Page images
PDF
EPUB

From The Spectator, 19 Sept. LORD PALMERSTON AND MR. LINCOLN.

reading off, as it were, the inmost thoughts of the millions of Yankee farmers whose political creed we in England are least able to unTHE two humorists who are at present vir- derstand. And these occasional dicta of Mr. tual dictators of English and American policy, Lincoln's certainly take a grasp of the Ameriand, each in his way, almost perfect repre- can mind not at all unlike the hold which sentatives of the political feeling of their re- Lord Palmerston's happiest expositions of spective nations, offer many curious points of English policy take of the English mind, and comparison in the way of contrast or resem- for very much the same sort of reason. They blance. It is, of course, not the least of those are both strongly logical as well as lucid in contrasts that the one is essentially a noble mind, though the American's style is someand the other essentially a peasant; the one times obscured by its deficiencies. Both Mr. a man of the world and of society, the other Lincoln and Lord Palmerston, again are rea rail-splitter and an attorney; the one a markable for the strongly secular character of man saturated with the diplomatic traditions their political modes of thought, being, inof half a century, the other fresh from local deed,-like Louis Napoleon, Cavour, and alpolitics and village squabbles. But it is a most all the greater politicians of recent times difference of greater moment that the one (Ricasoli alone excepted),—singularly careful was chosen because he had long excited ad- to disavow undue elevation of sentiment. miration for his shrewdness, ease, and au- Mr. Lincoln is as lucid, and, of course, much dacity; the other because he had never ex- more homely in explaining that he looks only cited admiration or attention at all out of his to considerations of national self-interest as native State, the one because he was con- Lord Palmerston himself. Look at the Presispicuous, the other because he was obscure. dent's letter to the Mass Meeting in Illinois, It is still more to the purpose that the English which we have discussed in another column. statesman's present power is a temporary It is not refined; it wont parse; it ends with trust, held only during good behavior, the a kind of intentional vulgarity, as if Mr. American's a constitutional lease, guaranteed Lincoln wished to speak to the Yankee farmfor a short term of years; so that in the aris-ers in their own dialect. Mr. Lincoln jokes, tocratic country the minister's power, given in his lower vernacular, about" Uncle Sam's because he was popular, depends on the endurance of his popularity, in the democratic, the power given because he was unknown is wholly independent of the qualities he evinces now that he is becoming known. These are the most striking contrasts. On the other hand, so far as each has gained personal influence of his own with his own nation, he has gained it much in the same way by interpreting its average wishes and will sagaciously, by anticipating their expression vigorously, and putting his foot down" boldly, with strong lucid sense, and with something of cynical humor, on a national policy, not too heroic in profession, but carefully toned It may seem odd to speak of Mr. Lincoln, down to suit the commonplaces of country-the temporary servant of a powerful democfeeling and resolve. No doubt Mr. Lincoln's racy engaged in apparently aggressive war,— personal popularity in America is nothing at as the mouth-piece of the conservatism of the all in comparison with Lord Palmerston's country. Yet that is his true power at the here. The Northerners are a little ashamed present moment even more than Lord Palof the rather vulgar personality which figures merston's in England. The President repso prominently in this great crisis of their resents exactly that conservative-aggressive history. His mind has shown itself slow and attitude of the public mind in which both hesitating, though never irresolute when English and Northerners are now best pleased once decided, and his dignity has not been to stand. Unfortunately for the United States equal on most occasions to ruling his own their conservatism has been put to the test of Cabinet. The consequence is that he has insult, which ours has not, and consequently only within the last few months gained any the whole conservative force of the country is personal, as distinct from his official, political poured out into the war, because it clings to influence, and perhaps it is even now not very the Union, and the Union has been broken by large. Still, he is undoubtedly rising in popu- the South. But that it is a kind of conserlar esteem, and some of his political profes- vatism proper, and in a certain sense, a far sions of faith have had a singular success in more narrow conservatism than Lord Palmer

[ocr errors]

web feet," to please the farmers, with just as much skill and humor as Lord Palmerston, in bis more polished way, has joked about our

