to certain conflicts; it is the inauguration of civil war, and the beginning of the effusion of blood.  If it is a question of property, why not put an ordnance sergeant into them—­a man who wears worsted epaulets on his shoulders and stripes down his pantaloons—­as the representative of the property of the United States.  That will be enough to secure the forts.  If it is a question of property, he represents it,[2] and let us wait until the issue is made by South Carolina.  She will go out of the Union and send her commissioners here.  Up to that point the action is insignificant.  Action after this demands the attention of the great council of the nation.  Let us submit the question to Congress—­it is for Congress to deal with the matter.”

  [Sidenote] Floyd’s Richmond Speech, N.Y.  “Herald,” Jan. 17, 1861,
  p. 2.

This crafty appeal to the President’s hesitating inclinations, and in accord with his policy hitherto pursued, was seconded by the active persuasions of the leading conspirators of Congress whom Floyd promptly called to his assistance.  “I called for help from that bright Saladin of the South, Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi—­and I said, ’Come to my rescue; the battle is a little more than my weak heart can support.  Come to me;’ and he came.  Then came that old jovial-looking, noble-hearted representative from Virginia, James M. Mason.  Here came that anomaly of modern times, the youthful Nestor, here came Hunter....  From the north, the south, the east, and the west there came up the patriots of the country, the champions of constitutional liberty, and they talked with the President of the United States, and they quieted his fears and assured him in the line of duty.  They said, ’Let there be no force’; and the President said to me, ’I am content with your policy’; and then it was that we determined that we would send no more troops to the harbor in Charleston.”

Strip this statement of its oratorical exaggeration, and the reader can nevertheless see, in the light of after occurrences, a vivid and truthful picture of a conspiring cabal, stooping to arts and devices difficult to distinguish from direct personal treachery, flattering, threatening, and coaxing by turns, and finally lulling the fears of the President, through his vain hope that they would help him tide over a magnified danger, and shift upon Congress a responsibility he had not the courage to meet.

Mr. Cass, however, could no longer be quieted.  Through all the rhetoric, sophistry, and bluster of the conspirators he saw the diminishing resources of the Government and the rising power of the insurrection.  With a last bold effort to rouse the President from his lethargy, he demanded, in the Cabinet meeting of the 13th, that the forts should be strengthened.  But he was powerless to break the spell.  Says Floyd:  “The President said to him in reply, with a beautiful countenance and with a heroic decision that I shall never forget, in the council chamber, ’I have considered this question.  I am sorry to differ from the Secretary of State; I have made up my mind.  The interests of the country do not demand a reenforcement of the forces in Charleston.  I cannot do it—­and I take the responsibility of it upon myself.’”