mr. N. P. Willis was good enough to call on me, and in the course of conversation said, “I hear McClellan tells you everything. When you went away West I was very near going after you, as I suspected you heard something.” Mr. Willis could have had no grounds for this remark, for very certainly it has no foundation in fact. Truth to tell, General McClellan seemed, the last time I saw him, a little alarmed by a paragraph in a New York paper, from the Washington correspondent, in which it was invidiously stated, “General McClellan, attended by Mr. Russell, correspondent of the London Times, visited the camps to-day. All passes to civilians and others were revoked.” There was not the smallest ground for the statement on the day in question, but I am resolved not to contradict anything which is said about me, but the General could not well do so; and one of the favourite devices of the Washington correspondent to fill up his columns, is to write something about me, to state I have been refused passes, or have got them, or whatever else he likes to say.
Calling on the General the other night at his usual time of return, I was told by the orderly, who was closing the door, “The General’s gone to bed tired, and can see no one. He sent the same message to the President, who came inquiring after him ten minutes ago.”
This poor President! He is to be pitied; surrounded by such scenes, and trying with all his might to understand strategy, naval warfare, big guns, the movements of troops, military maps, reconnaissances, occupations, interior and exterior lines, and all the technical details of the art of slaying. He runs from one house to another, armed with plans, papers, reports, recommendations, sometimes good humoured, never angry, occasionally dejected, and always a little fussy. The other night, as I was sitting in the parlour at headquarters, with an English friend who had come to see his old acquaintance the General, walked in a tall man with a navvy’s cap, and an ill-made shooting suit, from the pockets of which protruded paper and bundles. “Well,” said he to Brigadier Van Vliet, who rose to receive him, “is George in?”
“Yes, sir. He’s come back, but is lying down, very much fatigued. I’ll send up, sir, and inform him you wish to see him.”
“Oh, no; I can wait. I think I’ll take supper with him. Well, and what are you now,—I forget your name—are you a major, or a colonel, or a general?” “Whatever you like to make me, sir.”
Seeing that General McClellan would be occupied, I walked out with my friend, who asked me when I got into the street why I stood up when that tall fellow came into the room. “Because it was the President.” “The President of what?” “Of the United States.” “Oh! come, now you’re humbugging me. Let me have another look at him.” He came back more incredulous than ever, but when I assured him I was quite serious, he exclaimed, “I give up the United States after this.”
But for all that, there have been many more courtly presidents who, in a similar crisis, would have displayed less capacity, honesty, and plain dealing than Abraham Lincoln.
