CHAPTER I.

Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer

Transcriber's note:

The digraphs "ae" and "oe" are spelled out for clarity.

The chapter summaries in the Table of Contents are repeated in the

book at the start of each chapter. At the end of each chapter is

a facsimile autograph and a brief biography of the signer. The

running page titles are omitted.

Vol. I, Chap. XLIII: "President's Message or" changed to "President's

Message on"

Vol. II, Chap. IX: "Lamar" changed to "Lamon"

A tabulation of the 1884 Presidential vote totals has been added.

The typographical fist is represented by the right guillamet (").

LoC catalog number: E179.P8

[Frontispiece: perley.jpg]

Engr. by H. B. Hall's Sons, New York

[Signed] Faithfully yours,

Ben: Perley Poore

PERLEY'S

REMINISCENCES

OF SIXTY YEARS IN THE

NATIONAL METROPOLIS

_Illustrating the Wit, Humor, Genius, Eccentricities, Jealousies,

Ambitions and Intrigues of the Brilliant Statesmen, Ladies, Officers,

Diplomats, Lobbyists and other noted Celebrities of the World that

gather at the Centre of the Nation; describing imposing Inauguration

Ceremonies, Gala Day Festivities, Army Reviews, &c., &c., &c._

BY BEN: PERLEY POORE.

_The Veteran Journalist, Clerk of the Senate Printing Records,

Editor of the Congressional Directory, and Author of Various Works._

Illustrated.

VOL. I.

HUBBARD BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, PHILADELPHIA.

Boston, Cincinnati, Kansas City; W. A. Houghton, New York; A. W.

Stolp, Chicago; A. W. Mills, Tecumseh, Mich.; E. Holdoway & Co.,

St. Louis; L. S. Varney & Co., Minneapolis; A. L. Bancroft & Co.,

San Francisco.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886, by

BEN: PERLEY POORE,

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

NOTICE TO BOOKSELLERS.

This book is sold exclusively by subscription, all agents being

strictly enjoined by contract from selling in any other way. Any

evasion of this plan of sale will be a trespass upon the copyright

rights of the author. HUBBARD BROS.

PREFACE.

The public favor with which the journalistic writings of the

subscriber have been received prompted the publication of these

volumes. Their object is to give personal details concerning

prominent men and women in social and political life at the National

Metropolis since he has known it. He has especially endeavored to

portray those who "in Congress assembled" have enacted the laws,

and those who have interpreted and enforced the provisions under

which the United States has advanced, during the past sixty years,

from comparative infancy into the vigor of mature manhood, and has

successfully defended its own life against a vigorous attempt at

its destruction.

In chronicling what has transpired within his personal recollection

at the National Metropolis, he has gathered what "waifs" he has

found floating on the sea of chat, in the whirlpools of gossip, or

in the quiet havens of conversation. Some of these may be personal

--piquantly personal, perhaps--but the mighty public has had an

appetite for gossipings about prominent men and measures ever since

the time when the old Athenians crowded to hear the plays of

Aristophanes.

The subscriber is aware that some who write of prominent persons

and political events indulge too much in sycophantic flattery,

while others have their brains addled by brooding on some fancied

wrong, or their minds have lost their even poise by dwelling on

insane reforms or visionary projects. All this may have its use,

but the subscriber has preferred to look at things in a more cheerful

way, to pluck roses rather than nettles, and neither to throw filth

nor to blow trumpets.

While the Republic has preserved with commendable pride the histories

of her statesmen and her martial defenders, it is well that the

memories of those of the gentler sex, who have from time to time

taken prominent part in shaping the destinies of the nation, should

also be remembered. This work will give, it is hoped, an idea of stirring

events in both political and social life, of the great men and the

fascinating women who have figured in Washington during the past

six decades. Those who were too well acquainted with these personal

details to think of recording them are fast passing away, and some

account of them cannot but interest younger generations, while it

will not fail to profit the older politicians, publicists, and

journalists.

The great difficulty in the compilation of the "Reminiscences" has

been the selection from the masses of material accumulated in

diaries, autograph letters, and scrap-books containing published

literary matter. To have given a connected political and social

history of what has transpired at the National Metropolis during

the past sixty years would have required a dozen volumes, so the

most conspicuous features only have been here and there selected.

Confident of the exact truthfulness of the sketches here given,

this work is presented, without apologies, to a generous public as

the result of very extensive observation.

BEN: PERLEY POORE.

INDIAN HILL FARM,

Near Newburyport, Mass.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS BECOMES PRESIDENT.

The Tenth Presidential Election--A Political Bargain--Election of

President--A Scene in the House--Inauguration of J. Q. Adams--The

Adams Administration--The Mistress of the White House--The President's

Private Secretary--Social Life at the White House--President Adams'

Daily Life--Henry Clay as Secretary of State--The Rival Candidates

--The Death of Two Ex-Presidents.

CHAPTER II.

TRAVELING IN "YE OLDEN TIME."

Travel by Stage and Steamboat--Boston to Providence--The Old Town

of Providence--The Long Island Sound Steamers--New York City--New

York to Philadelphia--Philadelphia to Washington--Washington Hotel

Life--Expenses of Living--The Metropolis of the Union--The National

Capital--Works of Art--The Rotunda--Free-Masonry--The Morgan

Excitement--Theatrical--Division of the Friends' Society.

CHAPTER III.

JOURNALISM IN 1828.

Old Georgetown--The Union Tavern--A Natal African Salute--President

George Washington--Major L'Enfant--Newspaper Organs--The National

Intelligencer--The National Journal--Matthew L. Davis--James Gordon

Bennett--Mordecai M. Noah--Other Washington Correspondents--A

Notable Briton--Gambling-Houses--Senatorial Card Playing--Social

Games of Whist.

CHAPTER IV.

PROMINENT SENATORS OF 1827.

The Nineteenth Congress--Vice-President John C. Calhoun--Martin

Van Buren--Nathaniel Macon, of North Carolina--Thomas Hart Benton

--Randolph, of Roanoke--Duel between Clay and Randolph--An Offended

Virginian--A Future President--Prominent Senators--Senatorial

Control of Society--The Dancing Assemblies--Fashionable Attire--

Belles of the Period--The Code of Honor.

CHAPTER V.

PROMINENT REPRESENTATIVES OF 1827.

The Representatives' Hall--Admission of Ladies--Webster, of

Massachusetts--Edward Everett--McDuffie, of South Carolina--Rhode

Island's Bald Eagle--A Bargain Exposed--Retrenchment and Reform--

Prominent Representatives--The Supreme Court--Chief Justice Marshall

--Mr. Justice Washington--The Christmas Holidays.

CHAPTER VI.

THE POLITICAL MACHINE.

The Tenth Presidential Campaign--Election of General Jackson--Death

of Mrs. Andrew Jackson--The Inauguration of "Old Hickory"--Reception

at the White House--An Editorial Phalanx--The Civil Service--

Disciplining a Postmaster General--A Fortunate Mail Contractor--

The Sunday Mail Crusade.

CHAPTER VII.

THE KITCHEN CABINET.

Jackson's First Annual Message--The Kitchen Cabinet--Blair, of the

Globe--Washington Newspapers and News--The First Lady-Bird of the

Press--Nathaniel P. Willis--Peter Force--Social Enjoyments--Mrs.

Trollope on Washington Society--Attempt to Oust a Veteran from

Office--Payment of the Claims on France.

CHAPTER VIII.

BATTLE OF THE GIANTS.

The Great Senatorial Debate--Attack on New England--Webster's Reply

to Hayne--Nullification Nipped in the Bud--Society in Jackson's

Day--Mrs. General Eaton--A Chivalrous President--Theatricals--The

Great Tragedian--Minor Amusements--Executive Charity--Swartwouting

--The Star Spangled Banner.

CHAPTER IX.

STAMPING OUT OF NULLIFICATION.

Rejection of Martin Van Buren--The War against the United States

Bank--Nick Biddle, of the Bank--Re-election of General Jackson--

Financial Debate in the Senate--Calhoun, of South Carolina--Secession

Stamped Out--Union Proclamation--The Expunging Resolution--A

Senatorial Scene--An Appeal from the Chair.

CHAPTER X.

PROMINENT MEN OF JACKSON'S TIME.

Harry of the West--Tilt between Clay and Benton--Rebuke of a

Revolutionary Hero--Apt Oratorical Illustration--Daniel Webster's

Wit--An Excited Visitor--The House of Representatives--General

Houston Reprimanded--Eli Moore, of New York--Churchill C. Cambreleng

--Crockett, of Tennessee--Embryo Presidents--Other Distinguished

Representatives--A Jackson Democrat.

CHAPTER XI.

SOCIETY IN JACKSON'S TIME.

The Van Ness Mansion--A Benefactress--A Popular Citizen--A Much-

Talked-of Lawsuit--A Runaway Nun--General Jackson's Diplomacy--

Washington Society--Anecdotes told by Mr. Clay--Maelzel's Automata

--Condemned Literature.

CHAPTER XII.

JACKSON AND HIS ASSOCIATES.

Democratic Rejoicing--Attempt at Assassination--The Political

Guillotine--The Vicar of Bray--Daniel Webster's Memory--Bayard, of

Delaware--The Claytons--Pearce, of Maryland--The Classical and the

Vernacular--Boulanger's--Location of the New Treasury Building--

Hackett, the Comedian--A Jealous Artist--Sumner's First Visit to

Washington--The Supreme Court and its Justices.

CHAPTER XIII.

JACKSON'S LAST YEAR IN THE WHITE HOUSE.

Van Buren as Vice-President--Henry Clay as Champion of the Bank--

Washington's Ceremonial Birthday--Removal of His Remains--The

Decapitation of General Jackson--The President at the Race-Track--

An Old-Time Cock Fight--Wedding at Arlington--The Public Gardener

--Miss Fanny Kemble--Cheese Reception at the White House.

CHAPTER XIV.

VAN BUREN'S STORMY ADMINISTRATION.

Inauguration of Van Buren--His First Reception--Departure of Jackson

for the Hermitage--Van Buren's Embarrassments--The Great Financial

Debate--Antagonism of Clay and Calhoun--An All Night Session--

Morning Excuses--The Graves and Cilley Duel--A Congressional

Comedian.

CHAPTER XV.

COMMENCEMENT OF THE ANTI-SLAVERY MOVEMENT.

The Slavery Agitation--Early Secession Movements--Webster on

Emancipation--His Idea of the Far West--Franklin Pierce's Position

--The Foremost of Orators--Joseph Holt--King, of Alabama--The

Buckshot War--Star Routes--Van Buren's Titles.

CHAPTER XVI.

POLITICAL INTRIGUES AND SOCIAL MOVEMENTS.

Presidential Hospitalities--Social Entertainments--A Gifted

Adventuress--Espy, the Weather King--A Foreign Indorsement--Van

Buren's Re-election--The Ogle Speech--Van Buren's New Year's

Reception.

CHAPTER XVII.

LOG-CABINS AND HARD CIDER.

The Harrison Campaign--Political Songs--Whig Conventions--Great

Paraders--Corwin's Reply to Crary--Crary's Complete Discomfiture--

The Campaign Paper--Horace Greeley--Henry Clay on the Stump--Amos

Kendall--The Fall Elections--Pipe Laying--The Whigs Triumphant.

CHAPTER XVIII.

ENTER WHIGS--EXIT DEMOCRATS.

The Fourteenth Presidential Election--Enter Harrison--Exit Van

Buren--The Harrison Cabinet--Attack upon Mr. Webster--"The Salt

Boiler of the Kanawha"--The other Cabinet Officers--Harrison's

Inaugural Message--The Inauguration--The Procession--Scenes at the

Capitol--The Inaugural Address--President Harrison's First Reception

--Inauguration Balls.

CHAPTER XIX.

HARRISON'S ONE MONTH OF POWER.

Civil Service Reform--Differences of Opinion--Difficulty between

Clay and King--Washington Correspondents--Verbatim Reports of

Debates--A Popular British Minister--Other Foreign Diplomats--

Quarrelsome Carolinians--Daniel Webster's Housekeeping--Illness of

President Harrison--Death--Funeral--The Last Honors.

CHAPTER XX.

THE KING IS DEAD--LONG LIVE THE KING.

"Le Roi Est Mort; Vive le Roi"--Extra Session of Congress--Trouble

in the Whig Camp--Edward Everett before the Senate--Thurlow Weed--

Dissensions among the Whigs--Cabinet Troubles--Congressional

Criticisms--Cushing and Adams, of Massachusetts--Wise, of Virginia

--Bagby, of Alabama.

CHAPTER XXI.

DIPLOMATIC AND SOCIAL LIFE OF WEBSTER.

The Ashburton Treaty--Diplomatic Negotiations--Speech by Daniel

Webster--Webster's Social Life--Mr. Clay's Nightcaps--Administration

Organs--Justice to John Tyler.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE CAPITOL AND THE DRAWING ROOMS.

A Stormy Session--John Quincy Adams at Bay--The Code of Honor--The

Supreme Court--Visit of Charles Dickens--The Secretary of State's

Party--A Reception at the White House--The President's Ball for

Children--Diplomatic Hospitality--Ole Bull--A Troublesome

Congressman.

CHAPTER XXIII.

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS.

The Accidental President--Virginia Hospitality--Second-Hand Style

--The Pathfinder's Marriage--Baron de Bodisco, of Russia--Mr. Fox,

of Great Britain--The Author of "Sweet Home"--The Daguerreotype--

The Electric Telegraph--The New York Tribune--Resignation of Mr.

Webster--Reconstruction of the Cabinet--Fatal Accident on the

Princeton--Marriage of President Tyler.

CHAPTER XXIV.

HOW TEXAS BECAME A STATE.

John C. Calhoun, Secretary of State--How Tyler was Managed--Admission

of Texas--Douglas, of Illinois--An Able House of Representatives--

An Exciting Campaign--President Tyler's Programme--Nomination of

Henry Clay--The Democratic Ticket--Surprise of George M. Dallas--

The Liberty Party--Exit John Tyler.

CHAPTER XXV.

PRESIDENT POLK'S ADMINISTRATION.

Inauguration of Polk--His Personal Appearance--Inauguration Balls

--Mrs. Polk--Secretary Buchanan--Governor Marcy, of New York--

Completion of the Cabinet--The Oregon Difficulty--The Mexican War

--A Change of Organist.

CHAPTER XXVI.

DEATH OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

Washington Society--An Old Whig Supper--Death of John Quincy Adams

--Abraham Lincoln in the House--Jefferson Davis as a Representative

--The Democratic Nomination--Lewis Cass, of Michigan--The Whig

Convention--Daniel Webster and Henry Clay--Nomination of General

Taylor--Letter of Acceptance--The Free-Soil Movement--Inception of

the Great Conspiracy.

CHAPTER XXVII.

MAKING THE MOST OF POWER.

President Taylor and His Secretary--Selection of the Taylor Cabinet

--The Taylor Family--Jefferson Davis--Inauguration Ceremonies--

Office Seekers--Patronage and Spoils--The Galphin, Gardiner, and

other Claims--The Taylor Administration--The White House.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE GREAT COMPROMISE DEBATE.

Stormy Scenes at the Capitol--Crimination and Recrimination--Taylor's

Only Message--Return of Mr. Clay to the Senate--The Great Compromise

Debate--Webster's Seventh of March Speech--The Last Days of Calhoun

--Jefferson Davis' Leadership--John P. Hale, of New Hampshire.

CHAPTER XXIX.

PROMINENT STATESMEN AND DIPLOMATS.

Sam Houston, of Texas--Seward, of New York--Buchanan, of Pennsylvania

--Agricultural Donations--Diplomatic Representatives--Social

Enjoyments--Winthrop's Farewell Supper--Fatal Illness of General

Taylor--Death of the President.

CHAPTER XXX.

FILLMORE AT THE WHITE HOUSE.

President Fillmore--Funeral of General Taylor--Webster again

Secretary of State--The Compromise Measures--Mrs. Millard Fillmore

--A Proud Father--The Capitol Extension--The Library of Congress--

Washington Society--Public Amusements.

CHAPTER XXXI.

ARRAIGNMENT OF DANIEL WEBSTER.

Accusation Against Mr. Webster--The "Expounder of the Constitution"

Sore at Heart--Belligerent Mississippians--Painting and Sculpture

at the Capitol--Overland Explorations--A Washington Mob--A Washington

Correspondent.

CHAPTER XXXII.

FOREIGN INFLUENCE AND KNOW-NOTHINGISM.

"Filibustering"--The Hulsemann Letter--Kossuth, of Hungary--The

Know-Nothings--Boss Tweed, of New York--Butler, of South Carolina

--Other Prominent Senators--Exit Clay--Enter Sumner--The Officers

of the House.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

PLOTTING FOR THE PRESIDENCY.

President-Making--Political Intrigues--The Democratic Convention--

Nomination of General Pierce--The Whig Candidates--Rivalry Between

Webster and Fillmore--The Last Whig National Convention--Death of

Henry Clay--General Scott as a Candidate--General Frank Pierce, of

New Hampshire--Death of Daniel Webster--General Pierce Elected

President.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

PIERCE BECOMES PRESIDENT.

Inauguration of President Pierce--Vice-President King--The Cabinet

--Popularity of the New President--Pryor, of Virginia--Rare Old

Wines--Peale's Portraits of Washington--Brady's Portraits--Visit

of Thackeray--A Copyright Victim--Jullien's Concerts.

CHAPTER XXXV.

CHIVALRY, AT HOME AND ABROAD.

Executive Appointments--The Ostend Manifesto--Mr. Buchanan at London

--The Kansas-Nebraska Debate--Spicy Words Between Breckinridge and

Cutting--Diplomatic Card-Playing--Assistant-Secretary Thomas--The

Amoskeag Veterans.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

CRYSTALLIZATION OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY.

Formation of the Republican Party--The Election of Speaker--Mr.

Banks Triumphant--Division of the Spoils--A Protracted Session--

Assault on Horace Greeley--Territorial Delegates--The Senate--The

Virginia Senators--"Hale," of New Hampshire.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

POLITICAL STORM AND SOCIAL SUNRISE.

Sumner, of Massachusetts--The Assault on Sumner--Troublous Times--

Congressional Courtesies--Senatorial Wit--Convention of Old Soldiers

--Social Routine at the White House--Society Gatherings.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

GROWTH OF THE METROPOLIS.

The Crampton Difficulty--Unsuccessful French Mediation--The Diplomatic

Corps--Information for Publication--Mr. Buchanan in England--

Washington Hotels--The New Hall of the House.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE NORTHERN CHAMPIONS.

Fessenden, of Maine--The Sterling Claim--Social Festivities--Marriage

of Judge Douglas--Congressional Scenes--Secretary of War Davis--

Art and Literature--George W. Childs--J. R. Bartlett.

CHAPTER XL.

EXCITING PRESIDENTIAL CONTEST.

Democratic Candidates for the Presidency--James Buchanan--Stephen

A. Douglas--Delegates to the Cincinnati Convention--The Struggle--

The Disorganized Democracy United--Opposition Nominations--The

Republican Convention--Election of Mr. Buchanan--Counting the Votes.

CHAPTER XLI.

MISS LANE IN THE WHITE HOUSE.

President-elect Buchanan--Miss Harriet Lane--The New Cabinet and

the Message--The Newspaper Organs--Inauguration of President Buchanan

--The Inauguration Ball--The Dred Scott Decision--The Minority

Decision.

CHAPTER XLII.

DIPLOMACY, SOCIETY, AND CIVIL SERVICE.

Foreign Relations--Lord Napier, the British Minister--Sir William

Gore Ouseley--Society in Washington--A Fashionable Pretender--Civil

Service--Office Seeking--Choate's Handwriting--The Governors of

Kansas.

CHAPTER XLIII.

PRELUDE TO THE REBELLION.

Organization of the Senate--John Slidell, of Louisiana--Senator

Douglas Opposes the Administration--Ben Wade's Bon Mot--Meeting of

the House--Election of Speaker--Investigation of the Wolcott Attempts

at Bribery--Debates on the Admission of Kansas--Nocturnal Row in

the House--The North Victorious.

CHAPTER XLIV.

POLITICIANS, AUTHORS, AND HUMORISTS.

Wade, of Ohio--Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi--Johnson, of Arkansas

--Anthony, of Rhode Island--Trollope, of England--One of Mike

Walsh's Jokes--Albert Pike's Wake--The Sons of Malta.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS [omitted]

LIST OF AUTOGRAPHS

ANDREW JACKSON

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS

WILLIAM HARRIS CRAWFORD

EDWARD EVERETT

HENRY CLAY

JOHN CALDWELL CALHOUN

SILAS WRIGHT, JR.

DANIEL WEBSTER

THOMAS HART BENTON

RICHARD MENTOR JOHNSON

ALEXANDER HAMILTON STEPHENS

ANDREW STEVENSON

WILLIAM RUFUS KING

MARTIN VAN BUREN

TRISTRAM BURGESS

WILLIAM LEARNED MARCY

THOMAS CORWIN

WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON

THOMAS EWING

FRANKLIN PIERCE

RUFUS CHOATE

FELIX GRUNDY

CALEB CUSHING

STEPHEN ARNOLD DOUGLAS

JAMES KNOX POLK

HENRY STUART FOOTE

ZACHARY TAYLOR

ROBERT CHARLES WINTHROP

WILLIAM HENRY SEWARD

MILLARD FILLMORE

ROBERT JAMES WALKER

JEFFERSON DAVIS

JOHN JORDAN CRITTENDEN

THADDEUS STEVENS

JOHN TYLER

LEWIS CASS

GEORGE WASHINGTON

ABBOTT LAWRENCE

NATHANIEL PRENTISS BANKS

WINFIELD SCOTT

JOHN BUCHANAN FLOYD

PETER FORCE

HOWELL COBB

GEORGE BANCROFT

PERLEY'S REMINISCENCES.

VOL. I.

CHAPTER I.

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS BECOMES PRESIDENT.

John Quincy Adams was elected President of the United States by

the House of Representatives on February 9th, 1825. At the tenth

popular election for President, during the previous autumn, there

had been four candidates: Andrew Jackson, then a Senator from

Tennessee, who received ninety-nine electoral votes; John Quincy

Adams, of Massachusetts, then Secretary of State under President

Monroe, who received eighty-four electoral votes; William H.

Crawford, of Georgia, then Secretary of the Treasury, who received

forty-one electoral votes, and Henry Clay, of Kentucky, then Speaker

of the House of Representatives, who received thirty-seven electoral

votes--in all two hundred and sixty-one electoral votes. As neither

candidate had received the requisite majority of one hundred and

thirty-one electoral votes, the election of a President devolved

upon the House of Representatives, in which body each State would

have one vote. As the Constitution required that the choice of the

House be confined to the three highest candidates on the list of those

voted for by the electors, and as Mr. Clay was not one of the three,

he was excluded. Exercising, as he did, great control over his

supporters, it was within his power to transfer their strength to

either Adams or Jackson, thus deciding the election. The Legislature

of his State, Kentucky, had to a certain degree instructed him, by

passing a joint resolution declaring its preference for Jackson over Adams,

and Jackson always believed that had he accepted overtures made to

him, for the promise of the Department of State to Mr. Clay, that

would have insured his election.

Mr. Clay decided, however, to request his friends to support Mr.

Adams. To one of them he wrote: "Mr. Adams, you well know, I

should never have selected if at liberty to draw from the whole

mass of our citizens for a President. But there is no danger of

his election now or in time to come. Not so of his competitor, of

whom I cannot believe that killing two thousand five hundred

Englishmen at New Orleans qualifies for the various, difficult,

and complicated duties of the Chief Magistracy." Many believed,

however, that a bargain was made between Adams and Clay by which

the latter received, as a consideration for transferring to the

former the votes of Kentucky, Ohio, and Missouri, the position of

Secretary of State. The charge was distinctly made by Mr. George

Kremer, a Representative from Pennsylvania, and as positively denied

by Mr. Clay. General Jackson wrote to Major Lewis: "So, you see,

the Judas of the West has closed the contract and will receive the

thirty pieces of silver. His end will be the same. Was there ever

witnessed such a barefaced corruption in any country before?"

When the Senate and the House of Representatives met in joint

convention to count the electoral votes it was found (as every one

present had known for months) that no one had received the requisite

majority. This was formally announced by Vice-President Daniel D.

Tompkins, who also declared that John C. Calhoun, of South Carolina,

had been elected Vice-President. The Senate, headed by the Vice-

President and its Secretary, Charles Cutts, then retired, and the

House proceeded to ballot for President.

The election was by States. Each State delegation appointed one

of their number to act as chairman, collect their votes, and report

the result. Whoever in each delegation received the most votes

was reported as the choice of that delegation to the tellers--one

from each State--who sat in parties of twelve at two tables. Daniel

Webster, the teller of Massachusetts, was appointed by the tellers

at one of the tables to announce the result of the ballot, and John

Randolph, the teller of Virginia, was appointed to the same service

at the other table. The votes of most of the States were matters

of confident calculation, but those of others were in some degree

doubtful, and there was intense interest manifested as their votes

were counted. At last, when the twenty-four States had voted, Mr.

Webster announced, in his deep voice, that thirteen States had

voted for John Quincy Adams, seven States had voted for Andrew

Jackson, and four States had voted for William H. Crawford. Mr.

Speaker Clay then announced, in sonorous tones: "John Quincy Adams,

having received a majority of the votes cast, is duly elected

President of the United States for four years, from the 4th of

March next ensuing."

A shout arose from the occupants of the galleries, which Mr. McDuffie

promptly asked might be cleared. The vote was carried, and a young

man, who was Deputy Sergeant-at-Arms, mounting to the broad stone

cornice, which ran around the hall outside of the floor of the

galleries, but on a level with them, exclaimed, as he walked along:

"The Speaker orders the galleries to be cleared; all must retire.

Clear the galleries!" The command was obeyed, to the astonishment

of some of the foreign ministers present, who had been accustomed

to see armed guards at such assemblages, and often to witness their

unsuccessful attempts to move the populace. The House soon afterward

adjourned.

That evening President Monroe gave a public reception at the White

House, which had just been rebuilt after having been burned by the

British army--in 1814. The two candidates, Mr. Adams, the elect,

and General Jackson, the defeated, accidentally met in the East

Room. General Jackson, who was escorting a lady, promptly extended

his hand, saying pleasantly: "How do you do, Mr. Adams? I give

you my left hand, for the right, as you see, is devoted to the

fair. I hope you are very well, sir." All this was gallantly and

heartily said and done. Mr. Adams took the General's hand, and

said, with chilling coldness: "Very well, sir; I hope General

Jackson is well!" The military hero was genial and gracious, while

the unamiable diplomat was as cold as an iceberg.

The inauguration of Mr. Adams, on the 4th of March, 1825, was the

most imposing demonstration ever witnessed at Washington up to that

time. President Monroe called for his successor and they rode

together to the Capitol, escorted by the District uniformed militia

and by a cavalcade of citizens marshaled by Daniel Carroll, of

Duddington, General John Mason, General Walter Smith, and General

Walter Jones, four prominent residents. On reaching the Capitol

the President-elect was received with military honors by a battalion

of the Marine Corps. He was then escorted by a committee of Senators

to the Senate Chamber, where the oath of office was administered

to the Vice-President-elect, John C. Calhoun. The dignitaries

present then moved in procession to the hall of the House of

Representatives, on the floor of which were the Senators and

Representatives, the Supreme Court, the diplomatic corps, officers

of the army and navy, and many prominent officials, while the

galleries were filled with handsomely dressed ladies and gentlemen.

Mr. Adams read his inaugural address from the Speaker's desk, after

which the oath of office was administered to him by Chief Justice

Marshall. Salutes were fired from the Navy Yard and the Arsenal,

and the new President was escorted to his house, on F Street, where

he that evening received his friends, for whom generous supplies

of punch and wines were hospitably provided.

President Adams, although at heart instigated by a Puritan intolerance

of those who had failed to conform with himself, was a true patriot,

and as a public man was moved by the highest moral motives. He

was a great statesman in so far as the comprehension of the principles

of government and a mastery of a wide field of information were

concerned, but he could not practically apply his knowledge.

Instead of harmonizing the personal feuds between the friends of

those who had been candidates with him, he antagonized each one

with his Administration at the earliest possible moment, and before

the expiration of his first year in the White House he had wrecked

the Republican party left by Monroe, as completely as his father

had wrecked the Federal party established by Washington.

The President, when in London, had married Miss Louisa Catherine

Johnson. Her father was an American by birth, but just before the

Revolution he went to England, where he resided until after the

independence of the Colonies had been recognized. Mrs. Adams was

well educated, highly accomplished, and well qualified to preside

over the domestic affairs at the White House. She had four children

--three sons and one daughter--of whom one only, Mr. Charles Francis

Adams, survived her. It is related, as evidence of her good sense,

that on one occasion Mrs. Mason, of Analostan Island, called,

accompanied by two or three other ladies belonging to the first

families of Virginia, to enlist Mrs. Adams in behalf of her son-in-

law, Lieutenant Cooper (afterward Adjutant-General of the United

States Army, and subsequently of the Confederate forces), who wanted

to be detailed as an aide-de-camp on the staff of General Macomb.

Mrs. Adams heard their request and then replied: "Truly, ladies,

though Madames Maintenon and Pompadour are said to have controlled

the military appointments of their times, I do not think such

matters appertain to women; but if they did and I had any influence

with Mr. Adams, it should be given to Mrs. Scott, with whom I became

acquainted while traveling last summer."

&&&

Mr. Adams' private secretary was his son, John Adams, who soon made

himself very obnoxious to the friends of General Jackson. One

evening Mr. Russell Jarvis, who then edited the Washington _Telegraph_,

a newspaper which advocated Jackson's election, attended a "drawing

room" at the White House, escorting his wife and a party of visiting

relatives from Boston. Mr. Jarvis introduced them courteously,

and they then passed on into the East Room. Soon afterward they

found themselves standing opposite to Mr. John Adams, who was

conversing with the Rev. Mr. Stetson. "Who is that lady?" asked

Mr. Stetson. "That," replied Mr. John Adams, in a tone so loud

that the party heard it, "is the wife of one Russell Jarvis, and

if he knew how contemptibly he is viewed in this house they would

not be here." The Bostonians at once paid their respects to Mrs.

Adams and withdrew, Mr. Jarvis having first ascertained from Mr.

Stetson that it was Mr. John Adams who had insulted them. A few

days afterward Mr. Jarvis sent a note to Mr. John Adams, demanding

an explanation, by a friend of his, Mr. McLean. Mr. Adams told

Mr. McLean that he had no apology to make to Mr. Jarvis, and that

he wished no correspondence with him.

A week later Mr. John Adams went to the Capitol to deliver messages

from the President to each house of Congress. Having delivered

that addressed to the Speaker of the House of Representatives, he

was going through the rotunda toward the Senate Chamber, when he

was overtaken by Mr. Jarvis, who pulled his nose and slapped his

face. A scuffle ensued, but they were quickly parted by Mr. Dorsey,

a Representative from Maryland. President Adams notified Congress

in a special message of the occurrence, and the House appointed a

select committee of investigation. Witnesses were examined and

elaborate reports were drawn up, but neither the majority nor the

minority recommended that any punishment be inflicted upon Mr.

Jarvis.

Mr. John Adams was married, while his father occupied the White

House, to his mother's niece, Miss Mary Hellen, of Washington.

The ceremony was performed by Rev. Dr. Hawley, of St. John's Church,

and General Ramsey, who was one of the groomsmen, is authority for

the statement that the President, usually so grave and unsocial,

unbent for the nonce, and danced at the wedding ball in a Virginia

reel with great spirit.

The foreign diplomats were recognized as leaders in Washington

society, and one of the Secretaries of Legation created a sensation

by appearing on Pennsylvania Avenue mounted on a velocipede imported

from London. Pennsylvania Avenue was then bordered with scraggy

poplar trees, which had been planted under the direction of President

Jefferson.

Mr. Adams found the furniture of the White House in a dilapidated

condition. Thirty thousand dollars had been appropriated by Congress

for the purchase of new furniture during the Administration of Mr.

Monroe; but his friend, Colonel Lane, Commissioner of Public

Buildings, to whom he had intrusted it, became insolvent, and died

largely in debt to the Government, having used the money for the

payment of his debts, instead of procuring furniture. When a

appropriation of fourteen thousand dollars was made, to be expended

under the direction of Mr. Adams, for furniture, he took charge of

it himself. This was severely criticised by the Democratic press,

as was the purchase of a billiard table for the White House, about

which so much was said that Mr. John Adams finally paid the bill

from his own pocket.

Mrs. Adams won popularity at Washington by the graceful manner in

which she presided over the hospitalities of the White House. The

stiff formalities of the "drawing-rooms" of Mrs. Washington and

Mrs. John Adams, and the free-and-easy "receptions" of Mr. Jefferson's

daughters, had been combined by Mrs. Madison into what she christened

"levees", at which all ceremonious etiquette was banished. Mrs.

Monroe, who had mingled in the fashionable circles of London and

Paris, as well as of her native city of New York, had continued

these evening "levees," and Mrs. Adams, in turn, not only kept up

the custom, but improved the quality of the refreshments, which

were handed around on waiters by servants.

Mr. Adams used to rise between four and six o'clock, according to

the season, and either take a ride on horseback or walk to the

Potomac River, where he bathed, remaining in the water for an hour

or more in the summer. Returning to the White House, he read two

chapters of the Bible and then glanced over the morning papers

until nine, when he breakfasted. From ten until four he remained

in the Executive Office, presiding over Cabinet meetings, receiving

visitors, or considering questions of state. Then, after a long

walk, or a short ride on horseback, he would sit down to dine at

half-past five, and after dinner resume his public duties.

On one occasion Mr. Adams imperiled his life by attempting to cross

the Potomac in a small boat, accompanied by his son John and by

his steward, Michael Antoine Ginsta, who had entered his service

at Amsterdam in 1814. Intending to swim back, they had taken off

nearly all of their clothes, which were in the boat. When about

half-way across, a gust of wind came sweeping down the Potomac,

the boat filled with water, and they were forced to abandon it and

swim for their lives to the Virginia Shore. By taking what garments

each one had on, Antoine managed to clothe himself decently, and

started across the bridge to Washington. During his absence, Mr.

Adams and his son swam in the river, or walked to and fro on the

shore. At last, after they had been about three hours undressed,

Antoine made his appearance with a carriage and clothing, so they

were able to return to Washington. Mr. Adams purchased that day

a watch, which he gave Antoine to replace one which he had lost in

the boat and alluded to the adventure in his journal that night as

"a humiliating lesson and a solemn warning not to trifle with

danger." A few weeks later a Revolutionary veteran named Shoemaker,

went in to bathe at Mr. Adams' favorite spot, the Sycamores, was

seized with cramp, and was drowned. The body was not recovered

until the next morning while Mr. Adams was in the water; but the

incident did not deter him from taking his solitary morning baths,

which he regarded as indispensable to health. Mr. Adams took great

interest in arboriculture, and was a constant reader of Evelyn.

He had planted in the grounds of the White House the acorns of the

cork-oak, black walnuts, peach, plum, and cherry stones, apple and

pear seeds, and he watched their germination and growth with great

interest. A botanic garden was established under his patronage,

and naval officers were instructed to bring home for distribution

the seeds of such grains and vegetables as it might seem desirable

to naturalize. The seeds thus collected were carefully distributed

through members of Congress, and several important varieties of

vegetables were thus introduced. Down to the present day the yearly

distribution of seeds to rural communities is an important item of

Congressional duty.

Henry Clay was the _premier_ and the most important member of Mr.

Adams' cabinet. He evidently regarded the Department of State as

a stepping-stone to the Executive Mansion, and hoped that he would

be in time promoted, as Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, and John Quincy

Adams. The foreign policy of the Administration, which encouraged

the appointment of a Minister to represent the United States in

the Congress of American Republics at Panama, although in accordance

with the "Monroe Doctrine," was denounced as Federalism. Mr. Clay,

who had never been a Federalist, did not wish to be regarded as a

restorer of the old Federal party, and he accordingly began to

create the Whig party, of which he naturally became the leader.

Mr. Clay made a good Secretary of State, but his place was in

Congress, for he was formed by nature for a popular orator. He

was tall and thin, with a rather small head, and gray eyes, which

peered forth less luminously than would have been expected in one

possessing such eminent control of language. His nose was straight,

his upper lip long, and his under jaw light. His mouth, of generous

width, straight when he was silent, and curving upward at the

corners as he spoke or smiled, was singularly graceful, indicating

more than any other feature the elastic play of his mind. When he

enchained large audiences, his features were lighted up by a winning

smile, the gestures of his long arms were graceful, and the gentle

accents of his mellow voice were persuasive and winning. Yet there

has never been a more imperious despot in political affairs than

Mr. Clay. He regarded himself as the head-centre of his party--

_L'etat, c'est moi_--and he wanted everything utilized for his

advancement.

General Jackson was meanwhile being brought before the public,

under the direction of Aaron Burr, Martin Van Buren, and Edward

Livingston, as a "man of the people." They had persuaded him to

resign his seat in the Senate of the United States, where he might

have made political mistakes, and retire to his farm in Tennessee,

while they flooded the country with accounts of his military exploits

and his social good qualities. Daniel Webster told Samuel Breck,

as the latter records in his diary, that he knew more than fifty

members of Congress who had expended and pledged all they were

worth in setting up presses and employing other means to forward

Jackson's election.

John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, two of the three survivors of the

signers of the Declaration of Independence, passed hence on the

Fourth of July, 1826, the fiftieth anniversary of their signing

the Magna Charta of our Republic. Their names had been inseparably

connected in the minds and upon the lips of the people, as their

labors were united in bringing about the events of the Revolution

and its final triumph. Mr. Jefferson was the writer, Mr. Adams

the orator, of the Congress of '76. The one penned the Declaration

of Independence, the other was pronounced "the pillar of its support

and its ablest advocate and defender." Mr. Jefferson called Mr.

Adams "the Colossus of the Congress," the most earnest, laborious

member of the body, and its animating spirit. For the loss of

these men, though they fell as a ripe shock of corn falleth--both

having arrived at an advanced age--Mr. Adams over ninety--the whole

nation clothed itself in mourning.

CHAPTER II.

TRAVELING IN "YE OLDEN TIME."

The old stage route between Boston and New York, before John Quincy

Adams was President, passed through Worcester, Springfield, Hartford,

and Norwalk. Passengers paid ten dollars for a seat and were fifty-

six hours or more on the road. This gave way about 1825 to the

steamboat line via Providence, which for five dollars carried

passengers from Boston to New York in twenty-four hours.

Stage books for the Providence line were kept in Boston at offices

in different parts of the city, where those wishing to go the next

day registered their names. These names were collected and brought

to the central stage office in the Marlboro Hotel at ten o'clock

each night, where they were arranged into stage-loads, each made

up from those residing in the same part of the city. At four

o'clock in the morning a man started from the stage office in a

chaise to go about and wake up the passengers, that the stage need

not be kept waiting. The large brass door knockers were vigorously

plied, and sometimes quite a commotion was caused by "waking up

the wrong passenger."

In due time the stage made its appearance, with its four spirited

horses, and the baggage was put on. Trunks, which were diminutive

in size compared with those now used, were put on the rack behind,

securely strapped; valises and packages were consigned to the depths

of a receptacle beneath the driver's seat, and bandboxes were put

on the top. The back seat was generally given to ladies and elderly

gentlemen, while young men usually sought a seat on top of the

stage, by the side of the driver. When the passengers had been

"picked up," the stages returned to the stage office, where they

way-bills were perfected and handed to the drivers. As the Old

South clock was striking five, whips were cracked, and the coaches

started at the rate of ten miles an hour, stopping for breakfast

at Timothy Gay's tavern in Dedham, where many of the passengers

visited the bar to imbibe Holland gin and sugar-house molasses--a

popular morning beverage.

Breakfast over, away the stages went over the good turnpike road

at a rapid pace. Those who were fellow passengers, even if strangers

to one another, gradually entered into conversation, and generally

some one of them was able to impart information concerning the

route. Occasionally the stage would rattle into a village, the

driver giving warning blasts upon his long tin horn that he claimed

the right of way, and then dash up to a wayside inn, before which

would be in waiting a fresh team of horses to take the place of

those which had drawn the coach from the previous stopping-place.

Time was always afforded those passengers who desired to partake

of libations at the tavern bar, and old travelers used to see that

their luggage was safe.

Providence was in due time reached, and the procession of stages

whirled along the narrow street beneath the bluff, swaying heavily

with the irregularities of the road. The steamboats lay at India

Point, just below the town, where immense quantities of wood were

piled up, for each boat consumed between thirty and forty cords on

a trip through Long Island Sound.

The stages used to reach India Point about half-past eleven o'clock,

and the boat would start for New York precisely at twelve. There

were no state-rooms, the passengers occupying berths, and at the

dinner and supper the captain of the boat occupied the head of the

table, having seated near him any distinguished passengers.

Occasionally there was an opposition line with sharp rivalries,

and at one time a then rising New Yorker, Cornelius Vanderbilt,

carried passengers from New York to Boston for one dollar.

On arriving at New York, the passengers had to look out for their

luggage, and either engage hacks or hand-cartmen, who for twenty-

five cents would carry a trunk to any part of the city. The city

then, be it remembered, did not reach up Manhattan Island above

the vicinity of Broome or Spring Streets, although there were beyond

that the villages of Greenwich, Bloomingdale, Yorkville, and Harlem.

The City Hotel, on Broadway, just above Trinity Churchyard, Bunker's

Hotel, lower down, and the Washington Hotel, which occupied the

site of the Stewart building above the Park, were the principal

public houses. The Boston stages stopped at Hall's North American

Hotel, at the corner of Bayard Street and the Bowery, and there

were many boarding-houses where transient guests were accommodated.

From New York, travelers southward went by steamboat to Elizabethport,

where they were transferred to stages, and crossed New Jersey to

Bordentown on the Delaware River, where a steamer was in waiting

to transport them to Philadelphia. This was a long and fatiguing

day's journey, and a majority of travelers remained over a day in

Philadelphia, where the hotels were excellent and there were many

objects of attraction.

Leaving Philadelphia in a steamboat, passengers went down the

Delaware to New Castle, whence they crossed in stages to Frenchtown

on the Elk River, and there re-embarked on steamers, which took

them down and around to Baltimore, another long and fatiguing day's

trip. At each change from boat to stage, or from stage to boat,

passengers had to see that their luggage was transferred, and it

was generally necessary to give a quarter to the porter. Baggage

checks and the checking of baggage were then unknown.

Between Baltimore and Washington there were opposition lines of

stages and a good turnpike road. There had been, when I first went

over the road, some daring robberies by "road agents," and the mail

coaches were protected by a guard, who occupied a perch on the roof

over the boot and was armed with a blunderbuss. This weapon had

a funnel-shaped barrel, a flint lock, took about half a pint of

buckshot for a charge, and was capable of destroying a whole band

of robbers at once. In due time the flat, wide dome of the Capitol,

which resembled an inverted wash-bowl, was visible, and the stage

was soon floundering through the broad expanse of mud or of dust

known as Pennsylvania Avenue, taking passengers to the doors of

the hotels or boarding-houses which they had previously indicated.

When Congress first met at Washington there was but one hotel there

and one in Georgetown. Others were, however, soon erected, and

fifty-eight years ago there were half a dozen. The favorite

establishment was the Indian Queen Hotel, which occupied the site

of the present Metropolitan Hotel and was designated by a large

swinging sign upon which figured Pocahontas, painted in glaring

colors. The landlord, Jesse Brown, who used to come to the curbstone

to "welcome the coming guests," was a native of Havre-de-Grace and

had served his apprenticeship to tavern-keeping in Hagerstown and

in Alexandria. A glance at the travelers as they alighted and were

ushered by him into the house would enable him mentally to assign

each one to a room, the advantages of which he would describe ere

sending its destined occupant there under the pilotage of a colored

servant. When the next meal was ready the newly arrived guest was

met at the door of the dining-room by Mr. Brown, wearing a large

white apron, who escorted him to a seat and then went to the head

of the table, where he carved and helped the principal dish. The

excellencies of this--fish or flesh or fowl--he would announce as

he would invite those seated at the table to send up their plates

for what he knew to be their favorite portions; and he would also

invite attention to the dishes on other parts of the table, which

were carved and helped by the guests who sat nearest them. "I have

a delicious quarter of mutton from the Valley of Virginia," Mr.

Brown would announce in a stentorian tone, which could be heard

above the clatter of crockery and the din of steel knives and forks.

"Let me send you a rare slice, Mr. A." "Colonel B., will you not

have a bone?" "Mrs. C., send up your plate for a piece of the

kidney." "Mrs. D., there is a fat and tender mongrel goose at the

other end of the table." "Joe, pass around the sweet potatoes."

"Colonel E., will you help to that chicken-pie before you?"

The expense of living at the Indian Queen was not great. The price

of board was one dollar and seventy-five cents per day, ten dollars

per week, or thirty-five dollars per month. Transient guests were

charged fifty cents for breakfast, the same for supper, and seventy-

five cents for dinner. Brandy and whisky were placed on the dinner-

table in decanters, to be drink by the guests without additional

charge therefor. A bottle of real old Madeira imported into

Alexandria was supplied for three dollars; sherry, brandy, and gin

were one dollar and a half per bottle, and Jamaica rum one dollar.

At the bar toddies were made with unadulterated liquor and lump

sugar, and the charge was twelve and a half cents a drink.

On the Fourth of July, the 22d of February, and other holidays,

landlord Brown would concoct foaming egg-nogg in a mammoth punch-

bowl once owned by Washington, and the guests of the house were

all invited to partake. The tavern-desk was behind the bar, with

rows of large bells hanging by circular springs on the wall, each

with a bullet-shaped tongue, which continued to vibrate for some

minutes after being pulled, thus showing to which room it belonged.

The barkeeper prepared the "drinks" called for, saw that the bells

were answered, received and delivered letters and cards, and answered

questions by the score. He was supposed to know everybody in

Washington, where they resided, and at what hour they could be seen.

The city of Washington had then been called by an observing foreigner

"the city of magnificent distances," an appellation which was well

merited. There was a group of small, shabby houses around the Navy

Yard, another cluster on the river bank just above the Arsenal,

which was to have been the business centre of the metropolis, and

Pennsylvania Avenue, from the Capitol to Georgetown, with the

streets immediately adjacent, was lined with tenements--many of

them with shops on the ground floor. The Executive Departments

were located in four brick edifices on the corners of the square,

in the centre of which was the White House. The imposing building

now occupied by the Department of the Interior had not been begun

nor had the General Post-Office replaced a large brick structure

intended for a hotel, but which the pecuniary necessities of the

projector forced him to dispose of in a lottery before it was

completed. The fortunate ticket was held by minors, whose guardian

could neither sell the building nor finish it, and it remained for

many years in a dilapidated condition.

The Capitol was pronounced completed in 1825. The two wings, which

were the only portions of the building finished when the British

occupied Washington, were burned with their contents, including

the Congressional Library and some works of art. When Congress

was convened in special session after the invasion, the two Houses

assembled in the unfinished hotel previously mentioned, but soon

occupied a brick building erected for their temporary use, which

was afterward known as the Old Capitol Prison.

The tympanum of the eastern pediment of the Capitol was ornamented

by a historical group which Mr. John Quincy Adams designed when

Secretary of State. It was executed in marble by Luigi Persico,

an Italian sculptor, whose work gave such satisfaction to Mr. Adams

that he secured for him an order for the two colossal statues which

now flank the central doorway. War is represented by a stalwart

gymnast with a profuse development of muscle and a benign expression

of countenance, partially encased in ancient Roman armor, while

Peace is a matronly dame, somewhat advanced in life and heavy in

flesh, who carries an olive branch as if she desired to use it to

keep off flies.

The then recently completed _rotunda_ of the Capitol--Mr. Gales

took pains to have it called _rotundo_ in the _National Intelligencer_

--was a hall of elegant proportions, ninety-six feet in diameter

and ninety-six feet in height to the apex of its semicircular dome.

It had been decorated with remarkable historical bas-reliefs by

Cappellano, Gevelot, and Causici, three Italian artists--two of

them pupils of Canova. They undoubtedly possessed artistic ability

and they doubtless desired to produce works of historical value.

But they failed ignominiously. Their respective productions were

thus interpreted by Grizzly Bear, a Menominee chief. Turning to

the eastern doorway, over which there is represented the landing

of the Pilgrims, he said: "There Ingen give hungry white man corn."

Then turning to the northern doorway, over which is represented

William Penn making a treaty with the Indians, he said: "There

Ingen give white man land." Then turning to the western doorway,

over which is represented Pocahontas saving the life of Captain

Smith, he said: "There Ingen save white man's life." And then

turning to the Southern doorway, over which is represented Daniel

Boone, the pioneer, plunging his hunting-knife into the heart of

a red man while his foot rests on the dead body of another, he

said: "And there white man kill Ingen. Ugh!"

When Congress was in session, the rotunda presented a busy and

motley scene every morning prior to the convening of the two houses.

It was a general rendezvous, and the newspaper correspondents were

always in attendance to pick up the floating rumors of the day.

The visit of General Lafayette to Washington gave a great impetus

to Free-Masonry there. The corner-stone of a new Masonic Temple

was laid, and many of the leading citizens had taken the degrees,

when the rumored abduction of William Morgan was made the basis of

a political and religious anti-Masonic crusade. It was asserted

that Morgan, who had written and printed a book which professed to

reveal the secrets of Free-Masonry, had been kidnapped, taken to

Fort Niagara, and then plunged into the river, "with all his

imperfections on his head." Many well-informed persons, however,

are of the opinion that Morgan was hired to go to Smyrna, where he

lived some years, and then died; but his real or supposed assassination

awakened a profound popular indignation. Some good men who belonged

to the "mystic tie" felt it their duty to dissolve their connection

with it, and the Anti-Masonic party was at once got up by a goodly

number of hopeful political aspirants. As General Jackson and Mr.

Clay were both "Free and Accepted Masons," Mr. Adams had at first

some hopes that he might secure his own re-election as the Anti-

Masonic candidate.

A small theatre at Washington was occasionally opened by a company

of actors from Philadelphia, who used to journey every winter as

far south as Savannah, performing in the intermediate cities as

they went and returned. The Jeffersons, the Warrens, and the Burkes

belonged to this company, in which their children were trained for

histrionic fame, and President Adams first saw the elder Booth when

that tragedian accompanied one of these dramatic expeditions as

its brightest star. On another occasion he saw Edwin Forrest, then

unknown to fame, and enjoyed the finished acting of Cooper, as

Charles Surface, in the "School for Scandal." The popular performance

at that time was "Tom and Jerry, or Life in London," and the flash

sayings of Corinthian Tom and Bob Logic were quoted even in

Congressional debates.

The Friends, or Quakers, as "the world's people" call them, had a

society at Washington formed principally by the clerks of that

persuasion who had come from Philadelphia when the seat of government

was removed from there. Their harmony was, however, disturbed in

1827, when a number of the most influential among them left the

"Orthodox" or old belief and followed Elias Hicks, of New York,

who founded what has since been known as Hicksite Friends. The

Friends believed in a free gospel ministry, and did not recognize

either water-baptism or the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. At

their meetings the elders and preachers occupied a platform at one

end of the meeting-houses, the men sitting on unpainted benches on

one side and the women on the other. The congregation would sit

quietly, often for an hour, until the Spirit moved some preacher,

male or female, to speak or to offer prayer. There was no singing,

and often long intervals of silence. Marriages were solemnized at

the monthly meetings, the ceremony consisting simply of a public

acknowledgment by the man and woman, after due inquiry of their

right to be united. After they had stood up in meeting and publicly

taken one another to be man and wife, a certificate of the ceremony

was publicly read by one of the elders, and then signed by the

contracting parties and witnesses.

