I saw the doctor in relation to my sore throat. He says it has very much improved. The only precaution I must take is not to expose myself to the night air. My general health is quite good, and is still growing even better. My foot gives me very little trouble. It has not been so strong for eight months as for the last ten days. I now am not obliged to make much use of the crutches. You may be sure I feel very much encouraged about my health, and I have no fears as to its being perfectly reëstablished. I eat well, sleep well, and am not worried by work. Remember me, my dear wife, to all the friends. Kiss the little Sue and Maude.
Your ever affectionate husband.
Washington, September 29, 1850.
My Dearest Wife,—You must not think I have forgotten you. I have been very much occupied the last few days. Our appropriations were in danger, and both Professor Bache and myself have been hard at work to save them. We have carried everything,—secured no less than one hundred and ninety thousand dollars for the Western coast.
A portion of this appropriation we carried in the House in the teeth of the Committee of Ways and Means. They opposed it vehemently, yet we went to work on Friday, worked hard all day, and carried it two to one nearly against them.
The professor is in one respect a most skillful manager, but his skill consists in his perfect directness, truthfulness, disinterestedness, and good temper. He is perfectly frank and open. Margaret, such men have most influence with all men of sense, whether members of Congress, or men in official station, or in private life. This is the secret of his getting along so well. You know I have always insisted that such a course was the most sure and reliable. You stand on the solid rock, and nothing can move you when you cast aside all intrigue and low cunning, and pursue an open, truthful, manly course. Cunning men cannot cope with you. This is my experience.
My duties in the office are becoming more and more pleasant. The office is becoming systematized, the back work is all coming up, and in the spring I have no doubt everything will be in the best possible condition.
Every department is improving, and a very fine spirit pervades all the employees. I am bringing to bear upon the men my personal weight, and you know I rarely ever fail whenever I am brought into direct personal contact with men. All the men are beginning to know me. They know I am firm and steadfast, but that I am as true to them as I am to the work itself. Every man will find that he can have entire confidence in my justice, and in my judgment of his merits. I am determined to be deserving of their confidence, and, if so, I shall most assuredly gain it.
The professor’s confidence in me seems to be greater every day. This makes my position pleasant. It makes me more efficient. My judgment is all the clearer for it. The truth is, I take the same general view of things that he does, and my judgment almost invariably brings me to the same conclusions. Thus, in operating to secure our appropriations, we agreed perfectly in the mode of proceeding. Indeed, the professor left the management entirely to me in the first instance. When things were prepared for him, I sent an express to his camp to bring him in. All my arrangements entered admirably into his plans. This was pleasant. My part was, of course, a subordinate one, but it was in harmony with all that was done.
In the latter part of 1849 appeared the “History of the Mexican War,” by Major Roswell S. Ripley, of the 1st artillery, who had served in Scott’s campaign, and who had been given a year’s leave of absence to enable him to write the work. The history is fairly well written, and accurate for the most part, but marred by the constant effort to depreciate the character and services of General Scott, and to extol Generals Worth and Pillow at his expense. The former of these officers, a fine soldier, and deservedly of high standing in the army and before the people, needed no encomiums; the latter was unworthy of them. Some of Ripley’s statements, too, were deemed erroneous by many of the ablest officers who participated in the contest, and there was a strong sentiment among them that these errors ought to be exposed, and the truth vindicated before the public. None felt this sentiment more strongly than Major Stevens. An admirer of Scott’s military talents, and a member of his staff during the famous campaign, his sense of justice and truth outraged by the attempt to disparage the general’s great services, and to heap unearned honors upon Pillow, he deemed it his duty, even in the midst of his arduous labors at the Coast Survey, to give to the world a tame and just account of these events, thus defending his former chief, and vindicating the truth of history.