The Southern conspirators endeavored to secure the co-operation of the Indians, and delegations from several tribes were successively brought to Washington, where they "went the grand rounds" of the haunts of dissipation. They were dirty, disgusting-looking fellows, without one particle of the romance about them with which Cooper has invested the Indian character. Several tribes joined the Southern Confederacy, and fought desperately against the Union, which had for years before paid them liberal annuities.

[Facsimile] Th. Jefferson THOMAS JEFFERSON was born at Shadwell, Albemarle County, Va., April 2d, 1743; was a member of the Virginia Legislature, 1769; was Delegate to the Continental Congress, 1775; re-entered the Virginia Legislature, 1777; was member of Congress, 1783; was Secretary of State under Washington, 1789-1793; was Vice-President with Adams, 1797-1801; was President of the United States, 1801-1809; died July 4th, 1826.

CHAPTER IV. LINCOLN'S ELECTION INAUGURATES REBELLION.

Abraham Lincoln was elected President by the people on the 6th of November, 1860. Three days afterward, Horace Greeley wrote to the Tribune as follows: "If the Cotton States shall become satisfied that they can do better out of the Union than in it, we insist on letting them go in peace." Less than a week after the election Mr. Yancey said, in a public address, in Montgomery, his home, "I have good reason to believe that the action of any State will be peaceable—will not be resisted—under the present or any probable prospective condition of Federal affairs."

When Congress met, the Senate occupied its new chamber. The Southern conspirators in both Houses were outspoken and truculent, while the Abolitionists were defiant and exasperating. The message of President Buchanan was a non-committal document, showing that he was perplexed and overwhelmed by what he had not the courage to control. Encouraged by his declaration that the Executive possessed no constitutional power to use the army and navy for the preservation of the life of the Republic, the Southern Senators at Washington, who directed the movements of the Secessionists, were emboldened to direct them to withdraw from the Union and organize a Confederacy. Meanwhile some of them were to remain in Congress to defeat all hostile legislation.

Senator Seward, who assumed the leadership of the Republicans in Congress, had been correctly described by Henry Clay as "a man of no convictions." He had not that magnetic mind which could subordinate others, or the mental courage to take the helm in the hour of victory, but he relied upon the pecuniary operations of an unscrupulous lobby, which had followed him from Albany, and sought to fill its military chest with the spoils of the public printing and binding. After long announcement the Senate Chamber was crowded to hear what he would have to say on the political situation. Political friends and political foes, the most conservative and the most ultra, the Abolitionist from Vermont and the fire-eater from Mississippi, all looked upon that pale, slight figure in a gray frock coat—so calm, so self-possessed, so good-natured—as the man who had but to speak the word and the country would be saved.

The speech had been carefully composed and elaborated, as was everything which emanated from that source. It was in type before it was pronounced. The manuscript lay before the Speaker on the desk, but it was delivered almost entirely through the power of his wonderful memory. Senators gathered closely around him, and anxiously caught every syllable as it fell from his lips. The speaker seemed the only tranquil Senator there. It appeared incredible that any man could present an exterior of such coolness and quietude, and apparently smiling unconcern, amid anxiety and excitement so deep and intense.

Mr. Seward was not a graceful orator, but there was a certain impressive manner corresponding with the importance of what he had to say which arrested the hearer's regard, and when he was evolving some weighty maxim of political philosophy, and particularly during his vivid delineations of the grandeur and power of the Union, and of the calamities which might follow its dissolution, every eye was fixed upon him. There were several quite dramatic passages in the speech which roused the orator to more than usual animation. Such were the allusions to the gray-headed Clerk of the Senate, the contrast of the man-of-war entering a foreign port before and after the dissolution of the Union, and the episode, where, enumerating by name the great men who had added glory to the Republic, he said: "After all these have performed their majestic parts, let the curtain fall."

The speech was an ingenious piece of literary composition, which had been foreshadowed by a series of able editorials in the Albany Evening Journal, published as feelers of public opinion, and to prepare the way for this speech. It was the hand of Weed, writing, but the ideas were from the brain of Seward.

The Southern States soon began to secede, and their Senators and Representatives to leave the capital. Jefferson Davis made a long farewell speech, at the commencement of which he said: "Tears are now trickling down the stern face of man, and those who have bled for the flag of their country and are willing now to die for it, stand powerless." As he proceeded he referred to the possession of Fort Sumter, and said that he had heard it said, by a gallant gentleman, that the great objection to withdrawing the garrison was an unwillingness to lower the flag. "Can there," said he with dramatic effect, "be a point of pride against laying upon that sacred soil to-day the flag for which our fathers died? My pride, Senators, is different. My pride is that that flag shall not set between contending brothers; and that, when it shall no longer be the common flag of the country, it shall be folded up and laid away, like a vesture no longer used; that is shall be kept as a sacred memento of the past, to which each of us can make a pilgrimage and remember the glorious days in which we were born." In concluding his remarks, Mr. Davis invoked the Senators so to act that "the Angel of Peace might spread her wings, through it be over divided States; and the sons of the sires of the Revolution might still go on in the friendly intercourse with each other, ever renewing the memories of a common origin; the sections by the diversity of their products and habits, acting and reacting beneficially, the commerce of each might swell the prosperity of both, and the happiness of all be still interwoven together. If there cannot be peace," he said, "Mississippi's gallant sons will stand like a wall of fire around their State, and I go hence, not in hostility to you, but in love and allegiance to her, to take my place among her sons, be it for good or for evil."

Senator Clingman, of North Carolina, who was one of the last to leave, compared the seceders to representative of the "ten tribes of Israel!" Senator Hale, that genial hard-hitter, replied: "Ten tribes," said he, "did go out from the kingdom of Israel, but the ark of the living God remained with the tribe of Judah!" This was loudly applauded by the Republicans in the Senate galleries, and the presiding officer had to pound lustily with his mallet to secure order. Then Mr. Hale proceeded:

"I think the galleries ought to be excused for applauding a reference made to the Scriptures. I say, there is where the ark of the covenant remained. What became of the ten tribes? They have gone, God only knows where, and nobody else. It is a matter of speculation, what became of them—whether they constitute the Pottawatomies or some other tribe of savages. But the suggestion of the Senator from North Carolina is full of meaning. There were ten tribes went out, and remember, they went out wandering. They left the ark and the empire behind them. They went, as I said before, God only knows where. But, sir, I do hope and pray that this comparison, so eloquent and instructive, suggested by the honorable Senator, may not be illustrated in the fate of these other tribes that are going out from the household of Israel."

Late in January, 1861, the Legislature of Virginia proposed the appointment of commissioners, by each State, to meet at Washington on the 4th day of February, and devise, if practicable, a plan for settling the pending difficulties between the slave-holding and non-slave-holding States. This was at first met with a howl of opposition from the Northern Abolitionists, who feared that it might lead to another compromise, but they soon changed front, and urged the Governors of their respective States to send pronounced anti-slavery delegations. Twenty-one States were represented by gentlemen who had nearly all filled high political stations, and who possessed ripe experience, wisdom, dignity, and weight of character. John Tyler was elected president, and the "Peace Congress," as the organization styled itself, sat with great formality in the old Presbyterian Church, which had been converted into a hall attached to Willard's Hotel. A long series of resolutions was discussed and adopted, but they were not of as much value as the paper on which they were written.

Meanwhile, Captain Stone, on the staff of General Scott, had organized the militia of the District of Columbia, and as the birthday of Washington approached, they made arrangements for a parade, with two batteries of light artillery stationed at the Arsenal. Against this parade Mr. Tyler protested, and wrote a letter to the President, sharply rebuking him for having permitted the parade. Mr. Buchanan excused himself, saying that he "found it impossible to prevent two or three companies of regulars from joining in the procession with the volunteers without giving offense to the tens of thousands of people who had assembled to witness the parade." Mr. Seward adroitly availed himself of the reverence for the "old flag" which had been awakened by Daniel Webster in his speeches in defense of the Union, and, in accordance with his suggestion, the "stars and stripes" were freely displayed, evoking that love of country which is so vital a principle in the American heart.

After the withdrawal of the Southern members of the Cabinet had compelled Mr. Buchanan to fill their places, General John A. Dix, the new Secretary of the Treasury, sent Mr. W. Hemphill Jones, a amiable old clerk, who wore a sandy wig, to New Orleans, with instructions to secure, if possible, the bullion in the United States Mint there. Soon after Mr. Jones had arrived at New Orleans, he informed the Secretary that Captain Brushwood, who commanded the United States revenue cutter there, had refused to obey his orders as a special agent of the Department, and mediated going over to the Secessionists. Whereupon the Secretary telegraphed to Jones to take possession of the revenue cutter, adding, "If any one attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot him on the spot." This message never reached New Orleans, but it was made public, and received by the Northern people as an assurance that the Union would be defended. To those who knew the estimable old gentleman to whom the message was sent, the idea of his shooting down Captain Brushwood, or any one else, was simply ridiculous. Indeed, he thanked his stars that he was able to get back to Washington unharmed.

