WHICH TREATS OF MANY THINGS UNIQUE AND WONDERFUL, ALL OF WHICH TOOK
PLACE WHEN THE MAJOR ARRIVED AT THE GREAT ST. NICHOLAS HOTEL.
So great was the anxiety of the reporters to jot down the most
trifling occurrence, that they followed close at the heels of the
juvenile rabble, and at times were in great danger of getting their
heads cracked by the missiles hurled by the infuriated alderman,
who, in his heart, had a holy horror of such persons, and would have
killed a dozen of them without shedding a tear, though they had
several times made very intelligible English of his very
unintelligible speeches. Fatigued and almost out of breath, they,
however reached the grand hotel in good time, and quite took
possession of the landlord's best parlor, though he was as polite a
gentleman as could be met with in a day's journey. They then entered
his gorgeous bar-room, and partook freely of his liquors, (of which
he kept none but the best,) telling him that as they were without
money, he must charge the score to the freedom of the press. The
host being accustomed to the pranks of these worthy men, as they are
called by their employers, bid them take comfort in his house; at
the same time, knowing their propensities, he cautioned them against
making free with his chambermaids.
The cortége had been proceeding at a slow pace, which so increased
the difficulties they met from the ragged urchins along the road,
that the driver whipped up and arrived at the hotel in peace. But
this rather increased than diminished Alderman Dooley's
difficulties, for old Battle being unable to quicken his pace, the
urchins made him the object of their mischief, and so retarded his
progress that the major had arrived full half an hour when he
reached the hotel. In truth, he was compelled to dismount and lead
the animal, in order to secure his own safety.
The reception at the hotel, as it appeared on the following morning
in the newspapers, was something truly magnificent, proving
conclusively that the reporters had seen no less than one hundred
persons for every one present. My love for truth in all matters of
history constrains me to say, that these reporters made a great
mistake, since nothing could have been more simple, and yet in
keeping with true greatness, than the major's reception at the
hotel, and this for the very reason that he had outdistanced the
rabble. My declining years and gray hairs forbid me envying any man
his laurels, but I will not degrade a noble profession by making
myself the vassal of every great man who sets foot on these shores.
I say, then, that when the cattle and the major reached the door of
this spacious pile of white marble, wherein cheap luxury awaits the
million, it was near sundown, and the only persons standing at the
grand entrance, were those eight or ten bediamonded gentlemen who
carry on their occupation in suspicious places, and are commonly
called swell mobsmen, though judging from the air and circumstance
with which they occupy the great entrance to the great St. Nicholas,
it would seem as if the landlord had employed them for the double
purpose of ogling ladies as they passed and holding up his marble
columns. I should indeed be sorry to hear that this was true, for an
extremely respectable acquaintance tells me the landlord is a most
excellent gentleman, and looks well to the reputation of his house.
As the carriage stopped the major cast a glance upward, as if
viewing the curiously wrought lintels of the massive marble front,
and exclaimed: "Upon my soul, gentlemen, it is so grand I begin to
fear I shall not be comfortable in it." He had scarcely concluded
this sentence, when a distinguished politician, habited in soiled
drab trousers and a shabby brown dress coat, and a badly collapsed
hat, which he wore well down over his eyes, rushed eagerly out, and
was followed by a mellow faced policeman, with a green patch over
his left eye and a club in his right hand. Constituting in
themselves a committee of reception, the distinguished politician,
who was a delegate from the custom house, now made himself right
busy in getting the major and the high functionaries safely out of
the carriage. And this being done without delay, the policeman
ordered the swell mobsmen to stand back until the distinguished
politician had presented his congratulations, which he did, adding
that he had long been familiar with the potency of the major's
greatness, which the city, unlike other cities, was always ready to
honor.
The strange figure cut by the major, in his stranger uniform,
attracted the attention of sundry enthusiastic chambermaids, who
appeared upon the balconies, and recognizing in the character of the
team the arrival of an important personage, commenced waving
napkins, and giving such other visible signs of their admiration,
that he was with difficulty restrained from making them a speech on
the spot.
