XVI. THE CONSPIRACY TRIAL--THE GRAND REVIEWS
Andrew Johnson took the oath of office as President of the United States, administered to him by Chief Justice Chase, at his room in the Kirkwood House. He sent word to Mrs. Lincoln to occupy the White House so long as might be agreeable to her, and he accepted the hospitality of Mr. Sam Hooper, a merchant prince, who then represented a Boston district in the House of Representatives, and occupied his own comfortable house at the corner of Fourteenth and H Streets.
Every morning President Johnson went to the Treasury Department, where he received scores of delegations, and his speeches to them foreshadowed a reconstruction policy which would deal severely with the leading Secessionists. In response to Governor Andrew, who called at the head of a delegation of citizen of Massachusetts, and assured him of the support of the Old Bay State, he made a long speech, he defined crimes, saying: "It is time the American people should be taught to understand that treason is a crime--not in revenge, not in anger--but that treason is a crime, and should be esteemed as such, and punished as such."
Mr. Johnson went on to say that he wished "to discriminate between criminals guilty of treason. There are," he said, "well educated, intelligent traitors, who concert schemes of treason and urge others to force numbers of ignorant people to carry them."
Money was lavishly expended in securing the arrest of those who had conspired with Booth to assassinate President Lincoln, Vice- President Johnson, Secretary Seward, and General Grant. In a fortnight the prisoners had been arrested (with the exception of Booth, who having been tracked to a barn, and refusing to come out, had been shot) and a military commission had been organized for their trial in the old penitentiary near the Arsenal, where they were confined. It was clearly shown before the Commission, of which General David Hunter was President and General Joseph Holt the Judge Advocate, that leading Secessionists in Canada had supplied Booth with funds for the abduction of President Lincoln, but there was no proof that they were privy to the assassination.
Booth squandered the money received by him in coal-oil speculations, and in his attention to an estimable young lady, whose photograph was found in his pocket-book after his death, but whose name was honorably kept a secret. Mrs. Surratt naturally attracted the most attention as she entered the room where the Military Commission was held every morning, the iron which connected her ankles clanking as she walked. She was rather a buxom-looking woman, dressed in deep black, with feline gray eyes, which watched the whole proceedings. The evidence showed that she had been fully aware of the plot. Her house was used by Booth, Payne, Atzerott, and Harold as a meeting place. Her son went to Richmond and then to Canada with information, and he had only returned immediately before the assassination. He was in Washington that day and night, and four days later had reached Montreal. She took the arms to Surrattsville, to the tavern which she owned, and the day of the assassination rode out with a team Booth had furnished money to hire, to say that the arms she had left and the field-glass she took would be wanted that night. Payne, after attacking Secretary Seward, and vainly attempting to escape, had called at her house in the night, and sought admittance, but an officer was in charge, and Payne, not having a plausible explanation of his unseasonable call, was arrested. Mrs. Surratt was clearly shown to have been an actor in the plot, but many doubted whether she should have been hung, and regretted that neither her confessor nor her daughter was permitted to see President Johnson and ask his clemency.
The male prisoners, heavily ironed, were seated side by side in a dock interspersed with officers. Sam Arnold was of respectable appearance, about thirty years of age, with dark hair and beard and a good countenance. Spangler, the stage-carpenter, was a chunky, light-haired, rather bloated and whisky-soaked looking man. Atzerott had a decided lager beer look, with heavy blue eyes, light hair, and sallow complexion. O'Laughlin might have been taken for native of Cuba, short and slender, with luxuriant black locks, a delicate moustache and whiskers, and vivacious black eyes. Payne was the incarnation of a Roman gladiator, tall, muscular, defiant, with a low forehead, large blue eyes, thin lips, and black, straight hair, with much of the animal and little of the intellectual. Dave Harold was what the ladies call a pretty little man, with cherry cheeks, pouting lips, an incipient beard, dark hazel eyes, and dark, long hair. Last on the bench was Dr. Mudd, whose ankles and wrists were joined by chains instead of the unyielding bars which joined the bracelets and anklets of the others. He was about sixty years of age, with a blonde complexion, reddish face, and blue eyes.
The prisoners were allowed counsel and such witnesses as they desired to have summoned. The Commission concluded its labors on the 30th of June. On the 5th of July the President approved the finding and sentence, and ordered the hanging of Mrs. Surratt, Harold, Atzerott, and Payne to take place on the 7th. The sentence of execution was carried into effect, and Arnold, Mudd, Spangler, and O'Laughlin were sent to the Military Prison on the Dry Tortugas.
Meanwhile the victorious armies of the Union had been congregated at Washington, where they passed in review before President Johnson and General Grant, and then marched home and into history. On the 23d of May the "Army of the Potomac," and on the 24th the "Division of the Mississippi," swept through the metropolis for hours, the successive waves of humanity crested with gleaming sabres and burnished bayonets, while hundreds of bands made the air ring with patriotic music. Loyal voices cheered and loyal hands applauded as the heroic guardians of the national ark of constitutional liberty passed along. Neither did the legions of imperial Rome, returning in triumph along the Appian Way, or the conquering hosts of Napoleon the Great, when welcomed back from their Italian campaign by the Parisians, or the British Guards, when they returned from the Crimea, receive a more heartfelt ovation than was awarded to the laurel-crowned "Boys in Blue."
Great expectation concerning this review was indulged throughout the nation. This home-coming of the "Boys in Blue" was a matter interesting every hamlet of the North and almost every home. But more than the welcome was clustering about the scene. These grand armies and their famous leaders had become historic, and worthily so, for they had endured and achieved, and victory now was theirs. The newspapers proclaimed the grandeur of the coming event; the railroads extended their best accommodations to travelers, and the people responded in immense numbers. With the soldiery and the civilians, Washington was densely packed, but cheerful enthusiasm appeared on every side.
Two hundred thousand veteran troops, trained on a hundred battlefields, and commanded by the leading Generals of the service, were there to be reviewed by the Lieutenant-General who commanded them all, by the President of the United States, by his Cabinet, by the dignitaries of our own and other nations, and by the innumerable throng of private citizens whose homes had been saved, and whose hearts now beat with grateful joy.
In those proud columns were to march the Army of the Potomac, the Army of the James, the Army of Georgia, the Army of the Tennessee, and the cavalry led by the indomitable Phil. Sheridan. To behold such a spectacle men came from every portion of the North; fathers brought their sons to see this historic pageant, while historians, poets, novelists, and painters thronged to see the unparalleled sight and there to gather material and inspiration for their future works. In that great display were to march heroes whose names will live while history endures.
The night before the review of the Army of the Potomac was wet and dreary enough, but as day dawned the clouds disappeared, and the scene in Maryland Avenue, between the Long Bridge and the Capitol, and on the large plain east of that building, was warlike and interesting. Brigades marching at route step, bivouac fires, around which groups were eating their breakfast, orderly sergeants insisting in very naughty yet impressive language on the use of sand paper on muskets already bright, musicians rehearsing some new march, little boys bracing up drums half as high as themselves, important adjutants riding to and fro to hurry up the formation of their respective regiments, elegantly attired aides-de-camp galloping like mad and endeavoring to avoid mud puddles, batteries thundering along, as if eager to unlimber and fire at some enemy--in short, it was fifty acres, more or less, of uniforms, horses, flags, and bayonets, in apparently inextricable confusion. Yet one man ran the machine. A few words from him reduced confusion to order, and the apparent snarl of humanity and horses began to be unraveled in a single, unbroken line, when General Meade gave the single word, "Forward!" Exactly as the watches marked nine the head of the column moved from the Capitol toward the reviewing stand along Pennsylvania Avenue.
The reviewing stand, erected on the sidewalk in front of the White House, was a long pavilion, with a tight roof, decorated with flags and bearing the names of the principal victories won. In this pavilion were seated the assistant secretaries and heads of bureaus and Diplomatic Corps. President Johnson occupied the central chair in a projection from the centre of the front, with Lieutenant- General Grant, Major-General Sherman, and the members of the Cabinet at his right and left hand.
The reviewing pavilion was flanked by two long stands, occupied by officials, ladies, and wounded soldiers. Opposite the reviewing pavilion was another on the north sidewalk for Congressional and State officials, and on the flanks of this pavilion were others, erected at private expense, for the families of officers on parade and for the citizens of Ohio, New Jersey, Connecticut, and Massachusetts.
The Army of the Potomac was six hours in passing the reviewing stand. As each brigade commander saluted, President Johnson would rise and lift his hat. General Grant sat during the whole time immovable, except that he would occasionally make some commendatory comment as a gallant officer or brave regiment passed. The foreign Ministers appeared deeply impressed by the spectacle.
It was the subject of general regret in the Army of the Potomac that President Lincoln was not there to review those who idolized him. For four long years they had guarded him at the Federal metropolis, often fighting desperately under generals whose ability to command was doubtful. Meanwhile the dandies of McClellan's force had become veteran campaigners, accustomed to the exposure of the bivouac, the fatigue of the march, the poor comfort of hard- tack, the storm of battle, and the suffering of sickness and wounds. They had watched on many a picket line the movements of a wily foe; they paced their weary rounds on guard on many a wet and cheerless night; they had gone through the smoke and breasted the shock and turned the tide of many a hard-fought field.
The Division of the Mississippi, which had swept like a cyclone "from Atlanta to the sea," was reviewed the next day. General Sherman, by granting amnesty to Joe Johnson's army, had incurred the displeasure of Secretary Stanton, who had intended that he should not have headed his victorious legions; but he was not to be separated from his "boys." As he passed along Pennsylvania Avenue the multitude of spectators sent up shouts that must have made his heart leap, and the enthusiasm increased as he approached the Presidential stand. He "rode up with the light of battle in his face," holding his hat and his bridle-rein in his left hand, and saluting with the good sword in his right hand, his eyes fixed upon his Commander-in-Chief. His horse, decked with flowers, seemed to be inspired with the spirit of the occasion, and appeared anxious to "keep step to the music of the Union."
After passing the President, General Sherman wheeled to the left, dismounted, and joined the reviewing party, where he was greeted by Governor Dennison. He shook hands cordially with President Johnson and General Grant, but when Secretary Stanton advanced with outstretched hand he remarked, "I do not care to shake hands with clerks," and turned away. Never was there a more complete "cut direct" than was given by the central figure of that grand pageant, whose brain and hand had guided this vast multitude of stalwart braves, leading them to victory, glory, and final triumph.
The troops displayed a fine physique, and had apparently profited from their foraging among the fat turkeys of Georgia. Their faces were finely bronzed, and they marched with a firm, elastic step that seemed capable of carrying them straight to Canada, or by a flank movement to Mexico, in a short space of time.
Any representation of Sherman's army would have been incomplete which omitted the notorious "Bummers." At the end of each corps appeared the strangest huddle of animation, equine, canine, bovine, and human, that ever civilian beheld--mules, asses, horses, colts, cows, sheep, pigs, goats, raccoons, chickens, and dogs led by negroes blacker then Erebus. Every beast of burden was loaded to its capacity with tents, baggage, knapsacks, hampers, panniers, boxes, valises, kettles, pots, pans, dishes, demijohns, bird-cages, cradles, mirrors, fiddles, clothing, pickaninnies, and an occasional black woman.
In effect Sherman gave a sample of his army as it appeared on the march through the Carolinas. Some of the negroes appeared to have three days' rations in their ample pouches, and ten days' more on the animals they led. The fraternity was complete; the goats, dogs, mules, and horses were already veterans in the field, and trudged along as if the brute world were nothing but a vast march with a daily camp. Thus were we shown how Sherman was enabled to live upon the enemy.
[Facsimile] Yours truly John A. Logan JOHN A. LOGAN was born in Jackson County, Illinois, February 9th, 1826; studied and practiced law; was a member of the State Legislature; was a Representative from Illinois, 1859-1861; was commissioned in September, 1861, Colonel of the Thirty-first Illinois Volunteers; was promoted to Brigadier-General in 1862, and Major-General in 1863, especially distinguishing himself at Belmont, Fort Donelson, Pittsburgh Landing, Vicksburg, Chattanooga, Atlanta, and as commander of the Army of the Tennessee; was Congressman-at-Large from Illinois, 1867-1871; was United States Senator from Illinois, 1871-1877, again in 1883, and was re-elected in 1885, for six years.
XVII. PRESIDENT JOHNSON SURRENDERS
President Johnson was by nature and temperament squarely disposed toward justice and the right, but he could not resist the concerted appeals made to him by the dominant whites at the South. Early in May, rules were issued governing trade with the States lately in rebellion, but in June these restrictions were removed, and there rapidly followed executive orders restoring Virginia to her federal relations, establishing provisional governments in the Southern States, and granting a general amnesty to all persons engaged in the Rebellion, except certain classes, who could receive pardon by special application. These acts speedily alienated the President from the party whose votes elected him, but he was always "sure he was right, even in his errors."
Andrew Johnson's daily life as President was a very simple one. He arose promptly at six o'clock in the morning, read the newspapers, and breakfasted with his family at eight. Going into the executive office at nine, he remained there until four in the afternoon, devoting himself to conferences with Cabinet officers, his official correspondence, and the reception of visitors when he had leisure. At four o'clock he went into his family sitting-room, dined at five, and after dinner took a walk or a carriage-drive. From nine until eleven he received visitors, and then retired for the night. He had a few favorites who went into his room without being announced.
Prominent among them was Mr. S. P. Hanscom, of Massachusetts, who had been in early life a prominent Abolitionist and temperance lecturer. During the Johnson Administration Mr. Hanscom edited the Washington Republican, and obtained office for applicants for a pecuniary consideration. When Mr. Buffington refused to pay the stipulated fee for his appointment, Mr. Hanscom published a handbill, in which he unblushingly related the circumstances and denounced the ex-Congressman for breach of faith. Mr. Hanscom spent the large income which he received for office brokerage very freely. He was kind to the poor and a generous friend, but he died a few years afterward in reduced circumstances.
Jefferson Davis, the leader of the conquered Confederacy, had been brought from Georgia, where he was captured, and imprisoned at Fortress Monroe. He occupied the inner apartment of a casemate, with a guard in the outer apartment and sentries posted on the outside at the porthole and at the door. He became naturally somewhat irascible, and orders having been sent to put him in irons if he gave any provocation, he one day gave it by throwing a tin plate of food which he did not fancy into the face of the soldier who had served him.
Captain Titlow, who was especially charged with the custody of Mr. Davis, and who is the authority for this statement, was accordingly ordered by the Commandant of the fort to place his prisoner in irons. Summoning a blacksmith who was in the habit of riveting irons on soldiers sentenced by court-martial to wear them, the Captain went to the casemate, accompanied by the blacksmith carrying the fetters and his tools. They found Mr. Davis seated on his cot, there being no other furniture besides but a stool and a few articles of tinware. When he glanced at the blacksmith and comprehended the situation, he exclaimed: "My God! this indignity to be put on me! Not while I have life." At first he pleaded for opportunity to inquire of Secretary Stanton. Then his excitement rose to fury as he walked the cell, venting himself in almost incoherent ravings. The Captain at length calmly reminded him that as a soldier he must be aware that however disagreeable the duty assigned, it must be performed, and that, as in duty bound, he should perform it.
"None but a dog would obey such orders," replied Mr. Davis, emphasizing his determination never to be manacled alive by grasping the stool and aiming a very vicious blow. The sentries rushed forward to disarm him, but were ordered back into their places. Captain Titlow explained that such demonstrations of self-defense were foolish and useless, and that it would be much better for Mr. Davis to submit to the inevitable necessity. But while receiving this advice, Davis took the opportunity of grasping the musket of one of the sentries, and in the furious endeavor to wrest it from him, quite a scuffle ensued.
That ended, the Captain took the precaution of clapping his hand on his sword-hilt, as he perceived Mr. Davis' eye was upon it, and at once ordered the corporal of the guard to send into the casemate four of his strongest men without side arms, as he feared they might get into the wrong possession and cause damage. They were ordered to take the prisoner as gently as possible, and, using no unnecessary force, to lay him upon the cot and there hold him down. It proved about as much as four men could do, the writhings and upheavings of the infuriated man developing the strength of a maniac, until it culminated in sheer exhaustion. When the unhappy task was done Mr. Davis, after lying still for awhile, raised himself and sat on the side of the bed.
