There had arisen a disagreeable misunderstanding between General
Schenck and myself during the period when the general was Minister at
the Court of St. James. In consequence of this we did not personally
meet. One evening at Chamberlin’s years after, a party of us—mainly the
Ohio statesman’s old colleagues in Congress—were playing poker. He came
in and joined us. Neither of us knew the other even by sight and there
was no presentation when he sat in.
At length a direct play between the newcomer and me arose. There was a
moment’s pause. Obviously we were strangers. Then it was that Senator
Allison, of Iowa, who had in his goodness of heart purposely brought
about this very situation, introduced us. The general reddened. I was
taken aback. But there was no escape, and carrying it off amiably we
shook hands. It is needless to say that then and there we dropped our
groundless feud and remained the rest of his life very good friends.
In this connection still another poker story. Sam Bugg, the Nashville
gambler, was on a Mississippi steamer bound for New Orleans. He came
upon a party of Tennesseeans whom a famous card sharp had inveigled and
was flagrantly robbing. Sam went away, obtained a pack of cards, and
stacked them to give the gambler four kings and the brightest one of
the Nashville boys four aces. After two or three failures to bring the
cold deck into action Sam Bugg brushed a spider—an imaginary spider, of
course—from the gambler’s coat collar, for an instant distracting his
attention—and in the momentary confusion the stacked cards were duly
dealt and the betting began, the gambler confident and aggressive.
Finally, all the money up, the four aces beat the four kings, and for a
greater amount than the Nashvillians had lost and the gambler had won.
Whereupon, without change of muscle, the gambler drawled: “Mr. Bugg,
the next time you see a spider biting me let him bite on!”
I was told that the Senate Game had been played during the War of
Sections and directly after for large sums. With the arrival of the
rebel brigadiers it was perforce reduced to a reasonable limit.
The “road gang” was not unknown at the White House. Sometimes it
assembled at private houses, but its accustomed place of meeting was
first Welcker’s and then Chamberlin’s. I do not know whether it
continues to have abiding place or even an existence. In spite of the
reputation given me by the pert paragraphers I have not been on a race
course or seen a horse race or played for other than immaterial stakes
for more than thirty years.