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.