The electoral votes for President and Vice-President were counted in the hall of the House on Wednesday, the 13th of February, 1861. Vice-President Breckinridge presided over the two Houses "in Congress assembled," and announced the result.

As the year advanced the alienation of the sections increased, and the spirit of fraternity was so far extinguished as to close the minds and hearts of the people at the North and at the South to the admission of any adjustment which would be honorable and satisfactory to all conservative citizens. The Government of the Confederate States was formally inaugurated at Montgomery, Alabama, with Jefferson Davis as its President, and Alexander H. Stephens as its Vice-President. Throughout the old South the new flag was flung to the breeze, and the old flag was as generally rejected. The State Sovereignty, about which so much had been said, thenceforth stood in abeyance to the supreme authority of the new Government, which was clothed with all the powers of peace and war and of civil administration. Hostilities had virtually been declared, for, as the States seceded, the Confederates had seized the arsenals, the navy yards, the mints, the custom-houses, and the post-offices, while many officials—civil, military, and naval—had unceremoniously left the service of the United States to enter that of the Confederate States.

[Facsimile] John PHale JOHN PARKER HALE was born at Rochester, New Hampshire, March 31st, 1806; was a Representative from New Hampshire 1843-1845; was United States Senator, 1847-1853, and again, 1855-1865; was Minister to Spain, 1865-1869; and died at Dover, New Hampshire, November 18th, 1873.

CHAPTER V. MR. LINCOLN AT THE HELM.

The unexpected arrival of Mr. Lincoln at Willard's Hotel early on the morning of Saturday, February 23d, 1861, created quite a sensation when it became known in Washington. It was not true, as asserted, that he came in disguise, although he wore a traveling cap and shawl which had been loaned him, and which very materially changed his appearance.

Mr. Lincoln felt confident that an attempt was to have been made to assassinate him as he passed through Baltimore. Among other statements which confirmed him in this opinion was one by Mr. Chittenden, of Vermont, afterward Register of the Treasury. Mr. Chittenden was a delegate from the State of Vermont to the Peace Congress, then in session, one of the leading Southern members of which expressed great surprise on learning of Mr. Lincoln's arrival, and said, "How in the mischief did he get through Baltimore?" Senator Sumner was also one those who believed that the President- elect was in danger of assassination, and he wrote him after his arrival, cautioning him about going out at night. "Sumner," said Mr. Lincoln, "declined to stand up with me, back to back, to see which was the taller man, and made a fine speech about this being the time for uniting our fronts against the enemy and not our backs. But I guess he was afraid to measure, though he is a good piece of a man. I have never had much to do with Bishops where I live, but, do you know, Sumner is my idea of a Bishop."

Mr. Lincoln, after eating his breakfast, made a formal call on President Buchanan at the White House, accompanied by Mr. Seward. He then received the members of the Peace Congress, who had formed in procession in the hall where they met, and moved to the reception parlor of the hotel. Ex-President Tyler and Governor Chase led the van. The latter did the honors, first introducing Mr. Tyler. Mr. Lincoln received him with all the respect due to his position. The several delegates were then presented by Governor Chase in the usual manner. The greatest curiosity was manifested to witness this, Mr. Lincoln's first reception in Washington. The most noticeable thing that occurred was the manifestation by Mr. Lincoln of a most wonderful memory. It will be remembered that the Convention was composed of many men, who, although distinguished in their time, had not of late been very much known. Each member was introduced by his surname, but in nine cases out of ten, Mr. Lincoln would promptly recall their entire name, no matter how many initials it contained. In several instances he recited the historical reminiscences of families. When the tall General Doniphan, of Missouri, was introduced, Mr. Lincoln had to look up to catch Doniphan's eye. He immediately inquired:

"Is this Doniphan, who made that splendid march across the plains and swept the swift Comanches before him?"

"I commanded the expedition across the plains," modestly replied the General.

"Then you have come up to the standard of my expectation," rejoined Mr. Lincoln.

When Mr. Rives, of Virginia, was introduced, Mr. Lincoln said: "I always had an idea that you were a much taller man." He received James B. Clay, son of the Kentucky statesman, with marked attention, saying to him: "I was a friend of your father." The interchange of greetings with Mr. Barringer, of North Carolina, who was his colleague in Congress, was very cordial. When Reverdy Johnson was presented, he expressed great rejoicing, remarking to him:

"I had to bid you good-bye just at the time when our intimacy had ripened to a point for me to tell you my stories."

The Southern Commissioners freely expressed their gratification at his affability and easy manner, and all joined in expressing agreeable disappointment at his good looks in contrast to his pictures. Nothing was said to any one in regard to the condition of the country or the national troubles. After the reception of the Peace Congress was concluded, a large number of citizens were presented.

A large number of ladies then passed in review, each being introduced by the gentleman who accompanied her, and Mr. Lincoln underwent the new ordeal with much good humor. All that day the hotel was crowded with members of Congress and others, anxious to see the President-elect, of whom they had heard so much, and among them were several newspaper corespondents, who had known him while he was a member of the House of Representatives. One of the correspondents who talked with him about his forthcoming message received, confidentially, the following account of it:

Mr. Lincoln had written his message at his Springfield home, and had had it put in type by his friend, the local printer. A number of sentences had been re-constructed several times before they were entirely satisfactory, and then four copies had been printed on foolscap paper. These copies had been locked up in what Mr. Lincoln called a "grip-sack," and intrusted to his oldest son, Robert. "When we reached Harrisburg," said Mr. Lincoln, "and had washed up, I asked Bob where the message was, and was taken aback by his confession that in the excitement caused by the enthusiastic reception he believed he had let a waiter take the grip-sack. My heart went up into my mouth, and I started down-stairs, where I was told that if a waiter had taken the article I should probably find it in the baggage-room. Hastening to that apartment, I saw an immense pile of grip-sacks and other baggage and thought that I had discovered mine. The key fitted it, but on opening there was nothing inside but a few paper collars and a flask of whisky. Tumbling the baggage right and left, in a few moments I espied my lost treasure, and in it the all-important document, all right; and now I will show it to you—on your honor, mind!" The inaugural was printed in a clear-sized type, and wherever Mr. Lincoln had thought that a paragraph would make an impression upon his audience, he had preceded it with a typographical fist—".

One copy of this printed draft of the inaugural message was given to Mr. Seward, and another to the venerable Franics P. Blair, with the request that they would read and criticise. A few unimportant changes were made, and Mr. Nicolay, who was to be the President's private secretary, made the corrected copy in a fair hand, which Mr. Lincoln was to read. Mr. Nicolay corrected another copy, which was furnished to the press for publication and is now in my possession.

Mr. Seward had, from the moment that his offered services as Secretary of State were accepted, acted as chief of the incoming Administration, and undertook to have a voice in the appointment of his associates. Mr. Lincoln, however, was determined to make his own selections. The great contest was for the Treasury Department, the Pennsylvania Republicans urging the appointment of Simon Cameron, while Eastern and New York Republicans preferred Salmon P. Chase. Ohio was not united in the support of Mr. Chase, but he finally received the appointment, Mr. Cameron going into the War Department, and Mr. Gideon Welles, of Connecticut, receiving the Navy Department on the recommendation of Vice-President Hannibal Hamlin, who was requested to select some one for that position. The Blair interest was recognized by the appointment of Montgomery Blair as Postmaster-General, while Edward Bates, of Missouri, whose name had been mentioned as the Presidential candidate in opposition to Mr. Lincoln, was made Attorney-General. The Interior Department was given to Caleb W. Smith, of Indiana.

The preparations for the inauguration of Mr. Lincoln were of an unusual character. Many believed that an attempt would be made on that day by the Secessionists to obtain possession of the Government, and great precautions against this were taken, The ostensible director was General Scott, who had his head-quarters at a restaurant near the War Department, and who rode about the city in a low coupe drawn by a powerful horse. But the real director of the military operations was Colonel Stone, of the regular army, who had been organizing the military of the District, and who had a very respectable force at his command. He had a battalion of the United States Engineer Corps directly in the rear of the President's carriage, and sharp-shooters belonging to a German company were posted on buildings all along the route, with orders to keep a vigilant watch as the President's carriage approached, and to fire at any one who might aim a weapon at the President. There was also a large force of detectives stationed along the route and at the Capitol.

The procession was a very creditable one, the United States troops and the District Militia making a fine show, with the Albany Burgess Corps, and a few organizations from a distance. Mr. Lincoln rode with President Buchanan, and, on arriving at the Capitol, entered the Senate Chamber leaning on the old gentleman's arm. After Mr. Hamlin had taken his oath of office as Vice-President, and several new Senators had been sworn in, a procession was formed, as usual, which repaired to the platform erected over the steps of the eastern portico of the Capitol. When Mr. Lincoln came out he was easily distinguished as his tall, gaunt figure rose above those around him.

