[. . .] And if this state of things continues long, it will cost a great deal to re-stock the Estate and re-open the mines. There has been some slight improvement lately in the rate of yield but on the whole the mines are very unpromising. If the condition and prospects of the Estate as I understand them, were known in New York, I should think the Company would fail, and the bondholders would feel as if they had drawn an elephant. If I owned it, I don’t think I would work it. I would rather give it away and put any capital I could command into something else. But others with the same understanding of the facts would not do so, would take the risk of failure in the hope of “striking it rich.”

I am just about out of money—have no further means of paying my salary or expenses. I telegraphed last week for $5000 to be remitted by telegraph. If it comes, I shall be relieved, but if it does not, I shall not quit for the present. We all seem now to have got acclimatized and to be gaining in health and the children are doing so well that we are willing if it should be necessary to stay a little longer at our own expense—it cannot be very long for expenses are frightfully high. But I think I shall stand it till September, which ends my second year of service.

As far as I can now see the chances are that I shall then return to New York simply because at this moment the chances are that the Company will fail—will fail at least to pay me—and it is unlikely that the company or any company or individual owning the Estate will hereafter (be able to) pay $10,000 a year for a manager.

[367]

As to staying in Cala off the Estate I agree with all you say—about the occasion I have to make money if I can, about Cala being the best place to make money (as a general rule) and about the difficulty and danger I should have with a newspaper—but on the other hand I am not the sort to rough it or enter into the rough competition of business in Cala without capital, and after watching for three months for it in San Francisco, I could see no demand for me, except perhaps in the newspaper business, without capital. There are men of high position who would like to make use of me but it is only because they think that I could get capital for them in New York—get up stock companies, of the Mariposa model, for the development of California property of questionable value, which I wouldn’t do if I could. And as I cannot wait here for business, long, as soon as I am relieved of the Estate, I shall probably start for home. Perhaps it will be equally difficult for me to find any business by which I can get a living there, but I can live on my capital twice as long there at least, as I can here, while looking for business. My stocks have fallen a little of late, but I can still reckon on landing in New York with at least $8000—perhaps $10.000.

I am much obliged to you for your course with regard to the Freedman’s Bureau. It was exactly what I would have had you say. I do not much incline to it, because I do not believe the government would allow me to do what I should think best to be done. It would be, I fear, not only a vexatious, aggravating and thankless duty but a puerile pretence & fizzle.

And I do so chafe and worry and run my head against any humbugging business—any compromise—the how not to do it style of work—of which I have seen so much and have become morbidly suspicious, that I must keep clear of it hereafter if I can.

I should do best as President of a Rail Road Company or an Insurance Company—but—as you say—a man needs more than one ten thousd for anything like that. I wish you could find some commission business in which you and I could engage together, wherein a little capital would go a good way and be safe. Some new business lines ought to be opened in New-York by all the changes that the peace and opening of the South will occasion in trade. If the Atlantic telegraph works, I should like to have an agency to collect and transmit news, for the London Telegraphic News Company (Reuter’s successor), or the European Agency for the Associated Press. I have had ever since I have been in this burnt country, a real craving for the English climate. Mary has the same and agrees to live on bread and cheese for a year if I will get the consulship to any slushy old town where there are donkeys to let. Another thing we are agreed upon, that we will never go into the country again where they don’t keep a brook. We have ridden today, and the children climbed on foot, 2500 feet vertically and six miles horizontally to visit a spring. It [368]does not run as much water in a day as a washstand Croton pipe, but it is quite delightful to us. So of the two, I rather prefer the European end, but will take the Western at $4000 a year, provided I can live near a fish market and have other tolerably moist privileges.

Can you not learn something thro’ Dudley Field or Potter or otherwise about the Company and what is likely to be done? You seem to think the Trustees swindlers. They deceived me and have not individually kept their word with me, but I have seen nothing which I cannot excuse—nothing which looks necessarily like intentional wrong—in Mr Hoy or Mr Opdyke. So far as I know, they appear to have acted in good faith. And as long as this is so, I am inclined to do the best I can for them.

I am half inclined to ask you to see Field and get him to get me some distinct security against staying here without being paid. They are wrong to leave me in doubt about this, but I will wait a while longer.

