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H|tandard Library Cdition 
 
 AMERICAN STATESMEN 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 JOHN T. MORSE, JR. 
 IN THIRTY-TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. XXIX. 
 
 THE CIVIL WAR 
 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
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American Statesmen 
 
 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 BY HIS SON 
 
 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 
 
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 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 Che Viverside Press, Cambridge 
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 By CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS. 
 
 Copyright, 1900, 
 By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 
 All rights reserved. — 
 
 
 
ffép1- 1947 HILDEBRANDT 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TWENTY-SEVEN years have now elapsed since 
 Mr. Adams returned from Europe, after the 
 Geneva arbitration of 1872, in which he ren- 
 dered his last considerable public service, and it 
 lacks a few days only of thirteen years since his 
 death. No use whatever has hitherto been made 
 of his papers. Though neither in bulk nor in 
 interest equal to the accumulations left by John 
 Adams or by John Quincy Adams, these have 
 none the less a distinct value, shedding, as they 
 do, much contemporaneous light on a period and 
 a struggle which, not improbably, will hereafter 
 be accounted the most momentous in American 
 history. Mr. Adams was not an active letter- 
 writer, or systematic collector of material; but 
 he preserved all his correspondence, together 
 with copies of his own letters, and for over fifty 
 years, from the time he entered Harvard, he 
 kept a diary, in which there is scarcely a break. 
 
 The time has now come when this material 
 may fairly be used. The following sketch is, 
 therefore, in part a preliminary study, and in 
 
vi PREFACE 
 
 part the condensed abstract of a larger and more 
 detailed work already far advanced in prepara- 
 tion. If narrated by another than himself, no 
 matter how skillfully, the career of Mr. Adams 
 would offer not much of interest. One brief 
 volume would amply suffice to do full justice to 
 it. It so chanced, however, that he has told his 
 own story in his own way; the story of a life 
 some of which was passed in a prominent posi- 
 tion, at a great centre, and during a memorable 
 period. This story he has told, too, very simply 
 and directly; but, necessarily, in great detail. 
 When a public character thus gives an account 
 of himself, and what he did and saw, and how 
 he felt, not autobiographically, but jotting it all 
 down from day to day as events developed, he 
 must be given space. In such case, through a 
 too severe condensation the biographer is apt to 
 substitute himself for the man. It has so proved 
 with Mr. Adams; and yet in the larger publica- 
 tion but a small portion of the material he left 
 will be used. 
 
 The present sketch is chiefly biographical. In 
 it only now and then does Mr. Adams speak for 
 himself. The work hereafter forthcoming will 
 be made up in a much greater degree of extracts 
 from his diary, letters, and papers, with only 
 such extraneous matter as may be deemed ne- 
 
PREFACE Vii 
 
 cessary to connect the narrative, and to throw 
 light upon it by means of developments since 
 made, explaining much which was to him at the 
 time he wrote obscure or deceptive. 
 
 Get AA. 
 November 11, 1899. 
 

 
CONTENTS 
 
 . BrrtH AND EDUCATION . 
 
 . Earzuy LIFe . 
 
 . THe MAssAcuusEtts LEGISLATURE 
 
 . THe “ Boston Wuic” 
 
 . Tae FREE-Som Party . 
 
 . THe Ess or THE TIDE 
 
 . Toe AntTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 
 
 . THe AWAKENING 
 
 . THE PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 
 . SEWARD’s FoREIGN WAR PANACEA . 
 
 . Tar TREATY OF PARIS . 
 
 . Tue Trent AFFAIR 
 
 . A Bout witH THE PREMIER. 
 
 . THe Corron FAMINE . 
 
 . THe Crisis 0F RECOGNITION 
 
 . THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION . 
 
 . THe ALABAMA AND THE “ LarRp Rams” 
 . THe YEARS OF FRUITION 
 
 . THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 
 
 . Crosinc YEARS . ; 4 P 
 
 INDEX A ; F , ; : : 
 
4 . 
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ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 CHARLES Francis ADAMS. . .. . . . ~ Frontisptece 
 
 From a photograph by Whipple in the possession 
 of Charles Francis Adams, Esq. 
 Autograph furnished by Mr. Adams. 
 The vignette of Mr. Adams’s home, Quincy, Mass., 
 is from a photograph. Page 
 
 Lorp Joun RussELL. . . arent « Wa pacing 148 
 
 From a photograph by Elliott and Fry. 
 Autograph from a MS. in the Library of the Bos- 
 ton Atheneum. 
 
 oGHARD COBDEN. ..-.-. +... + facing 264 
 From a photograph in the possession of his daugh- 
 ter, Mrs. James Cobden Unwin. 
 Autograph from the William Lloyd Garrison MSS., 
 Boston Public Library. 
 OREO ks kw eo Lfcing 882 
 From a photograph by Elliott and Fry. 
 Autograph from a MS. in the Library of the Bos- 
 ton Athenzum. 
 
CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 BIRTH AND EDUCATION 
 
 THOUGH born in Boston, and, until he was 
 over fifty, passing all his maturer life under New 
 England influences, Charles Francis Adams was 
 of mixed Northern and Southern descent. 
 Pure English on both sides, without a trace, so 
 far as can be ascertained, of Scotch or Irish, 
 much less of continental ancestry, race charac- 
 teristics went with him in the blood, —a factor 
 of no inconsiderable moment in his public life. 
 But while through his father he came of the 
 genuine New England stock, — the Aldens of 
 Plymouth, and the Shepards, Quincys, Nortons, 
 Boylstons, and Basses of the Massachusetts Bay, 
 —on the maternal side he was a Johnson of 
 Maryland. Of this family Governor Thomas 
 Johnson was, in Revolutionary times, the head. 
 An ardent patriot and close personal friend of 
 Washington, he was afterwards not only ap- 
 
2 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 pointed by the first President an associate jus- 
 tice of the Supreme Court, but later was ten- 
 dered the chief justiceship ; which position he 
 declined. A large family, during Revolutionary 
 times the Maryland Johnsons were well repre- 
 sented in the Continental army ; but one brother, 
 Joshua, twelve years the junior of Governor 
 Thomas, had in early life established himself 
 as a merchant in London. When the trans- 
 Atlantic troubles broke out Joshua Johnson 
 removed to France, taking up his abode at 
 Nantes, where he acted as agent of the Mary- 
 land colony. After the peace of 1783 he went 
 back to England; and, in 1785, under the Con- 
 federation, was appointed American consul at 
 London, being the first to hold that office. He 
 lived in a house near Tower Hill; and J. Q. 
 Adams, then representing the United States at 
 the Hague, though recently appointed and con- 
 firmed as minister to Prussia, records in his 
 diary that, at 9 o’clock on the morning of July 
 26, 1797, he went “ to Mr. Johnson’s, and thence 
 to the Church of the parish of All Hallows 
 Barking, where I was married. ... We were 
 married before eleven in the morning, and im- 
 mediately after went out to see Tilney House.” 
 Louisa Catherine, the second of Mr. Johnson’s 
 five daughters, was, on this occasion, the other 
 party to the ceremony. 
 
BIRTH AND EDUCATION 3 
 
 In 1801 J. Q. Adams returned to America. 
 Settling in Boston, he began, rather than re- 
 sumed, the practice of his profession as a law- 
 yer; and, in February, 1803, being then a mem- 
 ber of the Massachusetts State Senate, he was 
 chosen by the legislature United States senator. 
 In 1806 he was further appointed the first 
 Boylston Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory at 
 Harvard. Holding these two positions, now so 
 curiously incompatible, he lived, in 1807, in a 
 frame house which long stood opposite the Com- 
 mon, on the southwest corner of Tremont and 
 Nassau, as Boylston Street was then called, being 
 on part of the present site of the Hotel Touraine. 
 Here, on Tuesday, August 18, 1807, his third 
 child, a son, was born; and nearly four weeks 
 later, on Sunday, September 13th, the father 
 wrote: ‘My child, born the 18th of last month, 
 was this afternoon baptized by Mr. Emerson, and 
 received the name of Charles Francis, — the 
 first of which I gave him in remembrance of 
 my deceased brother, and the second as a token 
 of honour to my old friend and patron, Judge 
 Dana.” The Mr. Emerson here mentioned was 
 then the settled minister of the First Church of 
 Boston, and father of Ralph Waldo Emerson, 
 at the time a child of four years. The “ de- 
 ceased brother,” Charles, a third son of John 
 Adams, had died in New York in December, 
 
£ CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 1801. The connection with “Judge Dana” 
 was more remote, and there was about it a plea- 
 sant sentimental significance. In 1807 Chief 
 Justice Dana had, only about a year before, re- 
 tired from the Supreme Court of Massachusetts ; 
 but twenty-seven years earlier J. Q. Adams, 
 then a boy still in his fourteenth year, had ac- 
 companied him on a futile diplomatic errand 
 to Russia, acting as his secretary and French 
 interpreter. This remote Revolutionary recol- 
 lection now bore fruit in a family name. 
 
 On August 10, 1809, two years after the 
 diary entry above referred to was made, John 
 Quincy Adams, having in 1808 resigned his seat 
 in the Senate and shortly after been appointed 
 by President Madison first minister of the 
 United States to Russia, left Boston, and, driv- 
 ing “over Charles River Bridge to Mr. William 
 Gray’s wharf in Charlestown, there went on 
 board his ship Horace, Captain Beckford, fitted 
 out on a voyage to St. Petersburg direct.” 
 With him went the young Charles Francis, a 
 child not yet two; and “ eight full and eventful 
 years’ were to elapse before, a lad of ten, he 
 was again to see his native town. His educa- 
 tion during those years was of a very desultory 
 character, first in his father’s house at St. 
 Petersburg and later in an English boarding- 
 school. In Russia, French was not only the 
 
BIRTH AND EDUCATION 5 
 
 court language, but the language of society ; 
 and, curiously enough in the case of Americans 
 at that time, both Mr. and Mrs. Adams had 
 passed much of their childhood in France, — he 
 at Paris, she at Nantes. They, therefore, en- 
 joyed the inestimable advantage, placed as they 
 then were, of perfect familiarity with French ; 
 and French thus became the child’s native 
 tongue, that which he talked in preference to 
 any other. After his return home, in 1817, 
 close upon forty-four years were to elapse be- 
 fore he was again in Europe; but when, in 
 1871-72, he served on the Geneva Arbitration, 
 he had occasion to appreciate at its full value 
 that childish familiarity with French acquired 
 more than half a century before. 
 
 At the close of April, 1814, J. Q. Adams left 
 St. Petersburg, under instructions from his gov- 
 ernment to take part in the peace negotiations 
 with Great Britain, shortly afterwards entered 
 upon at Ghent. Mrs. Adams remained, with her 
 child, in Russia until the following winter, 
 awaiting instructions from her husband. The 
 correspondence between father and son, which 
 was to continue until the death of the former, 
 now began, and has still an interest, revealing, 
 as it does, the kindlier, more domestic, and less 
 austere features of the older man’s character. 
 For instance, from Amsterdam in June, 1814, 
 
6 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 he writes to the child, not yet seven, describing 
 how much he had wished his three boys with 
 him in his travels of late, and adding this 
 graphic little pen-and-ink genre sketch of 
 Holland : — 
 
 “Jt is a very curious and beautiful country 
 to see, especially at this season. It is all smooth 
 and level as the floor of a house; a constant 
 succession of green pastures, covered with multi- 
 tudes of sheep and cattle, and intersected with 
 canals upon which the people travel in large 
 covered boats drawn by horses. I am sure it 
 would be a pleasure to you to see the little boys, 
 in large breeches, big enough to make you two 
 suits of clothes, and wooden shoes, and black 
 round wigs, and pipes of tobacco in their 
 mouths; and the little girls, with petticoats 
 stuffed out like an umbrella, coming half down 
 their legs, and blue stockings, and slippers with- 
 out heels, flapping at their feet as they walk 
 along.”’ 
 
 Presently it became evident that J. Q. Adams 
 was not to return to St. Petersburg; so Mrs. 
 Adams, breaking up the establishment there, set 
 out to join her husband somewhere in western 
 Europe, exactly where she did not know; for 
 the times were troublous, and means of commu- 
 nication poor. ‘Taking with her the boy, now 
 in his eighth year, and accompanied only by a 
 
BIRTH AND EDUCATION 7 
 
 servant, she left St. Petersburg in her travel- 
 ing carriage, and found her way in midwinter 
 across Europe, then filled with the troops of 
 the allied armies on their way home after the 
 abdication of Napoleon, and finally joined her 
 husband in Paris on March 238, 1815, at the 
 beginning of the famous “ Hundred Days.” It 
 was a Thursday when she drove up to the hotel 
 in Paris, and Napoleon, fresh from Elba, had on 
 the previous Monday been borne in triumph up 
 the steps of the Tuileries in the arms of his old 
 soldiers, delirious with joy. The journey had 
 been long and trying; but Mrs. Adams was 
 quite equal to the occasion, for she delighted in 
 movement, and never felt so well or so happy as 
 when inside of a traveling carriage. They re- 
 mained at Paris until the middle of May, when 
 J. Q. Adams, who had then been appointed to 
 the English mission, crossed over with his family 
 to London, arriving there just three weeks be- 
 fore the day of Waterloo. When they started 
 for England, Napoleon had not yet left Paris, 
 and Charles Francis always afterwards had a 
 vivid recollection of looking up, a boy in the 
 surging crowd, and seeing the Emperor as he 
 stood in the familiar clothes on the balcony of 
 the Tuileries, acknowledging the acclamations 
 of the multitude below. 
 
 The next two years were passed in England, 
 
8 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 where J. Q. Adams was at last rejoined by his 
 two elder sons, from whom he had been six years 
 separated. John, the second, and his young 
 brother Charles were sent to a boarding-school 
 at Ealing, kept by a Dr. Nicholas, where they 
 made a rough and simultaneous acquaintance 
 with English boys and with the Latin grammar, 
 taught, as that grammar in English schools then 
 was, itself in Latin. It was just after the close 
 of the war of 1812-15, — indeed, the battle of 
 New Orleans and the brilliant engagement in 
 which the Constitution captured the Cyane and 
 Levant had occurred only a few months before, 
 and within the year; so it was in no degree to 
 be wondered at that the two young “ Yankees” 
 did not find their position peculiarly pleasant. 
 The school was a large one, there being in it 
 some two hundred and fifty boys, and on one 
 occasion at least the two Adamses would seem 
 to have had distinctly the advantage; for, in 
 writing to his mother, J. Q. Adams, referring to 
 the school-life, tells her that Dr. Nicholas was 
 “highly diverted with a repartee of John’s to 
 one of the boys, who asked him slyly, whether 
 he had ever been at Washington. No: (said 
 John), but I have been at New Orleans.” In 
 August, 1815, General Scott, fresh from Niagara 
 and Chippewa, was in London. Of course he 
 visited Mr. Adams; and the old soldier never 
 
BIRTH AND EDUCATION 9 
 
 afterwards forgot the fact that, when he was 
 dining at Mr. Adams’s house, young Charles 
 Francis spoke up suddenly, and asked him to 
 tell about his battles in Canada, for use at 
 school. More than twenty years later, while 
 walking with his father through the capitol at 
 Washington, Mr. Adams met General Scott, 
 who recalled the incident, illustrating thereby, 
 as Mr. Adams thought, his well-known personal 
 vanity ; though it would have seemed natural 
 enough, and in no way peculiar to Scott, that, 
 within three months after Waterloo, an Ameri- 
 ean officer should feel gratified to find his name 
 and exploits familiar as household words in the 
 mouth of a boy of eight in England. 
 
 Singular as it may appear, like the French of 
 his infancy at St. Petersburg, this experience at 
 the Ealing boarding-school was of very appre- 
 ciable value to Mr. Adams half a century, later, 
 indeed was a most important educational factor. 
 It caused him to understand the English char- 
 acter. He had come in contact with it as a child 
 in the absolutely natural life of an English 
 school; and when, as a man, he came in contact 
 with it again, an insight did not have to be ac- 
 quired. It had, on the contrary, already been 
 bred, probably beaten, into him; and he acted 
 unconsciously upon it. He was in a degree to 
 the manner born; for, though he retained no 
 
10 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 pleasant memories of the English character or 
 of English boys, he and they had been brought 
 up together in one nursery. 
 
 In 1817, at the beginning of the first admin- 
 istration of Monroe, J. Q. Adams, after cight 
 years’ residence in Europe, was recalled to Amer- 
 ica. Landing in New York with his parents in 
 August, the young Charles Francis was taken 
 immediately to Quincy, where, when his father 
 a month later went to Washington to assume 
 his duties as secretary of state in the Monroe 
 cabinet, he remained in charge of his grand- 
 mother, Mrs. John Adams. Mrs. Adams was 
 then in her seventy-third year, and died thir- 
 teen months later; but never, to the end of Mr: 
 Adams’s life, did the impression her character 
 then made on him fade away. Older than he, 
 and now almost grown up, his two brothers, 
 during their father’s absence in Russia, had 
 been left under her care; and in later life Mr. 
 Adams used to describe his own surprise, shortly 
 after he got home in 1817, at seeing his big 
 brothers actually burst into tears as they tried 
 to exculpate themselves when their grandmo- 
 ther, because of some trifling misconduct, had 
 occasion to rebuke them. At the time he could 
 not understand the feeling of affection and rev- 
 erence with which they regarded her; though 
 a little later he himself fully shared in it. Her 
 
BIRTH AND EDUCATION 11 
 
 death brought with it a change, as complete as 
 it was sad and indescribable, in both the moral 
 atmosphere and the physical surroundings of the 
 house at Quincy; but not until twenty years 
 afterwards did the publication of her letters 
 make apparent to others the cause of the vener- 
 ation with which her descendants looked up to 
 her, and the grounds of her influence over them. 
 
 Immediately after his return to America Mr. 
 Adams entered the Boston Latin School, of 
 which Benjamin Apthorp Gould had then been 
 for three years head master, and came under 
 that teacher’s inspiring personal influence. 
 From childhood upwards a matured, self-con- 
 tained character, he was apparently somewhat a 
 favorite with Mr. Gould, of whom he always 
 afterwards spoke with the utmost respect, while 
 the Latin School and its traditions stood high in 
 his estimation; so high indeed that, as matter 
 of course, he in due time sent to it his own two 
 eldest sons in their turn, with results, to them 
 at least, the reverse of satisfactory. Entering 
 Harvard in 1821, when scarcely fourteen, Mr. 
 Adams graduated in 1825. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 EARLY LIFE 
 
 AFTER graduation, Mr. Adams passed some 
 years at Washington; living in the White 
 House then presided over by his mother, mixing 
 in the society of the place, observing the course 
 of events, and noting down his impressions 
 of the eminent public men of the period, — 
 Randolph, Jackson, Clay, and Webster. In 
 the autumn of 1828, however, Mr. Adams left 
 Washington and went back to Boston, there, as 
 it proved, to take up his residence for the next 
 thirty years. Mr. Webster, in the full swing of 
 his great powers, had advised him that, as things 
 then were, the law was “a man’s only course; ” 
 and Mr. Adams, reflecting on this advice, made 
 up his mind that “ the proper course [for him] 
 to adopt [was] to make the law a profession, so 
 as to rise in character; and, if anything better 
 should present, to take it, provided it [was] 
 really better.’ So, with this in view, he en- 
 tered the office of Mr. Webster as a student in 
 November, 1828. His studies do not seem to 
 have been of long continuance, for, on the 6th 
 
EARLY LIFE 13 
 
 of the following January, being then in his 
 twenty-second year, he was admitted to practice 
 as an attorney; and, six months later, on Sep- 
 tember 5, 1829, he was married, at the family 
 residence in Medford, to Abigail Brown, the 
 youngest child of Peter Chardon Brooks, of 
 Boston, whose other daughters were the wives, 
 the one of Nathaniel L. Frothingham, then and 
 long after, in succession to William Emerson, 
 with one brief intervening ministry, pastor of 
 the First Congregational Church ; the other, of 
 Edward Everett. 
 
 Beginning in December, 1859, and closing in 
 November, 1872, the active public life of Mr. 
 Adams was confined to almost exactly thirteen 
 years ; and to the history of those years, and the 
 share he took in their events, this biography 
 will be mainly devoted. Not that the earlier 
 period lacked interest, or interest having an his- 
 torical bearing, but it was mainly in connec- 
 tion with others, or with great political move- 
 ments then in the more incipient stage. For 
 instance, between 18380 and 1846, the life of 
 Mr. Adams was inseparably interwoven with 
 the career of his father, and, in reality, not less 
 essential to that career than influenced by it. 
 Indeed, the memorable record made by J. Q. 
 Adams from 1832 to 1846 would not have been 
 possible had it not been for the cooperation and 
 
14 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 quiet support he received from his son, whose 
 own direct influence on public questions was 
 meanwhile hardly perceptible. Yet at the be- 
 ginning the son had strenuously opposed the 
 reéntry of the father into public life. ’ 
 
 When, through the election of General Jack- 
 son, J. Q. Adams was retired from the presi- 
 dency, he was in his sixty-second year. Accord- 
 ing to all precedent he thus found himself, in 
 the full enjoyment of his great powers, relegated 
 to what was known as “a dignified retirement.” 
 Meanwhile, adapted to public life, he had an 
 insatiable craving for it. Accustomed to it, 
 from it he derived that enjoyment which ever 
 strong man derives from the exercise of his 
 muscles, intellectual or physical. His son now 
 wanted J. Q. Adams, with the examples of 
 Washington, Jefferson, and Madison before him, 
 quietly to accept the situation, and devote his 
 remaining years to literary pursuits and philo- 
 sophical meditation. To the father this pro- 
 spect was not alluring; for though, by accident 
 of birth, some forty years the elder man of the 
 two, he was in combativeness of disposition con- 
 siderably the younger, and in feelings the less 
 mature. Accordingly, on the first opportunity 
 that offered, he plunged once more into the po- 
 litical current; nor did he again emerge from it. 
 As is well known, he sank in the swim. 
 
EARLY LIFE 15 
 
 Meanwhile when in 1830 he, an ex-Presi- 
 dent, accepted the nomination for Congress ten- 
 dered him from what was then known as the 
 Plymouth district, he took the chances heavily 
 against himself; for at that juncture he was 
 passing through a severe ordeal. During the 
 previous twenty years his career had been one 
 of almost unbroken success. Minister to Russia 
 during the close of the Napoleonic period, nego- 
 tiator of the treaty of Ghent, minister to Great 
 Britain after the war of 1812-15, secretary of 
 state for eight years and President for four, 
 he had passed on from one position to another 
 with a regularity and firmness more sugges- 
 tive of European than American public life. In 
 private, too, he had been sufficiently prosper- 
 ous. His sons had grown up and chosen their 
 professions; two of them were married; his 
 estate, though not large, sufficed for his needs. 
 Suddenly, beginning with the autumn of 1828, 
 calamity succeeded calamity. Defeated by Jack- 
 son in the election of that year, hardly had he 
 been retired from the presidency when he lost 
 his oldest son, suddenly and while on the way 
 to Washington. Five years later another son 
 died. Through the unfortunate business ven- 
 tures of the latter the father had become pecu- 
 niarily involved; and thus, between 1830 and 
 1835, he was confronted at once by political de- 
 
16 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 feat, domestic affliction, and financial ruin. The 
 situation, in every aspect bad, was made appre- 
 clably worse by the fact that the remaining son 
 so disapproved of the father’s return to public 
 life that the two were for a time “not upon 
 terms of perfect cordiality.” 
 
 The elder man, however, bore up bravely ; 
 and, from the spring of 1835, affairs gradually 
 assumed a more cheerful aspect. The father’s 
 course had then unmistakably vindicated itself. 
 He had demonstrated that he was right, — that 
 he understood himself and the situation. So 
 far as he was concerned, the problem of what 
 we are to do with our ex-Presidents did not 
 eall for further consideration. This particular 
 ex-President had developed the capacity to take 
 care of himself; and thenceforth not only did 
 remonstrance cease on the part of the son, but 
 the feeling which gave birth to it changed, as 
 rapidly as silently, into one of pride, loyalty, 
 intense approval, and earnest cooperation. The 
 cooperation, too, was essential. ‘The financial 
 tangle had to be unsnarled ; and, while perfectly 
 tractable and quick to adopt any needful mea- 
 sures of economy, J. Q. Adams could not educate 
 himself to business methods or to those details 
 incident to the care of property. One of the 
 commonly whispered charges against him dur- 
 ing his later years and after his death was an 
 
EARLY LIFE 17 
 
 alleged inclination to parsimony,—a well-de- 
 veloped tendency to New England thrift. The 
 fact was that, by reason of incorrigible care- 
 lessness in private monetary matters, he escaped 
 ruin and want—the fate of his predecessor 
 Monroe — only through prudent management 
 on the part of his son, who, in 1835-36, practi- 
 cally, though with that gentleman’s consent, put 
 the ex-President under financial guardianship. 
 Though his establishment was a modest one, J. 
 Q. Adams, from that time to the end of his life, 
 rarely lived within his income; of which his 
 paltry pay of $1500 or $2000 per annum as a 
 member of Congress was an essential part. The 
 increasing value of such real estate as he owned 
 in Boston and Washington gradually relieved 
 him from any pressing embarrassment; but 
 throughout his congressional career it was solely 
 due to the wholesome oversight thus exercised 
 over him that J. Q. Adams was able to remain 
 in public life. But for it he would have faded 
 out in financial straits. 
 
 Thus vicariously doing his share in public 
 life, Mr. Adams turned his attention more and 
 more to literary, historical, and, incidentally, 
 to political topics. The ‘North American Re- 
 view ” was then the recognized medium through 
 which New England culture found expression ; 
 and towards that medium Mr. Adams naturally 
 
18 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 turned. Between the years 1829 and 18438 
 the “North American” was edited first by 
 Alexander H. Everett, a brother of Edward, 
 and then by Dr. John G. Palfrey, subsequently 
 the historian of New England, Dr. Palfrey suc- 
 ceeding Mr. Everett in 1835. The Review was 
 then a vigorous, well-written, high-toned ‘* quar- 
 terly,”’ modeled on the “ Edinburgh,” of which it 
 was an unpartisan and consequently somewhat 
 colorless American echo. In fact, as compared 
 with its great Scotch prototype, it was slightly 
 suggestive of the play of “* Hamlet,” the part of 
 the Prince of Denmark, in that case personified 
 by Francis Jeffrey, being omitted. To it Mr. 
 Adams, first and last, contributed in all seventeen 
 papers, filling more than four hundred and fifty 
 printed pages, and dealing ordinarily with topics 
 more or less connected with American history, 
 such as the lives of Thomas Hutchinson and 
 Aaron Burr, the Madison Papers and the North- 
 eastern Boundary. Beginning in the January 
 number of 1831, with a review of James Gra- 
 ham’s “ History of the United States,” first 
 published some three years before, and then 
 little known in America, he closed in the num- 
 ber for July, 1846, with an article on the * Let- 
 ters of the Earl of Chesterfield.” 
 
 During all these years, as long before, the 
 papers left by John Adams were still lying 
 
EARLY LIFE 19 
 
 bundled up in the boxes to which, in repeated 
 processes of removals, they had been con- 
 signed, — a vast, unsorted, miscellaneous accu- 
 mulation. It was part of the son’s plan, only 
 slowly and very reluctantly abandoned, that 
 J. Q. Adams should put these papers in order, 
 and prepare from them a biography of his fa- 
 ther ; for, all his life, Mr. Adams labored under 
 the delusion that J. Q. Adams, preéminent as 
 a controversialist and for drawing state papers, 
 had also great literary capacity. Fortunately 
 J. Q. Adams understood himself much better 
 than his son understood him; and, greatly to 
 the discomfiture of the latter, he evinced the 
 utmost indisposition to having anything to do 
 with the John Adams papers or controversies. 
 His son could not account for this indifference ; 
 and yet it seems explicable enough when he 
 records how his father one day, made impatient 
 by his solicitude, exclaimed upon “ the weariness 
 of raking over a stale political excitement.” 
 There was, in truth, in J. Q. Adams a great 
 deal of human nature. Yielding to its im- 
 pulse, he was now again involved in the politi- 
 cal movements at Washington, taking, as his 
 astonished son wrote, ‘‘as much interest as if he 
 was a young man.” So, yielding to the influ- 
 ence of the stronger and more active mind, the 
 son himself next became concerned in questions 
 
20 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 of the day, and for a time ceased to occupy 
 himself with the family papers and contributions 
 to the “* North American.” 
 
 Curiously enough, the mutations of “ this 
 whimsical world,” as he called it, had, during 
 the congressional session of 1835, brought J. Q. 
 Adams into the support, at once vigorous and 
 dramatic, of his victorious rival, now for the 
 second time President. Towards Jackson, per- 
 sonally, his feelings had undergone no ameliora- 
 tion. The Tennessee frontiersman, soldier and 
 politician, offended him from every point of 
 view. “A barbarian and savage, who could 
 scarcely spell his own name,” he had, as Presi- 
 dent, violated both principle and precedent, de- 
 grading “the offices of the heads of depart- 
 ment into mere instruments of his will.” On 
 the other hand, J. Q. Adams entertained deep- 
 seated, almost passionate, convictions on certain 
 fundamental points of national policy and con- 
 stitutional construction ; and upon these points 
 he now found the “ barbarian and savage,” who 
 had supplanted him, standing forth as the un- 
 mistakable champion of the policy for which he 
 had labored and the construction in which he 
 believed, with his own friends and natural allies 
 united in an opposition purely political. The 
 issues were three in number: — South Carolina 
 nullification, known as *“‘ Calhounism ;”’ the com- 
 
EARLY LIFE 21 
 
 plication with France arising out of the non- 
 payment by that country of the indemnity for 
 spoliations provided for in the convention of 
 1831 between the two countries; and, finally, 
 the constitutional issue between the President 
 and the Senate over the executive power of ap- 
 pointment to, and removal from, office. As 
 respects these issues J. Q. Adams felt strongly. 
 To quote his own language in a confidential 
 letter to his son:—‘“I cannot reflect [upon 
 these three subjects] in the aspect which they 
 now bear, and in which they will probably be 
 presented at the ensuing session of Congress, 
 without deep concern and inexpressible anguish. 
 It will be impossible, after the part that I have 
 taken with regard to two of them—the im- 
 pending foreign and domestic war — for me to 
 dodge either of the questions. I led the House 
 upon both of them in the last session. I can- 
 not shrink from advising the House concerning 
 them at the next.” 
 
 To two of these three issues, — those involv- 
 ing the probability of “foreign and domestic 
 war,’ —it is unnecessary here to refer, for 
 their further consideration by the father did not 
 involve the son. It was otherwise with the third 
 issue, that arising out of the participation of the 
 Senate, through its power of confirmation, in 
 the patronage, aud, by means of the patronage, 
 
22 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 in the most intimate executive functions of the 
 government. J. Q. Adams had himself been 
 President ; and, as President, he had grown to 
 look with deepest apprehension on the tendency 
 of the Senate, one branch of the legislative 
 body, to arrogate authority to itself. His ex- 
 perience and sagacity thus led him early to fore- 
 cast what has since developed into a great con- 
 stitutional evil, from that day to this of steady, 
 portentous growth. So, for the moment putting 
 aside the issue with France, and even nullifica- 
 tion, as matters of minor consequence, — ** The 
 Patronage Bill,” he wrote to his son, “is that 
 upon which my feelings and my apprehensions 
 are most intense. I can grind it to impalpable 
 powder before any tribunal but that of Whig 
 federalism, nullification, and ochlocracy; but 
 that is precisely the combination against which 
 I have to contend.” Perhaps it would have 
 been as intelligible if, instead of “* Ochlocracy,” 
 J. Q. Adams had here used the modern substi- 
 tute for that term, ‘“ Democracy ;” but he was 
 at the moment writing, not for publication, but 
 familiarly. So, using such words and figures 
 as first suggested themselves, he went imstine- 
 tively back to the harassing, nerve-destroying 
 trials of his own administration; and, in terms 
 of invective as vehement as they were charac- 
 teristic, proceeded to give his view of the slow 
 
EARLY LIFE 23 
 
 genesis of this measure, and of its subtile and 
 dangerous character as interfering with the con- 
 stitutional allotment of functions. The history 
 of the now forgotten Patronage Bill of 1835 can 
 be briefly told. 
 
 In view of the wholly unprecedented course 
 pursued by Jackson in his distribution of offices, 
 — the introduction in fact of the modern “ spoils 
 system” into our politics, -— Mr. Calhoun, dur- 
 ing the nullification excitement of 1835, reported 
 a measure calculated to reduce the political in- 
 fluence exerted by the Executive through its 
 control of the public patronage. Unfortunately, 
 however, this result, very desirable in itself, was 
 reached through what Mr. Adams held to be the 
 even more pernicious evil of making one branch 
 of the legislative body a participant in the con- 
 trol of that patronage. If this theory obtained, 
 he saw clearly enough — he was told by his own 
 experience — that office-peddling between the 
 President and the Senate would become a recog- 
 nized system, to the lasting deterioration of each 
 asa branch of the government. In the ripeness 
 of time, as history shows, exactly that result 
 came about. Driving at once to the heart of 
 this issue, Mr. Adams saw the thing in all its 
 remote and latent bearings. Unfortunately, Mr. 
 Webster, in his dislike and deep distrust of 
 President Jackson, had -in the session of 1835 
 
24 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 made a speech in support of the Calhoun “ Pat- 
 ronage Bill,” in which he indicated a dissent 
 from the construction given to the Constitution 
 in 1789, by which the power of removal from 
 office was exclusively conceded to the President. 
 His position was unquestionably not in the line 
 of Federalist doctrine or authority; and, in as- 
 suming it, he incurred the outspoken wrath of 
 Jackson’s predecessor. After describing and de- 
 nouncing, with a vehemence almost ludicrous, 
 the combination — Calhoun, Clay, Webster, and 
 White — which, on February 21, 1835, carried 
 this measure through the Senate, he thus went 
 on in his letter to his son: “The most utterly 
 inexcusable [of this combination] because the 
 most glaringly treacherous to his own professed 
 principles is Webster. He is the only Federalist 
 of the gang. The Constitution was the work 
 and the highest glory of the Federal party. The 
 exposition of it which declares all subordinate 
 executive officers removable by the President 
 was the hard-earned victory of the Federal ‘party 
 in the first Congress. Without it the Constitu- 
 tion itself would long since have been a ruin; 
 and now Daniel Webster, the Federal Pharisee 
 of the straightest sect, brought up at the feet of 
 Gamaliel, betrays at once to nullification and 
 Bentonism his party and his country, — tells 
 the world that James Madison blundered in not 
 
EARLY LIFE 25 
 
 knowing that by the Constitution of the United 
 States the appointing power was vested in the 
 President and Senate, that the executive power 
 is no power at all, that no man can tell what is 
 or is not executive power, and that Congress, if 
 they please, may make a secretary of state or an 
 attorney-general for life. 
 
 “¢ Semper ego auditor tantum ? numquamne reponam ?’”? 
 
 It is open to question whether J. Q. Adams 
 here stated the position of Mr. Webster quite as 
 accurately as he quoted Juvenal’s famous line ; 
 but, however this may be, the fierce denuncia- 
 tion produced its effect on his son. The seed 
 this time fell on fertile soil. Once when the 
 younger Oliver Wendell Holmes was discussing 
 some revolutionary views of philosophy with 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson, the transcendentalist 
 advised the neophyte, in bringing out his ideas, 
 to “strike at a king!’ —nothing less than de- 
 throning the Stagyrite himself should satisfy. 
 So, in this case, the younger Adams, then 
 twenty-eight years old, and eager to distinguish 
 himself, was incited by his father to assail on a 
 vital constitutional issue the great ‘“ Defender 
 of the Constitution,’ then fresh from his tri- 
 umph over Hayne. 
 
 J. Q. Adams returned to Quincy early in 
 June, 1835, and, during the months which fol- 
 
26 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 lowed, his son went to work, making, with his 
 assistance and suggestions, a thorough study of 
 the constitutional questions involved in the * Pat- 
 ronage Bill.” The results, read by his father, 
 were “returned with commendation more than 
 enough,” and appeared during the summer in a 
 series of communicated articles printed simulta- 
 neously in the columns of the ‘ Boston Advo- 
 cate”? and the ‘ Centinel.” In the autumn, 
 after careful revision, they were published in 
 pamphlet form, under the title, boldly appropri- 
 ated from Burke, of “* An Appeal from the New 
 to the Old Whigs, by a Whig of the Old 
 School.” This effort of his younger days Mr. 
 Adams always afterwards looked back upon 
 with peculiar satisfaction ; and more than forty 
 years later, when, under the administration of 
 General Grant, the same question again pre- 
 sented itself for discussion and copies of his 
 pamphlet were in some request, after looking it 
 over he laid it down, remarking on its vigor, 
 and expressing the belief that he could not then, 
 in his later and riper life, have done it so well. 
 When published it was by some attributed to the 
 father. “Mr. Woodbury” (then secretary of 
 the treasury), wrote J. Q. Adams from Wash- 
 ington at the end of the following November, 
 “told me that he had read it, and that it was 
 unanswerable. He said that he had perhaps 
 
EARLY LIFE 27 
 
 voted [the other way] upon Mr. Benton’s pro- 
 posed bill in 1826, but that the question had not 
 been discussed upon its true principles. He said 
 that no one could read the pamphlet without 
 being convinced of the true intent of the Consti- 
 tution. [said the pamphlet had been erroneously 
 ascribed to me. I had not written a line of it, 
 but I told him who was the author.” This 
 denial was hardly necessary ; for the produc- 
 tion, though in point and. vigor well worthy of 
 the supposed author, bore none of his ear-marks, 
 It was distinctly a better piece of work than he 
 was capable of at that time and upon that topic; 
 for, while in no way lacking in spirit and ear- 
 nestness, it was more comprehensive, calmer in 
 style, and, from the literary point of view, bet- 
 ter ordered. There was in it less of that vehe- 
 mence of tone, that eagerness for controversy 
 and wealth of invective, which always marred 
 the productions of the father, and which also, 
 curiously enough, instead of being mitigated by 
 years, grew ever upon him. 
 
 To return to the son’s pamphlet: no reprint 
 of the “ Appeal from the New to the Old 
 Whigs” has ever been called for; but at the 
 time and since, whenever the allocation of pow- 
 ers under the federal Constitution has been in 
 discussion, copies have been in request. Even 
 so late as 1897, — sixty-two years after its pub- 
 
28 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 lication, — a brief note was received by a mem- 
 ber of Mr. Adams’s family, from one of the 
 Justices of the Supreme Court of the United 
 States, saying that the old question was once 
 more before that tribunal, that he had in vain 
 sent to the Congressional Library for a copy of 
 the pamphlet, and asking if one. could not be 
 procured for him at Quincy. Though it caused 
 no noticeable sensation, —the Patronage Bill 
 of 1835 having then: already become a yester- 
 day’s political excitement, — the Appeal when 
 published was remarked upon for its research, 
 its grasp of principle and vigor of statement, 
 bringing the author, among other letters, one of 
 kindly commendation from ex-President Madi- 
 son. 
 
 The “ Appeal from the New to the Old 
 Whigs” thus secured for Mr. Adams what he 
 then deeply hungered for, —a degree of personal 
 recognition ; for, in entering upon life, he found 
 himself overweighted by the great reputation of 
 his grandfather and his father, while the latter 
 also overshadowed him by instant prominence. 
 The acts and utterances of the preceding gen- 
 erations were ever on the lips of men, and they 
 had neither knowledge nor expectation of that 
 then rising. So when Mr. Adams thought “ to 
 play off his own bat,” as Lord Palmerston would 
 have expressed it, people, naturally enough, 
 
 
 
EARLY LIFE 29 
 
 attributed the strokes to the veteran in the game. 
 ‘They say it is from my pen, but my father’s 
 brain,” the younger man wrote of the “ Appeal,” 
 in 1835; and, indeed, it was not until he was 
 over fifty that Mr. Adams fairly succeeded in 
 asserting his right to be considered as something 
 more than the son of his father. 
 
 The great political issue of his generation, 
 the issue over African slavery, the agitation of 
 which, really beginning to make itself felt only 
 in 1835, was not to culminate for twenty-five 
 years, had not up to this time (1835) apparently 
 attracted the notice of Mr. Adams; at least, 
 he makes no mention of it. The publication 
 of the “ Liberator” was begun in 1831, and 
 in October, 1835, Garrison was mobbed in 
 Boston. At that time he represented nothing 
 but an idea, — the first faint movement of an 
 awakening public conscience ; but it is curious 
 to notice the instinctive correctness with which 
 the great slave-power and its affiliations divined 
 impending danger. Not guided by reason, their 
 anger and alarm were out of all proportion to 
 the apparent menace; but at the first whisper 
 of attack they, like some fierce wild beast of 
 prey scenting harm from afar, bristled up sav- 
 agely and emitted an ominous growl. 
 
 On the other hand, the gradual growth of 
 the anti-slavery sentiment, the arousing of the 
 
30 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Puritanic, New England conscience not less in- 
 grained in Mr. Adams than in his father, as 
 from time to time now set down in his record, 
 is an instructive study, suggestive of what was 
 then quite generally going on. On August 
 20th, just two months before the Garrison mob, 
 he notes: “The town is full of the abolition 
 projects and the meeting to be held to counter- 
 act them. ‘This takes place to-morrow night at 
 Faneuil Hall; the application is signed by most 
 of our respectable citizens. I am glad I have 
 nothing to do with it.” A few days later, Sep- 
 tember 8th, speaking of one of a series of com- 
 munications he was then making to a newspaper, 
 he says: “ The last takes up the recent excite- 
 
 ment about slavery and abolition, a subject | 
 which it might be wiser not to touch.” Of the 
 Garrison mob, six weeks afterwards, he merely 
 remarks that, “among other things, we have 
 had a mob to put down abolitionists, as if the 
 country was not going to pot fast enough with- 
 out extraordinary help.’’ Then presently : “ The 
 news from Washington is that the question of 
 slavery is driving everything else out of view. 
 My father has opened upon it, rather to my re- 
 gret though not to my surprise. The excitement 
 seems to be so intense as to threaten the worst 
 consequences.” A month later comes the de- 
 spairing groan: “ My father at Washington is 
 
EARLY LIFE 31 
 
 in the midst of a painful struggle, which his 
 unfortunate permanency in public life brings 
 upon him. My judgment was not mistaken 
 when I dissuaded him from it. But, as he is in 
 it, I must do my best to help him out.” This 
 resolve on the part of the son was certainly 
 commendable ; though it is to be feared that, 
 if the father had been able to find no other 
 resource in the difficult position in which he 
 had then placed himself, his danger would have 
 been extreme. Fortunately, on this, as on divers 
 subsequent occasions, he proved quite sufficient 
 in himself; and when, a few weeks later, he 
 emerged in triumph from the conflict, with the 
 floor of the Representatives Hall strewed thick 
 with discomfited opponents, the son could only 
 remark: “It is singular how he continues to 
 sustain himself by the force of his mere abil- 
 ity.” From that time forward, however, the 
 * T-told-you-so ” refrain was no longer heard. 
 The anti-slavery educational footprints are 
 next found in entries like the following: “ Fin- 
 ished this morning Dr. Channing’s pamphlet 
 upon slavery. It is certainly a very powerful 
 production, and worthy of deeper consideration 
 than it has yet been in the way of receiving. 
 Our fashion here is to vote a man down at 
 once without hearing his reasons. This saves 
 much trouble, and dispenses with all necessity 
 
32 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 for argument. Dr. Channing may not be wise 
 to encroach upon a political field, but what he 
 says may have much weight without considering 
 the author.” The man, so far as he had now 
 got, showed the influence of environment, — it 
 was still questionable “ propriety ” on the part 
 of a minister of the church of Christ to express 
 any views on man’s property in man! By the 
 following July he himself had begun to write 
 on the subject in the ‘ Boston Advocate.” “ In 
 my own opinion it is the best thing I ever wrote ; 
 but whether it will meet with much approbation 
 in the world is more than doubtful to me.” A 
 few months later, when his sentiments were 
 asked for, he said: “* While I entirely dissented 
 from the abolition views respecting the District 
 of Columbia, I was yet clearly in favor of dis- 
 cussion, and would by no means give to the prin- 
 ciple of slavery anything more than the tolera- 
 tion which the Constitution has granted.” This 
 position certainly could not be regarded as ex- 
 treme. Events, however, moved rapidly. His 
 father next had, “as usual, fallen into a great 
 trouble,” rousing ‘ the passions of the Southern 
 members to the boiling point.” This was the 
 somewhat famous occasion when Mr. Adams, 
 from his place in the House of Representatives, 
 inquired of the Speaker as to the disposition 
 which would, under the rules of that body, be 
 
EARLY LIFE 33 
 
 made of a petition purporting to come from 
 slaves. The result of the contest thus precipi- 
 tated was again extremely disastrous to the as- 
 sailants of Mr. Adams, who found themselves 
 badly scalded at his hands by the overflow of 
 their own “ boiling passions ;” and two days 
 later the son wrote: ‘*The uproar in Congress 
 has ceased, and my father has carried the day. 
 I hope he will use his victory in moderation.” 
 The months then rolled on, and in November, 
 1837, came the news of the Alton riot with the 
 brutal murder of Lovejoy. It was the legiti- 
 mate outcome of the Garrison mob of two years 
 earlier, and the distant forerunner of border 
 ruffian outrages twenty years later; it was also 
 fuel to the kindling flame. Even when young 
 Mr. Adams was a cold man outwardly, and not 
 quick to move; but once fairly in motion he 
 was apt to be impetuous. Accordingly, when 
 now the Boston city fathers undertook to refuse 
 the use of Faneuil Hall on the application of 
 Dr. Channing and others for a public meeting 
 to protest against mob-rule even in Illinois, Mr. 
 Adams wrote: “ The craven spirit has got about 
 as far in Boston as it can well go. I had a warm 
 argument in Mr. Brooks’s room with two or 
 three of my [wife’s] connections there. They 
 are always of the conservative order, and I can- 
 not often be.” The following day, after listening 
 
34 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 to a sermon in which he traced a disposition to 
 deprecate the excitement over “the case of this 
 Lovejoy,” he met one of his brothers-in-law, who 
 intimated some degree of sympathy with his 
 views; and, recording this surprising fact, he 
 insensibly made use of a form of speech subse- 
 quently very familiar: ‘“ We are not all broken 
 in to the cotton interest then.” 
 
 The following Friday the Faneuil Hall meet- 
 ing was held, — the meeting at which Wendell 
 Phillips, then a young man of twenty-six, made 
 his memorable first appearance as a public 
 speaker. Mr. Adams went :— ‘The hall was 
 very full, and not much time was needed to show 
 that two parties existed in it. Dr. Channing 
 was speaking when I went in. He looked to 
 me somewhat agitated and anxious; but his 
 manner was slow and drawling, which produces 
 more effect in the pulpit than here. His speech 
 seemed to be a kind of justification of himself 
 in moving the public meeting and in preparing 
 the resolutions, which he said he expected and 
 wished to be known [as his] here and every- 
 where. He was followed by G. S. Hillard, who, 
 in a brief and well-turned speech, explained the 
 ground of the public meeting. Thus far things 
 were quiet; but Mr. James T. Austin thought 
 proper to put in a bar to the proceedings. It 
 did not seem clear to me what good object he 
 
EARLY LIFE 35 
 
 could have had, for he produced no substantial 
 course, and limited himself to insulting the mo- 
 tives and proceedings of the abolitionists. This 
 was easily enough done in a city corrupted heart 
 and soul by the principles of slavery, and with 
 a@ majority present almost ready to use force to 
 bear him out, if necessary, right or wrong. His 
 argument was that the mob of Alton was justi- 
 fied by the case. Lovejoy was acting against the 
 safety of the people of Missouri, in a place on 
 the border of the State where the law of that 
 State could not touch him; that, the laws of 
 two States thus conflicting, in a case of immi- 
 nent danger the people rose up in their might 
 and decided for themselves. ‘They did in this 
 case no more than our ancestors, who threw 
 overboard the tea in Boston harbor, — and who 
 thinks of censuring them for a riot? The fact 
 of a clergyman’s falling only showed that a 
 clergyman was out of his place when meddling 
 with the weapons of the flesh, and that he died 
 as the fool dieth. The course of the abolition 
 party was like that of a man who should insist 
 on the liberation of the wild animals of a mena- 
 gerie. Such was the substance of a speech in 
 Faneuil Hall in 1837 of the attorney general 
 of Massachusetts, applauded at every sentence 
 by a large and powerful party of respectable 
 men! I confess my nerves did not stand it very 
 
36 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 well; and, from that moment, I went with the 
 meeting. A young Mr. Phillips followed with 
 some very spirited and ready remarks, which 
 were too stinging not to arouse the feeling of 
 the opponents, and more than once I thought 
 strong symptoms of a riot to be impending. 
 But he finished quickly, and Mr. Bond got up 
 with a mild view of the whole course of pro- 
 ceeding, full of moderation and good practical 
 sense. The resolutions were then voted, though 
 not without opposition, and adjourned. On the 
 whole, it was the most excited public meeting I 
 was ever present at; and, I confess, nothing 
 could exceed the mixed disgust and indignation 
 which moved me, at the doctrines of the learned 
 expounder of mob law.” 
 
 As they worked up their new theory for put- 
 ting, through riot, a stop to discussion, “ the 
 friends of law and order” were at that time 
 manufacturing anti-slavery sentiment rapidly. 
 So a fortnight later Mr. Adams noted that his he- 
 reditary and college associate and friend, young 
 Edmund Quincy, had ‘“ come out a warm aboli- 
 tionist, his letter being published in the ‘ Libera- 
 tor,’ and he having made a speech last evening ;” 
 and added, with a touch almost of sadness: 
 ‘ ] wish I could be an entire abolitionist; but 
 it is impossible. My mind will not come down 
 to the point.” So the result showed. In that 
 
EARLY LIFE 37 
 
 contest he had his place; but not amid the sharp 
 spattering fire of the skirmish line. His place 
 was just behind that fire, in the front rank of 
 the solid, advancing array of battle. To this 
 conclusion he himself had evidently come when, 
 during the following spring, he passed a month 
 in Washington. The fraudulent ‘ Cherokee 
 Treaty ” was then under debate. One day he 
 wrote: “News from Philadelphia of the de- 
 struction by a mob of the hall lately erected 
 for free discussion. Such is the nature and ex- 
 tent of American liberty ;’’ and, shortly after- 
 wards, speaking of the House of Representatives: 
 *“ We heard first General Glascock, and then 
 Mr. Downing, a delegate from Florida, the lat- 
 ter violent and savage. A strong proof of the 
 debased moral principle of the House may be 
 found in the fact that such a speech as this 
 could be listened to with even tolerable patience. 
 It is slavery that is at the bottom of this. I 
 am more satisfied of the fact every day I live; 
 and nothing can save this country from entire 
 perversion, morally and politically, but the pre- 
 dominance of the abolition principle. Whether 
 this will ever take place is very doubtful. I 
 have not much hope.” Then on May 29th, be- 
 ing still in Washington, he adds: “ Much talk 
 of an insurrection of the blacks, supposed to be 
 about to break out at eleven o’clock this night, 
 
38 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS © 
 
 instigated by an abolitionist from New York or 
 elsewhere. ‘The alarm of the whites sufficiently 
 shows the horrors of the slavery system, without 
 the need of exaggeration. Their fears magnify 
 their own danger, and this produces all the vio- 
 lence they dread. I imagine the whole story 
 grows out of a very small affair; but such is 
 the character of the whites that it may not im- 
 probably lead to bad consequences. My mother 
 and the family are always apprehensive at such 
 times of the possible direction of the public feel- 
 ing against my father, for having taken so much 
 part in the matter. I hope she has no cause.” 
 Slavery, however, did not yet occupy the 
 mind of Mr. Adams to the exclusion of all other 
 political topics. That time was coming; it had 
 not yet come. Questions connected with cur- 
 rency and revenue were meanwhile under con- 
 stant discussion,— for those were the days of 
 the battle over the United States Bank, Jack- 
 son’s removal of the deposits, the sub-treasury 
 scheme, and the devastating commercial panic 
 of 1837-38. Upon all these topics, now abso- 
 lutely devoid of interest, Mr. Adams was an 
 active thinker and constant contributor to the 
 newspapers. Series after series of articles from 
 his pen appeared in the ‘“ Boston Centinel”’ and 
 *“* Advocate ;”? and that they attracted so little 
 attention, failing to take the world at once by 
 
EARLY LIFE 39 
 
 storm, was to him, as to most other ambitious 
 young writers before and since, matter for sur- 
 prise, and almost, if not quite, of grievance. 
 
 As an interlude in these occupations Mr. 
 Adams, having at last abandoned in despair all 
 hope of interesting his father in that sacred 
 duty, was slowly overhauling the family manu- 
 scripts; and while doing so, he came across the 
 yellowing files of Revolutionary correspondence. 
 “ A packet I opened,” he wrote one day, “ con- 
 tained the love letters of the old gentleman in 
 1763-66, just before his marriage. They were 
 mostly written during the three or four weeks 
 when he went up to Boston to be inoculated for 
 the smallpox. The subject is, of course, an odd 
 one for lovers, but they both seem so honest and 
 simple-hearted in discussing it.’ And again: 
 “ With what a mixture of feelings do I look 
 over these old papers. They contain the secret 
 history of the lives of a single couple. Joy and 
 sunshine, grief and clouds, sorrow and storms. 
 The vicissitudes are rapid, the incidents are in- 
 teresting. Happy are those who pass through 
 this valley with so much of innocence. Vice 
 stains no one of these pages.” At last the 
 father, evidently in consequence of the talk of 
 the son over what his researches had brought 
 to light, suggested to him the idea of writing 
 a biography of his grandmother. “I do not 
 
40 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS © 
 
 know that this would be beyond my ability,” 
 Mr. Adams modestly wrote; and so he set to 
 work upon it. 
 
 Early in May, 1840, the copy for the “ Let- 
 ters of Mrs. Adams” was submitted to James 
 Brown, then the leading publisher of Boston, 
 who at a glance took in the value of the pro- 
 posed book, and “ strongly recommended going 
 right on;”’ so it went to press at once. In Au- 
 gust the memoir of Mrs. Adams, which was to 
 accompany it, was completed, and the hesitating 
 author submitted it to his wife; who, with more 
 frankness than literary discernment, pronounced 
 it “wordy and conceited, and recommended its 
 being wholly cut down and written over;” 
 whereat, observed Mr. Adams, “I go on rather 
 under discouragement.” The “ discouragement ” 
 was, under the circumstances, not unnatural, but 
 fortunately proved uncalled for. Published 
 early in October, the success of the ‘ Letters ” 
 was immediate and, for a book of the kind in 
 those days, phenomenal. The first edition was 
 exhausted almost at once, and a second of fif- 
 teen hundred copies was called for, which was 
 eagerly taken up as fast as it came from the 
 press; for, of the first batch of two hundred 
 copies, nearly all were sent away ‘‘to supply 
 orders from the South, and the remainder were 
 sold [over the counter] before twelve o’clock.” 
 
EARLY LIFE 41 
 
 Deeply gratified as he was at the success of 
 this his first literary venture, Mr. Adams would 
 have been more gratified yet could he have read 
 the subsequent diary record of his father; for 
 J. Q. Adams was not a demonstrative man, and 
 rarely, except when communing with himself, 
 gave expression to his inmost feelings. So 
 now, on Sunday, September 27, 1840, he wrote 
 that, attending, as was his wont, divine service 
 in the afternoon, whereat a certain Mr. Motte 
 preached upon the evidences of Christianity 
 from the text, John xx. 31, “ my attention and 
 thoughts were too much absorbed by the vol- 
 ume of my Mother’s Letters which my son has 
 published, and of which he sent me this morn- 
 ing acopy. An admirable Memoir of her life 
 written by him is prefixed to the Letters, and 
 the reading of it affected me till the tears 
 streamed down my face. It disabled me for all 
 other occupation, and the arrears of this diary 
 and the sermon of Barrow were forgotten.” 
 
CHAPTER III 
 THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 
 
 THOUGH now in his thirty-fourth year, Mr. 
 Adams had'up to this time evinced no desire to 
 enter active public life. A nomination to the 
 Massachusetts legislature was offered him in 
 1839; but, though equivalent to an election, he 
 had declined it. Governor Everett, Isaac P. 
 Davis, a warm political and personal friend of 
 Mr. Webster, and Robert C. Winthrop, then 
 speaker of the Massachusetts House of Repre- 
 sentatives, all spoke of this to J. Q. Adams, 
 expressing their regret ; and he earnestly remon- 
 strated with his son. It was too late to recon- 
 sider the matter that year; but when, in 1840, 
 a nomination was again offered him, yielding to 
 the very distinctly expressed wish of his father, 
 Mr. Adams accepted. It was the year of the 
 famous 1840 “ Log Cabin” and ‘“ Hard Cider” 
 presidential campaign — probably the most ridic- 
 ulous, and, so far as political discussion was con- 
 cerned, the lowest in tone, the country has ever 
 passed through. As its result, Martin Van 
 Buren was voted out of the presidential chair, 
 
THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 43 
 
 and William Henry Harrison into it,—for the 
 period of one month. He was then succeeded 
 by John Tyler. In this campaign Mr. Adams 
 acted with the Whig party; in 1836 he had 
 voted for Van Buren, though “horrified” by 
 that gentleman’s support, in the Senate, of “ the 
 bill to suppress incendiary publications.” He 
 had then looked upon the New Yorker “as a 
 choice of evils;”’ and it shows the rapid advance 
 of the anti-slavery sentiment in the mind of Mr. 
 Adams, that he now, four years later, wrote: 
 “ Mr. Van Buren bids fair to have in the free 
 States but the seven electoral votes of New 
 Hampshire. So much for ruling the North by 
 party machinery. So much for the Northern 
 man with Southern principles. May this year’s 
 experience bea lesson to all future politicians 
 who sacrifice the interests that ought to be most 
 dear to them, for the sake of truckling to slave- 
 holders.” 
 
 The representatives from Boston to the Mas- 
 sachusetts General Court, some forty in number, 
 were in those days elected on a general ticket, 
 the utterly pernicious district system not having 
 yet been substituted for the original New Eng- 
 land town representation; and the complete 
 groundlessness of the lamentations Mr. Adams 
 was at this period of his life wont to indulge in 
 over supposed family and personal unpopularity 
 
44. CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 must have dawned on his mind when, three days 
 after the election, he wrote: ‘‘The ‘Daily Ad- 
 vertiser’ of this morning tells us that I have 
 received the highest number of votes on the 
 ticket for representatives.” A few days later 
 came a letter from his father, written just after 
 reaching Washington. It closed with this para- 
 graph: “ You are about to enter on the career 
 which is closing upon me, and I feel much more 
 solicitude for you than for myself. You have 
 so reluctantly consented to engage in public life, 
 that I fear you will feel too much annoyed by 
 its troubles and perplexities. You must make 
 up your account to meet and encounter opposi- 
 tion and defeats and slanders and treacheries, 
 and above all fickleness of popular favor, of 
 which an ever memorable example is passing 
 before our eyes. Let me entreat you, whatever 
 may happen to you of that kind, never to be dis- 
 couraged nor soured. Your father and grand- 
 father have fought their way through the world 
 against hosts of adversaries, open and close, dis- 
 guised and masked; with many lukewarm and 
 more than one or two perfidious friends. ‘The 
 world is and will continue to be prolific of such 
 characters. Live in peace with them; never 
 upbraid, never trust them. But — ‘don’t give 
 up the ship!’ Fortify your mind against dis- 
 appointments — zequam memento rebus in arduis 
 
THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 45 
 
 servare mentem,— keep up your courage, and 
 go ahead !”’ 
 
 Mr. Adams remained five years a member of 
 the Massachusetts legislature, — three in the 
 House of Representatives, two in the Senate. 
 In those days its individuality had not been 
 wholly reformed out of the constitution of Mas- 
 sachusetts, and the House still represented the 
 towns, as the Senate did the counties, of the 
 Commonwealth. Both were elected annually, 
 and by a majority vote; the House being a 
 large popular body of some four hundred mem- 
 bers, while the Senate numbered only forty. 
 As the delegations from the large cities and 
 towns were chosen on a general ticket, more or 
 less men of prominence, especially from Boston, 
 were almost sure to be sent to the lower house, 
 while the Senate was apt to be made up of mem- 
 bers having at least a county reputation. The 
 narrowing influence of the district and rotation 
 systems was yet to make itself felt. 
 
 As Mr. Adams wrote, when first mentioned 
 in connection with it, the place of a representa- 
 tive in the Great and General Court of Massa- 
 chusetts is ‘“‘one of little consequence ;” and 
 yet it is not too much to say that his election to 
 that place in 1840, at the age of thirty-three 
 years, was the turning point in his life. The 
 educational influence of his subsequent legisla- 
 
46 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS > 
 
 tive service was immense, — that of Harvard 
 College and of the law were, for him, as nothing 
 to it; for this took him out of himself, brought 
 him in hard contact with others, widened his 
 vision, developed his powers, gave him confi- 
 dence in himself. He ceased to be wholly in- 
 trospective and morbid ; becoming less of a stu- 
 dent, he grew to be more of aman. Gradually 
 and insensibly he came to realize that no preju- 
 dice, either personal or because of family, really 
 existed towards him; but, on the contrary, the 
 great mass of the community actually felt an 
 interest in him and a kindliness to him because 
 of his name and descent, — an interest and a 
 kindliness which, had he himself possessed only 
 a little of the sympathetic quality, had he been 
 only a degree less reserved in nature and repel- 
 lent in manners, would have found expression, 
 then and afterwards, in ways which could not 
 have been otherwise than grateful to him. 
 
 As the self-assigned limit to this form of pub- 
 lic service was in 1845 drawing to a close, Mr. 
 Adams wrote: ‘ After all, the legislation of one 
 of our States is a fatiguing business, — there is 
 a very large amount of small topics of detail. 
 As a school of practice it may answer very well 
 for a time, but perseverance in it has a tendency 
 to narrow the mind at last by habituating it to 
 measure small things. I have endeavored as 
 
THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 47 
 
 far as possible to avoid this effect by keeping 
 myself on topics of general concern.” This was 
 strictly true; and not without ground did he, 
 for his own satisfaction, record a belief that his 
 legislative action had influenced the course of 
 political events, and given him a certain degree 
 of reputation, not only in Massachusetts but in 
 the country at large. ‘“ My position, and I may 
 say it here [in my diary] without incurring the 
 charge of vain-glory, has been earned by hard 
 and incessant labor, in opposition to popular 
 opinion and to the overshadowing influence of 
 my father. ‘The records of the State show that 
 during the five years I have not been wholly 
 idle. The report on the [northeastern] boun- 
 dary, the passage of the districting bill, the 
 repeal of the remnant of the slave code, the 
 protest against the salary bill, the report and 
 law on the Latimer case, the policy concerning 
 Texas, and this South Carolina matter will re- 
 main to testify for me when Lam gone. In all 
 of them my belief is that the same general prin- 
 ciples will be visible.” Finally, on the 26th of 
 March, 1845, the day upon which the last legis- 
 lature in which he ever sat was prorogued, refer- 
 ring to the close of its business, he exultingly 
 wrote : “ My resolutions placing the Whig party 
 and the State on the basis of resistance to slav- 
 ery in the general government, passed the House 
 
48 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 by a vote of five to one, and constitute, as it 
 seems to me, a fair termination of all my labors. 
 No proposition of mine has failed since I have 
 been there ; nor have I on the whole committed 
 any error deserving to degrade me in my own 
 estimation or that of the public. My defects of 
 temper and excessive impetuosity have now and 
 then brought me into error, which I have re- 
 pented. I parted company with the other sen- 
 ators with feelings of regret and good-will.” 
 The record was indeed creditable, and, for 
 a State legislature, in some ways remarkable; 
 for five of the seven subjects which had chiefly 
 occupied his attention, and in respect to which 
 the final statute-book record had taken its shape 
 from him, involved national issues which have 
 left their mark on history. These were (1) the 
 question of the northeastern boundary, settled 
 by the Ashburton treaty of 1842; (2) the law 
 authorizing the marriage of persons of differ- 
 ent color; (8) the Latimer fugitive slave case ; 
 (4) the controversy arising out of the expulsion 
 of Mr. Hoar from South Carolina by the mob 
 of Charleston ; and (5) the resistance to the an- 
 nexation of Texas. All of these questions are 
 now past history,— all save only mere prelimi- 
 naries, remote educational stages, to the great 
 conflict of twenty years later: but, at the time, 
 they had their importance; and each of them 
 
THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 49 
 
 has left its literature, now rarely disturbed, — 
 and, when disturbed, exciting only a languid 
 interest. One day in the early summer of 18338, 
 Mr. Adams busied himself in sorting over and 
 arranging the accumulation of pamphlets in the 
 mansion at Quincy. ‘A large collection,” he 
 wrote; “many good ones, and many very flat, 
 stale and unprofitable. Perhaps it is one of the 
 most singular subjects we have to speculate on, 
 the feeling with which one examines the effu- 
 sions, personal, political, and miscellaneous of 
 past times. All dead and buried in the tomb 
 of the Capulets. All the evidences of the rest- 
 lessness of the human mind.” To these have 
 since been added Mr. Adams’s own discussions 
 of the several issues, then very burning, which 
 have just been enumerated. They here call for 
 no further mention. 
 
CHAPTER SLY 
 THE ‘* BOSTON WHIG ”’ 
 
 “ WEDNESDAY, 20 May, 1846:— Went up 
 by agreement to see Mr. Palfrey, and consult 
 with him about the matter of the newspaper. 
 We finally decided on calling a meeting of those 
 who may be considered as likely to favor the 
 measure, for Saturday morning at 10 o’clock.” 
 
 “ Saturday, 23d May, 1846 : — Called at the 
 State House on Mr. Palfrey,! and went with 
 him up to Lobby No. 13, where were assembled 
 the persons I had suggested as fit to be con- 
 sulted at the present crisis. Stephen C. Phil- 
 lips, John G. Palfrey, Charles Sumner, Henry 
 Wilson and myself. I laid before them the 
 state of my negotiation with the printers, and 
 the terms which had been drawn and accepted. 
 Much discussion ensued. Mr. Phillips seemed 
 more doubtful of the expediency of the project 
 than any of us. He apprehended ugly discus- 
 sions, growing out of the complicated condition 
 
 1 John G, Palfrey at this time held the position of secretary 
 of the Commonwealth; and the office of that functionary was 
 then in the west wing of the State House. 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 51 
 
 of our foreign affairs. Mr. Palfrey seemed 
 earnest to goon. Mr. Wilson, the same. Mr. 
 Sumner also. The two last, however, could not 
 aid in money. It then fell between us three. 
 Mr. Palfrey agreed to assume one fifth; I took 
 two fifths; and Mr. Phillips, not without some 
 hesitation, the balance. The general result was 
 to go on; so here I am about to assume a very 
 great risk.” 
 
 Such is the record, made at the time by Mr. 
 Adams, of a somewhat memorable meeting. 
 The little group of men thus brought together 
 in “State House Lobby No. 13” had very 
 faint if, indeed, any conception of the fact, but 
 the business they had in hand was nothing less 
 than planting the seed from which, in due order 
 of events, was to spring the Republican party 
 of Massachusetts,— indeed it might almost be 
 said, the Republican party of the United States. 
 In other respects, also, the group was noticeable ; 
 for three out of the five persons who made it up 
 had before them eminent public careers in con- 
 nection with events of great historical moment ; 
 _ while, of the remaining two, one was to achieve 
 a lasting reputation as the historian of New 
 England. They were all still comparatively 
 young men ; Palfrey, the eldest, being just fifty, 
 while Wilson was but thirty-four. Sumner, 
 born in 1811, was a year older than Wilson ; 
 
 Wak Hl 1th. Galachirs 
 
52 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Mr. Adams was not yet thirty-nine. The last 
 three were destined, during the memorable war 
 which was to result from the success of the po- 
 litical party into which they were that day 
 breathing life, to represent Massachusetts in 
 the national Senate, and the United States at 
 the court of St. James. Stephen C. Phillips, 
 aman then of forty-five, of great public spirit, 
 most active and useful in the early days of the 
 new party, shortly after withdrew from political 
 work, and in 1857 lost his life in a steamboat 
 disaster on the river St. Lawrence. He had 
 then long ceased to be an active factor in the 
 Massachusetts political situation. 
 
 The years between 1860 and 1868 were so 
 altogether cataclysmic, and the changes then 
 worked so great,—during them the situation 
 was, in a word, so wholly altered, — that the im- 
 mediately preceding, and preparatory, period has 
 already assumed an antediluvian aspect. Hence, 
 it is not altogether easy even to understand 
 the posture of political affairs prior to 1850, or 
 the motives under which men acted, either in 
 Massachusetts or the country at large. More- 
 over, while a great deal of what then took place 
 has been quite forgotten, the residuum, still re- 
 membered, is remembered vaguely, and in the 
 deflecting light of subsequent events. Thus 
 what Mr. Adams and his four friends wanted 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 53 
 
 on that 23d of May, 1846, is now not immedi- 
 ately apparent; neither is it altogether clear 
 whom they were opposing, or why they felt so 
 pressingly the need of a newspaper. The fact 
 was, their time had come. They were simply 
 responding to a need in the process of political 
 evolution. In spite of lamentations then, as 
 always, freely indulged in over the apathy of the 
 public mind and the hopelessly lethargic condi- 
 tion of the popular conscience, the United States 
 in 1846 was neither a moribund, nor yet even 
 a decadent, country. It was, however, threat- 
 ened with disease, and that of a very portentous 
 character. A cancer was steadily eating into its 
 vitals. Though few people, if indeed any, then 
 realized it, the knife was in point of fact already 
 necessary ; a surgical operation, and that a severe 
 one, would alone meet the exigencies of the case. 
 The only real questions were : — first, whether 
 the patient could be brought to submit to the 
 necessary operation; and, second, whether he 
 would survive the operation if he did submit to 
 it. Most fortunately, however, these unpleasant 
 alternatives were not apparent either in 1846 
 or, indeed, during the dozen or more years that 
 ensued. The five men gathered on May 23, 
 1846, in Lobby 13 of the Massachusetts State 
 House certainly did not appreciate the gravity 
 of the affair, or measure the distant, far-reaching 
 
54 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 results they were challenging. They took in the 
 present situation only. That the case was bad, 
 they knew. They saw clearly enough the pro- 
 gress which slavery, as an institution, had al- 
 ready made, and the rapidity with which it was 
 advancing; but they did not fully appreciate 
 the extent to which it had struck its roots into 
 the national existence, much less realize the na- 
 ' ture of the conflict they were invoking. That, 
 if they had realized it, they would, after a long 
 pause and grave deliberation, have gone straight 
 on in the path upon which they were entering, 
 can hardly admit of question; but it does admit 
 of very great question whether they could have 
 induced the North to follow them in that path. 
 The historical truth is, that in the great anti- 
 slavery discussion which began in 1844 and cul- 
 minated in 1860, the North never really believed 
 that an appeal to force was necessary and inev- 
 itable, until, in April, 1861, it found the country 
 face to face with it. It certainly cannot be said 
 that what then occurred had not been predicted. 
 It had been predicted by numerous voices, on 
 many occasions, in the clearest possible manner, 
 and with all necessary emphasis; but. on the 
 other hand, it is equally clear that those who 
 predicted failed to see that, short of death by 
 disease, there was no other way. 
 