As his feet touched the floor and the chain clanked he was utterly overcome; the tears burst out in a flood. When he became calm he apologized in a manly way to the Captain for the needless trouble he had caused him, and they afterward maintained mutual relations of personal esteem and friendliness. The indignity had, however, such an effect upon Mr. Davis that the physician called in insisted on the removal of the irons. Permission to do this was reluctantly obtained from Washington, and the same man who had put on the fetters took them off.
This act did much to restore the deposed leader of the Rebellion to the foremost place, which he had forfeited, in the hearts of those who had rebelled. The imperious manner in which Mr. Davis had dictated the military operations of the Confederacy, placing his personal favorites in command, and his inglorious flight from Richmond, which was burned and plundered by the Confederates, while the fugitive "President" carried away a large sum in gold, had increased the feeling of dissatisfaction which had always existed in "Dixie" with Mr. Davis. But when he was ironed and otherwise subjected to harsh treatment, the Southern heart was touched, and every white man, woman, and child felt that they were, through him, thus harshly dealt with. The manacling of Mr. Davis delayed the work of reconstruction for years, and did much to restore the feeling of sectional hatred which fair fighting had overcome.
John Pierpont, the veteran parson-poet, came to Washington as the chaplain to Henry Wilson's regiment, but he found himself unable to endure the hardships of camp life, and Senator Sherman obtained a clerkship in the Treasury for him. When he reached his eightieth birthday, in 1866, he was told in the evening that a few friends had called, and on entering the parlor to greet them he was entirely surprised. One presented him with a gold watch, another with a valuable cane, and another with a large photograph-album containing the portraits of old Boston friends and parishioners. But the most valuable gift was a large portfolio filled with autograph letters of congratulation in poetry and prose from Sumner, Wilson, Mr. Sigourney, Whittier, Wood, Dana, Holmes, Whipple, and other prominent authors, with other letters signed Moses Williams, Gardner Brewer, William W. Clapp, and other "solid men of Boston." All old differences of opinion were forgotten and due honor was paid to the poet, the priest, the emancipationist, and the temperance reformer of "Auld Lang Syne."
Those who were encouraging the President in his opposition to the reconstruction policy of Congress, with others who had received or who expected to obtain Federal offices, got up at Philadelphia what was known as the "Bread and Butter Convention," at which the Union "as it was" was advocated. Soon afterward, President Johnson with Secretaries Seward and Welles, with General Grant and others, set out for Chicago to attend the ceremonies of laying the corner-stone of the monument to Stephen A. Douglas. It was this political pilgrimage that gave rise to the well-known expression, "swinging round the circle." The President spoke very freely of his policy in the different places on the route, openly denouncing Congress and saying many things that were decidedly inconsistent with the dignity of his position, and unquestionably injurious to him.
Senator Sumner was married at Boston on the 17th of October, 1866, by Bishop Eastman, to Mrs. Alice Hooper, a daughter of Jonathan Mason and the widow of Samuel Sturges Hooper, only son of Representative Sam Hooper. Mr. Sumner was then in the fifty-sixth year of his age, and had never before been a victim to the tender passion. Almost every day through the preceding session Mrs. Hooper had occupied a seat in the gallery directly behind him, and had appeared engrossed in his words and actions. They saw a good deal of each other at Mrs. Hooper's, where Mr. Sumner became a daily visitor, and on the last day of the session he announced his engagement to his friends.
The newly married couple passed their honeymoon at Newport, accompanied by the bride's young daughter. He finished a letter there to a friend by quoting from the Spectator, and saying: "I shall endeavor to live hereafter suitably to a man in my station, as a prudent head of a family, a good husband, a careful father (when it shall so happen), and as your most sincere friend, C. SUMNER."
The bridegroom little thought that these dreams of domestic happiness would never be realized, and that in a few months his life would be embittered by his great family trouble, which the world never guessed, much less knew, but which turned his love for his wife into hatred, and his hopes for handing his name to posterity into unforgiving anger. Senator and Mrs. Sumner, when they came to Washington after their marriage, occupied a handsomely furnished house on I Street. Mrs. Sumner at once manifested a fondness for "society," often insisting on remaining at receptions until a late hour, when he had unfinished Senatorial work on his desk that would have to be completed on his return home.
President Johnson suffered by his undue kindness to pardon-brokers, prominent among whom as a good-looking young woman named Mrs. Cobb. She was a constant visitor at the White House, and boasted that she could obtain pardons in six hours for a proper pecuniary consideration. Detective Baker worked up a fictitious case for the purpose of entrapping her. She agreed, in writing, for three hundred dollars, to obtain the pardon of a Captain Hine, receiving one hundred dollars cash down, the rest to be paid when the pardon was delivered. After the pardon was signed by President Johnson, Detective Baker laid the papers before him, upon which the President grew very angry, and finally ordered Detective Baker from the White House. Mrs. Cobb and her friends insisted that it was a "put-up" job, and the Grand Jury indicted Detective Baker, but the case was never brought to trial.
When Congress met in December, 1866, Representative James M. Ashley, of the Toledo district of Ohio, commenced operations as chief impeacher of President Johnson. He had begun life at an early age as a clerk on a trading-boat on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, driving sharp bargains with the plantation darkies on the banks, in the exchange of cheap jewelry and gay calicoes for cotton and eggs. Next he undertook to learn the art and mystery of printing, studying law meanwhile, and finally located at Toledo as the editor of a Democratic paper. He was not a success as an editor, and went from the sanctum into a drug-store, where he put up prescriptions "at all hours of the night." Joining the Republican party in its infancy, he obtained an election to Congress, but failed to create any sensation until he mounted the hobby of impeachment, which enabled him to advertise himself extensively, and without expense. He was a rather short, fat man, with a clean-shaven face, and a large shock of bushy, light hair, which he kept hanging over his forehead like a frowsy bang threatening to obstruct his vision. He passed much of his time in perambulating the aisles of the House, holding short conferences with leading Republicans, and casting frequent glances into the ladies' gallery. A man of the lightest mental calibre and most insufficient capacity, he constituted himself the chief impeacher, and assumed a position that should have been held by a strong-nerved, deep-sighted, able man.
The Supreme Court, on the last day of 1866, presented to the Radicals an unacceptable New Year's present in the shape of a decision on the legality of military commissions. The case was that of Lamden P. Milligan, who had been sentenced to death, and on whose appeal for setting aside his trial there had been a division of opinion between the Judges of the Circuit Court of the United States for the District of Indiana. The Supreme Court was unanimous in deciding that no authority existed in the State of Indiana for the trial of Milligan by a Military Commission, and that he was entitled to the discharge prayed for in his petition, his case coming within the strict letter of the law of Congress, passed in 1863, authorizing the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus. On the question whether Congress had a right to legalize military commissions in States where the authority and action of the established courts was unimpeded for the trial of civilians, there was a disagreement. Five of the judges held the affirmative, and four the negative. This decision made the leading Radicals very angry, and Thad. Stevens undertook to prepare a bill to remodel the court. Public opinion generally rejoiced at the suppression of unjust tribunals "organized to convict."
[Facsimile] Edwin MStanton SecofWar EDWIN McMASTERS STANTON was born at Steubenville, Ohio, December 19th, 1814; was graduated at Kenyon College in 1834; practiced law at Steubenville and afterward at Pittsburg; was Attorney-General under President Buchanan, December, 1860 - March, 1861; was Secretary of War under President Lincoln and Johnson, January, 1860 - May, 1868; was appointed Associate Justice of the Supreme Court by President Grant, and the appointment was promptly confirmed by the Senate, but before the commission was issued he died, December 24th, 1869.
XVIII. WASHINGTON CELEBRITIES
When President Johnson occupied the White House he was joined by the ladies of his family. Mrs. Johnson had been an invalid for twenty years, and although she could not go into society on account of her ill-health, her pride was amply gratified in the advancement of her husband, whom she had taught to read when he was a village tailor and had won her heart. Her only appearance in public at the White House was at a party given to her grand-children. She then remained seated, and as the young guests were presented to her she would say, "My dears, I am an invalid," which was fully proven by her careworn, pale face, and her sunken eyes.
Mrs. Patterson, the President's eldest daughter, was the wife of David T. Patterson, who was elected United States Senator from Tennessee soon after Mr. Johnson became President. She had been educated where so many daughters of the South have been, at the Academy of the Visitation in Georgetown, and while her father was in the Senate she had remained there, spending her weekly holidays with President Polk's family in the White House. There she met Mrs. Madison, the Blairs, Lees, and other old families of Washington, many of whom, in later years, gladly welcomed her return to Washington. She was thus early introduced into Washington social life, and the people who imagined that Andrew Johnson's family were to prove a millstone about his neck forgot that Martha Patterson was his daughter. When some of the leaders of Washington society undertook to call at the White House and tender their patronage, Mrs. Patterson quietly remarked to them: "We are a plain people from the mountains of East Tennessee, called here for a short time by a national calamity, but we know our position and shall maintain it." Mrs. Storer was President Johnson's other daughter, and the widowed mother of young children. A son, Robert Johnson was very dear to his father, but Mrs. Patterson was his favorite child, as she possessed his mental characteristics.
In the great struggle which ensued between the President and Congress, the Senate was really under the leadership of Roscoe Conkling, although Sumner, Fessenden, and Wade, each regarded himself as the head of the Republicans in the Upper House. Mr. Conkling was at that time a type of manly beauty. Tall, well made, with broad shoulders and compact chest and an erect carriage, he was always dressed with scrupulous neatness, wearing a dark frock- coat, light-colored vest and trousers, with gaiters buttoned over his shoes. His nose was large and prominent, his eyes of a bluish- gray hue, surmounted by heavy dark auburn eyebrows, his side whiskers curled closely, and his hair ran down with a sharp point into the middle of his broad, bald forehead, where it rose in a curl. His language was elegant, and when he spoke on the floor every word was clearly enunciated, while slow and deliberate gestures lent effect to what he said. At times, when his features would light up with animation, his deep nostrils would quiver and lengthen into the expression of scorn, which would often lash an opponent into fury. His manner toward strangers was at times dictatorial, but his personal friends worshiped him, and they have never thrown off their allegiance.
Oliver P. Morton, the "War Governor" of Indiana, entered the Senate in time to take a prominent part in resisting the arrogant claims of President Johnson. He had found it difficult to ascend from the vale of poverty, but with indomitable energy he had overcome all obstacles. The promptness, the vigor, and thorough manner with which he discussed every question upon which he took hold soon won him the respect of his associates, to which was added their sympathy, caused by his physical condition. Possessed of an extraordinary physique and an iron constitution, he gradually lost the use of his lower limbs without a murmur, and after he was hopelessly crippled he moved about on his canes with a herculean effort. He spoke with great power, his penetrating eyes flashing with patriotism as he plead the cause of the emancipated, or flashing with anger as with withering denunciation and sarcasm he denounced their oppressors. His mind was especially utilitarian and his speeches were more remarkable for common sense than for the flowers of rhetoric or the brilliancy or oratory. With indomitable perseverance and pluck he possessed a large heart, and his charities were freely given.
George F. Edmunds, of Vermont, was another Senator who took his seat in time to participate in the great contest with President Johnson, in which the fruits of the war were at stake. He was not a college graduate, yet few men have acquired a broader culture from contact with men and the study of books. Tall and spare in figure, his bald head and flowing white beard gave him a resemblance to the classic portrait of St. Jerome, but, unlike that portrait, his head is dome-shaped, symmetrical, while his temples are wide apart and full between. He debates a question in a clear, half- conversational manner, occasionally indulging in a dash of sarcasm which makes those Senators who are the objects of it wince. What he says goes into the Congressional Record without any revision or correction, although many other members of Congress pass a deal of time in revising, polishing, and correcting the reports of their remarks. Invaluable in opposition and almost irresistible in assault, Senator Edmunds has always been regarded by the Republicans in the Senate as their "tower of strength" when the political horizon was overcast.
Zach Chandler, the merchant-Senator from Michigan, who was attaining high rank in the Republican councils, was justly proud of his business standing as a dry-goods dealer in Detroit, and he used to narrate how, when almost every business man there failed, in 1837, he could not see his way clear to the settlement of his own liabilities. He made a statement of his affairs, and, taking what money he could raise, went to New York and proposed to his creditors there to make an assignment. His principal creditor said to him: "You are too straightforward a man and too honest and enterprising a merchant to go under. You can take your own time for payment, and we will furnish you with a new stock of goods." The young merchant accepted the extension of time, and, going home, went to work again and was soon able to pay all his debts in full.
Senator Anthony, of Rhode Island, was a model Senator. Endowed by nature with a gracious presence, integrity, and good sense, what he had to say on any question was always listened to with attention on both sides of the Senate Chamber. He excelled in the felicitous eulogies which he was called upon to deliver over departed associates. "The shaft of Death, Mr. President," said he on one of these occasions, "has been buried in this Chamber of late with fearful frequency, sparing neither eminence nor usefulness nor length of service. No one can predict where it will next strike, whose seat will next be vacated. With our faces to the setting sun, we tread the declining path of life, and the shadows lengthen and darken behind us. The good, the wise, the brave fall before our eyes, but the Republic survives. The stream of events flows steadily on, and the agencies that seemed to direct and control its current, to impel or to restrain its force, sink beneath its surface, which they disturb scarcely by a ripple."
Senator Nye, of Nevada--Jim Nye--sat for years at the right hand of Charles Sumner in the United States Senate, and used to delight in making comments on what transpired in language that was not agreeable to the fastidious Senator from Massachusetts, who would listen in a stately embarrassment which was delightful to Nye to witness, not wishing to show any offense, and yet thoroughly disgusted. Nye wasn't particularly witty in debate, and the speeches of Proctor Knott, McCreery, or Sam Cox were funnier than his; neither had he any Senatorial dignity whatever. He had, in its place, a vast store of humor and genial humanity--better articles, that brought him in love all that he lost in respect. He had more humor than wit, although many of his good things possessed the sharp scintillations of the last-mentioned article, as when Horace Greeley sat down on the Senator's new hat, and Nye, picking up the crushed stove-pipe, said, gravely, "I could have told you it wouldn't fit before trying it on." He had little or no literary culture, read few books, and never troubled others with his convictions, if he had any, which was doubtful. He was a Falstaff of the nineteenth century, and it could be said of him, as Prince Hal said of his boon companion, "We could better spare a better man."
Mr. Elihu B. Washburne was the "Father of the House," and the man who had brought forward General Grant at a time when the Republic was sorely in need of such a man. Thad Stevens ruled the weak- kneed Republicans with a rod of iron, and never hesitated about engaging in a political intrigue that would benefit the party, as he understood its mission. Benjamin F. Butler was another power in the House, who delighted to engage in a debate, with copious invective interlinings, and who was more feared on the Republican side of the House than on the Democratic. And then there was Oakes Ames, a blunt, honest man, whose perceptions of right and wrong were not cloaked, but who placed his "Credit Mobilier" shares "where they would do the most good."
In the House of Representatives, Mr. Speaker Colfax presided in rather a slap-dash-knock-'em-down-auctioneer style, greatly at variance with the decorous dignity of his predecessors, and he was ever having an eye to the nomination for Vice-President in 1869. The most popular man in the House was unquestionably James G. Blaine, who exercised a fascination over all, and whose occasional speeches were marked by their purity of style, their terseness, and the strength of their arguments. His then graceful as well as powerful figure, his strong features, glowing with health, and his hearty, honest manner, made him an attractive speaker and an esteemed friend. Whatever might be said about some of his railroad speculations, no one ever lisped a syllable against his private character, nor was there in Washington a more devoted husband, a more affectionate father, or a kinder friend.
Once, when Mr. Tucker, of Virginia, was addressing the House, Mr. Blaine rose and questioned him concerning the accuracy of his statements. Mr. Tucker's reply implied that he doubted Mr. Blaine's ability to pass correct judgment on legal subjects, as that gentleman was not a lawyer. Blaine's memory enabled him to rejoin by reminding the distinguished member from Virginia of some egregious blunder committed by Mr. Tucker when filling the Attorney-Generalship of the Old Dominion, and he concluded by saying that if the commission of such a mistake was the result of being a lawyer, he, at least, congratulated himself on not belonging to the legal fraternity. Mr. Tucker thereupon said that his honorable friend from Maine reminded him of the Pharisee in the parable, apparently thanking his Deity for having created him unlike--"You," broke in Mr. Blaine, who had seated himself in the semicircle immediately in front of Mr. Tucker's desk. This telling interruption was greeted with roars of laughter, which completely drowned further remarks from the Virginian, most noted as a constitutional lawyer and as a wit.