His personal friend, Senator Baker, of Oregon, introduced him to the assemblage, and as he bowed acknowledgments of the somewhat faint cheers which greeted him the usual genial smile lit up his angular countenance. He was evidently somewhat perplexed, just then, to know what to do with his new silk hat and a large gold- headed cane. The cane he put under the table, but the hat appeared to be too good to place on the rough boards. Senator Douglas saw the embarrassment of his old friend, and, rising, took the shining hat from its bothered owner and held it during the delivery of the inaugural address. Mr. Lincoln was listened to with great eagerness. He evidently desired to convince the multitude before him rather than to bewilder or dazzle them. It was evident that he honestly believed every word that he spoke, especially the concluding paragraphs, one of which I copy from the original print:

""I am loth to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may be strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. "The mystic chords of memory which stretch from every battle-field and patriot grave to every loved heart and hearthstone, all over our broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched, as they surely will be, by the better angels of our nature."

Having closed his address, Mr. Lincoln was escorted to the White House, where he received the public for an hour, after which the doors were closed. The new Administration was thus successfully launched, and the Secretaries went to work to see what remained in the National coffers, arsenals, navy yards, and armories. The most important public measures were decided by Mr. Lincoln and one or two of his Cabinet officers without consultation with the others. Indeed, as hostilities approached, each member of the Cabinet was too busily engaged with his own official duties to discuss those of his colleagues, and Mr. Seward never wanted any criticism on his management of diplomatic affairs, any more than Mr. Cameron or Mr. Welles tolerated interference with the conduct of the war.

[Facsimile] Your friend as ever A. Lincoln ABRAHAM LINCOLN was born in Hardin County, Kentucky, February 12th, 1809; was in early life a farmer, a boatman, and a land surveyor, after which he studied law and practiced at Springfield, Illinois; was a Representative from Illinois to Congress, 1847-1849; was an unsuccessful candidate for United States Senator, in opposition to Stephen A. Douglas, in 1858; was elected President of the United States in 1860 as a Republican, and was inaugurated March 4th,1861; issued the first call for troops April 15th, 1861, and the Proclamation of Emancipation January 1st, 1863; was re-elected President in 1864, and was again inaugurated March 4th, 1865; was assassinated April 14th, and died April 15th, 1865; he was buried at Springfield, Illinois.

CHAPTER VI. THE STORM BURSTS.

Washington City presented a strange spectacle during the first month after the inauguration of Mr. Lincoln. Many of the Southern sojourners had gone to their respective States, while others, some of them holding important civil, military, and naval positions, remained, truculent and defiant, to place every obstacle in the way of coercion by the Federal Government. The North sent an army of office-seekers to the metropolis, and Mr. Lincoln was forced to listen to the demands of men who had made political speeches, or who had commanded companies of "Wide-Awakes," and who now demanded lucrative offices in return.

Among other officers of the army who resigned their commissions was Colonel Robert E. Lee, who was sent for by General Scott, and asked point-blank whether he intended to resign with those officers who proposed to take part with their respective states, or to remain in the service of the Union. Colonel Lee made no reply, whereupon "Old Chapultepec" came directly to the point, saying, "I suppose you will go with the rest. If your purpose is to resign, it is proper you should do so at once. Your present attitude is an equivocal one." "General," Colonel Lee then answered, "the property belonging to my children, all that they possess, lies in Virginia. They will be ruined if they do not go with their State. I cannot raise my hand against my children." General Scott then signified that he had nothing further to say. Colonel Lee, with a respectful bow, withdrew, and the next morning tendered his resignation, which was accepted five days afterward. Between the interview and the acceptance of Colonel Lee's resignation, General Shiras was sitting in the room of Adjutant-General Lorenzo Thomas, when Colonel Lee came in and walked up to the side of the table opposite to that at which General Thomas was sitting, saying: "General Thomas, I am told you said I was a traitor." General Thomas arose, and looking him in the eye, replied, "I have said so; do you wish to know on what authority?" "Yes," said Colonel Lee. "Well, on the authority of General Scott." Colonel Lee muttered, "There must be some mistake," turned on his heel, and left the room.

The long expected crisis came at last. Seven thousand armed Confederates attacked the seventy Union soldiers who garrisoned Fort Sumter, and forced them to haul down the stars and stripes on the 11th of April, 1861. Four days afterward President Lincoln issued his proclamation, calling for seventy-five thousand militiamen, "to maintain the honor, the integrity, and the existence of our National Government, and to redress wrongs already long enough endured." This proclamation was flashed over the wires throughout the Northern States, like the fiery cross of Rhoderick Dhu, which summoned his clansmen to their rendezvous, and it was everywhere received with the beating of drums and the ringing notes of the bugle, calling the defenders of the capital to their colors. Every city and hamlet had its flag-raising, while its enthusiasm was unbounded. Here and there a newspaper ventured to apologize for the South, but the editor would soon be forced by a mob to display the stars and stripes, amid the cheers and the shouts of those assembled.

The North proved itself ready for the emergency. The arguments of Daniel Webster against the right of secession, which, when delivered by him, were regarded by many as mere topics for the display of political eloquence, had fixed the opinion of the North, and there was a general uprising for the defense of the capital and the old flag. Even the Abolitionists, who had denounced the Union, the Constitution, the national ensign, and its martial defenders, seriously entered into the military movements, as they saw in the exercise of the war power the long desired panacea for the faults of slavery. Those who had jeered at the Southern threats of disunion as empty bluster, and at the Northern conservatives as cowardly doughfaces, became zealous Union men, although it must be confessed that very few of them took their lives in their hands and actually went to the front. The raising of troops went forward with a bound, and the wildest excitement and enthusiasm attended the departure of regiments for the seat of war. The seriousness of the emergency was not overlooked, but high above that consideration rose the tide of patriotic feeling, and swept all obstacles before it.

The first troops to arrive at the National Capital were four companies of unarmed and ununiformed Pennsylvanians, who came from the mining districts, expecting to find uniforms, arms, and equipments on their arrival at Washington. Stones were thrown at them as they marched through Baltimore to take the cars for Washington, where they were received at the station by Captain McDowell, of the Adjutant-General's department, who escorted them to the Capitol, where arrangements had been made for quartering them temporarily in the hall of the House of Representatives. The sun was just setting over the Virginia hills as the little column ascended the broad steps of the eastern portico and entered the rotunda, through which they marched. With one of the companies was the customary colored attendant, whose duty it was on parade to carry the target or a pail of ice-water. He had been struck on the head in Baltimore, and had received a scalp wound, over which he had placed his handkerchief, and then drawn his cap down tight over it. When Nick Biddle (for that was his name), entered the rotunda, he appeared to think he was safe, and took off his cap, with the handkerchief saturated with blood, which dripped from it and marked his path into the hall of the House of Representatives. It was the first blood of the war.

The next day came the old Massachusetts Sixth, which had been shot at and stoned as it passed through Baltimore, and which returned the fire with fatal effect. The Sixth was quartered in the Senate wing of the Capitol. Colonel Jones occupied the Vice-President's chair in the Senate Chamber, his colors hanging over his head from the reporters' gallery. At the clerk's desk before him, Adjutant Farr and Paymaster Plaisted were busy with their evening reports, while Major Watson, with Quartermaster Munroe were seeing that the companies were distributed in the various corridors and obtaining their rations. After a four-and-twenty hours' fast the men had each one ration of bacon, bread, and coffee, which they had to prepare at the furnace fires in the basements. The moment hunger was appeased the cushioned seats in the galleries were occupied by those fortunate enough to obtain such luxurious sleeping accommodations, while others "bunked" on the tile floors, with their knapsacks for pillows, and wrapped in their blankets. Stationery was provided from the committee-rooms, and every Senator's desk was occupied by a "bould sojer boy," inditing an epistle to his friends.

That night the censorship of the press was exercised for the first time at the telegraph office. Colonel Stone had seized the steamers which ran between Washington and Aquia Creek, and another steamer, the St. Nicholas, which had been loaded with flour and other stores, ostensibly for Norfolk, but which he believed would have gone no further down the river than Alexandria, where they would have been turned over to the Confederate quartermaster's department. Colonel Stone, believing that this seizure should be kept quiet, obtained from Secretary Cameron an order to seize the telegraph and to prevent the transmission of any messages which were not of a strictly private nature. When the correspondents wished to telegraph the lists of the dead and wounded of the Massachusetts Sixth they found a squad of the National Rifles in possession of the office, with orders to permit the transmission of no messages. Hastening to head-quarters, they found Colonel Stone, but he told them that he had no discretion in the matter.

