Now they faced a loss that, for the time at least, might well be called total. The value of Boston and the city of New York alone in taxable property was 9 billions and 880 millions. Five cities of Connecticut were worth 483 millions. Massachusetts had 22 cities exclusive of Boston whose value was 1 billion and 415 millions. Counting all New England, with New York and Boston, and leaving out the New Jersey conquest, the enemy’s loot was 15 billions and 386 millions, exclusive of the public city, State and Federal property that he had seized.[172] _What Can He Do With It?_ “But what can he do with it?” the people of the rest of the United States began to ask each other presently. Men had prophesied in the beginning that the conqueror with his guns turned on the great cities, would extort vast tribute under threat of leveling them. But there had swept through the land a spirit that would face anything rather than to purchase safety and ignoble peace. “Let him destroy the cities and all the land!” said America. “We will build the sea-board up again, better than before. We will recompense our fellow-citizens for every scrap that they lose. But we shall never pay blackmail!” Had the invader entertained any such plan, this spirit that flamed unmistakably through the continent would have daunted him. But he had no such puerile design as to turn his wonderful prize into ashes. If his errand was one of brigandage and robbery, it was brigandage and robbery in the most scientific modern terms. It was brigandage that enlisted in its conception and prosecution the brains of a world’s financiers, the keen wit of a world’s merchants who wanted to win back the markets of the earth and the far-sighted policy of international diplomats. For almost a month the conqueror did not show his hand. For almost a month the seaboard from the end of Maine to New Jersey remained sealed. Then, suddenly, he gave the United States his reply to the question: “What Can He Do With It?” _The Invader’s Reply_ He opened the wires. He did not send out a word over them. The people of New England and New York did it. They sent out a flood of dispatches that were like a great cry for help. It was the invader’s reply, through them. The reply was “Starvation!” “We need coal! We need iron and steel! We need cotton!” cried the people of New England. “We have used up all our raw materials. We cannot work any longer unless you ship to us.” “We must re-open our banks!” said Boston and New York and the hundred other cities. “We are paralyzed without our exchanges and relations with the financial system of the country.” “We need foodstuffs!” said they all. The first quick decision of the country was one of wrathful refusal to furnish the supplies that the enemy might fatten himself. But the importunities from the conquered places grew. They went to all the land, west and north and south. They came at the White House like a storm.