University of Virginia Library

LETTER VII.

To Mr. Thompson:—Dear Sir—I left off my last
letter whar I went to my hotel. Well, after tea I red
the papers a little while, and then went out and tuck a
walk by moonlight to see the city. I straggled round
all over the place without payin much attention whar I
went, lookin at the public bildins and fine-dressed ladies
and gentlemen what was in the streets, til the fust thing
I know'd I found myself at the gate in frunt of the
Capitol. Thar it was agin with its stupendous white
walls, and its monstrous high, dark dome, standin in
the bright moonlight, loomin up agin the heavens, vast,
majestic, and sublime, like the stone mountain in DeKalb
county. It didn't seem possible sich a everlastin pile
could be bilt with hands; and I could almost imagine
it was sum inchanted castle, and that the goblins and
fairys was caperin and dancin in the rotunda at that
very minit.

I tuck a seat on the stone steps and looked up at it
as it stood out agin the blue, star-bespangled sky.
Thinks I, this is the hed of the nation, the place whar
Uncle Sam does his thinkin; and with that I got to
ruminatin 'bout the falibility of national wisdom as well
as individual judgment. Public men, thinks I, is like
idees: sumtimes they's good, and sumtimes they's
monstrous bad—and when they git into the Capitol at
Washington, they're jest like thoughts in a man's hed,
and make the nation do a monstrous silly thing or a very
sensible thing, jest as they happen to be wise or foolish.
If ther's any truth in the science of frenology, it must
effect the Capitol in the same way it does a man's skull,
and I don't doubt that a rite scientific Yankee professor

could discover the bumps by feelin the walls of the
bildin, and could tell what organ was developed the
most. Lately the organ of secretiveness has been pretty
strongly developed, and sense we've pocketed Texas,
ther ain't no tellin whar we'll stop. Combattiveness,
too—which is very prominent, if you notice the projections
on the north and south side of the dome—is very
active; and I wouldn't be much surprised if we was to
lick sum nation like blazes before long. If it wasn't
for the excess of veneration which is indicated by the
fullness of the dome on the top, we'd been monstrous
apt to pitch'd into John Bull before now. Too much
veneration is a very bad fault, but maybe it's all the
better whar ther's so much combattiveness. I ain't
much of a frenologist myself, or I'd go on and give you
a full description of Uncle Sam's knowledge-box. I
think ther ought to be a scientific committee appinted
evry session to make out a complete chart of its bumps,
so the people might know what to depend on.

I couldn't leave the Capitol 'thout gwine round and
takin one more look at the Ingin gall on the East
Portico. Like all butiful wimen, she looked handsumer
in the soft, pale moonlight, than she did in the daytime.
The outlines and shadows was not so hard; ther was
sum hing dreamy and indistinct about her form, and
the 'magination was allowed a freer scope in givin the
finishin touches to the picter. You know all that is
necessary to create in the mind a image of buty, is the
mere idee of a woman, with a object for the 'magination
to work on. Ther are certain times when a man's
'magination will make a angel out of a bed-post.
Well, as I gazed at her, she seemed to becum livin
flesh and blood; and, as she looked at Columbus,
stoopin over, with her hands raised in a attitude of
wunder, I almost fancied I could hear her say—“Christofer!
why don't you speak to me?” I tuck a long,
long look at her, and then went to the hotel to dream
of Mary.

In the mornin, as soon as I got my breckfust, I went
to see the Nashunal Institute, whar they told me the
government kep all its curiosities. Since as they hadn't
the politeness to tell me to cum in when I nocked at the
dore of the Capitol yesterday, I tuck it for granted the
government was too democratic republican to stand on
ceremony; so I didn't nock this time, but jest walked
rite in. Well, when I got up stairs, the fust room I got
into was the patent-office, whar, the Lord knows, I seed
more Yankee contraptions of one kind and another,
than ever I thought ther was in the known world.
Ther was more'n five hundred thousand models, all
piled up in great big glass cages, with ther names writ
on 'em, rangin from steam saw-mills down to mousetraps.
Ther was ingines, wind-mills, and water-wheels;
steam-botes, ships, bridges, cotton-gins, and thrashin-machines;
printin-presses, spinnin-ginnies, weavinlooms,
and shingle-splinters—all on a small scale. But
it would take a whole letter to give you the names of
one half of 'em. I didn't understand much about 'em,
and so I went into another room whar they had a everlastin
lot of shells, and stones, and ores, and fish, and
birds, and varmints, and images, and so forth, what
was brung home from the North pole, by the explorin
expedition. I spose, to sum people, what can find
“sermons in stones and good in any thing,” these
things, what cost the government so much to git 'em,
would be very interestin; but I hain't got quite fur
enuff in the ologies for that yet—so I went into another
apartment, whar they keep the relics of the revolution
and other curiosities. This is the most interestin part
of the show, and contains a heap of things that must
always be objects of the deepest interest to Americans.
'Mong the rest is Gen. Washington's military cote; the
same cote that has been gazed on by so many millions
of adorin eyes, when it enveloped the form of the great
father of his country. It made me have very strange
feelins to look upon General Washington's clothes—it