The correspondents then drove to the house of Secretary Seward. The Secretary of State received them very cordially, and would neither admit nor deny that he had advised the censorship of the press. He said, however, in his semi-jocular way, "The affair at Baltimore to-day was only a local outbreak, for which the regimental officers, who had ridden through the city in a car, leaving some of the companies to follow on foot without a commander, were responsible. To send your accounts of the killed and wounded," said Mr. Seward, "would only influence public sentiment, and be an obstacle in the path of reconciliation." Then, having offered his visitors refreshments, which were declined, he bowed them out. They returned to the telegraph office, where their wrath was mollified by learning that the wires had all been cut in Baltimore. It was nearly a week before telegraphic communication was re- established between Washington and the loyal North, but thenceforth, until the close of the war, a censorship of press dispatches was kept up, at once exasperating and of little real use.

Meanwhile a general uprising was going on. Young Ellsworth, who had accompanied Mr. Lincoln from Springfield, in the hope of being placed at the head of a bureau of militia in the War Department, had gone to New York and raised, in an incredibly small space of time, a regiment composed almost exclusively of the members of the Volunteer Fire Department, which stimulated the organization of other commands. Rhode Island sent a regiment, under the command of Colonel Burnside, composed of skilled mechanics, gentlemen possessing independent fortunes, and active business men, all wearing plain service uniforms.

Communication with Washington was re-opened by General Butler, who, finding that the bridges between the Susquehanna River and the city of Baltimore had been burned, went on the steam ferry-boat from Havre de Grace around to Annapolis at the head of the Massachusetts Eighth. On their arrival at Annapolis it was found that the sympathizers with secession had partially destroyed the railroad leading to Washington, and had taken away every locomotive with the exception of one, which they had dismantled. It so happened that a young mechanic, who had aided in building this very engine, was in the ranks of the Massachusetts Eighth, and he soon had it in running order, while the regiment, advancing on the railroad, fished up from the ditches on either side the rails which had been thrown there, and restored them to their places. They thus rebuilt the road and provided it with an engine, so that when the New York Seventh arrived it was a comparative easy matter for it to proceed to the national metropolis.

Meanwhile, Washington City had been for several days without hearing from the loyal North. At night the camp-fires of the Confederates, who were assembling in force, could be seen on the southern bank of the Potomac, and it was not uncommon to meet on Pennsylvania Avenue a defiant Southerner openly wearing a large Virginia or South Carolina secession badge. The exodus of clerks from the department continued, and they would not say good-bye, but au revoir, as they confidently expected that they would be back again triumphant within a month. An eloquent clergyman, who was among those who went to Richmond, left behind him, in the cellar of his house, a favorite cat, with what he judged would be a three weeks' supply of water and provisions, so confident was he that President Davis would, within that time, occupy the White House.

One of the largest, the best equipped, and the best drilled of the volunteer regiments that came pouring into Washington when the communication was re-opened was the New York Fire Zouaves, commanded by Colonel Ellsworth. A hardy set of fellows, trained to fight fire, they professed great anxiety to meet the Confederates in hostile array, and they were very proud of their boyish commander. President Lincoln took a great interest in Colonel Ellsworth, and when Virginia formally seceded, he obtained from Secretary Cameron an order for the New York Fire Zouaves and the First Michigan Infantry to occupy Alexandria. They went on the ferry-boats, very early in the morning on Friday, May 24th, escorted by the war steamer Pawnee, and occupied the old borough without opposition.

No sooner were the troops on shore, than Colonel Ellsworth, taking half a dozen of his men, went to the Marshall House, over the roof of which floated a large Confederate flag, which had been visible with a glass from the window of Mr. Lincoln's private office. Entering the public room of the hotel, he inquired of a man there whether he was the proprietor, and being answered in the negative, he took one private with him, and ran up-stairs. Going out on the roof, Ellsworth secured the flag, and as he was descending, James William Jackson, the proprietor of the hotel, came from his room, armed with a double-barreled shot-gun. "I have the first prize," said Ellsworth, to which Jackson responded, "And I the second," at the same time firing at him with fatal effect. Before he could fire the second barrel, Private Brownell shot him dead, and as he fell, pinned him to the floor with the sword-bayonet on his rifle. Colonel Ellsworth's remains were taken to Washington, where President Lincoln visited them, exclaiming, as he gazed on the lifeless features: "My boy! my boy! was it necessary this sacrifice should be made!"

[Facsimile] E. E. Ellsworth EPHRAIM ELMER ELLSWORTH, born at Mechanicsville, Saratoga County, New York, in 1837; removed to Chicago before he was of age, and studied law; in 1859, organized his Zouave corps, noted for the excellence of its discipline, and gave exhibition drills in the chief Eastern cities. On the opening of hostilities, raised a regiment, known as the New York Fire Zouaves; was sent to Alexandria on Friday morning, May 24th, 1861, when he was killed in the Marshall House. He was buried in the cemetery of his native place.

CHAPTER VII. "ON TO RICHMOND."

Mr. Lincoln having called a special session of Congress, the two Houses met on the 4th of July, 1861. There were many vacant seats, but some of those who sympathized with the South lingered that they might throw obstacles before any attempt at coercion. Meanwhile the Abolitionists, who feared a compromise and a reconciliation, echoed the shout "On to Richmond!" The "Grand Army of the Union," hastily organized into brigades and divisions, was placed under the command of General Irwin McDowell, a gallant soldier, entirely destitute in the experience of handling large bodies of men. The troops thus brigaded had never even been manoeuvred together, nor had their commander any personal knowledge of many of the officers or men. But the politicians at the Capitol insisted on an immediate advance. They saw with admiration the gallant appearance of the well-equipped regiments that were to compose the advancing column, and they believed, or professed to believe, that it could easily march "On to Richmond!"

On Sunday, July 21st, 1861, the "Grand Army of the Union" began its forward march. The sun rose in a cloudless sky, and the advancing columns of Union soldiers, with glistening bayonets and gay flags, moved with measured tread through the primeval forests of the Old Dominion, apparently as resistless as the sweep of destiny. Meanwhile there drove out from Washington to General McDowell's headquarters a crowd of Congressmen, correspondents, contractors, and camp-followers, who had come in a variety of vehicles to witness the fight, as they would have gone to see a horse-race or to witness a Fourth of July procession. The Congressmen did not hesitate to intrude themselves upon General McDowell, and to offer him their advice. Others, unpacking baskets of provisions, enjoyed their lunches after the cannonading had commenced.

There was brave fighting on both sides in the Bull Run Valley, which became like a boiling crater, from which arose dense clouds of dust and smoke. At one time General Bee, well-nigh overwhelmed, greeted General Thomas J. Jackson with the exclamation, "General, they are beating us back!" To which the latter replied promptly, "Sir, we will give them the bayonet." General Bee immediately rallied his over-tasked troops, saying "There is Jackson with his Virginians, standing like a stone wall. Let us determine to die here, and we will conquer." From that day General Jackson was known by the soldiers on both sides as "Stonewall" Jackson.

The arrival of the force commanded by General Joe Johnston, which General Patterson had failed to hold in check, and the presence of President Jefferson Davis, inspired the Confederate troops with superhuman courage, while the Union regiments, badly officered, followed the example of the New York Zouaves, and fled in wild disorder. The panic became general, and disorder soon degenerated into a disgraceful retreat. The Confederates, however, found themselves in no condition to follow up the victory which they had gained, and to press on to Washington.

The rout of Bull Run, while it was a severe rebuke to the politicians who had forced it, secured the support of every loyal man in the Northern States for the Union cause, whatever his previous political convictions might have been. Practical issues were presented, and every man able to bear arms or to contribute money was animated by the sentiment uttered by Stephen A. Douglas in his last public speech, when he said: "The conspiracy is now known; armies have been raised; war is levied to accomplish it. There are only two sides to the question: every man must be for the United States or against it. There can be no neutrals in this war—only Republicans or traitors."

The week after the Battle of Bull Run, Senator Breckinridge, who had retained his seat, made an appeal for the cessation of hostilities, speaking eloquently of the horrors of war, the cost of maintaining armies, the dangers of military despotism, and the impossibility of ever subjugating the South. He pleaded for peace with the rebels, and from the event of the great battle near Manassas he drew an augury of defeat to the cause of the Government on future battlefields.

Senator Baker was on the floor of the Senate for the first time in many days, having just come to Washington with his California Regiment, whom he had been busily engaged in organizing in Philadelphia and elsewhere, and at whose head he fell. The white-haired but vigorous and active Senator listened attentively to the sentiments and predictions of Breckinridge, pacing the Senate floor back and forth with his eyes fastened on him, and now and then chafing with visible impatience to reply. At length Breckinridge ceased, and Baker took the floor, and proceeded, with a skillful and unsparing hand, to dissect the sophistry and falsehood of the treason that had just been uttered.

