Each Has Its Own Legislature, And Must Have Its Own Line Of
Politics.
The secessionists of Maryland and of Virginia may consent to live in
obscurity; but if this be so, who is to rule in those States?
From
whence are to come the senators and the members of Congress; the
governors and attorney-generals? From whence is to come the
national spirit of the two States, and the salt that shall preserve
their political life? I have never believed that these States would
succeed in secession. I have always felt that they would be held
within the Union, whatever might be their own wishes. But I think
that they will be so held in a manner and after a fashion that will
render any political vitality almost impossible till a new
generation shall have sprung up. In the mean time life goes on
pleasantly enough in Baltimore, and ladies meet together, knitting
stockings and sewing shirts for the Southern soldiers, while the
gentlemen talk Southern politics and drink the health of the
(Southern) president in ambiguous terms, as our Cavaliers used to
drink the health of the king.
During my second visit to Baltimore I went over to Washington for a
day or two, and found the capital still under the empire of King
Mud. How the elite of a nation - for the inhabitants of Washington
consider themselves to be the elite - can consent to live in such a
state of thraldom, a foreigner cannot understand. Were I to say
that it was intended to be typical of the condition of the
government, I might be considered cynical; but undoubtedly the
sloughs of despond which were deepest in their despondency were to
be found in localities which gave an appearance of truth to such a
surmise. The Secretary of State's office, in which Mr. Seward was
still reigning, though with diminished glory, was divided from the
headquarters of the commander-in-chief, which are immediately
opposite to it, by an opaque river which admitted of no transit.
These buildings stand at the corner of President Square, and it had
been long understood that any close intercourse between them had not
been considered desirable by the occupants of the military side of
the causeway. But the Secretary of State's office was altogether
unapproachable without a long circuit and begrimed legs. The
Secretary of War's department was, if possible, in a worse
condition. This is situated on the other side of the President's
house, and the mud lay, if possible, thicker in this quarter than it
did round Mr. Seward's chambers. The passage over Pennsylvania
Avenue, immediately in front of the War Office, was a thing not to
be attempted in those days. Mr. Cameron, it is true, had gone, and
Mr. Stanton was installed; but the labor of cleansing the interior
of that establishment had hitherto allowed no time for a glance at
the exterior dirt, and Mr. Stanton should, perhaps, be held as
excused. That the Navy Office should be buried in mud, and quite
debarred from approach, was to be expected. The space immediately
in front of Mr. Lincoln's own residence was still kept fairly clean,
and I am happy to be able to give testimony to this effect. Long
may it remain so. I could not, however, but think that an energetic
and careful President would have seen to the removal of the dirt
from his own immediate neighborhood. It was something that his own
shoes should remain unpolluted; but the foul mud always clinging to
the boots and leggings of those by whom he was daily surrounded
must, I should think, have been offensive to him. The entrance to
the Treasury was difficult to achieve by those who had not learned
by practice the ways of the place; but I must confess that a
tolerably clear passage was maintained on that side which led
immediately down to the halls of Congress. Up at the Capitol the
mud was again triumphant in the front of the building; this however
was not of great importance, as the legislative chambers of the
States are always reached by the back doors. I, on this occasion,
attempted to leave the building by the grand entrance, but I soon
became entangled among rivers of mud and mazes of shifting sand.
With difficulty I recovered my steps, and finding my way back to the
building was forced to content myself by an exit among the crowd of
Senators and Representatives who were thronging down the back
stairs.
Of dirt of all kinds it behoves Washington and those concerned in
Washington to make themselves free. It is the Augean stables
through which some American Hercules must turn a purifying river
before the American people can justly boast either of their capital
or of their government. As to the material mud, enough has been
said. The presence of the army perhaps caused it, and the excessive
quantity of rain which had fallen may also be taken as a fair plea.
But what excuse shall we find for that other dirt? It also had been
caused by the presence of the army, and by that long-continued down-
pouring of contracts which had fallen like Danae's golden shower
into the laps of those who understood how to avail themselves of
such heavenly waters. The leaders of the rebellion are hated in the
North. The names of Jefferson Davis, of Cobb, Toombs, and Floyd are
mentioned with execration by the very children. This has sprung
from a true and noble feeling; from a patriotic love of national
greatness and a hatred of those who, for small party purposes, have
been willing to lessen the name of the United States. I have
reverenced the feeling even when I have not shared it. But, in
addition to this, the names of those also should be execrated who
have robbed their country when pretending to serve it; who have
taken its wages in the days of its great struggle, and at the same
time have filched from its coffers; who have undertaken the task of
steering the ship through the storm in order that their hands might
be deep in the meal-tub and the bread-basket, and that they might
stuff their own sacks with the ship's provisions.
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