 What Mr. Adams and his associates did then 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 55 
 
 clearly see and all they clearly saw, was the im- 
 mediate work cut out for them to do. It was 
 for them to rouse the country to a consciousness 
 of the danger of the situation, and the conse- 
 quences inevitably involved if events went on 
 unchecked. They were mere agencies. To re- 
 vert to the figure already used, their movement 
 was, in the economy of nature, merely an in- 
 stinctive effort of the body politic to contend 
 against disease and throw it off. It was long 
 an open question whether the effort would suc- 
 ceed. That depended on the general health and 
 vitality of the organization; for, in a politico- 
 pathological sense, the health of a community, 
 — its power to resist and overcome disease, may 
 be said to be in almost direct proportion to its 
 moral receptivity, —its tendency to altruism. 
 Loyalty, patriotism, and even religious devotion, 
 very admirable and potent in their way, are 
 qualities of a much lower order. Indeed, these 
 are found quite as fully developed in the savage, 
 as in civilized, man: for barbarous Patagonian 
 tribes, semi-developed Scotch clans, and states 
 far sunk in Spanish decadence are conspicuous 
 for them. When, however, in any given commu- 
 nity, many individuals, regardless of ridicule, 
 epithets, and denunciation, — shouts of “ fire- 
 brand,” “fanatic,” and ‘“ traitor,” — revolt at 
 wrong, or quickly respond to a cry of injustice, 
 
56 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 whether raised on behalf of a person or a class, 
 — Jew, African, or Malay, —the presence of 
 such individuals affords evidence incontroverti- 
 ble of vitality in the community to which they 
 belong ; and the quickness and volume of the 
 response to their appeal measure not inaccu- 
 rately the moral and political soundness of that 
 community. During the period between 1830 
 . and 1850 the tendency to what are known as 
 ‘‘isms”’ in the free States of the Union, and 
 especially in Massachusetts and those of New 
 England progeny at the West, was notorious. 
 The land seemed given over to philanthropists 
 and reformers of the kind generically classified 
 as *“‘ cranks,”’ — long-haired men and short-haired 
 women. Dickens, who was then here, depicted 
 them, and made fun of them ; they shocked anti- 
 slavery men like Richard H. Dana.! None the 
 less, they were the unmistakable symptom of a 
 redundant moral activity. They indicated a 
 body politic full of quickening force. Had these 
 not appeared, or had they been silent, had the 
 United States as a whole then been in at all a 
 decadent state, — in the condition, for instance, 
 of the later Roman Empire, or of Turkey and 
 Spain since the commencement of the seven- 
 teenth century, — the attempt would unquestion- 
 ably have failed. The appeal on behalf of the 
 1 Biography of R. H. Dana, i. 68. 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 57 
 
 African, —the despised “ nigger,” — wasted in 
 the air, would have elicited no response, 
 
 In 1845 the abolition movement had spent 
 its force. Begun by Garrison in 1831 it had, 
 in awakening the public conscience, done a great 
 work, —a work wherein its success was in larg- 
 est degree due to the almost insane anger which 
 its utterances and actions aroused among the 
 slaveholders. In other words, under the irrita- 
 tion of those highly drastic applications, the dis- 
 eased portion of the body politic became acutely 
 inflamed. The whole system throbbed angrily, 
 —almost suppurated. Thus the “ Liberty” 
 movement, as it was called, was effectively adver- 
 tised ; and, without that advertisement, Garri- 
 son’s most strenuous and sustained efforts, and 
 Wendell Phillips’s most eloquent and incisive 
 utterances would never have reached beyond a 
 narrow and in no way influential circle. After 
 the presidential canvass of 1844, the situation 
 rapidly changed, and the extra-constitutional 
 abolition movement, as it had then declared it- 
 self, did not thereafter increase either in force 
 or in influence. On the contrary, it distinctly 
 dwindled ; for, so far as concerned nationality, — 
 the growing and intensifying spirit of Union, — 
 the Garrisonians thenceforth preached non-re- 
 sistance and self-destruction ; the two especial 
 doctrines against which all the instincts of the 
 
58 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS. 
 
 country rose in revolt. Thus, contending with 
 the spirit of the age, the abolitionists met with 
 the fate usual for those who engage in that con- 
 test. Accordingly, from 1844 onward, one great 
 effort of those who afterwards brought the con- 
 flict to a practical, though to them wholly unan- 
 ticipated, issue, was to distinguish their policy 
 from that advocated by Mr. Garrison, and to 
 . work the problem out within the Union and in 
 subordination to the Constitution. It is, there- 
 fore, historically a mistake to treat either Mr. 
 Garrison or Wendell Phillips, after 1844, as 
 leaders in the later and really effective anti- 
 slavery movement, or, indeed, as political factors 
 of consequence. By nature, as well as from long 
 habit, irregulars, at home nowhere except on the 
 skirmish line, very necessary in the earlier opera- 
 tions, they, having brought on the conflict, had 
 done their work; and when the solid lines of 
 battle crashed together, their partisan operations 
 ceased to count. Had they in 1845 wholly dis- 
 appeared from the field, the result would have 
 been in no way other than it was; for, by the 
 country at large— those who had to be rea- 
 soned with, educated, and gradually brought into 
 line — Mr. Garrison was from 1844 to 1861 
 looked upon as an impracticable, cracked-brained 
 fanatic, and Mr. Phillips as a bitter, shrill- 
 voiced, political scold. Not influencing results, 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 59 
 
 they, like guerillas in warfare, were in the later 
 stages of the contest quite as much a hindrance 
 to those with whom, as they were an annoyance 
 to those against whom, they acted. 
 
 On the other hand, in the free States, as well 
 as at the South, the old conventional anti-slavery 
 feeling, — that handed down from the War of 
 Independence and the Fathers of the Republic, 
 and based in greatest part on sentiment and 
 tradition, — was fast fading out. That African 
 slavery, as an industrial institution, was not go- 
 ing to die a natural death had become apparent. 
 On the contrary, most vigorous and decidedly 
 ageressive, it was visibly developing. There 
 were in this or in any other country no more 
 really useful, public-spirited citizens than the 
 shrewd, energetic, clear-headed men, generally 
 belonging to the Whig party, who now in Mas- 
 sachusetts, arraying themselves instinctively in 
 behalf of the Union and the Constitution, ear- 
 nestly deprecated all agitation of slavery, as a 
 political issue. They were right, also, from 
 their point of view. With them the Union was 
 supreme. ‘They rather disliked slavery, and 
 still declaimed against it, averring their abstract 
 abhorrence of it in certain phrases rapidly de- 
 generating into cant; but it may fairly be said 
 that there was no limit to the concessions they 
 would ultimately have been willing to make as 
 
60 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS» 
 
 the alternative to a disruption of the Union. 
 Rufus Choate, for instance, argued earnestly 
 that the return to slavery of a few fugitives 
 from time to time was an insignificant sacrifice 
 on that altar, as compared with the hecatombs 
 inevitably to be sacrificed through civil convul- 
 sion. Leaving honor and self-respect out of the 
 question, he was unquestionably right; but with 
 ‘nations as with individuals, honor and self-re- 
 spect are worth something. Accordingly, when 
 at Cambridge, in June, 1851, Choate took occa- 
 sion to enunciate this latter-day dispensation, 
 the everlasting verities underwent no change. 
 
 That 
 
 ‘‘ rightly to be great 
 Is not to stir without great argument, 
 But greatly to find quarrel in a straw 
 When honor ’s at the stake,” 
 
 remained just as true then as it was when 
 Shakespeare wrote the words two hundred and 
 fifty years before; or as, ten Junes later, it 
 proved to many of those who listened to the 
 eloquent advocate of honor’s effacement. In 
 common with the great mass of the most re- 
 spectable and comfortably circumstanced indi- 
 viduals of the community to which he and they 
 belonged, Mr. Choate failed to realize that the 
 self-respect of a people could not but be more 
 or less blunted, if they saw the land of boasted 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 61 
 
 liberty in which they dwelt converted into a 
 “nigger hunting-ground;” while they them- 
 selves were from time to time called upon in 
 ordered ranks to bear a hand in the work. At 
 best it was repulsive, even though Union-sav- 
 ing. Still, historically speaking, it is not unsafe 
 to say that, between 1845 and 1852, there was 
 no concession, so far as the “ peculiar institu- 
 tion’ was concerned, at which the represent- 
 ative leaders of the Whig party, North as well 
 as South, would have stopped, provided dis- 
 union appeared to be the alternative. If need 
 be they would have submitted, under protest of 
 course, to the complete nationalization of slav- 
 ery. They would have held it the lesser of two 
 evils. 
 
 The fact here stated was recognized at the 
 South by the exponents of the new gospel of 
 slavery. Calhoun counted on it as the prime 
 factor of success in the policy he now laid 
 down. He was never a Disunionist; but he 
 called on the South to bring the North face to 
 face with a dissolution of the Union as the alter- 
 native to unconditional submission. In present- 
 ing this alternative he did not believe that it 
 would lead to disruption, being firmly convinced 
 that, with disruption certain to result from per- 
 sistency, the North would consider no price too 
 great to pay for a united, even though bickering, 
 
62 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 household. For, as he scornfully expressed it, 
 “‘measureless avarice was its ruling passion.” 4 
 
 In this belief the South Carolinian was, as 
 South Carolina afterwards found, dreadfully 
 mistaken ; but, for the time being, it did not so 
 seem. Then and afterwards, Massachusetts was 
 the storm centre; and in Massachusetts the anti- 
 slavery movement, after 1844, assumed a wholly 
 “new phase. It organized: and, while it became 
 constitutional, became also distinctly opportunist 
 and practical. It drew its inspiration from the 
 Declaration of Independence, and sought, so far 
 as African servitude was concerned, to convert 
 the national government from a propagandist to 
 a repressive agency. 
 
 An organ — a newspaper — thus became ne- 
 cessary ; for the new doctrine — after all a species 
 of homeopathic faith-cure— must be voiced, 
 and voiced constantly by those who believed in it. 
 The situation, also, was becoming more and more 
 grave. The admission of Texas had been finally 
 consummated on December 22, 1845; and, on 
 the 11th of May following, President Polk sent 
 to Congress his message, at once famous and 
 infamous, declaring that ‘“ War exists, and not- 
 withstanding all our efforts to avoid it, exists by 
 the act of Mexico itself.” A war of spoliation 
 had thus been entered upon, — a war the pur- 
 
 1 Von Holst, iii. 315-318. 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 63 
 
 pose of which, whether avowed or not, was well 
 known to be the propagation of slavery. The 
 disease was in an obviously acute stage; the 
 cancer was manifestly spreading. 
 
 The President’s war message bore date May 
 11th; the unnoticed, and apparently scarce note- 
 worthy, meeting in State House Lobby No. 138 
 took place just twelve days later, on the 23d, — 
 a@ mere incident, it was, none the less, in a way 
 the response to the great event; for, though it 
 caused no loud or echoing reverberation, it was, 
 as the event showed, the answering gun which 
 signified an acceptance of the challenge. Mean- 
 while, so far as Massachusetts, and more par- 
 ticularly Boston, was concerned, the situation 
 had been further complicated. On May 11th, 
 Mr. Robert C. Winthrop, representing the Bos- 
 ton district in Washington, had gone upon the 
 record as voting in favor of the war measures 
 at once reported to the House of Representa- 
 tives in consequence of Polk’s message. In 
 Massachusetts that vote of his was an event of 
 far-reaching consequence. It made complete 
 and permanent the division between the ‘* Con- 
 science” and the “ Cotton” Whigs; and Mr. 
 Adams was now to become the recognized 
 mouthpiece of the former. 
 
 So far as the establishment of a newspaper 
 was concerned, the feasibility of so doing had 
 
64 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 for some time been under consideration. Dr. 
 Palfrey advocated it earnestly; and the mére 
 Mr. Adams thought of it, the more the idea 
 took possession of him. In dead earnest now 
 on the slavery issue, he had a strong inclination 
 generally towards newspaper utterance. For 
 years he had liked to set forth his views on cur- 
 rent political topics in communicated articles, 
 ‘ usually, as was the custom in those days, run- 
 ning into series, signed ‘ Publicola,”’ “* Junius,” 
 “ Sagitta,” or the like. The trouble was that, 
 with some little experience, not very encoura- 
 ging, as an editorial writer, he had no knowledge 
 whatever, or even conception, of editorial func- 
 tions in the modern sense of the term. 
 
 On the other hand, journalism in 1846 was in 
 the plastic stage. In almost no aspect did it 
 resemble what it has since become. In 1846, the 
 electric telegraph was only two years old; the 
 suburban railroad service was new and imperfect ; 
 the street railway did not exist. People had not 
 yet accustomed themselves to any of these neces- 
 sities of modern existence, much less grown to 
 depend upon them. A newspaper, accordingly, 
 did not then imply its present organization and 
 expense. It was a comparatively simple affair, 
 usually the property and mouthpiece of one man, 
 —jits editor and proprietor. In fact, it is now 
 difficult to realize what a thing of yesterday the 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 65 
 
 newspaper of 1846, though the progenitor of the 
 modern newspaper, then itself was. The ‘ Ad- 
 vertiser,” the first daily paper which had been 
 able to sustain itself in Boston, dated only from 
 the year 1813. The “Courier” followed in 
 1824; and then came the “ Transcript” (1830), 
 the “ Post” (1831), the “ Atlas” (1832), the 
 “ Journal” (1833), and finally the “ Evening 
 Traveller” (1845). The cheap one-cent paper, 
 sold on the street or at the news-stand, was 
 looked upon as an undignified publication, car- 
 rying no weight. Among the high-priced, old- 
 fashioned subscription ‘ blanket sheets,” the 
 * Daily Advertiser’ — “the respectable Daily ” 
 —meant Mr. Nathan Hale; the ‘ Courier,” 
 Mr. Joseph T. Buckingham; and the “ Post,” 
 Mr. Charles G. Greene. They were all organs, 
 too; for independent journalism was only then 
 assuming shape in New York, and the older 
 and more established newspapers depended for 
 their existence on the subscriptions, advertise- 
 ments, and patronage of some mercantile interest 
 or political organization. The “ Advertiser,” 
 for instance, was inspired by Mr. Webster; the 
 *¢ Post” was the recognized organ of the Jackson 
 Democracy ; the ‘ Liberator” — a weekly paper 
 —was the mouthpiece of Mr. Garrison and the 
 extreme abolitionists. The circulation of that 
 day would also now be considered almost ridicu- 
 
66 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 lously small. It is very questionable whether 
 the subscription list of any of the sheets which 
 have been named contained over four thousand 
 names; while an annual net income of $20,000 
 was thought enormous. A circulation of two 
 thousand was looked upon as very respectable. 
 The New York “ Evening Post,” for instance, in 
 1842, printed two thousand five hundred copies ; 
 -the noted and influential “Courier and Enquirer” 
 only seven thousand ; while the “* Herald,” the 
 great sensational journalistic innovator, could 
 boast of but fifteen thousand. The influence of 
 a paper was not, however, by any means mea- 
 sured by its circulation; far less so, indeed, 
 then than now: and hence in great degree, 
 in the mind of Dr. Palfrey, the necessity as 
 well as the feasibility of an organ. Between 
 1840 and 1850 the local —what would in Eu- 
 rope be called the provincial — press was vig- 
 orous and potent. Rapid transportation had 
 not yet laid down the journal of the great city 
 on the doorsteps of every country town as 
 promptly as the news carrier laid it down at 
 those of the houses adjoining the press-room. 
 So every considerable centre in Massachusetts 
 had its paper, —its “ Argus,” its “Spy,” its 
 “ Republican,” its “ Mercury,” its ‘ Courier,” 
 — which again looked to the recognized Boston 
 organ for its news and its inspiration. As Gar- 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 67 
 
 rison had already demonstrated in the case of 
 the ‘ Liberator,” a limited circulation by no 
 means implied a correspondingly restricted in- 
 fluence. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, the showing made to 
 Mr. Adams by the publishers of the “ Whig”’ was 
 the reverse of inspiring. “It” [the paper], he 
 wrote, “‘is far from flourishing. It has but two 
 hundred and twelve paying subscribers, and its 
 debts run on all fours with its income.” It is true 
 that only eleven years before this time the New 
 York * Herald” had been launched on its won- 
 derful career with cash resources of only $500 
 behind it; and, more remarkable still, the 
 ‘Tribune ” had started out so recently as 1841 
 with a borrowed cash capital of but $1000: but 
 both these journals were backed by the enter- 
 prise, energy, and experience of two of the most 
 remarkable born journalists of the century, and 
 they had been merely the prizes in a fascinating 
 lottery which had turned up almost innumera- 
 ble blanks. It is needless to say, also, that Mr. 
 Adams had very few attributes in common with 
 either James Gordon Bennett or Horace Gree- 
 ley. He was rather modeled on the old-fash- 
 ioned pattern of William W. Seaton and Nathan 
 Hale, — types fast vanishing. He had abso- 
 lutely no conception of the journal of the future, 
 as it then loomed vaguely up; while for the 
 
68 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 work such a journal implied he was in every re- 
 spect lacking. Nevertheless the editorship of 
 the “ Boston Whig,” while it carried with it 
 some danger of ignominious failure, did not 
 involve any excessive pecuniary risk. It was 
 only necessary to secure the few hundred dollars 
 immediately needed to keep the concern afloat. 
 This sum was forthcoming from the sources, 
 ’ and in the proportions, already indicated. So, 
 on going to town from Quincy on June 1, 1846, 
 Mr. Adams found himself “saluted with a 
 great bundle of newspapers, the sign of a new 
 vocation,” and, at the same time, read his own 
 opening editorial. The “ Whig” was a blan- 
 ket sheet, as it was called, of the pattern then in 
 vogue. ‘Twenty-two inches by sixteen in size, 
 one of its six-column pages was devoted to edi- 
 torial matter and news, while the three others 
 were filled with advertisements, with the excep- 
 tion of a single column, the first of the first 
 page, which contained the instalment of a serial 
 story, or some other mild literary nutriment of 
 that character. This was the form the “ Whig” 
 had when Mr. Adams assumed editorial charge 
 of it; and this form it retained until his con- 
 nection with it ceased. A two-cent paper, with 
 a subscription price of $5.00 per annum, Mr. 
 Adams’s name nowhere appeared upon it as its 
 editor; nor was he ever its proprietor. He re- 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 69 
 
 ceived no compensation for his services ; in fact 
 the paper, while under his editorial control, was 
 never prosperous enough to pay any compensa- 
 tion. 
 
 The position assumed by the “ Whig” was, 
 from the outset, simple. Remembering the dis- 
 astrous results which followed the Birney move- 
 ment in 1844, it was, in 1846, no believer in third 
 parties as political factors; though, only two 
 years later, in 1848, its action led to the forma- 
 tion of a third party. But parties were merely 
 the means to the attainment of political ends; 
 and the end which the “ Whig” had in view 
 was explicit. ‘Hither,’ it declared, “the pre- 
 sent tide, which is carrying all of our institutions, 
 excepting the forms, into a vortex of which 
 slavery is the moving power, must be stayed by 
 the people of the free States, or, if left to its 
 course, it will bring on, in no very long time, a 
 sudden and total dissolution of the bond of our 
 Union. . . . We feel tolerably confident it may 
 be avoided; but it can only be by one way. 
 That way is the total abolition of slavery, — 
 the complete eradication of the fatal influence it 
 is exercising over the policy of the general gov- 
 ernment.” 
 
 Such was the attitude of the organ of the 
 “Conscience”? Whigs of Massachusetts. The 
 limits assigned to this sketch permit hardly more 
 
70 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 than a reference to the bitter controversies, per- 
 sonal and political, which in Massachusetts 
 between the years 1846 and 1856 marked the 
 breaking up of the Whig party and the forma- 
 tion of the Republican. The story is not lack- 
 ing in interest ; but it has already in main been 
 told both by Henry Wilson, himself an actor in 
 it, and by Edward L. Pierce, not only an actor 
 ‘in it, but subsequently an untiring investigator 
 of it. Upon it Mr. Adams’s contemporaneous 
 record throws much additional light. The 
 period was, too, not only important, but, as re- 
 vealed in his papers, extremely interesting. It 
 has its distinctly humorous, as well as tragic, 
 side. There was in it a vast play of character, 
 and of strong character, as J. Q. Adams, and 
 Webster, and R. C. Winthrop pass off the stage 
 and new men force their way upon it. They all 
 tell their story, and often in their own words as 
 well as by their acts; and while the earnest, 
 angry, acrimonious debate goes on, the dark, 
 ugly, ominous war-cloud rises and spreads in 
 the distant background. It is absorbing, as 
 well as impressive; but the narrative attains 
 almost the dimensions of a history, and will not 
 be compressed into a sketch. Its salient fea- 
 tures only can here be referred to. 
 
 In 1846, when the war with Mexico was en- 
 gineered by the slave power, through the agency 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 71 
 
 of President James K. Polk in firm possession 
 of the national government, there were two 
 Massachusetts public men of the first rank 
 whose attitude, while of especial significance, 
 was altogether uncertain, — Daniel Webster and 
 Robert C. Winthrop. The course of the former, 
 as subsequently developed during the next six 
 years, is matter of familiar history. But it was 
 with the course of the latter that Mr. Adams 
 was more immediately concerned: for the vote 
 of Mr. Winthrop in favor of the Mexican war 
 bill during the previous May was already, in 
 June, 1846, a burning issue ; and, as the months 
 rolled on, it became steadily more so. In re- 
 - gard to that vote Mr. Adams took occasion pre- 
 sently to express himself in the columns of the 
 “ Whig,” though not until two months were 
 gone since it was cast. ‘ We know not, or care 
 not, what the feelings of others may be upon the 
 subject, or whether Mr. Winthrop may not be- 
 come ten times more popular than ever for this 
 act; but, according to the best estimate we can 
 form of political morality, if he could expunge 
 the record of it even by the sacrifice of the 
 memory of all his preceding brilliant career, 
 he would make a bargain. . . . Hither the pre- 
 amble to the war bill tells the truth, or it tells 
 what is not true. If it does tell the truth, then 
 indeed are we all of us wrong, and no one is 
 
72 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 more wrong than Mr. Winthrop, in having here- 
 tofore described the administration policy as 
 inevitably bringing on a state of war on the 
 part of Mexico. If, on the other hand, it does 
 not tell the truth, how could Mr, Winthrop jus- 
 tify it to his own conscience to set his name in 
 perpetual attestation to a falsehood ?” 
 America has never been looked upon as a 
 ‘ field conspicuous for a delicate journalistic re- 
 gard for the amenities of political discussion ; 
 but between 1840 and 1855 certain of the edito- 
 rial writers —it was the “ We” period — set 
 much store, in Boston at least, on what may 
 perhaps best be defined as “tone.”’ It is need- 
 less now to say that there was in this “tone” a. 
 good deal of that which approximates closely to 
 cant. A spade, after all,is a spade ; and, when 
 referring to it, little is gained by describing it 
 as an agricultural implement used in turning 
 the soil. Mr. Adams, as respects slavery and 
 the Mexican war, was thoroughly in earnest; 
 and a man thoroughly in earnest is apt to be 
 outspoken. Neither, until he fairly takes to 
 vituperation, as, unfortunately, is altogether too 
 frequently the case, is the editorial writer open 
 to any just criticism because he makes use of 
 language which does not allow his meaning to 
 escape the reader. As to Mr. Winthrop’s vote 
 of May 11, 1846, as a matter of policy on his 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 73 
 
 part, much may be said in extenuation. None 
 the less, the measure for which he that day voted 
 had been unnecessarily and wantonly amended 
 so as to declare that the war, for which it made 
 provision, existed “by the act of the Republic 
 of Mexico.” This was a falsehood. That it 
 was a falsehood, and a flagrant, palpable, un- 
 blushing falsehood, no man now denies; and 
 history has not failed so to brand it.) Nor at 
 the time was this disputed, except for hypoc- 
 risy’s sake. Henry Clay, for instance, was an 
 unquestioned authority in Whig circles, whether 
 in Massachusetts or elsewhere ; but Henry Clay 
 did not hesitate to describe that measure as “a 
 bill with a palpable falsehood stamped on its 
 face,” and almost passionately exclaimed that 
 he “‘ never, never could have voted” for it. In 
 like manner the “ National Intelligencer,” the 
 official Whig organ, declared that the two 
 Houses of Congress, in passing the bill with 
 that declaration in it, gave “‘ the seal and sanc- 
 tion of their authority to a false principle and a 
 false fact.” Yet when Mr. Adams, writing edi- 
 torially, asked the question how the Boston re- 
 presentative in Congress could justify to his 
 conscience thus setting “‘ his name in perpetual 
 attestation to a falsehood,” the regular Whig 
 papers of the city found their sense of propriety 
 
 1 Von Holst, iii, 250-255, 
 
74 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 greatly shocked by language, which they re- 
 ferred to as “rude and indecorous,” and, more- 
 over, ‘‘ unfounded in truth.” 
 
 The vigor and direct personal character of the 
 assault were, it must be admitted, of a nature 
 calculated to excite surprise in the breasts of 
 the very respectable and altogether well-mean- 
 ing and public-spirited gentlemen who now 
 ‘found themselves the object of almost daily at- 
 tack ; but, on the other hand, subsequent events 
 showed unmistakably that the measures resorted 
 to, and the language used, were no more drastic 
 and severe than the exigency called for. Ata 
 grave crisis in political affairs the publie mind 
 was lethargic, and it had to be aroused. No 
 two citizens of Boston then stood higher in pub- 
 lic estimation than Abbott Lawrence and Nathan 
 Appleton. They stood, too, deservedly high ; 
 for they were men of great business sagacity, 
 high character, and of a public spirit which 
 had been often in evidence. In fact there have 
 not been before or since better examples of the 
 strong, virile, adaptive, and resourceful stock 
 which made and sustains Massachusetts. Solid 
 and intelligent, they were representative men. 
 As respects slavery, however, their views were 
 of the sentimental and submissive order. It was 
 a bad thing, they were wont to say, — very bad ; 
 but one dangerous to agitate, especially from the 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 75 
 
 business point of view; and, after all, no affair 
 of theirs. Like honest Dogberry, having, as in 
 the case of Texas, bid the “ vagrom” man stand, 
 if he would not stand, they would then “ take no 
 note of him, but let him go;” and presently 
 thank God they were “rid of a knave.” Mr. 
 Garrison boldly preached a dissolution of the 
 Union as a remedy, and the only remedy, for 
 the existing state of affairs. Mr. Appleton 
 frankly believed that the so-called ‘* Con- 
 science” Whigs were, as he expressed - it, 
 “playing into the hands of the disunionists ;” 
 and he intimated the strong desire he really felt 
 to save “one of them,” meaning Mr. Sumner, — 
 then looked upon in Beacon Street as a young 
 man of uncommon promise, — from the courses 
 and contamination into which he was then head- 
 long rushing. Seeing things as he did, Mr. Ap- 
 pleton frankly admitted that he held “all the 
 evils of bad legislation and bad administration,” 
 — including slavery, Texas, and the Mexican 
 war, — “light, compared to those which must 
 inevitably flow from a disruption of the States.” 
 That, of course, settled the matter. The “ va- 
 grom”’ man, when bid to stand, had but to 
 refuse to do so, and they would forthwith “ take 
 no note of him, but let him go.” And more- 
 over, like Dogberry, Messrs. Lawrence and 
 Appleton, and those who thought as they 
 
76 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 thought, would on this score make no noise in 
 the streets; “for to babble and to talk” about 
 slavery and other matters, which in no way con- 
 cerned Massachusetts, was *“‘ most tolerable and 
 not to be endured.” 
 
 This way of looking at the situation did not 
 commend itself to Mr. Adams. It had received 
 practical illustration the preceding spring in 
 ‘the point blank refusal of Messrs. Lawrence and 
 Appleton to put their names to the final remon- 
 strance against the admission of Texas to the 
 Union. This proceeding Mr. Adams had not 
 forgotten ; and the “ Whig” at once proceeded to 
 hold Messrs. Lawrence and Appleton personally 
 to account. The latter had in his letter to the 
 anti-Texas Committee used the expression that, 
 to his mind, the Texas question had, as a result 
 of the election of 1844, been “ for all practical 
 purposes settled.” Dr. Palfrey now, in the col- 
 umns of the “ Whig,” rang the changes on that 
 expression. ‘ The question was settled! What 
 if it had been? Did Massachusetts owe nothing 
 then to her principles, her pledges, her charac- 
 ter? Did she owe no record of honorable action 
 to future history ? Have Mr. Appleton and his 
 friends always reasoned thus? . . . The demon- 
 stration of Mr. Appleton and his friends, com- 
 ing, as it did, as unexpectedly as a thunderclap 
 in a clear sky,” did much to embarrass and 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 77 
 
 check “ the vigorous movement of the people,” 
 then daily gathering momentum. Mr. Adams 
 also a few days later added his opinion that, 
 “when a gentleman of such standing in the cot- 
 ton manufacturing interest as Mr. Appleton 
 insults the founders of the Constitution so far 
 as to maintain that ‘it is questionable whether 
 the abolition movement is reconcilable with duty 
 under it,’ we are driven to the conviction that 
 he is not a safe guide in the construction of his 
 neighbor’s duties either to his country or his 
 God.” At the same time Mr. Adams took Mr. 
 Lawrence in hand ina series of letters signed 
 “ Sagitta,” addressed directly to him, after the 
 manner of Junius. These also contained some 
 vigorous specimens of style, — the following for 
 example. Asamanufacturer Mr. Lawrence had 
 evinced a deep interest in the tariff on wool. 
 The remonstrance against the admission of 
 Texas to the Union, Mr. Adams now wrote, 
 *‘ simply asked the representatives of the Union 
 not to sanction a form of government in Texas 
 designed to make slavery perpetual there. And 
 this petition you refused to sign on the ground 
 that the question was already settled, at the very 
 moment when you were ready to move heaven 
 and earth to resist a change in the Tariff of 
 1842. . . . You, who would not give a dollar 
 to defend the rights of man, are announced as 
 
78 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 having paid the expenses of circulating twenty 
 thousand copies of Mr. Stewart’s defense of 
 sheep. . . . To sacrifice mankind, to fasten for- 
 ever the galling chain around the neck of the 
 black man, the other end of which, though you 
 did not know it, was to press upon your own, 
 you were not unwilling to agree beforehand. It 
 was only for the sheep that you preferred to go 
 
 - to the death.” 
 
 Before Mr. Adams had been five months in 
 charge of the “ Boston Whig” the issue between 
 “ Conscience ” and “ Cotton” was defined. Mr. 
 Winthrop’s vote of May 11th presented it; it 
 was emphasized and embittered by a sharp cor- 
 respondence, as yet unpublished, between him 
 and Mr. Sumner, all the details of which were 
 long subsequently recounted by Mr. Pierce ! and 
 by Mr. Winthrop’s son.2, The Whig house was 
 clearly divided against itself; which faction 
 was the larger remained to be seen. The 
 strength of the ‘ Conscience” element lay in 
 the country; in Boston and the larger manu- 
 facturing towns, the “Cotton” influence was 
 more than dominant, it was supreme. The 
 question of mastery was to be decided in the 
 state Whig convention to be held in Faneuil 
 Hall on September 23d. That convention was 
 
 1 Life of Sumner, iii. 114-119. 
 2 Memoir of R. C. Winthrop, 51-56. 
 
THE “BOSTON WHIG” 79 
 
 memorable, marking, as it did, an epoch in the 
 anti-slavery movement. In it Winthrop and 
 Sumner struggled for the ascendency; and an 
 issue was forced. Under the throes of upheaval 
 from the young party of the future within it, 
 the Whig house trembled to its foundations. As 
 the day wore on, the traditional party magnates, 
 alarmed by the strength the new movement de- 
 veloped, and the courage and persistency of its 
 leaders, appealed, as a last resort, to the per- 
 sonal authority of Mr. Webster. IE. L. Pierce, 
 in his life of Sumner, has given a detailed 
 and striking account of what now took place, 
 and still another account, too long for insertion 
 here, is to be found in'the diary of Mr. Adams. 
 Suffice it to say that no more striking scene was 
 ever witnessed in Faneuil Hall. The entrance 
 of Webster upon the stage was a veritable coup 
 de théatre, admirably arranged and skillfully 
 timed by the hard-pressed respectabilities of the 
 organization. It worked also like magic. The 
 tide was running strongly for ‘* Conscience,” 
 and against “ Cotton,” when, late in the Sep- 
 tember day, and after hasty conference among 
 the gray-haired conservatives, Mr. Webster’s 
 son, Fletcher, hurriedly left the hall. Presently 
 he came back, and, whispering to Abbott Law- 
 rence, who was seated on the platform, that 
 gentleman rose and went out. When he came 
 
80 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 back, Daniel Webster was on his arm. The 
 two walked slowly through the excited chamber. 
 The debate had ceased in the presence thus 
 evoked, and all parties rose and joined in a loud 
 demonstration of applause. Without uttering a 
 word the great Whig chieftain took his seat on 
 the platform, — grand, gloomy, impressive. Not 
 a word was necessary; his presence, thus her- 
 alded, sealed the fate of the amendments moved 
 by the “Conscience” faction, and then in de- 
 bate. It was in the brief speech that followed 
 the decisive vote — the “few generalities in- 
 tended as a soother,” as Mr. Adams described 
 them in his account of what occurred — that the 
 great orator made use of a striking simile, since 
 famous, which may well have been suggested to 
 him by a figure of speech used only a few days 
 before by Mr. Adams in an open letter to Mr. 
 Lawrence: “Others rely on other foundations 
 and other hopes for the welfare of the country ; 
 but, for my part, in the dark and troubled uight 
 that is upon us, I see no star above the horizon 
 promising light to guide us but the intelligent, 
 patriotic, united Whig party of the United 
 States.” And this, delivered through the lips 
 of Daniel Webster, was the answer of Abbott 
 Lawrence to the challenge of ‘ Sagitta.” 
 
CHAPTER V 
 THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 
 
 THE Massachusetts canvass of 1846 resulted, 
 as might naturally have been expected, in the 
 total discomfiture of the “ Conscience” Whigs. 
 With them it was as yet only the seeding time. 
 The election that year took place on November 
 10th ; and, as the outcome of the fierce and sus- 
 tained assaults made upon him, Mr. Winthrop 
 was triumphantly sent back to Congress from 
 Boston. Dr. Palfrey, on the other hand, the 
 *‘ Conscience’ Whig candidate for Congress in 
 the adjoining Middlesex district, failed to se- 
 cure a majority, though chosen some weeks later 
 by a narrow margin of votes at a special elec- 
 tion. “This is all of it very bad,” wrote Mr. 
 Adams, ‘‘ and it depressed me much for the rest 
 of the day.” But the depression of his friends 
 he found even greater than his own, “ inasmuch 
 as they attach more consequence to the immedi- 
 ate result. Yet it is unpleasant to meet with a 
 large majority of persons who disagree with you, 
 and who are disposed to rejoice at your defeat. 
 I am prepared for this with a good share of 
 philosophy, and submit to it.” 
 
82 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Immediately after the election Mr. Adams 
 accompanied his mother and his father’s family 
 to Washington, leaving his father himself in 
 Boston. - When on his way from New York to 
 Philadelphia he saw in the newspaper the an- 
 nouncement that J. Q. Adams had suffered a 
 paralytic shock on the previous Thursday ; and 
 it is noticeable as evidence of how very slowly 
 information traveled in those days, only half a 
 century ago, that information of an event of 
 such public, and, to him, domestic interest, oc- 
 curring Thursday morning in Boston, reached 
 him only while leaving New York on Saturday, 
 and then through the newspapers. Indulging 
 in no delusive hopes of recovery, he realized the 
 full extent of the loss. ‘ However light that 
 blow may be,” he wrote on the day he heard of 
 it, “ there it is; and, at eighty, not to be reme- 
 died.” It so proved. 
 
 A period of political gloom, as of domestic 
 anxiety, now ensued. In spite of a languishing 
 subscription list, the “* Whig,” with a firm front, 
 persisted in its course; and when, the following 
 autumn, the next annual convention of the Whig 
 party was held, this time at Springfield, the 
 struggle between the two factions was renewed. 
 The as yet unwritten history of this gathering 
 can here be no more than alluded to, though it 
 still has an interest, and, at the moment, was of 
 
THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 83 
 
 great historical significance. Mr. Webster was 
 present in person, pleading for a nomination to 
 the presidency. Winthrop and Sumner both 
 were there, renewing their wrestle of the year 
 before. George Ashmun, George T. Curtis, 
 Charles Allen, Stephen C. Phillips, and Dr. 
 Palfrey all figured prominently ; while Mr. Ad- 
 ams outlined the policy and directed the opera- 
 tions of the “ Conscience” element. Practically 
 it resulted in a drawn battle. 
 
 Though Mr. Webster on this occasion favored 
 the convention with an address two hours in de- 
 livery, his biographer has made no mention of 
 the fact, notwithstanding he was himself a dele- 
 gate and listener. The reason is obvious. Mr. 
 ’ Webster at that time was engaged in the difficult 
 politico-acrobatic feat of endeavoring to ride two 
 horses at once, they going in opposite directions. 
 On the one side was the Southern wing of “ the 
 intelligent, patriotic, united Whig party of the 
 United States,” fast drifting into the pro-slavery 
 Democracy ; on the other were the “ Conscience” 
 Whigs of Massachusetts driving headlong to- 
 wards the Republican organization of the future. 
 Mr. Webster’s wish was to hold the two together 
 in support of himself. That day he had to plead 
 his cause before the ‘‘ Conscience”’ tribunal ; and, 
 in doing so, he touched what proved for him the 
 high-water mark of anti-slavery sentiment. He 
 
84 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 even claimed the famous “ Wilmot proviso” as 
 his “thunder.” In return, he secured an indorse- 
 ment, such as it was, for the presidential nomi- 
 nation of the following year. In view of the 
 course he subsequently pursued and his later 
 utterances, the fact that Mr. Curtis ignored the 
 incident in his biography affords no more occa- 
 sion for surprise than that Mr. Webster’s re- 
 marks are omitted from the authorized edition 
 of his Speeches. 
 
 Mr. Pierce refers briefly to the convention, in 
 his biography of Sumner;! but that day Mr. 
 Webster’s successor in the Senate did not score 
 more of a success than Mr. Webster himself. 
 Mr. Sumner’s speech had the merit of brevity, 
 for him; but no other: and, as it appears in his 
 “‘ Works,” ? it is characteristic of his worst style, 
 — the overloaded, rhetorico-classical. Mr. Ad- 
 ams wrote that, in delivery, it ‘sounded out of 
 place and pointless.” The honors of the occa- 
 sion belonged distinctly to Mr. Winthrop, who 
 not only spoke several times, but carried his 
 point, greatly to his own satisfaction ;° and for 
 satisfaction, he had good cause. That day he 
 made a long stride towards Whig leadership. 
 “Sumner,” Mr. Adams wrote, was “the only 
 one of our friends much depressed ;”’ though his 
 
 1 Vol. iii. pp. 144-146, 2 Vol. ii. pp. 76-88. 
 3 Memoir, p. 65. 
 
THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 85 
 
 own speech in the convention, he added, was 
 “ much resented by [ Mr. Webster’s] friends.” 
 
 That day, there were two real points at issue ; 
 one, the indorsement of Mr. Webster as the 
 next presidential candidate of the Whig party ; 
 the other, a resolution offered by Dr. Palfrey, 
 and designed to preclude the support of Gen- 
 eral Taylor. The former was carried in a per- 
 functory, half-hearted way; the latter was voted 
 down, though by a narrow majority only. But 
 it was in regard to the latter that Mr. Winthrop 
 exerted himself, and influenced the result. To 
 every one but Mr. Webster, it was apparent 
 that the Webster candidacy was a form only. 
 General Taylor was the coming man; and Mr. 
 Winthrop was now the Whig leader of the fu- 
 ture. Thus the “ depressed” condition of Mr. 
 Sumner’s mind was easily accounted for. Mean- 
 while the Palfrey resolution had outlined the 
 action of the “ Conscience” Whigs in a contin- 
 gency which every day rendered more probable. 
 An immediate split was impending in “ the 
 intelligent, patriotic, [but no longer] united, 
 Whig party.” 
 
 A month afterwards, in the early days of No- 
 vember, 1847, J. Q. Adams, going with his 
 family to Washington, left Quincy for the last 
 time. Four months later he was brought back 
 for burial. It lacked, on the day he left, just 
 
86 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 two weeks of seventy full years since, a boy of 
 ten, he had for the first time gone forth from 
 his native town, then Braintree, embarking in 
 the midst of the Revolutionary trials on the 
 frigate Boston, then lying in the bay, sent to 
 carry his father to France. The intervening 
 period covered the whole national existence, 
 from the war for independence with Great 
 Britain to that for slavery with Mexico. On 
 his part they had been threescore years and ten 
 of almost uninterrupted public life, now ap- 
 proaching an end not less fitting than dramatic. 
 ‘1 dined with them,” wrote the son, ‘* and felt 
 a great deal of the dullness which overspread us 
 all. I do not wonder ; it is difficult to see what 
 six months will bring forth at such an age. It 
 will not do to look forward.” 
 
 After a short contest, Mr. Winthrop was 
 elected speaker of the House, in the Congress 
 that now met; J. Q. Adams, to the great chagrin 
 of his son, voting for him. This Dr. Palfrey 
 found himself unable to do. The latter was 
 accordingly, at the very outset of congressional 
 life, thus put in a most trying position, in which 
 he found support at home from the “ Whig” 
 alone. Into the now wellnigh forgotten con- 
 troversy, which arose out of this speakership 
 election, there is not room here to enter. It was 
 long, bitter, and, in some features —as seen 
 
THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 87 
 
 through the vista of fifty years — amusingly in- 
 structive. The parties to it were very much in 
 earnest and, as a consequence, exceedingly un- 
 just to themselves, as well as to each other. 
 The death of J. Q. Adams suddenly broke in upon 
 it, and, during the painful observances which 
 ensued, the extremely considerate demeanor of 
 Speaker Winthrop to Mrs. Adams and the 
 members of her husband’s family extricated her 
 son, though at the time he failed to realize it, 
 from a position which was fast becoming false. 
 The controversy was obviously degenerating into 
 one of a personal character, — an organized, if 
 not very promising, effort to break down Mr. 
 Winthrop. The “ Whig” also was far from 
 flourishing, and Mr. Adams, with reason, was 
 getting extremely weary of it. So far as editorial 
 work was concerned, it was becoming more and 
 more plain to him that he had no vocation that 
 way. Indeed, how the paper sustained itself at 
 all under his management, it is difficult now to 
 understand. Voicing an unpopular cause, it was 
 without capital, patronage, or enterprise. The 
 consciousness of forever tugging at a dead weight 
 is not inspiriting, and the zeal with which Mr. 
 Adams took hold of his new work in June, 1846, 
 was, in February, 1848, fast degenerating into a 
 sense of hopeless drudgery. He was, however, 
 at least cured of his taste for newspaper writ- 
 
88 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ing. He had of it enjoyed a surfeit. Of Mr. 
 Winthrop, Mr. Adams now in private exclaimed : 
 “ He is wrong, and grievously wrong; and what 
 is worse, he is leading Massachusetts wrong. 
 And now I am in a manner handcuffed in my 
 opposition.” This at the moment he looked 
 upon as one of “the heaviest of [his] trials: ” 
 but, as the weeks went on, he grew to see it in 
 another light ; and when, a few months later, 
 the course of events compelled his complete 
 severance from the paper, he accepted the situ- 
 ation with a sigh of profound relief. The ex- 
 perience was one he never cared to repeat. One 
 of the most thoroughly creditable episodes in 
 Mr. Adams’s life, it carried with it ever after a 
 memory of thankless labor, necessary, but in 
 character most repellent. The seed had to be 
 sown; but the husbandman’s work was hard, 
 the hours long, and his harvest to the last de- 
 gree meagre. 
 
 The National Convention of the Whig party 
 met at Philadelphia on June 7th, and the next 
 day nominated General Taylor as its candidate 
 for the presidency, resolutely and significantly re- 
 fusing to put forth any declaration of principles. 
 A candidate whose political views, if he had any, 
 were quite unknown was the party’s unwritten 
 platform. In the convention, four ballots were 
 had. One hundred and forty votes were necessary 
 
THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 89 
 
 to anomination ; Mr. Clay, beginning with ninety- 
 seven, ended with thirty-two; Mr. Webster had 
 twenty-two votes on the first ballot, and thirteen 
 on the last. So far as the “ Conscience” Whigs 
 of Massachusetts were concerned, the issue was 
 now made up under “ the Palfrey resolve.” A 
 Southern man and an owner of slaves, General 
 Taylor could not have their support. They had 
 so declared in advance; and their two special 
 representatives in the convention, Charles Allen 
 and Henry Wilson, after voting loyally on every 
 ballot for Mr. Webster, formally withdrew when 
 General Taylor was declared the nominee. In 
 doing so Mr. Allen publicly and boldly an- 
 nounced that, in his belief, “the Whig party is 
 here and this day dissolved ;” while Mr. Wilson 
 exclaimed, amid the wild uproar of a tumultuous 
 demonstration: “Sir, I will go home; and, so 
 help me God, I will do all I can to defeat the 
 election of that candidate.”” The more immedi- 
 ate friends of Mr. Webster acquiesced. Like 
 Mr. Webster himself, they did so silently, sul- 
 lenly, slowly ; but, by degrees, they acquiesced. 
 
 Meanwhile on June 3d, when already the re- 
 sult at Philadelphia was anticipated, a consulta- 
 tion had been held at the office of Mr. Adams, 
 in Boston, and the steps preliminary to an or- 
 ganized “bolt” discussed. It followed, close 
 and sharp, on the announcement of the nomina- 
 
90 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 tion of Taylor and Fillmore ; and, in a few days, 
 the call went forth for a convention to be held 
 in August at Buffalo. To this convention Mr. 
 Adams was appointed as one of the delegates 
 from his father’s old congressional district ; 
 and, on August oth, he started on his way 
 thither, going first to New York, where he met 
 Mr. Giddings, and had with him an exchange of 
 views. “He is averse to taking up Mr. Van 
 Buren, and so am I,” he wrote. On the 8th 
 he reached Buffalo, and at once found himself 
 involved in the whirl of the political storm cen- 
 tre. Thirty years later, referring to the Buf- 
 falo Convention of 1848, Mr. Adams recorded 
 his mature conviction of it. ‘* There have,” he 
 said, “ been many such assemblages since, far 
 larger in numbers, and perhaps more skillful in 
 their modes of operation; but for plain, down- 
 right honesty of purpose, to effect high ends 
 without a whisper of bargain and sale, I doubt 
 whether any similar one has been its superior, 
 either before or since.” 
 
 The convention of the Democratic party, 
 which met at Baltimore on the 22d of May, had, 
 after a sharp contest, nominated Lewis Cass, of 
 Michigan, as its candidate; a Northern man 
 with Southern principles, General Cass stood 
 on a distinctly pro-slavery platform. The real 
 question, therefore, which the Buffalo Conven- 
 
THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 91 
 
 tion had to decide was, whether General Taylor 
 or General Cass should be President of the 
 United States for the term then approaching. 
 The “Conscience” Whigs wanted to defeat 
 Taylor; but they did not want to elect Cass. 
 The “ Barnburners,” the bolting New York con- 
 tingent at Buffalo, bitterly resented the treat- 
 ment of their chief, ex-President Van Buren, in 
 the last two Democratic presidential conventions. 
 In that of 1844, he had been defeated through 
 the instrumentality of Cass; and in that just 
 held Cass had received the nomination. No 
 matter who was elected, the “ Barnburners ” 
 were now eager for revenge. In the end they 
 had their way; and they secured it through a 
 very simple pact, or compromise. The “ Barn- 
 burners” said to the ‘ Conscience” Whigs: 
 “Give us the naming of the candidate, and you 
 may frame the platform of principles on which 
 the candidate shall stand.” So far as political 
 tenets were concerned, the opponents of Mr. - 
 Van Buren were thus given absolute carte 
 blanche ; and with this they had to be content. 
 Mr. Adams was made chairman of the conven- 
 tion; and finally, at the very earnest request 
 of the Ohio delegation, among whom his father’s 
 name was a thing to conjure with, he was asso- 
 ciated on the ticket with Mr. Van Buren, as 
 the third party’s candidate for Vice-President. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 THE EBB OF THE TIDE 
 
 Havine completed its labors, the Buffalo Con- 
 vention of 1848 adjourned on August 10th; 
 the presidential election took place on Novem- 
 ber 9th following. While polling close upon 
 300,000 votes in the country at large, the new 
 party failed to carry a single electoral college ; 
 but, none the less, as between the two dominant 
 divisions, it decided which should carry the day. 
 
 So far as Mr. Adams personally was con- 
 cerned, the vote was unmistakably gratifying. 
 To him had been assigned the second place on 
 the ticket, representing the element in the new 
 organization to be drawn from the Whigs; and 
 he had to go before the anti-slavery people of 
 Massachusetts weighted down by the name and 
 the record of Martin Van Buren. Nevertheless, 
 the proportion which the Free-Soil vote bore to 
 the total vote cast in Massachusetts (twenty- 
 eight per cent.) was larger than in any other 
 State, except Vermont (twenty-nine per cent.), 
 and materially exceeded that reached in New 
 York (twenty-six per cent.). In other words, 
 
THE EBB OF THE TIDE 93 
 
 Mr. Adams contributed his full share to the 
 strength of the ticket on which he ran. The 
 lessons of his father, supplemented by his own 
 years of almost daily teaching from the editorial 
 office of the “ Whig,” bore their fruits. Both 
 the old parties were shaken to their centres by 
 the new demonstration. 
 
 Mr. Adams, also, came out of this canvass 
 with a national reputation of his own, which 
 thenceforth he retained and increased. This 
 meant a great deal for him; for probably in 
 the whole experience of the country there has 
 not been another case where a man was so per- 
 sistently estimated at less than his real value 
 because of the eminence of his immediate an- 
 cestors. To a certain extent this was a natural 
 presumption ; but it was intensified in the case 
 of Mr. Adams by peculiarities of manner, and 
 a shyness of temper which caused merely casual 
 observers to mistake an innate indisposition to 
 push himself for lack of capacity. Growing 
 up under the overshadowing fame of John 
 Quincy Adams, it was not until 1848 that he 
 was generally recognized as something more 
 than the bearer of a distinguished cognomen. 
 This, too, was a point on which he was sensitive, 
 —and unduly so. Never claiming anything, or 
 even seeking recognition, because of his father 
 and his grandfather, constant reference to them 
 
94 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 in connection with himself annoyed, and at times 
 irritated him. He could not habituate himself 
 to it, nor learn to take it lightly and as matter 
 of course, — at one time the commonplace utter- 
 ance of some not unkindly man, devoid of good 
 taste, and at another the obvious retort of a 
 coarse and commonplace opponent, quick to 
 avail himself of a telling personal allusion. For 
 all such, it was so very easy to refer to a notice- 
 able family deterioration, —‘“ sharp decline” 
 was the approved form of speech, —and the 
 reference was sure to elicit a sneering laugh, and 
 round of blockhead applause from the benches 
 of the groundlings. Nor was it only the clumsy 
 who had recourse to this unfailing method of 
 bringing down the house. In the course of the 
 campaign of 1848 even Rufus Choate, the kind- 
 est, the most genial and charming of men and 
 acquaintances, both by nature and training 
 courteous and considerate of opponents, — even 
 Rufus Choate, in the Whig state convention, 
 held that year at Worcester, was not above this 
 wretched, worn-out claptrap; and, with rhe- 
 torical pause, referring to J. Q. Adams, then 
 scarcely six months dead, as “the last of the 
 Adamses,” he elicited from his audience a noisy 
 and delighted response. It was a hit, — a very 
 palpable hit; but none the less somewhat un- 
 worthy of Rufus Choate. It was all in the 
 
THE EBB OF THE TIDE 95 
 
 rough give-and-take of the hustings; but there 
 is no doubt it annoyed Mr. Adams more than 
 he cared to admit or, indeed, than it should 
 have done. To have one’s ancestors unceasingly 
 flung in one’s face is unpleasant, and listening 
 to the changes incessantly rung upon them 
 becomes indubitably monotonous. This, how- 
 ever, all through life, was to an unusual degree 
 the fate of Mr. Adams, and never so much so as 
 in the campaign of 1848. None the less the 
 rallying cry of the new party, formulated by 
 Stephen C. Phillips at Buffalo, —‘* Van Buren 
 and Free Soil; Adams and Liberty,’ — echoed 
 all through the North, and through it Mr. 
 Adams’s individual name became known far 
 beyond the limits of Massachusetts. 
 
 In other respects the outcome of that cam- 
 paign was not so gratifying. The fact was, and 
 it could not be sophisticated away, that Martin 
 Van Buren, the political heir of Andrew Jack- 
 son and the “little magician” of New York 
 politics, was a strange candidate for earnest 
 anti-slavery men to select. The association was 
 undeniably incongruous. Of course, Mr. Ad- 
 ams’s own record and utterances in regard to 
 his new political running-mate were industri- 
 ously hunted up, and he was confronted with 
 them. They were, to say the least, the reverse 
 of respectful. Only four years before he had 
 
96 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 in print alluded to Mr. Van Buren as one who, 
 making “a trade of public affairs,” was fixed to 
 nothing “but his own interest;” and whose 
 “ cold and temporizing policy ” at that time was 
 “symptomatic of treachery hereafter.” Refer- 
 ring to such expressions, he now wrote: “* These 
 opinions I then held, but [Mr. Van Buren] has 
 done much to make me change them; and it 
 singularly happens that, in the particular in 
 which I then predicted he would fail, he falsi- 
 fied my anticipation :—he did oppose the an- 
 nexation of Texas. Mr. Van Buren is a mixed 
 character. In early life, right; in middle life, 
 swayed to the wrong by his ambition and his 
 associations, — he seems towards the close of 
 his career to be again falling into the right 
 channel. But, as a candidate, his main defect 
 is thet he wants warmth to give an impulse to 
 his friends.” 
 
 In presenting their case in 1848, the Free- 
 Soil speakers always met the objection of Mr. 
 Van Buren’s candidacy by saying that it was a 
 case of “ principles, not men.” As Von Holst 
 has since pointcd out,! this phrase in connection 
 with a presidential canvass has a somewhat 
 empty sound. If it was meant that the candi- 
 dates of the party stood no chance of an elec- 
 tion, and consequently that the voter, in casting 
 
 1 Vol. iii. p. 398. 
 
THE EBB OF THE TIDE 97 
 
 his ballot for them, merely recorded himself as 
 in favor of a principle, the proposition might be 
 accepted ; though scarcely one calculated to at- 
 tract recruits. On the other hand, when ar- 
 dently supporting principles, it is at least ques- 
 tionable wisdom to choose to office men who, in 
 office, cannot be relied on to make those princi- 
 ples effective. Furthermore, Mr. Adams’s po- 
 sition was now not logical. He had objected to 
 Mr. Webster as the exponent of the anti-slavery 
 sentiment because he was deficient in moral 
 stamina. He had insisted that, if Mr. Webster 
 was elevated into leadership, he would, sooner or 
 later, by leading the movement over to the en- 
 emy, betray it to its destruction. Not grounded 
 in the faith, Daniel Webster was consumed by 
 a craving for the presidential office. This was 
 probably true ; but, in these respects, how was 
 it with Martin Van Buren? Was he, as stud- 
 ied in a record at once long, varied, and sinuous, 
 conspicuous for moral stamina? How had he 
 stood, and what had he said on the great ques- 
 tion at issue? If again elevated to the presi- 
 dential chair, could he be depended upon to 
 carry out the principles enunciated at Buffalo ? 
 In point of fact, it needed but the development 
 of a single year to show the eager and honest 
 participants in the Buffalo convention that the 
 leaders among their New York associates were 
 
98 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 simply playing a game. Headed by Mr. Van 
 Buren’s son, the popular “ Barnburner” idol in 
 the campaign of 1848, they in 1849 marched 
 in a body back into the regular Democratic fold. 
 Their late allies in other States looked on at the 
 spectacle in blank amazement; but the fact 
 could not be gainsaid. It is not easy to see 
 what more, or worse, under similar circum- 
 stances, Mr. Webster could have done. 
 
 In the way those concerned then approached 
 it, the difficulty, however, was insoluble. The 
 nascent party did not feel able to stand alone ; 
 and, that being so, it would have made no dif- 
 ference at the stage of evolution it had then 
 reached, whether it put forward as its exponent 
 Van Buren or Webster, Corwin or M’Lean. As 
 Mr. Adams one day somewhat ruefully wrote, 
 ‘¢ We must do with what we have;” and which- 
 ever of the candidates they might select from 
 the men prominent in either of the old organiza- 
 tions, the Free-Soilers of Buffalo would have 
 been sure to regret not selecting another. In 
 J. Q. Adams the anti-slavery sentiment had a 
 leader, and from him it drew an early inspira- 
 tion. When, in 1845, years and failing strength 
 incapacitated him from service, no successor of 
 national reputation presented himself. Those 
 then foremost on the stage had, so far as the free 
 States were concerned, been educated on national 
 
THE EBB OF THE TIDE . 99 
 
 lines. On the slavery issue they were, one and all, 
 wholly unreliable when subjected to any severe 
 test. They would roll off platitudes by the yard, 
 and accept endless formulas ; but they could not 
 lift themselves to a level with the subject, or 
 be convinced that it was beyond a charlatan 
 treatment. The party of the future, therefore, 
 had to educate its own leaders, — slowly evolve 
 its exponents. Precipitated into existence by 
 the events of 1848, it had no confidence in itself. 
 That must be its excuse; and, as an excuse, it 
 is fairly satisfactory. Nevertheless, for the 
 young party of high standards and noble aspira- 
 tions to select Martin Van Buren as its standard- 
 bearer was absurd; and, thereafter, the genuine 
 earnestness which pervaded the movement alone 
 saved it from collapse under ridicule. Even 
 so, in making its first nomination the Free-Soil 
 party, to use the words of the translator of Von 
 Holst, “ destroyed its own viability.” Had it 
 been thoroughly consistent and true to itself, it 
 would have nominated John P. Hale, Salmon P. 
 Chase, or William H. Seward, treating the can- 
 vass of 1848 as a subordinate and temporary 
 issue, which, so far as any ultimate result was 
 concerned, might safely be left to decide itself. 
 Practically, in the end, it did decide itself. 
 Millard Fillmore became president ; a compro- 
 mise was patched up; the slave-power ruled 
 
100 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 supreme. Meanwhile, in spite of the promi- 
 nence given him during the canvass of 1848, the 
 political leadership in the Massachusetts anti- 
 slavery movement within the lines of the Consti- 
 tution was passing from Mr. Adams. Charles 
 Sumner, on the one hand, and Henry Wilson, 
 on the other, were rapidly coming into greater 
 prominence and more pronounced activity. Sum- 
 ner’s larger and more imposing presence, com- 
 bined with magnetism, eloquence, and zeal, were 
 then gaining for him that personal ascendency 
 which, firmly cemented by the brutal assault of 
 May, 1856, was to continue unbroken to his 
 death. Henry Wilson, on the other hand, fail- 
 ing in business, had now devoted himself to 
 politics as a calling from which incidentally the 
 means of livelihood might be extracted. With 
 untiring activity he was organizing the new 
 party throughout the State; and he was not or- 
 ganizing it with an eye to the political advance- 
 ment of Mr. Adams. He meanwhile was writ- 
 ing in his diary: “I look upon this period as 
 simply an episode to what ought to be the true 
 purpose of my next few years.” 
 
 In this entry he referred to the work before 
 him in connection with the family papers, now 
 his, the John Adams accumulation having now 
 been augmented by the yet larger accumulation 
 of his son. ‘Twenty-two years had then already 
 
THE EBB OF THE TIDE 101 
 
 elapsed since the death of the second president, 
 and his grandson felt no disposition longer to 
 defer a task which, moreover, was one altogether 
 congenial. So already, while the presidential can- 
 vass of 1848 was still in progress, arrangements 
 for the publication of the “ Life and Works 
 of John Adams” had been effected, and a pro- 
 spectus issued. Wholly freed at last from jour- 
 nalistic work, Mr. Adams, now turning from pol- 
 itics, devoted himself wholly to literature and 
 the study of “ stale political excitements.”’ 
 
 The massive ten volume publication of the 
 John Adams papers, begun in 1848, was not 
 completed until 1856; nor was it until 1860 
 that Mr. Adams again exercised an appreciable 
 influence in the direction of public affairs. The 
 intervening years, passed in his library, or at 
 most touching on politics quite remotely and in 
 a way not productive of any considerable result, 
 only here and there offer anything of historical 
 value. Not ina position to be consulted, or to 
 enjoy special means of information, his diary 
 became a mere record of private reflections and 
 local or family incidents. In it, also, the ab- 
 sence of his father makes itself greatly felt, the 
 inspiration of his large activity and _ restless, 
 eager temper being distinctly gone. Though he 
 himself did not know it, the single element of 
 the picturesque and broadening had in Febru- 
 
102 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ary, 1848, been taken out of Mr. Adams’s ex- 
 istence, and he now fell easily and naturally 
 back into the narrow circle of New England 
 life. 
 
 So far, also, as the anti-slavery cause was 
 concerned, therc now followed a succession of 
 dull, dragging years,— years of reaction, dis- 
 couragement, and hope deferred. In national 
 politics, the death of Taylor, at the moment 
 when to anti-slavery men his administration 
 promised results as happy as they were unex- 
 pected, was followed by the accession of Fill- 
 more, the recreancy of Webster, and the pas- 
 sage of the compromise measures of 1850. 
 Then came the canvass of 1852, and the elec- 
 tion of Franklin Pierce; the Free-Soil party of 
 four years before being now reduced to little 
 more than a contemptible political fragment. 
 The Whig organization did not, however, sur- 
 vive its defeat of that year, and perceptibly 
 melted away in the agitation which followed the 
 repeal of the Missouri Compromise. Finally the 
 Republican party emerged from the chaos, and 
 in 1856 almost secured the presidency. Fortu- 
 nately for itself and the country, it failed to 
 elect Fremont; but in 1858 it carried a majority 
 in the House of Representatives, preliminary to 
 its election of Lincoln two years later. Mr. 
 Adams’s time, long deferred, then came. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 
 
 Ty 1858 it was for Mr. Adams either to find his 
 way into active public life, or make up his mind 
 to permanent exclusion from it. Fifty-one years 
 of age, he had been prominent; and he no longer 
 was so. He was in the familiar and dangerous 
 position of a man well known to nourish politi- 
 cal aspirations, who has been much and long 
 discussed in various connections, but who, for 
 one reason or another, has never received prefer- 
 ment. Of such, in the end, people weary. The 
 man everlastingly named, who never “ gets 
 there,’ becomes, so to speak, shopworn, — lack- 
 ing novelty, he is a bit out of fashion; and, 
 moreover, he is in the way of the younger and 
 more energetic aspirants. Already, when his 
 father died in February, 1848, Mr. Adams had 
 been more or less talked of as his congressional 
 successor; but Horace Mann had then been 
 preferred to him. In 1850, the compromise 
 year, Mr. Mann became involved in a bitter 
 controversy with Mr. Webster, growing out of 
 the compromise measures, and Mr. Adams was 
 
104 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 one of the most zealous advocates of his reélec- 
 tion. Two years later, in 1852, Mr. Mann vol- 
 untarily withdrew; but Mr. Adams was then a 
 Free-Soiler, and those were the dark days. He 
 was nominated by his party for the district ; 
 but, on the second trial, — for a majority of all 
 the votes cast for the office was then necessary 
 to a choice at the first or regular election, — his 
 Whig opponent, a highly respectable Boston 
 business gentleman of the Webster following, 
 was chosen over him by a narrow plurality. 
 The Democrats, as ever, were disinclined to Mr. 
 Adams. The old Jackson antipathy would not 
 away, and the instinctive Irish dislike to the 
 essentially Anglo-Saxon made itself felt. In 
 1854 the Whig and Free-Soil parties both dis- 
 appeared in Massachusetts under the native 
 American, or ‘¢ Know-Nothing ” cataclysm, and 
 Mr. Adams found himself a leader absolutely 
 without a following. In the Norfolk district, 
 William S. Damrell, a man whose name had 
 never been heard of in politics before, of whom 
 the dictionary of Congress says that, “ by trade 
 a printer, [he] never had the privilege of even 
 a common-school education,’ was evolved as a 
 candidate from the sessions of a secret order, 
 and elected by a majority larger than any by 
 which the district had ever honored either of his 
 two immediate, and better remembered, prede- 
 
THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 105 
 
 cessors, Horace Mann and John Quincy Adams. 
 Though incapacitated by paralysis from any 
 active performance of his duties, Mr. Damrell 
 served through a second term ; but as that drew 
 to its close in 1858, the Know-Nothing deluge 
 had in great degree subsided, having in Massa- 
 chusetts brought to the political surface abso- 
 lutely nothing but driftwood and scum. A way 
 was at last thus opened for Mr. Adams. But 
 in the district the native American element was 
 still strong, and almost as set in its hostility to 
 Mr. Adams as were the Irish ; so his nomination 
 was effected not without trouble. Indeed, he 
 owed it largely to the unseen, personal inter- 
 vention of Mr. Sumner, and to the generous 
 withdrawal in his favor of George R. Russell, 
 the natural candidate of those of Whig antece- 
 dents, in that district a large element. When, 
 however, the day of the convention came, Mr. 
 Adams was nominated on the first ballot by a 
 decisive preponderance ; and, in common with 
 the rest of the Republican ticket, he was re- 
 turned at the November election by a clear 
 majority of nearly 1200 over two opposing can- 
 didates. He was thus at last fairly launched 
 into national public life. 
 
 The Thirty-sixth Congress, the only one 
 in which Mr. Adams ever sat, assembled on 
 
 Monday, December 5, 1859. The Republican 
 
106 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 party at that time was at a great disadvantage 
 socially in Washington. It had no foothold in 
 the executive departments, and few officers of 
 the army and navy were in sympathy with it. 
 The ordinary run of office-holders regarded it with 
 traditional aversion, and an apprehension ever 
 increasing. ‘The whole social atmosphere of the 
 capital was in fact surcharged with pro-slavery 
 sentiment. Among the prominent Republicans 
 in Congress, Governor Seward almost alone 
 dwelt in a house of his own, or made any 
 pretense of hospitality. Mr. Sumner lived in a 
 bachelor apartment of modest proportions and 
 severe simplicity, taking his dinner at a restau- 
 rant, when not the guest of some member of the 
 diplomatic corps. Mostof the Republican mem- 
 bers of Congress lived at the wretched hotels, 
 or still less inviting boarding-houses, then char- 
 acteristic of Washington; and they and their 
 wives, when the latter were there, haunted cor- 
 ridors and public parlors. Sensible of the ob- 
 ligation which in this respect was upon him, 
 Mr. Adams had engaged a large house, as houses 
 in Washington then went, and prepared to 
 make of it a Republican social centre, so far as 
 such a centre was possible under existing con- 
 ditions. 
 
 The session of 1859-60, as usual with sessions 
 next preceding a national election, was almost 
 
THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 107 
 
 wholly given up to president-making. The 
 Buchanan administration was already moribund. 
 All the high hopes and sanguine expectations 
 with which that “ old public functionary,” as he 
 described himself, had entered upon his high office 
 had, one by one, been disappointed, and utter 
 failure now stared him in the face; though, in 
 that respect, no imaginings could for him have 
 equaled the realities which the immediate future 
 had in store. The Democratic party was rent 
 in twain over the slavery issue; while, for Mr. 
 Douglas, his great panacea of popular sover- 
 eignty had proved in the result a veritable boom- 
 erang. In spite of his victory over Abraham 
 Lincoln in the election which followed the mem- 
 orable Illinois senatorial debate of 1858, Stephen 
 A. Douglas was now hardly less out of favor 
 with the Southern leaders than were the more 
 moderate Republicans. None the less, he was 
 still the favorite presidential possibility of the 
 Democracy of the North ; while the South looked 
 about anxiously, but in vain, for somebody on 
 whom they could unite as “ available,” in oppo- 
 sition to him. Every possible combination was 
 considered. On the Republican side, John C. 
 Fremont had long dropped out of considera- 
 tion. It was instinctively recognized, and tacitly 
 conceded, that he did not possess the stamina 
 required ; and men already began to feel a degree 
 
108 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 of mortification and a certain sense of shame- 
 facedness as they called to mind the way in 
 which they had been stampeded into his nom- 
 ination four years before. The recollection was 
 the reverse of inspiring. Had Governor Seward 
 then been nominated in Fremont’s place, — as 
 he always after felt he should have been, — his 
 position as the recognized leader of the Repub- 
 lican party would have been thereby established, 
 and a renomination in 1860 would have followed 
 as a matter of course. As it was, he had since, 
 by force of ability and incisive utterance, risen to 
 be the most prominent member of the party in 
 Congress and before the country; but in the 
 former he did not attain the position which 
 Henry Clay had held so long among the Whigs. 
 He lacked certain of the personal elements essen- 
 tial to American political leadership. Still, so 
 far as the impending nomination was concerned, 
 he was distinctly in the lead, with Salmon P. 
 Chase as a not very formidable second. Abra- 
 ham Lincoln was as yet hardly considered seri- 
 ously. The Whigs were a mere rump; the 
 Know-Nothing party had disappeared. 
 
 The House of Representatives of the Thirty- 
 sixth Congress was a wholly impotent body, in 
 that it was hopelessly divided. Of its 237 mem- 
 bers, 109 were classed as Republicans, 88 as 
 Administration Democrats, 18 as Free State 
 
THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 109 
 
 Democrats, and 27 as “ Native Americans,” all 
 but four of the last named being from former 
 Whig districts of the South. A contest, and a 
 long and bitter contest, over the choice of a 
 speaker was inevitable from the outset; and 
 the situation, mixed and bad at best, was fur- 
 ther complicated by the extreme agitation into 
 which the whole South had been thrown by the 
 John Brown raid at Harper’s Ferry in the 
 previous October. Never had a Congress assem- 
 bled containing so many elements of such dan- 
 gerous discord. As subsequent events showed, 
 it was rather an unmanageable mob insensibly 
 premonitory of conflict, than a parliamentary 
 body. Above all, the arrogance and anger 
 of the Southern contingent scarcely brooking 
 constraint, the manners of the plantation over- 
 seer were constantly in evidence, as also an 
 eagerness for the fray. Among the more pro- 
 minent members on the Republican side were 
 Thaddeus Stevens, of Pennsylvania, who, having 
 already served two terms in the House between 
 1848 and 1853, now again returned to it to re- 
 main in continuous service until his death in 
 1868; John Sherman, of Ohio, then commen- 
 cing his third term, and shortly to be transferred 
 to the Senate ; Roscoe Conkling, of New York, 
 aman of only thirty and just entering on his 
 brilliant congressional career; the three fa- 
 
110 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 mous brothers Washburn, Israel, from Maine, 
 Elihu B., from Illinois, and Cadwallader C., 
 from Wisconsin; and to these might be added 
 Owen Lovejoy, a brother of the “ martyr of Al- 
 ton,”’ Galusha A. Grow, of Illinois, and Lot M. 
 Morrill, of Vermont. Besides L. Q. C. Lamar, 
 of Alabama, Roger A. Pryor, of Virginia, and 
 Laurence M. Keitt, of South Carolina, infamous 
 as the coadjutor of Brooks, the list of those 
 serving on the other side of that House bristles 
 with names of men who subsequently died in 
 the Confederate service. Vallandigham, of Ohio, 
 afterwards notorious as a ‘‘ copperhead,” was also 
 a member. 
 
 The contest over the speakership began on 
 December 5th, the opening day of the session, 
 and came to a close on February 1st; when, on 
 the forty-fourth ballot, William Pennington of 
 New Jersey, then serving his first and only 
 term in Congress, was chosen. John Sherman 
 was the candidate of the Republicans from the 
 second ballot to the thirty-ninth, when he with- 
 drew his name to save his party from clearly 
 impending defeat. The contest was within 
 three days as long as the similar struggle of 
 four years previous, which had resulted in the 
 election of Banks; but here the resemblance 
 stopped. There was in it, as compared with 
 the other, a significant increase of bitterness ; 
 
THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 111 
 
 on both sides an exasperation as of men who 
 could with difficulty be restrained from laying 
 violent hands on each other. Thus, while good- 
 humor and courtesy had marked the contest of 
 1856, that of 1860 was noticeable for its acri- 
 mony and spirit of fierce defiance. 
 
 The House was thus organized. When, how- 
 ever, it came to the assignment of committee 
 positions, Mr. Adams, so far as influence in the 
 House was concerned, was, as he at the time 
 well understood and, later on, more and more 
 appreciated, courteously, and in a dignified, 
 considerate sort of way, shelved. Failing to 
 bear in mind an injunction earnestly imposed 
 upon him by Mr. Giddings at a meeting in Bos- 
 ton in December, 1858, “not to permit any 
 delicacy or scruples to stand in the way,” it 
 never occurred to Mr. Adams to bring to bear 
 on the new and inexperienced occupant of the 
 speaker’s chair any pressure to secure recogni- 
 tion for himself. Indeed, he would not have 
 known how to set about such a business. Ac- 
 cordingly, acting under almost unendurable 
 pressure from every other quarter, Mr. Penning- 
 ton lent a ready ear to the ingenious suggestion 
 conveyed to him by a not disinterested Massa- 
 chusetts colleague, that Mr. Adams should be 
 appointed to the same committee positions which 
 had been assigned to his father when, nearly 
 
112 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 thirty years before, the latter first entered the 
 House of Representatives as an ex-President. 
 The scheme was effective, and Mr. Adams was 
 thus promoted out of his colleague’s way. ‘The 
 committee on manufactures, of which his name 
 appeared as chairman was, under the rules for 
 the disposition of business then and since in 
 vogue, a mere name. It had not even a room 
 assigned to it; nor had it been called together 
 within the memory of any member of that Con- 
 gress. To be announced as its head was equiy- 
 alent to what is commonly known as “ honora- 
 ble mention.”” Nevertheless, for a new member 
 of Mr. Adams’s peculiar temperament and very 
 retiring disposition, this practical shelving had 
 its advantages in affording him time in which 
 to become familiar with his new surroundings. 
 His subsequent prominence came naturally and 
 in due order of events, and under a positive 
 call; he was not prematurely thrust into notice. 
 
 In this, his maiden session, except in answer 
 to the call of the clerk, Mr. Adams’s voice was 
 heard but once in the House. He would much 
 have preferred to maintain an unbroken silence ; 
 but a presidential election was impending, and 
 set speeches were in order. These speeches, of 
 the abstract, educational kind, while addressed 
 to the House, were meant for the constituencies. 
 Some of Mr. Adams’s friends at home insisted 
 
THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 113 
 
 that he must make himself heard; and, in re- 
 sponse to their urgency, he spoke. His speech 
 was thoroughly characteristic. In no way sen- 
 sational or vituperative,— its calm, firm tone, 
 excellent temper, and well-ordered reasoning 
 naturally commended it to an audience satiated 
 by months of turgid rhetoric and personal abuse. 
 This his Southern colleagues appreciated ; for, 
 conscious what sinners they were in those re- 
 spects, they the more keenly felt in others mod- 
 eration of language and restraint in bearing. 
 A few days later one of the most extreme among 
 them, Mr. Cobb, of Alabama, went out of his 
 way to refer to Mr. Adams as “ the only mem- 
 ber never out of order ;” and the person thus 
 curiously singled out noted, “ there is something 
 singular in the civility formally paid me on the 
 other side of the house. I have never courted 
 one of them; but I have insulted no one.” It 
 was to these men—the members from the 
 South, and more especially to those from Vir- 
 ginia —that Mr. Adams now addressed himself, 
 setting forth the cause of being — the raison 
 d'etre —of the Republican party in a natural 
 resistance to the requirements and claims of a 
 property interest, which, alone of all interests, 
 was directly represented on the floor of the 
 House by a solid phalanx of its members. Then 
 passing on to an appeal from the modern inter- 
 
114 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 pretation of the Declaration and Constitution to 
 the understanding of the framers, he closed with 
 a distinct statement of the constitutional limita- 
 tions as respects slavery recognized and accepted 
 by the Republican party, and his own belief in 
 the utter futility and foreordained failure of 
 any attempt on the Union. 
 