A high tribute to Mr. Blaine's personal ability and popularity was paid in his election as Speaker of three successive Congresses, covering a period from March 4th, 1869, to March 4th, 1875. On the latter date, when by party changes it had become evident that a Democratic Speaker would succeed him, Mr. Blaine made a neat valedictory in adjourning the session, and as he declared the adjournment and dropped his gavel, a scene of tumultuous enthusiasm ensued. The crowded assemblage, floor and galleries, rose and greeted him with repeated salvos of applause, running in waves from side to side, with almost delirious cheering, clapping of hands, and waving of handkerchiefs. Fully five minutes, it seemed, he was detained, bowing and acknowledging with emotion, this tribute to the record he had made, and for full half an hour afterward there poured toward his standing place, at the clerk's desk, a constant stream of members and citizens anxious to press his hand and express in words the admiration already shown in signs. None who were there can forget the impression made by this scene.
Fernando Wood, of New York, was the best known man on the Democratic side of the House, nor was there a bureau official in the War Department who had such a military deportment. Tall, spare, erect, with clothes of faultless fit and closely buttoned to the chin, his hair cut short and his face cleanly shaven, with the exception of a heavy white moustache, he was the beau ideal of a colonel of the Old Guard. His manners were as courtly as were those of Lord Chesterfield, while his features were as immovable and emotionless as were those of Talleyrand. In his earlier days "Fernandy Wud" was identified with the lowest element of New York politics, and his political reputation was so unsavory that his own party twice, when opportunity offered, refused to elect him Speaker, a place to which he was entitled by seniority. On several occasions he was denounced virulently in debate, but he stood up "like a little man" and faced his assailants with features as imperturbable as if they were carved from marble. Mr. Wood's ambition was to be chosen Speaker when the revolutions of Fortune's wheel would again give the Democratic party the ascendency. This prompted him to entertain very liberally, and he used to receive many promises of support, but when the caucus was held, he never received over half a dozen votes.
[Facsimile] HBAnthony HENRY BOWEN ANTHONY was born at Coventry, Rhode Island, April 1st, 1815; was editor of The Providence Journal; was Governor of Rhode Island, 1849-1850; was United States Senator, 1859, until his death at Providence, Rhode Island, September 2d, 1884.
XIX. CEREMONIALS AT THE METROPOLIS
The New Year's reception at the White House, at the opening of 1866, was marked by the absence of volunteer officers in uniform, who had, since the breaking out of the war, always been present in large numbers. The East Room was not thrown open, but the suite of drawing-rooms, which had been re-decorated and newly furnished, were much admired. The traditional colors of scarlet, blue, and green had been preserved, but the walls had been painted with gilt moldings, and the furniture was far more elegant than was that which it had replaced. There was also a profusion of rare flowers from the conservatory.
The President received in the Blue Drawing-room, and it was a subject of general remark that age and official perplexities were evidently leaving their traces on his features, but he had lost none of his determined, defiant looks. During the more ceremonious part of the reception his two daughters stood near him. Mrs. Stover wore a rich black silk dress, with a basque of the same material, both being embroidered with violet-colored wreaths and trimmed with bugles. Mrs. Patterson wore a similar dress and basque, embroidered in white. Both ladies wore lace collars and had natural flowers in their hair.
The privileged guests began to arrive at eleven o'clock, the Diplomatic Corps taking precedence. They wore the official costumes of their respective courts, with the exception of Mr. De Romero, the Mexican Envoy, who was attired in a plain black suit. Sir Frederick Bruce and Mr. De Berthemy, the bachelor representatives of Great Britain and of France, were naturally objects of attraction to the ladies. M. Tassara, the Spanish Minister, and Baron Von Geroldt, the Prussian Minister, were accompanied by their wives, as was young M. De Bodisco, who represented Russia as Charge d'Affaires. The South Americans were famously bedizened with embroideries, and nearly all of the Ministers, Secretaries, and attaches wore the broad ribbons of some order of merit across their right shoulders, or crosses upon their breasts. Some of them sported at least a dozen of these honorary decorations.
The Cabinet officers with their ladies next entered, and after them came the commanding figure of Chief Justice Chase, followed by the Justices of the Supreme Court and the local Judges. Members of Congress came next in order, but there were not many present. Assistant Secretaries, heads of bureaus, and chief clerks followed; and then, the band striking up the "Red, White, and Blue," Admiral Radford entered with a large party of naval officers, among them Admirals Davis and Stribling, with Colonel Ziellen and the other officers of marines stationed in Washington, all in full uniform.
"Hail to the Chief" announced General Grant, who was attended by Adjutant-General Thomas, Quartermaster-General Meigs, Paymaster- General Brice, Surgeon-General Barnes, and some fifty or sixty officers of lower grade, all in full uniform, and many of them who only performed bureau duty were arrayed in epaulettes and embroidery of the most stunning description. This comprised the official presentations, and many of those above named were accompanied by ladies, elegantly attired in full morning costumes, some of which, worn by the ladies of the Diplomatic Corps, were very elegant.
At twelve o'clock the officials took their leave, and the people were admitted. For two hours did a living tide of humanity surge through the rooms, each man, woman, and child being presented and shaking hands with the President as they passed him. There was almost every conceivable variety of dress, and every part of the country, with many foreign lands, was represented. A more promiscuous company had never yet attended a White House reception, than that which gathered on this occasion. But one colored man sought an introduction to the "Moses" of his race, and he was civilly treated by the President and those in attendance.
The reception at the house of General Grant was crowded. Among the other visitors was Hon. Sam Hooper, the merchant Representative from Boston, who handed the General a letter signed by himself and forty-nine other "solid men of Boston," presenting a library of well-selected books, which had cost five thousand dollars.
George Bancroft's eulogy on Abraham Lincoln attracted crowds to the hall of the House of Representatives. The occasion was indeed a memorable one, equaled only by the exercises in the old hall on the last day of 1834, when that "Old Man Eloquent" of Massachusetts, John Quincy Adams, occupied nearly three hours in the delivery of his grand oration on Lafayette, which covered the history of the preceding half century. Henry Clay, who was on that occasion Chairman of the Joint Committee of Arrangements on the part of the Senate, had ten years before, as Speaker of the House, welcomed Lafayette as the nation's guest. Mr. Adams, in eloquently alluding to this impressive scene, said that few of those who received Lafayette were alive to shed the tear of sorrow upon his departure from this earthly scene. Neither was there a member of Congress who joined in the memorial exercises to Lafayette to pay a farewell to Lincoln. There were a few present who heard the orator eulogize Jackson, and a few more who were present at the impressive funeral services of John Quincy Adams, who had fallen at his post in that glorious old hall, in which his voice, like that of John the Baptist, had proclaimed
"The coming of the glory of the Lord."
An incessant rain did not detract in the least from an immense attendance at the Capitol, although no one was admitted without a ticket. Notwithstanding the precautions taken, over three hundred tickets were issued beyond the utmost capacity of the House galleries, which were literally packed long before the ceremonies commenced. The audience, seemingly, was as select as it was large, and the attendance of many ladies gave to the occasion as brilliant and fascinating an interest as did the distinguished guests on the floor of the House. The hall was appropriately draped in mourning over the Speaker's chair and at other points.
Prominent on the front seats of the ladies' gallery were Mrs. General Grant, Mrs. Patterson and Mrs. Stover (the President's daughters), Mrs. Daniel Webster, Mrs. Admiral Dahlgren, and others equally famed in society. The floor of the House was divided into sections for the reception of the distinguished guests. All of the dignitaries were duly announced by the Sergeant-at-Arms as they appeared in a body at the main door of the hall. The House rose in compliment as they entered, and remained standing until the guests were duly seated. The Diplomatic Corps, with the exception of the French Minister and the Mexican Minister, were present in full force. Sir Frederick Bruce, the Spanish Minister, and the Russian Minister, occupied the front row of seats of the section assigned to the Diplomatic Corps. Lieutenant-General Grant sat in company with Admiral Shubrick, in front of the large delegation from the army and navy. There was a buzz in the hall and a quiet laugh as General Butler entered and unconsciously took a seat immediately behind General Grant; neither greeted the other. In the rear of General Butler General John A. Logan was sandwiched with General Holt and John Minor Botts.
At noon Sergeant-at-Arms Ordway entered bearing the official mace, and he was followed by Mr. Speaker Colfax. A rap from the Speaker's gavel brought the assembly to order, and a solemn and very appropriate prayer was offered by Mr. Chaplain Boynton. The journal of the last day's session was then read, followed by a letter from Secretary Seward apologizing for his absence.
The hum of conversation again echoed around the galleries, with the craning of fair necks and the peering of bright, curious eyes as the ladies sought to see who were there and what was worn. At ten minutes after twelve the doorkeeper announced the Senate of the United States. Mr. Speaker Colfax repeated the announcement with the familiar raps of the gavel, which on this occasion brought all on the floor to their feet. Sergeant-at-Arms Brown led the way, then came Mr. Foster, President pro tempore, with Chief Clerk McDonald, and then came the Senators, two and two, who took seats on either side of the main aisle.
The inner half-circle of chairs was as yet unoccupied. President Foster, receiving the gavel from Speaker Colfax, said: "Please be seated," and a rap was again obeyed. A few moments elapsed, during which the occupants of the galleries had time to scan the countenances of the eloquent guardians of the Union and champions of freedom, whose voices had been and might again be heard as a battle-cry in the dark days of our eventful history.
The President of the United States was announced, and the audience rose to receive the Chief Magistrate. He was attired in simple black, and as he passed between the Senators down to the front seat reserved for him, escorted by Senator Foote, he reminded one of Webster and of Douglas, so immovable was the expression of his massive, resolute, determined features. The President took his seat directly opposite the Speaker, and the seats at his right hand were occupied by Secretaries McCulloch, Stanton, Welles, Harlan, Postmaster-General Dennison, and Attorney-General Speed. Secretary Seward's health was so precarious that it did not permit him to be present.
Mr. Bancroft entered with the President and was escorted to the clerk's table, on which a reading-desk had been placed for his use. Before taking his seat he shook hands with President Foster and Mr. Speaker Colfax, who sat side by side at the Speaker's table, directly behind the orator.
The Supreme Court was next announced, and all rose to pay homage to the majesties of the law. They wore their silk robes and took the front row of seats on the President's left hand in the following order: Chief Justice Chase, Justices Wayne, Nelson, Clifford, Swayne, Miller, Davis, and Fields. Justice Grier's recent family bereavement kept him away.
Just after the Supreme Court was seated the President and Justice Clifford rose, advanced toward each other, and cordially shook hands. This made it twenty minutes past twelve, and, as all were present, Major French, the Commissioner of Public Buildings, gave a signal, and the Marine Band performed, with impressive effect, the Miserere, from the opera "Il Trovatore." The Chaplain of the House, Rev. Dr. Boynton, made a most orthodox and righteous introductory prayer, after with Hon. Lafayette S. Foster, in a brief but eloquent address, introduced the orator of the day.
Mr. Bancroft was received, on rising, with hearty applause, and he commenced the delivery of his address in a clear, loud, and distinct tone of voice, heard in every part of the hall. He held his printed address in his left hand, and his sincerity and ability compensated for the absence of oratorical grace. His was the simplicity of faith rather than the simplicity of art, and by easy and rapid transitions it occasionally rose to bold and manly enthusiasm. The oration occupied two hours and thirty minutes, and at certain points was most rapturously applauded. The allusions by the orator to Great Britain's harboring rebel vessels during the war, and to the insignificance of Palmerston in comparison to Lincoln, did not seem to be well received by the British Minister, and his uneasiness was very manifest when the House thundered with repeated applause at the mention of the names of John Bright and Richard Cobden. On the other hand, the Russian Minister blushed at the continued applause and the thousands of eyes bent on him as Bancroft alluded to the unwavering sympathy of Russia with the United States during the late war. Baron Stoeckel congratulated the orator after the ceremonies were over.
When Mr. Bancroft had concluded, and the President and the Senate, with other invited guests, had retired, Mr. Washburne offered a joint resolution of thanks to Mr. Bancroft, copied almost verbatim from that passed when John Quincy Adams delivered the oration on Lafayette. When the address was printed Mr. Bancroft insisted on having the title-page state that it had been delivered before "the Congress of America," instead of "the Congress of the United States of America."
[Facsimile] Winfd S. Hancock WINFIELD SCOTT HANCOCK, born near Norristown, Pa., February 14th, 1824; graduated at West Point in 1844; served on the frontier, in the Mexican and Florida Wars, and in California; Brigadier-General of Volunteers, September 23d, 1861; Major-General of Volunteers, November 20th, 1862; commander of Second Corps, May, 1863; wounded at Gettysburg, July 3d, 1863; returned to his command and fought to the end of the war; Major-General of the regular army, July, 1866; commanded various military divisions; candidate for Presidency of the United States, 1880; died at Governor's Island, New York, February 9th, 1886.
XX. THE GREAT IMPEACHMENT
The gulf between President Johnson and Congress gradually widened after the reconstruction bill was passed over his veto, although his friends announced that while he opposed the act and had resisted its passage, it was the law of the land, and he would fairly execute it. He appointed Generals Sheridan, Sickles, and Pope to carry out its provisions, and he was regarded as an obstinate man patriotically performing an unpleasant duty. Then he began to doubt, and Attorney-General Stanbery, aided by Judge Jere Black, declared that the Reconstruction Act was not legal, and that the military commanders at the South were merely policemen. Congress met in midsummer and made the act more stringent in its provisions. The President's advisers then counseled him to change those who were executing the provisions of the act at the South. Stanton was removed from the War Department and Grant appointed in his place, Sheridan was replaced by Hancock, and Sickles and Pope were relieved from duty. When the Senate met, it overruled the deposition of Mr. Stanton, and General Grant gracefully retired that the "War Secretary" might assume the duties of his office. This made President Johnson very angry. He had wanted to use General Grant as a cat's-paw for keeping Stanton out of the War Department, and had hoped at the same time to injure Grant in the estimation of the people. He raised a question of veracity with the General commanding, but Congress and the people speedily decided between the soldier, whose reputation for veracity was untarnished, and the President, who had broken his promises and had betrayed his friends.
Sir Frederick Bruce, the British Minister to the United States, died suddenly at a hotel in Boston, on the 19th of September, 1867. He had been attacked with diphtheria at Narragansett Pier, and had gone to Boston for medical advice, but he arrived too late. He recognized Senator Sumner, who hastened to his bedside, but was unable to speak to him. Sir Frederick was the younger brother of Lord Elgin. He was born in 1814, was educated at Christ's Church College, Oxford, and subsequently was called to the bar at Lincoln's Inn. Educated for the diplomatic service, he began his career in Lord Ashburton's suite, when he came to Washington in 1842, on his special mission regarding the north-eastern boundary question. At this time Rufus Choate said of him that he was "the Corinthian part of the British Legation." He was then employed in the diplomatic service until he was appointed in 1865 to succeed Lord Lyons as British Minister in Washington, and was presented to President Johnson immediately after the funeral of President Lincoln. While in China his official relations with the Hon. Anson Burlingame ripened into personal intimacy, and on the visit of the latter home there were reciprocated between these gentlemen the most cordial expressions of respect and friendship. He lived in excellent style in Washington, was very hospitable to his acquaintances and friends, whom he frequently entertained at his well-spread table, and was noted for that love of horses which has almost become a passion with Englishmen. To the public in general the deceased wore that stiff and formal appearance which characterizes the class of his countrymen to which he belonged, but in private life he is said to have been very social, conversational, and entertaining.
Mrs. Lincoln created an excitement in the autumn of 1867 by offering for sale, in a small up-stairs room on Broadway, in New York, what purported to be her wardrobe while she was at the White House. Ladies who inspected it said that the object of this exhibition could not have been to realize money from the sale of the collection. With the exception of some lace and camel's-hair shawls, and a few diamond rings, there was nothing which any lady could wear, or which would not have been a disgrace to a second-hand clothes shop; the dresses--those that had been made up and worn--were crushed, old-fashioned, and trimmed without taste. The skirts were too short for any but a very short person, and of the commonest muslins, grenadines, and bareges; all were made extremely low in the neck, and could not be available for any purpose. There were some brocaded silk skirts in large, heavy patterns, which had been made but not worn, but these were unaccompanied by any waists, while the price put upon them and the other articles was exorbitant. The opinion was that the exhibition was intended to stimulate Congress to make Mrs. Lincoln a large appropriation. Those Republicans who had subscribed to the fund of one hundred thousand dollars paid to Mrs. Lincoln after the death of her lamented husband were very angry. The general opinion was that the exhibition was an advertising dodge which some of Mrs. Lincoln's indiscreet friends had persuaded her to adopt.
