The capitol is decorated from dome to portico.
Victory!
Flags are everywhere.
The weather is fine.
The Treasury building has a huge bond picked out in lights. Cooke’s Bank has GLORY TO GOD spelled out in golden stars. Hotels, shops, restaurants are festive, I am told. Bands play “Dixie” and “Yankee Doodle,” Irish tunes, Foster’s songs. Fireworks and rockets explode over the Potomac. Cannon boom.
Horsemen, carriages, wagons, buggies, pedestrians...there isn’t a quiet corner in Washington!
This morning, General Grant shook my hand sadly, hardly a victory gesture. I did not try to penetrate his mood.
Tomorrow I am to speak to a crowd in front of the White House. I will try to envision a sane future. Rain is forecast. It will not matter, nothing is going to diminish the enthusiasm.
Robert is due here tomorrow.
Mary remains in her bedroom.