caused in my mind the most familiar impression of that
great man I had ever felt, and which no paintin or statue
could ever give. I was lookin upon what had been a
portion of the real, livin Washington; and I almost felt
as if I was in his presence. Close by hung the sword,
and below was the camp-chest what he used in the war
of the Revolution. What a sight! to behold in one
glance the garment that sheltered his sacred person, the
provision-chest, cracked and shattered in the great conflict,
and the sword with which he won for us the blessings
of liberty, which we enjoy. How many thousands,
in centuries to come, will look upon the remains
of these sacred relics, and bless the memory of the
great and good man.

Not far from Washington's cote, in a case by itself,
is the cote what General Jackson wore at the battle of
New Orleans. I stopped and looked at it with feelins
of sincere veneration. Few would suppose the victory
of New Orleans was won in sich a coarse cote—but it is
like the lion-harted hero who wore it—corse, strong,
and honest, without tinsel or false gloss. It looks like
the General, and will be preserved as a priceless relic
of the brave old patriot, whose days are now drawin to
a close. I never voted for General Jackson, cause I
thought his politics was wrong; but I always believed
him to be a honest man, and a true patriot, and I don't
blieve ther's a lokyfoky in the land that's prouder of his
fame, or will hear of his deth with more unfeigned
sadness.

Ther's a heap of other curiosities in this part of the
bildin, that is well worth the attention of the visiter.
Among the rest is Gen. Washington's Commisshun, and
the original Declaration of Independence, besides treaties
in all sorts of outlandish languages, and guns and
pistols and swords, all covered with gold and diamonds,
that have been made presents to our government from
foreign powers. Ther's a heap of Ingin picters, and
among 'em some portraits of the Seminole chiefs, what

fit us so hard a few years ago. I seed old Alligator
settin up thar, as dignified as a turky-cock in a barn-yard,
and I couldn't help but think of the time I seed
the old feller fall off a log into the St. Johns with all
his fancy rigins on, and a jug of rum in his hand.
Ther's sum very good likenesses among the Ingin portraits,
but they've got sum of the triflinest fellers in the
whole nation settin up thar as grand as Mogulls.

After lookin at the other picters, and busts, and
statues, (and ther's sum butiful things among 'em,) I
went down into the lower story, and thar I saw the grate
Sarcofagus what Com. Elliott brung over from Egypt
to bury Gen. Jackson in. I don't blame the old General
for backin out from any sich arrangement. In the fust
place, I don't think it in very good taste for to be in too
big a hurry to provide a coffin for a man before he's
ded; and in the next place, I've got no better opinion
of old second-hand coffins than I have of second-hand
boots. I'd a grate deal rather walk in the footsteps of
a dozen livin, illustrious predecessors, than to fill the
coffin of one ded King Fareo. No, indeed; the old
hero is too much of a proud-spirited republican for that
—he's not gwine to lay his bones in a place whar sum
bominable old heathen King has rotted away before, and
I glory in him for it. Such men as Jackson finds a
sarcofagus in every true patriot's heart, that will preserve
his memory, from generation to generation, to the
eend of time.

After gettin out of Uncle Sam's curiosity shop, I
went out into his flower garden, what is kep in a long,
low house, with a glass roof. It's got about five hundred
kinds of cactuses in it, and that's about all. True,
ther's a good many little bushes and weeds, with monstrous
hard names, and sum few with flowers on 'em,
but Mary's flower-garden at home would beat it all
holler for buty and variety.

