Burlington, September 19, 1861.
Of course, you are so terribly oppressed with the great
affairs of the finance department of this Government as to be wholly unable to
write a letter to one of the outside barbarians in Iowa. I would not disturb
your labors or your repose, if I did not deem it important to glorify myself a little
over the result of the “circulation Treasury-notes” measures, about the success
of which those learned-financial pundits, Fessenden and Chase, expressed so
many doubts. You learn, of course, as I do, that at least one hundred thousand
dollars of them can be floated to the manifest advantage of the Government, and
to the immense advantage of this poor and benighted region. If that pure
patriot and model of a public officer, whom you feel called on to defend when
aspersed, would call some Pennsylvanians into the field, instead of keeping
them all at home to fill army contracts, and let some of the army contracts and
supplies be furnished here, business would once more assume a hopeful condition
in the West. But we ought not to complain. We ought to console ourselves with
the reflection that Pennsylvania furnishes one-third of all the officers to the
army, and of course this draw upon her resources must impair her ability to
furnish privates.
When it was reported that Fremont was suspended, cold chills
began to run up and down people's backs, they bit their lips, said nothing, but
refused to enlist. I know nothing of the merits of the controversy, but it
is as evident as the noonday sun that the people are all with Fremont,
and will uphold him “through thick and thin.” My wife says, and I regard her as
a sort of moral thermometer for my guidance, that the only real noble and true
thing done during this war has been his
proclamation. Everybody of every sect, party, sex, and color, approves it
in the Northwest, and it will not do for the Administration to causelessly
tamper with the man who had the sublime moral courage to issue it.
I wish you to understand that I do not intend by this letter
to impose upon you the labor of answering it. I had nothing to write about, but
I had not heard from you, and the spirit said, “write,” and I have written as
the spirit moved. If my wife knew that I was writing, she would send her love;
as it is, you must content yourself with mine.
SOURCE: William Salter, The Life of James W. Grimes,
p. 152-3
No comments:
Post a Comment