John G. Nicolay, The Outbreak of Rebellion

[98] shook the faith of many a political veteran. The secession harangues of conspicuous fire-eaters were openly applauded from the House and Senate galleries. As the social lights faded one by one from the Congressional corridors and the promenades of Lafayette Park and Pennsylvania Avenue, the social sympathies of Washington to a large extent followed them into the eclipse of their “foreign” confederacy. These too, notwithstanding their complaints and defiance, departed with an evident reluctance and regret into a country without a capital, and whose social and official circles were yet in embryo. A few were so unguarded as to distribute confidential nods and winks that they expected soon to return; while no doubt all nursed the longing hope that at no distant day they might reclaim and reenter the city as their proper and natural heritage. It was this almost universal Southern feeling which found expression in the prediction of the rebel Secretary of War, that the rebel flag would float over the dome of the capitol before the first of May.

There was, therefore, great doubt about the disposition and loyalty of the resident population; and the startling succession of disasters to the Union cause created a profound impression. Virginia's secession on the 17th; Harper's Ferry lost on the 18th; Baltimore in arms, and the North effectually cut off on the 19th; the Gosport Navy Yard sacrificed on the 20th--where would the tide of misfortune stop? Wavering Unionists found no great difficulty in forecasting the final success of rebellion; sanguine secessionists already in their visions saw the stars and stripes banished to the north of Mason and Dixon's line.

Whatever the doubt, there was no other present resource but to rely largely upon the good faith and order of Washington City. The whole matter had been under the almost