I tuck a walk round by the Post-Office and up to the
War Department, and the President's house. The new

Post-Office, the National Institute, and the War Department
is most magnificent bildins, of grayish, coarse
stone; and if they don't paint 'em like they have the
Capitol and the President's house, they'll look ancient
enuff to suit the fancy of Mr. Dickens, or anybody else,
who never saw a new country before, and who think
none of the rest of the world ain't fit to live in, cause it
ain't as old and musty as London.

By the time I got down to Gadsby's I was pretty
tired; and after eatin a fust rate dinner, I got reddy to
go to Baltimore. I paid my bill, which was very little,
I thought, for sich comfortable livin, and got my trunks
all packed and reddy sum time before the cars started.

Bimeby long cum the omnibus and tuck my trunks;
but the depo was so close that I jest fit my way through
the hack drivers to the cars, without any serious accidents.
It was a very plesant afternoon, and ther was
ever so many ladys and gentlemen in the cars, gwine
to Baltimore, and among 'em sum of the most outlandish
specimens of human nater I ever met with. I
thought I'd seed whiskers and bustles before, but I find
the further north I git, the bigger they grow. After a
while the bell rung and away we went, the houses,
Capitol and all waltzin round behind us, til we was out
of sight of the city; and the posts of Professor Morse's
Telegraph, as they call it, gettin closer and closer together
the faster we went.

But now the scene is very different from what it is on
the Carolina, or even the Virginy rodes. The woods is
in little patches, and the fields is smaller, and the houses
and towns is thicker. The country is more uneven,
and evry mile changes the scenery, and gives one sumthing
new to look at. The track, too, is even as a die,
and the cars go like lightnin and as easy as a rockinchair.
One minit we was whirlin along between butiful
farms, in the next we darted into a cut whar the banks
shut out the view, and perhaps the next we was crossin
over sum butiful valley on a bridge, with mills, and

houses, and people far below us. We passed lots of
hoses and cattle, and sum of 'em would twist up ther
tails and giv us a race, but we went so fast that nothin
couldn't keep up with us but the wire lightnin conductors
of the telegraph, which kep us cumpany all the
way. It's only 'bout forty miles from Washington to
Baltimore, and I hadn't begun to git tired before the
monuments and steeples and towers of the city begun
to show themselves in the distance, gittin nearer and
nearer, til we was rite in among 'em.

When we got to the depo in the edge of the city,
they unhitched the lokymotive and hitched on sum
hoses that pulled us away down into the center of the
city to the railrode office. I could find enuff for twenty
pair of eyes to do, lookin at this butiful city. I hadn't
no idee it was half so large or half so handsum. But
I had no time to give it more'n a glimpse before we
was at the shoppin place, and in the middle of another
regiment of whips, all pullin and haulin, and axin me
to go this way and tother, til I didn't hardly know
which eend I stood on.

Bimeby one very civil little man with a piece of
painted lether on his hat ses to me, ses he—“Sir, giv
me yer checks for yer baggage, and I'll take ye to the
Exchange Hotel, a very good house, sir.” It was Hobson's
choice with me, for I didn't know one house from
tother, so I jest handed him over the tins, and he went
to look out for my baggage. While I was waitin for
him a reinforcement of hackmen got round me, and
insisted on takin me to the Exchange. Well, I was
like the gall what married the chap to git rid of him,
and I got into the fust hack and druv off. I wasn't
more'n seated, fore we was at the dore of a grate big
stone house, with a dome on the top of it like the
Capitol at Washington, what the feller sed was the
Exchange Hotel. After I got out I ax'd the driver
how much was to pay. “A quarter,” ses he. I pulled
out my purse and paid him, but if I'd know'd it was

no further, I'd seed him to Bullyhack fore I'd got into
his hack, that's certain.

Soon as I got in the hotel the man in the office laid a
big book out before me and gin me a pen. I know'd
what he ment, so I put my name down—Jos. Jones,
Pineville, Geo., as plain as a pike-staff. I hadn't
more'n finished writin my name before here cum the
man with my trunks, and in a minit after I found myself
up stairs in No. 27, whar I am now writin to you,
and whar I expect to remain for a day or two. I mean
to go to bed early to-night, and take a fresh start in the
mornin to look at Baltimore. So no more from