53. LETTER LIII.
MAJOR DOWNING, ON THE ROAD TO THE WAR, SITS DOWN BY THE ROADSIDE
AND WRITES TO THE EDITORS OF THE NATIONAL INTELLIGENCER
AN ACCOUNT OF HIS INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT POLK AND OLD MR.
RITCHIE, EDITOR OF THE GOVERNMENT ORGAN.
On the Road to the War, August —, 1847.
Mr. Gales & Seaton—
My Dear Old Friends:—I s'pose you'll be amazinly disapinted
to find I'm away off here, pushin' on to the seat of war,
and didn't call to see you when I come through Washington.
[ILLUSTRATION]ON THE ROAD TO THE WAR.
[Description: 688EAF. Page 261. In-line image. A man is sitting on a rock with his pack next to him. He holds a quill in his hand and is writing a letter.]
But you musn't blame me for it, for I couldn't help it; the
President wouldn't let me call; he said I was getting quite
too thick with you, writing letters to you and all that. And
when he spoke about the letters, he looked a kind of red and
showed considerable spunk. But now I am away off here
where the President won't see me, so I'll set right down by
the side of the road and write you a good long letter. The
President was a little touched at first, when I see him.
Says he, “Major Downing, I have put a good deal of confidence
in you as a friend of my Administration; and if you
are a friend to it, you must let Gales and Seaton alone; keep
out of their way, and have nothing to do with them; they are
dangerous, mischief-making fellers, eternally peckin' at my
Administration, all weathers. Let me try to keep things ever
so snug, and lay my plans ever so deep, they are sure to dig
them all up, lug them into the Intelligencer, and blaze 'em all
over the country. Confound their picturs, they are the most
troublesome customers an Administration ever had; they've
come pretty near swamping me two or three times. So, if
you are my friend, I warn you not to be so thick with Gales
and Seaton.”
“Well,” says I, “Colonel, you know I am a friend to you and
your Administration, as much as I ever was to the old Gineral
and his Administration; and I shall stand by you and do
everything I can to help you out of this scrape you've got into
about the war. But I don't know as that need to make me
break with Gales and Seaton. We've been old friends so
long, it would be kind of hard for me to give 'em up now;
and I don't hardly think they are quite so bad as you think
for. They may not mean to do you so much hurt when they
put these things into their paper, and only put them in because
they think folks want to know what's goin' on. Mr.
Ritchie sometimes puts things into his paper that folks think
don't do you no good.”
The President give two or three hard chaws upon his cud
of tobacco, and says he: “Yes, Major, that's too true, it must
be confessed; and it annoys me beyond all patience. But
then I have to forgive it, and overlook it, because Mr. Ritchie
don't mean it. The old gentleman is always sorry for it, and
always willing to take it back. And then he's such a tuff old
feller to fight the Federalists, I can't have a heart to scold at
him much about his mistakes and blunders.”
“Well,” says I, “Colonel, being you've named Federalists,
I want to know if any of them animals is really supposed to
be alive anywhere in the country, now-a-days. Seeing sich
awful accounts about 'em in the Union paper all the time, I inquired
all the way along through New England, where they
used to be the thickest, and I couldn't get track of one; and
when I asked the folks if there was any Federalists anywhere
in them quarters, they all stared at me, and said they didn't
know what sort of critters they was. When I got to Downingville,
I asked Uncle Joshua about it. He said, in his younger
days there used to be considerable many of 'em about, but
they wasn't thought to be dangerous, for they never was much
given to fighting. But he said he guessed they'd all died out
long ago, for he hadn't come across one these twenty years.
So now, Colonel,” says I, “how is it they are so thick in Mr.
Ritchie's paper all the time?”
At that he give me a very knowing kind of a look, and
lowered his voice down almost to a whisper; and says he,
“Major, I'll tell you how that is. When Mr. Ritchie was a
young man, he used to fight a good deal with the Federalists,
and took a good deal of pride in it; and now the fancies and
scenes of his youth all seem to come back fresh to his mind,
and he can't think or talk about anything else. You know
that's oftentimes the way with old people. As he always used
to have the name of a smart fighter, I give him the command
of the newspaper battery here to defend my Administration.
But 'twas as great a mistake as 'twas when I sent Taylor into
Mexico; I didn't know my man. No matter what forces was
gathering to overthrow my Administration, Mr. Ritchie somehow
didn't seem to see 'em; no matter how hard they fired at
me, he didn't seem to hear it; and when I called to him to
fire back, he would rouse up and touch off a few squibs with
about as good aim as the boys take when they fire crackers
on the 4th of July, and did about as much execution. At last
I found out a way that I could make the old veteran fight like
a Turk, and hold on like a bull-dog. It was by giving him a
notion at any time that he was fighting with Federalists.