[Facsimile]

John Quincy Adams

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS--son of John Adams--was born at Braintree,

Massachusetts, July 11th, 1767; Minister to the Netherlands and

Prussia, 1794-1801; United States Senator, 1803-1808; Professor at

Harvard College, 1808-1809; Minister to Russia, 1809-1817; negotiating

the treaty of Ghent in 1815; Secretary of State, 1817-1825; President,

1825-1829; Representative in Congress, 1831, until stricken by

death in the Capitol, February 23d, 1848.

CHAPTER III.

JOURNALISM IN 1828.

Georgetown, now called "West Washington," was originally laid out

as a town in 1751, and settled by the Scotch agents of English

mercantile houses, whose vessels came annually to its wharves.

They brought valuable freights of hardware, dry goods, and wines,

and they carried back tobacco, raised in the surrounding country,

and furs, brought down the Potomac by Indian traders. There were

also lines of brigs and schooners running to New York, Boston,

Salem, Newburyport, and the West Indies. Two principal articles

of import were sugar and molasses, which were sold at auction on

the wharves. Business in these staples has been entirely superseded

by the coal and flour trade.

The main street of Georgetown was generally filled every week-day

with the lumbering Conestoga six-horse wagons, in which the farmers

of Maryland and Central Pennsylvania brought loads of wheat and of

corn, taking back dry goods, groceries, salt, and, during the

fishing season, fresh shad and herring. Another source of trade

was the Potomac River, which was navigable above Georgetown as far

as Cumberland in long, flat-bottomed boats, sharp at both ends,

called "gondolas." These boats were poled down the Potomac to the

Great Falls, twelve miles above Georgetown, where a canal with

locks was constructed, running around the falls and back to the

river. The same plan of avoiding the rapids was suggested by George

Washington, who was once president of the company. The canal was

finished in 1793, but it never yielded a sufficient revenue to pay

expenses.

The "gondolas" brought down considerable quantities of flour, corn,

pork, and iron, much of which was shipped at Georgetown to other

ports. During the year 1812 several hundred hogsheads of Louisiana

sugar were brought by way of the Mississippi, the Ohio, and the

Potomac Rivers to Georgetown. This was a realization of Washington's

idea that the city which he founded and which bore his name would

become an _entrepot_ for the products of the Mississippi Valley

destined for shipment abroad. He displayed his faith in this belief

by the purchase of wharf lots, which would not to-day bring what

he paid for them.

The Union Tavern at Georgetown was a well-patronized and fashionable

inn during the first quarter of the present century. Among the

distinguished men who were its guests were Louis Philippe, Count

Volney, Baron Humboldt, Fulton (the inventor), Talleyrand, Jerome

Bonaparte, Washington Irving, General St. Clair, Lorenzo Dow (the

eccentric preacher), Francis S. Key (author of the "Star Spangled

Banner"), with John Randolph and scores of other Congressmen, who

used to ride to and from the Capitol in a large stagecoach with

seats on the top and called the "Royal George."

When my mother was born in Georgetown, in 1799, the neighbors were

startled by the repeated firing of a heavily charged musket beneath

the window of her mother's room. It was a welcome-into-the-world

salute fired by "Old Yarrah," a very aged Mahometan, who had been

brought as a slave from Guinea to Georgetown, where my grandfather

had shown him some kindness, which he thus acknowledged after the

custom of his own people.

General Washington used to pass through Georgetown on his journeys

between the North and Mount Vernon, and I have heard my grandfather

describe the interest which he took when the "Federal City" was

located. On one occasion he rode over to visit David Burns, who

owned a farm on which the Executive Mansion and the Departments

now stand. Washington agreed with the Commissioners that what is

now Lafayette Square should be a reservation, but Burns disliked

to donate any more building lots for the public good. Finally

Washington lost his temper and left, saying, as he crossed the

porch: "Had not the Federal City been laid out here, you would

have died a poor tobacco planter." "Aye, mon!" retorted Burns, in

broad Scotch, "an' had ye nae married the widow Custis, wi' a' her

nagurs, you would hae been a land surveyor to-day, an' a mighty

poor ane at that." Ultimately, however, the obstinate old fellow

donated the desired square of ground.

When Major L'Enfant came to Georgetown to lay out the Federal

District he brought a letter of introduction to my grandfather,

who had a great deal of trouble in endeavoring to adjust the

difficulties between the fiery French officer and the Commissioners

appointed to govern the infant metropolis. The Major, who was very

imperious, claimed supreme authority, which the Commissioners would

not submit to. On one occasion, a Mr. Carroll had commenced the

erection of a large brick house, which Major L'Enfant found encroached

on one of the proposed streets. Summoning his chain bearers and

axmen, he demolished the trespassing structure and filled up the

cellar, against Mr. Carroll's earnest protests.

He was a favorite with Washington, but Jefferson disliked him on

account of his connection with the Society of the Cincinnati, and

availed himself of his difficulty with the Commissioners to discharge

him.

The Major then became an unsuccessful petitioner before Congress

for a redress of his real and fancied wrongs, and he was to be seen

almost every day slowly pacing the rotunda of the Capitol. He was

a tall, thin man, who wore, toward the close of his life, a blue

military surtout coat, buttoned quite to the throat, with a tall,

black stock, but no visible signs of linen. His hair was plastered

with pomatum close to his head, and he wore a napless high beaver

bell-crowned hat. Under his arm he generally carried a roll of

papers relating to his claim upon the Government, and in his right

hand he swung a formidable hickory cane with a large silver head.

A strict Roman Catholic, he received a home in the family of Mr.

Digges, near Washington, in whose garden his remains were interred

when he died.

Newspaper "organs" formed an important feature of the early political

machinery at Washington. Railroads, as well as the magnetic

telegraph, were then unknown, and it took two days or more for the

transmission of intelligence between the Federal Metropolis and

New York, while it was a week or two in reaching Portland, St.

Louis, New Orleans, or Savannah. This made it advisable for each

successive Administration to have a newspaper published at Washington

which would reliably inform the subordinate officials what was

being done and keep alive a sympathy between them and the President.

The _National Intelligencer_ was never devoted to Mr. Adams, as

its proprietor had a kind regard for Mr. Clay, but it was always

hostile to the election of General Jackson. Mr. Joseph Giles, its

editor, wrote ponderous leaders on the political questions of the

day, and occasionally reported, in short-hand, the speeches of

Congressional magnates. His partner, Colonel William Winstead

Seaton, was by trade a printer, and his generous hand was ever

ready to aid those of his fellow-craftsmen who were in destitute

circumstances--indeed, the superannuated compositors of the _National

Intelligencer_ always received "half pay." Coming here when

Washington was only just "staked out," he was honorably identified

with the growth of Washington City, and his administration as Mayor

is favorably spoken of by the citizens of all classes and parties.

The _National Intelligencer_ had been established as a Catholic

organ, with John Agg, an Englishman of great ability, as its editor,

and Richard Houghton, afterward the popular editor of the Boston

_Atlas_, as its Congressional reporter. In 1825 the paper was

purchased by Peter Force and became the "hand-organ" of all the

elements of opposition to General Jackson. Such abusive articles

and scurrilous remarks as the dignified _National Intelligencer_

would not publish appeared in the _National Journal_. Some of

these articles reflected upon Mrs. Jackson and gave great offense

to her husband, who was persuaded that they were inspired by

President Adams.

Matthew L. Davis, who was probably the most influential of Washington

correspondents, was a New York printer. He had entered political

life in 1790 and joined the Democratic party, which came into power

by the election of Jefferson as President and Burr as Vice-President.

Davis went to Washington shortly afterward, and was boasting that

the elevation of Mr. Jefferson was brought about solely by the

management of Tammany Hall. Mr. Jefferson was a philosopher, and

soon after caught a very large fly, calling the attention of Mr.

Davis to the remarkable fact of the great disproportion in size of

one portion of the insect to its body. Mr. Davis took the hint,

and left the President, in doubt as to whether Mr. Jefferson intended

the comparison to apply to New York or to him (Davis) as an

individual.

Mr. Davis was at one time wealthy, having cleared over one hundred

thousand dollars in the South American trade; but he became poor,

and for many years he was the correspondent at Washington of the

_Courier and Enquirer_, of New York, under the signature of "The

Spy in Washington." He was also the correspondent of the London

_Times_, under the signature of "The Genevese Traveler." On one

occasion Mr. Davis was presented to the British Minister at Washington

(Lord Ashburton) as the author of those letters in the _Times_.

"I am delighted to see you," said the Envoy. "They are extraordinary

letters. I have read them with great pleasure. I hope, sir, that

you are well paid by the _Times_. If not, sir, let me know it; I

will take care that you are paid handsomely." Mr. Davis begged

not to be misunderstood, and said that he was amply paid by the

_Times_. He received two guineas for each letter.

James Gordon Bennett in 1828, when in his thirtieth year, became

the Washington correspondent of the New York _Enquirer_, which was

then on the topmost round of the journalistic ladder. It is related

of him that during his stay in this position he came across a copy

of _Walpole's Letters_ and resolved to try the effect of a few

letters written in a similar strain. The truth of this is doubtful.

It is more probably that the natural talents of the man were now

unfettered, and he wrote without fear of censorship and with all

the ease which a sense of freedom inspires. He was naturally witty,

sarcastic and sensible. These letters were lively, they abounded

in personal allusions, and they described freely, not only Senators,

but the wives and daughters of Senators, and they established Mr.

Bennett's reputation as a light lance among the hosts of writers.

Major M. M. Noah was for many years a leading New York journalist,

who occasionally visited Washington, where he was always welcome.

Major Noah was born in Philadelphia, where he was apprenticed, as

he grew up, to learn the carver's trade, but he soon abandoned it

for political pursuits. Receiving the appointment of Consul to

Tunis, he passed several years in Northern Africa, and on his return

wrote a very clever book containing his souvenirs of travel. About

the year 1825 he conceived the idea of collecting the scattered

Jews and of rebuilding Jerusalem. Grand Island, in the Niagara

River, above Niagara falls, was designated as the rendezvous, and

Major Noah's proclamation, which he sent to all parts of the world,

created quite a sensation among the Children of Israel. He

subsequently was connected with the evening press of New York and

was then appointed to a Government office by President Jackson.

He was a man of fine personal appearance and great conversational

powers.

Another New York journalist, just coming before the public, was

Thurlow Weed, a tall man, with an altogether massive person. His

large head was at that time covered with dark hair, and he had

prominent features and gray eyes, which were watchful and overhung

by shaggy eyebrows. He was a man of great natural strength of

character, deep penetration as regards human nature, and a good

sense, judgment, and cheerfulness in his own characteristics which

conduced to respect and popularity. He was most happy in his

intercourse with men, for he had, when a mere youth, a geniality

and tact which drew all toward him, and it has been said that he

never forgot a face or a fact. There has never been a better

example of the good old stock of printer-editors, who seemed to

have an intuitive capacity for public affairs, and never to love

political success well enough to leave their newspapers in order

to pursue the glittering attraction of public life.

Among the other newspaper men in Washington were William Hayden,

Congressional reporter for the _National Intelligencer_, who

afterward succeeded Mr. Houghton as editor of the Boston _Atlas_;

Lund Washington, equally famed as a performer on the violin and

writer of short-hand; Samuel L. Knapp, a graduate of Dartmouth

College, who abandoned the law for journalism and corresponded with

the Boston _Gazette_, and James Brooks, a graduate of Waterville,

afterward the founder of the New York _Express_ and a Representative

in Congress, who was the correspondent of the Portland _Advertiser_

and other papers.

Prominent as an adopted citizen of Washington and as a personal

friend of President Adams was Dr. William F. Thornton, Superintendent

of the Patent Office, who had by personal appeals to his conquering

countrymen, in 1814, saved the models of patents from the general

conflagration of the public buildings. He was also a devoted lover

of horse-racing, and on one occasion, when he expected that a horse

of his would win the cup, Mr. Adams walked out to the race-course

to enjoy the Doctor's triumph, but witnessed his defeat. After

the death of Dr. Thornton and of his accomplished wife, it became

known that she was the daughter of the unfortunate Dr. Dodd, of

London, who was executed for forgery in 1777. Her mother emigrated

to Philadelphia soon afterward, under the name of Brodeau, and

brought her infant daughter with her. In Philadelphia she opened

a boarding-school, which was liberally patronized, as she had

brought excellent letters of recommendation and displayed great

ability as a teacher. The daughter grew up to be a lady remarkable

for her beauty and accomplishments and married Dr. Thornton, who

brought her to Washington in 1800.

Congress had placed on the statute-book stringent penal laws against

gambling, but they were a dead letter, unless some poor dupe made

a complaint of foul play, or some fleeced blackleg sought vengeance

through the aid of the Grand Jury; then the matter was usually

compounded by the repayment of the money. The northern sidewalks

of Pennsylvania Avenue between the Indian Queen Hotel and the

Capitol gate, was lined with faro banks, where good suppers were

served and well-supplied sideboards were free to all comers. It

was a tradition that in one of these rooms Senator Montford Stokes,

of North Carolina, sat down one Thursday afternoon to play a game

of brag with Mountjoy Bailey, then the Sergeant-at-Arms of the

Senate. That body had adjourned over, as was then its custom, from

Thursday until Monday, so the players were at liberty to keep on

with their game, only stopping occasionally for refreshments. The

game was continued Friday night and Saturday, through Saturday

night and all day Sunday and Sunday night, the players resting for

a snatch of sleep as nature became exhausted. Monday morning the

game was in full blast, but at ten o'clock Bailey moved an adjournment,

alleging that his official duties required his presence in the

Senate Chamber. Stokes remonstrated, but the Sergeant-at-Arms

persisted, and rose from the table, the Senator grumbling and

declaring that he had supposed that Stokes would have thus prematurely

broken up the game he would not have sat down to play with him.

Whist was regularly played at many of the "Congressional messes,"

and at private parties a room was always devoted to whist-playing.

Once when the wife of Henry Clay was chaperoning a young lady from

Boston, at a party given by one of his associates in the Cabinet,

they passed through the card-room, where Mr. Clay and other gentlemen

were playing whist. The young lady, in her Puritan simplicity,

inquired: "Is card-playing a common practice here?" "Yes," replied

Mrs. Clay, "the gentlemen always play when they get together."

"Don't it distress you," said the Boston maiden, "to have Mr. Clay

gamble?" "Oh! dear, no!" composedly replied the statesman's wife,

"he 'most always wins."

There were only a few billiard-rooms, mostly patronized by the

members of the foreign legations or visiting young men from the

Northern cities. Ten-pin alleys were abundant, and some of the

muscular Congressmen from the frontier would make a succession of

"ten strikes" with great ease, using the heaviest balls. Some of

the English residents organized a cricket club, and used to play

on a level spot in "the slashes," near where the British Legation

was afterward built, but the game was not popular, and no American

offered to join the club.

[Facsimile]

Your obedt servt.

William H. Crawford

William Harris Crawford was born in Virginia, February 24th, 1772;

was United States Senator 1807-1813; Minister to France, 1813-1815;

Secretary of War, 1815-1816; Secretary of the Treasury, 1816-1825;

Judge of the Northern Circuit Court of Georgia, 1827, until he died

at Elberton, Georgia, September 15th, 1834.

CHAPTER IV.

PROMINENT SENATORS OF 1827.

The old Senate Chamber, now used by the Supreme Court, was admirably

adapted for the deliberations of the forty-eight gentlemen who

composed the upper house of the Nineteenth Congress. Modeled after

the theatres of ancient Greece, it possessed excellent acoustic

properties, and there was ample accommodation in the galleries for

the few strangers who then visited Washington. The Senate used to

meet at noon and generally conclude its day's work by three o'clock,

while adjournments over from Thursday until the following Monday

were frequent.

John C. Calhoun was Vice-President of the United States, and

consequently President of the Senate--a position which was to him

very irksome, as he was forced to sit and dumbly listen to debates

in which he was eager to participate. He had been talked of by

some of the best men in the country as a candidate during the then

recent Presidential election, but the North had not given him any

substantial support. Regarding each Senator as an Ambassador from

a sovereign State, he did not believe that as Vice-President he

possessed the power to call them to order for words spoken in

debate. Senator John Randolph abused this license, and one day

commenced one of his tirades by saying: "_Mr. Speaker! I mean

Mr. President of the Senate and would-be President of the United

States, which God in His infinite mercy avert_," and then went on

in his usual strain of calumny and abuse.

Mr. Calhoun was tall, well-formed, without an ounce of superfluous

flesh, with a serious expression of countenance rarely brightened

by a smile, and with his black hair thrown back from his forehead,

he looked like an arch-conspirator waiting for the time to come

when he could strike the first blow. In his dress Mr. Calhoun

affected a Spartan simplicity, yet he used to have four horses

harnessed to his carriage, and his entertainments at his residence

on Georgetown Heights were very elegant. His private life was

irreproachable, although when Secretary of War under Mr. Monroe,

he had suffered obloquy because of a profitable contract, which

had been dishonestly awarded during his absence by his chief clerk

to that official's brother-in-law.

The prime mover of the Senate of that day was Martin Van Buren, of

New York, who was beginning to reap the reward of years of subservient

intrigues. Making the friends of Calhoun and of Crawford believe

that they had each been badly treated by the alliance between Adams

and Clay, he united them in the support of General Jackson, and

yet no one suspected him. When Mr. Van Buren had first been elected

to Congress, Rufus King, of his State, had said to G. F. Mercer,

also a member, "Within two weeks Van Buren will become perfectly

acquainted with the views and feelings of every member, yet no

man will know his."

This prediction was verified, and Mr. Van Buren soon became the

directing spirit among the friends of General Jackson, although no

one was ever able to quote his views. Taking Aaron Burr as his

political model, but leading an irreproachable private life, he

rose by his ability to plan and execute with consummate skill the

most difficult political intrigues. He was rather under the medium

height, with a high forehead, a quick eye, and pleasing features.

He made attitude and deportment a study, and when, on his leaving

the Senate, his household furniture was sold at auction it was

noticed that the carpet before a large looking-glass in his study

was worn and threadbare. It was there that he had rehearsed his

speeches.

The "Father of the Senate" was Nathaniel Macon, of North Carolina,

who had served in the ranks during the Revolution, and then in the

Senate of North Carolina. He was elected to the Second Congress,

taking his seat in October, 1791, and after having been re-elected

eleven times, generally without opposition, he was transferred to

the Senate in 1815, and re-elected until he declined in 1828, making

thirty-seven years of continuous Congressional service. At the

very commencement of his Congressional career he energetically

opposed the financial schemes of Alexander Hamilton, then Secretary

of the Treasury, and throughout his political career he was a

"strict, severe, and stringent" Democrat. Personally Mr. Macon

was a genial companion. He had none of that moroseness at the

fireside which often accompanies political distinction, and it was

said that at his home he was the kindest and most beloved of slave-

masters.

Colonel Thomas Hart Benton, who had earned the military title in

the army during the war with Great Britain, was a large, heavily

framed man, with black curly hair and whiskers, prominent features,

and a stentorian voice. He wore the high, black-silk neck-stock

and the double-breasted frock-coat of his youthful times during

his thirty years' career in the Senate, varying with the seasons

the materials of which his pantaloons were made, but never the

fashion in which they were cut. When in debate, outraging every

customary propriety of language, he would rush forward with blunt

fury upon every obstacle, like the huge, wild buffaloes then ranging

the prairies of his adopted State, whose paths, he used to subsequently

assert, would show the way through the passes of the Rocky Mountains.

He was not a popular speaker, and when he took the floor occupants

of the galleries invariably began to leave, while many Senators

devoted themselves to their correspondence. In private life Colonel

Benton was gentleness and domestic affection personified, and a

desire to have his children profit by the superior advantages for

their education in the District of Columbia kept him from his

constituents in Missouri, where a new generation of voters grew up

who did not know him and who would not follow his political lead,

while he was ignorant of their views on the question of slavery.

Senator Randolph, of Virginia, attracted the most attention on the

part of strangers. He was at least six feet in height, with long

limbs, an ill-proportioned body, and a small, round head. Claiming

descent from Pocahontas, he wore his coarse, black hair long, parted

in the middle, and combed down on either side of his sallow face.

His small, black eyes were expressive in their rapid glances,

especially when he was engaged in debate, and his high-toned and

thin voice would ring through the Senate Chamber like the shrill

scream of an angry vixen. He generally wore a full suit of heavy,

drab-colored English broadcloth, the high, rolling collar of his

surtout coat almost concealing his head, while the skirts hung in

voluminous folds about his knee-breeches and the white leather tops

of his boots. He used to enter the Senate Chamber wearing a pair

of silver spurs, carrying a heavy riding-whip, and followed by a

favorite hound, which crouched beneath his desk. He wrote, and

occasionally spoke, in riding-gloves, and it was his favorite

gesture to point the long index finger of his right hand at his

opponent as he hurled forth tropes and figures of speech at him.

Every ten or fifteen minutes, while he occupied the floor, he would

exclaim in a low voice, "Tims, more porter!" and the assistant

doorkeeper would hand him a foaming tumbler of potent malt liquor,

which he would hurriedly drink, and then proceed with his remarks,

often thus drinking three or four quarts in an afternoon. He was

not choice in his selection of epithets, and as Mr. Calhoun took

the ground that he did not have the power to call a Senator to

order, the irate Virginian pronounced President Adams "a traitor,"

Daniel Webster "a vile slanderer," John Holmes "a dangerous fool,"

and Edward Livingston "the most contemptible and degraded of beings,

whom no man ought to touch, unless with a pair of tongs." One day,

while he was speaking with great freedom of abuse of Mr. Webster,

then a member of the House, a Senator informed him in an undertone

that Mrs. Webster was in the gallery. He had not the delicacy to

desist, however, until he had fully emptied the vials of his wrath.

Then he set upon Mr. Speaker Taylor, and after abusing him soundly

he turned sarcastically to the gentleman who had informed him of

Mrs. Webster's presence, and asked, "Is Mrs. Taylor present also?"

Henry Clay was frequently the object of Mr. Randolph's denunciations,

which he bore patiently until the "Lord of Roanoke" spoke, one day,

of the reported alliance between the President and the Secretary

of State as the "coalition of Bilfil and Black George--the combination,

unheard of till then, of the Puritan and the blackleg." Mr. Clay

at once wrote to know whether he had intended to call him a political

gambler, or to attach the infamy of such epithets to his private

life. Mr. Randolph declined to give any explanation, and a duel

was fought without bloodshed.

Mr. Randolph, on another occasion, deliberately insulted Mr. James

Lloyd, one of "the solid men of Boston," then a Senator from

Massachusetts, who had, in accordance with the custom, introduced

upon the floor of the Senate one of his constituents, Major Benjamin

Russell, the editor of the _Columbian Sentinel_. The sight of a

Federal editor aroused Mr. Randolph's anger, and he at once insolently

demanded that the floor of the Senate be cleared, forcing Major

Russell to retire. Mr. Lloyd took the first opportunity to express

his opinion of this gratuitous insult, and declared, in very forcible

language, that, as he had introduced Major Russell on the floor,

he was responsible therefor. Mr. Randolph indulged in a little

gasconade, in which he announced that his carriage was waiting at

the door to convey him to Baltimore, and at the conclusion of his

remarks he left the Senate Chamber and the city. Mr. Calhoun, who

had not attempted to check Mr. Randolph, lamented from the chair

that anything should have happened to mar the harmony of the Senate,

and again declared that he had not power to call a Senator to order,

nor would he for ten thousand worlds look like a usurper.

Senator Tazewell, Mr. Randolph's colleague, was a first-class

Virginia abstractionist and an avowed hater of New England. Dining

one day at the White House, he provoked the President by offensively

asserting that he had "never known a Unitarian who did not believe

in the sea-serpent." Soon afterward Mr. Tazewell spoke of the

different kinds of wines, and declared that Tokay and Rhenish wine

were alike in taste. "Sir," said Mr. Adams, "I do not believe that

you ever drank a drop of Tokay in your life." For this remark the

President subsequently sent an apology to Mr. Tazewell, but the

Virginia Senator never forgot or forgave the remark.

William Henry Harrison, a tall, spare, gray-haired gentleman, who

had gone from his Virginia home into the Western wilderness as aid-

de-camp to General Anthony Wayne, had been elected a Senator from

the State of Ohio, but probably never dreamed that in years to come

he would be elected President by an immense majority, with John

Tyler on the ticket as Vice-President. Colonel Richard M. Johnson,

of Kentucky, had, however, begun to electioneer for the Democratic

nomination for the Vice-Presidency, basing his claim upon his having

shot Tecumseh at the battle of the Thames, and he was finally

successful. He was of medium size, with large features, and light

auburn hair, and his private life was attacked without mercy by

his political opponents.

John Henry Eaton, of Tennessee, was General Jackson's henchman,

who had come to the Senate that he might better electioneer for

his old friend and commander. William Hendricks, a Senator from

Indiana, was the uncle of Thomas A. Hendricks, of a subsequent

political generation. The New Hampshire Senators were Levi Woodbury

and John Bell, men of decided ability and moral worth. Georgia

supplied a polished and effective orator in J. McPherson Berrien.

Vermont was represented by portly and good-looking Dudley Chase,

who was the uncle of Chief Justice Chase, and by Horatio Seymour,

of Middlebury. Maine's stalwart, blue-eyed Senator, Albion Keith

Parris, was said to have filled more public offices than any other

man of his age, and his colleague, John Holmes, although rude in

speech and at times vulgar, was the humorous champion of the North.

Ever on the watch for some unguarded expression by a Southern

Senator, no sooner would one be uttered than he would pounce upon

it and place the speaker in a most uncomfortable position. John

Tyler one day thought that he could annoy Mr. Holmes, and asked

him what had become of that political firm once mentioned in debate

by John Randolph as "James Madison, Felix Grundy, John Holmes, and

the Devil." Mr. Holmes rose at once. "I will tell the gentleman,"

said he, "what has become of the firm. The first member is dead,

the second has gone into retirement, the third now addresses you,

and the last has gone over to the Nullifiers, and is now electioneering

among the gentleman's constituents. So the partnership is legally

dissolved."

The Senators were rather exclusive, those from the South assuming

the control of "good society," which was then very limited in its

extent and simple in its habits. Few Senators and Representatives

brought their wives to cheer their Congressional labors, and a

parlor of ordinary size would contain all of those who were accustomed

to attend social gatherings. The diplomats, with the officers of

the army and navy stationed at headquarters, were accompanied by

their wives, and there were generally a few visitors of social

distinction.

The Washington assemblies were very ceremonious and exclusive.

Admission was obtained only by cards of invitation, issued after

long consultations among the Committeemen, and, once inside the

exclusive ring, the beaux and belles bowed beneath the disciplinary

rule of a master of ceremonies. No gentleman, whatever may have

been his rank or calling, was permitted on the floor unless in full

evening dress, with the adornment of pumps, silk stockings, and

flowing cravat, unless he belonged to the army or the navy, in

which case complete regimentals covered a multitude of sins. The

ball, commencing with the stroke of eight precisely, opened with

a rollicking country dance, and the lady selected for the honor of

opening the festivities was subsequently toasted as the reigning

divinity of fashion for the hour. The "_minuet de la cour_" and

stately "quadrille," varied by the "basket dance," and, on exceptional

occasions, the exhilarating "cheat," formed the staple for saltatorial

performance, until the hour of eleven brought the concluding country

dance, when a final squad of roysterers bobbed "up the middle and

down again" to the airs of "Sir Roger de Coverly" or "Money Musk."

The music was furnished by colored performers on the violin, except

on great occasions, when some of the Marine Band played an

accompaniment on flutes and clarinets. The refreshments were iced

lemonade, ice-cream, port wine negus, and small cakes, served in

a room adjoining the dancing-hall, or brought in by the colored

domestics, or by the cavalier in his own proper person, who ofttimes

appeared upon the dancing-floor, elbowing his way to the lady of

his adoration, in the one hand bearing well-filled glasses, and in

the other sustaining a plate heaped up with cake.

The costume of the ladies was classic in its scantiness, especially

at balls and parties. The fashionable ball dress was of white

India crape, and five breadths, each a quarter of a yard wide, were

all that was asked for to make a skirt, which only came down to

the ankles, and was elaborately trimmed with a dozen or more rows

of narrow flounces. Silk or cotton stockings were adorned with

embroidered "clocks," and thin slippers were ornamented with silk

rosettes and tiny buckles.

Those gentlemen who dressed fashionably wore "Bolivar" frock-coats

of some gay-colored cloth, blue or green or claret, with large

lapels and gilded buttons. Their linen was ruffled; their "Cossack"

trousers were voluminous in size, and were tucked into high "Hessian"

boots with gold tassels. They wore two and sometimes three

waistcoats, each of different colors, and from their watch-pockets

dangled a ribbon, with a bunch of large seals. When in full dress,

gentlemen wore dress-coats with enormous collars and short waists,

well-stuffed white cambric cravats, small-clothes, or tight-fitting

pantaloons, silk stockings, and pumps.

Duels were very common, and a case of dueling pistols was a part

of the outfit of the Southern and Western Congressmen, who used to

spend more or less time in practicing. Imported pistols were highly

prized, but the best weapons were made by a noted Philadelphia

gunsmith named Derringer, who gave his name to a short pistol of

his invention to be carried in the trouser's pocket for use in

street fights. Some of the dueling pistols were inlaid with gold,

and they all had flint-locks, as percussion caps had not been

invented, nor hair triggers.

[Facsimile]

Edward Everett.

EDWARD EVERETT. Born in Massachusetts April 11th, 1794; was a

Unitarian clergyman, and a professor at Harvard College, until

elected a Representative from Massachusetts, 1825-1835; Governor

of Massachusetts, 1836-1840; Minister to Great Britain, 1841-1843;

President of Harvard College, 1846-1849; Secretary of State under

President Fillmore, 1852-1853; United States Senator from Massachusetts,

1853-1854; died at Boston, January 15th, 1865.

CHAPTER V.

PROMINENT REPRESENTATIVES OF 1827.

The Hall of the House of Representatives (now used as a National

Gallery of Statuary) was a reproduction of the ancient theatre,

magnificent in its effect, but so deficient in acoustic properties

that it was unfit for legislative occupation. It was there that

Henry Clay, then Speaker of the House, had welcomed General Lafayette

as "the Nation's Guest." The contrast between the tall and graceful

Kentuckian, with his sunny smile and his silver-toned voice, and

the good old Marquis, with his auburn wig awry, must have been

great. His reply appeared to come from a grateful heart, but it

was asserted that the Speaker had written both his own words of

welcome and also Lafayette's acknowledgment of them, and it became

a subject of newspaper controversy, which was ended by the publication

of a card signed "H. Clay," in which he positively denied the

authorship, although he admitted that he had suggested the most

effective sentences.

Ladies had been excluded from the galleries of the House originally,

in accordance with British precedent. But one night at a party a

lady expressed her regret to Hon. Fisher Ames, of Massachusetts,

that she could not hear the arguments, especially his speeches.

Mr. Ames gallantly replied that he knew of no reason why ladies

should not hear the debates. "Then," said Mrs. Langdon, "if you

will let me know when next you intend to speak, I will make up a

party of ladies and we will go and hear you." The notice was given,

the ladies went, and since then Congressional orators have always

had fair hearers--with others perhaps not very fair.

The House was really occupied, during the administration of John

Quincy Adams, in the selection of his successor. At first the

political outlook was rather muddled, although keen eyes averred

that they could perceive, moving restlessly to and fro, the indefinite

forms of those shadows which coming events project. Different

seers interpreted the phantasmal appearances in different fashions,

and either endeavored to form novel combinations, or joined in

raking common sewers for filth wherewith to bespatter those who

were the rivals of their favorite candidates. It was then that

Congressional investigating committees became a part of the political

machinery of the day. The accounts of President Adams when, in

former years, he was serving the country in Europe as a diplomatist;

the summary execution of deserters by order of General Jackson,

when he commanded the army in Florida; the bills for refurnishing

the White House; the affidavits concerning the alleged bargain

between the President and his Secretary of State, and the marriage

of General Jackson to Mrs. Robards before she had been divorced

from Mr. Robards, were, with many other scandals, paraded before

the public.

Daniel Webster had been recognized in advance as the leader of the

House by his appointment as chairman of the committee to inform

Mr. Adams that he had been elected President. This Mr. Webster

did verbally, but Mr. Adams had prepared a written reply, which

had been copied by a clerk and bore his autograph signature.

Mr. Webster was at that period of his life the embodiment of health

and good spirits. His stalwart frame, his massive head, crowned

with a wealth of black hair, his heavy eye-brows, overhanging his

great, expressive, and cavernous eyes, all distinguished him as

one of the powers of the realm of the intellect--one of the few to

whom Divinity has accorded a royal share of the Promethian fire of

genius. His department was ceremonious, and he made a decided

impression on strangers. When Jenny Lind first saw him, she was

much impressed by his majestic appearance, and afterward exclaimed,

"I have seen a man!"

His swarthy complexion gained him the epithet of "Black Dan." He

was very proud of his complexion, which he inherited from his

grandmother, Susannah Bachelder (from whom the poet Whittier also

claimed descent), and he used to quote the compliment paid by

General Stark, the hero of Bennington, to his father, Colonel

Ebenezer Webster: "He has the black Bachelder complexion, which

burnt gunpowder will not change." Although majestic in appearance,

Mr. Webster was not really a very large man; in height he was only

about five feet ten inches. His head looked very large, but he

wore a seven and five-eighth hat, as did Mr. Clay, whose head

appeared much smaller. His shoulders were very broad and his chest

was very full, but his hips and lower limbs were small.

Mr. Webster had his first great sorrow then. His eldest, and at

that time his only, daughter died at Washington, and the next year

her mother followed her to the grave. This estimable lady, whose

maiden name was Grace Fletcher, was one year older than Mr. Webster,

and was the daughter of a New Hampshire clergyman. While on her

way to Washington with her husband, the December after he had been

re-elected United States Senator by a nearly two-thirds vote in

each branch of the "General Court" of Massachusetts, she was taken

fatally ill at the house of Mr. Webster's friend, Dr. Perkins,

where they were guests.

Mr. Webster had begun at that time to be disturbed about his money

matters, although he should have been in a prosperous pecuniary

condition. His professional income could not have been less than

twenty thousand dollars a year, and he had just received seventy

thousand dollars as his five per cent. fee as counsel for the

claimants before the Commissioners on Spanish Claims, but he had

begun to purchase land and was almost always harassed for ready

money.

Edward Everett, who was a member of the Massachusetts delegation

in the House, had won early fame as a popular preacher of the

gospel, as a professor at Harvard College, and as the editor of

the _North American Review_. Placed by his marriage above want,

he became noted for his profound learning and persuasive eloquence.

At times he was almost electrical in his utterances; his reasoning

was logical and luminous, and his remarks always gave evidence of

careful study. As a politician Mr. Everett was not successful.

The personification of self-discipline and dignity, he was too much

like an intellectual icicle to find favor with the masses, and he

was deficient in courage when any bold step was to be taken.

George McDuffie, who represented the Edgefield District of South

Carolina, had been taken from labor in a blacksmith's shop by Mr.

Calhoun and became the grateful champion of his patron in the House.

He was a spare, grim-looking man, who was an admirer of Milton,

and who was never known to jest or to smile. As a debater he had

few equals in the House, but he failed when, during the discussion

of the Panama Mission question, he opened his batteries upon Mr.

Webster. The "expounder of the Constitution" retorted with great

force, reminding the gentleman from South Carolina that noisy

declamation was not logic, and that he should not apply coarse

epithets to the President, who could not reply to them. Mr. Webster

then went on to say that he would furnish the gentleman from South

Carolina with high authority on the point to which he had objected,

and quoted from a speech by Mr. Calhoun which effectively extinguished

Mr. McDuffie.

Tristram Burgess, of Rhode Island, who had a snowy head and a Roman

nose, was called "the bald eagle of the House." Although under

fifty years of age, his white hair and bent form gave him a

patriarchal look and added to the effect of his fervid eloquence

and his withering sarcasm. A man of iron heart, he was ever anxious

to meet his antagonists, haughty in his rude self-confidence, and

exhaustive in the use of every expletive of abuse permitted by

parliamentary usage. In debate he resembled one of the old soldiers

who fought on foot or on horseback, with heavy or light arms, a

battle-axe or a spear. The champion of the North, he divided the

South and thrashed and slashed as did old Horatius, when with his

good sword he stood upon the bridge and with his single arm defended

Rome.

George Kremer, of Pennsylvania, was probably the most unpopular

man in the House. An anonymous letter had appeared just before

the election of President [Adams] by the Representatives denouncing

an "unholy coalition" between Mr. Adams and Mr. Clay, by which the

support of the friends of the latter had been transferred to the

former, "as the planter does his negroes, or the farmer his team

and horses." Mr. Clay at once published a card, over his signature,

in which he called the writer "a base and infamous calumniator, a

dastard, and a liar." Mr. Kremer replied, admitting that he had

written the letter, but in such a manner that his political friends

were ashamed of his cowardice, while the admirers of Mr. Clay were

very indignant--the more so as they suspected that Mr. James Buchanan

had instigated the letter.

Mr. Henry W. Dwight, of Massachusetts, a good specimen of "a sound

mind in a sound body," gave great attention to the appropriation

bills, and secured liberal sums for carrying on the various

departments of the Government. His most formidable antagonist was

a self-styled reformer and physical giant, Mr. Thomas Chilton, of

Kentucky, who had been at one period of his life a Baptist preacher.

He declared on the floor in debate that he was pledged to his

constituents to endeavor to retrench the expenses of the General

Government, to diminish the army and navy, to abridge the number

of civil and diplomatic officials, and, above all, to cut down the

pay of Congressmen. He made speeches in support of all these

"reforms," but did not succeed in securing the discharge of a

soldier, a sailor, a diplomatist, or a clerk, neither did he reduce

the appropriations one single cent. The erratic Mr. David Crockett

was then a member of the House, but had not attracted public

attention, although the Jackson men were angry because he, one of

Old Hickory's officers in the Creek War, was a devoted adherent of

Henry Clay for the Presidency. One of his colleagues in the

Tennessee delegation was Mr. James K. Polk, a rigid and uncompromising

Presbyterian, a political disciple of Macon, and a man of incorruptible

honesty.

Prominent among the Representatives from the State of New York were

Messrs. Gulian C. Verplanck and Thomas J. Oakley, members of the

legal profession, who were statesmen rather than politicians. Mr.

George C. Washington, of Maryland, was the great-nephew of "the

Father of his country," and had inherited a portion of the library

at Mount Vernon, which he subsequently sold to the Boston Athenaeum.

Messrs. Elisha Whittlesey and Samuel Vinton, Representatives from

Ohio, were afterwards for many years officers of the Federal

Government and residents at Washington. Mr. Jonathan Hunt, of

Vermont, a lawyer of ability, and one of the companions chosen by

Mr. Webster, was the father of that gifted artist, William Morris

Hunt, whose recent death was so generally regretted. Mr. Silas

Wright, of New York, was then attracting attention in the Democratic

party, of which he became a great leader, and which would have

elected him President had he not shortened his life by intemperance.

He was a solid, square-built man, with an impassive, ruddy face.

He claimed to be a good farmer, but no orator, yet he was noted

for the compactness of his logic, which was unenlivened by a figure

of speech or a flight of fancy.

The Supreme Court then sat in the room in the basement of the

Capitol, now occupied as a law library. It has an arched ceiling

supported by massive pillars that obstruct the view, and is very

badly ventilated. But it is rich in traditions of hair-powder,

queues, ruffled shirts, knee-breeches, and buckles. Up to that

time no Justice had ever sat upon the bench in trousers, nor had

any lawyer ventured to plead in boots or wearing whiskers. Their

Honors, the Chief Justice and the Associate Justices, wearing silk

judicial robes, were treated with the most profound respect. When

Mr. Clay stopped, one day, in an argument, and advancing to the

bench, took a pinch of snuff from Judge Washington's box, saying,

"I perceive that your Honor sticks to the Scotch," and then proceeded

with his case, it excited astonishment and admiration. "Sir," said

Mr. Justice Story, in relating the circumstance to a friends, "I

do not believe there is a man in the United States who could have

done that but Mr. Clay."

Chief Justice John Marshall, who had then presided in the Supreme

Court for more than a quarter of a century, was one of the last

survivors of those officers of the Revolutionary Army who had

entered into civil service. He was a tall, gaunt man, with a small

head and bright black eyes. He used to wear an unbrushed long-

skirted black coat, a badly fitting waistcoat, and knee-breeches,

a voluminous white cambric cravat, generally soiled, and black

worsted stockings, with low shoes and silver buckles. When upward

of seventy years of age he still relished the pleasures of the

quoit club or the whist table, and to the last his right hand never

forgot its cunning with the billiard cue.

Nor did the Chief Justice ever lose his relish for a joke, even at

his own expense. In the Law Library one day he fell from a step-

ladder, bruising himself severely and scattering an armful of books

in all directions. An attendant, full of alarm, ran to assist him,

but his Honor drily remarked, "That time I was completely floored."

Bushrod Washington, who had been appointed to the Supreme Court by

President John Adams, was by inheritance the owner of Mount Vernon,

where his remains now lie, near those of his illustrious uncle,

George Washington. He was a small, insignificant-looking man,

deprived of the sight of one eye by excessive study, negligent of

dress, and an immoderate snuff-taker. He was a rigid disciplinarian

and a great stickler for etiquette, and on one occasion he sat for

sixteen hours without leaving the bench. He was also a man of rare

humor.

Christmas was the popular holiday season at Washington sixty years

ago, the descendants of the Maryland Catholics joining the descendants

of the Virginia Episcopalians in celebrating the advent of their

Lord. The colored people enjoyed the festive season, and there

was scarcely a house in Washington in which there was not a well-

filled punch bowl. In some antique silver bowls was "Daniel Webster

punch," made of Medford rum, brandy, champagne, arrack, menschino,

strong green tea, lemon juice, and sugar; in other less expensive

bowls was found a cheaper concoction. But punch abounded everywhere,

and the bibulous found Washington a rosy place, where jocund mirth

and joyful recklessness went arm in arm to flout vile melancholy,

and kick, with ardent fervor, dull care out of the window. Christmas

carols were sung in the streets by the young colored people, and

yule logs were burned in the old houses where the fireplaces had

not been bricked up.

[Facsimile]

With great respect

I am yrs. v. truly. [?]

H. Clay

HENRY CLAY, born in Virginia, April 12th, 1777; United States

Senator from Kentucky, 1806-1807, and again 1810-1811; Representative

from Kentucky, 1811-1814; negotiator of the treaty of Ghent, 1815;

Representative in Congress, 1815-1820, and 1823-1825; Secretary of

State under President Adams, 1825-1829; United States Senator from

Kentucky, 1831-1842, and 1844, until he died at Washington City,

June 29th, 1852.

CHAPTER VI.

THE POLITICAL MACHINE.

As the time for another Presidential election approached, the

friends of General Jackson commenced active operations in his

behalf. The prime mover in the campaign was General John Henry

Eaton, then a Senator from Tennessee. He had published in 1818 a

brief life of the hero of New Orleans, which he enlarged in 1824

and published with the title, "The Life of Andrew Jackson, Major-

General in the Service of the United States, comprising a History

of the War in the South from the Commencement of the Creek Campaign

to the Termination of Hostilities Before New Orleans." The facts

in it were obtained from General Jackson and his wife, but every

incident of his life calculated to injure him in the public estimation

was carefully suppressed. It was, however, the recognized text-

book for Democratic editors and stump speakers, and although entirely

unreliable, it has formed the basis for the lives of General Jackson

since published.

President Adams enjoined neutrality upon his friends but some of

them, acting with Democrats who were opposed to the election of

General Jackson, had published and circulated, as an offset to

General Eaton's book, a thick pamphlet entitled, "Reminiscences;

or, an Extract from the Catalogue of General Jackson's Youthful

Indiscretions, between the Age of Twenty-three and Sixty," which

contained an account of Jackson's fights, brawls, affrays, and

duels, numbered from one to fourteen. Broadsides, bordered with

wood-cuts of coffins, and known as "coffin hand-bills," narrated

the summary and unjust execution as deserters of a number of

militiamen in the Florida campaign whose legal term of service had

expired. Another handbill gave the account of General Jackson's

marriage to Mrs. Robards before she had been legally divorced from

her husband.

General Jackson's friends also had printed and circulated large

editions of campaign songs, the favorite being "The Hunters of

Kentucky," which commenced:

"You've heard, I s'pose of New Orleans,

'Tis famed for youth and beauty,

There're girls of every hue, it seems,

From snowy white to sooty,

Now Packenham had made his brags,

If he that day was lucky,

He'd have those girls and cotton-bags

In spite of old Kentucky.

But Jackson, he was wide awake,

And was not scared at trifles,

For well he knew Kentucky's boys,

With their death-dealing rifles.

He led them down to cypress swamp,

The ground was low and mucky,

There stood John Bull in martial pomp,

And here stood old Kentucky.

"Oh! Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky!"

After a political campaign of unprecedented bitterness, General

Jackson was elected, receiving one hundred and seventy-eight

electoral votes against eighty-three cast for John Quincy Adams,

and so a new chapter was commenced in the social as well as the

political chronicles of the National Capital. Those who had known

the Presidential successors of Washington as educated and cultivated

gentlemen, well versed in the courtesies of private life and of

ceremonious statesmanship, saw them succeeded by a military chieftain,

whose life had been "a battle and a march," thickly studded with

personal difficulties and duels; who had given repeated evidences

of his disregard of the laws when they stood in the way of his

imperious will; and who, when a United States Senator, had displayed

no ability as a legislator. His election was notoriously the work

of Martin Van Buren, inspired by Aaron Burr, and with his inauguration

was initiated a sordidly selfish political system entirely at

variance with the broad views of Washington and of Hamilton.

It was assumed that every citizen had his price; that neither virtue

nor genius was proof against clever although selfish corruption;

that political honestly was a farce; and that the only way of

governing those knaves who elbowed their way up through the masses

was to rule them by cunning more acute than their own and knavery

more subtle and calculating than theirs.

Before leaving his rural home in Tennessee, General Jackson had

been afflicted by the sudden death of his wife. "Aunt Rachel," as

Mrs. Jackson was called by her husband's personal friends, had

accompanied him to Washington when he was there as a Senator from

Tennessee. She was a short, stout, unattractive, and uneducated

woman, though greatly endeared to General Jackson. While he had

been in the army she had carefully managed his plantation, his

slaves, and his money matters, and her devotion to him knew no

bounds. Her happiness was centered in his, and it was her chief

desire to smoke her corn-cob pipe in peace at his side. When told

that he had been elected President of the United States, she replied,

"Well, for Mr. Jackson's sake I am glad of it, but for myself I am

not." A few weeks later she was arrayed for the grave in a white

satin costume which she had provided herself with to wear at the

White House. After her funeral her sorrow-stricken husband came

to Washington with a stern determination to punish those who had

maligned her during the preceding campaign. Having been told that

President Adams had sanctioned the publication of the slanders, he

did not call at the White House, in accordance with the usage, but

paid daily visits to old friends in the War Department. Mr. Adams,

stung by this neglect, determined not to play the part of the

conquered leader of the inauguration, and quietly removed to the

house of Commodore Porter, in the suburbs, on the morning of the

3d of March.

The weather on the 4th of March, 1829, was serene and mild, and at

an early hour Pennsylvania Avenue, then unpaved, with a double row

of poplar trees along its centre, was filled with crowds of people,

many of whom had journeyed immense distances on foot. The officials

at Washington, who were friends of Mr. Adams, had agreed not to

participate in the inaugural ceremonies, and the only uniformed

company of light infantry, commanded by Colonel Seaton, of the

_National Intelligencer_, had declined to offer its services as an

escort. A number of old Revolutionary officers, however, had

hastily organized themselves, and waited on General Jackson to

solicit the honor of forming his escort to the Capitol, an offer

which was cordially accepted. The General rode in an open carriage

which had been placed at his disposal, and was surrounded by these

gallant veterans. The assembled thousands cheered lustily as their

favorite passed along, every face radiant with defiant joy, and

every voice shouting "Hurrah for Jackson!"

After the installation of John C. Calhoun as Vice-President in the

Senate Chamber, the assembled dignitaries moved in procession

through the rotunda to the east front of the Capitol. As the tall

figure of the President-elect came out upon the portico and ascended

the platform, uplifted hats and handkerchiefs waved a welcome, and

shouts of "Hurrah for Jackson!" rent the air. Looking around for

a moment into ten thousand upturned and exultant human faces, the

President-elect removed his hat, took the manuscript of his address

from his pocket, and read it with great dignity. When he had

finished, Chief Justice Marshall administered the oath, and as the

President, bending over the sacred Book, touched it with his lips,

there arose such a shout as was never before heard in Washington,

followed by the thunder of cannons, from two light batteries near

by, echoed by the cannon at the Navy Yard and at the Arsenal. The

crowd surged toward the platform, and had it not been that a ship's

cable had been stretched across the portico steps would have captured

their beloved leader. As it was, he shook hands with hundreds,

and it was with some difficulty that he could be escorted back to

his carriage and along Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House.

Meanwhile Mr. Adams, who had refused to participate in the pageant,

was taking his usual constitutional horseback exercise when the

thunders of the cannon reached his ears and notified him that he

was again a private citizen.

The broad sidewalks of Pennsylvania Avenue were again packed as

the procession returned from the Capitol. "I never saw such a

crowd," wrote Daniel Webster to a friend. "Persons have come five

hundred miles to see General Jackson, and they really seem to think

that the country is rescued from some dreadful danger." Hunters

of Kentucky and Indian fighters of Tennessee, with sturdy frontiersmen

from the Northwest, were mingled in the throng with the more cultured

dwellers on the Atlantic slope.

On their arrival at the White House, the motley crowd clamored for

refreshments and soon drained the barrels of punch, which had been

prepared, in drinking to the health of the new Chief Magistrate.

A great deal of china and glassware was broken, and the East Room

was filled with a noisy mob. At one time General Jackson, who had

retreated until he stood with his back against the wall, was

protected by a number of his friends, who formed a living barrier

about him. Such a scene had never before been witnessed at the

White House, and the aristocratic old Federalists saw, to their

disgust, men whose boots were covered with the red mud of the

unpaved streets standing on the damask satin-covered chairs to get

a sight at the President of their choice.

Late in the afternoon President Jackson sat down to dinner with

Vice-President Calhoun and a party of his personal friends, the

central dish on the table being a sirloin from a prize ox, sent to

him by John Merkle, a butcher of Franklin Market, New York. Before

retiring that night, the President wrote to the donor: "Permit

me, sir, to assure you of the gratification which I felt in being

enabled to place on my table so fine a specimen of your market,

and to offer you my sincere thanks for so acceptable a token of

your regard for my character." This was the commencement of a

series of presents which poured in on General Jackson during the

eight years of his administration.

The Democratic journalists of the country were also well represented

at the inauguration, attracted by this semi-official declaration

in the _Telegraph_: "We know not what line of policy General

Jackson will adopt. We take it for granted, however, that he will

reward his friends and punish his enemies."

The leader of this editorial phalanx was Amos Kendall, a native of

Dunstable, Massachusetts, who had by pluck and industry acquired

an education and migrated westward in search of fame and fortune.

Accident made him an inmate of Henry Clay's house and the tutor of

his children; but many months had not elapsed before the two became

political foes, and Kendall, who had become the conductor of a

Democratic newspaper, triumphed, bringing to Washington the official

vote of Kentucky for Andrew Jackson. He found at the National

metropolis other Democratic editors, who, like himself, had labored

to bring about the political revolution, and they used to meet

daily in the house of a preacher-politician, Rev. Obadiah B. Brown,

who had strongly advocated Jackson's election. Mr. Brown, who was

a stout, robust man, with a great fund of anecdotes, was a clerk

in the Post Office department during the week, while on Sundays he

performed his ministerial duties in the Baptist Church.