 The Republican National Convention met at 
 Chicago, on May 16th. Mr. Adams was an 
 earnest, though quiet, advocate of the nomina- 
 tion of Governor Seward. Seward was the 
 leader of the Republican party ; more, far more, 
 than any other one man, he had formulated its 
 principles and voiced its feelings. He was en- 
 titled now to be its standard-bearer. Suddenly, 
 at the moment when that result of the conven- 
 tion’s action was most confidently anticipated, a 
 rumor spread through the House of Represen- 
 tatives, then engaged on a contested election 
 case, that the prize had fallen to Mr. Lincoln. 
 Mr. Adams the next morning thus commented 
 on this momentous selection : “ [The report ] was 
 received with general incredulity, until by re- 
 peated announcements from different quarters 
 it appeared that he had carried the day by a 
 union of all the anti-Seward elements. The 
 effect upon me was to depress; for, though no 
 partisan of Governor Seward, I did feel as if he 
 was the man to whom the party owed the nomi- 
 
THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 115 
 
 nation. But I could not fail to perceive in the 
 faces of many of our friends the signs of a very 
 opposite conviction. In truth, the western -sec- 
 tion and the middle States are exceedingly 
 timid, and desire as far as possible to escape so 
 direct an issue on the slave question as the nom- 
 ination of Mr. Seward would have made. Mr. 
 Lincoln is by no means of so decided a type; 
 and yet he is in many respects a fair representa- 
 tive. I believe him honest and tolerably capa- 
 ble ; but he has no experience and no business 
 habits.” | 
 
 Mr. Adams was no stump speaker or cam- 
 paign orator. It was not in him to “ move the 
 masses ;”’ but, in the long and exciting can- 
 vass which now ensued, he took a somewhat 
 active part, accompanying Governor Seward in 
 his memorable electioneering journey through 
 the States of the Northwest, going as far as 
 St. Paul. Renominated to Congress without 
 opposition, he was elected by a majority of 
 some 8000 votes. This was on November 6th; 
 upon which day ended the canvass most preg- 
 nant of consequences of all the country has ever 
 witnessed, before or since. On November 10th 
 Mr. Adams closed the old mansion at Quincy, 
 and moved with his family to his house in Bos- 
 ton, there to remain for the few weeks yet to 
 intervene before his departure for Washington. 
 
116 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 The effort of fourteen years had been crowned 
 with success. The anti-slavery movement, at last 
 proving irresistible, was about to take possession 
 of the government. The final evening he was 
 destined to pass in Quincy for more than seven 
 years was marked by a celebration of the great 
 political victory just won, and was marred by 
 no premonition of the trials to come. The cur- 
 tain fell amid rejoicings, illuminations, the blaz- 
 ing of rockets and the shoutings of victory ; 
 shortly it was to rise again to the sound of 
 alarm-bells struck in the night. For the mo- 
 ment, however, satisfaction over the past was 
 as unalloyed as the anticipation of the future 
 was confident. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 THE AWAKENING 
 
 RETROSPECT is the one infallible test of po- 
 litical, as of private conduct, in times of emer- 
 gency. To its cold and altogether unsympa- 
 thetic scrutiny, the statesman’s policy and the 
 methods of the tradesman are in the close 
 equally subjected. Having, too, the last word, 
 from its verdict there is no escape. Accord- 
 ingly, it is apt to go hard before posterity with 
 a public character when his biographer feels 
 himself under the necessity of defense or ex- 
 planation. Fortunately nothing of the sort is 
 necessary for Mr. Adams in connection with the 
 course of events subsequent to the election of 
 1860, and leading up to the catastrophe of 
 April 13, 1861. 
 
 Not that Mr. Adams ever subsequently per- 
 suaded himself, as did so many others, both in 
 and out of public life, that, during the winter 
 which preceded the outbreak of the civil war, 
 he had foreseen the whole terrible outcome, an- 
 ticipating just what occurred. On the contrary, 
 
 /claiming no prescience in that regard, when 
 
118 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 the struggle came he frankly confessed himself 
 astonished and horrified. His forecast had for 
 years been all wrong. He had assured the 
 country that the South was not in earnest, that 
 its threats were mere braggadocio, that its in- 
 terests and its safety combined to keep it in the 
 Union. Now he had slowly to wake up to his 
 error, and address himself to a new and unan- 
 ticipated situation. He did so, step by step 
 feeling his way; but, afterwards, had his fore- 
 sight during the winter of 1860-61 been as per- 
 fect as his retrospect became, he would in no 
 essential respect have done otherwise than he 
 did. 
 
 So far as the loyal people of the United 
 States were concerned, the course of political 
 events from the election of Lincoln to the bom- 
 bardment of Fort Sumter — from November 6, 
 1860, to April 18, 1861 — afforded a curious 
 exemplification of what can only be described 
 as national good luck; for, absolutely without 
 intelligent human guidance, those events de- 
 veloped themselves in a way which, under the 
 peculiar conditions then existing, hardly ad- 
 mitted of improvement. This, of course, was 
 not apparent at the time. On the contrary, as 
 the ship of state slowly and irresistibly drifted 
 into the breakers, the ery for guidance —for a 
 hand at the helm — was only less loud than the 
 
THE AWAKENING 119 
 
 wail of despair over its manifest absence ; this, 
 however, did not alter the fact that, the catas- 
 trophe being inevitable, it came about, though 
 in a way purely fortuitous, at the right time, in 
 the best place that could have been selected, 
 and, so far as the elements of the country loyal 
 to nationality were concerned, in the most de- 
 sirable form. 
 
 The facts, not open to dispute, need to be 
 briefly recalled. “On November 6, 1860, when 
 a large plurality of those voting chose Lin- 
 coln as President, they, like Mr. Adams, never 
 believed that secession would ensue. When 
 they were speedily undeceived on this head, the 
 situation in which the country found itself could 
 hardly have been worse. Four months were to 
 elapse before the change of administration was 
 to take place. The interim was full of danger. 
 It was a veritable interregnum, during which 
 the government might well be wrecked. The 
 administration was indeed in the hands of the 
 wreckers; while the President, wholly out of 
 sympathy with the man chosen to be his suc- 
 cessor, and in no way in communication with 
 him, was almost, if not altogether, pitiable in 
 his timorous vacillation. A better opportunity 
 to complete their work, conspirators could not 
 have desired. It so chanced, however, that, 
 South as well as North, public sentiment was 
 
120 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 divided. The cotton States, so-called, — South 
 Carolina and those contiguous to the Gulf of 
 Mexico, — unanimous within themselves, were 
 for all practical purposes also united in a com- 
 mon line of action; but in all the more North- 
 ern, or, as they were now called, border slave 
 States, there was a strong Union sentiment — a 
 reluctance to being swept headlong into the 
 uncertainties which secession would unquestion- 
 ably entail. Virginia and Maryland, during 
 the interregnum, held the key of the situation. 
 This fact is fundamental to any correct un- 
 derstanding of the situation. Had those two 
 border slave States then promptly followed 
 the lead given by the cotton States, their ac- 
 tion would unquestionably, with Buchanan at 
 the head of the national government, have been 
 decisive of the result. The conspirators, seizing 
 the national capital before the change of admin- 
 istration was effected, would have overturned 
 the government. Fortunately, the traditions of 
 Virginia and the material interests of Maryland 
 were not readily overcome; and, actuated by 
 the spirit of conservatism, a strong party in 
 favor of delay at least, if not of the Union, de- 
 veloped itself in each of those pivotal States. It 
 was manifestly of vital importance to the loyal 
 North to keep alive and encourage this visibly 
 languishing Union sentiment, if only as an ob- 
 
THE AWAKENING 121 
 
 stacle which the Southern extremists would have 
 to overcome, thus making of it a factor of de- 
 lay, consuming an interval of time fraught with 
 danger. Not until March 4th would the ma- 
 chinery of state —the War Department and the 
 Navy Department — be transferred ; and, for the 
 North, it was a matter, as is now apparent, of 
 simply vital importance that the catastrophe — 
 if a catastrophe was inevitable— should be de- 
 ferred until after that date. Throughout that 
 trying winter, therefore, the eyes of all think- 
 ing, cool and clear-headed men were steadily 
 fixed upon the ides of March. 
 
 On the other hand, it was plainly the interest 
 of the conspirators to precipitate a conflict. By 
 so doing they might not impossibly secure the 
 national capital, thus becoming, when the change 
 of administration necessarily took place, the 
 de facto government. So far as foreign nations 
 were concerned, this would have been con- 
 clusive. The hesitating attitude of the border 
 slave States, especially of Virginia, was the ob- 
 stacle in the way. Those States were, however, 
 in that unstable psychological condition which 
 made it very necessary to deal carefully with 
 them. To bring on a conflict was easy; but by 
 unduly precipitating such a conflict, the border 
 States might not impossibly be shocked and re- 
 pelled rather than attracted. The Southern 
 
122 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 extremists, therefore, instinctively recognized 
 the fact that it would not be safe yet to put 
 themselves manifestly in the wrong through any 
 act of aggression, at once overt and wanton. 
 For that, conditions were not ripe. Premature 
 action on their part, while consolidating the 
 North, might divide the South. Accordingly, 
 unless the entire Southern heart should by good 
 luck be fired by some premature attempt of 
 the national government at the “coercion of a 
 State,” the conspirators had perforce to wait. 
 
 Meanwhile, the free States were in a condi- 
 tion of moral chaos. The old union-saving, 
 compromising sentiment was there both strong 
 and outspoken. It had to be cautiously dealt 
 with. The Republican party was thus under 
 heavy bonds to keep in the right. It must 
 show itself reasonable, conciliatory, and law- 
 abiding ; it must hold out the olive-branch con- 
 spicuously ; avoiding anything like provocation, 
 it must await attack. Only by so doing could 
 it, when the moment came, rally public senti- 
 ment to its support. So far as the North was 
 concerned, the day for diatribes and denuncia- 
 tion, for philippics and incrimination, was, 
 therefore, over. Though there were those, and 
 not a few, who seemed unable to realize this fact 
 then, it is obvious now. 
 
 Under these difficult conditions, the loyal ele- 
 
THE AWAKENING 123 
 
 ment labored under great disadvantage in the 
 important matter of leadership. The Southern 
 conspirators, knowing exactly what they were 
 driving at, had, immediately after the election, 
 gone effectively to work to secure it. They en- 
 joyed perfect means of information; for they 
 were actually represented in Congress, as well as 
 in the executive departments. ‘They were united 
 as one man. Every point in the game was thus 
 in their favor; they apparently stood to win. 
 Not so the incoming party of loyalty and free- 
 dom. Divided by jealousies, distracted in coun- 
 cil, those of the North knew absolutely nothing 
 of that man whom the voice of a political con- 
 vention, little above a mob, had selected to be 
 their leader; and he, an untried executive, far 
 away from the centre of action in “ his secluded 
 abode in the heart of Lllinois,” made no sign. 
 All eyes were turned thither, all ears were in- 
 tent ; but during all the fateful days from early 
 November to late February, nothing was there 
 seen and little thence heard. Yet, as in the 
 end it turned out, even this absence of lead in 
 the time of crisis —so deplored at the time, 
 and which on any received doctrine of chances 
 should have been fatal— proved opportune. 
 The country drifted more fortunately for itself 
 than it would probably have been directed even 
 by the most sagacious of politicians. For the 
 
124 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 moral conditions time in which to mature was 
 absolutely essential. A community fairly agon- 
 ized with fear was being slowly educated to the 
 fighting pitch. The process was one, not of 
 days, nor yet of weeks, but of months. 
 
 A succession of events then occurred, — all 
 fortuitous, and yet all as they should have been. 
 On December 26th, acting within his orders but 
 on his own responsibility, Major Robert Ander- 
 son, in command of the United States forces in 
 Charleston harbor, transferred his skeleton gar- 
 rison from Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter. A 
 catastrophe, then imminent, but for the North 
 altogether premature, was thus deferred; and 
 the eyes of the whole country were thereafter 
 fixed, and its thoughts concentrated, on a single 
 point of danger. An attack on the flag flying 
 on an island in Charleston harbor became from 
 that moment an assault on the Union. Chance 
 thus selected the point of collision, and selected 
 it most advantageously for the North ; for while 
 South Carolina, laboring under a record of nearly 
 forty years, was in the South looked upon with 
 apprehension, in the North, deemed a firebrand, 
 ‘she had no friend. Memories of nullification, 
 of assaults in the senate chamber and of coun- 
 sels always extreme, there arose uncalled at the 
 mere mention of her name. Human foresight 
 thus could not have better designated the point 
 of danger. 
 
THE AWAKENING 125 
 
 A few days later, on January 9th, the attempt 
 to reinforce Anderson with men and supplies by 
 the steamer Star of the West failed, the re- 
 lieving steamer being fired into and driven back 
 to New York by the guns of South Carolina; 
 while, most fortunately, and almost as matter of 
 chance, those of Sumter did not reply. The act 
 of aggression was thus on the part of the con- 
 spirators ; and yet no catastrophe was precipi- 
 tated. It would then have been premature — 
 to the Union probably fatal; for March 4th 
 was still nearly two months in the future. 
 
 Again, in the early days of February, when 
 the tension was fast becoming too severe to last, 
 Virginia held an election for delegates to a con- 
 vention to decide on the course to be pursued ; 
 and a decisive majority of those chosen were 
 found to be opposed to immediate secession. 
 Most fortunately Henry A. Wise was no longer 
 governor of that State. Had his tenure of the 
 office continued, it is impossible to say what 
 might or might not have been attempted. John 
 Letcher, a Virginian of the states-rights school 
 but not a secessionist, had succeeded Wise in 
 1859, and, though a few months later on he acted 
 with decision in favor of the Confederacy when 
 the Virginia convention at last passed its ordi- 
 nance of secession, he now for the time being 
 maintained a conservative attitude. The Vir- 
 
126 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ginia election, resulting as it did at just this june- 
 ture, was, therefore, a piece of supreme good 
 fortune. It checked the rapid course of events. 
 As Mr. Seward, with a deep sigh of relief, wrote 
 on hearing of it: “ The danger of conflict before 
 March 4th has been averted. Time has been 
 gained.” Time at that juncture was precious. 
 
 Then came the futile Washington Peace Con- 
 ference, called at the request of Virginia. More 
 discussion and new suggestions of accommoda- 
 tion followed; and, though nothing came of 
 them in the end, they were most useful, for they 
 consumed the few days still remaining before 
 the fateful ides. And all this time the ship of 
 state, under influences quite irresistible, steadily 
 drifted on a rocky lee shore. There was no 
 hand at the helm; but nothing untoward oc- 
 curred, no reef was struck. 
 
 On March 4th, the transfer of the govern- 
 ment was effected quietly and safely. A hand 
 was now at the helm, and something positive in 
 the way of direction was looked for. Luckily 
 for the country, Mr. Lincoln’s lack of famil- 
 larity with the situation, the very habit of his 
 mind and the fact that he was more intent on 
 the distribution of offices than on the gravity of 
 the crisis, then also stood the country in good 
 stead. The immediate question related to the 
 course to be pursued in respect to Fort Sumter. 
 
THE AWAKENING 127 
 Something had to be decided. Should the gar- 
 
 rison be withdrawn ?—or should the govern- 
 ment, in the attempt to relieve it, provoke a 
 collision? And here, whichever course was de- 
 cided on, serious doubts suggested themselves, 
 grave danger was incurred. If the garrison 
 had been, as Secretary Seward then advocated, 
 quietly withdrawn, the country would have been 
 humiliated and a great opportunity lost. Its 
 self-respect gone, it would have sacrificed its 
 prestige in the eyes of foreign powers. The 
 result might well have proved disastrous; for, 
 itself practically recognizing the Confederacy, it 
 would have invited its recognition by others. 
 On the other hand, if South Carolina were at- 
 tacked, and the garrison at Sumter relieved by 
 a successful naval operation, it would have been 
 an overt act of aggression precipitating the 
 South into a war of defense. Upon that issue 
 the slave States would have been a unit, while 
 the free States might have been divided. Had 
 the Confederate leaders been wise and far-see- 
 ing, they would in this way have provoked the 
 now inevitable conflict, compelling the national 
 government either to humiliate itself or to strike 
 the first blow, they then replying strictly in self- 
 defense. Again luck, for it was nothing else, 
 served the United States better than the counsels 
 of its statesmen. Taking the bit in their teeth, 
 
128 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 the hot-heads of South Carolina precipitated the 
 issue. Blunderers—aggressors in civil strife, 
 the disciples of Calhoun caused the Confederate 
 batteries to open fire on the flag of the Union. 
 The rest followed. From that moment the loyal 
 North was a unit. All the conditions were ripe, 
 the educational process was complete, and the 
 psychological crisis followed. 
 
 Such was the course of events. That Mr. 
 Adams did not at the time fully appreciate the 
 gravity of the situation, or the irresistible force 
 of the influences at work, or the earnestness and 
 strength of his opponents, has already been said. 
 He never did appreciate them. Referring to the 
 secession movement of 1861, he twelve years 
 later expressed the astonishing belief that “ one 
 single hour of the will displayed by General 
 Jackson ”’ in 1833 “‘ would have stifled the fire 
 in its cradle.” A similar opinion was expressed 
 by Charles Sumner in 18638,! and by the bio- 
 graphers of Lincoln seventeen years later. That 
 a decided lead and vigorous action on the part 
 of the federal executive would, in December, 
 1860, or January, 1861, have united the North 
 earlier, and have in this way greatly influenced 
 subsequent results, is hardly questionable; but, 
 in view of the temper and self-confidence then 
 there prevailing, that the attempt to “coerce a 
 
 1 Works, vii. 518. 2 Nicolay and Hay, iii. 123. 
 
THE AWAKENING 129 
 
 State ” in January, 1861, would have cowed the 
 South into submission, and so prevented the four 
 years of desperate conflict which ensued, is al- 
 together improbable; nor would it have been 
 desirable. The thing had been brooding too 
 long and gone too far to escape a copious blood- 
 letting. At some time, a little sooner or later, 
 nationality had once for all to be established. 
 Nevertheless, mistaken as he was as to the con- 
 ditions under which he was called upon to act, 
 and their inevitable outcome, — still holding the 
 irremediable to be not beyond remedy, — Mr. 
 Adams, in December, 1860, considered care- 
 fully his course. Though dictated by instincts 
 of high statesmanship, that course was at the 
 time distinctly opportunist, — a course in which, 
 amid changing circumstances, but always in 
 presence of a great danger, he felt his way from 
 day to day. None the less, whether viewed from 
 the standpoint of the moralist and Christian, or 
 that of the statesman, or that of the astute 
 player in the game of politics, the line of action 
 Mr. Adams then followed was completely justi- 
 fied by results. 
 
 In the first place, he recognized the fact that 
 in their hour of victory a change of tone and 
 bearing on the part of the victors was wise as 
 well as becoming. Invective and threat were 
 now to be replaced by firmness, moderation, 
 
130 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 conciliation ; fears were to be allayed; confi- 
 dence established. Assurance was to be given 
 that the ascendency gained would not be abused. 
 This was something which a large portion of 
 those associated with him, of whom Mr. Sum- 
 ner was a type, could not understand. That 
 a man should in the hour of triumph demean 
 himself towards his opponents otherwise than 
 as he had demeaned himself in the heat of con- 
 flict seemed to pass their comprehension. To 
 their eyes moderation always savored of weak- 
 ness. In the next place, whichever way he 
 looked at the actual situation, the course to be 
 pursued seemed to Mr. Adams plain. If he 
 looked at it from the standpoint of high moral 
 responsibility, — as a Christian, —it was incum- 
 bent on him to do all in his power to do, short 
 of the concession of some vital point at issue, to 
 avert civil strife. He would yield nothing really 
 essential; but so far as non-essentials and points 
 of pride were concerned, he would make smooth 
 the way. The soundness of this view cannot 
 well be controverted. Taking next the lower 
 plane of the statesman, his eye was riveted on 
 the transfer of the government from the hands 
 of those who then held it to its friends; as he 
 twelve years later said, it was manifest that 
 something had to be done “to keep control of 
 the capital, and bridge over the interval before 
 
THE AWAKENING 131 
 
 the 4th of March in peace and quiet.” To this 
 end it was not sufficient to guard carefully 
 against any premature catastrophe, the result of 
 some governmental action, not the less ill ad- 
 vised because well meant; but such a catastro- 
 phe, if cunningly contrived by the enemies of the 
 governinent, must, if possible, be averted. Mr. 
 Adams, therefore, advocated the appointment of 
 committees and the summoning of conferences, 
 —the presentation and discussion of schemes, — 
 anything, in fact, which would consume time and 
 preserve the peace, until the interregnum should 
 end. Finally, as an astute politician, he labored 
 to divide his enemies and concentrate the friends 
 of the government by the plausibility and fair- 
 ness of his proposals. He hoped to the last to 
 hold the border States, fully believing that, if 
 an armed conflict could by judicious caution be 
 averted, the Gulf States would, when the time 
 for sober second thought came, find their posi- 
 tion untenable, and so be forced ignominiously 
 back into the Union. In this belief he was over 
 sanguine, failing to recognize the deadly inten- 
 sity of the situation. Nevertheless, in the stage 
 of that tremendous game then developing, it was 
 a point worth playing for. Its loss would not 
 jeopardize the stakes. 
 
 This, however, was remote. The 4th of March, 
 -—the possession of the seat of government when 
 
132 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 the change of administration should take place, 
 —this was the first point in the game, the se- 
 curing which was essential to the result. All 
 through that long, anxious winter, it was never 
 absent from the mind of Mr. Adams. He now 
 also rose, at once and as if by common consent, 
 into great congressional prominence. Almost 
 the first legislative act of the session was to pro- 
 vide for a large Special Committee of Thirty- 
 three, one from each State in the Union, to 
 frame, if anyhow possible so to do, some mea- 
 sure, or measures, to extricate the country from 
 the danger into which it was manifestly drift- 
 ing. Mr. Corwin, of Ohio, was chairman of this 
 committee, and upon it Mr. Adams represented 
 Massachusetts. The fate of the measures of 
 conciliation and adjustment, which Mr. Adams 
 drew up and submitted in this committee, subse- 
 quently constituting the basis of its report, well 
 illustrated how, to the very last moment, he was 
 intent on the change to be effected on Inaugu- 
 ration Day. These measures were before the 
 House of Representatives, causing discussion 
 and consuming time to the close of the session ; 
 they were then at last disposed of in some par- 
 liamentary way which made them no longer 
 effective. Walking home that day from the 
 Capitol with a member of his family after the 
 adjournment of the House, his companion ex- 
 
THE AWAKENING 133 
 
 pressed to Mr. Adams regret at the disposition 
 thus made of his measures. The reply, con- 
 veyed with unmistakable cheerfulness of tone, 
 was, on the contrary, expressive of profound 
 satisfaction that they were thus well out of the 
 way, having done the work for which they were 
 designed. Matters for discussion, they had ocecu- 
 pied time which might otherwise have been dan- 
 gerously employed. But the expediency of using 
 every device to bridge over the interregnum did 
 not admit of public expression, and in the North 
 the purpose of Mr. Adams was only in part un- 
 derstood. The support he received was em- 
 phatic and general; but underneath there was a 
 current of dissatisfaction and distrust. 
 
 This, however, anticipates the narrative. 
 Throughout December Mr. Adams had, in the 
 Committee of Thirty-three, been constantly 
 manceuvring for position, and to gain time.) It 
 was yet many weeks before Lincoln would be 
 inaugurated. On December 8th, Howell Cobb, 
 
 1 Reuben Davis, of Mississippi, a member of the Committee 
 of Thirty-three and an influential ‘ fire-eater,” at the time 
 pronounced that committee “a tub thrown out to the whale, 
 to amuse only, until the 4th of March next, and thus arrest 
 the present noble and manly movements of the Southern 
 States to provide by that day for their security and safety out 
 of the Union. With these views I take my place on the com- 
 mittee, for the purpose of preventing it being made a means of 
 
 deception by which the public mind is to be misled and mis- 
 guided.’’ Globe, December 11, 1860, p. 59. 
 
134 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 of Georgia, had resigned the portfolio of the 
 Treasury to throw in his lot with the seceders ; 
 and on the 15th, in anger, disgust, and despair, 
 his secretary of state, General Cass, had aban- 
 doned President Buchanan. On the evening of 
 
 | the 26th Major Anderson had transferred his 
 
 command from Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter. 
 Up to this time, coolly watching his opponents 
 in the Committee of Thirty-three, the effort 
 of Mr. Adams had been directed towards mak- 
 ing them show their whole hand. With extrem- 
 ists at both ends, — Sumner and Chandler on 
 the one side, and Davis and Chestnut on the 
 other, — the North and the South were equally 
 divided, the advocates of compromise in the free 
 States vainly struggling against the influence of 
 the “ Black Republicans,” as they were desig- 
 nated, and the Unionists in the slave States 
 against that of the “ fire-eaters.” Mr. Adams 
 instinctively sought to show to the North that 
 compromise was out of the question by forcing 
 the representatives of the South from one posi- 
 tion to another, until their final demands were 
 shown to be impossible of concession ; and, while 
 by so doing he united the North, the conciliatory 
 tone adopted would tend temporarily to para- 
 lyze the South, if not permanently to divide it. 
 The border States were in dispute. 
 
 His diary, and still more his letters written at 
 
THE AWAKENING 135 
 
 the time, show the skill, temper, and clearness of 
 head with which Mr. Adams played the hand 
 assigned to him in this delicate game. The real 
 object of the secession movement, the end to 
 which his opponents were working, was not so 
 plain in the winter of 1860-61 as it has since be- 
 come; for what the leaders of the Confederacy 
 then secretly had in view, they in public care- 
 fully disavowed. It is now well understood that | 
 what they planned was the ultimate establish- 
 ment of a great semi-tropical republic, founded 
 on African servitude, which, including all, or 
 nearly all, the slave-holding States of the old 
 Union, should find ample field for almost unlim- 
 ited expansion in Mexico, Central America, and 
 the West Indies. The reopening of the slave 
 trade, as an inexhaustible source for the supply 
 of cheap labor, was a recognized feature of the 
 scheme, for obvious reasons sedulously disavowed 
 until a more opportune oceasion.! 
 
 As a whole, and in the more or less remote 
 future, the project was large and essentially ag- 
 gressive ; at the commencement it professed to 
 
 1 This subject has been well discussed by both Rhodes and 
 von Holst (Rhodes, ii. 34, 241, 367-373; iii. 119-124, 294, 
 822 ; von Holst, v. 18-16, 30, 477-490; vi. 336 ; vii. 263, 264) ; 
 and of the main features of the project, as it rested, more or 
 less clearly defined, in the minds of the leaders of the Confed- 
 eracy, there can be no question. See, also, Nicolay and Hay, 
 iii. 177. 
 
136 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 be modest and strictly defensive. Those ma- 
 turing it even assumed an attitude of injured 
 innocence, and seem at times almost to have 
 persuaded. themselves, as well as tried to per- 
 suade the world, of the wrongs which they 
 loudly averred. These were principally three 
 in number. First, and that most harped upon, 
 was the exclusion of slaves, as property, from 
 the territories, the common possession of the 
 Union, not yet organized into States. Next, 
 the alleged fear of the anti-slavery sentiment as 
 an aggressive force, in time disregarding con- 
 stitutional barriers and interfering with a strong 
 hand in the domestic institutions of the South. 
 And, finally, the Personal Liberty Acts passed 
 by legislatures of many of the free States, 
 practically nullifying in those States the consti- 
 tutional provision looking to the rendition of 
 fugitives from labor. Such were the capital 
 grievances of the South specifically alleged ; 
 but, in reality, a mere cover to the greater, un- 
 avowed, and as yet carefully disavowed, scheme 
 of southern empire and the slave trade. The 
 effort of Mr. Adams was to remove the mask, 
 and disclose to the free States, and yet more to 
 the hesitating border States, the reality be- 
 ‘neath. To this end, he framed the proposi- 
 tions advanced by him in the Committee of 
 Thirty-three: (1.) So far as the common ter- 
 
THE AWAKENING 137 
 
 ritory was concerned, rather than quarrel, let 
 us, he said, dispose of the matter finally by ad- 
 mitting the region in dispute into the Union as 
 a State, with or without slavery as its constitu- 
 tion when framed shall provide. (2.) As to 
 the Personal Liberty bills, the Fugitive Slave | 
 Law can be modified in its repulsive and uncon- 
 stitutional features, and those laws shall then be 
 repealed. (8.) Finally, the Republican party 
 had always carefully disavowed in every declara- 
 tion of principles all right, or any intent, to in- 
 terfere with slavery as a state institution ; and 
 so far as that cause of apprehension was con- 
 cerned, as a pledge of its good faith in making 
 its declarations, the Republican party would 
 agree to any reasonable additional constitutional 
 guarantee that might be asked for. 
 
 Confronted with these proposals, advanced in 
 perfect temper and apparent good faith, the 
 representatives of the slave States were in a 
 dilemma. If they accepted them, all cause of 
 complaint was removed, and secession became 
 mere wanton revolution. If they rejected them, 
 it must be because other and unavowed ends 
 were aimed at. If so, what were those ends? 
 The Southern extremists of the Gulf States, 
 the men of the Reuben Davis type, knew well 
 enough, and seceded without further discussion. 
 The representatives of the border States were 
 
138 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 less precipitate, and, in presence of their con- 
 stituents, more embarrassed. They, in their 
 turn, were well aware that, in presence of the 
 aroused anti-slavery sentiment of the free States, 
 the Fugitive Slave Law was a dead letter. The 
 _ modification of the Personal Liberty Acts to 
 conform to constitutional requirements was, they 
 felt, an empty concession; but they could not 
 refuse to accept it. One article of grievance 
 was thus removed. The alleged fear of inter- 
 ference with slavery as a state institution was 
 next disposed of. They could ask no more than 
 the additional guarantees freely offered. The 
 second article of grievance was thus removed. 
 There remained only the territorial question. 
 That, from conditions of soil and climate, slav- 
 ery as a system could not find a profitable field 
 for development in New Mexico, the only terri- 
 tory open to it then belonging to the United 
 States, had already been proved by experience. 
 The concession thus offered, as the representa- 
 tives of the slave States well knew, was abso- 
 lutely empty; none the less its acceptance re- 
 moved the last alleged cause of grievance. 
 Feeling themselves thus steadily pressed back 
 in discussion, the attitude of such members of 
 the committee from the slave States as still re- 
 mained upon it now underwent a change. The 
 mask had to fall. The complaint over exclusion 
 
THE AWAKENING 139 
 
 from territory already owned ceased to be heard, 
 and, in place thereof, it was claimed that the 
 existence of slavery and rights of slaveholders 
 should be recognized, and in advance affirmed, 
 in all southward territory thereafter to be ac- 
 quired. No longer modest and on the defensive, 
 the aggressive spirit and imperial ambition of 
 the slaveocracy were avowed. It had been driven 
 from cover. The only other question, that of 
 a reopened slave-trade, was not then at issue, 
 and the wish for it would have been promptly 
 and emphatically denied. Meanwhile the object 
 Mr. Adams had in view was attained. Accord- 
 ingly, the moment his opponents acknowledged 
 their alleged grievances as mere pretenses, and 
 disclosed their real purpose, he ceased to urge 
 on them his measures of adjustment. Before 
 the free States and before the border States the 
 issue was made, and was clear. The demand 
 simply could not be complied with. 
 
 Such were the views of the situation at Wash- 
 ington entertained by Mr. Adams during that 
 momentous winter, as described in his diary 
 and letters, as yet unpublished, with that vivid- 
 ness only possible in records contemporaneous 
 with events, when hopes and fears fluctuate 
 daily. As he himself summed it all up in a 
 letter relating to other matters addressed to 
 Mr. Sumner’s brother George, dated April 24, 
 
140 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 1861: ‘Our only course in the defenseless con- 
 dition in which we found ourselves was to gain 
 
 _ time, and bridge over the chasm made by Mr. 
 
 Buchanan’s weakness.” That this was the one 
 practical course for a statesman to pursue, un- 
 der the circumstances, seems now self-evident ; 
 that it was the course which would instinctively 
 suggest itself toa natural diplomat is apparent. 
 This Mr. Adams was. Looking upon him as 
 such, his line of action throughout that crisis 
 becomes explicable, and was right. He played 
 his hand for time and the occasion ; they came, 
 and he won. 
 
 The single set speech Mr. Adams made in 
 
 the course of this session was on January 81st, | 
 
 and it completely justified with the general pub- 
 lic the course he had taken. So far as the 
 House of Representatives was concerned, it was 
 unquestionably the speech of the session. Keenly 
 expected, listened to intently, published and re- 
 published in the leading papers of the country, 
 the response it elicited was immediate, emphatic, 
 and favorable. Mr. Adams had now come to 
 occupy a position of great prominence; only a 
 few days earlier Sherrard Clemens of Virginia, 
 one of the few border-state representatives 
 really sincere in their loyalty, had earnestly ex- 
 horted him to declare himself ; and now what he 
 said was listened to with an almost feverish in- 
 
THE AWAKENING 141 
 
 terest. In that speech, far the best and most 
 finished production of his life, Mr. Adams rose 
 to the occasion; and few occasions anywhere or 
 at any time have been greater. Though long 
 since lost sight of in the mass of utterances of 
 that time, — a mass so great as not to admit of 
 measurement except by the cubic foot or pound, 
 —this speech, when read by the historical inves- 
 tigator, speaks for itself. While delivering it 
 Mr. Adams stood near the centre of the great 
 Hall of Representatives, the galleries of which 
 were densely packed and breathlessly silent. 
 When he took the floor there was a general 
 movement of Southern members from their side 
 of the chamber towards him, and some of the 
 most extreme, in their anxiety to hear every 
 word he uttered, were imperceptibly attracted 
 until they found themselves occupying the desks 
 of their Republican opponents. Mr. Everett, 
 Robert C. Winthrop, and Governor Clifford, of 
 Massachusetts, all then in Washington, occupied 
 members’ seats close to the speaker; and, when 
 he finished, extended to him thanks and con- 
 gratulations. Indeed, it was a droll and highly 
 significant reversal of conditions when Robert 
 C. Winthrop was present and outspoken in com- 
 mendation, while Charles Sumner was noticeable 
 for his absence. The next day the correspon- 
 dents pronounced it “the ablest, most polished, 
 
142 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 and clearly argued speech delivered in House or 
 Senate the present session;” and the “ Louis- 
 ville Journal,” when reprinting it in full a week 
 later, commended it to readers in the border 
 States, “‘as the most finished and masterly, as 
 well as the most significant, expression of the 
 spirit of conciliation that has yet been made on 
 the Republican side.” That it contributed to 
 the unification of sentiment at the North was 
 nowhere more clearly shown than in a declara- 
 tion of George 8. Hillard, at the Union meeting 
 held a few days later in Boston. Mr. Hillard, 
 a devoted personal adherent of Mr. Webster, 
 then voiced more nearly than any other the 
 sentiments of the ‘“ Webster Whigs;” and Mr, 
 Hillard now declared that, in his speech, 
 ; Mr. Adams had yielded all “that an honorable 
 opponent ought to ask.’ On the other hand, 
 the division effected in the Southern ranks was 
 ~ shown by the declaration of Mr. Nelson, an in- 
 fluential member from Tennessee, that “at a 
 most critical moment” he had been led to take 
 “an entirely different course of action by a 
 ' timely suggestion made” by Mr. Adams. His 
 line of dontiies and utterance had thus tended 
 to unify and educate the supporters of the gov- 
 ernment, while, dividing its opponents, it held 
 the border States in suspense. 
 
 When it came to forming the Cabinet of the 
 
THE AWAKENING 143 
 
 new administration, the name of Mr. Adams 
 was much discussed. Governor Seward urged 
 him upon the President elect, through the po- 
 tent agency of Thurlow Weed; and the Massa- 
 chusetts delegation united in a formal recom- 
 mendation of him for the Treasury Department. 
 Mr. Lincoln, however, had his own ideas as to 
 who his advisers should be. One portfolio he 
 had assigned to New England; and, out of con- 
 sideration to Mr. Hamlin, of Maine, his associate 
 on the presidential ticket, he left it to that 
 gentleman to designate the person to whom 
 the portfolio in question should be confided. 
 At the same time he advised Mr. Hamlin that 
 those to whom most consideration had been 
 given were Mr. Adams, Governor Banks, of 
 Massachusetts, and Gideon Welles, of Connec- 
 ticut. For reasons which he stated to Mr. 
 Lincoln, Mr. Hamlin, though himself of Demo- 
 eratic antecedents, objected strongly to Gov- 
 ernor Banks, of the two preferring Mr. Adams. 
 Finally, with a view to the more even division 
 of the Cabinet, both Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Ham- 
 lin agreed that it was advisable that the mem- 
 ber of it from New England should have come 
 from the Democratic camp. Fortunately, as it 
 turned out, for him, this eliminated Mr. Adams, 
 as Governor Banks had been eliminated before ; 
 and the choice settled down on Mr. Welles. 
 
144 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Mr. Lincoln certainly was not predisposed in 
 favor of Mr. Adams for any position; though 
 the evidence is clear that he entertained no 
 particular objection to him. When it came, 
 however, to the assignment of the other more 
 prominent posts under his administration, the 
 President elect, acting on his own volition, had 
 pitched upon William L. Dayton, of New Jersey, 
 for the English mission, and John C. Fremont 
 for that to France; thus providing for the can- 
 didates made familiar to the country as the 
 nominees of the Republican party in the elec- 
 tion of 1856. This arrangement, made without 
 consultation with Mr. Seward, was, of course, 
 scarcely courteous to the secretary of state; 
 and moreover, in the case of one of the two 
 selected, was obnoxious. William H. Seward 
 was no admirer of John C. Fremont. The Presi- 
 dent, however, did not yield the point readily ; 
 and it was only as the result of persistent effort 
 that the secretary brought about the transfer of 
 Mr. Dayton to Paris, and Mr. Adams’s appoint- 
 ment to St. James. Even then Mr. Lincoln is 
 alleged to have excused himself for yielding by 
 the characteristic remark that the secretary of 
 state had begged very hard for it, and “ really, 
 Seward had asked for so little!” 
 
 Mr. Adams made at the time his own diary 
 record of the single official interview he was ever 
 
THE AWAKENING 145 
 
 destined to have with President Lincoln. His 
 half-amused, half-mortified, altogether shocked 
 description of it, given contemporaneously to 
 members of his family was far more graphic. 
 He had been summoned to Washington by the 
 secretary of state to receive his verbal instruc- 
 tions. The country was in the midst of the most 
 dangerous crisis in its history ; a crisis in which 
 the action of foreign governments, especially of 
 England, might well be decisive of results. The 
 policy to be pursued was under consideration. 
 It was a grave topic, worthy of thoughtful con- 
 sideration. Deeply impressed with the respon- 
 sibility devolved upon him, Mr. Adams went 
 with the new secretary to the State Depart- 
 ment, whence, at the suggestion of the latter, 
 they presently walked over to the White House, 
 and were ushered into the room which more than 
 thirty years before Mr. Adams associated most 
 closely with his father, and his father’s trained 
 bearing and methodical habits. Presently a 
 door opened, and a tall, large-featured, shabbily 
 dressed man, of uncouth appearance, slouched 
 into the room. His much-kneed, ill-fitting trou. 
 sers, coarse stockings, and worn slippers at once 
 caught the eye. He seemed generally ill at 
 ease, —in manner, constrained and shy. The 
 secretary introduced the minister to the Presi- 
 dent, and the appointee of the last proceeded 
 
146 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 to make the usual conventional remarks, expres- 
 sive of obligation, and his hope that the con- 
 fidence implied in the appointment he had re- 
 ceived might not prove to have been misplaced. 
 They had all by this time taken chairs; and the 
 tall man listened in silent abstraction. When 
 Mr. Adams had finished, — and he did not take 
 long, — the tall man remarked in an indifferent, 
 careless way that the appointment in question 
 had not been his, but was due to the secretary 
 of state, and that it was to ** Governor Seward ” 
 rather than to himself that Mr. Adams should 
 express any sense of obligation he might feel; 
 then, stretching out his legs before him, he said, 
 with an air of great relief as he swung his 
 long arms to his head : —“ Well, governor, I’ve 
 this morning decided that Chicago post-office 
 appointment.””’ Mr. Adams and the nation’s 
 foreign policy were dismissed together! Not 
 another reference was made to them. Mr. Lin- 
 coln seemed to think that the occasion called for 
 nothing further; as to Mr. Adams, it was a 
 good while before he recovered from his dis- 
 may ;— he never recovered from his astonish- 
 ment, nor did the impression then made ever 
 wholly fade from his mind. Indeed, it was 
 distinctly apparent in the eulogy on Seward 
 delivered by him at Albany twelve years after- 
 wards. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 THE PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 
 
 LEAVING Boston on May Ist, Mr. Adams got 
 to London late on the evening of the 138th. 
 Hardly had he reached his hotel, when Joshua 
 Bates was announced. Though the head of the 
 great English banking firm of Baring Brothers, 
 —reputed the first commercial house in the 
 world, — Mr. Bates was Massachusetts born, 
 having come from Weymouth, likewise the birth- 
 place of Mr. Adams’s grandmother, Mrs. John 
 Adams. Long settled in London, and rising by 
 pure force of business capacity to the first place 
 in the Royal Exchange, to Mr. Bates then and 
 afterwards belonged the honorable distinction of 
 being, in those dark and trying times, the most 
 outspoken and loyal American domiciled on 
 British soil. As such he now came first of all 
 ‘to express his satisfaction in seeing’ the newly 
 arrived American minister, “‘and his uneasiness 
 respecting the proceedings of the government.” 
 “ T confess,’ added Mr. Adams, after mention- 
 ing the visit of Mr. Bates, “the speech of Lord 
 John Russell has excited in me no small sur- 
 
148 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 prise.’ The speech referred to was that in 
 which Lord John Russell, then secretary for 
 foreign affairs, had announced the purpose of 
 the government to recognize the Confederacy as 
 a belligerent, though not as an established and 
 independent power; and the royal proclamation , 
 to that effect met Mr. Adams’s eyes in the 
 columns of the “ Gazette” of the following day. 
 Since his nomination, exactly eight weeks before, 
 events had moved hardly less rapidly in Europe 
 than at home; though at home they had wit- 
 nessed the fall of Sumter and the consequent 
 uprising of the North. 
 
 So far as the United States was concerned, — 
 meaning by the term United States that portion 
 of the Union which remained loyal, — the Eu- 
 ropean conditions at that time, bad, very bad, 
 in appearance, in their reality were still worse. 
 Well calculated to excite alarm at the moment, 
 looking back on them now, as they have since 
 been disclosed, the wonder is over the subsequent 
 escape. Indeed, it is not going too far to assert 
 that, between May and November, 1861, the 
 chances in Europe were as ten to one in favor 
 of the Confederacy and against the Union. But, 
 to appreciate the critical nature of the situation 
 in which Mr. Adams now found himself, its 
 leading features must be briefly reviewed. 
 
 In London, Paris, Madrid, and St. Petersburg, 
 

 

 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 149 
 
 and more especially in London and Paris, those 
 entrusted with the management of the foreign 
 relations of the several countries were, during 
 the spring of 1861, following the course of 
 American events with curious eyes,—eyes of 
 wonderment. That course was in fact mislead- 
 ing, if not bewildering, to a degree not easy now 
 to realize. The uprising of the North took place 
 in response to the proclamation of President 
 Lincoln and to his first call for troops, issued 
 on April 15th, the day following the fall of 
 Sumter. It was immediate and unmistakable; 
 but before that response, the outcome of the 
 secession movement had been to all outward 
 appearance as uncertain in America as, a month 
 later, it seemed still to be in Europe. Up to 
 the very day of the firing on Sumter the attitude 
 of the Northern States, even in case of hostilities, 
 was open to grave question; while, on the other 
 hand, that of the border slave States did not 
 admit of doubt. General disintegration seemed 
 imminent; nor was it clear that it would en- 
 counter any very tormidable cohesive resistance. 
 Not only were influential voices in the North 
 earnestly arguing that the “erring sisters” 
 should be permitted to ‘‘ depart in peace,” but, 
 even so late as April 1st, the correspondents of 
 the European press reported men as prominent, 
 and shortly afterwards as decided, as Charles 
 
150 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Sumner and Salmon P. Chase — the one a 
 senator from Massachusetts, the other the 
 secretary of the treasury —intimating more 
 than a willingness to allow the “ Southern States 
 to go out with their slavery, if they so desired 
 it.’ At the same time the mayor of the city of 
 New York, in an official message to the munici- 
 pal legislative department, calmly discussed and 
 distinctly advocated the expediency of that 
 municipality also withdrawing itself from both 
 Union and State, and proclaiming itself a free 
 port of the Hanse type. Not without ground, 
 therefore, did the London ‘“ Times” now declare 
 that, to those ‘who look at things from a dis- 
 tance, it appears as if not only States were to 
 be separated from States, but even as if States 
 themselves were to be broken up, the counties 
 assuming to themselves the same rights of sover- 
 elgn power as have been arrogated by the larger 
 divisions of the country.” All this time the 
 Southern sympathizers throughout the loyal 
 States were earnest, outspoken, and defiant; 
 while Mr. Seward, the member of the Presi- 
 dent’s Cabinet in charge of foreign affairs, both 
 in his official papers and his private talk, repu- 
 diated not only the right but the wish even ‘to 
 use armed force in subjugating the Southern 
 States against the will of a majority of the peo- 
 ple;” and declared that the President “ willingly” 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 151 
 
 aecepted as true the “cardinal dogma” of the 
 seceding States, that “the federal government 
 could not reduce them to obedience by conquest,” 
 — the very thing subsequently done. All philo- 
 sophical disquisitions of this character were a 
 few days later effectually silenced in a passion- 
 ate outburst of aroused patriotism; but, none 
 the less, for the time being they were in vogue, 
 and, while in vogue, they puzzled and deceived. 
 European public men could not understand such 
 utterances; and, not understanding them, put 
 on them a false construction. 
 
 The continental nations in those days got the 
 little knowledge they had of American affairs at 
 second-hand, —from English sources; and Eng- 
 land looked largely to the “ Times.” The legend 
 of “the Thunderer,” as portrayed by Kinglake 
 in his history of the Crimean War, still held 
 sway, and “the Thunderer” had sent out to 
 America Dr. William H. Russell, the famous 
 special war correspondent with the army be- 
 fore Sebastopol, to enlighten Europe as to the 
 true inwardness of affairs. Dr. Russell landed 
 in New York in the middle of March, 1861, — 
 just one month before the great uprising ; and 
 the feature in the situation which seemed to im- 
 press him most was the dilettante, insouciant 
 tone with which in all circles the outcome of the 
 political situation was discussed. In his own 
 
152 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 words, describing the atmosphere he found in 
 the foremost social, monetary, and _ political 
 circles of New York, “there was not the slight- 
 est evidence of uneasiness on account of cirecum- 
 stances which, to the eye of a stranger, betokened 
 an awful crisis, if not the impending dissolution 
 of society itself.” This was written on March 
 19th, the day the appointment of Mr. Adams was 
 announced from Washington ; and a fortnight 
 later, having then got to that city, Dr. Russell 
 wrote: ‘“ Practically, so far as I have gone, I 
 have failed to meet many people who really ex- 
 hibited any passionate attachment to the Union, 
 or who pretended to be actuated by any strong 
 feeling of regard or admiration for the govern- 
 ment of the United States in itself.” Such 
 were the views and conclusions of an unpreju- 
 diced observer, communicated through the me- 
 dium of the most influential journal in the world 
 to Europe in general, and, more especially, to 
 those then comprising Her Majesty’s govern- 
 ment. 
 
 In May, 1861, the so-called Palmerston-Rus- 
 sell ministry had been in power a little less than 
 two years, having displaced the preceding con- 
 servative government, of which Lord Derby was 
 the head, in June, 1859. So far as the indi- 
 vidual talents of those composing it were con- 
 cerned, this ministry was looked upon as the 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 153 
 
 strongest ever formed. Lord Palmerston was 
 Premier, and led the Commons; Lord John 
 Russell, as he still was, had charge of foreign 
 affairs; Mr. Gladstone was chancellor of the 
 exchequer; and Sir George Cornewall Lewis 
 was secretary for war. The long list of subor- 
 dinate positions was filled with other names of 
 mark and weight. When the returns of the 
 parliamentary election were first complete, the 
 Liberal party was supposed to be almost hope- 
 lessly broken up. Afterwards, through an un- 
 derstanding reached between the two chieftains, 
 Palmerston and Russell, it had become singu- 
 larly compact; and, under a strong government, 
 confronted, with a small but reliable majority, a 
 vigorous opposition skillfully led by Mr. Disraeli. 
 In 1861 Lord Palmerston was in his seventy- 
 seventh year, and Lord John Russell was eight 
 years his junior; both were among the oldest 
 and most experienced, and were ranked among 
 the ablest, of European statesmen. So far as the 
 complications in America were concerned, the 
 current supposition was that the sympathies of 
 Lord John would naturally incline towards the 
 loyalists as representing the anti-slavery senti- 
 ment, while Lord Palmerston would almost cer- 
 tainly array himself more or less openly on the . 
 side of the slaveholding secessionists. The posi- 
 tion of France was not understood. In America, 
 
154 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 a vague impression prevailed, based on old Re- 
 volutionary memories, of a friendly feeling be- 
 tween the two countries as against Great Britain. 
 Traditionally they were allies. Accordingly Dr. 
 Russell noted, so soon as he began to mix in 
 New York social life and listen to the conversa- 
 tion at its dinner-tables, that ‘‘it was taken for 
 eranted that Great Britain would only act on 
 sordid motives, but that the well-known affec- 
 tion of France for the United States is to check 
 the selfishness of her rival, and prevent a speedy 
 recognition.” This was the loose, uninstructed 
 talk of the club and street; but in better in- 
 formed circles it was whispered that the French 
 minister at Washington was advising his goy- 
 ernment of the early and inevitable disintegra- 
 tion of the Union, and suggesting that formal 
 recognition of the new Confederacy for which a 
 little later Louis Napoleon intimated readiness. 
 The Emperor, in fact, was already maturing his 
 Mexican schemes, and, in connection with them, 
 covertly making overtures looking to the early 
 and complete disruption of the United States. 
 So far as public opinion was concerned, Great 
 Britain, and more especially England, was in a 
 curious condition. Sentiment had not erystal- 
 lized. The governing and aristocratic classes, 
 especially in London, were at heart in sympathy 
 with the slaveholding movement, and, regard- 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 155 
 
 ing the trans-Atlantic experiment as the pioneer 
 of a popular movement at home, now hoped and 
 believed that “ the great Republican bubble in 
 America had burst.” Of this they made no con- 
 cealment; but, constrained to an extent by théir 
 old record and utterances as respects slavery and 
 its wrongs, —their lionizing of Mrs. Stowe, and 
 their reflections on the depth of that barbarism 
 which made possible such brutalities as the as- 
 sault on Sumner, —reflecting on all this, they 
 now had recourse to one of those pharisaic, better- 
 than-thou moods at times characteristic of the 
 race. People, who in their own belief, as well as 
 in common acceptance, were the best England 
 had, vied with each other in expressions of as- 
 tonishment that such a condition of affairs as that 
 now day by day disclosed in America could exist, 
 and, with wearisome, just-what-I-expected itera- 
 tion, pretended bewilderment over what their kin 
 across the sea were generally about. Quietly for- 
 getful of Ireland, English men and women won- 
 dered why Americans should object to national 
 suicide, or, as they euphemistically phrased it, 
 friendly separation. Language quite failed them 
 in which adequately to express their sense of the 
 violence, coarseness, and lack of Christian and 
 brotherly feeling which marked the controversy. 
 Aristocratic England was in fact in one of its 
 least pleasing mental and moral phases, — a phase 
 
156 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 in which the unctuous benignity of Chadband 
 combined with the hypocritical cant of Peck- 
 sniff. Such was the prevailing social tone. 
 When, it was declared, “‘ calmer reflection shall 
 have succeeded to that storm of passion now 
 sweeping over the North,” the citizens of the 
 United States would consider as their “ sincerest 
 friends”’ those who now sought to secure the re- 
 cognition of the Confederacy ; for such were 
 moved so to do “not from any hostility towards 
 them, nor from any advocacy of slavery, but 
 from love of peace and unrestricted commerce, 
 from horror of civil war and unrestrained 
 hatred ;” and so on ad nauseam in that famil- 
 lar, conventicle strain so dear to the British 
 Philistine, in which the angry bulldog growl 
 grates harshly beneath the preacher’s lachry- 
 mose whine. On the other hand, the large non- 
 conforming, dissenting, middle-class element, — 
 that best represented by Cobden, Bright, and 
 Forster, —the friends of free labor and advo- 
 cates of a democratic republic, naturally well 
 disposed to the loyal side in the American con- 
 test, —the men of this class were taken by 
 surprise and quite demoralized in action by the 
 rapidity with which events moved. They were 
 bewildered by the apparent and quite inexpli- 
 cable indifference which seemed to prevail in the 
 free States, while the procession of slave States 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 157 
 
 was noisily flaunting out of the Union. Time 
 was necessary in which to enable these men — 
 the real rulers of England — to inform them- 
 selves as to the true situation, and to concen- 
 trate their scattered forces. Unless swept off 
 their feet by some blind popular impulse, such 
 as those only a few years before engineered by 
 the wily Palmerston in the “ opium war” and 
 the Crimean war, Bright and Cobden and 
 Forster could be relied on, working upon the 
 old lines, gradually to arouse the moral sense 
 of their countrymen. 
 
 Meanwhile the foreign ministers appointed 
 under the Buchanan administration were still at 
 their posts, though expecting soon to be relieved, 
 —among them, Mr. Dallas, of Philadelphia, at 
 London, Mr. Faulkner, of Virginia, at Paris, 
 and Mr. Preston, of Kentucky, at Madrid. 
 Pending the appointment and arrival of their 
 successors these gentlemen had been notified by 
 a circular from Secretary Seward, issued as 
 soon as he entered upon the duties of his office, 
 to “use all proper and necessary measures to 
 prevent the success of efforts which may be 
 made by persons claiming to represent [the se- 
 ceding States] to procure recognition.” In com- 
 pliance with these instructions, Mr. Dallas, on 
 April 8th, had an interview with Lord John 
 Russell, in the course of which he received assur- 
 
158 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ances, which he transmitted to Washington, that 
 “the coming of Mr. Adams would doubtless be 
 regarded as the appropriate occasion for finally 
 discussing and determining the question” of 
 the attitude to be taken by Great Britain in 
 view of the American troubles. The dispatch 
 from Mr. Dallas containing this assurance was 
 received at the State Department shortly after 
 the middle of April, and to the confidence caused 
 by it that nothing would be done until the ar- 
 rival of Mr. Adams, was due the fact that Mr. 
 Adams was not earlier hurried to his post. As 
 it was, his instructions, bearing date the 10th, 
 did not reach Mr. Adams until Saturday the 
 27th of April, and he sailed four days later, on 
 Wednesday, the Ist of May. Meanwhile the 
 startling news of the fall of Fort Sumter had 
 preceded him, reaching London on April 26th, 
 seventeen days before he landed at Liverpool ; 
 and during those days the agents of the Con- 
 federate government then in Europe, Messrs. 
 W. L. Yancey, of Alabama, and P. A. Rost, of 
 Louisiana, had not been idle. First on the 
 ground, they had, though in an “unofficial” 
 way, also obtained access to the British secre- 
 tary for foreign affairs. 
 
 James L. Orr, of South Carolina, for a time 
 chairman of the House Committee on Foreign 
 Affairs of the Confederate Congress, is author- 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 159 
 
 ity for the statement that the Confederacy 
 ‘never had a foreign policy, nor did its gov- 
 ernment ever consent to attempt a high diplo- 
 macy with European powers.” Historically 
 speaking, this assertion does not seem to have 
 been inconsistent with the facts; and the ab- 
 sence of a sagacious, far-reaching, diplomatic 
 policy on the part of the Confederacy was ap- 
 parently due to a double error into which its 
 executive head, Jefferson Davis, early fell. He 
 at once overestimated the natural influences at 
 work in behalf of the Confederates, and under- 
 estimated his enemy. Immediately after his in- 
 auguration at Montgomery on February 18th, 
 and before making any civil appointment, Mr. 
 Davis had sent for Mr. Yancey and offered him 
 his choice of positions within the executive gift. 
 Upon his intimating the usual modest preference 
 for service in a private capacity, Davis insisted 
 on the acceptance by him of one of two places, 
 —a cabinet portfolio, or the head of the com- 
 mission to Europe for which the Confederate 
 Congress had already provided. At the same 
 time, the new President intimated a wish that 
 the latter might be preferred. The selection was 
 not in all respects judicious ; for while Jefferson 
 Davis in his dealings with European nations nat- 
 urally desired to keep slavery, as a factor in se- 
 cession, in the background, and above all to deny 
 
160 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 any desire, much more an intention, on the part 
 of the Confederacy to reopen the African slave 
 trade, Mr. Yancey was, both by act and utter- 
 ance, more identified in the public mind than 
 any other Southern man with both those 
 causes. That gentleman, however, now sub- 
 mitted to his brother, B. C. Yancey, who had 
 some diplomatic experience, the Davis proposi- 
 tion. Should he accept the first place in the 
 proposed European commission? B. C. Yan- 
 cey advised strongly against his so doing, and 
 the points he urged showed a very considerable 
 insight into the real facts of the situation as 
 they subsequently developed. The year before, 
 while returning from a diplomatic mission to 
 one of the South American states, B. C. Yan- 
 cey had passed some time in England, and, 
 while there, had sought to inform himself as to 
 the currents of public opinion, and their prob- 
 able action in case a slave confederacy should 
 be formed and should seek recognition. Though 
 the British suffrage had not then been so en- 
 larged as to include the laboring classes, he 
 became satisfied that the government was on 
 that account hardly the less respectful of their 
 wishes. Cobden and Bright were the leaders of 
 the working classes; and Cobden and Bright 
 would oppose any recognition of a govern- 
 ment based on a system of African slave labor. 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 161 
 
 Unless, therefore, the Confederacy was prepared 
 to authorize through its commission commercial 
 advantages so liberal as to outweigh all other 
 considerations, no British government, however 
 well disposed, would in the end venture to run 
 counter to the anti-slavery feeling of the coun- 
 try by arecognition of the Confederacy. Unless 
 armed in advance with authority to commit the 
 Confederacy to this length, B. C. Yancey ad- 
 vised his brother to have nothing to do with the 
 proffered mission. 
 
 Under the provisions of the Confederate Con- 
 stitution it was for the President to determine 
 the scope of any diplomatic function. At this 
 point, therefore, Jefferson Davis became the 
 leading factor in the situation. His idiosyn- 
 erasies had to be taken into account; and they 
 were so taken. Though an able man and of 
 strong will, Mr. Davis had little personal know- 
 ledge of countries other than his own, or, in- 
 deed, of more than a section of his own 
 country ; but, most unfortunately for himself and 
 for the cause of which he became the expo- 
 nent, he was dominated — for no other word ex- 
 presses the case—by an undue and, indeed, an 
 overweening faith in the practical world-mastery 
 enjoyed by that section through its exclusive 
 production and consequent control of cotton, 
 its great agricultural staple. That Cotton was 
 
162 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 indeed King, and would in the end so be 
 found, was his unswerving conviction. As 
 Mrs. Davis subsequently expressed it in her 
 biography of her husband: “The President and 
 his advisers looked to the stringency of the 
 English cotton market, and the suspension of 
 the manufactories, to send up a ground swell 
 from the English operatives, that would compel 
 recognition ;” or, as Dr. Russell, writing to the 
 same effect from Montgomery, put it at this 
 very time: ‘They firmly believe that the war 
 will not last a year... . They believe in the 
 irresistible power of cotton, in the natural al- 
 liance between manufacturing England and 
 France and the cotton-producing slave States, 
 and in the force of their simple tariff.” So 
 much for the leading trump card President Da- 
 vis held in the great game he was about to play. 
 Meanwhile, on the other hand, he entertained a 
 somewhat unduly low opinion, approaching even 
 contempt, for the physical courage, military ca- 
 pacity, and patriotic devotion of his adversaries. 
 He did not permit himself for an instant to 
 doubt the ability of the Confederacy to hold 
 the United States firmly in check during any 
 amount of time needed to enable the cotton 
 famine to do its work thoroughly. Neither, it 
 must now be admitted, did he err on this point. 
 His error lay in his estimate of the potency of a 
 cotton famine, as a factor in foreign polities. 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 163 
 
 From Mr. Davis’s point of view, consequently, 
 the diplomatic problem before the Confederacy 
 was one easy of solution. VIf no cotton was 
 allowed to go forward, Great Britain would in 
 less than six months be starved into subjection ; 
 she must raise the blockade to preserve her in- 
 ternal peace, if not to prevent revolution. Under 
 these circumstances, it was obviously unnecessary 
 to concede through diplomacy much, if anything, 
 to secure that which the Confederacy had the 
 power, and fully purposed, to compel. This was 
 a perfectly logical view of the situation from the 
 Confederate standpoint, and the early events of 
 the struggle went far to justify it. In a few 
 weeks after hostilities began, cotton doubled in 
 price. The Confederate Congress next put a 
 discriminating tax on its production, while in 
 the seceding States it was common talk that all 
 the cotton on hand ought to be destroyed by the 
 government, and formal notice should be served 
 on Great Britain that no crop would be planted 
 until after the full recognition of the Confeder- 
 acy. On the other hand, the physical power of 
 the South as a resisting force was demonstrated 
 at Bull Run ; and, as Mrs. Davis says, the neces- 
 sary time in which to make the cotton famine 
 felt being absolutely assured after that engage- 
 ment, “foreign recognition was looked forward 
 to as an assured fact.” Such was the diplomacy 
 
164 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 of President Davis. It at least possessed the 
 virtue of simplicity. 
 
 On the other hand there were weak points, — 
 points, indeed, of almost incredible weakness, in 
 the diplomacy of the United States. Fortunately 
 they were only suspected. Even so, they gave 
 an infinity of trouble; had they been known, 
 they could hardly have failed to be the cause of 
 irreparable disaster. At an early stage of the 
 war it became quite apparent both at Washing- 
 ton and at Richmond that by some understand- 
 ing already reached, partly express and partly 
 tacit, the nations of Europe had decided to leave 
 the initiative in all action touching the Ameri- 
 can contest to Great Britain and France, as be- 
 ing the two powers most intimately concerned ; 
 and France again looked to Great Britain for 
 a lead. Thus from the very outset, so far as 
 Europe was concerned, Great Britain became 
 for America the storm centre ; and, in that cen- 
 tre, the danger focused in London. *In London 
 the new American foreign secretary was re- 
 garded with grave suspicion. Not only was Mr. 
 Seward believed in official circles to be unreliable 
 and to the last degree tricky, but he was assumed 
 to be actuated by a thoroughly unscrupulous dis- 
 regard not only of treaty obligations but, so far 
 as foreign nations and especially Great Britain 
 were concerned, of international morals. 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 165 
 
 This impression, vague and accordingly diffi- 
 cult to combat, dated far back, even to the 
 McLeod case when, twenty years previous, Mr. 
 Seward had been governor of New York, and 
 as such had sustained the state courts in some 
 rather questionable legal positions, which occa- 
 sioned Mr. Webster, then secretary of state, 
 more or less trouble. More recently he had 
 fallen into some indiscretion of social speech, 
 concerning which various accounts were at times 
 current, and these still further complicated a sit- 
 uation at best difficult. The incident is supposed 
 to have occurred during the visit of the Prince 
 of Wales to the United States, in 1860, and at a 
 dinner given to him in Albany. The story is 
 that Mr. Seward, “ fond of badinage,” as Dr. Rus- 
 sell expressed it, then in a jocose way intimated to 
 the Duke of Newcastle, who was at the head of 
 the Prince’s suite, that he [Seward] expected 
 *¢soon to hold a very high office here in my own 
 country ; it will then,” he was alleged to have 
 added, “ become my duty to insult England, and 
 I mean to do so.” Subsequently Mr. Weed 
 wrote to Mr. Seward about the matter. Mr. 
 Seward, in reply, professed himself greatly sur- 
 prised, but said the story was so absurd that to 
 notice it by a denial would on his part be almost 
 a sacrifice of personal dignity. None the less, 
 there can be no doubt that such a story did ema- 
 
166 CHARLES, FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 nate from the Duke of Newcastle; and, during 
 the years that followed, it is equally undeniable 
 that the story in question made its appearance 
 with great regularity, though in form variously 
 modified, whenever the relations between the 
 United States and Great Britain were, in ap- 
 pearance or reality, in any way “strained.” 
 The fact seems to have been that, on the occa- 
 sion referred to, Mr. Seward indulged in what 
 he intended for some playful “chaff” of the 
 Duke, in no degree seriously meant, or to be 
 taken seriously. It was a form of social inter- 
 course to which Mr. Seward was a good deal 
 addicted, especially at dinner-table, and when 
 conversation was stimulated by champagne. Not 
 that the idle, ill-natured talk, so current at one 
 time concerning him on this head, was true; for 
 it was not. Partly society gossip, and partly per- 
 sonal and political malevolence, it has since been 
 forgotten. But Governor Seward was social ; 
 and, at table, in no way abstemious. He enjoyed 
 his food, his wine, and his cigar; and, having 
 in him this element of good fellowship, his 
 tongue sometimes yielded to its influence. Under 
 these circumstances and in this mood, not know- 
 ing his Grace of Newcastle well, or weighing the 
 construction that might be put on his words, it 
 is supposed that the senator, as he then was, in 
 clumsy, humorous vein, on the occasion in ques- 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 167 
 
 tion, let the American eagle scream, to the 
 grave and lasting perplexity of his table neigh- 
 bor. By that neighbor his talk was afterwards 
 repeated, and then again by others repeated, 
 until it assumed the veritas in vino form of an 
 indiscreet dinner-table disclosure. 
 
 Fortunately this mere social indiscretion ad- 
 mitted of explanation and denial; but that, at 
 a later day, some such idea respecting Great 
 Britain as that commonly imputed to him, was 
 really lurking in Secretary Seward’s mind, is 
 shown by the memorandum entitled “Some 
 Thoughts for the President’s Consideration,” 
 which bore date April 1, 1861, and was first 
 made public from among his papers by Lin- 
 coln’s biographers, Messrs. Nicolay and Hay, 
 nearly thirty years later. This paper, the very 
 existence of which had probably passed out of 
 Mr. Seward’s recolleetion, Mr. Adams never 
 saw; indeed it was not published until after 
 his death. He never had an opportunity, there- 
 fore, to offer his explanation of the enigma. 
 Meanwhile he had dined with Secretary Seward 
 in Washington on the evening of March 30th, 
 two days before the paper in question was dated 
 and handed to Mr. Lincoln. It must then have 
 been in its writer’s mind; but, if so, it was not 
 reflected in the slightest degree either in his in- 
 timate conversation, or in the instructions to 
 
168 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 various ministers then lying on his desk, and 
 submitted to Mr. Adams for perusal. None the 
 less, it is now undeniable that, so late as April 
 1, 1861, Mr. Seward was gravely proposing to 
 the President, as a national distraction from im- 
 pending troubles, a general foreign war, to be 
 provoked by that very attitude towards Great 
 Britain which had been foreshadowed in the 
 alleged apocryphal dinner-table talk of six 
 months earlier. That talk caused Mr. Adams, 
 first and last, almost endless annoyance and 
 trouble; and it was certainly fortunate for the 
 outgoing minister to Great Britain that the 
 secretary had in no degree taken him into his 
 inmost confidence during that gentleman’s visit 
 to Washington before starting to assume the 
 duties of his position. Had he done so, the 
 minister could scarcely have denied as persist- 
 ently as the exigencies of the case called for 
 the stories of Mr. Seward’s animus towards 
 Great Britain. As will shortly be seen, also, 
 the memorandum of April Ist only a few weeks 
 later exercised an influence not recognized at the 
 time, nor indeed until long years after, on other 
 instructions sent to Mr. Adams which only just 
 failed suddenly to end his mission. 
 
 The details of the fall of Sumter and the sub- 
 sequent proclamation of Lincoln appeared in the 
 
 London papers of April 27th, and on May Ist 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 169 
 
 Lord John Russell sent for Mr. Dallas, in con- 
 sequence of the reports which immediately began 
 to circulate as to the intentions of President Lin- 
 colu regarding a blockade of the Southern coast 
 and the discontinuance of its harbors as ports of 
 entry. At this interview Lord John informed 
 Mr. Dallas of the arrival in London of Messrs, 
 Yancey and Rost, and intimated that an inter- 
 view had been sought, and that he was not un- 
 willing to see them “unofficially.”’ He at the 
 same time gave notice of an understanding 
 reached between the governments of France and 
 England that the two countries should act to- 
 gether, and take the same course as to recogni- 
 tion. Mr. Dallas in his turn informed Lord 
 John that Mr. Adams was to sail from Boston 
 that very day, and would be in London in two 
 weeks, and it was accordingly again agreed to 
 pay no attention to ‘mere rumors,” but to await 
 the arrival of the new minister, who would have 
 full knowledge of the intentions of his govern- 
 ment. The next day (May 2d) in response to 
 questions in the House of Commons, Lord John 
 announced it as the policy of the government 
 “to avoid taking any part in the lamentable 
 contest now raging in the American States.” 
 ‘“ We have not,” he declared, “been involved 
 in any way in that contest by any act or giving 
 any advice in the matter, and, for God’s sake, 
 let us if possible keep out of it.” 
 
170 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 The following day the two Confederate com- 
 missioners were received by Lord John “ un- 
 officially.” They owed this favor to the friendly 
 intercession of Mr. W. H. Gregory, an Irish 
 member of Parliament of strong Confederate 
 proclivities, who must have been very active in 
 their behalf, as, leaving New Orleans at the 
 close of March, they did not reach England 
 until Monday, the 29th of April, and on Thurs- 
 day, May 2d, the day after Mr. Adams left 
 Boston, they were in the foreign secretary’s 
 reception-room. Into the details of this inter- 
 view it is not necessary here to enter. It is 
 sufficient to say that it afforded a fair example 
 of the Confederate diplomacy. On the part of 
 the Southern commissioners it was essentially 
 weak, — in reality apologetic so far as slavery 
 was concerned, and altogether empty as respects 
 inducements for aid. Lord John Russell was an 
 attentive listener merely. 
 
 This was on May 2d; and, on the 6th, the 
 questions involved having in the meantime been 
 considered by the government, and the opinions 
 of the crown lawyers obtained, the foreign 
 secretary formally announced in the Commons 
 that belligerent rights would be conceded to the 
 Confederacy. Five days later, on May 11th, 
 President Lincoln’s proclamation of blockade 
 was officially communicated to the British 
 
 bd 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 171 
 
 government by Mr. Dallas, together with a copy 
 of Secretary Seward’s cireular of April 20th 
 addressed to the foreign ministers of the United 
 States in relation to privateers against American 
 commerce fitted out in accordance with President 
 Davis’s letter-of-marque notification of three 
 days previous. A copy of this document had, 
 however, already reached the Foreign Office, 
 transmitted by Lord Lyons. The Queen’s pro- 
 clamation of neutrality, announced by Sir 
 George Lewis in the House of Commons as 
 contemplated, on the 9th, was formally author- 
 ized on the 13th, and appeared officially in the 
 *‘ London Gazette” of the following day ; the ar- 
 rival of the Niagara, with Mr. Adams on board, 
 at Queenstown having been telegraphed to Lon- 
 don on the 12th. 
 
 Such was the sequence of events. Unques- 
 tionably the Queen’s proclamation followed hard 
 upon the “ unofficial” reception of the com- 
 missioners, — so hard, indeed, as to be strongly 
 suggestive of connection. The natural inference 
 was that the one event contributed to the other; 
 and the commissioners, with apparent grounds, 
 professed themselves entirely satisfied with the 
 results of their conference. But, whether the 
 representations made to the British foreign 
 secretary by Messrs. Yancey and Rost on May 
 3d did or did not affect the decision announced 
 
172 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 by Her Majesty’s government on the 6th, there 
 can be no question that the proclamation of the 
 18th was issued with unseemly haste, and in 
 disregard of the assurances given to Mr. Dallas 
 only five days previous. The purpose was 
 manifest. It was to have the status of the Con- 
 federacy, as a belligerent, an accomplished fact 
 before the arrival of the newly accredited 
 minister. ‘This precipitate action was chiefly 
 significant as indicating an animus; that animus 
 being really based on the agreement for joint 
 action just reached between the governments of 
 Great Britain and France, and the belief, already 
 matured into a conviction, that the full recogni- 
 tion of the Confederacy as an independent power 
 was merely a question of time, and probably 
 of a very short time. 
 
