April 21, 1865

Letter from Sir Arthur Kirkland in London to Matthew Williams in Toronto

My Dearest Matthew,

I hope this letter reaches you safely, for I am sending it to your home in Toronto without knowing whether you will still be there. I deeply apologise for the absence of my letters this spring. Your latest letter contained some serious matters which, knowing that you are such a kind and conscientious soul, I think may have taken some courage to compose to me. I want to immediately put your nerves at ease and insist that I have not been ignoring your letters, nor have I been brooding upon the matters you raised therein, as perhaps you also suspected. In fact, it was only this past week that I received your letter from February, an unconscionable postal delay which I must blame, or so I'm told, on the unseasonably icy seas that stand between our shores. I've become so accustomed to using telegraphy on this side of the ocean, such delays as seemed revolutionary mere decades ago now feel barbarically tedious. It is astonishing, truly, how quickly one becomes accustomed to speed. I should very much like the transatlantic communication cables re-established sooner rather than later. The Arctic is ever a seasonal nuisance.

Having explained myself, I must now express my great jubilation and, if indeed it is appropriate, congratulations to you and your entire continent for reaching the end of the Americans' horrible war. This very morning, when I received the news of General Lee's surrender, I was so relieved I nearly dropped my tea saucer—biscuit and all—on my lap in order to pick up the paper. With the American situation finally coming under control, and the unpleasantness in Denmark having reached a peace end without my having to get involved, I feel like I can breathe easily for the first time in years. Moreover, I am encouraged to hear of your progress in the case of Toronto. Surely now that all their brethren are in full retreat, these 'Confederate malcontents' will leave you in peace.

The backlog of winter mail is still coming in from America, and I have yet to hear a word of your brother. You are bound to know before I do how he fares in the aftermath of the surrender, and I pray that you tell me whatever you learn. I can only imagine his relief outshines mine ten to one, but am starved of information, and have had no real news of him since the war began. Waiting now for the dust to settle will be a test of patience. Parliament is, I'm sure, arguing already about when we may resume trade with the Southern territories of the United States (oh how good it feels to write of it thus), but I am more interested in how Alfred himself fares. If you see or hear of him, please tell me, though you mustn't let him know I've asked this of you. I am sure he remains stubbornly angry with me over the Alabama affair. It is very petty of him, and you ought to tell him so, if the chance presents itself.

As for the concerns raised by Lord Monck, many of his prognostications surrounding the American threat are rendered moot by a Union Victory—at least for now. That being the case, in the leisurely time afforded to us by a long-awaited peace in North America, I have much to discuss with you regarding this issue. However, I think it is a conversation best left until we meet again face to face. Lord Palmerston and Lord Monck alike are still undecided on the matter, and shall no doubt subject me to an unwelcome lecture if they find out I speculated on their plans in my letters to you.

To this end, I am pleased and, if I may say, determined to invite you to summer with me in Westmorland, where we may discuss this and a great many other things at our leisure. The countryside is heavenly in the summertime, and offers significant opportunities for outdoor pursuits, of which I know you are fond. After such a trying season west of the Atlantic, I'm sure your government would happily grant you leave. Think it over and do let me know as soon as you are able, so that I may make arrangements posthaste.

Your Ever-Devoted Brother,

Arthur Kirkland, GBE

Historical notes:

1. Winter travel by sea was always difficult in the North Atlantic, even in the age of steam ships! Even into the middle to late 1800s, crossing the northern Atlantic was made difficult by ice and unfavorable weather. I actually have no idea whether or not 1865 was a bad year for this in particular, it's just part of the story.

2. You heard me, Arthur was so happy to see Francis' telegram, he almost dropped his biscuit. Not his tea, though. Not even Francis is worth that.

3. "Unpleasantness in Denmark" refers to the Second Schleswig War, which took place from February to October in 1864. To make complicated history very short, there was several provinces of land at the base of the Jutland peninsula that were essentially in a joint custody agreement between the German Confederation and Denmark, but unfortunately that custody agreement was pinned to one particular man, who died childless and plunged the region into a succession crisis. The Danes had in 1863 incorporated the region into the Danish kingdom, which violated the London Protocol, which was an international agreement held by all of the major European powers of the time, including the United Kingdom. This sparked a war between Denmark on one side and Prussia and Austria on the other. So, while Arthur was not directly involved in this crisis, there was significant anxiety introduced into Europe in 1864 as continental borders continued to shift along tides of violence.

4. Westmorland is a historical name for the region now associated with England's Lake District, which is not only a stunning part of the Northern English countryside, but is a popular summer destination known for its National Park, excellent hiking, and wonderful views.

5. Oh look, Lord Monck is showing up again. I wonder what that could mean...