this the governor had asked Secretary Cameron for 2000 rifled muskets from the national armory at Springfield, in the State. The secretary refused, and the governor managed to supply his regiment with the most improved arms[[136]] without aid from the national government. On the forenoon of the 17th, the Sixth Regiment started for Washington. Steamers were ready to take it to Annapolis; but the secretary of war, with astonishing ignorance of facts easily to be known, ordered it to come through Baltimore. Accordingly the regiment reached Baltimore on the 19th, the anniversary of the battle of Lexington. Seven companies were transported in horse-cars from the northern to the southern station without serious hindrance; but then the tracks of the street railway were torn up, and the remaining four companies had to leave the cars and march. A furious mob of "Plug Uglies" and Secessionists assailed them with paving-stones, brickbats, and pistol-shots. The mayor and the marshal of the police force performed fairly their official duty, but were far from quelling the riot. The troops, therefore, thrown on their own resources, justifiably fired upon their assailants. The result of the conflict was that 4 soldiers were killed and 36 were wounded, and of the rioters 12 were killed, and the number of wounded could not be ascertained. The troops reached Washington at five o'clock in the afternoon, the first armed rescuers
of the capital; their presence brought a comforting sense of relief, and they were quartered in the senate chamber itself.
What would be the effect of the proclamation, of the mustering of troops in the capital, and of the bloodshed at Baltimore upon the slave States which still remained in the Union, was a problem of immeasurable importance. The President, who had been obliged to take the responsibility of precipitating the crisis in these States, appreciated more accurately than any one else the magnitude of the stake involved in their allegiance. He watched them with the deepest anxiety, and brought the utmost care and tact of his nature to the task of influencing them. The geographical position of Maryland, separating the District of Columbia from the loyal North, made it of the first consequence. The situation there, precarious at best, seemed to be rendered actually hopeless by what had occurred. A tempest of uncontrollable rage whirled away the people and prostrated all Union feeling. Mayor Brown admits that "for some days it looked very much as if Baltimore had taken her stand decisively with the South;" and this was putting it mildly, when the Secessionist Marshal Kane was telegraphing: "Streets red with Maryland blood. Send express over the mountains of Maryland and Virginia for the riflemen to come without delay." Governor Hicks was opposed to secession, but he was shaken like a reed by this
violent blast. Later on this same April 19, Mayor Brown sent three gentlemen to President Lincoln, bearing a letter from himself, in which he said that it was "not possible for more soldiers to pass through Baltimore unless they fight their way at every step." That night he caused the northward railroad bridges to be burned and disabled; and soon afterward the telegraph wires were cut.
The President met the emergency with coolness and straightforward simplicity, abiding firmly by his main purpose, but conciliatory as to means. He wrote to the governor and the mayor: "For the future troops must be brought here, but I make no point of bringing them through Baltimore;" he would "march them around Baltimore," if, as he hoped, General Scott should find it feasible to do so. In fulfillment of this promise he ordered a detachment, which had arrived at a station near Baltimore, to go all the way back to Philadelphia and come around by water. He only demurred when the protests were extended to include the whole "sacred" soil of Maryland,—for it appeared that the presence of slavery accomplished the consecration of soil! His troops, he said, could neither fly over the State, nor burrow under it; therefore they must cross it, and the Marylanders must learn that "there was no piece of American soil too good to be pressed by the foot of a loyal soldier on his march to the defense of the capital of his country." For a while, however,
until conditions in Baltimore changed, Eastern regiments came by way of Annapolis, though with difficulty and delay. Yet, even upon this route, conflict was narrowly avoided.
Soon, however, these embarrassments came to an end, and the President's policy was vindicated by its fruits. It had been strictly his own; he alone ruled the occasion, and he did so in the face of severe pressure to do otherwise, some of which came even from members of his cabinet. Firmness, reasonableness, and patience brought things right; Lincoln spoke sensibly to the Marylanders, and gave them time to consider the situation. Such treatment started a reaction; Unionism revived and Unionists regained courage. Moreover, the sure pressure of material considerations was doing its work. Baltimore, as an isolated secession outpost, found, even in the short space of a week, that business was destroyed and that she was suffering every day financial loss. In a word, by the end of the month, "the tide had turned." Baltimore, if not quite a Union city, at least ceased to be secessionist. On May 9 Northern troops passed unmolested through it. On May 13 General Butler with a body of troops took possession of Federal Hill, which commands the harbor and city, and fortified it. If the Baltimore question was still open at that time, this settled it. Early in the same month the state legislature came together, Mr. Lincoln refusing to accept the suggestion of interfering with it. This body was by no means Unionist, for it "protested
against the war as unjust and unconstitutional, announced a determination to take no part in its prosecution, and expressed a desire for the immediate recognition of the Confederate States." Yet practically it put a veto on secession by voting that it was inexpedient to summon a convention; it called on all good citizens "to abstain from violent and unlawful interference with the troops." Thus early in May this brand, though badly scorched, was saved from the conflagration; and its saving was a piece of good fortune of which the importance cannot be exaggerated; for without Maryland Washington could hardly have been held, and with the national capital in the hands of the rebels European recognition probably could not have been prevented. These momentous perils were in the mind of the administration during those anxious days, and great indeed was the relief when the ultimate turn of affairs became assured. For a week officials in Washington were painfully taught what it would mean to have Baltimore a rebel city and Maryland a debatable territory and battle-ground. For a week Mr. Lincoln and his advisers lived almost in a state of siege; they were utterly cut off from communication with the North; they could get no news; they could not learn what was doing for their rescue, nor how serious were the obstructions in the way of such efforts; in place of correct information they heard only the most alarming rumors. In a word, they were governing a country to which they really had no access. The
tension of those days was awful; and it was with infinite comfort that they became certain that, whatever other strain might come, this one at least could not be repeated. Henceforth the loyalty of Maryland, so carefully nurtured, gradually grew in strength to the end. Many individuals long remained in their hearts disloyal, and thousands[[137]] joined the Confederate ranks; but they had to leave their State in order to get beneath a secessionist standard, for Maryland was distinctly and conclusively in the Union.