 The feeling excited in America, and among 
 Americans in Europe, by this precipitate act, 
 was intense; and the indignation was more out- 
 spoken than discreet, being largely minatory and 
 based on the assumed greater friendliness of 
 France. It must also be conceded that loyal 
 America was then in a mental condition closely 
 verging on hysteria. It could see things only 
 from one point of view; and that point of view 
 its own as then occupied. The insouciance of 
 the period prior to April 13th was wholly 
 gone, — something of the forgotten past; and 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 173 
 
 the bitter denunciation now poured forth on 
 Great Britain knew no limit: but there rang 
 through it, distinctly perceptible, a well-grounded 
 tone of alarm. The possible imminence of a 
 great disaster was recognized. 
 
 Looking back on the incident in the full light 
 of subsequent events, it will now be conceded 
 that, had Great Britain then been actuated by 
 really friendly feelings, the thing would not have 
 been done at just that time, or in that brusque 
 way, highly characteristic though it was of Lord 
 John Russell; on the other hand, that it was 
 done then and in that way proved in the result 
 most fortunate, not only for Mr. Adams person- 
 ally but for the cause he represented. Great 
 Britain having through its foreign secretary’s 
 action put itself in the wrong, Lord John there- 
 after, under the steady pressure to which he was 
 subjected, found himself on the defensive, and 
 insensibly became correspondingly over-cautious. 
 The weight of opinion, even among Americans, 
 has since tended to the conclusion that the pro- 
 clamation of May 13th admitted of justification ;} 
 but, whether it did or no while issued at that 
 precise time and in that way, it certainly could 
 not have been deferred later than immediately 
 after the arrival of the news of the disaster of 
 Bull Run, shortly before the close of the follow- 
 
 1 Rhodes, iii. 420, note. 
 
174 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ing July: and, if then considered and conceded, 
 it might well have carried with it a full recogni- 
 tion of the Confederacy. As it was, the partial 
 and ill-considered concession proved final, and, 
 as matter of fact, precluded the more important 
 ulterior step. None the less, at the moment 
 Mr. Adams regarded it as a most adverse and 
 unfortunate opening of his diplomatic career. 
 It so chanced that Lord John’s eldest brother, 
 the Duke of Bedford, died at just this time; so 
 the interview at the Foreign Office which had 
 been arranged for Mr. Adams the day after his 
 arrival could not take place. Meanwhile a dis- 
 patch from Mr. Dallas had been received in 
 Washington foreshadowing the course after- 
 wards pursued by the British government, and 
 this dispatch had excited much indignation in 
 the mind of Secretary Seward. He forthwith 
 wrote to Mr. Adams, under date of April 27th, 
 directing him at once to demand an explanation. 
 This dispatch (No. 4) was, however, only pre- 
 liminary to a far more important dispatch (No. 
 10) of May 21st, and the two can best be con- 
 sidered later on, and together. They involve a 
 discussion, and if possible some explanation 
 which shall at least be plausible, of the incident 
 most difficult to account for in all Secretary 
 Seward’s career, — the incident from which, it 
 is not too much to say, his posthumous reputa- 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 175 
 
 tion has suffered, and will probably continue to 
 suffer, great injury. 
 
 In the mean time, acting promptly on the in- 
 structions contained in the dispatch of April 
 27th, Mr. Adams requested an interview, and 
 on Saturday, May 18th, drove out to Pembroke 
 Lodge, where Lord John then was, for the first 
 of his many interviews with the foreign secre- 
 tary. He found him “a man of sixty-five 
 or seventy, of about the same size as myself, 
 with a face marked by care and thought rather 
 than any strong expression. © His eye is, I think, 
 blue and cold.” The conversation lasted more 
 than an hour. Mr. Adams wrote that while, 
 in carrying it on, he “avoided the awkward- 
 ness of a categorical requisition, it was only to 
 transfer the explanation to the other side of the 
 water ;” and, he added, “my conclusion from 
 it is that the permanency of my stay is by no 
 means certain.” In the course of this important 
 first interview, Mr. Adams and his future an- 
 tagonist must instinctively have measured each 
 other. On neither side, probably, was the con- 
 clusion unsatisfactory. The two men were, in 
 fact, from a certain similarity of disposition, 
 naturally calculated to deal the one with the 
 other. Of Earl Russell, as he was then soon to 
 become, it has since been said by a writer very 
 capable of forming an opinion, and with excep- 
 
176 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 tionally good means of correctly so doing in 
 that case, that his “standard of private and 
 public virtue was as high as that which any man 
 has ever maintained in practice throughout a 
 long and honored life;” ! and those who knew 
 him best would not be indisposed to assert a simi- 
 lar claim on behalf of Mr. Adams. Men of the 
 highest character, public and private, both were 
 marked by a certain simplicity and directness 
 of manner and bearing, not unaccompanied by 
 reserve, which must at once have commended 
 them each to the other. Lord John was the older 
 and much the more experienced of the two; but 
 he could not, nor did he, fail at once to recognize 
 in Mr. Adams a certain quiet undemonstrative 
 force which bespoke one, like himself, of the 
 genuine Anglo-Saxon stock. They thus, most 
 fortunately for the great interests they had in 
 charge, liked and respected each other, and got 
 on together, from the start. 
 
 All now went quietly until June 10th. On 
 that day Mr. Adams received Mr. Seward’s dis- 
 patch No. 10, of May 21st, written when the 
 Queen’s Proclamation of Neutrality was plainly 
 foreshadowed. Of it he wrote on a first pe- 
 rusal: “*The government seems ready to de- 
 clare war with all the powers of Europe, and 
 almost instructs me to withdraw from communi- 
 
 1 Trevelyan, The American Revolution, 8, 9. 
 
PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 177 
 
 cation with the ministers here, in a certain con- 
 tingency. I scarcely know how to understand 
 Mr. Seward. The rest of the government may 
 be demented for all that I know; but he surely 
 is calm and wise.” 
 
CHAPTER X 
 SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 
 
 ‘“¢ My duty here is, so far as I can do it hon- 
 estly, to prevent the mutual irritation from 
 coming to a downright quarrel. It seems to me 
 like throwing the game into the hands of the 
 enemy. ... If a conflict with a handful of 
 slaveholding States is to bring us to [our pre- 
 sent pass] what are we to do when we throw 
 down the glove to all Europe?” In these fur- 
 ther words, in the extract just quoted from his 
 diary, Mr. Adams set forth the whole policy 
 which guided his action at London from the 
 day he arrived to the day he left. During the 
 early and doubtful period of the war it has al- 
 ready been said that Mr. Seward was, in Europe 
 at least, believed to entertain another view of 
 a possible outcome of the situation. That he 
 wished to provoke a foreign war was more than 
 suspected. One great source of Mr. Adams’s 
 diplomatic usefulness lay in the confidence he 
 instinctively inspired by his directness and mani- 
 fest sincerity. In these respects he came at last 
 in Great Britain to be accepted as almost a re- 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 179 
 
 verse of the secretary. What, as respects the 
 foreign policy then to be pursued, lay in Secre- 
 tary Seward’s mind in the spring and early 
 summer — March to July —of 1861? This 
 difficult problem is now to be considered. 
 
 The dispatch just referred to as that num- 
 bered ten, bearing date May 21st, and received 
 by Mr. Adams on June 10th, was certainly a 
 most extraordinary public paper. Its full se- 
 eret history, also, did not come to light until 
 disclosed by Messrs. Nicolay and Hay nearly 
 thirty years after it was written.! It has been 
 seen how it puzzled and dismayed Mr. Adams 
 when he first received it. The fiercely aggres- 
 sive, the well-nigh inconceivable, foreign policy 
 it foreshadowed must, he thought, have been 
 forced on the secretary by the other members 
 of the administration ; but, in fact, though Mr. 
 Adams never knew it, that dispatch, in the 
 form in which it was originally drawn up by 
 the secretary of state and by him submitted to 
 the President, must have been designed to pre- 
 cipitate a foreign war. Moreover, it would in- 
 evitably have brought that result about but for 
 Lincoln’s unseen intervention. The documents 
 speak for themselves. To be read intelligently, 
 
 1 The dispatch, as originally drafted by Secretary Seward, 
 with Lincoln’s interlineations and omissions indicated in it, is 
 printed in full in Nicolay and Hay, iv. 270-275. 
 
180 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 the two dispatches to Mr. Adams of April 27th 
 and May 21st, Nos. 4 and 10, must be read to- 
 gether, and both in connection with the extra- 
 ordinary paper entitled, “Some Thoughts for 
 the President’s Consideration,” already alluded 
 to, handed by Seward to Lincoln on April 1st. 
 In that paper the secretary proposed to the 
 President to take immediate measures calculated 
 to “‘change the question before the [ American] 
 public from one upon slavery, or about slavery, 
 for a question upon union or disunion;” and to 
 that end he recommended that explanations, in 
 regard to their proceedings in the West India 
 Islands and in Mexico, be demanded “ from 
 Spain and France, categorically, at once. I 
 would then,” he went on, “seek explanations 
 from Great Britain and Russia, and send agents 
 into Canada, Mexico, and Central America, to 
 rouse a vigorous continental spirit of independ- 
 ence on this continent against European inter- 
 vention. And if satisfactory explanations are 
 not received from Spain and France, would con- 
 vene Congress and declare war against them.” 
 Of course, if the policy here recommended had 
 been followed, “ satisfactory explanations ” from 
 the powers addressed would, under the circum- 
 stances, have been neither expected nor desired. 
 War was intended. ji 
 
 The conception of a foreign policy of this 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 181 
 
 character, at such a time, or at any time, seems 
 so unstatesmanlike, so immoral, from any ra- 
 tional point of view so impossible, that for a 
 public man occupying a responsible position 
 merely to have entertained it, subsequently dis- 
 credits him. Yet that Secretary Seward did 
 entertain it, long and seriously, in the spring of 
 1861, and moreover that he abandoned it slowly, 
 and only in the presence of facts impossible to 
 ignore, cannot be gainsaid. This is matter of 
 record. That Mr. Seward was, a statesman, 
 astute, far-seeing and sagacious, with a strong 
 grasp on facts and underlying principles, is 
 hardly less matter of record. The thing cannot, 
 therefore, be dismissed as an incomprehensible 
 historical riddle, —a species of insoluble co- 
 nundrum. It calls for explanation ; and any ex- 
 planation offered must be at least plausible. 
 Into the cabinet situation, as it then existed, 
 it is not necessary here to enter in detail. It 
 was undoubtedly more than trying. Seen in the 
 light of subsequent events, it is assumed that 
 the Lincoln of 1865 was also the Lincoln of 
 1861. Historically speaking there can be no 
 greater error; the President, who has since be- 
 come a species of legend, was in March, 1861, 
 an absolutely unknown, and by no means pro- 
 mising, political quantity. During the years in- 
 tervening between 1861 and 1865 the man de- 
 
182 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 veloped immensely ; he became in fact another 
 being. History, indeed, hardly presents an anal- 
 ogous case of education through trial. None the 
 less the fact remains that when he first entered 
 upon his high functions, President Lincoln filled 
 with dismay those brought in contact with him. 
 Without experience, he evinced no sense of the 
 gravity of the situation or of the necessity of a 
 well-considered policy. The division of offices 
 among eager applicants seemed to engross his 
 thoughts. The evidence is sufficient and con- 
 clusive that, in this respect, he impressed others 
 as he impressed Mr. Adams in their one char- 
 acteristic interview. Thus an utter absence of 
 lead in presence of a danger at once great and 
 imminent, expressed the situation. 
 
 There is every reason to believe that in those 
 early days of their association, Seward, as the 
 result of close personal contact and observation, 
 shared in the common estimate of his official 
 chief. Certainly, close as were his personal re- 
 lations with Mr. Adams, preserving a discreet 
 silence as respects his official chief, the secretary 
 let no intimation escape him that, in the case 
 of the President, appearances were deceptive. 
 There can, also, be no question that Secretary 
 Seward, when he entered upon his duties in 
 the Department of State, did so with the idea 
 that he would prove to be the virtual head of 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 183 
 
 the government, — its directing mind. The 
 early course of events in the cabinet was not 
 what he anticipated. A highly incongruous 
 body, hastily brought together, no member of it 
 saw his way clearly, and differences immediately 
 developed. Without a head, it seemed to have 
 no prospect of having a head. In the direction 
 of its councils, the secretary of state became 
 day by day conscious of the fact that he was 
 losing ground, and it was more and more mani- 
 fest to him that a line of policy.almost sure to 
 precipitate a civil war was likely soon to be 
 adopted. The tension was too great to last; 
 unless a new direction was given to the rapid 
 course of events there must be a break. Plainly, 
 something had to be done. 
 
 Governor Seward, moreover, had all along 
 asserted with the utmost confidence that no 
 serious trouble would ensue from the change of 
 administration ; that the South was not in ear- 
 nest. A civil war was no part of his programme. 
 Yet now he found the country confronted with 
 it; and he himself was no longer held in high, 
 if indeed in any, esteem as a political prophet. 
 
 When, immediately before the inauguration, 
 Mr. Seward tendered his resignation of the first 
 place in the cabinet, the incoming President, 
 after brief consideration, declined to accept it, 
 characteristically observing that he “could not 
 
184 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 afford to let Seward take the first trick.” Fol- 
 lowing out this not over-dignified figure of 
 speech, it may be said that now, a month after 
 the change of administration had taken place, 
 Mr. Seward, in the course of the game, found 
 himself “put to his trumps.” Under these cir- 
 cumstances he seems to have rapidly matured a 
 policy which he had long been meditating, —a 
 policy reserved as a last resort. Falling back 
 on what was with him a cardinal point of politi- 
 cal faith, an almost inordinate belief in the sen- 
 timental side of the American character, — its 
 patriotism and its spirit of nationality, its self- 
 confidence when aroused, — falling back on this, 
 he thought to work from it as a basis of action. 
 It was no new or sudden conception. On the 
 contrary, months before, at the dinner of the 
 New England Society in New York, during the 
 previous December, referring to the secession of 
 South Carolina which had then just been an- 
 nounced, he declared that if New York should 
 be attacked by any foreign power, “all the hills 
 of South Carolina would pour forth their popu- 
 lation to the rescue.” And two years and a half 
 later, during the foreign crisis of the war, in 
 precisely the same spirit he wrote to Sumner: 
 *‘ Rouse the nationality of the American people. 
 It is an instinct upon which you can always 
 rely, even when the conscience that ought never 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 185 
 
 to slumber is drugged to death.” Accordingly 
 in March, 1861, he only repeated what he had 
 written in his dispatches to Mr. Adams when 
 he said to Dr. Russell, of the “Times,” that 
 if a majority of the people in the seceded 
 States really desired secession, he would let 
 them have it; but he could not believe in 
 anything so monstrous. Convinced, therefore, 
 that the South was possessed by a passing mania, 
 he was himself a victim of the delusion that, by 
 a bold and unmistakable appeal-to a sentiment 
 of a yet deeper and more permanent character, 
 the evil spirit then in temporary possession 
 might be exorcised; or, as he a few months be- 
 fore had in the Senate expressed it, citing J effer- 
 son as his authority, the “States must be kept 
 within their constitutional sphere by impulsion, 
 if they could not be held there by attraction.” 
 This idea others shared with him, and it found 
 frequent expression: but in his case, during 
 April, May, and June, 1861, it amounted to 
 what was almost a dangerous hallucination ; for 
 he was secretary of state. 
 
 In itself a morbid conception, the thought was 
 further strengthened by another belief enter- 
 tained by him as to the existence of a latent, 
 but widespread, Union sentiment at the South, 
 requiring only a sufficient stimulus to assert it- 
 self and set everything right. This last article 
 
186 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 of faith was immediately due to the great num- 
 ber of appealing letters which, after the elec- 
 tion and before the inauguration of Lincoln, had 
 poured in upon him in steady volume from the 
 South in general, but more particularly from the 
 border slave States. While he probably con- 
 strued their contents liberally, to these he at 
 the time made continual reference; and now he 
 thought to use the sentiment revealed in them 
 as the basis of a great educational movement. 
 It was the material on which he proposed to 
 work, 
 
 The real condition of public opinion at the 
 South, and the amount of Union sentiment there 
 latent, was, of course, in the spring of 1861, a 
 question of fact in regard to which men’s judg- 
 ment varied according to their means of infor- 
 mation and warmth of temperament. In reality, 
 as Dr. Russell soon afterwards found out and 
 advised Europe through the “ Times,” and as 
 Seward himself later had to realize, those dwelling 
 in the great region afterwards known as the 
 Confederate States were of one mind. In that 
 region, even as early as May, 1861, there was no 
 Union sentiment; or, as Russell, while visiting 
 the Confederacy in April, wrote to the “Times”: | 
 “ Assuredly Mr. Seward cannot know anything 
 of the South, or he would not be so confident 
 that all would blow over.” In point of fact, at 
 
\ 
 SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 187 
 
 the very time Mr. Seward was conjuring up this 
 widespread, latent Union sentiment in the South, 
 the life of any man in the South even suspected 
 of Union sentiments would not have been safe. 
 But in the spring of 1861 a mistaken belief on 
 the subject was not confined to Mr. Seward. 
 Cassius M. Clay, for instance, came from Ken-— 
 tucky, a slave State. Having all his life lived 
 there, his means of information would be sup- 
 posed to have been good, and his judgment pre- 
 sumably correct. Yet so late as May 29, 1861, 
 six weeks after the fall of Sumter, Cassius M. 
 Clay, then on his way to represent the United 
 States at St. Petersburg, asserted in a communi- 
 cation printed in the London ‘“ Times” of May 
 25th, that “the population of the slave States 
 is divided perhaps equally for and against the 
 Union.” More extraordinary yet, weeks later, 
 in his message to Congress when it met on July 
 4, 1861, President Lincoln put himself on 
 record to the same effect. “It may well be 
 questioned,” he then said, “‘ whether there is to- 
 day the majority of the legally qualified voters 
 of any State, except, perhaps, South Carolina, 
 in favor of disunion. There is much reason to 
 believe that the Union men are the majority in 
 many, if not in every other one, of the so-called 
 seceded States.” Mr. Seward was not alone in 
 his hallucination. 
 
188 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 In like manner, on the other point, — the ef- 
 fect of a foreign war as a diversion, — the Amer- 
 ican correspondent of the “ Times,” —not Dr. 
 Russell, — wrote as follows on May 21st, the 
 very date of Seward’s dispatch No. 10 which 
 so dismayed Mr. Adams:— ‘There are those 
 here, high in influence too, who are actively 
 aiming to create a cold feeling between Eng- 
 land and the United States, under the belief 
 that that will more effectually reconcile North 
 and South than anything else. They argue that 
 the presence of a foreign foe alone can recon- 
 cile the disintegrated States, and they would 
 court a foreign war rather than a civil one. 
 Strange as it may sound, impracticable as it 
 may appear, I assure you that such ideas are 
 entertained and acted upon in New York.” The 
 prevalence of this idea was also well known in 
 England, and, on the 15th of June, William E. 
 Forster, the stanchest friend America had, de- 
 fended to Mr. Adams the action of the British 
 government in sending out troops to Canada 
 “by attributing to our government a desire to 
 pick a quarrel with this country in the hopes of 
 effecting by means of it a reunion.” 
 
 The letter containing the extract just quoted 
 from the *‘ Times ” was written from New York, 
 and the feeling in it referred to may not im- 
 possibly have been inspired by the secretary of 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 189 
 
 state. A politician’s newspaper feeler, thus re- 
 flecting the dispatch of May 21st. In any event 
 the presence of such an idea in Seward’s mind 
 at that juncture was plainly a grave additional 
 source of national peril, and it would be inter- 
 esting to trace the manifestations of it. These, 
 however, though numerous and unequivocal, are 
 scattered through the press and in official and 
 other publications, and would be inappropriate 
 here. ‘The essence of them, moreover, was con- 
 densed in a single remark to Dr. Russell, made 
 by the secretary in course of conversation on 
 April 4th: “ Any attempt against us” by a for- 
 eign power, Mr. Seward then said,“ would re- 
 volt the good men of the South, and arm all 
 men in the North to defend their government.” 
 
 The policy thus assuming shape in the sec- 
 retary’s mind was large, vague, visionary. To 
 avert the impending issue, he would, as distinctly 
 shadowed forth in his dispatch of May 21st, chal- 
 lenge a yet greaterissue. Confidently appealing 
 to the spirit of Americanism and of the age, to 
 liberty, democracy, and the aspirations of the 
 century, he was prepared to precipitate a gen- 
 eral war, not unlike that of the Napoleonic pe- 
 riod, fully confident that the United States 
 would emerge from it victorious, purified, and 
 more than ever consolidated. A great concep- 
 tion, it was also a trifle Corsican ; and, though an 
 
190 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 able man, Mr. Seward was essentially a New 
 Yorker, and not a Napoleon Bonaparte. Under 
 the circumstances, therefore, it must be con- 
 ceded that the scheme had in it elements not 
 consistent with what is commonly known as 
 sanity of judgment. 
 
 Recurring to the course of events at Wash- 
 ington and in London, a considerable interval 
 elapsed between the two days, close together, on 
 which Seward handed to Lincoln his memoran- 
 dum of “ Thoughts ” and had the conversation 
 just referred to with Dr. Russell, and that other 
 day on which he wrote the bellicose dispatch 
 No. 10 to Mr. Adams. The dates were seven 
 weeks apart. In the interval the situation had 
 altogether changed. Fort Sumter had fallen ; 
 the President’s Proclamation had been issued ; 
 Virginia and Tennessee had seceded. Another 
 dispatch also had reached the secretary from 
 Mr. Dallas announcing the arrival in Europe of 
 the Confederate Commissioners, and that Earl 
 Russell was disposed to accord them an “ unof- 
 ficial’ interview. This very contingency had 
 been anticipated by Mr. Seward in a dinner- 
 table talk, at which Dr. Russell was present, be- 
 fore April Ist. He had then declared that “ the 
 Southern Commissioners could not be received 
 by the government of any foreign power, offi- 
 cially or otherwise, even to hand in a document 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 191 
 
 or to make a representation, without incurring 
 the risk of breaking off relations with the gov- 
 ernment of the United States.” 
 
 When he made this remark Mr. Seward must 
 have been meditating his memorandum of 
 “Thoughts for the President’s Consideration.” 
 Four days later he handed it to Mr. Lincoln. 
 The latter’s considerate method of dealing with 
 that document, proposing, as it did, his abdica- 
 tion of the functions of his office, and “two or 
 more”’ foreign wars as a possible substitute for 
 one domestic, is matter of history. He quietly 
 put it aside. None the less, Secretary Seward 
 evidently did not at once abandon the scheme 
 therein outlined. He apparently still believed 
 in it as a practical recourse, so to speak, — the 
 last and largest trump card in the hand; and, a 
 few weeks later, he seems to have concluded that 
 the time to play it had come. Accordingly he 
 now prepared the dispatch of May 21st, No. 10. 
 Directing Mr. Adams in certain contingencies 
 then sure to occur to confine himself ‘ simply 
 to a delivery of a copy of this paper to the sec- 
 retary of state,’ he in it used language to 
 which no self-respecting government could sub- 
 mit, —language so indecorous and threatening 
 as to be tantamount to a declaration of war. 
 If, he announced, Great Britain shall recognize 
 the bearers of Confederate letters of marque as 
 
192 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 belligerents, and give them shelter from our 
 pursuit and punishment, “the laws of nations 
 afford an adequate and proper remedy, and we 
 shall avail ourselves of it. . . . When this act 
 of intervention is distinctly performed, we from 
 that hour shall cease to be friends and become 
 once more, as we have twice before been forced 
 to be, enemies of Great Britain. . . . We are not 
 insensible of the grave importance of this occa- 
 sion. We see how, upon the result of the debate 
 in which we are engaged, a war may ensue be- 
 tween the United States, and one, two, or even 
 more Kuropean nations. . . . A war not unlike 
 it between the same parties occurred at the close 
 of the last century. Europe atoned by forty 
 years of suffering for the error that Great Britain 
 committed in provoking that contest. If that 
 nation shall now repeat the same great error the 
 social convulsions which will follow may not be 
 so long but they will be more general. When 
 they shall have ceased it will, we think, be seen, 
 whatever may have been the fortunes of other 
 nations, that it is not the United States that 
 will have come out of them with its precious 
 Constitution altered or its honestly obtained do- 
 minion in any degree abridged.” 1 
 
 1The wrap-the-world-in-flames hallucination seems to have 
 degenerated into something very like a formula in Mr. Sew- 
 ard’s speech during the earlier Rebellion period. On the 4th 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 193 
 
 It is not difficult to imagine what would have 
 been the effect of a dispatch couched in these 
 terms delivered in June, 1861, to a British gov- 
 ernment of which Lord Palmerston was the 
 head, with England then acting in full under- 
 standing with France. The Confederacy would 
 have been recognized, and the blockade of its 
 coast, at that time hardly more than nominal, 
 would have been disallowed almost before the 
 American minister had rattled out of Downing 
 Street. Thus, as originally drawn up, this ex- 
 traordinary paper of May 21st was nothing 
 more nor less than a definite commitment of the 
 United States to the policy outlined by Seward 
 in the “ Thoughts”’ of the first of the previous 
 April, — “I would demand explanations from 
 
 of July Russell of the Times had a talk with him at the 
 State Department. In the course of it, six weeks after writ- 
 ing the dispatch of May 21st, the Secretary said : — “ We have 
 less to fear from a foreign war than any country in the world. 
 If any European power provokes a war, we shall not shrink 
 from it. A contest between Great Britain and the United 
 States would wrap the world in fire, and at the end it would 
 not be the United States which would have to lament the 
 result of the conflict.” (My Diary, 381.) More than six 
 months later, January 22, 1862, he wrote to Thurlow Weed : — 
 “ Nevertheless, I do know this, that whatever nation makes 
 war against us, or forces itself into a war, will find out that we 
 can and shall suppress rebellion and defeat invaders besides. 
 The courage and the determination of the American people 
 are aroused for any needful effort — any national sacrifice.” 
 
 (Life of Weed, ii. 410.) 
 
194 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Spain and France, categorically, at once. I 
 would seek explanations from Great Britain and 
 Russia, . . . and, if satisfactory explanations 
 are not received, . . . would convene Congress 
 and declare war against them.” Fortunately the 
 memorandum of * Thoughts,” of April Ist, had 
 forewarned Mr. Lincoln, and the influence of the 
 earlier paper was immediately apparent in his 
 treatment of the paper of May 21st, now sub- 
 mitted. “It was Mr. Seward’s ordinary habit 
 personally to read his dispatches to the President 
 before sending them. Mr. Lincoln, detecting 
 the defects of the paper, retained it, and after 
 careful scrutiny made such material corrections 
 and alterations with his own hand as took from 
 it all offensive crudeness without in the least 
 lowering its tone; but, on the contrary, greatly 
 increasing its dignity. . . . When the President 
 returned the manuscript to his hands, Mr. Sew- 
 ard somewhat changed the form of the dispatch 
 by [omitting most of the phrases above quoted 
 and] prefixing to it two short introductory para- 
 graphs in which he embodied, in his own 
 phraseology, the President’s direction that the 
 paper was to be merely a confidential instruc- 
 tion, not to be read or shown to any one.’’! 
 And in this happily modified form it came into 
 the hands of Mr. Adams. A collision between 
 1 Nicolay and Hay, iv. 269, 270. 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 195 
 
 the two countries was thus narrowly, and for the 
 moment avoided! Fortunately, as will presently 
 be seen, Mr. Seward’s views about this time 
 underwent a change. As a result of the battle 
 of Bull Run two months later, he recovered his 
 mental poise, and, quite dismissing the illusion 
 of a latent Union sentiment to be invoked in 
 the South, ceased to look upon a more or less 
 general foreign war as a means of escape, both 
 natural and legitimate, from dissension at home. 
 
 Too much space has, perhaps, been devoted 
 to this bit of secret history. If so, its interest 
 as well as its importance must be a justification. 
 For the United States, it was a piece of supreme 
 good fortune then to have in Great Britain so 
 discreet a representative, unimpulsive and bent 
 on a maintenance of the peace. It would have 
 been very easy at just that juncture to have pro- 
 voked a crisis, which must have been decisive, 
 though, as the result showed, wholly unnecessary. 
 So far as Mr. Adams himself was concerned, no 
 minister of the United States probably ever had 
 so narrow an escape as his then was from a 
 position which could not have been otherwise than 
 humiliating to the last degree. It was, too, at 
 the threshold of a diplomatic life. As to Mr. 
 Seward, it would be useless to philosophize. His 
 management as a whole of the country’s foreign 
 relations during the Rebellion speaks for itself. 
 
196 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 It was a magnificent success. Alone of all the 
 departments of the government, the State De- 
 partment proved from the beginning, and to 
 the end, in every respect equal to the occasion. 
 Carrying things always with a high hand, pre- 
 serving in each emergency a steady and un- 
 broken front, never betraying sign of weakness, 
 or lowering the national dignity, Mr. Seward 
 extricated the country from whatever difficulty 
 it had to encounter; nor were those difficulties 
 few or slight. His success in so doing was so 
 great and so uniform that it seems since to have 
 been almost assumed as of course. Scant jus- 
 tice has accordingly been rendered him to whom 
 it was due ; for, by averting intervention, he saved 
 the day. The single inexplicable, ineradicable 
 blemish upon the record is contained in that in- 
 conceivable memorandum of “ Notes” handed 
 by Secretary Seward to President Lincoln on 
 April 1, 1861, and the dispatches numbered four 
 and ten subsequently prepared for Mr. Adams 
 in obvious pursuance of the mad and indefen- 
 sible policy therein outlined. 
 
 The day following the receipt of this modified 
 dispatch Mr. Adams sought an interview with 
 Lord John. In it he “tried to act up to [his] 
 instructions at the same time that [he] softened 
 as well as [he] could the sharp edges.” For- 
 tunately for him, in a previous interview with 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 197 
 
 Lord John, of which he had already sent a re- 
 port to Washington, he had pressed the foreign 
 secretary quite as far and as hard as circum- 
 stances justified. “In truth,” he had written, 
 “if I were persuaded that Her Majesty’s gov- 
 ernment were really animated by a desire to 
 favor the rebellion, I should demand a categori- 
 eal answer; but thus far I see rather division of 
 Opinion, consequent upon the pressure of the 
 commercial classes.” So he contented himself 
 with the highly significant remark to Lord John, 
 that, if Great Britain entertained any design, 
 more or less marked, to extend the struggle then 
 going on in America, “ I was bound to acknow- 
 ledge in all frankness that, in that contingency, 
 I had nothing further left to do in Great Britain. 
 I said this with regret, as my own feelings had 
 been and were of the most friendly character.” 
 Secretary Seward seems to have been greatly 
 mollified when advised of this intimation; but 
 now Mr. Adams had again to approach a deli- 
 cate subject. Accordingly he proceeded to in- 
 timate “in all frankness” that any further pro- 
 traction of relations, “ unofficial” though they 
 might be, with the ‘“ pseudo -commissioners ” 
 from the Confederate States ‘‘ could scarcely fail 
 to be viewed by us as hostile in spirit, and to 
 require some corresponding action accordingly.” 
 To this diplomatically expressed demand, Lord 
 
198 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 John, after reviewing the course pursued by 
 Great Britain in similar cases, concluded by say- 
 ing that ‘he had seen the gentlemen once some 
 time ago, and once more some time since; he 
 had no expectation of seeing them any more.” 
 Directness in dealing was not thrown away on 
 Lord John Russell. Mr. Adams now scored 
 his first success; Messrs. Yancey, Rost, and 
 Mann were not again received at the foreign 
 office. On their side, the commissioners reported 
 to their government that “ the relations between 
 Mr. Adams and the British cabinet are not en- 
 tirely amicable and satisfactory to either, and, 
 both in his diplomatic and social relations, Mr. 
 Adams is held a blunderer.” Mrs. Jefferson 
 Davis took later a different and more practical 
 view of the matter, remarking in her life of 
 her husband: ‘The astute and watchful ambas- 
 sador from the United States had thus far fore- 
 stalled every effort, and our commissioners were 
 refused interviews with Her Majesty’s minister.” 
 Mr. Yancey, thinking the concession of Lord 
 John to Mr. Adams’s demand was in violation of 
 the rule of neutrality, to which the British gov- 
 ernment had pledged itself, urged his brother 
 commissioners to respond to Lord John’s notice 
 of suspension of interviews by a firm though 
 moderate protest. But Messrs. Rost and Mann 
 objecting to this course, the matter was referred 
 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 199 
 
 to the Richmond government; nor was it again 
 heard of. The commissioners were presently 
 (September 23d) superseded in their functions, 
 so far as Great Britain was concerned, by the 
 appointment of James M. Mason as the Con 
 federate representative in that country. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 THE TREATY OF PARIS 
 
 Tue so-called Declaration of Paris was an 
 outcome of the Crimean war. Up to the time 
 of that struggle the semi-barbarous rules of in- 
 ternational law which, during the Napoleonic 
 period, had been ruthlessly enforced by all bel- 
 ligerents, were still recognized, though in abey- 
 ance. As an historical fact, it was undeniable 
 that, on the high seas, piracy was the natural 
 condition of man; and, when the artificial state 
 of peace ceased, into that condition nations re- 
 lapsed. To ameliorate this, Great Britain and 
 France, on the outbreak of the war with Russia, 
 agreed to respect neutral commerce, whether 
 under their own flags or that of Russia; and, 
 at the close of the war, the Congress of Paris 
 adopted, in April, 1856, a Declaration, embra- 
 cing four heads : — 
 
 1. Privateering is and remains abolished. 
 
 2. The neutral flag covers enemy’s goods, 
 with the exception of contraband of war. 
 
 3. Neutral goods, with the exception of con- 
 traband of war, are not liable to capture under 
 enemy’s flag. 
 
THE TREATY OF PARIS 201 
 
 4, Blockades in order to be binding must be 
 effective; that is to say, maintained by forces 
 sufficient really to prevent access to the coast of 
 the enemy. 
 
 Great Britain, France, Prussia, Russia, Aus- 
 tria, and Turkey adopted this mutual agree- 
 ment, and pledged themselves to make it known 
 to states not represented in the congress, and 
 invite their accession to it, on two conditions : — 
 (1) That the Declaration should be accepted as 
 a whole, or not at all; and (2) That the states 
 acceding should enter into no subsequent ar- 
 rangement on maritime law in time of war 
 without stipulating for a strict observance of 
 the four points. On these conditions every mar- 
 itime power was to be invited to accede, and had 
 the right to become a party to the agreement. 
 Accordingly nearly all the states of Europe and 
 South America in course of time notified their 
 accession, and became, equally with the original 
 members, entitled to all the benefits and subject 
 to the obligations of the compact. 
 
 The government of the United States was 
 also invited to accede, and like the other powers 
 had the right so to do by simple notification. 
 Secretary Marcy informed the French govern- 
 ment, July 28, 1856, that the President could 
 not abandon the right to use privateers, unless 
 he could secure the exemption of all private 
 
202 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 property, not contraband, from capture at sea; 
 but with that amendment the United States 
 would accede to the Declaration. 
 
 In other words, in addition to the points agreed 
 on at Paris, the United States contended for 
 the establishment of the same principle on the 
 sea that obtained on land, to wit : — the exemp- 
 tion from capture of all private property, not 
 contraband of war, including ships. The last 
 great vestige of the earlier times of normal 
 piracy was, by general consent, to be relegated 
 to the past. With the exception of Great Brit- 
 ain, the more considerable European maritime 
 powers made no objection to the Marcy amend- 
 ment. Great Britain was understood to oppose 
 it, for obvious reasons connected with her past 
 history and present naval preponderance. 
 
 President Buchanan’s was essentially an 
 “Ostend manifesto,” or filibuster, administra- 
 tion. When Lincoln succeeded Buchanan the 
 aspect of affairs from the United States point of 
 view had undergone a dramatic change. Threat- 
 ened with Confederate letters of marque, the 
 government also found itself engaged in, and 
 responsible for, a blockade of the first magni- 
 tude. Under such circumstances, it was plainly 
 impossible to forecast all the contingencies which 
 might arise, and it was altogether dubious what 
 policy might prove to be the more expedient; 
 
THE TREATY OF PARIS 203 
 
 but, on the whole, it seemed to the adminis- 
 tration wisest to endeavor to conciliate Europe. 
 A circular dispatch from the Department of 
 State was sent out accordingly, bearing date 
 April 24th. By it the ministers of the United 
 States were formally instructed to ascertain the 
 disposition of the various governments to which 
 they were accredited; and, if they found such 
 governments favorably disposed, to enter into 
 a convention, under the terms of which the 
 United States became a party to the Paris 
 compact. This dispatch, it will be observed, 
 was prepared and sent out after the fall of Sum- 
 ter, and the consequent proclamation of Lincoln 
 and letter-of-marque notification of Jefferson 
 Davis. In view of the widely spread suspicions 
 entertained respecting the methods of the Amer- 
 ican secretary of state, the move was one calcu- 
 lated to excite a not altogether unnatural dis- 
 trust in the minds of diplomats and European 
 statesmen; a distrust which would not have 
 been allayed had they been acquainted with the 
 tenor of the memorandum of “ Notes for the 
 President’s Consideration”? submitted to Mr. 
 Lincoln by that secretary some three weeks pre- 
 vious. 
 
 Mr. Adams next found himself engaged in a 
 long, and what he at the time accurately de- 
 scribed asa “ singular,” negotiation on this sub- 
 
204. CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ject, into the details of which it is impossible 
 here to enter. It is sufficient to say that it 
 was marked on the part of the British govern- 
 ment by evasions, procrastinations, and vacil- 
 lations by no means creditable. In fact, as the 
 interviews followed each other, “the singular 
 divergencies of recollections as to facts’’ became 
 so pronounced, that Mr. Adams recorded a frank 
 admission that “the whole conduct of the admin- 
 istration here is inexplicable ;” and, at last, re- 
 lieved himself by declaring (to himself) that it 
 was ‘difficult to suppress indignation at the 
 miserable shuffling practiced throughout.” In 
 his opinion at the time all this was attributable 
 to the secret machinations of the Premier: but 
 the real explanation was that Lord John Rus- 
 sell, distrustful of the good faith and ulterior 
 purposes of the Washington government, was 
 afraid of being unwarily entrapped into a posi- 
 tion which would in some way compromise him 
 with respect to those responsible for depreda- 
 tions under Confederate letters of marque. The 
 British government, though it had conferred 
 rights of belligerency on the Confederacy, might 
 be called on to treat as pirates those sailing 
 under the Confederate colors. Again, like all 
 European diplomats, Lord John, or Earl Rus- 
 sell, as he now became, looked upon the early 
 recognition of the Confederacy as inevitable. 
 
THE TREATY OF PARIS 205 
 
 But, as events developed while the negotiation 
 went on, recognition might well involve an 
 armed intervention. In case of hostilities, the 
 interests of Great Britain, as respects the four 
 principles of the Treaty of Paris, were not alto- 
 gether clear. The mercantile marine of the 
 United States had then grown rapidly. <A free 
 hand towards it might be a good thing. 
 
 Whatever may have been Mr. Seward’s ob- 
 jects in originally proposing the adhesion of the 
 United States to the Paris compact at that par- 
 ticular juncture, there can be little doubt that, as 
 the negotiation progressed, he became sincerely 
 interested in it. As to Mr. Adams, after ma- 
 ture deliberation, he made up his mind, much to 
 the discomposure of some of the representatives 
 of the United States at other courts, that the 
 articles of the Declaration were “ sound in prin- 
 ciple, and that the party coming in on the basis 
 of liberal ideas [like the new party in Amer- 
 ica] would commit itself very badly if it should 
 turn its back on them.” He proceeded accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 At first the British and French secretaries 
 endeavored to have the negotiation transferred 
 to Washington, there to be carried on by the 
 representatives of the two governments, acting 
 in unison. This dangerous move Mr. Seward 
 most adroitly checked ; and the matter was sent 
 
206 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 back to Europe. Mr. Adams then took it up 
 with Earl Russell ; but it soon became apparent 
 that the latter was more intent on the course of 
 events in America than on the business in hand. 
 Hence resulted strange misunderstandings and 
 ‘“‘divergencies of recollection”; but little pro- 
 gress towards a result. The real trouble was at 
 Washington, whence Lord Lyons was writing to 
 Earl Russell cautioning him against permitting 
 anything to be done without an explicit under- 
 standing as to “the effect which [the acceptance 
 of the Declaration by the American government 
 was | intended by them to have with regard to 
 the seceded States.”” Puzzled, and a little irri- 
 tated, by Earl Russell’s parleys and procrasti- 
 nations, Mr. Adams at last determined to force 
 an issue; so, acting under instructions from 
 Washington, he notified Earl Russell of the 
 wish of the United States to accede to the prin- 
 ciples of the Treaty of Paris in their entirety, 
 “pure and simple.” This, under the terms of 
 the Treaty entitling other countries to become 
 parties to it merely on notice, would have ended 
 the matter in the case of any country other than 
 the United States ; but, in the case of the United 
 States, the compact, being with foreign powers, 
 was in the nature of a treaty, and as such had 
 to be submitted to the Senate for approval. To 
 meet this constitutional difficulty, the notice 
 
THE TREATY OF PARIS 207 
 
 of adhesion had to take the form of a conven- 
 tion; and a form of such a convention Mr. 
 Adams submitted. Had Earl Russell been a 
 statesman of the first class, as quick-witted as he 
 was far-seeing, he would now, overlooking all im- 
 mediate and petty considerations, have seized the 
 opportunity, and committed the United States, 
 once for all, to the new principles of belligerency. 
 Immediate complications might have grown out 
 of the American civil war, and those he could 
 in some way have met as they presented them- 
 selves; but, so far as the larger and more re- 
 mote interests of Great Britain were concerned, 
 the case was clear, and he had the game in his 
 hands. The adhesion of the United States to the 
 new principles would be a great point gained. 
 Earl Russell was not equal to the occasion. 
 Instead of meeting Mr. Adams squarely, he 
 now had recourse to methods crab-like in the 
 extreme. He asked for a clause to be inserted 
 in the convention, expressly providing that it 
 should have no bearing “ direct or indirect on 
 the internal difficulties now prevailing in the 
 United States.” Mr. Adams, of course, then 
 closed the negotiation; and, much to the sub- 
 sequent embarrassment of Great Britain on sev- 
 eral occasions, the United States has never yet 
 become a party to the Declaration of Paris. 
 That Mr. Adams erred at the time in attribu- 
 
208 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ting the course of Earl Russell to the secret 
 promptings of Lord Palmerston, has already 
 been intimated. It was unquestionably due to 
 the misgivings of Lord Lyons, prompted by his 
 confirmed distrust of Mr. Seward; and to an 
 inability on the part of the British foreign sec- 
 retary himself to understand the real significance 
 of events then taking place in America. 
 
 Thus ended the first of the long succession of 
 diplomatic struggles between Lord Russell and 
 Mr. Adams. In itself it resulted in nothing ; 
 but not for that was it unfruitful of conse- 
 quences. The British minister could not but 
 have felt, as he emerged from it, that he had 
 been driven into an equivocal position. His 
 language was on this point silently significant. 
 The directness of his adversary, moreover, ap- 
 pealed to him ; for in Parliament he had been 
 through a lifetime accustomed to give and re- 
 ceive blows, and he liked a straightforward, hard- 
 hitting opponent. When Mr. Adams reached 
 London Lord John, so far as the Foreign 
 Office was concerned, had fixed his position 
 as the representative of half an empire, and he 
 had proposed to hold Mr. Adams in the posi- 
 tion thus in advance assigned to him. He was 
 fast finding the task more difficult than he had 
 supposed it would be. So he ever grew more 
 cautious, and more wary of his opponent. Mean- 
 
THE TREATY OF PARIS 209 
 
 while Mr. Adams, though disappointed and 
 puzzled, had kept his temper and carried his 
 point ; but, so far as the assumed friendliness 
 of Earl Russell to the United States was con- 
 cerned, the scales had fallen from his eyes. His 
 faith in the straightforwardness of any portion 
 of the Palmerston-Russell ministry was gone. 
 He had only himself, and the shifting fortunes 
 of war, to rely on in future; and, so far as the 
 latter were concerned, the recent experiences at 
 Bull Run, though fresh in memory, were the re- 
 verse of assuring. The autumn of 1861 was 
 not a cheerful period in the rooms of the Amer- 
 ican legation at London. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 THE TRENT AFFAIR 
 
 Durine the month of November especially 
 events of importance followed one close upon 
 another. The plot thickened fast. On the 8th 
 of that month the Confederate defenses at Port 
 Royal, in South Carolina, were captured by a 
 combined naval and military expedition sent out 
 for that purpose; and on the 19th the Con- 
 federate steamer Nashville gave notice to the 
 world, dramatically enough, that the flag of the 
 Confederacy was on the ocean, by capturing in 
 the British Channel the American merchant ves- 
 sel Harvey Birch, and burning her within sight 
 of the English and French shores. Greatly an- 
 noyed by this last incident, Mr. Adams in his 
 diary admitted that, in his exultation over the 
 news from Port Royal, very distinct “ trem- 
 blings”’ were perceptible as to what tidings 
 of another nature might be in store for him. 
 His apprehensions, though undefined, were pro- 
 phetic. On the very day upon which General 
 Sherman was occupying the hastily abandoned 
 works at Hilton Head, Captain Wilkes, in com- 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 211 
 
 mand of the United States steam sloop-of-war 
 San Jacinto, some five hundred miles to the 
 south and west, was bringing-to the British steam- 
 packet Trent, then on the high seas, bound from 
 Havana, a Spanish harbor, to the island of St. 
 Thomas. He then forcibly took from her Messrs. 
 Mason and Slidell, two accredited Confederate 
 emissaries, — passengers on their way from one 
 foreign port to another. It is curious to look 
 back on this performance from the standpoint of 
 forty years later; for, though the over zealous 
 naval officer is proverbially the international 
 enfant terrible, it is questionable whether in 
 modern times any naval officer has ever been 
 guilty of a more ill-considered and thoroughly 
 unjustifiable proceeding. Yet, at the moment, 
 it made of Captain Wilkes a hero and popular 
 idol throughout the loyal States of the Union; 
 while for a brief space of time, without possi- 
 bility of any advantage to be derived therefrom, 
 it caused the issue of the struggle for national 
 existence to tremble on the verge of irre- 
 trievable disaster. Already in a most excitable 
 mood, the occurrence fairly swept the Ameri- 
 ean people off their feet. The entire commu- 
 nity was dissolved into a declaiming, hysterical 
 mob, wholly forgetful of the national conten- 
 tions through seventy years; a mob to which 
 high officials, grave magistrates, and counsel 
 
 
 
212 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 who professed to be learned in the law, vied 
 with each other in ill-considered utterances, as 
 if eager to get themselves into positions from 
 which extrication would be at best extremely 
 difficult. They certainly accomplished that re- 
 sult with marked success. 
 
 That the high-handed proceeding of Captain 
 Wilkes was altogether unjustifiable, no Ameri- 
 ean will now deny. That it was in manifest vio- 
 lation of the principles of international law for 
 which the United States had from the beginning 
 stoutly contended, was admitted at the time. 
 That, after 1815, the United States, the case 
 being reversed, would before the Trent affair, 
 at the moment of it, or at any time since, have 
 submitted to similar treatment, no one would 
 even suggest. But the really singular feature 
 of the situation is the utter absence of common 
 sense and business judgment apparent in the 
 national estimate at the time of any advantage 
 to be gained through Captain Wilkes’s act, as 
 offset by the risks thereby incurred. Messrs. 
 Mason and Slidell, as the event afterwards 
 showed, were not magicians, or in any way 
 more potential for harm than Messrs. Yancey, 
 Rost, and Mann, already for months at work 
 in Europe. Yet at the moment throughout the 
 loyal States it was by every one assumed as in- 
 disputable that some great advantage had been 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 213 
 
 secured for the cause of the Union, — some awful 
 peril averted, — when a certain dull-witted Vir- 
 ginian and a certain acute, intriguing Louisian- 
 ian were prevented from getting across the 
 Atlantic. So far as any increased danger, likely 
 to result from their presence in London or Paris, 
 was involved, they might perfectly well, as was 
 subsequently seen, have been given their pass- 
 ports through New York, and contemptuously 
 had their passages on a Cunarder paid to Liver- 
 pool. Nor, curiously enough, was this hallu- 
 cination over the importance of two insignificant 
 individuals confined to those who secured forci- 
 ble possession of their persons. They absolutely 
 shared it themselves. They were on their way 
 across the Atlantic commissioned to embroil the 
 United States with the two great maritime pow- 
 ers of Europe, if they could; and now, by an 
 almost miraculous interposition due to luck and 
 indiscretion combined, the object of their mis- 
 sion was, at its very threshold, being accom- 
 plished through them to an extent they could 
 in their wildest imaginings never have ventured 
 to hope. James M. Mason was a coarse, unin- 
 telligent man, and that his sodden brain should 
 not instantly have taken in the significance of 
 what was going on is perhaps no occasion for 
 surprise. Not so John Slidell. His head was 
 clear ; his mind alert and logical. Greatly ad- 
 
214 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 dicted to games of chance, he was quick to catch 
 the bearing of men’s thoughts and acts. It is 
 hard to believe that his heart at least did not 
 swell with secret exultation when, forced over 
 the side of the Trent, he felt that his antagonist 
 was playing his hand for him as he never could 
 have played it himself. Yet the evidence is all 
 the other way. Even Slidell seems to have 
 labored under the well-nigh inconceivable men- 
 tal delusion that he could be of greater service 
 to the Confederacy in Paris than within the 
 walls of Fort Warren. At the time the per- 
 formance just failed of being terribly tragic ; 
 looked at now, it had in it many elements of 
 the opera bouffe. But, for some weeks subse- 
 quent to the arrival of the news of the seizure, 
 these latter elements were not conspicuously 
 apparent from the point of view of the United 
 States Legation in London. 
 
 Up to this time, though Mr. Adams studi- 
 ously ignored the fact, his treatment in Eng- 
 land had been the reverse of cordial. Socially, 
 he had been recognized, so to speak; and no- 
 thing more. The sympathies of the aristocracy 
 were distinctly on the side of the slaveocracy of 
 the South, as against the democracy of the 
 North; and this the American minister had 
 been caused to feel with a distinctness almost 
 peculiar to London, where the shades and phases 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 215 
 
 of social coldness and incivility have lorg since 
 been perfected into a science. Fortunately, Mr. 
 Adams, by nature and bearing, was in this re- 
 spect exactly the man the occasion called for. 
 When the Englishman was cold and reserved, 
 Mr. Adams was a little colder and a little more 
 reserved than the Englishman. He thus played 
 well the game to which he found himself called, 
 for the very good reason that the game was 
 natural to him. ; 
 
 The English country season was now come; 
 and, under ordinary circumstances, or at a later 
 period in Mr. Adams’s own residence there, he 
 would have been overwhelmed with invitations 
 to the great houses: but in the autumn of 1861 
 such was far from being the case. A few of- 
 ficials bethought themselves of the American 
 minister and Mrs. Adams; but, as a rule, their 
 company was not desired, for their presence was 
 obviously a restraint on the freedom of conver- 
 sation, then largely made up of ill-natured and 
 hostile, when not contemptuous, references to 
 America and all things American. Among 
 those whose social standing in London was un- 
 questioned, Mr. Richard Monckton Milnes, two 
 years later created Lord Houghton, was one of 
 the very few whose sympathies were throughout 
 strongly enlisted in favor of the United States ; 
 and he, from the beginning, showed a disposi- 
 
216 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 tion to be civil. He had accordingly invited 
 Mr. and Mrs. Adams to Frystone, the Milnes 
 country seat in Nottinghamshire. Thither, little 
 suspecting what tidings the St. Thomas steam- 
 packet, then fast nearing the English coast, was 
 to precipitate upon them, Mr. and Mrs. Adams 
 betook themselves, leaving London on Monday, 
 November 25th. 
 
 As he left the legation Mr. Adams noted that, 
 almost for the first time since he had been in 
 England, the mail from America brought only 
 agreeable news. The party at Frystone Hall 
 was large and pleasant; and the presence of 
 William E. Forster gave evidence of care in its 
 selection, in view of the all absorbing topics of 
 the day. On Wednesday, the 27th, an excursion 
 had been arranged to visit the ruins of Pomfret 
 Castle, famous in English annals as the scene 
 of the murder of Richard II. It was a sodden, 
 dull day of the English November type; and 
 just as the party was entering the ruins, to 
 quote Mr. Adams, “a telegraphic dispatch was 
 put into my hands from [the legation] an- 
 nouncing the startling news that Messrs. Slidell 
 and Mason had been taken by force out of a 
 British steamer in the West Indies by one of 
 our steam frigates. The consequences rose up 
 very vividly in my mind, and prevented me from 
 thinking much of historical associations.” Re- 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 217 
 
 ferring to the incident, Mr. Forster the next 
 day wrote to his wife: “Just as we got into 
 Pomfret Castle, Adams said, in his cool, quiet 
 way, ‘I have got stirring news, which indeed 
 was atelegram with the story.” Mr. Milnes, as 
 well as Mr. Forster, was a good deal impressed 
 by his guest’s composure under such very trying 
 circumstances. The moment he knew the nature 
 of the information contained in the telegram, he 
 naturally at once arranged for Mr. Adams’s re- 
 turn to London. ‘ With characteristic cool- 
 ness,’ as Mr. Reid, Lord Houghton’s biogra- 
 pher, says, “the American minister remained 
 quietly at Frystone,” intimating that London 
 was about the last place to which, under exist- 
 ing conditions, he felt any inclination to go. 
 
 He was entirely right. A more impulsive, 
 less deliberate man would probably have felt 
 either a desire or an obligation to get to his 
 post. In reality, both he and the interests he 
 had in charge were the better for his absence 
 from it. Most fortunately there was then no 
 Atlantic cable. Not for five years yet did one 
 exist. Had there been such a means of instan- 
 taneous communication in 1861, the Trent af- 
 fair could hardly have failed to involve the two 
 nations in war. As it was, it required from 
 sixteen to twenty days to send a message from 
 London to Washington and receive a reply to 
 
218 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 it. Sixteen days as a minimum afford a good 
 deal of time in which a popular craze or senti- 
 mental effervescence may subside; and when 
 those sixteen days are doubled, or trebled, by 
 the necessity of yet further correspondence, 
 there is a very good chance that reason may re- 
 sume its sway. It proved so now. 
 
 When he received his first telegram at Pom- 
 fret Castle, Mr. Adams knew only that he was 
 wholly without information or instructions from 
 Washington for his guidance. The news of the 
 seizure was brought to England by the La Plata. 
 It reached London on November 27th, eighteen 
 days after the event. The San Jacinto, with 
 Messrs. Mason and Slidell on board, made For- 
 tress Monroe on the 15th. The seizure, there- 
 fore, was known in America twelve days before 
 it was known in England. Meanwhile Mr. 
 Adams was in a state of complete ignorance in 
 regard to how it had come about. The natural 
 inference was that Captain Wilkes had acted 
 under instructions. To an ordinary, well-regu- 
 lated intellect, it was hardly conceivable then, 
 as it would not be now, that a naval officer, in 
 command of a ship-of-war on its way home from 
 a distant station, should, out of his own head 
 and acting on newspaper information, venture 
 on such a performance. As Mr. Adams at this 
 _time wrote referring to other experiences he was 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 219 
 
 then undergoing: — ‘These naval officers are 
 bad, when too sluggish, like Marchand; and 
 worse, when too active, like Wilkes.” But if 
 the Wilkes seizure had been directed from 
 Washington, the first and natural conclusion 
 of Mr. Adams would be that it was in further- 
 ance of the aggressive policy outlined in Secre- 
 tary Seward’s dispatches of April 27th and May 
 21st, and that a foreign war was to be pro- 
 voked. Under such circumstances, bewildered 
 as he could not but be at the darkness in which 
 he had been left, the chief thing for a diplomatic 
 agent to guard against was any hasty action or 
 ill-considered utterance. He could safely infer 
 nothing, assume nothing, imagine nothing. He 
 must possess his soul in patience, be enigmati- 
 cal—and wait! The situation, altogether in- 
 explicable, might be trying in the mean while, 
 but the Washington oracle must at last speak. 
 In the mean time, silence. 
 
 It so chanced, however, that the very exigency 
 thus unexpectedly arisen had already been dis- 
 cussed as a possibility by Mr. Adams with no 
 less a person than the Prime Minister himself. 
 The incident was curious and interesting ; be- 
 sides being characteristic of Lord Palmerston, 
 it throws a not unfavorable light on his attitude 
 at that time towards the American struggle. He 
 plainly did not want to have Great Britain in- 
 
220 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 volved in it through any untoward accident. 
 So far from seeking a pretext for quarrel, he 
 was anxious to avoid one. Up to this time, 
 there had been no personal intercourse between 
 Mr. Adams and the Premier. They had both 
 been present, and both had spoken, at the Lord 
 Mayor’s dinner on the 9th of November; and 
 Mr. Adams on that occasion had evidently been 
 somewhat relieved at the tenor of the Prime 
 Minister’s remarks. They were, he wrote, char- 
 acterized by “his customary shrewdness. He 
 touched gently on our difficulties, and at the 
 same time gave it to be clearly understood that 
 there was to be no interference for the sake 
 of cotton.” Three days later, on the 12th of 
 November, Mr. Adams was a good deal sur- 
 prised by receiving “a familiar note” from 
 Lord Palmerston asking him to call at Cam- 
 bridge House, in Piccadilly, the town residence 
 of the latter, and see him at an hour named in 
 the note. Mr. Adams could not imagine why 
 he was thus summoned; but, of course, kept 
 the appointment. ‘“ His reception,” he wrote, 
 ‘was very cordial and frank.” 
 
 Lord Palmerston did not then fully explain 
 his reasons for this unusual interview; in fact 
 they were highly creditable to him. He was 
 going out of his way to give the American min- 
 ister an intimation of possible impending diffi- 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 221 
 
 culty with a view to obviating it. It was then 
 well known that Messrs. Mason and Slidell were 
 on their way to Europe. They were at first 
 supposed to be on the Nashville; but afterwards 
 their arrival at Havana was announced, and 
 it was then correctly assumed that they would 
 sail on the Trent. It was further surmised 
 that the government of the United States had 
 issued orders for intercepting any vessel on 
 which the envoys might take passage, and 
 seizing them. Finally, the James Adger, a 
 United States ship-of-war under command of 
 Captain John B. Marchand, had recently ar- 
 rived on the English coast, and was at South- 
 ampton, the home port of the Nassau steam- 
 packet line. The times were troubled; the 
 circumstances suspicious. Earl Russell submit- 
 ted the facts to the crown lawyers, and had 
 been advised that, under British precedents and 
 past contentions, a United States man-of-war 
 falling in with a British mail-steamer would 
 have the right to board her, open her mail-bags, 
 examine their contents, and, if the steamer 
 should prove liable to confiscation for carrying 
 dispatches from the enemy, put a prize crew on 
 board, and carry her to a port of the United 
 States for adjudication. In that case the law 
 officers thought the captor might, and in their 
 opinion ought to, disembark the passengers on 
 
222 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 the mail-steamer at some convenient port. But, 
 they added, ‘she would have no right to remove 
 Messrs. Mason and Slidell and carry them off as 
 prisoners, leaving the ship to pursue her voy- 
 age.” ! Obviously, if this was the law as deduced 
 from British precedents, a very ugly question 
 was impending, and Her Majesty’s government 
 might find itself in an awkward position. It 
 would require a great many precedents to make 
 palatable the fact of an American man-of-war 
 steaming out of Southampton and _ stopping, 
 searching, and seizing a British mail-packet in 
 the British Channel, and in sight of her home 
 port. So, after reflecting over the situation, 
 Lord Palmerston had concluded that a little 
 friendly talk in time with the American min- 
 ister might be a sensible way of preventing a 
 trouble not less unnecessary than serious. Mr. 
 Adams at once transmitted to Secretary Seward, 
 in a dispatch marked “ confidential,” and never 
 printed, a detailed account of that unofficial 
 talk. While the essential and characteristic 
 portions of it are here given in full, it is only 
 proper to say that liberal allowance should be 
 made in the case of some references to Captain 
 Marchand, who, while in professional alertness 
 not fully up to the ideals of Mr. Adams, was a 
 gallant officer, and subsequently distinguished 
 
 1 Walpole’s Life of Russell, ii. 856, 357. 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 223 
 
 himself under Farragut in the battle of Mobile 
 Bay. There is no reason to suppose that Lord 
 Palmerston spoke by the letter in what he said 
 of him, but he certainly spoke in genuine 
 Palmerstonian fashion. Mr. Adams wrote as 
 follows to Secretary Seward: “He [Palmer- 
 ston] received me in his library all alone, and 
 at once opened on the subject then evidently 
 weighing on his mind. He said that informa- 
 tion had come to him of the late arrival of a 
 United States vessel of war, the James Adger. 
 She had put into one or two places, and finally 
 stopped at Southampton, where she had taken 
 in coal and other supplies. But the day before, 
 his Lordship had understood, the captain had 
 got very drunk on brandy, after which he had 
 dropped down to the mouth of the river as if 
 about to sail on a cruise. The impression was 
 that he had been directed to keep on the watch 
 for the steamer expected to arrive Thursday 
 from the West Indies, in order to take ort of 
 it by force the gentlemen from the Southern 
 States, Messrs. Mason and Slidell, who were 
 presumed to be aboard. Now he was not going 
 into the question of our right to do such an 
 act. Perhaps we might be justified in it, as the 
 steamer was not strictly a public vessel, or per- 
 haps we might not. He would set the argument 
 aside for those whose province it was to discuss 
 
224 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 it. All that he desired to observe was, that such 
 a step would be highly inexpedient in every way 
 he could view it. It would be regarded here 
 very unpleasantly if the captain, after enjoying 
 the hospitality of this country, filling his ship 
 with coals and with other supplies, and filling his 
 own stomach with brandy (and here he laughed 
 in his characteristic way), should, within sight 
 of the shore, commit an act which would be felt 
 as offensive to the national flag. Neither could 
 he see what was the compensating advantage to 
 be gained by it. It surely would not be sup- 
 posed that the addition of one or two more to the 
 number of persons, who had already been some 
 time in London on the same errand, would be 
 likely to produce any change in the policy al- 
 ready adopted. He did not believe that the 
 government would vary its action on that ac- 
 count, be they few or many. He could not 
 therefore conceive of the necessity of resorting 
 to such a measure as this, which, in the present 
 state of opinion in England, could scarcely fail 
 to occasion more prejudice than it would do 
 good.” 
 
 It is not necessary here to give the rest of 
 this interesting but somewhat lengthy dispatch, 
 covering as it did a half hour’s rapid and de- 
 sultory talk. Mr. Adams explained the orders 
 under which Captain Marchand was acting, and 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 225 
 
 told his Lordship that the James Adger had 
 come out looking for the Nashville, and was now 
 watching the Gladiator, and not lying in wait 
 for the Confederate emissaries or a British mail- 
 steamer. As for the Gladiator, then being fitted 
 out to run the blockade with a cargo of arms 
 and munitions for the Confederacy, Mr. Adams 
 frankly told Lord Palmerston that he “ had ad- 
 vised Captain Marchand to keep on the track 
 of her, and, the very first moment he could form 
 a reasonable conviction of her intent to land 
 anywhere in the United States, to snap her up 
 at once.” He wholly disavowed, however, in 
 the case of the James Adger, the existence of 
 any orders from his government of the nature 
 of those taken for granted by Lord Palmerston. 
 This conversation took place on the 15th of 
 November, and the very thing Lord Palmer- 
 ston wished to prevent happening off the harbor 
 of Southampton actually had happened six days 
 before in the Old Bahama channel. It was a 
 mere question of distance: apprehended within 
 forty miles of Southampton, it happened within 
 four thousand. In the absence of definite in- 
 formation to the contrary, the inference was 
 natural, as well as almost irresistible, that the 
 captain of the San Jacinto had acted in pursu- 
 ance of orders such as Lord Palmerston had as- 
 sumed to exist in the case of the James Adger, 
 
226 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 but which Mr. Adams had denied. This was 
 
 the essential point, and the situation was greatly 
 complicated. Captain Wilkes had done just 
 what Mr. Adams had assured the Prime Minis- 
 ter Captain Marchand was not instructed to do, 
 and had no idea of doing. The thing did not 
 have an honest aspect. 
 
 Mr. Adams returned to London with the re- 
 collection of this unfortunate talk very fresh in 
 his mind. It had taken place only a fortnight 
 before. Getting back on the evening -of the 
 28th, the city was in a state of much excite- 
 ment, while in the face and bearing of Lord 
 Russell, from whom he found a summons 
 awaiting him, he noticed “a shade more of 
 gravity, but no ill will.” Mr. Adams could 
 only say to the foreign secretary that he was 
 wholly unadvised both as to the occurrence and 
 the grounds of the action of Captain Wilkes. 
 Nor did Mr. Seward seem in haste to enlighten 
 him ; for ten days later he wrote: ‘The dis- 
 patches came, but not an allusion to the case of 
 the Trent. Mr. Seward’s ways are not those 
 of diplomacy. Here have I been nearly three 
 weeks without positively knowing whether the 
 act of the officer was directed by the govern- 
 ment or not. My private letters made me anx- 
 ious. Strange to relate, the uniform tone is to 
 sustain the action of Captain Wilkes.” On the 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 227 
 
 14th, in the midst of the turmoil, Prince Al- 
 bert died ; a lamentable occurrence, but for the 
 moment it served as a fortunate distraction. 
 Three days later, on the 17th of December, in 
 the midst of the mourning, a dispatch at last 
 came bearing indirectly on the momentous issue. 
 Dated on the 30th of November, fifteen days 
 after the San Jacinto had reached Fortress 
 Monroe, it related mainly to other subjects; 
 but, at its close, the secretary spoke of the 
 seizure of Messrs. Mason and Slidell, referring 
 to it as a “ new incident,’ which was “ to be met 
 and disposed of by the two governments, if pos- 
 sible” in a spirit of mutual forbearance. But 
 it was further significantly intimated that ‘ Cap- 
 tain Wilkes having acted without any instruc- 
 tions from the government, the subject is free 
 from the embarrassment which might have re- 
 sulted if the act had been specially directed by 
 us. I trust,’ the secretary then added, “ that 
 the British government will consider the subject 
 in a friendly temper, and it may expect the best 
 disposition on the part of this government.” 
 Two days later, on the 19th, Mr. Adams went 
 by appointment to the Foreign Office and had a 
 long interview with Earl Russell, in the course 
 of which, after repeating the tenor of the dis- 
 patch, he read it in full, and the two discussed 
 its bearing in a friendly spirit, reaching the con- 
 
228 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 clusion that an adjustment could be arrived at 
 with no great difficulty. The tone of the pa- 
 pers, especially the “‘ Post,” supposed to be the 
 personal organ of Lord Palmerston, was, how- 
 ever, then so bitter and uncompromising that 
 Mr. Adams was especially anxious to ascertain 
 whether in any influential quarters war was 
 intended. He, therefore, pressed his inquiries 
 closely as to the probable action of the gov- 
 ernment in case, the demands of Great Britain 
 not being complied with, Lord Lyons broke off 
 diplomatic relations at Washington. Lord Rus- 
 sell, in reply, intimated that in such event hos- 
 tilities would not necessarily at once ensue. 
 
 One passage in this interview afforded, how- 
 ever, good evidence of the friendly relations 
 which, notwithstanding the unsatisfactory result 
 of the negotiation over the Declaration of Paris, 
 had now come to exist between the minister and 
 the foreign secretary. Referring, as the talk 
 went on, to the precedents in cases similar to 
 that of the Trent, Mr. Adams observed that 
 “the French government had always been very 
 consistent in maintenance of the rights of neu- 
 trals; but,” in quoting Mr. Adams’s language, 
 Lord Russell went on to say, “he added that 
 he could not pay our government the same com- 
 pliment.”’ Meanwhile, in his turn, Mr. Adams 
 reports that, when certain English precedents 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 229 
 
 were cited, Lord Russell quietly observed that 
 *“‘there were many things said and done by them 
 [the English] fifty or sixty years ago, which he 
 might not undertake to enter into the defense 
 of now.” All which things, as Mr. Adams re- 
 marked in reporting the conversation, ‘* were 
 said pleasantly on both sides.” Finally, sum- 
 ming up the grand result of the interview, Mr. 
 Adams wrote, ‘‘On the whole I inferred that 
 his Lordship did not desire war; but that he 
 was likely to be pushed over the precipice by 
 his desire to walk too close to the edge. We 
 talked of the merits of the question very calmly. 
 Finally I took my leave; at the door he said 
 that, if all matters were left between us, he 
 had no doubt we should soon agree; to which 
 I expressed my assent.” 
 
 Strange as it now seems, three entire weeks 
 were yet to elapse before the tension came to an 
 end, and the surrender of the emissaries was 
 announced. During those weeks nothing more 
 was heard in London from the Washington 
 oracle. Nothing, in fact, could very well be 
 heard, inasmuch as, to the oracle itself, the 
 policy the United States might in the end pur- 
 sue was up to the last moment matter of the 
 utmost uncertainty. Into the details of what 
 then took place in President Lincoln’s Cabinet 
 it is not necessary here to enter; but, so far as the 
 
230 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 legation in London was concerned, the outward 
 indications did not favor a peaceful solution of 
 the trouble. The course pursued by the English 
 government at this time has since been criti- 
 cised,! and it has been claimed that the tenor of 
 the dispatch of November 30th and of the in- 
 terview between Earl Russell and Mr. Adams 
 was carefully concealed from the British public, 
 lest the assurance of a willingness in Washing- 
 ton to settle the question in a peaceable manner 
 would destroy the warlike enthusiasm which 
 then pervaded the British islands. Indeed the 
 *“* Post,” on the 21st of December, published a 
 formal contradiction, supposed everywhere to be 
 inspired, of a rumor which at once got in circula- 
 tion, of the conversation of December 19th. In 
 view of the revelations since made of the debate 
 then going on in the Cabinet at Washington 
 this criticism can hardly be accepted as sound. 
 It is now known that the course the United 
 States was to pursue long trembled in the bal- 
 ance. Members of the Cabinet, as of both 
 Houses of Congress, had noisily committed 
 themselves to a policy which, under the cireum- 
 stances, could end only in war. Such had to be 
 brought into line. That they would be brought 
 into line, and no matter with what groans, pro- 
 
 1Dana’s Wheaton, § 504, note 228 (p. 507). Harris’s The 
 Trent Affair, 184, 135, 274-277; Rhodes, iii. 534. 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 231 
 
 testations, and grimaces, eat their own scarcely 
 uttered words, was to the last moment question- 
 able ; and, until it was certain, Her Majesty’s 
 government, from the British standpoint, had 
 but one course to take. Those composing it, 
 whatever individually or in private they may 
 have intended or wished, must evince an inflex- 
 ible determination, an unchangeable purpose. 
 Secretary Seward, it is to be remembered, at 
 this time commanded the confidence of no Euro- 
 pean foreign secretary. It is wholly immaterial 
 whether the distrust of him then so prevalent was 
 or was not well founded; that it existed is indis- 
 putable, and, in this connection, enough. He 
 was deemed unreliable, — in a word, “ tricky.” 
 The story of the Newcastle insult also was cur- 
 rent, and was undenied; yet the Duke of New- 
 castle was a member of the Palmerston-Russell 
 ministry. Moreover, while Secretary Seward 
 was penning his conciliatory dispatch of No- 
 vember 30th, Dr. Russell was writing to the 
 “Times: ” “In the present temper of the Amer- 
 ican people, no concession can avert serious com- 
 plications very long, or the surrender [by Great 
 Britain] of all the boasted privileges of the Civis 
 Romanus. .. . I believe the government will 
 retain [Mason and Slidell] at all risks, because 
 it dare not give them up, not being strong 
 enough to do what is right in face of popular 
 
232 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 sentiment.” In the same journal, in its issue of 
 December 10th, there was another letter from 
 Dr. Russell, in which, referring to a rumor cur- 
 rent in Washington when he wrote that Mason 
 and Slidell would be given up, he went on to 
 say: “If it be true, this government is broken 
 up. There is so much violence of spirit among 
 the lower orders of the people, and they are so 
 ignorant of everything except their own politics 
 and passions, so saturated with pride and vanity, 
 that any honorable concession, even in this hour 
 of extremity, would prove fatal to its authors.” 
 
 Such were the most authentic advices from 
 America, and, only five days before Mr. Adams 
 read to Earl Russell the dispatch of November 
 30th, the “Times” editorially referred to “a 
 general persuasion that upon his ability to in- 
 volve the United States in a war with England 
 Mr. Seward has staked his official existence, and, 
 whatever may be the consequences to America 
 of a war with this country, to him it has become 
 an article of the very first necessity.” As if to 
 emphasize this “‘ persuasion,” and wholly to dis- 
 credit the pacific assurances of the secretary, 
 Congress met on the 2d of December, and the 
 same steamer which brought Mr. Seward’s dis- 
 patch brought news also of the official approval 
 of Captain Wilkes’s act by the secretary of the 
 navy, and the unanimous passage of a vote of 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 233 
 
 thanks to him by the national House of Repre- 
 sentatives. As the record is gone over now, the 
 nation seems to have been demented. Unques- 
 tionably it so impressed European observers. 
 Mr. Thurlow Weed was then in London, and 
 a carefully considered letter from him had ap- 
 peared in the “ Times” of December 14th. Mr. 
 Adams, to whom Mr. Weed submitted the let- 
 ter before sending it, thought it “a little too 
 smooth and deprecating,” and told Mr. Weed 
 “it would conciliate no favor.” In it the writer 
 tried to smooth over the Newcastle story, merely 
 asserting that “by all Americans the badinage 
 of Mr. Seward would have been readily under- 
 stood ;” which, as an explanation, left much to 
 be desired: but he further intimated that the 
 Trent affair might best be disposed of through 
 a protracted negotiation, entered into in “a 
 neighborly spirit.” The inference was inevi- 
 table that Mr. Weed reflected in this suggestion 
 the purpose of Mr. Seward, and the latter thus 
 had in view a long paper discussion when he 
 expressed the hope that the British government 
 would “ consider the subject in a friendly spirit.” 
 However much Senator Sumner or even Presi- 
 dent Lincoln might incline to it, the govern- 
 ment and people of England did not propose to 
 have that particular affair made the subject of 
 a long paper controversy, resulting in an arbi- 
 
234 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 tration. There can be no possible question that, 
 under similar circumstances, the American peo- 
 ple would even now evince a similar disinclina- 
 tion not less pronounced. 
 