"Sir," said he in conclusion, "it is not a question of men or of money. All the money, all the men, are, in our judgment, well bestowed in such a cause. Knowing their value well, we give them with the more pride and the more joy. But how could we retreat? How could we make peace? Upon what terms? Where is to be your boundary line? Where the end of the principles we shall have to give up? What will become of public liberties? What of past glories? What of future hopes? Shall we sink into the insignificance of the grave—a degraded, defeated, emasculated people, frightened by the results of one battle, and scared at the vision raised by the imagination of the Senator from Kentucky upon the floor? No, sir! a thousand times, no, sir! We will rally the people—the loyal people of the whole country. They will pour forth their treasure, their money, their men, without stint, without measure. Shall one battle determine the fate of empire, or a dozen—the loss of one thousand men or twenty thousand, or one hundred million or five hundred millions of dollars? In a year's peace—in ten years, at most, of peaceful progress—we can restore them all. There will be some graves reeking with blood, watered by the tears of affection. There will be some privation; there will be some loss of luxury; there will be somewhat more need for labor to procure the necessaries of life. When that is said, all is said. If we have the country, the whole country, the Union, the Constitution—free government— with these there will return all the blessings of well-ordered civilization; the path of the country will be a career of greatness and of glory, such as, in the olden time, our fathers saw in the dim visions of years yet to come, and such as would have been ours now, to-day, if it had not been for the treason for which the Senator too often seeks to apologize." The orator took his seat after this lofty and impassioned appeal, little dreaming that he would be one of the first to fulfill his own prophecy.

Preparations for the war were now made in good earnest. Regiments were recruited for three years, and, on their arrival at Washington, were carefully inspected and organized into brigades and divisions, and officered by men of ability and military experience. Other forces were organized at the West, and the Administration of President Lincoln displayed remarkable energy in equipping the armies which were to act in different sections of the country, and in raising money for their support.

General George B. McClellan, when he assumed command of the Army of the Potomac, was the beau ideal of a dragoon leader. His legs, like those of General Taylor, were short in proportion to his body, so that he appeared to be small in stature when on foot, but, when mounted on his favorite charger, he looked as tall, if not taller, than those around him. He possessed a good head, firmly planted on a sturdy neck, upon ample shoulders. He wore his hair cut short and his cheeks and massive jaw-bones shaven clean, while a well- shapen moustache gave dignity to his features. His complexion was ruddy, his eyes blue, and the lines of his mouth indicated good- humor and firmness in about equal proportions. His dress was plain, with the least possible insignia of rank, and his headquarters at the residence of Commodore Wilkes, long occupied by Mrs. Madison, was always thronged with visitors. His confidential aides were regular officers trained in many a hard campaign, and he had at his side, in his father-in-law, Colonel R. B. Marcy, of the army, an experienced military counselor.

When Lieutenant-General Scott, after having resigned his command, was about to leave Washington for West Point, his young successor called upon him to say good-bye, and they had a long conference. At its conclusion the old hero of three wars, said: "General, do not allow yourself to be entangled by men who do not comprehend this question. Carry out your own ideas, act upon your own judgment, and you will conquer, and the Government will be vindicated. God bless you!" General McClellan, who was then eulogized as a second Napoleon, soon found himself "embarrassed" by men who feared that he might become President if he conquered peace. He was also impressed with this Presidential idea by pretended friends who had fastened themselves upon him, and "between two stools he fell to the ground."

The surrender of Mason and Slidell to the English Government, after their capture by one of our war vessels, was a sad sacrifice, and many at Washington were of the opinion that they should have been retained at every hazard. Some suggested an international arbitration, but President Lincoln, fortified by the advice of Charles Sumner and Caleb Cushing, saw plainly that the submission of the case to arbitration would be equivalent to a surrender. Secretary Seward, in his communication to Lord Lyons, the British Minister, which the President revised before it was sent, said, in the most emphatic terms, that international law, particularly the American intent of it, as recorded in all our policy that has become historic, was against us. He said: "This Government could not deny the justice of the claim presented. We are asked to do by the British nation just what we have always insisted of nations before to do to us."

Mr. Sumner came gallantly to Mr. Seward's rescue, and made a long speech in the Senate before crowded galleries, showing that the seizure of Mason and Slidell on board of a neutral ship could not be justified according to our best American precedents. "Mr. President," said he, in his deep-toned voice, "let the rebels go. Two wicked men, ungrateful to their country, are let loose with the brand of Cain upon their foreheads. Prison doors are opened, but principles are established which will help to free other men, and to open the gates of the sea. Amidst all present excitement," said Mr. Sumner, in conclusion, "amidst all present trials, it only remains for us to uphold the constant policy of the Republic, and stand fast on the ancient ways."

Meanwhile General McClellan was organizing the large forces sent for the defense of Washington, and several distinguished foreigners, who in turn visited the metropolis, expressed great surprise and admiration at the wonderful rapidity with which so many men and so much materiel had been collected, affording striking evidence of the martial capabilities of the American people.

The unfortunate engagement at Ball's Bluff, where Colonel Baker and many brave Union officers and soldiers were killed, while others were sent as prisoners to Richmond, had rather a dispiriting effect on the President. Mr. Lincoln and Colonel Baker had attended the same school, joined in the same boyish sports, and when they had grown to manhood their intimacy had ripened into ardent friendship. Mr. Lincoln had watched with admiration the success of his friend Baker at the Illinois bar, as a Whig Representative in Congress, as an officer in the Mexican War, and then—transplanted to the Pacific coast—as a deliverer of a panegyric over the body of the murdered Broderick, that was one of the greatest exhibitions of fervid eloquence ever seen or heard on this continent.

Coming to Washington as United States Senator from Oregon, Colonel Baker gave a powerful support to the Union cause and to the Lincoln Administration. He was one of the first Northern politicians to take the field, and he was promised by President Lincoln a high military command if he could, by winning a victory, demonstrate his ability as a general. He entered upon his new military career with his characteristic energy, but Mr. Lincoln, instead of promoting him, was soon called upon to mourn his untimely death.

[Facsimile] H Hamlin HANNIBAL HAMLIN was born at Paris, Maine, August 27th, 1809; was a Representative from Maine, 1843-1847; was United States Senator, 1848-1857, when he resigned to act as Governor; was again United States Senator, 1857-1861, when he resigned, having been elected Vice-President on the ticket with Abraham Lincoln; was Collector of the Port of Boston, 1865-1866, when he resigned; was again United States Senator, 1869-1881.

CHAPTER VIII. WASHINGTON A VAST GARRISON.

When Congress met on the first Monday in December, 1861, Washington was a vast citadel. A cordon of forts completely encircled it on the commanding heights, each one armed, provisioned, and garrisoned. On the large plain east of the Capitol and on the south side of the Potomac were encamped large bodies of troops. Regiments were constantly on the march through the city. Long wagon trains laden with provisions or ammunition were dragged through the mud of the then unpaved streets. Mounted orderlies galloped to and fro, bearing returns, requisitions, and despatches. The old flag was hoisted in every direction at sunrise, and lowered when the evening gun was fired, while the music of bands and the shrill notes of drums and fifes rang forth the "music of the Union."

An amusing sight was frequently enjoyed when newly formed regiments arrived. They usually came with the glowing colors of new equipments, and the vigorous zeal of newly organized drum and fife corps, if not, indeed, of a full band. A richly dressed drum-major generally marched at the head of these displays, and his gaudy uniform, bearskin shako with its plume, glittering baton, with its incessant twirling and rhythmical movement, excited the greatest enthusiasm and admiration among the throngs of observing negroes. To them the tambour major was by far the greatest soldier of the day.

For miles in every direction the country was picketed, and martial law was rigidly enforced. All persons going toward the front must be provided with passes, which were very closely scrutinized at every picket-post. In times of special peril those moving northward underwent the same ordeal. War, with all its severities and horrors, was continually at the doors of those who dwelt in Washington.

Congress, for the first time since the seat of Government was removed to Washington from Philadelphia, occupied an entirely subordinate position, and it might well be said the "inter arma silent leges"—laws are silent in the midst of armies. It was not long, however, before the Senators and Representatives reasserted their authority. Simon Cameron's report as Secretary of War, as originally prepared, printed, and sent over the country for publication, took advanced ground on the slavery question. He advocated the emancipation of the slaves in the rebel States, the conversion to the use of the National Government of all property, whether slave or otherwise, belonging to the rebels, and the resort to every military means of suppressing the Rebellion, even the employment of armed negroes.

President Lincoln, at the instance of Secretary Seward and General McClellan, declined to accept these anti-slavery views from his subordinate, and ordered the return of the advance copies distributed for revision and amendment. It happened, however, that several newspapers had published the report as originally written. When they republished it, as modified, the public had the benefit of both versions. The President struck out all that Secretary Cameron had written on the slavery question, and substituted a single paragraph which was self-evidently from the Presidential pen. The speculations of the Secretary as to the propriety of arming the negroes were canceled, and we were simply told that it would be impolitic for the escaped slaves of rebels to be returned again to be used against us. Secretary Chase sustained Secretary Cameron, but Secretary Seward, the former champion of higher law and abolitionism, was so conservative at this crisis of the great struggle between freedom and slavery, as to disgruntle many ardent supporters of the principles of which he had once assumed to be the champion.

