The Writings of Carl Schurz/To Mrs. Schurz, March 15th, 1854
TO MRS. SCHURZ
In the first place let me tell you about the impressions of my trip. The journey from Philadelphia to Washington is rather monotonous, except the view of Chesapeake Bay, the crossing of several streams and the immediate vicinity of Washington. In approaching the city the attention is immediately arrested by some prominent objects, enormous marble buildings rising grandly above the smaller dwelling houses. Our first visit must, of course, be to the Capitol, the Federal palace of the United States, which contains the halls of Congress. The building is not entirely completed, but its proportions are noble in size and it is lavishly decorated with columns of white marble. Situated on a hill at the northern [southeastern] end of the city, it commands an unobstructed view of Washington and its environs. It is a strange-looking city. Imagine a broad street lined on both sides with hotels and shops, then wide stretches of open country and again streets interrupted by vacant lots; groups of houses scattered about in apparent disorder, with here and there a marble palace which contains one of the Government Departments. This strange jumble leaves the spectator in doubt whether all this grandeur is in a state of development or is already approaching decay. Opposite the Capitol, at the other end of the broad main street, which is about a mile and a half long, rises the White House, the residence of the President, beyond which the Potomac encircles the southern side of the city in a majestic sweep. Still beyond the river we see the hills of Virginia and on this side the hills of Maryland. That is the exterior, quite pleasing in its way. The life in the streets has a holiday character; there is very little business traffic, only enough to supply the wants of the government officials, the Members of Congress and visitors. This gives a city a marked physiognomy. The elegant toilets of the ladies add to the brilliance of the scene, and the gentlemen try to win their favor. Such is the out-of-door life.
An unusual sight adds to the gaiety of the spectacle: it is a delegation of Indians, come from the outer confines of civilization to discuss with the President a treaty about certain tracts of land. I saw them in all their wild splendor when I was going to the White House to-day. They wear moccasins and a kind of doe-skin leggins, decorated on both sides with gay feathers which make their legs resemble those of chickens with feathers extending down to their feet. They wrap themselves in blankets, generally blue. The most distinguished wear the skin of some wild animal, edged with red and trimmed with all sorts of metal balls, dangling down their back, so that at every step a sound like that of sleigh-bells, only not so loud, is produced. Their necks are encircled by strings of coral beads, but principally by necklaces of long, white bear claws which look somewhat gruesome. Their ears are decorated, wherever they can find a space, with great earrings and a quantity of little glistening bits of metal and glass beads, as if they were edged with a shining fringe. Into their hair they plait all sorts of eagle and falcon feathers, arranged so that they partly stand erect and partly project on the side of the head. Their faces are gorgeously painted, mostly with bright red, particularly the part between the cheek bone and the ear. Some of them had added a fine, wide, bright-green stripe which encircled the whole face like whiskers. The two most prominent Indians had put an extra touch on the left side of their faces; it looked a little as if someone had dipped his hand in blacking and had then slapped their cheek. I need not add that they wore no “kid gloves.” They are not of an imposingly vigorous stature, but they are well built. Their features are hard and deeply cut, the brow low and the skin a dirty reddish brown. Their speech consists, as far as I could hear it, of loud inarticulate sounds, and their conversation is accompanied by rapid gesticulation, almost like the conversation of deaf-mutes. So much for the wild Americans, now for the tame.
Yesterday I had bad luck in making calls, owing to the simple reason that the houses are not numbered and one has to spend much time in looking for them—often in vain. Yesterday I found only one of the persons to whom I was recommended. To-day I have been more fortunate. I made the acquaintance of two Representatives and one Senator and was well received. It may be several days before I penetrate into the higher spheres. However, I have learned much from the little I have seen and much that does not please me. Looking at things as an unprejudiced and disinterested spectator, this confusion of schemes, interests, fears, personal considerations, ambitious plans and claims, manœuvres, mutual deceptions etc.—one is involuntarily tempted not to venture further into the turmoil. However, within this sphere there are great duties, noble tasks, momentous decisions, that rise like columns from the dust in which the vermin crawl. You learn here what good political institutions mean. The country is being badly governed at this moment, but, however it may be governed, incapable as the men at the helm may be, things go well, nevertheless.
- ↑ Translated from the German.