Thurlow Weed created a decided sensation by taking up the cudgels in defense of his party, and published a letter stating that the Republicans, through Congress, "would have made proper arrangements for the maintenance of Mrs. Lincoln had she so deported herself as to inspire respect." He further intimated "that no President's wife ever before accumulated such valuable effects, and that those accumulations are suggestive of 'fat contracts and corrupt disposal of patronage.'" He continued, that "eleven of Mr. Lincoln's new linen shirts were sold" almost before the remains, which were shrouded in the twelfth, had started "for the bourne from whence no traveler returns." Not only was Mr. Weed censured in this country, but in England. The London Telegraph said: "To attack Mrs. Lincoln is to insult the illustrious memory of Abraham Lincoln, and to slander a gentle lady. Far and wide she has been known as an admirable and charitable woman, an irreproachable wife, and a devoted mother. She is entitled to more than 'respect' from the American people. They owe her reverence for her very name's sake. If fifty thousand swords were to have leapt from their scabbards to avenge the slightest insult offered to Marie Antoinette, a million of American hearts and hands would be quick to relieve the wants of the widow of the Emancipator; and if this deplorable tale could be true, which we decline to believe, the American public wants no stimulus from abroad to take such an incident at once from the evil atmosphere of electioneering, and to deal with the necessities of Abraham Lincoln's family in a manner befitting the national dignity."
The impeachment of President Johnson was loudly demanded by Wade, Butler, Thad. Stevens, and other ultra radicals when Congress met in December, 1867. "Why," said Mr. Stevens, "I'll take that man's record, his speeches, and his acts before any impartial jury you can get together, and I'll make them pronounce him either a knave or a fool, without the least trouble." He continued: "My own impression is that we had better put it on the ground of insanity or whisky or something of that kind. I don't want to hurt the man's feelings by telling him that he is a rascal. I'd rather put it mildly, and say he hasn't got off that inauguration drunk yet, and just let him retire to get sobered."
President Johnson, with an equally unfortunate want of reticence, denounced Congress, and finally again issued an order removing Mr. Stanton and appointing Adjutant-General Thomas Secretary of War. Senator Sumner at once telegraphed to Mr. Stanton, "Stick," and many believed that a scene of violence would soon be witnessed at the War Department.
What did occur, however, was simply ludicrous. General Thomas went to Mr. Stanton's office, we are told by Adjutant-General Townsend, and formally announced that he was Secretary of War, to which Mr. Stanton replied, "You will attempt to act as Secretary of War at your peril." General Thomas then went into General Shriver's room, and Mr. Stanton soon followed him there. Resuming the colloquy, Mr. Stanton said, in a laughing tone, to General Thomas: "So you claim to be here as Secretary of War, and refuse to obey my orders, do you?" General Thomas replied, seriously, "I do so claim. I shall require the mails of the War Department to be delivered to me, and shall transact all the business of the Department." Seeing that the General looked as if he had had no rest the night before, Mr. Stanton, playfully running his fingers up through the General's hair, as he wearily leaned back in his chair, said: "Well, old fellow, have you had any breakfast this morning?" "No," said Thomas, good-naturedly. "Nor anything to drink?" "No." "Then you are as badly off as I am, for I have had neither." Mr. Stanton then sent out for some refreshments, and while the two were sharing the refection they engaged in very pleasant conversation, in the course of which, however, Mr. Stanton suddenly and with seeming carelessness inquired when General Thomas was going to give him the report of an inspection, which he had lately made, of the newly completed national cemeteries. Mr. Stanton said if it was not soon rendered it would be too late for the printers, and he was anxious to have it go forth as a credible work of the Department. The question had apparently no especial point, and General Thomas evidently saw none, for he answered, pleasantly, that he would work at the report that night and give it to the Secretary. "This struck me," said General Townsend, "as a lawyer's ruse to make Thomas acknowledge Stanton's authority as Secretary of War, and that Thomas was caught by it. I some time after asked Mr. Stanton if that was his design. He made no reply, but looked at me with a mock expression of surprise at my conceiving such a thing."
The Senate at once declared that the President had exceeded his authority, and the House of Representatives passed a resolution-- 126 yeas to 47 nays--that he be impeached for high crimes and misdemeanors. The House agreed to the articles of impeachment March 3d, 1868, and the Senate received them two days later. They specified his removal of Secretary Stanton, his publicly expressed contempt for the Thirty-ninth Congress, and his hindrances to the execution of its measures, as acts calling for his impeachment. The trial began in the Senate, sitting as a high court of impeachment, on March 23d. The managers of the trial on the part of the accusation were Thaddeus Stevens, B. F. Butler, John H. Bingham, George S. Boutwell, J. F. Wilson, T. Williams, and John A. Logan, all members of the House; for the President, appeared Attorney-General Henry Stanbery, Benjamin R. Curtis, Jeremiah S. Black, William M. Evarts, and Thomas A. R. Nelson.
The formulated charges were eleven in number, but only three were voted upon, two of these concerning that one item of Secretary Stanton's attempted removal and the other concerning the President's expressed contempt of Congress. The latter charge was based on language used by Mr. Johnson in a public speech in which Congress was characterized as a Congress of only part of the States, and not a constitutional Congress, with intent, as was charged, of denying that its legislation was obligatory upon him, or that it had any power to propose amendments to the Constitution.
The trial from its very inception to a great extent assumed a party character, the Republican party having strongly condemned the action and utterances complained of, while the Democratic party approved and defended them. On the final issue, however, seven of the Republican Senators refused to vote for conviction, and an acquittal followed. A question of importance on the trial was, whether the President pro tem. of the Senate, who in the event of a conviction would become President, had a right to vote; but he claimed and exercised the right. Many members, however, handled the entire subject very delicately, feeling that the precedents were not very safe and sure.
Chief Justice Chase presided with great dignity, but the Senators retained their comfortable arm-chairs, instead of being ranged on a judicial bench, and were often engaged in letter-writing during the arguments. The managers occupied seats at a table on one side of the area before the table of the presiding officer, and the accused's counsel had a table on the other side. Seats were provided for the Representatives in the rear of the Senators.
The most noticeable argument on either side was that of Mr. Evarts, one of the counsel retained by the President's friends, who raised a large sum of money by subscription to secure his acquittal. Mr. Evarts was then fifty years of age, and his three days' speech was an oration rather than an argument. Tall, slender, with a high, round head, expressive eyes, and long, slender arms, he spoke without any emotion, continually indulging in fearfully long sentences.
Even his review of Mr. Manager Boutwell's astronomical proposition of a "hole in the sky," though it provoked shouts of laughter, was overdone. The subject was so good that he kept piling sentence upon sentence on it, and his phrase, "the honorable and astronomical manager," never failed to excite merriment. Boutwell bore it well, though disturbed. Like other men of logical habit of mind, when proposing to ornament his production with something imaginative, he struck upon the extravagant, and, feeling that he was doing a fantastic thing, gave rein to fancy.
An amusing feature of Mr. Evarts' argument was his illustration of "the proprieties of speech, as shown by the official report of the debates." He read from the Congressional Globe that Senator Sumner had called Andrew Johnson an "enemy of his country," and had been called to order. Senator Anthony, in the chair, said that it was usual and proper to call the President an enemy of his country, and Senator Sherman scouted the idea that Senator Sumner was out of order, saying that he had heard such language in the Senate fifty times. Senators were a good deal amused at this exhibition of their record. Then Mr. Evarts turned to the record of the House as to the propriety of speech, and there was a general stir and smile, as if to say, "Here's richness." The celebrated passage between Bingham and Butler, about murdering Mrs. Surratt, and Fort Fisher, and the bottle and spoons, was recited, and there was almost universal merriment. Bingham smiled and squirmed, looking, when his remarks about Butler were given, both puzzled and pleased. Butler had fixed himself in an easy position, his right elbow upon the manager's table, and his head leaning upon his hand, and he was as still as a wooden image until Evarts was through with the matter of decorum. Members of the House who were present, seemed greatly edified, and Garfield and Colfax talked it over, laughing heartily.
At last came the verdict. The votes on the two articles were taken May 16th and 26th, standing, in each case, thirty-five guilty and nineteen not guilty, which acquitted the President, as a two-thirds vote is required to convict. Mr. Stanton at once resigned, and General Schofield was made Secretary of War. The fact that had Mr. Johnson been found guilty Mr. Wade would have been President of the United States doubtless had great weight with several Senators who voted "not guilty."
Within thirty minutes after the first vote was taken, which resulted in acquittal, a Congressional Committee of Inquiry was instituted by Republicans in regard to the conduct of the disagreeing members of the Senate. Witnesses were summoned, and volumes of testimony were taken and ingeniously exhausted in the vain endeavor to fix a stain upon a single Senator, but the Committee had to give up the matter in disgust, being quite unable to accomplish the ends they so zealously pursued.
The remainder of Mr. Johnson's Presidential career was not especially noteworthy. On the 25th of December, 1868, he issued a full pardon to everybody who had taken part in the Rebellion.
[Facsimile] J. S. Black JEREMIAH SULLIVAN BLACK, born in The Glades, Somerset County, Pa., June 10th, 1810; studied law and was admitted to the bar in 1831; in 1851 was chosen Judge of the Supreme Court of the State, and became its Chief Justice; was Attorney-General under President Buchanan, 1857-1861; resumed private practice at law; defended President Johnson in the Impeachment trial; died near York, Pa., August 19th, 1883.
XXI. A NEW PRESIDENTIAL CONTEST
As the time approached for the selection of a candidate by the Republicans, Ohio presented four names. General Grant, the conqueror of the Rebellion, who was without experience, qualifications, or capacity as a civil ruler, was evidently the choice of the loyal people of the North. The old Abolitionists and the national banks favored Chief Justice Chase, who possessed brains, personal dignity, and ability to perform the duties of the Executive. Stanton was the martyr-candidate of the contractors, an unscrupulous man of action and decision, bold, audacious, and unshrinking; and the Western Reserve brought forward bluff Ben Wade, feigning fanaticism and stoical virtue, but a mere mouther of strong words and profane epithets. A few spoke of a fifth Ohio candidate for the nomination in General Sheridan, but, "like a little man," he promptly sat down on every demonstration in his behalf. It soon became evident that General Grant would be nominated. State Republican Conventions, Union Clubs, and newspapers of all political shades declared their preferences for him, the New York Herald finally coming out for the "Conqueror of the Rebellion," with these lines, by General Halpine (Miles O'Reilly), as a text. They afterward became historic:
"So, boys, a final bumper, While we all in chorus chant, For next President we nominate Our own Ulysses Grant.
"And if asked what State he hails from, This our sole reply shall be, From near Appomattox Court-House, And its famous apple tree.
"For 'twas there to our Ulysses That Lee gave up the fight; Now, boys, to Grant for President, And God defend the right."
Chief Justice Chase was treated with less favor by another poet, who thus described his visit to Ohio to rally his followers:
"Says Salmon P. Chase, says he, 'I'll fish, by Jupiter Ammon!' He went to Ohio, And threw in his fly--oh! But never a sign of a Salmon."
The Chief Justice was a prominent candidate for the Democratic nomination. His eldest daughter, Mrs. Kate Chase Sprague, was in New York when the Democratic Convention was held there, and her parlor was the head-quarters of her father's friends. Mr. Frederick Aiken, a lawyer-journalist, who had appeared at the trial of the conspirators as the defender of Mrs. Surratt, was her master of ceremonies, and introduced the delegates from the rural districts to Mrs. Sprague, but she failed to capture a majority. The Chief Justice saw plainly that the star of Grant was in the ascendant, and that his life-cherished hope of being President was doomed to disappointment.
General Grant was very positive in demanding that all officers of the Confederate army should enjoy their liberty. Among those of them who had been imprisoned by order of the Secretary of War was General Clement C. Clay, an ex-United States Senator from Alabama. He was taken ill in prison with asthma, and his wife came to Washington to solicit his release. She went to President Johnson, and he gave her the necessary order, which she took back to Secretary Stanton. Stanton read the order, and, looking her in the face, tore it up without a word and pitched it into his waste-basket. The lady arose and retired without speaking; nor did Stanton speak to her. She was filled with despair. She saw her husband, in whom her life was wrapped up, dying in prison, and she was unable to help him.
Soon afterward she was advised to call on General Grant, who ascertained by consulting his roster of the Confederate army that her husband was a Brigadier-General, and then wrote an order directing his release, under the Appomattox parole, on giving the required bond, and added: "I shall see that this order is carried out." Having signed the order, he gave it to Mrs. Clay, who the next day presented it to the Secretary of War. Mr. Stanton read it, then touched his bell, and when an officer appeared, handed him the order, saying, "Have that man discharged."
The extensions of the Treasury Department were completed during the Administration of President Johnson under the efficient direction of Mr. A. B. Mullett, supervising architect. The entire building is four hundred and sixty feet long and two hundred and sixty-four feet wide. The new portions are constructed of granite, and the entire cost of this elegantly finished structure was about eight million dollars.
Senator Ben Wade, of Ohio, as President pro tempore of the Senate, enjoyed the privilege of appointing the keeper of the Senate restaurant. That establishment, elegantly fitted up in the basement story of the Senate wing of the Capitol, brilliantly lighted and supplied with coal and ice, was enjoyed rent free by the person fortunate enough to obtain it. It was customary, however, for him to send a good lunch every day to the Vice-President's room without charge.
One day the restauranteur, hearing that he was to be superseded by a caterer from Cincinnati, called on Mr. Wade and said obsequiously, "I am the keeper of the Senate restaurant, Senator." "Oh! yes," replied Mr. Wade, "you run the cook-shop down-stairs, don't you?" "Yes, sir," was the reply, with a low bow. "Well," said Mr. Wade, "what can I do for you? what do you want?" "I have called to express my wish, sir, that I may continue to keep the restaurant, and anything you want, sir, you have only to send a page down-stairs and it shall be furnished quick as a flash, without costing you a cent, sir."
Just then Mr. Wade appeared to recollect something, and looking the man directly in the eye, said: "Oh! I don't want you to feed me; when I do I will pay you for what I eat, like other people. But, listen: complaint has been made to me that you don't treat the little pages fairly or kindly. They complain that they can't get anything to eat except expensive things, for which they have to pay a large price. Now, sir, just remember that these pages are our boys, and you had better overcharge Senators, who are able to pay, than these little chaps, who want to save all of their wages that they can for their mothers. You must be civil and kind to these pages, sir, or I'll have you moved out of your cook-shop and put in some one there who will treat the boys well." The restauranteur promised that he would do so, and bowed his way out. Mr. Wade after this made inquiry of the pages from time to time, and found that they were civilly treated, and that lunches of reasonable cost were provided for them.
Mr. Sumner's enemies circulated a statement that his great speech on Alaska was prepared at the Department of State, and there published at Government expense. This was an unmitigated falsehood. Mr. Sumner obtained the materials for his speech by a careful examination of all the available works in the Congressional and other libraries at Washington in which reference is made to Alaska, and by conversing with officers of the navy and of the Smithsonian Institution who had been there. Everything supplied from the Department of State was a brief correspondence between Mr. Stoeckel and Secretary Seward, which made a quarter of a printed page. Mr. Sumner's speech, written in his own hand, made nearly one hundred foolscap pages, and the manuscript, which he gave me, is now in my collection of autographs. He had it printed at the Congressional Globe office at his own expense, and an expensive job it was. Subsequently Mr. Seward asked and received permission to have a small extra edition struck off, before the type was distributed, for the use of the Department of State, and with these copies was bound a coast survey chart, for which Mr. Sumner had supplied much information.
General Grant, although at times annoyed by his relations with the President, passed the happiest period of his eventful life at Washington during the Johnson Administration. He occupied a large house which had been built by Judge Douglas, in what was known as Minnesota Row. A devoted wife, Mrs. Grant was also an affectionate mother, and the happy pair enjoyed the society of their children as they grew up. Fred, the eldest son, who had shared some of his father's later campaigns, was being prepared for admission to West Point. The General's pet was his only daughter, Nellie, who was bright and beautiful, and whose girlish prattle was far more attractive to him than the compliments of Congressmen or the praises of politicians.