Isthmian games" to please the racing gentlemen in the House of Commons. But after allowing for these differences of social latitude, the basis of the noble's and the plebeian's sagacity remains much the same,-a great tact in understanding the deep-rooted conservatism of the people at the present moment and a marvellous real and practical way of laying down before their eyes the practical alternatives still open to them for gratifying that conservatisin.

principle as the circumstances would permit. But, that is one of the results of being led by an aristocracy. They are accustomed to gauge the motive force of great principles as manipulated by great orators and intellectual leaders, and would never lose the advantage of a parliamentary alliance with a great principle if they wished to rouse the people to their full power. In America bare principles appear to have no such power, probably because there is no trained class of intellectual leaders accustomed to estimate the vantage-ground of a great principle. The politicians there ha bitually live from hand to mouth; and the people, themselves immersed in practical cares, unaccustomed to true political perspective, and very seldom meeting with any principles that are not a "bunkum" cry, get shy of and distrust them. Mr. Lincoln stands on the ancient ways as no aristocratic politician committed to a policy so vast and tasking would dare to do.

ston represents for England, of which Mr. | passions once roused,-would expect and deLincoln is the most effective spokesman in the sire stronger language than this, and as much United States, the anxiously tentative char- of the form, at least, of making war for a great acter of his anti-slavery policy sufficiently shows. Lord Palmerston, in speaking, as he has so often done, to an enthusiastic country, of the wisdom of keeping ready for active measures when you see a powerful opponent "with his hand on the hilt of his sword," has expressed precisely that shade of the sentiment of defiant defensiveness so dear to Englishmen, which actuates the masses whom Mr. Lincoln now rules, though as the scabbard of their opponent has been thrown away the defiance is more ostensible and the defensiveness less so. The Northerners are, in their own belief, fighting for national existence, as much as we should be in our belief, in defending our right to Ireland and Mr. Lincoln probably represents a more phlegmatic, certainly a less enthusiastically warlike phase of the Northern mind, than it would be possible for our great English statesman to assume against the leaders of any semi-successful Irish rebellion. This phlegmatic tone of his manifestoes has always been in singular contrast to the showy But, after all, it is not as representative productions of Mr. Seward and the newspa-politicians, but as executive politicians, that pers, and betrays the rural and conservative, the two rulers differ most widely. Mr. Linrather than the great city and propagandist, coln certainly represents his country quite as type of patriotism, in every word. It was adequately as our own Prime Minister; for the President's frigid declaration that he was the former represents it instinctively as an for the Union with slavery, if the Union could acute specimen of the Manchester operatives, best be preserved by retaining slavery,-with- or the French peasant proprietors would repout slavery, if it could best be preserved with-resent his class by naively confessing the inout it, and partly with and partly without it, ternal condition of his own mind,-and the if a partial abolition were the most efficient latter only as a shrewd statesman, who, after policy, which first won the confidence of the a life of nonchalant ambition and many blunmasses for his emancipation views. They, at ders from over-presumption, has at length acleast, did not want to make war for an idea, quired a distinct knowledge of how far he may but for what they were accustomed to; and safely cling to his own individual ideas,-how Mr. Lincoln delighted and convinced them by far he may express freely, and even with adso remarkable a saying that he, too, was quite vantage to his popularity, the feelings of the opposed to making war for an idea-for any- class to which he belongs,-and where he thing but the political reality of the past. must defer to the sense of dignity or the prej And now he has got half a step further, be- udices entertained by the people. The rep cause his people, too, have got half a step fur-resentative character of the one is nature, of ther; but his language has still the old secular, phlegmatic ring. He is as anxious as ever to show that the appearance of innovation is nothing but an appearance; that he has resisted steadily the idea of importing a principle into the war, of turning it into a moral crusade. The motive and end are utterly unchanged, if the means be new. "I did not ask you," he says, " to be taxed to buy negroes, except in such a way as to save you far greater taxation, to save the Union exclusively by other means." This is not the tone which Lord Palmerston would take if we were once embarked in a war for the conservation of the Union between Great Britain and Ireland. He would know that the most petrified English Conservatism,—the national