Organizing under the lead of Amos Kendall, whose lieutenants were

the brilliant but vindictive Isaac Hill, of New Hampshire; the

scholarly Nathaniel Greene, of Massachusetts; the conservative

Gideon Welles, of Connecticut; the jovial Major Mordecai M. Noah,

of New York, and the energetic Dabney S. Carr, of Maryland, the

allied editors claimed their rewards. They were not to be appeased

by sops of Government advertising, or by the appointment of publisher

of the laws of the United States in the respective States, but they

demanded some of the most lucrative public offices in their share

of the spoils. No sooner did General Jackson reach Washington then

they made a systematic attack upon him, introducing and praising

one another, and reciprocally magnifying their faithful services

during the canvass so successfully ended. The result was that soon

after the inauguration nearly fifty of those editors who had

advocated his election were appointed to official Federal positions

as rewards for political services rendered.

Up to that time the national elections in the United States had

not been mere contests for the possession of Federal offices--there

was victory and there was defeat; but the quadrennial encounters

affected only the heads of departments, and the results were matters

of comparative indifference to the subordinate official drudges

whose families depended on their pay for meat and bread. A few of

these department clerks were Revolutionary worthies; others had

followed the Federal Government from New York or Philadelphia; all

had expected to hold their positions for life. Some of these desk-

slaves had originally been Federalists, others Democrats; and while

there was always an Alexander Hamilton in every family of the one

set, there was as invariably a Thomas Jefferson in every family of

the other set. But no subordinate clerk had ever been troubled on

account of his political faith by a change of the Administration,

and the sons generally succeeded their fathers when they died or

resigned. Ordinarily, these clerks were good penmen and skillful

accountants, toiling industriously eight hours every week day

without dreaming of demanding a month's vacation in the summer, or

insisting upon their right to go to their homes to vote in the

fall. National politics was to them a matter of profound indifference

until, after the inauguration of General Jackson, hundreds of them

found themselves decapitated by the Democratic guillotine, without

qualifications for any other employment had the limited trade of

Washington afforded any. Many of them were left in a pitiable

condition, but when the _Telegraph_ was asked what these men could

do to ward off starvation, the insolent reply was, "Root, hog, or

die!" Some of the new political brooms swept clean, and made a

great show of reform, notably Amos Kendall, who was appointed Fourth

Auditor of the Treasury, and who soon after exulted over the

discovery of a defalcation of a few hundred dollars in the accounts

of his predecessor, Dr. Tobias Watkins.

Postmaster-General McLean, of Ohio, who had been avowedly a Jackson

man while he was a member of Mr. Adams' Administration, rebelled

against the removal of several of his most efficient subordinates,

because of their political action during the preceding Presidential

campaign. At last he flatly told General Jackson that if he must

remove those postmasters who had taken an active part in politics,

he should impartially turn out those who had worked to secure the

election of General Jackson, as well as those who had labored to

re-elect Mr. Adams. To his General Jackson at first made no reply,

but rose from his seat, puffing away at his pipe; and after walking

up and down the floor two or three times, he stopped in front of

his rebellious Postmaster-General, and said, "Mr. McLean, will you

accept a seat upon the bench of the Supreme Court?" The judicial

position thus tendered was accepted with thanks, and the Post-Office

Department was placed under the direction of Major Barry, who was

invited to take a seat in the Cabinet (never occupied by his

predecessors), and who not only made the desired removals and

appointments, but soon plunged the finances of the Department into

a chaotic state of disorder.

Prominent among those "Jackson men" who received lucrative mail

contracts from Postmaster-General Barry, was "Land Admiral" Reeside,

an appellation he owed to the executive ability which he had

displayed in organizing mail routes between distant cities. He

was a very tall man, well formed, with florid complexion, red hair,

and side whiskers. Very obligingly, he once had a horse belonging

to a Senator taken from Pittsburg to Washington tied behind a stage,

because the owner had affixed his "frank" to the animal's halter.

He was the first mail contractor who ran his stages between

Philadelphia and the West, by night as well as by day, and Mr.

Joseph R. Chandler, of the United States _Gazette_, said that "the

Admiral could leave Philadelphia on a six-horse coach with a hot

johnny-cake in his pocket and reach Pittsburg before it could grow

cold." He used to ridicule the locomotives when they were first

introduced, and offer to bet a thousand dollars that no man could

build a machine that would drag a stage from Washington to Baltimore

quicker than his favorite team of iron-grays.

Mail robberies were not uncommon in those days, although the crime

was punishable with imprisonment or death. One day one of Reeside's

coaches was stopped near Philadelphia by three armed men, who

ordered the nine passengers to alight and stand in a line. One of

the robbers then mounted guard, while the other two made the

terrified passengers deliver up their money and watches, and then

rifled the mail bags. They were soon afterward arrested, tried,

convicted, and one was sentenced to imprisonment in the penitentiary,

while the other two were condemned to be hung. Fortunately for

one of the culprits, named Wilson, he had some years previously,

at a horse-race near Nashville, Tennessee, privately advised General

Jackson to withdraw his bets on a horse which he was backing, as

the jockey had been ordered to lose the race. The General was very

thankful for this information, which enabled him to escape a heavy

loss, and he promised his informant that he would befriend him

whenever an opportunity should offer. When reminded of this promise,

after Wilson had been sentenced to be hanged, Jackson promptly

commuted the sentence to ten years imprisonment in the penitentiary.

When Admiral Reeside was carrying the mails between New York and

Washington, there arose a formidable organization in opposition to

the Sunday mail service. The members of several religious

denominations were prominent in their demonstrations, and in

Philadelphia, chains, secured by padlocks, were stretched across

the streets on Sundays to prevent the passage of the mail-coaches.

The subject was taken up by politicians, and finally came before

the House of Representatives, where it was referred to the Committee

on Post-Roads, of which Richard M. Johnson, of Kentucky, was then

the chairman. The Rev. Obadiah B. Brown, who had meanwhile been

promoted in the Post-office Department, wrote a report on the

subject for Colonel Johnson, which gave "the killer of Tecumseh"

an extended reputation, and was the first step toward his election

as Vice-President, a few years later.

[Facsimile]

J. C. Calhoun

JOHN CALDWELL CALHOUN was born in South Carolina, March 18th, 1782:

was a Representative in Congress, 1811-1817; Secretary of War, 1817-

1825; Vice-President, 1825-1832; United States Senator, 1833-1843;

Secretary of State, 1844-1845; United States Senator from 1845

until his death at Washington City, March 31st, 1850.

CHAPTER VII.

THE KITCHEN CABINET.

When the Twenty-first Congress assembled, on the 7th of December,

1829, General Jackson sent in his first annual message, which

naturally attracted some attention. Meeting his old and intimate

friend, General Armstrong, the next day, the President said, "Well,

Bob, what do the people say of my message?" "They say," replied

General Armstrong, "that it is first-rate, but nobody believes that

you wrote it." "Well," good-naturedly replied Old Hickory, "don't

I deserve just as much credit for picking out the man who could

write it?" Although the words of this and of the subsequent messages

were not General Jackson's, the ideas were, and he always insisted

on having them clearly expressed. It was in his first message, by

the way, that he invited the attention of Congress to the fact that

the charter of the United States bank would expire in 1836, and

asserted that it had "failed in the great end of establishing a

uniform and sound currency." This was the beginning of that fierce

political contest which resulted in the triumph of General Jackson

and the overthrow of the United States Bank.

General Jackson rarely left the White House, where he passed the

greater portion of his time in his office in the second story, smoking

a corn-cob pipe with a long reed stem. He was at the commencement

of his Presidential term sixty-two years of age, tall, spare, with

a high forehead, from which his gray hair was brushed back, a

decisive nose, searching, keen eyes, and, when good-natured, an

almost childlike expression about his mouth. A self-reliant,

prejudiced, and often very irascible old man, it was a very difficult

task to manage him. Some of his Cabinet advisers made it a point

to be always with him, to prevent others from ingratiating themselves

into his good will, and they were thus chronicled in a ballad of

the time:

"King Andrew had five trusty 'squires,

Whom he held his bid to do;

He also had three pilot-fish,

To give the sharks their cue.

There was Mat and Lou and Jack and Lev,

And Roger, of Taney hue,

And Blair, the book,

And Kendall, chief cook,

And Isaac, surnamed the true."

Mat. Van Buren was Secretary of State, Lou. McLane Secretary of

the Treasury, John Branch was Secretary of the Navy, Lev. Woodbury

was his successor, and Roger B. Taney was Attorney-General. Blair,

Kendall, and Isaac Hill were also known as "the kitchen cabinet."

The confidential advisers of General Jackson lost no time in

establishing a daily newspaper which would speak his sentiments

and sound a key-note for the guidance of his followers. The

_Washington Globe_ was accordingly started on an immense paying

basis, as it had the name of every Federal office-holder whose

salary exceeded one thousand dollars on its subscription list.

The paper was sent them, and in due time the bill for a year. If

a remittance was made, well and good; if payment was refused, the

delinquent was told informally that he could pay his subscription

to the _Globe_, or be replaced by some one else who would pay it.

It was owned and edited by Blair & Rives, Rives attending to the

business department of the establishment. Mr. Blair had been the

partner of Amos Kendall in the publication of the Frankfort _Argus_,

and they had both deserted Henry Clay when they enlisted in the

movement which gave the electoral vote of Kentucky to General

Jackson, and joined in the cry of "bargain and corruption" raised

against their former friend. It is related that the first interview

between Clay and Blair after this desertion was a very awkward one

for the latter, who felt that he had behaved shabbily. Clay had

ridden over on horseback from Lexington to Frankfort, in the winter

season, on legal business, and on alighting from his horse at the

tavern door he found himself confronting Blair, who was just leaving

the house. "How do you do, Mr. Blair?" inquired the great commoner,

in his silvery tones and blandest manner, at the same time extending

his hand. Blair mechanically took the tendered hand, but was

evidently nonplussed, and at length said, with an evident effort,

"Pretty well, I thank you, sir. How did you find the roads from

Lexington to here?" "The roads are very bad, Mr. Blair," graciously

replied Clay, "very bad; and I wish, sir, that you would mend your

ways."

Mr. Blair made it a rule to defend in the columns of the _Globe_

the acts of Jackson's Administration, right or wrong, and he waged

merciless warfare against those who opposed them. When Colonel

William R. King, of Alabama, once begged him to soften an attack

upon an erring Democrat, Mr. Blair replied, "No! let it tear his

heart out." With all his political insolence, however, he possessed

remarkable kindness, and a more indulgent father was never known

in Washington.

The Washington papers, up to this time, contained very little of

what has since been known as local news. A parade, an inauguration,

or the funeral of a distinguished person would receive brief mention,

but the pleasant gossip of the day was entirely ignored. It was

then necessary for the correspondent of a paper in a northern city

to mail his letter at the post-office before twelve o'clock at

night to insure its departure by the early morning's mail northward.

Letters written to New York did not, consequently, appear until

the second day after they were written, while those sent to Boston

rarely appeared before the fourth day. The people then were better

posted as to what transpired at the Nation's Capital than they are

now, when dispatches can be sent in a few moments at any time of

day or night.

Mrs. Anne Royall began an enterprise in personal literature. She

managed to secure an old Ramage printing-press and a font of battered

long-primer type, with which, aided by runaway apprentices and

tramping journeymen printers, she published, on Capitol Hill, for

several years, a small weekly sheet called the _Huntress_. Every

person of any distinction who visited Washington received a call

from Mrs. Royall, and if they subscribed for the _Huntress_ they

were described in the next number in a complimentary manner, but

if they declined she abused them without mercy. When young she

was a short, plump, and not bad-looking woman, but as she advanced

in years her flesh disappeared, and her nose seemed to increase in

size; but her piercing black eyes lost none of their fire, while

her tongue wagged more abusively when her temper was roused. John

Quincy Adams described her as going about "like a virago-errant in

enchanted armor, redeeming herself from the cramps of indigence by

the notoriety of her eccentricities and the forced currency they

gave to her publications."

Mrs. Royall's tongue at last became so unendurable that she was

formally indicted by the Grand Jury as a common scold, and was

tried in the Circuit Court before Judge Cranch. His Honor charged

the jury at length, reviewing the testimony and showing that, if

found guilty, she must be ducked, in accordance with the English

law in force in the District of Columbia. The jury found her

guilty, but her counsel begged his Honor, the Judge, to weigh the

matter and not be the first to introduce a ducking-stool. The plea

prevailed and she was let off with a fine.

The first "Society Letters," as they were called, written from

Washington, were by Nathaniel P. Willis, to the New York _Mirror_.

Willis was at that time a foppish, slender young man, with a

profusion of curly, light hair, and was always dressed in the height

of fashion. He had, while traveling in Europe, mingled with the

aristocratic classes, and he affected to look down upon the masses;

but with all his snobbishness he had a wonderful faculty for endowing

trifling occurrences with interest, and his letters have never been

surpassed. He possessed a sunny nature, full of poetry, enthusiasm,

and cheerfulness, and was always willing to say a pleasant word

for those who treated him kindly, and never sought to retaliate on

his enemies.

Willis first introduced steel pens at Washington, having brought

over from England some of those made by Joseph Gillott, at Birmingham.

Before this goose-quill pens had been exclusively used, and there

was in each House of Congress and in each Department a penmaker,

who knew what degree of flexibility and breadth of point each writer

desired. Every gentleman had to carry a penknife, and to have in

his desk a hone to sharpen it on, giving the finishing touches on

one of his boots. Another new invention of that epoch was the

lucifer match-box, which superseded the large tin tinder-box with

its flint and steel. The matches were in the upper portion of a

pasteboard case about an inch in diameter and six inches in length

and in a compartment beneath them was a bottle containing a chemical

preparation, into which the brimstone-coated end of the match was

dipped and thus ignited.

The Mayor of Washington, during a portion of the Jackson Administration,

was Peter Force, a noble specimen of those who, before the existence

of trades unions, used to serve an apprenticeship to the "art

preservative of arts," and graduate from the printing office

qualified to fill any political position. Fond of American history,

Mr. Force, while printing the _Biennial Register_, better known as

the Blue Book from the color of its binding, began to collect

manuscripts, books, and pamphlets, many of which had been thrown

away in the executive departments as rubbish, and were purchased

by him from the dealers in waste paper. In 1833 he originated the

idea of compiling and publishing a documentary history of the

country, under the title of the _American Archives_, and issued a

number of large folio volumes, the profits going to the politicians

who secured the necessary appropriations from Congress. He was

emphatically a gentleman--tall, stalwart, with bushy black hair,

and large, expressive eyes, which would beam with joy whenever a

friend brought him a rare autograph or pamphlet.

Assemblies were held once a week between Christmas Day and Ash

Wednesday, to which all of the respectable ladies of the city who

danced were invited. It was also customary for those of the Cabinet

officers and other high officials who kept house to give at least

one evening party during each session of Congress, invitations for

which were issued. The guests at these parties used to assemble

at about eight o'clock, and after taking off their wraps in an

upper room they descended to the parlor, where the host and hostess

received them. The older men then went to the punch-bowl to

criticise the "brew" which it contained, while the young people

found their way to the dining-room, almost invariably devoted to

dancing. The music was a piano and two violins, and one of the

musicians called the figures for the cotillions and contra-dances.

Those who did not dance elbowed their way through the crowd,

conversing with acquaintances, the men frequently taking another

glass of punch. At ten the guests were invited to the supper-table,

which was often on the wide back porch which every Washington house

had in those days. The table was always loaded with evidences of

the culinary skill of the lady of the house. There was a roast

ham at one end, a saddle of venison or mutton at the other end,

and some roasted poultry or wild ducks midway; a great variety of

home-baked cake was a source of pride, and there was never any lack

of punch, with decanters of Madeira. The diplomats gave champagne,

but it was seldom seen except at the legations. At eleven there

was a general exodus, and after the usual scramble for hats, cloaks,

and over-shoes the guests entered their carriages. Sometimes a

few intimate friends of the hostess lingered to enjoy a contra-

dance or to take a parting drink of punch, but by midnight the last

guest departed, and the servants began to blow out the candles with

which the house had been illuminated.

In Jackson's first Administration the country was shocked by the

appearance of a book entitled, _The Domestic Manners of Americans_,

by Mrs. Frances Trollope. She was a bright little Englishwoman,

who had come to this country and established a bazaar at Cincinnati,

which proved a failure. So she sought revenge and wealth by a

caricature sketch of our pioneer life, founded on fact, but very

unpalatable. Expectoration was her pet abomination, and she was

inclined to think that this "most vile and universal habit of

chewing tobacco" was the cause of a remarkable peculiarity in the

male physiognomy of Americans, the almost uniform thinness and

compression of their lips. So often did Mrs. Trollope recur to

this habit that she managed to give one the impression that this

country was in those days a sort of huge spittoon.

Mrs. Trollope first called attention to the fact that American

women did not consult the season in either the colors or style of

their costumes, never wore boots, and walked in the middle of winter

with their pretty little feet pinched into miniature slippers

incapable of excluding as much moisture as might bedew a primrose.

Removals from office that places might be provided for Jackson men

were the order of the day, but President Jackson was not disposed

to displace any veteran soldier. Among other victims designated

for removal by the politicians was General Solomon Van Rensselaer,

whose gallant services against Great Britain in the War of 1812

had been rewarded by an election to the House of Representatives,

followed by his appointment as Postmaster of Albany. He was a

decided Federalist and the petition for his removal was headed by

Martin Van Buren and Silas Wright.

Visiting Washington, General Van Rensselaer received a cordial

greeting from General Jackson at a public reception, and then,

taking a seat in a corner, he waited until the room was cleared,

when he again approached the President, saying: "General Jackson,

I have come here to talk to you about my office. The politicians

want to take it from me, and they know I have nothing else to live

on." The President made no reply, till the aged Postmaster began

to take off his coat in the most excited manner, when Old Hickory

broke out with the inquiry: "What in Heaven's name are you going

to do? Why do you take off your coat here?" "Well, sir, I am

going to show you my wounds, which I received in fighting for my

country against the English!" "Put it on at once, sir!" was the

reply; "I am surprised that a man of your age should make such an

exhibition of himself," and the eyes of the iron President were

suffused with tears, as, without another word, he bade his ancient

foe good evening.

The next day Messrs. Van Buren and Wright called at the White House

and were shown up into the President's room, where they found him

smoking a clay pipe. Mr. Wright soon commenced to solicit the

removal of General Van Rensselaer, asserting that he had been known

as a very active advocate of John Quincy Adams; that he had literally

forfeited his place by his earnest opposition to the Jackson men,

and that if he were not removed the new Administration would be

seriously injured. He had hardly finished the last sentence, when

Jackson sprang to his feet, flung his pipe into the fire, and

exclaimed with great vehemence, "I take the consequences, sir; I

take the consequences. By the Eternal! I will not remove the old

man--I cannot remove him. Why, Mr. Wright, do you not know that

he carries more than a pound of British lead in his body?" That

settled the question, and General Van Rensselaer remained undisturbed

as Postmaster at Albany through the Jackson Administration, although

Martin Van Buren, when he came into power, promptly "bounced" him.

General Jackson's defiant disposition was manifested when, in a

message to Congress, he recommended that a law be passed authorizing

reprisals upon French property in case provision should not be made

for the payment of the long-standing claims against France at the

approaching session of the French Chambers. Some of his Cabinet,

having deemed this language too strong, had prevailed upon the

President's private secretary, Major Donelson, to modify it, and

to make it less irritating and menacing. No sooner was it discovered

by General Jackson than he flew into a great excitement, and when

Mr. Rives entered his private office to obtain it for printing, he

found the old General busily engaged in re-writing it according to

the original copy. "I know them French," said he. "They won't

pay unless they're made to."

The French people were indignant when this message reached Paris,

and when the Chamber of Deputies finally provided for the payment

of the claims, a proviso was inserted ordering the money to be

withheld until the President of the United States had apologized

for the language used. This General Jackson flatly refused to do,

and the "Ancient Allies" of the Revolution were on the verge of

hostilities, when both nations agreed to submit their differences

to Great Britain. The affair was speedily arranged, and France

paid five millions of dollars for French spoilations into the

Treasury of the United States, where it has since remained.

[Facsimile]

Silas Wright Jr.

SILAS WRIGHT, JR., was born at Amherst, Massachusetts, May 24th,

1795; was a Representative from New York in Congress, 1827-1829;

Comptroller of New York, 1829-1833; United States Senator, 1833-

1844; Governor of New York, 1844-1846; retired to his farm at

Canton, New York, and died there, August 27th, 1847.

CHAPTER VIII.

BATTLE OF THE GIANTS.

An unimportant resolution concerning the public lands, introduced

into the Senate early in 1830 by Senator Foote, of Connecticut (the

father of Admiral Foote), led to a general debate, which has been

since known as "the battle of the giants." The discussion embraced

all the partisan issues of the time, especially those of a sectional

nature, including the alleged rights of a State to set the Federal

Government at defiance. The State Rights men in South Carolina,

instigated by Mr. Calhoun, had been active during the preceding

summer in collecting material for this discussion, and they had

taken especial pains to request a search for evidence that Mr.

Webster had shown a willingness to have New England secede from

the Union during the second war with Great Britain. The vicinity

of Portsmouth, where he had resided when he entered public life,

was, to use his own words, "searched as with a candle. New Hampshire

was explored from the mouth of the Merrimack to the White Hills."

Nor had Mr. Webster been idle. He was not an extemporaneous speaker,

and he passed the summer in carefully studying, in his intervals

of professional duties, the great constitutional question which he

afterward so brilliantly discussed. A story is told at Providence

about a distinguished lawyer of that place--Mr. John Whipple--who

was at Washington when Webster replied to Hayne, but who did not

hear the speech, as he was engaged in a case before the Supreme

Court when it was delivered. When a report of what Mr. Webster

had said appeared in print, Mr. Whipple read it, and was haunted

by the idea that he had heard or read it before. Meeting Mr.

Webster soon afterward, he mentioned this idea to him and inquired

whether it could possibly have any foundation in fact. "Certainly

it has," replied Mr. Webster. "Don't you remember our conversations

during the long walks we took together last summer at Newport,

while in attendance on Story's court?" It flashed across Mr.

Whipple's mind that Mr. Webster had then rehearsed the legal argument

of his speech and had invited criticism.

As the debate on the Foote resolution progressed, it revealed an

evident intention to attack New England, and especially Massachusetts.

This brought Mr. Webster into the arena, and he concluded a brief

speech by declaring that, as a true representative of the State

which had sent him into the Senate, it was his duty and a duty

which he should fulfill, to place her history and her conduct, her

honor and her character, in their just and proper light. A few

days later, Mr. Webster heard his State and himself mercilessly

attacked by General Hayne, of South Carolina, no mean antagonist.

The son of a Revolutionary hero who had fallen a victim to British

cruelty, highly educated, with a slender, graceful form, fascinating

deportment, and a well-trained, mellifluous voice, the haughty

South Carolinian entered the lists of the political tournament like

Saladin to oppose the Yankee Coeur de Lion.

When Mr. Webster went to the Senate Chamber to reply to General

Hayne, on Tuesday, January 20th, 1830, he felt himself master of

the situation. Always careful about his personal appearance when

he was to address an audience, he wore on that day the Whig uniform,

which had been copied by the Revolutionary heroes--a blue dress-

coat with bright buttons, a buff waistcoat, and a high, white

cravat. Neither was he insensible to the benefits to be derived

from publicity, and he had sent a request to Mr. Gales to report

what he was to say himself, rather than to send one of his

stenographers. The most graphic account of the scene in the Senate

Chamber during the delivery of the speech was subsequently written

virtually from Mr. Webster's dictation. Perhaps, like Mr. Healy's

picture of the scene, it is rather high-colored.

Sheridan, after his forty days' preparation, did not commence his

scathing impeachment of Warren Hastings with more confidence that

was displayed by Mr. Webster when he stood up, in the pride of his

manhood, and began to address the interested mass of talent,

intelligence, and beauty around him. A man of commanding presence,

with a well-knit, sturdy frame, swarthy features, a broad, thoughtful

forehead, courageous eyes gleaming from beneath shaggy eyebrows,

a quadrangular breadth of jawbone, and a mouth which bespoke strong

will, he stood like a sturdy Roundhead sentinel on guard before

the gates of the Constitution. Holding in profound contempt what

he termed spread-eagle oratory, his only gesticulations were up-and-

down motions of his arm, as if he were beating out with sledge-

hammers his forcible ideas. His peroration was sublime, and every

loyal American heart has since echoed the last words, "Liberty and

union--now and forever--one and inseparable!"

Mr. Webster's speech, carefully revised by himself, was not published

until the 23d of February, and large editions of it were circulated

throughout the Northern States. The debate was continued, and it

was the 21st of May before Colonel Benton, who had been the first

defamer of New England, brought it to a close. The Northern men

claimed for Mr. Webster the superiority, but General Jackson praised

the speech of Mr. Hayne, and deemed his picture worthy to occupy

a place in the White House, thus giving expression to the general

sentiment among the Southerners. This alarmed Mr. Van Buren, who

was quietly yet shrewdly at work to defeat the further advancement

of Mr. Calhoun, and he lost no time in demonstrating to the imperious

old soldier who occupied the Presidential chair that the South

Carolina doctrine of nullification could but prove destructive to

the Union.

Mr. Calhoun was not aware of this intrigue, and, in order to

strengthen his State Rights policy, he organized a public dinner

on the anniversary of Jefferson's birthday, April 13th, 1830. When

the toasts which were to be proposed were made public in advance,

according to the custom, it was discovered that several of them

were strongly anti-tariff and State Rights in sentiment--so much

so that a number of Pennsylvania tariff Democrats declined to

attend, and got up a dinner of their own. General Jackson attended

the dinner, but he went late and retired early, leaving a volunteer

toast, which he had carefully prepared at the White House, and

which fell like a damper upon those at the dinner, while it

electrified the North, "The Federal Union--it must and shall be

maintained!" This toast, which could not be misunderstood, showed

that General Jackson would not permit himself to be placed in the

attitude of a patron of doctrines which could lead only to a

dissolution of the Federal Government. But the Committee on

Arrangements toned it down, so that it appeared in the official

report of the dinner, "Our Federal Union--it must be preserved!"

This was a severe blow to Mr. Calhoun, who had labored earnestly

to break down Mr. Adams' Administration, without respect to its

measures, that a Democratic party might be built up which would

first elect General Jackson, and then recognize Calhoun as legitimate

successor to the Presidential chair. His discomfiture was soon

completed by the publication of a letter from Mr. Crawford, which

informed the President that Calhoun, when in the Cabinet of Monroe,

proposed that "General Jackson should be punished in some form"

for his high-handed military rule in Florida. Van Buren secretly

fanned the flames of General Jackson's indignation, and adroitly

availed himself of a "tempest in a tea-pot" to complete the downfall

of his rival.

The woman used as a tool by Mr. Van Buren for the overthrow of Mr.

Calhoun's political hopes was a picturesque and prominent figure

in Washington society then and during the next fifty years. The

National Metropolis in those days resembled, as has been well said,

in recklessness and extravagance, the spirit of the English

seventeenth century, so graphically portrayed in _Thackeray's

Humorist_, rather than the dignified caste of the nineteenth cycle

of Christianity. Laxity of morals and the coolest disregard possible

characterized that period of our existence.

Mrs. General Eaton ruled Andrew Jackson as completely as he ruled

the Democratic party. She was the daughter of William O'Neill, a

rollicking Irishman, who was in his day the landlord of what was

then the leading public house in Washington City. Among other

Congressmen who were guests here was Andrew Jackson, then a Senator

from Tennessee. It was here he became interested in the landlord's

brilliant daughter Margaret, called by her friends "Peg" O'Neill.

Before she was sixteen years of age she married a handsome naval

officer, John Bowie Timberlake. He died--some say that he committed

suicide--at Port Mahon, in 1828, leaving his accounts as purser in

a very mixed condition. After the death of Timberlake, Commodore

Patterson ordered Lieutenant Randolph to take the purser's books

and perform the duties of purser. On the return home of the

Constitution it was discovered that Timberlake or Randolph was a

defaulter to the Government to a very large amount. A court of

inquiry was held on Randolph and he was acquitted, but Amos Kendall,

the Fourth Auditor of the Treasury Department, charged the defalcation

to Randolph. President Jackson, notwithstanding the decision of

the court, dismissed Lieutenant Randolph from the Navy, and refused

to give him a hearing.

The Lieutenant, infuriated by his disgrace and pecuniary ruin, in

a state of excitement pulled the President's nose in the cabin of

a steamboat at the Alexandria wharf. He was immediately seized

and thrust on shore, the President declaring that he was able to

punish him. He charged that Jackson dismissed him and sustained

Kendall's decision in order to save General Eaton, who was Timberlake's

bondsman, from having to make good the defalcation.

General Eaton, who had boarded with his friend, General Jackson,

at O'Neill's tavern, soon afterward married the Widow Timberlake,

who was then one of those examples of that Irish beauty, which,

marked by good blood, so suggests both the Greek and the Spaniard,

and yet at times presents a combination which transcends both.

Her form, of medium height, straight and delicate, was of perfect

proportions. Her skin was of that delicate white, tinged with red,

which one often sees among even the poorer inhabitants of the Green

Isle. Her dark hair, very abundant, clustered in curls about her

broad, expressive forehead. Her perfect nose, of almost Grecian

proportions, and finely curved mouth, with a firm, round chin,

completed a profile of faultless outlines. She was in Washington

City what Aspasia was in Athens--the cynosure by whose reflected

radiance

"Beauty lent her smile to wit,

And learning by her star was lit."

General Jackson had come to Washington with a sad heart, breathing

vengeance against those who had defamed his wife during the

Presidential canvass, thereby, as he thought, hastening her death.

This made him the sworn and unyielding foe of all slanderers of

women, and when some of the female tabbies of the Capital began to

drag the name of his old friend "Peg," then the wife of General

Eaton, through the mire, he was naturally indignant, and showed

his respect for her by having her a frequent guest at the White

House. Enchanting, ambitious, and unscrupulous, she soon held the

old hero completely under her influence, and carried her griefs to

him. Mr. Van Buren adroitly seconded her, and the gallant old

soldier swore "by the Eternal" that the scandalmongers who had

embittered the last years of his beloved wife, Rachel, should not

triumph over his "little friend Peg."

This was Van Buren's opportunity. He was a widower, keeping house

at Washington, and as Secretary of State he was able to form an

alliance with the bachelor Ministers of Great Britain and Russia,

each of whom had spacious residences. A series of dinners, balls,

and suppers was inaugurated at these three houses, and at each

successive entertainment Mrs. Eaton was the honored guest, who led

the contra-dance, and occupied the seat at table on the right of

the host. Some respectable ladies were so shocked by her audacity

that they would leave a room when she entered it. She was openly

denounced by clergymen, and she found herself in positions which

would have covered almost any other woman in Washington with shame.

Mrs. Eaton, who apparently did not possess a scruple as to the

propriety of her course, evidently enjoyed the situation, and used

to visit General Jackson every day with a fresh story of the insults

paid her. Yet she gave no evidences of diplomacy nor of political

sagacity, but was a mere beautiful, passionate, impulsive puppet,

held up by General Jackson, while Mr. Van Buren adroitly pulled

the strings that directed her movements.

Mr. Calhoun, whose wife was foremost among those ladies who positively

refused to associate with Mrs. Eaton, said to a friend of General

Jackson's, who endeavored to effect a reconciliation, that "the

quarrels of women, like those of the Medes and Persians, admitted

of neither inquiry nor explanation." He knew well, however, that

it was no women's quarrel, but a political game of chess played by

men who were using women as their pawns, and he lost the game.

Van Buren and Eaton next tendered their resignations as Cabinet

officers, which General Jackson refused to accept; whereupon the

Cabinet officers whose wives declined to call on Mrs. Eaton resigned,

and their resignations were promptly accepted. The whole city was

in a turmoil. Angry men walked about with bludgeons, seeking

"satisfaction;" duels were talked of; old friendships were severed;

and every fresh indignity offered his "little friend Peg" endeared

her the more to General Jackson, who was duly grateful to Van Buren

for having espoused her cause. "It is odd enough," wrote Daniel

Webster to a personal friend, "that the consequences of this dispute

in the social and fashionable world are producing great political

effects, and may very probably determine who shall be successor to

the present Chief Magistrate."

Junius Brutus Booth was the delight of the Washington playgoers in

the Jackson Administration. His wonderful impersonations of Richard

III., Iago, King Lear, Othello, Shylock, and Sir Giles Overreach

were as grand as his private life was intemperate and eccentric.

He was a short, dumpy man, with features resembling those of the

Roman Emperors, before his nose was broken in a quarrel, and his

deportment on the stage was imperially grand. He had a farm in

Maryland, and at one time he undertook to supply a Washington hotel

with eggs, milk, and chickens, but he soon gave it up. His instant

and tremendous concentration of passion in his delineations

overwhelmed his audience and wrought it into such enthusiasm that

it partook of the fever of inspiration surging through his own

veins. He was not lacking in the power to comprehend and portray

with marvelous and exquisite delicacy the subtle shades of character

that Shakespeare loved to paint, and his impersonations were a

delight to the refined scholar as well as the uncultivated backwoodsmen

who crowded to his performances.

The Washington Theatre was not well patronized, but the strolling

proprietors of minor amusements reaped rich harvests of small silver

coins. The circus paid its annual visit, to the joy of the rural

Congressmen and the negroes, who congregated around its sawdust

ring, applauding each successive act of horsemanship and laughing

at the repetition of the clown's old jokes; a daring rope-dancer,

named Herr Cline, performed his wonderful feats on the tight rope

and on the slack wire; Finn gave annual exhibitions of fancy glass-

blowing; and every one went to see "the living skeleton," a tall,

emaciated young fellow named Calvin Edson, compared with whom

Shakespeare's starved apothecary was fleshy.

General Jackson turned a deaf ear to the numerous applications made

to him for charity. At one time when he was President a large

number of Irish immigrants were at work on the Chesapeake and Ohio

Canal in Georgetown, and, the weather being very hot, many of them

were prostrated by sunstroke and bilious diseases. They were

without medical aid, the necessities of life, or any shelter except

the shanties in which they were crowded. Their deplorable condition

led to the formation of a society of Irish-Americans, with the

venerable Mr. McLeod, a noted instructor, as president. A committee

from this Society waited on the President for aid, and Mr. McLeod

made known the object of their visit. General Jackson interrupted

him by saying that he "entirely disapproved of the Society; that

the fact of its existence would induce these fellows to come one

hundred miles to get the benefit of it; that if the treasury of

the United States were at his disposal it could not meet the demands

that were daily made upon him, and he would not be driven from the

White House by a beggar-man, like old Jim Monroe."

Colonel Samuel Swartwout, of Hoboken, was an old personal friend

of General Jackson, and when "the Hickory Broom" began to sweep

out the old office-holders, in obedience to the maxim, "To the

victors belong the spoils," the Colonel was an applicant for the

then lucrative position of Collector of the Port of New York. Van

Buren was against him, and used many arguments with Jackson to

prevent the appointment; but after a patient hearing, Old Hickory

closed the case by bringing his fist down upon the table and

exclaiming, "By the Eternal! Sam, Swartwout _shall_ be Collector

of the Port of New York!" He was appointed and became the prey of

political swindlers, spending the public moneys right regally until

his accounts were overhauled, and he "Swartwouted" (to use a word

coined at the time) to avoid a criminal prosecution. He remained

abroad for many years, and I think died in Europe.

Francis S. Key was United States Attorney for the district of

Washington during the Jackson Administration. He was a small,

active man, having an earnest and even anxious expression of

countenance, as if care sat heavily upon him. In composing the

heroic song of the "Star-Spangled Banner," after he had witnessed

the unsuccessful night attack of the British on Fort McHenry, he,

in a measure, associated himself with the glory of his country.

He was a man of very ardent religious character, and some of the

most poetic and popular of the hymns used in religious worship were

from his pen.

[Facsimile]

Danl Webster

DANIEL WEBSTER was born at Salisbury, New Hampshire, January 18th,

1782; was a Representative from New Hampshire in Congress, 1813-

1817, and removing to Boston, a Representative from Massachusetts,

1823-1827; United States Senator, 1827-1841; Secretary of State

under Presidents Harrison and Tyler, 1841-1843; United States

Senator, 1845-1850; Secretary of State under President Fillmore

from 1850 until his death at Marshfield, Massachusetts, October

14th, 1852.

CHAPTER IX.

THE STAMPING OUT OF NULLIFICATION.

The rejection by the Senate of the nomination of Martin Van Buren

as Minister Plenipotentiary to Great Britain, was an act of

retributive justice, carried out on the very spot where, five years

before, he had formed the combination which overthrew the Administration

of John Quincy Adams. John C. Calhoun, who was the organizer of

the rejection of Mr. Van Buren, thought that he had obtained pledges

of a sufficient number of votes; but just before the ayes and noes

were called Mr. Webster left the Senate Chamber, and going down

into the Supreme Court room remained there until the vote had been

taken. Mr. Calhoun consequently found himself one vote short, and

had to give the casting vote, as President of the Senate, which

rejected the nomination of his rival, who was already in England,

where he had been received with marked attention.

Returning to the United States, Mr. Van Buren was warmly welcomed

at the White House as a victim of Mr. Calhoun's opposition to the

President, and he was soon recognized by the Democratic party as

their heir-apparent to the Presidency. His appearance at that time

was impressive. He was short, solidly built, with a bald head,

and with bushy side-whiskers, which framed his florid features.

He added the grace and polish of aristocratic English society to

his natural courtesy, and it was his evident aim never to provoke

a controversy, while he used every exertion to win new friends and

retain old ones. After he had been elected Vice-President, he sat

day after day in the chair of the Senate, apparently indifferent

alike to the keen thrusts of Calhoun, the savage blows of Webster,

and the gibes of Clay. He well knew that General Jackson would

regard every assault on him as aimed at the Administration, and

that his chances for the succession would thereby be strengthened.

Charges of political chicanery were brought against him in shapes

more varied than that of Proteus and thick as the leaves that strew

the vale of Valombrosa; but he invariably extricated himself by

artifice and choice management, earning the sobriquet of "the Little

Magician." He could not be provoked into a loss of temper, and he

would not say a word while in the chair except as connected with

his duties as presiding officer, when he spoke in gentle but

persuasive tones, singularly effective from the clearness of his

enunciation and his well-chosen emphasis.

Mr. Van Buren, who was then a widower, kept house on Pennsylvania

Avenue, about half way between the White House and Georgetown,

where he not only gave dinner parties to his political friends,

but entertained their wives and daughters at evening whist parties.

Gentlemen and ladies were alike used for the advancement of his

schemes for the succession and for retaining his position in the

estimation of General Jackson. On one occasions he said to Mrs.

Eaton that he had been reading much and thinking deeply on the

characters of great men, and had come to the conclusion that General

Jackson was the greatest man that had ever lived--the only man

among them all who was without a fault. "But," he added, "don't

tell General Jackson what I have said. I would not have him know

it for all the world." Of course, it was not long before Mrs.

Eaton repeated the conversation to General Jackson. "Ah, madam!"

said Old Hickory, the tears starting in his eyes, "that man loves

me; he tries to conceal it, but there is always some way fixed by

which I can tell my friends from my enemies."

Mr. Van Buren was noted for his willingness to sign applications

for office, and he used to tell a good story illustrating his

readiness to oblige those who solicited his aid. When Governor of

the State of New York, a lawyer called upon him to get a convict

pardoned from the penitentiary, and stated the case, which was a

clear one. "Have you the papers?" he asked. "If so, I will sign

them." "Here they are," said the lawyer, producing a bulky document,

and the Governor indorsed them: "Let pardon be granted. M. Van

Buren." He then left for the office of the Secretary of State,

but soon returned. "Governor," said he, "I made a mistake, and

you indorsed the wrong paper." He had presented for the official

indorsement the marriage settlement of an Albany belle about to

marry a spendthrift.

To ingratiate himself further with General Jackson, and to strengthen

the Democratic party, whose votes he relied upon to elevate him to

the Presidency, Mr. Van Buren organized the war against the United

States Bank. General Jackson was opposed to this institution before

he became President, and it was not a difficult task to impress

upon his mind that the Bank was an unconstitutional monopoly, which

defied the legislative acts of sovereign States, which was suborning

the leading newspapers and public men of the country, and which

was using every means that wealth, political chicanery, and legal

cunning could devise to perpetuate its existence. All this the

honest old soldier in time believed, and it was then not difficult

to impress him with a desire to combat this "monster," as he called

the bank, and to act as the champion of the people in killing the

dragon which was endeavoring to consume their fortunes. When a

committee of wealthy business men from Boston, New York, and

Philadelphia waited on him with a remonstrance against his financial

policy, he gave them such a reception that they felt very uncomfortable

and were glad to get away.

The Democratic politicians and presses heartily seconded their

chieftain in this war, promising the people "Benton mint-drops

instead of rag-money." Jackson clubs were everywhere organized,

having opposite to the tavern or hall used as their headquarters

a hickory-tree, trimmed of all its foliage except a tuft at the

top. Torch-light processions, then organized for the first time,

used to march through the streets of the city or village where they

belonged, halting in front of the houses of prominent Jackson men

to cheer, while before the residences of leading Whigs they would

often tarry long enough to give six or nine groans. Editors of

newspapers which supported the Administration were forced to advocate

its most ultra measures and to denounce its opponents, or they were

arraigned as traitors, and if satisfactory excuses could not be

made, they were read out of the party. Among these thus excommunicated

was Mr. James Gordon Bennett, who had edited the Philadelphia

_Pennsylvanian_.

Nicholas Biddle, its president, managed the affairs of the Bank of

the United States with consummate ability. His trials in the bitter

contest waged against him and the institution which he represented

were almost as manifold as those that tested the patience of Job;

and he bore them with equal meekness so far as temper was concerned,

but when duty required he never failed to meet his opponents with

decision and effect. The Bank had to discount the worthless notes

of a number of Congressmen and editors, whose support, thus purchased,

did more harm than good. Mr. Biddle had also incurred the hostility

of Isaac Hill and other influential Jackson men because he would

not remove the non-partisan presidents and cashiers of the branches

of the Bank in their respective localities, and appoint in their

places zealous henchmen of the Administration.

General Jackson was triumphantly re-elected in November, 1832,

receiving two hundred and nineteen of the two hundred and eighty-

eight electoral votes cast, while Martin Van Buren received one

hundred and eighty-nine electoral votes for Vice-President.

Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Delaware, Maryland, and

Kentucky cast forty-nine electoral votes for Henry Clay and John

Sargent. Vermont gave her seven electoral votes for the anti-

Masonic candidates, William Wirt and William Ellmaker, while South

Carolina bestowed her eleven electoral votes on John Floyd, of

Virginia, and Henry Lee, of Massachusetts, neither of whom were

nullifiers. Some of the Jackson newspapers, while rejoicing over

his re-election, nominated him for a third term, and William Wirt

wrote: "My opinion is that he may be President for life if he

chooses."

The ordeal of re-election having been passed, President Jackson

and his supporters carried out the programme which had before been

decided upon. The removal of the Government deposits from the

United States Bank gave rise to stormy debates in Congress, and

the questionable exercise of Executive authority met with a fierce,

unrelenting opposition from the Whigs.

The debates in the Senate on the Bank and attendant financial

questions were very interesting, but the audiences were necessarily

small. The circumscribed accommodations of the Senate Chamber were

insufficient, and while the ladies generally managed to secure

seats, either in the galleries or on the floor, the gentlemen had

to content themselves with uncomfortable positions, leaning against

pillars or peeping through doorways. Mr. Van Buren, as Vice-

President, presided with great dignity, and endeavored to conciliate

those Senators who were his rivals for the succession, but he had

often to hear his political course mercilessly criticised by them.

John C. Calhoun, who resigned the position of Vice-President that

he might be elected a Senator from South Carolina, differed from

his great contemporaries in the possession of a private character

above reproach. Whether this arose from the preponderance of the

intellectual over the animal in his nature, or the subjection of

his passions by discipline, was never determined by those who knew

the gifted South Carolinian best; but such was the fact. His

enemies could find no opprobrious appellation for him but "Catiline,"

instead of "Caldwell," which was his middle name--no crime but

ambition. He disregarded the unwritten laws of the Senate, which

required Senators to appear in dress suits of black broadcloth,

and asserted his State pride and State independence by wearing,

when the weather was warm, a suit of nankeen, made from nankeen

cotton grown in South Carolina. Mr. Calhoun had a pale and attenuated

look, as if in bad health; his long black hair was combed up from

his forehead and fell over the back of his head, and his thin lips

increased the effect of the acute look with which he always regarded

those around him. His personal intercourse with friends was

characterized by great gentleness of manner; he was an affectionate

and a devoted husband and father, and Webster truly remarked of

him that "he had no recreations, and never seemed to feel the

necessity of amusement."

Disappointed in his aspirations for the Presidency of the United

States, Mr. Calhoun conceived the idea of dissolving the Union and

establishing a Southern Confederacy, of which he would be the Chief

Executive. One of his projects, fearing that the success of the

main plot would be too long delayed for any benefit to inure to

him, was a proposed amendment to the Constitution, to make two

Presidents exist at the same time--one from the South and the other

from the other sections--and no act in regard to the interests of

the South was to be passed without the consent of the President

for that section. Of course, his plan was looked upon as puerile,

if not mischievous, and failed to attract much attention. His

whole soul was then bent on his main scheme, and he enlisted warm,

ardent, and talented followers in behalf of it; but little headway

was made in it outside of South Carolina.

President Jackson knew well what was going on, and was determined

that the law should be put into execution, not against misguided

followers, but against Calhoun, the chief conspirator. Calhoun,

hearing that Jackson had resolved upon his prosecution and trial,

and, if convicted, his execution for treason, sent Letcher, of

Kentucky, to confer with him and to learn his real intentions.

The President received Letcher with his usual courtesy; but that

mild blue eye, which at times would fill with tears like that of

a woman, was kindled up that night with unwonted fire. He explained

the situation to Letcher, and concluded by telling him that if

another step was taken, "by the Eternal!" he would try Calhoun for

treason, and, if convicted, he would hang him on a gallows as high

as Haman.

Letcher saw that Jackson was terribly in earnest, and hastened to

the lodgings of Calhoun, who had retired, but received him sitting

up in bed with his cloak around him. Letcher detailed all that

had occurred, giving entire the conversation with Jackson, and

described the old hero as he took that oath.

There sat Calhoun, drinking in eagerly every word, and, as Letcher

proceeded, he turned pale as death, and, great as he was in intellect,

trembled like an aspen leaf, not from fear or cowardice, but from

the consciousness of guilt. He was the arch traitor, who like

Satan in Paradise, "brought death into the world and all our woe."

Within one week he came into the Senate and voted--voted for every

section of Mr. Clay's bill--and President Jackson was prevailed

upon not to prosecute him for his crime.

During the last days of General Jackson at the Hermitage, while

slowly sinking under the ravages of consumption, he was one day

speaking of his Administration, and with glowing interest he inquired

of the physician:

"What act in my Administration, in your opinion, will posterity

condemn with the greatest severity?"

The physician replied that he was unable to answer, that it might

be the removal of the deposits.

"Oh! no," said the General.

"Then it may be the specie circular?"

"Not at all!"

"What is it, then?"

"I can tell you," said Jackson, rising in his bed, his eyes kindling

up--"I can tell you; posterity will condemn me more because I was

persuaded not to hang John C. Calhoun as a traitor than for any

other act in my life."

Daniel Webster's reply to Hayne was made the key-note of the

resistance by the Administration to Jefferson's assertion adopted

by Calhoun, "Where powers have been assumed which have not been

delegated, nullification is the rightful remedy." President

Jackson's proclamation against this doctrine of nullification--the

germ of secession--was written by Edward Livingston, his Secretary

of State, and it has been said that it followed, throughout, the

doctrine maintained by Mr. Webster in his reply to Hayne, in 1830.

So remarkable was this adoption of Mr. Webster's argument, that

popular opinion at that time regarded it as a manifest, but of

course a very excusable, plagiarism. Mr. Webster, when the

proclamation was issued, was on his way to Washington, ignorant of

what had occurred. At an inn in New Jersey he met a traveler just

from Washington. Neither of them was known to the other. Mr.

Webster inquired the news. "Sir," said the gentleman, "the President

has issued a proclamation against the nullifiers, taken entirely

from Mr. Webster's reply to Hayne." In the course of the ensuing

session, and not long after Mr. Webster reached the capital it

became necessary for the Administration to act. Mr. Webster was

in the opposition, and, excepting in regard to the integrity of

the Union and the just power of the Government, there was a wide

gulf between the Administration and him. He was absent from his

seat for several days when the Force bill was about to be introduced

as an Administration measure. A portion of General Jackson's

original supporters hung back from that issue. At this juncture

there was much inquiry among the President's friends in the House

as to where Mr. Webster was. At length a member of General Jackson's

Cabinet went to Mr. Webster's rooms, told him the nature of the

bill about to be introduced, and asked him, as a public duty, to

go into the Senate and defend the bill and the President. It is

well known to the whole country that Mr. Webster did so; and it is

known to me that General Jackson personally thanked him for his

powerful aid, that many of the President's best friends afterward

sought to make a union between him and Mr. Webster, and that nothing

continued to separate them but an irreconcilable difference of

opinion about the questions relating to the currency.

While Mr. Calhoun was undoubtedly the leading Democrat in the

Senate, after his return to that body, Mr. Benton was the recognized

leader of President Jackson's adherents in that body. His fierce

opposition to "Biddle and the Bank," with his prediction that the

time would come when there would be no paper money, but when every

laboring man would have a knit silk purse, through the meshes of

which the gold coin within could be seen, obtained for him the

sobriquet of "Old Bullion." His greatest triumph was the passage

of a resolution by the Senate "expunging" from its journal a

resolution censuring General Jackson for the removal of deposits

from the Bank of the United States. This expunging resolution was

kept before the Senate for nearly three years, and was then passed

by only five majority. The closing debate was able and exhaustive,

Henry Clay, John J. Crittenden, Thomas Ewing, William C. Rives,

William Hendricks, John M. Niles, Richard H. Bayard, and others

participating, while Daniel Webster read a protest signed by himself

and his sturdy colleague, John Davis. The Democrats had provided

a bountiful supply of refreshments in the room of the Committee on

Finance, and several Senators showed by their actions that they

were not members of the then newly organized Congressional Temperance

Society, before which Mr. Webster had delivered a brief address.

After the final vote--twenty-four years and nineteen nays--had been

taken, Mr. Benton moved that the Secretary carry into effect the

order of the Senate. Then the Secretary, Mr. Asbury Dickens,

opening the manuscript journal of 1834, drew broad black lines

around the obnoxious resolution and wrote across its face: "Expunged

by order of the Senate, this 16th day of January, in the year of

our Lord 1837."

No sooner had he concluded than hisses were heard, and Mr. King,

of Alabama, who occupied the chair, ordered the galleries to be

cleared, while Mr. Benton, in a towering rage, denounced the

offenders and demanded their arrest. "Here is one," said he, "just

above me, that may be easily be identified--the bank ruffian."

Mr. King revoked his order to clear the galleries, but directed

the arrest of the person pointed out by Mr. Benton, who was soon

brought before the bar of the Senate. It was Mr. Lloyd, a practicing

lawyer in Cleveland, Ohio, who was not permitted to say a word in

his own defense, but was soon discharged, after which the Senate

adjourned.

[Facsimile]

Thomas H. Benton

THOMAS HART BENTON was born near Hillsborough, North Carolina,

March 14th, 1782; was United States Senator from Missouri, 1821-

1851; a Representative in Congress from Missouri, 1853-1855; was

defeated as a candidate for re-election to Congress in 1854, and

as candidate for Governor of Missouri in 1856, and died at Washington

City, April 10th, 1858.

CHAPTER X.

PROMINENT MEN OF JACKSON'S TIME.

Henry Clay, after his return to the Senate, was the recognized

leader of the Whig Senators, for he would recognize no leader.