General Grant used generally to walk to and from his "head-quarters," which were in a two-story house on Seventeenth Street, opposite the War Department, and he was often seen trudging along on a stormy day, his only protection from the rain being an army cloak and a slouch hat. There was nothing to indicate that he was the Commander- in-Chief of the army, and he was always alone in the morning when he went to the Department. His route was through I Street to Massachusetts and New York Avenues, to Fifteenth Street, and thence by the broad-flagged pavement on Pennsylvania Avenue to the War Department. Even the children along this route knew General Grant, and would frequently salute him as he passed, silently smoking his cigar. General Grant was very fond of walking about Washington, and even after he became President nothing was more agreeable to him than a stroll down Pennsylvania Avenue. Frequently in these walks he would meet going in an opposite direction Sir Edward Thornton, then the British Minister. Sir Edward was a good pedestrian, and took long strolls every day, and would go springing along like a boy out for a holiday. On the other hand, General Grant walked slowly and deliberately, and would invariably return every salutation, no matter how humble the person saluting might be.
General Grant's evening receptions at his house on Minnesota Row were the social feature of Washington. Cabinet officers, diplomatists, Judges, Congressmen, officers of the army and navy, residents, and the strangers within their gates made up the throng that good- humoredly jostled and crowded each other in futile attempts to move through the parlors and hall. When General Grant had issued cards of invitation to his first reception, hundreds who had received none went, all the same, so he afterward announced through the newspapers that he would be "happy to see his friends."
General Grant received all those who could get near him in his usual stoical manner, his eyes lighting up when he took an old friend or comrade by the hand. He wore his undress uniform, with the four golden stars glistening on his shoulder-straps, while Mrs. Grant, who stood at his side, wore a plain, high-necked, long- sleeved, pink silk gown, with a Honiton black lace shawl thrown over her shoulders. The wives of Senators Chandler and Morgan vied with each other in the richness of their toilets and the splendor of their diamonds, but the observed of all observers was Mrs. Charles Sumner, on the Senator's arm, wearing a becoming dress of black velvet, with a white lace shawl, and a flexible golden serpent woven among her dark tresses.
Secretary Seward hovered around the host nearly all the evening, anxious to conciliate him and to secure his support of "our Administration." Mr. Speaker Colfax was in excellent spirits, and so were the scores of Congressmen and placemen present, each one anxious to say a word to the next President. Lieutenant-General Sherman was grim and epigrammatic, while Generals Sheridan and Ord appeared delighted at their deliverance from the troublesome duties of reconstruction, and there was much soldier-talk among the many brave men present who had stood shoulder to shoulder on hard-fought fields. Receptions were given by President Johnson, Speaker Colfax, Chief Justice Chase, Governor Morgan, Admiral Dalhgren, and other dignitaries, but those at the house of General Grant eclipsed them all.
Mr. Sam Ward began to operate in the lobby at Washington toward the close of the war. He was a short, compactly built, round-headed gentleman, well educated, with an inexhaustible fund of anecdote and great gastronomic knowledge, which enabled him to give marvelously good dinners. Besides all this, he was a "good witness," and consequently a reliable friend. He said of himself, just after being examined by General Butler, during the Andrew Johnson impeachment investigation, that he had "been before that d----d strabismal inquisition, and that his evidence wasn't worth half his mileage." It should be known that his mileage was twenty cents, ten cents per mile each way from Willard's Hotel to the Capitol, and that, as his street-car fare only cost him twelve, he sent eight cents to the Treasury as conscience money. So powerful a legislative manipulator was Mr. Ward that he claimed for himself the title, "King of the Lobby," nor was his claim seriously disputed.
Charles Dickens again came to Washington to lecture during President Johnson's last official winter. He had rooms at Welcker's restaurant on Fifteenth Street. He used to walk out every fine day, accompanied by his friend and adviser, Mr. Osgood, the Boston publisher, and Mr. Dolby, his financial agent. They would often tramp eight or ten miles before dinner. Simon Hanscom, the journalist, secured him an interview with President Johnson, who impressed him, as he afterward wrote, as "a man of very remarkable appearance--indeed, of tremendous firmness of purpose, not to be trifled with." The only invitation to dine that he accepted was one from Senator Sumner, on a Sunday afternoon, when Secretary Stanton was in the party.
In Washington, as elsewhere, Mr. Dickens' lectures and readings were to him a mine of pecuniary profit, and to hundreds of the most intelligent and cultured citizens of the metropolis they furnished a treat of the highest intellectual character. His audiences were such as must have highly flattered him, and his entertainments were such as greatly delighted him.
[Facsimile] Charles Sumner CHARLES SUMNER was born at Boston, Massachusetts, January 6th, 1811; received a classical education, graduating at the Cambridge Law School in 1834; practiced in Boston; traveled in Europe 1837- 1840; was United States Senator from Massachusetts from December 1st, 1851, until his death at Washington City, March 11th, 1869.
XXII. GENERAL GRANT IN THE WHITE HOUSE
General Grant, having been elected President by a majority of nearly one million and a-half of votes, was inaugurated on Thursday, the 4th of March, 1869. The national metropolis was crowded with those who had come to witness the historic event, many of them veterans who rejoiced in the elevation of their Old Commander to the highest civic office in the gift of the American people.
The military escort was composed of regulars and volunteers, several companies of the latter being colored men. Then came President Johnson and the President-elect in an open landau, drawn by four white horses, Mr. Johnson looking soured and sad, while General Grant, displaying no signs of elation, waved his hat in response to the cheers with which he was greeted all the way from the White House to the Capitol. Next came the Vice-President-elect, Mr. Colfax, in a carriage with a member of the Senatorial Committee of Arrangements, and the civic associations followed. There were the Tanners, the Invincibles, the Wide Awakes, the Grant and Colfax Clubs, and the Colored Republicans, each organization with its band, its banners, and its badges. The Washington Fire Department, their brightly polished engines drawn by spirited horses, brought up the rear.
On arriving at the Capitol, the President and President-elect and the Vice-President-elect were escorted to the Senate Chamber, where, four years previously, Mr. Johnson had disgraced himself by his drunken harangue. The Supreme Court was already there, with the Diplomatic Corps, gorgeously arrayed in their court costumes, and a number of prominent army and navy officers in full uniform. In the galleries were ladies gayly dressed, whose opera-glasses had been turned on the distinguished personages below as they had successively entered, and who kept up such a buzzing chat that it was almost impossible for the Senators to transact the closing business of the expiring session.
At twelve o'clock Mr. Colfax was sworn in as Vice-President, and afterward administered the oath to the new Senators. Some of those applying, however, had served in the Confederate army, and were not able to take what was known as the "iron-clad oath." A procession was then formed of those present on the floor of the Senate, which moved through the rotunda to the east front of the Capitol, where the President-elect was hailed by hearty cheers. He advanced to the front of the platform, and the oath of office was administered by Chief Justice Chase, followed by an artillery salute from a light battery near by, while the whistles of the steam fire-engines joined in the clangor, the band played, and thousands of voices cheered.
When silence was restored, President Grant drew from his coat pocket six or seven pages of foolscap, adjusted his glasses, and with great deliberation read in a conversational tone his message to the citizens of the Republic and to the world, a plain, practical, common-sense document, in which he declared that he should on all subjects have a policy of his own to recommend, but none to enforce against the will of the people. Soon after he began to read his message his little daughter, somewhat alarmed by the clamor and the throng, ran from her mother to his side, and took hold of his hand, which she held until a chair was placed for her, when she sat down, seemingly assured that no harm could reach her. When the President had concluded he shook hands with his wife, and afterward received the congratulations of many official and unofficial persons, who crowded around and greeted him, before he could return to his carriage and start, escorted as when he came, to the White House. The interest taken in this occasion by the President's old comrades in arms was something wonderful. Every soldier hailed his election as a compliment to the army.
That night General Grant and wife attended the inauguration ball, which was held in the north wing of the new Treasury Department, then just completed. There was a great crowd, and the single flight of stairs proved insufficient for those who wished to pass up or down, causing great dissatisfaction, especially on the part of Horace Greeley and others, who found that the best hats and coats had been taken from the improvised cloak-rooms early in the evening.
General Grant had kept the formation of his Cabinet a profound secret, and their names were not known until he sent their nominations to the Senate on the day after his inauguration. The nomination of Elihu B. Washburne, of Illinois, as Secretary of State, created some surprise, as it had been understood that he was to be sent to France as Minister Plenipotentiary. It was soon known, however, that Mr. Washburne only desired to preside over the Department of State for a few days, ostensibly for the prestige it would give him in diplomatic circles abroad, but really that he might appoint some of his political henchmen to profitable consulates. At the end of six days' service, Mr. Hamilton Fish was nominated and confirmed as his successor. Mr. Fish was of orthodox Knickerbocker stock, and the services of his father, Colonel Nicholas Fish, gave him a hereditary right to belong to the Society of the Cincinnati, over the central organization of which he presided as Captain- General. He had served acceptably in the United States Senate and House of Representatives, and as a War Governor of the State of New York he had displayed considerable executive talent. He was rather a large, British-looking man, with leg-of-mutton side- whiskers, a stout nose, and a pleasant expression of countenance, especially when he was chuckling over his success in humbugging some verdant news-gatherer on diplomatic matters.
It was the especial social duty of Secretary Fish to entertain the foreign diplomats in Washington, to settle their little disputes on questions of etiquette, and to make them reasonably happy. Every winter he dined and wined them, and, although his dining-room in the Morgan House was of goodly size, he was forced to make a three days' job of it. So on Monday he had the Envoys Extraordinary, on Tuesday the Ministers Resident, and on Wednesday the Charge d'Affaires, with a few personal friends to fill up the gaps. The Senate and House Foreign Committees were next entertained at dinner, and then the leading members of either House expected to put their Congressional legs under the Fish mahogany. Meanwhile Mrs. and Miss Fish had to go the grand rounds to leave their cards on the wives and daughters of Senators and Representatives, and to be "at home" every Wednesday to receive visits from them and the rest of society in turn.
The Secretary of State is considered the "Premier" of the Administration, but General Grant regarded the Secretaryship of the Treasury as the most important position in his Cabinet. The Republic was at peace with other nations, and the military and naval forces, which had grown to such enormous proportions during the war, had been economically reduced, but the Treasury was an immense, overgrown organization, with its collections of customs and of internal revenue duties, its issues of interest-bearing bonds and of national bank-notes, the coinage of money, the revenue marine service, the coast survey, and the life-saving stations, all of which had been expanded during the war until the clerks and employees were numbered by thousands. General Grant wished to place at the head of this establishment a business man who could prune off its excrescences and reform its abuses. The place was offered to the millionaire merchant, Mr. A. T. Stewart, of New York, who accepted it with pleasure, and at once had a suite of rooms in the Ebbitt House, with a private entrance, fitted up for his occupancy until he could go to housekeeping. A few days before the 4th of March he came to Washington and occupied these rooms, with Judge Hilton as his companion and adviser.
On the day after the inauguration Mr. Stewart was nominated by General Grant, but Senator Sumner, who had not been consulted as to the formation of the Cabinet, interposed his objection to the immediate consideration of Mr. Stewart's nomination. Late in the afternoon of that day a rumor got abroad that there was a law, understood really to have been written by Alexander Hamilton while Secretary of the Treasury, prohibiting an importer in active business from holding the position of Secretary of the Treasury. A newspaper correspondent obtained this law and carried to General Butterfield, who conveyed it to Mr. Stewart and his legal adviser, Judge Hilton. They consulted Chief Justice Chase, and he confirmed the view which had been taken of the law by those who first brought it to Mr. Stewart's attention. Mr. Stewart then proposed to retire from business and devote the entire profits that might accrue during the time that he should hold the office of Secretary of the Treasury to charitable objects. But this was decided to be something which would not be proper either for him to carry out or for the Government to accept.
Immediately after seeing Chief Justice Chase, Mr. Stewart and Judge Hilton drove to the White House, and laid the facts and the opinions before the President, who, on the next day, wrote a message to the Senate asking that the law of 1788 be set aside so as to enable the candidate to hold the office. This the Senate declined to do. It was a very natural ambition for a man of Mr. Stewart's tastes and training to desire to be at the head of the Treasury, and it is not unlikely that the disappointment was a very severe one. This was the beginning of the "unpleasantness" between President Grant and Senator Sumner, which finally resulted in open rupture.
Disappointed in not having the services of Mr. Stewart, General Grant appointed George S. Boutwell, ex-Governor of Massachusetts, who had had great legislative experience, as Secretary of the Treasury; General John A. Rawlins, who had been his chief of staff and military adviser, was made Secretary of War; Adolph E. Borie, a retired Philadelphia merchant, Secretary of the Navy; J. D. Cox, an Ohio lawyer, with a good military record, Secretary of the Interior; John A. J. Creswell, an ex-Senator from Maryland, Postmaster- General, and Ebenezer Rockwood Hoar, a gifted Massachusetts lawyer, endowed with keen wit, but possessed of most unpopular manners, Attorney-General.
The Cabinet was regarded as a strong one. In Congress, Vice- President Colfax presided over the Senate, and James G. Blaine was Speaker of the House. Every State was again represented, and the Republican Administration had the support of a decided majority at either end of the Capitol. It was hoped by the Republicans that their party was about to enter upon a new career of usefulness.
General Grant carried with him into the White House his army habits of regularity and two of his staff officers, Generals Porter and Babcock. He used to rise in the morning about seven o'clock, read the Washington papers, and breakfast at half-past eight with his family. He would then light a cigar and take a short stroll, walking slowly, with his left hand behind him, and sometimes holding his cigar in his right hand. Ten o'clock found him in his office, ready for the reception of visitors and the transaction of executive business. On Thursdays and Fridays the Cabinet met, and members of Congress always had precedence over other visitors. He would listen attentively to all that was said to him by those who called, but he was silent or non-committal in his replies. As the day advanced his secretaries would bring him letters which required answers, and would receive instructions as to what replies should be made.
At three o'clock the official business of the day was ended, and General Grant almost invariably visited the White House stables, for he was very fond of his horses. Among them were "Cincinnatus," his dark bay charger; "St. Louis" and "Egypt," two carriage-horses of fine action; a buggy horse named "Julia;" Master Jesse's Shetland ponies, "Billy Button" and "Reb;" "Jeff Davis," a natural pacer; "Mary," Miss Nellie's saddle-horse; "Jennie," a brood mare, and three Hambletonian colts. Five vehicles were in the carriage house --a landau, a barouche, a light road-wagon, a top-buggy, and a pony- phaeton for the children.
From the stable, if the weather was pleasant and the walking good, General Grant would often take a stroll along the north sidewalk of Pennsylvania Avenue, occasionally stopping to exchange a few words with an old comrade. He returned all salutations, as had been his custom before becoming Chief Magistrate, and always lifted his hat when bowing to lady acquaintances.
Dinner was served at the White House promptly at five o'clock, and every member of the family was expected to be punctual. General Grant's favorite dishes were rare roast beef, boiled hominy, and wheaten bread, but he was always a light eater. Pleasant chat enlivened the meal, with Master Jesse as the humorist, while Grandpa Dent would occasionally indulge in some conservative growls against the progress being made by the colored race. After coffee, the General would light another cigar and smoke while he glanced over the New York papers. About nine o'clock, a few chosen friends would often call, sometimes by appointment, but business matters were generally forbidden, and offices were not to be mentioned. The children retired at nine o'clock, Mrs. Grant followed them about ten, and between ten and eleven General Grant sought his pillow.
[Facsimile] U. S. Grant ULYSSES S. GRANT was born at Point Pleasant, Clermont County, Ohio, April 27th, 1822; graduated from the Military Academy at West Point in 1843, and was commissioned as a Brevet Second Lieutenant in the Fourth United States Infantry; served in the Mexican war, receiving the brevets of First Lieutenant and Captain; resigned his commission in 1854; carried on a farm near St. Louis; was commissioned Colonel of the Twenty-first Regiment of Illinois Volunteers, June 16th, 1861; was promoted to the rank of Brigadier-General, May 17th, 1861; of Major-General, February 17th, 1862; of Lieutenant-General, March 1st, 1864, and as Commander of the Armies of the United States, March 24th, 1864; received the surrender of General Lee at Appomattox Court-House, April 9th, 1865; was inaugurated as President of the United States, March 4th, 1869; was again inaugurated March 4th, 1873; traveled around the world with his family, May 17th, 1877 - December 16th, 1879; died at Mount McGregor, July 23d, 1885, and was buried in the city of New York.
