waiting for
something to turn up. Not so with the dignified Major Sherman. He had
been to California, on field duty in the Mexican War. Now well groomed
and of fine bearing, he stood about the lobby interested in the
projected railroad. Douglas, Grant, Sherman,--all had a definite
relation to the Mexican War, and the new territory. Douglas seemed to be
taking renewed life from this interesting experience. I was his
companion all the time, loitering near as he talked to various
notables. I looked over this mass of humanity and thought of America as
a whole, and wondered what it would do with its rich possessions, and
its problems. Its fate seemed hopelessly entangled, in spite of the
material prosperity--perhaps because of it.

CHAPTER XLII

I felt now the truth of Webster's picturesque words that "the imprisoned
winds were let loose." We might have a transcontinental railroad, and
Douglas' Illinois Central might connect Chicago with the Gulf of Mexico.
All of this building might go forward successfully. But at the same time
the slavery question would not down. Even railroad building was a bone
of contention, for as to a line to California it had been debated
whether it should start from Chicago or from St. Louis. Hence it was
that every activity of Douglas had to reckon with the negro. There were
now great things to be done at Washington. And as Dorothy had enjoyed
herself so much during the winter that we had spent there, she was
urging me to return. I had my affairs now under better management, and
communication with Chicago was rather convenient; besides Dorothy was
not well. The loss of Jenny and the death of her mother had visibly
affected her health. I decided at last to spend the winter in
Washington.

The trip from Chicago to New York by boat and by train was as wearisome
as before. When we arrived in New York, Dorothy had to take to her bed
and rest for two days before proceeding to Washington.

We took a house again, keeping Mammy for intimate service and
supplementing her with two colored women who fitted in fairly well. Our
boy Reverdy was put in school.

I began to attend the sessions of the Senate, taking Dorothy when she
wished to go. Clay of Kentucky, after an absence of eight years, was
back; here were also Webster and Calhoun, the lions of an earlier day.
They were enacting their last parts, trying to re-imprison the winds of
destiny, which the events of the Mexican War had set to roaring