the other a carefully acquired art. But looked at as executive statesmen, the whole disad vantage falls on the backwoodsman,-and since he is not a representative but an executive officer, and his success in the former capacity only aids him in the latter so far as to give him the power to secure a certain sympathy for his views, and does not help him at all in carrying out those views, we have presented to us a very impressive contrast. Mr. Lincoln, as far as we can judge, has, if we except Mr. Chase, been surrounded by men his inferiors in honesty, shrewdness, and perspicuity of mind, but so far his superiors in education, fluency, and in public notoriety that he has been inore or less cowed by them. He has not only never kept anything like or

der, unity, or dignity in his Cabinet, nor ex- a statesman like Lord Palmerston. It is no ercised control over an expenditure so wasteful little credit to him that at the end of two that an English minister who had authorized years he is beginning to take up the reins for it would have been probably impeached; but himself, and to show that he can wield them. worst of all, he has allowed his own Secreta- A writer in the last number of the Revue ry of State and his foreign ministers in Con- Nationale, M. Eugene Despois, speaks of Mr. tinental Europe to bluster in a style which, Lincoln as "the eminent man whose name though as foreign as possible to his own candid posterity will place high above so many spusimplicity, has earned his Government the rious great men of our time and of all times." contempt of half the old world. His has been In some sense this is truc, because he has a Cabinet of all the Dodges, with a man, not succumbed to a political machinery aponly now beginning to be really at its head, parently invented to set him on a height, and who, we have good reason to believe, is quite then extinguish him. We incline to think incapable of any dishonest dodge. the mere raw material of this offspring of Here the extraordinary value of a class of political accident, but of a moral providence, trained executive statesmen shines out very at least as good as, if not better than, the conspicuously. The statesman who is set over raw material of our own favorite statesus is set there for his proved personal qualities man. But the moral of the comparison lies by the power of Parliament, and he has all the in the marvellous badness of the American stimulus, therefore, of knowing that he will be constitutional system which owes any remnant supported in the exercise of those qualities of virtue it may have to a special providence, by the whole force of the country. His abili- after having provided carefully, anxiously as ties, whatever they may be, are not only the it were, for a great miscarriage. While reason why he rules, but they are put on their Lord Palmerston's success is the legitimate mettle by the knowledge that it is so. We offspring of our parliamentary system, Mr. could see the striking effect of this popularity Lincoln's modest and somewhat vulgar but on Lord Palmerston in the Crimean crisis in respectable statesmanship is strictly a godenhancing all his natural verve and energy. send,-and, such as it is, has been achieved in We see it now, when the country is in quite spite of every obstacle which an elaborate another phase, in its sobering and restraining political machinery could manage to place in power, which gives a sort of judicial caution his way. to his naturally rather rash mind. Mr. Lincoln has had all the corresponding disadvantages to contend with. He had had no experience as a statesman or even as a public man to give the public confidence. He had, therefore, never inspired confidence either in himself or in any one else. He knew that no one believed in him. He probably was too modest and too hampered by the ignominious sense of ignorance to believe in himself. And yet he was at the head of a raw team of politicians in a moment of unexampled peril. Of course, he showed little decision and no address. He would not have been supported by the public in overruling the men around him. He was not trained to grave responsible action, and what powers he had for it were directly repressed by the greater confidence of the country in the theatrical stump orator whom he had been obliged to choose for his chief counsellor. All the conditions of prompt and wise executive action were in the highest degree unfavorable to him. Utterly unprepared by his past life, scarcely knowing whether he had anything in him at all, to fit him for his situation, and knowing exceedingly well that no one knew it if he had,-with sufficient sense and humor to be aware of his miserable plight, and not sufficient genius to rise at ence to the greatness of the occasion, all the circumstances of the situation, tended as much to paralyze him as they tend to inspirit

THE CAPTURE OF FORT SUMTER IN 1861.

THE following sketch was written by a talented Northern lady who resided in Charleston at the time Fort Sumter was wrested from Major Anderson and his gallant little band. The events Charleston lend new interest to this scene now transpiring at from the past, which, as will be noticed, was delineated on the spot and soon after the fall of Sumter.-Boston Journal.

A BATTERY VIEW.

