July 29, 1862

Telegraph from Sir Arthur Kirkland in London to Francis Bonnefoy in Paris

FRANCIS=

URGENT. A. F. JONES UNSTABLE. DO NOT CONTACT. IF CONTACTED, DO NOT RESPOND.

IT IS WORSE THAN 1649.

LETTER TO FOLLOW=

ARTHUR

August 1, 1862

Letter from Sir Arthur Kirkland in London to Francis Bonnefoy in Paris

Dear Francis,

It has likely been an entire age since I last wrote to you outside the bounds of politics or petty diplomacy, and I find myself utterly unsure of what sort of civil niceties I ought to address to you at the beginning of a letter. You are likely to reprimand me for this, but I assure you I have not forgotten my sense of etiquette, only my composure. I hope you received my telegram this last Tuesday. I did not know if you would be at home, or still abroad. In any case, I can be nothing but short in my explanation because I am too shaken to do anything else. If you had told me eighty years ago that Alfred Jones would continue to infect me with such fervent anxiety so far into the new century, I would've shot myself in the head.

The Confederates have sent envoys to London multiple times now, and I know they've traveled to Paris as well. They seek to curry European favour to their cause, something too many of my aristocrats seem ready to grant them. To the present hour, I've been more than happy to ignore the confederates and the aristocrats both. My own Prime Minister is as keen as the gentry to resolve the American problem by supporting the Southern cause, but knows the price is yet too high to surrender our neutrality. I was resolved to wait out the envoys, the whispers, the grumbling of the Lords, and only pray Alfred and his president may bring a swift end to this war. However, I write to you now with an urgent warning regarding the American South and their appeals to the Continent—and to me.

I've had a letter from Alfred—or rather, a man with Alfred's hand, face, and name—who claims to represent the Confederacy. He calls himself Andrew, and he claims to know me. He wants ships, guns, and money with which to fund his navy that he might liberate the Atlantic from the Union Blockade. He wants me to provide him all of this, to forsake neutrality, oppose the United States, and ally with him. Implicit in this, of course, is his desire for me to abandon all relationship with Alfred himself. If he realizes that he and Alfred are one and the same, he was steadfast in ignoring the fact. Even thinking about it in such terms has shaken me more than I can say.

His handwriting is exactly like Alfred's. I compared their letters this morning. The whole matter has haunted me with unpleasant memories of my own civil war, and the bone-cracking turmoil of my younger years. I wrestled with my brothers more fiercely than I had in centuries before, and with myself, and with my kings and parliament, often to the point of death and back. Yet in the midst of madness, it never once crossed my mind to change my name. I was never so far gone that I did not know myself, yet I fear that is exactly what has happened in America.

I used to wonder if Alfred and Matthew had any more brothers or sisters. When he was very small, Alfred spoke to me of others; if he still remembers this, I cannot say. Do you remember if Matthew ever spoke of such things? I admit, upon hearing the news of the southern states' secession, I was curious if the world would not meet some new American phantom, some brother or sister who has heretofore eluded detection. There is, after all, so much we do not understand about that continent. Yet now I've met the answer to my curiosity, and he writes to me in the same hand I taught to hold a pen some two hundred years ago.

The American civil war is not like mine, nor like any that I can remember. When I was at war with myself, what had I to lose? A king, a government, a church. They were prizes of immeasurable value back then, but the scale of the present war in America turns my memories into pale ghosts. Should the Confederates prevail against the United States, Alfred will pay for it dearly. It is not only his government that will crumble, but his people, his lands, his treaties and trade. The very concept of the United States will buckle down the middle, broken in half by the scourge of human slavery. And should that happen, what will become of Alfred? Of his mind, his life? I can imagine the afflictions he faces now at war, but do not know how much worse they may become if the divisions of his people become permanent. My memories can take me far enough down such a path of consideration to know it will be more painful than anything he is prepared for. Oh, that Alfred would have another brother, more horrible, unpleasant, and callow than himself to write such adulatory letters to me now, then perhaps his mind would remain his own.

I fear my government will seek to give the Confederacy the support and recognition they seek, and for what? For King Cotton and the relief he might give to our hungry mills. Economy aside, it would be a horrible decision, and everyone who's head is not buried in his coffers (and his coffers, in turn, in American cotton) knows it. India and Egypt give us cotton while we wait. Impatience over the blockade will offer us nothing but trouble. To forsake the U.S. now is to trade in a famine of cotton for a famine of grain, and to engage in war against one of our most important trade allies. Who could have foreseen such a day, when the only thing I can do to preserve Alfred's life is to wear linen and feed corn to my goddamn sheep?

I must ask, Francis, in all naivety and hope, that you will resist whatever graces or promises this Andrew writes to you. I know I am in no place to ask this of you, but you and I are the primary targets of the Confederates' affections, and I fear if we do not unify in our resolve to remain neutral, Alfred will suffer the consequences personally.

You must think me the chief of all hypocrites, to be speaking of Alfred in such fond tones. I realize I have never been on the best of terms with Alfred and his Union, nor have I ever been on the best of terms with you, old friend, but please believe that it is my most earnest desire that the United States survive this abominable war and regain control of its southern territories. Alfred and I have, and I assume always will have considerable disagreements, but God as my witness I have never wished this hell upon him.

In earnestness,

Arthur

Historical Notes:

1. An interesting note about the telegram: at this point in history, most telegrams in England (and in France) would have been delivered to the recipient handwritten, not printed. Printing telegraph machines were fewer in number and took special training to operate. However, the all-caps script helps visually distinguish it from, say, a letter, so I've opted to use it here. Also, the practice of using "=" to open and close a message is actually a very American thing, and is more common in the early 20th century, but I've brought it back here to, again, enhance the 'telegram' aesthetic, which is hard to convey in text alone. Also, "telegram" as a phrase is actually an Americanism! It emerged in the 1830s and 40s, shortly after the telegraph was introduced, and made its way across the Atlantic in the 1850s, to replace "telegraph" as a term for the message delivered ("telegraph" still referred to the actual machines).

2. Commentary on the plight of Europe re: cotton and American trade has been spoken of enough already, so I will not wax poetic. Suffice to say that Britain relied heavily on two exports from America: cotton from the south and grain (corn) in the north. The value of corn and other grains from America (as well as the precarious position of Canada) was one of the larger reasons why the British never intervened in the war.

3. France suffered quite similar woes to England because of the Union's blockade, so Arthur here is writing to Francis with a healthy measure of camaraderie. Also of note, England and France would have been on fairly amicable terms at this point in history, and had not fought with each other since 1815. Incidentally, to this day, 1815 is the last time France and England were at war. So you're reading the very early nascent stages of what will eventually become a cordial alliance.

4. During the American Civil War, while American cotton remained an unreliable import, Egypt's cotton trade boomed, and production of cotton in India rose by about 70%. (Not mentioned here was the cotton production in Brazil, which during this decade rose by 400%!)

5. England lived through multiple civil wars in quick succession in the 17th century. Capital "t" The English Civil War is actually a series of three civil wars from 1642-1651. The one Arthur is referring to here is the Second English Civil War. The war was obviously a very political matter, but was also, crucially, a religious war fought between Catholics and Protestants. 1649 was a particularly harsh year for our dear Arthur. His government was overthrown, the monarchy abolished, his king executed by beheading, and a Council of State installed in place of a monarchy. It was a time of unbelievable instability. This particular time would have been an odd time for Francis, too, because the king that England killed was married to a French princess. When the English king was beheaded, the son of this union was for a time declared as the King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland.