Four Years in Rebel Capitals | Page 7

a second its
gold spoon; and, perhaps, a trifle of the turtle spills before reaching its
mouth. Madame rearranges her parure and smoothes her ruffled lace;
while Mademoiselle pouts a little, then studies her card for the next
waltzer. Senator Jenks takes his "nip" just a trifle more regularly; and
Blobb, of Oregon, draws a longer breath before his next period. As for
the lobby-pump, its piston grows red-hot and its valves fly wide open,
with the work it does; while thicker and more foul are the streams it
sends abroad.

For awhile there is some little talk around Willard's about the "secesh;"
and the old soldiers wear grave faces as they pass to and fro between
the War Department and General Scott's headquarters. But to the outer
circle, it is only a nine-day wonder; while the dancing and dining army
men soon make light of the matter.
But the stone the surface closes smoothly over at the center makes large
ripples at the edges. Faces that were long before now begin to lengthen;
and thoughtful men wag solemn heads as they pass, or pause to take
each other by the buttonhole. More frequent knots discuss the status in
hotel lobbies and even in the passages of the departments; careful
non-partisans keep their lips tightly closed, and hot talk, pro or con,
begins to grow more popular.
One day I find, per card, that the Patagonian Ambassador dines me at
seven. As it is not a state dinner I go, to find it even more stupid. At
dessert the reserve wears off and all soon get deep in the "Star of the
West" episode.
"Looks mighty bad now, sir. Something must be done, sir, and soon,
too," says Diggs, a hard-working M.C. from the North-west. "But, as
yet, I don't see--what, exactly!"
"Will your government use force to supply Fort Sumter?" asks Count
B., of the Sardinian legation.
"If so, it might surely drive out those states so doubtful now, that they
may not go to extremes," suggested the Prussian chargé ad interim.
"Why, they'll be whipped back by the army and navy within ninety
days from date," remarks a gentleman connected with pension
brokerage.
"If part of the army and navy does not go to get whipped with them,"
growls an old major of the famed Aztec Club. And the scar across the
nose, that he brought away from the Belen Gate, grows very
uncomfortably purple.

"By Jove! I weally believes he means it! Weally!" whispers very young
Savile Rowe, of H.B.M. legation. "Let's get wid of these politics. Dwop
in at Knower's; soiwee, you know;" and Savile tucks his arm under
mine.
Two blocks away we try to lose uncomfortable ideas in an atmosphere
of spermaceti, hot broadcloth, jockey club and terrapin.
"Next quadwille, Miss Wose?"
"Oh, yes, Mr. Rowe; and--the third galop--let me see--the fifth waltz.
And oh! isn't it nasty of those people in South Carolina! Why don't they
behave themselves? Oh, dear! what a lovely color Karmeen Sorser has
to-night! Au revoir!" and Miss Rose Ruche glides off, à deux temps, on
the arm of the Turkish chargé.
As I stroll through the rooms, there is much glaring light and there are
many nude necks. I am jostled by polking damsels and button-holed by
most approved bores. But, through the blare of the brass horns and over
the steaming terrapin, the one subject rises again and again, refusing
burial as persistently as Eugene Aram's old man.
"Try a glass of this punch," Knower chirps cheerily. "Devilish good
punch! Good glass, too. See the crest and the monogram blowed in. Put
Kansas Coal Contriver's Company proceeds into that glass. But things
are looking blue, sir, devilish blue; and I don't see the way out at all.
Fact is, I'm getting pretty down in the mouth!" And the lobbyist put a
bumper of punch in the same position. "People may talk, sir, but my
head's as long as the next, and I don't see the way out. Washington's
dead, sir; dead as a hammer, if this secession goes on. Why, what'll
become of our business if they move the Capital? Kill us, sir; kill us!
Lots of southern members leaving already"--and Knower's voice sunk
to a whisper--"and would you believe it? I heard of nine resignations
from the army to-day. Gad, sir! had it from the best authority. That
means business, I'm afraid." And little by little the conviction dawned
on all classes that it did mean business--ugly, real business. What had
been only mutterings a few weeks back grew into loud, defiant speech.
Southern men, in and out of Congress, banded under their leading

spirits, boldly and emphatically declared what they meant to do. Never
had excitement around the Capitol run half so high. Even the
Kansas-Nebraska furore had