 Thus in London, between the 19th of Decem- 
 ber, 1861, and the 8th of January, 1862, it was 
 not clear what Secretary Seward had in mind 
 when he wrote the dispatch of November 30th ; 
 while grave doubts were not unfairly entertained 
 as to whether he really desired to maintain the 
 peace, or, if he did so desire, whether it was 
 within his power to control the American situa- 
 tion. Indeed, as matter of fact, when the secre- 
 tary of state penned his “ confidential” dispatch 
 he did not voice the sentiments of the Cabinet 
 at that date, much less those of Congress, or 
 the press, or the American people. Thoroughly 
 to sober these, they needed to look the certainty 
 of a foreign war full in the face. Under such 
 circumstances, it seems somewhat hypercritical 
 to hold to a strict ethical account those English 
 statesmen who were responsible for great prac- 
 tical results. As Earl Russell not unjustly at 
 the time remarked to Lord Palmerston, “ the 
 United States government are very dangerous 
 people to run away from; ” and when peace is 
 the end in view, that end is not always best 
 secured by evincing an over-conciliatory spirit. 
 Such is apt to be construed as a disposition to 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 235 
 
 “run away,’ especially by an over-excited oppo- 
 nent who happens to be thoroughly in the 
 wrong. Certainly when thirty years later, dur- 
 ing the administration of Benjamin Harrison, 
 a not dissimilar situation arose between Chili 
 and the United States, the latter evinced no 
 disposition to allow doubts to exist as to the 
 course it was intended in certain contingencies 
 to pursue. Studied in the light of that sub- 
 sequent occurrence the course taken and _ lan- 
 guage used by the government of Great Britain 
 in December, 1861, and January, 1862, stand 
 amply justified. 
 
 Meanwhile on December 3d, four days after 
 his first interview with Earl Russell on the sub- 
 ject of the Trent, Mr. Adams himself had writ- 
 ten confidentially to Mr. Seward, setting forth 
 the situation as he saw it, and in calm, cogent 
 fashion pointed out the extreme undesirability 
 of America now placing herself “in the posi- 
 tion which has always heretofore earned for 
 England the ill will of the other maritime na- 
 tions of the globe, not excluding ourselves.” 
 On December 21st this letter reached the State 
 Department; but even then it was in time, for 
 not until the 23d, two days later, was Earl Rus- 
 sell’s leading dispatch of November 30th, de- 
 manding the release of the Confederate commis- 
 Sioners and a suitable apology, formally handed 
 
236 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 by Lord Lyons to Mr. Seward. It nowhere 
 appears in how far, if at all, Mr. Adams’s letter 
 affected the immensely momentous discussion 
 carried on in the Cabinet room of the White 
 House during Christmas Day and the day fol- 
 lowing of this year. Mr. Seward’s latest bio- 
 grapher speaks of the missive as “‘ warning and 
 very impressive,” and describes Mr. Adams as 
 being for Mr. Seward in that emergency “a 
 tower of strength.” 
 
 Meanwhile, in none of the discussions of the 
 Trent affair, many and minute as they have been, 
 is reference anywhere found to the “ confiden- 
 tial” dispatch of Mr. Adams of November 15th, 
 or the report therein given of his interview with 
 Lord Palmerston of three days previous. Yet 
 on that occasion Lord Palmerston obviously, so 
 to speak, drew the American fire; and the de- 
 tailed report of what he said had reached Wash- 
 ington, and was lying on Secretary Seward’s 
 table when he penned his dispatch of Novem- 
 ber 30th. It could not but have exercised a 
 most sobering influence, and not impossibly al- 
 tered his whole tone. The contemptuous lan- 
 guage of the British Premier regarding the two 
 men who at the very time when he spoke had 
 been seized, and about whom such a tremendous 
 ado was now being made, and his very direct 
 intimations that their presence in Europe would 
 in no wise affect the course of affairs, must, 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 237 
 
 nearly a month later, have furnished the presi- 
 dential counselors more or less food for the 
 saving second thought. In fact, it would seem 
 to be quite impossible that Secretaries Chase and 
 Welles could have listened to that statement of 
 Lord Palmerston’s views, as good-natured as they 
 were timely and shrewd, without very unpleasant 
 secret misgivings. Theirs was the not unusual 
 fate of the precipitate statesman; and a thor- 
 oughly false position, never under the most 
 favorable circumstances pleasant to contemplate, 
 becomes especially unattractive when made sud- 
 denly apparent by the words or actions of one’s 
 opponent. 
 
 Not uninfluenced probably from this cause, the 
 secretary of state had also within the last three 
 months otherwise undergone a decided change of 
 heart and of mind. Having recovered his mental 
 poise, he saw things clearly. No longer viewing 
 them through a distorted medium of Union senti- 
 ment in the South, Democracy, Nationality, and 
 Americanism, instead of challenging a foreign 
 war, he was earnestly bent on averting it. When 
 Mr. Seward first reached this most fortunate 
 realizing sense of the hard actualities of the sit- 
 uation nowhere appears. The events of July 
 probably had much to do with his change of 
 heart. Confronted with them, he could not but 
 have seen that the seaboard States, from Vir- 
 ginia to Texas, were united as one man, and, 
 
238 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 deaf to all sentimental appeal, could be dealt 
 with only by force. For this the blockade was 
 indispensable ; and the blockade depended on 
 the control of the ocean. As a maritime power, 
 Great Britain was at that time irresistible; and 
 on the issue raised Great Britain was unques- 
 tionably right, excepting always her own bad 
 precedents; and, in the light of strenuous past 
 contentions, the United States was preposter- 
 ously wrong. Could a United States naval of- 
 ficer, cruising in the British Channel, stop the 
 Dover and Calais mail packet to take from 
 it Confederate emissaries? The proposition 
 seemed to carry its own answer. Yet, as the 
 “Times” in its issue of December 11th very 
 clearly and correctly pointed out, this, and no- 
 thing else, was claimed. However and when- 
 ever sobered, the secretary of state now saw all 
 this as it was, and acted accordingly, persuad- 
 ing the President; and, on January 8th, Mr. 
 Adams at last received a telegram “to the effect 
 that Messrs. Mason and Slidell and suite had 
 been surrendered. Soon after Mr. Weed came 
 in from the city with confirmatory intelligence, 
 and a later telegram put it beyond doubt. So,” 
 he wrote, “ the danger of war is at present re- 
 moved ; and [ am to remain in this purgatory a 
 while longer.” He took the welcome result 
 very calmly, merely remarking in his diary that 
 the settlement left him “ with an impression of 
 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 239 
 
 nothing to do.” But it had its after-clap; for 
 three days later, he wrote : — “ The excitement 
 of the times has given my situation so much 
 prominence that I am a sort of mark for all 
 classes to shoot at. The newspapers this morn- 
 ing are rather lively. The ‘ Post’ insinuates 
 that I suppressed Mr. Seward’s dispatch relating 
 to the Trent case in order to go into the mar- 
 ket under cover of Mr. Peabody and speculate 
 in the funds. The ‘ News’ has a very sharp 
 leader putting the ‘ Post’ in a very awkward 
 position for denying, as if officially, that the dis- 
 patch had ever been communicated. It is a sin- 
 gular proceeding, and makes me doubt whether 
 that paper is so much of an organ of Lord 
 Palmerston after all.” Finally though the re- 
 action from the last craze had now fairly set in 
 and the London “ Times” astonished Messrs. 
 Mason and Slidell, fully prepared to pose as in- 
 ternational martyrs grateful for rescue, by say- 
 ing on the day of their arrival: ‘“ We do sin- 
 cerely hope that our countrymen will not give 
 these fellows anything in the shape of an ova- 
 tion,” — in spite of this, the continued optimis- 
 tic tone of the secretary jarred upon the min- 
 ister. “Our army,” he wrote, “must do the 
 rest. I had a telegram from Mr. Seward full 
 of promises of what is about to be done. The 
 past future tense will not go down here; and 
 he ought to know it.” 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 
 
 “*LorD PALMERSTON bounded like a boy at 
 any cruelty or oppression. Many years later, 
 during his second premiership, at the time when 
 the Federal General Butler outraged public 
 opinion by proclaiming at New Orleans that 
 ladies who showed discontent either by their 
 dress or demeanor would be treated like women 
 
 i, of the town, he sent to the American minister an 
 indignant letter of remonstrance so strong and 
 outspoken that Mr. Adams refused to receive it, 
 and ran off with it to the Foreign Office in the 
 utmost consternation.” } 
 
 With biographers, as with artists, the point 
 of view has a great deal to do with the aspect 
 of the matter or person under consideration. 
 In writing the life of Lord Palmerston, Mr. 
 Evelyn Ashley thus alluded in a passing way to 
 an incident and correspondence, not known to 
 many at the time it took place, and since only 
 vaguely referred to by a few writers of diplo- 
 matic reminiscences of that period. In 1862 
 
 1 Ashley’s Life of Palmerston, ii. 105. 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 241 
 
 the occurrence was significant of several things : 
 —among others, of British wrong-headedness 
 and official insolence; of the strong trend of 
 social feeling in London during the American 
 struggle over slavery; of the English disposi- 
 tion to take liberties with those not in position 
 to make their resentment immediately effective ; 
 but, above all, of the utter inability of the Eu- 
 ropean public men to understand American so- 
 cial conditions, and their practical working. 
 The episode in question occurred in June, 
 1862. The long, depressing winter following 
 the adjustment of the Trent affair had worn 
 itself away, and the London season was now at 
 its height; though over it, socially, the recent 
 death of Prince Albert threw a deep gloom. 
 Parliament was in session ; the war in America 
 was the exciting topic of the day, whether in the 
 club, on change, or at the dinner-table. From 
 the outset of his English experience Mr. Adams 
 had shared to the full in the American dis- 
 trust of Lord Palmerston. This was largely 
 due to the well-understood fact that the London 
 “ Morning Post”’ more immediately reflected the 
 views of the Prime Minister; and, throughout 
 the war, that journal was noticeable for its bitter- 
 ness towards the Washington government and 
 the loyal cause. There was little in the way of 
 disparagement that could be said, which the 
 
242 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 “Post” failed to say. Socially, and otherwise, 
 Lord and Lady Palmerston had been rather 
 particularly civil to Mr. and Mrs. Adams; and 
 it has already been seen that, following the 
 course of the ‘ Post” closely in connection with 
 the Trent affair, Mr. Adams had noticed cer- 
 tain slight indications which led him to “ doubt 
 whether that paper [was] so much of an organ 
 of Lord Palmerston, after all.” The American 
 minister was beginning to incline more favor- 
 ably towards the Premier, when suddenly the 
 occurrence of the incident alluded to by Mr. 
 Ashley prejudiced the former violently and per- 
 manently. 
 
 The spring had brought to Europe tidings of 
 an almost unbroken series of Union successes, 
 military and naval. The fall of Fort Donelson 
 had followed hard upon the capture of Roanoke 
 Island; and the splendidly dramatic contest at 
 Hampton Roads between the Merrimac and the 
 Monitor warned Europe of a complete revolu- 
 tion in maritime warfare. ‘“ With prudence and 
 energy for a few weeks” longer, it seemed to 
 Mr. Adams “ by no means unreasonable to hope 
 that we may crush the rebellion before midsum- 
 mer.” The tone of the newspapers of pro- 
 nounced Confederate leaning was despondent, 
 and the more prominent and influential rebel 
 sympathizers were fast becoming satisfied that 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 243 
 
 the South would collapse unless soon sustained 
 from without. The “ Post” was, if possible, 
 more outspoken and bitter than ever. At last, 
 on Sunday, May 11th, returning home from 
 an afternoon walk in Kensington Gardens, Mr. 
 Adams picked up from the hall table a telegram 
 from Mr. Seward, forwarded from Queenstown, 
 announcing the fall of New Orleans. ‘On go- 
 ing upstairs,” he wrote, “I found Sir Charles 
 Lyell talking with Mrs. Adams about the course 
 of the London ‘ Times’ on American affairs, and 
 the singular way in which its statements are al- 
 ways contradicted by the event next announced. 
 Its confidence last week as to the impossibility of 
 accomplishing the capture of New Orleans and 
 the Mississippi River might, for what he knew, 
 be dissipated to-morrow. At this I smiled, and 
 answered that I had news of the event in my 
 hand. This seems to me the finishing stroke of 
 the rebellion.” However this may have proved 
 in the end, the event led immediately to a 
 sharp collision between Lord Palmerston and 
 Mr. Adams. 
 
 General B. F. Butler’s memorable order No. 
 28, declaring that the women of New Orleans 
 ‘“‘ who insult any soldiers are to be regarded and 
 treated as common women plying their vocation,” 
 was made public on May 15, 1862. An English- 
 man’s idea of women of the town and the treat- 
 
244 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ment accorded them, and the ideas of an Ameri- 
 can, differed greatly. As respects that class, the 
 London of 1862 was, as nearly as a so-called 
 civilized community could be, positively shame- 
 less. No respectable woman of ordinarily attrac- 
 tive aspect could venture alone in the streets. 
 She was almost certain to be addressed; while 
 men were invariably and openly solicited. In 
 the United States, and especially in the cities 
 of the South, it was in both respects altogether 
 otherwise. In New Orleans, for instance, the 
 deference shown to white women was well known 
 and almost excessive. It was the custom of 
 the country, — a custom so well understood 
 that it had long and frequently excited the 
 notice of travelers from Europe, and more 
 than once been the subject of amused comment. 
 The Southern women were, so to speak, accli- 
 mated to it. Taking it as matter of course, 
 they often assumed upon it. Especially was 
 this the case under the excitement of the civil 
 war; and Pollard, the Confederate historical 
 writer, describes the state of things in this re- 
 spect then existent in terms which, to a Euro- 
 pean, would be inconceivable, as implying only 
 one thing, and that thing a Saturnalia. ‘ The 
 intermingling,’ he wrote, “of the best ladies 
 with the soldiers was something curious, The 
 usual routine of social life was abandoned, and ~ 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 245 
 
 a universal interest in the war broke down the 
 barriers of sex as well as of class. Even those 
 ladies who were most exclusively reared, who 
 had formerly bristled with punctilios of pro- 
 priety, admitted the right of any soldier to ad- 
 dress them, to offer them attentions, and to 
 escort them in the street. The ceremony of an 
 introduction was not required ; the uniform was 
 sufficient as such.” 4 
 
 Unfortunately, when, through the fate of «war, 
 the Union soldier in his federal uniform a lit- 
 tle later on took the place of the Confederate in 
 those same streets, this female effusiveness as- 
 sumed a quite different though not less demon- 
 strative form. In the many accounts of a cer- 
 tain famous interview between Queen Louisa of 
 Prussia and Napoleon, in October, 1806, it has 
 never been suggested that Her Majesty began by 
 bearing herself towards the victor of Jena as if 
 he were a Corsican dog whose mere presence was 
 pollution ; nor does Marbot, or any other writer 
 of recollections of that period, anywhere mention 
 that, after Austerlitz, high-born Viennese dames 
 took occasion to empty the slops out of chamber 
 windows at the moment when uniformed mar- 
 shals of France were passing on the pavement 
 below. In Spain, also, during the earlier years 
 of the century, as in India more recently, it was 
 
 1 Life of Jefferson Davis, 133. 
 
246 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 not the custom for the women of captured cities 
 to demean themselves in presence of a victori- 
 ous British soldiery with ostentatious contempt. 
 On the contrary, they generally sought a severe 
 seclusion, preferring for that purpose churches 
 and other holy places, the sanctity of which, 
 according to high military authority, did not 
 always afford them an adequate protection. 
 With the “ladies” of the Confederacy it was 
 altogether different. Mr. Ashley innocently 
 suggests that they “showed discontent” by 
 “dress” or “demeanor.” Had they confined 
 themselves within those limits, at once narrow 
 and unobjectionable, it is quite safe to say that 
 the women of New Orleans would have had in- 
 comparably less grounds for outery than, under 
 similar circumstances, did the females of Bada- 
 joz in 1812, or those of Delhi in 1857. As mat- 
 ter of historical fact, however, availing them- 
 selves of the habits of deference associated with 
 their skirts, the demeanor of the white women 
 of Southern cities occupied by the Union army 
 towards those wearing the federal uniform was, 
 in the early days of the war, simply both inde- 
 cent and intolerable. Not content with merely 
 avoiding any contact with their victors, osten- 
 tatiously and as a contamination, they evinced 
 their “spirit” and patriotism in ways not 
 strictly indicative of refinement, or even what 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 247 
 
 is usually accepted as civility of the commonest 
 kind. In fact the “ ladies,” so called, indulged 
 in grossly insulting speech, and even spat upon 
 the blue-clad objects of their detestation. More 
 than this, with an ingenuity truly feline, they 
 took advantage of the military obsequies of 
 certain of those stationed over them who had 
 been murdered by guerillas, and trained their 
 children to cast more than contumely at the 
 coffins of the dead, while they themselves in 
 the immediate neighborhood evinced a conspic- 
 uous approval. This, as Butler truly remarked, 
 “flesh and blood” could not long stand. 
 Women of the town in New Orleans were 
 mostly mulattoes, or half-breeds; and, when 
 found practicing their calling in public, these 
 were, under a municipal regulation, arrested by 
 the police, and put with other criminals in the 
 calaboose, or lock-up. This was the American, 
 and altogether commendable, significance of 
 General Butler’s famous order. Under it no 
 woman was ever maltreated ; and, in less than 
 twenty-four hours, it brought the “ladies” of 
 New Orleans to a wholesome realizing sense of 
 the situation. But in London this order was 
 construed in an altogether different way, and in 
 accordance with the quite unmentionable prac- 
 tices then, and indeed still, to be witnessed in 
 the parks and other public resorts of that city. 
 
248 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Altogether a delicate subject, it was one upon 
 which the two communities spoke in different 
 languages ; and, when it was under discussion, 
 the English simply did not understand what 
 Americans said or had in mind. Accordingly 
 when Butler’s order No. 28, intelligible enough 
 in America, was published in England, a storm 
 of indignation swept through the press. No 
 abuse of him who promulgated the order could 
 be too strong; no denunciation of the order 
 itself too quick or emphatic. Parliament was 
 still in session, and apparently Lord Palmerston 
 thought that, in this matter, it was advisable for 
 him to make an early record. 
 
 The reported details of this obnoxious order 
 appeared in the London papers of June 10th 
 and were severely commented upon. Return- 
 ing from an afternoon walk the following day, 
 Mr. Adams found a note which, after hastily 
 reading, he threw across the table to his son, 
 who was writing on its other side, at the same 
 time exclaiming: ‘‘ What does this mean! Does 
 Palmerston want a quarrel?” The note in 
 question, marked “ confidential,” ran as follows : 
 
 Brockst, 11 June, 1862. 
 My peARr Sir, —I cannot refrain from taking the 
 liberty of saying to you that it is difficult if not im- 
 possible to express adequately the disgust which must 
 be excited in the mind of every honorable man by 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 249 
 
 the general order of General Butler given in the en- 
 closed extract from yesterday’s “Times.” Even when 
 a town is taken by assault it is the practice of the 
 commander of the conquering army to protect to his 
 utmost the inhabitants and especially the female part 
 of them, and I will venture to say that no example 
 can be found in the history of civilized nations, till 
 the publication of this order, of a general guilty in 
 cold blood of so infamous an act as deliberately to 
 hand over the female inhabitants of a conquered city 
 to the unbridled license of an unrestrained soldiery. 
 
 If the Federal government chooses to be served by 
 men capable of such revolting outrages, they must 
 submit to abide by the deserved opinion which man- 
 kind will form of their conduct. 
 
 My dear Sir, Yrs faithfully, 
 
 PALMERSTON. 
 C. F. Apams, Esq. 
 
 In this extraordinary letter Mr. Adams ap. 
 prehended a latent significance. Like Napo- 
 leon’s famous reception of the English ambas- 
 sador, Lord Whitworth, in 1803, it might prove 
 to be the initial step in a far-reaching policy 
 already decided on. As Mr. Adams wrote the 
 next day to Mr. Seward, it was in London then 
 very generally “affirmed with more and more 
 confidence, that the two governments are medi- 
 tating some form of intervention in our struggle. 
 The rumor now is that M. de Persigny has come 
 from Paris exclusively for the sake of consult- 
 
250 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ing on that subject. In such a connection, this 
 unprecedented act of the Prime Minister may 
 not be without great significance. I have long 
 thought him hostile at heart, and only checked 
 by the difference of views in the Cabinet. It 
 may be that he seeks this irregular method of 
 precipitating us all into a misunderstanding. If 
 so, I shall endeavor, whilst guarding the honor 
 of the government as well as my own, not to 
 give him any just ground of offense. It strikes 
 me that he has by his precipitation already put 
 himself in the wrong, and I hope to be able to 
 keep him there.” 
 
 That night Mr. Adams’s rest was troubled. 
 During the evening he drafted a reply; and, 
 after most careful consideration, next morning 
 sent it. It was designed to force Lord Palmer- 
 ston’s hand. If the latter’s note was written in 
 a private capacity, it was a personal affront, and 
 - to be resented as such; if as the head of Her 
 Majesty’s government, it was a clear infringe- 
 ment on the prerogatives of Earl Russell, the 
 foreign secretary. In which category did Lord 
 Palmerston propose to place himself? The re- 
 ply ran as follows : — 
 
 Lonpon, 12 June, 1862. 
 Tue Riaut Hon. ViscounT PALMERSTON, ETC., ETC. 
 My Lorp, —I have to acknowledge the reception 
 of your note of yesterday, making certain comments 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 251 
 
 upon what is stated to be an extract from the Lon- 
 don “ Times,”’ which I find enclosed. 
 
 Although this note is marked confidential and pri- 
 vate, I cannot but feel that the fact of my consenting 
 to receive it at all must place me in a most embar- 
 rassing situation. In order that I may the better 
 understand my duty, I will ask it as a favor of your 
 Lordship to let me know precisely the light in which 
 I am to consider it, — whether addressed to me in 
 any way ollicially between us, or purely as a private 
 expression of sentiment between gentlemen. 
 
 I have the honor to be, ete. 
 
 Immediately after sending the foregoing to 
 the Prime Minister, Mr. Adams wrote to the 
 foreign secretary, requesting an interview. This 
 was at once accorded, and Mr. Adams then 
 handed Lord Palmerston’s note to Earl Russell, 
 the only person connected with the government 
 whom he officially knew; and, remarking that 
 it was “entirely unprecedented,” asked to be 
 informed what, if anything, it signified. ‘‘ His 
 Lordship,” Mr. Adams wrote, “ said that this 
 was all new to him, and of course he could say 
 nothing until he had seen Lord Palmerston. 
 He hoped I would take no further action until 
 after that.” 
 
 Two days intervened, when, having heard 
 from Earl Russell in the interim, Lord Palmer- 
 ston sent the following in answer to the inter- 
 
252 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 rogatory contained in Mr. Adams’s reply to his 
 previous letter : — 
 BrockeEt, 15 June, 1862. 
 
 My prEAR Sir, —I have many apologies to make 
 to you for not having sooner answered your letter. 
 You are of course at liberty to make such use of my 
 former letter as you may think best. 
 
 I was impelled to make known to you my own per- 
 sonal feelings about General Butler’s Proclamation, 
 before any notice of it in Parliament should compel 
 me to state my opinion publicly. 
 
 I cannot but hope that the President of the United 
 States will at once have given peremptory orders for 
 withdrawing and cancelling the Proclamation. 
 
 The Federal Government are making war in order 
 to compel the Southern States to reénter the Union, 
 but the officers and soldiers of the Federal Govern- 
 ment, by their conduct not only at New Orleans but 
 as stated in private accounts which I have seen, are 
 implanting undying hatred and sentiments of insa- 
 tiable revenge in the breasts of those whom the Fed- 
 eral Government want to win back to an equal par- 
 ticipation in a free Constitution. 
 
 My dear Sir, Yrs faithfully, 
 PALMERSTON. 
 Hon. C. F. ApAms. 
 
 To the foregoing Mr. Adams next day replied 
 as follows : — 
 Lonpon, 16 June, 1862. 
 My Lorp, —I have to acknowledge the reception 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 253 
 
 of your Lordship’s note of yesterday in reply to mine 
 of the 12th inst. I have read it with attention, but 
 I regret to perceive that it inadvertently omits to 
 favor me with an answer to the question which I 
 respectfully asked in it. 
 
 Under these circumstances the painful embarrass- 
 ment in which I am involved is in no way relieved. 
 Although it be true that the confidential character of 
 the first note is now taken off by your Lordship’s con- 
 sent, I notice that the word “private” is still at- 
 tached to both. : 
 
 I trust your Lordship will at once understand how 
 impossible it is for me, with any self-respect, to en- 
 tertain as private any communications which contain 
 what I cannot but consider most offensive imputations 
 against the Government which I have the honor to 
 represent at this Court. Imputations, too, based 
 upon an extract from a London newspaper on which 
 the most unfavorable construction is placed without 
 a@ moment’s consideration of any other, or any delay 
 to understand the action of the Government itself. 
 
 I am quite certain that that Government did not 
 send me to entertain any discussions of this kind 
 here. It is in my view fully competent to the care 
 of its own reputation, when attacked either at home 
 or abroad. But I know it would visit with just in- 
 dignation upon its servants abroad their tame sub- 
 mission to receive under the seal of privacy any 
 indignity which it might be the disposition of the 
 servants of any sovereign however exalted to offer 
 to it in that form. 
 
254 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Under these circumstances, I feel myself compelled, 
 for my own relief, to the painful necessity of once 
 more respectfully soliciting your Lordship to know 
 whether your first note of the 11th instant was de- 
 signed in any way officially, or whether it was simply 
 a private communication of sentiment between gen- 
 tlemen. 
 
 I have the honor to be, my Lord, 
 Yr Obedient Serv’t. 
 
 The Right Hon. Viscount PALMERSTON, etc., ete. 
 
 Nothing further transpired in the matter un- 
 til the 19th. Mr. Adams then had a further 
 official interview with the foreign secretary on 
 other business; after disposing of this, he re- 
 ferred to the Palmerston matter which, he said, 
 kept him embarrassed. He informed Earl Rus- 
 - sell that Lord Palmerston “ had not answered 
 my second note, and it was now four days. His 
 Lordship said he had written a note to his Lord- 
 ship, to which no answer had been returned. 
 He would write again. He intimated that the 
 thing was altogether irregular, and could be re- 
 garded only as a private proceeding. This was 
 a great relief to me, for I now saw that I had 
 all the advantage. Another admission of his 
 was not unimportant, and that was his belief 
 that the rebellion was drawing to its end, at 
 least in the open field. He referred to the mo- 
 tion of Mr. Lindsay, to be proposed to-morrow 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 255 
 
 in the House of Commons, as one that must 
 come to nothing. All this indicates a propi- 
 tious change in the temper of the ministry, and 
 a sign that Lord Palmerston has overshot his 
 mark. I think it was the most kindly interview 
 I have had.” 
 
 Earl Russell’s reference to the motion to be 
 made the following day in the House of Com- 
 mons probably explains the whole purpose of 
 Lord Palmerston. He had contemplated a 
 piece of what can only be designated as “par- 
 liamentary claptrap.” Taking advantage of 
 the loud and widespread denunciation of But- 
 ler and the order No. 28, he meant to tell an 
 applauding House, in true Palmerstonian vein, 
 how he, the Premier, had given the American 
 minister “a bit of his mind” on that subject. 
 Unfortunately, he found that he had, in his pre- 
 cipitation, “ overshot his mark,’ as Mr. Adams 
 expressed it. On the one hand, put in a false 
 position by the antagonist thus provoked, he 
 had seriously compromised his personal relations 
 with the minister of the United States ; while, 
 on the other hand, he had been reminded, some- 
 what curtly it may be assumed, by his associate 
 in the ministry, not to meddle in matters within 
 the latter’s province. Altogether, the incident 
 was not a subject for self-laudation. It had 
 best be silently dismissed. Mr. Adams, under 
 
256 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 the circumstances, was of the same opinion, as 
 the following diary entry shows : — 
 
 ‘“ Friday, 20th June : — Sent a closing note to 
 Lord Palmerston, assuming his note to be a with- 
 drawal of the offensive imputations, and declin- 
 ing this form of correspondence for the future. 
 I also sent the remainder to the government at 
 home. My relief at getting out of the personal 
 question is indescribable. It is not for me to 
 become a cause of quarrel between the two coun- 
 tries at this crisis.” 
 
 The remainder of the correspondence was as 
 
 follows : — 
 Private. 
 
 94 PiccApDILLy, 19 June, 1862. 
 
 My preAR Sir, — You repeat in your letter of 
 the 16th a question which our relative positions 
 might, I think, have rendered unnecessary, namely, 
 whether my first letter to you should be considered 
 as a communication between private gentlemen or 
 as bearing an official character. 
 
 If I had been merely a private gentleman I should 
 not have deemed myself entitled to address the Min- 
 ister of the United States upon a public matter; and 
 if you had been here merely as a private gentleman, 
 I should not, as Head of the Government, have 
 thought it of any use to communicate with you upon 
 any matter which might have a bearing upon the re- 
 lations between our two countries. So much for the 
 first part of your question. 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 257 
 
 As to the second part, it is well known that the 
 Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs is the regular 
 official organ for communications between the British 
 Government and the Governments of Foreign States ; 
 but it is also well known that it is a part of the func- 
 tions and may sometimes be the duty of the first Min- 
 ister of the Crown to communicate with the represent- 
 atives of Foreign States upon matters which have a 
 bearing upon the relations between Great Britain and 
 those States; and such communications are often as 
 useful as those which take place more formally and 
 officially between the Secretary of State and such 
 representatives. 
 
 Now the perusal of General Butler’s Proclamation 
 excited in my mind feelings which I was sure would 
 be shared by every honorable man in the United 
 Kingdom, and it required no great sagacity to foresee 
 that those feelings would not be conducive to the 
 maintenance of those mutual sentiments of good-will 
 between our respective countrymen, which are so 
 much to be desired for the interest of both nations. 
 
 I conceived, therefore, that I was doing good ser- 
 vice to both, by enabling you in such manner as to 
 you might seem best, to let your Government know 
 the impression which General Butler’s Proclamation 
 had produced in this country ; and I thought it bet- 
 ter that you should know that impression privately 
 and confidentially from a person who is in a situation 
 to judge what the feelings of the British nation may 
 be, rather than that you should for the first time learn 
 them in a more public manner. 
 
258 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 I at the same time implied a hope that the United 
 States Government would not allow itself to be re- 
 presented in such matters by such a person as the 
 author of that Proclamation. This hope, I am glad 
 to find, has proved to be well founded; for we have 
 learnt by Dispatches from Lord Lyons that all power 
 over the civil inhabitants of New Orleans has been 
 taken away from General Butler and has been placed 
 in other hands; and it appears that the new civil Govy- 
 ernor has issued a Proclamation which, by promising 
 security for the Honor of the inhabitants of the city, 
 virtually and I may add virtuously annuls the pro- 
 clamation of General Butler. We have also learnt 
 with satisfaction that the United States Government 
 have sent to New Orleans an officer specially in- 
 structed to inquire into and to redress certain out- 
 rageous proceedings of General Butler towards Con- 
 sular Agents of European Powers. 
 
 You are pleased to say in your last letter that I 
 have cast offensive imputations upon, and have offered 
 indignity to your government; I entirely deny the 
 charge; and assert that there is nothing in my letters 
 which can bear it out. My observations applied to 
 the Proclamation of General Butler; and the United 
 States Government have shown by superseding him 
 in his civil command that they shared the sentiments 
 which I have expressed, and they have thereby done 
 themselves honor. 
 
 I am, my dear sir, yours faithfully, 
 PALMERSTON. 
 The Hon’ble C. F. ApAms, ete., ete. 
 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 259 
 
 5 Upper Porrianp Puace, 20 June, 1862. 
 
 My Lorp, — In all the relations which I have had 
 the honor to hold with her Majesty's Ministers, it has 
 been a source of satisfaction to me to be able to say 
 that I have met with nothing but the utmost courtesy 
 both publicly and privately. I trust that on my part 
 I have labored not without success to act in the same 
 spirit. Your Lordship’s note to me of the 11th in- 
 stant was the first instance in which that line ap- 
 peared to me to be infringed upon. 
 
 I now understand by the answer to my note of the 
 16th, with which your Lordship has favored me, that 
 in writing that first note you do act as First Minister 
 to the Crown, and that you do address me as the Min- 
 ister of the United States. To that extent the case 
 is then resolved into a public transaction. 
 
 But, on the other hand, your Lordship has put upon 
 this apparently public act the special mark of a con- 
 fidential and a private communication, thereby, so far 
 as it may be in your power, laying an injunction of 
 secrecy upon me, without my consent, which would 
 seem to prevent me from construing your action as 
 that of the Government which you represent. 
 
 I now understand your Lordship substantially to 
 withdraw what I cannot but regard as the precipitate 
 implications contained in your first note, so far as 
 they relate to the Government of the United States 
 by denying their existence. I am very happy to 
 be able to come to that conclusion, inasmuch as it 
 discharges me from all further responsibility in 
 the premises. A copy of the correspondence will 
 
260 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 be transmitted to the Government of the United 
 States. 
 
 It is however no more than proper to add that the 
 difficulties in the way of this anomalous form of pro- 
 ceeding seem to me to be so grave, and the disad- 
 vantage under which it places those persons who may 
 be serving as diplomatic representatives of foreign 
 countries at this Court so serious, as to make it my 
 painful duty to say to your Lordship that I must 
 hereafter so long as I remain here in a public capa- 
 city decline to entertain any similar correspondence. 
 
 I have the honor to be, my Lord, 
 Y’r very obed’t Serv’t. 
 
 The Right Hon. Viscount PALMERSTON, etc., etc. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Adams now discontinued their 
 customary attendance at the receptions at Cam- 
 bridge House. The manner in which the wily 
 and really good-natured Prime Minister, acting 
 after his wont in such eases through the skillful 
 codperation of Lady Palmerston, subsequently, 
 when he thought desirable so to do, renewed 
 social relations, was interesting and eminently 
 characteristic ; but to recount it is beyond the 
 scope of the present sketch. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 THE COTTON FAMINE 
 
 THE European diplomatic situation from an 
 American point of view was, in the years 1861 
 and 1862, sufficiently delicate without being 
 made more so by the intervention of either the 
 overzealous naval officer or the overbearing 
 Prime Minister. In the Trent affair and in the 
 Butler correspondence both these intruded them- 
 selves on Mr. Adams. In no respect was his 
 bed one of roses. These difficulties once dis- 
 posed of, the problem reduced itself to its natu- 
 ral elements. They were comparatively sim- 
 ple. It was a question whether the efforts of 
 the moneyed, commercial, and aristocratic cir- 
 cles of Great Britain, stimulated by Napoleon 
 III., to precipitate Her Majesty’s government 
 into some kind of a participation in the Ameri- 
 can war, could be held in check until either the 
 moral, anti-slavery sentiment of England could 
 be aroused, or the forces of the Union should 
 assert an indisputable supremacy. To the last 
 result an effective blockade was indispensable ; 
 and of course an effective blockade of the Con- 
 
262 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 federacy implied for Europe the almost com- 
 plete stoppage of its cotton supply. 
 
 The supreme test was, therefore, to be applied 
 at the exact point and in the way foreshadowed 
 by B. C. Yancey to his brother, the Confederate 
 European commissioner, at Montgomery, in Feb- 
 ruary, 1861. He then, it will be remembered, 
 advised W. L. Yancey not to go to Europe as" 
 the diplomatic representative of the Confed- 
 eracy, relying solely on the efficacy of cotton to 
 produce all desired results ; and, while so doing, 
 pointed out that in Great Britain Cobden and 
 Bright would certainly oppose the recognition 
 of ‘a slaveholders’ Confederacy.” Cobden and 
 Bright, he asserted, were the leaders of the la- 
 boring classes, and to the views and wishes of 
 the laboring classes Her Majesty’s government 
 always in the end paid deep respect. Jefferson 
 Davis, on the other hand, had rested the whole 
 foreign policy, and as a result the domestic 
 fate, of the Confederacy, on the absolute com- 
 mercial, and consequently the political, suprem- 
 acy of cotton. The demand for it would prove 
 irresistible, and so compel European intervention. 
 Six months was the period allotted, in which it 
 was to assert its supremacy. Mr. Adams was 
 now, as a most interested spectator, to have a 
 chance to observe once more, on a different field 
 and a larger scale, the struggle between Con- 
 science and Cotton. 
 
THE COTTON FAMINE 263 
 
 The parties to the contest on the side of Cot- 
 ton have already been referred to. They in- 
 cluded whatever was most in evidence in Great 
 Britain, — birth, position, wealth, the profes- 
 sions, and Lombard Street. On the side of 
 Conscience the array was meagre. B. C. Yan- 
 cey had specified Messrs. Cobden and Bright 
 only, as the leaders of the British laboring 
 classes; and Mr. Adams so found them: but, 
 so far as America was concerned, both these 
 gentlemen had to yield priority to William E. 
 Forster, only three months before elected to 
 Parliament as member from Bradford. Through- 
 out the struggle now impending Mr. Forster 
 proved the most earnest, the most courageous, 
 and the most effective friend the United States 
 had among men prominent in English public 
 life! Mr. Adams, when he arrived in London, 
 had absolutely no European acquaintance. Mr. 
 Cobden he had met during one of that gentle- 
 man’s numerous visits to America, dining in his 
 company at the house of John M. Forbes on 
 Milton Hill, in June two years before. He had 
 
 1 When, seven years later, Mr. Adams was about to return 
 home at the close of his mission, he requested Mr. Forster to 
 accept from him a set of the “Works of John Adams,” 
 which he had brought out to England, and ‘‘ reserved for the 
 person whom I most esteem, as well for his stanch and un- 
 varying support of a policy of good-will to America as for his 
 
 personal qualities as I have observed them in private inter- 
 course.” 
 
264 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 then found himself “a little disappointed in Mr. 
 Cobden.” He thought him “a man of capacity 
 and information, but without any of the lighter 
 graces and refinements which are only given 
 by a first-class classical education, —a modern 
 Englishman, of the reform school.” John 
 Bright he had of course heard of. Mr. Forster 
 he had never either seen or heard of until, on 
 the morning of May 14th, the day after Mr. 
 Adams reached London, that gentleman called 
 on him at his hotel, coming at once to talk 
 “concerning the course of the government, and 
 the mode of meeting” the parliamentary action 
 already initiated by the friends of the Confed- 
 eracy. “He feared that a proclamation was 
 about to be issued which, by directly acknow- 
 ledging the slave States as a party establish- 
 ing its right by force, would tend to complicate 
 affairs very considerably.” In the subsequent 
 protracted struggle, stretching over the next 
 thirty months, Mr. Adams was in constant com- 
 munication with these three gentlemen, and they 
 rendered the United States services of inesti- 
 mable value. In fact, it is not too much to say 
 that, but for them, intervention in all prob- 
 ability could not have been averted, or the 
 blockade maintained. Yet they were all in the 
 cotton manufacturing interest, representing re- 
 
 spectively Rochdale, Birmingham, and Bradford. 
 

 

 
THE COTTON FAMINE oi 265 
 
 Curiously enough also, Mr. Cobden, at that 
 time politically much the most influential of 
 the three, was on broad general principles op- 
 posed to blockades. He considered them, like 
 privateering, a survival from a barbarous past, 
 and contended that in future they should, by 
 the common consent of civilized nations, be 
 limited in operation to arsenals, dockyards, and 
 military strongholds.1|. He wanted the United 
 States now to come forward and establish a pre- 
 cedent. So he repeatedly urged on Mr. Adams 
 the voluntary abandonment by the United States 
 of its blockade of the Confederacy, on the 
 ground that it did the Union cause more harm 
 than good. In taking this position he was 
 doubtless influenced by his point of view as a 
 manufacturer, and the representative of cotton- 
 spinners; but the fact that his advice was dis- 
 regarded and his commercial interests sacrificed 
 never deflected his political action. He re- 
 mained absolutely true to his fundamental prin- 
 ciples. Temporary suffering and pecuniary loss 
 to the contrary notwithstanding, he set human 
 freedom and the elevation of the masses of man- 
 kind above the whir of spindles. 
 
 The European cotton famine of 1861- 63, at 
 the time a very momentous affair, is now for- 
 
 1 Speech at Manchester, October 25, 1862. Speeches, 451- 
 454. Morley’s Life of Cobden, 575. 
 
266 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 gotten; yet upon it hung the fate of the Ameri- 
 ean Union. It has already been shown how, in 
 the diplomatic game of the Confederacy, it was 
 the one great card in their hand; the card sure, 
 in their belief, to win: and, as their game grew 
 desperate, the Confederate leaders played that 
 ecard for all it was worth. Of cotton as a great 
 commercial staple the South enjoyed a practical 
 monopoly, and the crop of 1860, the largest on 
 record, had gone forward in the regular way. 
 The shipments were practically complete when 
 the blockade of April, 1861, was declared. By 
 the spring of 1862, the supply in European 
 ports was running ominously low. Estimated 
 on May 1, 1861, at nearly 1,500,000 bales, on 
 the same date a year later it had become 
 reduced to only 500,000. In Liverpool the 
 stock had shrunk from close upon 1,000,000 to 
 a little more than 360,000 bales, while the price 
 per pound had risen from seven to thirteen 
 pence. The shrinkage, too, was wholly in the 
 American product; and the figures relating to 
 that were most significant as bearing on the 
 growing effectiveness of that blockade, which 
 the Confederate emissaries were in the habit of 
 referring to, with well-simulated contempt, as a 
 mere paper pretense. But in May, 1862, the 
 efficacy of the blockade was read in the cot- 
 ton quotations; for, during the preceding six 
 
THE COTTON FAMINE 267 
 
 months, the quantity received from America 
 had been only 11,500 bales, while in the corre- 
 sponding period of 1860-61 it had been 1,500,- 
 000, more than one hundredfold the quantity 
 now received. In Manchester and Liverpool 
 the distress was already indisputably great, and, 
 moreover, obviously increasing. One half of 
 the spindles of Lancashire were idle, and in the 
 towns of Blackburn and Preston alone over 
 20,000 persons were dependent on parochial aid. 
 Of seventy-four mills in Blackburn in the early 
 days of September, 1862, eighteen were run- 
 ning full time, sixteen short time, and thirty 
 were entirely closed; the weekly loss of wages 
 amounted to one thousand pounds. Blackburn 
 was typical; other manufacturing communities 
 were in scarcely better plight. The newspapers 
 were full of pitiable cases of individual destitu- 
 tion; public meetings were held; the subject 
 was brought before both Houses of Parliament. 
 The strain on the Poor Laws was so severe that 
 their modification was considered ; but still the 
 distress was not so great as had before been 
 known, nor were the local resources exhausted. 
 Meanwhile the period of six months, originally 
 assigned by the Confederate economical authori- 
 ties as the extreme limit of European endurance, 
 was already long passed, and some among them 
 began to entertain doubts. Among these was 
 
268 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 William L. Yancey. His observations in Eu- 
 rope had widened his vision ; and when return- 
 ing home in March, 1862, he reached New Or- 
 leans, though in the course of a public speech 
 made in the rotunda of the St. Charles Hotel, 
 he intimated a belief that necessity would 
 shortly compel a European raising of the block- 
 ade, he significantly added: “It is an error to 
 say that ‘Cotton is King.’ It is not. It is a 
 great and influential power in commerce, but 
 not its dictator.” 
 
 In the manufacturing districts the situation 
 grew rapidly worse, — became in fact well-nigh 
 unendurable. On the one hand, the looms 
 which in 1860 had consumed on an average 
 40,000 bales of American cotton a week, now 
 might count upon receiving, perhaps, 4000 ; on 
 the other hand, the unprecedented price brought 
 by the staple failed, for reasons elaborately ex- 
 plained, to stimulate the production of India 
 and Egypt to the extent necessary to meet the 
 deficiency. In May, 1862, American cotton 
 ruled at thirteen pence per pound. It con- 
 tinued at about that price until July, when it 
 rose to seventeen pence; and thence, in Au- 
 gust, shot up first to twenty pence, and after- 
 wards, by speculative leaps and bounds, it went 
 up and up, until, at last, on September 3d, it 
 was quoted at half a crown a pound. Such 
 
THE COTTON FAMINE 269 
 
 figures were unheard of; but, even at thirty 
 pence, the fast vanishing supply on hand at 
 Liverpool was depleted by shipments to Havre 
 and New York. The French and American 
 spinners were in the market at any price. Of 
 course none but the best equipped mills, turn- 
 ing out the finest fabrics, could manufacture 
 such costly raw material; for, in view of the 
 relative prices of the raw material and the coarser 
 manufactured fabric, it was now much more pro- 
 fitable to hold cotton for a rise than to turn it 
 into cloth. The situation was thus complicated 
 by a wild speculative movement, and the mill- 
 owner, who was fortunate enough to have a stock 
 of cotton on hand, shut down, because he could 
 make more as a speculator than as a spinner. 
 Meanwhile as he grew rich on an unearned 
 increment, the idle operatives starved. Thus 
 the inferior mills closed their gates, while those 
 of the better class ran on reduced time, — two, 
 three, or four days in the week. By the end 
 of September, out of 80,000 operatives in five 
 localities in Lancashire, only 14,000 were work- 
 ing full time, while the remaining 66,000 were 
 about equally divided between those working 
 on short time and those wholly idle. In twenty- 
 four unions 156,000 persons were reported as 
 receiving parochial relief, and the number was 
 then increasing at the rate of 6000 aweek. As 
 
270 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 compared with the same time in the previous 
 year, the war then not yet being six months 
 old or the crop of 1860 cotton exhausted, the 
 situation was deemed very bad; the number of 
 applicants for relief had increased nearly three- 
 fold. Before the end of October conditions 
 were appreciably worse. In the same number 
 of unions 176,000 people were receiving relief ; 
 in six consecutive weeks 35,668 persons had 
 become paupers; while the wholly unemployed 
 exceeded those working on full time by nearly 
 two to one. At the beginning of 1861, the con- 
 sumption of. cotton in Great Britain was esti- 
 mated at 50,000 bales per week; at the close of 
 1862 it had fallen to 20,000 bales, of very in- 
 ferior weight as well as quality. The weekly 
 loss of wages was computed at $100,000. The 
 local resources, municipal and voluntary, were 
 exhausted, or inadequate for the work of relief, 
 and a call for aid went forth. The response 
 was generous. Not only were large private 
 subscriptions forthcoming, but collections were 
 taken up throughout the United Kingdom, while 
 Australia, Canada, India, and even China sent 
 in their contributions. Between the 9th of 
 June and the 81st of December the Central 
 Executive Committee having the work of relief 
 in hand charged itself with no less than £593,- 
 000 received from these sources. Meanwhile, 
 
THE COTTON FAMINE > O71 
 
 in spite of. this magnificent giving, the columns 
 of the press teemed with instances of dire suf- 
 fering. 
 
 In France the situation was no better; in- 
 deed, owing to the deeper poverty of the popu- 
 lation at the manufacturing centres, some as- 
 serted that it was worse. At Rouen, of 50,000 
 operatives ordinarily engaged in spinning, weav- 
 - ing, dyeing, ete., 30,000 were absolutely with- 
 out occupation. In the adjoining country dis- 
 tricts, out of 65,000 hand-looms, one fifth only 
 were at work. It was estimated that in a single 
 district no less than 130,000 persons, aggre- 
 gating with those dependent upon them a total 
 of some 300,000 souls, were absolutely destitute, 
 all because of the cotton famine. The editor of 
 the “ Revue des Deux Mondes” declared that a 
 sum of twelve millions of francs was required to 
 maintain these people for three months, even 
 supposing that cotton would be forthcoming at 
 the end of that time. The estimate was of 
 course based on the supposition that immediate 
 measures would be taken to raise the blockade. 
 
 The extraordinary feature in the situation 
 was, however, the patience of the victims; and 
 the organs of the Confederacy noted with ill- 
 suppressed dismay the absence of “political 
 demonstrations, to urge upon a neglectful gov- 
 ernment its duty towards its suffering subjects, 
 
272 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 and to enforce at once the rules of international 
 law and the rights of an injured and innocent 
 population.” A distinctly audible whine was 
 perceptible in their utterances. ‘ It is,” one of 
 them said, “the great peculiarity of England 
 that the heart of the country is thoroughly re- 
 ligious. ‘The plain issue, then, between the two 
 nations, was therefore naturally overlooked by 
 those whose programme in America was the law 
 of conscience overriding the law of the land; 
 and the prominence they gave to the slave ques- 
 tion was especially directed to the religious pub- 
 lic in England. And well has it answered their 
 purpose. To this very hour the great mass of 
 the people have no other terms to express the 
 nature of the conflict. It is to no purpose that 
 argument, fact, and experience have shown the 
 utter indifference of the North to the welfare of 
 the negro; the complete appreciation by the 
 slaves themselves of the sham friendship offered 
 them ; and, still more, the diabolical preaching 
 of the ministers of God’s word, who rely on 
 Sharp’s rifles to carry out their doctrines. The 
 emancipation of the negro from the slavery of 
 Mrs. Beecher Stowe’s heroes is the one idea of 
 the millions of British who know no better, and 
 do not care to know.” In truth, the fundamen- 
 tal sin of the Confederacy had found it out. 
 Literally, and in no way figuratively, the curse 
 
THE COTTON FAMINE 273 
 
 of the bondsman was on it. Rarely, indeed, in 
 the history of mankind, has there been a more 
 creditable exhibition of human sympathy, and 
 what is known as altruism, than that now wit- 
 nessed in Lancashire. The common folk of 
 England, Lincoln’s “ plain people,” workless and 
 hungry, felt what the wealthier class refused to 
 believe, that the cause at issue in America was 
 the right of a workingman to his own share in 
 the results of his toil. That cause, they .in- 
 stinctively knew, was somehow their cause, and 
 they would not betray it. So no organized cry 
 went up to break the blockade which, while it 
 shut up cotton, was throttling slavery. 
 
 Yet not for six months, or until the close of 
 1862, did the distress show signs of abatement. 
 During those months the weekly returns of the 
 poor were watched with an anxiety hardly less 
 great than if they had been the bills of mor- 
 tality in a time of plague. The quotations of 
 cotton marked unerringly the severity of the 
 pressure. Touching thirty pence at the begin- 
 ning of September, before the close of the year 
 it ruled five pence lower. A falling market 
 then put a stop to speculation, and cotton in 
 store began to find its way to the market. The 
 staple was no longer hoarded, and the stock on 
 hand was found to be materially larger than 
 had been supposed. In a speech made by him 
 
274 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 at this time, Mr. Gladstone estimated that of 
 the entire number of persons concerned in the 
 manufacture of cotton fabrics, one eighth only 
 were at full work, three eighths were working 
 short time, while one half were wholly idle. Of 
 the unemployed and their families, 250,000 were 
 paupers, and 190,000 dependent to a greater or 
 less degree on the relief societies; the entire 
 charge, public and private, was £44,000 per 
 week. The loss of wages he computed at eight 
 millions sterling a year. Nevertheless, natural 
 causes were bringing about a gradual measure 
 of relief. Thus early in January, 18638, the 
 number of dependent persons was reported at 
 nearly 457,000 ; in April this number had fallen 
 to 864,000; and it further fell to 256,666 in 
 June. At the close of the year it was 180,000; 
 and, though the price of American cotton still 
 ruled at twenty-six pence, the supply of the 
 staple from all sources in 1863 was more than 
 twenty-five per cent. greater than in 1862. By 
 that time, therefore, all danger from a cotton 
 scarcity was over. The Confederacy had staked 
 its whole foreign policy on a single card; and 
 the card had failed to win. Yet the failure was 
 due to no sudden contingencies beyond human 
 prevision. It was, on the contrary, a com- 
 plete case of miscaleculating overconfidence, — 
 the means were inadequate to the end. The 
 
THE COTTON FAMINE 275 
 
 pressure had been applied to the full extent, 
 and every condition contributed to its severity. 
 The warehouses were bursting with manufactured 
 goods, the overproduction of the previous year, 
 which alone, through glutted markets, would 
 have caused a reaction and extreme consequent 
 dullness in the manufacturing centres. This 
 natural result was vastly aggravated by the 
 blockade, which shut off the raw material from 
 such of the mills as would still have kept ‘run- 
 ning. The speculator, waiting for the last 
 farthing of the rise, then held the scanty stock 
 on hand unspun. The other cotton-producing 
 countries responded but slowly to the increased 
 demand, and then only with a very inferior 
 article, the spinning of which spoiled the ma- 
 chinery. Finally the Confederacy held its en- 
 emy at arm’s length during five times the period 
 every Southern authority had fixed upon as 
 ample in which to establish King Cotton’s su- 
 premacy. Nothing sufficed. An alleged dynasty 
 was fairly and completely dethroned. It was a 
 great game, and the leaders of the Confederacy 
 were skillful gamblers as well as desperate. In 
 that game, so lightly and confidently entered 
 upon, they held what proved to be a large card: 
 but it was not the absolutely decisive card they 
 thought it; and, as is not unusual at the gam- 
 ing table, there proved to be in the hands 
 
276 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 engaged other and more than counterbalancing 
 combinations. The bondsman and nineteenth 
 century self-sacrifice had not been sufficiently 
 taken into account. Conscience carried it over 
 Cotton. 
 
 One more feature in this episode remains to 
 be mentioned; for it was not without its influ- 
 ence on that deep underlying stratum of public 
 opinion which carried the American cause 
 through its crisis. By the tales of misery in 
 patient Lancashire, the sympathies of all Eng- 
 lish-speaking communities had been deeply 
 stirred. Contributions poured in from the re- 
 motest regions of the earth. Within the thir- 
 teen months ending June 380, 18638, charity pro- 
 vided nearly two millions sterling for the relief 
 of distress, in addition to £625,000 derived 
 from the local poor rates. Of gifts in kind. 
 clothing and blankets by the bale, coal by the 
 ton, and flour by the barrel had come in, each 
 in thousands. On the 6th of December John 
 Bright wrote to Mr. Sumner: “I see that some 
 one in the States has proposed to send something 
 to our aid. If a few cargoes of flour could come, 
 say 00,000 barrels, as a gift from persons in 
 your Northern States to the Lancashire work- 
 ingmen, it would have a prodigious effect in 
 your favor here.” As if in magic response to 
 the thought, there now came to the Mersey in 
 
THE COTTON FAMINE 277 
 
 quick succession three food-laden “ relief-ships ”’ 
 from New York, —the Hope, the George Gris- 
 wold,and the Achilles. America then had its 
 own burdens to bear. The amounts expended 
 from public and private sources for the dis- 
 tressed of Lancashire during the fifteen months 
 of famine were computed as reaching the amaz- 
 ing sum of $12,000,000, while the aggregate of 
 loss sustained in wages alone was estimated at 
 fifty millions. These were largeamounts. They 
 implied much suffering of a varied nature. Yet 
 the entire contribution, great and significant as 
 it was, would not have sufficed to cover the ex- 
 penditure and waste involved on the side of the 
 Union alone in a single month of the trans-Atlan- 
 tic struggle then going on; while the sum total 
 whether of human suffering or of pecuniary loss 
 sustained throughout Great Britain because of 
 the cotton famine was less than that endured 
 each fortnight by the combined American peo- 
 ple at home and in the field. That in the midst 
 of such stress — carnage, wounds, and devasta- 
 tion — food by the cargo was forthcoming as a 
 gift from those involved in the real agony of 
 war to those for whom that war had occasioned 
 distress, passing though sharp, was neither un- 
 noticed nor barren of results. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 
 
 MEANWHILE, in the month of September, 
 1862, during the severest stress of the cotton 
 famine, the cause of the Union had in Europe 
 passed its crisis, — that in which the full recog- 
 nition of the Confederacy, and the consequent 
 raising of the blockade through the armed in- 
 tervention of Great Britain and France, were 
 most imminent. The secret history of what 
 then took place, giving to the course of events 
 its final shape, has never as yet been fully re- 
 vealed ; but, though nervously conscious of the 
 imminence of danger, Mr. Adams could only 
 watch the developments, powerless to influence 
 them, except adversely by some act or word 
 on his part a mistake. 
 
 All through the summer of 1862 the min- 
 isters of Napoleon III. were pressing the British 
 government towards recognition, and the utter- 
 ances of English public men of note were be- 
 coming day by day more outspoken and signifi- 
 cant. Of these, some were of little moment; 
 others meant more. It did not much matter, 
 
THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 279 
 
 for instance, that the honest, but ill-balanced 
 and somewhat grotesque, John Arthur Roe- 
 buck, when addressing his constituency at 
 Sheffield on August 8th, referred, in the pre- 
 sence of Lord Palmerston, to the United States 
 as ‘a people that cannot be trusted,” and to 
 the Union army as “the scum and refuse of 
 Europe.” It was not much more to the purpose 
 that he denounced the North as having “ put 
 forward a pretense,” and declared that “they 
 are not fighting against slavery,’ while the 
 whole effort to reunite the country was “an 
 immoral proceeding, totally incapable of suc- 
 cess.” Finally his appeal to “the noble Lord,” 
 then present, “ to weigh well the consequences of 
 what he calls ‘ perfect neutrality,” would not 
 under ordinary circumstances have carried much 
 weight with the Premier. The same may be 
 said of Mr. Beresford-Hope, who, in his ad- 
 dress about the same time to the electors of 
 Stoke-upon-Trent, bewailed the “unhappy in- 
 fatuation ” which had led the North “ to venture 
 its all upon the cast for empire, misnamed lib- 
 erty,” and thus to risk “its own moral degra- 
 dation ;”’ and then pledged himself to vote in 
 Parliament to place “the Confederate States 
 amongst the governments of the world.” Nor 
 was Mr. Lindsay of much greater moment when, 
 at Chertsey, he declared “the question practi- 
 
280 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 cally settled,’ and asked: “Is there one man in 
 a thousand in this country who thinks that the 
 broken Union can be restored?” —then pro- 
 ceeding to denounce “this wicked, this worthless 
 war.” These men, and men like these, carrying 
 with them little weight in life, were speedily 
 forgotten when dead. Not so Mr. Gladstone, 
 who now at Newcastle, on October Tth, was be- 
 trayed into utterances which he was afterwards 
 at much trouble to explain. ‘There is no 
 doubt,”’ he said, amid loud cheers from his au- 
 dience, ‘“‘that Jefferson Davis and other leaders 
 of the South have made an army; they are 
 making, it appears, a navy ; and they have made 
 what is more than either, — they have made a 
 nation. ... . We may anticipate with certainty 
 the success of the Southern States so far as re- 
 gards their separation from the North. I can- 
 not but believe that that event is as certain as 
 any event yet future and contingent can be.” 
 Mr. Gladstone was then chancellor of the ex- 
 chequer ; the date of the utterance was October 
 7th. Both time and utterance were significant ; 
 nor did the latter pass unchallenged. In the 
 Palmerston-Russell ministry Sir George Corne- 
 wall Lewis held the position of secretary of 
 state for war. An able, an upright, and a cour- 
 ageous public man, Sir George Lewis, in direct 
 response to Mr. Gladstone, and almost imme- 
 
THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 281 
 
 diately afterwards, at a meeting at Hereford, 
 on the 14th, while admitting that, in the general 
 opinion of Great Britain, “the contest would 
 issue in the establishment of the independence 
 of the South,” went on to declare that “ it could 
 not be said the Southern States of the Union 
 had de facto established their independence,” 
 or were in a position to be entitled to recogni- 
 tion on any accepted principles of public law. 
 It was not without reason that Mr. Lindsay, 
 referring a few days later to this speech of Sir 
 George Lewis’s, remarked that he had “ reason 
 to believe the barrier that stopped the way [to 
 a recognition of the Confederacy] is not any of 
 the great powers of Europe, — is not the unani- 
 mous cabinet of England, but a section of that 
 cabinet.” 
 
 Such was the fact; and the danger was ex- 
 treme. Lord Palmerston had at last made up 
 his mind that the time had come. Accordingly, 
 on September 14th, he wrote to Earl Russell 
 suggesting a joint offer by Great Britain and 
 France of what is in diplomatic parlance known 
 as “good offices.” This Earl Russell was now 
 quick to approve. He, too, thought the occasion 
 meet. ‘I agree with you,” he wrote in reply to 
 Palmerston on September 17th, “the time is 
 come for offering mediation to the United States 
 government, with a view to the recognition of 
 
282 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 the independence of the Confederates. I agree 
 further that, in case of failure, we ought our- 
 selves to recognize the Southern States as an 
 independent state.’ He went on to suggest an 
 early meeting of the cabinet to pass upon the 
 question. On the 23d the Premier acknow- 
 ledged the note of the foreign secretary, pro- 
 nouncing the plan of the latter “excellent,” 
 adding characteristically : “Of course the offer 
 would be made to both the contending parties at 
 the same time; for, though the offer would be 
 as sure to be accepted by the Southerners as 
 was the proposal of the Prince of Wales to the 
 Danish Princess, yet, in the one case as the 
 other, there are certain forms which it is decent 
 and proper to go through. . . . Might it not be 
 well to ask Russia to join England and France 
 in the offer of mediation? . . . We should be 
 better without her, because she would be too 
 favorable to the North; but, on the other hand, 
 her participation in the offer might render the 
 North more willing to accept it.” The middle 
 of October was the time he suggested for action. 
 Naturally, the two heads of the ministry took it 
 for granted that their concurrence would control 
 its action. It proved otherwise; and hence the 
 great significance of Sir George Lewis’s Here- 
 ford utterances in response to those of Mr. Glad- 
 stone. The difference was pronounced; the 
 
THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 283 
 
 several ministers were admitting the public into 
 their confidence. Lord Russell, however, per- 
 severed. A confidential memorandum, outlin- 
 ing the proposed policy, went out; and a call 
 was issued for a cabinet meeting on October 
 23d, for its consideration. The authority of the 
 two chieftains to the contrary notwithstanding, 
 the division of opinion foreshadowed by the 
 remarks of Sir George Lewis proved so serious 
 that the meeting was not held. The Duke of 
 Argyll and Mr. Milner Gibson were the two 
 most pronounced “* Americans” in the cabinet ; 
 and they received a measured support from Mr. 
 C. P. Villiers and Sir George Lewis. The Con- 
 federate emissaries in London had access to ex- 
 cellent sources of information; far better, in- 
 deed, than those at the command of Mr. Adams. 
 Their organ, a little later, thus referred to the 
 attitude of the government: “On matters of 
 public policy, the cabinet must, in some sense, 
 think alike; there must be a cabinet opinion. 
 . . . Now, on many questions, and especially on 
 the American question, there prevails the great- 
 est disunion of feeling among the members of 
 the cabinet. Some of them sympathize strongly 
 with the Confederate States. . . . Others are 
 devoted to the North. Others, and notably the 
 Prime Minister, care nothing for either party. 
 . . . They do not care to involve themselves in 
 
284 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 any difficulty foreign or domestic, by siding with 
 the Confederates ; and their only wish is to let 
 the matter alone. At present this party practi- 
 cally determines the action, or rather inaction, 
 of the cabinet; which is quite aware that any 
 attempt to have an opinion or lay down a policy 
 in regard to American affairs must be fatal to 
 the very pretense of accord, and to its official 
 existence. Therefore the ministry does nothing, 
 because nothing is the only thing which the dif- 
 ferent sections can agree to do.” The question, 
 so far as Great Britain was concerned, thus 
 from this time forth became one of internal 
 polities, social divisions, and parliamentary ma- 
 jorities. 
 
 Meanwhile, following indications closely, Mr. 
 Adams had in July anticipated some such action 
 of the British and French governments as being 
 then in contemplation ; not yet matured, he felt 
 sure it was in mind. ‘ Mischief to us in some 
 shape,” he wrote, “will only be averted by the 
 favor of Divine providence on our own efforts. 
 I wrote a full dispatch to Mr. Seward.” In 
 that dispatch he asked for further and explicit 
 instructions as to the course he should pursue, 
 if approached by Earl Russell with a tender of 
 ‘‘ good offices.” The response reached him about 
 the middle of August, a few days only after Mr. 
 Roebuck had orated at Sheffield before his con- 
 
THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 285 
 
 stituency and the Prime Minister. So far as 
 explicitness was concerned, the instructions now 
 received were in no way deficient. Carrying the 
 standard entrusted to him high and with a firm 
 hand, the secretary bore himself in a way of 
 which his country had cause to be proud. The 
 paper read in part as follows : — 
 
 “Tf the British government shall in any way 
 approach you directly or indirectly with propo- 
 sitions which assume or contemplate an appeal 
 to the President on the subject of our internal 
 affairs, whether it seem to imply a purpose to 
 dictate, or to mediate, or to advise, or even to 
 solicit or persuade, you will answer that you are 
 forbidden to debate, to hear, or in any way re- 
 ceive, entertain, or transmit any communication 
 of the kind. You will make the same answer 
 whether the proposition comes from the British 
 government alone or from that government in 
 combination with any other power. 
 
 “Tf you are asked an opinion what reception 
 the President would give to such a proposition, 
 if made here, you will reply that you are not 
 instructed, but you have no reason for supposing 
 that it would be entertained. 
 
 “Tf contrary to our expectations the British 
 government, either alone or in combination with 
 any other government, should acknowledge the 
 insurgents, while you are remaining without 
 
286 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 further instructions from this government con- 
 cerning that event, you will immediately sus- 
 pend the exercise of your functions, and give 
 notice of that suspension to Earl Russell and to 
 this department. If the British government 
 make any act or declaration of war against the 
 United States, you will desist from your fune- 
 tions, ask a passport, and return without delay 
 to this capital. I have now in behalf of the 
 United States and by the authority of their 
 chief executive magistrate performed an im- 
 portant duty. Its possible consequences have 
 been weighed, and its solemnity is therefore 
 felt and freely acknowledged. This duty has 
 brought us to meet and confront the danger of 
 a war with Great Britain and other states allied 
 with the insurgents who are in arms for the 
 overthrow of the American Union. You will 
 perceive that we have approached the contem- 
 plation of that crisis with the caution which 
 great reluctance has inspired. But I trust that 
 you will also have perceived that the crisis has 
 not appalled us.” 
 
 Ignorant of the September correspondence 
 between the Prime Minister and the foreign sec- 
 retary, but with this letter of instructions in his 
 desk, Mr. Adams had on October 8th read the 
 report of Mr. Gladstone’s Newcastle speech. 
 “If he,” Mr. Adams wrote, “be any exponent 
 
THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 287 
 
 at all of the views of the cabinet, then is my 
 term likely to be very short.” The next day 
 came more “ indications ;”’ and he added: “We 
 are now passing through the very crisis of our 
 fate. I have had thoughts of seeking a confer- 
 ence with Lord Russell, to ask an explanation of 
 Mr. Gladstone’s position; but, on reflection, I 
 think I shall let a few days at least pass, and 
 then perhaps sound matters incidentally.” 
 Making a visit at this time to the Forsters, 
 than whom, he wrote, ‘no persons in England 
 have inspired me with more respect and regard,” 
 Mr. Adams communicated to his host ‘in con- 
 fidence the substance of my instructions. He 
 thought I ought to make the government aware 
 of them, before they committed themselves.” A 
 few days later came the speech of Sir George 
 Lewis, and Mr. Adams, still anxiously noting 
 the situation, wrote: “I think [Gladstone] 
 overshot the mark;” but he rightly regarded 
 the cabinet meeting then called for the 28d as 
 being decisive of the policy now to be pursued. 
 *‘T so wrote to the government to-day.” 
 Exactly what passed in anticipation of this 
 truly crucial cabinet meeting has remained a 
 state secret. The Palmerston-Russell ministry 
 from the beginning held office by an uncertain 
 tenure; it held it, indeed, through the acquies- 
 cence and silent support of a large element in 
 
288 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 the ranks of the Conservatives, who recognized 
 in the Prime Minister one of themselves. He 
 had outlived opposition, and was now accepted 
 as a species of party compromise. He would 
 remain in office as long as he lived, provided 
 always he presented no strong issue, whether 
 internal or foreign. He understood the situa- 
 tion perfectly, and held parliamentary reform 
 in abeyance, on the one hand, while, on the 
 other, he did not countenance intervention. 
 The moral sentiment of Great Britain on the 
 issue of African slavery was not yet fully 
 aroused, and from all other sides the pressure 
 for recognition and the raising of the blockade 
 was strong. Lord Palmerston, as his correspond- 
 ence with Earl Russell shows, was quite ready 
 to yield to the pressure, had it not involved a 
 break. But it so chanced that it did involve a 
 break ; and the ministerial ranks were not strong 
 enough to stand a break. Sir George Lewis’s 
 utterances, backed by Cobden, Bright, and 
 Forster, were very ominous. Probably consider- 
 ations prevailed then similar to those which two 
 years later led the same two chieftains to a re- 
 luctant acquiescence in a like cautious policy 
 in the Schleswig-Holstein imbroglio. “ As to 
 cabinets,” Lord Palmerston then wrote to Earl 
 Russell, “if we had colleagues like those who 
 sat in Pitt’s cabinet, you and I might have our 
 
THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 289 
 
 own way on most things; but when, as is now 
 the case, able men fill every department, such 
 men will have opinions, and hold to them.” 
 However this may have been, Mr. Adams on 
 the afternoon of October 23d, the date fixed for 
 the canceled cabinet meeting, had an official 
 interview with the foreign secretary, at which, 
 after disposing of some matters of nominal 
 importance, he got to the “real object in 
 the interview.” Referring to the departure of 
 Lord Lyons from London for Washington, he 
 having in reality been detained by the govern- 
 ment until its American policy had been de- 
 cided upon, “I expressed,” Mr. Adams wrote, 
 * the hope that he might be going out for a long 
 time. I had, indeed, been made of late quite 
 fearful that it would be otherwise. If I had en- 
 tirely trusted to the construction given by the 
 public to a late speech, I should have begun to 
 think of packing my carpet-bag and trunks. 
 His Lordship at once embraced the allusion ; 
 and, whilst endeavoring to excuse Mr. Glad- 
 stone, in fact admitted that his act had been 
 regretted by Lord Palmerston and the other 
 cabinet officers.” 
 
 Unknowingly, and with the narrowest possi- 
 ble margin of safety, the crisis had been passed. 
 Three weeks later, Mr. Adams made the follow- 
 ing diary entry : — 
 
290 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 “ Friday, 14th November, 1862 : — Some ex- 
 citement here by the publication of a letter of 
 M. Drouyn de Lhuys, the new minister of for- 
 eign affairs in Paris, proposing to the courts of 
 England and Russia a joint offer of mediation 
 in the American struggle, to begin with an ar- 
 mistice of six months. This letter is dated on 
 the 15th of last month, so that it has probably 
 been already answered by both governments. 
 The general impression here is that it has been 
 declined. I have a letter from Mr. Dayton to- — 
 day, giving the substance of his conference with 
 M. Drouyn de Lhuys, and reporting him as say- 
 ing that in case of the other powers declining 
 nothing would be done. It is nevertheless a 
 strange move.” 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 
 
 In the mean time one of the great events of 
 the century had taken place in America. On 
 September 22d, while the British Prime Minis- 
 ter and foreign secretary were corresponding 
 with a view to the immediate recognition of the 
 “‘slaveholders’ Confederacy,” the Emancipa- 
 tion Proclamation of President Lincoln had 
 been made public. Slavery as an issue in the 
 struggle then going on could no longer be de- 
 nied or ignored. It was there; and it was 
 there to stay. The knot was cut; the shackles 
 were knocked off. 
 
 The ultimate influence of this epochal move 
 in Europe, especially in Great Britain, was im- 
 mense; but, at the moment, it seemed to excite 
 only astonishment, mingled with scorn and hor- 
 ror. It was not even taken seriously. Indeed, 
 a reprint of the editorials of the leading Eng- 
 lish papers of that date would now be a literary 
 curiosity, as well as a most useful vade mecum 
 for the race of ready, editorial writers. An in- 
 structive memorial of human fallibility, it might 
 
292 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 preserve from many future pitfalls. Not a 
 single one of the London journals of 1862 rose 
 to an equality with the occasion. An event oc- 
 curred second in importance to few in the de- 
 velopment of mankind; the knell of human 
 bondage was sounded, and one more relic of 
 barbarism ceased: yet, having eyes they saw 
 not, having ears they did not hear. Purblind 
 and deaf, they only canted and caviled. The 
 tone varied from that of weak apology in the 
 friendly ‘‘ News,” to that of bitter denunciation 
 in the hostile “‘ Post.” The “Times” charac- 
 terized the Proclamation as “a very sad docu- 
 ment,” which the South would “ answer with a 
 hiss of scorn.’ It was instructive merely as 
 “proof of the hopelessness and recklessness” 
 of those responsible for it; while, as an act of 
 policy, it “is, if possible, more contemptible 
 than it is wicked.” The “ Morning Herald” 
 pronounced it “an act of high-handed usurpa- 
 tion,’ with “no legal force whatever.” ... 
 Had “Mr. Davis himself directed the course of 
 his rival, we do not think he could have dic- 
 tated a measure more likely to divide the North 
 and to unite the border States firmly with the 
 South.” The “ Post” remarked: “ It is scarcely 
 possible to treat seriously of this singular mani- 
 festo. If not genuine, the composition would be 
 entitled to no little praise as a piece of match- 
 
THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 293 
 
 less irony.” The “Standard” pronounced the 
 whole thing a “sham” intended ‘to deceive 
 England and Europe” — “the wretched make- 
 shift of a pettifogging lawyer.” The “ Daily 
 Telegraph ” accused President Lincoln and his 
 advisers of having “ fallen back upon the most 
 extravagant yet most commonplace ‘ dodges’ of 
 the faction that placed them in power.” Mean- 
 while, the more kindly disposed “ News” pro- 
 nounced the step thus taken “feeble and halt- 
 ing,’ and gave as its opinion that the Procla- 
 mation had not “the importance which some 
 persons in England are disposed to attach to 
 it.” These extracts are all from the issues of 
 the leading London journals of a single day 
 (October 7, 1862); but they sufficiently illus- 
 trate the tone of thought and the state of feel- 
 ing in which Mr. Adams was then compelled to 
 draw the breath of life. It was bitterly, aggres- 
 sively, vindictively hostile. 
 