XXIII. RECONSTRUCTION OF THE METROPOLIS
General Grant, soon after his election to the Presidential chair, turned his attention to the improvement of the National Capital, which was then unworthy of the American people. The streets generally were wagon tracks, muddy in the winter and dusty in the summer, while the numerous public reservations were commons overgrown with weeds. The growth of the city had been slow and labored, the real estate being generally in the hands of a few old fogies who manifested no disposition to improve or to sell. For many years the metropolis had been petted and spoiled by the general Government, which had doled out small annual appropriations, and the residents had been exempted from many of the ordinary burdens of municipal government and local improvement.
General Grant, with his great knowledge of men, found the right person to place at the head of the regeneration of the city. It was Alexander R. Shepherd, a native of Washington, born poor and without friends, who went from the public schools into the shop of a gas-fitter and plumber, where he learned the trade and became, in a short time, by honesty, industry, and ability, a leading business man. The Territorial Government was organized with Henry D. Cooke, the banker, as Governor, a Legislature, and Delegate to represent the District in Congress. Shepherd, as Chairman of the Board of Public Works, commenced with his immense energy and invincible determination, to transform a slovenly and comfortless sleepy old town into the great and beautiful metropolis which L'Enfant had planned and which Washington approved before it received his name. The grandest systems of municipal improvement ever conceived were carried out regardless of expense. The whole city was placed upon an even and regular grade, the low places filled up, and the elevations cut down. Some ninety miles of the three hundred miles of half-made streets and avenues were graded and paved, some with wood and others with asphaltum. The public grounds and parks were made and ornamented with grass plats, shrubbery, and fountains, the sewerage and drainage were made perfect, and health, beauty, and comfort were permanently secured.
Washington, thanks to Governor Shepherd (he having in time succeeded Governor Cooke) became a metropolis worthy of the Republic. By reducing the width of the streets a front yard was given to each house, planted with trees or flowers, and where the old canal yawned through the heart of the city, a muddy receptacle for dead dogs and filth, arose a broad avenue, while the small reservations dotted over the city were graded and ornamented with trees, fountains, and flowers.
All of this cost a great deal of money. Congress appropriated five million dollars in cash, and several millions more were raised on bonds. Much of this money was disbursed by Governor Shepherd, and he undoubtedly was disposed to give profitable contracts to his friends, and to the henchmen of those members of Congress whose votes secured him liberal appropriations. Newspaper correspondents received in several instances contracts for paving, which they disposed of to those engaged in that business, and realized handsome sums, but close investigation failed to show that Governor Shepherd had enriched himself or had added to the value of his own property as distinguished from the property of others. His ambition was more than a merely selfish one, and it was shown clearly that his ability was equaled by his honesty. A few years later he became financially embarrassed, and was forced to exile himself to Mexico, hoping to repair in its silver mines his shattered fortune. General Grant never lost confidence in him, and as his improvements became perfected, Alexander R. Shepherd was regarded as the regenerator of the National Metropolis.
Another man who did much for the ornamentation of Washington City was A. B. Mullett, the Supervising Architect of the Treasury. After having finished that magnificent structure, the extended Treasury Building, he planned and commenced the great State, War, and Navy Building, the cost of which is about twelve millions of dollars. His professional advice was followed by Governor Shepherd, and it is not altogether creditable to our institutions that after having honestly disbursed millions on the public buildings in almost every section of the country, as well as on those at Washington City, Mr. Mullett was removed from his position on political grounds, and was obliged, after having given the best years of his life to his country, to commence anew the practice of his profession for a livelihood.
General Grant was much embarrassed early in his Presidential career by the attempts of some of those around him to engage in speculations for their private benefit. Always willing to bestow offices, or to dispense profitable favors to his numerous relatives by blood and by marriage, and to advance the interests of those who had served him faithfully during the war, he could not understand the desperate intrigues which speculation had led some of them into. Among his proteges was Abel R. Corbin, who had been known at Washington as the clerk of a House committee, a correspondent, and a lobbyist, and who had afterward removed to New York, where he had added to his means by successful speculation. Marrying General Grant's sister, who was somewhat advanced in years, he conceived the idea of using his brother-in-law for a gigantic speculation in gold, and in order to obtain the requisite capital entered into a partnership with Jay Gould and James Fisk, Jr. By adroit management, these operators held on the first of September, 1869, "calls" for one hundred million dollars of gold, and as there were not more than fifteen millions of the precious metal in New York outside of the Sub-Treasury, they were masters of the situation. The only obstacle in the way of their triumphant success would be the sale of gold from the Sub-Treasury at a moderate price, by direction of General Grant. Corbin assured his co-conspirators that he could prevent this interference, and wrote a letter to the President urging him not to order or permit sales from the Sub-Treasury. He ostensibly sent this letter by special messenger, but, in fact, substituted for it an ordinary letter on family matters. General Grant's suspicions were aroused by the receipt of this unimportant epistle, and at his request Mrs. Grant wrote to Mrs. Corbin, saying that the General had learned with regret that her husband was engaged in gold speculations, and he had better give them up.
General Grant returned to Washington on the 23d of September, 1869. The next day, "Black Friday," the conspirators put up the price of gold, and a wild panic ensured. Leading men of all parties in the city of New York telegraphed the President and the Secretary of the Treasury, urging their interference as the only way of preventing a financial crash, which would have extended over the whole country. About eleven o'clock Secretary Boutwell went to the White House, and after a brief conference General Grant expressed his wish that the desired relief should be given, and Secretary Boutwell promptly telegraphed to Sub-Treasurer Butterfield, at New York, to give notice that he would sell four millions of gold. This collapsed the speculation. "I knew," said Jim Fisk, afterward, "that somebody had run a sword right into us." It was not without difficulty that Corbin, Gould, and Fisk escaped from the fury of their victims. The conspiracy was subsequently investigated by a committee of the House of Representatives, and a report was made by James A. Garfield, completely exonerating General Grant, and declaring that by laying the strong hand of Government upon the conspirators and breaking their power he had treated them as enemies of the credit and business of the Union.
General Grant was known to advocate the speediest practical return to specie payment, but the Supreme Court of the United States changed the current of financial operations by declaring that the act of Congress of 1864, making "greenback" notes a legal tender, was unconstitutional. It is a curious fact, that while the community every now and then is thrown into a condition of great excitement about political rights and duties, and about who shall be President and who member of Congress, nine elderly gentlemen, wearing silk gowns, sitting in a quiet room in the Capitol, are deciding questions of direct and immediate political concern, taking laws from the statute books, and nullifying the action of the executive and legislative departments of the Government, yet not one in a thousand of the busy, restless citizens of the country knows or cares what the decisions of this arch-tribunal are.
This high tribunal holds its sessions in the chamber of the Capitol which was originally constructed for and occupied by the Senate of the United States. The Supreme Court began its sessions here in 1860. The Court is in session from the second Monday in October to early in May of each year. It usually sits five days each week, reserving Saturday for consultations on the cases in hand. Positions on this bench are deemed eminently desirable, as they are for life, or "during good behavior." The salaries are not to be despised either, being ten thousand dollars each per annum, with an additional five hundred dollars to the Chief Justice.
The Credit Mobilier made a deal of talk, although comparatively few people knew what it really was. Under various acts of Congress granting aid to the Union Pacific Railroad, that corporation was to receive twelve thousand eight hundred acres of land to the mile, or about twelve million acres in all, and Government six per cent. bonds to the amount of twelve thousand dollars per mile for one portion of the road, thirty-two thousand dollars per mile for another portion, and forty-eight thousand dollars per mile for another. In addition to these subsidies, the company was authorized to issue its own first mortgage bonds to an amount equal to the Government bonds, and to organize with a capital stock not to exceed one hundred million dollars. All this constituted a magnificent fund, and it soon became evident that the road could be built for at least twenty million dollars less than the resources thus furnished. Of course, the honest way would have been to build the road as economically as possible, and give the Government the benefit of the saving, but this was not thought of. The directors set themselves at work to concoct a plan by which they could appropriate the whole amount, and, after building the road, divide the large surplus among themselves. The plan hit upon was for the directors to become contractors, in other words, to hire themselves to build the road. To consummate this fraud without exciting public attention, and to cover all traces of the transaction, was no easy matter, but the directors employed an eminent attorney skilled in the intricacies of railroad fraud, and with his aid and advice the machinery for the transaction was finally arranged to the satisfaction of all concerned. This attorney was Samuel J. Tilden.
In order to avoid personal liability and give their movement the semblance of legality, the directors purchased the charter of the "Pennsylvania Fiscal Agency," and changed its name to the "Credit Mobilier of America." At this time (1864) two million dollars of stock had been subscribed to the railroad company, and two hundred and eighteen thousand dollars paid in. Samuel J. Tilden had subscribed twenty thousand dollars. The first thing the Credit Mobilier did was to buy in all of this stock and bring the railroad company and Credit Mobilier under one management and the same set of officers. Then the directors of the railroad company, through certain middle-men, awarded the contract for building the road to the Credit Mobilier, in other words, to themselves, for from twenty thousand dollars to thirty thousand dollars per mile more than it was worth. Evidence which afterward came to light in the Congressional investigations showed that the Credit Mobilier made a cash profit in the transaction of over twenty-three million dollars, besides gobbling up the stock of the road at thirty cents on the dollar, when the law plainly provided that it should not be issued at less than par.
Oakes Ames, a sturdy Massachusetts mechanic, who had acquired a fortune by the manufacture of shovels, had been persuaded to embark in the construction of the Pacific Railroad. Finding legislation necessary, and knowing how difficult it was to secure the attention of Congressmen to schemes which did not benefit them or their constituents, he distributed shares of this Credit Mobilier, to use his own words, "where it would do the most good." Some of the recipients kept it and pocketed the profits, while others endeavored to get rid of it when public attention was called to it, and they ungratefully tried to make Mr. Ames their scapegoat.
[Facsimile] James Monroe JAMES MONROE was born in Westmoreland County, Va., April 28th, 1758; served honorably in the Revolution; entered the Virginia Legislature when twenty-three years of age; entered Congress when twenty-four; chosen United States Senator, 1789; was Minister to France, 1794-1796; was Governor of Virginia, 1799-1802; re-elected Governor in 1811; resigned and became Secretary of State under Madison, 1811-1817; was President of the United States, 1817-1825; died July 4th, 1831, in New York.
XXIV. RESTORATION OF THE UNION
The Southern States had again returned to their allegiance, and in the third session of the Forty-first Congress every State in the Union was represented. Vice-President Colfax presided over sixty- one Republican and thirteen Democratic Senators, and Speaker Blaine over one hundred and seventy-two Republican and seventy-one Democratic Representatives. The Republican party had preserved the Union, conquered peace, and was at the height of its power. The "carpet- baggers" from the South were gradually being replaced by ante-bellum politicians and "Southern brigadiers." Many Northern men regretted that the North had not sent more of its heroes to Congress, feeling that men who had honorably faced each other on hard-fought battle- fields would have a mutual respect and a mutual desire to co-operate together for the national welfare.
It soon became evident, however, that the Southern Democrats were about to exercise an important influence in national politics, that they possessed in common some very clearly defined purposes, and that they were not likely to permit their allegiance to their party to interfere with their efforts to obtain what they called "justice for the South." They went in without reserve for the old flag, but they also went in for an appropriation--in fact, several appropriations. They honestly thought that they were only asking simple justice in demanding that the Government should spend nearly as much for the development of their material resources as it did for the suppression of the Rebellion. All their cherished ideas of State Rights vanished when money was to be expended at the South, and the honesty of their intentions made their influence far more to be dreaded than that of adepts in legislative corruption, who are always distrusted.
The number of Southern Representatives was greatly increased by that change in the Constitution which abolished the fractional representation of colored people and made all men equal. It soon became evident, too, that the whites were determined, by a well- disciplined legion, known as the Ku-Klux Klan, whose members pretended to be the ghosts of the Confederate dead, to intimidate the colored voters, and intimidation was often supplemented by violence and murder. The grossest outrages by this secret body went unpunished and Congress finally passed a law which enabled the President to eradicate the evil.
The "Joint High Commission," for the adjustment of all causes of difference between the United States and Great Britain, including the depredations of Rebel cruisers fitted out in British ports and the disputed fisheries in North American waters, assembled in Washington in the spring of 1871. The "High Joints," as they were familiarly termed, took the furnished house of Mr. Philp, on Franklin Square, where they gave a series of dinner-parties, with several evening entertainments. In return numerous entertainments were given to them, including a banquet by the leading Freemasons in Washington, some of them members of Congress, to the Earl De Gray (then Grand Master of Masons in England), and Lord Tenterden, who was also a prominent member of the fraternity.
There are good reasons for believing that the British were induced to gracefully make the concessions involved in the Alabama treaty by the knowledge that General Grant had taken into consideration the expediency of seizing Canada as a compensation for damages inflicted upon the United States ships by Confederate cruisers fitted out in English ports. This was a favorite idea of General John A. Rawlins, who was the brain of General Grant's staff and his Secretary of War until death removed him. General Rawlins was in full accord with the hope that Stephen A. Douglas's aspirations for an ocean-bound Republic might be realized, and it was understood that he was warmly seconded by General Pryor, of Virginia, ex- Lieutenant Governor Reynolds, of Missouri, and others.
The treaty was indirectly opposed by Monsieur de Catacazy, the Minister Plenipotentiary of the Emperor of Russia to the United States, who endeavored to prejudice Senators against its ratification, and inspired the correspondent of a New York paper to write against it. This prompted Secretary Fish to request the Minister's recall, and there was also much scandal circulated by Madame de Catacazy, a beautiful woman, who had been at Washington--so the gossips say --fifteen years before, when she had eloped from her husband under the protection of Monsieur de Catacazy, then Secretary of the Russian Legation. The Emperor of Russia, on receiving complaint against his Envoy, directed the Minister of Foreign Affairs to ask in his name that the President "would tolerate Monsieur de Catacazy until the coming visit of his third son, the Grand Duke Alexis, was concluded." To this personal appeal General Grant assented.
The Grand Duke soon afterward arrived at Washington, and was welcomed at the Russian Legation by Madame de Catacazy, who wore a dress of gold-colored silk, with a flowing train, elaborately trimmed with gold-colored satin. On her right arm she wore a double bracelet, one band being on the wrist and the other above the elbow, the two joined together by elaborately wrought chains. Her other ornaments were of plain gold, and above them was a wealth of golden hair. As the Grand Duke entered the Legation, Madame de Catacazy carried a silver salver, on which was placed a round loaf of plain black bread, on the top of which was imbedded a golden salt-cellar. The Prince took the uninviting loaf, broke and tasted of it, in accordance with the old Russian custom.
The Grand Duke was cordially welcomed at the White House, but Monsieur de Catacazy was treated with studied coolness. It was openly intimated that there was a little Frenchwoman at Washington, young, sprightly, and accomplished, who had won the way into the Catacazy's household through the sympathies of its handsome mistress. She was made a companion of, advised with, and intrusted with whatever the house or Legation contained, confidential and otherwise. All the public or private letters, papers, and despatches passed under they eyes of this bright little woman, all that was said went into her sharp ears, and every day she made a written report of what she had heard and seen, which was privately sent to the Department of State, and for which she was handsomely remunerated from the Secret Service Fund.
Charles Sumner purchased (before it was completed) an elegant dwelling-house between the Arlington Hotel and Lafayette Square, but when he occupied it at the commencement of the next session, he was alone. The energetic reporters at once began to intimate that the Senator's marriage had not been a happy one, and from that time until the great Senator passed over the dark river this painful subject was, as it were, a base of supplies from which a great variety of theories were drawn and sustained. One was sure that the attentions of a diplomat had troubled the Senator, another declared that he was too arrogant, another that he was too exacting --in short, there was not an editorial paragraphist who did not sooner or later give a conjectural solution of Mr. Sumner's domestic infelicity. They were divorced, and he lived alone for several years in his sumptuous house, which he adorned with superb works of art. Here he hospitably entertained personal friends and distinguished strangers. Unforgiving and implacable, his smile grew sadder, the furrows on his face deepened, and he lost his former bonhomie. He was a Prometheus Vinctus, bound to the desolate rock of a wrecked life, but heroically refraining from revenging his great wrong by attacking a woman.