I write so entirely about myself, and to no purpose, simply because I am lonely and feel left alone and very much want your advice all the time. The Company don’t ask anything of me, and I don’t know whether I ought to write them my opinion of the Estate or not. I don’t want even negatively to help cheat anybody or maintain false impressions. They have the important facts and are able to judge for themselves what should be done. Your letter indicates that you think there is occasion for a justification of my management. I should like much to know if any of those concerned doubt if my management has been judicious. I wish much that if there is any question of it, it might be thoroughly tried. I am perfectly clear that the duty given me has been well done and that I could satisfy the sufferers of it.

I suppose your doubts about Grant’s originating and controlling the movements of Sherman are fully set at rest. I quite agree with you about England and how much better it would have been for our people to have taken the English gabble in silence. That was my impulse so strongly that I can’t yet feel as if I could talk with an Englishman about it. Nor do I think Englishmen need be expected to understand our—my—view of the war in this generation, after all. But Grant, they will at least do justice to, as a General, I think. And who, as a General, past or present, compares with him? He is as distinctively an American, democratic, General as this has been an American war and like no other. I doubt if he could command a European army in the European way. Would he have done better with a thoroughly trained Etat Major?

I wish you would write in favor of Polytechnic schools to educate officers for volunteers—the military teachers to be supplied (in turn) from the army—the pupils to be taken by competative examination from the common schools (& otherwise). This would give the Federal government [369]a certain duty in regard to Common Schools and lead on at least to an inspectorship and toward a uniform system. The polytechnics might be state schools aided and shaped by federal government, or one or two great West Point schools. The latter would have the advantage of bringing so many together that brigade movements could be had, and we never want volunteer officers higher than Brigadier Generals, at the outbreak of war. I don’t suppose the course should be as complete as the present W. Point. The militia should be officered from graduates. And then the militia should be inspected by regular officers, and there should be a militia Adjutant General system, and a federal Militia bureau.

Now is the time to organize a proper militia and Army Reserve System. The returning volunteers know enough and have the habits of discipline &c. necessary to get it started. It could be done at a tenth of the cost and difficulty that it could a few years hence. The polytechnic education I mean to be something more than military—a sort of college, fitting men generally for any business, the military training being somewhat incidental. Suppose a Military Department were established in connection with any college or great educational institution, in the manner of the Scientific, Theological and Law Departments of Yale—Government endowing it, supplying military professors &c and supplying arms and drilling officers for the whole college. All the pupils of the college are (within their four years) to be drilled and educated up to the requirements of company officers—so as to be fit to take the field as company officers of volunteers—or militia. Such as like may at their own expense (the same as pupils of the Scientific School) take a complete or partial special military course similar to the West Point course, and in addition to these there are to be a certain number of scholarships—equivalent to a nomination to West Point at present—provided by govt. These to be filled by competitions from a selection of the best Common School pupils. All the pupils whether government or otherwise after once entering to be on the same footing and to be equally eligible for appointments to regular army. The selection to be made according to class standing.

I wrote out a scheme of this sort early in the war and read it to Profr Bache, who was much pleased with it. So was Gibbs.

I have a letter from Jenkins by the way, of a strangely doleful tone. He apologizes for an uncontrollable melancholy, but gives me no idea of the grounds of it, except that the San. Com. is in a very bad way and he seems to think that he has in some way been imposed upon. He intimates that he don’t resign only because the war seems so near its end but regrets that he had not before he went to Washington. Do you know anything about it? As far as I can see the Commission has been doing very well of late. I see my own ideas better carried out than they ever were allowed to be before in some respects.

I am surprised that none of the Commissioners ever write to me. [370] Bellows promised to write on some particular matters that I am interested in as soon as he arrived—but I know nothing of them & he hasn’t given me a line or directed anybody else to. I have not heard from Knapp for six months.

We visited your old friend Mrs Sherwood in S.F. and were most agreeably disappointed with her and her husband. She is a quiet sensible domestic woman—with scarcely a trace left of her old romance and enthusiasms and he, a good natured, nice, thriving business man. She looks well too—and seemed to me altogether much the best of the family. But perhaps all the rest would be found unexpectedly agreeable in California.

Miel, I did not see, but heard about a good deal. He has been most liberally assisted and has a fine school, but he will fail the moment he is left to stand alone—from constitutional inability to succeed. He has crazy expectations and is always ready to run deeply in debt upon them.

Will you please order a card plate and some cards for me. I lost mine when I came out here. I have generally had small capital Roman letters, but want the proper thing, whatever you think it is. I have no idea. Keep the plate and send me fifty cards by mail. I enclose $3_ greenbacks.

I want your advice, first as to whether my character will be injured by remaining here—second whether I am likely to get paid if I do remain.

