Perley's Reminiscences Part 31

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 pa.s.sed 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 cla.s.s 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.

Sparrowgra.s.s 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 Inst.i.tution, with a promise that it should be announced that the Inst.i.tution 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 Inst.i.tution is not responsible for this course of lectures. I do so with pleasure, and desire to add that the Washington Lecture a.s.sociation is not responsible for the Smithsonian Inst.i.tution." 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.

Isaac Newton, of Philadelphia, was placed at the head of the Agricultural Bureau of the Patent Office, by President Lincoln, and in due time he became the head of the newly created Department of Agriculture. He was an ignorant, credulous old gentleman, quite rotund around the waistband, with snow-white hair and a mild blue eye. Educated a Quaker, he had acc.u.mulated some property by keeping an ice-cream saloon in Philadelphia, and he then established a farm, from which he obtained his supplies of cream. At Washington he was known as "Sir Isaac," and many anecdotes were told at his expense. One year, when the expenditures of his department had been very great, and the Chairman of the Committee on Agriculture called on him to ascertain how he had used up so much money, Sir Isaac spluttered and talked learnedly, and at last concluded by saying: "Yes, sir; the expenses have been very great, exorbitant; indeed, sir, they have exceeded my most sanguine expectations."

The Chairman was not satisfied. Looking over Sir Isaac's estimate for the year, it was found he had made requisition for five thousand dollars to purchase two hydraulic rams. "Them, gentlemen," said Sir Isaac, "are said to be the best sheep in Europe. I have seen a gentleman who knows all about them, and we should by all means secure the breed." Some wag had been selling Sir Isaac, and, much to his disgust, the Committee struck out the five-thousand-dollar item.

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S.P.Chase SALMON PORTLAND CHASE was born at Cornish, New Hampshire, January 13th, 1808; graduated at Dartmouth College in 1826; studied law at Washington with William Wirt, supporting himself by teaching school; commenced practice at Cincinnati in 1830; was United States Senator from Ohio, 1849-1853; was Governor of Ohio, 1855-1859; was again United States Senator, March 4th, 1861, and resigned the next day to become Secretary of the Treasury under President Lincoln, which position he held until he resigned in September, 1864; was appointed Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, December 6th, 1864; presided at the impeachment trial of President Johnson in 1866, and died at New York, May 7th, 1873.

CHAPTER XI.

THE FORTUNES OF WAR.

With the war came the army correspondents. d.i.c.kens had previously introduced Martin Chuzzlewit to "our war correspondent, sir, Mr.

Jefferson Brick," several years previously, but the warlike experiences of the redoubtable Mr. Brick were of a purely sedentary character, and his epistles were written at the home office. But Washington was now invaded by a corps of quick-witted, plucky young fellows, able to endure fatigue, brave enough to be under fire, and sufficiently well educated to enable them to dash off a grammatical and picturesque description of a skirmish.

Occasionally, one of them, by eulogizing a general in command, was enabled to go to the front as a gentleman, but generally they were proscribed and hunted out from camps like spies. Secretary Stanton bullied them, established a censorship at Washington, and occasionally imprisoned one, or stopped the publication of the paper with which he corresponded. Halleck denounced them as "unauthorized hangers- on," who should be compelled to work on the entrenchments if they did not leave his lines. General Meade was unnecessarily severe in his treatment of correspondents whose letters were not agreeable to him, although they contained "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." The result was that the correspondents were forced to hover around the rear of the armies, gathering up such information as they could, and then ride in haste to the nearest available telegraph station to send off their news. There were honorable and talented exceptions, but the majority of those who called themselves "war correspondents" were mere news- scavengers.

The Washington press was despotically governed during the war.