 It was another case of people using the same 
 speech, and yet talking in different tongues. 
 Even when he honestly wished so to do, the 
 Englishman could not understand America, or 
 things American ; and now he did not wish to. 
 He had read General Butler’s order No. 28, as 
 he would have read a similar order governing 
 the action of an English soldiery in India or a 
 French soldiery in Spain. It was an invitation 
 
294 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 to outrage. So now he saw in the Proclamation 
 either mere emptiness, or an incitement to ser- 
 vile insurrection. If not, as he believed and 
 hoped, an idle menace, it meant a repetition 
 of the horrors of the Sepoy mutiny, then only 
 four years gone and fresh in English memory, 
 or a renewal on an infinitely larger scale of the 
 unforgettable atrocities of St. Domingo. That 
 by any possibility it should prove in the result 
 what it actually did prove, never at the time 
 dawned on the average cockney brain ; nor, in- 
 deed, did the possessors of that brain welcome 
 the idea when at last it forced its way there. 
 
 It is, in fact, difficult now to realize the lan- 
 guage used in 1862-63 towards the men of the 
 North by Englishmen who professed the most 
 intimate knowledge of them. For instance, a 
 Mr. Cowell, who had at one time lived for sev- 
 eral years in the United States as the represent- 
 ative of no less an institution than the Bank of 
 England, but was now residing in apparent re- 
 tirement at Cannes, in a pamphlet published 
 about this time, in reference to “ points in the 
 Yankee national character which ought to be 
 borne in mind,” thus delivered himself: ‘* The 
 narrow, fanatical, and originally sincere puri- 
 tanism of their ancestors has, in the course of 
 six generations, degenerated into that amalgam 
 of hypocrisy, cruelty, falsehood, unconsciousness 
 
THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 295 
 
 of the faintest sentiments of self-respect, coarse- 
 ness of self-assertion, insensibility to the opin- 
 ions of others, utter callousness to right, bar- 
 barous delight in wrong, and thoroughly moral 
 ruffianism, which is now fully revealed to the 
 world as the genuine Yankee nature; and of 
 which Butler, Seward, etc., who are pure repre- 
 sentative Yankees, afford such finished exam- 
 ples.” And it was from the government of a 
 community of this character that the Emanci- 
 pation Proclamation of 1862 was, among those 
 comprising certain influential classes of British 
 society, supposed to have emanated. 
 
 To Mr. Adams, the adoption of the policy 
 set forth in the Proclamation seemed “ a mere 
 question of time.” It was emancipation through 
 martial law; that solution of the trouble which 
 had been predicted by his father time and again 
 in Congress a quarter of a century before: and 
 now, when at last it came, as he observed the 
 effect of its announcement on his British sur- 
 roundings, his feelings found expression in that 
 stern Puritan speech, characteristic of the stock 
 and of the man. Communing, after his wont 
 with himself, he wrote in his diary: ‘I do not 
 pretend to peer into the future; but this terrible 
 series of calamities appears as a just judgment 
 upon the country for having paltered with the 
 evil so long. (God have mercy on us, miserable 
 offenders! ” 
 
296 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 For a time after the news of the Proclama- 
 tion reached Europe, the friends of the Confed- 
 eracy seemed to have exclusive control of both 
 press and platform. Examples of journalistic 
 utterance have been given ; those of the average 
 gentleman lecturer and member of Parliament 
 were scarcely more discreet. Of the former 
 class, Mr. Beresford-Hope energetically charac- 
 terized the Proclamation as “ this hideous out- 
 burst of weak yet demoniacal spite,” and “ the 
 most unparalleled last card ever played by a 
 reckless gambler.” Of the latter class, Mr. 
 Lindsay hastened to declare that :— “ Instead of 
 being a humane proclamation, it was, in fact, a 
 specimen of the most horrible barbarity, and a 
 more terrible proclamation than had ever been 
 issued in any part of the world.” A Mr. Pea- 
 cocke, member from North Essex, towards the 
 close of October, at a great Conservative de- 
 monstration at Colchester, went even further than 
 Mr. Lindsay, declaring of the Proclamation that, 
 if it “was worth anything more than the paper 
 on which it was inscribed, and if the four mil- 
 lions of blacks were really to be emancipated on 
 January 1st, then we should be prepared to wit- 
 ness a carnage so bloody that even the horrors of 
 the Jacquerie and the massacres of Cawnpore 
 would wax pale in comparison. . . . The eman- 
 cipation proclamation, even if it had been in the 
 
THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 297 
 
 interest of the negro, would have been a political 
 crime; but when we reflect that it was put forth, 
 not in the interest of the negro or of civilization, 
 but that it was merely a vindictive measure of 
 spite and retaliation upon nine millions of whites 
 struggling for their independence, it was one 
 of the most devilish acts of fiendish malignity 
 which the wickedness of man could ever have 
 conceived.” The distress of these gentlemen 
 should have been greatly alleviated when, at 
 about this time, the special correspondent of 
 the “ Times,” writing from the Confederacy on 
 the effect of the Proclamation, but exercising the 
 common capacity for self-deception to another 
 end, gravely assured the British public that, — 
 “ Acvain and again the slaves have fled from the 
 Yankee army into the swamp to escape a com- 
 pulsory freedom ; and there is abundant evidence 
 that if a being so morally weak and nerveless as 
 the African could be made to fight for anything, 
 he would fight for slavery much rather than for 
 liberty.” 
 
 A few days later, with characteristic blunt- 
 ness, Mr. Bright said in a letter, “I applaud 
 the proclamation ;” and for the United States to 
 emerge from the contest leaving “the slave still 
 a slave will expose [it] to the contempt of the 
 civilized world.” The Confederate organ in 
 
 1 London Times, December 1, 1862. 
 
298 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 London, commenting on this letter, spoke with 
 measurable accuracy when it announced in reply 
 that ““every organ of a considerable party ” 
 pronounced the edict ‘“‘ infamous,” and that a 
 similar opinion of it was entertained by “ every 
 educated and nearly every uneducated English- 
 man.” 
 
 But, as the weeks went on they at last brought 
 with them significant indications of a deep un- 
 dercurrent of opposing sentiment; and on Jan- 
 uary 2, 1863, a gentleman from Manchester — 
 the great city of Lancashire, and the centre of 
 the cotton famine, then at its worst — called on 
 Mr. Adams, bringing him a copy of an address 
 to the President from a meeting of workingmen 
 held on the last day of the previous year. “I 
 was glad to seize the occasion to express my 
 satisfaction with it,” wrote Mr. Adams. ‘ It 
 was quite a strong manifestation of good feel- 
 ing. There certainly is much sympathy felt 
 in the lower classes, but little or none by the 
 upper.” On the 16th a committee called to 
 present the resolutions of the British Emanci- 
 pation Society on the Proclamation, which had 
 been confirmed as finally operative by the mails 
 of three days before. Even then, so dubious 
 was the chairman of the organization as to the 
 effect of the step on public opinion, that he 
 evinced a strong disposition to defer action. 
 
THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 299 
 
 But, wrote Mr. Adams, “later in the day, 
 [when] the committee came, it proved so numer- 
 ous and respectable that I heard no more of 
 Mr. Evans’s seruple. He, as chairman, pre- 
 sented to me the resolutions; after which Mr. 
 P. A. Taylor, member of Parliament from 
 Leicester, the Rev. Baptist Noel, Rev. Newman 
 Hall, and Mr. Jacob Bright made some remarks, 
 all expressive of earnest sympathy with Amer- 
 ica in the present struggle. There can be hittle 
 doubt that now is the time to strike the popular 
 heart here; and the effect may be to checkmate 
 the movement of the aristocracy.” In other 
 words, Mr. Adams was now working on the very 
 elements in Great Britain which, two years be- 
 fore at Montgomery, B. C. Yancey had pointed 
 out to his brother as fatal to the chances for 
 recognition of “a slaveholders’ Confederacy.” 
 
 Soon the addresses began to pour into the 
 Legation in a steady and ever-swelling stream. 
 “It is clear,” wrote Mr. Adams, “ that the cur- 
 rent is now setting strongly with us among the 
 body of the people. This may be quite useful 
 on the approach of the session of Parliament ;”’ 
 or, as B. C. Yancey had expressed it: “ Suffrage 
 had not then been enlarged to reach the labor- 
 ing classes, but the government was scarcely 
 less respectful of their wishes on that account.” 
 On January 29th a meeting was held in Exeter 
 
300 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Hall, “reported as one of the most extraordi- 
 nary ever made in London,” proving to Mr. 
 Adams “ conclusively the spirit of the middle 
 classes here as well as elsewhere.” For the 
 first time since he had been in England, he had 
 the cheering consciousness of sympathy and 
 support. “ It will not change the temper of the 
 higher classes,” he wrote, “ but it will do some- 
 thing to moderate the manifestation of it.” 
 Four days later the delegation from the Exeter 
 Hall meeting called to present the address. “I 
 received them,” wrote Mr. Adams, “in my din- 
 ing-room, which was very full. The body 
 seemed to be clergy ; but all looked substantial 
 and respectable. The chairman made some re- 
 marks explanatory of the difficulties previously 
 in the way of a movement of this kind. Then 
 came remarks from different speakers, some 
 very good, and others quite flat; [but] there 
 was no mistaking the tone, which was strong 
 and hearty in sympathy with us. I think there 
 can be little doubt that the popular current now 
 sets in our favor. They left me with hearty 
 shakes of the hand, that marked the existence 
 of an active feeling at bottom. It was not the 
 lukewarmness and indifference of the aristo- 
 eracy, but the genuine English heartiness of 
 good-will.” | 
 
 The organ of the Prime Minister at this time 
 
THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 301 
 
 editorially referred to the Exeter Hall meeting 
 as “a great disgrace to the Christian religion, 
 and an egregious blunder as a step towards 
 emancipation.” ! In so doing, it voiced the sen- 
 timents of the ruling class. Cobden voiced 
 those of the laboring classes ; and Cobden now 
 wrote to Sumner: — “I know nothing in my 
 political experience so striking, as a display of 
 spontaneous public action, as that of the vast 
 gathering at Exeter Hall, when, without one 
 attraction in the form of a popular orator, the 
 vast building, its minor rooms and passages, and 
 the streets adjoining, were crowded with an 
 enthusiastic audience. That meeting has had a 
 powerful effect on our newspapers and _politi- 
 cians. It has closed the mouths of those who 
 have been advocating the side of the South. 
 And I now write to assure you that any un- 
 friendly act on the part of our government — 
 no matter which of our aristocratic parties is in 
 power — towards your cause is not to be appre- 
 hended. If an attempt were made by the goy- 
 ernment in any way to commit us to the South, 
 a spirit would be instantly aroused which would 
 drive that government from power.” The tri- 
 bune of the British people and the organ of the 
 Prime Minister of England thus saw the thing 
 from different points of view. The result shortly 
 1 The Morning Post, Saturday, 31st January, 1863. 
 
302 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 showed which was right. From this time on 
 nothing but an outburst of patriotic, warlike 
 passion, provoked by some untoward incident 
 like that of the Trent, could have sufficed to | 
 master the rising voice of English conscience. 
 It was the final demonstration of the soundness 
 of the advice his brother gave Mr. Yancey, two 
 years before, so often already alluded to:— 
 “Unless the (Confederate) government should 
 send a Commission (to Europe) authorized to 
 offer commercial advantages so liberal that the 
 Exeter Hall influence could not withstand them, 
 the British government, however well disposed, 
 would not venture to run counter to the anti- 
 slavery feeling by recognition of the Confederate 
 States.” Cobden and Bright, B. C. Yancey had 
 added, were the leaders of the laboring classes ; 
 and “Cobden and Bright would oppose the 
 recognition of a slaveholders’ Confederacy.” 4 
 Parliament assembled February 5th, only two 
 days after the Exeter Hall delegation had pre- 
 sented the address to Mr. Adams, and six days 
 before Mr. Cobden wrote to Mr. Sumner, setting 
 forth its significance. ‘“ The most marked in- 
 dication,” wrote Mr. Adams, “ respecting Amer- 
 ican affairs, was the course of Lord Derby and 
 Mr. D’Israeli [in] the debate on the address, 
 which decidedly discouraged movement. On 
 
 1 Life and Times of W. L. Yancey, 588, 589. 
 
THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 303 
 
 their minds the effect of the President’s procla- 
 mation on public sentiment here has not been 
 lost.” Nor had its effect on that sentiment 
 been lost on the “ Times.” The utterances of 
 the ‘“* Thunderer” on the contrary were now 
 more than ever significant, and expressive of 
 the views of those among whom it circulated. 
 Read in the light of forty years after, they have 
 an interest still : — 
 
 “Though there is little homage to principle 
 in the President’s proclamation, any attempt on 
 the part of the American government, however 
 tardily, reluctantly, and partially made, to 
 emancipate any portion of the negro race, must 
 have an effect on the opinion of mankind, and 
 tend to what we have never doubted would in 
 some way or other be the final result of this 
 war, the abolition of slavery. But our exulta- 
 tion is by no means without misgivings... . 
 If the blacks are to obtain the freedom he pro- 
 mises them, it must be by their own hands. 
 They must rise upon a more numerous, more in- 
 telligent, better-armed, and braver community 
 of whites, and exterminate them, their wives 
 and children, by fire and sword. The President 
 of the United States may summon them to this 
 act, but he is powerless to assist them ‘in its ex- 
 ecution. Nay, this is the very reason why they 
 are summoned. ... Mr. Lincoln bases his act 
 
304 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 on military necessity, and invokes the consider- 
 ate judgment of mankind and the judgment of 
 Almighty God. He has characterized his own 
 act; mankind will be slow to believe that an 
 act avowedly the result of military considera- 
 tions has been dictated by a sincere desire for 
 the benefit of those who, under the semblance 
 of emancipation, are thus marked out for de- 
 struction, and He who made man in His own 
 image can scarcely, we may presume to think, 
 look with approbation on a measure which, un- 
 der the pretense of emancipation, intends to re- 
 duce the South to the frightful condition of St. 
 Domingo. . . . In the midst of violent party 
 divisions, in ostentatious contempt of the Con- 
 stitution, with the most signal ill success in war, 
 he is persisting in the attempt to conquer a na- 
 tion, to escape whose victorious arms is the only 
 triumph which his generals seem capable of 
 gaining. Hvery consideration of patriotism and 
 policy calls upon him to put an end to the hope- 
 less contest, but he considers the ruin is not 
 deep enough, and so he calls to his aid the ex- 
 ecrable expedient of a servile insurrection. 
 Egypt is destroyed ; but his heart is hardened, 
 and he will not let the people go.” 
 
 And thus the slave-owners, and not the slaves, 
 were in London, in the early days of 1863, 
 likened unto the children of Israel escaping 
 
THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 305 
 
 from the land of bondage ; while Abraham Lin- 
 coln figured, somewhat incongruously, as the 
 great and only American Pharaoh! As he read 
 day by day these effusions of vindictive cant and 
 simulated piety, it is small matter for surprise 
 that, restrained in expression as he habitually 
 was, Mr. Adams impatiently broke out in his 
 diary: “ Thus it is that the utter hollowness of 
 the former indignation against America for up- 
 holding slavery is completely exposed. *The 
 motives of that censure, as for the present emo- 
 tion, are jealousy, fear, and hatred. It is im- 
 possible for me to express the contempt I feel 
 for a nation which exhibits itself to the world 
 and posterity in this guise. It is a complete 
 forfeiture of the old reputation for manliness 
 and honesty.” 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 THE ALABAMA AND THE ‘“‘ LAIRD RAMS” 
 
 Captain JAMES H. Buwwocn, formerly of 
 the United States navy, but later the duly ac- 
 credited naval agent in Europe of the Confed- 
 eracy, had at this time long been busy negotiat- 
 ing with the shipbuilders and shipowners of 
 Great Britain, and sending out to the Confed- 
 erate ports large consignments of munitions of 
 war. Coming direct from Montgomery, he had 
 reached Liverpool on June 4, 1861. Through 
 his indefatigable efforts, the keel of the Oreto, 
 afterwards famous as the Florida, had, within a 
 month of his arrival, been laid; and, on August 
 1st following, he closed a contract with the 
 Messrs. Laird, large Liverpool shipwrights, for 
 the construction of the Alabama, or “290,” as 
 she was called, that number simply designating 
 her order among the vessels constructed in the 
 Laird yards at Birkenhead. The Alabama was 
 not launched until the 15th of May, 1862. She 
 was then put in course of rapid preparation for 
 sea. 
 
 The purpose for which the “290” was de- 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 307 
 
 signed was at Liverpool matter of common town 
 talk. She was to be a Confederate commerce- 
 destroyer. The British Foreign Enlistment Act 
 had been examined by counsel on behalf of the 
 Confederate agent, and its provisions riddled. 
 There was no question whatever that the act 
 was designed to provide against the fitting out 
 of warlike expeditions in the ports of Great 
 Britain, and especially to prevent those ports 
 being made the base of naval operations against 
 friendly powers; or, in the language of the en- 
 actment, “the fitting out, equipping, and arming 
 of vessels for warlike operations.” Counsel 
 learned in the law now, however, advised that 
 there was nothing in the act which made illegal 
 the building of a warship as one operation ; 
 and nothing which prevented the purchase of 
 the arms and munitions to equip such vessel, 
 when built, as another operation. But the two 
 must be kept distinctly separate. If, then, hav- 
 ing been thus kept separate, they subsequently 
 came together, this combination constituted no 
 violation of the law, provided the result —a 
 man-of-war, armed, equipped, and in every way 
 ready for service — was brought about in some 
 foreign waters more than one marine league 
 from the British coast. Subsequently this con- 
 struction of the statute was gravely propounded 
 in Parliament by ministers and law repre- 
 
308 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 sentatives of the crown, and, at last, for- 
 mally laid down for the guidance of juries by 
 the Lord Chief Baron of the Court of Exchequer. 
 Obviously, the law and its administration were 
 together brought into contempt; and any goy- 
 ernment official, from the Prime Minister down, 
 who might endeavor to enforce the manifest in- 
 tent of the statute, or honestly to regard the 
 international obligations of the country, must do 
 so at his peril, and with a distinct understand- 
 ing that any jury before which the case might 
 be brought would find heavy damages against 
 him. The construction of vessels, built avowedly 
 for war purpose, and designed as Confederate 
 commerce-destroyers, seemed, therefore, likely 
 to prove an industry at once safe and lucrative. 
 If a delivery to the party ordering them was 
 prevented, the government would have to in- 
 demnify every one. 
 
 Naturally, this extremely technical and thor- 
 oughly characteristic construction of the Neu- 
 trality Act failed to commend itself to the repre- 
 sentatives of the United States in Great Britain. 
 That it was at the time highly acceptable to the 
 Parliament, the press, and the moneyed and com- 
 mercial classes of that country was apparent. It 
 was looked upon also as an exceeding good joke. 
 Indeed, it had its side of broad humor. The pas- 
 sengers on English packets, which a little later 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS _ 309 
 
 fell in with the Alabama, cheered her vociferously 
 and to the echo. Was she not a Mersey-built 
 ship, armed with English guns, manned by Brit- 
 ish sailors? She was destroying the commerce 
 of the United States ; and yet in her construction 
 and equipment, judge, counsel, and ministers 
 were all agreed that no law had been violated, nor 
 had any disregard been shown to Her Majesty’s 
 Proclamation of Neutrality. The Yankee had 
 on this occasion at least been fairly outwitted. 
 None the less, while the shipbuilders, the law- 
 yers, and the government officials were busy over 
 the preliminaries of this elaborate international 
 burlesque, and before the final perpetration of 
 the joke, the gradual completion of the “ 290” 
 was watched with sleepless eyes by Mr. Dudley, 
 the very efficient United States consul at Liver- 
 pool, and Mr. Adams was kept fully advised as 
 to her state of preparation. He, in his turn, 
 bombarded the Foreign Office with depositions 
 and other evidence in regard to her. These 
 Her Majesty’s government had under constant 
 consideration ; but they were uniformly advised 
 by the crown lawyers that a sufficient case 
 against the vessel had not been made out. 
 Captain Bulloch, meanwhile, was fully in- 
 formed as to the movements of Mr. Dudley and 
 Mr. Adams, and prepared to balk them. The 
 erew of the Enrica, as the ‘290 ” was called, was 
 
310 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 engaged, but not all shipped, lest their num- 
 ber and indiscreet talk should attract notice, 
 furnishing further evidence against her. She 
 was to meet her consort, carrying her muni- 
 tions and armament, including an additional 
 supply of coal, in the Azores, at the Bay of 
 Praya. No precautions calculated to evade the 
 provisions of law had been omitted. 
 
 In July, 1862, heavy military reverses both in 
 Virginia and Tennessee had followed the Union 
 successes of the spring of that year, and the 
 spirits of those sympathizing with the Confeder- 
 ates, a vast majority of the English people, had 
 so rallied that Mr. Adams well-nigh despaired 
 of being able much longer to counteract the 
 hostile influences. “ There is not,’ he despond- 
 ingly wrote, ‘“‘ much disguise now in the temper 
 of the authorities.” As to the government 
 ‘authorities ” at Liverpool, there was certainly 
 
 o “ disguise,” or pretense even of “ disguise,” 
 so far as their individual sympathies were con- 
 cerned. They were pronounced in their Con- 
 federate leanings ; though, as matter of course, 
 the usual protestations were made as respects the 
 impartial performance of what in such cases is 
 usually denominated “ duty.”’ Unfortunately, it 
 was not a question of common town talk or pub- 
 lic notoriety ; for probably not one human being — 
 in Liverpool who had given any attention to the 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 311 
 
 matter questioned for an instant that the war- 
 vessels then under forced construction at Birken- 
 head were intended for the service of the Con- 
 federacy. On this head the collector of the 
 port, Mr. S. Price Edwards, unquestionably 
 entertained as little doubt as either the Laird 
 Brothers or Captain Bulloch. When, however, 
 it came to evidence of the fact, the man willfully 
 shut his eyes, and would not be convinced by 
 anything possible to obtain. The imputation 
 and strong circumstance which led directly to 
 the door of proof were nothing to Mr. Edwards ; 
 he wanted ocular demonstration, and that of 
 course Mr. Dudley could not furnish. It was 
 afterwards suggested by high authority that the 
 American agents should have then gone directly 
 to the Messrs. Laird, and asked them frankly if 
 they did not propose to violate the law; and, in 
 such case, “‘ the high character of these gentle- 
 men would doubtless have insured either a refus- 
 al to answer or a truthful answer.”! This ex- 
 tremely ingenuous method of procedure probably 
 never occurred to Consul Dudley ; and, on his 
 side, the collector would seem to have deemed 
 nothing short of the open admission of a crimi- 
 nal intent by the parties in interest as sufficient. 
 Imputations of corruption were subsequently 
 
 1 Opinion of Sir Alexander Cockburn in the Geneva arbi- 
 tration. Papers Relating to the Treaty of Washington, iv. 453, 
 
312 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 current, involving Mr. Edwards; and it was 
 even whispered that he was the “private but 
 most reliable source”? from which the Confed- 
 erate agents received the confidential intima- 
 tions which enabled the Alabama to escape de- 
 tention. There is no evidence whatever that 
 such was the case. On the contrary, Mr. Col- 
 lector Edwards would appear to have been simply 
 an honest but obtuse man, of decided Confeder- 
 ate proclivities, who thought to protect him- 
 self against official responsibility by insisting 
 on the impossible. It is doubtful, however, 
 whether even he could have had the effrontery 
 to propose to the American consul the unique 
 method of securing evidence afterwards sug- 
 gested by Lord Chief Justice Cockburn. While 
 the statute law of the realm was unquestionably 
 being turned into a manifest farce, everything 
 was done gravely and in an orderly way; and it 
 would have been manifestly unbecoming to in- 
 ject into the performance at its then stage 
 broad practical jokes of a distinctly side-split- 
 ting character. 
 
 It is not necessary here to enter into a detailed 
 account of what now took place, and the efforts, 
 strenuous and sustained, put forth by Mr. Adams 
 to induce the British government to respect its 
 own laws and its treaty obligations. .The ground 
 has since that time been most thoroughly tray- 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 313 
 
 ersed, and the printed matter relating to it 
 amounts to a literature in itself. It is sufficient 
 to say that not only did British ministries repre- 
 senting both parties in the state subsequently 
 concede that the course then pursued by those 
 responsible for the government could not be 
 justified, but Earl Russell himself within a year, 
 and while still foreign secretary, admitted to 
 Mr. Adams that the case of the Alabama was a 
 ‘“‘scandal,” and, ‘‘in some degree, a reproach ” 
 to the laws of Great Britain. Finally, while as 
 a history the work of James F. Rhodes is marked 
 by a sobriety of tone not less commendable than 
 the good temper and thoroughness of research 
 throughout evinced in it, yet when he came to 
 making a summary of the performances connected 
 with this incident, that grave author felt moved 
 to remark that, while to do justice to them ‘‘ com- 
 pletely baffles the descriptive pen of the histo- 
 rian,’ they would have been most useful and sug- 
 gestive “to the writer of an opera-bouffe libretto, 
 or to Dickens for his account of the Circumlocu- 
 tion Office.” 4 
 
 It is sufficient here to say that after represen- 
 tation on representation, accompanied by endless 
 documents and affidavits, designed to prove that 
 which every one knew, had been for months for- 
 warded to the Foreign Office, and there pro- 
 
 1 History of the United States, iv. 88. 
 
314 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 nounced defective or inadequate, the American 
 minister on July 23d “addressed another com- 
 munication to Lord Russell, so that the refusal to 
 act may be made as marked as possible.”’ Two 
 days earlier, on the 21st, Collector Edwards had 
 by letter notified the Commissioners of Customs 
 at London that “the ship appears to be ready 
 for sea, and may leave at any hour she pleases.” 
 Directly appealed to by the American consul, 
 the Commissioners of Customs, on the 238d, with 
 this letter of their Liverpool subordinate before 
 them, declined to act. This was on Wednesday. 
 Before the close of the week the papers from 
 the Foreign Office relating to the case, covering 
 ‘“‘ evidence strong and conclusive’ in the words 
 of Mr. Adams, and backed by “a still stronger 
 opinion”? of leading English counsel, had, in 
 the bandying process, reached the table of the 
 Queen’s advocate, Sir John Harding. He just 
 then broke down from nervous tension, and 
 thereafter became hopelessly insane. His wife, 
 anxious to conceal from the world knowledge of 
 her husband’s condition, allowed the package to 
 lie undisturbed on his desk for three days, — 
 days which entailed the destruction of the Amer- 
 ican merchant marine ; and it was on the first of 
 these days, Saturday, July 26, 1862, that Captain 
 Bulloch, at Liverpool, ‘received information 
 from a private but most reliable source that it 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS _ 315 
 
 would not be safe to leave the ship at Liverpool 
 another forty-eight hours.” On the following 
 Monday accordingly the Alabama, alias the 
 “© 290,” alias the “‘ Enrica,” was taken out of 
 dock, and, under pretense of making an additional 
 trial trip, steamed, dressed in flags, down the 
 Mersey, with a small party of guests on board. 
 It is needless to say she did not return. The 
 party of guests were brought back on a tug, 
 and the Enrica, now fully manned, was, on the 
 dist, off the north coast of Ireland, headed sea- 
 ward in heavy weather. A grave international 
 issue had been raised, destined to endure and 
 be discussed throughout the next ten years. 
 Shortly before the “ 290,” subsequently world- 
 renowned as the Alabama, thus evaded the ex- 
 tremely sluggish crown officials, instructions had 
 reached Captain Bulloch from the Confederate 
 naval department forthwith to contract for two 
 ironclad ships of war, of the most formidable 
 description then built; and the sum of one mil- 
 lion dollars in cash had been placed at his dis- 
 posal to be used in payment for the same. This 
 sum, it was promised, should, later on, be in- 
 creased by an equal amount. Contracts were 
 at once closed with the firm of Laird Brothers, 
 and by the middle of July, 1862, work on both 
 ships had fairly begun. Fully equipped for sea, 
 but without batteries or munitions of war, these 
 
316 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ships were to cost £98,750 each, and they were 
 to be ready, the one of them in March and the 
 other in May, 1863. Naval architecture at that 
 time was developing rapidly. Five years later, 
 in July, 1867, Mr. Adams attended the great - 
 naval review at Portsmouth in honor of the 
 Sultan of Turkey, and, among the ironclad, tur- 
 reted leviathans there arrayed, one of the two 
 famous “ Laird rams” was pointed out to him. 
 Her day was already gone; “as I looked on 
 the little mean thing,” he wrote, “I could not 
 help a doubt whether she was really worthy of 
 all the anxiety she had cost us.” None the less, 
 built on the most approved models of that time, 
 and designed to be equipped with formidable 
 batteries and every modern appliance of war, 
 the Laird rams were naval creations with which 
 neither steam wooden ships nor the monitors 
 in use in 1863 could successfully cope. With 
 the rams, acting in concert, it was intended to 
 break and raise the blockade of the Southern 
 ports, and thus secure for the Confederacy for- 
 eign recognition. If necessary to secure this 
 result, New York and Boston were to be in- 
 vaded, and those cities put under requisition. 
 This scheme, as feasible apparently as it was 
 dangerous, it devolved on Mr. Adams to balk, if 
 in any way possible. Its success involved a for- 
 elgn war. 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 317 
 
 Meanwhile the experience of the Alabama 
 showed how difficult the task before him was, and 
 the agents of the United States were in a 
 condition of complete discouragement. The 
 Queen’s proclamation to the contrary notwith- 
 standing, parties in Great Britain were en- 
 gaged in both constructing and equipping a 
 formidable Confederate navy. Nevertheless, 
 though the life had been construed out of the 
 statute, and the agents of the United States 
 were in a demoralized condition, these last 
 kept Mr. Adams well advised of everything 
 going on, and the consequent pressure brought 
 steadily to bear on the Foreign Office was by 
 no means unproductive of results. In 1863 the 
 Alabama was in her full career of destruction, 
 and so much of the American merchant marine 
 as was not sent in flames to the bottom was fast 
 seeking protection under foreign flags. Witha 
 view to increasing the pressure, therefore, Mr. 
 Adams now formally opened his long and mem- 
 orable Alabama correspondence with Earl Rus- 
 sell. While work was actively going on in the 
 Birkenhead yards, the receipt of controversial 
 dispatches served as a constant reminder to the 
 Foreign Office, both of its proven shortcomings 
 in the past and its possible future delinquencies. 
 As to neither was Earl Russell to be given rest. 
 In March, 18638, this correspondence was pub- 
 
318 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 lished in the London papers, and much com- 
 mented upon. That Great Britain should be 
 asked to pay for the ruin wrought by the 
 commerce-destroyers let loose on a friendly na- 
 tion through her lax administration of her own 
 laws, was a new view of the subject, —a view 
 also which, at this stage of proceedings, savored, 
 to the average British mind, of what they loved 
 to refer to as ‘‘ Yankee ”’ impudence and “ cute- 
 ness.” A huge joke, even Captain Raphael 
 Semmes, C. S. N., commanding the Alabama, 
 stopped in the midst of his burnings to enjoy — 
 a quiet laugh over it. “That ‘little bill,’” he 
 wrote from Bahia to Captain Bulloch, on May 
 21, 1863, ‘“‘ which the Yankees threaten to pre- 
 sent to our Uncle John Bull, for the depre- 
 dations of the Alabama, is growing apace, and 
 already reaches $3,100,000.” The ‘“ Yankee” 
 has not generally been deemed deficient in a 
 sense of humor; but this joke, of an intensely 
 practical kind, he failed to appreciate; and 
 so war between the two countries was now 
 regarded as imminent, and the great mercan- 
 tile houses of London were taking precautions 
 accordingly. Mr. Adams, however, did not de- 
 spair. ‘I shall,” he wrote, as he noted down 
 the gathering indications, “do my best to avoid 
 it.” It was the dark hour of the long night; 
 but, for him, it preceded the dawn. 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 319 
 
 The pinch now came. More and more clearly 
 the issue of the American struggle depended on 
 the blockade. On the other hand, the machin- 
 ery for breaking the blockade was almost per- 
 fected. Owing to delays in construction at first, 
 and later to complications growing out of legal 
 proceedings instituted by Mr. Adams in other 
 similar cases, the first of the two rams was not 
 launched until July 4th, instead of in March, as 
 had been originally agreed ; and the other was 
 delayed until the end of August. Early in Sep- 
 tember Mr. Adams forwarded fresh represen- 
 tations. The work for which the vessels were 
 designed was matter of notoriety; but still the 
 government “could find no evidence upon which 
 to proceed in stopping”’ them. How much the 
 government of Jefferson Davis counted on the 
 shrewd stroke thus ‘in preparation for the 
 “Yankee,” and the importance they gave to it, 
 — greater than that set on any victory in the 
 field, — was shown in the references to the rams 
 of Mr.S. R. Mallory, who in the Richmond cabi- 
 net held the position of secretary of the navy. 
 Writing to Mr. Slidell, in Paris, on the 27th of 
 March, 1863, Mr. Mallory said: ‘Our early 
 possession of these ships, in a condition for ser- 
 vice, is an object of such paramount importance 
 to our country that no effort, no sacrifice, must 
 be spared to accomplish it. Whatever may be 
 
320 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 the conditions of placing them at our command 
 will be promptly met.” A year later, when 
 the action of the British government in detain- 
 ing the rams proved to be final, Mr. Mallory 
 wrote concerning the event to Captain Bulloch 
 in language which sounded like a wail. He 
 referred to it as “a great national misfor- 
 tune,” and spoke of his own hopes, “shared by 
 thousands around me,” as ‘ prostrated by the 
 intelligence.” He then dwelt on “the bitterness 
 of his disappointment.”” Had the Confederate 
 government, President Davis in his turn de- 
 clared, been successful in getting those vessels 
 to sea, ‘it would have swept from the ocean the 
 commerce of the United States [and] would 
 have raised the blockade of at least some of our 
 ports.” 
 
 Those in charge of the navy of the Union and 
 coast defenses of the United States were cor- 
 respondingly alarmed. As the result of careful 
 inquiry, they described the two ships as “ of the 
 most formidable character, and equal, except in 
 size, to the best ironclads belonging to” the 
 British government. So urgent was the occa- 
 sion deemed that two private gentlemen of high 
 character and reputation for business and execu- 
 tive capacity were secretly sent out to England 
 at the shortest possible notice to outbid the 
 Confederacy, if possible, and buy the ships for 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 321 
 
 the United States. Ten millions of dollars in 
 freshly issued government bonds were put in 
 their hands to be used as they saw fit for this 
 purpose. Diplomatically, it was a most danger- 
 ous course, as the United States now proposed 
 secretly to do just what its accredited re- 
 presentative in Great Britain was strenuously 
 claiming that the Confederacy had no right to 
 do. The emergency alone could justify the 
 proceeding; but the emergency was thought 
 to be extreme. “You must stop [the Laird 
 rams] at all hazards,” wrote Captain Fox, the 
 assistant secretary of the navy, “‘as we have 
 no defense againstthem. Let us have them for 
 our own purposes, without any more nonsense, 
 and at any price. As to guns, we have not one 
 in the whole country fit to fire at an ironclad. 
 . . . It is a question of life and death.” No- 
 thing came of this dangerous mission, as the 
 two emissaries, being shrewd and practical men, 
 soon became satisfied that to “ offer to buy the 
 ironclads without success, would only be to 
 stimulate the builders to greater activity, and 
 even to building new ones in the expectation of 
 finding a market for them from one party or 
 the other.” They therefore, like the American 
 officials in Europe, quite discouraged, returned 
 home before the ironclads were launched, 
 bringing with them the greater part of their 
 
322 — CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ten millions of bonds, which were taken back to 
 Washington “in the original packages, with the 
 seals of the Treasury unbroken.” ! Mr. Adams 
 was prudently kept uninformed as to the errand 
 of these gentlemen and the steps they took in 
 pursuance of it. 
 
 His own instructions from the State De- 
 partment were at this crisis explicit. As re- 
 spects also the course the United States gov- 
 ernment proposed in certain contingencies to 
 pursue, they left no room for doubt. In line 
 of thought and even in expression, they fol- 
 lowed closely the memorable dispatches Nos. 4 
 and 10 of April and May, 1861. “If the law 
 of Great Britain . . . be construed by the gov- 
 ernment in conformity with the rulings of the 
 chief baron of the exchequer, then there will be 
 left for the United States no alternative but to 
 protect themselves and their commerce against 
 armed cruisers proceeding from British ports, 
 as against the naval forces of a public enemy. 
 . . . Can it be an occasion for either surprise 
 or complaint that, if this condition of things is 
 to remain and receive the deliberate sanction of 
 the British government, the navy of the United 
 
 1 Hughes, Letters and Recollections of J. M. Forbes, ii. 1-66 ; 
 Chittenden, Recollections of President Lincoln, i. 194-211; 
 Proceedings of Massachusetts Historical Society, Second Series, 
 xiii. 177-179. aay 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 323 
 
 States will receive instructions to pursue: these 
 enemies into the ports which thus, in violation 
 of the law of nations and the obligations of 
 neutrality, become harbors for the pirates? The 
 President very distinctly perceives the risks and 
 hazards which a naval conflict thus maintained 
 will bring to the commerce and even to the 
 peace of the two countries. . . . If, through the 
 necessary employment of all our means of 
 national defense, such a partial war shall become 
 a general one between the two nations, the 
 President thinks that the responsibility for that 
 painful result will not fall upon the United 
 States.” 
 
 With dispatches of this character on his table 
 Mr. Adams, as the weeks rolled by, watched anx- 
 iously the dreaded vessels nearing completion. 
 Work in the yards of the Laird Brothers had 
 been pushed steadily forward all through the win- 
 ter, sheds lighted with gas having been erected 
 over the rams so as to insure additional hours of 
 labor upon them. But, alarmed by the depreda- 
 tions of the Alabama and the demands of the 
 United States government on account thereof, 
 the British officials were now exercising a de- 
 gree of surveillance which caused Captain Bul- 
 loch much anxiety; and, before the close of 
 1862, he expressed himself as apprehensive of 
 great difficulty in getting the vessels out of Brit- 
 
324 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ish jurisdiction. This apprehension increased 
 steadily. The object for which armored ships, 
 provided with formidable steel beaks, must be 
 intended, was too evident to admit of dis- 
 guise ; and Captain Bulloch, confessing himself 
 “much perplexed,” became satisfied at last that 
 the government was prepared to resort to an 
 order in council to override the ordinary rules of 
 law. So great was the sympathy in Liverpool and 
 vicinity that he felt quite confident of his ability 
 to overcome “all ordinary opposition;” and 
 he assured the Confederate secretary that “ no 
 mere physical obstruction could have prevented 
 our ships getting out, partially equipped at 
 least.” But Earl Russell had been irritated by 
 the evasion of the ‘ 290,” of which it had even 
 been asserted that he was cognizant in advance ; 
 and he now let it be known that he did not pro- 
 pose to have that performance repeated. So, 
 unless a change should take place in the politi- 
 cal character of the ministry, Captain Bulloch 
 was obliged to “ confess that the hope of getting 
 the ships out seems more than doubtful, — in- 
 deed, hopeless.” This was towards the close of 
 January, 1863, — six months nearly before the 
 first of the rams left the ways. 
 
 Messrs. Mason and Slidell at this point be- 
 came factors in the course of proceedings. They 
 shared in the views of Secretary Mallory, deem- 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 325 
 
 ing the early possession of the ships of “ para- 
 mount importance,” —a result for the attain- 
 ing of which “no effort, no sacrifice, must be 
 spared ;”” and now the European plan of cam- 
 paign, in cooperation with that which was to 
 take place in America, gradually assumed shape. 
 John Slidell was its originating and directing 
 mind, and throughout it was marked by his 
 peculiar characteristics. Mr. Slidell acted, of 
 course, in cooperation with James M. Mason, 
 and of Mr. Mason something will presently be 
 said; but at this stage of proceedings Mr. Sli- 
 dell came distinctly to the front. The field of 
 final operations was in Great Britain ; but there 
 Mr. Slidell, directing his campaign from Paris, 
 was as immediately opposed to Mr. Adams as, 
 in America, Lee was opposed to Hooker, and 
 Meade or Grant to Johnston or Pemberton. 
 The two men were in curious contrast; for 
 while Mr. Adams was essentially a Puritan, Mr. 
 Slidell certainly could by no possibility be so 
 classified; Mr. Adams, simple, direct, cool and 
 reticent, in manner chill and repellent, was in- 
 capable of intrigue; Mr. Slidell, adroit and no 
 less cool, friendly in manner and keenly observ- 
 ant of men, was at intrigue an adept. 
 
 It is not probable that either Mr. Slidell’s 
 papers or those of Mr. Mason will ever see the 
 light, and the fact is on every ground much to 
 
326 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 be regretted ; for Mr. Slidell now evinced great 
 diplomatic skill. In the Senate of the United 
 States he had, in the years immediately preceding 
 the Rebellion, been accounted one of the ablest 
 of the Southern leaders. Dr. Russell, of the 
 “ Times,” met him in New Orleans in May, 1861, 
 and was much impressed. ‘I rarely,” he then 
 wrote, “have met a man whose features have 
 a greater finesse and firmness of purpose than 
 Mr. Slidell’s ; his keen gray eye is full of life ; 
 his thin firmly set lips indicate resolution and 
 passion. . . . He is not a speaker of note, nor 
 a ready stump orator, nor an able writer ; but he - 
 is an excellent judge of mankind, adroit, perse- 
 vering and subtle, full of device, and fond of in- 
 trigue ; one of those men who, unknown almost 
 to the outer world, organizes and sustains a 
 faction, and exalts it into the position of a party, 
 — what is called here a ‘ wire-puller,’ ” In the 
 European field Mr. Slidell now not only sus- 
 tained the reputation he had gained in the United 
 States Senate, but he also made good in all its 
 details Dr. Russell’s pointed characterization. 
 Having, in January, 1863, been a year on the 
 ground, he had become familiar with it, skill- | 
 fully ingratiating himself with influential circles 
 in France, social as well as political. He ap- 
 parently had access everywhere. In the utter 
 absence of his correspondence or of any authen- 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 327 
 
 tic memoir of him, the scheme he now devised can 
 be traced only in outline; but a careful study 
 of Mr. Adams’s papers, taken in connection 
 with the public documents and what elsewhere 
 appears, sufficiently discloses its main features. 
 A far-reaching, formidable conception, it was 
 well designed to accomplish the ends the Con- 
 federate authorities had in view, and neither in 
 its formation nor development did Mr. Slidell 
 fail apparently to avail himself of any con- 
 dition or circumstance which seemed likely to 
 contribute to success. | 
 
 That the scheme was large and partook of the 
 character of a complicated intrigue, success in 
 which depended on many contingencies and much 
 individual codperation, is undeniable. Had it 
 been otherwise, it would not have commended 
 itself to John Slidell, but, in this case, it was 
 so from necessity. The situation was neither 
 compact nor simple. Men and events in Europe 
 waited on events and men in America; and, from 
 necessity himself located in France, the Con- 
 federate envoy had to operate through French 
 instrumentalities on England. The conditions 
 were not of his selection. They were imposed 
 upon him. The cards were dealt to him; it was 
 . for him to play a hand in the game. He failed, 
 and failed completely, partly because of the skill 
 and conduct of his opponent, partly from the 
 
328 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 course of events beyond his power to control ; 
 but the game was a great one, and it nowhere as 
 yet appears that he played his hand otherwise 
 than skillfully, and for all it was worth. 
 
 In the present sketch, it is only possible to 
 outline what the Confederate agents now at- 
 tempted. While, in the absence of authentic 
 information, much would in any case have to be 
 surmised, space does not suffice for the full use 
 of even such material as is now accessible. The 
 ends Mr. Slidell had in view are obvious. They 
 were twofold, —the recognition of the Con- 
 federacy by England and France acting in uni- 
 son, and the breaking of the blockade. To bring 
 about the recognition of the Confederacy, he had 
 to force the hand of the Palmerston-Russell min- 
 istry through the action of a strongly sympa- 
 thetic Parliament, compelling the resignation of 
 Earl Russell as foreign secretary. To insure the 
 consequent breaking of the blockade, in case 
 recognition fell short of intervention, he had to 
 prevent any interference by the English govern- 
 ment with the Laird rams. To this end he 
 was forced to resort to every conceivable de- 
 vice calculated to cover up their ownership. 
 His mind was fertile in expedients; and he had 
 now assured himself of the efficient cooperation , 
 of the Emperor, an immense point in favor of 
 the Confederacy. Secure in this quarter, and 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 329 
 
 with more than mere intimations of protection, 
 he early in the year summoned Captain Bul- 
 loch to Paris, and there arranged for the 
 transfer of the rams to foreign ownership. 
 Thereafter the Lairds were to know as their 
 principals only the Messrs. Bravay & Co., a 
 French firm, supposed to be acting for the 
 Pasha of Egypt, or other unknown governments. 
 The papers were formal and complete, the trans- 
 fer legal in all its details; the real fact’ being 
 that the Messrs. Bravay bought the ships for a 
 specified amount, and then privately engaged to 
 re-sell them beyond British jurisdiction for an- 
 other amount, which should include a handsome 
 commission for their house. The Laird Brothers 
 themselves seem to have been imposed upon by 
 this transaction. They, too, received a commis- 
 sion, amounting to some £5000, on account of 
 the transfer. 
 
 This matter disposed of, Mr. Slidell next, 
 through the house of Erlanger & Co., negotiated 
 a Confederate cotton loan. Bonds to the amount 
 of £3,000,000 were floated at ninety per cent, 
 putting some twelve or thirteen millions of dol- 
 lars in cash at the disposal of the Confederacy. 
 The sinews of war were thus supplied. So far 
 all went well. Much was accomplished ; but 
 the last and most difficult portion of the far- 
 reaching programme was yet to be carried out. 
 
330 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 An aggressive American policy was to be im- 
 posed upon the British government, and recogni- 
 tion compelled. Tothis end Earl Russell was to 
 be driven to resign from the ministry. Here the 
 adroit, secret management of Mr. Slidell came 
 in sharp contrast with Mr. Mason’s bungling 
 methods of procedure. In the skillful hands 
 of the Confederate envoy at Paris, the Emperor 
 and his ministers now seem to have become 
 hardly more than manikins. The touch of Sli- 
 dell could everywhere be traced. Two mem- 
 bers of the English Parliament were at this 
 juncture conspicuous for their advocacy of the 
 Confederate cause,— John Arthur Roebuck, 
 of the Sheffield “scum of Europe” speech of 
 August, 1862; and W. S. Lindsay, of “this 
 wicked, this worthless war ” speech at Chertsey. 
 Curiously enough, Mr. Lindsay was a friend of 
 Richard Cobden ; while Roebuck only a few 
 years before had, with characteristic savageness 
 of speech, denounced Napoleon III. as a “ per- 
 jured despot.” None the less, in view of the 
 great parliamentary campaign now in prepara- 
 tion, Messrs. Lindsay and Roebuck, towards the 
 end of June, 1863, were induced to go over to 
 Paris, where they conferred freely with the Em- 
 peror, dining at the Tuileries, and receiving 
 assurances from him of the most outspoken char- 
 acter. He professed himself ripe and eager for 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 331 
 
 instant recognition; and, as both his guests as- 
 severated, authorized them so to state in the 
 House of Commons. Mr. Slidell nowhere ap- 
 pears, but there can be little question of his 
 agency behind the scene. Messrs. Roebuck and 
 Lindsay did not go to Paris wholly on their own 
 motion ; the Confederate envoy was marshaling 
 his forces. 
 
 Then came the parliamentary demonstration. 
 The lead in this devolved on Mr. Roebuck. 
 Like Mr. Adams in other years, Mr. Slidell was 
 forced to do with what he had; but it is scarcely 
 possible that he should not have felt grave mis- 
 givings as respected the impulsive member for 
 Sheffield. Nevertheless, on the 30th of June, 
 that gentleman spoke in the Commons in sup- 
 port of his motion that the government be in- 
 structed “to enter into negotiations with the 
 Great Powers of Europe for the purpose of ob- 
 taining their codperation in the recognition ” of 
 the Confederacy. Into the details of this de- 
 bate, and the struggle that then took place in 
 and out of Parliament, it is impossible here to 
 enter. Mr. Adams watched events coolly, but 
 not without anxiety. Throughout, understand- 
 ing the situation well, he saw Slidell’s hand. 
 The manipulation bespoke the master. The 
 drive was at Earl Russell, and at one time 
 his resignation was rumored; London was pla- 
 
332 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 carded with representations of the conjoined 
 Confederate and British ensigns; fully three 
 quarters of the House of Commons were avow- 
 edly in sympathy with the Rebellion ; on the 4th 
 of July, before a large company at Lord Wyn- 
 ford’s table in London, Mr. Mason oracularly 
 announced the absence of any doubt in his own 
 mind that General Lee, then in reality shat- 
 tered at Gettysburg, was in possession of 
 Washington. 
 
 Unfortunately for Mr. Slidell, most fortunately 
 for Mr. Adams, Mr. Roebuck handled his cause 
 wretchedly. He made to the House an avowal 
 of amateur diplomacy which forced the ministry 
 to array itself solidly against him, and brought 
 upon him not only a measured rebuke from Pal- 
 merston, but an exemplary castigation from John 
 Bright. “The effect of Tuesday night’s de- 
 bate,” wrote Mr. Adams to Mr. Seward, “ was 
 very severe on Mr. Roebuck. His extraordinary 
 attempts to influence the action of the House by 
 the use of the authority of the Emperor of the 
 French, as well as his presuming to make him- 
 self the medium of an appeal to Parliament 
 against the conduct of the ministry, have had 
 the consequences which might naturally be ex- 
 pected by any one acquainted with the English 
 character. Thus it happened that Mr. Roe- 
 buck, though addressing an assembly a great 
 

 

 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 333 
 
 proportion of whom sympathized with him in 
 his object, demolished his cause; whilst, on the 
 other hand, Mr. Bright, even whilst running 
 counter to the predisposition of most of his 
 hearers, succeeded in extorting a general tribute 
 of admiration of his eloquent and convincing 
 reply.” This whole episode was one which Mr. 
 Roebuck’s biographer afterwards thought it ex- 
 pedient to pass over very lightly. Referring 
 to the dinner at the Tuileries and the subse- 
 quent debate, Mr. Leader says: ‘ The inevi- 
 table result of amateur diplomacy followed. 
 None of the parties to the interview agreed as 
 to what actually took place. The Emperor dis- 
 avowed, or declined to be bound by, the version 
 Mr. Roebuck gave to the House of Commons of 
 the conversation. ‘The amazement and amuse- 
 ment, with which this mission to the ‘ perjured 
 despot’ of a few years ago was received by the 
 general public, were expressed in very pregnant 
 sarcasm by speakers like Lord Robert Montagu 
 and Mr. Bright;” so that, thoroughly discom- 
 fited, Mr. Roebuck on the 18th of July “ very 
 reluctantly’ withdrew his motion without in- 
 sisting on a division. The carefully nurtured 
 movement of Mr. Slidell had failed, and Earl 
 Russell remained at the head of the British For- 
 eign Office. 
 
 But Mr. Slidell was none the less a danger- 
 
334 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ous opponent. He neglected no opportunity for 
 attack, as Mr. Adams himself had occasion to 
 realize. The episode of the Howell-Zerman let- 
 ter now occurred. Altogether a very entertain- 
 ing and characteristic incident, the letter referred 
 to caused at the moment great commotion, and for ~ 
 a brief space threatened gravely to compromise 
 Mr. Adams; but the affair soon passed over, 
 leaving no trace behind. Reference only can be 
 made to it here. Mr. Slidell, however, did not 
 fail to avail himself of it as a possible element 
 of discord; and again the imperial manikins 
 went through the requisite motions in obedience 
 to the skillful touch of Russell’s adroit “ wire- 
 puller.” Representations from the French For- 
 eign Office were received at the State Depart- 
 ment in Washington, indicating the grave 
 displeasure of the Emperor at the spirit shown 
 by Mr. Adams in regard to the former’s pro- 
 ceedings in Mexico; and English newspaper 
 correspondents from New York, of Confederate 
 leanings, dilated on the latter’s “ extraordinary 
 stupidity,” and the “really clever ability of all 
 the rebel agents.” Again Mr. Slidell’s blow 
 fell short; but it was well directed, and its 
 origin was plain, at least to Mr. Adams. 
 
 The first of the Laird rams took the water at 
 Birkenhead on the 4th of July; Mr. Roebuck 
 withdrew his motion for recognition on the 13th ; 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS _ 335 
 
 on the 16th arrived news “ of a three days’ bat- 
 tle at Gettysburg ;”’ and on the morning of the 
 19th Mr. Adams wrote: “ When I came down 
 I found on my table a private telegram, which, 
 as usual, I opened with trepidation. It proved 
 to be an announcement from Mr. Seward that 
 Vicksburg had surrendered on the 4th. Thus 
 has this great object been accomplished... . 
 Our amiable friends, the British, who expected 
 to hear of the capture of Washington, are cor- 
 respondingly disappointed.” In London, the 
 disappointment was, indeed, intense, and only 
 exceeded by the surprise. That whole commu- 
 nity — social, commercial, political — had set- 
 tled down into a conviction that the Confederate 
 arms were on the verge of a triumph not less 
 decisive than brilliant, and that Lee, scarcely 
 less of a hero in London than in Richmond, 
 was in firm possession of the national capital. 
 Why then, they argued, intervene? Had not 
 the South worked out its problem for itself? 
 The first revulsion of feeling was angry. ‘ Per- 
 haps,’ wrote Mr. Adams, “the most curious 
 phenomenon is to be seen in the London news- 
 papers, which betray the profound disappoint- 
 ment and mortification of the aristocracy at the 
 result. . . . The incredulity is yet considerable. 
 It is the strongest proof how deep-seated is the 
 passion in the English breast... . The Eng- 
 
336 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 lish are almost up to the pitch of yielding ac- 
 tive aid. Luckily, the aspect of affairs on the 
 Continent [in the Polish insurrection] is so 
 threatening that the government is disposed to 
 act with much prudence and self-restraint as to 
 embroiling us.” 
 
 That the elaborate plan of operations of Mr. 
 Slidell had now received a serious setback was 
 apparent, but still there was one feature in it 
 left. The Laird rams were French property, 
 and, as such, rapidly nearing completion. A 
 great card, they at least were still in reserve. 
 They constituted a card also which might well 
 win the game. Mr. Adams, on the other hand, 
 not unduly elated by the tidings from across the 
 Atlantic, watched his opponent coolly and wa- 
 rily. He was at his best. Lord Russell — 
 high-toned, well-intentioned, cautious, even hes- 
 itating — held the key of the situation. It was 
 he who must be worked upon. Fortunately 
 Mr. Adams’s immediate opponent, Mr. Mason, 
 having none of the finesse of Slidell, now played 
 directly into the American minister’s hands. 
 Mr. Mason was a thorough Virginian of the 
 mid-century school, — “that old slave dealer,” 
 as Cobden contemptuously described him. Ob- 
 tuse, overbearing, and to the last degree self- 
 sufficient and self-assertive, he was a poor in- 
 strument with which to work. Still, he was 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 337 
 
 there ; and Slidell was forced to use the tools he 
 had. The whole effort of Mr. Mason now was, 
 in the language of Mr. Adams, “to concen- 
 trate the attacks upon Lord Russell, as if he 
 were the chief barrier to the rebel progress in 
 the cabinet. To that end the labors of the 
 presses conducted by rebel sympathizers have 
 been directed to casting odium upon his Lord- 
 ship as acting too much under my influence. 
 This is doing me far too much honor. . Lord 
 Russell is too old and skillful a politician not to 
 understand the necessity, for his own security, 
 of keeping the minds of his countrymen quite 
 free from all suspicion of his being superfluously 
 courteous to any foreign power.” Mr. Adams 
 then added, with a touch of humorous sarcasm 
 not usual with him: “ From my observation of 
 his [Russell’s] correspondence since I have 
 been at this post, I should judge that he seldom 
 erred in that particular.” 
 
 Wiser than Mr. Mason, better informed, and 
 far stronger in his simple directness than Mr. 
 Slidell, Mr. Adams, unconsciously to himself, 
 now braced up for the final and vital grapple. 
 To that end he quietly assumed control of oper- 
 ations. The instructions from Secretary Seward, 
 already referred to, were on his table. They 
 were to the last degree rasping and minatory. 
 Mr. Adams put them in his pocket, and kept 
 
338 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 them there. He simply advised the secretary, 
 in most courteous and diplomatic terms, that, 
 as minister and on the spot, he thought he 
 understood the men and the situation best, and 
 accordingly he would assume the responsibility 
 of acting on his own judgment and as circum- 
 stances might seem to require. Most fortu- 
 nately, there was no Atlantic cable then. 
 
 The days now passed rapidly on, and the 
 rams were as rapidly made ready for sea. In 
 the language of Mr. Gladstone the year before, 
 the rebels were ‘ making, it appears, a navy.” 
 Very courteous but very firm in his communica- 
 tions with Earl Russell, Mr. Adams carefully 
 abstained from anything which could be con- 
 strued into a threat. Outwardly his communi- 
 cations breathed the most abiding faith in the 
 good intentions of the government; while in 
 private he impressed upon Mr. Cobden his 
 sense of “the very grave nature of this case,” 
 and his conviction ‘that it would end in war 
 sooner or later.” Then he added in his diary: 
 “¢ Mr. Cobden is really in earnest in his efforts, 
 but the drift is too much for him.” Through 
 Mr. Milner Gibson, Mr. Cobden was, however, 
 in close communication with the cabinet. 
 
 Mr. Adams next visited Scotland, for it was 
 now August, and the dead season in London. 
 He was there the guest of Mr. Edward illice, 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS _ 339 
 
 as also was Mr. Mason at about the same time. 
 His host was a very old man, and a Confederate 
 sympathizer. “Mr. Ellice,” Mr. Adams wrote, 
 “talked as fast as ever, occasionally running 
 full butt into American affairs. I met him 
 there with profound silence. This is my only 
 safeguard.” A few days later Mr. Adams was 
 the guest of the Duke of Argyll, at Inverary. 
 The Argylls throughout those trying times were 
 true well-wishers to the Union; but it shows 
 how well Mr. Slidell had covered up the Con- 
 federate tracks, that the Argylls now were al- 
 most persuaded that the rams were really being 
 built on French account; and only a few days 
 before, the Duchess had intimated as much in 
 a letter to Mr. Sumner. The Duke was a mem- 
 ber of the cabinet, and Mr. Adams availed him- 
 self of this opportunity to impress on his grace 
 his sense of the situation “as grave and critical ;”’ 
 and he further intimated that his “ instructions 
 on the subject [were] far more stringent than 
 [he] had yet been disposed to execute.” That 
 evening the Duke was much absorbed in letter- 
 writing, and Mr. Adams could not help wonder- 
 ing whether the foreign secretary was among 
 those to whom the letters were addressed. 
 Meanwhile Earl Russell was in great per- 
 turbation of mind. An honest, high-minded 
 gentleman, he wished to do right ; he was vexed 
 
340 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 by the course of the. rebel emissaries, and mor- 
 tified as well as irritated by the recollection of 
 his treatment in the case of the Alabama; but 
 he was staggered by the confident assertion of 
 French ownership of the vessels, which the 
 Lairds corroborated, — perhaps not dishonestly, 
 —and moreover the law,as expounded in the 
 Court of Exchequer, was plainly against inter- 
 ference. If it acted, the government must do 
 so on grounds of prerogative, against public 
 opinion, regardless of the advice of counsel, and 
 prepared to be heavily mulcted by a jury. The 
 situation was certainly trying; and yet it is 
 now manifest that Earl Russell earnestly desired 
 to do his duty to the crown, and whatever inter- 
 national obligations demanded. Like Shake- 
 speare’s noble Moor, he was, “being wrought 
 upon, perplexed in the extreme.” 
 
 Assuredly, so far as Mr. Adams was concerned, 
 Lord Russell was now sufficiently ‘ wrought 
 upon.” At six o’clock on the morning of Sep- 
 tember 3d, being, as he did not fail at the time 
 to note, the thirty-fourth anniversary of his 
 wedding day, Mr. Adams, just from the West- 
 moreland lake region, found himself on the 
 steps of his house in London. He was anxious. 
 The government could not be got to act, and 
 the rams were now almost ready to steam down 
 the Mersey, — of course, like the Alabama, only 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 341 
 
 on a trial trip! “After long wavering and 
 hesitation,” he wrote, “there are signs that the 
 ministry will not adopt any preventive policy. 
 Their moral feebleness culminates in cowardice, 
 which acts like the greatest daring. It precipi- 
 tates a conflict. My duty is therefore a difficult 
 one. Without indulging in menace, I must be 
 faithful to my country in giving warning of its 
 sense of injury. Nothing must be left undone 
 that shall appear likely to avert the danger. To 
 that end I addressed a note to Lord Russell at 
 once. The attack on Charleston [Gilmore’s 
 ‘swamp angels’] is going on with great vigor, 
 and the cries of the Richmond press indicate 
 success. Barring the conduct of foreign pow- 
 ers, I should say the rebellion would collapse 
 before New Year’s, but the pestilent malignity 
 of the English and the insidious craft of Napo- 
 leon are not yet exhausted.” 
 
 The diary written at the time tells what now 
 ensued far more effectively than would be possi- 
 ble for any biographer : — 
 
 “ Briday, 4th September : — A notice from Mr. 
 Dudley that the war vessel was about. to depart 
 compelled me to address another and stronger 
 note of solemn protest against the permission of 
 this proceeding by the government. I feared, 
 however, that it would be of little avail, and my 
 prognostications proved but too true; for I re- 
 
342 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ceived at four o’clock a note announcing that 
 the government could find no evidence upon 
 which to proceed in stopping the vessel. This 
 affected me deeply. I clearly foresee that a 
 collision must now come of it. I must not, how- 
 ever, do anything to accelerate it; and yet must 
 maintain the honor of my country with proper 
 spirit. The issue must be made up before the 
 world on its merits. The prospect is dark for 
 poor America. Her trials are not yet over. 
 Luckily the difficulties do not all come together. 
 A telegram received to-night announces the 
 destruction of Fort Sumter, and the shelling of 
 that pestilent nest of heresy, Charleston. This 
 will produce a great effect in Europe. It may 
 go so far as to save us from imminent danger 
 pressing both here and in France. I hada 
 visit from Colonel Bigelow Lawrence, who is on 
 his way to America; but I fear I was not ina 
 mood for easy talk.” 
 
 The following day it was that, after a night 
 of anxious reflection over what yet might by 
 possibility be done, he wrote and forwarded to 
 Earl Russell, then in Scotland, the dispatch of 
 September 5th, which contains his single utter- 
 ance since borne in memory. It was the dis- 
 patch containing the expression afterwards so 
 famous: ‘It would be superfluous in me to 
 point out to your lordship that this is war.” 
 
THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 3438 
 
 The heavy sense of responsibility and utter 
 dreariness of spirit under which he penned this 
 dispatch, almost unique in diplomatic corre- 
 spondence, — exactly fitting to the occasion, — 
 appears in his corresponding diary record made 
 the evening of the day he transmitted it: — 
 
 “ Saturday, 5th September :— My thoughts 
 turned strongly upon the present crisis, and the 
 difficulty of my task. My conclusion was, that 
 another note was to be addressed to Lord Rus- 
 sell to-day. So I drew one, which I intended 
 only to gain time previous to the inevitable re- 
 sult. I have not disclosed to Lord Russell those 
 portions of my instructions which describe the 
 policy to be adopted by the government at home, 
 because that course seemed to me likely to cut off 
 all prospect of escape. Contenting myself with 
 intimating [their] existence, I decided upon 
 awaiting further directions. This will give a 
 month. After I had sent the note, I received one 
 from his lordship, in answer to my two previous 
 ones of Thursday and Friday, saying that the 
 subject of them was receiving the earnest and 
 anxious consideration of the government. There 
 ‘is, then, one chance left, and but one. 
 “Tuesday, 8th September : — In the ‘ Morning 
 _ Post’ there was a short article announcing that 
 the government had decided on detaining the 
 vessels, in order to try the merits in court. It 
 
344 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 had an official aspect ; and yet I could scarcely 
 put faith in it, while I had no notice myself. 
 Later in the day, however, a brief notification 
 came from Lord Russell to the effect that orders 
 had been given to prevent their departure. I 
 know not that even in the Trent case I felt a 
 greater relief.” 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 THE YEARS OF FRUITION 
 
 More than twenty-three years later, referring 
 to the events just narrated, of which he was very 
 competent to speak, James Russell Lowell said 
 of Mr. Adams:—‘“ None of our generals in 
 the field, not Grant himself, did us better or 
 more trying service than he in his forlorn out- 
 post of London. Cavour did hardly more for 
 Italy. 
 
 “* Peace hath her victories 
 Not less renowned than war.’ ” 
 
 Certainly no victory ever won by Grant was 
 more decisive — and Grant’s victories were nu- 
 merous, and many of them most decisive — than 
 that won by Mr. Adams, and recorded so quietly 
 in the diary entry just quoted in full. There is 
 no more unmistakable gauge of the importance 
 of any movement made or result gained in 
 warfare than the quotations of the stock ex- 
 change. The deadly character of the blow 
 then inflicted on the Southern cause was imme- 
 diately read in the stock list. During the week 
 ending the 27th of August, the bonds of Mr. 
 
346 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Slidell’s Confederate cotton loan had been ac- 
 tive at 79; during the week ending the 10th of 
 September, they were lifeless at 70. The rams 
 were officially detained on the 9th of Septem- 
 ber; they were seized by the government, and 
 the broad arrow affixed, a month later, on 
 the 9th of October. That action extinguished 
 hope. The bonds then fell to 65. On the 9th 
 of July they had been quoted at 99, having 
 previously risen to a slight premium; the news 
 of the repulse of Lee at Gettysburg depressed 
 them only two points, to 97, at which figure 
 they stood firmly. Then followed the fall of 
 Vicksburg, the loss of the control of the Missis- 
 sippi, and the withdrawal of the Roebuck mo- 
 tion in Parliament; all which together broke the 
 price to 87. In other words, the combined mili- 
 tary and parliamentary disasters of the Confed- 
 eracy during July affected the barometer thirteen 
 points; while the detention and seizure of the 
 two vessels, still, in pursuance of a solemn farce, 
 designated El Tousson and El Monassir, reduced 
 it fourteen points, notwithstanding that the mili- 
 tary news then received from America was re- 
 garded as distinctly favorable to the Confederacy. 
 That this should have been so seems inexplica- 
 ble, until it is remembered that the stoppage of 
 the rams meant more, a great deal more, than 
 the continuance of the blockade, — it meant the 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 347 
 
 continuance of peaceful relations between the 
 United States and the great maritime powers of 
 Europe. The departure of the rams from the 
 Mersey, it was well understood, would involve 
 serious complications between the United States 
 and Great Britain, resulting almost inevitably in 
 the recognition of the Confederacy by the latter 
 country acting in unison with France. This 
 had been confidently anticipated ; and the anti- 
 cipation buoyed up the cotton loan. When at 
 last the broad arrow was actually affixed to the 
 unfinished ironclads, the sympathizers with the 
 Confederacy realized what that meant. The 
 Union need no longer apprehend any foreign 
 complication, while the Rebellion was obviously 
 sinking under the ever-increasing pressure 
 brought to bear upon it. It was this unexpressed 
 conclusion which was clearly read in the quota- 
 tions of the cotton loan. A decisive Union 
 advantage had at last been secured. 
 
 Already badly deranged by the parliamen- 
 tary fiasco of July, followed by the military re- 
 verses in Pennsylvania and on the Mississippi, 
 Mr. Slidell’s diplomatic programme — his great 
 European campaign, so well conceived, so far- 
 reaching, so carefully matured, so warily con- 
 ducted — had now come to naught on the vital 
 issue. A great lover of cards, Mr. Slidell was 
 an adept in their use. He rarely played save to 
 
348 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 win. But this, the great game of his life, was 
 now over; and he left the table a loser. Prob- 
 ably his knowledge of the well-known puritanic 
 traits of his opponent did not serve to alleviate 
 the bitterness of defeat. 
 
 As for Mr. Adams, though hardly a note of 
 exultation could be detected in his diary, much 
 less in his correspondence, he did not fail to 
 realize the momentous importance of what had 
 now taken place. Describing the course of 
 events in a familiar letter written a few days 
 later to his brother-in-law, Edward Everett, he 
 said: ‘ Friday [September 4th] I gave up all 
 for lost, and made preparation for the catas- 
 trophe. On Saturday I got news of a prospect 
 of achange. And yesterday [Tuesday] there 
 came a notice that the departure of the two 
 vessels (for the other had been launched in the 
 interval) had been prevented. This is rather 
 close shaving. Even now I scarcely realize the 
 fact of our escape.” 
 
 Notice of the detention of the rams reached 
 Mr. Adams on the 8th of September, 1863. On 
 the 18th of July, fourteen months before, Wil- 
 liam E. Forster had hurried to his house in great 
 distress, bringing a telegram, just received from 
 Queenstown and printed in the “ Times,” an- 
 nouncing that ‘‘ General McClellan, with all his 
 army, was negotiating for a capitulation.’ ‘The 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 349 
 
 news,” wrote Mr. Adams, “spread like wildfire, 
 and many eagerly caught at it as true. The 
 evident satisfaction taken in the intelligence is 
 one of our delectations. It almost equals the 
 days of Bull Run.” Things had then gone 
 steadily from bad to worse: Pope’s ridiculous 
 fiasco ; the disasters in Tennessee and Kentucky ; 
 the Confederate invasion of Maryland ; the battle 
 of Fredericksburg ; the repulse of Chancellors- 
 ville; the failures before Vicksburg. At last, 
 in June, 1863, the Army of Virginia crossed the 
 Potomac and fairly carried the war into the 
 free States. On July 16th of that year, tidings 
 reached London of severe but indecisive fight- 
 ing at Gettysburg; yet so strong was the 
 tendency of feeling developed under the news 
 of the invasion, that it infected even friendly 
 Americans. “Mr. Lampson was a full be- 
 liever that by this time Washington must be 
 taken; and when, the other day, I exposed 
 the absurdity of it to him, I saw that he was not 
 convinced. This comes from what may be de- 
 nominated the atmospheric pressure of opin- 
 ion as generated in England by the London 
 ‘Times.’ It is difficult even for me to put 
 myself above it.” This was on July 17th. 
 Then the day broke in one great burst of light. 
 
 Exactly six weeks later, the European victory 
 was won. The tribulation of fourteen months 
 
350 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 had come to an end, and thenceforth all went 
 well. Mr. Adams had now established his own 
 position, as well as the position of his country, 
 at the Court of St. James; nor was either again 
 challenged. ‘The adversary even abandoned 
 the field; for, less than two weeks after the 
 detention of the rams was officially announced, 
 Mr. Mason, in a not undignified letter ad- 
 dressed to Earl Russell, shook the dust of inhos- 
 pitable England from his feet and withdrew to 
 more sympathetic Paris. ‘ The ‘ Times,’ ” wrote 
 Mr. Adams to Secretary Seward, briefly noti- 
 cing the occurrence, “ distinctly admits this to be 
 a relief to the government; though I confess 
 myself at a loss to understand how he annoyed 
 them. The selection of Mr. Mason to come 
 here was an unfortunate one from the outset. 
 I can scarcely imagine an agency to have been 
 more barren of results.” He was not heard 
 from again. Remaining in Europe, sometimes 
 in France and sometimes in England, until the 
 close of the war, Mr. Mason then returned to 
 his native Virginia by way of Canada, and, 
 broken in spirit as in fortune, there died in 1871. 
 More fortunate than his Virginian colleague, in 
 that he had been shrewder in the transfer be- 
 times of a share of his worldly possessions 
 from the Confederacy to Europe, Mr. Slidell 
 never returned to America. He was not again 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 351 
 
 heard of in the field of diplomacy, except, later 
 in 1868, in connection with the summary sei- 
 zure by the Emperor Napoleon of various war 
 vessels, which that potentate had about a 
 twelvemonth before encouraged the Confederates 
 to contract for at Bordeaux and Nantes. His 
 English defeat had followed Mr. Slidell into 
 France. He never emerged from its shadow ; 
 but, after the final suppression of the Rebellion, 
 transferring his residence to England, he there 
 died in 1871, surviving his brother envoy, with 
 whom his name will always be so closely asso- 
 ciated, by only three months. 
 