General Grant's difficulty with Mr. Sumner began when the President did not consult the Senator about the formation of his Cabinet. The breach was gradually widened, and thorough it the Senator finally became completely estranged from his old friend and associate in the Senate, Secretary Fish. When Mr. Motley was removed from the English mission, Mr. Sumner insisted upon regarding it as a personal insult, which he sought to repay by opposition to the acquisition of San Domingo. General Grant endeavored to appease the offended Senator, and on the evening of the day on which the San Domingo treaty was to be sent to the Senate he called at Mr. Sumner's house. General Grant found the Senator at his dinner- table with Colonel Forney and the writer, and was invited to take a seat with them. After some preliminary conversation, General Grant began to talk about San Domingo, but he did not have the treaty or any memorandum of it with him. He dwelt especially upon the expenditures of General Babcock at San Domingo of a large sum taken from the secret service fund for promoting intercourse with the West India Islands, which Mr. Seward, when Secretary of State, had prevailed on Representative Thad Stevens to have inserted in an appropriation bill during the war. The President impressed Mr. Sumner with the idea that he looked for an attack in Congress on the manner in which much of that money had been spent. Mr. Sumner unquestionably thought that General Grant had come to enlist his services in defending the expenditure by General Babcock of one hundred thousand dollars in cash, and fifty thousand dollars for a light battery purchased at New York. The President meant, as Colonel Forney and the writer thought, the treaty for the acquisition of the Dominican Republic. The President and the Senator misunderstood each other. After awhile General Grant promised to send General Babcock to the Senator the next day with copies of the papers, and then left. While escorting the President to the door, Mr. Sumner assured him that he was a Republican and a supporter of the Republican Administration, and that he should sustain the Administration in this case if he possibly could, after he had examined the papers. He meant the expenditure of General Babcock, but the President meant the treaty.
The next morning General Babcock called on Senator Sumner with a copy of the treaty, which he began to read, but he had not gotten beyond the preamble, in which Babcock was styled "aid-de-camp of His Excellency General Ulysses S. Grant," before Mr. Sumner showed signs of disapprobation. When General Babcock proceeded and read the stipulation that "His Excellency General Grant, President of the United States, promises perfectly to use all his influence in order that the idea of annexing the Dominican Republic to the United States may acquire such a degree of popularity among the members of Congress as will be necessary for its accomplishment," Senator Sumner became the enemy of the whole scheme. He did not believe that the President of the United States should be made a lobbyist to bring about annexation by Congress. Some of Mr. Sumner's friends used to tell him that he should have gone at once to General Grant and have told him of his purpose to oppose the treaty, and that he had declared his hostility to it to General Babcock in unmistakable terms.
This was the time when well-meaning friends of both of these great men might have secured satisfactory mutual explanation, although no living power could have made Senator Sumner a supporter of the acquisition of the port of Samana in San Domingo. In the Senate sycophants who "carried water on both shoulders," and men who always delight in fomenting quarrels, embittered Mr. Sumner against the President. One had served his country well in the camp, while the other had performed equally valuable services in the Senate; one was a statesman, the other was a soldier. What did not appear to be wrong to the General, the Senator regarded as criminal. Conscious of the value of his services in saving the Union, General Grant accepted with gratitude the voluntary offerings of grateful citizens; but Senator Sumner, who had seen so much of political life and of politicians, knew too well that those who make gifts to public men expect favors in return, and that every public man should be inflexibly opposed to the reception of presents. Remarks by him about the President, and remarks by the President about him were carried to and fro by mischief-makers, like the shuttle of a loom, and Mr. Sumner directly found himself placed at the head of a clique of disappointed Republicans, who were determined to prevent, if possible, the re-election of General Grant to the Presidency.
Henry Wilson, when Vice-President of the United States, endeavored to restore harmony, and said, in a letter to General Grant: "Your Administration is menaced by great opposition, and it must needs possess a unity among the people and in Congress. The head of a great party, the President of the United States has much to forget and forgive, but he can afford to be magnanimous and forgiving. I want to see the President and Congress in harmony and the Republican party united and victorious. To accomplish this, we must all be just, charitable, and forgiving."
[Facsimile] SchuylerColfax SCHUYLER COLFAX was born at New York City March 23d, 1823; was a Representative from Indiana, 1855-1869, serving as Speaker of the House of Representatives six years; was elected Vice-President of the United States on the ticket with General Grant, serving 1869- 1873, and died at Mankato, Minnesota, January 13th, 1885.
XXV. INTRIGUES AND INTRIGUERS
General Grant, when elected President of the United States, had endeavored to elevate his views beyond the narrow sphere of party influences, and had consolidated in his own mind a scheme of policy which he had before shadowed out for the complete reconstruction of the Union, and for the reform of abuses which had crept into the Federal Government during the war. The qualities which insured his success as a soldier had not enabled him to succeed as a statesman, but he displayed the same fortitude under apparent disaster and courage at unexpected crises when he found himself again passing "the wilderness," darkened, not with the smoke of battle, but with detraction and denunciation. Again, in the old spirit he exclaimed, "I will fight it out on this line if it takes all summer."
The opposition to General Grant's re-election was hydra-headed, and no less than seven candidates were in the field against him. The contest of 1824 had been called "the scrub-race for the Presidency," and to that of 1872 was given the name of "Go as you please." The watchword of the factions was "Anything to beat Grant;" their points of union were the greed of office and the thirst for revenge.
The only serious opposition to General Grant was that of the combined Liberal Republican and Democratic parties, which nominated as their candidate Horace Greeley. It was deeply to be regretted that political ambition tempted the only equal of "Benjamin Franklin, journeyman printer," to become a politician. Better informed than any other man on American politics, courageous, free from small vices, and the embodiment of common sense and justice, with a kind and charitable heart, he was a man of the people and for the people. He was made supremely ridiculous by Nast's caricatures, and by his own record as collated from the files of the great newspaper which he had founded and continued to edit.
Mr. Greeley, after his double nomination at Cincinnati and at Baltimore, showed that he was not content with being a "good printer, a respectable publisher, and an honest editor," which he had previously avowed was the height of his ambition. The unnatural political alliance with those whom he had denounced for a quarter of a century led him into all sorts of inconsistencies and contradictions, and displayed his insatiable thirst for public office. All the sympathies of the Democratic party had been his antipathies, all their hates his loves, and many of their leaders spoke of him publicly with contempt. Indeed, his campaign would have been a farce had not his untimely death made it a tragedy. Ridicule killed him politically, and his political failure was the immediate cause of his sad physical death.
Senator Sumner, endeavoring with the aid of Senator Schurz to connect General Grant or some of the officers near him with the French "arms scandal," prepared with great care, and read in the Senate on the 31st of May, 1872, a fierce philippic against the President. Ancient and modern history had been ransacked for precedents, which were quoted and then applied to General Grant, to show his unworthiness, his incompetency, his nepotism, and his ambition. The long tirade was an erudite exhibition of most intense partisanship, having as a motto from Shakespeare, "We will have rings and things and fine array." A few weeks later Mr. Sumner sailed for Europe, and did not return until after the election.
At the Republican National Convention, which was held at Philadelphia, on Wednesday, the 5th of June, 1872, General Grant was renominated by acclamation as President and Henry Wilson as Vice-President. The defeat of Mr. Colfax for renomination was attributable to the bitter hostility of some of the Washington newspaper correspondents, and to the free use of money among the delegates from the Southern States, under the pretense that it was to be used for the establishment of newspapers and for campaign expenses. Mr. Wilson had sent from Washington all the money that he could raise, and he had been liberally aided by Mr. Buffington, of Massachusetts.
Mr. Colfax was badly served by his own immediate friends and advocates. The Indiana delegation were at first quite immoderate in their mode of demanding their favorite statesman's renomination. One gentleman, himself an editor, was especially bitter at the activity of Mr. Wilson's newspaper friends, and declared he would mark them all in his paper. Such declarations made what begun in good feeling toward Mr. Wilson, and a considerable share of a fun- loving spirit, a strong and determined contest. Then in the New York and other delegations there were gentlemen who represented large employing and moneyed interests, as Mr. Orton, of the Western Union Telegraph Company, Mr. Shoemaker, of Adams Express, and Mr. Franchot, familiarly known as "Goat Island Dick," the principal attorney of the California Central Pacific for legislative favors from Congress. These and other gentlemen identified with great corporate interests were at first even bitterly hostile to Mr. Wilson's candidacy, and to the last urged that of Mr. Colfax. There was considerable fun in the conflict, which was, in the main, conducted with good-nature on both sides. Mr. Colfax was by no means without newspaper friends. Mr. Bowles, though a Greeley man, did him quiet but continuous service. Messrs. Jones and Jennings, of the New York Times, were present, and were understood to have exerted themselves for the Vice-President's renomination. Mr. Holloway, of the Indianapolis Journal, was very active. Colonel Forney pronounced for Mr. Colfax through the Press, though his son, the managing editor, shared in the good feeling of the Washington correspondents toward the Senator.
The campaign was a very earnest one, and every citizen had to listen to campaign speeches, attend ward meetings and conventions, subscribe for the expenses of torchlight processions, if he did not march therein, and thus fortify his intellect and strengthen his conscience for the quadrennial tilt with his friends over the relative merits of candidates and the proper elucidation of issues involved. For the first time civil-service reform was advocated by the Republicans, in accordance with the recommendations of General Grant in his message, and was opposed by those who (to paraphrase Brinsley Sheridan) believed that "there is no more conscience in politics than in gallantry."
When Congress met in December, 1872, General Grant made the gratifying announcement that the differences between the United States and Great Britain had been settled by the tribunal of arbitration, which had met at Geneva, in a manner entirely satisfactory to the Government of the United States. He also congratulated the country on the coming Centennial celebration at Philadelphia, the completion of the ninth census, the successful working of the Bureau of Education, the operations of the Department of Agriculture, and the civil-service reform which Congress had been so reluctant to consider.
The New Year's reception at the commencement of 1873 was a crowded affair. Mrs. Grant wore a dress of pearl-gray silk, flounced and trimmed with silk of a darker hue and with point lace. Mrs. Fish wore an elaborately trimmed dress of Nile-green silk, and was accompanied by her young daughter, in blue silk. Mrs. Boutwell wore a black velvet dress trimmed with white lace, and her daughter a pale-blue silk dress trimmed with black lace, and Mrs. Attorney- General Williams wore a dress of Nile-green silk, trimmed with Valenciennes lace. Lady Thornton wore a dress of royal purple velvet, elegantly trimmed, and the bride of the Minister from Ecuador wore a dress of sage-green silk, with a sleeveless velvet jacket, and a velvet hat of the same shade.
The army, the navy, the Diplomatic Corps, and the judiciary were out in full force. There were nice people, questionable people, and people who were not nice at all in the crowd. Every state, every age, every social class, both sexes, and all human colors were represented. There were wealthy bankers, and a poor, blind, black beggar led by a boy; men in broadcloth and men in homespun; men with beards and men without beards; members of the press and of the lobby; contractors and claim agents; office-holders and office-seekers; there were ladies from Paris in elegant attire, and ladies from the interior in calico; ladies whose cheeks were tinged with rouge, and others whose faces were weather-bronzed by out-door work; ladies as lovely as Eve, and others as naughty as Mary Magdalene; ladies in diamonds, and others in dollar jewelry; chambermaids elbowed countesses, and all enjoyed themselves. After the official reception at the White House the Secretaries and other dignitaries hurried to their respective homes, there in their turn to receive visits. The foreign diplomats did not receive, but with the army and navy men and the citizens "generally" went "the grand rounds." The older citizens had hospitable spreads, including hot canvas-back ducks, terrapin, and well-filled punch-bowls, and veteran callers got in the work as ususal, but at most houses intoxicating drinks were dispensed with, and there were no such exhibitions of drunkenness as had disgraced former years.
Senator Sumner, who had left the Presidential contest and gone to Europe returned to his Senatorial duties and "accepted the situation." Early in the session he introduced a bill prohibiting the future publication of names of Union victories in the Army Register or their inscription on the regimental colors of the army. This step toward an oblivion of past difficulties was highly acceptable to General Grant, who conveyed to Mr. Sumner his appreciation of the olive branch thus extended. Others were not disposed to regard his movement with a friendly eye, and the Legislature of Massachusetts passed a resolution censuring him.
Mr. Sumner survived a few months only, when, after a very brief illness, he died at his house in Washington. When he was gone, men of all political parties joined heartily in eulogizing the deceased statesman. A mourning nation paid homage to his pure heart, to his sense of duty and right, to his courageous willingness to bear obloquy, to his unwearied industry--in short, to that rare union of qualities which impart such grandeur to his memory. Even the jealousies and schemes of the living were restrained, as the second-rate heroes of ancient days postponed their contest for the armor of Achilles until last honors had been paid to the memory of the illustrious departed. In Doric Hall in the State House at Boston his remains finally lay in state amid a lavish display of floral tokens, which were sent from all classes and localities, Massachusetts thus emphatically indorsing her son, whom she had so lately censured.
Senator Sumner left behind him a few printed copies of a speech which he had prepared for delivery in the Senate before the then recent Presidential election, each copy inscribed in his own handwriting, "private and confidential." He had written it when inspired with the belief that with the Administration he was a proscribed man; but his friends convinced him that it would not be best for him to throw down this gauntlet of defiance. He had, therefore, decided not to make public the indictment which he had prepared, and the few copies of it which had been given to friends was not, as was asserted, the report of a "posthumous speech." Its publication after his death by those to whom copies had been intrusted in confidence was an unpardonable breach of trust.
The great Massachusetts Senator had for years stood before the country with a strong individuality which had separated him from the machine politicians, and placed him among the statesmen of the Republic. Before the roll of the Northern drums was heard in the South, he had defiantly denounced the slave-holders in the Capitol, and when the thunder of artillery drowned the voice of oratory, he earnestly labored to have the war overthrow and eradicate slavery. Just as his hopes were realized, and as he was battling for civil rights for the enfranchised race, his life, for which his friends anticipated a long twilight, was unexpectedly brought to a close. Yet there is something so melancholy in the slow decline of great mental powers, that those who loved him the best felt a sort of relief that he had suddenly thrown off his load of domestic sorrow and passed across the dark stream into the unknown land while still in the possession of his energies.
[Facsimile] Yours truly H. Wilson HENRY WILSON, born at Framington, N. H., February 16th, 1812; member Massachusetts House of Representatives, 1840, and served four years in the State Senate, being twice its presiding officer; United States Senator, 1855-1871; Vice-President, March 4th, 1873 - November 22d, 1875, when he died.
XXVI. A NEW TERM BEGUN
General Grant's second inauguration on Tuesday, March 4th, 1873, was shorn of its splendor by the intense cold weather. The wind blew in a perfect gale from the southwest, sweeping away the flags and other decorations from private houses and making it very disagreeable for the, nevertheless, large crowds of spectators. When the procession started from the White House, so intense was the cold that the breath of the musicians condensed in the valves of their instruments, rendering it impossible for them to play, and many of the cadets and soldiers had to leave the ranks half frozen, while the customary crowds of civilians were completely routed by the cutting blasts. The procession was headed by the regulars, followed by a battalion of half frozen West Point cadets in their light gray parade uniforms, and another of midshipmen from the Annapolis Naval School in dark blue. A division of gayly uniformed citizen-soldiers followed, including the Boston Lancers in their scarlet coats, with pennons fluttering from their lances, and the First Troop of the Philadelphia City Cavalry, which had escorted almost every preceding President, and which carried its historic flag, which was the first bearing thirteen stripes, and which was presented to the Troop in 1775.
General Grant, with a member of the Congressional Committee, rode in his own open barouche, drawn by four bay horses. In the next carriage was Henry Wilson, Vice-President, escorted by another member of the Committee, and the President's family followed. After the military came political clubs in citizens' attire, with bands and banners, the Washington Fire Department bringing up the rear.
