Xxvi.
The 25th of April, Burnside's command marched through Washington, on the way from Annapolis, to reinforce the army of the Potomac. The President reviewed the troops from the top of the eastern portico at Willard's Hotel, standing with uncovered head while the entire thirty thousand men filed through Fourteenth Street. Of course the passage of so large a body of troops through the city — presaging as it did the opening of the campaign — drew [82] out a numerous concourse of spectators, and the coming movement was everywhere the absorbing topic of conversation. Early in the evening, Governor Curtin, of Pennsylvania, with a friend, came into the President's office. As he sat down he referred to the fine appearance of Burnside's men; saying, with much emphasis, “Mr. President, if there is in the world one man more than another worthy of profound respect, it is the volunteer citizen soldier.” To this Mr. Lincoln assented, in a quiet way,--the peculiar dreaminess of expression so remarkable at times, stealing over his face as his mind reverted to the thousands whose lives had been so freely offered upon the altar of their country, and the myriad homes represented by the thronging columns of the day's review, in so many of which there was henceforth to be weary watching and waiting for footsteps which would return no more.I took this opportunity to get at the truth concerning a newspaper story which went the rounds a year or two previous, purporting to be an account of a meeting of the loyal Governors in Washington, early in the war. It was stated that the President laid the condition of the country before such a council, convened at the White House, and anxiously awaited the result. An oppressive silence followed. Curtin was represented as having been standing, looking out of one of the windows, drumming unconsciously upon a pane of glass. [83] Mr. Lincoln, at length addressing him personally, said: “Andy, what is Pennsylvania going to do?” Turning around, Curtin replied: “She is going to send twenty thousand men to start with, and will double it, if necessary!” “This noble response” [quoted from memory] “overwhelmed the President, and lifted the dead weight which seemed to have paralyzed all present.”
I repeated this account substantially as here given; but both parties smiled and shook their heads. “It is a pity to spoil so good a story,” returned the President, “but, unfortunately, there is not a word of truth in it. I believe the only convocation of Governors that has taken place during the war,” he added, looking at Curtin, “was that at Altoona — was it not?”
Subsequently the two gentlemen proposed to visit my room, and Mr. Lincoln accompanied them. Sitting down under the chandelier on the edge of the long table, which ran the whole length of the apartment, swinging back and forth his long legs; passing his hand occasionally over his brow and through his rough hair (his appearance and manner come back to me most vividly, as I write), he listened abstractedly to my brief explanation of the design of the picture. When I ceased, he took up the record in his own way. “You see, Curtin,” said he, “I was brought to the conclusion that there was no dodging this negro question any longer. We had reached the point where it [84] seemed that we must avail ourselves of this element, or in all probability go under.” He then went over the circumstances attending the step, in much the same language he had used upon the occasion of my first interview with him. Governor Curtin remarked that the impression prevailed in some quarters that Secretary Seward opposed the policy. “That is not true,” replied Mr. Lincoln; “he advised postponement, at the first meeting, which seemed to me sound. It was Seward's persistence which resulted in the insertion of the word ‘maintain,’ which I feared under the circumstances was promising more than it was quite probable we could carry out.”
The bill empowering the Secretary of the Treasury to sell the surplus gold had recently passed, and Mr. Chase was then in New York, giving his attention personally to the experiment. Governor Curtin referred to this, saying, “I see by the quotations that Chase's movement has already knocked gold down several per cent.” This gave occasion for the strongest expression I ever heard fall from the lips of Mr. Lincoln. Knotting his face in the intensity of his feeling, he said, “Curtin, what do you think of those fellows in Wall Street, who are gambling in gold at such a time as this?” “They are a set of sharks,” returned Curtin. “For my part,” continued the President, bringing his clinched hand down upon the table, “I wish every one of them had his devilish head shot off!”