It will be difficult for you to imagine how perfectly blank I am in knowledge of the company off the Estate. I don’t know who the Trustees are, much less what they are, what they are doing. Mr Hoy has not written me officially or privately since October last—nor has anyone of the Board.

I believe I told you that the Brooklyn Park people adopted my suggestions generally and applied to the Legislature for improved en-trance & for certain preliminary powers that would enable them to apply next year for power to get the land wanted on the other side. They succeeded and I am now treating with them in Detail as to design. I ask $5000 for plan & $5000 per ann to commence at once and expenses to Europe this summer. The Plan is to be completed in Decr, then they are to use it to help them get the ground &c. All this, you see, gives easy time. They seem quiet inoffensive people—you know the prime mover, Stranahan perhaps. He has shown readiness to act now. I easily accept his excuses for not carrying out Viele’s plan.

Green keeps communicating with me, we meet in the street now. He cannot come to me, I cannot go to him. He is in a stew apparently, and would of course like to get me committed. I remind him of your withdrawal of resignation and its unsatisfactory result. I tell him we are out and are satisfied to remain so. My only object in communicating with him is to get information. He says he should be sorry if the present state of affairs should drift into an antagonism. I point out to him that the antagonism has existed for some time but that it has not been my policy to mention it. You see that the Commission must be in a queer state for [373]him, after the publication of my letter, to talk in this way. I tell him that I shall do nothing without consulting you.

I cannot of course tell how you are situated, or what risks you are inclined to take or whether you really want to go ahead, and give the public what they have a right to ask from a work of this kind, an organised system for supplying the demand it necessarily creates. At present all this is in a very defective state. The war has occupied the attention of the people and I suppose you know enough of human nature to be aware that nobody has begun to miss you much yet. If you were to walk down Broadway tomorrow, it would be all perfectly natural and your friends would be glad to see you. Nobody cares two straws for the mines in St. Francisco. As yet you are the representative man of the C.P. and not much else to New Yorkers, and very likely the majority of those who think of the matter at all suppose you still to be at work there. Most of the artists certainly till the last week or two thought that I was there as usual. You have taken so little pains to cultivate the art interest, that as yet of course you are personally somewhat unknown to your brother centurions. But all this is in good enough shape, as you can readily see.

In my proposition to the B.P.C., I did not—as I intended when I last wrote to you—distinctly say to them that I proposed to offer you the opportunity to combine in this matter as you offered me the opportunity to combine in the other. I had it in the draft, but Withers thought it better not to speak so decidedly and as it were to own the need, until sure of your willingness—in this he is right, for you can clearly see that when the link is once decidedly severed, it will be difficult to re-unite it & I shall have to make the best of my lonely position. At present, all is square and intelligible before the public and your park reputation is in a logical shape.

If I go on and do Brooklyn alone, well or ill, you suffer because the public naturally will say, if Olmsted really was the prime mover in the C.P. why is he not ready to go forward in the path that he started in. Moreover the C.P. slides into bad shape and I have either to take it or let it alone. I think I should have to let it alone but if I were to take it afresh, you of course would suffer. In this, as you see, all depends on your own present view of affairs. I have no end to gain but the advancement of the whole thing and its proper development. You I know want to manage the park. Of course you do, the artistic development requires it. I see that and have always seen it and never opposed you in any way. My position always was, do it first and manage it afterwards. If you want to be President of that old rattle trap C.P.C., why I suppose you could be it and live on the park till the end of your life, but you must have a plan of campaign.

The term Landscape Architect does not suit you, well I am sorry [374]for it. I think it is the art title. We want to set art ahead and make it command its position, administration, management, funds, commission, popularity and everything else—then we have a tangible something to stand on. As administration with art attached as a makeweight the thing is in wrong shape. My tie to you exclusive of personal attachment which does not influence me much in these days is an art tie. I recognise your ability and that you belong to that side, squarely and fairly. You have now a seven years reputation, long enough of course for anyone, and it remains to be seen whether you will use it or not. I shall not advise but, if when I return in the Fall you should happen to be here again disengaged and willing to devote a decade to Landscape art, why, there is the half of Brooklyn to begin on and all we can get besides but it must not be a pis aller. My position is that I have defended you from yourself and that “Olmsted & Vaux” is an institution that ought not to be a mere bubble to be blown away heedlessly. You see there is time to think things over. If you were here I suppose we could put in a good knock now but you are not and the chance may go by. Of course they will try and get some new man &c, but the apple of Sodom fair as it looks, is but an apple of Sodom, after all. Goodbye for today