“On arriving at Washington I went immediately to Mrs. Janney’s. There I heard of you. They all spoke very highly of you, particularly Mr. Robbins, who was very much interested in you. I dined at Colonel Totten’s on Wednesday, and Mrs. T. told me all about your being here. They all paid you some very fine compliments. Mrs. T. said she gained more information from Mr. Stevens than from all the other officers who had come from Mexico, your manner of speaking of men and things was so frank and just. Miss Kate said she was delighted with Mr. Stevens; he was correct and reliable in all he said. The colonel seemed glad to see me, and proud of the reputation of his corps. The result of all this, I hope, will be that he will give us two brevets, make you a major in charge of a work, and send me as your assistant.... It made me right jealous to hear the flatteries that the ladies at Mrs. Burr’s bestowed on the ‘gallant Mr. Stevens.’”
It was a joyful reunion when he reached Newport, and enfolded his dearly loved wife and little ones in his arms. A fortnight later he visited Andover, and one may imagine how his father, brother Oliver, and cousins and fellow townsmen received the soldier, returned on crutches, with open arms, and lionized him to the full. The country had been at peace for thirty years, and the returning soldiers from Mexico, especially the wounded officers, were received with mingled feelings of awe and admiration. Writes a brother officer, “The boys look at me around the corner, remarking, ‘I see him.’ ‘There he goes.’ ‘The man that’s been to Mexico.’”
Newport, R.I., February 28, 1848.
My dear Father,—We reached Newport about half past eight o’clock in the evening the same day we left Andover. I am now in my office, and am devoting some six hours each day to official matters. My wound is improving; I go about the house with a cane simply, and through the streets with one crutch and a cane. In one month, or at least in two months, I hope to be able to dismiss my crutches entirely.
I hope in all sincerity that our difficulties with Mexico are in the way of a permanent adjustment. The general opinion is that the Senate will ratify the treaty. The only difficulty (and one which in my opinion is much to be apprehended) is that Mexico, in consequence of a pronunciamiento, may disavow her own act. I trust, however, that such will not be the case, though I think it incumbent upon our government to continue to raise and push out troops till the thing is settled. Should there be want of faith on the part of the Mexicans, we should be in condition to punish it with most exemplary severity. Let our war measures be all pushed through without delay, and let there be the greatest activity in raising troops. This course of procedure, whilst ratifying the treaty, will make the treaty an effective thing.
Remember me to friends. Margaret wishes to be affectionately remembered to you. Hazard has not forgotten your stories of King George and the Redcoats.
At this time he was being considered for the colonelcy of one of the new regiments, which, if the war continued, would have to be raised. A prominent member of Congress from Maine, Hezekiah Williams, writes him, “I think our delegation would unite in recommending you. It certainly would give me pleasure to aid in obtaining your appointment.” Mr. Stevens writes Oliver:—
“My policy is to get elected to the command of a volunteer regiment, and get a leave of absence, so as to hold on to my present commission. I should like to command a Massachusetts regiment and put it through some good service in Mexico, should we be obliged to resort to the alternative of renewing the contest.”
An incident occurred one day, when a light rifle that Mr. Stevens had taken to Mexico, but had never used in action there, stood in good stead. A mad dog ran amuck down Broad Street, frothing at the mouth and snapping at all he met. The people on all sides rushed into the shops and houses for refuge, with loud outcries of alarm and warning. Mr. Stevens, apprised of the danger, seized the light rifle, hobbled out on his crutches to the sidewalk, followed up the maddened beast, which had now dashed into the hall of a neighboring house, and shot him through the head, killing him on the spot.
He might now reasonably expect a little rest until he could recover from his severe wound and injury. He writes Oliver, March 15:—