Southern armies found a commander whose surpassing courage and skill
inspired its soldiers long after all hope of success was gone. Cases
such as this gave the President more anxiety than all else. It seemed
impossible to know whom to trust. An officer might come to him in the
morning protesting devotion to the Union, and by night be gone to the
South. Mr. Lincoln used to say at this time that he felt like a man
letting rooms at one end of his house while the other end was on fire.

The situation grew steadily worse. Maryland refused to allow United
States soldiers to cross her territory, and the first attempt to bring
troops through Baltimore from the North ended in a bloody riot, and the
burning of railroad bridges to prevent help from reaching Washington.
For three days Washington was entirely cut off from the North, either by
telegraph or mail. General Scott hastily prepared the city for a siege,
taking possession of all the large supplies of flour and provisions
in town, and causing the Capitol and other public buildings to be
barricaded. Though President Lincoln did not doubt the final arrival
of help, he, like everyone else, was very anxious, and found it hard
to understand the long delay. He knew that troops had started from the
North. Why did they not arrive? They might not be able to go through
Baltimore, but they could certainly go around it. The distance was not
great. What if twenty miles of railroad had been destroyed, were the
soldiers unable to march? Always calm and self-controlled, he gave no
sign in the presence of others of the anxiety that weighed so heavily
upon him. Very likely the visitors who saw him during those days thought
that he hardly realized the plight of the city; yet an inmate of the
White House, passing through the President's office when the day's work
was done and he imagined himself alone, saw him pause in his absorbed
walk up and down the floor, and gaze long out of the window in
the direction from which the troops were expected to appear. Then,
unconscious of any hearer, and as if the words were wrung from him by
anguish, he exclaimed, "Why don't they come, why don't they come?"

The New York Seventh Regiment was the first to "come." By a roundabout
route it reached Washington on the morning of April 25, and, weary
and travel-worn, but with banners flying and music playing, marched up
Pennsylvania Avenue to the big white Executive Mansion, bringing cheer
to the President and re