By 1860 Washington had reached the middle of its Slough of Despond. Not a street was paved except for a patch here and there, and Pennsylvania Avenue was the only one lighted after nightfall. Pigs roamed through the less pretentious highways as freely as dogs. There was not a sewer anywhere, a shallow, uncovered stream carrying off the common refuse to the Potomac, which was held in its channel only by raw earthen bluffs. Wells and springs furnished all the water, and the police and fire departments were those of a village. The open squares, intended for beauty spots, were densely overgrown with weeds. Except for an omnibus line to Georgetown, not a public conveyance was running. Such permanent Department buildings as had been started, though ambitious in design and suggesting by their outlines a desire for something better than had yet been accomplished, had not reached a habitable state. The Capitol was in disorder, and still overrun with workmen who had been employed in constructing the new wings and were preparing to raise the dome; the White House had scarcely a fitter look, with its environment of stables and shambling fences and its unkempt grounds. Nor was there any prospect of speedy improvement in municipal conditions. Every considerable stride in that direction would mean largely increased taxation, and the bulk of the taxable property had drifted into the hands of unprogressive whites and ignorant negroes, who were equally unwilling to pay the price. Upon this seemingly hopeless chaos descended the cloud of civil war. It was a black cloud, but it had a sunlit lining. CHAPTER II WAR TIMES AND THEIR SEQUEL Three days after John Brown had been hanged for his Harper’s Ferry raid, the Thirty-sixth Congress convened. Brown’s exploit had sent a wave of excitement sweeping over the country, and the slavery controversy had entered a phase of emotional acuteness it had never known before. There was a strong Republican plurality in the new House of Representatives, but it was by no means of one mind, most of its members still hoping to avoid any action which might precipitate a dismemberment of the Union. It took forty-four ballots, covering a period of eight weeks, for a combination of Republicans with a few outsiders to choose a Speaker, and the wrangling which preceded and followed the choice reached at times the verge of bloodshed. A large majority of the Representatives from both Northern and Southern constituencies attended the sessions armed.