When Congress assembled there were many vacant seats at either end of the Capitol. In the Senate Chamber ten States of the thirty- six were unrepresented, and the Virginia nominally represented was that portion of the Old Dominion within the range of Union cannon. Vice-President Hamlin, who presided, was one of the Democrats who had gone into the Republican camp. Of medium height, with a massive head, dark complexion, cleanly shaven face, he was ever prompt and diligent in the transaction of business. At all seasons of the year he wore a suit of black, with a dress-coat, and could never be persuaded to wear an overcoat, even in the coldest weather. He was noted for his fidelity to political friends, and at Washington he always had their interests at heart.

William Pitt Fessenden, Chairman of the Senate Committee on Finance, was really the leader of the Republican party in the Upper House. He was a statesman of great power and comprehensiveness, who possessed mental energies of the very highest order, and whose logic in debate was like a chain, which his hearers often hated to be confined with, yet knew not how to break. To courage and power in debate he united profound legal knowledge and a very extraordinary aptitude for public business. Originally an ardent Whig, his whole political life had been spent in earnestly opposing the men and measures of the Democratic party, nor did he possess that adaptability of opinion so characteristic of modern politicians. Born and reared in the days when the "giants of the Republic" were living, and to some extent, a contemporary actor in the leading events of the times, he had learned to think for himself, and prefer the individuality of conscientious conviction to the questionable subservience of partisan policy.

Senator Sumner regarded his position as Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Relations as superior to all others in Congress, while he was unquestionably the leader of the Abolition wing of the Republican party. Having been abroad himself, he knew the necessity for having, especially at that time, the country represented by educated gentlemen, and Mr. Seward often found it a difficult matter to persuade him to consent to the appointment of some rural politician to a place of diplomatic importance. Objection was made to one nomination, on the ground that the person was a drunkard, and a leading Senator came one morning before the Committee to refute the charge. He made quite an argument, closing by saying: "No, gentlemen, he is not a drunkard. He may, occasionally, as I do myself, take a glass of wine, but I assure you, on the honor of a gentleman, he never gets drunk." Upon this representation the appointment was favorably reported upon and confirmed by the Senate, but it was soon evident that the person was an incorrigible sot, and when it became absolutely necessary to remove him, it leaked out that he had retained and paid the Senator for vouching for his temperate habits.

Senator Wilson, who wielded enormous power as Chairman of the Committee on Military Affairs, had been, before the war, a brigadier- general of militia in Massachusetts. He had raised a three-years' regiment, which he had brought to Washington, but not wishing to take the field, he had resigned the command, and had solicited from General McClellan a position on his staff. When he reported for duty he was ordered to appear the next morning mounted, and accompanied by two other staff officers, in a tour of inspection around the fortifications. Unaccustomed to horsemanship, the ride of thirty miles was too much for the Senator, who kept his bed for a week, and then resigned his staff position. He performed herculean labors on his Committee, and examined personally the recommendations upon which thousands of appointments had been made. That at times he was prejudiced against those who were opposed to emancipation could not be denied, but he honestly endeavored to have the Union army well officered, well fed, and promptly paid.

The Chairman of the Naval Committee was Mr. Grimes, of Iowa, who mastered the wants and became acquainted with the welfare of that branch of the service, and who urged liberal appropriations for it in a lucid, comprehensive, and vigorous manner. An enemy of all shams, he was a tower of strength for the Administration in the Senate. Then there was bluff Ben Wade, of Ohio, whose honestly was strongly tinged by ambition, and who looked at the contest with the merciless eyes of a gladiator about to close in a death-grip. John Sherman had just been transplanted from the House, Secretary Chase having urged him to remain in the Senate, rather than resign and take the field, as he had wished to. Nye, of Nevada, who sat next to Mr. Sumner, was a native wit of "infinite jest" and most "excellent fancy," who enlivened the Senate with his bon mots and genial humor. Trumbull, Harlan, Pomeroy, Lot Morrill, Zach. Chandler, Daniel Clark, Ira Harris, Jacob Collamer, Solomon Foote, Lafayette S. Foster, and David Wilmot were all men of ability. Indeed, the Republican Senators, as a whole, were men of remarkable intelligence, while the fourteen or fifteen Democratic Senators, deprived of their associates who had seceded, found it difficult to make a respectable showing of legislation.

The House, where there were also many vacant seats, elected Galusha A. Grow, of Pennsylvania, Speaker. He was a thorough politician and a good presiding officer, possessing the tact, the quickness of perception, and the decision acquired by editorial experience. Thaddeus Stevens was the despotic ruler of the House. No Republican was permitted by "Old Thad" to oppose his imperious will without receiving a tongue-lashing that terrified others if it did not bring the refractory Representative back into party harness. Rising by degrees, as a telescope is pulled out, until he stood in a most ungraceful attitude, his heavy black hair falling down over his cavernous brows, and his cold little eyes twinkling with anger, he would make some ludicrous remark, and then, reaching to his full height, he would lecture the offender against party discipline, sweeping at him with his large, bony right hand, in uncouth gestures, as if he would clutch him and shake him. He would often use invectives, which he took care should never appear printed in the official reports, and John Randolph in his braggart prime was never so imperiously insulting as was Mr. Stevens toward those whose political action he controlled. He was firm believer in the old maxim ascribed to the Jesuits, "The end justifies the means," and, while he set morality at defiance, he was an early and a zealous champion of the equality of the black and the white races.

There were many able men among the Republican Representatives. Dawes, of Massachusetts, had acquired a deserved reputation for honesty, sincerity, and untiring industry. Elihu B. Washburne was an experienced politician and a practical legislator. Sam Hooper was a noble specimen of the Boston merchant, who had always preserved his reputation for exact dealings, and whose liberal charities eclipsed his generous hospitalities. Roscoe Conkling, who had just entered upon the theatre of his future fame, commanded attention by his superb choice of words in debate and by his wonderful felicity of expression and epigrammatic style. Alexander H. Rice reflected honor upon his Boston constituents. John B. Alley was a true representative of the industrial interests and anti-slavery sentiments of old Essex. William D. Kelley was on the threshold of a long career of parliamentary usefulness, and Edward McPherson, a man of facts and figures, blindly devoted to his party, was ever ready to spring some ingenious parliamentary trap for the discomfiture of its opponents.

The Democratic opposition was not strong. Among Kentucky's Representatives were the veteran John J. Crittenden, who had so long been kept under the shadow of the representation of Henry Clay, and Charles A. Wickliffe, portly in figure and florid in features, who clung to the ruffled-bosom shirt of his boyhood. Daniel Voorhees, the "Tall Sycamore of the Wabash," would occasionally launch out in a bold strain of defiance and invective against the measures for the restoration of the Union, in which he would be seconded by Clement L. Vallandingham, of Ohio, and by the facetious S. S. Cox, who then represented an Ohio district.

The Congressional Committee on the Conduct of the War was a mischievous organization, which assumed dictatorial powers. Summoning generals before them, and having a phonographer to record every word uttered, they would propound very comprehensive questions. The first question put by them was generally about identical with that which the militia captain, who fell into the cellar-way after an arduous attempt to drill his company, asked a benevolent Quaker lady who rushed forward to express her sympathy, as he struggled to extricate himself: "What do you know about war?" If the general in hand was a political brigadier or major-general, who had been in the habit before the war of saving his country on the stump, he would proceed to discuss the origin and cure of the Rebellion, greatly to the satisfaction of the Committee, and they would ascertain at once that so far as his principles were concerned, the ought to have commanded the Army of the Potomac. If the general called and questioned happened to be one of the numerous class who had formed the acquaintance of the green-eyed monster, he entertained the Committee with shocking stories of his superior officers. He scolded and carped and criticised and caviled, told half truths and solid lies, and the august and astute Committee listened with open ears, and the phonographer dotted down every word. So the meanest gossip and slang of the camp was raked into a heap and preserved in official form.

[Facsimile] BenjWade BENJAMIN F. WADE was born at Feeding Hills Parish, near Springfield, Massachusetts, October 17th, 1800; removed to Ohio; was United States Senator, 1851-1869, and died at Jefferson, Ohio, March 2d, 1878.

CHAPTER IX. THE METROPOLIS IN TIME OF WAR.

President Lincoln had a bright, spring-like day for his first New Year's reception, and the dignitaries who in turn paid their respects found such a crowd around the door of the White House that they experienced some little inconvenience in reaching the interior. Lord Lyons, of England, and M. Mercier, of France, were prominent among the diplomats, and General McDowell headed the army officers, General McClellan being ill. At noon the public were admitted, order being maintained by the police, who appeared for the first time in uniform. Passing on to the reception-room, the people met and shook hands with the President, near whom stood Mrs. Lincoln, who was attended by the United States Marshal of the District, Colonel Lamon, Captain Darling, chief of the Capitol police, and the President's secretaries. The visitors thence passed to the great East Room, where it was apparent they were unusually numerous, more strangers being present in Washington at the time, perhaps, than ever before. The crowd, indeed, as looked upon by old residents, appeared to present new faces almost entirely. The general scene was brilliant and animating, and the whole was enlivened, as usual, by strains of the Marine Band, which was stationed in the vestibule. By two o'clock the promenaders generally had departed by means of a platform for egress, constructed through one of the large windows at the front of the mansion.