He now moved quietly into the house, the jaded policeman on his
right, and the distinguished politician on his left, and followed by
the three high officials and a score of reporters. Turning neither
to the right nor the left, he proceeded straight on into the great
bar room, where the queerness of his walk and raiment attracted no
little attention among the well dressed gentry who nightly meet
there to discuss over well compounded punches all affairs
appertaining to the welfare of the state. And here, having quenched
their thirst in mixtures of whiskey and water, which is the favorite
drink with all really great politicians, the party quietly retired
up stairs to a splendidly furnished parlor and bedroom, provided at
the expense of the city, against which a score of six shillings now
stood at the bar.
A sudden commotion in the street, accompanied by shouts and huzzas
that made the very air echo, discovered the fact that Alderman Dan
Dooley had arrived. Indeed, the scene that at that moment was being
enacted in Broadway beggared description, and caused a great
scampering among the reporters, who hastened to the spot in order
not to lose a single occurrence. There stood old Battle, bespattered
with mud, and in a condition so pitiable, that no truly
philanthropic gentleman could have withheld his tears. Near him
stood Mr. Alderman Dan Dooley, excited, distracted, infuriated, and
swearing by all the saints in the calendar, to have revenge of a
swarm of unwashed and ragged urchins, who stood jeering him at a
respectful distance, and whom his sudden advances and retreats
rather amused than daunted; for although they seemed in no way
inclined to stand his charge, they would follow his retreat with
renewed energy. A waiter now relieved the animal of the saddlebags
and holsters, and taking him by the bridle led him limping to the
stable, where he seized with great avidity the hay and oats set
before him. A second policeman, according to a well respected custom
among the force, came up when all the trouble was over, and
addressing the discomfited alderman, said: "If I had been a minute
sooner, sir, this thing would not have occurred; but I was called
from my beat to quell a brush at fists between two of our common
councilmen, at Florence's. I now come to your protection; and as you
are a worthy gentleman, whom it is my office to obey, say but the
word and I pledge you my faith to club the heads of every one of
your persecutors. But first let me entreat you to get into the
house, and if my club fail not, you shall see how I can keep the
peace."
The alderman listened with great attention to the policeman,
converted his rage into discretion, and disappeared in the great bar
room of the St. Nicholas, where he forgot his afflictions in a stout
draught of water and whiskey, which so addressed itself to his
dignity, that after ordering it charged to the city's account, he
repaired quietly into the presence of his true friends, who had
already began to unite in compliments to the major. "Now, meiger,"
spoke Mr. Alderman Dooley, approaching the major, with his right
hand extended, "understand that it's we that are the riprisintitives
of this mitropilas, in which ye're as wilcome as the flowers of May.
Mind that now! And may the smiles of heaven rest upon ye, an' upon
the gineration ye bilongs to. Gifts, meiger, are given to the great
for a pirpose. Faith, it's my own exparience tells me that! Whisht
now! (Here he tapped the major confidentially on the arm.) The city
manes to do ye 'oner enough, oneyhow. An' its myself and Terry Brady
'll see the pay comes." Terry Brady was the name of the
distinguished politician. Mr. Dan Dooley now being, as he said,
"entirely done out," flung his hat under the table and himself upon
a luxuriant sofa, carved in black walnut, and upholstered with green
and orange colored brocade. And upon this he felt great comfort for
his feet, while the high colored figures of the Turkey carpet
afforded him an excellent target for the substance he ever and anon
ejected from his spacious and discolored mouth.
And, too, my high regard for the fair guests of the great St.
Nicholas, of whom it was said by these malicious reporters that they
rushed "en masse" to receive the major, immediately he entered the
house, reminds me that I must not forget to mention, that the only
ladies present were the wife of the distinguished politician, and a
damsel of fair looks and firm virtue. I am no higilian, and only use
the term "firm virtue" here, as being applicable to this damsel; for
although no end of slanders had been cast upon her, the man who
dared to come forward and say he had trifled with her chastity, was
yet to be found. By these, I freely confess he was received with a
courtesy worthy of so great a politician.
And now, when it was night, and two thousand jets of gas threw a
blaze of light over the massive pile, which seemed suddenly
transformed into a regal palace, where high colors and cheap revelry
went hand in hand, the party, joined and rejoined by several other
distinguished politicians, refreshed themselves on a sumptuous
supper, which the landlord had prepared without regard to expense.
