March 7, 1861; The Charleston Mercury
WASHINGTON, March 4, 1861.
I have just returned from looking at the inaugural procession. From an upper window of BROWN’S Hotel I had a perfect view of the whole affair, from the Chief Marshall, with his Aids, at the head of the column, down to the ragamuffins, on foot, or in dilapidated wagons, at the tail. Truth compels me to say it was a poor show. LINCOLN sat in an open carriage, with BUCHANAN by his side, and PEARCE of Maryland, and some one else facing him. It was my first glimpse of the mighty Rail Splitter. Looking down upon him through a lorgnette, he did not seem as homely and vulgar as the prints and the press represent him. But all sides agree that he is a low flung, weak minded man. Even the Republicans laugh at him.
The most noticeable part of the procession was a large car, draped and festooned, and filled with little children, representing the thirty four States, and waving miniature flags. Only one company of Federal soldiers turned out–a troop of dragoons. The rest of the military consisted of volunteers, and among them CARRINGTON’S squad of hod carriers was conspicuous for the dingy, dirty hue of their uniforms, and the uneveness of their marching. The procession was a half or three quarters of a mile long, and was closed appropriately by a rickety Jersey wagon, filled with butchers, and drawn by a pair of spavined gray ponies. This concern, horses and all, was much adorned with flags, and I observed that one of them was torn, so that all the stars remained while some of the stripes were missing. Very few decorations were visible except on the hotels, and from the time the pageant, if it deserve that name, left WILLARD’S until the carriage containing LINCOLN was out of my sight, there was not a particle of enthusiasm, not a single hurrah, not a solitary cheer. This is ominous. More than that it is marvellous–considering the readiness of Washington people to takes sides with whatever party happens to be in power.
Happening this morning to be at WILLARD’S, I saw HORACE GREELEY when he came down, as I suppose, from his last interview with Old ABE. His broad-brimmed hat was set back on his head, his cravat twisted one side and above his collar, and his bosom exposed. As he slouched along in his ungainly rhinoceros way, a half drunken New Yorker stopped him, and told him he intended to him out yet. GREELEY was glad to get away. He seemed to think, from GREELEY’S expression, that he had been successful in the great CHASE vs. SEWARD game, which has been going on ever since LINCOLN arrived. Such, however, was not exactly the case; for until within the last hour or two LINCOLN was still undecided whether to hold on to CHASE or put SHERMAN in his place. His heart is with CHASE, but so great has been the pressure against him, especially by SEWARD’S allies in Virginia, that it is not unlikely he will in the end abandon him. But SHERMAN is no whit better. He is not an avowed Abolitionist, like CHASE, but his hatred of the South is even greater, and his views in respect to coercion are precisely the same.
I hear that the Commissioners from the Confederate States are here, and will demand an interview with LINCOLN tomorrow. Doubtful, inasmuch as their arrival, and even their approach to the city, has been kept a profound secret. Here they ought to be, and the demand for the forts made at the earliest possible moment. We have been trifling long enough.
No force bills have been passed, and nothing done, they say, which squints at coercion. But there is to be no declaration of war–only self defence.
The Pacific Railroad monstrosity is defunct for the time being. The next Congress will finish that enormous swindle to suit Republican tastes. Mr. CRITTENDEN made his farewell speech last night. It was Union, Union, Union to the very last. Kentucky must cling to the Union after every other State, North and South, has gone. Poor old gentleman!