The established censorship was under the direction of men wholly unqualified, and on several occasions the printed editions of influential journals--Republican or Democratic--were seized by Secretary Stanton for having published intelligence which he thought should have been suppressed. Bulletins were issued by the War Department, but they were often incorrect. It was known that the Washington papers, full of military information, were forwarded through the lines daily, yet the censors would not permit paragraphs clipped from those papers to be telegraphed to Boston or Chicago, where they could not appear sooner than they did in the Richmond papers. The declaration, "I am a newspaper correspondent," which had in former years carried with it the imposing force of the famous, "I am a Roman citizen," no longer ent.i.tled one to the same proud prerogatives, and journalists were regarded as spies and sneaks.

Colonel John W. Forney, Secretary of the United States Senate and editor of the Philadelphia _Press_, established the _Sunday Chronicle_ at Washington, and in time made it the _Daily Chronicle_. When in Washington, he was constantly dictating letters for the _Press_ and editorials for the _Chronicle_. When in Philadelphia, he dictated editorials for the _Press_ and letters for the _Chronicle_.

Each paper copied his letters from the other. When in New York, he dictated editorial letters to his papers alternately, and they were signed "J. W. F." His Washington letters to the _Press_ and his Philadelphia letters to the _Chronicle_ were signed, "Occasional,"

though the most remarkable thing about them was their regularity.

The Washington _Chronicle_ received editorial and other contributions from some of the ablest writers in the country. Editorials on foreign topics were supplied by Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie, of the Philadelphia _Press_. Robert J. Walker wrote a series of powerful articles on the desirableness of Secretary Seward's pet project, the acquisition of Alaska, and Caleb Cushing was a frequent editorial contributor. It had a large circulation, the Army of the Potomac taking ten thousand copies a day, and the lucrative advertising of the Department was given to it.

Independence Day, 1862, was not joyously celebrated at Washington.

The martial pageant with which the day had been glorified in years past had been replaced by the stern realities of war, and the hospitals were crowded with the sick, the wounded, and the dying.

The week previous General McClellan, after a campaign of great severity in the Peninsula, and having been in sight of Richmond, had been so crippled by the failure of Secretary Stanton to send him more troops that he had been forced to retreat from Chickahominy, and seek the shelter of the gunboats on the River James. The President, at the request of the Governors of the loyal States, promptly called into the service an additional force of three hundred thousand men. Those who had advocated the arming of the negroes availed themselves of the occasion to urge their enlistment; but the Secretary of War, in conversation with conservatives, opposed it. Mr. Mallory, of Kentucky, stated on the floor of the House (and his statement was never contradicted) that, having business at the War Department, Mr. Stanton called him back, and, folding over the date and signature of a letter, showed him that an officer had asked authority to raise a regiment of blacks. The Secretary inquired what answer ought to be given, to which he (Mallory) replied, "If you allow me to dictate an answer, I would say, emphatically, No!" The Secretary rejoined that he had not only done that, but had ordered the officer's arrest.

The people responded gloriously to the demand for more troops, and by the middle of August, 1862, they were pouring into Washington at the rate of a brigade a day. The regiments, on their arrival, were marched past the White House, singing, "We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more." And "Father Abraham" often kindled their highest enthusiasm by coming to the front entrance and in person reviewing the pa.s.sing hosts. The troops then crossed the Potomac, where the hills were whitened with the tents of camps of instruction, where an army of reserves was soon produced. Mr.

Greeley, however, was not satisfied with the military preparations, and he published an insolent letter to President Lincoln, in which he charged him with being "disastrously remiss in enforcing the laws." Mr. Lincoln replied, calmly but positively: "I would save the Union. I would save it in the shortest way, under the Const.i.tution. If I could save the Union without freeing any slaves I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone I would also do that. What I do about slavery and the colored race, I do because I believe it helps to save the Union, and what I forbear, I forbear because I do not believe it would help to save the Union. I shall do less whenever I shall believe that what I am doing hurts the cause, and I shall do more whenever I believe doing more will help the cause. I shall try to correct errors when shown to be errors, and I shall adopt new views so fast as they shall appear to be true views."