The Abolitionists were greatly disappointed because there had not been any insurrectionary movements among the slaves at the South, which had been looked for at the Christmas holidays, and they then increased their exertions to make Mr. Lincoln issue a proclamation abolishing slavery. At the twenty-ninth annual meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society, held at Boston, in January, 1862, Wendell Phillips, with a sneer, expressed himself thus: "Mr. Seward had predicted that the war would be over in ninety days, but he didn't believe, as things were going, it would be over in ninety years. He believed Lincoln was honest, but as a pint-pot may be full, and yet not be so full as a quart, so there is a vast difference between the honesty of a small man and the honesty of a statesman."

There was an imposing parade through the streets of a new arm of the military service, a battalion or regiment of mounted lancers. The men carried lances about twelve feet long, held upright as they rode, and having black staffs and bright spear heads, something like the sword bayonet, though only about half as long. This corps was under the command of Colonel Rush, of Pennsylvania. Each horseman bore a small red flag on the top of his lance, and the novelty of the display attracted much attention, though the spectators, not greatly impressed with the effectiveness of the weapon with which the corps was armed, gave them the sobriquet "Turkey Drivers," which stuck to them ever afterward.

President Lincoln had a pet scheme during the war for establishing a colony of contrabands at the Chiriqui Lagoon, with a new transit route across the Isthmus to the harbor of Golfito, on the Pacific. The first company of emigrants, composed of freeborn negroes and liberated slaves, was organized, under President Lincoln's personal supervision, by Senator Pomeroy, of Kansas, and would have started, but the diplomatic representative of Costa Rica protested. Negro settlers, he said, would be welcomed in the province of Chiriqui, but such a colony as it was proposed to establish would necessarily be under the protection of the United States, and grave difficulties might ensue. Besides, such a colony would almost invite an attack from the Confederates, then quite powerful, who would seek their slaves, and who would regard a negro colony with especial aversion.

Mr. Lincoln regretted this fiasco, as negro colonization was his favorite panacea for the national troubles. He again and again declared that the continuance of the African race in the United States could but be injurious to both blacks and whites, and that the expatriation and colonization of the negro was a political necessity. Those who had zealously opposed slavery and who had regarded the war as securing the freedom of the negroes, combated the President's scheme. They insisted that the blacks had a right to remain in the land of their birth, and declared that expatriation, as a measure of political economy, would be fatal to the prosperity of the country, for it would drive away a large amount of productive labor. A colony was subsequently taken to one of the West India Islands, but it was a miserable failure, and the colonists, after great suffering, were brought back.

The scandals concerning army contracts enabled the Abolitionists to secure the transfer of Simon Cameron from the War Department to the Russian Mission, and the appointment of Edwin M. Stanton in his place. It should not be forgotten that Mr. Cameron is entitled to great credit for the energy and skill with which he managed the War Office from March, 1861, until February, 1862. He laid the foundation of that military organization which eventually, under the leadership of Grant and Sherman, crushed the Rebellion and restored the Union. One of the regiments which came to Washington from New York, the Seventy-ninth Highlanders, becoming wretchedly disorganized, he detailed his brother, Colonel James Cameron, to command it. This settled all differences, the Scotchmen remembering the proverb that "The Camerons of Lochiel never proved false to a friend or a foe." In a few weeks, however, Colonel Cameron was killed at the Battle of Bull Run while bravely leading his men against the enemy. The weight of this great calamity fell upon Secretary Cameron at a time when the utmost powers of his mind were being exerted to save Washington from capture. For a brief period it crushed him, but the dangers then surrounding the national cause were too numerous and too threatening to admit of anything but redoubled exertions to avert them. Summoning, therefore, all his fortitude and energy, he for the moment suppressed his intense grief and recommenced his labors. New armies were organized as if by magic, and Washington was saved.

Mr. Stanton's strong will was relied upon by the Abolitionists for the control of General McClellan, who had given some indications of his willingness to restore the Union "as it was," with slavery legalized and protected. While "Little Mac" had become the idol of the rank and file of the Army of the Potomac, which he had thoroughly organized and equipped, he had also provoked the opposition of those in his rear from whom he should have received encouragement and support. Naturally cautious, he hesitated about moving when he knew that if successful he would immediately be crippled by the withdrawal of a portion of his command. A prominent politician, more outspoken than some of them around him, is quoted by General Custer as having said: "It is not on our books that McClellan should take Richmond."

Mr. Stanton had witnessed so much treason while he was a member of Buchanan's Cabinet, that he determined to know exactly what was done by every officer of the army, and one of his first acts was to have news sent over the wires pass through the War Department. Every wire in the country was "tapped" and its contents made a matter of record. Every telegram sent by President Lincoln or the members of his Cabinet to the generals in the field, or received by them from those generals, was put on record at Washington, as were all cipher despatches, deciphered by General Eckert. On one occasion a despatch from General Rufus Ingalls to Senator Nesmith puzzled every one at the War Department except Quartermaster-General Meigs, who was positive that it was Bohemian. Finally an officer who had served on the Pacific coast recognized it as "Chinook," a compound of the English, Chinese, and Indian languages used by the whites in trading with the Chinook Indians. The despatch was a harmless request from General Ingalls to his old friend "Nes." to come and witness an impeding engagement.

A detective system of espionage had been organized by Mr. Seward for the protection of the United States Government against the adherents of the Confederate cause. The reports made by this corps of detectives to the Department of State showed the daring acts of the Southern sympathizers, several of whom were ladies of wealth and fashion. How they watched and waited at official doors till they had bagged the important secret of state they wanted; how they stole military maps from the War Department; how they took copies of official documents; how they smuggled the news of the Government's strength in the linings of honest-looking coats; and how they hid army secrets in the meshes of unsuspected crinoline—all these became familiar facts, almost ceasing to excite remark or surprise. The head of this branch of the service was General Lafayette S. Baker.

Of this band of active and useful plotters, who were constantly engaged playing into the hands of the Confederates under the very shadow of the Capitol, some of the women of Washington were the busiest. The intriguing nature of these dames appears to have found especial delight in forwarding the schemes of the leaders in the movement to overthrow the Washington Government. It mattered not that most of them owed all they possessed of fortune and position to that Federal Government, and to the patronage which, directly or indirectly, they had received from it. This very fact lent a spice of daring to the deed, while an irresistible attraction was furnished in the fact that they were plotting the ruin of a Government which had fallen into the hands of that Northern majority whom, with all the lofty scorn of "patrician" blood, they despised and detested.

Mrs. Rose O. H. Greenhow was the most adroit of the Confederate emissaries. The sister of Mrs. Cutts, mother of Mrs. Douglas, and the widow of a clerk in the State Department, who had written a valuable work on Oregon, her social position gave her remarkable facilities for obtaining information. Just before the battle of Bull Run she contrived to convey to the enemy news obtained from a New England Senator with regard to the intended movements of the Federals. This communication, in her own opinion, decided the battle. In return she received this despatch from the Confederate Adjutant-General: "Our President and our General direct me to thank you. We rely upon you for further information. The Confederacy owes you a debt."

Mrs. Greenhow's house was finally used as a prison for female spies. The windows looking on the street were boarded up, and a special military guard occupied tents pitched in the garden. Mrs. Greenhow and her pretty daughter Rose were the presiding deities. Then there was Mrs. Phillips, daughter of J. C. Levy, of Charleston, S. C., where she married Philip Phillips, who afterward removed to Mobile and was elected thence to the Thirty-third Congress. Declining a re-election, he remained at Washington City, where he had a lucrative practice before the Supreme Court. Mrs. Phillips, although the mother of nine children, found time to obtain and transmit information to General Beauregard, and after having been closely guarded for awhile, she was permitted to go South on her parole and that of her father, that she would not give "aid or comfort to the enemy."

Mrs. Baxley, Mrs. Hasler, Miss Lilly A. Mackel, Mrs. Levy, and other lady prisoners had all been more or less prominent in Southern society at Washington, and had made trips over the underground railroad between Alexandria and Richmond. Also an English lady, Mrs. Ellena Low, who had been arrested at Boston, with her son, who had crossed the ocean bearing a commission in the Confederate army. Miss E. M. Poole, alias Stewart, had been very successful in carrying contraband information and funds between the two camps, and when arrested the last time there were found concealed on her person seven thousand five hundred dollars of unexpended funds.

Another devoted friend of the Confederates, who resided just outside of the Union lines in Virginia, managed to fascinate General Stoughton, a young West Point cavalry officer, and one evening while he was enjoying her society, during a serenade by a regimental band, he, with his band and orderlies, was surprised and captured, and they were sent as prisoners-of-war to Richmond. "I do not mind losing the brigadier," said Mr. Lincoln, in talking about the capture, "for they are easily made, but there were some twenty horses taken, and they cost one hundred and twenty-five dollars apiece."

