This morning Doug. Wallack came rushing into the office,
looking for Seward with what he called important news. He said that the two
ships at the Navy Yard were the Pawnee and the Kingston. They brought marines
and naval stores from Norfolk, which place they left after carrying what
government property they could not remove. The Premier cursed quietly because
the Baltic had not come; told Wallach not to contradict the report that the
Baltic had come; said the treason of Hicks would not surprise him; that the Seventh could cut their way through three
thousand rioters; that Baltimore delenda est; and other things, — and strolled
back into the audience chamber.
At dinner we sat opposite old Gen. Spinner, who was fierce
and jubilant. No frenzied poet ever predicted the ruin of a hostile house with
more energy and fervor than he issued the rescript of destiny against
Baltimore. “We've got ’em,” he said. “It is our turn now. We keep steadily one week
ahead of them, as 8 says. We have burned their hospital and poor-house,
Harper's Ferry and the Norfolk Navy Yard. Now let them fight or starve.” He was
peculiarly disgusted with the impertinence of Delaware. “The contemptible
little neighborhood without population enough for a decent country village,
gets upon her hind legs and talks about armed neutrality. The only good use for
traitors is to hang them. They are worth more, dead than alive.” — Thus the old
liberty-loving Teuton raged.
A gaunt, tattered, uncombed and unshorn figure appeared at
the door and marched solemnly up to the table. He wore a rough, rusty overcoat,
a torn shirt, and suspenderless breeches. His thin hair stood
fretful-porcupine-quill-wise upon his crown. He sat down and gloomily charged
upon his dinner. A couple of young exquisites were eating and chatting opposite
him. They were guessing when the road would be open through Baltimore. “Thursday!”
growled the grim apparition; “or Baltimore will be laid in ashes.”
It was Jim Lane.
To-night there seems to be reliable news at the State
Department that the Seventh Regiment and the Massachusetts troops would start
from Annapolis to-night, and through the favoring moonlight march to the
Junction, where the Government has possession of the Road. The hostile
peasantry can harass them fearfully on the way, from fence-corners and
hill-sides, if they are ready and brave. . . .
A large and disappointed throng gathered at the Depot this
morning hoping to get deliverance. But the hope was futile. They seem doomed to
see the rising of the curtain. . . .
SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and
Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 21; Michael Burlingame, Inside
Lincoln's White House: The Complete Civil War Diary of John Hay, p. 8-9
