“But even in this view, as a scheme of embittered and sanguinary war, such a measure is not justifiable. It is a plot against the commerce of nations and the free intercourse of the Southern States of America with the civilized world. It is a project worthy only of times of barbarism.”
Lyons was instructed to speak in this sense to Seward, who, it was hoped, would disavow the project[535].
There was nothing in Lyons’ despatches, nor in the American newspaper extracts accompanying them, to warrant such accusation and expostulation. Lyons had merely commented that by some in America the project had been characterized as “odious and barbarous,” adding, “The question seems to depend on the extent to which the harbours will be permanently injured[536].” It will be noted that Russell did not refer to information received from Lyons (though it was already in hand), but to “apparently good authority” in justification of his vigorous denunciation. But like vigour, and like characterization of American “barbarism” did not appear in the British press until after the news arrived of the release of Mason and Slidell. Then the storm broke, well summed up in the Punch cartoon entitled “Retrogression. (A Very Sad Picture.) War Dance of the I.O.U. Indian,” and showing Uncle Sam in war-feathers and with war-club, in his hand a flag made of the New York Herald, dancing in glee on the shores of a deserted harbour across which stretched a row of sunken ships[537].
On January 13 the Liverpool Shipowners’ Association called the attention of the Foreign Office to the news that Charleston harbour had been closed by stone boats and urged governmental remonstrance[538]. Hammond at once replied quoting the language of Russell’s letter of December 20 and stating that further representations would be made[539]. On the sixteenth Russell again instructed Lyons to speak to Seward, but now was much less rasping in language, arguing, rather, the injury in the future to the United States itself in case the harbours were permanently destroyed since