in Washington. The boarding-houses were filling with dark - visaged men who lounged in the saloons and swaggered along the streets, who jostled Northern men into the gutter.

"That Black Republican Abolitionist never will be President," the common remark uttered with oaths.

1861.

Few Northern men at the capital doubted that there was a plan to seize the Government. It was known that General Scott Feb. 8, was loyal. What would he do to put down a conspiracy? Mr. L. E. Chittenden, a member of the Peace Congress, called upon him at his headquarters in Winder's Building. He was lying on a sofa.

"A Chittenden of Vermont! Why, that was a good name when Ethan Allen took Ticonderoga! Well, Vermont must be as true to-day

as she always has been. What can the commander of the army do for Vermont ?"

"Very little at present. I called to pay my personal respects. In common with many other loyal men, I am anxious about the count of the electoral vote on next Wednesday. Many fear that the vote will not be counted or the result declared."

"Pray, tell me why it will not be counted? There have been threats, but I have heard nothing of them recently. I supposed I had suppressed that infamy. Has it been resuscitated? I have said that any man who attempted by force or parliamentary disorder to obstruct or interfere with the lawful count of the electoral vote for President and Vice-president of the United States should be lashed to the muzzle of a 12-pounder and fired out of a window of the Capitol. I would manure the hills of Arlington with fragments of his body were he a Senator or chief magistrate of my native State! It is my duty to suppress insurrection-my duty!" (")

The ruffianly-looking men who had frequented the bar-rooms when they reached the Capitol on the morning of February 13th found they

1861.

could not gain admittance to the building without a ticket. SolFeb 13, diers of the United States in their blue uniforms guarded every entrance. The tickets were signed either by the Vice-president, John C. Breckinridge, or by the Speaker of the House, and they had been issued so sparingly that the galleries of the representatives' chamber and the corridors were not crowded. The members of the Peace Conference in session at Willard's Hall were admitted by a vote of both Houses of Congress, but Senators and representatives could not admit their friends except by authority of the presiding officers. Ruffians might shake their fists at the soldiers and use vile language, but neither by bribe or threat could they enter the Capitol. No soldiers were to be seen except those that were guarding the doors. Within the Capitol were several hundred men, who entered as citizens, but who, upon a preconcerted signal, would be transformed into soldiers armed with rifles.

The hour for the Senate and House to meet in convention arrives, and the Senators enter the hall. Mr. Breckinridge occupies the chair as presiding officer. For four years he has been Vice-president of the United States, sworn to obey the laws. He has been loyal to the Constitution. He has too high a sense of obligation to countenance any plan for a seizure of the Government, or to obstruct the inauguration of Abraham Lincoln. His voice is clear and distinct: "It is my duty

to open the certificates of election in the presence of the two Houses, and I now proceed to the performance of that duty."

Another voice breaks in: "I rise to a point of order. Is the count to proceed under menace? Shall the count be made under menace? Shall members be required to perform constitutional duty before the janizaries of Scott are withdrawn from the hall?"

"The point of order is not sustained," the calm reply of Breckinridge as he hands the certificate of Maine to Senator Trumbull, who reads it. There is no other interruption. The last certificate is read,

and Abraham Lincoln and Hannibal Hamlin are declared to be elected President and Vice-president of the United States. The Senate retires.

The pent-up anger of the Secession members from the Slave States that had not seceded burst forth. "Hurrah for Jeff Davis !" "Scott is a traitor to his native State!" "He is a coward!" "An old dotard!" "What right had he to put his blue-coated janizaries in the Capitol?" Oaths and curses rent the air. Impotent the rage. Abraham Lincoln and Hannibal Hamlin had been legally declared elected, but would they be allowed to take their seats?

The plan to prevent the declaration of their election was abandoned several days before that event, and another far darker conspiracy was entered upon. Miss Dorothy Dix, of New York, who had been in the South, informed Samuel M. Felton, president of the railroad leading from Baltimore to Philadelphia, that the Southern conspirators had determined Mr. Lincoln should never reach Washington. He read in Southern newspapers the threatening words that he would not be allowed to take his seat. Mr. Felton knew there were many brutal men in Baltimore-ruffians who had no regard for anything except brute force. They went by the name of "Plug Uglies." They were Secessionists, and were determined to carry the State out of the Union. He knew they were ready to do any violent act to insure their success. He discovered that organizations were forming in the villages along the line of the railroad, and decided to investigate what was going on. "Will you come to Philadelphia?" the message to Mr. Pinkerton, a detective, who hastened to that city.

A few days later the men drilling at Perryville, Magnolia, and Havre de Grace received new recruits-rough-looking men-who announced themselves as Secessionists. (')

Among the guests at Barnum's Hotel in Baltimore was one who signed his name "Joseph Howard, Montgomery, Alabama." Timothy Webster, from Richmond, arrived at another hotel, not quite so aristocratic as Barnum's. Mr. Howard was very much of a gentleman-so polite, well-educated, and handsome that the ladies in the parlor were charmed with him. In the smoking-room he was very courteous, and the cigars which he presented to the young gentlemen who spent their evenings at Barnum's were delicately flavored. Mr. Howard listened to what they had to say about secession, and the intimations that Lincoln might not get to Washington. He made the acquaintance of Mr. Kane, marshal of the Baltimore police, member of a secret society. They gained entrance to a chamber by signs and passwords. Captain

Ferrandini, president of the society, declared that the election of Lincoln was an insult to the gentlemen of the South.

"This hireling, Lincoln," he shouted, "shall never be President. My life is of no consequence. I am ready to die for the rights of the South, and to crush out the Abolitionists."

He flourished a dirk to let the members of the society understand that he was ready to use it.

Mr. Howard from Montgomery, with a friend from Georgia, met Captain Ferrandini in Mr. Guy's restaurant. The captain was pleased to meet the gentleman from Georgia, who, as Mr. Howard assured him, was "all right."

"Are there no other means?" somebody asked.

"No; as well might you attempt to move that monument yonder with your breath as to change our purpose. He must die; and die he shall," said Captain Ferrandini.

"There seems to be no other way," Mr. Howard remarked.

"The cause is noble; and on that day every one of us will prove himself a hero. With the first shot he will die, and Maryland will be with the South," the captain added.

“But have all the plans been matured, and are there no fears of failure? A misstep would be fatal to the South, and everything ought to be well considered," said the gentleman from Georgia.

"Our plans are fully matured, and they cannot fail. If I alone must strike the blow, I shall not hesitate or shrink from the task. Lincoln will not leave this city alive. Neither he nor any other Abolitionist shall ever set foot on Southern soil, except to find a grave," said Captain Trichat.

"But about the authorities; is there no danger to be apprehended from them?" asked the gentleman from Georgia.

"Oh no. They are all with us. I have seen the chief of police, and he is all right. In a week from to-day the North will want another President, for Lincoln will be a corpse," the reply.

Mr. Howard became quite intimate with Lieutenant Hill. They walked the streets arm in arm, drank each the other's health, talked over the plans in their own rooms.

"I shall immortalize myself by plunging a knife into Lincoln's heart," said the Lieutenant. (1)

Timothy Webster, of Richmond, Va., joined the military company at Perryville. The chamber in which the members met was hung with quilts, that no listening ears in adjoining rooms might hear what was said.