His oratory was persuasive and spirit-stirring. The fire of his

bright eyes and the sunny smile which lighted up his countenance

added to the attractions of his unequaled voice, which was equally

distinct and clear, whether at its highest key or lowest whisper--

rich, musical, captivating. His action was the spontaneous offspring

of the passing thought. He gesticulated all over. The nodding of

his head, hung on a long neck, his arms, hands, fingers, feet, and

even his spectacles, his snuff-box, and his pocket-handkerchief,

aided him in debate. He stepped forward and backward, and from

the right to the left, with effect. Every thought spoke; the whole

body had its story to tell, and added to the attractions of his

able arguments. But he was not a good listener, and he would often

sit, while other Senators were speaking, eating sticks of striped

peppermint candy, and occasionally taking a pinch of snuff from a

silver box that he carried, or from one that graced the table of

the Senate.

Occasionally, Mr. Clay was very imperious and displayed bad temper

in debate. Once he endeavored to browbeat Colonel Benton, bringing

up "Old Bullion's" personal recontre with General Jackson, and

charging the former with having said that, should the latter be

elected President, Congress must guard itself with pistols and

dirks. This Colonel Benton pronounced "an atrocious calumny."

"What," retorted Mr. Clay, "can you look me in the face, sir, and

say that you never used that language?" "I look," said Colonel

Benton, "and repeat that it is an atrocious calumny, and I will

pin it to him who repeats it here." Mr. Clay's face flushed with

rage as he replied: "Then I declare before the Senate that you

said the very words!" "False! false! false!" shouted Colonel

Benton, and the Senators interfered, Mr. Tazewell, who was in the

chair, calling the belligerents to order. After some discussion

of the questions of order, Colonel Benton said: "I apologize to

the Senate for the manner in which I have spoken--but not to the

Senator from Kentucky." Mr. Clay promptly added: "To the Senate

I also offer an apology--to the Senator from Missouri, none!" Half

an hour afterwards they shook hands, as lawyers often do who have

just before abused each other in court.

On another occasion, General Smith, of Baltimore, a Revolutionary

hero upward of eighty years of age, who had been a member of Congress

almost forty years, was one day the object of Henry Clay's wrath.

The old General, who had fought gallantly in the Revolutionary

struggle and taken up arms again in the War of 1812, was offensively

bullied by Mr. Clay, who said: "The honorable gentleman was in

favor of manufactures in 1822, but he has turned--I need not use

the word--he has thus abandoned manufactures. Thus

"'Old politicians chew on wisdom past

And totter on, in blunders, to the last.'"

The old General sprang to his feet. "The last allusion," said he,

"is unworthy of a gentleman. Totter, sir, I totter! Though some

twenty years older than the gentleman, I can yet stand firm, and

am yet able to correct his errors. I could take a view of the

gentleman's course, which would show how consistent he has been."

Mr. Clay exclaimed, angrily: "Take it, sir, take it--I dare you!"

Cries of "Order." "No, sir," said Mr. Smith, "I will not take it.

I will not so far disregard what is due to the dignity of the

Senate."

While Mr. Clay was generally imperious in debate, and not overcautious

in his choice of phrases and epithets, he was fond of a joke, and

often indulged, in an undertone, in humorous comments on the remarks

by other Senators. Sometimes he would be very happy in his

illustrations, and make the most of some passing incident. One

afternoon, when he was replaying to a somewhat heated opponent, a

sudden squall came up and rattled the window curtain so as to

produce a considerable noise. The orator stopped short in the

midst of his remarks and inquired aloud, what was the matter; and

then, as if divining the cause of the disturbance, he said: "Storms

seem to be coming in upon us from all sides." The observation,

though trivial as related, was highly amusing under the circumstances

which gave rise to it and from the manner in which it was uttered.

When Henry Clay returned to the Senate, Daniel Webster yielded to

him the leadership of the Whigs in that body, but in no way sacrificed

his own independence. "The Great Expounder of the Constitution,"

as he was called, was then in the prime of life, and had not began

those indulgences which afterward exercised such injurious effects

upon him. He would also occasionally indulge in a grim witticism.

On one occasion, when a Senator who was jeering another for some

pedantry said, "The honorable gentleman may proceed to quote from

Crabbe's Synonyms, from Walker and Webster"--"Not from Walker and

Webster," exclaimed the Senator from Massachusetts, "for the

authorities may disagree!" At another time, when he was speaking

on the New York Fire bill, the Senate clock suddenly began to

strike, and after it had struck continuously for about fourteen or

fifteen times, Mr. Webster stopped, and said to the presiding

officer, "The clock is out of order, sir--I have the floor." The

occupant of the chair looking rebukingly at the refractory time-

piece, but in defiance of the officers and rules of the House, it

struck about forty before the Sergeant-at-Arms could stop it, Mr.

Webster standing silent, while every one else was laughing.

On another occasion, while Mr. Webster was addressing the Senate

in presenting a memorial, a clerical-looking person in one of the

galleries arose and shouted: "My friends, the country is on the

brink of destruction! Be sure that you act on correct principles.

I warn you to act as your consciences may approve. God is looking

down upon you, and if you act on correct principles you will get

safely through." He then deliberately stepped back, and retired

from the gallery before the officers of the Senate could reach him.

Mr. Webster was, of course, surprised at this extraordinary

interruption; but when the shrill voice of the enthusiast had

ceased, he coolly resumed his remarks, saying, "As the gentleman

in the gallery has concluded, I will proceed."

Mr. Cuthbert, of Georgia, was much provoked, one day, by a scathing

denunciation of his State by Mr. Clay for the manner in which she

had treated the Cherokee Indians. As the eloquent Kentuckian dwelt

more in sorrow than in anger upon the wrongs and outrages perpetrated

in Georgia upon the unoffending aborigines within her borders, many

of his hearers were affected to tears, and he himself was obviously

deeply moved. No sooner did Mr. Clay resume his seat than Mr.

Cuthbert sprang to his feet, and in an insolent tone alluded to

what he called the theatrical manner of the speaker. "What new

part will Roscius next enact?" said the Senator from Georgia, coming

forward from his desk and standing in the area of the hall. He

was a man of about the ordinary height, with a round face pitted

with the smallpox, small, dark eyes, and a full forehead. As he

spoke he twirled his watch-key incessantly with his right hand,

while his left was flung about in the most unmeaning and awkward

gestures. He twisted his body right and left, forward and backward,

as if he were a Chinese mandarin going through a stated number of

evolutions before his emperor; in fact, he had "all the contortions

of the sybil, without her inspiration." To this display Mr. Clay

seemed entirely oblivious, but after Judge White, of Tennessee,

had discussed the pending question, Mr. Clay rose, saying, that he

would reply to this gentleman's remarks as "they alone were worthy

of notice."

In the House of Representatives, during the Jackson Administration,

sectional topics were rife, sectional jealousies were high, and

partisan warfare was unrelenting. Andrew Stevenson, of Virginia,

who was triumphantly re-elected as Speaker for four successive

terms, understood well how to keep down the boiling caldron, and

to exercise stern authority, tempered with dignity and courtesy,

over heated passions of the fiercest conflicting character. When

he was transferred from the Speaker's chair to the Court of St.

James, John Bell, of Tennessee, an old supporter of General Jackson,

became his successor for the remainder of that session, but at the

commencement of the next Congress Mr. Van Buren secured the election

of James K. Polk. Mr. Bell, on his next visit to Nashville, threw

down the gauntlet, in an able speech, and nominated Judge White.

This was the foundation of the White party, which had, as its

editorial henchman, the Rev. Mr. Brownlow, known as "the fighting

Parson," who soon acquired a national reputation by his defiant

personalities in debate and by his trenchant editorial articles in

the newspapers of East Tennessee. Mr. Brownlow was at that time

a tall, spare man, with long, black hair, black eyes, and a sallow

complexion. He was devoted to the Methodist Church and to the

White--afterward the Whig--party, and the denominational doctrines

of immersion and the political dogmas of emancipation from slavery

were objects of his intense hatred.

While Mr. Stevenson was Speaker, General Samuel Houston, who had

been residing among the Indians on the Southwestern frontier for

several years, came to Washington. Taking offense at some remarks

made in debate by Mr. Vance, a representative from Ohio, Houston

assaulted and severely pounded him. The House voted that Houston

should be brought before the bar and reprimanded by the Speaker,

which was done, although Mr. Stevenson's reprimand was really

complimentary. That night a friend of General Houston, with a

bludgeon and a pistol, attacked Mr. Arnold, of Tennessee, who had

been active in securing the reprimand, but the latter soon got the

best of the encounter.

The first man elected to Congress as a representative of the rights

of the laboring classes was Eli Moore, a New York journeyman printer,

who had organized trades unions and successfully engineered several

strikes by mechanics against their employers. He was a thin,

nervous man, with keen, dark hazel eyes, long black hair brushed

back behind his ears, and a strong, clear voice which rang through

the hall like the sound of a trumpet. He especially distinguished

himself in a reply to General Waddy Thompson, of South Carolina,

who had denounced the mechanics of the North as willing tools of

the Abolitionists. With impetuous force and in tones tremulous

with emotion, he denounced aristocracy and advocated the equality

of all men. The House listened with attention, and a Southern

politician exclaimed to one of his old colleagues, "Why, this is

the high-priest of revolution singing his war song." What added

to the effect of this remarkable speech was its dramatic termination.

Just as he had entered upon his peroration he grew deathly pale,

his eyes closed, his outstretched hands clutched at vacancy, he

reeled forward, and fell insensible. His friends rushed to his

support, and his wife, who was in the gallery, screamed with terror.

His physician positively prohibited his speaking again, and in

subsequent years, when the Democratic party was in power, he enjoyed

the positions of Indian Agent under Polk, and of Land Agent under

Pierce.

Ransom H. Gillet, of the Ogdensburgh district, was one of the old

"Jackson Democratic War-Horses." He was a man of commanding

presence, a ready speaker, and a famous manipulator of opinion at

Conventions.

By birth a North Carolinian, Churchill C. Cambreleng was by adoption

a New Yorker, and by strict attention to business he had become

one of the merchant princes of the commercial metropolis. Thirty

years of age, with a commanding presence, a good voice, a ready

command of language, and a practical knowledge of financial matters,

he made an excellent Chairman of the Committee on Ways and Means

and leader of the Jackson men in the House.

He carried business habits into Congress, and passed much of his

time at his desk, laboriously answering every letter addressed to

him by his constituents or others, or carefully examining papers

referred to his Committee. But he was always on the alert, and if

in debate any political opponent let slip a word derogatory to the

Administration, Mr. Cambreleng was at once on his feet with a

pertinent retort or a skillful explanation. He was noted for his

liberality, and neither the district charities or his needy

constituents ever appealed to him in vain.

The Whigs, during the Jackson Administration, made much of David

Crockett, of Tennessee, who was a thorn in the sides of the Democrats,

and they succeeded in having him defeated for one Congress, but he

was successful at the next election. He was a true frontiersman,

with a small dash of civilization and a great deal of shrewdness

transplanted in political life. He was neither grammatical nor

graceful, but no rudeness of language can disguise strong sense

and shrewdness, and a "demonstration," as Bulwer says, "will force

its way through all perversions of grammar." Some one undertook

to publish his life, but he promptly denied the authenticity of

the work, and had a true memoir of himself written and published.

This was a successful literary venture, and he next published a

burlesque life of Van Buren, "heir apparent to the Government, and

appointed successor of Andrew Jackson," which, in the mixture of

truth, error, wit, sense, and nonsense in about equal parts, has

certainly the merit even at this day of being entertaining.

Crockett's favorite expression was, "Be sure you're right, then go

ahead." When Texas commenced its struggle for independence he went

there, and was killed while gallantly fighting at San Antonio.

His son, John W. Crockett, served two terms in Congress, was Attorney-

General of Tennessee, edited a paper at New Orleans, and died at

Memphis in 1852.

Among the other members of the House of Representatives in Jackson's

time were several who afterward occupied high positions in the

Federal Government. Franklin Pierce, a courteous gentleman, the

son of a brave Revolutionary soldier, had been sent from New

Hampshire by a large majority, and laid the foundation of personal

friendships upon which he afterward entered the White House as

President. Millard Fillmore, hale and hearty in personal appearance,

represented his home at Buffalo. He soon acquired a reputation

for performing his committee work with scrupulous fidelity, and

winning the confidence of his colleagues, while advancing on all

proper occasions the interests of his constituents, who rejoiced

when he became President after the death of Taylor. James Knox

Polk, of Tennessee, a rigid Presbyterian, an uncompromising Democrat,

and a zealous Freemason, was another Representative who subsequently

became President.

There were several other prominent men in the House: Richard Mentor

Johnson, a burly and slightly educated Kentucky Indian-fighter,

who enjoyed the reputation of having killed Tecumseh at the battle

of the Thames, was elected a few years later on the Van Buren ticket

Vice-President of the United States, but was defeated in the Harrison

campaign four years later; and John Bell, a Whig of commanding

presence and great practical sagacity, who was afterward Senator

and Secretary of War, and who was defeated when he ran on the

Presidential ticket of the Constitutional Union party, in 1860.

Elisha Whittlesey, of Ohio, who after sixteen years of Congressional

service became an auditor, and was known as "the Watch Dog of the

Treasury." Tom Corwin, of the same State, with a portly figure,

swarthy complexion, and wonderful facial expression, and an

inexhaustible flow of wit, who was not a buffoon, but a gentleman

whose humor was natural, racy, and chaste. Gulian C. Verplanck

and Thomas J. Oakley, two members of the New York bar, who represented

that city, were statesmen rather than politicians. John Chambers,

of Kentucky, a gigantic economist, was ever ready to reform small

expenditures and willing to overlook large ones. And then there

was the ponderous Dixon H. Lewis, of Alabama, the largest man who

ever occupied a seat in Congress--so large that chairs had to be

made expressly for his use.

General James Findlay, who had served creditably in the War of

1812, was a Jackson Democratic Representative in the days of the

contest between "Old Hickory" and "Biddle's Bank." He was a type

of a gentleman of the old school, and he recalled Washington Irving's

picture of the master of Bracebridge Hall. The bluff and hearty

manner, the corpulent person, and the open countenance of the

General, his dress of the aristocratic blue and buff, and his gold-

headed cane, all tallied with the descriptions of the English

country gentleman of the olden time. He was greatly beloved in

Ohio, and several anecdotes are told of his kindness in enforcing

the claims of the United States, when he was Receiver of the District

Land Office, for lands sold on credit, as was the custom in those

days. Upon one occasion there had been a time of general tightness

in money matters, and many farms in the region northeast of Cincinnati

but partly paid for were forfeited to the Government. In the

discharge of his official duty General Findlay attended at the

place of sale. He learned, soon after his arrival there, that many

speculators were present prepared to purchase these lands. Mounting

a stump, he opened the sale. He designated the lands forfeited,

and said that he was there to offer them to the highest bidder.

He said that the original purchasers were honest men, but that in

consequence of the hard times they had failed to meet their

engagements. It was hard, thus to be forced from their homes

already partly paid for. But the law was imperative, and the lands

must be offered. "And now," continued he, "I trust that there is

no gentleman--no, I will not say that, I hope there is no rascal--

here so mean as to buy his neighbor's home over his head. Gentlemen,

I offer this lot for sale. Who bids?" There was no forfeited land

sold that day.

A spirited bronze statue of Jefferson, by his admirer, the French

sculptor, David d'Angers, was presented to Congress by Lieutenant

Uriah P. Levy, but Congress declined to accept it, and denied it

a position in the Capitol. It was then reverentially taken in

charge by two naturalized Irish citizens, stanch Democrats, and

placed on a small pedestal in front of the White House. One of

these worshipers of Jefferson was the public gardener, Jemmy Maher,

the other was John Foy, keeper of the restaurant in the basement

of the Capitol, and famous for his witty sayings. Prominent among

his _bon mots_ was an encomium of Representative Dawson, of Louisiana,

who was noted for his intemperate habits, the elaborate ruffles of

his shirts, and his pompous strut. "He came into me place," said

Foy, "and after ateing a few oysters he flung down a Spanish dollar,

saying, 'Niver mind the change, Mr. Foy; kape it for yourself.'

Ah! there's a paycock of a gintleman for you."

[Facsimile]

Richard Johnson

RICHARD MENTOR JOHNSON was born at Bryant's Station, Kentucky,

October 17th, 1781; distinguished himself in the second war with

Great Britain, and in the Indian wars; was a Representative in

Congress from Kentucky, 1807-1813; was a United States Senator,

1820-1829; was again a Representative, 1829-1837; was Vice-President,

1837-1841; died at Frankfort, November 19th, 1850.

CHAPTER XI.

SOCIETY IN JACKSON'S TIME.

The most elegant estate in Washington in Jackson's time was the

Van Ness mansion, built on the bank of the Potomac, at the foot of

Seventeenth Street. Mr. John Van Ness, when a member of the House

from the State of New York, had married Marcia, the only child of

David Burns, one of the original proprietors of the land on which

the Federal City was located. At that time every able-bodied man

between eighteen and forty-five (with a few exceptions) had to

perform militia duty, and the District Volunteers, organizing

themselves into a battalion, complimented Mr. Van Ness by electing

him Major. The President commissioned him, but so strict were the

Congressmen of those days that the House investigated his case,

and declared that he had forfeited his seat as a Representative by

accepting a commission from the General Government. For the empty

honor of wearing a militia uniform three or four times a year, and

paying a large share of the music assessments, Major Van Ness lost

his seat in Congress.

David Burns died soon after his daughter's marriage, and she

dutifully conveyed to her husband, through the intervention of a

trustee, her paternal inheritance. With a portion of the fortune

thus acquired, Major Van Ness built near the old Burns cottage a

villa which cost thirty thousand dollars, and was a palace fit for

a king. Entertainments the most costly were inaugurated and

maintained in it; wit and song were heard within it, and elegance

and distinction assembled under its hospitable shelter. From its

door-step one could see ships from Europe moored to the docks of

Alexandria, while gliding by daily on the river beside it were

merchantmen from the West Indies, laden for the port of Georgetown.

Major Van Ness and Marcia Burns lived very happily together and

had one child, a daughter, who grew into womanhood, married, and

died a year after her marriage, ere the flowers in her bridal wreath

had faded. Mrs. Van Ness loved her daughter with a love that was

idolatry, and with her death she received a blow from which she

never recovered. She abandoned all the gayeties of the world, and

laid aside her sceptre and crown as queen of society. In the

charity school and orphan-asylum, by the bedside of the sick and

dying, and in the homes of poverty, relieving its wants, she was

found to the day of her death. Her last words to her grief-stricken

husband and friends assembled about her bedside were: "Heaven

bless and protect you; never mind me." The Mayor and City Government

passed appropriate resolutions, and attended her funeral.

Major Van Ness erected a mausoleum after the pattern of the Temple

of Vesta, at a cost of thirty-four thousand dollars, and placed

within it his wife's remains and those of her father and mother.

The stately pile stood in a large inclosure for years on H Street,

beside the orphan asylum which Mrs. Van Ness richly endowed.

Finally the march of improvement, needing all the space available

within the city limits, necessitated the removal of the mausoleum

to Oak Hill Cemetery, in Georgetown, where the remains of John

Howard Payne were subsequently re-interred.

Major Van Ness himself enjoyed everything that worldly preferment

could bestow. By turns he was president of a bank and Mayor of

Washington, yet with his ample fortune he was always short of ready

money. He was never pressed by suit, however, for his good nature

was as irresistible as the man was fascinating; the dun who came

with a bill and a frown went away with a smile and--his bill. He

lived to be seventy-six years of age, when--like the patriarchs of

old--he died, full of honor and greatness, and, leaving no direct

issue, his property passed into the hands of collateral heirs.

They were sensible heirs, who did not seek to intervention of courts

and lawyers for a distribution of their interests, but wisely and

amicably distributed them themselves. The law, however, was

determined not to be entirely shunned. If the heirs would not go

to law, the law was accommodating--it would come to them, and it

came with a romance.

One day, soon after the death of Major Van Ness, a buxom, matronly

looking dame, in heavy mourning and with tear-dimmed eyes, came

upon the scene and claimed a share of the estate. They naturally

inquired her name and address, and she modestly, but firmly, told

them she was the widow of the deceased by virtue of a clandestine

marriage which had occurred in Philadelphia. The heirs mistook

her modesty for an attempt at blackmail, and acted as defendants

in the suit which she instituted. The trial is one of the celebrated

cases of the District of Columbia. It lasted upward of a month.

Eminent counsel were in it, and many witnesses came to prove the

truth of opposite facts. There was no doubt that Van Ness had

known the widow and had visited her, for love letters were read in

court from him to her; there was no doubt that some ceremony,

sanctioned by a minister's presence, had been performed and assisted

at by both together, but the requisite formalities to constitute

a valid marriage were not fully proven, and the jury disagreed.

The matronly dame in heavy mourning did not murmur: luck was against

her, and she accepted her luck. She left Washington and never

pressed her suit to a second trial, nor further harassed the heirs.

Miss Ann G. Wright, a cousin of Mrs. Van Ness, created a great

sensation in Washington by coming to her house for a home. She

was a runaway nun from the Convent of the Visitation in Georgetown,

and had been known in the community as Sister Gertrude. No one

ever knew rightly the cause of her sudden departure from the convent.

Some said it was disappointed ambition in not being appointed

superioress; others, that it was a case of love; but she never

told, and the ladies of the convent were just as reticent. She

became an inmate of the elegant Van Ness mansion and was a noted

and brilliant women in society. It is said that she had written

a book, exposing the inner life of the convent, to be published

after her death, but I have never heard of its appearance. A few

years after she left the convent she accompanied the family of the

American Minister to Spain, and resided for some time at Madrid,

where she was a great favorite in Court circles.

General Jackson was not cultured or accomplished, but he had a

strong, well-balanced mind, and he would go through forests of

sophistry and masses of legal opinions straight to the point.

Governor Wise, who admired him greatly, used to tell a story

illustrative of the rough bark of Old Hickory's character. During

the Administration of President Monroe, General Jackson, in command

of some troops, invaded Florida and captured Arbuthnot and Ambrister,

two Englishmen, who, it was charged incited the Indians to

depredations. He at once ordered a court-martial and had them

hanged, with but little time to prepare for their future place of

abode. He was arraigned for the offense before the Cabinet of Mr.

Monroe, and Mr. Adams, the Secretary of State, defended him on the

high ground of international law as expounded by Grotius, Vattel,

and Puffendorf. Jackson, who had quarreled with Mr. Monroe, was

disposed to regard the matter as entirely personal. "Confound

Grotius! confound Vattel! confound Puffendorf!" said he; "this is

a mere matter between Jim Monroe and me."

Having received a complimentary letter from President Bustamente,

of Mexico, General Jackson sent it to the Department of State with

this indorsement: "Mr. Van Buren will reply to this letter of

General Bustamente with the frankness of a soldier." When this

reached Mr. Van Buren he laughed heartily, as he was neither a

soldier nor remarkable for frankness, and the clerks could not keep

a secret.

Although many old citizens, whose relatives and near friends had

been turned out of their pleasant offices by the Jackson Administration,

kept quite aloof from the White House, there was no lack of social

enjoyments at Washington. Mr. Forsyth, the Secretary of State,

gave a series of balls, and there were large parties at the residences

of Mr. Dickerson, Secretary of the Navy, Major-General Macomb,

General Miller, and other prominent men, each one in numbers and

guests almost a repetition of the other. Mr. Van Buren was at all

of them, shaking hands with everybody, glad to see everybody, asking

about everybody's friends, and trusting that everybody was well.

Colonel Richard M. Johnson was also to be seen at all public

gatherings, looking, in his scarlet waistcoat and ill-fitting coat,

not as the killer of Tecumseh, but as the veritable Tecumseh himself.

Mr. Webster was seldom seen at public parties, but Messrs. Clay

and Calhoun were generally present, with the foreign Ministers and

their suites, who were the only wearers of mustaches in those days.

There were the magnates of the Senate and the House, each one great

in his own estimation, with the _chevaliers a'industrie_, who lived

as by their wits, upon long credits and new debts, and there were

strangers congregated from all sections of the country, some having

business before Congress, and others having come to see how the

country was governed. Every one, on his arrival, would take a

carriage and leave cards for the heads of departments, foreign

Ministers, leading army and navy officers, and prominent members

of Congress. This would bring in return the cards of these magnates

and invitations to their next party.

Mr. Clay was a good _raconteur_, and always had a story to illustrate

his opinions advanced in conversation. One day, when he had been

complimented on his neat, precise handwriting, always free from

blots, interlineations, and erasures, he spoke about the importance

of writing legibly, and told an amusing story about a Cincinnati

grocery-man, who, finding the market short of cranberries, and

under the impression that the fruit could be purchased cheaply at

a little town in Kentucky, wrote to a customer there acquainting

him with the fact and requesting him to send "one hundred bushels

per Simmons" (the wagoner usually sent). The correspondent, a

plain, uneducated man, had considerable difficulty in deciphering

the fashionable scrawl common with merchants' clerks of late years,

and the most important word, "cranberries," he failed to make out,

but he did plainly and clearly read--one hundred bushels persimmons.

As the article was growing all around him, all the boys in the

neighborhood were set to gathering it, and the wagoner made his

appearance in due time in Cincinnati with eighty bushels, all that

the wagon body would hold, and a line from the country merchant

that the remainder would follow the next trip. An explanation soon

ensued, but the customer insisted that the Cincinnati house should

have written _by_ Simmons and not _per_ Simmons. Who paid the loss

history doth not record.

One more of Mr. Clay's stories which he used to tell with dramatic

effect: As he was coming here one November the stage stopped for

the passengers to get supper at a little town on the mountain side,

where there had been a militia muster that afternoon. When the

stage was ready to start, the Colonel, in full regimentals, but

somewhat inebriated, insisted on riding with the driver, thinking,

doubtless, that the fresh air would restore him. It was not long,

though, before he fell off into the mud. The coach stopped, of

course, for the Colonel to regain his seat. He soon gathered up,

when the following colloquy ensued: "Well, driver (hic), we've

had quite a turn (hic) over, haint we?" "No, we have not turned

over at all." "I say (hic) we have." "No, you are mistaken, you

only fell off." "I say we (hic) _have;_ I'll leave it (hic) to

the com-(hic)-pany. Haven't we (hic) had a turn (hic) over,

gentlemen?" Being assured they had not, "Well, driver (hic)," said

he, "if I'd known that (hic) I wouldn't a got out."

The automaton chess-player and other pieces of mechanism exhibited

by Monsieur Maelzel were very popular at Washington. The chess-

player was the figure of a Turk of the natural size, sitting behind

a chest three feet and a-half in height, to which was attached the

wooden seat on which the figure sat. On the top of the chest was

an immovable chess-board, upon which the eyes of the figure were

fixed. Its right hand and arm were extended on the chest, and its

left, somewhat raised, held a pipe. Several doors in the chest

and in the body of the figure having been opened, and a candle held

within the cavities thus displayed, the doors were closed, the

exhibitor wound up the works, placed a cushion under the arm of

the figure, and challenged any individual of the company present

to play.

In playing, the automaton always made choice of the first move and

the white pieces. It also played with the left arm--the inventor,

as it was said, not having perceived the mistake till his work was

too far advanced to alter it. The hand and fingers opened on

touching the piece, which it grasped and conveyed to the proper

square. After a move made by its antagonist, the automaton paused

for a few moments, as if contemplating the game. On giving check

to the king, it made a signal with its head. If a false move was

made by its antagonist it tapped on the chest impatiently, replaced

the piece, and claimed the move for itself as an advantage. If

the antagonist delayed any considerable time the automaton tapped

smartly on the chest with the right hand. At the close of the game

the automaton moved the knight, with its proper motion, over each

of the sixty-three squares of the board in turn, without missing

one, and without a single return to the same square.

Although positive proof was wanting, it was generally believed that

the movements of the figure were directed by a slender person

adroitly concealed behind what was apparently a mass of machinery.

This machinery was always exhibited when in a fixed state, but

carefully excluded from view when in motion. It was noticed by

anxious observers that no variation ever took place in the precise

order in which the doors were opened, thus giving the concealed

player an opportunity to change his position. In what was apparently

the winding up of the machine the key always appeared limited to

a certain number of revolutions, however different the number of

moves in the preceding game might have been. On one occasion sixty-

three moves were executed without winding up, and once it was

observed that it was wound up without the intervention of a single

move.

Monsieur Maelzel also exhibited an automaton trumpeter, life size,

attired in a full British uniform. It was rolled out before the

audience and performed several marches and patriotic airs. A

miniature rope-dancer performed some curious feats, and small

figures, when their hands were shaken, ejaculated the words, "Papa!"

and "Mamma!" in a life-like manner. But the crowning glory of

Monsieur Maelzel's exhibition was a panorama, scenic and mechanical,

of the "Burning of Moscow." The view of the Russian capital, with

its domes and minarets, was a real work of art. Then the great

bell of the Kremlin began to toll, and the flames could be seen

making their way from building to building. A bridge in the

foreground was covered with figures, representing the flying citizens

escaping with their household treasures. They were followed by a

regiment of French infantry, headed by its band, and marching with

the precision of veterans. Meanwhile the flames had begun to ascend

the spires and domes, and the deep tolling of the bells was echoed

by the inspiring strains of martial music. At last, as the last

platoon of Frenchmen crossed the bridge, the Kremlin was blown up

with a loud explosion, and the curtain fell.

Mrs. Alexander Hamilton, the widow of the founder of our financial

system, passed a good portion of the latter part of her life at

Washington, and finally died there. She was the first to introduce

ice-cream at the national metropolis, and she used to relate with

rare humor the delight displayed by President Jackson when he first

tasted it. He liked it much, and swore, "By the Eternal!" that he

would have ices at the White House. The guests at the next reception

were agreeably surprised with this delicacy, especially those from

the rural districts, who, after approaching it suspiciously, melting

each spoonful with their breath before consuming it, expressed

their satisfaction by eating all that could be provided. Mrs.

Hamilton was very much troubled by the pamphlet which her husband

had published when Secretary of the Treasury, in which he avowed

an intrigue with the wife of one of his clerks, to exculpate himself

from a charge that he had permitted this clerk to speculate on the

action of the Treasury Department. Mrs. Hamilton for some years

paid dealers in second-hand books five dollars a copy for every

copy of this pamphlet which they brought her. One year the number

presented was unusually large, and she accidentally ascertained

that a cunning dealer in old books in New York had had the pamphlet

reprinted, and was selling her copies at five dollars each which

had cost him but about ten cents each. She possessed a good many

souvenirs of her illustrious husband, one of which, now in the

writer's possession, was the copper camp-kettle which General

Hamilton had while serving on the staff of the illustrious

Washington.

[Facsimile]

Alexander Stephens

ALEXANDER HAMILTON STEPHENS was born in Wilkes County, Georgia,

February 11th, 1812; was a member of the House of Representatives,

December 4th, 1843 to March 3d, 1859; was Vice-President of the

Southern Confederacy; was again a member of the United States

Congress, October 15th, 1877, to January 1st, 1882; was Governor

of Georgia, and died at Crawfordsville, Georgia, March 4th, 1883.

CHAPTER XII.

JACKSON AND HIS ASSOCIATES.

President Jackson's friends celebrated the 8th of January, 1835,

by giving a grand banquet. It was not only the anniversary of the

battle of New Orleans, but on that day the last installment of the

national debt had been paid. Colonel Benton presided, and when

the cloth was removed he delivered an exulting speech. "The national

debt," he exclaimed, "is paid! This month of January, 1835, in

the fifty-eighth year of the Republic, Andrew Jackson being President,

the national debt is paid! and the apparition, so long unseen on

earth--a great nation without a national debt!--stands revealed to

the astonished vision of a wondering world! Gentlemen," he concluded,

"my heart is in this double celebration, and I offer you a sentiment

which, coming direct from my own bosom, will find its response in

yours: 'PRESIDENT JACKSON: May the evening of his days be as

tranquil and as happy for himself as their meridian has been

resplendent, glorious, and beneficent for his country.'"

A few weeks later, as President Jackson was leaving the Capitol,

where he had been to attend the funeral of Representative Davis,

of South Carolina, a man advanced toward him from the crowd, leveled

a pistol, and fired it. The percussion-cap exploded without

discharging the pistol, and the man, dropping it, raised a second

one, which also missed fire. General Jackson's rage was roused by

the explosion of the cap, and, lifting his cane, he rushed toward

his assailant, who was knocked down by Lieutenant Gedney, of the

Navy, before Jackson could reach him. The man was an English house-

painter named Lawrence, who had been for some months out of work,

and who, having heard that the opposition of General Jackson to

the United States Bank had paralyzed the industries of the country,

had conceived the project of assassinating him. The President

himself was not disposed to believe that the plot originated in

the crazy brain of Lawrence, whom he regarded as the tool of

political opponents. A protracted examination, however, failed to

afford the slightest proof of this theory, although General Jackson

never doubted it for a moment. He was fortified in this opinion

by the receipt of anonymous letters, threatening assassination,

all of which he briefly indorsed and sent to Mr. Blair for publication

in the _Globe_.

The heads of the executive departments, believing that "to the

victors belong the spoils," did not leave an acknowledged anti-

Jackson Democrat in office, either in Washington city or elsewhere,

with a very few exceptions. One of these was General Miller,

Collector of the Port of Salem, Massachusetts. The leading Jackson

Democrats in Massachusetts petitioned the President for his removal

as incompetent and a political opponent, and they presented the

name of a stanch Jackson Democrat for the position. The appointment

was made, and the name of the new Collector was sent to the Senate

for confirmation. Colonel Benton, who had been made acquainted

with the facts, requested that no action be taken until he could

converse with the President. Going to the White House the next

morning, he said to General Jackson, "Do you know who is the

Collector of Customs at Salem, Mr. President, whom you are about

to remove?" "No, sir," replied General Jackson; "I can't think of

his name, but Nat. Green and Ben. Hallett have told me that he is

an incompetent old New England Hartford Convention Federalist."

"Mr. President," said Colonel Benton, "the man you propose to turn

out is General Miller, who fought so bravely at the battle of

Bridgewater." "What!" exclaimed General Jackson, "not the brave

Miller who, when asked if he could take the British battery,

exclaimed 'I'll try,'" "It is the same man, Mr. President,"

responded Benton. General Jackson rang his bell, and when a servant

appeared, said, "Tell Colonel Donelson I want him, quick!" When

the private secretary entered, the President said, "Donelson, I

want the name of the fellow I nominated for Collector of Salem

withdrawn instantly. Then write a letter to General Miller and

tell him that he shall be Collector of Salem as long as Andrew

Jackson is President."

Learning that some of the Pension Agents had been withholding

portions of the pensions due to Revolutionary veterans, General

Jackson had the charges thoroughly investigated, and a list of the

pensioners printed, showing what each one was entitled to receive.

This disclosed the fact that some of the Pension Agents had been

continuing to draw the pensions of deceased soldiers for years

after their death, besides retaining portions of the pensions of

others. Robert Temple, Pension Agent in Vermont, on hearing of

the proposed investigation, hastened to Washington, where he

endeavored to bribe a clerk to falsify the list made out for the

printer. The clerk obtained from him a list of sixty names of

deceased soldiers whose pensions he had continued to draw, and gave

it to the Secretary of War. Temple, on learning this, committed

suicide.

There were a few veteran office-holders at Washington, whose

ancestors had been appointed under Federal rule, but who had managed

to veer around into Jackson Democracy. Mr. Webster, in speaking

one day of a Philadelphia family which had thus kept in place, said

that they reminded him of Simeon Alleyn, Vicar of Bray, in Old

England, who steered his bark safely through four conflicting

successive reigns. A bland gentleman, he was first a Papist, then

a Protestant, next a Papist, and lastly a Protestant again. "He

must have been at times," said Mr. Webster, "terribly confused

between gowns and robes, and," continued the Senator, "I can fancy

him listening at his window to the ballad written on him, as trolled

forth by some graceless varlets:

"'To teach my flock I never missed;

Kings were by God appointed,

And they are damned who dare resist

Or touch the Lord's anointed;

And this in law I will maintain

Until my dying day, sir,

That whosoever king shall reign,

I'll be the Vicar of Bray, sir.'"

Mr. Webster was not only fond of repeating quotations from the old

English poets, but also verses from the old Sternhold and Hopkins

hymn-book, which he had studied in the Salisbury meeting-house when

a boy, and sometimes when alone he would sing, or rather chant,

them in his deep voice, without a particle of melody. His favorite

verses were the following translation of the xviiith Psalm:

"The Lord descended from above,

And bow'd the heavens high;

And underneath His feet He cast

The darkness of the sky.

"On cherubs and on cherubims

Full royally He rode,

And on the wings of all the winds

Came flying all abroad."

Late in the Jackson Administration, Richard H. Bayard came to

Washington as a Senator from Delaware, to fill a vacancy caused by

the resignation of Arnold Naudain. He was the son of James Asheton

Bayard, originally a stanch Federalist, who had followed his father-

in-law, Richard Bassett, as a Senator from Delaware, and whose vote

had made Thomas Jefferson President of the United States instead

of Aaron Burr. He had afterward been one of the Commission which

negotiated the treaty of Ghent, and he educated his sons to succeed

him in the Senate, and in turn to qualify a grandson to represent

his State in the upper branch of the National Council. No one

family has furnished so many United States Senators, and they have

all been inspired by the knightly courtesy of the Bayard of the

olden time, who was "without fear and without reproach."

The Democratic Bayards were antagonized in Jackson's time by the

Whig Claytons, the other Delaware chair in the United States Senate

having been occupied since 1829 by John Middleton Clayton. He was

an accomplished lawyer, and one of the leaders of the Whig party.

Under his direction Delaware was a Whig State, and had it been a

larger one, Mr. Clayton would doubtless have been nominated to the

Vice-Presidency, if not to the Presidency. He was zealously devoted

to his party, and when, later in life, a delegation waited on him

to question some of his acts as not in accordance with Whig

principles, he rose, and drawing himself up to his full height,

exclaimed: "What! unwhig me? Me, who was a Whig when you gentlemen

were riding cornstalk horses in your fathers' barnyards?" The

delegation asked his pardon for having doubted his party loyalty,

and at once withdrew.

James Alfred Pearce, of Maryland, entered the House of Representatives

during the Jackson Administration, and was successively re-elected

(with the exception of a single term) until he was transferred to

the Senate in 1843, and served in that body until his death in

1862. He was another "wheel horse" of the Whig party, although he

shrank from political controversy. His home friends, who were very

proud of his reputation, brought him forward at one time as a

candidate for the Presidency. But he refused to permit his name

to be used, on the ground that the burdens of the White House were

too costly a price to pay for its honors.

Mr. Pearce was a devoted friend of the Congressional Library, and

during his long service on the Committee having it in charge he

selected the books purchased. In doing this he excluded all works

calculated in his opinion to engender sectional differences, and

when the _Atlantic Monthly_ was established he refused to order it

for the Library. He was the founder of the Botanic Garden, and

the Coast Survey was another object of his especial attention and

favor.

Mr. Pearce's care in the choice of books was my no means a notion

of his own. From the founding of the Library it was the policy of

many of its warmest friends to exclude every publication which

would engender and foster sectional differences. They went on the

principle of concealing difficulties, rather than of facing them

squarely. Very different is the broader policy now maintained in

this great library, on whose shelves every copyrighted book of the

United States now finds a place.

Mr. Pearce was a type of the gentleman of the old school. Tall,

with a commanding figure, expressive features, blue eyes, and light

hair, he was a brilliant conversationalist and a welcome guest at

dinner.

Senator William C. Preston, of South Carolina, was not only one of

the foremost orators in the Senate, but a delightful conversationalist,

with an inexhaustible fund of reminiscence and anecdote. One of

his colleagues in the House of Representatives, Mr. Warren R. Davis,

of the Pendleton district, was equally famed as a story-teller,

and when they met at a social board they monopolized the conversation,

to the delight of the other guests, who listened with attention

and with admiration.

One evening--as the story is told--at a dinner-party, over the

Madeira and walnuts, which formed the invariable last course in

those days, Mr. Preston launched forth in a eulogium on the

extraordinary power of condensation, in both thought and expression,

which characterized the ancient Greek and Latin languages, beyond

anything of the kind in modern tongues. On it he literally

"discoursed eloquent music," adorning it with frequent and apt

illustration, and among other examples citing the celebrated

admonition of the Spartan mother to her warrior son on the eve of

battle--"With your shield or upon it!" The whole party were

delighted with the rich tones and the classic teachings of the

gifted colloquist, except his equally gifted competitor for

conversational laurels, who, notwithstanding his enforced admiration,

sat uneasily under the prolonged disquisition, anxiously waiting

for an opportunity to take his place in the picture. At length a

titillation seizing the olfactory nerve of Mr. Preston, he paused

to take a pinch of snuff, and Mr. Davis immediately filled up the

_vacuum_, taking up the line of speech in this wise:

"I have listened," said he, "with equal edification and pleasure

to the classic discourse of our friend, sparkling with gems alike

of intellect and fancy, but I differ from him _toto caelo_. He

may say what he will as to the supreme vigor and condensation of

thought and speech characteristic of classic Greece and Rome; but,

for my part, I think there is nothing equal to our own _vernacular_

in these particulars, and I am fortunately able, although from a

humble source, to give you a striking and conclusive example and

illustration of the fact.

"As I was returning home from Congress, some years since, I approached

a river in North Carolina which had been swollen by a recent freshet,

and observed a country girl fording it in a merry mood, and carrying

a piggin of butter on her head. As I arrived at the river's edge

the rustic Naiad emerged from the watery element. 'My girl,' said

I, 'how deep's the water and what's the price of butter?' 'Up to

your waist and nine pence,' was the prompt and significant response!

Let my learned friend beat that if he can, in brevity and force of

expression, by aught to be found in all his treasury of classic

lore!"

A roar of laughter followed this humorous explosion, and a unanimous

vote in favor of the _vernacular_ awarded the palm to the distinguished

and successful wag over his classical but crest-fallen competitor.

The first restaurant established in Washington was by a Frenchman

named Boulanger, who was a pupil of the famous Chevet, of the Palais

Royal at Paris. His cozy establishment was on G Street, just west

of the War Department, where he used to serve good cheer to General

Jackson, Van Buren, Clay, Sir Charles Vaughan, and other notables.

His soups were gastronomic triumphs, and he was an adept in serving

oysters, terrapin, reed-birds, quails, ortolan, and other delicacies

in the first style of culinary perfection. His brandies, of his

own importation, were of the choicest "bead and brand," and he

obtained from Alexandria some of the choice old Madeira which had

been imported before the Revolution in return for cargoes of oak

staves. Boulanger did not cherish flattering recollections of

General Jackson's taste, but Mr. Van Buren used to compliment his

savory repasts and enjoy artistic cheer.

The Treasury Department, which had been destroyed by fire, was

rebuilt on a plan approved by President Jackson. The eastern front,

of Virginia sandstone, was a colonnade copied from the Temple of

Minerva Pallas, at Athens, three hundred and thirty-six feet long,

with thirty Ionic columns. The artist was Robert Mills, and he

wished to set the building back some fifty feet from the line of

the street, to give more effect to the architecture, but General

Jackson directed him to bring it forward to the building line of

the street, and stuck his cane in the ground to show where this

was. Of course, he was obeyed.

John Quincy Adams used to occasionally attend the theatre, and he

was especially pleased with Hackett as Falstaff. Hackett looked

the fat knight well, and his face interpreted many of his remarks

and situations explicitly. He delivered the soliloquy upon honor

with fine effect, and the scenes at Gad's Hill with Bardolph and

his nose, with Mrs. Quickly, and with the Prince when detected in

his exaggeration, were very humorous and well pointed.

When Mr. Hackett took his benefit it was announced that at the

particular request of Colonel David Crockett, of Tennessee, the

comedian would appear on the boards in his favorite character of

"Nimrod Wildfire," in the play called "The Kentuckian; or, a Trip

to New York." This brought out a house full to overflowing. At

seven o'clock the Colonel was escorted by the manager through the

crowd to a front seat reserved for him. As soon as he was recognized

by the audience they made the very house shake with hurrahs for

Colonel Crockett, "Go ahead!" "I wish I may be shot!" "Music!

let us have Crockett's March!" After some time the curtain rose,

and Hackett appeared in hunting costume, bowed to the audience,

and then to Colonel Crockett. The compliment was reciprocated by

the Colonel, to the no small amusement and gratification of the

spectators, and the play then went on.

When Hiram Powers came to Washington, on his way to Italy, he was

rather mortified by the remark of a jealous Italian artist, who

saw in him a rival: "When you have been ten years in Italy, you

may, perhaps, be able to chisel a little;" before, however, a fourth

of that time had elapsed, Powers had finished, from the rough marble

block, the admirable bust of Chief Justice Marshall which now graces

the hall of the Supreme Court of the United States.

Among the visitors to Washington early in 1834 was Charles Sumner,

then a tall, slim, ungainly young man, twenty-three years of age,

who was a student at law in Boston, but not admitted to practice.

He was introduced by his friend, Mr. Justice Story, to Chief Justice

Marshall and Justices Thompson, Duval, and McLean, and was invited

to dine with them. It is not known whether Justice Story told him

--as he told Edmund Quincy--that the Court was so aesthetic that

they denied themselves wine, except in wet weather. "But," added

the commentator on the Constitution, "what I say about wine, sir,

gives you our rule, but it does sometimes happen that the Chief

Justice will say to me, when the cloth is removed, 'Brother Story,

step to the window and see if it does not look like rain.' If I

tell him that the sun is shining, Judge Marshall will reply: 'All

the better, for our jurisdiction extends over so large a territory

that the doctrine of chances makes it certain that it must be

raining somewhere, and it will be safe to take something.'"

Mr. Sumner used to attend the sittings of the Supreme Court, which

were commenced at eleven and generally lasted until half-past three.

The Senate and House of Representatives met at noon and continued

in session until four and sometimes five o'clock. The Senate

generally adjourned over from Thursday until Monday, and the House

rarely sat on Saturday.

Among those with whom young Sumner became acquainted at Washington

was Dr. Francis Lieber, a well-educated German, who had fought at

Waterloo. He was for more than twenty years a professor in the

University of South Carolina, vouched for as "sound on the slavery

question," but he afterward became a bitter opponent of the South

and of its "peculiar institution." He was a prolific contributor

to the press, and he never hesitated about enlisting the services

of friends and acquaintances when they could produce materials for

his use.

[Facsimile]

A. Stevenson

ANDREW STEVENSON was born in Culpepper County, Virginia, in 1784;

was a Representative from Virginia in Congress, 1823-1834; was

Minister to Great Britain, 1836-1841; died in Albemarle County,

Virginia, January 25th, 1857.

CHAPTER XIII.

JACKSON'S LAST YEAR IN THE WHITE HOUSE.

Mr. Van Buren, like his predecessor, Mr. Calhoun, suffered mental

martyrdom while presiding over the Senate as Vice-President. His

manner was bland, as he thumped with his mallet when the galleries

were out of order, or declared that "The ayes have it," or, "The

memorial is referred." He received his fusillade of snubs and

sneers as the ghost of Chreusa received the embraces of AEneas--he

heeded them not. He leaned back his head, threw one leg upon the

other, and sat as if he were a pleasant sculptured image, destined

for that niche of his life.

Henry Clay, then in his prime, was the champion of the United States

Bank in the Senate. One day in debate he broke out in the most

violent appeal to Martin Van Buren, then presiding in the Senate,

to go to the President and represent to him the actual condition

of the country. "Tell him," said Clay, "that in a single city more

than sixty bankruptcies, involving a loss of upward of fifteen

millions of dollars, have occurred. Tell him of the alarming

decline in the value of all property. Tell him of the tears of

helpless widows, no longer able to earn their bread, and of unclad

and unfed orphans who have been driven by his policy out of the

busy pursuits in which but yesterday they were gaining an honest

livelihood."

The centennial birthday of George Washington was duly honored in

the city which he had founded and which bore his name. Divine

services were performed at the Capitol, and there was a dinner at

Brown's Hotel, at which Daniel Webster prefaced the first toast in

honor of the Father of his Country by an eloquent speech of an hour

in length. In the evening there were two public balls--"one for

the gentry at Carusi's saloon, and the other for mechanics and

tradesmen at the Masonic Temple."

Congress had proposed to pay signal homage to the memory of Washington

on the centennial anniversary of his birth by removing his remains

to the crypt beneath the dome of the Capitol. Mr. Custis, the

grandson of Mrs. Washington, had given his assent, but John A.

Washington, then the owner of Mount Vernon, declined to permit the

removal of the remains.

Congress purchased Rembrandt Peale's portrait of Washington, and

the House ordered a full length picture of him from Vanderlyn, a

celebrated New York artist. A commission was also given to Horatio

Greenough for a colossal statue of Washington in a sitting posture,

to be placed on a high pedestal in the centre of the rotunda of

the Capitol. The Washington National Monument Association, after

consultation with men of acknowledged artistic taste, selected from

among the numerous designs submitted a simple obelisk, five hundred

feet in height, for the erection of which the American people began

at once to contribute.

When "the solid men of Boston" ascertained that General Jackson

had actually signed the order for the removal of the deposits from

the Bank of the United States while enjoying their hospitalities

they were very angry. Not long afterward they learned that the

United States frigate Constitution, a Boston-built vessel, which

was being repaired at the Charlestown Navy Yard, was to be ornamented

with a full-length figure of General Jackson as a figure-head.

This was regarded as an insult, and the carver who was at work on

the figure was requested to stop working on it. This he declined

to do, and had his half-carved block of wood taken to the Navy

Yard, where he completed his task under the protection of a guard

of marines. When the figure-head was completed it was securely

bolted to the cutwater of the Constitution, which was then hauled

out to her anchorage, and a vessel was stationed on either side of

her.

The Bostonians grew more and more indignant, and finally a daring

young mariner from Cape Cod, Captain Samuel Dewey, determined that

he would decapitate the obnoxious image. The night which he selected

was eminently propitious, as a severe rain storm raged, accompanied

by heavy thunder and sharp lightning. Dewey sculled his boat with

a muffled oar to the bow of the frigate, where he made it fast,

and climbed up, protected by the head boards, only placed on the

vessel the previous day. Then, with a finely tempered saw, he cut

off the head, and returned with it to Boston, where a party of his

friends were anxiously waiting for him at Gallagher's Hotel. He

was at once made a lion of by the Whigs, and Commodore Elliott was

almost frantic with rage over the insult thus offered to his chief.

Dewey soon afterward went to Washington, where he exhibited the

grim features of the head to several leading Whigs, and finally

carried it, tied up in a bandana handkerchief, to the Navy Department.

Sending in his card to Mr. Mahlon Dickerson, then the Secretary of

the Navy, he obtained an audience. He was a short, chunky sailor-

man, with resolute blue-gray eyes, which twinkled as he said, "Have

I the honor of addressing the Secretary of the Navy?"

"You have," replied Mr. Dickerson, "and, as I am very busy, I will

thank you to be brief."

"Mr. Dickerson," said the Captain, "I am the man who removed the

figure-head from the Constitution, and I have brought it here to

restore it."

Secretary Dickerson threw himself back in his chair and looked with

astonishment at the man who had cast such an indignity on the

Administration.

"Well, sir," said he, in an angry tone, "you are the man who had

the audacity to disfigure Old Ironsides?"

"Yes, sir, I took the responsibility."

"Well, sir, I will have you arrested immediately," and the Secretary

reached toward his bell to summon his messenger.

"Stop, Mr. Secretary," said Captain Dewey; "you, as a lawyer, know

that there is no statute against defacing a ship-of-war, and all

you can do is to sue me for trespass, and that in the county where

the offense was committed. If you desire it, I will go back to

Middlesex County, Massachusetts, and stand my trial."

Mr. Dickerson reflected a moment and said: "You are right; and

now tell me how you took away the head."

