After a day spent in our room, conversing with the Judge, or watching the passers-by in the street,—I should like to tell who they were and how they looked, but such information is just now contraband,—we called again, at nine o'clock, at the State Department.
Mr. Benjamin occupied his previous seat at the table, and at his right sat a spare, thin-featured man, with iron-gray hair and beard, and a clear, gray eye full of life and vigor. He had a broad, massive forehead, and a mouth and chin denoting great energy and strength of will. His face was emaciated, and much wrinkled, but his features were good, especially his eyes,—though one of them bore a scar, apparently made by some sharp instrument. He wore a suit of grayish-brown, evidently of foreign manufacture, and, as he rose, I saw that he was about five feet ten inches high, with a slight stoop in the shoulders. His manners were simple, easy, and quite fascinating: and he threw an indescribable charm into his voice, as he extended his hand, and said to us,—
"I am glad to see you, Gentlemen. You are very welcome to Richmond."
And this was the man who was President of the United States under Franklin Pierce, and who is now the heart, soul, and brains of the Southern Confederacy!
His manner put me entirely at my ease,—the Colonel would be at his, if he stood before Cæsar,—and I replied,—
"We thank you, Mr. Davis. It is not often you meet men of our clothes, and our principles, in Richmond."
"Not often,—not so often as I could wish; and I trust your coming may lead to a more frequent and a more friendly intercourse between the North and the South."
"We sincerely hope it may."
"Mr. Benjamin tells me you have asked to see me, to"——
And he paused, as if desiring we should finish the sentence. The Colonel replied,—