Mr. Blaine was re-elected to his accustomed place in the legislature of the state. The terrific war rages on. The demand for troops increases,—is indeed quadrupled,—and the state must be brought up to her quota by methods the wisest and best. And again and again the clarion voice of the speaker of the House rings over the state with no uncertain sound. Companies and regiments are formed, and these must be filled. The fires burning so brightly, must burn brighter. Intense love must be intensified. The news of terrible battles thrills over the state almost daily. The romance of war is over. Its gilt edge is gone. It is hard, desperate, bloody work. Their sons and brothers and fathers are falling by the score and hundred at the front. The bloody work has been done at Ball’s Bluff and Port Royal. Sons of Maine are in Libby Prison and at Belle Isle.
The hard, serious question is discussed in every home. It fills the dreams of yeomanry,—“Shall I go?” “Can I go?” All that is sacred in business and religion in home and country is the question. Men are lifted by appeals almost divine in eloquence, above any petty consideration, to the grave question of the nation’s life and destiny. Their names go down by scores and hundreds. Regiments and brigades seem born in a day. They come from all ranks and conditions,—from pulpit and press, from farm and shop, from bank and office, and store and halls of state,—and are transformed in an hour from citizens to soldiers, and march away to the front. Steamer and car swarm with them.
The music dies away down the river, and they are gone,—gone perhaps forever. Good-byes are cherished in heart of hearts, and kisses from mother, father, lover, friend, are carried away like cameos of thought, the sacred things of memory.
In the autumn we find Mr. Blaine in Washington, probably for the first time, but not in official relations to the government. He must have a nearer view of the great scenes being enacted. He must know the men who are wielding the nation’s power, and put his finger on the pulse of war, and gather material for the more intense activity his work at home assumes. He must see the great-hearted Lincoln, and shake his hand, and give him cheer.
Fessenden, Hamlin, and Morrill are there, for congress is in session in a city fortified, and its streets patrolled by soldiers. Andrew Johnson is the only senator present from eleven seceded states. Breckenridge, mortified by the vote of his state, and the rebuke and the castigation the dead Douglas had given him in the early spring, was present from Kentucky; and Lane and Pomeroy were in their seats from the new, free state of Kansas, as her first senators. And the two Union senators were there,—Messrs. Willy and Carlisle,—from the western portion of seceded Virginia. Only five free states had other than Republican senators. Bright, Breckenridge, and Polk were expelled.
Chase, and Cameron, and Seward had entered the cabinet, but an impressive array of talent remained in the senate, to be studied by our rising young statesman to best advantage. Charles Sumner and Henry Wilson were there from Massachusetts; Zachariah Chandler, and Bingham, of Michigan; Wilkinson of Minnesota; John P. Hale and Daniel Clark, of New Hampshire; Benjamin F. Wade and John Sherman, of Ohio; Wilmot and Cowan, of Pennsylvania; James R. Doolittle and Timothy O. Hone, of Wisconsin. Jacob Collamore, formerly in General Taylor’s cabinet, a ripe, scholarly man, was a senator from Vermont, and Simmons and Anthony, from Rhode Island.
On his first visit to the National Capital, Mr. Blaine could not fail to visit the House where he himself was destined to have a career so famous and honorable alike to himself, his state, and the nation. There was his friend, Anson P. Morrill, who had desired him to take the nomination to congress the present session, rather than himself, and Galusha A. Grow, from his native state, a member of the convention which has just nominated him for the presidency, and of the committee notifying of the same, was then in the chair to be reserved for him as speaker of that house. Thaddeus Stevens, fearless, able, of intrepid spirit and strong character, the best hater of slavery on the continent, hating even those who did not hate it, was the natural leader of the House, assuming his place by common consent. He attracted Mr. Blaine’s special attention.
John Hickman and Edward McPherson were with him from Pennsylvania; and from New York there were Reuben E. Fenton, experienced and strong in public affairs, Elbridge G. Spaulding, the financier, William A. Wheeler, since vice-president, secretary Seward’s friend and confidant, Theodore Pomeroy.
“The ablest and most brilliant man of the delegation,” says Mr. Blaine, “was Roscoe Conkling. He had been elected to the preceding congress when but twenty-nine years of age, and had exhibited a readiness and elegance in debate that placed him at once in the front rank. His command of language was remarkable. In affluent and exhuberant diction Mr. Conkling was never surpassed in either branch of congress, unless, perhaps, by Rufus Choate.”
Massachusetts had a strong delegation, headed by Henry L. Dawes, and with him were A. H. Rice, since governor of the state, Elliott, Alley, and William Appleton. Missouri sent Blair and Rollins, from the battle-field. Crittenden, who had been six times elected to the senate, in two cabinets, appointed to the supreme bench, was then in the house, seeking with Charles A. Wickliffe, to save Kentucky to the Union, against the treasonable conspiracies of Breckenridge. With Crittenden and Wickliffe strong for the Union, were Robert Mallory, James S. Jackson, and William H. Wadsworth, keeping up the almost even balance of power in their state. Gilman Marston was there from New Hampshire, soon to become conspicuous in the field. Justin S. Morrill from Vermont, Frederick A. Pike, and the brother of senator Fessenden from Maine, in company with Ex-Gov. Anson P. Morrill. Illinois, Ohio, and Indiana had strong men there also, as did Iowa and Minnesota.