Dewey told his story, and the story goes that Secretary Dickerson

asked him to wait while he stepped over to the White House, followed

by a messenger carrying the head. When General Jackson saw it,

and heard the Secretary's story, he burst into a fit of uncontrollable

laughter. "Why, that," he cried at length--"why, that is the most

infernal graven image I ever saw. The fellow did perfectly right.

You've got him, you say; well, give him a kick and my compliments,

and tell him to saw it off again." Dewey was after this frequently

at Washington, and he finally obtained the appointment of Postmaster

in a small Virginia town. He used to have on his visiting cards

the representation of a handsaw, under which was inscribed, "I

came, I saw, I conquered."

General Jackson always liked the physical excitement of a horse-

race, where a large assemblage thrills with but one thought from

the word "Go!" until the winning horse reaches the goal, and he

was always to be seen at the races over the National Course, just

north of Washington City. Delegations of sporting men from the

Atlantic cities crowded into the metropolis during the race weeks;

there were jockey-club dinners and jockey-club balls; and the course

resounded to the footfalls of noted horses, especially Boston, Sir

Charles, Emily, and Blue Dick. In 1836 General Jackson had a filly

of his own raising brought from the Hermitage and entered for a

race by Major Donelson, his private secretary. Nor did he conceal

his chagrin when the filly was beaten by an imported Irish colt

named Langford, owned by Captain Stockton, of the navy, and he had

to pay lost wagers amounting to nearly a thousand dollars, while

Mr. Van Buren and other devoted adherents who had bet on the filly

were also losers.

Baillie Peyton, of Tennessee, used to narrate an amusing account

of a visit which he made to the National Race Course with General

Jackson and a few others to witness the training of some horses

for an approaching race. They went on horseback, General Jackson

riding his favorite gray horse, and wearing his high white fur hat

with a broad band of black crape, which towered above the whole

group. The General greatly enjoyed the trials of speed, until a

horse named Busiris began to rear and plunge. This stirred Old

Hickory's mettle, and he rode forward to give some energetic advice

to the jockey, but just then he saw that the Vice-President was

ambling along at his side on an easy-going nag. "Mr. Van Buren,"

he exclaimed, "get behind me, sir! They will run over you, sir!"

and the Little Magician, with his characteristic diplomacy, which

never gave offense, gracefully retired to the rear of his chief,

which, Mr. Peyton used to say, was his place.

President Jackson used to visit his stable every morning, until he

became feeble, and he paid especial attention to the manner in

which his horses were shod. He never, after he became President,

played cards or billiards, nor did he read anything except the

_Daily Globe_ and his private correspondence. When he received a

letter that he desired one of his Cabinet to read, he would indorse

on the back "_Sec. of_ ----, A. J." He used to smoke a great deal,

using either a new clay pipe with a long stem, or a pipe made from

a piece of corn-cob, with a reed stem.

Cock-fighting had been one of General Jackson's favorite home

amusements, and he had become the possessor of a breed of fowl that

was invincible in Tennessee. He had some of these pugnacious birds

brought to Washington, and one spring morning he rode out toward

Bladensburg, with a select party of friends, to see "a main" fought

between the Hermitage and the Annapolis cocks. The birds were not

only trained to fight, but were equipped for their bloody work.

Their heads and necks were plucked, their tail feathers were closely

trimmed, and their natural spurs were cut off and replaced by

"gaffs," or sharp blades of finely tempered steel. Each bird had

his trainer, ready to administer stimulants and to sponge the blood

from the wounds inflicted by the gaffs. General Jackson was very

confident that his favorites would again be victorious, but there

was no fight, to the great disappointment of all present, who

doubtless possessed what has been called "the devil's nerve," which

thrills with base enjoyment in the visible pain of man, beast, or

bird. The long confinement in coops on the stages, or some other

unknown cause, appeared to have deprived the Hermitage birds of

their wonted pluck, and the Annapolis cocks crowed in triumph.

There was a grand wedding at Arlington in Jackson's time, when

Lieutenant Robert Edward Lee, fresh from West Point, came up from

Fortress Monroe to marry the heiress of the estate, Mary Custis.

Old Mr. Custis was delighted with his soldier son-in-law, whose

father had said of Washington that he was "First in war, first in

peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen." The Marshalls,

the Carters, the Fitzhughs, the Taylors, and other "first families

of Virginia" were represented at the wedding, and the happy young

couple went, after the ceremony, to old Fortress Monroe, where they

resided for a while in a casement fitted up as officers' quarters.

The next year Lieutenant Lee brought his bride back to Arlington,

which was their happy home until he was persuaded to enlist under

the "stars and bars" of the Southern Confederacy.

One of General Jackson's favorites was Jemmy Maher, an Irishman,

whom he had appointed public gardener, a position of some responsibility

in those days, when its holder had to look after the gardens at

the White House, the Capitol, and the Departments. Jemmy's father

had been forced to flee to this country to avoid punishment for

participation in the Irish rebellion of '98, and the son regarded

all Englishmen as his foes. General Jackson, who had "whipped the

British" at New Orleans, was the object of his especial adoration,

especially as he used to forgive him when the Superintendent of

Public Buildings occasionally complained that he drank whisky rather

too freely. "Shure, Mr. President," he would say, "I niver drink

unless I am dry, and it would be mane in me not to invite me frinds

to jine and take a drap with me."

General Jackson was not fond of the theatre, but he went to see

the widely heralded performance of Miss Fanny Kemble. The niece

of Mrs. Siddons, and the daughter of Charles Kemble, she had been

trained from early childhood to sustain the reputation of her

distinguished theatrical family. A good-looking young woman, with

large, dark eyes, a profusion of dark hair, a low forehead, and

healthy strawberry-and-cream complexion, she was personally

attractive, and wonderfully effective. Every movement, gesture,

and inflection of voice had been carefully studied, and when making

an ordinary remark in conversation she would deliver her words with

a deliberate attempt at stage effect. Her Juliet with her father's

Romeo, was her best character, but they failed signally as Lady

Teazle and Charles Surface in the _School for Scandal_.

Miss Kemble did not remain long on the American stage, as she became

the wife of Mr. Pierce Butler, a wealthy slave-owner, in 1834.

The next year her _Journal_ appeared, in which she criticised what

she had seen and heard with a free hand, but "'twas pretty Fanny's

way," and no one got angry over her silly twaddle. One of the fair

author's predictions concerning the fate of our polity yet awaits

fulfillment. "It is my conviction," said she, "that America will

be a monarchy before I am a skeleton." Fifty years have passed

since these words were written, and the prophetess has developed

into a portly matron, anything but a skeleton, and very unlike the

slender Miss of Jackson's time.

When Jefferson was President, the agricultural town of Cheshire,

in Western Massachusetts, which had been drilled by its Democratic

pastor, named Leland, into the unanimous support of the Sage of

Monticello, determined to present him with the biggest cheese that

had ever been seen. So on a given day every cow-owner brought his

quota of freshly made curd to a large cider-press, which had been

converted into a cheese-press, and in which a cheese was pressed

that weighted one thousand six hundred pounds. It was brought to

Washington in the following winter on a sled, under the charge of

Parson Leland, and in the name of the people of Cheshire, was

formally presented to President Jefferson in the then unfinished

East Room. Jefferson, of course, returned thanks, and after having

a great wedge cut from the cheese, to send back to the donors, he

invited all present to help themselves. The cheese was variegated

in appearance, owing to so many dairies having contributed the

curd, but the flavor was pronounced the best ever tasted in

Washington.

Jackson's admirers thought that every honor which Jefferson had

ever received should be paid to him, so some of them, residing in

a rural district of New York, got up, under the superintendence of

a Mr. Meacham, a mammoth cheese for "Old Hickory." After having

been exhibited at New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, it was

kept for some time in the vestibule at the White House, and was

finally cut at an afternoon reception on the 22d of February, 1837.

For hours did a crowd of men, women, and boys hack at the cheese,

many taking large hunks of it away with them. When they commenced,

the cheese weighted one thousand four hundred pounds, and only a

small piece was saved for the President's use. The air was redolent

with cheese, the carpet was slippery with cheese, and nothing else

was talked about at Washington that day. Even the scandal about

the wife of the President's Secretary of War was forgotten in the

tumultuous jubilation of that grand occasion.

General Jackson received that day for the last time at the White

House, and was so feeble that he had to remain seated. Mrs. Donelson

stood on one side, and on the other was Van Buren, who was inaugurated

as President a fortnight later.

[Facsimile]

your obt. sert.

William R. King

WILLIAM RUFUS KING was born in North Carolina, April 1st, 1786;

was a Representative in Congress from Alabama from November 4th,

1811, until he resigned to accompany William Pinkney to Russia as

Secretary of Legation, April 23d, 1816; was United States Senator

from Alabama from March 4th, 1819, until he resigned to go as

Minister to France, April 9th, 1844; was again United States Senator

from December 7th, 1846 to March 4th, 1853; was elected Vice-

President on the Pierce ticket in 1852, as a Democrat, receiving

two hundred and fifty-four electoral votes, against forty-two

electoral votes for W. R. Graham, a Whig; having gone to Europe

for his health, he took the oath of office near Havana, March 4th,

1853; returning to his home at Catawba, Alabama, where he died,

April 18th, 1853, the day following his arrival.

CHAPTER XIV.

VAN BUREN'S STORMY ADMINISTRATION.

While the electoral votes for the eighth President of the United

States were being counted, in the presence of the two Houses of

Congress, Senator Clay remarked to the Vice-President Van Buren,

with courteous significance, "It is a cloudy day, sir!"

"The sun will shine on the 4th of March, sir!" was the Little

Magician's confident reply.

The prediction was fulfilled, for on Van Buren's inaugural morning,

March 4th, 1837, the sun shone brightly, and there was not a cloud

to be seen. Washington was crowded with strangers from all parts

of the country, and in anticipation of the time set for the ceremony

great numbers began to direct their way at an early hour to the

Capitol. Congregating before the eastern portico of the Capitol,

the dense mass of humanity reminded those who had traveled abroad

of the assembled multitude in front of St. Peter's on Easter Sunday

waiting to receive the Papal blessing.

President Jackson and President-elect Van Buren were escorted from

the White House to the Capitol by a volunteer brigade of cavalry

and infantry and by several Democratic political organizations.

General Jackson and his successor rode in an elegant phaeton,

constructed of oak from the original timber of the frigate

Constitution. It had been made at Amherst, Massachusetts, and was

presented by sixty admirers. It had one seat, holding two persons,

and a high box for the driver in front, bordered with a deep hammer-

cloth. The unpainted wood was highly polished, and its fine grain

was brought out by a coat of varnish, while on a panel on either

side was a representation of "Old Ironsides" under full sail. The

phaeton was drawn by General Jackson's four iron-grey carriage-

horses, with elaborate brass-mounted harness.

Arriving at the Capitol, General Jackson and Mr. Van Buren went to

the Senate Chamber, where they witnessed Colonel Johnson take his

oath of office as Vice-President. They then repaired to a platform

erected over the steps of the eastern portico, followed by the

Diplomatic Corps, the Senators, and the principal executive officers.

A cheer greeted the old hero, who had risen from a sick-bed, against

the protest of his physician, that he might grace the scene, and

a smile of satisfaction lit up his wan, stern features as he stood

leaning on his cane with one hand and holding with the other his

crape-bound white fur hat, while he acknowledged the compliment

paid him by a succession of bows. Mr. Van Buren then advanced to

the front of the platform, and with impressive dignity read in a

clear, distinct voice his inaugural address. His manner and emphasis

were excellent, yet the effect upon the multitude was not what

might have been expected from so great a collection of men devoted

to his support. When he had concluded Chief Justice Taney administered

the oath of office, and no sooner had Van Buren kissed the Bible,

as a pledge of his assent, than General Jackson advanced and shook

him cordially by the hand. The other dignitaries on the platform

followed with their congratulations, the populace cheered, and the

bands played "Hail to the Chief!"

President Van Buren and ex-President Jackson were then escorted

back to the White House, where for three hours a surging tide of

humanity swept past the new Chief Magistrate, congratulating him

on his inauguration. The assemblage was a promiscuous one, and

the reception was as disorderly an affair as could well be imagined.

At four o'clock in the afternoon the members of the Diplomatic

Corps called in a body, wearing their court dresses, and Don Calderon

de la Barca, who was their Dean, presented a congratulatory address.

In his reply, Mr. Van Buren made his only known _lapsus linguae_

by addressing them as the "Democratic corps." It was not until

after his attention had been called to the mistake that he corrected

himself, and stated that he had intended to say "Diplomatic Corps."

In that evening two inauguration balls were given.

Many strangers had been unable to find conveyances to take them

away and could not obtain lodging places. It was interesting,

toward nightfall, to witness the gathering anxiety in many a good

citizen's countenance as he went from boarding-house to hotel, and

from hotel to private residence, seeking lodgings in vain. Money

could indeed procure the most luxurious dishes and the rarest

beverages; but while the palate could be gratified there was no

rest for weary limbs. "Beds! beds! beds!" was the general cry.

Hundreds slept in the market-house on bundles of hay, and a party

of distinguished Bostonians passed the night in the shaving-chairs

of a barber's shop.

General Jackson soon left for Tennessee, relieved from the cares

of the Presidential station, and exhibiting an unwonted gaiety of

spirit. During the previous winter he had not expected to live

until the conclusion of his term, and he could but feel buoyant

and happy in finding himself sufficiently recovered to undertake

the journey, with the prospect of enjoying some years at the

Hermitage, in the midst of the agricultural occupations of which

he was so fond.

President Van Buren was the first President who had not been born

a British subject, yet he was at heart a monarchist, opposed to

universal suffrage, and in favor of a strong central government,

although he had reached his exalted position by loud professions

of democracy. He endeavored to establish a personal intimacy with

every one presented to him, and he ostensibly opened his heart for

inspection. The tone of his voice was that of a thorough frankness,

accompanied by a pleasant smile, but a fixed expression at the

corners of his mouth and the searching look of his keen eyes showed

that he believed, with Talleyrand, that language was given to

conceal thought. He found himself saddled at the commencement of

his Administration with national financial embarrassments, bequeathed

as a legacy by his "illustrious predecessor," as he designated

General Jackson in one of his messages. The destruction of the

United States Bank had forced the transfer of the national funds,

which it had held on deposit, to the State banks. They had loaned

these funds on securities, often of doubtful value or worthless,

and when the day of reckoning came general bankruptcy ensued.

Manufacturers were obliged to discharge their workmen; provisions

were scarce and dear in the Atlantic States, because funds could

not be obtained for the removal eastward of the Western crops; and

there was much actual distress in the large cities on the sea coast.

To quiet the popular clamor, President Van Buren convened Congress

in an extra session, and in his message to that body on its assembling

he proposed the establishment of an independent Treasury, with sub-

Treasuries in different cities, for the safe keeping of the public

money, entirely separate from the banks. The Whigs opposed this

independent Treasury scheme, but, to the surprise of those with

whom he had of late been politically affiliated, it received the

cordial support of Mr. Calhoun. When Congress began to discuss

this measure, he became its champion in the Senate, and soon "locked

horns" with Mr. Clay, who led its opponents. The debate was

continued session after session, and in time Messrs. Clay and

Calhoun passed from their discussion of national finances into an

acrimonious reciprocal review of the acts, votes, and motions of

each other during the preceding thirty years.

During the debate in the House on the bill authorizing the issue

of Treasury notes there was an all-night session. The Democrats

had determined in caucus to "sit out the bill," and whenever a Whig

moved to adjourn his motion was promptly negatived. As darkness

came on the lamps were lighted and trimmed, candles were brought

into the hall, and the older and feebler members "pairing off,"

took their cloaks and hats and left. The House being in Committee

of the Whole, whenever they found no quorum voting, were obliged

by the parliamentary usage to rise and report that fact to the

House. When this was done, and the House was again in session as

a House, behold, a quorum instantly appeared; and then, by the same

law, they were obliged to return into Committee again. This happened

so often that at length gentlemen of the Administration side became

irritated, remonstrated, demanded that members should be counted

in their seats, whether they had voted or no, and at length came

to insist that individuals, by name, be compelled to vote. Such

a motion having been made in one case, a voice cried out in the

confusion which filled the chamber: "How are you going to do it?"

and the query was succeeded by shouts of laughter, mingled with

sounds of vexation.

As midnight approached it was curious to watch the various effects

produced by the scene on different temperaments. Some yawned

fearfully; others cursed and swore; others shook their sides with

merriment; others reasoned and remonstrated with their neighbors;

some very composedly stretched themselves upon the sofas, having

first borrowed chair-cushions enough to support their somnolent

heads; other bivouacked on three chairs, while some, not finding

a convenient couch, stretched themselves flat on the floor of the

House, with, perhaps, a volume of the Laws of the United States as

their pillow.

At half-past one a call of the House was ordered, the doors were

closed, and one hundred and forty-nine members were found to be

present. This House went into Committee of the Whole to come out

of it again, and the yeas and nays were called until the clerk grew

hoarse. Thus rolled the hours away. Candles burned down to their

sockets, forming picturesque grottoes of spermaceti as they declined;

lamps went out in suffocating fumes. Some insisted on having a

window up, others on having it down.

When the morning light began to dawn through the large south windows

of the Representatives' Hall, it contrasted strongly with the glare

of lights, the smoke of the lamps, and all the crowded tumult

within. At four o'clock the Sergeant-at-Arms arrived with Corwin,

Giddings, and a dozen other captured absentees, who were, one by

one, required to account for their absence by the Speaker, who

would say: "Mr. A. B., you have absented yourself from the House

during its sittings, contrary to law, and without leave of the

House; what excuse have you to offer?" And then the unfortunate

men made out the best story they could. Some had been sick; others

had a sick wife; others had got a bad headache from the late session;

some had witnessed such night scenes on former occasions, and did

not wish to see the like again; one had told the Sergeant that he

would come if he would send a hack for him, and no hack had been

sent; while one very cavalierly informed the House that the reason

why he had been absent was that he had not been there. Many were

excused altogether; others discharged from custody on paying their

fines (about two dollars each to the Sergeant for his fee of arrest).

One batch having thus been disposed of, the officer was dispatched

to make another haul, and in the meantime the old game was continued;

and, as neither party would yield, the unprofitable contest was

prolonged, not till broad daylight merely, but down to eleven

o'clock, when, all propositions of compromise having been rejected,

the debate was regularly renewed. Finally, at a quarter before

five o'clock, the House adjourned, quite fagged out.

Among other evidences of the bitter and ferocious spirit which

characterized political contests in those days was the duel between

Representative Cilley, of Maine, and Representative Grimes, of

Kentucky, in which the former fell. Mr. Cilley, in a speech

delivered in the House of Representatives, criticised a charge of

corruption brought against some unnamed Congressman in a letter

published in the New York _Courier and Enquirer_, over the signature

of "A Spy in Washington," and indorsed in the editorial columns of

that paper. Mr. James Watson Webb, the editor of the _Courier and

Enquirer_, immediately visited Washington and sent a challenge to

Mr. Cilley by Mr. Graves, with whom he had but a slight acquaintance.

Mr. Cilley declined to receive the hostile communication from Mr.

Graves, without making any reflection on the personal character of

Mr. Webb. Mr. Graves then felt himself bound by the unwritten code

of honor to espouse the cause of Mr. Webb, and challenged Mr. Cilley

himself. This challenge was accepted, and the preliminaries were

arranged between Mr. Henry A. Wise, as the second of Mr. Graves,

and Mr. George W. Jones, as the second of Mr. Cilley. Rifles were

selected as the weapons, and Mr. Graves found difficulty in obtaining

one, but was finally supplied by his friend, Mr. Rives, of the

_Globe_. The parties met, the ground was measured, and the combatants

were placed; on the fourth fire Mr. Cilley fell, shot through the

body, and died almost instantly. Mr. Graves, on seeing his antagonist

fall, expressed a desire to render him some assistance, but was

told by Mr. Jones, "My friend is dead, sir!" Mr. Cilley, who left

a wife and three young children, was a popular favorite, and his

tragic end caused a great excitement all over the country. Mr.

Wise was generally blamed for having instigated the encounter;

certainly he did not endeavor to prevent it.

The Capitol had its comedies as well as its tragedies, and the

leading comedian was Thomas Corwin, a Representative from Ohio,

who was a type of early Western culture and a born humorist. He

was a middle-sized, somewhat stout man, with pleasing manners, a

fine head, sparkling hazel eyes, and a complexion so dark that on

several occasions--as he used to narrate with great glee--he was

supposed to be of African descent. "There is no need of my working,"

said he, "for whenever I cannot support myself in Ohio, all I should

have to do would be to cross the river, give myself up to a Kentucky

negro-trader, be taken South, and sold for a field hand." He always

had a story ready to illustrate a subject of conversation, and the

dry manner in which he enlivened his speeches by pungent witticism,

without a smile on his own stolid countenance, was irresistible.

He was once addressing a Whig mass meeting at Marietta, Ohio, and

was taking especial pains not to say anything that could offend

the Abolitionists, who were beginning to throw a large vote. A

sharp witted opponent, to draw him out asked: "Shouldn't niggers

be permitted to sit at the table with white folks, on steamboats

and at hotels?" "Fellow-citizens," exclaimed Corwin, his swarthy

features beaming with suppressed fun, "I ask you whether it is

proper to ask such a question of a gentleman of my color?" The

crowd cheered and the questioner was silenced.

[Facsimile]

M. Van Buren

MARTIN VAN BUREN was born at Kinderhook, New York, December 5th,

1782; was a United States Senator from New York from December 3d,

1821, to December 20th, 1828, when he resigned to accept the office

of Governor of New York; this position he resigned on the 12th of

March, 1829, having been appointed by President Jackson Secretary

of State of the United States; this position he resigned August

1st, 1831, having been appointed by President Jackson Minister to

Great Britain, but the Senate rejected his nomination; was elected

Vice-President on the Jackson ticket in 1832; was elected President

in 1836; was defeated as the Democratic candidate for President in

1840; was the candidate of the Anti-Slavery party for President in

1848, and died at Kinderhook, New York, July 24th, 1862.

CHAPTER XV.

COMMENCEMENT OF THE ANTI-SLAVERY MOVEMENT.

It was during the Administration of Mr. Van Buren that the English

Abolitionists first began to propagate their doctrines in the

Northern States, where the nucleus of an anti-slavery party was

soon formed. This alarmed the Southerners, who, under the lead of

Mr. Calhoun, threatened disunion if their "peculiar institution"

was not let alone. The gifted South Carolinian having in January,

1838, paid a high compliment in debate to John Randolph for his

uncompromising hostility to the Missouri Compromise, Mr. Clay said:

"I well remember the Compromise Act and the part taken in that

discussion by the distinguished member from Virginia, whose name

has been mentioned, and whose death I most sincerely lament. At

that time we were members of the other House. Upon one occasion,

during a night session, another member from Virginia, through

fatigue and the offensive exhalations from one of the surrounding

lamps, fainted in his seat and was borne to the rear of the

Representatives' Hall. Calling some one to the Speaker's chair,

I left my place to learn the character and extent of his illness.

Returning to the desk, I was met in one of the aisles by Mr.

Randolph, to whom I had not spoken for several weeks. 'Ah, Mr.

Speaker,' said he, 'I wish you would leave Congress and go to

Kentucky. I will follow you there or anywhere else.' I well

understood what he meant, for at that time a proposition had been

made to the Southern members, and the matter partly discussed by

them, of leaving Congress in the possession of the Northern members

and returning home, each to his respective constituents. I told

Mr. Randolph that I could not then speak to him about the matter,

and requested him to meet me in the Speaker's room early the next

morning. With his usual punctuality he came. We talked over the

Compromise Act, he defending his favorite position and I defending

mine. We were together an hour, but to no purpose. Through the

whole he was unyielding and uncompromising to the last. We parted,

shook hands, and promised to be good friends, and I never met him

again during the session. Such," continued Mr. Clay, "was the part

Mr. Randolph took in that discussion, and such were his uncompromising

feelings of hostility to the North and all who did not believe with

him. His acts came near shaking this Union to the centre and

desolating this fair land. The measures before us now, and the

unyielding and uncompromising spirit are like then, and tend to

the same sad and dangerous end--dissolution and desolation, disunion

and ruin."

On the same day, in 1838, Mr. Webster gave in his opinion that

Congress had the power to abolish slavery in the District of

Columbia. That power, he said, was granted in the most express,

explicit, and undoubted terms. It declared that Congress should

have "exclusive jurisdiction over all subjects whatsoever in the

District of Columbia." Mr. Webster said that he had searched and

listened for some argument or some law to controvert this position.

he had read and studied carefully the act of cession of the ten

miles square from Maryland and Virginia, and he could find nothing

there, and nowhere else, to gainsay the plain and express letter

of the Constitution. This inspired the Abolitionists with hope

that Mr. Webster would become the leader of the crusade against

slavery that they had decided to inaugurate. At that time he

unquestionably leaned toward emancipation, not only in the District

of Columbia, but everywhere in the United States. This was noticed

by the Southern leaders, who began to tempt him--with promises of

support for the Presidency--promises which were subsequently broken

again and again that a more subservient and available tool might

be placed in power.

Before allying himself with the South, Mr. Webster endeavored to

identify himself with the West by investing largely in a city laid

out on paper in a township in Rock Island County, Illinois. It

was at the mouth of Rock River, and it was to have borne the name

of Rock Island City. Fletcher Webster went out there and remained

for a time, I think, accompanied by his friend, George Curson.

Caleb Cushing was also interested in the embryo city, but somehow

it was not a success.

Mr. Webster had, however, a very vague idea of the "Great West" of

his day. On one occasion when he was in the Senate a proposition

was before it to establish a mail-route from Independence, Mo., to

the mouth of the Columbia River, some three thousand miles, across

plains and mountains, about the extent of which the public then

knew no more than they did of the interior of Tibet. Mr. Webster,

after denouncing the measure generally, closed with a few remarks

concerning the country at large. "What do we want?" he exclaimed,

"with this vast, worthless area? This region of savages and wild

beasts, of deserts of shifting sands and whirlwinds of dust, of

cactus and prairie dogs? To what use could we ever hope to put

these great deserts, of those endless mountain ranges, impenetrable

and covered to their very base with eternal snow? What can we ever

hope to do with the western coast, a coast of three thousand miles,

rock-bound, cheerless, uninviting, and not a harbor on it? What

use have we for this country?"

Franklin Pierce, who had served two terms in the House of

Representatives, was then elected to the Senate. He proved a

valuable recruit for the Southern ranks, as when in the House he

had risen one day to a question of privilege, and warmly resented

the reading by Mr. Calhoun in the Senate of an article from the

Concord _Herald of Freedom_, which declared that the Abolitionists

in New Hampshire were as one to thirty. This journal, Mr. Pierce

said, "was too insignificant, too odious, in the eyes of his

constituents, to be cited as authority. No age or country had ever

been free from fanatics, and with equal justice might the whole

people of New York be charged with being followers of Matthias as

the people of New Hampshire for favoring the designs of the Knapps

and Garrisons and Thompsons."

Sergeant Smith Prentiss, who came to Washington during the Van

Buren Administration to claim a seat in Congress as a Representative

from Mississippi, was the most eloquent speaker that I have ever

heard. The lame and lisping boy from Maine had ripened, under the

Southern sun, into a master orator. The original, ever-varying,

and beautiful imagery with which he illustrated and enforced his

arguments impressed Webster, Clay, Everett, and even John Quincy

Adams. But his forte lay in arraigning his political opponents,

when his oratory was "terrible as an army with banners;" nothing

could stand against the energy of his look, gesture, and impassioned

logic, when once he was fairly under way, in denouncing the tricks

and selfish cunning of mere party management. The printed reports

of his speeches are mere skeletons, which give but a faint idea of

them. Even the few rhetorical passages that are retained have lost

much of their original form and beauty. The professional stenographers

confessed themselves utterly baffled in the attempt to report him,

and he was quite as unfitted to report himself. Indeed, he complained

that he never could reproduce the best thoughts, still less the

exact language, of his speeches.

The principal antagonist of Mr. Prentiss, in the courts of Mississippi,

was Joseph Holt, a young Kentucky lawyer, who had acquired a national

reputation for oratory by a speech which he made in the National

Democratic Convention of 1836, when he advocated the nomination of

Colonel Richard M. Johnson in a speech of great beauty and power.

His arguments were persuasive, the tones of his voice were melodious,

and he insinuated himself and his cause into the hearts of his

audience, rather than carried them by storm. Devoted to the South

and its peculiar institution, he was welcomed in the State of

Mississippi, and soon took a prominent position at the bar of its

higher courts.

William Rufus King, of Alabama, who was elected President _pro

tempore_ of the Senate while Colonel Johnson was Vice-President,

was a prim, spare bachelor, known among his friends as "Miss Nancy

King." When a young man he had accompanied the Minister to Russia,

William Pinkney, to St. Petersburg, as Secretary of the Legation

of the United States. Residing there for two years, he acquired

the formal manners of the Court of the Emperor Alexander, with a

diplomatic craftiness which he always retained. He was a courteous

presiding officer, as was thus oddly exemplified while he occupied

the chair. The two Senators from the State of Arkansas pronounced

the name of their State differently. Mr. King punctiliously observed

the difference, invariably recognizing one as "the gentleman from

Ar-kan-sas," and the other as "the gentleman from Ark-an-sas."

Mr. Van Buren was much exercised by a difficulty in the Pennsylvania

Legislature, which the State militia was called out to quell, and

which it was thought might result in a demand for the intervention

of United States troops. Thaddeus Stevens, then an ardent Whig,

was a leader in the attempt to force eleven illegally elected

members into the House at the point of the bayonet, the troops

having their muskets loaded with buckshot. When the enterprise

collapsed, Stevens jumped from a back window of the Capitol and

ran off to Gettysburg, where he remained without claiming his seat

for about a month, when he came in and offered to take the oath,

but the House resolved, with great solemnity, that the seat was

vacant, although others who had been out nearly as long were admitted

without hesitation.

A prominent young Virginia lawyer, named William Smith, who practiced

at Culpepper Court-House, became interested in a mail-route between

Washington City and Milledgeville, Georgia, and he grew to be an

extensive contractor. Many of his mail-routes were but little more

than bridle-paths, over which the mails were carried on horseback.

With an eye to the main chance, and with a laudable desire to extend

the mail facilities of Virginia, Mr. Smith managed to secure a

large number of "expeditions" through Parson Obadiah Bruin Brown,

commonly called "Parson Obadiah Bruin Beeswax Brown," the Superintendent

of the contract office of the Post-office Department. In place of

the horseback system stage lines would be substituted, and this

service would be frequently "expedited" without much of a view to

"productiveness," from one trip to three or six trips per week.

All of these "expeditions" were noted by stars (* *) at the bottom

of Smith's vouchers, which, interpreted, meant "extra allowance."

So frequently did these stars appear in the Virginia contractor's

accounts that he soon came to be known in the Post-office Department

as "Extra Billy" Smith, and it adhered to him in after life, when

he became a member of the House of Representatives and afterward

Governor of Virginia. He still lives at Warrenton, a hale and

hearty old man.

Mr. Van Buren had an abundance of political nicknames. He was "the

sweet little fellow" of Mr. Ritchie of the _Richmond Inquirer_,

and "the Northern man with Southern principles" of the _Charleston

Courier;_ Mr. Clinton baptized him "the Political Grimalkin;" Mr.

Calhoun, "the Weazel;" while he helped himself to the still less

flattering name of "the follower in the footsteps"--that is, the

successor of his predecessor, a sort of masculine _Madame Blaize_,

"Who strove the neighborhood to please,

With manners wondrous winning,

And never followed wicked ways,

Except when she was sinning."

who clad all the hungry and naked office-holders "that left a pledge

behind" of supporting him; and, like that good dame, led the way

to all those who came behind her.

The Southern nullifiers, who had been "squelched" by General Jackson,

began to revive under the more genial rule of Mr. Van Buren, and

they established an "organ" called the Washington _Chronicle_. It

was edited by Richard K. Cralle, who came from Leesburg, Virginia.

He was a well-educated gentleman, ultra in his opinions on free

trade and Southern rights; but those who were enthusiastic in their

praises of his editorials did not subscribe to the _Chronicle_, or

if they did, never condescended to pay their subscriptions. So

the paper ruined its printers and then gave up the ghost, Mr.

Calhoun securing a department clerkship for Mr. Cralle.

[Facsimile]

Tristram Burgess

TRISTRAM BURGESS was born at Rochester, Massachusetts, February

26th, 1770; was a Representative in Congress from Rhode Island from

December 1st, 1825, until March 3d, 1835; was defeated as the Whig

candidate for Congress, and afterward as the Whig candidate for

Governor, and died at Providence, Rhode Island, October 13th, 1853.

CHAPTER XVI.

SOCIAL AND POLITICAL LIFE AT WASHINGTON.

President Van Buren's wife (by birth Miss Hannah Hoes, of Columbia

County, New York) had been dead nineteen years when he took possession

of the White House, accompanied by his four sons, and presided over

the official receptions and dinner parties with his well-known tact

and politeness. In the November following his inauguration, his

eldest son and private secretary, Colonel Abraham Van Buren (who

was a graduate of the Military Academy at West Point, and who had

served on the staff of General Worth), was married to Miss Angelica

Singleton, a wealthy South Carolina lady, who had been educated at

Philadelphia, and who had passed the preceding winter at Washington

in the family of her relative, Senator Preston. On the New Year's

day succeeding the wedding Mrs. Van Buren, assisted by the wives

of the Cabinet officers, received with her father-in-law, the

President. Her rare accomplishments, superior education, beauty

of face and figure, grace of manner, and vivacity in conversation

insured social success. The White House was refurnished in the

most expensive manner, and a code of etiquette was established

which rivaled that of a German principality.

The President endeavored to restore the good feeling between the

Administration and Washington "society," which had been ruptured

during the political rule of General Jackson. He gave numerous

entertainments at the White House, and used to attend those given

by his Cabinet, which was regarded as an innovation, as his

predecessors had never accepted social invitations. Ex-President

Adams, the widow of President Madison, and the widow of Alexander

Hamilton each formed the centre of a pleasant coterie, and the

President was open in the expression of his desire that the members

of his Cabinet and their principal subordinates should each give

a series of dinner-parties and evening receptions during the

successive sessions of Congress.

The dinner-parties were very much alike, and those who were in

succession guests at different houses often saw the same table

ornaments, and were served by the same waiters, while the fare was

prepared by the same cook. The guests used to assemble in the

parlor, which was almost invariably connected with the dining-room

by large folding doors. When the dinner was ready the doors were

thrown open, and the table was revealed, laden with china and cut-

glass ware. A watery compound called vegetable soup was invariably

served, followed by boiled fish, overdone roast beef or mutton,

roast fowl or game in season, and a great variety of puddings,

pies, cakes, and ice-creams. The fish, meat, and fowl were carved

and helped by the host, while the lady of the house distributed

the vegetables, the pickles, and the dessert. Champagne, without

ice, was sparingly supplied in long, slender glasses, but there

was no lack of sound claret, and with the dessert several bottles

of old Madeira were generally produced by the host, who succinctly

gave the age and history of each. The best Madeira was that labeled

"The Supreme Court" as their Honors, the Justices, used to make a

direct importation every year, and sip it as they consulted over

the cases before them every day after dinner, when the cloth had

been removed. Some rare specimens of this wine can still be found

in Washington wine-cellars.

At the evening parties the carpet was lifted from the room set

apart for dancing, and to protect the dancers from slipping the

floor was chalked, usually in colors. The music was almost invariably

a first and second violin, with flute and harp accompaniments.

Light refreshments, such as water-ices, lemonade, negus, and small

cakes were handed about on waiters between every two or three

dances. The crowning glory of the entertainment, however, was the

supper, prepared under the supervision of the hostess, aided by

some of her intimate friends, who also loaned their china and

silverware. The table was covered with _a la mode_ beef, cold

roast turkey, duck, and chicken, fried and stewed oysters, blanc-

mange, jellies, whips, floating islands, candied oranges, and

numerous varieties of tarts and cakes. Very often the older men

would linger after the ladies had departed, and even reassemble

with those, and discuss the wines _ad libitum_, if not _ad nauseam_,

while the young men, after having escorted the ladies to their

respective homes, would meet again at some oyster-house or go out

on a lark, in imitation of the young English bloods in the favorite

play of Tom and Jerry. Singing, or rather shouting, they would

break windows, wrench off knockers, call up doctors, and transpose

sign-boards; nor was there a night watchman to interfere with their

roistering.

A decided sensation was created at Washington during the Van Buren

Administration by the appearance there of a handsome and well-

educated Italian lady, who called herself America Vespucci and

claimed descent from the navigator who gave his name to this

continent. Ex-President Adams and Daniel Webster became her especial

friends, and she was soon a welcome guest in the best society. In

a few weeks after her arrival she presented a petition to Congress

asking, first, to be admitted to the rights of citizenship; and,

secondly, to be given "a corner of land" out of the public domain

of the country which bore the name of her ancestor. An adverse

report, which was soon made, is one of the curiosities of Congressional

literature. It eulogized the petitioner as "a young, dignified,

and graceful lady, with a mind of the highest intellectual culture,

and a heart beating with all our own enthusiasm in the cause of

America and human liberty." The reasons why the prayer of the

petitioner could not be granted were given, but she was commended

to the generosity of the American people. "The name of America--

our country's name--should be honored, respected, and cherished in

the person of the interesting exile from whose ancestor we derive

the great and glorious title."

A subscription was immediately opened by Mr. Haight, the Sergeant-

at-Arms of the Senate, and Judges, Congressmen, and citizens vied

with one another in their contributions. Just then it was whispered

that Madame Vespucci had borne an unenviable reputation at Florence

and at Paris, and had been induced by a pecuniary consideration to

break off an intimacy with the Duke of Orleans, Louis Philippe's

oldest son, and come to Washington. Soon afterward the Duke's

younger brother, the Prince de Joinville, came to this country,

and refused to recognize her, which virtually excluded her from

reputable society. For some years subsequently she resided in

luxurious seclusion with a wealthy citizen of New York, in the

interior of that State, and after his death she returned to Paris.

During the Van Buren Administration James P. Espy came to Washington

to initiate what has grown into the Weather Signal Service. He

was a Pennsylvanian by birth, and so poor in early life that when

seventeen years of age he had not been able to learn to read. He

subsequently mastered the English language and the classics, and

long before he knew why began to study the mystery of the moving

clouds and to form his storm theories. At last he asked of Congress

an appropriation of five thousand dollars a year for five years,

but he was met with jibes and ridicule. Senator Preston, of South

Carolina, said Espy was a madman, too dangerous to be at large,

and the Senator would vote a special appropriation for a prison in

which to confine him. Espy was in the Senate gallery at the time.

Wounded to the quick, he left the Capital and went to New York,

where he delivered a course of lectures with great success. They

were repeated in Boston, and he made money enough to enable him to

visit Europe.

Not long after reaching Liverpool, January 6th, 1839, a great storm

occurred. He went to Lloyd's, consulted the newspapers as they

arrived, noted the direction of the wind as given at different

places, and from these data constructed the first great storm map

ever prepared, with the hour points marked. Every line and curve

and point exemplified his theory. He was at no loss now for

audiences. He appeared before the British Association of Scientists

at London, at which Sir John Herschel was present, an interested

auditor. He crossed the channel to Paris, and the Academy of

Sciences appointed a committee, composed of the illustrious Arago,

"to report upon his observations and theory." The effect of this

report, when it reached Washington, was not much different from

that which followed, afterward, the announcement of Morse's first

transmitted message over the wire from Washington to Baltimore.

Aided by General Jackson and the "machinery" of the Democratic

party, engineered by Amos Kendall, Mr. Van Buren secured for himself

the re-nomination for the Presidency. But he had great obstacles

to contend with. The financial condition of the country, deranged

by the absence of the controlling power of the United States Bank,

grew worse and worse. There was a total stagnation of business

throughout the Union, and from every section came tidings of

embarrassment, bankruptcy, and ruin. There were no available funds

for the purchase of Western produce and its transportation to the

Atlantic markets, so it remained in the hands of the farmers, who

could not dispose of it except at great sacrifice. In Ohio, for

example, pork was sold at three dollars a hundred pounds, and wheat

at fifty cents per bushel, while the price of agricultural labor

was but thirty-seven and a-half cents a day.

The campaign was carried on with great bitterness in Congress,

where the leading Whigs cordially united in a decisive warfare on

the Democrats. General Harrison was eulogized as a second Cincinnatus

--plowman, citizen, and general--and the sneering remark that he

resided in a log-cabin was adopted as a partisan watch-word. The

most notable speech was by Mr. Ogle, of Pennsylvania, who elaborately

reviewed the expensive furniture, china, and glassware which had

been imported for the White House by order of President Van Buren.

He dwelt on the gorgeous splendor of the damask window curtains,

the dazzling magnificence of the large mirrors, chandeliers, and

candelabra; the centre-tables, with their tops of Italian marble;

the satin-covered chairs, tabourets, and divans; the imperial

carpets and rugs, and, above all, the service of silver, including

a set of what he called gold spoons, although they were of silver-

gilt. These costly decorations of the White House were described

in detail, with many humorous comments, and then contrasted with

the log-cabins of the West, where the only ornamentation, generally

speaking, was a string of speckled birds'-eggs festooned about a

looking-glass measuring eight by ten inches, and a fringed window

curtain of white cotton cloth.

Having described the furniture and the table service of the White

House, as purchased by direction of the President, Mr. Ogle proceeded

to sketch Van Buren's New Year receptions. "Instead," said he,

"of weekly receptions, when all the people were at liberty to

partake of the good cheer of the President's house, there had been

substituted one cold, stiff, formal, and ceremonious assembly on

the first day of every year. At this annual levee, notwithstanding

its pomp and pageantry, no expense whatever is incurred by the

President personally. No fruits, cake, wine, coffee, hard cider,

or other refreshments of any kind are tendered to his guests.

Indeed, it would militate against all the rules of court etiquette,

now established at the palace, to permit vulgar eating and drinking

on this grand gala day. The Marine Band, however, is always ordered

from the Navy Yard and stationed in the spacious front hall, from

whence they swell the rich saloons of the palace with 'Hail to the

Chief!' 'Wha'll be King but Charley?' and other humdrum airs, which

ravish with delight the ears of warriors who have never smelt

powder. As the people's cash, and not his own, pays for all the

services of the Marine Band, its employment at the palace does not

conflict with the peculiar views of the President in regard to the

obvious difference between public and private economy.

"At these 'annual State levees,' the great doors of the 'East Room,'

'Blue Elliptical Saloon,' 'Green Drawing Room,' and 'Yellow Drawing

Room' are thrown open at twelve o'clock 'precisely' to the anxious

feet of gayly appareled noblemen, honorable men, gentlemen, and

ladies of all the nations and kingdoms of the earth, many of whom

appear ambitiously intent upon securing an early recognition from

the head of the mansion. The President, at the 'same instant of

time,' assumes his station about four feet within the 'Blue Elliptical

Saloon,' and facing the door which looks out upon the spacious

front hall, but is separated from it, as before remarked, by a

screen of Ionic columns. He is supported on the right and left by

the Marshal of the District of Columbia and by one of the high

officers of the Government. The Marine Band having been assigned

their position at the eastern end of the hall, with all their fine

instruments in full tune, 'at the same identical moment' strike up

one of our most admired 'national airs;' and forthwith a current

of life flows in at the wide-spread outer door of the palace, and

glides with the smoothness of music through the spacious hall by

the Ionic screen into the royal presence. Here (to drop for a

moment my liquid figure) each and every individual is presented

and received with a gentle shake of the hand, and is greeted with

that 'smile eternal' which plays over the soft features of Mr. Van

Buren, save when he calls to mind how confoundedly 'Old Tip' chased,

caught, and licked Proctor and Tecumseh. Immediately after the

introduction or recognition the current sets toward the 'East Room'

and thus this stream of living men and women continues to flow and

flow and flow, for about the space of three hours--the 'Democratic

President' being the only orb around which all this pomp, pride,

and parade revolve. To him all these lesser planets turn, 'as the

sunflower turns' to the sun, and feel their colors brightened when

a ray of favor or a 'royal smile' falls upon them."

[Facsimile]

W. L. Marcy

WILLIAM LEARNED MARCY was born at Sturbridge, Massachusetts, December

12th, 1786; was United States Senator from New York from December

5th, 1831, to July, 1832, when he resigned; was Governor of the

State of New York, 1833-1839; was Secretary of War under President

Polk, March 5th, 1845, to March 3d, 1849; was Secretary of State

under President Pierce, March 7th, 1853, to March 4th, 1857, and

died at Ballston Spa, New York, July 4th, 1857.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE LOG CABIN AND HARD CIDER CAMPAIGN.

The Presidential campaign of 1840 surpassed in excitement and

intensity of feeling all which had preceded it, and in these respects

it has not since been equaled. It having been sneeringly remarked

by a Democratic writer that General Harrison lived in a log cabin

and had better remain there, the Whigs adopted the log cabin as

one of their emblems. Log cabins were raised everywhere for Whig

headquarters, some of them of large size, and almost every voting

precinct had its Tippecanoe Club with its choristers.

For the first time in our land the power of song was invoked to

aid a Presidential candidate, and immense editions of log cabin

song-books were sold. Many of these songs were parodies on familiar

ballads. One of the best compositions, the authorship of which

was ascribed to George P. Morris, the editor of the New York

_Mirror_, was a parody on the Old Oaken Bucket. The first verse

ran:

"Oh! dear to my soul are they days of our glory,

The time-honored days of our national pride;

When heroes and statesmen ennobled our story,

And boldly the foes of our country defied;

When victory hung o'er our flag, proudly waving,

And the battle was fought by the valiant and true

For our homes and our loved one, the enemies braving,

Oh! then stood the soldier of Tippecanoe--

The iron-armed soldier, the true-hearted soldier

The gallant old soldier of Tippecanoe."

Mass conventions were held by the Whigs in the larger cities and

in the central towns at the great West. They were attended by

thousands, who came from the plow, the forge, the counter, and the

desk, at a sacrifice of personal convenience and often at considerable

expense, to give a hearty utterance to their deep-felt opposition

to the party in power. Delegations to these conventions would

often ride in carriages or on horseback twenty-five or thirty miles,

camping out during the excursion. They carried banners, and often

had a small log cabin mounted on wheels, in which was a barrel of

hard cider, the beverage of the campaign. On the day of the

convention, and before the speaking, there was always a procession,

in which the delegations sang and cheered as they marched along,

sometimes rolling balls on which were the names of the States,

while the music of numerous bands aided in imparting enthusiasm.

The speaking was from a platform, over which floated the national

flag, and on which were seated the invited guests, the local

political magnates, the clergymen of the place, and generally a

few Revolutionary soldiers, who were greeted with loud applause.

The principal orators during the campaign were Henry Clay, Daniel

Webster, William C. Preston, Henry A. Wise, Thomas Corwin, Thomas

Ewing, Richard W. Thompson, and scores of less noted names. General

Harrison took the stump himself at several of the Western gatherings,

and spoke for over an hour on each occasion. His demeanor was that

of a well-bred, well-educated, venerable Virginia gentleman,

destitute of humor and fond of quoting from the classic authors.

The favorite campaign document, of which hundreds of thousands were

circulated through the mails under the franks of the Whig Congressmen,

was the reply in the House of Representatives by Thomas Corwin, of

Ohio, to an attack upon Harrison's military record made by Mr.

Isaac E. Crary. A native of Connecticut, Mr. Crary had migrated

to Michigan, and was the first and the only Representative from

that recently admitted State. Anxious to distinguish himself, he

undertook to criticise the military career of General Harrison with

great unfairness and partisan vigor. Mr. Corwin replied the next

day in one of the most wonderful speeches ever delivered at

Washington. For vigorous argument and genuine wit the speech has

rarely been equaled. Those who heard it agree that his defense of

Harrison was overwhelming and the annihilation of Crary complete.

The House was convulsed with laughter at the richness and originality

of the humor, and at times almost awed by the great dignity and

profound arguments of the orator. The pages of history were

ransacked for illustrations to sustain the speaker, and all were

poured in rapid profusion upon the head of poor Crary, who sat

amazed and stupefied at the storm he had provoked. As Corwin

proceeded the members left their seats and clustered thickly about

him, the reporters laid down their pens, and everybody gave themselves

up to the enjoyment of the hour. As Mr. Corwin painted in mock

heroic style the knowledge of military affairs which the lawyer

member from Michigan had acquired from reading _Tidd's Practice_

and _Espinasse's Nisi Prius_, studies so happily adapted to the

art of war, the House fairly roared with delight.

He drew a mirth-provoking picture of Crary in his capacity of a

militia brigadier at the head of his legion on parade day, with

his "crop-eared, bushy-tailed mare and sickle hams--the steed that

laughs at the shaking of the spear, and whose neck was clothed with

thunder," and likened Crary to Alexander the Great with his war-

horse, Bucephalus, at the head of his Macedonian phalanx.

He traced all the characteristic exploits of the assembled throng

on those old-time mustering occasions. The wretched diversity in

height and build of the marshaled hosts; the wild assortment of

accoutrements, from the ancient battle-ax to the modern broom-stick,

the trooping boys, the slovenly girls, the mock enthusiasm of the

spectators, all were painted with a master's hand. Finally, after

reciting Crary's deeds of valor and labor during the training day,

Corwin left him and his exhausted troop at a corner grocery assuaging

the fires of their souls with copious draughts of whisky drank from

the shells of slaughtered watermelons. When Mr. Corwin came to

give the history of General Harrison and defend his military record,

he rose to the height of pure eloquence, and spoke with convincing

force and unanswerable logic. The fate of Crary was sealed.

Probably no such personal discomfiture was ever known from the

effect of a single speech. He never recovered from the blow, and

was known at home and abroad as "the late General Crary." Even at

home the farmers and the boys, in watermelon season, would always

offer him the fruit with sly jests and jeers and a joke at his

military career; but his public life and usefulness were at an end.

In May, 1840, there was received at Washington the initial number

of _The Log Cabin_, a campaign paper published at New York by Horace

Greeley. It was printed at the office of the _New Yorker_, then

edited by Mr. Greeley, on a thin super-royal sheet, and the price

for twenty-eight weekly issues was fifty cents for a single copy--

larger numbers much less. It contained a few illustrations bearing

on the election, plans of General Harrison's battle-grounds, and

campaign songs set to music.

Mr. Greeley's paper was recommended to leading Whigs at Washington

by Thurlow Weed, and he obtained eighty thousand subscribers, the

Whig Congressmen recommending the paper to their constituents.

The _Log Cabin_ was the foundation of the _Tribune_, and thenceforth

until his death Mr. Greeley was well known at the National Capital.

He was a man of intense convictions and indomitable industry, and

he wielded an incisive, ready pen, which went straight to the point

without circumlocution or needless use of words. Although he was

a somewhat erratic champion of Fourierism, vegetarianism, temperance,

anti-hanging, and abolition, there was a "method in his madness,"

and his heretical views were evidently the honest convictions of

his heart. Often egotistical, dogmatic, and personal, no one could

question his uprightness and thorough devotion to the noblest

principles of progressive civilization. Inspired by that true

philanthropy that loves all mankind equally and every one of his

neighbors better than himself, he was often victimized by those

whose stories he believed and to whom he loaned his hard-earned

savings. The breath of slander did not sully his reputation, and

he never engaged in lobbying at Washington for money, although

friendship several times prompted him to advocate appropriations

for questionable jobs--the renewal of patents which were monopolies,

and the election of Public Printers who were notoriously corrupt.

Mr. Clay "sulked in his tent" until August, when he went to Nashville

and addressed a Whig Convention. "Look," said he, in conclusion,

"at the position of Tennessee and Kentucky. They stood side by

side, their sons fought side by side, at New Orleans. Kentuckians

and Tennesseans now fight another and a different kind of battle.

But they are fighting now, as then, a band of mercenaries, the

cohorts of power. They are fighting a band of office-holders, who

call General Harrison a coward, an imbecile, an old woman!