Since I made that discovery, he's been more help to me.
Whenever I see the enemy intrenching himself around me,
and bringing up his batteries to fire into my Administration,
all I have to do is to whisper in Mr. Ritchie's ear and say,
`Mr. Ritchie, the air smells of Federalism; you may depend
upon it there is Federalists abroad somewhere.' In a minute,
you've no idea with what fury the old gentleman flies round,
and mounts his heaviest guns, and sets his paper battery in a
roar. His shots fly right and left, and sometimes knock down
friends as well as foes. To be sure, they don't make a very
great impression upon the enemy; but then there's this advantage
in it: if he don't kill or beat off the enemy, he keeps
the Administration so perfectly covered up with smoke that
the enemy can't see half the time where to fire at us. On
the whole, Mr. Ritchie is a valuable man to my Administration,
notwithstanding all his mistakes and blunders.”
Jest then the door opened, and who should come in but Mr.
Ritchie himself. As he opened the door he ketched the sound
of the two last words the President was saying.
“Mistakes and blunders!” says Mr. Ritchie; says he,
“What, have you got something more of Scott and Taylor's
blundering in Mexico?”
“Nothing more, to-day,” says the President; “I was only
telling Major Downing how their blunders there have come
pretty near ruining the country, and how it is absolutely necessary
to get the staff out of their hands, somehow or other,
before they quite finish the job. I'm going, now, to try one
more plan, Mr. Ritchie; but be careful that you don't say
anything about it in the Union and blow it all up. I tried
[ILLUSTRATION]THE MAJOR, THE PRESIDENT AND MR.RITCHIE
[Description: 688EAF. Page 265. Three men are having a conversation. One stands and leans forwards while he talks to two others who are seated. Stars decorate the floor.]
once to send Colonel Benton on for the same purpose, and
Congress blowed that up. Then I sent Trist on for the same
purpose, and Scott has blown him up. Now, I'm agoing to send
Major Downing, not as a regular open ambassador, but as a
sort of watch upon them, you know, to work round and do the
business up before anybody knows it. He isn't to go to Scott
nor Taylor, nor have anything to do with 'em, but work his
way into Mexico, and go right to Santa Anna and knock up a
bargain with him. I don't care what he gives. The fact is, Mr.
Ritchie, the country needs peace, and I'll have peace, cost
what it will.”
“An excellent idea,” says Mr. Ritchie; “an excellent plan,
sir. I'm for peace at all hazards, if it is to be found anywhere
in Mexico—that is, if we can get hold of it before Scott or
Taylor does. And I think Major Downing is just the man for
it—a true, stanch Democratic Republikan; and whatever he
does will go for the benefit of the Administration. Now the
country's shins are aching pretty bad with the war, if we
can fix up a good smooth peace right off, and not let Scott nor
Taylor have any hand in it, who knows, Mr. President, but it
might make our Administration so popular that you and I
might both be elected to serve another four years? But
when is the Major to start?”
“Right off, to-night,” says the President, “or rather, in the
morning, before daylight—before anybody in Washington
finds out that he has got back from Downingville. I have
forbid his calling at the Intelligencer office, and I don't want
they should find out or mistrust that he's been here. If they
should get wind of the movement, they would be sure to throw
some constitutional difficulty in the way, and try to make a
bad botch of the business.”
The President shet me into his room and charged me not to
leave the house, while he sent for Mr. Buchanan and Mr.
Marcy to fix up my private instructions. While he was gone
Mr. Ritchie fixed me up a nice little bundle of private instructions,
too, on his own hook, moddled, he said, on the Virginia
Resolutions of '98. Presently the President came back with
my budget all ready, and give me my instructions, and filled
my pockets with rations, and told me how to draw whenever
I wanted money; and before daylight I was off a good piece
on the road to the war.
To-day I met a man going on to carry letters to the Government
from Gineral Scott's side of the war, and I made him
stop a little while to take this letter to you; for I was afraid
you might begin to think I was dead. He says Scott is quite
wrathy about the Trist business, and wants to push right on
and take the city of Mexico, but Mr. Trist is disposed to wait
and see if he can't make a bargain with Santa Anna's men.
I shall push along as fast as I can, and get into the city of
Mexico, if possible, before Scott does; and if I only once get
hold of Santa Anna, I have no doubt I shall make a trade.
I don't know yet whether I shall take Scott's road or Taylor's
road to go to the city of Mexico; it will depend a little
upon the news I get on the way. Two or three times, when I
have been stopping to rest, I have been looking over my private
instructions. They are fust rate, especially Mr. Ritchie's.
I remain your old friend, and the President's private Embasseder,