President Lincoln finally found that he could not sustain General McClellan any longer, and offered General Burnside the command of the Army of the Potomac, which was promptly and peremptorily declined. General McClellan was soon virtually deposed, and General Halleck placed in command, while a large portion of the Army of the Potomac was organized as the Army of Virginia, and placed under the command of Major-General John Pope, who boasted that he was fresh from a campaign in the West, where he had "seen only the backs of rebels." The result was that the new commander was not cordially supported, and the Army of Virginia was wrecked beyond compare, and driven back upon Washington, which was threatened by the victorious Confederates.

General Burnside was, for the second time, invited to take command, but he refused, urging President Lincoln to restore General McClellan.

This was undoubtedly the wish of a large majority of the surviving officers and soldiers, and of many leading members of Congress and journalists. The recall of General McClellan to command, and his victory at Antietam, were like a romance. Sitting one day in his tent near Alexandria, with only his body-guard of a hundred men under his command, he was called to save the capital from the vast hosts of enemies that were pouring on it in resistless columns.

To save his native State from the invasion that threatened it, and Maryland from the grasp of a soldiery that would wrest it from the Union, he was offered an army shattered by disaster, and legions of new recruits who had never handled a musket or heard the sound of a hostile cannon. The responsibility was greater than had ever been reposed on the shoulders of one man since the days of Washington.

With a rapidity never equaled in history, he gathered together the army, arranged its forces, made up his corps, chose his generals, and sent them in vigorous pursuit, through Washington and on northward.

The enemy had crossed into Maryland, and were having a triumphant march through that State toward the Pennsylvania line. They issued a sounding proclamation to the people, offering them what they called liberty from oppression, and they acted out the theory of their mad invasion, which was that they were victors and had come to reap, on loyal grounds, the fruit of their victories.

On Sunday the gallant men of the Union Army were on them. They were swept over the South Mountains with the besom of destruction.

On Monday, astonished to meet McClellan, when they had expected to meet those whom they less feared, they called their hosts over the Potomac and prepared for battle. McClellan had previously arranged his strategic plans, and these undoubtedly would have resulted differently but for the inexplicable surrender of Harper's Ferry, leaving our army with little hope of cutting off the retreat of the enemy.

On Tuesday and Wednesday McClellan engaged them in a long and furious contest, the night of Wednesday closing in on them defeated, dispirited, and broken; and when Thursday morning showed the disposition of our army, and the inevitable defeat that awaited them, they left the field, abandoned their wounded, and fled into Virginia, pursued and routed by the army of the Union. Having gloriously performed this great work, General McClellan's stubborn inaction returned, and President Lincoln determined to place General Burnside in command of the Army of the Potomac.

General Burnside reluctantly accepted the command when it was for the third time tendered him, and lost no time in putting its divisions in motion for a rapid advance upon Fredericksburg. Had he found the pontoon train there, as he had expected, he could have thrown a heavy force across the Rappahannock before the enemy could have concentrated to resist his crossing, and he then could have commenced an active, vigorous campaign against Richmond. But before the pontoons had arrived the Confederates had strengthened their forces, and the result was two unsuccessful attacks, with a large loss of men. The country howled with wrath against the Washington officials, who had delayed sending the pontoons, but General Burnside stood up squarely and said, in his open, honest manner, "For the failure in the attack I am responsible."

Learning that Generals Hooker, Newton, Franklin, Cochrane, and others had been intriguing against him and urging his dismissal, General Burnside promptly issued an order dismissing them from the service of the Union. President Lincoln would not consent to this and permit the dismissal of these demoralized officers, whose partisan prejudices had overshadowed their loyalty to their commander.

General Burnside then resigned, General Hooker was appointed his successor, and the Army of the Potomac went into winter quarters on the north bank of the Rappahannock.

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A.E.Burnside AMBROSE EVERETT BURNSIDE was born at Liberty, Indiana, May 23d, 1824; graduated at West Point in 1847; served in the Mexican and Indian Wars, and in the War for the Suppression of the Rebellion; was Governor of Rhode Island, 1866-1868; was United States Senator from March 4th, 1875, until his death at his residence in Bristol, Rhode Island, September 13th, 1881.