"Yes, General Harrison is called a coward, but he fought more

battles than any other General during the last war and never

sustained a defeat. He is no statesman, and yet he has filled more

civil offices of trust and importance than almost any other man in

the Union."

A man in the crowd here cried out, "Tell us of Van Buren's battles!"

"Ah!" said Mr. Clay, "I will have to use my colleague's language

and tell you of Mr. Van Buren's '_three_ great battles!' He says,

that he fought General Commerce and conquered him; that he fought

General Currency and conquered him, and that, with his Cuban allies,

he fought the Seminoles and got conquered!"

Mr. Kendall came to the aid of President Van Buren, and resigned

the office of Postmaster-General that he might sustain the

Administration with his powerful pen. He thus brought upon himself

much malignant abuse, but in the many newspaper controversies in

which he was engaged he never failed to vindicate himself and

overwhelm his assailant with a clearness and vigor of argument and

a power of style with which few pens could cope. He was not only

assailed with the rudest violence of newspaper denunciation, but

he was alluded to by Whig speakers in scornful terms, while

caricaturists represented him as the Mephistopheles of the Van

Buren Administration, and Log Cabin Clubs roared offensive campaign

songs at midnight before his house, terrifying his children by the

discharges of a small cannon. Defeat stared him in the face, but

he never quailed, but faced the storm of attack in every direction,

and zealously defended the Democratic banner.

The Whigs of Maine led off by electing Edward Kent Governor, and

five of her eight Congressmen, including William Pitt Fessenden

and Elisha H. Allen, who afterward, when Minister from the Sandwich

Islands to the United States, fell dead at a New Year's reception

at the White House. Delaware, Maryland, and Georgia soon afterward

followed suit, electing Whig Congressmen and State officers. In

October the Ohio Whigs elected Thomas Corwin Governor, by a majority

of nearly twenty thousand over Wilson Shannon, and it was evident

that the triumphant election of Harrison and Tyler was inevitable.

In New York William H. Seward was re-elected Governor, but he ran

over seven thousand votes behind General Harrison, owing to certain

local issues.

For some months before the election the Democrats mysteriously

intimated that at the last moment some powerful engine was to be

put into operation against the Whig cause. Mr. Van Buren himself

was reported as having assured an intimate friend, who condoled

with him on his gloomy prospects, that he "had a card to play yet

which neither party dreamed of." The Attorney-General and the

District Attorneys of New York and Philadelphia were as mysterious

as Delphic oracles, while other Federal officers in those cities

were profound and significant in their head-shakings and winks in

reference to disclosures which were to be made just before the

Presidential election, and which were to blow the Whigs "sky high."

At last the magazine was exploded with due regard to dramatic

effect. Carefully prepared statements, supported by affidavits,

were simultaneously published in different parts of the country,

showing that a man named Glentworth had been employed by some

leading New York Whigs in 1838 to procure illegal votes from

Philadelphia. The men were ostensibly engaged in laying pipe for

the introduction of Croton water.

Messrs. Grinnell, Blatchford, Wetmore, Draper, and other leading

New York Whigs implicated promptly published affidavits denying

that they had ever employed Glentworth to supply New York with Whig

voters from Philadelphia. It was proven, however, that he had

received money and had taken some thirty Philadelphians to New York

the day before the election. There was no evidence, however, that

more than one of them had voted, and the only effect of the disclosure

was to add the word "pipe-laying" to the political vocabulary.

The Whigs fought their battle to the end with confidence of success,

and displayed an enthusiasm and harmony never witnessed in this

country before or since. Commencing with the harmonious selection

of General Harrison as their candidate, they enlisted Clay and

Webster, his defeated rivals, in his support, and, having taken

the lead, they kept it right through, really defeating the Democrats

in advance of the campaign. The South were not satisfied with Mr.

Van Buren's attitude on the admission of Texas, which stood knocking

for admission at the door of the Union, and "the Northern man with

Southern principles" was not the recipient of many Southern votes:

"Then hurrah for the field where the bald eagle flew,

In pride o'er the hero of Tippecanoe!"

[Facsimile]

Tho. Corwin

THOMAS CORWIN was born in Bourbon County, Kentucky, July 29th,

1794; was a Representative in Congress from Ohio from December 5th,

1831, to 1840, when he resigned and was elected Governor of Ohio;

was defeated for Governor of Ohio in 1842; was a Senator from Ohio

from December 1st, 1845, to July 22d, 1850, when he resigned, having

been appointed Secretary of the Treasury by President Taylor, and

served until March 3d, 1853; was again a Representative in Congress

from Ohio, December 5th, 1859, to March 3d, 1861; was Minister to

Mexico, March 22d, 1861, to September 1st, 1864; died suddenly at

Washington City, December 18th, 1865.

CHAPTER XVIII.

ENTER WHIGS--EXIT DEMOCRATS.

In 1840 many of the States voted for Presidential electors on

different days, which rendered the contest more exciting as it

approached its close. There was no telegraphic communication, and

there were but few lines of railroad, so that it was some time

after a large State had voted before its complete and correct

returns could be received. At last all the back townships had been

heard from and the exultant Whigs were certain that they had elected

their candidates by a popular majority of over one hundred thousand!

Twenty States had given Harrison and Tyler two hundred and thirty-

four electoral votes, while Van Buren and Johnson had received but

sixty electoral votes in six States. The log cabins were the scenes

of great rejoicing over this unparalleled political victory, and

the jubilant Whigs sang louder than before:

"Van, Van, Van is a used-up man."

General William Henry Harrison was by birth and education a Virginian.

His father, Benjamin Harrison, a signer of the Declaration of

Independence, was the largest man in the old Congress of the

Confederation, and when John Hancock was elected President of that

body Harrison seized him and bore him in his arms to the chair.

On reaching manhood William Henry Harrison migrated to Ohio, then

the far West, and for forty years was prominently identified with

the interests, the perils, and the hopes of that region. Universally

beloved in the walks of peace, and somewhat distinguished by the

ability with which he had discharged the duties of a succession of

offices which he had filled, yet he won his greatest renown in

military service. But he had never abjured the political doctrines

of the Old Dominion, and his published letters and speeches during

the Presidential campaign which resulted in his election showed

that he was a believer in what the Virginians called a strict

construction of financial questions, internal improvements, the

veto-power, and the protection of negro slavery. His intellect

was enriched with classical reminiscences, which he was fond of

quoting in writing or in conversation. When he left his residence

on the bank of the Ohio for the seat of Government he compared his

progress to the return of Cicero to Rome, congratulated and cheered

as he passed on by the victorious Cato and his admiring countrymen.

On General Harrison's arrival at Washington, on a stormy afternoon

in February, 1841, he walked from the railroad station (then on

Pennsylvania Avenue) to the City Hall. He was a tall, thin, careworn

old gentleman, with a martial bearing, carrying his hat in his

hand, and bowing his acknowledgments for the cheers with which he

was greeted by the citizens who lined the sidewalks. On reaching

the City Hall, the President-elect was formally addressed by the

Mayor, Colonel W. W. Seaton, of the _National Intelligencer_, who

supplemented his panegyric by a complimentary editorial article in

his newspaper of the next morning.

Before coming East General Harrison visited Henry Clay, at Ashland,

and tendered him the position of Secretary of State, which Mr. Clay

promptly declined, saying that he had fully determined not to hold

office under the new Administration, although he intended cordially

to support it. General Harrison thanked Mr. Clay for his frankness,

expressing deep regret that he could not accept the portfolio of

the Department of State. He further said that if Mr. Clay had

accepted this position it was his intention to offer the portfolio

of the Treasury Department to Mr. Webster; but since Mr. Clay had

declined a seat in the Cabinet, he should not offer one to Mr.

Webster.

Mr. Clay objected to this conclusion, and remarked that while Mr.

Webster was not peculiarly fitted for the control of the national

finances, he was eminently qualified for the management of the

foreign relations. Besides, the appointment of Mr. Webster as

Secretary of State would inspire confidence in the Administration

abroad, which would be highly important, considering the existing

critical relations with Great Britain. General Harrison accepted

the suggestion, and on his return to North Bend wrote to Mr. Webster,

offering him the Department of State and asking his advice concerning

the other members of the Cabinet. The "solid men of Boston," who

had begun to entertain grave apprehensions of hostilities with

Great Britain, urged Mr. Webster to accept, and pledged themselves

to contribute liberally to his support.

No sooner was it intimated that Mr. Webster was to be the Premier

of the incoming Administration than the Calhoun wing of the Democratic

party denounced him as having countenanced the abolition of slavery,

and when his letter resigning his seat in the Senate was read in

that body, Senator Cuthbert, of Georgia, attacked him. The Georgian's

declamation was delivered with clenched fist; he pounded his desk,

gritted his teeth, and used profane language. Messrs. Clay, Preston,

and other Senators defended Mr. Webster from the attack of the

irate Georgian, and his friends had printed at Washington a large

edition of a speech which he had made a few months before on the

portico of the Capitol at Richmond before a vast assemblage.

"Beneath the light of an October sun, I say," he then declared,

"there is no power, directly or indirectly, in Congress or the

General Government, to interfere in the slightest degree with the

institutions of the South."

General Harrison, to quiet the cry of "Abolitionist," which had

been raised against him as well as Mr. Webster, made a visit to

Richmond prior to his inauguration, during which he availed himself

of every possible occasion to assert his devotion to the rights,

privileges, and prejudices of the South concerning the existence

of slavery. On his return he took a daily ride on the picturesque

banks of Rock Creek, rehearsing portions of his inaugural address.

The portfolio of the Treasury Department was given to Thomas Ewing,

of Ohio (familiarly known from his early avocation as "the Salt

Boiler of the Kanawha") who was physically and intellectually a

great man. He was of medium height, very portly, his ruddy complexion

setting off his bright, laughing eyes to the best advantage. On

"the stump" he had but few equals, as in simple language and without

apparent oratorical effort he breathed his own spirit into vast

audiences, and swayed them with resistless power. He resided in

a house built by Count de Menou, one of the French Legations, and

his daughter Ellen, now the wife of General Sherman, attended school

at the academy attached to the Convent of the Sisters of the

Visitation, in Georgetown.

The coming Secretary of War was John Bell, of Tennessee, a courtly

Jackson Democrat in years past, who had preferred to support Hugh

L. White rather than Martin Van Buren, and had thus drifted into

the Whig ranks. He had served as a Representative in Congress

since 1827, officiating during one term as Speaker, and he was

personally very popular.

For Secretary of the Navy George E. Badger, of North Carolina, was

selected. He had been graduated from Yale College, but had never

held other than local offices. His sailor-like figure and facetious

physiognomy were very appropriate for the position, and he soon

became a decided favorite at the Washington "messes," where he was

always ready to contribute freely from his fund of anecdotes.

Francis Granger, of New York, who was to be Postmaster-General,

was also a graduate of Yale College. He had been a member of the

New York State Legislature and of Congress, and the unsuccessful

Whig candidate for Vice-President in 1836. He was a genial, rosy-

faced gentleman, whose "silver gray" hair afterward gave its name

to the party in New York which recognized him as its leader.

The Attorney-General was J. J. Crittenden, a Kentuckian, whose

intellectual vigor, integrity of character, and legal ability had

secured for him a nomination to the bench of the Supreme Court by

President Adams, which, however, the Democratic Senate failed to

confirm. Kept in the shade by Henry Clay, he became somewhat

crabbed, but his was one of the noblest intellects of his generation.

His persuasive eloquence, his sound judgment, his knowledge of the

law, his lucid manner of stating facts, and his complete grasp of

every case which he examined had made him a power in the Senate

and in the Supreme Court, as he was destined to be in the Cabinet.

The inaugural message had been prepared by General Harrison in

Ohio, and he brought it with him to Washington, written in his

large hand on one side of sheets of foolscap paper. When it was

submitted to Mr. Webster, he respectfully suggested the propriety

of abridging it, and of striking from it some of the many classical

allusions and quotations with which it abounded. He found, however,

that General Harrison was not disposed to receive advice, and that

he was reluctant to part with any evidence of his classic scholarship.

Colonel Seaton used to relate with great gusto how Mr. Webster once

came late to a dinner party at his house, and said, as he entered

the dining-room, when the soup was being served: "Excuse my

tardiness, but I have been able to dispose of two Roman Emperors

and a pro-Consul, which should be a sufficient excuse."

General Harrison was inaugurated on Thursday, March 4th, 1841.

The city had filled up during the preceding night, and the roar of

the morning salutes was echoed by the bands of the military as they

marched to take their designated places. The sun was obscured,

but the weather was mild, and the streets were perfectly dry. At

ten o'clock a procession was formed, which escorted the President-

elect from his temporary residence, by way of Pennsylvania Avenue,

to the Capitol. No regular troops were on parade, but the uniformed

militia of the District of Columbia, reinforced by others from

Philadelphia and Baltimore, performed escort duty in a very creditable

manner. A carriage presented by the Whigs of Baltimore, and drawn

by four horses, had been provided for the President-elect, but he

preferred to ride on horseback, as the Roman Emperors were wont to

pass along the Appian Way. The old hero made a fine appearance,

mounted, as he was, on a spirited white charger. At his right,

slightly in the rear, rode Major Hurst, who had been his aid-de-

camp at the Battle of the Thames; at his left, in a similar position,

rode Colonel Todd, another aid-de-camp at the same battle. An

escort of assistant marshals, finely mounted, followed. Although

the weather was chilly, the General refused to wear an overcoat,

and he rode with his hat in his hand, gracefully bowing acknowledgments

of cheers from the multitudes on the sidewalks, and of the waving

of white handkerchiefs by ladies at the windows on either side.

Behind the President-elect came Tippecanoe Clubs and other political

associations, with music, banners, and badges. The Club from Prince

George County, Maryland, had in its ranks a large platform on

wheels, drawn by six white horses, on which was a power-loom from

the Laurel Factory, with operatives at work. Several of the clubs

drew large log cabins on wheels, decked with suitable inscriptions,

cider-barrels, 'coonskins, and other frontier articles. A feature

of the procession was the students of the Jesuits' College at

Georgetown, who appeared in uniform, headed by their faculty, and

carrying a beautiful banner.

An immense crowd had gathered at the Capitol, and at ten o'clock

ladies who had tickets were admitted into the gallery of the Senate

Chamber, and were provided with comfortable seats. The east door

leading to the Senate gallery was soon opened, when at least five

thousand persons rushed to that point. Less than a thousand were

enabled to reach the seats provided. Soon after the galleries were

filled, the foreign Ambassadors, wearing the court dresses and

insignia, were introduced on the floor. The members of the Senate

took their seats, after which the Senate was called to order by

the Clerk, and Senator King was chosen President _pro tem_. The

newly elected Senators were sworn, Vice-President Tyler, of Virginia,

entered arm-in-arm with ex-Vice-President Johnson, and after the

oath of office had been administered to him he took the chair and

called the Senate to order.

The President-elect was then ushered into the Senate Chamber by

the Committee, of which Mr. Preston was chairman. The Judges of

the Supreme Court, wearing their black silk robes, had taken their

seats in front, below the Speaker's chair. The President-elect

shook hands cordially with a number of the Senators and Judges,

and appeared much younger than many who were his juniors in years.

At half-past twelve o'clock the signal was given, and the officers

in the Senate Chamber formed in procession and proceeded to the

eastern front of the Capitol, where there was a platform some

fifteen feet high and large enough to accommodate an immense crowd.

The President-elect took his seat in front, Chief Justice Taney

and his associates by his side, the Senators and Ambassadors on

the left, and the ladies at the sides. The large area below was

filled with an immense multitude of probably not less than from

forty to fifty thousand persons. General Harrison, as "the observed

of all observers," was greeted with prolonged cheers when he rose

to deliver his address. When the uproar had subsided he advanced

to the front of the platform, and there was a profound stillness

as he read, in a loud and clear voice, his inaugural address. He

stood bare-headed, without overcoat or gloves, facing the cold

northeast wind, while those seated on the platform around him,

although warmly wrapped, suffered from the piercing blasts. All

were astonished at the power and compass of his voice. He spoke

until two P. M.--one and a half hours--with a clearness that was

truly surprising. So distinctly were his words heard that he was

cheered at the closing of every sentiment, particularly where he

said that he would carry out the pledge that he had made, that

under no circumstances would he run for another term. Just before

the close of the inaugural he turned to Chief Justice Taney, who

held the Bible, and in a clear and distinct voice repeated the oath

required. It was a singular fact that when the President took the

oath this multitude of spectators before him spontaneously uncovered

their heads, while the pealing cannon announced to the country that

it had a new Chief Magistrate. As soon as the ceremony was over

the immense concourse turned their faces from the Capitol, and

filed down the various walks to Pennsylvania Avenue. The procession

formed anew and marched to the White House, cheered as it passed

by the waiting crowds.

Entering the White House, President Harrison took his station in

the reception-room, and the multitude entered the front portal,

passed through the vestibule into the reception-room, where they

had an opportunity to shake hands with the President, then passed

down the rear steps and out through the garden. At night there

were three inauguration balls, the prices of admission suiting

different pockets. At one, where the tickets were ten dollars for

gentlemen, the ladies being invited guests, there was a representation

from almost every State in the Union. President Harrison,

notwithstanding the fatigues of the day, remained over an hour,

and was attended by several members of his Cabinet. Mr. Webster

was in excellent spirits, and chatted familiarly with Mr. Clay at

the punch-bowl, where libations were drunk to the success of the

new Administration.

Thus the new Administration was inaugurated. The Democrats

surrendered the power which they had so despotically wielded for

twelve years, and their opponents, consolidated under the Whig

banner, took the reins of government. Passing over Webster and

Clay, their recognized leaders, they had elected Harrison as a more

available candidate, he having been a gallant soldier and having

but few enemies. For Vice-President they had elected John Tyler,

for the sole reason that his Democratic affiliations would secure

the electoral vote of Virginia.

[Facsimile]

Wm H Harrison

WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON was born in Charles County, Virginia, February

9th, 1773; was Delegate in Congress from the Northwest Territory,

December 2d, 1790, to March, 1800; was Governor of Indiana, 1801-

1813; was a Representative in Congress from Ohio, December 2d,

1816, to March 3d, 1819; was United States Senator, December 5th,

1825, to May 20th, 1828; was Minister to Colombia, May 24th, 1828,

to September 26th, 1829; became President of the United States,

March 4th, 1841, and died in Washington City, April 4th, 1841.

CHAPTER XIX.

HARRISON'S ONE MONTH OF POWER.

Government officials at Washington, nearly all of whom had received

their positions as rewards for political services, and many of whom

had displaced worthy men whose only fault was that they belonged to

a different party, were somewhat encouraged by the declarations of

President Harrison touching the position of office-holders. It

was known from a speech of his at Baltimore, prior to his inauguration,

that he intended to protect the right of individual opinion from

official interference, and in a few days after he became President

his celebrated civil-service circular was issued by Daniel Webster,

as Secretary of State. It was addressed to the heads of the

Executive Departments, and it commenced thus:

"SIR:--The President is of the opinion that it is a great abuse to

bring the patronage of the General Government into conflict with

the freedom of elections; and that this abuse ought to be corrected

wherever it may have been permitted to exist, and to be prevented

for the future."

It would have been fortunate for the country if these views of

President Harrison, so clearly stated by Daniel Webster in this

circular, could have been honestly carried out; but the horde of

hungry politicians that had congregated at Washington, with racoon-

tails in their hats and packages of recommendations in their pockets,

clamored for the wholesale action of the political guillotine, that

they might fill the vacancies thereby created. Whigs and Federalists,

National Republicans and strict constructionists, bank and anti-

bank men had coalesced under the motto of "Union of the Whigs for

the Whigs for the sake of the Union," but they had really united

"for the sake of office." The Administration found itself forced

to make removals that places might be found for this hungry horde,

and to disregard its high position on civil service. Virginia was

especially clamorous for places, and Vice-President Tyler became

the champion of hundreds who belonged to the first families, but

who were impecunious.

Direct conflict soon arose between the President and his Cabinet,

he asserting his right to make appointments and removals, while

they took the ground that it was simply his duty to take such action

as they chose to dictate. The Cabinet were sustained by the opinion

of Attorney-General John C. Crittenden, and they also under his

advice claimed the right to review the President's nominations

before they were sent to the Senate. To the President, who had as

Governor and as General been in the habit of exercising autocratic

command, these attempts to hamper his action were very annoying,

and at times he "kicked over the traces."

One day, after a rather stormy Cabinet meeting, Mr. Webster asked

the President to appoint one of his political supporters, General

James Wilson, of New Hampshire, Governor of the Territory of Iowa.

President Harrison replied that it would give him pleasure to do

so had he not promised the place to Colonel John Chambers, of

Kentucky, his former aid-de-camp, who had been acting as his private

secretary. The next day Colonel Chambers had occasion to visit

the Department of State, and Mr. Webster asked him if the President

had offered to appoint him Governor of Iowa. "Yes, sir," was the

reply. "Well, sir," said Mr. Webster with sour sternness, a cloud

gathering on his massive brow, while his unfathomable eyes glowed

with anger, "you must not take that position, for I have promised

it to my friend, General Wilson." Colonel Chambers, who had been

a member of Congress, and was older than Mr. Webster, was not

intimidated, but replied, "Mr. Webster, I shall accept the place,

and I tell you, sir, not to undertake to dragoon me!" He then left

the room, and not long afterward Mr. Webster received from the

President a peremptory order to commission John Chambers, of

Kentucky, as Governor of the Territory of Iowa, which was complied

with.

Mr. Clay undertook to insist upon some removals, that personal

friends of his might be appointed to the offices thus vacated, and

he used such dictatorial language that after he had left the White

House President Harrison wrote him a formal note, requesting that

he would make any further suggestions he might desire to submit in

writing. Mr. Clay was very much annoyed, and Mr. King, of Alabama,

making some remarks in the Senate soon afterward which might be

construed as personally offensive, the great Commoner opened his

batteries upon him, saying in conclusion that the assertions of

the Senator from Alabama were "false, untrue, and cowardly."

Mr. King immediately rose and left the Senate Chamber. Mr. Levin,

of Missouri, was called out, and soon returned, bringing a note,

which he handed to Mr. Clay, who read it, and then handed it to

Mr. Archer. Messrs. Levin and Archer immediately engaged in an

earnest conversation, and it was soon known that a challenge had

passed, and they as seconds were endeavoring amicably to arrange

the affair. After four days of negotiation, Mr. Preston, of South

Carolina, and other Senators, acting as mediators, the affair was

honorably adjusted. Mr. King withdrew his challenge, Mr. Clay

declared every epithet derogatory to the honor of the Senator from

Alabama to be withdrawn, and Mr. Preston expressed his satisfaction

at the happy termination of the misunderstanding between the

Senators. While Mr. Preston was speaking Mr. Clay rose, walked to

the opposite side of the Senate Chamber, and stopping in front of

the desk of the Senator from Alabama, said, in a pleasant tone,

"King, give us a pinch of your snuff?" Mr. King, springing to his

feet, held out his hand, which was grasped by Mr. Clay and cordially

shaken, the Senators and spectators applauding the pacific

demonstration.

The leading Washington correspondent at that time was Dr. Francis

Bacon, brother of the Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon, of New Haven,

Connecticut. He wrote for the New York _American_, then edited by

Charles King, signing his articles R. M. T. H.--Regular Member

Third House. Dr. Bacon wielded a powerful pen, and when he chose

so to do could condense a column of denunciation, satire, and

sarcasm in to a single paragraph. He was a fine scholar, fearless

censor, and terse writer, giving his many readers a clear idea of

what was transpiring at the Federal metropolis.

A new-comer among the correspondents during the Harrison Administration

was Mr. Nathan Sargent, whose correspondence to the Philadelphia

_United States Gazette_, over the signature of "Oliver Oldschool,"

soon became noted. His carefully written letters gave a continuous

narrative of important events as they occurred, and he was one who

aided in making the Whig party, like the Federal party, which had

preceded it, eminently respectable.

Washington correspondents, up to this time, had been the mediums

through which a large portion of the citizens of the United States

obtained their information concerning national affairs. The only

reports of the debates in Congress appeared in the Washington

newspapers often several weeks after their delivery. James Gordon

Bennett, who had then become proprietor of the New York _Herald_,

after publishing President Harrison's call for an extra session of

Congress in advance of his contemporaries, determined to have the

proceedings and debates reported for and promptly published in his

own columns. To superintend the reporting, he engaged Robert

Sutton, who organized a corps of phonographers, which was the

nucleus of the present able body of official reporters of the

debates. Sutton was a short, stout, pragmatical Englishman, whose

desire to obtain extra allowances prompted him to revise, correct,

and polish up reports which should have been verbatim, and thus to

take the initiative in depriving official reports of debates of a

large share of their value. Since then, Senators and Representatives

address their constituents through the reports, instead of debating

questions among themselves.

The diplomatic representative of Great Britain, during the greater

part of the Jackson Administration, was the Right Honorable Charles

Richard Vaughan, who was a great favorite among Congressmen and

citizens at Washington, many of whom were his guests at the Decatur

Mansion, then the British Legation. He was a well-educated and

well-informed gentleman, with the courteous manners of the old

school. When recalled after ten years' service at Washington, he

was a jovial bachelor of fifty, fond of old Madeira wine and a

quiet rubber of whist.

A good story is told of General Roger Weightman, when Mayor of the

city, who sent by mistake an invitation to Sir Charles Vaughan to

attend a Fourth-of-July dinner, at which speeches were invariably

made abusive of the British and their Vandalism in the recent war.

Sir Charles, who was a finished diplomat, might have construed the

invitation into an insult, but he wrote a very polite response,

saying that he thought he should be "indisposed" on the Fourth of

July.

Russia was then represented by the Baron de Krudener, who resided

in a large house built by Thomas Swann, a wealthy Baltimorean.

Amicable relations with "our ancient ally," France, had been

interrupted by the brusque demand of General Jackson for the payment

of the indemnity. Monsieur Serruvier was recalled, leaving the

Legation in charge of Alphonso Pageot, the Secretary. He also was

recalled, but after the Jackson Administration was sent back as

Charge.

It was expected that the session of the Twenty-sixth Congress,

which terminated on the day of the inauguration of General Harrison,

would have been followed by a duel between Mr. Edward Stanley, of

North Carolina, and Mr. Francis W. Pickens, of South Carolina.

Mr. Stanley had been criticised in debate by Mr. Pickens, and he

retorted mercilessly. "The gentleman," said he, "compares my speech

to the attempt of a 'savage shooting at the sun.' It may be so,

sir. But the Committee will remember that in the remarks I made

I did not address myself to the gentleman who has so unnecessarily

interposed in this debate. And why did I not, sir? Not because

I thought I should be as powerless as he describes me, but because

I had seen him so often so unmercifully kicked and cuffed and

knocked about, so often run over on this floor, that I thought he

was beneath my notice, and utterly insignificant. Sir, the gentleman

says he is reminded by my speech of the 'nursery rhyme,'

'Who shot Cock Robin?

"I," said the Sparrow,

"With my bow and arrow,

I shot Cock Robin."'

Well, sir, I am willing to be the sparrow for this cock robin, this

chivalrous gentleman; and let me tell the gentleman, if he will

not deem me vain, I feel fully able, with my bow and arrow, to run

through a 'cowpen full' of such cock robins as he is. In conclusion,

I have only to say, sir, to the gentleman from South Carolina, that

though my arm may be 'pigmy,' though I may be but a sparrow in the

estimation of one 'born insensible to fear,' I am able, sir,

anywhere, as a sparrow from North Carolina, to put down a dozen

such cock robins as he is. 'Come one, come all,' ye South Carolina

cock robins, if you dare; I am ready for you." Mr. Pickens wrote

a challenge, but friends interposed, and the difficulty was honorably

arranged.

When Mr. Webster became Secretary of State, under President Harrison,

his friends in Boston and New York raised a purse to enable him to

purchase the Swann House, facing Lafayette Square. Mr. Webster

preferred, however, to purchase land at Marshfield, and after he

had occupied the house during the negotiations of the Ashburton

Treaty, the property passed into the hands of Mr. W. W. Corcoran,

who has since resided there.

Mr. Webster was his own purveyor, and was a regular attendant at

the Marsh Market on market mornings. He almost invariably wore a

large, broad-brimmed, soft felt hat, with his favorite blue coat

and bright buttons, a buff cassimere waistcoat, and black trousers.

Going from stall to stall, followed by a servant bearing a large

basket in which purchases were carried home, he would joke with

the butchers, fish-mongers, and green-grocers with a grave drollery

of which his biographers, in their anxiety to deify him, have made

no mention. He always liked to have a friend of two at his dinner-

table, and in inviting them, _sans ceremonie_, he would say, in

his deep, cheery voice, "Come and dine with me to-morrow. I

purchased a noble saddle of Valley of Virginia mutton in market

last week, and I think you will enjoy it." Or, "I received some

fine cod-fish from Boston to-day, sir; will you dine with me at

five o'clock and taste them?" Or, "I found a famous possum in

market this morning, sir, and left orders with Monica, my cook, to

have it baked in the real old Virginia style, with stuffing of

chestnuts and surrounded by baked sweet potatoes. It will be a

dish fit for the gods. Come and taste it."

President Harrison, who was an early riser, used to go to market,

and he invariably refused to wear an overcoat, although the spring

was cold and stormy. One morning, having gone to the market thus

thinly attired, he was overtaken by a slight shower and got wet,

but refused to change his clothes. The following day he felt

symptoms of indisposition, which were followed by pneumonia. At

his Ohio home he had lived plainly and enjoyed sleep, but at

Washington he had, while rising early, rarely retired before one

o'clock in the morning, and his physical powers, enfeebled by age,

had been overtaxed. At the same time, the President's mental powers

had undergone a severe strain, as was evident when he became somewhat

delirious. Sometimes he would say, "My dear madam, I did not direct

that your husband should be turned out. I did not know it. I

tried to prevent it." On other occasions he would say, in broken

sentences, "It is wrong--I won't consent--'tis unjust!" "These

applications--will they never cease!" The last time that he spoke

was about three hours before his death, when his physicians and

attendants were standing over him. Clearing his throat, as if

desiring to speak audibly, and as though he fancied himself addressing

his successor, or some official associate in the Government, he

said: "Sir, I wish you to understand the true principles of the

Government. I wish them carried out. I ask nothing more."

"One little month" after President Harrison's inauguration multitudes

again assembled to attend his funeral. Minute-guns were fired

during the day, flags were displayed at half staff, and Washington

was crowded with strangers at an early hour. The buildings of

either side of Pennsylvania Avenue, with scarcely an exception,

and many houses on the contiguous streets, were hung with festoons

and streamers of black. Almost every private dwelling had crape

upon its door, and many of the very humblest abodes displayed some

spontaneous signal of the general sorrow. The stores and places

of business, even such as were too frequently seen open on the

Sabbath, were all closed.

Funeral services were performed in the Executive Mansion, which,

for the first time, was shrouded in mourning. The coffin rested

on a temporary catafalque in the centre of the East Room. It was

covered with black velvet, trimmed with gold lace, and over it was

thrown a velvet pall with a deep golden fringe. On this lay the

sword of Justice and the sword of State, surmounted by the scroll

of the Constitution, bound together by a funeral wreath, formed of

the yew and the cypress. Around the coffin stood in a circle the

new President, John Tyler, the venerable ex-President, John Quincy

Adams, Secretary Webster, and the other members of the Cabinet.

The next circle contained the Diplomatic Corps, in their richly

decorated court-suits, with a number of members of both houses of

Congress, and the relatives of the deceased President. Beyond this

circle a vast assemblage of ladies and gentlemen filled up the

room. Silence, deep and undisturbed, even by a whisper, prevailed.

When, at the appointed hour, the officiating clergyman said, "I am

the resurrection and the life," the entire audience rose, and joined

in the burial service of the Episcopalian Church.

After the services the coffin was carried to a large funeral car

drawn by six white horses, each having at its head a black groom

dressed in white, with white turban and sash. Outside of the grooms

walked the pall-bearers, dressed in black, with black scarves.

The contrast made by this slowly moving body of white and black,

so opposite to the strong colors of the military around it, struck

the eye even from the greatest distance.

The funeral procession, with its military escort, was two miles in

length, and eclipsed the inauguration pageant which had so recently

preceded it. The remains were escorted to the Congressional Burying-

Ground, where they were temporarily deposited in the receiving-

vault, to be taken subsequently to the banks of the Ohio, and there

placed in an unmarked and neglected grave. The troops present all

fired their volleys in such a ludicrously straggling manner as to

recall the dying request of Robert Burns that the awkward squad

might not fire over his grave. Then the drums and fifes struck up

merry strains, the military marched away, and only the scene of

the public bereavement remained.

[Facsimile]

T. Ewing

THOMAS EWING was born near West Liberty, Virginia, December 28th,

1779; was United States Senator from Ohio, December 5th, 1831, to

March 3d, 1837; was Secretary of the Treasury under President

Harrison, March 5th, 1841, to September 13th, 1841; was Secretary

of the Interior under President Taylor, March 7th, 1849, to July

25th, 1850; was again Senator from Ohio, July 27th, 1850, to March

3d, 1851, and died at Lancaster, Ohio, October 26th, 1871.

CHAPTER XX.

THE KING IS DEAD--LONG LIVE THE KING.

John Tyler, having found that his position as Vice-President gave

him no voice in the distribution of patronage, had retired in

disgust to his estate in Prince William County, Virginia, when Mr.

Fletcher Webster brought him a notification, from the Secretary of

State, to hasten to Washington to assume the duties of the President.

Mr. Webster reached Richmond on Sunday--the day following General

Harrison's death--chartered a steamboat, and arrived at Mr. Tyler's

residence on Monday at daybreak. Soon afterward, Mr. Tyler,

accompanied by his two sons, left with Mr. Webster, and arrived at

Washington early Tuesday morning.

The Cabinet had arrived at the conclusion that Mr. Tyler should be

officially styled, "Vice-President of the United States, acting

President," but he very promptly determined that he would enjoy

all of the dignities and honors of the office which he had inherited

under the Constitution. Chief Justice Taney was then absent, so

Mr. Tyler summoned Chief Justice Cranch, of the Supreme Court of

the District of Columbia, to his parlor at Brown's Indian Queen

Hotel, and took the oath of office administered to previous

Presidents. The Cabinet officers were soon made to understand that

he was Chief Magistrate of the Republic, and the Whig magnates

began to fear that their lease of power would soon terminate. In

conversation with Mr. Nathan Sargent, a prominent Whig correspondent,

soon after his arrival, Mr. Tyler significantly remarked: "If the

Democrats and myself ever come together, they must come to me; I

shall never go to them." This showed that he regarded his connection

with the Whigs as precarious.

The extra session of Congress, which had been convened by General

Harrison before his death, was not acceptable to his successor,

who saw that its legislation would be inspired and controlled by

Henry Clay. When the two houses were organized, he sent them a

brief message, in which the national bank question was dexterously

handled, "with the caution and ambiguity of a Talleyrand." Mr.

Clay lost no time in presenting his programme for Congressional

action; and in a few days its first feature, the repeal of the sub-

Treasury Act, was enacted. That night a thousand or more of the

jubilant Washington Whigs marched in procession from Capitol Hill

to the White House, with torches, music, transparencies, and

fireworks, escorting a catafalque on which was a coffin labeled,

"The sub-Treasury." As the procession moved slowly along Pennsylvania

Avenue, bonfires were kindled at the intersecting streets, many

houses were illuminated, and there was general rejoicing. On the

arrival of the procession at the Executive Mansion, President Tyler

came out and made a few remarks, while Mr. Webster and the other

members of the Cabinet bowed their thanks for the cheers given

them. The hilarious crowd of mock-mourners then repaired to the

house of Mrs. Brown, at the corner of Seventh and D Streets, where

Mr. Clay boarded, and received his grateful acknowledgments for

the demonstration. The next measure on Mr. Clay's programme, the

bill for the distribution of the proceeds of the sales of the public

lands among the States, was also promptly enacted and as promptly

approved by the President. Next came the National Bankrupt Act,

which was stoutly opposed by the Democrats, but it finally passed,

and was approved by Mr. Tyler.

When Congress enacted a bill creating a National Bank, however,

and sent it to the President for his approval, he returned it with

his veto. This created much discontent among the Whigs, while the

Democrats were so rejoiced that a considerable number of their

Congressmen called at the Executive Mansion. The President received

them cordially, and treated them to champagne, in which toasts were

drunk not very complimentary to the Whig party, or to its leader,

Mr. Clay. The Kentucky Senator soon saw that it was of no use to

temporize with his vacillating chieftain, who evidently desired to

become his own successor, so he determined to force the Administration

into a hostile attitude toward the Whigs, while he himself should

step to the front as their recognized leader. Haughty and imperious,

Mr. Clay was nevertheless so fascinating in his manner when he

chose to be that he held unlimited control over nearly every member

of the party. He remembered, too, that Tyler had been nominated

for Vice-President in pursuance of a bargain made by Clay's own

friends in the Legislature of Virginia, where they had joined the

Van Buren members in electing Mr. Rives to the Senate. This bargain

Mr. Clay had hoped would secure for him the support of the State

of Virginia in the nominating convention, and although Harrison

received the nomination for President, Clay's friends were none

the less responsible for the nomination of Tyler as Vice-President.

He was consequently very angry when he learned what had taken place

at the White House, and he availed himself of the first opportunity

to speak of the scene in the Senate, portraying the principal

personages present with adroit sarcasm.

Some of his descriptions were life-like, especially that of Mr.

Calhoun, "tall, careworn, with fevered brow, haggard cheek, and

eye intensely gazing, looking as if he were dissecting the last

and newest abstraction which sprung from some metaphysician's brain,

and muttering to himself, in half uttered words, 'This is indeed

a crisis!'" The best word-portrait, however, was that of Senator

Buchanan, whose manner and voice were humorously imitated while he

was described as presenting his Democratic associates to the

President. Mr. Buchanan pleasantly retorted, describing in turn

a caucus of disappointed Whig Congressmen, who discussed whether

it would be best to make open war upon "Captain Tyler," or to resort

to strategem, and, in the elegant language of Mr. Botts, "head him,

or die."

The mission to Great Britain had been tendered by President Harrison

to John Sargent, a distinguished Philadelphia lawyer, who had been

the candidate for Vice-President on the unsuccessful Whig ticket

headed by Henry Clay in 1836. Mr. Sargent having declined, President

Harrison appointed Edward Everett, of Massachusetts, who accepted

and his name came before the Senate for confirmation. Mr. Everett

was among the most conservative of New England politicians, but he

had once, in reply to inquiries from Abolitionists, expressed the

opinion that Congress had power to abolish slavery in the District

of Columbia. When the nomination came before the Senate, it was

opposed by Mr. Buchanan and Mr. King, of Alabama, and advocated by

Mr. Choate and Henry Clay. Mr. King, who would have received the

appointment had Mr. Everett's rejection created a vacancy, concluded

a bitter speech by saying that if Mr. Everett, holding views in

opposition to the South, was confirmed, the Union would be dissolved!

Mr. Clay sprang to his feet, and pointing his long arm and index

finger at Mr. King, said: "And I tell you, Mr. President, that if

a gentleman so pre-eminently qualified for the position of Minister

should be rejected by the Senate, and for the reason given by the

Senator from Alabama, this Union is dissolved already."

The nomination of Mr. Everett was confirmed by a vote of twenty-

three to nineteen. Every Democrat who voted, and two Southern

Whigs, voted against him, and several Northern Democrats dodged,

among them Pierce, of New Hampshire, Williams, of Maine, and Wright,

of New York. The Southern Whigs who stood their ground for Mr.

Everett were Clay, Morehead, Berrien, Clayton, Mangum, Merrick,

Graham, and Rives.

A second fiscal agent bill was prepared in accordance with the

President's expressed views, and he said to Mr. A. H. H. Stuart,

then a Representative from Virginia, holding him by the hand:

"Stuart, if you can be instrumental in getting this bill through

Congress, I shall esteem you as the best friend I have on earth."

An attempt was made in the Senate to amend it, which Mr. Choate,

who was regarded as the mouth-piece of Daniel Webster, opposed.

Mr. Clay endeavored to make him admit that some member of the

Administration had inspired him to assert that if the bill was

amended it would be vetoed, but Mr. Choate had examined too many

witnesses to be forced into any admission that he did not choose

to make. Persisting in his demand, Mr. Clay's manner and language

became offensive. "Sir," said Mr. Choate, "I insist on my right

to explain what I did say in my own words."

"But I want a direct answer," exclaimed Mr. Clay. "Mr. President,"

said Mr. Choate, "the gentleman will have to take my answer as I

choose to give it to him." Here the two Senators were called to

order, and both of them were requested to take their seats. The

next day Mr. Clay made an explanation, which was satisfactory to

Mr. Choate.

This second bank or fiscal agent bill was passed by Congress without

the change of a word or a letter, yet the President vetoed it.

When the veto message was received in the Senate there were some

hisses in the gallery, which brought Mr. Benton to his feet.

Expressing his indignation, he asked that the "ruffians" be taken

into custody, and one of those who had hissed was arrested, but,

on penitently expressing his regret, he was discharged. Tyler's

Cabinet first learned that he intended to veto this bank bill

through the columns of a New York paper, and such was their

indignation that all, with the exception of Mr. Webster, resigned.

Mr. Ewing, who had been appointed Secretary of the Treasury by

President Harrison, and who had been continued in office by Mr.

Tyler, published his letter of resignation, which gave all the

facts in the case. The Whig Senators and Representatives immediately

met in caucus and adopted an address to the people. It was written

by Mr. John P. Kennedy, of Maryland, and it set forth in temperate

language the differences between them and the President, his

equivocations and tergiversations, and in conclusion they repudiated

the Administration.

Caleb Cushing, of Newburyport, Massachusetts, then serving his

fourth term in the House, espoused the cause of President Tyler,

and boldly opposed the intolerant action of his Whig associates.

Years afterward Franklin Pierce told his most intimate friend,

Nathaniel Hawthorne, that Caleb Cushing had such mental variety

and activity that he could not, if left to himself, keep hold of

one view of things, but needed the influence of a more stable

judgment to keep him from divergency. His fickleness was intellectual,

not moral. Mr. Cushing was at that time forty-one years of age,

of medium height, with intellectual features, quick-glancing dark

eyes, and an unmusical voice. He spoke with ease and fluency, but

his speeches read better than they sounded. His knowledge was vast

and various, and his style, tempered by foreign travel, was classical.

He had mastered history, politics, law, jurisprudence, moral science,

and almost every other branch of knowledge, which enabled him to

display an erudition as marvelous in amount as it was varied in

kind.

The Southern Representatives, who had regarded Mr. Cushing with

some apprehension as a possible leader of the coming struggle for

the abolition of slavery, were well pleased when they saw him

breaking away from his Northern friends. When an attempt was made

to depose John Quincy Adams from the Chairmanship of the House

Committee on Foreign Affairs, because he had stood up manfully for

the right of petition, the irate ex-President asserted in the House

that the position had been offered to Mr. Cushing, who was also a

member. This Mr. Cushing denied, but Mr. Adams, his bald head

turning scarlet, exclaimed: "I had the information from the

gentleman himself."

In this debate, Mr. Adams went to some length into the history of

his past life, his intercourse and friendship with Washington,

Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe, during their successive Presidential

terms. He spoke of their confidence in himself, as manifested by

the various important offices conferred upon him, alluding to

important historical facts in this connection. He knew that they

all abhorred slavery, and he could prove it, if it were desired,

from the testimony of Jefferson, Madison, and Washington themselves.

There was not an Abolitionist of the wildest character, the ex-

President affirmed, but might find in the writings of Jefferson,

at the time of the Declaration of Independence, and during his

whole life, down to its very last year, a justification for everything

their party says on the subject of slavery, and a description of

the horrors of slavery greater then they had power to express.

Henry A. Wise had been Mr. Clay's instrument in securing the

nomination of Mr. Tyler as Vice-President, and was the most

influential adviser at the White House. He was then in the prime

of his early manhood, tall, spare, and upright, with large,

lustreless, gray-blue eyes, high cheek bones, a large mouth, a

complexion saffron-hued, from his inordinate use of tobacco, and

coarse, long hair, brushed back from his low forehead. He was

brilliant in conversation, and when he addressed an audience he

was the incarnation of effective eloquence. No one has ever poured

forth in the Capitol of the United States such torrents of words,

such erratic flights of fancy, such blasting insinuations, such

solemn prayers, such blasphemous imprecations. Like Jeremiah of

old, he felt the dark shadow of coming events; and he regarded the

Yankees as the inevitable foes of the old Commonwealth of Virginia.

He had hoped that the caucus of Whig Representatives, at the

commencement of the session, would have nominated him for Speaker.

But John White, of Kentucky, had received the nomination, Mr. Clay

having urged his friends to vote for him, and Mr. Wise, goaded on

by disappointed ambition, sought revenge by endeavoring to destroy

the Whig party. He hoped to build on its ruins a new political

organization composed of Whigs and of such Democrats as might be

induced to enlist under the Tyler banner by a lavish distribution

of the "loaves and fishes." President Tyler's vanity made it easy

to secure him as a figure-head, and it was an easy task to array

him in direct opposition to the Clay Whigs, when John M. Botts

wrote an insulting letter, in which he recommended his political

associates to "head Captain Tyler, or die."

As the close of the extra session approached, the breach between

President Tyler and the Whig party was widened, and those who had

elected him saw their hopes blasted, and the labors of the campaign

lost, by his ambitious perfidy. Nearly all of his nominations for

office were promptly rejected, and those who for place had espoused

his cause found themselves disappointed. A few days before the

final adjournment, it was announced that Senator Bagby, of Alabama,

would the next afternoon expose the shortcomings of the Whig party.

He was a type of the old-school Virginia lawyers, who had removed

to the Gulf States, and there acquired political position and

fortune. He was a large man, with a bald head, a strong voice,

and a watch-seal dangling from his waistband.

The "Corporal's Guard" who sustained Mr. Tyler were all on hand

and prominently seated to hear him abuse the Whigs, and they

evidently had great expectations that he might eulogize the President.

Upshur, Cushing, Wise, Gilmer, with the President's sons, Robert

and John, were on the floor of the Senate, and they were evidently

delighted as the eloquent Alabamian handled the Whig party without

gloves. He undertook to show that they were for and against a

National Bank, in favor of and opposed to a tariff, pro-slavery

and anti-slavery, according to their location, but all united by

a desire to secure the Federal offices.

Proceeding in a strain of fervid eloquence, he all at once turned

to Senator Smith, of Indiana, who was sitting in front of him, and

asked, in stentorian tones: "Why don't you Whigs keep your promises

to the American people? I pause for an answer!" Mr. Smith promptly

replied: "Because _your_ President won't let us." Mr. Bagby stood

still for a moment and then contemptuously exclaimed: "_Our_

President! OUR President! Do you think that we would go to the

most corrupt party that was ever formed in the United States, and

then take for our President the meanest renegade that ever left

the party?" He then went on to castigate Mr. Tyler, while the

"Corporal's Guard," sadly disappointed, one by one, "silently stole

away," and had no more faith in Mr. Bagby.

Junius Brutus Booth still continued to be the leading star at the

Washington Theatre, and President Tyler used often to enjoy his

marvelous renderings, especially his "Sir Giles Overreach," "King

Lear," "Shylock," "Othello," and "Richard the Third." Booth, at

this time, was more than ever a slave to intoxicating drink, so

much so that he would often disappoint his audiences, sometimes

wholly failing to appear, yet his popularity remained unabated.

[Facsimile]

Franklin Pierce

FRANKLIN PIERCE was born at Hillsborough, New Hampshire, November

23d, 1804; was a Representative from New Hampshire, December 2d,

1833, to March 3d, 1837; was United States Senator from New Hampshire,

September 4th, 1837 - 1842, when he resigned; declined the position

of Attorney-General, offered him by President Polk in 1846; served

in the Mexican War as brigadier-general; was President of the United

States, March 4th, 1853, to March 3d, 1857, and died at Concord,

New Hampshire, October 8th, 1860.

CHAPTER XXI.

DIPLOMATIC AND SOCIAL LIFE OF WEBSTER.

Mr. Webster's great work as Secretary of State--indeed, he regarded

it as the greatest achievement of his life--was the negotiation of

a treaty with Great Britain adjusting all existing controversies.

To secure this had prompted Mr. Webster to enter the Cabinet of

General Harrison, and when Mr. Tyler became President Mr. Webster

pledged himself to his wealthy friends in Boston and New York not

to resign until the troubles with the mother country had been

amicably adjusted. His position soon became very unpleasant. On

the one hand President Tyler, whose great desire was the annexation

of Texas, wanted him to resign; on the other hand, many influential

Whigs began to regard him with distrust for remaining in the enemy's

camp. But Mr. Webster kept on, regardless of what was said by

friend or foe.

The appointment of Lord Ashburton to represent the British Government

was especially gratifying to Mr. Webster, who had become personally

acquainted with him when he visited England in 1839. Lord Ashburton's

family name was Alex. Baring. He had visited Philadelphia when it

was the seat of the Federal Government as the representative of

his father's banking house. Among those to whom he had letters of

introduction was Mr. John A. Bingham, a wealthy merchant and United

States Senator, who lived in great style. Miss Maria Matilda

Bingham, the Senator's only daughter, who was but sixteen years of

age, had just been persuaded by the Count de Tilly, a profligate

French nobleman, to elope with him. They were married, but the

Count soon intimated that he did not care for the girl if he could

obtain some of her prospective fortune. He finally accepted five

thousand pounds in cash and an annuity of six hundred pounds, and

left for France. A divorce was obtained, and Senator Bingham was

well pleased soon afterward when young Mr. Baring wooed and won

his daughter. With the fortune her father gave her he was enabled

on his return to London to enter the House of Baring Brothers as

a partner, and on retiring from business in 1835 he was created a

Baron, with the title of Lord Ashburton. When appointed on a

special mission to Washington Lord Ashburton wrote to Mr. Webster,

asking him to rent a suitable house for the accommodation of himself

and suite. Mr. Webster accordingly rented the spacious and thoroughly

equipped mansion erected by Matthew St. Clair Clarke, Clerk of the

House, in his prosperous days. The price paid was twelve thousand

dollars rent for ten months, and an additional thousand dollars

for damages.

Mr. Webster, who had received full powers from President Tyler to

conduct the negotiations on the part of the United States, occupied

the Swann House, near that occupied by Lord Ashburton. Much of

the preliminary negotiation was carried on at the dinner-tables of

the contracting parties, and Congressional guests were alike charmed

by the hospitable attentions of the "fine old English gentleman"

and the Yankee Secretary of State. Lord Ashburton offered his

guests the cream of culinary perfection and the gastronomic art,

with the rarest wines, while at Mr. Webster's table American

delicacies were served in American style. Maine salmon, Massachusetts

mackerel, New Jersey oysters, Florida shad, Kentucky beef, West

Virginia mutton, Illinois prairie chickens, Virginia terrapin,

Maryland crabs, Delaware canvas-back ducks, and South Carolina rice-

birds were cooked by Monica, and served in a style that made the

banker diplomat admit their superiority to the potages, sauces,

entremets, ragouts, and desserts of his Parisian white-capped

manipulator of casse-roles.

Lord Ashburton was about five feet ten inches in height, and was

heavily built, as Mr. Webster was. He had a large head, a high

forehead, dark eyes, with heavy eyebrows, and a clear red and white

complexion. His principal secretary and adviser was Mr. Frederick

William Adolphus Bruce, then in the Foreign Office, who, after a

brilliant diplomatic career, was appointed a Knight Commander of

the Bath, and came again to Washington in 1865 as the British

Minister. Another secretary was Mr. Stepping, a fair-complexioned

little gentleman, who was a great wit, and who made a deal of sport

for the Congressional guests.

