04. Harry's Letters, March-May, 1865

public mind.

We got the terrible news of the assassination of the President and Secretary Seward on the morning of the 15th and the streets were instantly filled with the terrified populace. Such scenes of sorrow and dismay were never seen before. Strong men wept and groaned; and weak men raved and cursed. Not long after the receipt of the news, a crowd of excited men gave vent to their indignation by siezing upon the types and presses of certain newspapers which have heretofore been published here, in the Copperhead interest. The "Democratic Press" -- a McClellan organ; The "Monitor," an Irish Catholic -- rebel sympathizing sheet; the "News Letter," a scurrilous traducer of the Administration; the "Occidental," another of the same sort; the "Franco Americaine," a French-rebel paper were all demolished and forever "suspended." The crowd attempted to get possession of another French Rebel paper, the "Echo du Pacifique," but the Armed police got in ahead of them and saved its destruction. But it will hardly appear again, for Gen. McDowell has taken charge of it and

has made public announcement that it shall appear no more. It was a partial relief to the sadness of the time to witness their well directed acts of a loyal multitude; for beyond this they manifested no inclination to proceed, and, on the appearance of the Military, offensive operations ended. Every loyal heart prays for wisdom and moderation and calmness for our rulers in this day of great national peril.

And all good men feel more deeply than ever their responsibility in individual support and aid of the Common Weal. May God preserve us and direct the wise men of the land into the right paths.

Dear Nellie, the reading of your good letter makes me happy and sad by turns. Your interest to know of my surroundings; the kind sayings which you are too good to withhold and the interest which I know you feel in me a a friend all "cheer my love heart" but they fail to satisfy me. And, at times I am filled with wretched, gloomy doubts. Fears that you have discovered how utterly unworthy of your dear love I am and how unreasonable is the request for you

to give your heart to the keeping of one whose hard and frequent contact with the cold, bad world have made so little trustworthy of your future happiness. I have dared to believe that you love me Nellie. I yearn to have my doubts and fears put to rest and to know that your heart is mine alone. May I ask you to say that it is?

I wish I could attend your "circle" meetings. In fact, I believe it had rather be at Norway than here. You and all I love best are there and contentment and happiness are only to be had where those are that we love. I shall certainly return in another year, if possible.

You ask me to describe my surroundings. I will, and I will tell you fully and frankly of them and of my "Great Expectations."

As for my "surroundings," I am at present a sort of useless clerk in Gorham's office. More to gratify him and to have something to do than for the performance of any absolutely useful service. I am not a permanent fixture here and wouldn't be if I could. He has little need of me and spite his good-natured avowals to the

contrary has enough of clerical aid without me. I believe he would divide his office with me if I would let him. I am writing to you at my desk in the full sound of law-talk from attorneys and clerks. I dont like law-folks; for, as somebody said about an up-country District-Attorney, I am like necessity, -- I know no law. I take my natural sustenance and rest at the "Russ House," one of the first class hotels of the city; and my "surroundings" there are acquaintances in considerable numbers and strangers in crowds. The landlords, Messrs Hardinburgh and Dyer are old acquaintances of mine, and each in his time was Mayor of the city of Sacramento. There are some lady-friends of mine boarding there which makes it pleasant, and altogether the "Russ" is very pleasant for a hotel -- a place of residence which I abhor, although I have been living at public houses for a good many years. A hotel is not a home, and a home is what I desire -- (and which, with your help, I will have in Heavens own good time.) I have several friends here at whose houses I visit

and several others living near by who have extended me invitations to call and spend awhile with them. As to the general "surroundings" of San Francisco, I will merely say that it is a neat, busy, dusty city; pleasant and sunny in the early part of the day and windy and bleak in the afternoon and evening. The people are peculiarly a homogenous mass and represent, in very good attire, most all the nations of the earth. I sport a "plug" hat, new and sleek. I also sport brown kids and keep up a very considerable degree of dignity on the streets. The common people knowing my retiring disposition, have refrained from any public claims for my appearance at banquets or popular gatherings in the character of orator or guest of the city. I am actually addressed as Mr. Mighels by those of the thoughtless multitude who forget the title which has accompanied my world-wide fame, sounded this the brazen trump of Mars. Such is fame!

I send you a notice of my arrival which appeared in the "Nevada Union", a paper published in the New State of Nevada. I am in receipt of