XIII. JACKSON'S LAST YEAR IN THE WHITE HOUSE…

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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