The treaty, as finally agreed upon, settled a vexatious quarrel

over our Northeastern boundary, it overthrew the British claim to

exercise the right of search, and it established the right of

property in slaves on an American vessel driven by stress of weather

into a British port. But the treaty did not settle the exasperating

controversy over the fisheries on the North Atlantic coast or the

disputed Northwestern boundary. When the treaty finally reached

the Senate, it was debated for several weeks in executive session,

Mr. Benton leading a strong opposition to it. Near the close of

the debate Mr. Calhoun made a strong speech in favor of ratification,

in which he praised both Lord Ashburton and Mr. Webster. This

speech secured the ratification of the treaty.

Having concluded the Ashburton Treaty, Mr. Webster started for New

England to enjoy the rural life so dear to him on his farm at

Franklin, New Hampshire, and at Marshfield, Massachusetts. He

announced, before he left Washington, that on his arrival at Boston

he should address his friends in Faneuil Hall, and there was an

intense desire to her what he might have to say on public affairs.

The leaders of the Whig party hoped that he would announce a

resignation of his office as Secretary of State, denounce the

duplicity of President Tyler, and come gracefully to the support

of Henry Clay, who had imperiously demanded the Presidential

nomination. But Mr. Webster declined to accept the advice given

him, and spoke his mind very freely and frankly. There was--said

one who heard the speech--no sly insinuation of innuendo, but a

straightforward, independent expression of truth, a copious outpouring

of keen reproof, solemn admonition, and earnest entreaty.

Among those former home-friends whose behavior was very annoying

to Mr. Webster at this time was Mr. Abbott Lawrence, a Boston

merchant, who, having amassed a large fortune, coveted political

honors, and was a liberal contributor to the campaign fund of his

party. Astute and observing, he imagined himself a representative

of the merchant-princes of Venice under the Doges and England under

the Plantagenets, and he spoke in a measured, stately tone, advancing

his ideas with a positiveness that would not brook contradiction.

On several occasions he had been one of the "solid men of Boston"

who had contributed considerable sums for the pecuniary relief of

Mr. Webster, and this emboldened him to assume a dictatorial tone

in advising the Secretary of State to resign after the Ashburton

Treaty had been negotiated. The command was treated with sovereign

contempt, and thenceforth Mr. Lawrence looked upon Mr. Webster as

ungrateful, and as standing in the way of his own political

advancement. But Mr. Webster defied the would-be cotton-lord,

saying: "I am a Whig--a Faneuil Hall Whig--and if any one undertakes

to turn me out of that communion, let him see to it who gets out

first."

While Mr. Webster had been negotiating the Ashburton Treaty, and

after he had found rest at Marshfield, he displayed the same

sprightly humor and tender sweetness which so endeared him to those

who were permitted to enjoy intimate social relations with him.

He always rose with the sun, visiting his farm-yards at Marshfield,

and going to market at Washington, before breakfast, with a visit

at either place to the kitchen, where he would gravely discuss the

culinary programme of the day with Monica, a cook of African descent,

whose freedom he had purchased. After breakfast, he would study

or write or fish all day, dressing for a late dinner, after which

he gave himself up to recreation; sometimes, as Colonel Seaton's

daughter has pleasantly told us, singing hymns or songs, generally

impartially to the same tune; or gravely essaying the steps of a

_minuet de la cour_, which he had seen danced in the courtly

Madisonian era; or joining in the jests of the gay circle, magnificent

teeth gleaming, his great, living coals of eyes--"sleeping furnaces,"

Carlyle called them--soft as a woman's; or his rare, tender smile

lighting up the dusky grandeur of his face. Mr. Webster was not,

at that period of his life, an intemperate drinker, although, like

many other gentlemen of that day, he often imbibed too freely at

the dinner-table.

An amusing account has been given of an after-dinner speech by Mr.

Webster at a gathering of his political friends, when he had to be

prompted by a friend who sat just behind him, and gave him successively

phrases and topics. The speech proceeded somewhat after this

fashion: Prompter: "Tariff." Webster: "The tariff, gentlemen,

is a subject requiring the profound attention of the statesman.

American industry, gentlemen, must be ----" (nods a little).

Prompter: "National Debt." Webster: "And, gentlemen, there's

the national debt--it should be paid (loud cheers, which rouse the

speaker); yes, gentlemen, it should be paid (cheers), and I'll be

hanged if it sha'n't be--(taking out his pocket-book)--I'll pay it

myself! How much is it?" This last question was asked of a

gentleman near him with drunken seriousness, and, coupled with the

recollection of the well-known impecuniosity of Webster's pocket-

book it excited roars of laughter, amidst which the orator sank

into his seat and was soon asleep.

Prominent among the Whig Senators was Nathan F. Dixon, of Westerly,

Rhode Island. He was one of the old school of political gentlemen.

His snow-white hair was tied in a long queue, he had a high forehead,

aquiline nose, wide mouth, and dark eyes, which gleamed thorough

his glasses. Respecting the body of which he was a member, he used

to appear in a black coat and knee-breeches, with a ruffled shirt,

white waistcoat, and white silk stockings. He was the Chairman of

the Whig Senatorial caucus, and on the last night of the extra

session Mr. Clay had complimented him, in rather equivocal language,

on the ability with which he had presided. When the laughter had

subsided, Senator Dixon rose, and with inimitable humor thanked

the Senator from Kentucky. "I am aware," said he, "that I never

had but one equal as a presiding officer, and that was the Senator

from Kentucky. Some of you may have thought that he was not in

earnest, but did you know him as well as I do, you would credit

any remark he may make before ten o'clock at night--after that,

owing to the strength of his night-caps, there may be doubts."

Roars of laughter followed, and the Senate caucus adjourned, as

the Senate had done, _sine die_.

President Tyler had great faith in the power of the newspaper press,

and he secured, at an early period of his Administration, by a

lavish distribution of the advertising patronage of the Executive

Departments, an "organ" in nearly every State. The journals thus

recompensed for their support of the Administration were generally

without political influence, but Mr. Tyler prized their support,

and personally looked after their interests. Alluding to them in

a letter to a friend, he said: "Their motives may be selfish, but

if I reject them for that, who among the great mass of office-

holders can be trusted? They give one all the aid in their power,

and I do not stop to inquire into motives." In another letter he

complains of an official at New Orleans, saying: "I have felt no

little surprise at the fact that he should have thrown into the

_Bee_ [a most abusive paper] advertisements of great value, and

refused to give them to the _Republican_, a paper zealous and able

in the cause of the Administration." The central "organ," from

which the others were to take their cues, was the _Madisonian_,

originally established by Thomas Allen. He disposed of it after

he married the handsome and wealthy Miss Russell, of Missouri,

whose tiara and necklace of diamonds had been the envy of all the

ladies at Washington. John B. Johnson, the author of _Wild Western

Scenes_, then became the editor, and wrote ponderous editorials

advocating "Justice to John Tyler," which the minor organs all over

the country were expected to copy.

[Facsimile]

Rufus Choate

RUFUS CHOATE was born at Ipswich, Massachusetts, October 1st, 1819;

was a Representative in Congress from Massachusetts, 1831-1834;

was United States Senator, 1841-1845, and died at Halifax, Nova

Scotia, July 13th, 1859.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE CAPITOL AND THE DRAWING-ROOM.

When the Twenty-seventh Congress met in December, 1841, it was

evident that there could be no harmonious action between that body

and the President, but he was not disposed to succumb. Writing to

a friend, he said the coming session was "likely to prove as

turbulent and fractious as any since the days of Adam. But [he

added] I have a firm grip on the reins." In this he was mistaken,

or, rather, he had been deceived by the sycophants around him.

Neither House paid any attention to the recommendations which he

made in his messages, and only a few of his nominations were

confirmed. The Whigs, who had elected the President, repudiated

all responsibility for his acts and treated him as a traitor, and

the Democrats, while they accepted offices from him, generally

spoke of him with contempt.

The Senate contained at that time many able men. Henry Clay was

in the pride of his political power, but uneasy and restive as a

caged lion. John C. Calhoun was in the full glory of his intellectual

magnificence and purity of personal character. Preston's flexible

voice and graceful gestures invested his eloquence with resistless

effect over those whom it was intended to persuade, to encourage,

or to control. Barrow, of Louisiana, the handsomest man in the

Senate, spoke with great effect. Phelps, of Vermont, was a somewhat

eccentric yet forcible debater. Silas Wright, Levi Woodbury, and

Robert J. Walker were laboring for the restoration of the Democrats

to power. Benton stood sturdily, like a gnarled oak-tree, defying

all who offered to oppose him. Allen, whose loud voice had gained

for him the appellation of "the Ohio gong," spoke with his usual

vehemence. Franklin Pierce was demonstrating his devotion to the

slave-power, while Rufus Choate poured forth his wealth of words

in debate, his dark complexion corrugated by swollen veins, and

his great, sorrowful eyes gazing earnestly at his listeners.

In the House of Representatives there were unusually brilliant and

able men. John Quincy Adams, Chairman of the Committee on Foreign

Affairs, was the recognized leader. Mr. Fillmore, of New York, a

stalwart, pleasant-featured man, with a remarkably clear-toned

voice, was Chairman of the Committee on Ways and Means. Henry A.

Wise, Chairman of the Committee on Naval Affairs, was able to secure

a large share of patronage for the Norfolk Navy Yard. George N.

Briggs (afterward Governor of Massachusetts), who was an earnest

advocate of temperance, was Chairman of the Postal Committee.

Joshua R. Giddings, who was a sturdy opponent of slavery at that

early day, was Chairman of the Committee on Claims. John P. Kennedy,

of Maryland, an accomplished scholar and popular author, was Chairman

of the Committee on Commerce; Edward Stanley, of North Carolina,

was Chairman of the Committee on Military Affairs; Leverett

Saltonstall, of the Committee on Manufactures; indeed, there was

not a Committee of the House that did not have a first-class man

as its chairman.

But the session soon became a scene of sectional strife. Mr. Adams,

in offering his customary daily budget of petitions, presented one

from several anti-slavery citizens of Haverhill, Massachusetts,

praying for a dissolution of the Union, which raised a tempest.

The Southern Representatives met that night, in caucus, and the

next morning Mr. Marshall, of Kentucky, offered a series of

resolutions deploring the presentation of the obnoxious petition

and censuring Mr. Adams for having presented it. An excited and

acrimonious debate, extending over several days, followed. The

principal feature of this exciting scene was the venerable object

of censure, then nearly four-score years of age, his limbs trembling

with palsy, his bald head crimson with excitement, and tears dropping

from his eyes, as he for four days stood defying the storm and

hurling back defiantly the opprobrium with which his adversaries

sought to stigmatize him. He was animated by the recollection that

the slave-power had prevented the re-election of his father and of

himself to the Presidential chair, and he poured forth the hoarded

wrath of half a century. Lord Morpeth, who was then in Washington,

and who occupied a seat in the floor of the House near Mr. Adams

during the entire debate, said that "he put one in mind of a fine

old game-cock, and occasionally showed great energy and power of

sarcasm."

Mr. Wise became the prosecutor of Mr. Adams, and asserted that both

he and his father were in alliance with Great Britain against the

South. Mr. Adams replied with great severity, his shrill voice

ringing through the hall. "Four or five years ago," said he, "there

came to this house a man with his hands and face dripping with the

blood of murder, the blotches of which are yet hanging upon him,

and when it was proposed that he should be tried by this House for

the crime I opposed it." After this allusion to the killing of

Mr. Cilley in a duel, Mr. Adams proceeded to castigate Mr. Wise

without mercy.

At the spring races, in 1842, over the Washington Course, Mr.

Stanly, of North Carolina, accidentally rode so close to the horse

of Mr. Wise as to jostle that gentleman, who gave him several blows

with a cane. Mr. Stanly at once sent a friend to Mr. Wise with an

invitation to meet him at Baltimore, that they might settle their

difficulty, and then left for that city. Mr. Wise remained in

Washington, where he was arrested the next day, under the anti-

dueling law, and placed under bonds to keep the peace. Mr. Stanly

remained at Baltimore for several days, expecting Mr. Wise. He

was the guest of Mr. Reverdy Johnson, under whose instruction he

practiced with dueling-pistols, firing at a mark. One morning Mr.

Johnson took a pistol himself and fired it, but the ball rebounded

and struck him in the left eye, completely destroying it. Mr.

Stanly returned the next day to Washington, where mutual friends

adjusted the difficulty between Mr. Wise and himself.

The vaulted arches of the old Supreme Court room in the basement

of the Capitol (now the Law Library) used to echo in those days

with the eloquence of Clay, Webster, Choate, Sargent, Binney,

Atherton, Kennedy, Berrien, Crittenden, Phelps, and other able

lawyers. Their Honors, the Justices, were rather a jovial sort,

especially Judge Story, who used to assert that every man should

laugh at least an hour during each day, and who had himself a great

fund of humorous anecdotes. One of them, that he loved to tell,

was of Jonathan Mason, of whom he always spoke in high praise. It

set forth that at the trial of a Methodist preacher for the alleged

murder of a young girl, the evidence was entirely circumstantial,

and there was a wide difference of opinion concerning his guilt.

One morning, just before the opening of the court, a brother preacher

stepped up to Mason and said: "Sir, I had a dream last night, in

which the angel Gabriel appeared and told me that the prisoner was

not guilty." "Ah!" replied Mason, "have him subpoenaed immediately."

Charles Dickens first visited Washington in 1842. He was then a

young man. The attentions showered upon the great progenitor of

Dick Swiveller turned his head. The most prominent men in the

country told him how they had ridden with him in the _Markis of

Granby_, with old Weller on the box and Samivel on the dickey; how

they had played cribbage with the Marchioness and quaffed the rosy

with Dick Swiveller; how they had known honest Tim Linkwater and

angelic Little Nell, ending with the welcome words of Sir John

Falstaff, "D'ye think we didn't know ye? We knew ye as well as

Him that made ye."

Mr. Webster gave a party on the night of January 26th, 1842, which

was the crowning entertainment of the season. Eight rooms of his

commodious house were thrown open to the guests, and were most

dazzlingly lighted. There had not been in two Administrations so

large and brilliant an assemblage of female beauty and political

rank. Among the more distinguished guests were the President, Lord

Morpeth, Mr. Fox, the British Minister, M. Bacourt, the French

Minister, Mr. Bodisco, the Russian Minister, and most of the

Diplomatic Corps attached to the several legations, besides several

Judges of the Supreme Court and many members of Congress. The

honorable Secretary received his numerous guests with that dignity

and courtesy which was characteristic of him, and seemed to be in

excellent spirits. There no dancing, not even music. There was,

however, plenty of lively conversation, promenades, eating of ices,

and sipping of rich wines, with the usual spice of flirtation.

President Tyler's last reception of the season of 1842, on the

night of the 15th of March, gathered one of the greatest crowds

ever assembled in the White House. There was every variety of the

American citizen _et citoyenne_ present--those of every form, shape,

length, breadth, complexion, and dress. There were old ladies

decked in the finery of their youthful days, and children in their

nurses' arms. "Boz" was the lion of the evening, and he stood like

Patience on a monument. He totally eclipsed Washington Irving,

who was then at Washington to receive his instructions as Minister

to Spain. The President's Cabinet, Foreign Ministers, some of the

Judges of the Supreme Court, a sprinkling of Senators, two or three

scores of Representatives, and fifteen hundred man, women, and

children, in every costume, and from every nook and corner of the

country, made up the remainder of the medley.

A children's fancy ball was given at the White House by President

Tyler, in honor of the birthday of his eldest granddaughter.

Dressed as a fairy, with gossamer wings, a diamond star on her

forehead, and a silver wand, she received her guests. Prominent

among the young people was the daughter of General Almonte, the

Mexican Minister, arrayed as an Aztec Princess. Master Schermerhorn,

of New York, was beautifully dressed as an Albanian boy, and Ada

Cutts, as a flower-girl, gave promise of the intelligence and beauty

which in later years led captive the "Little Giant" of the West.

The boys and girls of Henry A. Wise were present, the youngest in

the arms of its mother, and every State in the Union was

represented.

After old Baron Bodisco's marriage to the young and beautiful Miss

Williams, the Russian Legation at Georgetown became the scene of

brilliant weekly entertainments, given, it was asserted, by especial

direction of the Emperor Nicholas, who had a special allowance made

for table-money. At these entertainments there was dancing, an

excellent supper, and a room devoted to whist. Mr. Webster, Mr.

Clay, General Scott, and several of the Diplomatic Corps were

invariably to be seen handling "fifty-two pieces of printed

pasteboard," while the old Baron, though not a good player, as the

host of the evening, was accustomed to take a hand. One night he

sat down to play with those better acquainted with the game, and

he lost over a thousand dollars. At the supper-table he made the

following announcement, in a sad tone: "Ladies and gentlemens:

It is my disagreeable duty to make the announce that these receptions

must have an end, and to declare them at an end for the present,

because why? The fund for their expend, ladies and gentlemens, is

exhaust, and they must discontinue."

Ole Bull, the renowned violinist, then gave a concert at Washington,

which was largely and fashionably attended. In the midst of one

of his most exquisite performances, while every breath was suspended,

and every ear attentive to catch the sounds of his magical instrument,

the silence was suddenly broken and the harmony harshly interrupted

by the well-known voice of General Felix Grundy McConnell, a

Representative from the Talladega district of Alabama, shouting,

"None of your high-falutin, but give us Hail Columbia, and bear

hard on the treble!" "Turn him out," was shouted from every part

of the house, and the police force in attendance undertook to remove

him from the hall. "Mac," as he was called, was not only one of

the handsomest men in Congress, but one of the most athletic, and

it was a difficult task for the policemen to overpower him, although

they used their clubs. After he was carried from the hall, some

of his Congressional friends interfered, and secured his release.

The publication of verbatim reports of the proceedings of Congress

was systematically begun during Polk's Administration by John C.

Rives, in the _Congressional Globe_, established a few years

previously as an offshoot from the old Democratic organ. This

unquestionably had a disastrous effect upon the eloquence of

Congress, which no longer hung upon the accents of its leading

members, and rarely read what appeared in the report of the debates.

Imitating Demosthenes and Cicero, Chatham and Burke, Mirabeau and

Lamartine, the Congressmen of the first fifty years of the Republic

poured forth their breathing thoughts and burning words in polished

and elegant language, and were listened to by their colleagues and

by spectators so alive to the beauties of eloquence that they were

entitled to the appellation of assemblages of trained critics.

The publication of verbatim reports of the debates put an end to

this, for Senators and Representatives addressed their respective

constituents through the _Congressional Globe_.

[Facsimile]

Felix Grundy

FELIX GRUNDY was born in Berkeley County, Virginia (now West

Virginia), September 11th, 1777; was a Representative from Tennessee,

1811-1814; was United States Senator, 1829-1838; was Attorney-

General under President Van Buren, 1838-1840; was again elected

Senator in 1840, and died at Nashville, December 19th of the same

year.

CHAPTER XXIII.

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS.

John Tyler, who was fifty-one years of age when he took possession

of the Executive Mansion, was somewhat above the medium height,

and of slender figure, with long limbs and great activity of

movement. His thin auburn hair turned white during his term of

office, his nose was large and prominent, his eyes were of a bluish-

gray, his lips were thin, and his cheeks sunken. His manners were

those of the old school of Virginia gentlemen, and he was very

courteous to strangers. The ceremonious etiquette established at

the White House by Van Buren vanished, and the President lived

precisely as he had on his plantation, attended by his old family

slaves. He invariably invited visitors with whom he was acquainted,

or strangers who were introduced to him, to visit the family dining-

room and "take something" from a sideboard well garnished with

decanters of ardent spirits and wines, with a bowl of juleps in

the summer and of egg-nog in the winter. He thus expended nearly

all of his salary, and used to regret that it was not larger, that

he might entertain his guests more liberally.

One day President Tyler joked Mr. Wise about his little one-horse

carriage, which the President styled "a candle-box on wheels," to

which the Representative from the Accomac district retorted by

telling Mr. Tyler that he had been riding for a month in a second-

hand carriage purchased at the sale of the effects of Mr. Paulding,

the Secretary of the Navy under Mr. Van Buren, and having the

Paulding coat-of-arms emblazoned on the door-panels. The President

laughed at the sally, and gave orders at once to have the armorial

bearings of the Pauldings painted over. Economy also prompted the

purchase of some partly worn suits of livery at the sale of the

effects of a foreign Minister, and these were afterward worn by

the colored waiters in state dinners.

"Beau" Hickman, as he called himself, made his appearance at

Washington toward the close of the Tyler Administration. He was

of middle size, with long hair, and an inoffensive, cadaverous

countenance. It was his boast that he was born among the slashes

of Hanover County, Virginia, and he was to be seen lounging about

the hotels, fashionably, yet shabbily, dressed, generally wearing

soiled white kid gloves and a white cravat. It was considered the

proper thing to introduce strangers to the Beau, who thereupon

unblushingly demanded his initiation fee, and his impudence sometimes

secured him a generous sum. He was always ready to pilot his

victims to gambling-houses and other questionable resorts, and for

a quarter of a century he lived on the blackmail thus levied upon

strangers.

One of the most agreeable homes in Washington was that of Colonel

Benton, the veteran Senator from Missouri, whose accomplished and

graceful daughters had been thoroughly educated under his own

supervision. He was not willing, however, that one of them, Miss

Jessie, should receive the attentions of a young second lieutenant

in the corps of the Topographical Engineers, Mr. Fremont, and the

young couple, therefore, eloped and were married clandestinely.

The Colonel, although terribly angry at first, accepted the situation,

and his powerful support in Congress afterward enabled Mr. Fremont

to explore, under the patronage of the General Government, the vast

central regions beyond the Rocky Mountains, and to plant the national

flag on Wind River Peak, upward of thirteen thousand feet above

the Gulf of Mexico.

A very different wedding was that of Baron Alexander de Bodisco,

the Russian Minister Plenipotentiary, and Miss Harriet Williams,

a daughter of the chief clerk in the office of the Adjutant-General.

The Baron was nearly fifty years of age, with dyed hair, whiskers,

and moustache, and she a blonde schoolgirl of "sweet sixteen,"

celebrated for her clear complexion and robust beauty. The ceremony

was performed at her father's house on Georgetown Heights, and was

a regular May and December affair throughout. There were eight

groomsmen, six of whom were well advanced in life, and as many

bridesmaids, all of them young girls from fourteen to sixteen years

of age, wearing long dresses of white satin damask, donated by the

bridegroom. The question of precedence gave the Baron much trouble,

as he could not determine whether Mr. Fox, then the British Minister

and Dean of the Diplomatic Corps, or Senator Buchanan, who had been

Minister to Russia, should be the first groomsman. This important

question was settled by having the groomsmen and bridesmaids stand

in couples, four on either side of the bridegroom and bride. The

ceremony was witnessed at the bride's residence by a distinguished

company, and the bridal party then went in carriages to the Russian

Legation, where an elegant entertainment awaited them, and where

some of the many guests got gloriously drunk in drinking the health

of the happy couple.

Queen Victoria's diplomatic representative at Washington at that

time, the Honorable Henry Stephen Fox, was a son of General Fox,

of the British Army, who fought at the battle of Lexington in 1775,

and a nephew of the eminent statesman, Charles James Fox. He had

served in the British Diplomatic Corps for several years, and was

thoroughly acquainted with his duties, but he held the least possible

intercourse with the Department of State and rarely entered a

private house. He used to rise about three o'clock in the afternoon,

and take his morning walk on Pennsylvania Avenue an hour or two

later. Miss Seaton says that a gentleman on one occasion, meeting

him at dusk in the Capitol grounds, urged him to return with him

to dinner, to which Mr. Fox replied that "he would willingly do

so, but his people were waiting breakfast for him." On the occasion

of the funeral of a member of the Diplomatic Corps, turning to the

wife of the Spanish Minister, he said: "How very old we all look

by daylight!" it being the first time he had seen his colleagues

except by candle-light. He went to bed at daylight, after watering

his plants, of which he was passionately fond.

John Howard Payne visited Washington to solicit from President

Tyler a foreign consulate. He was then in the prime of life,

slightly built, and rather under the medium height. His finely

developed head was bald on the top, but the sides were covered with

light brown hair. His nose was large, his eyes were light blue,

and he wore a full beard, consisting of side-whiskers and a moustache,

which were always well-trimmed. He was scrupulously neat in his

dress, and usually wore a dark brown frock coat and a black vest,

while his neck was covered with a black satin scarf, which was

arranged in graceful folds across his breast. Despite his unpretending

manner and his plain attire, there was something about his appearance

which never failed to attract attention. His voice was low and

musical, and when conversing on any subject in which he was deeply

interested he spoke with a degree of earnestness that enchained

the attention and touched the hearts of his listeners. After much

solicitation by himself and his friends, he obtained the appointment

of United States Consul at Tunis, and left for his post, where he

died, his remains being finally brought to the Capital and buried

in Oak Hill Cemetery.

Among the curiosities of Washington about this time was the studio

of Messrs. Moore & Ward, in one of the committee-rooms at the

Capitol, where likenesses were taken--as the advertisement read--

"with the Daguerreotype, or Pencil of Nature." The "likenesses,

by diffused light, could be taken by them in any kind of weather

during the daytime, and sitters were not subjected to the slightest

inconvenience or unpleasant sensation." The new discovery gradually

supplanted the painting of miniatures on ivory in water-colors,

and the cutting of silhouettes from white paper, which were shown

on a black ground. Another novel invention was the electric, or,

as it was then called, the magnetic telegraph. Mr. Morse had a

model on exhibition at the Capitol, and the beaux and belles used

to hold brief conversations over the mysterious wire. At last the

House considered a bill appropriating twenty-five thousand dollars,

to be expended in a series of experiments with the new invention.

In the brief debate on the bill, Mr. Cave Johnson undertook to

ridicule the discovery by proposing that one-half of the proposed

appropriation be devoted to experiments with mesmerism, while Mr.

Houghton thought that Millerism (a religious craze then prevalent)

should be included in the benefits of the appropriation. To those

who thus ridiculed the telegraph it was a chimera, a visionary

dream like mesmerism, rather to be a matter of merriment than

seriously entertained. Men of character, men of erudition, men

who, in ordinary affairs, had foresight, were wholly unable to

forecast the future of the telegraph. Other motions disparaging

to the invention were made, such as propositions to appropriate

part of the sum to a telegraph to the moon. The majority of Congress

did not concur in this attempt to defeat the measure by ridicule,

and the bill was passed by the close vote of eighty-nine to eighty-

three. A change of three votes, however, would have consigned the

invention to oblivion. Another year witnessed the triumphant

success of the test of its practicability. The invention vindicated

its character as a substantial reality; it was no longer a chimera,

a visionary scheme to extort money from the public coffers. Mr.

Morse was no more subjected to the suspicion of lunacy, nor ridiculed

in the Halls of Congress, but he had to give large shares of its

profits to Amos Kendall and F. O. J. Smith before he could make

his discovery of practical value.

The New York _Tribune_ was first published during the Tyler

Administration by Horace Greeley, who had very successfully edited

the _Log Cabin_, a political newspaper, during the preceding

Presidential campaign. The _Tribune_, like the New York _Herald_

and _Sun_ was then sold at one cent a copy, and was necessarily

little more than a brief summary of the news of the day. But it

was the germ of what its editor lived to see it become--a great

newspaper. It soon had a good circulation at Washington, where

the eminently respectable _National Intelligencer_ and the ponderous

_Globe_ failed to satisfy the reading community.

Mr. Webster remained in the Cabinet until the spring of 1843, when

the evident determination of President Tyler to secure the annexation

of Texas made it very desirable that Webster should leave, so he

was "frozen out" by studied reserve and coldness. By remaining in

the Cabinet he had estranged many of his old political associates,

and Colonel Seaton, anxious to bring about a reconciliation, gave

one of his famous "stag" supper-parties, to which he invited a

large number of Senators and members of the House of Representatives.

The convivialities had just commenced when the dignified form of

Webster was seen entering the parlor, and as he advanced his big

eyes surveyed the company, recognizing, doubtless, some of those

who had become partially alienated from him. On the instant, up

sprang a distinguished Senator from one of the large Southern

States, who exclaimed: "Gentlemen, I have a sentiment to propose

--the health of our eminent citizen, the negotiator of the Ashburton

Treaty." The company enthusiastically responded. Webster instantly

replied: "I have also a sentiment for you,--The Senate of the

United States, without which the Ashburton Treaty would have been

nothing, and the negotiator of that treaty less than nothing."

The quickness and fitness of this at once banished every doubtful

or unfriendly feeling. The company clustered around the magnate,

whose sprightly and edifying conversation never failed to excite

admiration, and the remainder of the evening was spent in a manner

most agreeable to all.

Immediately after the resignation of Mr. Webster the Cabinet was

reconstructed, but a few months later the bursting of a cannon on

the war-steamer Princeton, while returning from a pleasure excursion

down the Potomac, killed Mr. Upshur, the newly appointed Secretary

of State, Mr. Gilmer, Secretary of the Navy, with six others, while

Colonel Benton narrowly escaped death and nine seamen were injured.

The President had intended to witness the discharge of the gun,

but was casually detained in the cabin, and so escaped harm. This

shocking catastrophe cast a gloom over Washington, and there was

a general attendance, irrespective of party, at the funeral of the

two Cabinet officers, who were buried from the White House.

One of those killed by the explosion on the Princeton was Mr.

Gardiner, a New York gentleman, whose ancestors were the owners of

Gardiner's Island, in Long Island Sound. His daughter Julia, a

young lady of fine presence, rare beauty, and varied accomplishments,

had for some time been the object of marked attention from President

Tyler, although he was in his fifty-fifth year and she but about

twenty. Soon after she was deprived of her father they were quietly

married in church at New York, and President Tyler brought his

young bride to the White House.

Mrs. Lydia Dickinson, wife of Daniel F. Dickinson, a Senator from

New York, was the recognized leader of Washington society during

the Administration of President Tyler. She was the daughter of

Dr. Knapp, and, when a school girl, fell in love with Dickinson,

then a smart young wool-dresser, and discerning his talents, urged

him to study law and to fit himself for a high political position

in life. She was gratified by his unexampled advancement, and when

he came here a United States Senator, she soon took a prominent

part in the social life of the metropolis.

[Facsimile]

CCushing

CALEB CUSHING was born at Salisbury, Massachusetts, January 7th,

1800; was a Representative in Congress from Massachusetts, 1835-

1843; was Commissioner to China, 1843-1845; served in the Mexican

War as Colonel and Brigadier-General, 1847-1848; was Attorney-

General of the United States under President Pierce, 1853-1857;

was counsel for the United States before the Geneva tribunal of

arbitration on the Alabama claims, 1871; was Minister to Spain,

1874-1877, and died at Newburyport, Massachusetts, January 2d, 1879.

CHAPTER XXIV.

HOW TEXAS BECAME A STATE.

President Tyler was encouraged in his desire to have Texas admitted

as a State of the Union by Henry A. Wise, his favorite adviser,

and by numerous holders of Texan war scrip and bonds. Before the

victims of the Princeton explosion were shrouded, Mr. Wise called

upon Mr. McDuffie, a member of the Senate, who represented Mr.

Calhoun's interests at Washington, and informed him that the

distinguished South Carolinian would be appointed Secretary of

State. Mr. Wise urged the Senator to write to Mr. Calhoun at once,

begging him not to decline the position should he be nominated and

confirmed. Mr. McDuffie did not ask Mr. Wise if he spoke by Mr.

Tyler's authority, but evidently believed that he was so authorized,

and promised to write to Mr. Calhoun by that afternoon's mail.

Mr. Wise then went to the Executive Mansion, where he found Mr.

Tyler in the breakfast room, much affected by the account of the

awful catastrophe of the previous day. Mr. Wise told him rather

abruptly that it was no time for grief, as there were vacancies in

the Cabinet to be filled, in order that urgent matters then under

his control might be disposed of. "What is to be done?" asked

President Tyler. Mr. Wise had an answer ready: "Your most important

work is the annexation of Texas, and the man for that work is John

C. Calhoun, as Secretary of State. Send for him at once."

"No, sir!" replied the President, rather coldly. "The annexation

of Texas is important, but Mr. Calhoun is not the man of my choice."

This was rather a damper on Mr. Wise, but he resolutely insisted

on Mr. Calhoun's appointment, and finally the President yielded.

The nomination was sent to the Senate and confirmed without

opposition. Mr. Calhoun came to Washington, and was soon installed

as Secretary of State. It took him only from February 28th to

April 12th to conclude the negotiation which placed the "Lone Star"

in the azure field of the ensign of the Republic. The treaty of

annexation was signed and sent to the Senate for ratification, but

after a protracted discussion it was rejected by a vote of sixteen

yeas to thirty-five nays. Stephen A. Douglas, who had just entered

Congress as one of the seven Representatives from Illinois, came

to the front at that time as the principal advocate for the remission

of a fine which had been imposed upon General Jackson by Judge Hall

at New Orleans twenty-five years before.

This was the first move made by Mr. Douglas in his canvass for the

Presidency, but he was soon prominent in that class of candidates

of whom Senator William Allen, of Ohio, said, "Sir! they are going

about the country like dry-goods drummers, exhibiting samples of

their wares." Always on the alert to make new friends and to retain

old ones, he was not only a vigorous hand-shaker, but he would

throw his arms fondly around a man, as if that man held the first

place in his heart. No statement was too chary of truth in its

composition, no partisan manoeuvre was too openly dishonest, no

political pathway was too dangerous, if it afforded an opportunity

for making a point for Douglas. He was industrious and sagacious,

clothing his brilliant ideas in energetic and emphatic language,

and standing like a lion at bay when opposed. He had a herculean

frame, with the exception of his lower limbs, which were short and

small, dwarfing what otherwise would have been a conspicuous figure,

and he was popularly known as "the Little Giant." His large, round

head surmounted a massive neck, and his features were symmetrical,

although his small nose deprived them of dignity. His dark eyes,

peering from beneath projecting brows, gleamed with energy, mixed

with an expression of slyness and sagacity, and his full lips were

generally stained at the corners of his mouth with tobacco juice.

His voice was neither musical nor soft, and his gestures were not

graceful. But he would speak for hours in clear, well-enunciated

tones, and the sharp Illinois attorney soon developed into the

statesman at Washington.

The House of Representatives, at that period, could boast of more

ability than the Senate. Among the most prominent members were

the accomplished Robert C. Winthrop, who so well sustained the

reputation of his distinguished ancestors; Hamilton Fish, the

representative Knickerbocker from the State of New York; Alexander

Ramsey, a worthy descendant of the Pennsylvania Dutchmen; the

loquacious Garrett Davis, of Kentucky; the emaciated Alexander H.

Stephens of Georgia, who apparently had not a month to live, yet

who rivaled Talleyrand in political intrigue; John Wentworth, a

tall son of New Hampshire, transplanted to the prairies of Illinois;

Andrew Johnson, of Tennessee, a born demagogue and self-constituted

champion of the people; John Slidell, of New Orleans; Robert Dale

Owen, the visionary communist from Indiana; Howell Cobb, of Georgia,

and Jacob Thompson, of Mississippi, who were busily laying the

foundations for the Southern Confederacy, "with slavery as its

corner-stone;" the brilliant Robert C. Schenck, of Ohio, and the

genial Isaac E. Holmes, of South Carolina, who softened the asperities

of debate by many kindly comments made in an undertone.

One of General Schenck's stories was told by him to illustrate the

"change of base" by those Whigs who had enlisted in the Tyler guard,

yet declared that they had not shifted their position. "Many years

previous," he said, "when silk goods were scarce and dear, an old

lady in Ohio purchased a pair of black silk stockings. Being very

proud of this addition to her dress, she wore them frequently until

they became quite worn out; as often, however, as a hole appeared

in these choice articles, she very carefully darned it up; but for

this purpose, having no silk, she was obliged to use white yarn.

She usually appropriated Saturday evenings to this exercise.

Finally, she had darned them so much that not a single particle of

the original material or color remained. Yet such was the force

of habit with her that as often as Saturday evening came she would

say to her granddaughter, 'Anny, bring me my black silk stockings.'"

The Presidential campaign of 1844 was very exciting. Mr. Van

Buren's friends did not entertain a shade of a doubt that he would

be nominated, and his opponents in the Democratic ranks had almost

lost hope of defeating him in the nominating convention, when, at

the suggestion of Mr. Calhoun, he was adroitly questioned on the

annexation of Texas in a letter written to him by Mr. Hamett, a

Representative from Mississippi. Mr. Van Buren was too sagacious

a politician not to discover the pit thus dug for him, and he

replied with great caution, avowing himself in favor of the annexation

of Texas when it could be brought about peacefully and honorably,

but against it at that time, when it would certainly be followed

by war with Mexico. This was what the Southern conspirators wanted,

and their subsequent action was thus narrated in a letter written

a few years afterward by John Tyler, which is here published for

the first time:

"Texas," wrote Mr. Tyler, "was the great theme that occupied me.

The delegates to the Democratic Convention, or a very large majority

of them, had been elected under implied pledges to sustain Van

Buren. After his letter repudiating annexation, a revulsion had

become obvious, but how far it was to operate it was not possible

to say. A majority of the delegates at least were believed still

to remain in his favor. If he was nominated the game to be played

for Texas was all over. What was to be done?

"My friends," Mr. Tyler went on to say, "advised me to remain at

rest, and take my chances in the Democratic Convention. It was

impossible to do so. If I suffered my name to be used in that

Convention, then I became bound to sustain the nomination, even if

Mr. Van Buren was the nominee. This could not be. I chose to run

no hazard, but to raise the banner of Texas, and convoke my friends

to sustain it. This was but a few weeks before the meeting of the

Convention. To my surprise, the notice which was thus issued

brought together a thousand delegates, and from every State in the

Union. Many called on me on their way to Baltimore to receive my

views. My instructions were, 'Go to Baltimore, make your nomination,

then go home, and leave the thing to work its own results.' I said

no more, and was obeyed. The Democratic Convention felt the move.

A Texan man or defeat was the choice left, and they took a Texan

man. My withdrawal at a suitable time took place, and the result

was soon before the world. I acted to insure the success of a

great measure, and I acted not altogether without effect. In so

doing I kept my own secrets; to have divulged my purposes would

have been to have defeated them."

The National Whig Convention assembled at Baltimore, and Henry Clay

was nominated with great enthusiasm, ex-Senator Theodore Frelinghuysen,

of New Jersey, being nominated as Vice-President. The next day a

hundred thousand Whigs, from every section of the Republic, met in

mass convention at Baltimore, with music, banners, and badges, to

ratify the ticket. Mr. Webster, with true magnanimity, was one of

the speakers, and advocated the election of Clay and Frelinghuysen

with all the strength of his eloquence. The Whigs were jubilant

when their chosen leader again took the field, and the truants

flocked back to the standard which they had deserted to support

John Tyler. Harmony once more prevailed among the leaders and in

the ranks, and the Whig party was again in good working order.

Three weeks later the National Democratic Convention met in Baltimore

and remained in session three days. A majority of the delegates

advocated the nomination of ex-President Van Buren, but he was

defeated by permitting his opponents to pass the two-thirds rule,

and on the third day James K. Polk was nominated. Silas Wright

was nominated as Vice-President, but he positively declined, saying

to his friends that he did not propose to ride behind on the black

pony [slavery] at the funeral of his slaughtered friend, Mr. Van

Buren. Mr. George M. Dallas, of Pennsylvania, was then nominated.

Governor Fairfield, of Maine, on his return from Philadelphia on

the first of June, 1844, whither he had gone as Chairman of a

Committee of the Democratic Convention to inform Mr. Dallas of his

nomination as Vice-President, gave an amusing account of the scene.

The Committee reached Philadelphia about three o'clock in the

morning, and were piloted to Mr. Dallas' house by his friend,

Senator Robert J. Walker. Loud knocks at the door brought Mr.

Dallas to his chamber window. Recognizing Mr. Walker, and fearing

that his daughter, who was in Washington, was ill, he hastened down-

stairs, half dressed and in slippers, when, to his utter amazement,

in walked sixty or more gentlemen, two by two, with the tread of

soldiers, passing him by and entering his front parlor, all

maintaining the most absolute silence. Mr. Dallas, not having the

slightest conception of their object, stood thunderstruck at the

scene. Mr. Walker then led him into the back parlor. "My dear

Walker," said he, in amazement, "what is the matter?" "Wait, one

moment, if you please, Dallas, wait one moment, if you please."

In a few moments the folding-doors connecting the parlors were

thrown back, and in the front parlor (which had meanwhile been

lighted up) Mr. Dallas saw a semi-circle of gentlemen, who greeted

him with applause. Governor Fairfield then stepped forward, and

briefly informed Mr. Dallas what the action of the convention had

been. The candidate for Vice-President, who had recovered from

his momentary surprise, eloquently acknowledged the compliment paid

him, and promised to more formally reply by letter. He then opened

his sideboard, and all joined in pledging "success to the ticket."

Mr. Clay unfortunately wrote a Texas letter, which fell like a wet

blanket upon the Whigs, and enabled the Democratic managers to

deprive him of the vote of New York by organizing the Liberty party,

which nominated James G. Birney, of Michigan, as President, and

Thomas Morris, of Ohio, as Vice-President. This nomination received

the support of the anti-slavery men, of many disappointed adherents

of Mr. Van Buren, and of the anti-Masonic and anti-rent factions

of the Whig party of New York. The consequence was that over sixty

thousand votes were thrown away on Birney, nine-tenths of them

being drawn from the Whig ranks, thus securing a complete triumph

for the Democrats.

At the "birthnight ball," on the 22d of February, 1845, President

Tyler was accompanied by President-elect Polk. Mrs. Madison also

was present with Mrs. Alexander Hamilton, and the members of the

Diplomatic Corps wore their court uniforms. A few nights afterward

President Tyler gave a "parting ball" at the White House, his young

and handsome wife receiving the guests with distinguished grace.

Mr. Polk was prevented from attending by the indisposition of his

wife, but the Vice-President-elect, Mr. Dallas, with his splendid

crown of white hair, towered above all other guests except General

Scott and "Long John" Wentworth. There was dancing in the East

Room, Mrs. Tyler leading off in the first set of quadrilles with

Mr. Wilkins, the Secretary of War, as her partner. This entertainment

concluded the "Cavalier" reign within the White House, which was

soon ruled with Puritan austerity by Mr. Polk.

Near the close of the session of Congress with which the Administration

of John Tyler terminated, a joint resolution legislating Texas into

the Union was introduced. When it had been passed by the House

after determined resistance, it was discussed, amended, and passed

by the Senate. It reached the President on the 2d of March, received

his immediate approval, and the next day a messenger was started

for Texas, to have it accepted, and thus secure annexation.

On the morning of the 4th of March, 1845, Mr. Tyler left the White

House, not caring to assist in the inauguration of his successor.

As the Potomac steamer was about to swing away from the wharf,

which was crowded with people who were glad to see the ex-President

depart, he came along with his family, a squadron of colored

servants, and a great lot of luggage. As they alighted from their

carriages at the head of the wharf the whistle sounded, the boat's

bell rang, and she began slowly to move away. Some one in the

crowd sang out, "Hello! hello! Captain, hold on there, ex-President

Tyler is coming. Hold on!" The captain, an old Clay Whig, standing

near the stern of the boat on the upper deck, looked over the rail,

saw the Presidential crowd coming, but pulled his engine bell

violently and shouted, "Ex-President Tyler be dashed! let him stay!"

This scene was lithographed and copies hung for years in many of

the saloons and public houses of Washington.

[Facsimile]

S. A. Douglas

STEPHEN ARNOLD DOUGLAS was born at Brandon, Vermont, April 23d,

1813; was a Representative in Congress from Illinois, 1843-1847;

was United States Senator from 1847 until his death at Chicago,

June 3d, 1861.

CHAPTER XXV.

RESTORATION OF THE DEMOCRATS.

James Knox Polk was inaugurated as the eleventh President of the

United States on the 4th of March, 1845, a rainy, unpleasant day.

Had any method of contesting a Presidential election been provided

by the Constitution or the laws, the fraudulent means by which his

election was secured, would have been brought forward to prevent

his taking his seat. But the Constitution had made no such provision,

and Congress had not been disposed to interfere; so Mr. Polk was

duly inaugurated with great pomp, under the direction of the dominant

party. A prominent place was assigned in the inaugural procession

for the Democratic associations of Washington and other cities.

The pugilistic Empire Club from New York, led by Captain Isaiah

Rynders, had with it a small cannon, which was fired at short

intervals as the procession advanced.

The Chief Marshal of the procession having issued orders that no

carriages should enter the Capitol grounds, the diplomats were

forced to alight at a side gate in the rain, and to walk through

the mud to the Senate entrance, damaging their feathered chapeaux

and their embroidered uniforms, to their great displeasure.

Conspicuous in the group around the President was Vice-President

Dallas, tall, erect, and dignified, with long, snow-white hair

falling over his shoulders. The President-elect read his inaugural,

which few heard, and when he had concluded Chief Justice Taney

administered the oath of office. As Mr. Polk reverentially kissed

the Bible, the customary salutes boomed forth at the Navy Yard and

at the Arsenal. The new President was then escorted to the White

House, the rain having made Pennsylvania Avenue so slippery with

mud that not a few of the soldiers fell ingloriously on the march.

The cry, "Who is James K. Polk?" raised by the Whigs when he was

nominated, was unwarranted, for he was not an unknown man. He had

been a member of the House from 1825 to 1839, Speaker from 1835 to

1837, and chairman of the Committee of Ways and Means during a

portion of his membership. He had been a Jackson leader in the

House, and as such he had manifested not only zeal and skill as a

party manager, but also substantial qualities of a respectable

order. It seems certain that Polk was selected by the Southern

Democracy some time before the Convention met in 1844, and that he

was heartily in sympathy with the movement for conquering a portion

of Mexico to be made into slave States. Polk entered heartily into

this business, and worked harmoniously with the instigators of

conquest, except that he became self-willed when his vanity was

touched.

President Polk was a spare man, of unpretending appearance and

middle stature, with a rather small head, a full, angular brow,

penetrating dark gray eyes, and a firm mouth. His hair, which he

wore long and brushed back behind his ears, was touched with silver

when he entered the White House and was gray when he left it. He

was a worthy and well-qualified member of the fraternity of the

Freemasons, and a believer in the creed of the Methodists, although,

out of deference to the religious opinions of his wife, he attended

worship with her at the First Presbyterian Church. Calm, cold,

and intrepid in his moral character, he was ignorant of the beauty

of moral uprightness in the conduct of public affairs, but was

ambitious of power and successful in the pursuit of it. He was

very methodical and remarkably industrious, always finding time to

listen patiently to the stories of those who came to him as

petitioners for patronage and place. But his arduous labors impaired

his health and doubtless shortened his life. Before his term of

office had half expired his friends were pained to witness his

shortened and enfeebled step, and the air of languor and exhaustion

which sat upon him.

There were two inauguration balls in honor of the new President's

accession to power--one at ten dollars a ticket, and the other at

two dollars. The ten-dollar ball was at Carusi's saloon, and was

attended by the leaders of Washington society, the Diplomatic Corps,

and many officers of the Army and Navy. Madame de Bodisco, wife

of the Russian Minister, in a superb court dress, which she had

worn while on her bridal visit to St. Petersburg, attracted much

attention and contrasted strongly with Mrs. Polk, whose attire was

very plain. The ball at the National Theatre was more democratic,

and was attended by an immense crowd, whose fight for the supper

was emblematical of the rush and scramble about to be made for the

loaves and fishes of office. When the guests began to depart, it

was found that the best hats, cloaks, and canes had been taken

early in the evening, and there was great grumbling. Commodore

Elliot had his pocket picked at the White House on inauguration

day, the thief depriving him of his wallet, which contained several

valued relics. One was a letter from General Jackson, congratulating

him on his restoration to his position in the service, and containing

a lock of "Old Hickory's" hair; another was a letter from Mrs.

Madison, inclosing a lock of Mr. Madison's hair.

Mrs. Polk was a strict Presbyterian, and she shunned what she

regarded as "the vanities of the world" whenever it was possible

for her to do so. She did not possess the queenly grace of Mrs.

Madison or the warm-hearted hospitality of Mrs. Tyler, but she

presided over the White House with great dignity. She was of medium

height and size, with very black hair, dark eyes and complexion,

and formal yet graceful deportment. At the inauguration of her

husband she wore a black silk dress, a long black velvet cloak with

a deep cape, trimmed with fringe and tassels, and a purple velvet

bonnet, trimmed with satin ribbon. Her usual style of dress was

rich, but not showy.

Mrs. Polk would not permit dancing at the White House, but she did

all in her power to render the Administration popular. One morning

a lady found her reading. "I have many books presented to me by

their writers," said she, "and I try to read them all; at present

this is not possible; but this evening the author of this book

dines with the President, and I could not be so unkind as to appeared

wholly ignorant and unmindful of his gift." At one of her evening

receptions a gentleman remarked, "Madame, you have a very genteel

assemblage to-night." "Sir," replied Mrs. Polk, with perfect good

humor, but very significantly, "I have never seen it otherwise."

Mr. James Buchanan, the newly appointed Secretary of State, was at

this time in the prime of life, and his stalwart frame, fair

complexion, light blue eyes, courtly manners, and scrupulously neat

attire prompted an English visitor, Mrs. Maury, to say that he

resembled a British nobleman of the past generation, when the grave

and dignified bearing of men of power was regarded as an essential

attribute of their office. Although a bachelor, he kept house on

F Street next to the abode of John Quincy Adams, where his accomplished

niece presided at his hospitable board. He faithfully carried out

the foreign policy of President Polk, but never let pass an

opportunity for advancing, with refreshing humility, his own claims

to the succession. In a letter written to a friend he alluded to

a prediction that he would be the next President, and went on to

say: "I or any other man may disappear from the political arena

without producing a ripple upon the surface of the deep and strong

current which is sweeping the country to its destiny. Nothing has

prevented me from removing myself from the list of future candidates

for the Presidency, except the injury this might do to the Democratic

cause in Pennsylvania. On this subject I am resolved, and whenever

it may be proper I shall make known my resolution. Nothing on

earth could induce me again to accept a Cabinet appointment." Yet

never did a wily politician more industriously plot and plan to

secure a nomination than Mr. Buchanan did, in his still-hunt for

the Presidency.

William Learned Marcy, the Secretary of War, was the "wheel-horse"

of President Polk's Cabinet. Heavily built, rather sluggish in

his movements, and always absorbed with some subject, he was not

what is generally termed "companionable," and neither bores nor

office-seekers regarded him as an amiable man. He used to write

his most important dispatches in the library of his own house.

When thus engaged he would at once, after breakfast, begin his work

and write till nearly noon, when he would go to the Department,

receive calls, and attend to the regular routine duties of his

position. During hours of composition he was so completely engrossed

with the subject that persons might enter, go out, or talk in the

same room without in the least obtaining his notice. He usually

sat in his dressing-gown, with an old red handkerchief on the table

before him, and one could judge of the relative activity of his

mind by the frequency of his application to the snuff-box. In

truth, he was an inveterate snuff-taker, and his immoderate

consumption of that article appeared to have injuriously affected

his voice.

President Polk, anxious to placate his defeated rival, Mr. Van

Buren, tendered the appointment of Secretary of the Treasury to

Silas Wright. He declined it, having been elected Governor of the

State of New York, but recommended for the position Mr. A. C. Flagg.

Governor Marcy objected to the appointment of Mr. Flagg, then to

the appointment of Mr. George Bancroft, the historian, and finally

accepted himself the place of Secretary of War. Mr. Robert J.

Walker, a Pennsylvanian by birth and a Mississippian by adoption,

who had in the United States Senate advocated the admission of

Texas and opposed the protection of American industries by a high

tariff, was made Secretary of the Treasury. Mr. George Bancroft

was appointed Secretary of the Navy, and Cave Johnson, of Tennessee,

Postmaster-General.