April 12 and 13, 1861! How will it sound in history yet to be written? It is not familiar to the car like April 19 and June 17. May it not be only the first of a series of quite as unfamiliar dates whose records shall be written in blood?

These two days in Charleston business has been utterly neglected, and the streets deserted and empty. These two days the fashionable promenade overlooking the water has been crowded with an cager multitude, watching while an encircling line of batteries, well ammunitioned and fully manned, threw shot and shell unceasingly at one fort, where some sixty men, with small stock of ammunition and almost no provisions, re

turned the fire with wonderful perseverance. The cannon's roar has ceased, and night has let fall her mantle over the scene. The battle is over. April 12 and 13, 1861, belong to history. How will the story read ten years hence?

hore the sound of every gun toward the city and far from the coast, twenty, thirty, and even sixty miles into the country, where those who were improving their last safe chance of country life in this poisonous swamp region, counted with trembling lips the reports which followed each other in rapid succession, and feared the worst.

All day the deafening roar continued with occasional pauses, and all day the watchers saw nothing but the volumes of smoke which foretold the explosion of the guns from the different fortifications. Still the flags of South Carolina and the Confederate States were on all the islands and the shipping, and alone on its lofty staff on Sumter the flag which fills the hearts of some at least of the watchers "with memories sweet and endless" floats in the breeze. Reports carly in the morning say that one of Anderson's shots, which came with beautiful precision every five minutes into Fort Moultrie, has killed twenty-seven men. Later despatches relieve the terrible anxiety by saying that no one is injured, and through the day despatches from the different fortifications still repeat the hardly creditable tale that no one is injured. The day goes on, and comes to an end, and with the fall of night the reports of cannon are less frequent. All day large vessels are distinctly visible, to the right of Sumter and out of the range of the guns. It is supposed that they will attempt to reinforce Anderson at high tide, which will be about nine in the evening. The cannon fire at intervals all night, and we wait impatiently the coming day.

We said the streets were deserted. The gateways to the yards, however, always contain negroes, who stood in clusters, idly watching the few who passed on their way to the Battery. They were probably the sole occupants of the premises. They talked to each other as they stood, and one woman remarked, “Dis jes' like Fourth ob July ! and perhaps that was the best description that could be given of the appearance of the city. And so high and low, rich and poor, the patrician families of South Carolina and the plebeian resident Yankees found their way to the Battery. You have already had some description of this favorite promenade and pride of Charleston-and know that it runs close to the water's edge along part of the east and south sides of the city. The South Battery lies in front of what is called White Point Garden, a space of ground enclosed by an iron fence, and crossed by walks. Grass refuses to grow in this climate, but the clover, in patches, is beautifully green. The East Battery is lined on the side of the water by a sidewalk of broad flag-stones, sufficiently elevated to be out of the reach of the waves, except in unusually heavy gales. The South Battery faces James Island. Standing on the East, one looks straight out to sea; James Island, and further out Morris's Island, lie on the right; Castle Pinckney, on a mud shoal close to the city, on the left; farther down, Sullivan's Island, with Fort Moultrie at its extreme end; between the two, and just opposite the city, at a distance of about three miles, Fort Sumter, the only spot where, from December 20 to April 13, the flag of the United States of America has floated within the jurisdiction of the "Independent Commonwealth of South Carolina." Above Fort Moultrie, on Sullivan's Let us go thither. Many of the stores Island, are several other batteries, and the have their doors open, but no shutters are far-famed Floating Battery lies off the island, unclosed and only necessary business is transto the left of the observer. Major Stevens's acted. We go down Meeting Street, past iron-clad battery is on the right, on Morris's Institute or Secession Hall, and remember Island, and a long chain of other fortifica- the scene of the twentieth of last December tions extend over the low, sandy islands all there. Saddled horses stand waiting at the around the harbor. door, and remind us that General BeaureThe city has been in a state of intense ex-gard's office is within. As we turn down citement all the week. Anderson has been Water Street, which leads to the East Batsummoned to surrender and has refused. His last refusal was received at one o'clock Friday morning, April 12, and as soon as the gray dawn showed, the fortifications opened fire upon him. The Battery, the house-tops, the windows of the adjacent houses were thronged all day. A strong north-east wind

The sun rises cloudless and bright on one of the April days which are like the June days of New England, but the wind has shifted, and we hear no reports. It is believed that the firing has ceased; why, no one can tell; but at the battery the volumes of smoke still show that it has not, though even there it is almost impossible to hear the sound.

tery, the crowd becomes visible lining the sidewalk. Making our way between the carriages which fill the street, we mount the steps leading to the sidewalk, and, taking up our position in the least crowded part, turn our attention to the harbor. The reports come deadened to the ear, though one can

easily enough tell whence the shot come by the smoke.

ing but waves, and you can see plenty anywhere just like them.