 Having in remembrance the judgment of the 
 Court of Exchequer in the Alexandra case, the 
 British ministry had no hope of obtaining a fa- 
 vorable verdict as the outcome of a suit brought 
 against its agents for the detention of the rams. 
 It was futile for it to hope to prove ‘a valid 
 seizure for a valid cause of forfeiture.” It only 
 remained to settle the matter on the best terms 
 attainable. This finally was done ; and, no other 
 purchaser being found, the two rams the next 
 year passed into the hands of the government, 
 and were named the Wivern and the Scorpion. 
 The sum paid for them was £225,000. 
 
 Mr. Adams remained in London until the 
 spring of 1868, when, the war being long over, 
 he insisted on the acceptance of his resignation. 
 
352 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 Meanwhile, after he had achieved his great suc- 
 cess in. securing the detention of the rams, his 
 position as respects the authorities at Washing- 
 ton was greatly changed. ‘There too, as-well as 
 in Great Britain, it became assured. His expe- 
 rience in this matter greatly resembled, indeed, 
 that of certain generals in the field during the 
 civil war. It will be remembered how they 
 were at first constantly hampered and thwarted 
 by interference from Washington. While in 
 this respect Mr. Adams had little, comparatively 
 speaking, to complain of, and while his chief in 
 the State Department never failed to give hitn 
 full rein and undeviating support, yet Secretary 
 Seward was wholly without diplomatic expe- 
 rience himself, and, moreover, set a politician’s 
 undue estimate on the importance of indirect 
 means and influences. Accordingly, until Mr. 
 Adams had thoroughly established himself in 
 his position by success in stopping the rams, he 
 was encumbered with a great deal of assistance 
 with which he would gladly have dispensed. 
 Secretary Seward failed to realize how much 
 the irregularly accredited envoy tends to dis- 
 eredit the regularly accredited minister. 
 Fortunately, there were two sides to this an- 
 noyance ; for his opponents seem to have suf- 
 fered from it quite as much, or more even, than 
 Mr. Adams. In September, 1862, for instance, 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 353 
 
 Captain Bulloch wrote thus from Liverpool to 
 Secretary Mallory: “I do not hesitate to say 
 that embarrassment has already been occasioned 
 by the number of persons from the South who 
 represent themselves to be agents of the Con- 
 federate States government. ‘There are men so 
 constituted as not to be able to conceal their 
 connection with any affairs which may by chance 
 add to their importance, and such persons are 
 soon found out and drawn into confessions and 
 statements by gossiping acquaintances, to the 
 serious detriment of the service upon which they 
 are engaged.’’ The unfortunate experience of 
 Mr. Slidell, as the result of the amateur diplo- 
 macy he initiated between the two itinerant 
 members of the Commons, Messrs. Lindsay and 
 Roebuck, and the Tuileries, has already been 
 described. 
 
 During the early years of his mission, indeed 
 until the autumn of 1863, Great Britain was, 
 for reasons which at once suggest themselves, 
 the special field of American diplomatic activity, 
 and the minister at London was at last driven 
 to active remonstrance. These emissaries were 
 of four distinct types: (1) the roving diplomat, 
 irregularly accredited by the State Department ; 
 (2) the poaching diplomat, accredited to one 
 government, but seeking a wider field of activity 
 elsewhere; (3) the volunteer diplomat, not ac- 
 
354 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 credited at all, but in his own belief divinely 
 commissioned at that particular juncture to 
 enlighten foreign nations generally, and Great 
 Britain in particular; and (4) the special agent, 
 sent out by some department of the government 
 to accomplish, if possible, a particular object. 
 Messrs. J. M. Forbes and W. H. Aspinwall, 
 already referred to as sent out by the Navy De- 
 partment in 1863, to buy the rams, were of the 
 last description, as also was Mr. William M. 
 Evarts ; and they were men of energy, tact, and 
 discretion. Accordingly they had the good sense 
 to confine themselves to the work they were in 
 England to do, and did not indulge in a per- 
 nicious general activity. With his rare tact, 
 shrewd judgment, and quick insight into men, 
 Thurlow Weed also made himself of use both in 
 Great Britain and on the Continent, and rela- 
 tions of a most friendly and lasting character 
 grew up between him and Mr. Adams. Of 
 other diplomats, roving, poaching, and volun- 
 teer, Mr. Adams, as is evident from his diary 
 records, had grave and just cause of complaint; 
 they were officious, they meddled, and they were 
 to the last degree indiscreet. They were pecul- 
 iarly addicted to the columns of the ‘ Times,” 
 in which their effusions appeared periodically ; 
 but not always did they confine themselves to 
 ill-considered letter-writing, or mere idle talk. 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 355 
 
 This annoyance reached its climax in the 
 spring of 1863. Special emissaries of the Trea- 
 sury and of the State Department then arrived 
 in quick succession, and naturally the news- 
 paper correspondents of Confederate leanings got 
 scent of their missions, and set to work to make 
 trouble. One of them, writing from New York 
 to the London “Standard” over the signature 
 of ** Manchester,” spoke of Messrs. Forbes and 
 Aspinwall as “delegates ” about to be followed 
 by eight other men of note, “one being Mr. 
 Evarts, all of whom would regulate our affairs 
 abroad, and Mr. Adams is ordered to be their 
 mouthpiece.” This correspondent then pro- 
 ‘ceeded as follows: “[Mr. Evarts] is a particu- 
 lar friend of W. H. Seward. The latter, it 
 is well known, has lost all confidence in Mr. 
 Adams, who, but for his name, would have been 
 recalled long ago. Mr. Seward expresses him- 
 self on all occasions, early and late, that the real 
 source of bad feeling in England towards the 
 North has been caused by the extraordinary 
 stupidity of Mr. Adams, our minister, and the 
 really clever ability of all the rebel agents.” 
 This particular letter Mr. Adams never saw 
 until his attention was called to it by an em- 
 phatic private denial from Mr. Seward of the 
 statements contained in it. None the less, 
 though outwardly he gave no sign, the regularly 
 
356 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 accredited minister to Great Britain chafed 
 sorely in private over these efforts at advice and 
 supervision. ‘It cannot be denied,” he wrote, 
 ‘“‘that ever since I have been here the almost 
 constant interference of government agents of 
 all kinds has had the effect, however intended, 
 of weakening the position of the minister. Most 
 of all has it happened in the case of Mr. Evarts, 
 whom the newspapers here have all insisted to 
 have been sent to superintend my office-in all 
 questions of international law. I doubt whether 
 any minister has ever had so much of this kind 
 of thing to contend with.” Mr. Adams prob- 
 ably had grounds for this doubt. Meanwhile, 
 on the other hand, few foreign ministers at any 
 time, and certainly none ever from the United 
 States, occupied such a difficult and responsible 
 position at so critical a period. 
 
 After the stoppage of the rams, Mr. Adams 
 suffered no more annoyance from this source 
 than did General Grant from interference of a 
 similar kind after the fall of Vicksburg; and 
 from the same reason. But, as a mere function 
 of state, the position of minister had no at- 
 traction for him; indeed, its duties were dis- 
 tasteful. He yearned to be at home in New 
 England, referring continually to his prolonged 
 residence in Europe as an “exile.” Yet in 
 fact no American representative, before or 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 357 
 
 since, has ever enjoyed a_ position equal to 
 that held by him during the remaining four 
 years of his service. He had, under trying 
 circumstances, won the confidence of all parties. 
 The cause and country he represented had, 
 moreover, been brilliantly successful; and cer- 
 tainly not less in Great Britain than elsewhere 
 success counts for much. 
 
 The correspondence in relation to the so-called 
 Alabama claims was renewed in 1864, and ecar- 
 ried on at great length through 1865, Earl Rus- 
 sell being still the foreign secretary. It at- 
 tracted much attention, both in Europe and at 
 home, and the conduct of his share in it greatly 
 enhanced the reputation of Mr. Adams. Sub- 
 sequently it became the basis of the American 
 case in the Geneva arbitration. 
 
 Later, and after the close of the civil war, 
 occurred the “ Fenian” disturbances in Canada 
 and Great Britain, throwing on the London 
 legation a good deal of business the reverse 
 of agreeable. The blowing up by dynamite of 
 historic public edifices as well as police stations, 
 and the murdering of the constabulary while in 
 the. performance of its duties as such, are 
 criminal acts, even when committed in Europe 
 by those naturalized in America. This purely 
 prosaic and matter-of-fact view of the case did 
 not, however, during the years 1865-67, altogether 
 
358 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 commend itself to the Irish-American political 
 element. Consequently, though in almost every 
 case he succeeded .by judicious intercession in 
 mitigating the severity of the British law, Mr. 
 Adams did not entirely escape censure at 
 home. In certain quarters, never conspicuous 
 for coolness of judgment or moderation in 
 speech, it was assumed that a truly sympathetic 
 American diplomatic representative would now 
 make his presence in London known by demon- 
 strations not less frequent than vociferous. He 
 would, in fact, claim for naturalized American 
 citizens the inalienable right, subject to some 
 not very material limitations, to do, in the Brit- 
 ish Isles at least, anything, anywhere, and to 
 any one. It is almost needless to say that Mr. 
 Adams shared to a very limited degree only, if 
 indeed at all, in this view cf what was incum- 
 bent upon him. His dissent also extended to 
 the manner as well as the matter. Hence the 
 indignation aroused. One ardent Congressional 
 representative, indeed, evincing, perhaps, a cer- 
 tain confusion in his ideas of constitutional law, 
 went so far as to propose the formal impeach- 
 ment of the American minister near the Court 
 of St. James. This, however, was a mere pass- 
 ing episode, scarcely deserving of mention; and, 
 as such, was wholly lost sight of -in the general 
 recognition afforded Mr. Adams, on both sides 
 of the Atlantic, as his term drew to its close. 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 359 
 
 His own record of the long and interesting 
 experiences he went through, social as well as 
 political, was detailed and graphic ; and of its 
 character no better idea could, perhaps, be given 
 than through his description of certain occur- 
 rences which, judging by the detail of his record, 
 seem most to have interested him. One of 
 these was an attendance at the Sunday services 
 held by Mr. Spurgeon, the famous evangelist 
 preacher. Thither curiosity took Mr. Adams, 
 himself always a regular church attendant, on 
 the 13th of October, 1861, he having then been 
 five months only in England. 
 
 “Sunday, 13th October, 1861:—A clear, 
 fine day throughout, a thing quite rare at this 
 season. Mrs. Adams and I took the opportunity 
 to execute a plan we have entertained for some 
 time back, which was to go across the river to 
 attend divine service at the great tabernacle at 
 which the most popular preacher in London 
 officiates. We were obliged to go an hour in 
 advance of the service in order to get a chance 
 of seats. As it was, crowds were in waiting at 
 the doors. A hint had been given to me that, 
 by special application at the side door, the police 
 officer might admit us. There is a magic power 
 in liveried servants in similar cases here, and we 
 found ourselves immediately in an immense hall, 
 surrounded with two deep tiers of gallery. The 
 
360 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 seats, however, though empty at the moment, all 
 belonged to individuals by ticket just as rigidly 
 as if it was a theatre, and I was beginning to 
 despair, when a civil, plain-looking man met us 
 and offered two seats in the front gallery, vacant 
 by reason of the non-attendance of two of his 
 daughters, which I accepted with pleasure. This 
 position gave us the opportunity to see the entire 
 audience after it was assembled, and the slow 
 but the steady process of accumulation, until, 
 from top to bottom, including the very highest 
 point under the roof, not an empty place was 
 to be found, not excepting any of the aisles or 
 passageways. It is estimated that the house 
 can hold seven thousand people at the lowest. 
 The spectacle was striking, for the people were 
 evidently almost all of the pure middle class of 
 England, which constitutes the real strength of 
 the nation, and yet which in religion relucts at 
 the inanimate vacuity of the ministrations in the 
 Established Church, and grasps at something 
 more vigorous and earnest than forms. Mr. 
 Spurgeon is a short, thickset man, thoroughly 
 English in matter and manner, yet without 
 physical coarseness, so common an attendant of 
 the frame after youth. There was no pulpit. 
 He stood on a raised platform under the first 
 gallery, projecting sufficiently to admit of several 
 rows of seats behind, and between flights of steps 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 361 
 
 on each side which led down to the body of the 
 hall. <A slight railing ran before him, which 
 continued on the stairs to the bottom. A table 
 at one side, and a chair. This was the appear- 
 ance. The service was in the usual simple form 
 of the dissenting churches. A rather short 
 prayer. The hymns were read aloud, and sung 
 by the whole congregation without accompani- 
 ment. Then the sermon from the text 3 Ephe- 
 sians xv.,—‘ Of whom the whole family in 
 heaven and earth is named.’ He discoursed 
 upon this with great fluency, moving from time 
 to time to one or the other side. His topics were 
 drawn from the three significant words of his 
 text, the link word, as he ealled it, which was 
 Christ, as referred to from the antecedent in the 
 verse before ; then the key-word, which was the 
 family ; and lastly the password, which comprised 
 all its members. Everything else, however, was 
 grouped around the single centre of the family ; 
 the head and father of the members, living and 
 dead, recognized by the name of Christ, no mat- 
 ter what the superadded denomination. There 
 was breadth and grandeur in his images, not a 
 little heightened by the mode of singing before- 
 hand a Wesleyan hymn developing the idea of 
 the solemn march of the host, never breaking its 
 ranks even in crossing the narrow river that sep- 
 arates this and the other world. The family con- 
 
362 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 tinued one, going on to its reward for its faithful 
 devotion to its chief. And, although professing 
 himself a Baptist and a Calvinist, he disavowed 
 all narrowness of sectarian bigotry, and com- 
 pared the effect of the distinctions between them 
 to that produced by the prenomen among bro- 
 thers and sisters. His division was lucid, and 
 his treatment remarkably effective, of a few 
 simple ideas. For there was no very character- 
 istic thought nor novel reasoning. His power 
 consisted in sympathy with the current of human 
 feeling in all ages on the solemn topic of moral 
 responsibility to a higher power both here and 
 hereafter. During his whole address, the atten- 
 tion was profound, and the emotion at times con- 
 siderable. How singular is the sway of the hu- 
 man voice when guided by a master of its tones! 
 As the great multitude finally poured itself in a 
 quiet, orderly channel out of the edifice, I could 
 not but speculate upon the new view of English 
 society that had here been opened to me. Here 
 is visible the kernel that cracked the hard outer 
 shell of conventional formalities in the days of 
 the Reformation. Here lie, but partially awak- 
 ened, the elements of moral revolution whenever 
 the corruption of the privileged classes shall 
 have reached a point that renders submission no 
 longer tolerable.! This crowded auditory is the — 
 
 1“ When the intelligence came that the emancipation policy 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 363 
 
 standing: protest of the city of London against 
 the monotonous vacuity of the teaching of the 
 Established Church. Well it will be for the 
 safety of all if they never fall into hands more 
 dangerous than those of Mr. Spurgeon. I con- 
 fess I was very agreeably disappointed in this 
 visit.” 
 
 Another entry, and of a gathering of a wholly 
 different character, was that of Wednesday, 
 February, 1865. Mr. Adams had then -been 
 nearly four years in England, and, owing to the 
 delicate health of a daughter, the physicians 
 recommended for her a winter in Italy. Un- 
 able to leave his post, for those were the closing 
 days of the civil war, Mr. Adams accompanied 
 his family only to Folkestone. It was a soft 
 
 of the President was confirmed by the supplementary procla- 
 mation of January Ist, the demonstrations of support [in Eng- 
 land] were greater than had been known for any movement 
 since the uprising for the abolition of the duties on corn... . 
 On a Sunday Spurgeon thus prayed before his congregation of 
 many thousands: ‘Now, O God! we turn our thoughts across 
 the sea to the terrible conflict of which we knew not what to 
 say; but now the voice of freedom shows where is right. We 
 pray Thee, give success to this glorious proclamation of liberty 
 which comes to us from across the waters. We much feared 
 that our brethren were not in earnest, and would not come to 
 this. Bondage and the lash can claim no sympathy from us. 
 God bless and strengthen the North; give victory to their arms!’ 
 The immense congregation responded to this invocation in the 
 midst of the prayer with a fervent amen.” Rhodes, History 
 of the United States, iv. 350, 351. 
 
364 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 spring day, with light vapor clouds; a gentle 
 breeze from the west slightly rippled the sur- 
 face of the Channel as he watched the reced- 
 ing packet from the head of the pier. ‘The 
 steamer grew smaller and smaller, and I re- 
 flected that I was alone, and now — what to 
 do next? ” The solitary house in London did 
 not seem attractive, and Mr. Adams gradually 
 bethought himself of Canterbury. He had 
 never visited Canterbury. So he resolved to 
 get all the benefit he could from his trip by 
 seeing one more cathedral town. Of the cathe- 
 dral itself he wrote: ‘“* Although not perhaps so 
 full of striking effects as some of the others, 
 there are parts which are very imposing, and 
 which become far more so to the visitor from 
 the historical associations with which they are 
 connected. The greatest of all is what is called 
 Becket’s corona. It was the blundering passion 
 of Henry which made the fortune of the edifice 
 where the crime of Becket’s murder was commit- 
 ted. For many generations following, the reli- 
 gious heart of the Christian community continued 
 to respond to the call made upon it in the name 
 of the slaughtered martyr. Here was the shrine 
 which pilgrims came from afar to visit, and to 
 cover with the most costly of presents. The 
 counter-clap of the Reformation came to knock 
 it all away, so that nothing now remains but the 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 365 
 
 stone to mark the site where the act was com- 
 mitted, and the corona built up in his honor. 
 Here, too, is the effigy of Edward, the Black 
 Prince, in brass, in remarkable preservation, — 
 a slight built, youthful figure, considerably below 
 the medium size. Henry the Fourth and his 
 second wife are also here. There is a spacious 
 chapter house, and cloisters which go all round 
 the square. How imposing all this must have 
 been five centuries ago! There are plenty of 
 monuments of archbishops down to Cardinal 
 Pole, the last of the Catholics, whose sarco- 
 phagus, as compared with the rest, sufficiently 
 shows the change that the public mind had 
 undergone. Nobody resisted the eighth Henry’s 
 ruthless desecration of Becket’s holy shrine. In 
 this day the great cathedral finds itself sadly 
 out of place. The archbishop lives in London, 
 and seldom pays it more than a formal visit. 
 The town is a quiet, little, mean-looking one, 
 strangely contrasting with the stately and spa- 
 cious central structure. Its general effect is not 
 equal to that of York or Lincoln, or even Dur- 
 ham. 
 
 “Having thus accomplished my object, I re- 
 turned to the Fountain Hotel to dine. A 
 quiet, country inn; but clean and good, and 
 without any pretension. Having my evening 
 on my hands, I inquired of the waiter if there 
 
366 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 was any public amusement here. He answered 
 that a concert of the Catch Club was to be held 
 a few doors from there. It would be very full, 
 and admission could be had only through mem- 
 bers. But if I wished to go, Mr. Fine, the land- 
 lord, who was a member, would pass me. I went, 
 and paid my shilling entrance fee without having 
 occasion to name Mr. Fine. The spectacle to 
 which I was introduced was curious, and to me 
 novel in this country. It was a good-sized hall, 
 at one end of which was a platform for the per- 
 formers, and at the other a gallery. The women 
 congregated in both places, where they sat apart 
 by themselves. On one side, and close to the 
 wall, was a small box, in which sat the chairman 
 and other officers. Along the body of the hall 
 were three rows of tables, with chairs on both 
 sides of each. Here were the men of Canter- 
 bury, I should think fair specimens of the middle 
 class of the small towns. Every man had either 
 a pipe or a cigar, smoking all the evening, and 
 before him was a glass of spirits and hot water, 
 which was supplied from waiters carried around 
 by servants. These were renewed as often as 
 emptied, each one costing sixpence, which was 
 paid on the spot. As I can take neither of 
 these luxuries, my position was singular, but it 
 elicited no remark. The music was composed 
 of two catches for four voices, two solos, two or 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 367 
 
 three concerted pieces for instruments, and three 
 ballads by Mr. McKnew, a ‘nigger’ minstrel fan- 
 tastically dressed. Among them all, the latter 
 incontestably carried away the honors. He was 
 applauded noisily, and each time called back to 
 sing again. But he never repeated. The buf- 
 foonery was poor, occasionally bordering the 
 coarse. A burlesque of a speech of thanks was 
 sheer nonsense. Yet everything was accepted 
 as droll, laughed at, and boisterously approved. 
 Yet in the midst of this steam of hot liquor 
 there was no disorder or irregularity of deport- 
 ment. The general aspect was gravity. The 
 conversation was from neighbor to neighbor. 
 No voices raised high. No appearance of undue 
 excitement. The brandy or rum or gin was per- 
 ceptible on the surface of the outer cuticle, but 
 it rather dulled than stimulated the eye. These 
 people were evidently happy after their fashion. 
 But that fashion, before it was over, became so 
 intolerable to me that I was obliged to take my 
 leave of the stifling atmosphere at the cost of 
 missing the latter part of the entertainment. I 
 suppose that this is about the summit of pleasure 
 during the winter season to English people of 
 this type. I knew they drank freely, but I had 
 no idea smoking was so universal among them. 
 Went back to my hotel, and soon to bed; but 
 I slept very partially, hearing at intervals the 
 
368 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 howling of the wind, as well as the raindrops 
 beating against the window, and I congratulated 
 myself on having expedited the travelers.” 
 
 In curious contrast with the foregoing was an 
 account of a breakfast at Mr. Gladstone’s, some 
 fifteen months later. Mr. Gladstone was then 
 chancellor of the exchequer and leader of the 
 House of Commons in the brief Russell ministry, 
 following the death of Lord Palmerston. The 
 Colonel Holmes referred to was Oliver Wendell 
 Holmes, Jr., then fresh from the army after the 
 close of the Rebellion; now (1899) the Chief 
 Justice of Massachusetts. In June, the London 
 season was at its height; and the Russell min- 
 istry, in consequence of adverse majorities in 
 the Commons on the reform bill it had intro- 
 duced, resigned on the 26th of the month. 
 
 “Thursday, Tth June, 1866: —The other even- 
 ing at the Queen’s ball Mrs. Gladstone asked 
 me, as from her husband, to come to breakfast 
 this morning, at the same time that Colonel 
 Holmes was invited. At first [ hesitated on the 
 score of various engagements and arrears of 
 work; but, on consideration that this was the 
 second time of such an overture, I decided to go. 
 I found no cause to regret the decision, for the 
 company was very pleasant. The Duke and 
 Duchess of Argyll, Lord Littleton, Lord Hough- 
 ton, Lord Frederick Cavendish with his wife, and 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 369 
 
 one of his uncles, and several whom I did not 
 know. I forgot Lord Dufferin. We sat at two 
 round tables, thus dividing the company; but _ 
 Mr. Gladstone took ours, which made all the 
 difference in the world. His characteristic is 
 the most extraordinary facility of conversation 
 on almost any topic, with a great command of 
 literary resources, which at once gives it a high 
 tone. Lord Houghton, if put to it, is not with- 
 out aptness in keeping it up; whilst the Duke of 
 Argyll was stimulated out of his customary in- 
 difference to take his share. Thus we passed 
 from politics, the House of Commons, and Mr. 
 Mill, to English prose as illustrated from the 
 time of Milton and Bacon down to this day and 
 contrasted with German, which has little of 
 good, and with French. In the latter connec- 
 tion Mr. G. asked me if I had read the Conscrit 
 of Erckmann-Chatrian. Luckily for me, who 
 have little acquaintance with the light current 
 literature, I could say ‘ Yes,’ and could contrast 
 it favorably with the artificial manner of Hugo. 
 It is a cause of wonder to me how a man like 
 Gladstone, so deeply plunged in the current of 
 politics, and in the duties of legislation and offi- 
 cial labor, can find time to keep along with the 
 ephemeral literature abro2zd as well as at home. 
 After an hour thus spent we rose, and on a 
 question proposed by Colonel Holmes respecting 
 
370 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 a group of figures in china, which stood in a 
 corner, Mr. Gladstone launched forth into a dis- 
 quisition on that topic, which he delights in, and 
 illustrated his idea of the art by showing us 
 several specimens of different kinds. One a 
 grotesque but speaking figure in Capo di Monte, 
 another a group of combatants, two of whom 
 were lying dead with all the aspect of strained 
 muscle stiffening; and lastly, a very classical and 
 elegant set of Wedgwood ware, certainly finer 
 than I ever saw before. He might have gone 
 on much longer, but we were separating, and 
 I was obliged to hurry home in order to com- 
 plete the week’s dispatches. This is the plea- 
 santest and most profitable form of English 
 society. J have not met with much of it since 
 I have been here, and hence infer that it is rare. 
 It reminds me a little of my father’s breakfasts 
 [in Washington] when he was Secretary of 
 State and I a boy.” 
 
 The following are Mr. Adams’s descriptions of 
 the funeral obsequies of two of the most distin- 
 guished of the public men with whom he came 
 in contact while in England, — Richard Cob- 
 den, the most influential of those who, during 
 the period of rebellion stress, sympathized 
 with the Union, though not more courageous or 
 outspoken than Bright or Forster; and Lord 
 Palmerston, the jaunty Premier, to whose really 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 371 
 
 strong points and attractive attributes Mr. Ad- 
 ams, it must be conceded, did scant justice. Mr. 
 Cobden died on the 2d of April, 1865, the very 
 day of the capture of Richmond and the fall of 
 the Confederacy. Lord Palmerston, still Prime 
 Minister at the great age of eighty-one, fol- 
 lowed him on the 18th of October. 
 
 “ Friday, Tth April, 1865:— To Midhurst [in 
 Sussex, some fifteen miles from the south coast 
 of England], which we reached at noon. We all 
 got out and walked perhaps a mile to the point at 
 which the immediate procession would pass from 
 the house to the church of Larington, where the 
 body was to be buried; here we were to fall in 
 and follow. I saw Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Villiers, 
 and Mr. Milner Gibson, of the ministers, and 
 perhaps sixty members of Parliament. Lord 
 Kinnaird, the only peer, and I walked together. 
 Besides which there were deputations from sev- 
 eral of the great towns of the north, Manches- 
 ter and Birmingham, Bradford and Rochdale, 
 and Liverpool. The day was lovely, and the 
 scenery of that peculiarly quiet, English charac- 
 ter seen nowhere but in this little island. It 
 has not, however, that defect of flatness and 
 over-culture which robs so many parts of all in- 
 terest. There is irregularity of surface, and in 
 a degree roughness of wood and wild to make 
 the picturesque. We wound along a road grad- 
 
372 CHARLES. FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 ually ascending until we came to a steep rise, 
 which brought us to the little church. The site 
 is thus high; and from it the eye wanders over 
 a wide space terminating in a range of distant 
 hills, all rural and quiet. Here the last cere- 
 monies were completed. The land is thrown up 
 in glacis, on the highest of which was the tomb 
 into which the body was finally placed to re- 
 pose. In front were the pall-bearers and near- 
 est relatives. On one side were the members 
 of Parliament, and at the back I stood, with 
 many more, thus making three sides of a square, 
 the fourth side left open at the corner of the 
 sloping terrace. There was emotion shown by 
 none so much as by Mr. Bright. No pageant 
 could have touched me so much. I felt my eyes 
 filling from mere human sympathy. The de- 
 ceased statesman had fought his way to fame 
 and honor by the single force of his character. 
 He had nothing to give. No wealth, no honors, 
 no preferment. A lifelong contempt of the 
 ruling class of his countrymen had earned for 
 him their secret ill-will, marked on this day by 
 the almost total absence of representatives here. 
 And, of all foreign nations, I alone, the type of 
 a great democracy, stood to bear witness to the 
 scene. The real power that was present in the 
 multitude crowding around this lifeless form 
 was not the less gigantic for all this absence. 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 373 
 
 In this country, it may be said to owe its ex- 
 istence to Mr. Cobden. He first taught them 
 by precept and example that the right of govy- 
 ernment was not really to the few, but to the 
 many. He shook the pillars of the aristocracy 
 by proving that he could wield influence with- 
 out selling himself to them, or without recourse 
 to the arts of a demagogue. Thus he becomes 
 the founder of a new school, the influence of 
 which is only just beginning to be felt. In the 
 next century the effects will become visible. 
 Such were my meditations as I drew away from 
 the spot, and sauntered along a quiet cross-road 
 by myself back to the little town of Midhurst, — 
 old, with narrow streets, but neat as possible, 
 and substantial-looking. No dilapidation, or 
 symptom of dirt or poverty. An aspect of com- 
 plete repose, as it were Pompeii after an en- 
 tombment of centuries. Presently Mr. Forster 
 overtook me. We soon afterwards returned in 
 the train which got to town at six. Thus passed 
 the day. I was glad I went, for it seemed to 
 be very acceptable. Besides which, it was an 
 event to mark in a lifetime.” 
 
 “ Friday, 27th October. — According to the 
 programme, my carriage and servants were sent 
 at eleven o’clock to Cambridge House, to make 
 a part of the escort of the corpse to Westmin- 
 ster Abbey, whilst I went directly to the Abbey 
 
374 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 at noon. A stall in the choir was assigned to 
 me, from which I had a good opportunity to 
 see everything of the ceremony in the interior. 
 The Prince of Wales and the Duke of Cam- 
 bridge came in successively, and each had a stall 
 assigned next to the desk of the subdeans. 
 Only Mr. Musurus, of the ambassadors, and 
 Messrs. D’Azeglio, Biilow, Wachmeister, Ne- 
 grete, and myself, of the ministers, with several 
 subordinates, supposed to represent their prin- 
 cipals, and Baron Blome. The members of Par- 
 liament, many of the Lords and other officials, 
 had places on a raised platform placed in the 
 ‘Poets’ Corner.’ Spectators’ heads were visi- 
 ble peering out from every arch or window base, 
 even to the very roof, where they looked little 
 dots; but it gave no idea of a great crowd. 
 Presently came in the usual assortment of city 
 organizations, with their comical livery dresses, 
 and the maces, which make the bathos of every 
 public demonstration of this kingdom. After 
 these had been carefully disposed of in the space 
 just before the altar, the choir came in, preceding 
 the body, and chanting the opening sentences 
 of the burial service, ‘ I am the resurrection and 
 the life,’ and ‘I know that my Redeemer liveth.’ 
 To me, this was the most impressive moment of 
 the whole ceremony. ‘The singers slowly filed 
 off into their places in front of me, making way 
 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 375 
 
 for the body, borne in apparently by the chief 
 members of the old cabinet, with the new Pre- 
 mier at the head, Lord Russell. Just in ad- 
 vance was a man bearing on a velvet cushion 
 the empty coronet, a good type of the vanity of 
 the bauble. Then followed the mourners and 
 attendant followers, who filled the remaining 
 seats in the choir. Of the whole mass, the only 
 blood relations were two persons of the name of 
 Sullivan, never heard of in his day of power, 
 and therefore probably of very modest preten- 
 sions in the social scale; but there were many 
 of his wife’s descendants. The ceremony went 
 on in customary form until the moment for 
 moving to the grave. We then all filed out in 
 order, and made a circle around the grave. The 
 effect was fine in the midst of the monuments 
 to the great men of other times, — Chatham and 
 Fox and Pitt and Canning, each of whom was 
 a much greater man than Palmerston; yet not 
 so much so, but that he might properly enough 
 be permitted to repose at their feet. Many are 
 resting around him who were not half so de- 
 serving as he. Dean Stanley read the remain- 
 der of the services clearly and with effect, but 
 there was nothing to stir emotion. Then came 
 Handel’s hymn, ‘ His body is buried in peace,’ 
 very well sung in the midst of a sudden change 
 of light caused by heavy rain outside, which 
 
376 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 gave a touch of gloom that did not form any 
 marked feature of the ceremony before. So it 
 ended. Imposing, but not affecting. Lord 
 Palmerston’s career was one of success which 
 drew myriads of friends of a certain sort about 
 him, but he was the incarnation of the passions 
 of this world. Hence when he vanishes he 
 leaves nothing but a historical memory. I could 
 not but recall the moment when I stood, only a 
 few months ago, by the grave of a greater, be- 
 cause a more single-hearted and truthful, states- 
 man, and witnessed the simple but earnest trib- 
 ute paid to his worth by hundreds of men who 
 were drawn to the spot by no idea but the sole 
 desire to sprinkle [it] with their tears. At 
 that time I, though a stranger, felt the moisture 
 spontaneously rising in my eyes. At this, I 
 not only stood myself unmoved, but saw no one 
 anywhere who looked less calm than I. The 
 historical scene was over; and Palmerston is no 
 longer a word of charm for any perhaps but the 
 widow, who served him faithfully in his days of 
 pride, and who in his loss will daily realize the 
 change that has come over herself and her own 
 ambition. The mainspring is gone.” 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 
 
 WHEN he returned to America in June, 1868, 
 Mr. Adams was in his sixty-first year, and 
 much future public usefulness might have been 
 expected of him. He was, however, not only, 
 so to speak, out of touch with both the great 
 political parties which divided the country, but 
 he came back to a country quite different from 
 that which he had left. Between the United 
 States of 1861 and that of 1868 a great gulf 
 intervened; and Mr. Adams was a man who 
 adjusted himself but slowly to new conditions. 
 Moreover, the rough, crude policy of recon- 
 struction, inaugurated in opposition to President 
 Andrew Johnson by the more radical element 
 of the Republican party, now in complete as- 
 cendency, offended all his ideas both of public 
 morality and constitutional law; on the other 
 hand, not only was the record of the Democratic 
 party objectionable, but he could not help see- 
 ing much to criticise in its present attitude and 
 political methods. Still, he came back with a 
 great reputation. Throughout the war he had 
 
378 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 been brought in conflict with those representing 
 foreign nations only. Thus he was in no way 
 associated in men’s minds with domestic strife, 
 and consequently he was in a strong position to 
 render public service. He evinced, however, 
 no disposition to take part in political affairs, 
 avoiding all public expression. While the ac- 
 tive politicians —the workers and schemers of 
 both parties — looked at him somewhat askance, 
 regarding him as an unknown and to a degree 
 a questionable factor, he betook himself at once 
 to Quincy, and, busying himself with the family 
 papers, quietly resumed the life he had aban- 
 doned when he went to Washington ten years 
 before. Naturally, he did not find the change 
 healthful, or his work exhilarating. He under- 
 ' stood at last his father’s dislike, in his latter 
 years, to raking over “‘stale political excite- 
 ments.” 
 
 Though, at the presidential election which fol- 
 lowed his return, Mr. Adams east a silent vote 
 for the Republican candidate, General Grant, 
 as representing a policy of peace and restored 
 good feeling, he took no part whatever in the 
 canvass. The radical element repelled him. 
 After the election, however, and when the cabi- 
 net of the coming President was in discussion, 
 his name was much canvassed in connection with 
 the Department of State; but there is no reason — 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 379 
 
 to think that Grant ever seriously considered 
 the appointment. When Mr. Adams left for 
 England in 1861, the now incoming President 
 was a compulsorily retired captain, unknown 
 and quite discredited ; nor could anything have 
 more emphasized the change the intervening 
 years had wrought than, a few months after 
 his return, to be introduced to this personage, 
 become, as if by magic, the most exalted char- 
 acter in the land. The two met for the first 
 time at a Boston dinner-table, early in Decem- 
 ber, 1869. They doubtless each scrutinized the 
 other with curiosity ; it is questionable whether 
 on either side the conclusion was altogether fa- 
 vorable. 
 
 Harvard University was then looking for a 
 President in place of Thomas Hill, recently re- 
 signed. Mr. Adams was somewhat in the line 
 of safe precedent, and the members of the cor- 
 poration accordingly turned towards him. In 
 March, 1869, a formal tender of the position 
 was made. Mr. Adams declined to consider it. 
 He saw in himself “no especial fitness” for 
 the office ; and to accept it would, as he wrote, 
 “involve a necessity of breaking up all my ar- 
 rangements, and the abandonment of plans to 
 execute which I had given up public life.” The 
 conclusion was not less wise than clear; and, 
 
 Mr. Charles W. Eliot being the next choice, 
 
380 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 neither Mr. Adams nor the University had oc- 
 casion subsequently to regret it. 
 
 Meanwhile the questions at issue between the 
 United States and Great Britain, left unsettled 
 by Mr. Adams, were rapidly being brought to a 
 head. Mr. Reverdy Johnson, of Maryland, had 
 succeeded Mr. Adams at London. A treaty, 
 subsequently known as the Johnson-Clarendon 
 treaty, had been negotiated by Mr. Johnson 
 with Lord Clarendon, the British foreign sec- 
 retary in the first Gladstone administration, 
 and, in the last month of Andrew Johnson’s 
 term, was submitted to the Senate for its ap- 
 proval. Carried over as unfinished business 
 into Grant’s first term, on April 18th it was 
 rejected by a vote practically unanimous. It 
 was on this occasion that Mr. Sumner, then 
 chairman of the senate committee on foreign 
 affairs, introduced into the case the element of 
 ‘indirect claims.” ‘The practical effect of 
 this proceeding,” wrote Mr. Adams on the day 
 Mr. Sumner’s speech was published, “ is to raise 
 the scale of our demands of reparation so very 
 high that there is no chance of negotiation left, 
 unless the English have lost all their spirit and 
 character.” A few days later Mr. Motley, then 
 recently appointed, and on his way to succeed 
 Reverdy Johnson at London, called on Mr. 
 Adams. ‘ He seems anxious to do his best,” 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 381 
 
 wrote Mr. Adams; “ but his embarrassment is 
 considerable in one particular which never af- 
 fected me, and that is having two masters. Mr. 
 Seward never permitted any interference of the 
 Senate, or Mr. Sumner, with his direction of 
 the policy.” 
 
 There is not space in the present work to 
 enter in detail into the history of the treaty of 
 Washington. Very interesting, it is replete with 
 individual characteristics; but Mr. Adams was 
 concerned only in its results. He took no part in 
 the negotiations, nor was he more than inciden- 
 tally consulted as they progressed. To expect 
 an agreement of the two sides on the numer- 
 ous and intricate questions in dispute was alto- 
 gether unreasonable ; and so, in the end, a series 
 of references to arbitration was agreed on, one 
 of which, and incomparably the most important, 
 covered the Alabama claims. The really no- 
 ticeable feature in the treaty, however, — the 
 feature unprecedented in diplomacy,— was a 
 confession of wrongdoing on the part of one of 
 the contracting parties, incorporated in the pre- 
 amble. Her Britannic Majesty’s representatives 
 there declared themselves authorized to “ ex- 
 press in a friendly spirit the regret felt by her 
 Majesty’s government for the escape, under 
 whatever circumstances, of the Alabama and 
 other vessels from British ports, and for the 
 
382 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 depredations committed by those vessels,” — an 
 admission which, eight years before, it would 
 have seemed to Lord Palmerston and Earl Rus- 
 sell well-nigh inconceivable that England ever 
 would descend to make. 
 
 Three rules for the guidance of the arbitrators 
 in their disposal of claims in dispute were then 
 formulated. Through these rules the principles 
 of international law theretofore recognized were 
 distinctly developed and defined; and to this re- 
 sult the clear and detailed record, so laboriously 
 made up by Mr. Adams in his correspondence 
 with Earl Russell, greatly contributed. The ar- 
 bitrators, five in number, were to be named : — 
 one by each of the two nations concerned; one 
 by the King of Italy; one by the Emperor of 
 Brazil; and one by the President of the Swiss 
 Confederation. Count Frederic Sclopis, the 
 Baron d’Itajuba, and Mr. Jacob Staempfli were 
 duly designated by the three foreign countries. 
 Great Britain appointed Sir Alexander Cock- 
 burn, Chief Justice of the Court of Queen’s 
 Bench; Mr. Adams was appointed on behalf of 
 the United States. It was further provided that 
 the tribunal should meet at Geneva “at the 
 earliest convenient day” after appointment, 
 which was subsequently settled as some time in 
 December, 1871. None of those with whom he 
 thus found himself about to be associated had 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 383 
 
 Mr. Adams ever met; Sir Alexander Cockburn 
 not having actively participated in English social 
 life during the period of Mr. Adams’s London 
 residence. 
 
 Meeting at Geneva at the time fixed, the 
 Board organized by the selection of Count 
 Sclopis as its presiding member, and then ad- 
 journed for six months to give the several arbi- 
 trators the time necessary to master, as best they 
 could, the elaborate arguments already in’ print, 
 amounting almost to a literature. Being the only 
 one among them thoroughly familiar with the 
 subject in all its aspects, Mr. Adams felt himself 
 comparatively at leisure. Going from Geneva 
 to the Riviera and thence to Italy, he was medi- 
 tating a trip to Egypt, when, suddenly, he found 
 himself recalled to America. A new and serious 
 difficulty had arisen in the path of the arbitra- 
 tion. Sir Alexander Cockburn, the British ap- 
 pointee on the board, had never regarded the 
 proposed plan of settlement with favor; and he 
 left Geneva distinctly prejudiced against it. He 
 would have liked to find some good and suf- 
 ficient pretext for bringing the arbitration to an 
 end ; nor, in his search for sucha pretext, did he 
 have far to go. It was found in the American 
 case, under the head of ‘ Indirect Damages.” 
 
 The generically so-called Alabama claims, as 
 advanced originally by Mr. Adams in his cor- 
 
384 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 respondence with Earl Russell, and as subse- 
 quently provided for in the Johnson-Clarendon 
 treaty, included only the direct losses resulting 
 from the depredations of such of the Confederate 
 cruisers as, during the civil war, escaped from, 
 or found refuge and comfort in, British ports. 
 So many ships had been destroyed; so much 
 damage inflicted. It all admitted of enumera- 
 tion and proof; it was definite and measurable ; 
 any jury could have passed upon it, and assessed 
 a verdict under well-established rules of compu- 
 tation applied in accordance with recognized 
 principles of law. Something more than this 
 had first been foreshadowed by Mr. Sumner in 
 his speech, already referred to, on the rejection 
 of the Johnson-Clarendon treaty in April, 1869. 
 Vague, intangible, admitting neither of measure- 
 ment nor of computation, this “‘ something ”’ sub- 
 sequently became known as the claim for indi- 
 rect or consequential damages. A single item 
 only, that of diminution of tonnage in the car- 
 rying trade, was computed by Mr. Sumner in 
 his. speech at a hundred and ten millions of dol- 
 lars; while he vaguely intimated that an ad- 
 ditional two thousand millions, or thereabouts, 
 something more or a trifle less, might be fairly 
 chargeable in the same way on account of the 
 prolongation of the war. Obviously, among rea- 
 sonable or reasoning men, such a claim was not 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 385 
 
 entitled to serious consideration. Preposterous 
 on its face, the suggestion of it was calculated 
 to excite derision. Even Mr. Sumner probably 
 did not look upon it as a thing convertible into 
 figures, or to be measured in pounds and pence. 
 His mind was then working in another direc- 
 tion. He meditated conjuring the British flag 
 out of the entire Western Hemisphere; and 
 this was the spectre with which he proposed to 
 exorcise! A result wholly visionary, except at 
 the close of a decisive trial of strength, was 
 thus to be brought about through an impossible 
 computation of quantities which did not admit 
 of ascertainment. ‘The device was in every re- 
 spect characteristic. Of course it does not need 
 to be said that no nation not wholly crushed and 
 helpless would, any more than an individual, 
 submit to be mulcted in this fashion. The pro- 
 posal was an insult, and its discussion would be a 
 humiliation. The United States had but to con- 
 sider what its own feelings would be if it were 
 insolently confronted with such a proposition. 
 The consequences are readily imaginable, there- 
 fore, when, on the distribution of what was 
 known as “the American case” at Geneva on 
 
 1 See the extraordinary memorandum submitted by Mr. 
 Sumner to Secretary Fish on the 17th of January, 1871, 
 printed by Professor Moore, International Arbitrations, i. 525 ; 
 also, Sumner’s Works, xiii. 127-130. 
 
386 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 February 15th, an examination disclosed the fact 
 that this claim for indirect and consequential 
 damages had in it been advanced. In the pre- 
 sentation, too, there was not a sign of humor, nor 
 an indication of a sense of absurdity. On its 
 face the claim was made seriously. It is need- 
 less at this point to enter into any elaborate 
 discussion of why this thing was done, by whom 
 it was inspired, or to what end it was designed. 
 That it was there, was at the time both plain 
 and sufficient. The treaty was endangered. 
 
 The London press at once seized on the matter. 
 The “ Morning Advertiser” opened on January 
 4th by asking whether it was possible that 
 ‘‘imbeciles and fools” could have so conducted 
 negotiations as to put it in the power of any 
 tribunal, ‘“‘even by possibility, to award our na- 
 tional degradation and financial ruin;” if they 
 had, it only remained for the nation at once to 
 resume a faculty it had so fatally delegated to 
 such “crass incompetency.” The chorus then 
 became general; and, in its turn, Great Britain 
 passed into a condition of hysteria not unlike 
 that experienced by the Northern communities 
 of the United States when they heard of the 
 Trent performance of Captain Wilkes. 
 
 The ministry bowed to the storm. Signifi- 
 cantly referred to in the Queen’s speech at the 
 opening of Parliament on February 9th, the 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 387 
 
 “indirect claims” became at once matter for 
 parliamentary discussion and diplomatic cor- 
 respondence. Mr. Disraeli, the leader of the 
 opposition, characterized them as “ preposterous 
 and wild,” equivalent to a “tribute from a con- 
 quered people;” and the Prime Minister, Mr. 
 Gladstone, in reply, referred to this language as 
 ‘“‘rather under the mark than an exaggeration,” 
 and was loudly cheered when he went on to 
 declare that “we must be insane to accede to 
 demands which no nation with a spark of honor 
 or spirit left could submit to even at the point 
 of death.”! The British commissioners in due 
 time each rose in his place, whether the House 
 of Lords, or Exeter, or the Oxford lecture-room, 
 and expressed their astonishment at the con- 
 struction put upon their handiwork; while pre- 
 sently Lord Granville began to exchange notes 
 on the subject with General Schenck, now the 
 
 1 This debate occurred in February, 1872. By the terms 
 of the treaty of Versailles, which, in February, 1871, exactly 
 twelve months before, brought the Franco-Prussian war to a 
 close, France, besides the loss of Alsace and Lorraine, had 
 been forced to submit to the payment of a war indemnity of 
 one thousand millions of dollars. This precedent, very fresh 
 at the time, was obviously present in the minds of those who 
 took part in the debate. The suggestion of some enormous 
 money payment was, therefore, less absurd than it would 
 otherwise have seemed, and much more offensive. Great 
 Britain was to undergo a fate similar to that of prostrate 
 France. 
 
388 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 American minister to Great Britain, and Sir 
 Edward Thornton with Secretary Fish. 
 
 The really unfortunate feature in the thing 
 lay in the discreditable turn it gave to what had 
 up to that point been a most creditable negoti- 
 ation, — one good in itself, and promising yet bet- 
 ter in what it might lead to as a precedent. As 
 the Earl of Derby intimated, it gave the im- 
 pression on the part of the Americans of “a 
 good deal of acuteness, —I will not call it by 
 a harsher name,’ —not pleasant to contemplate. 
 The real fact, however, would seem to be that 
 the indirect claims were inserted in the Ameri- 
 can “case” by those who prepared it, not be- 
 cause of any faith in them or a hope that they 
 might possibly be entertained, but in order to 
 get rid of them, and as a species of political 
 estoppel. They had been advanced by Senator 
 Sumner and advocated by General B. F. Butler, 
 —both factors in Washington not to be disre- 
 garded. They could not, therefore, well be 
 abandoned, while they were certain to be over-. 
 ruled. They were accordingly brought into the 
 case, and presented as clearly, fully, and vigor- 
 ously as possible, with a view to forestalling 
 home criticism. Meanwhile the British com- 
 missioners, understanding the situation of their 
 American associates, had assumed a tacit aban- 
 donment; and the language of the treaty was 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 389 
 
 intentionally so framed that, without any ex- 
 press renunciation of consequential damages, it 
 could be construed so as to exclude them.! As 
 a result, in order to avert a possible subsequent 
 danger, the one side presented with all possible 
 earnestness and apparent conviction a claim 
 which it knew to be preposterous and intended 
 to have overruled; while the other, taking the 
 thing seriously, gave way to an outburst of in- 
 dignation at what was assumed to be an attempt 
 to overreach. 
 
 Passing through London in February, on his 
 way home, Mr. Adams found the British mind 
 in much the same condition of ferment that he 
 recalled so vividly during the December of ten 
 winters before. Forming a tolerably clear idea 
 of the situation, he left for New York, arriving 
 there on February 21st, and going at once to 
 Washington to confer with the President and 
 Mr. Fish. Thence he returned to Boston, where 
 he remained until the following May, when he 
 embarked once more for Europe. 
 
 Meanwhile a new contingency arose, and, to 
 his own great surprise, Mr. Adams suddenly 
 found himself a prominent candidate for a presi- 
 dential nomination. The history of the move- 
 ment which culminated in the Cincinnati con- 
 
 1 This subject is very clearly and fully dealt with by Pro- 
 fessor Moore, International Arbitrations, i. 629-639. 
 
390 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 vention of May, 1872, and the nomination of 
 Horace Greeley as the opposing candidate to 
 President Grant in the canvass of that year, is 
 curious, and not without its humorous as well as 
 interesting features. It can, however, here only 
 be alluded to. President Grant’s first adminis- 
 tration, as it drew to its close, was not generally 
 regarded as a success. Many of the recognized 
 Republican leaders — men like Sumner, Schurz, 
 Trumbull, and Greeley — were in open insurrec- 
 tion, and they were supported by the most in- 
 fluential portion of the independent press. The 
 Democratic party was demoralized by repeated 
 defeat, and ready to accept any candidate who 
 might bring with him reasonable assurance of 
 success. ‘Any one to beat Grant” was the 
 ery. Under these circumstances, Mr. Schurz, 
 then a senator from Missouri, conceived a bril- 
 liant political cowp. By summoning a conven- 
 tion of the independent elements early in the 
 canvass, he proposed to forestall the action of 
 the Democrats, and to unite the entire opposi- 
 tion under one generally acceptable candidate, 
 as against the reélection of the President. From 
 every point of view, — character, experience, iso- 
 lation from party, known political views, and 
 freedom from recent controversies, — Mr. Adams 
 was, as a candidate, the natural and logical out- 
 come of such a movement. It was so intended 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 391 
 
 by those most active in it. The more influential 
 Democrats expected and desired it. Everything 
 pointed to it. When, suddenly, at the last mo- 
 ment, through one of those ingeniously devised 
 political manipulations for which New York has 
 from time immemorial been famous, Horace 
 Greeley was, as if by some sleight-of-hand trick, 
 substituted for Mr. Adams as the presidential 
 candidate of those political elements — includ- 
 ing reformers of the civil service, free-traders, 
 the Jacksonian Democracy, and the remnants 
 of the Southern oligarchy — to which Horace 
 Greeley had throughout his active and prominent 
 career been as objectionable as any man who 
 could have been named. The blunder, brought 
 about in the idea of some supposed superior 
 *“ availability,” was irretrievable, and resulted in 
 a political fiasco and personal tragedy. In No- 
 vember, the dazed and beaten opposition pulled 
 itself out of a slough of defeat in time to look 
 stolidly on while its odd and wholly uncongenial 
 candidate was borne to his grave. Mr. Adams 
 had then just returned home from the suc- 
 cessful performance of his last public service. 
 He had simply been saved from either a political 
 defeat, or a presidency predestined from its 
 commencement to failure. This he fully real- 
 ized. 
 
 Meanwhile it is a fact, curiously illustrative 
 
392 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 of Mr. Adams’s political isolation and the per- 
 sonal respect in which he was at this time held, 
 that in April, 1872, when his name was most in 
 discussion as the probable nominee of the Cin- 
 cinnati convention, then actually gathering, di- 
 rect overtures were made to him to induce his 
 acceptance of the second place on the ticket 
 with Grant. These emanated from no less a 
 person than Roscoe Conkling, and in the name 
 of the New York delegation to the Republican 
 presidential convention, to whom was to be 
 given the choice of a vice-presidential candi- 
 date. Mr. Adams declined to consider the pro- 
 position, and Henry Wilson was subsequently 
 decided upon. 
 
 Mr. Adams sailed for Europe on April 24th, 
 one week before the day fixed for the meeting 
 of the convention at Cincinnati. The first news 
 he heard on reaching London was of his own 
 defeat, and the nomination of Greeley. ‘ This,” 
 he wrote, “was odd enough. The unexpected is 
 what mostly turns up. This completely over- 
 sets all the calculations of the original authors 
 of the convention, for success with such a can- 
 didate is out of the question. My first sense is 
 one of great relief in being out of the mélée.” 
 
 It was now very questionable whether the ar- 
 bitration would proceed. The British attitude 
 was one of distrust, — uncertainty, with a ten- 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 393 
 
 dency to defiance. A novel feature in the arbi- 
 tration had been the presence in the tribunal of 
 a nominee of each of the high contracting parties. 
 The framers of the treaty probably had recourse 
 to this expedient in order to meet the obvious 
 objections to confiding a reference of such im- 
 portance to a board composed of individuals 
 whose familiarity with the English language was 
 not less a matter of uncertainty than was their 
 knowledge of the principles of law involved. To 
 both parties it seemed desirable to reserve some 
 means of insight into the methods of procedure 
 of a tribunal thus made up. This expedient now 
 ~ saved the arbitration. Mr. Adams, no less ear- 
 nest to bring a great and novel experiment to a 
 successful issue than the Anglo-American con- 
 troversies to a close, proved equal to the occa- 
 sion. The result turned on him. 
 
 Sir Alexander Cockburn now regarded the 
 arbitration as dead. So confident was he of 
 this that he dismissed the matter from his mind, 
 and went back to Geneva without putting him- 
 self to the inconvenience of making a study of 
 the case. As he subsequently expressed it in 
 the conferences of the board, “ he had not 
 known what Mr. Adams proposed to do.” Mr. 
 Adams “ proposed,”’ somehow, to carry the thing 
 through; and he did it. The British counter- 
 case once filed, as he told W. E. Forster, at that 
 
394 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 time in Gladstone’s ministry, when they parted 
 in London, “my business is to go to Geneva. 
 In case Great Britain should decline to appear 
 there, I shall urge the other arbitrators to go on 
 nevertheless to decide on the issues now made 
 up.” Reaching Geneva at the time appointed 
 for the reassembling of the arbitrators, he found 
 everything uncertain. A brief survey of the 
 situation satisfied him that there was but one 
 course to pursue. The knot had to be cut. 
 “We must,” he wrote, “ decide upon rejecting 
 the whole question of indirect damages; and I 
 must set it in motion, or nothing will come of 
 it.” He proceeded accordingly. 
 
 The English counsel were then communicated 
 with. ‘* What,” said Lord Tenterden, ‘does 
 Mr. Adams want? If he means business he 
 must go further. He must have the indirect. 
 claims rejected.” Adroitly seeing his colleagues 
 on the tribunal, one by one, Mr. Adams now ar- 
 ranged the method of procedure. After a pre- 
 arranged formal adjournment of the board on 
 the 17th, the five arbitrators remained together 
 for consultation. The French of Mr. Adams’s 
 Russian childhood now asserted its value; and 
 gradually, by a process which he described in 
 detail at the time, the reluctant Cockburn was 
 led up to intimating “that an extra-judicial 
 Opinion might be made, which, if satisfactory 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 395 
 
 to the United States so far as to extinguish their 
 demand, would not be disputed by Great Britain. 
 I saw at once the opening,” wrote Mr. Adams, 
 “and asked him directly whether such a step 
 taken here would, in his opinion, satisfy the gov- 
 ernment, and remove all obstacles to immediate 
 progress. He said he thought it would. I said 
 that, in that event, I was prepared to make 
 a proposition. I should be assuming a heavy 
 responsibility ; but I should do so, not as an ar- 
 bitrator representing my country, but as repre- 
 senting all nations.” The English member of 
 the Board then absenting himself from its next 
 meeting, the claim for “indirect damages”’ was, 
 under the lead of Mr. Adams, summarily ruled 
 out of consideration, as opposed to the prin- 
 ciples of international law. This obstacle be- 
 ing thus removed, and the decision accepted as 
 final by the United States, the requests for yet 
 further delay made on behalf of the British 
 were disallowed, and the arbitration proceeded. 
 A few days afterwards, as Mr. Adams was leav- 
 ing the Geneva Salle des Mariages, the chamber 
 in which the meetings of the arbitrators were 
 held, one of the newspaper correspondents 
 handed him a slip from the London “ Times,” 
 in which the whole success in saving the treaty 
 was attributed to his efforts. ‘‘Thus it goes 
 forth;”’ he wrote, — “the Chief Justice only 
 
396 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 echoed the voice of Great Britain. Well, I sup- 
 pose I must take that responsibility. Such a 
 success is far more precious to me than any nom- 
 ination or election to the place of President.” 
 At that day’s session “ the Chief Justice,” or Sir 
 Alexander Cockburn, had begged for delay in 
 which to prepare himself, on the ground that, 
 until then, he had not supposed that anything 
 would come of the arbitration. ‘ He was not 
 in Mr. Adams’s situation,” he said; ‘nor could 
 he foresee what Mr. Adams was about to do to 
 remove all difficulties.” The victory was com- 
 plete. 
 
 Into the subsequent history of the arbitration, 
 which, ‘‘ whether measured by the gravity of 
 the questions at issue, or by the magnanimous 
 and enlightened statesmanship which conducted 
 them to a peaceful determination, was justly 
 regarded as the greatest the world had ever 
 seen,” ! there is not space here to enter. The 
 award ($15,500,000) there secured in favor of 
 the United States was, for Mr. Adams’s public 
 life, what Cromwell called “the crowning 
 mercy.” Of his judicial carriage in securing 
 that result, the agent of his government subse- 
 quently wrote: “I must bear testimony to the 
 perfect and dignified impartiality with which, 
 throughout the proceedings, Mr. Adams main- 
 
 1 Moore, International Arbitrations, i. 652, 653. 
 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 397 
 
 tained his position as a judge between the two 
 contending nations. Of him, at least, it may 
 be said that his love of country never controlled 
 his sense of justice, and that at no time did he 
 appear as an advocate.” 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 CLOSING YEARS 
 
 THE days passed at Geneva were among the 
 most satisfactory and happiest of Mr. Adams’s 
 life. Everything combined to cause him to en- 
 joy them, — scenery, climate, occupation, social 
 surroundings, and, above all, success. On the 
 last day (September 14th) of the sessions of 
 the tribunal, and when its presiding member 
 had declared it dissolved, Mr. Adams wrote: 
 “Thus closed this great experiment, with as 
 much of success as could possibly have been 
 expected. I walked home, musing. It is now 
 eleven years since this mission was given to me. 
 Through good report and through evil report, 
 my action has been associated with its progress ; 
 and, now that it is ended, I have only to return 
 my humble thanks to the Disposer of events for 
 the blessing He thought fit to confer upon me in 
 carrying the matter to its end. I may hope to 
 consider it as an honorable termination to my 
 public career.” 
 
 On the 31st of October following, after ten 
 days of weather than which he declared he had 
 
CLOSING YEARS 399 
 
 never seen anything “ more dismal,’’ Mr. Adams 
 took his departure from London, though, “I 
 presume, never to see it again, with little re- 
 gret.” ‘ Yet,” he added, “I leave [Europe] 
 with no painful associations. To me it is con- 
 nected with the only brilliant part of my career. 
 Thus it is well it should rest in my memory.” 
 The active public life of Mr. Adams practi- 
 cally ended, as he had surmised it might, with 
 the Geneva arbitration. It had extended over 
 just thirteen years. It covered the whole period 
 of the civil war, including the process of recon- 
 struction ; and he was, in all respects, singularly 
 happy in the share of work allotted to him. It 
 was important; it was work for which he was 
 by nature peculiarly adapted; it was done amid 
 congenial surroundings; it was complete; and 
 it was successful. A public man could ask for 
 nothing more. The contentions in which he was 
 engaged were of surpassing magnitude, and in- 
 volved momentous consequences ; they extended 
 through a long period of time; they were carried 
 on wholly with foreign nations; and, in their 
 conduct, he came in collision with some of the 
 foremost of European public men. Yet his suc- 
 cess was as final as it was complete and unques- 
 tioned. When he landed in New York on No- 
 vember 13, 1872, he had a right to exclaim, 
 as he did, “lo Triumphe!” for every issue be- 
 
400 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 tween Great Britain and the United States 
 growing out of the great civil war either was 
 definitely settled, or was in course of early set- 
 tlement. His work was done; and done thor- 
 oughly. 
 
 Returning to Boston in November, immedi- 
 ately after the second election of Grant, Mr. 
 Adams found the business portions of his native 
 city a mass of smoking ruins, — the great Boston 
 fire having occurred during the previous week. 
 He at once resumed his former mode of life, 
 nor was it again disturbed. He was now at just 
 the age when his grandfather had left the presi- 
 dency to rust out his declining years in the 
 dreary monotony of a “dignified” retirement ; 
 at just the age also when his father, rebelling 
 at the idea of a similar fate, had flung himself 
 into that congressional career which proved the 
 most brilliant and active portion of his active 
 and brilliant life. Had he been fully and 
 keenly disposed, or had circumstances proved 
 propitious, Mr. Adams might, in the ordinary 
 course of nature, have yet had before him ten 
 years at least of active public service; years in 
 which, aided by the experience he had gathered 
 and the reputation he had won, he might most 
 advantageously have influenced the course of 
 events. In his case this was not to be. 
 
 Not that he probably would have disliked 
 
CLOSING YEARS 401 
 
 another term of place and power; for with him 
 too, as he one day wrote, “ public life was a 
 very fascinating occupation, but like drinking 
 brandy. The more you indulge in it, the more 
 uncomfortable it leaves you when you stop.” 
 Accordingly, he would now have not been dis- 
 pleased to hear that unequivocal call which 
 would have summoned him back to activity ; 
 but, though only just past the climacteric, 
 though four years younger than Lord: John 
 Russell when they first faced each other at Pem- 
 broke Lodge, he was now an old man. Ma- 
 tured early, he grew old early. Even in 1875, 
 only three years after he got back from Geneva, 
 while his name was still common in men’s 
 mouths and in the newspapers in connection 
 with the senatorship in succession to Sumner 
 and Wilson, with the governorship of Massa- 
 chusetts, with the Department of State, with the 
 presidency itself after Grant’s second term had 
 run out, —even then Mr. Adams was no longer 
 fit to bear the burdens of office. Responsibility 
 weighed upon him; work troubled him ; trifles 
 worried him. His powers, physical and mental, 
 having long since attained their growth, had 
 begun to decay; and the consciousness of it 
 saddened him. 
 
 He had also early in life assigned to himself 
 a task not yet wholly performed; and once 
 
402 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
 
 more he turned to the family papers. Arrang- 
 ing old letters, and, in the evening of life, read- 
 ing diaries, written by those now dead, of days 
 long past but still remembered, is at best to no 
 man exhilarating. So Mr. Adams now found. 
 Immediately after the return from Geneva he 
 had set to work on the publication of portions of 
 his father’s diary, which he entitled ‘‘ Memoirs.” 
 The first volume appeared in 1874. At last, on 
 a certain day in August, 1877, he found the final 
 volume lying on his table. The labor imposed 
 on himself nearly forty years before in connec- 
 tion with his grandmother, his grandfather, and 
 his father was completed ; and, laying down the 
 volume, he wrote: “1 am now perfectly willing 
 to go myself. My mission is ended, and I may 
 rest.” 
 
 Mr. Adams died in Boston on the 21st of No- 
 vember, 1886. Mrs. Adams outlived her hus- 
 band two years and a half, dying in Quincy on 
 the evening of June 6, 1889. Their married 
 life covered over fifty-seven years; and five 
 children, four sons and one daughter, survived 
 them. 
 

 
} We SUES 
 ‘ ae 
 
 
 
INDEX 
 
 ABOLITIONIsTs, begin agitation, 29, 
 30; hold meeting at Faneuil Hall 
 to denounce murder of Lovejoy, 
 34; accused of instigating negrocs 
 to rise, 38; their place in anti- 
 slavery struggle, 55-57 ; a symp- 
 tom of vitality in society, 56; 
 preach disunion and lose influence, 
 57, 75; not of much importance 
 after 1844, 58, 59. 
 
 Adams, Abigail, takes charge of her 
 grandsons in 1817, 10; reverenced 
 by them, 10, 11; her ‘ letters”’ 
 published by C. F. Adams, 40, 41. 
 
 Adams, Charles Francis, ancestry, 
 1,2; birth, 3; early education in 
 Russia and France, 4,5; in Paris 
 during the Hundred Days, 7 ; goes 
 to school in England, 8, 9; learns 
 to understand English character, 
 9, 10; under tutelage of his grand- 
 mother, 10, 11; education at Bos- 
 ton Latin School and in Harvard, 
 11; lives in Washington, 12; stud- 
 ies law under Daniel Webster, 12 ; 
 admitted to bar and married, 13, 
 objects to his father’s returning 
 to political life, 14, 16; later sup- 
 ports him earnestly, 16; attends 
 to his father’s financial affairs, 16, 
 17; contributes to ‘‘ North Ameri- 
 can Review,’’ 18; urges his 
 father to write a life of John 
 Adams, 19; publishes pamphlet 
 against the Patronage Bill of 1835, 
 26-28 ; rejoices at gaining recog- 
 nition independent of his father’s 
 reputation, 28; disapproves at 
 first of abolitionists, 30 ; laments 
 his father’s share in congressional 
 struggle, 30, 31; impressed by 
 
 Channing’s argument, 31, 32; 
 still slow to approve of agitation, 
 32 ; enraged at Bostonian coldness 
 over Lovejoy’s murder, 33, 34; 
 describes Faneuil Hall meeting to 
 protest, 34-36 ; indignant at Aus- 
 tin’s defense of the murder, 35, 
 36; regrets his inability to agree 
 with abolitionists, 36; from ob- 
 serving Southern congressmen 
 grows increasingly anti-slavery, 
 37, 38; writes articles on current 
 politics, 38, 39; reads his grand- 
 father’s letters, 39; publishes 
 ‘*Letters of Mrs. Adams,’ 40, 
 41, 
 
 Member of Massachusetts Legis- 
 lature. Declines nomination to 
 legislature in 1839, 42 ; accepts to 
 please his father in 1840, 42; a 
 Democrat in 1836, a Whig in 1840, 
 43; elected in spite of supposed 
 family unpopularity, 43, 44; his 
 father’s advice, 44; developed in 
 character by his legislative career, 
 46; considers state legislation 
 narrowing, 46, 47; sums up his 
 career and influence, 47, 48. 
 Leader of Conscience Whigs. 
 Agrees with others to found a 
 newspaper, 50, 51; ignorant of 
 newspaper management, 64; an 
 editor of the old-fashioned type, 
 67; his name does not appear 
 upon the paper, 68; receives no 
 pay, 69 ; opposesa third party, but 
 demands abolition of slavery, 69 ; 
 denounces Winthrop’s vote for 
 the Mexican war, 71; condemned 
 by regular Whigs as indecorous, 
 73; attacks Lawrence and Apple- 
 
406 
 
 ton for refusing to sign remon- 
 strance against admission of 
 Texas, 76-78; describes Webster’s 
 part in Massachusetts Whig Con- 
 vention of 1846, 80; depressed at 
 defeat of Conscience Whigs, 82; 
 on Sumner’s poor speech in Whig 
 Convention of 1847, 84; realizes 
 his lack of success as an editor, 
 87; grows weary of the enterprise, 
 88; relieved at abandoning the 
 paper, 88. 
 
 Free-So<! Leader. Plans a bolt 
 from Whig nomination of Taylor, 
 89; appointed delegate to Buffalo 
 Convention, ©; dreads nomi:a- 
 tion of Van Buren, 90; chairman 
 of convention, 91; nominated for 
 Vice-President, 91; gratified at 
 size of Free-Soil vote in Massa- 
 chusetts, 92; gains a reputation 
 independont of his ancestors, 93; 
 sensitive to sneers on this point, 
 93-95 ; confronted with his own 
 utterances on Van Buren, 95, 96; 
 his opinion of Van Buren in 1848, 
 96; his position as supporter of 
 Van PBuren illogical, 97; turns 
 from politics to editing the Works 
 of John Adaris, 100, 101 ; passes 
 several years in privacy, 101, 102; 
 in danger of becoming worn out 
 asa public man, 103; mentioned 
 to succced his father, but supports 
 Horace Mann, 10°; defeated for 
 Congress in 1852, 104; not sup- 
 ported by the Democrats, 104; 
 opposed by native Americans, 
 105. 
 
 Member of Congress. Nomi- 
 nated in 1858 for Congress, and 
 elected, 105; engages a house in 
 Washington, 106; neglects Gid- 
 dings’s advice and fails to ask for 
 a good appointment on commit- 
 tees, 111; given the merely hon- 
 orary succession to his father’s 
 committee position, 111, 112; re- 
 luctant to speak in the House, 
 112 ; urged by constituents, makes 
 
 INDEX 
 
 a set speech, 113; tribute of Cobb 
 to his moderation, 113; substance 
 of his speech, 113, 114; favors 
 nomination of Seward, 114; de- 
 pressed by nomination of Lincoln, 
 114; his opinion of Lincoln in 1860, 
 115; his part in campaign of 1860, 
 115; does not claim to have fore- 
 seen secession, 117; astounded 
 when it comes, 118; later says it 
 could have been stifled by prompt 
 action, 128; realizes necessity for 
 a conciliatory attitude, 129, 130; 
 sees necessity of preventing out- 
 break until after March, 1861, 130, 
 131; favors conciliatory measures 
 to gain time, 131; hopes to hold 
 border states, 131; represents Mas- 
 sachusetts in Committee of Thir- 
 ty-three, 132; not disappointed at 
 failure of committee, 132, 133; at 
 outset induces Southern extrem- 
 ists to show their plans, 134; 
 hopes in this way to put South in 
 the wrong, 134; does this by pro- 
 posing compromise measures, 136, 
 137 ; upon refusal of South to be 
 satisfied ceases to urge compro- 
 mise, 139; sums up his course, 
 his success, 139, 140; his speech 
 of January 31, 140-142; his 
 speech conciliates moderate men, 
 142; urged for Treasury Depart- 
 ment, 143 ; nc& considered by Lin- 
 coln for any position, 143, 144; 
 his appointment to English mis- 
 sion secured by Seward, 144; 
 visits Seward and Lincoln to con- 
 sult on instructions, 145; scan- 
 dalized at Lincoln’s indifference, 
 146. 
 