CHAPTER XII.

SOCIAL LIFE OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN.

When Congress met in December, 1862, many Republicans were despondent.

The Administration ticket had been defeated in the elections of the preceding month in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Indiana, and Illinois, while in other loyal States the majorities had fallen off--the total returns showing the election of fifty-nine Republican Representatives against forty Democratic Representatives. This encouraged the Abolitionists to urge the emanc.i.p.ation of the slaves, while the conservatives protested against it, but Mr. Lincoln contented himself by saying: "You must not expect me to give up the Government without playing my last card."

The Proclamation of Emanc.i.p.ation, issued by President Lincoln on the 1st of January, 1863, marked an era in the history, not only of the war, but of the Republic and the civilized world. Four millions of human beings, who had been kept in slavery under the protection of the Federal Government, were promised their freedom by the Commander-in-Chief of the army, as a "military necessity,"

and the pledge was gloriously redeemed. In commemoration of this event the colossal group ent.i.tled "Emanc.i.p.ation," located in Lincoln Park, was erected by contributions solely from emanc.i.p.ated persons, and was dedicated April 14th, 1876, Frederick Dougla.s.s being the orator of the occasion. The entire work is twenty-two feet high, and the bronze work alone cost seventeen thousand dollars.

New Year's Day was fair and the walking dry, which made it an agreeable task to keep up the Knickerbocker practice of calling on officials and lady friends. The President, members of the Cabinet, and other Government functionaries received a large number of visitors during the day. At eleven o'clock all officers of the army in the city a.s.sembled at the War Department, and, headed by Adjutant-General Thomas and General Halleck, proceeded to the White House, where they were severally introduced to the President. The officers of the navy a.s.sembled at the Navy Department at the same time, and, headed by Secretary Welles and Admiral Foote, also proceeded to the President's. The display of general officers in brilliant uniforms was an imposing sight, and attracted large crowds. The foreign Ministers, in accordance with the usual custom, also called on the President, and at twelve o'clock the doors were opened to the public, who marched through the hall and shook hands with Mr. Lincoln, to the music of the Marine Band, for two or three hours. Mrs. Lincoln also received ladies in the same parlor with the President.

With the Emanc.i.p.ation Proclamation Washington was treated to a volume of the published diary of Count Gurowski, who had been employed as a translator in the Department of State and as a purveyor of news for Mr. Greeley. His book was one prolonged growl from beginning to end. Even those whom its author seemed inclined to worship at the commencement found their share of abuse before they finished. Introducing the Blairs, of Missouri, with frequent complimentary allusions in his opening chapters, about the middle of his work Gurowski packed them off to Hades with the rest, and left the reader in despair at the prospects of a nation governed by such a set of imbeciles and rogues as our public men were represented to be by the amiable Pole. As he a.s.sailed everybody, those who read the book were sure to find the particular object of their individual dislike soundly rated with the rest.

The author of this production was a singular-looking old man, small in stature, stout of figure, ugly in feature, and disfigured by a pair of green goggles. Gurowski was unsparing in his criticisms.

He set down Seward as writing too much; Sumner as a pompous, verbose talker; Burnside as a swaggering West Pointer, and Hooker as a casual hero. He became so offensive to Mr. Sumner that one morning, after listening to a torrent of his abuse, the Senator arose from his desk, went to the door of his library, opened it, and said to the astonished Pole, "Go!" In vain were apologies proffered. Mr.

Sumner, thoroughly incensed, simply repeated the word "Go!" and at last the astute Gurowski went.

The Army of the Potomac, in comfortable quarters on the north bank of the Rappahannock, received generous contributions of holiday cheer. The marching hosts of Israel were jubilant over a supply of quails, but the Army of the Potomac had showered upon it (by express, paid) a deluge of turkeys, geese, ducks, mince-pies, pickles, and preserves. Of course, the inexorable provost marshal seized all spirituous liquors, but there were ways and means by which this Maine law was evaded. In many a tent there were cylindrical gla.s.s vessels, the contents of which would have been p.r.o.nounced whisky were not that fluid "contraband," with many a quaintly shaped flask of Rhenish wines.