Mr. John Y. Mason, who had been the Secretary of the Navy in Tyler's

Cabinet, was retained by Polk as his Attorney-General, having made

earnest appeals that he might not be disturbed. He wrote to an

influential friend at Washington that he desired to remain in office

on account of his financial wants. "Imprudence amounting to

infatuation," he went on to say, "while in Congress, embarrassed

me, and I am barely recovering from it. The place is congenial to

my feelings, and the salary will assist Virginia land and negroes

in educating six daughters. Although I still own a large estate,

and am perfectly temperate in my habits, I have felt that the folly

of my conduct in another respect may have led to the report that

I was a sot--an unfounded rumor, which originated with a Richmond

paper." Governor Marcy used to joke Mr. Mason a good deal on the

forwardness of the Old Dominion, the mother of Presidents, in urging

the claims of her children for Federal office--a propensity which

was amusingly illustrated at a private dinner where they were both

in attendance. "How strange it is, Mason," said he, "that out of

the thousands of fat appointments we have had to make, there is

not one that Virginia does not furnish a candidate for, and that

every candidate is backed up by the strongest testimonials that he

was expressly educated for that particular post!" Mason bore the

joke very well, contenting himself with the observation that the

people of the United States seemed to know where to look for great

men.

Mr. Polk had been elected President on the platform of "the whole

of Oregon or none" and "54 deg. 40', or fight." But Mr. McLean, who

was sent to England, negotiated a treaty fixing the boundary at 49 deg.,

and "54 deg. 40'" was abandoned without the promised fight. Another

troublesome legacy inherited by John Tyler was not so easily

arranged, and the Mexican War was inaugurated. To the more

intelligent portion of the Northern Whigs the contest was repulsive,

and the manner in which it was used for the advancement of Democratic

politicians was revolting. But few forgot their allegiance to this

country in the face of the enemy. Congress, repeatedly appealed

to by the President, voted men and money without stint to secure

the national success and to maintain the national honor. Whig

States which, like Massachusetts, had no sympathy for the war,

contributed the bravest of their sons, many of whom, like a son of

Daniel Webster, fell victims to Mexican malaria or Mexican bullets.

While President Polk endeavored to gratify each of the component

factions of the Democratic party in the composition of his Cabinet,

he ruthlessly deposed the veteran Francis P. Blair from the editorship

of the _Globe_ to gratify the chivalry of South Carolina, who made

it the condition upon which he could receive the electoral vote of

their State, then in the hands of the General Assembly, and controlled

by the politicians. Blair & Rives had loaned ten thousand dollars

to General Jackson, who was very indignant when he learned that

his old friends were to be shelved, but the Nullifiers were

inexorable. The _Globe_ ceased to be the editorial organ of the

Administration, and "Father Ritchie," who had for many years edited

the Richmond _Inquirer_, was invited to Washington, where he

established the _Union_, which became the mouthpiece of President

Polk. "The _Globe_," says Colonel Benton, "was sold and was paid

for; it was paid for out of public money--the same fifty thousand

dollars which were removed to the village bank at Middletown, in

the interior of Pennsylvania. Three annual installments made the

payment, and the Treasury did not reclaim the money for three

years."

The first congressional assembly attended by President Polk was

graced by the presence of General Felix Grundy McConnell, of Alabama,

who appeared arrayed in a blue swallow-tailed coat, light cassimere

pantaloons, and a scarlet waistcoat. His female acquaintances at

Washington not being very numerous, he had invited to accompany

him two good-looking French milliner girls from a shop in the lower

story of the house in which he boarded. The young women were

dressed as near to the Parisian style of ball dress as their means

would permit, and the trio attracted much attention as they promenaded

the hall. When the President arrived, the General marched directly

to him, and exclaimed in his stentorian voice: "Mr. Polk, allow

me the honor of introducing to you my beautiful young friend,

Mamselle--Mamselle--Mamselle--_parley vous Francais_--whose name

I have forgotten!" Then, turning to the other lady, he asked,

"Will you introduce your friend?" The President, seeing General

Mac's embarrassment, relived him by shaking hands cordially with

each of the young ladies.

[Facsimile]

James K. Polk

JAMES KNOX POLK was born in Mecklenburg County, North Carolina,

November 2d, 1795; was a Representative in Congress from Tennessee,

1825-1839; was Governor of Tennessee, 1839; was President of the

United States, 1845-1849, and died at Nashville, Tennessee, June

15th, 1849.

CHAPTER XXVI.

DEATH OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

The metropolis was not very gay during the latter portion of Mr.

Polk's Administration. There were the usual receptions at the

White House, and at several of the foreign legations the allowance

of "table money" was judiciously expended, but there were not many

large evening parties or balls. One notable social event was the

marriage of Colonel Benton's daughter Sarah to Mr. Jacob, of

Louisville. The bridegroom's family was related to the Taylors

and the Clays, so Henry Clay, who had been re-elected to the Senate,

was present, and escorted the bride to the supper-table. There

was a large attendance of Congressmen, diplomats, and officials,

but the absence of officers of the army and navy, generally so

prominent at a Washington entertainment, was noticeable. They were

in Mexico.

Another interesting entertainment was given by Colonel Seaton, at

his mansion on E Street, to the Whig members of Congress and the

journalists. The first homage of nearly all, as they entered, was

paid to John Quincy Adams, who sat upon a sofa, his form slightly

bowed by time, his eyes weeping, and a calm seriousness in his

expression. Daniel Webster was not present, having that day received

intelligence of the death of his son Edward, who was major of a

Massachusetts regiment, and died in Mexico of camp-fever. Henry

Clay, however, was there, with kind words and pleasant smiles for

all his friends. Crittenden, Corwin, and other Whig Senatorial

paladins were present, and Mr. Speaker Winthrop, that perfect

gentleman and able presiding officer, headed a host of talented

Representatives. Commodore Stockton and General Jones represented

the Army and Navy, while Erastus Brooks and Charles Lanman appeared

for the press. There was a sumptuous collation, with much drinking

of healths and many pledges to the success of the Whig cause.

The reunion at Colonel Seaton's was on Friday night, February 18th,

1848. The following Sunday John Quincy Adams attended public

worship at the Capitol, and on Monday, the 21st, he was, as usual,

in his seat when the House was called to order. During the

preliminary business he was engaged in copying a poetical invocation

to the muse of history for one of the officials, and he appeared

to be in ordinarily good health. A resolve of thanks to the generals

of the Mexican War came up, and the clerk had read, "Resolved by

the House that"--when he was arrested by the cry of "Look to Mr.

Adams!" Mr. David Fisher, of Ohio, who occupied the desk on Mr.

Adams' right, saw him rise as if he intended to speak; then clutch

his desk with a convulsive effort, and sink back into his chair.

Mr. Fisher caught him in his arms, and in an instant Dr. Fries and

Dr. Nes, both members, were at his side.

It was a solemn moment, for a cry went from more than one, "Mr.

Adams is dying!" It was thought that, like Pitt, he would give up

the ghost "with harness on," on the spot which his eloquence had

hallowed. "Stand back!" "Give him air!" "Remove him!" Every

one seemed panic-stricken except Mr. Speaker Winthrop, who quietly

adjourned the House, and had his insensible colleague removed on

a sofa--first into the rotunda, and then into the Speaker's room.

Cupping, mustard poultices, and friction were resorted to, and

about an hour after his attack Mr. Adams said, "This is the last

of earth, but I am content." He then fell into a deep slumber,

from which he never awoke. Mrs. Adams and other relatives were

with him, and among the visitors was Henry Clay, who stood for some

time with the old patriarch's hand clasped in his, and gazed intently

on the calm but vacant countenance, his own eyes filled with tears.

Mr. Adams lingered until the evening of the 23d of February, when

he breathed his last. The funeral services were very imposing,

and a committee of one from each State accompanied the remains to

Boston, where they lay in state at Faneuil Hall, and were then

taken to Quincy for interment. The Committee returned to Washington

enthusiastic over the hospitalities extended to them while they

were in Massachusetts.

Abraham Lincoln was a member of the last Congress during the Polk

Administration. He made no mark as a legislator, but he established

his reputation as a story-teller, and he was to be found every

morning in the post-office of the House charming a small audience

with his quaint anecdotes. Among other incidents of his own life

which he used to narrate was his military service in the Black Hawk

War, when he was a captain of volunteers. He was mustered into

service by Jefferson Davis, then a lieutenant of dragoons, stationed

at Fort Dixon, which was near the present town of Dixon, Illinois,

and was under the command of Colonel Zachary Taylor. Mr. Lincoln

served only one term, and before its expiration he began to take

steps for appointment as Commissioner of the General Land-office,

two years afterward, should the Whigs then come into power. A

number of prominent Whig Senators and Representatives indorsed his

application, but he was not successful.

Jefferson Davis was a Representative from Mississippi until he

resigned to accept the command of a regiment of riflemen, with

which he rendered gallant services at Buena Vista, under his father-

in-law, General Taylor, with whom he was not at that time on speaking

terms. In appearance his erect bearing recalled his service as an

officer of dragoons, while his square shoulders and muscular frame

gave proof of a training at West Point. His high forehead was

shaded by masses of dark hair, in which the silvery threads began

to show; his eyes were a bluish-gray, his cheekbones prominent,

his nose aquiline, and he had a large, expressive mouth. He was

an ardent supporter of State sovereignty and Southern rights, and

he was very severe on those Congressmen from the slave-holding

States, who were advocates of the Union, especially Mr. A. H.

Stephens, whom he denounced as "the little pale star from Georgia."

The Democratic National Convention met at Baltimore on the 22d of

May, 1848. There was a prolonged contest over the rival claims of

delegates from New York, terminated by the admission of the "hards."

General James M. Commander, the solitary delegate from South

Carolina, was authorized to cast the nine votes of that State.

The two-thirds rule was adopted, and on the fourth day of the

convention, Lewis Cass, of Michigan, was nominated on the fourth

ballot, defeating James Buchanan and Levi Woodbury. Having nominated

a Northern candidate, a Southern platform was adopted, which covered

the entire ground of non-interference with the rights of slave-

holders, either in the States or Territories.

General Cass was then in the sixty-sixth year of his age, and had

passed forty years in the public service. His knowledge was ample

but not profound. He was ignorant on no subject, and was deeply

versed on none. The world to him was but a playhouse, and that

drama with him was best which was best performed.

When the Whig National Convention met at Philadelphia, on the 7th

of June, there was a bitter feeling between the respective friends

of Webster and Clay, but they were all doomed to disappointment.

The Northern delegates to the Whig National Convention might have

nominated either Webster, Clay, Scott, or Corwin, as they had a

majority of fifty-six over the delegates from the Southern States,

and cast twenty-nine votes more than was necessary to choose a

candidate. But they refused to unite on any one, and on the fourth

ballot sixty-nine of them voted with the Southern Whigs and secured

the nomination of Zachary Taylor. While the friends of Mr. Clay

made a desperate rally in his behalf, knowing that it was his last

chance, some of those who had smarted under the lash which he

wielded so unsparingly in the Senate rejoiced over his defeat.

"Thank Providence!" exclaimed ex-Senator Archer, of Virginia, "we

have got rid of the old tyrant at last."

As the Whig National Convention had adjourned without passing a

single declaration of the party's principles, General Taylor's

letter of acceptance was awaited with intense interest. It was

believed that he would outline some policy which would be accepted

and which would unite the Whig party. A month elapsed, and no

letter of acceptance was received by Governor Morehead, who had

presided over the Convention, but the Postmaster at Baton Rouge,

where General Taylor lived, addressed the Postmaster-General a

letter, saying that with the report for the current quarter from

that office, two bundles of letters were forwarded for the Dead-

Letter Office, they having been declined on account of the non-

payment of the postage by the senders. It was in the ten-cent and

non-prepayment time. Of the forty-eight letters thus forwarded to

the Dead-Letter Office, the Baton Rouge Postmaster said a majority

were addressed to General Taylor, who had declined to pay the

postage on them and take them out of the office, because his mail

expenses had become burdensome. The General had since become aware

that some of the letters were of importance, and asked for their

return. In due course, the letters were sent back to Baton Rouge,

and among them was Governor Morehead's letter notifying the General

of the action of the Philadelphia Convention.

General Taylor's letter of acceptance was thus dated a month and

five days after the letter of notification had been written. It

was "short and sweet." He expressed his thanks for the nomination,

said he did not seek it, and that he were elected President, for

which position he did not think he possessed the requisite

qualifications, he would do his best. He discussed nothing, laid

down no principles, and gave no indications of the course he would

pursue. Thurlow Weed was not satisfied with this letter, and sent

the draft of another one, more explicit, and indorsed by Mr.

Fillmore. This General Taylor had copied, and signed it as a letter

addressed to his kinsman, Captain Allison. In it he pledged himself

fully to Whig principles, and it was made the basis of an effective

campaign.

Mr. Webster, who at first denounced the nomination as one "not fit

to be made," was induced, by the payment of a considerable sum of

money, to make a speech in favor of the ticket. Nathaniel P. Willis

wrote a stirring campaign song, and at the request of Thurlow Weed,

the writer of these reminiscences wrote a campaign life of the

General, large editions of which were published at Boston and at

Albany for gratuitous distribution. It ignored the General's views

on the anti-slavery question. Meanwhile, the Massachusetts

Abolitionists and ultra-Webster men, with the Barn-burner wing of

the Democratic party in New York, and several other disaffected

factions, met in convention at Buffalo. They there nominated Martin

Van Buren for President and Mr. Charles Francis Adams for Vice-

President, and adopted as a motto, "Free Speech, Free Soil, Free

Labor, and Free Men." This party attracted enough votes from the

Democratic ticket in the State of New York to secure the triumph

of the Whigs, and Martin Van Buren, who had been defeated by the

Southern Democrats, had in return the satisfaction of effecting

their defeat.

Mr. Calhoun, soured by his successive failures, but not instructed

by them, sought revenge. "The last days of Mr. Polk's Administration,"

says Colonel Benton, "were witness to an ominous movement, nothing

less than nightly meetings of large numbers of members from the

slave States to consider the state of things between the North and

the South, to show the aggressions and encroachments (as they were

called) of the former upon the latter, to show the incompatibility

of their union, and to devise measures for the defense and protection

of the South."

[Facsimile]

H. S. Foote

HENRY STUART FOOTE was born in Fauquier County, Virginia, September

20th, 1800; commenced the practice of law at Tuscumbia, Alabama,

and removed to Mississippi; was United States Senator, 1847-1852;

was Governor of Mississippi, 1852-1854, and died May 29th, 1880.

CHAPTER XXVII.

MAKING THE MOST OF POWER.

General Zachary Taylor was, of all who have filled the Presidential

chair by the choice of the people, the man least competent to

perform its duties. He had been placed before his countrymen as

a candidate in spite of his repeated avowals of incapacity,

inexperience, and repugnance to all civil duties. Although sixty-

four years of age, he had never exercised the right of suffrage,

and he was well aware that he was elected solely because of his

military prowess. But no sooner did he learn that he had been

chosen President than he displayed the same invincible courage,

practical sense, and indomitable energy in the discharge of his

new and arduous civil duties which had characterized his military

career.

The President-elect was fortunate in having as a companion, counselor,

and friend Colonel William Wallace Bliss, who had served as his

chief of staff in the Mexican campaign, and who became the husband

of his favorite daughter, Miss Betty. Colonel Bliss was the son

of Captain Bliss, of the regular army, and after having been reared

in the State of New York he was graduated at West Point, where he

served afterward as acting professor of mathematics.

On his way to Washington from his Louisiana plantation, General

Taylor visited Frankfort, and personally invited Mr. John J.

Crittenden, then Governor of Kentucky, to become his Secretary of

State. Governor Crittenden declined, and General Taylor then

telegraphed to Mr. John M. Clayton, of Delaware, tendering him the

position, which that gentleman promptly accepted.

Mr. Abbott Lawrence, of Boston, solicited the appointment of the

Secretary of the Treasury, and was offered the Navy Department,

which he declined. Mr. Robert Toombs, supported by Representative

Stephens and Senator Dawson, succeeded in having Mr. George W.

Crawford, of Georgia, appointed Secretary of War.

Mr. William M. Meredith, of Pennsylvania, was rather forced upon

General Taylor as Secretary of the Treasury by Mr. Clayton and

other Whigs, partly on account of his acknowledged talents, but

chiefly to exclude objectionable Pennsylvanians, among them Mr.

Josiah Randall, who, more than any other, had contributed to the

nomination and election of the General. A contest between Messrs.

Corwin and Vinton, of Ohio, for a seat in the Cabinet was settled

by the appointment of Mr. Thomas Ewing, of that State, as Secretary

of the Interior. Mr. Jacob Collamer, of Vermont, who had been an

unsuccessful competitor with Mr. Upham for a seat in the Senate,

and had been recommended by the Legislature of his state as Attorney-

General, was made Postmaster-General.

General Taylor came to Washington impressed with the idea that he

was politically indebted to George Lunt, of Massachusetts, and

William Ballard Preston, of Virginia. He appointed Mr. Lunt District

Attorney for the district of Massachusetts, and it was soon understood

that he proposed to invite Mr. Preston to a seat in his Cabinet as

Attorney-General. The Whig Senators remonstrated, urging Preston's

lack of great legal ability and learning, but all to no purpose.

Finally Senator Archer, of Virginia, called and asked if there was

any foundation for the report that his friend Preston was to be

made Attorney-General. "Yes!" answered General Taylor, "I have

determined on that appointment." "Are you aware, General," said

the Senator, "that the Attorney-General must represent the Government

in the Supreme Court?" "Of course!" responded the General. "But

did you know that he must there meet Daniel Webster, Reverdy Johnson,

and other leading lawyers?" "Certainly. What of it?" "Nothing,

General, except that they will make a blank fool of your Attorney-

General." The Virginia Senator then took his leave, and the next

morning's papers contained the announcement that the President had

decided to appoint Mr. Preston Secretary of the Navy, and Mr.

Reverdy Johnson Attorney-General.

Mrs. Taylor regretted the election of her husband, and came to

Washington with a heavy heart. She was a native of Calvert County,

Maryland, and was born on the estate where the father of Mrs. John

Quincy Adams had formerly resided. Her father, Mr. Walter Smith,

was a highly respectable farmer, and her brother, Major Richard

Smith, of the Marine Corps, was well remembered at Washington for

his gallant bearing and his social qualities. The eldest daughter

of General Taylor had married Mr. Jefferson Davis. A second daughter

was the wife of Dr. Wood, of the army, who was at that time stationed

at Baltimore, as was General Taylor's brother, Colonel Taylor.

Mrs. Taylor, with her younger daughter, Mrs. Bliss, went directly

from Louisiana to Baltimore some weeks prior to the inauguration.

They broke up housekeeping at Baton Rouge, and took with them

William Oldham, a faithful colored man, who had been the body-

servant of General Taylor for many years, the parade horse, "Old

Whitey," which he had ridden in the Mexican campaign, and a favorite

dog.

General Taylor was inaugurated on Monday, March 5th. He was escorted

from Willard's Hotel by an imposing procession, headed by twelve

volunteer companies. The President-elect rode in an open carriage

drawn by four gray horses, and he was joined at the Irving House

by President Polk, who sat at his right hand. One hundred young

gentlemen, residents of the District of Columbia, mounted on spirited

horses, formed a body-guard, and kept the crowd from pressing around

the President's carriage. Then came the "Rough-and-Ready" clubs

of Washington, Georgetown, Alexandria, and Baltimore, with banners,

badges, and music, while the students of the Georgetown College

brought up the rear.

The personal appearance of General Taylor as he read his inaugural

address from a platform erected in front of the eastern portico of

the Capitol was not imposing. His figure was somewhat portly, and

his legs were short; his thin, gray hair was unbrushed; his whiskers

were of the military cut then prescribed; his features were weather-

bronzed and care-furrowed; and he read almost inaudibly. It was

evident, however, that he was a popular favorite, and when he had

concluded the vociferous cheering of the assembled thousands was

answered by the firing of cannon and the music of the bands. His

praises were on all lips, and his soubriquets of "Rough and Ready"

and "Old Zach." were sounded with all honor.

The inaugural message showed that General Taylor regarded the Union

as in danger, and that he intended to use every possible exertion

for its preservation. Mr. Calhoun had requested, through Mr.

Clayton, that nothing should be said in the inaugural on this

subject, which had prompted the addition of a paragraph, in which

the incoming President declared that a dissolution of the Union

would be the greatest of calamities, and went on to say: "Whatever

dangers may threaten it, I shall stand by it, and maintain it in

its integrity, to the full extent of the obligations imposed and

the power conferred upon me by the Constitution."

In December, 1849, when Congress assembled, the President aroused

the violent opposition of Southern members by recommending, in his

message, that California be admitted as a free State, and that the

remaining Territories be allowed to form Constitutions to suit

themselves. So indignant were some of the Southerners that the

dissolution of the Union was openly threatened. To allay this

agitation Clay's compromise measures were proposed, but Taylor did

not live to see the bill passed.

The horde of office-seekers which invaded Washington after the

inauguration of President Taylor recalled the saying of John

Randolph, when it was asserted that the patronage of the Federal

Government was overrated: "I know," said the sarcastic Virginian,

"that it may be overrated; I know that we cannot give to those who

apply offices equal to their expectations; and I also know that

with one bone I can call five hundred dogs." The Democratic motto,

that "To the victors belong the spoils," was adopted by the Taylor

Administration. Unexceptionable men were removed from office, that

their places might be filled with officers of Rough and Ready clubs

or partisan orators. Veterans like General Armstrong and even the

gifted Hawthorne, were "rotated" without mercy from the offices

which they held. In the Post-Office Department alone, where Mr.

Fitz Henry Warren, as Assistant Postmaster-General, worked the

political guillotine, there were three thousand four hundred and

six removals during the first year of the Taylor Administration,

besides many hundred clerks and employees in the post-offices of

the larger cities.

In the dispensation of "patronage" there was a display of shameless

nepotism. A brother-in-law of Senator Webster was made Navy Agent

at New York. Sons of Senators Crittenden, Clay, and Davis received

important appointments abroad, and the son-in-law of Senator Calhoun

was retained in the diplomatic service. Two sons-in-law of Senator

Benton were offered high places. A nephew of Senator Truman Smith

was made one of the United States Judges in Minnesota, and a nephew

of Secretary Clayton was made purser at the Washington Navy Yard.

The assurance of the President that he had "no friends to reward"

was apparently forgotten, and he was hedged in by a little circle

of executive councilors, who ruled all things.

While the Administration was profligate in this abuse of patronage,

the conduct of several of the Secretaries was such as to give the

President great uneasiness as he became acquainted with what was

going on. Old claims were revived, approved by the Secretaries,

and paid. Prominent among them was the Galphin claim, the Chickasaw

claim, the De la Francia claim, the Gardiner claim, and many others.

From the Galphin claim Mr. Crawford, Secretary of War, received as

his share one hundred and fifteen thousand dollars. The lawyers

in Congress declared that the Secretary acted professionally, but

others censured him severely. Judge Cartter, then a Representative

from Ohio, was severe in his comments on the monstrous corruption

of the allowance of interest, the payment of which he said that he

disliked "both as an exaction of the part of the capitalists, and

on account of its origin with the Jews, who killed the Saviour."

President Taylor, although a Southerner by birth and a slave-owner,

took prompt steps to thwart the schemes of Mr. Calhoun and his

fellow-conspirators. Military officers were ordered to California,

Utah, and New Mexico, which had no governments but lynch law; and

the people of the last-named province, which had been settled two

hundred years before Texas asserted her independence, were assured

that her domain would be guaranteed by the United States against

the claim of the Lone Star State.

Socially, President Taylor enjoyed himself, and he used to take

morning walks through the streets of Washington, wearing a high

black silk hat perched on the back of his head, and a suit of black

broadcloth, much too large for him, but made in obedience to his

orders, that he might be comfortable. Mrs. Taylor used to sit

patiently all day in her room, plying her knitting-needles, and

occasionally, it was said, smoking her pipe. Mrs. Bliss was an

excellent housekeeper, and the introduction of gas into the Executive

Mansion, with new furniture and carpets, enabled her to give it a

more creditable appearance. It was said that she did the honors

of the establishment "with the artlessness of a rustic belle and

the grace of a duchess."

General Taylor found it difficult to accustom himself to the

etiquette and the restraint of his new position. One day when the

bachelor ex-Secretary of State called with a number of fair

Pennsylvania friends to present them to the President, General

Taylor remarked: "Ah! Mr. Buchanan, you always pick out the

prettiest ladies!" "Why, Mr. President," was the courtly reply,

"I know that your taste and mine agree in this respect." "Yes,"

said General Taylor, "but I have been so long among Indians and

Mexicans that I hardly know how to behave myself, surrounded by so

many lovely women."

[Facsimile]

ZTaylor

ZACHARY TAYLOR was born in Orange County, Virginia, November 24th,

1784; never cast a vote or held a civil office until he was

inaugurated as President, March 5th, 1849; died at the White House,

after a few days' illness, July 9th, 1850.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE GREAT COMPROMISE DEBATE.

The Thirty-first Congress, which met on the first Monday in the

December following the inauguration of President Taylor, contained

many able statesmen of national prominence. The organization of

the House was a difficult task, nine "free-soil" or anti-slavery

Whigs from the North and six "State-rights" or pro-slavery Whigs

from the South, refusing to vote for that accomplished gentleman,

Mr. Robert C. Winthrop, who was the Whig candidate for Speaker.

On the first ballot, Howell Cobb, of Georgia, had one hundred and

three votes, against ninety-six votes for Robert C. Winthrop, eight

votes for David Wilmot, six votes for Meredith P. Gentry, two votes

for Horace Mann, and a number of scattering votes. The tellers

announced that these was no choice, and the balloting was continued

day after day, amid great and increasing excitement. After the

thirty-ninth ballot, Mr. Winthrop withdrew from the contest,

expressing his belief that the peace and the safety of the Union

demanded that an organization of some sort should be effected

without delay.

The Southern Whigs who had opposed Mr. Winthrop were vehement and

passionate in their denunciation of the North. "The time has come,"

said Mr. Toombs, his black, uncombed hair standing out from his

massive head, as if charged with electricity, his eyes glowing like

coals of fire, and his sentences rattling forth like volleys of

musketry--"the time has come," said he, "when I shall not only

utter my opinions, but make them the basis of my political action

here. I do not, then, hesitate to avow before this House and the

country, and in the presence of the living God, that if, by your

legislation, you seek to drive us from the Territories of California

and New Mexico, and to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia,

I am for disunion; and if my physical courage be equal to the

maintenance of my convictions of right and duty, I will devote all

I am and all I have on earth to its consummation."

Such inflammatory remarks provoked replies, and after a heated

debate Mr. Duer, of New York, remarked that he "would never, under

any circumstances, vote to put a man in the Speaker's chair who

would, in any event, advocate or sanction a dissolution of the

Union." This brought a dozen Southerners to their feet, with angry

exclamations, and Mr. Bayly, of Virginia, who was near Mr. Duer,

said "There are no disunionists." "There are!" exclaimed Mr. Duer.

"Name one!" shouted Mr. Bayly. At that moment Mr. Meade, of

Virginia, rose and passed directly before Mr. Duer, who pointed to

him and shouted, "There's one!" "It is false!" replied Mr. Meade,

angrily. "You lie, sir!" responded Mr. Duer, in tones which rang

through the hall; and, drawing himself up, he stood unmoved, while

his political friends and foes clustered angrily about him, every

man of them talking and gesticulating most furiously.

Fortunately, Mr. Nathan Sergeant (known as a newspaper correspondent

over the signature of Oliver Oldschool), who was the Sergeant-at-

Arms of the House, was in his seat at the Speaker's right hand.

Seizing the "mace," which represents the Roman fasces, or bundle

of rods, bound by silver bands and surmounted by an eagle with

outstretched wings, which is the symbol of the authority of the

House, he hastened to Mr. Duer and stood at his side, as if to

protect him. His official interposition was immediately respected

by all concerned in the disorder, and even the most tumultuous

began at once to subside, so that no forcible measures were needed

to prevent further violence.

Quiet was restored, and the excited Representatives, one by one,

obeyed the sharp raps of the Speaker's gavel, accompanied by the

peremptory order, "Gentlemen will take their seats." Mr. Duer,

who had recovered his usual composure, then addressed the Chair,

and having been recognized, apologized to the House for having been

provoked into the use of the unparliamentary expression, but

justified himself by referring to a speech which Mr. Meade had just

made and printed, which contained disunion sentiments. Mr. Meade

promptly challenged Mr. Duer, who showed no indisposition to fight,

but with some difficulty friends secured an amicable settlement of

the quarrel.

Finally, after three weeks of angry recriminations, it was voted

that a plurality should elect, and on the sixty-second ballot Mr.

Howell Cobb, of Georgia, having received one hundred and two votes

against one hundred votes for Mr. Winthrop, was declared the Speaker

of the House. He did not have that sense of personal dignity and

importance which belonged to Sir John Falstaff by reason of his

knighthood, but he displayed the same rich exuberance of animal

enjoyment, the same roguish twinkle of the eye, and the same

indolence which characterized the fat Knight.

President Taylor's first and only message to Congress was transmitted

on the Monday following the organization of the House, December

24th, and the printed copies first distributed contained the

sentence, "We are at peace with all the nations of the world and

the rest of mankind." A revised edition was soon printed, in which

the corrected sentence read, "We are at peace with all the nations

of the world, and seek to maintain our cherished relations of amity

with them." The blunder caused much diversion among the Democrats,

and greatly annoyed Colonel Bliss, who, as the President's private

secretary, had superintended the publication of the message. The

message contained no allusion to the slavery question, but the

President had declared himself in favor of the untrammeled admission

of California into the Union, while, on the other hand, he did not

approve the "higher law" doctrine which Mr. Seward was advocating

as a nucleus for a new political party in the North.

Meanwhile, Henry Clay had reappeared at Washington as a Senator

from Kentucky, and occupied his old quarters at the National Hotel,

a large stockholder in which, Mr. Calvert, of Maryland, was one of

Clay's many friends. Although in his seventy-third year, Mr. Clay

was apparently hale and hearty, but showed his age. His head, bald

on the top, was fringed with long, iron-gray hair, his cheeks were

somewhat sunken, his nose had a pinched look, but his wide mouth

was, as in years past, wreathed in genial smiles. He always was

dressed in black, and from a high black satin stock, which enveloped

his long neck, emerged a huge white shirt collar, which reached to

his ears. He mingled in society, generally kissed the prettiest

girls wherever he went, and enjoyed a quiet game of cards in his

own room, with a glass of toddy made from Bourbon County whisky.

At the commencement of the session Mr. Clay requested that he might

be excused from service on any of the standing committees of the

Senate, and his wish was granted. It was not long, however, before

he evinced a desire to re-enter the arena of debate as a leader of

the Whig party, but not as a follower of President Taylor. Presenting

a series of resolutions which would consolidate the settlement of

the eight different questions involving slavery, then before

Congress, into what he expected would prove a lasting compromise,

he moved their reference to a select committee of thirteen, with

instructions to report them in one bill. The Committee was

authorized, but not without opposition, and Mr. Webster's vote

secured for Mr. Clay the chairmanship. A general compromise bill

was speedily prepared, and the "battle of the giants" was recommenced,

Clay, Webster, and Calhoun engaging for the last time in a gladitorial

strife, which exhibited the off-hand genial eloquence of the

Kentuckian, the ponderous strength of the Massachusetts Senator,

and the concentrated energies of South Carolina's favorite son.

Mr. Clay was the leader in the debate, which extended over seven

months, and during that time he was ever on the alert, sometimes

delivering a long argument, sometimes eloquently replying to other

Senators, and sometimes suggesting points to some one who was to

speak on his side. Indignant at the treatment which he had received

from the Whig party he stood unsubdued, and so far from retreating

from those who had deserted him, he intended to make the Taylor

Administration recall its pledges, break its promises, and become

national, or pro-slavery, Whigs.

Mr. Webster was equally grieved and saddened by the faithlessness

of Massachusetts men who had in years past professed friendship

for him, but of whose machinations against him he had obtained

proof during the preceding autumn. He also ascertained that, to

use the words of Mr. Choate, "the attention of the public mind

began to be drawn a little more directly to the great question of

human freedom and human slavery." If he responded to the beatings

of the New England heart, and resisted the aggressions and usurpations

of the slave power, he would have to follow the lead of the

Abolitionists, for whom he had always expressed a profound contempt.

Dejected and depressed, Mr. Webster would at that time have been

glad to take the mission to England, and thus terminate his career

of public service; but he was defeated by the claims of Mr. Abbott

Lawrence, who, having been recently disappointed in not receiving

the appointment of Secretary of the Treasury, refused to be comforted

unless he could be the successor of George Bancroft at the Court

of St. James.

Thaddeus Stevens and Joshua R. Giddings asserted, after the decease

of Mr. Webster, that he prepared a speech, the manuscript of which

they had read, which was a powerful exposition and vindication of

Northern sentiment upon the compromise measures, especially the

fugitive-slave bill. If this was true, he was doubtless induced

to "change front" by pledges of Southern support for the Presidency;

but he is reported by Theodore Parker as having said to a fellow

Senator, on the morning of the 7th of March, "I have my doubts that

the speech I am going to make will ruin me." He should have

remembered that he himself said of the Emperor Napoleon, "His

victories and his triumphs crumbled to atoms, and moldered to dry

ashes in his grasp, because he violated the general sense of justice

of mankind."

At this time Webster's far-seeing mind was doubtless troubled by

the prospects of a bloody civil war, with the breaking up of the

Union he loved so well. He stood by the old compromises rather

than bring on a sectional conflict, and in his opinion there was

no sacrifice too great to avert a fratricidal contest. "I speak

to-day," said he, "for the preservation of the Union!" His words

were in after years the key-notes of many appeals for the protection

and the preservation of the United States.

Mr. Calhoun's health had gradually failed, and at last he was

supported into the Senate Chamber wrapped in flannels, like the

great Chatham, and requested that his friend, Senator Mason, might

read some remarks which he had prepared. The request was, of

course, granted, and while Mr. Mason read the defiant pronunciamento

its author sat wrapped in his cloak, his eyes glowing with meteor-

like brilliancy as he glanced at Senators upon whom he desired to

have certain passages make an impression. When Mr. Mason had

concluded, Mr. Calhoun was supported from the Senate and went back

to his lodgings at Mr. Hill's boarding-house, afterward known as

the Old Capitol, to die.

Mr. Jefferson Davis aspired to the leadership of the South after

the death of Mr. Calhoun, and talked openly of disunion. "Let the

sections," said he, in the Senate Chamber, "part, like the patriarchs

of old, and let peace and good-will subsist among their descendants.

Let no wound be inflicted which time cannot heal. Let the flag of

our Union be folded up entire, the thirteen stripes recording the

original size of our family, untorn by the unholy struggles of

civil war, its constellation to remain undimmed, and speaking to

those who come after us of the growth and prosperity of the family

whilst it remained united. Unmutilated, let it lie among the

archives of the Republic, until some future day, when wiser counsels

shall prevail, when men shall have been sobered in the school of

adversity, again to be unfurled over the continent-wide Republic."

Senator Hale, who, with Salmon P. Chase, was not named on any of

the committees of the Senate, was a constant target for the attacks

of the Southerners, but the keenest shafts of satire made no more

impression upon him than musket-balls do upon the hide of a

rhinoceros. One day when Senator Clemens had asserted that the

Union was virtually dissolved, Mr. Hale said, "If this is not a

matter too serious for pleasant illustration, let me give you one.

Once in my life, in the capacity of Justice of the Peace--for I

held that office before I was Senator--I was called on to officiate

in uniting a couple in the bonds of matrimony. They came up, and

I made short work of it. I asked the man if he would take the

woman whom he held by the hand to be his wedded wife; and he replied,

'To be sure I will. I came here to do that very thing.' I then

put the question to the lady whether she would have the man for

her husband. And when she answered in the affirmative, I told them

they were man and wife then. She looked up with apparent astonishment

and inquired, 'Is that all?' 'Yes,' said I, 'that is all.' 'Well,'

said she, 'it is not such a mighty affair as I expected it to be,

after all!' If this Union is already dissolved, it has produced

less commotion in the act than I expected."

[Facsimile]

Robt. C. Winthrop

ROBERT CHARLES WINTHROP was born at Boston, Massachusetts, May

12th, 1809; was a Representative in Congress from Massachusetts

from December 5th, 1842, to July 30th, 1850, when, having been

appointed a United States Senator from Massachusetts, he took his

seat in the Senate, serving until February 7th, 1851; was Speaker

of the House during the Thirtieth Congress, and a part of the Thirty-

first Congress.

CHAPTER XXIX.

PROMINENT STATESMEN AND DIPLOMATS.

A prominent figure at Washington during the Taylor Administration

was General Sam Houston, a large, imposing-looking man, who generally

wore a waistcoat made from the skin of a panther, dressed with the

hair on, and who generally occupied himself during the sessions of

the Senate in whittling small sticks of soft pine wood, which the

Sergeant-at-Arms provided for him. His life had been one of romantic

adventure. After having served with distinction under General

Jackson in the Creek War, he had become a lawyer, and then Governor

of the State of Tennessee. Soon after his inauguration he had

married an accomplished young lady, to whom he one day intimated,

in jest, that she apparently cared more for a former lover than

she did for him. "You are correct," said she, earnestly, "I love

Mr. Nickerson's little finger better than I do your whole body."

Words ensued, and the next day Houston resigned his Governorship,

went into the Cherokee country, west of the Arkansas River, adopted

the Indian costume, and became an Indian trader. He was the best

customer supplied from his own whisky barrel, until one day, after

a prolonged debauch, he heard from a Texas Indian that the Mexicans

had taken up arms against their revolted province. A friend agreeing

to accompany him, he cast off his Indian attire, again dressing

like a white man, and never drank a drop of any intoxicating beverage

afterward. Arriving in Texas at a critical moment, his gallantry

was soon conspicuous, and in due time he was sent to Washington as

United States Senator. His strong points, however, were more

conspicuous on the field than in the Senate.

William H. Seward entered the Senate when General Taylor was

inaugurated as President, and soon became the directing spirit of

the Administration, although Colonel Bullit, who had been brought

from Louisiana to edit the _Republic_, President Taylor's recognized

organ, spoke of him only with supercilious contempt. Senator Foote

sought reputation by insulting him in public, and was himself

taunted by Mr. Calhoun with the inconsistent fact of intimacy with

him in private. The newly elected Senator from New York persisted

in maintaining amicable relations with his revilers, and quietly

controlled the immense patronage of his State, none of which was

shared by the friends of Vice-President Fillmore. He was not at

heart a reformer; he probably cared but little whether the negro

was a slave or a freeman; but he sought his own political advancement

by advocating in turn anti-Masonry and abolitionism, and by

politically coquetting with Archbishop Hughes, of the Roman Catholic

Church, and Henry Wilson, a leading Know-Nothing. Personally he

was honest, but he was always surrounded by intriguers and tricksters,

some of whose nests he would aid in feathering. The most unscrupulous

lobbyists that have ever haunted the Capitol were well known as

devoted adherents of William H. Seward, and he swayed them as a

sovereign.

Mr. James Buchanan had not shed many tears over the defeat of his

rival, General Cass, and when the Whigs came into power he retired

from the Department of State to his rural home, called Wheatland,

near Lancaster, Pa. He used to visit Washington frequently, and

was always welcomed in society, where he made an imposing appearance,

although he had the awkward habit of carrying his head slightly to

one side, like a poll-parrot. He always attempted to be facetious,

especially when conversing with young ladies, but when any political

question was discussed in his presence, he was either silent, or

expressed himself with great circumspection. From his first entry

into the House of Representatives, in 1821, he had entertained

Presidential aspirations, and had sought to cultivate friendships

that would be of service to him in obtaining the object of his

ambition, protesting all the while that he was indifferent on the

subject. After his retreat to Wheatland he began to secure strength

for the coming National Democratic Convention of 1851, industriously

corresponding with politicians in different sections of the country,

and he was especially attentive to Mr. Henry A. Wise, with whose

aid he hoped to secure the votes of the delegates from Virginia in

the next National Democratic Convention.

Mr. Wise, recalling the time when he was a power behind the throne

of John Tyler, encouraged Mr. Buchanan to bid for Southern support,

and intimated a readiness to "coach" him so as to make him a favorite

in the slave States. His counsels were kindly taken and in return

Mr. Buchanan wrote to the fiery "Lord of Accomac," in his most

precise handwriting: "Acquire more character for prudence and

moderation, and under the blessing of Heaven you may be almost

anything in this country which you desire. There is no man living

whose success in public and in private life would afford me more

sincere pleasure than your own. You have every advantage. All

you have to do is to go straight ahead, without unnecessarily

treading upon other people's toes. I know you will think, if you

don't say, 'What impudence it is for this childless old bachelor

of sixty years of age to undertake to give me advice! Why don't

he mind his own business?' General Jackson once told me that he

knew a man in Tennessee who had got rich by minding his own business;

but still I urged him, and at last with success, which he never

regretted."

The free distribution of plants and seeds to Congressmen for their

favored constituents has made it an equally easy matter for the

Commissioner of Agriculture to obtain liberal appropriations for

his Department and the publication of enormous editions of his

Reports. Indeed, the Bureau of Agriculture has grown under these

fostering influences to one of immense magnitude, and its beautiful

building, erected in Lincoln's time, is one of the ornaments of

the city.

The first of the Agricultural Reports was issued by Edmund Burke,

while he was commissioner of Patents during the Polk Administration.

On the incoming of the Taylor Administration Mr. Burke was succeeded

by Thomas Ewbank, of New York City, and Congress made an appropriation

of three thousand five hundred dollars for the collection of

agricultural statistics. When Mr. Ewbank's report appeared the

Southern Congressmen were (to quote the words used by Senator

Jefferson Davis, in debate) amazed to find that it was preceded by

what he termed "an introduction by Horace Greeley, a philosopher

and philanthropist of the strong Abolition type." "The simple

fact," he continued, "that Mr. Greeley was employed to write the

introduction is sufficient to damn the work with me, and render it

worthless in my estimation." This view was held by many other

Southerners.

Notwithstanding this fierce denunciation, however, the public

appreciated just such work as had been undertaken, and so rapid

was the growth of interest in this direction that the Department

of Agriculture was fully organized in 1862. It has continued to

issue immense numbers of Reports, which are standing objects of

jest and complaint, but the fact still remains that they contain

splendid stores of valuable information.

Queen Victoria accredited as her Minister Plenipotentiary to

President Tyler the Right Honorable Sir Henry Lytton Bulwer, an

accomplished diplomat, slender, and apparently in ill health. He

was afterward, for many years, the British Minister at Constantinople,

where he defeated the machinations of Russia, and held in cunning

hand the tangled thread of that delicate puzzle, the Eastern

Question. His private secretary while he was at Washington was

his nephew, Mr. Robert Bulwer (a son of the novelist), who has

since won renown as Lord Lytton, Viceroy of India, and as the author

--Owen Meredith.

The bitter political discussions at the Capitol during the first

six months of 1850 prevented much social enjoyment. There were

the customary receptions at the White House, and "hops" at the

hotels, but few large parties were given. Tea-parties were numerous,

at which a succession of colored waiters carried trays heaped with

different varieties of home-made cakes and tarts, from which the

beaux supplied the belles, and at the same time ministered to their

own wants, balancing a well-loaded plate on one knee, while they

held a cup and saucer, replete with fragrant decoctions from the

Chinese plant "which cheers, but not inebriates."

The reigning belles were the queen-like widow Ashley, of Missouri,

who afterward married Senator Crittenden, and her beautiful daughter,

who became the wife of Mr. Cabell, of Florida. Mrs. Fremont and

her sisters made the home of their father, Colonel Benton, very

attractive; General Cass's daughter, who afterward married the

Dutch Minister, had returned from Paris with many rare works of

art, and the proscribed Free-soilers met with a hearty welcome at

the house of Dr. Bailey, editor of the _New Era_, where Miss Dodge

(Gail Hamilton), passed her first winter in Washington.

On the evening of the 4th of July, 1850, a large reception was

given by ex-Speaker Winthrop to his gentlemen friends, without

distinction of party or locality. At the supper-table Mr. Winthrop

had at his right hand Vice-President Fillmore, and at his left hand

Mr. Speaker Cobb. Webster and Foote, Benton and Horace Mann, the

members elect from California, with Clingman and Venable, who were

trying to keep them out, were seen in genial companionship. Most

of the Cabinet and the President's private secretary, Colonel Bliss,

were there, side by side with those who proposed to impeach them.

The only drawback to the general enjoyment of the occasion was the

understanding that it was the farewell entertainment of Mr. Winthrop,

who had given so many evidences of his unselfish patriotism and

eminent ability, and whose large experience in public affairs should

have entitled him to the continued confidence of the people of

Massachusetts. President Taylor was absent, and Colonel Bliss

apologized for his non-attendance, saying that he was somewhat

indisposed.

The old hero had that day sat in the sun at the Washington Monument

during a long spread-eagle address by Senator Foote, with a tedious

supplementary harangue by George Washington Parke Custis. While

thus exposed to the midsummer heat for nearly three hours, he had

drank freely of ice-water, and on his return to the White House he

had found a basket of cherries, of which he partook heartily,

drinking at the same time several goblets of iced milk. After

dinner he still further feasted on cherries and iced milk against

the protestations of Dr. Witherspoon, who was his guest. When it

was time to go to Mr. Winthrop's he felt ill, and soon afterward

he was seized with a violent attack of cholera morbus. This was

on Thursday, but he did not consider himself dangerously ill until

Sunday, when he said to his physician, "In two days I shall be a

dead man." Eminent physicians were called in, but they could not

arrest the bilious fever which supervened. His mind was clear,

and on Tuesday morning he said to one of the physicians at his

bedside, "You have fought a good fight, but you cannot make a

stand." Soon afterward he murmured, "I have endeavored to do my

duty," and peacefully breathed his last. His sudden death was

immediately announced by the tolling of the bell in the Department

of State, and in a few moments the funereal knell was echoed from

every church steeple in the district.

[Facsimile]

William H. Seward

WILLIAM H. SEWARD was born at Florida, New York, May 16th, 1801;

was Governor of New York, 1838-1842; was United States Senator from

New York from March 4th, 1849, until he entered the Cabinet of

President Lincoln as Secretary of State, March 5th, 1861; remained

Secretary of State under President Johnson until March 3d, 1869;

traveled around the world in 1870-1871, and died at Auburn, New

York, October 10th, 1872.

CHAPTER XXX.

FILLMORE AT THE WHITE HOUSE.

On the tenth of July, 1850, the day after the death of General

Taylor, Mr. Fillmore appeared in the Representatives' Hall at the

Capitol, where both houses of Congress had met in joint session,

took the oath of office, and immediately left. The new President

was then fifty years of age, of average height, florid features,

white hair, shrewd, gray eyes, and dignified yet courteous manners.

He had risen from the humble walks of life, by incessant toil, to

the highest position in the Republic. Always animated by an

indomitable spirit and by that industry and perseverance which are

the sure guarantees of success, he was undoubtedly a man of ability,

but his intellect seemed, like that of Lord Bacon, to lack to

complement of heart. A blank in his nature, where loyalty to the

public sentiment of the North should have been, made him a willing

instrument to crush out the growing determination north of Mason

and Dixon's line that freedom should be national, slavery sectional.

Mr. Fillmore had given satisfaction to the Senators by the impartial

manner in which he had presided as Vice-President over their

deliberations. They had, by a unanimous vote, approved of his

ruling, which reversed the decision of Mr. Calhoun, twenty-three

years before, that the Vice-President had no right to call a Senator

to order for words spoken in debate, and they had ordered his

explanatory remarks to be entered upon the journal. By Mr. Seward

and Mr. Weed, however, he was treated with marked contempt, and

under their direction the Taylor Administration had given him the

cold shoulder. Even his requests that two of his personal friends

should be appointed Collector of the Port and Postmaster at Buffalo

had been formally refused, and the places had been given to partisans

of Mr. Seward. The unexpected death of General Taylor was an

element which even Mr. Seward had never taken into account, and

the first consequence was undisguised confusion among the supporters

of the Administration. The members of the Cabinet promptly tendered

their resignations, and it was plainly visible that the sudden

removal of the President had checkmated the plans so carefully

made, and forced the chief player to feel the bitterness of political

death. Mr. Fillmore was known to be amiable in private life, but

it was evident that he would show little regard for those who had

snubbed and slighted him in his less powerful position.

The remains of the deceased President lay in state for several days

in the East Room at the White house, and were then interred with

great pomp. Religious services were held at the White House, where

the distinguished men of the nation were grouped around the coffin.

At the funeral there was a large military escort of regulars and

volunteers, commanded by General Scott, who was mounted on a spirited

horse and wore a richly embroidered uniform, with a high chapeau

crowned with yellow plumes. The ponderous funeral car was drawn

by eight white horses. Behind the car was led "Old Whitey," the

charger ridden by General Taylor in Mexico. He was a well-made

horse, in good condition, and with head erect, as if inspired by

the clang of martial music, he followed to the grave the remains

of him whom he had so often borne to victory. When the artillery

and infantry fired the parting salute at the cemetery, the old war-

horse pricked up his ears and looked around for his rider.

Mr. Fillmore tendered the Secretary of State's portfolio to Mr.

Webster, who promptly accepted it. He had been assured that if he

would advocate the compromises he would create a wave of popular

sentiment that would float him into the White House in 1856, against

all opposition, and that no Democratic aspirant would stand in his

way. Believing all this, Mr. Webster had committed himself in his

7th of March speech, and had found that many of his life-long

friends and constituents refused to follow his lead. Faneuil Hall

had been closed to him, and he was glad to escape from the Senate

Chamber into the Department of State. Jefferson, Madison, Monroe,

John Quincy Adams, and Martin Van Buren had found that Department

a convenient stepping-stone to the Presidential chair, and why

should not he?

Mr. Webster was a great favorite in the Department of State, for

he made no removals, and his generous and considerate treatment of

the clerks won their affection. His especial favorite was Mr.

George J. Abbott, a native of New Hampshire, who had been graduated

at Exeter and Cambridge, and had then come to Washington to take

charge of a boys' school. He was an accomplished classical scholar,

and he used to hunt up Latin quotations applicable to the questions

of the day, which Mr. Webster would commit to memory and use with

effect. His private secretary was Mr. Charles Lanman, a young

gentleman of literary and artistic tastes, who was a devoted disciple

of Isaak Walton. Mr. Webster and he would often leave the Department

of State for a day of piscatorial enjoyment at the Great Falls of

the Potomac, when the Secretary would throw off public cares and

personal pecuniary troubles to cast his lines with boyish glee,

and to exult loudly when he succeeded in hooking a fish. Another

clerk in the Department who enjoyed Mr. Webster's esteem was Mr.

Zantzinger, the son of a purser in the Navy, who possessed rare

accomplishments. Whenever Mr. Webster visited his estates in New

Hampshire or Massachusetts, he was accompanied by one of these

gentlemen, who had the charge of his correspondence, and who, while

enjoying his fullest confidence, contributed largely to his personal

enjoyment.

Mr. Webster's Washington home was a two-story brick house on

Louisiana Avenue, next to the Unitarian Church. His dining-room

was in the basement story, and it was seldom that he had not friends

at his hospitable table. Monica, the old colored woman, continued

to be his favorite cook, and her soft-shell crabs, terrapin, fried

oysters, and roasted canvas-back ducks have never been surpassed

at Washington, while she could make a regal Cape Cod chowder, or

roast a Rhode Island turkey, or prepare the old-fashioned New

Hampshire "boiled dinner," which the "expounder of the Constitution"

loved so well. Whenever he had to work at night, she used to make

him a cup of tea in an old britannia metal teapot, which had been

his mother's and he used to call this beverage his "Ethiopian

nectar." The teapot was purchased of Monica after Mr. Webster's

death by Henry A. Willard, Esq., of Washington, who presented it

to the Continental Museum at Indian Hill Farm, the author's

residence.