[Facsimile] SimonCameron SIMON CAMERON was born at Waynesborough, Pennsylvania, March 3d, 1799; learned the art of printing; was Secretary of War under President Lincoln, in 1861, resigning when appointed Minister Plenipotentiary to Russia, in 1862; was United States Senator from Pennsylvania, 1845-1849, 1857-1861, and 1867-1877, when he resigned, and was succeeded by his son.

CHAPTER X. FASHION, LITERATURE, AND ART.

Washington "society" refused to be comforted. Those within its charmed circle would not visit the White House, or have any intercourse with the members of the Administration. This gave great annoyance to Mr. Seward, who used diplomatic and consular appointments, commissions, and contracts unsparingly for the purchase of a friendly feeling. At his urgent solicitation the President consented to an evening reception at the White House, by invitation. "I don't fancy this pass business," said the President, good- naturedly, but the metropolitan practicians could not refrain from applying for them. The evening of February 5th, 1862, found the court-yard of the White House filled with carriages and ambulances bringing "fair women and brave men."

The President and Mrs. Lincoln received their guests in the East Room, where he towered above all around him, and had a pleasant word for those he knew. Mrs. Lincoln was dressed in a white satin dress with a low neck and short sleeves. It was trimmed with black lace flounces, which were looped up with knots of ribbon, and she wore a floral head-dress, which was not very becoming. Near her was her eldest son, Mr. Robert Lincoln (known as the Prince of Rails), and Mr. John Hay, the President's intellectual private secretary. In addition to the East Room, the Red, Green, and Blue Parlors (so named from the color of their paper-hangings and the furniture) were open, and were ornamented with a profusion of rare exotics, while the Marine Band, stationed in the corridor, discoursed fine music.

Mr. Seward was in his element, escorting, as in duty bound, the ladies of the Diplomatic Corps. Mr. Chase, the dignified and statesman-like Secretary of the Treasury, seemed to have forgotten for the moment that his coffers were "short." Mr. Stanton, vigorous and thoughtful, was the object of much attention, and the patriarchal locks and beard of the not over-scintillant Secretary of the Navy were, of course, a feature. The other members of the Cabinet were present, as were Justices Clifford, Wayne, and Grier, of the Supreme Court.

Senator Sumner, as Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Relations, was the centre of a diplomatic circle, where all of the "great powers," and some of the smaller ones, were represented. Ladies from the rural districts were disappointed in not seeing the gorgeous court costumes, having forgotten that our court-dress is the undertaker-like suit of black broadcloth so generally worn. But they gazed with admiration upon the broad ribbons and jeweled badges worn on the breasts of the Chevaliers of the Legion of Honor, Knights of the Bath, etc., "with distinguished consideration." Vice-President Hamlin might have called the Senate to order and had more than a quorum of members present, who, like himself, had their wives here to cheer their labors. Mr. Speaker Grow could not see around him so large a proportion of the "Lower House," but there was—so a Kentucky lady said—"a right smart chance of Representatives."

General McClellan, in full uniform, looked finely. Among his staff officers were the French Princes, each wearing a captain's uniform. The Comte de Paris was tall and very handsome, while the Duc du Chartres was taller, thinner, less handsome than his brother. Both were remarkably cordial and affable, and, as they spoke English perfectly, they enjoyed the gay scene. General Fremont, in a plain undress suit, seemed rather downcast, although his devoted wife, "Jessie," more than made up for his moodiness by her animated and vivacious conversation. There were, besides Generals McDowell, Stone, Heintzelman, Blenker, Hancock, Hooker, Keyes, Doubleday, Casey, Shields, and Marcy, with Captain Dahlgren and the Prince Salm-Salm. Of those present many fought, and some fell, on the various fields of the next three dreadful years. There were others who were destined to do their duty and yet be mistaken and defrauded of their just inheritance of glory. Such was the fortune of war.

An incident of the evening was the presentation of General Fremont to General McClellan by President Lincoln. General Fremont was in the hall, evidently about to leave, as Mrs. Fremont had her shawl on, and Senator Sumner was escorting her toward the door, when the President went after them, and soon turned toward the East Room, with the Pathfinder at his side, Senator Sumner and Mrs. Fremont following. The presentation was made, and a few remarks were exchanged by the Generals, two men who were destined to exert a marked influence on the future destiny of the nation.

A magnificent supper had been provided in the state dining-room by Maillard, of New York, but when the hour of eleven came, and the door should have been opened, the flustered steward had lost the key, so that there was a hungry crowd waiting anxiously outside the unyielding portal. Then the irrepressible humor of the American people broke forth—that grim humor which carried them through the subsequent misery. "I am in favor of a forward movement!" one would exclaim. "An advance to the front is only retarded by the imbecility of commanders," said another, quoting a speech just made in Congress. To all this General McClellan, himself modestly struggling with the crowd, laughed as heartily as anybody. Finally the key was found, the door opened, and the crowd fed.

The table was decorated with large pieces of ornamental confectionery, the centre object representing the steamer "Union," armed and bearing the "Stars and Stripes." On a side table was a model of Fort Sumter, also in sugar, and provisioned with game. After supper promenading was resumed, and it was three o'clock ere the guests departed. The entertainment was pronounced a decided success, but it was compared to the ball given by the Duchess of Richmond, at Brussels, the night before Waterloo. People parted there never to meet again. Many a poor fellow took his leave that night of festivity forever, the band playing, as he left, "The Girl I Left Behind Me."

The Abolitionists throughout the country were merciless in their criticisms of the President and Mrs. Lincoln for giving this reception when the soldiers of the Union were in cheerless bivouacs or comfortless hospitals, and a Philadelphia poet wrote a scandalous ode on the occasion, entitled "The Queen Must Dance."

There was no dancing, nor was it generally known that after the invitations had been issued Mrs. Lincoln's children sickened, and she had been up the two nights previous to the reception watching with them. Both the President and Mrs. Lincoln left the gay throng several times to go up and see their darling Willie, who passed away a fortnight afterward. He was a fine-looking lad, eleven years of age, whose intelligence and vivacity made him a general favorite. Some of his exercises in literary composition had been so creditable that his father had permitted their publication. This bereavement made Mr. Lincoln and his wife very indulgent toward their youngest son, who thenceforth imperiously ruled at the White House.

Washington City profited by its encircling garrison of one hundred and fifty thousand men, and its population of civilians increased wonderfully. Previously the crowds of people who had flooded Washington at inauguration ceremonies, or during the sessions of Congress, had been of the quick-come, quick-go character almost exclusively. They had added nothing to the general business of the city, stopping altogether at hotels, and making no investments in the way of purchases. Even Congressmen had latterly very seldom brought their families to the Federal capital. But the representatives of the military power formed another class of citizens entirely. Unlike the representatives of the legislative power, who had treated their quarters in Washington as mere "tents of a night," the army had taken all the vacant houses in Washington. The fears of a bombardment by the rebels on the Potomac had the effect of keeping up prices of provisions and everything else. The residents of Washington experienced the evils of living in a non-manufacturing and non-producing country. The single-track railway to Baltimore was over-loaded by the army, and the freight depot in the city was crammed and piled with stuff of every description that it presented the appearance of about five hundred Noah's arks suddenly tumbled into a conglomerated heap.

With the army and its camp-followers, there came a number of literati to accept clerical positions in the Departments. At the Treasury one could see the veteran Dr. Pierpont, George Wood, O'Connor, Piatt, Chilton, and Dr. Elder, all hopefully engaged in signing, cutting, or recording Government notes and bonds. Entering the library of the State Department, one saw J. C. Derby, so long in the front rank of New York publishers, then Mr. Seward's librarian. On Pennsylvania Avenue was Fred Cozzens' store, to which Mr. Sparrowgrass had transported his Catawbas and Cabanas. At the White House one would perhaps meet N. P. Willis in the reception- room, and in Mr. Nicolay's up-stairs sanctum was John Hay, whose Atlantic papers were written with such purity of style and feeling at his desk as under-secretary to the President. Then, among women writers, there were Mesdames Don Piatt, Squier, Olmstead, and Kirkland. The Vermont sculptor, Larkin Meade, had his "Green Mountain Boy" on exhibition at a popular bookstore on the Avenue.

With this importation of Northern brains came a desire to hear lectures from prominent men, and Professor Henry was reluctantly induced to grant the use of the lecture hall of the Smithsonian Institution, with a promise that it should be announced that the Institution was not to be held responsible for what might be said. When the first lecture was given, the Rev. John Pierpont, after introducing the lecturer, added: "I am requested by Professor Henry, to announce that the Smithsonian Institution is not responsible for this course of lectures. I do so with pleasure, and desire to add that the Washington Lecture Association is not responsible for the Smithsonian Institution." The satire was appreciated and received with applause. Throughout the course Mr. Pierpont repeated his announcement before each weekly lecture, and no sooner would he say, "I am requested," then the large audience would applaud.