"Doubleday is killed," says another. " They saw him from Moultrie," lying on top of the ramparts."

The crowd increases and is composed of all materials. Women of all ages and ranks of life look eagerly out with spy-glasses and opera-glasses. Children talk and laugh and This remark is answered with an aryuwalk back and forth in the small moving mentum ad hominem by a boy who says, space as if they were at a public show. Now" Look now, do you see that mosquito just on and then a man in military dress goes hastily the corner of that flag in Sumter?" and a past. Grave men talk in groups. Young dignified silence follows. men smoke, and calculate probabilities, and compare conflicting reports, and still the guns send forth their deadly missiles, and the light cloud, ssuddenly appearing and hanging over the fort till dispersed by the wind, tell of the shells which explode before they reach their destination.

"There goes Stevens again! He gives it to 'em strong," and a puff of white smoke rises from the iron-clad battery.

"Look! did you see the bricks fly then from the end of the fort? She struck that time."

"What is that smoke over Sumter? Is it not smoke?" and all glasses and eyes are turned in that direction and watch eagerly. It increases in volume and rolls off scaward. What can it be? Is he going to blow up the fort? Is he heating shot? What is it? Still the batteries around keep up a continual fire, and Anderson's guns, amidst a cloud of smoke, return with two or three discharges. Suddenly a white cloud rises from Sumter and a loud report tells of the explosion of some magazine. "Probably a magazine on the roof for his barbette guns," and the firing goes on.

Now the smoke rises over Sumter again; black smoke, and curls away, but no other signs of life. We watch, and, as we watch, it grows blacker and thicker. The fort must be on fire.

"Yes, can't you see the flame? there, at the south angle, you can see it through this glass. Look now!

The smoke hides all one side of the fort, and the leaping flames leave no room for doubt. They spread till it seems as if the whole fort was a sheet of flame within, and the firing goes on as if nothing new had happened, but no signs of life at Fort Sumter. Why don't the fleet do something? How can men with blood in their veins idly watch the scene, and not lend a helping hand when they have the power? They must be armed vessels. Is. Anderson still in the fort? No signal comes from there, and the firing continues, and the shells explode around and within, and the dense black smoke rolls away and the flames leap round the flag-staff, as it seems.

Now you'll see that old flag go down," says a boy with a spy-glass.

That old flag!

We listen and watch in mournful silence, "Look out! Moultrie speaks again!" and hear the beating of our heart as the flames and another puff of smoke points out the posi-rise higher and fiercer. What does it mean? tion of that fort, followed by one from the floating battery of the others. We listen and watch.

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

Look! can't you see those little boats? Three little boats a hundred yards apart. They are certainly coming."

Anderson can't be in the fort. IIe must have gone. Ile must be on board the fleet or they could not stand idly by at such a moment.

"He has probably left slow matches to some. of his guns. He means to burn up the fortto blow it up."

"Captain Foster intimated that it was undermined," says another.

Still the flag-staff stands, though the flames are red around it.

"It would be a bad omen if that flag should stand all this fire," says a gentleman at our side, as he hands us his glass. We level it and look.

A vessel lies at anchor just between, and the flag of the Confederate States, fluttering from the fore, completely conceals the staff at Sumter. We move impatiently far to the right to get rid of it, and see with throbbing heart the flag still safe, and watch with sickening anxiety.

"Yes," replies a woman, an opera-glass at her eyes, "the papers this morning said they were to reinforce with small boats, which were to keep at a great distance from each other." Another explosion, which scatters the Another, incredulous, says they are noth-smoke for a while.

« PreviousContinue »