Our Man in Charleston: Britain's Secret Agent in the Civil War South will be published July 21. As it
happens, that is also the 154th anniversary of the Battle of Bull Run or, if
you will, First Manassas. While William Howard Russell, the great war
correspondent for the Times of London, was in Washington D.C.
examining preparations for the battle everyone knew would be coming soon in
northern Virginia, his friend Consul Bunch in Charleston began laying the
groundwork for secret talks with the Confederate government (which he loathed).
The
time had come for the mission to Richmond. Bunch made his way along Meeting
Street, then
down through the covered market, which was packed with people on a
Friday afternoon. His old friend William Henry Trescot had an office nearby on
East Bay Street. After the usual exchange of pleasantries and the offered
drink, Bunch asked, “How well do you know Jefferson Davis?”
William Henry Trescot |
“Why,
we have very cordial relations.”
So
Bunch went to the heart of the matter. He said that he and Monsieur de
Belligny, the acting French consul in Charleston who had replaced the Count de
Choiseul, had received dispatches that morning from their respective
governments that were “of the most delicate and important character.”
“We’re
instructed to make contact with the government in Richmond—but to do so through
an intermediary,” Bunch said. “I cannot explain more fully except in the
presence of my French colleague, but we have agreed to meet you, to give you
the instructions, and ask you to become the channel of communication between us
and Richmond.” According to Trescot’s notes on the conversation, Bunch said
this was a step of “great significance and importance.”
That
night, Trescot met with Bunch and de Belligny. Bunch read aloud the initial
dispatch from Lord Russell sent in May, an official letter Lyons had sent him
in early July, and a long private letter from Lyons, as well, outlining the
need to have the Confederate government sign on to the three key provisions in
the Declaration
of Paris.
“And
now you know all that I know myself,” he said.
Trescot
tested the consuls to see just how far they might go. “Are you prepared for the
Confederate government to make an official declaration based on your request,
thus giving it implied recognition in the eyes of the world?”
“No,
no,” said the consuls, almost in unison. “This has to be a spontaneous
declaration,” said Bunch.
“I
don’t see how you can ask that,” replied Trescot. He also failed to see how the
supposedly spontaneous commitment to the terms of an international treaty by an
as yet unrecognized state would be binding. But the consuls were adamant about
secrecy.
“If
this becomes public, the United States government will revoke our exequaturs
and will dismiss Lyons and Mercier from Washington,” Bunch warned. The consuls
might, as private citizens, say this was an important step toward recognition,
but even assuming the aim of the British and French governments was to reach
recognition, they wanted to do it so as not to provoke a break with Washington.
Lyons had been perfectly explicit about that. “This indirect way is the only
way,” said Bunch.
Trescot
didn’t like the sound of it. “All this secrecy that you say is essential to the
negotiations takes away from the Confederate government the very same incentive
you say you’re giving it.”
“We
can’t make any commitments in that respect,” said Bunch. “You will find the
consequences most agreeable and beneficial to the Confederate government,” de
Belligny assured Trescot.
Finally
Trescot agreed to accept the mission but with an explicit understanding that
when he met with Davis, he would be free to advise him to accept the proposal
or reject it, “as I think right.”
The
ball was now in play.
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