And when this was over, and the major's arrival had got fully noised
about, there came such a throng of rejected humanity that the house
presented the appearance of a palace beseiged by bread rioters. And
so impassioned did the clamor of the throng become, that I thought
if Saint Nicholas, who was supposed to be the presiding deity of
this hotel, could look down upon it without a frown, he must be an
uncommon saint. In fine, the landlord found that getting so great a
politician into his house was not much to its reputation, as the
eclat therein gained would be counteracted, with tenfold interest,
by the pilfering propensities of his unwashed followers, who now
rushed into his house in such ungovernable confusion that guards had
to be stationed along the passages, armed with tipstaffs and
bludgeons. Indeed, he wished in his heart that the devil or some
other gentleman of quality had Major Roger Sherman Potter, for then
he could preserve the good name of his patron saint.
Persons of every political hue and circumstance poured in, were
presented to the major, and drank of the liquors which were being
ordered without stint and despatched with the same freedom by the
honorable committee of reception. And thus they came, and drank
great draughts, and complimented one another. And although not a few
marveled at finding the major such a queer person, and quite unlike
what he had been represented, all joined in drinking his health and
flattering his vanity. And when it was ten o'clock, there came
divers delegations of ungainly persons, (from the custom house, and
the post office, and Tammany Hall, and various other halls,) such as
fighting men and vagabonds, who, being headed by such ambitious
politicians as the invincible George Branders, and flanked by the
too honest Emanuel Hart, presented an appearance so suspicious that
the guests of the house began to look well to their pockets, while
the landlord set several of his servants to gathering up the old
clothes. Indeed, it seemed as if rascaldom had broken from its
dominions to revel in the palace of St. Nicholas. And as all these
shabby gentlemen, but very excellent politicians, stood much in need
of something to quench their thirst, it was soon found that the
small sum set apart to pay the landlord for all his services, would
not even wipe out the score at his bar, to say nothing of the damage
done his furniture and other little affairs. He had given bed and
board to many a man without getting a dime in return, and thanked
heaven that good fortune had enabled him to do so, but now he was
not a little disturbed in his temper at the state of his accounts,
for he knew the city was as slow to pay an "over ordered" bill as it
was quick in paying homage to great demagogues. He therefore, in the
kindest manner, intimated to the major, that unless he would be
personally responsible for the "surplus," he must close the score at
his bar. And this he said in self-protection, for no man could lay
the charge of having done a mean act at his door. The major, with
becoming courtesy, pledged his honor to the landlord, and bid him
think no more of the bill, since if he closed the floodgate of his
bar, which gave out such exuberant medicine as made the tears of
patriots to flow, his power would surely be at an end. "Be not
agitated, sir," said he, with an air of enlarged self complacency,
"but convert your misgivings into confidence in me, for I see you
are a true republican, and would not harm a man whose fame is so
well established." Thus the major addressed the landlord, who
retired with regained confidence, and, as I thought, a feeling of
self reproach for having intimated his doubts in the matter.
The major was now getting weary with the mighty business of
receiving the compliments of ten score would-be patriots and noisy
politicians, when there entered a greater man than any of them. And
this was no less a person than Don Fernando, a man of much will and
circumstance, and now mayor of the city. Many things had been said
of this truly great man, not the least of which was, that the Romans
ought to be thankful that he was not born in the days of the Cæsars,
though in the honest yearnings of his ambition he had frequently
indulged in the thought, that his wisdom and invincibility of arm
was second to none of them. Indeed, it was said among other things,
equally true, that he had more than once consoled himself with the
fact, that if he had not gained the notoriety of Cæsar, it was no
fault of his will, for he could make promises he never meant to
keep, and gnash his teeth at his enemies, to an extent that ought to
satisfy the most enthusiastic admirer of Roman greatness. But
republicanism, as developed by the prudence of our people, had so
changed and altered things, that great men, though they had
performed unheard of deeds of valor, were laughed at when they
assumed powers not clearly belonging to them.
As the design of this history will be imperfect unless I record what
took place when these great men met, and which ought to be read and
considered by future generations, I must here inform the reader,
that he will find it faithfully translated in the next chapter.