Nor was it forgotten that there was encircling the metropolis a score of hospitals, in which thousands and thousands who had fought the good fight were being nursed into health, or lay tossing on beds of pain, sooner or later to fall into that sleep that knows no waking. These brave patients were not forgotten. The same spirit which prompted the wise men of the East to carry at Christmas- tide present of "gold, frankincense, and myrrh" to the infant Jesus, "G.o.d's best gift to humanity," inspired the Union men and women at Washington with a desire to gladden the hearts of the maimed and scarred and emaciated men who had periled their lives that the Republic might live. Not only did "maidens fair and matrons grave"

toil that the hospital patients might enjoy holiday cheer, but Senator Sumner and other leading Republicans used to go from hospital to hospital, from ward to ward, from bedside to bedside, encouraging by kind words those who were the martyrs of the war. In the Campbell Hospital, under the charge of Surgeon J. H. Baxter, of Vermont, there was a theatre, in which performances were given every night to cheer those who were convalescent.

Henry Wikoff, having admitted before a Committee of the House of Representatives that he had filed at the telegraph office, for transmission to the New York _Herald_, portions of the President's message, he was asked how he obtained it. This he declined to state, saying that he was "under an obligation of strict secrecy."

The House accordingly directed the Sergeant-at-Arms to hold Wikoff in close custody, and he was locked up in a room hastily furnished for his accommodation. It was generally believed that Mrs. Lincoln had permitted Wikoff to copy those portions of the message that he had published, and this opinion was confirmed when General Sickles appeared as his counsel. The General vibrated between Wikoff's place of imprisonment, the White House, and the residence of Mrs.

Lincoln's gardener, named Watt. The Committee finally summoned the General before them, and put some home questions to him. He replied sharply, and for a few minutes a war of words raged. He narrowly escaped Wikoff's fate, but finally, after consulting numerous books of evidence, the Committee concluded not to go to extremities. While the examination was pending, the Sergeant-at- Arms appeared with Watt. He testified that he saw the message in the library, and, being of a literary turn of mind, perused it; that, however, he did not make a copy, but, having a tenacious memory, carried portions of it in his mind, and the next day repeated them word for word to Wikoff. Meanwhile, Mr. Lincoln had visited the Capitol and urged the Republicans on the Committee to spare him disgrace, so Watt's improbable story was received and Wikoff was liberated.

President Lincoln, when a Congressman came to bore him for an appointment or with a grievance, had a pleasant way of telling a succession of stories, which left his visitor no chance to state his case. One day, a Representative, who had been thus silenced, stated from experience as follows: "I've been trying for the last four days to get an audience with the President. I have gone to the White House every morning and waited till dark, but could not get a chance to speak to him until to-day, when I was admitted to his presence. I told him what I wanted, and supposed I was going to get a direct answer, when, what do you think? Why, he started off with, 'Do you know, I heard a good thing yesterday about the difference between an Amsterdam Dutchman and any other "dam"

Dutchman.' And then he commenced telling his stories. I was mad enough to knock the old fellow down. But the worst of the whole thing was that just as he got through with the last story in came Secretary Seward, who said he must have a private conference with him immediately. Mr. Lincoln cooly turned to me and said, 'Mr.

----, can you call again?' Bother his impudence, I say, to keep me listening to his jokes for two hours, and then ask me to call again!"

President Lincoln was quite ill that winter, and was not inclined to listen to all the bores who called at the White House. One day, just as one of these pests had seated himself for a long interview, the President's physician happened to enter the room, and Mr.

Lincoln said, holding out his hands: "Doctor, what are these blotches?" "That's varioloid, or mild small-pox," said the Doctor.

"They're all over me. It is contagious, I believe?" said Mr.