 Minister to England. On arrival 
 in London visited by Bates, 147; 
 surprised at proclamation recog- 
 nizing Confederacy as belligerent, 
 148 ; situation on his arrival, 158; 
 ignorant of Seward’s proposed 
 vigorous foreign policy, 167; an- 
 noyed by talk of Seward’s hos- 
 tility to England, 168; secures 
 
INDEX 
 
 interview with Russell, 175; 
 compared with Russell, 175, 176; 
 astounded at Seward’s dispatch 
 No. 10, 176; determines to pre- 
 vent war if possible, 178; inspires 
 respect and confidence in England, 
 178, 179 ; does not realize Seward’s 
 desire for a foreign war, 179; nar- 
 rowly escapes a humiliating situa- 
 tion, 195; tries to follow instruc- 
 tions without giving offense, 196, 
 197 ; protests against further Eng- 
 lish dealings with Confederate 
 commissioners, 197; Confederate 
 opinions of, 198 ; conderns shuf- 
 fling policy of Palmerston, 203, 
 204; offers accession of United 
 States to Treaty of Paris, 205, 206; 
 prepares the form of a conven- 
 tion, 207 ; on Lusscell’s demurring 
 closes negotiations, 207; makes 
 it difficult for Russell to treat 
 him as representative of North 
 only, 208; loses faith in honesty 
 of Palmerston ad-ninistration, 
 209; annoyed by depredations 
 of Nashville, 210; suffers from 
 social coldness i1 England, 214, 
 215; outdoes Unglish at their own 
 game, 215; seldom invited out, 
 215; visits Milnes, 215, 216; 
 learns of seizure of Mason and 
 Slidell, 216, 217; remains away 
 from London, 217; ignorant as 
 to details of episode, 215; his un- 
 easy situation, 219; asked by 
 Palmerston to c2"1, 220; describes 
 Palmerston’s suggestion not to 
 enrage England by naval seizures 
 in the Channel, 222-295; denies 
 any intentions of interfering with 
 British mailships, 224, 225; left 
 Without instructions in Trent af- 
 fair, 226; discusses facts of affair 
 with Russell, 227; tries to dis- 
 cover whether hostilities are prob- 
 able, 228; feels that Russell does 
 not wish war, 228, 229; thinks 
 letter of Weed too deprecating, 
 233; sends dispatch urging sur- 
 
 407 
 
 render of Mason and Slidell, 235; 
 his message not referred to in 
 cabinet, 236; receives news of 
 decision to surrender, 238; at- 
 tacked in London papers, 239; 
 distrusts Palmerston, 241; gradu- 
 ally thinks better of him, 242; 
 hopes in 1862 for end of war, 242, 
 243 ; receives furious protest from 
 Palmerston against Butler’s New 
 Orleans order, 248; suspects it 
 shows intention to pick a quarrel, 
 249 ; asks Palmerston whether it 
 is an official protest or not, 250, 
 251; shows protest to Russell, 251; 
 again receives protest from Pal- 
 merston, 252; answers, defending 
 the United States and insisting on 
 a reply to his previous question, 
 254; told by Russell to consider 
 it a private matter, 254; sends 
 telling reply to Palmerston’s final 
 note, 259; breaks off social inter- 
 course with Palmerston, 260; 
 finds Cobden, Bright, and Forster 
 friendly to North, 263; warned 
 by Forster of purpose of recog- 
 nizing Confederate belligerency, 
 264; not so well informed of Eng- 
 lish cabinet opinions as Confed- 
 erates, 283; suspects joint action 
 of French and English, 284; asks 
 and receives instructions how to 
 meet an offer of mediation, 284; 
 alarmed by Gladstone’s menacing 
 speech, 286, 287 ; tells the Forsters 
 substance of his instructions, 287; 
 secures interview with Russell, 
 289; learns that cabinet does not 
 support Gladstone, 289; reports 
 proposal of joint mediation by 
 Drouyn de Lhuys, 290; welcomes 
 Emancipation Proclamation as 
 fulfillment of his father’s prophe- 
 cies, 295; gratified by an address 
 in its favor from Manchester 
 workinemen, 298; receives a de- 
 putation after the final proclama-: 
 tion, 299; receives increasing 
 number of addresses, 299 ; for the 
 
408 
 
 first time conscious of any cordial- 
 ity in England, 300; receives depu- 
 tation of clergymen, 300; thinks 
 the meetings influenced Parlia- 
 ment against intervention, 302 ; 
 feels unmeasured contempt for 
 English cant, 305; warned of 
 progress of the ‘‘ 290,’’ 309; after 
 Confederate successes in 1862, 
 despairs of preventing hostile 
 action, 310; fails to induce Eng- 
 lish to prevent infractions of neu- 
 trality, 312 ; submits evidence to 
 Russell, 314; learns of construc- 
 tion of Laird rams, 316 ; tries to 
 increase pressure on Russell, 317; 
 determines to prevent war if pos- 
 sible, 318; forwards fresh evi- 
 dence about the rams, 319; not 
 aware ofattempt of United States 
 to buy the rams, 322; receives 
 sharp instructions, 322; efforts 
 of Slidell to counteract, 325; sus- 
 pects intrigue of Slidell in at- 
 tempt to force the ministry to 
 recognize the Confederacy, 331 ; 
 describes Roebuck’s failure in the 
 Commons, 332, 333; complained 
 of by French Foreign Office, 334; 
 receives news of Gettysburg and 
 Vicksburg, 335; describes anger 
 and incredulity of English, 335, 
 336 ; on Mason’s attempt to break 
 down Russell, 337; puts aside 
 Seward’s threatening instructions, 
 337 ; assumes responsibility, 338 ; 
 continues ostensibly to believe in 
 good faith of English, 338; declines 
 to discuss American affairs with 
 Confederate sympathizers, 339; 
 impresses Argyll with gravity of 
 situation, 339; fears government 
 will permit departure of rams, 
 340, 341; sends protests to Rus- 
 sell, 341; hears that government 
 will not stop the vessels, 342; 
 sends last solemn protest, 342, 
 343; notified that his protest suc- 
 ceeds, 343, 344; importance of 
 his action, 345; realizes without 
 
 INDEX 
 
 exultation the meaning of his 
 success, 348 ; reports English de- 
 light in reports of Confederate suc- 
 cess, 348, 349 ; now unchallenged 
 by Confederate intrigues, 350; on 
 Mason’s departure, 350; insists 
 on resigning after the war, 352; 
 hampered by irregular emissaries 
 during term, 352, 354 ; his friendly 
 relations with Weed, 354; at- 
 tacked in newspapers, 355; com- 
 plains of annoyances, 356; does 
 not enjoy diplomatic service, 356; 
 holds high .position during last 
 years, 357; continues Alabama 
 correspondence, 357 ; his part in 
 Fenian trials, 358; denounced by 
 extremists, 358 ; describes visit to 
 Spurgeon’s services, 359-363 ; his 
 opinion of English middle classes, 
 362; visits Canterbury, 364-368; 
 describes the Cathedral, 364, 365 ; 
 visits a concert of middle class, 
 366-368; describes breakfast at 
 Gladstone’s, 368-370; describes 
 Cobden’s funeral, 371-373; on 
 Cobden’s influence in England, 
 372, 373; describes Palmerston’s 
 funeral, 373-376; calls it impos- 
 ing but not affecting, 375, 376. 
 
 In the Geneva Arbitration. Re- 
 turns to America, 377; finds a 
 new political world, 377 ; opposes 
 congressional reconstruction, 377; 
 dislikes Democrats, 377; not 
 involved in any political strife, 
 378; returns to Quincy and pri- 
 vate life, 378; takes no part in 
 campaign of 1868, 378; meets 
 Grant at Boston, 379; declines 
 Presidency of Harvard, 379; on 
 effect of Sumner’s advocacy of 
 indirect claims upon England, 380; 
 visited by Motley, 380; not con- 
 cerned with negotiations preced- 
 ing Treaty of Washington, 381; 
 appointed arbitrator for the 
 Dnited States, 382; meets board 
 at Geneva, 383; recalled to Amer- 
 ica, 383; finds English enraged at 
 
INDEX 
 
 indirect claims, 389; mentioned 
 as candidate to beat Grant, 390; 
 not nominated, 391; at same time 
 declines offer of vice-presidency 
 with Grant, 392 ; returns to Eu- 
 rope, 392; decides to induce ar- 
 bitrators to throw out indirect 
 claims, 393, 394; consults with 
 arbitrators, 394; secures admis- 
 sion from Cockburn that if in- 
 direct damages be ruled out the 
 arbitration may proceed, 394, 395; 
 leads board to rule out indirect 
 damages, 395; scores victory over 
 English and secures success of 
 arbitration, 395, 396; his behav- 
 ior and services during the pro- 
 ceedings, 396, 397; his reflections 
 on the closing of the tribunal, 398; 
 returns to America, 398; survey 
 of his public career, 399; remains 
 in retirement from this time on, 
 400; mentioned for various offices, 
 401; his powers decay early, 401; 
 resumes work and completes his 
 father’s ‘‘Memoirs,’’ 402; his 
 death, 402. 
 
 Personal traiis. Ambition, 28, 
 92, 356, 400; coldness, 33, 46, 93, 
 112, 215; diplomatic ability, 175, 
 196, 208, 255, 289, 345, 357, 395; 
 early maturity and decay, 11, 46, 
 401; editorial ability, 64, 67, 87, 
 88; financial ability, 17; literary 
 ability, 18, 27, 38-41, 141; pride, 
 93-95, 111, 255; relations with his 
 father, 14, 16, 31, 82, 86; self- 
 command, 217, 358; self-esteem 
 44, 47 ; sincerity, 178, 396. 
 
 Political opinions. Abolitionism, 
 30, 31, 33, 36, 37; compromise in 
 1861, 134-138, 140; election of 
 1872, 392; Emancipation Procla- 
 mation, 295; English character, 
 8, 305, 335, 341; English middle 
 class, 298, 300, 302, 360-363, 367, 
 372; France, policy of, 249, 290; 
 Free-Soil party, 90, 96; indirect 
 Alabama damages, 380, 394, 395; 
 Lincoln, 145, 146; Mexican war, 
 
 409 
 
 71; neutrality of England, 309, 
 317; Palmerston’s policy, 204, 
 208, 220, 242, 376; political anti- 
 slavery action, 43, 69, 77; recon- 
 struction, 377; removals from 
 office, 26, 27; Republican party, 
 113, 114; Russell’s policy, 175, 
 204, 209, 337; secession, 117, 
 128; Seward’s war policy in 1861, 
 176-178; Treaty of Paris, 205; 
 Trent affair, 219, 228, 235. 
 
 Adams, John, efforts of C. F. Adams 
 to induce his father to write life 
 of, 19; his old love letters read by 
 his grandson, 39; his ‘‘ Life and 
 Works ’’ published by Adams, 101. 
 
 Adams, John, son of J. Q. Adams, 
 studies in England, 8; his repartee 
 to English boys, 8. 
 
 Adams, John Quincy, marries Louisa 
 Johnson, in London, 2; returns to 
 America, chosen to United States 
 Senate, 3; christens his third son, 
 Charles Francis, 3, 4; minister to 
 Russia, 4; familiar with French, 
 5 ; appointed peace commissioner, 
 5; describes Holland in a letter to 
 his son, 6; minister to England, 
 7; describes repartee of John 
 Adams, his son, 8; returns to 
 America to be secretary of state, 
 10; aided in his career by his son, 
 13, 14; reluctant to go into re- 
 tirement, 14; less mature in dis- 
 position than his son, 14; accepts 
 nomination to Congress, 15; his 
 career up to 1828 steadily success- 
 ful, 15; then undergoes political 
 defeat, family loss, and financial 
 ruin, 15, 16; his success in the 
 House of Representatives, 16; 
 careless in money matters, 16; 
 his affairs straightened out by his 
 son, 17; unwilling to write life of 
 his father, 19, 20; his opinion of 
 Jackson, 20;. his strong opinions 
 on national authority lead him to 
 support Jackson in 1835, 20-25; 
 indignant at Senate's attempt to 
 control patronage, 22; foresees 
 
410 
 
 dangers of Calhoun’s bill, 23 ; de- 
 nounces Webster for supporting 
 the bill, 24, 25; his argumenta- 
 tive style surpassed by his son in 
 pamphlet on the patronage issue, 
 26, 27; his fame overshadows his 
 son, 28, 29; his participation in 
 slavery controversy deplored by 
 his son, 30, 31; his successful de- 
 fense against Southern members, 
 31; again attacked, 32, 33; sug- 
 gests that C. F. Adams write a 
 life of his grandmother, 39; af- 
 fected by C. F. Adams’s memoir 
 of Abigail Adams, 41; induces his 
 son to enter legislature, 42; his 
 advice to his son on entering pub- 
 lic life, 44; has a paralytic shock, 
 82; leaves Quincy for last time, 
 85; his career of seventy years, 
 86; votes for Winthrop for 
 speaker, 86; his death, 87; leader 
 of anti-slavery sentiment until 
 1895, 98; his Memoirs completed 
 by C. F. Adams, 402. 
 
 Alabama, construction of, 309-314 ; 
 escape of, from Liverpool, 315; its 
 career as a commerce destroyer, 
 317; arbitration concerning, 392- 
 397. See Diplomatic History. 
 
 Albert, Prince, death of, 227. 
 
 Allen, Charles, at Whig Convention 
 of 1847, 83; at National Whig 
 Convention refuses to support 
 Taylor, 89. 
 
 Anderson, Robert, commands at 
 Fort Sumter, 124. 
 
 Appleton, Nathan, leading Boston 
 business man, 74; opposes slavery 
 agitation, 74; wishes to ‘‘save”’ 
 Sumner, 75; refuses to sign pro- 
 test against Texas, 76; lashed by 
 Palfrey, 76, 77. 
 
 Argyll, Duke of, in the cabinet op- 
 poses recognition of Confederacy, 
 283 ; visited by Adams, 339; im- 
 pressed by Adams with gravity of 
 situation, 339; at breakfast with 
 Gladstone and Adams. 368. 
 
 Ashley, Evelyn, his version of Pal- 
 
 INDEX 
 
 merston’s break with Adams, 240, 
 246. 
 
 Ashmun, George, at Whig Conven- 
 tion of 1847, 83. 
 
 Aspinwall, W. H., sent to buy Laird 
 rams, 354; false importance as- 
 signed to, 355. 
 
 Austin, James T., at meeting in 
 Faneuil Hall justifies murder of 
 Lovejoy, 34, 35. 
 
 Austria agrees to Declaration of 
 Paris, 201. 
 
 Banks, Nathaniel P., discarded by 
 Lincoln in favor of Welles for 
 Navy Department, 143. 
 
 Barnburners, revolt from Cass’s 
 nomination, 91; agree to unite 
 with Conscience Whigs if Van 
 Buren be the candidate, 91; re- 
 join Democrats in 1849, 98. 
 
 Bates, Joshua, head of Baring 
 Brothers, visits Adams on his 
 arrival, 147. 
 
 Becket, Thomas, observations of 
 Adams on, 364. 
 
 Bennett, James Gordon, type of 
 new editor, 67. 
 
 Beresford- Hope, denounces the 
 North, 279; denounces the Eman- 
 cipation Proclamation, 296. 
 
 Border States, do not favor seces- 
 sion, 120; necessity for North to 
 keep them until March 4th, 120, 
 121; hope of Adams to retain, 
 131, 134, 1389; affected by Adams’s 
 speech, 142; appealing letters 
 from, to Seward, 186; secede in 
 part, 190. 
 
 ‘Boston Centinel,’’ 
 Adams in, 26, 38. 
 Boston Latin School, studies of 
 
 Adams at, 11. 
 
 ‘Boston Whig,’’ taken as an anti- 
 slavery organ by Adams, 50, 51, 
 63, 67; its small circulation, 67; 
 its appecrance, 68; its political 
 attitude, 69; has difficulty in ex- 
 isting, 82, 87; a burden to Adams, 
 87, 88. 
 
 papers of 
 
INDEX 
 
 Bravay & Co. intermediaries in 
 Slidell’s scheme to gain the Laird 
 rams, 329. 
 
 Bright, Jacob, applauds Emancipa- 
 tion Proclamation, 299. 
 
 Bright, John, surprised at indiffer- 
 ence of North, 156, 157; certain 
 to oppose a slave power, 262; 
 suggests an American food con- 
 tribution for English working- 
 men during cotton famine, 276; 
 applauds the Emancipation Pro- 
 clamation, 297; lashes Roebuck 
 in Parliament, 332, 333; his emo- 
 tion at Cobden’s funeral, 372. 
 
 Brooks, Abigail Brown, marriage to 
 C. F. Adams, 13; her discoura- 
 ging criticisms on his life of Abi- 
 gail Adams, 40; her death, 402. 
 
 Brooks, Peter Chardon, father-in- 
 law of C. F. Adams and Edward 
 Everett, 13. 
 
 Brown, James, publishes ‘‘ Letters 
 of Mrs. Adams,’’ 40. 
 
 Buchanan, James, failures of his 
 administration, 107; vacillates 
 pitiably in 1861, 119; his filibus- 
 tering foreign policy, 202. 
 
 Buckingham, Joseph T., editor of 
 ** Courier,’’ 69. 
 
 Buffalo Convention of 1848, 90, 91. 
 
 Bulloch, James H., secures build- 
 ing of vessels in England for Con- 
 federacy, 306; plans to balk ef- 
 forts of Adams to detain them, 
 309; warned that vessel must 
 leave at once, 314; makes con- 
 tracts for two ironclads, 315; 
 alarmed by increase of English 
 supervision, 323 ; thinks their es- 
 cape hopeless, 524; arranges with 
 Slidell their sale to a French 
 firm, 329; annoyed by number of 
 Confederate agents, 353. 
 
 Butler, General Benjamin F., issues 
 order regarding New Orleans 
 women, 243; his action justified, 
 246, 247; abused in England, 248; 
 protested against by Palmerston, 
 249, 252, 257; superseded, to 
 
 411 
 
 English satisfaction, 258; urges 
 demand for indirect Alabama dam- 
 ages, 388. 
 
 Calhoun, John C., introduces bill to 
 give Senate control of patronage, 
 23; not a disunionist, 61; uses 
 threat of disunion to coerce the 
 North, 61, 62. 
 
 Cambridge, Duke of, at Palmer- 
 ston’s funeral, 374. 
 
 Canterbury, Adams’s visit to and 
 impressions of, 363-368. 
 
 Cass, Lewis, nominated by Demo- 
 crats in 1848, 90; desire of Barn- 
 burners for vengeance upon, 91; 
 resigns secretaryship of state in 
 1861, 134. 
 
 Cavendish, Lord Frederick, at 
 breakfast with Gladstone and 
 Adams, 368. 
 
 Channing, William Ellery, his pam- 
 phlet on slavery impresses C. F. 
 Adams, 31; his part in meeting 
 to protest against Lovejoy’s mur- 
 der, 33, 34. 
 
 Chase, Salmon P., a logical candi- 
 date for Free-Soil party, 99; his 
 position in Republican party in 
 1858, 108 ; reported as willing to 
 accept secession, 150; has to eat 
 his words in Trent affair, 237. 
 
 Cherokee Treaty debated in Con 
 gress, 37. 
 
 Choate, Rufus, argues for return 
 of fugitive slaves, 60; sneers at 
 Adams in 1848, 94. 
 
 Cincinnati Convention in 1872, 390, 
 392. 
 
 Clarendon, Lord, negotiates treaty 
 about Alabama claims, 380. 
 
 Clay, Cassius M., asserts equal divi- 
 sion in South between unionists 
 and secessionists, 187. 
 
 Clay, Henry, denounces Mexican 
 war bill as a falsehood, 73; vote 
 for, in Whig Convention of 1848, 
 89. 
 
 Clemens, Sherrard, asks Adams to 
 declare himself in 1861, 140, 
 
412 
 
 Clifford, John H., congratulates 
 Adams on his speech in 1861, 141. 
 Cobb, Howell, compliments Adams, 
 113; resigns Treasury, 133. 
 Cobden, Richard, astonished at 
 events of 1861, 156, 157 ; certain to 
 oppose a slaveholding Confeder- 
 acy, 262; meets Adams in United 
 States, 263; opposes blockades, 
 265; urges upon Adanis the aban- 
 donment of blockade, 265; but 
 holds to North in spite of the con- 
 tinuance of blockade, 265; de- 
 scribes to Sumner the Exeter 
 Hall meeting to applaud emanci- 
 pation, 301; on Mason, 376; in- 
 formed by Adams of danger of 
 war over the Laird rams, 338; 
 his death, 371; his funeral de- 
 scribed by Adams, 371-373; 
 Adams’s estimate of, 372, 373; 
 compared by Adams with Palmer- 
 ston, 376. 
 
 Cockburn, Alexander, says that 
 Dudley should have asked the 
 Lairds about the ‘‘290,’’ 311; on 
 Geneva arbitration board, 382; 
 wishes to break off negotiation, 
 383; regards arbitration as a 
 failure and neglects to prepare 
 his case, 393; reluctantly admits 
 that if indirect claims are rejected 
 the arbitration may go on, 394, 
 395; complains that he had not 
 foreseen Adams’s course, 396. 
 Compromise of 1850, 102. 
 Confederacy, question of recogni. 
 tion of its belligerency by Eng- 
 land, 148-171; purpose to coerce 
 denied by Seward and others, 151; 
 sends agents to England, 158; its 
 foreign policy, 159, 161-164; ex- 
 pects to force European aid 
 through cotton, 161-163; puts 
 discriminating tax on cotton to 
 force a European famine, 163 ; 
 belligerency of, recognized by 
 England, 170, 171; hopes of 
 Seward to win back by a foreign 
 war, 184, 185, 188, 189; thought 
 
 INDEX 
 
 by Seward to be imposed on 
 South by a minority, 185, 187; 
 really unanimous in 1861, 186, 
 187, 195; its emissaries not re- 
 ceived after first by Russell, 198; 
 necessity for North to blockade, 
 261; unable to send cotton to 
 Europe, 266, 267; dismayed at 
 failure of laborers to force inter- 
 vention, 271, 272; its hope of 
 ruling England through cotton 
 fails, 275, 276; praised by Glad- 
 stone, 280; denied by Lewis to 
 have achieved independence, 281; 
 has naval vessels built in Eng- 
 land, 306, 315; proposes to use 
 rams to break blockade, 316, 319, 
 320; its agents try to secure rams 
 by intrigue, 324-337; its bonds 
 sell at 90 per cent., 329; its credit 
 badly damaged by events of 1863, 
 and by detention of rams, 345-347; 
 damaged by irregularly accredited 
 agents, 353. 
 
 Conkling, Roscoe, in House in 
 1859, 109; offers Adams vice- 
 presidency on Grant ticket, 392. 
 
 Constitution, in relation to power 
 of removal from office, 21-29. 
 
 Corwin, Thomas, a possible Free- 
 Soil candidate, 98; chairman of 
 Committee of Thirty-three, 132. 
 
 “‘Courier,’? second daily paper in 
 Boston, 65. 
 
 Cowell, ——, describes Yankee 
 character, 294, 295. 
 
 Curtis, George T., at Whig Conven- 
 tion of 1847, 83. 
 
 ‘Daily Advertiser’? of Boston, 44; 
 organ of Webster, 65. 
 
 Dallas, George M., instructed by 
 Seward to prevent recognition of 
 Confederacy, 157; sends assur- 
 ance to Seward that Russell will 
 wait Adams’s arrival, 158; in- 
 formed by Russell of arrival of 
 Yancey, 169; induces Russell to 
 agree to wait for arrival of 
 Adams, 169; presents proclama- 
 
INDEX 
 
 tion of blockade to Russell, 171; 
 his dispatch causes indignation in 
 Washington, 174. 
 
 Damrell, William 8., elected to Con- 
 gress by Know-Nothings, 104; 
 reélected, 105. 
 
 Dana, Francis, C. F. Adams named 
 for, 4. 
 
 Dana, Richard H., shocked at 
 abolitionist fanatics, 56. 
 
 Davis, Isaac P., regrets Adams’s re- 
 fusal to accept nomination to 
 legislature, 42. 
 
 Davis, Jefferson, offers Yancey 
 choice of positions, 159; his un- 
 wisdom in selecting Yancey as 
 European agent, 159; ignorant 
 of foreign countries, 161; over- 
 estimates influence of cotton, 
 161; despises the military capa- 
 city of North, 162; expects to 
 starve England into recognition, 
 163; offers letters of marque 
 171 ; praised by Gladstone, 280; 
 on what Laird rams would have 
 accomplished, 320. 
 
 Davis, Reuben, calls Committee of 
 Thirty-three in 1861 a deception, 
 133. 
 
 Dayton, William L., reasons for his 
 appointment to French mission, 
 144. 
 
 Declaration of Paris, its formation, 
 200; attempt of United States to 
 accede to, 201-207. 
 
 Democratic party, defeated in 1840, 
 42; nominates Cass, 90; bolt of 
 Barnburners from, 91; dislikes 
 Adams, 104; split in, over Kan- 
 sas question, 107 ; disapproved of 
 by Adams in 1868, 377; foolishly 
 nominates Greeley in 1872, 391; 
 badly beaten, 391, 392. 
 
 Derby, Lord, opposes taking ac- 
 tion in regard to America, 302; 
 accuses United States of trickery 
 in pushing indirect claims, 388. 
 
 Dickens, Charles, laughs at Boston 
 reformers, 56. 
 
 Diplomatic history, mission of Dana 
 
 413 
 
 to Russia, 4; mission of J. Q. 
 Adams to England, 7-10; con- 
 troversy with France over spoli- 
 ation claims, 21; Ashburton 
 treaty, 48; Adams’s mission to 
 England, 147-376; recognition of 
 belligerency of Confederacy, 148- 
 171; effort of Dallas to prevent 
 English recognition of Confeder- 
 ate belligerency, 157, 158, 169; 
 McLeod case, 165; joint action of 
 France and England, 169; dealing 
 of Yancey and Rost with Russell, 
 170 ; English proclamation of 
 neutrality, 171; first conference 
 of Adams and Russell, 175; 
 Seward’s proposed foreign policy 
 in 1861, 179-195; protest of 
 Seward against reception of Con- 
 federate commissioners, 190, 191; 
 Seward’s career as secretary of 
 state, 196; negotiations between 
 Adams and Russell regarding 
 Confederate emissaries, 197, 198; 
 the Treaty of Paris, 200, 201; re- 
 fusal of United States to accede 
 to, in 1856, 201, 202; attempt of 
 Adams to secure adhesion of 
 United States to Declaration 
 evaded by England, 203-207; re- 
 fusal of Seward to permit dual 
 negotiation between France and 
 England, 205; the Trent affair, 
 211-238; preliminary conference 
 between Adams and Palmerston, 
 219-226; disavowal of Wilkes by 
 Seward, 227; friendly conference 
 of Adams and Russell, 228, 229; 
 refusal of England to negotiate, 
 233; England demands release of 
 prisoners and an apology, 235; 
 surrender of Mason and Slidell, 
 238; protests of Palmerston to 
 Adams against Butler’s order, 
 248-260; England prevented from 
 recognizing Confederacy by dis- 
 cord in cabinet, 281-290; instruc- 
 tions of Seward as to repudiation 
 of any mediation, 285, 286; at- 
 tempts of Adams to influence 
 
414 
 
 cabinet indirectly, 287, 289; de- 
 cision of cabinet not to take any 
 steps, 288; protests of Adams 
 against construction of Alabama, 
 309, 312-314; renewed protests 
 against construction of Laird 
 rams, 317-323; attempt of Slidell 
 to force retirement of Russell 
 and secure rams, 324-337; further 
 efforts of Adams in regard to 
 rams, 337, 338; Adams’s solemn 
 protest, 341-343; end of Mason’s 
 mission, 350; irregular Confed- 
 erate and Federal envoys, 353- 
 356; further correspondence over 
 Alabama claims, 357 ; negotiation 
 over Fenian disturbances, 357, 
 358; Johnson-Clarendon treaty 
 made and rejected, 380; Motley’s 
 mission to England, 380; Treaty 
 of Washington, 381, 382; Geneva 
 arbitration, 382-389, 392-397; or- 
 ganization of board, 382, 383: 
 repudiation by England of indirect 
 claims, 383-389; reasons for in- 
 clusion of indirect claims, 384, 
 385, 388; rejection of indirect 
 damages by board, 393-395 ; suc- 
 cess of arbitration, 396, 397. 
 
 Disraeli, Benjamin, opposes English 
 intervention in American war, 
 302; denounces indirect Alabama 
 claims as preposterous, 387. 
 
 District of Columbia, agitation for 
 emancipation in, 32. 
 
 Douglas, Stephen A., splits Demo- 
 cratic party with his popular 
 sovereignty doctrine, 107. 
 
 Downing, Charles, his speech in 
 Congress objected to by C. F. 
 Adams, 37. 
 
 Drouyn de Lhuys, proposes joint 
 mediation of England and Russia, 
 290. 
 
 Dudley, ——, informs Adams of 
 progress of the vessel ‘ 290,” 
 309; unable to induce collector of 
 the port to detain it, 311; warns 
 Adams that one ram is about to 
 sail, 341. 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Edwards, S. Price, knows character 
 of the ‘‘ 290,’ 311; refuses to de- 
 tain her without ocular proof of 
 her destination, 311; accused of 
 corrupt connivance, 311; his real 
 motives, 312; notifies vessel that 
 it may sail, 317. 
 
 Election of 1840, 42; election of 
 1844 a turning point in abolition 
 history, 57, 58; election of 1872, 
 389-392. 
 
 Eliot, Charles W., elected President 
 of Harvard, 379. 
 
 Ellice, Edward, entertains Adams 
 and Mason, 338. 
 
 Emerson, Rey. William, baptizes 
 C. F. Adams, 3; pastor of First 
 Congregational Church, 13. 
 
 England, first sojourn of Adams in, 
 8-10; Palmerston ministry in, 
 152-154 ; expectation of Davis to 
 coerce into alliance through cot- 
 ton, 161-164; takes lead of 
 Europe in matters relating to 
 America, 164; supposed hatred 
 of Seward for, 164; war with, 
 proposed by Seward as a remedy 
 for secession, 168, 180-195; re- 
 cognizes Confederate belligerency, 
 171; denounced by Americans, 
 172; its policy partly justifiable, 
 173, 174; danger of Seward’s 
 policy toward, 193, 195; agrees 
 to Declaration of Paris, 200, 201 ; 
 blocks effort of United States to 
 widen scope of Declaration, 202 ; 
 blocks attempt of United States 
 to accede in 1861, 204-207; cau- 
 tious about committing itself in 
 view of possible war, 204; would 
 have been involved in war with 
 United States had there been a 
 cable in 1861, 217; refuses to 
 negotiate Trent affair, 233; its 
 policy justifiable, 234, 235; its 
 demands for reparation, 235; 
 folly of war with, realized by 
 Seward, 238; suspected by Adams 
 of purpose to force a quarrel, 249, 
 250; cotton famine in, 265-271; 
 
INDEX 
 
 forced to feed laborers, 269-271, 
 276, 277; end of famine in, 273, 
 274; strong movement in, for 
 recognition of Confederacy, 279, 
 280 ; prevented from recognizing 
 Confederacy by discord in cabinet, 
 281-289 ; vessels built in, for Con- 
 federacy, 306, 307; law of, per- 
 mits neutrality to be evaded, 307, 
 308; obliged to supervise Laird 
 rams more closely, 323, 324; 
 finally decides to detain rams, 
 343, 344; buys the rams, 351; 
 high position of Adams in, after 
 this, 357 ; society in, described by 
 Adams, 366-371 ; scenery of, 371, 
 373; makes Johnson-Clarendon 
 treaty, 380; makes Treaty of 
 Washington, 381, 382 ; apologizes 
 for escape of Alabama, 381; ac- 
 cepts Geneva award, 395, 396. 
 
 English, their character understood 
 by Adams, 9; learn of America 
 from ‘‘ Times,’’ 151; aristocracy 
 among, rejoice at disruption of 
 United States, 155; their canting 
 criticism of the North, 155, 156; 
 middle class dismayed at indiffer- 
 ence of North, 156, 157; their 
 hostility foreseen by Yancey, 160; 
 suspect Seward as tricky, 164; 
 believe stories of his purpose to 
 insult England, 165, 166, 178; re- 
 gard Adams as sincere, 178 ; show 
 coldness to Adams, 214, 215; ex- 
 cited over news of Trent affair, 
 226; believe United States wishes 
 war, 230-232; undergo reaction 
 against Mason and Slidell, 239; 
 misunderstand Butler’s order re- 
 garding New Orleans women, 243- 
 248; their shamelessness regard- 
 ing women of the town, 244, 247; 
 regard Butler’s order with horror, 
 248; laboring classes of, favor 
 United States, 263-265; suffer 
 from cotton famine, 267-271; 
 laborers, although starving, still 
 favor the North, 272, 273; upper 
 classes denounce United States, 
 
 415 
 
 279, 280; denounce Emancipation 
 Proclamation, 291-296; do not 
 understand motives nor results 
 of proclamation, 294, 297; middle 
 classes of, applaud Emancipation 
 Proclamation, 297-302; anger of 
 Adams at cant and hypocrisy of 
 leaders of, 305; applaud failure 
 of Neutrality Act to prevent con- 
 struction of Confederate war ves- 
 sels, 308, 309; refuse on techni- 
 calities to retain Alabama, 311, 
 312; amused at idea of paying 
 for <Alabama’s damage, 318; 
 angry and disappointed at Gettys- 
 burg and Vicksburg, 335, 336; 
 eager to believe news of Northern 
 defeats, 349; excited over indirect 
 Alabama claims, 386-388. 
 
 Evarts, William M., sent abroad as 
 special agent, 354; false impor- 
 tance ascribed to, 355, 356. 
 
 Everett, Alexander, editor 
 ‘North American Review,” 18. 
 
 Everett, Edward, brother-in-law of 
 C. F. Adams, 13; urges him to 
 enter legislature, 42; congratu- 
 lates him on his speech in 1861, 
 141. 
 
 of 
 
 Faneuil Hall, meeting at, to de- 
 nounce murder of Lovejoy, 33- 
 36. 
 
 Faulkner, Charles J., minister to 
 France in 1861, 157. 
 
 Fillmore, Millard, becomes Presi- 
 dent, 99. 
 
 Fish, Hamilton, secretary of state, 
 corresponds with Thornton re- 
 garding indirect Alabama dam- 
 ages, 388; confers with Adams, 
 389. 
 
 Forbes, John M., visited by Cobden 
 and Adams, 263; sent to buy 
 Laird rams, 321, 322, 354; false 
 importance ascribed to, 355. 
 
 Forster, William E., friendly to 
 
 United States in 1861, surprised at 
 events, 156, 157; attributes to 
 United States a desire to pick a 
 
416 
 
 quarrel with England, 188; de- 
 scribes Adams’s coolness at time 
 of Trent affair, 216, 217; the most 
 effective friend of the North, 263; 
 visits Adams on his arrival, 264; 
 his services, 264; told by Adams 
 of his instructions not to receive 
 any offer of mediation, 287; 
 brings rumor of McClellan’s sur- 
 render, 348; at Cobden’s funeral, 
 373. 
 
 Fort Sumter, question of its reten- 
 tion in 1861, 124-128. 
 
 Fox, G. V., on danger to United 
 States navy from the Laird rams, 
 321. 
 
 France, expected in United States 
 to sympathize with North, 154, 
 172; really favors disunion, 154; 
 hopes of Davis to coerce by means 
 of cotton, 162; agrees to act with 
 Great Britain, 164, 169; agrees to 
 Declaration of Paris, 200, 201; 
 consults with England as to joint 
 intervention, 249, 261; cotton 
 famine and destitution in, 271; 
 urges joint recognition, 278, 290; 
 influence of Slidell in, 326, 327, 
 334; protests against Adams’s at- 
 titude, 334; follows England in 
 seizing Confederate war vessels, 
 351. 
 
 Free-Soil party, elements of, 90-92; 
 formed at Buffalo Convention, 91, 
 92; its vote in 1848, 92, 93; its 
 nomination of Van Buren illogical 
 and ineffective, 96, 97; breaks up 
 in 1849, 98; ought to have nomi- 
 nated a real anti-slavery man, 99; 
 casts small vote in 1852, 102. 
 Fremont, John C., Republican can- 
 didate in 1856, 102; recognized 
 in 1858 as incompetent, 107, 108; 
 planned by Lincoln for French 
 mission, objected to by Seward, 
 144. 
 
 Frothingham, Nathaniel L., brother- 
 in-law of C. F. Adams, 13. 
 
 Garrison, William Lloyd, mobbed in 
 
 INDEX 
 
 1835, 29; enrages slaveholders, 57; 
 ceases to lead after 1844, 58; really 
 hinders anti-slavery cause, 58, 59; 
 advocates disunion, 75. 
 
 Geneva, arbitration at. See Diplo- 
 matic History. 
 
 Gibson,. Milner, in Palmerston’s 
 cabinet opposes recognition of 
 Confederacy, 283 ; in communica- 
 tion with Cobden, 338; at Cobden’s 
 funeral, 371. 
 
 Giddings, Joshua R., consults with 
 Adams before Buffalo Convention, 
 90; advises Adams not to stand 
 on his dignity in Congress, 111. 
 
 Gladstone, William Ewart, chancel- 
 lor of exchequer in 1861, 153; on 
 the results of the cotton famine, 
 274; proclaims success of the 
 Confederacy, 280; comments of 
 Adams on, 286, 289; disavowed by 
 Russell, 289; his social ability de- 
 scribed at length by Adams, 368- 
 370; at Cobden’s funeral, 371 ; 
 calls indirect Alabama claims im- 
 possible, 387. 
 
 Gould, Benjamin Apthorp, head 
 master of Boston Latin School, 
 11; regard of C. F. Adams for, 11. 
 
 Grant, Ulysses S., his services com- 
 pared by Lowell with Adams’s, 
 345; not hampered by govern- 
 ment after fall of Vicksburg, 356; 
 supported by Adams in 1868, 378 ; 
 meets Adams at Boston, 379 ; con- 
 fers with Adams, 389; liberal 
 movement against, in 1872, 390, 
 391. 
 
 Granville, Lord, corresponds with 
 Schenck on indirect Alabama 
 claims, 387. 
 
 Greeley, Horace, contrasted as ed- 
 itor, with Adams, 67; nominated 
 for President to beat Grant, 390, 
 391. 
 
 Greene, Charles @G., editor of 
 se POSb. 4) Gos 
 
 Gregory, W. H., secures unofficial 
 reception of Yancey and Rost by 
 Russell, 170. 
 
INDEX 
 
 417 
 
 Grow, Galusha A., in Congress in | Itajub4, Baron de, on Geneva arbi- 
 
 1859, 110. 
 
 Hale, John P., a logical candidate 
 for the Free-Soilers, 99. 
 
 Hale, Nathan, edits ‘* Daily Adver- 
 tiser,”’ 65, 67. 
 
 Hall, Newman, applauds Emancipa- 
 tion Proclamation, 299. 
 
 Hamlin, Hannibal, consults with 
 Lincoln as to cabinet appoint- 
 ments, 143. 
 
 Harding, Sir John, breaks down and 
 fails to examine Alabama evi- 
 dence, 314. 
 
 Harrison, Benjamin, dealings with 
 Chili under his administration, 
 235. 
 
 Harvard University, offers Adams 
 position of President, 379 ; on his 
 refusal elects Eliot, 379. 
 
 Henry II., observations of Adams 
 upon, 364. 
 
 Hill, Thomas, resigns presidency of 
 Harvard, 379. 
 
 Hillard, George S., at meeting to 
 protest against Lovejoy’s murder, 
 34; praises Adams’s speech in 
 1861, 142. 
 
 Hoar, Samuel, 
 Charleston, 48. 
 
 Holland, description of, by J. Q. 
 Adams for his son, 6. 
 
 Holmes, Oliver Wendell, Jr., visits 
 Gladstone, 368, 369. 
 
 Houghton, Lord, at breakfast with 
 Gladstone and Adams, 368-370. 
 House of Representatives, slavery 
 struggles in, over right of petition, 
 30-33; votes that war exists by act 
 of Mexico, 73; election of Adams 
 to, 105; composition of, in 1859, 
 108 to 110; speakership contest 
 in, 110, 111 ; services of Adams in, 
 111-114 ; committees in, 112; ap- 
 points special committee of thirty- 
 three, 132; discusses compro- 
 mises without result, 132; Adams’s 
 speech in, 140-142 ; thanks Wilkes, 
 
 232. 
 
 expelled from 
 
 tration board, 382. 
 
 Jackson, Andrew, elected President, 
 14, 15; supported in his policy 
 toward nullification on French 
 claims and on power of removal 
 from office by J. Q. Adams, 20- 
 25. 
 
 Johnson, Joshua, consul in London, 
 2; grandfather of C. F. Adams, 2. 
 
 Johnson, Louisa Catherine, mother 
 of C. F. Adams, marries J. Q. 
 Adams, 2; familiar with French, 
 5; remains with her son in Russia, 
 5; joins her husband in Paris, 6, 
 7; presides over White House, 12; 
 kindness of Winthrop to, in 1848, 
 87. 
 
 Johnson, Reverdy, negotiates treaty 
 on Alabama claims, 380. 
 
 Johnson, Thomas, relative of C. F. 
 Adams, his career in the Revolu- 
 tion, 1; member of Supreme 
 Court, 2. 
 
 Keitt, Laurence M., in House in 
 1859, 110. 
 
 Kinnaird, Lord, the only peer at 
 Cobden’s funeral, 371. 
 
 Know-Nothings, carry Massachu- 
 setts, 104; oppose Adams’s nom- 
 ination, 105; dead in 1858, 108. 
 
 Laird Brothers, build vessels for 
 Confederacy, 306, 315; imposed 
 upon by Slidell’s scheme, 329. 
 
 Lamar, L. Q. C., in House in 1859, 
 110. 
 
 Lampson, ——, believes Washington 
 taken by rebels, 349. 
 
 Lawrence, Abbott, representative 
 Boston man, 74; his submissive 
 attitude toward slavery, 74-76; 
 assailed by Adams for refusing to 
 sign protest against Texas, 77, 
 78; supported by Webster in 
 Whig Convention, 79, 80. 
 
 Lee, Robert E., said in London to 
 have captured Washington, 332. 
 
418 
 
 Letcher, John, Governor of Vir- 
 ginia in 1861, 125. 
 
 Lewis, Sir George Cornewall, secre- 
 tary for war in 1861, 153; an- 
 nounces Queen’s proclamation 
 of neutrality, 171; thinks South 
 may win but ought not yet to be 
 recognized, 281, 283. 
 
 ‘*Liberator,’”? represents extreme 
 abolitionists, 65. 
 
 Liberty party, disapproved of by 
 Conscience Whigs, 69. 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, his debates with 
 Douglas, 107; not prominent in 
 1858, 108; his nomination causes 
 surprise in Washington, 114; after 
 March 4, more interested in dis- 
 tributing offices than in crisis, 
 126; decides appointment of cab- 
 inet, 143; on consultation with 
 Hamlin, passes over Adams to 
 give Navy Department to Welles, 
 143; selects Dayton and Fremont 
 for English and French missions, 
 144; finally yields to Seward and 
 appoints Adams to England, 144 ; 
 visited by Seward and Adams, 
 145; declines any thanks from 
 Adams, 146; astonishes and dis- 
 gusts Adams by his careless be- 
 havior, 146; calls for troops, 
 149; proclaims blockade, 170; 
 modifies Seward’s belligerent dis- 
 patch, 179; his ability not real- 
 ized in 1861, 181; develops 
 under trial, 182 ; considered weak 
 by Seward, 182; his undignified 
 rejection of Seward’s resignation, 
 183 ; asserts that a minority forced 
 secession in South, 187; rejects 
 Seward’s policy of foreign war, 
 191; wishes to protract Trent 
 negotiations, 233 ; issues Emanci- 
 pation Proclamation, 291; de- 
 nounced by English press, 292, 
 293 ; applauded by middle classes, 
 299-302; judgment of the ‘* Times ”’ 
 upon him, 303, 304. 
 
 Lindsay, W. 8., demands recogni- 
 tion of Confederacy, 280; speaks 
 
 INDEX 
 
 of recognition as deferred only by 
 divisions in the cabinet, 281; de- 
 nounces the Emancipation Pro- 
 clamation, 296; used by Slidell 
 to attack Russell, 330; visits 
 Napoleon III., 330. 
 
 Littleton, Lord, at breakfast with 
 Gladstone and Adams, 368. 
 
 London ‘‘ Times,”’ on dissolution of 
 Union in 1861, 150; on Trent 
 affair, 231, 232, 233, 238; pro- 
 phesies Confederate victories, 243; 
 denounces Emancipation Procla- 
 mation, 292, 303, 304; on Adams’s 
 success in securing Geneva arbi- 
 tration, 395. 
 
 Lovejoy, Elijah P., murdered in 
 1837, 33; excitement over his case 
 among abolitionists, 33, 34; his 
 murder justified by the attorney- 
 general of Massachusetts, 34, 35. 
 
 Lovejoy, Owen, in Congress in 1859, 
 110. 
 
 Lowell, James Russell, on value of 
 Adams’s services, 345. 
 
 Lyell, Sir Charles, on the perverse 
 predictions of the ‘‘ Times,” 243. 
 Lyons, Lord, sends blockade pro- 
 clamation, 171; warns Russell 
 against allowing United States to 
 accede to Treaty of Paris, 206; 
 presents English demand in Trent 
 affair, 236; detained in London 
 
 by ministry, 289. 
 
 McLean, John T., a possible Free- 
 Soil candidate, 98. 
 
 Madison, James, appoints J. Q. 
 Adams minister to Russia, 4; his 
 interpretation of appointing power 
 of President doubted by Webster, 
 24; compliments C. F. Adams on 
 his pamphlet on executive patron- 
 age, 28. 
 
 Mallory, 8. R., on the importance 
 of the ** Laird rams,’’ 319, 320. 
 Mann, Horace, succeeds J. Q. Adams | 
 in Congress, 103; has controversy 
 
 with Webster, 103. 
 
 Marchand, John B., commands 
 
INDEX 
 
 United States vessel at Southamp- 
 ton, 221; his naval ability, 222; 
 accused of drunkenness by Pal- 
 merston, 223, 224 ; his instructions 
 to watch the Gladiator and not to 
 catch Mason and Slidell, 225. 
 
 Marcy, William L., as secretary of 
 state, informs France of refusal 
 of United States to accede to 
 Treaty of Paris, 201. 
 
 Mason, James M., appointed by 
 Confederacy to English mission, 
 199; taken by Wilkes from the 
 Trent, 211; exaggerated impor- 
 tance assigned to, 212; his lack 
 of ability, 213; surrendered, 238 ; 
 surprised at cold reception in 
 England, 239; says that Lee has 
 captured Washington, 332; unfit 
 for task of persuading Russell to 
 let Laird rams go, 336; tries to 
 attack Russell in press, 337; 
 visits Ellice, 339 ; leaves England, 
 350 ; his subsequent career, 350. 
 
 Massachusetts, centre of anti-slavery 
 action, 62; Free-Soil vote in, 92; 
 carried by ‘‘ Know-Nothings,”’ 
 104, 105. 
 
 Massachusetts, legislature of, elec- 
 tions to, 48, 45 ; services of Adams 
 in, 45-49; passes resolutions op- 
 posing slavery, 48. 
 
 Mexican war, brought on by Polk, 
 62; voted for by Cotton Whigs, 
 63; attacked by Cotton Whigs, 
 71; denounced by Clay, 73. 
 
 Milnes, Richard Monckton, shows 
 civility to Adams, 215 ; impressed 
 by Adams’s coolness at news of 
 Trent affair, 217. 
 
 Montagu, Lord Robert, attacks Roe- 
 buck in Commons, 333. 
 
 Morrill, Lot M., in Congress in 
 1859, 110. 
 
 Motley, John Lothrop, consults 
 Adams on his way to English mis- 
 sion, 380. 
 
 Napoleon I., seen by C. F. Adams 
 during the Hundred Days, 7. 
 
 419 
 
 Napoleon III., plans Mexican 
 schemes, 154; favors disruption 
 of United States, 154 ; urges Eng- 
 land to intervene, 261, 278; co- 
 operates in Slidell’s scheme to se- 
 cure the Laird rams, 328; confers 
 with Roebuck and Lindsay, 330; 
 declares himself ready for inter- 
 vention, 331; disavows Roebuck, 
 333 ; at Slidell’s instigation com- 
 plains of Adams’s attitude to- 
 ward French measures in Mexico, 
 334; seizes vessels he has encour- 
 aged Confederates to contract for, 
 351. 
 
 ‘* National Intelligencer,’? Mexican 
 war bills denounced by, 73. 
 
 Nelson, T. A. R., affected by Ad- 
 ams’s speech in 1861, 142. 
 
 Newcastle, Duke of, Seward’s al- 
 leged revelations to, 165-167. 
 
 New Orleans, Butler’s order regard- 
 ing women of, 243; social privi- 
 leges of women in, 244, 245; But- 
 ler’s administration of, justified, 
 247, 248. 
 
 ‘¢ News,’’ of London, apologizes for 
 Emancipation Proclamation, 292, 
 293. 
 
 Newspapers, character of, in 1846, 
 64; leading ones in United States, 
 65-67; small circulation of, 66; 
 country press, 66; tone of it, in 
 1846, 72, 73. 
 
 ‘** New York Courier and Enquirer,”’ 
 its small circulation, 66. 
 
 ‘‘New York Evening Post,’ its 
 small circulation in 1842, 66. 
 
 ‘* New York Herald’’ begins sensa- 
 tional journalism, 66, 67. 
 
 Nicholas, Dr., studies of Adams 
 boys at his school, 8. 
 
 Noel, Rev. Baptist, applauds Eman- 
 cipation Proclamation, 299. 
 
 North, does not realize difficulty of 
 slavery question, 54; prevalence 
 of ‘‘isms’’ in, 56; dazed in 
 1860-1861, 118, 122; does not ex- 
 pect secession, 119; without a 
 leader in 1861, 123, 124 ; considers 
 
420 
 
 South Carolina a firebrand, 124; 
 bound to act on defensive as re- 
 gards Fort Sumter, 127; does 
 not understand Adams’s delaying 
 policy, 133; hopes of Adams’s to 
 unite by showing extravagance of 
 
 Southern demands, 134. See 
 United States. 
 ‘* North American Review,’ its 
 
 character and editors, 18; contri- 
 butions of Adams to, 18. 
 
 Nullification, Jackson’s attitude to- 
 ward, supported by J. Q. Adams, 
 20, 21. 
 
 Orr, James L., on absence of a 
 Confederate foreign policy, 158. 
 
 Palfrey, Dr. John G., editor of 
 ‘““North American Review,’’ 18 ; 
 consults with Adams about found- 
 ing ‘Boston Whig, 50, 51; at- 
 tacks Appleton for calling Texas 
 question settled, 76 ; has difficulty 
 in securing election to Congress, 
 81; at Whig Convention of 1846, 
 83; offers resolution to preclude 
 support of Taylor, 85; refuses to 
 vote for Winthrop as speaker, 86. 
 
 Palmerston, Lord, premier in 1861, 
 153; inclined to favor secession- 
 ists, 153; his management of 
 ‘opium war,’’? 157; held respon- 
 sible by Adams for evasions of 
 England in 1861, 204; does not 
 wish war, 219; his remarks 
 satisfy Adams, 220; asks Adams 
 for a private interview, 220; 
 foresees and wishes to avoid diffi- 
 culties over possible American 
 seizures of Confederate emissaries 
 on English vessels, 220-222 ; sug- 
 gests that such be avoided as 
 needless, 223, 224; reassured by 
 Adams, 225; good results of his 
 conversation during Trent affair, 
 236, 237; distrusted by Adams, 
 241; represented by the ‘‘ Morn- 
 ing Post,’’ 241; polite socially to 
 Adams, 242; writes furious letter 
 
 
 
 
 
 INDEX 
 
 to Adams denouncing Butler, 248; 
 suspected by Adams of trying to 
 force a quarrel, 249, 250; Adams’s 
 reply to, 250; repeats his denun- 
 ciation of Butler in a second let- 
 ter, 252; again asked by Adams 
 to state whether he is acting offi- 
 cially or not, 253, 254; his real 
 motives, 255; put in a false posi- 
 tion by Adams, 255; explains his 
 action to have been public, 256- 
 258; denies having cast imputa- 
 tions on the United States, 258; 
 Adams’s last reply to, 259, 260; 
 after a break succeeds in renew- 
 ing social intercourse with the 
 Adamses, 260; appealed to by 
 Roebuck to recognize Confeder- 
 acy, 279; thinks time has come to 
 intervene, 281 ; suggests methods 
 of intervention, 282; holds pre- 
 miership outside of party, 288; 
 acquiesces reluctantly in necessity 
 of doing nothing, 288; rebukes 
 Roebuck, 332; his death, 371; his 
 funeral described by Adams, 373- 
 376 ; Adams’s judgment of, 376. 
 
 Parliament, attempt of Slidell to 
 force resignation of Russell by 
 proceedings in, 330-333; really 
 sympathizes with South, but dis- 
 gusted with Roebuck’s attitude, 
 334. 
 
 Peacocke, G. M. W., denounces 
 Emancipation Proclamation, 296. 
 Pennington, William, chosen speaker 
 in 1859, 110; assigns Adams to a 
 
 sham committee, 112. 
 
 Persigny, M. de, said to have visited 
 London to plan Anglo-French in- 
 tervention, 249. 
 
 Personal Liberty bills complained 
 of by South, 136-138, 
 
 Phillips, Stephen C., consults with 
 Adams about publishing ‘* Boston 
 Whig,’’ 50; takes two fifths inter- 
 est, 51; his connection with Free- 
 Soil party, 52; at Whig Conven- 
 tion of 1847, 83 ; at Buffalo Con- 
 vention, 95. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Phillips, Wendell, his speech at 
 Faneuil Hall meeting after Love- 
 joy affair, 36; made prominent by 
 Southern abuse, 57; really hinders 
 anti-slavery cause after 1844, 58, 
 59. 
 
 Pierce, Edward L., describes Mas- 
 sachusetts politics, 70; describes 
 Whig Convention of 1846, 79. 
 
 Pierce, Franklin, election of, 102. 
 
 Polk, James K., sends message an- 
 nouncing Mexican war, 62. 
 
 ** Post,’ organ of Massachusetts 
 Democrats, 65. 
 
 ** Post,’’ organ of Palmerston, 230, 
 241; accuses Adams of stock 
 speculation during Trent affair, 
 239 ; its bitterness toward North, 
 241, 243; denounces Emancipa- 
 tion Proclamation, 292; denounces 
 Exeter Hall meeting, 300; an- 
 nounces detention of rams, 343. 
 
 Preston, William, minister to Spain 
 in 1861, 157. 
 
 Pryor, Roger A., in House in 1859 
 110. 
 
 . Prussia, agrees to Declaration of 
 
 Paris, 201. 
 
 Quincy, Edmund, becomes an aboli- 
 tionist, 36. 
 
 Republican party, its origin, 102; 
 elects a majority of House in 
 1858, 102; socially at a disadvan- 
 tage in Washington, 106; makes 
 a mistake in nominating Fremont, 
 107, 108; candidates for nomina- 
 tion of, 108; its existence defended 
 by Adams, 113; nominates Lin- 
 coln, 114; succeeds in election of 
 1860, 115, 116; bound in 1860 to 
 put South in the wrong, 122; 
 necessity of its changing tone in 
 time of triumph, 129, 130; ready 
 to disavow purpose to interfere 
 with slavery in the States, 137; 
 its reconstruction policy disliked 
 by Adams, 377, 378; dissatisfac- 
 tion in with Grant, 390; bolt of 
 
 
 
 421 
 
 Independents from, 390, 391; 
 wins election easily, 390; offers 
 vice-presidency to Adams, 392. 
 
 Roebuck, John Arthur, abuses the 
 North and urges intervention, 
 279; abuses Napoleon, 330; by 
 Slidell’s management, visits Na- 
 poleon, 330; moves in Parliament 
 to force recognition of Confed- 
 eracy, 331; mismanages attempt, 
 332; ruins his case by telling of 
 his dealings with Napoleon, 332, 
 333; lashed by opposition, 333; 
 withdraws his motion, 333. 
 
 Rost, P. A., Confederate agent, ob- 
 tains interview with Russell, 158, 
 169, 170; refused further recep- 
 tion, 198; declines to protest, 198. 
 
 Russell, George 8., withdraws from 
 contest for Republican nomina- 
 tion in favor of Adams, 105. 
 
 Russell, Lord John, his speech on 
 recognition of Confederacy sur- 
 prizes Adams, 147; foreign secre- 
 tary in 1861, 153; expected to 
 favor the North, 153; assures 
 Dallas of his intention to wait 
 arrival of Adams before announ- 
 cing attitude of Great Britain, 
 158; confers with Dallas on re- 
 ports of a blockade and on arri- 
 val of Confederate agents, 169; 
 agrees to postpone action until 
 arrival of Adams, 169; receives 
 Yancey and Rost, 170; announces 
 recognition of Confederate belli- 
 gerency, 170; finding himself in 
 wrong, grows cautious, 173; has 
 interview with Adams, contrast 
 of the two men, 175, 176; veiled 
 threat of Adams to, 197; says he 
 has no intention of receiving 
 Yancey and Rost, 178; refuses 
 to make England responsible 
 for Confederate privateers, 204; 
 looks upon recognition of Confed- 
 eracy as inevitable, 204; annoys 
 Adams by delays and quibbles, 
 206; asks United States to except 
 present difficulties from Treaty 
 
422 
 
 of Paris, 207; does not under- 
 stand significance of situation, 
 208; likes Adams’s directness, 
 208; grows more cautious con- 
 tinually,- 208; asks advice of 
 crown lawyers on right of a 
 United States vessel to board a 
 British mail steamer, 221; shows 
 no ill-will after Trent affair, 226; 
 discusses Seward’s dispatch, 227; 
 says hostilities not certain, even 
 in case of a diplomatic rupture, 
 228; disavows English precedents, 
 229; his attitude pleases Adams 
 229; on necessity for firmness 
 towards United States, 234; sends 
 dispatch demanding release of 
 prisoners, 235; surprised at Pal- 
 merston’s Butler letter, 251; tells 
 Adams to regard it as private, 
 254; pleases Adams by his atti- 
 tude, 255; agrees with Palmerston 
 that time has come to intervene, 
 281; calls cabinet meeting to 
 consider matter, 283; tells Adams 
 that Gladstone does not speak 
 for the cabinet, 289; admits the 
 Alabama case to be a scandal, 
 313; harassed by Adams’s argu- 
 ments, 317; irritated by escape 
 of ‘*290,’’ 324; attempt of Slidell 
 to force out of cabinet, 330; his 
 resignation rumored, 331; re- 
 mains in office, 333; accused by 
 Mason of subservience to Adams, 
 337 ; continued pressure of Adams 
 upon, 338; wishes to prevent 
 sailing of rams, yet finds politi- 
 cal obstacles, 340; appealed to 
 by Adams on September 34d, 341; 
 receives renewed and stronger 
 appeals, 342, 343; determines to 
 detain the vessels, 344; last pro- 
 test of Mason to, 350; negotiates 
 regarding Alabama claims, 357; 
 at Palmerston’s funeral, 375. 
 Russell, Dr. William H., sent by 
 ““Times’’ to America in 1861, 
 151; impressed with carelessness 
 of people about disunion, 151, 
 
 INDEX 
 
 152; reports popular ideas in 
 New York as to attitude of France 
 and England, 154; on Southern 
 faith in influence of cotton, 162; 
 on Seward’s fatuous optimism, 
 186; says American government 
 dare not surrender Mason and 
 Slidell, 231, 232. 
 
 Russia, action against, proposed by 
 Seward, 180; agrees to Declara- 
 tion of Paris, 201. 
 
 Schenck, General, American minis- 
 ter to England, 387. 
 
 Schurz, Carl, opposes reélection of 
 Grant, 390; tries to unite all ele- 
 ments by calling Liberal Republi- 
 can Convention, 390. 
 
 Sclopis, Count Frederic, on Geneva 
 arbitration board, 382; elected 
 president of board, 383. 
 
 Scott, Winfield, visits J. Q. Adams 
 in London, 8; remembers youth- 
 ful question of C. F. Adams, 9. 
 
 Seaton, William W., type of old- 
 fashioned editor, 67. 
 
 Semmes, Raphael, amused at idea 
 of England’s being called upon 
 to pay for Alabama’s damages, 
 318. 
 
 Senate, proposal of Calhoun to give 
 it power over removals from 
 office, 21-23; its encroachments 
 on executive foreseen by J. Q. 
 Adams, 23; rejects Johnson-Clar- 
 endon treaty, 380. 
 
 Seward, William H., a proper Free- 
 Soil candidate in 1848, 99; the 
 only Republican to show hospital- 
 ity in Washington, 106; ought to 
 have been nominated in 1856, 
 108; unable to control Republi- 
 cans, 108; fails to secure nomina- 
 tion in 1860, 114; makes long 
 stumping tour in campaign, 115; 
 relieved when Virginia refuses to 
 secede, 126; wishes Fort Sumter 
 abandoned, 127; urges Adams’s 
 appointment to English mission, 
 143, 144; introduces Adams to 
 
INDEX 
 
 Lincoln, 145; talks freely about 
 impossibility of coercion, 150, 
 151; instructs Dallas and others 
 to prevent recognition of Confed- 
 eracy, 157 ; distrusted in England 
 as unfriendly and unscrupulous, 
 164; his action in McLeod case, 
 165; said to have joked with 
 Duke of Newcastle on official 
 necessity of insulting England, 
 165-167; proposes foreign war in 
 his ‘ Thoughts’? submitted to 
 Lincoln, 167, 168; sends circular 
 regarding Confederate privateers, 
 171; indignant at attitude of Eng- 
 land, 174; sends belligerent dis- 
 patches, 174, 176; astonishes 
 Adams, 177, 179; his dispatch 
 modified by Lincoln, 179 ; willing 
 to provoke a foreign war, 179, 
 180; expects to be head of ad- 
 ministration, 182, 183; asserts 
 that South is not in earnest, 183; 
 believes that in a foreign war the 
 South would aid the North, 184, 
 185; believes in a strong Union 
 sentiment in the South, 186; 
 possibly inspires article in the 
 ‘* Times,”’ 188; repeats statement 
 to Russell, 189; willing to bring 
 on a world war, 189; announces 
 that reception of Southern com- 
 missioners would be an _ un- 
 friendly act, 190, 191; after re- 
 jection of his policy by Lincoln, 
 continues to believe in it, 191; in 
 dispatch No. 10, threatens war, 
 191, 192; expects a general war, 
 192, 193; his dispatch modified 
 by Lincoln, 194; instructs minis- 
 ters to. announce adhesion of 
 United States to Treaty of Paris, 
 203, 205; refuses to let England 
 and France act in union, 205; 
 very slow to enlighten Adams 
 after Trent affair, 226; finally 
 says that Wilkes acted without 
 instructions, 227; his reputation 
 for trickiness prevents England 
 from making any concessions, 
 
 Slidell, 
 
 423 
 
 231; still asserted to be trying to 
 bring on war, 232; defended by 
 Weed in a public letter, 233 ; his 
 conciliatory dispatch not in agree- 
 ment with American feeling, 234; 
 relies on Adams in whole affair, 
 236; recovers mental poise at 
 this time, 237; annoys Adams by 
 optimism, 239; sends news of 
 capture of New Orleans, 243; 
 tells Adams to refuse to entertain 
 any proposal to mediate, 284-286; 
 instructs him to withdraw in case 
 England recognizes the Confed- 
 eracy, 286; his instructions to 
 Adams regarding the Laird rams, 
 322; amnounces surrender of 
 Vicksburg, 335; his instructions 
 disregarded by Adams, 337, 338; 
 always supports Adams, 352; yet 
 at first annoys him by irregular 
 envoys, 352; denies reputed dis- 
 satisfaction with Adams, 355. 
 
 Sherman, John, in House in 1859, 
 
 109; candidate of Republicans 
 for speaker, 110. 
 
 Slavery, its situation in 1846, 53; 
 
 view of Conscience Whigs regard- 
 ing, 54-59; evidently not going 
 to die out in 1844, 59; attacked 
 in Lincoln’s Emancipation Pro- 
 clamation, 291. 
 
 Slave trade, proposal of South to 
 
 reopen, 135, 
 
 John, taken by Wilkes 
 from the Trent, 211; exaggerated 
 importance assigned to, 212, 213; 
 does not realize value to Confed- 
 eracy of his seizure, 213, 214; 
 surrendered by United States, 
 238; surprised at cold reception 
 in England, 239; begins intrigue 
 to secure escape of Laird rams, 
 324, 325; contrasted with his 
 opponent, Adams, 325; his abil- 
 ity, 326; gains good position in 
 France, 326; operates through 
 France on England, 327 ; aims to 
 force resignation of Russell in 
 order to secure recognition of 
 
424 
 
 South, 328; aims to break block- 
 ade by escape of rams, 328; ar- 
 ranges sale of Laird rams to a 
 French firm, 329; induces Napo- 
 leon III. to assure Roebuck and 
 Lindsay of his desire for inter- 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Bill, 23; under Lincoln, 126, 146, 
 182. 
 
 Spurgeon, Charles H., his religious 
 
 services described by Adams, 359- 
 363 ; prays for the success of the 
 North, 363. 
 
 vention, 330; his influence recog- | Staempfli, Jacob, on Geneva arbi- 
 
 nized by Adams, 331; instigates 
 French attack on Adams, 334; 
 stirs up Mason to renew attack 
 
 tration board, 382. 
 
 Stanley, Dean A. P., reads service 
 
 at Palmerston’s funeral, 375. 
 
 on Russell, 336, 337; fails in his| Stevens, Thaddeus, in House in 
 
 European intrigue, 347, 348; his 
 subsequent career, 350, 351. 
 South, aroused at first whisper of 
 abolitionists, 29, 51; expects to 
 coerce North by threat of dis- 
 union, 61; refuses to support 
 Douglas, 107; agitated by John 
 Brown raid, 109; not believed by 
 the North to be in earnest, 118 ; 
 not unanimous in favor of seces- 
 sion, 120; necessity for North to 
 keep it divided until March 4th, 
 121; extreme leaders of, wish to 
 force a conflict, 121 ; well led in 
 1861, 123; distrusts South Caro- 
 lina as extreme, 124; would have 
 been united by any attack on 
 South Carolina, 127; not likely 
 to have been cowed by a show of 
 vigor in 1860, 128, 129; efforts of 
 Adams to put leaders of in posi- 
 tion of refusing concessions, 134 ; 
 its real plans in 1861, 135; its 
 wrongs as stated in 1861, 136; 
 embarrassed by Adams’s offer of 
 compromise, 137; its leaders 
 drop mask and avow desire for 
 more territory, 138, 139. See 
 Confederacy. 
 
 South Carolina, expels Hoar, 48; 
 forced to deal with Fort Sumter, 
 124; generally regarded as ex- 
 treme, 124; prevents relief of 
 Sumter, 125; commits error in 
 attacking Sumter, 128. 
 
 Sumner, 
 
 1859, 109. 
 
 Charles, consults with 
 Adams and others about ‘‘ Boston 
 Whig,’’ 50, 51; has sharp corre- 
 spondence with Winthrop, 78; at 
 Whig Convention of 1847, 83; 
 makes a poor speech, 84; gains 
 prominence in Massachusetts, 100; 
 aids in securing nomination of 
 Adams in 1858, 105; lives in 
 apartments at Washington, 106 ; 
 on possibility of stifling secession 
 in 1861, 128; considers modera- 
 tion weakness, 130, 184; reported 
 as willing to accept secession, 
 150; wishes to protract Trent 
 negotiations, 233 ; introduces in- 
 direct claims into Alabama ques- 
 tion, 380, 384 ; his motives for so 
 doing, 385; his action nearly ruins 
 negotiations, 388; opposes reélec- 
 tion of Grant, 390. 
 
 Taylor, P. A., congratulates Adams 
 
 on the Emancipation proclama- 
 tion, 299. 
 
 Taylor, Zachary, his candidacy fore- 
 
 seen in 1817, 85; nominated by 
 Whig Convention, 88; refusal of 
 Conscience Whigs to support, 89 ; 
 his death in office, 102. 
 
 Tenterden, Lord, English counsel 
 
 in Geneva arbitration, 394. 
 
 Texas, admitted to Union, 62; final 
 
 protest against, in Massachusetts, 
 
 Spain, action against, proposed by| 76. 
 Seward, 180. Thornton, Sir Edward, protests to 
 Spoils system, proposal of Calhoun| Fish against indirect Alabama 
 to prevent, by the Patronage| claims, 388. 
 
INDEX 425 
 
 Trumbull, Lyman, opposes Grant’s 
 reélection, 390. 
 
 Turkey, adopts Declaration of Paris, 
 201. 
 
 United States, public conscience of, 
 in 1840-1860, 53; European atti- 
 tude toward in 1861, 148, 151, 152; 
 before April 15th, seems inclined 
 to permit secession, 149, 150; 
 its careless attitude surprises Eng- 
 lish, 151, 192; expects sympathy 
 from France but not England, 
 154; despised by South, 162; en- 
 raged at English recognition of 
 Confederate belligerency, 172; 
 refuses to accede to Treaty of 
 Paris, 201, 202; wishes under Lin- 
 coln to accede, 202; enthusiasm 
 in, over Wilkes’s seizure of Mason 
 and Slidell, 211, 226; disavows 
 Wilkes, 227; believed by English 
 to wish war, 230-232; folly of 
 popular feeling in, 233-235 ; its 
 respect for women not realized 
 in England, 244; furiously de- 
 nounced on account of Butler’s 
 New Orleans order, 249, 252; 
 sends food ships for English cot- 
 ton workers, 276, 277; abused by 
 English, 279, 280; alarmed at pro- | 
 spect of two Confederate rams, 
 320; tries to purchase the rams, 
 321; feeling in, with regard to 
 Adams’s attitude in Fenian nego- 
 tiations, 357, 358; changed be- 
 tween 1861-1868, 377; its claim | 
 for indirect damages an insult to 
 England, 385. 
 
 Vallandigham, Clement L., in House 
 in 1859110. 
 
 Van Buren, John, leads Barnburners 
 back into Democratic party, 98. 
 Van Buren, Martin, defeated for 
 President in 1840, 42 ; condemned 
 by Adams for subserviency to the 
 South, 43; nominated by Barn- 
 burners, 90, 91; his followers 
 
 
 
 wish revenge on Cass, 91; nomi- 
 
 nated by Buffalo Convention, 91 ; 
 his candidacy damages Free-Soil 
 ticket, 92, 95, 99; opinions of 
 Adams concerning, 96; no more 
 logical as a candidate than Web- 
 ster). 97,99... 1) 
 
 Villiers, C. P., in cabinet opposes 
 recognition of Confederacy, 283; 
 at Cobden’s funeral, 371. 
 
 Virginia, decides not to secede in 
 1860, 125, 126; calls Peace Con- 
 ference, 126; secedes, 190. 
 
 Wales, Prince of, at Palmerston’s 
 funeral, 374. 
 
 War of Rebellion, events in autumn 
 of 1861, 210; beginning of Confed- 
 erate privateering, 210; Union 
 successes in spring of 1862, 242, 
 243 ; Confederate successes in 
 summer, 310; effect of news of 
 Vicksburg and Gettysburg in Eng- 
 land, 335; siege of Charleston, 
 341, 342. 
 
 Washburn, Elihu B., in Congress in 
 1859, 110. 
 
 Washburn, Cadwallader C., in Con- 
 gress in 1859, 110. 
 
 Washburn, Israel, in Congress in 
 1859, 110. 
 
 Washington, social life of Congress- 
 men in, 106. 
 
 Webster, Daniel, advises C. F. 
 Adams to study law, 12; takes 
 him as a student, 12; supports 
 Calhoun’s Patronage Bill against 
 Jackson, 23, 24; denounced by 
 Adams, 24, 25; uses ‘* Advertiser ”’ 
 as mouthpiece, 65; his uncertain 
 attitude on Mexican war, 71; 
 brought to aid of Cotton Whigs 
 in Massachusetts Convention, 79, 
 80; at Convention of 1847, claims 
 Wilmot Proviso as his thunder, 
 83, 84; indorsed for presidency, 
 84, 85; does not realize hopeless- 
 ness of his candidacy, 85; vote 
 for, in Whig Convention of 1848, 
 89; sullenly supports Taylor, 89 ; 
 Adams’s attitude toward, 97; in 
 
426 
 
 Compromise struggle, 102; has 
 controversy with Mann, 103. 
 
 Webster, Fletcher, at Whig Con- 
 vention of 1846, 79. 
 
 Weed, Thurlow, Seward’s agent, 
 143; writes letter to ‘‘ Times ”’ in 
 Trent affair, 233 ; announces sur- 
 render of Mason and Slidell, 238 ; 
 makes himself useful to Adams, 
 354. 
 
 Welles, Gideon, reasons for his ap- 
 pointment to Navy Department, 
 143; approves action of Wilkes, 
 232; probably realizes uselessness 
 of Wilkes’s action, 237. 
 
 Whig party, succeeds in 1840, 42; 
 in Massachusetts, opposes slavery 
 in 1845, 47; Conscience and 
 Cotton factions in, 59, 60, 62; as 
 a whole, ready to yield anything 
 for sake of union, 61, 74-78; sav- 
 age controversy in, over attitude 
 of Cotton Whigs, 76-78; holds 
 state convention in Massachusetts, 
 78-80 controlled by Cotton Whigs 
 through Webster’s influence, 80, 
 81; its state convention of 1847, 
 82-85; attempt of Webster to 
 unite both wings of, 83, 84; in- 
 dorses Webster for president, 85; 
 in national convention nominates 
 Taylor, 88, 89; bolt of Conscience 
 Whigs from, 89; dies in 1854, 
 102. 
 
 Wilkes, Captain Charles, seizes 
 Mason and Slidell, 210, 211; be- 
 comes a popular hero, 211; his 
 act unjustifiable, 212; and need- 
 less, 212, 218, 219; contradicts 
 previous confident assertions of 
 Adams, 226; disavowed by Sew- 
 ard, 227 ; approved by Welles, 282 ; 
 thanked by House, 233. 
 
 Wilson, Henry, consults with Adams 
 and others regarding ‘‘ Boston 
 Whig,’’ 50, 51; describes Massa- 
 chusetts politics, 70; bolts party 
 at National Whig Convention, 89; 
 devotes himself to politics and 
 
 INDEX 
 
 gains prominence in Massachu- 
 setts, 100; nominated for Vice- 
 President, 392. : 
 
 Winthrop, Robert C., regrets 
 Adams’s rejection of nomination 
 to legislature, 42; votes in favor 
 of Mexican war, 63; denounced 
 by Adams for this vote, 71; his 
 sharp correspondence with Sum- 
 ner, 78; struggles to retain sup- 
 port of Whig State Convention, 
 79; reélected to Congress, 81; at 
 Whig Convention of 1847, 83, 84; 
 his success, 84 ; becomes leader of 
 Massachusetts Whigs, 85 ; secures 
 defeat of Palfrey’s resolution, 85; 
 elected speaker of House, 86; re- 
 fusal of Palfrey to vote for, 86; 
 his courtesy to Mrs. J. Q. Adams, 
 87; failure of attack upon him, 
 87, 88; congratulates Adams on 
 his speech in 1861, 141. 
 
 Wise, Henry A., fortunately not 
 governor of Virginia in 1861, 125. 
 
 Wood, Fernando, proposes secession 
 of New York city, 150. 
 
 Woodbury, Levi, impressed by C. F. 
 Adams’s pamphlet on the Patron- 
 age Bill, 26. 
 
 Wynford, Lord, shows hospitality 
 to J. M. Mason, 332. 
 
 Yancey, B. C., advises his brother 
 not to go on European mission 
 for Confederacy, 160; points out 
 that laboring classes in Great 
 Britain will oppose a slave power, 
 262, 299, 302. 
 
 Yancey, W. L., offered choice of 
 positions by Davis, 159; impolicy 
 of his selection as European 
 agent, 160; advised against 
 going, 161, 162; reaches England, 
 169; received by Russell, 170 ; 
 not received again, 198; wishes 
 to protest, 198; superseded by 
 Mason, 199; admits that cotton 
 alone is not dictator of commerce, 
 268. 
 

 
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