Meanwhile the Senate had closed the labors of the Forty-second Congress, and chairs were placed in the chamber for the dignitaries, who soon began to arrive. The members of the Diplomatic Corps wore their court dresses and were resplendent with gold lace and embroidery. Chief Justice Chase, who came in at the head of the Supreme Court, looked well, although strangely changed by his full gray beard, which concealed all the lines of his face. General Sherman had been persuaded by his staff to appear in the new uniform of his rank, but, to their disgust, he wore with it a pair of bright yellow kid gloves. There were other high officers of the army and navy, with the heads of the executive departments, on the floor of the Senate, and the members of the defunct House of Representatives, who came trooping in after their adjournment, formed a background for the scene.
At twelve o'clock, Vice-President Colfax delivered a brief valedictory address, and then Henry Wilson, Vice-President-elect, delivered his salutatory, took the prescribed oath, and swore in the Senators- elect. A procession was then formed, which slowly wended its way through the rotunda to the customary platform over the steps of the eastern portico. When General Grant appeared hearty cheers were given by the vast crowd, estimated at not less then twenty thousand in number, packed behind the military escort on the plaza before the Capitol. Chief Justice Chase again administered the oath of office, and the President advanced, uncovered, to the front of the platform, and read his re-inaugural address. The wind blew a tempest at times, nearly wrenching the manuscript from his hands. No sooner had he finished reading than the salute from a neighboring light battery was echoed by the guns in the Navy Yard, the Arsenal, and at two or three forts on the Virginia side of the Potomac, which had not yet been dismantled. Before the echoes of the salutes had fairly died away, the procession started to escort President Grant back to the White House, the bleak wind making nearly every one tremble and shiver.
The city was illuminated in the early evening, and the new wooden pavement on Pennsylvania Avenue, cleared of all vehicles by the police, was covered by the throng of shivering men, women, and children. The light in the tholus over the great dome of the Capitol shone like a beacon far above the rows of colored lanterns which were hung in festoons from the trees among the sidewalks. Calcium lights added to the brilliancy of the scene, and many private houses and stores were illuminated with gas or candles. At nine o'clock there was a display of fireworks on the park south of the White House, the rockets shooting comet-like across the clear, star-dotted sky, dropping showers of colored fire in their flight. All the while the wind blew fiercely, and the cold was intensified, but the crowd seemed oblivious to the wintry blast.
At the inauguration ball, held in an immense temporary building, which had no heating apparatus, the ladies were compelled to wear their wrappings, and the gentlemen kept on their overcoats and hats as they endeavored to keep warm by vigorous dancing. Mrs. Grant, who wore a white silk dress trimmed with black Chantilly lace, shivered as she stood by the side of her husband on the dais, and the members and the ladies of the Diplomatic Corps remained but a few moments. The supper, which had been prepared at a large expense, was emphatically a cold repast. The ornamental devices in ice- cream were frozen into solid chunks, and the champagne and punch were forsaken for hot coffee and chocolate, the only things warm in the building. The guests, each one of whom had paid twenty dollars for a ticket, were frozen out before midnight.
Chief Justice Chase never appeared in public after this inauguration, but died on the 7th of May following. An effort was made to have Justice Miller promoted, but President Grant positively declined doing so, on the ground that to raise any Associate Justice over his brothers would be to deepen jealousies not wholly invisible there, so he tendered the important position to Roscoe Conkling, then a United States Senator from New York, whose great intellectual powers especially qualified him to be the successor of Marshall and of Taney. Some of Mr. Conkling's friends urged him to accept the place, while others, who desired to see him President of the United States, prevailed on him to remain in political life and to decline the President's offer. General Grant then nominated as Chief Justice his Attorney-General, George H. Williams, of Oregon, but this awakened the jealousies of Justice Miller, whose son-in- law, Colonel Corkhill, commenced a vigorous attack upon the nomination in the Washington Chronicle, which he then edited. There were also some grave scandals in Washington society about a number of anonymous letters which had been written, it was intimated, by Mrs. Williams. When the Senate met it soon became apparent that the nomination of Mr. Williams could not be confirmed, and it was withdrawn at his own request. Having come to him without his own agency, he lost nothing in letting it go except some unpleasant experiences.
The President then nominated Caleb Cushing, who was more objectionable to the Court than Mr. Williams had been. The Chronicle boiled with rage, and other journals admitted that even if Mr. Cushing had caught the spirit of the age and taken a long stride out of his old errors of opinion, he was not a man to be placed on the bench of the Supreme Court, when full civil rights had not been accorded to the negro and many important questions connected with the war had not been settled. On the other hand, Senators Sumner and Boutwell, of Massachusetts, vouched for Mr. Cushing's Republican record, and his loyalty and soundness on the measures of the war and reconstruction. He would have been confirmed beyond doubt had it not been for a letter written by him at the breaking out of the Rebellion, to Jefferson Davis, commending a clerk in the Attorney- General's office, who considered it his duty to join his relatives at the South, for a position in the Confederate civil service. The publication of this letter, which really contained nothing objectionable beyond the fact that Mr. Cushing had recommended a faithful clerk to an old personal friend as an honest and industrious man, was made the most of. It was published by Colonel Corkhill in large type with flaming headlines, as evidence of a secret understanding between Mr. Cushing and the leader of the Rebellion. Senator Sargent, who was hostile to Mr. Cushing, his townsman, read this letter in a Republican caucus, and it fell upon the Senators assembled like a heavy clap of thunder, while Senator Brownlow (more extensively known as Parson Brownlow) keenly said that he thought the caucus had better adjourn, convene the Senate in open session, and remove Mr. Cushing's political disabilities. Mr. Cushing, learning what had transpired, immediately wrote a letter to the President requesting him to withdraw his nomination. In this letter he reviewed his acts since the commencement of the war and declared, in conclusion, that whatever might have been said, either honestly or maliciously, to his prejudice, it was his right to reaffirm that he had "never done an act, uttered a word, or conceived a thought of disloyalty to the Constitution or the Union." The President next nominated Morrison R. Waite, of Ohio, who had been connected with the Alabama Claims Conference at Geneva, and who was a men of eminent legal abilities, conscientious, and of great purity of character. No objection could be offered to the confirmation of his nomination, and it was unanimously made.
Mr. Edwin M. Stanton had previously been appointed a Justice of the Supreme Court through the exertions of Senator Wade, of Ohio. "The War Secretary" had left the department over which he had energetically presided, and was suffering from heart disease. He deemed himself a neglected man and rapidly sunk into a listless condition, with no action in it, but with occasional spells of energetic sickness. Mr. Wade came on from Ohio about this time, and went to see his friend. Just then there was considerable talk that Associate Justice Grier was about to retire from the Supreme Court. Mr. Wade deemed his friend neglected, and also thought it unintentional on the part of the President. It conversation he drew from Mr. Stanton the admission that he would like to be appointed to the Supreme Bench. Just before leaving Wade said he meant to ask Grant for the position, in the event of Grier's retirement. Mr. Stanton forbade the action, but Wade declined to be as modest as was the organizer of victorious armies and their administration. He went direct to the White House, and at the door found the President going for a drive in his phaeton. He was invited to go along, and at once availed himself of the opportunity. During the ride he spoke about Mr. Stanton. The President listened carefully and said he had promised to consider Mr. Strong's name, and had supposed Mr. Stanton would not take the position even if offered to him. Mr. Wade gave the conversation he had had with Mr. Stanton. There the matter ended. Mr. Wade went home. Mr. Stanton remained quietly at his home.
Finally Judge Grier resigned, and, to the surprise of most persons, Edwin M. Stanton was tendered and accepted the position. He qualified by taking the oath of office, but never sat in that high tribunal to try a case. One cannot help wondering what might have resulted from his presence there. But he never had the opportunity of proving that the man who was so fierce and implacable as a War Minister could have been as calm and judicially impartial on the bench as Story himself. There are many at Washington who believe that Mr. Stanton committed suicide by cutting his throat with a razor. Caleb Cushing was positive that he did, and investigated the matter so far as he could, but Hon. E. D. McPherson, of Pennsylvania, for years the efficient clerk of the House of Representatives, procured from the attendant physician a statement that it was not so, but that Mr. Stanton died a natural death.
The marriage of General Grant's only and much-loved daughter, Ellen Wrenshall Grant, to Algernon Charles Frederic Sartoris, at the White House, on the 21st of May, 1874, was a social event in Washington. It was no secret that General Grant had not approved of the engagement between his daughter, not then nineteen years of age, and the young Englishman who had enlisted her affection on the steamer while she was returning from abroad. But when the fond father found that her heart was set on the match he yielded, although it was a hard struggle to have her leave home and go abroad among strangers. The ceremony was performed in the East Room by the Rev. Dr. O. H. Tiffany. There were eight bridesmaids, and Colonel Fred Grant was the bridegroom's best man.
The bride wore a white satin dress, trimmed with point lace, a bridal veil which completely enveloped her, with a wreath of white flowers and green leaves interspersed with orange blossoms. The eight bridesmaids wore dresses of white corded silk, alike in every particular, with overdresses of white illusion, sashes of white silk arranged in a succession of loops from the waist downward, forming graceful drapery. Mrs. Grant, who was in mourning, wore a mauve-colored silk dress, trimmed with a deeper shade of the same, with ruffles and puffs of black illusion, lavender-colored ribbon, and bunches of pansies. The banquet was served in the state dining-room, with the bride's cake in the centre of the elaborately decorated table.
[Facsimile] M. R. Waite Chief Justice MORRISON REMICH WAITE was born at Lynn, Connecticut, December 29th, 1816; was graduated at Yale College when twenty-two years of age; studied law; went to Ohio in 1838, and was there admitted to the bar in 1839; settled at Toledo; was a member of the State Legislature in 1843; was defeated as a Republican candidate for Congress in 1862; was counsel for the United States before the Geneva Award Commission in 1871, and was presiding over the State Constitutional Convention of Ohio when he was appointed Chief Justice of the United States, in January, 1874.
XXVII. CORRUPTION IN OFFICIAL LIFE
The Democrats, having secured possession of the House of Representatives, organized upward of fifty committees of investigation, which cast their drag-nets over every branch of the administration, hoping to find some evidence of corruption in which the President had shared; but he most searching investigation failed to connect the name or fame of General Grant with any of this traditional "picking and stealing." Witnesses were summoned by the score, reams of paper were covered with short-hand notes of testimony, and some of the committees traveled far and wide in search of the evidence they desired. They found nothing, but they reminded Massachusetts men of old Captain Starbuck, of Nantucket, a philosophical old sea-dog, who never permitted bad luck to dampen his faith or his good spirits. Returning home from a three years' whaling voyage, with an empty hold, he was boarded by the pilot, an old acquaintance, who asked:
"Waal, Cap'n Starbuck, how many bar'ls? Had a good v'yage?"
"Not 'zackly," responded the Captain, "I haint got a bar'l of ile aboard, but I'll tell ye, I've had a mighty good sail."
Just as they were about to give up in despair, a jealous woman revealed the fact that Caleb P. Marsh, of New York, had received the appointment of post-trader at Fort Sill through the endeavors of his wife with the wife of the Secretary of War, General Belknap. Marsh made a contract with the trader already there, permitting him to continue, in consideration of twelve thousand dollars of the annual profits, divided in quarterly installments. The money thus received was divided with the Secretary of War for two years by remittances to Mrs. Belknap, but subsequently a reduced amount of six thousand dollars a year, agreed on with the post-trader, was similarly divided by remittances direct to the Secretary.
When General Belknap was transplanted from a revenue collector's office in Iowa to the Department of War, he brought his wife with him to Washington, and they occupied the house just before vacated by Secretary Seward. Other Cabinet officers gave parties, and so did the Belknaps, but they had been too liberal with their invitations, especially to the young officers just fresh from army life, and there was a great deal of disorder, with accompanying damage to curtains, carpets, and furnishings. The result was that the Belknaps were either obliged to retire from society and inhabit a cheap boarding-house, or replenish the family coffers. Alas! the tempting Marsh appeared on the stage, and the temptation could not be resisted. Mrs. Belknap died not long afterward, but her sister, the widow of Colonel Bowers, of the Confederate service, inherited her "spoils of war," was a mother to her child, and in due time became the wife of her husband.
In the interval of time required by decorum Mrs. Bowers traveled in Europe, accompanied by Mrs. Marsh and escorted by George H. Pendleton, of Ohio. Returning home, Mrs. Bowers was married to General Belknap on the 11th of December, 1875, Mr. Pendleton giving the bride away. A handsomer or an apparently happier couple never came to Washington in their honeymoon, and they were at once recognized among the leaders of society. Her dresses and jewels were among the favorite themes of the industrious lady journalists who get up marvelous accounts of Washington entertainment, and they were worthy of comment. I well remember having seen her one night wearing one of Worth's dresses, of alternate stripes of white satin embroidered with ivy leaves, and green satin embroidered with golden ears of wheat, with a sweeping train of green satin bordered with a heavy embroidered garland of ivy and wheat. A cluster of these in gold and emerald was in her black hair, and she wore a full set of large emeralds, set in Etruscan gold. The costume was faultless, and fitted to adorn the queenlike woman.
No one who had seen Mrs. Belknap wondered at the fascination she exercised over her husband, or thought it strange that he who seemed so sternly scrupulous about the expenditure of public money, should have sacrificed his reputation that she might be known as the best- dressed woman in Washington society. Perhaps, too, it was remembered that he had brought from the camp one of its legacies. Few post commanders refused the original delicacies for the mess-table at head-quarters from the post sutler who desired to keep on the right side of those in authority. Why, then, could not the Secretary of War permit his wife to receive a douceur from one of those cormorants, who always grow rich, and who may without harm be made to lay down a fraction of their extortionate gains?
Mrs. Lincoln, it was well known, had accepted a shawl worth one thousand dollars from A. T. Stewart when he was supplying large amounts of clothing and blankets to the arms, and she had also been liberally remembered by those who had sold a steamer at an exorbitant price to the Government. General Grant had been the recipient of many presents, and the epoch had been styled by Charles Sumner one of "gift enterprises."
General Belknap had promptly resigned, but it became politically necessary that he should be impeached. He had as his counsel three able lawyers whose personal appearance was very dissimilar. Ex- Senator Carpenter, who was leading counsel, was a man of very elegant presence, though his short neck and high shoulders made it impossible for him to be classed as a handsome man. His fine head, with abundant iron-gray hair, tossed carelessly back from his forehead, his keen eyes and expressive mouth, shaded by a black moustache, made up a very noticeable portrait, and his voice was so musical and penetrating that it lent a charm to the merest trifle that he uttered. Judge Jeremiah S. Black was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a clean-shaven, rugged face, a bright-brown wig, and a sharp pair of eyes that flashed from under snow-white brows, which made the brown wig seem still more brown. He chewed tobacco constantly, and the restless motion of his jaws, combined with the equally restless motion of his eyes made his a remarkable countenance. Montgomery Blair was a plain-looking man, as "lean as a racer," and evidently as eager for the work before him, though his manner was very quiet, and his bearing had none of the keen intentness that characterized his associates. The trio carried General Belknap safely through his troubles. The evidence was very remarkable and gave a curious picture of "Vanity Fair." The bargain made by Marsh with the first wife; the huckstering and business matters growing out of it, talked about and discussed over her coffin; the marriage of the Secretary soon after with the sister of the then dead wife; the frequent and enormous sums paid by Marsh to him; the ominous hints whispered about the mysterious interviews at the Arlington; the hurried exposure; the frantic efforts to avoid it; the malignant gratification shown by the Marshses, "we built the foundation on which they grew; we'll hurl them from it into a quicksand from which they will never emerge;" the admissions of guilt made by the unhappy Secretary at a moment when, as it had been suggested, he was contemplating suicide; the imprisonment in his own house; their style of living; the fact of their appearance at a large dinner- party at the Freeman Mansion, adjoining the Arlington, where, the very day after the testimony of the Marshes had been taken, their haggard looks and nervous manner excited general comment, which was not entirely silenced by their early departure on the plea of indisposition; the first effort of manliness on the part of the fallen Secretary, begging that the women might be spared, and he alone be allowed to assume the responsibility; his appearance one day at a Cabinet meeting and the next day held as a prisoner in the dock of the police court, waiting for five long hours the appearance of friends to bail him out;--all these presented elements of such a character as to give the case a singular and sad peculiarity which we look for in vain in that of any other known to our records of criminal jurisprudence. Nor was all this palliated in any way by the conduct and manner of the alleged criminal. He saw the point and smiled sympathetically at every effort of his counsel to be witty and amusing, while another party at home claimed sympathy from her friends by the strange announcement that "it was such a shame that the politicians should be allowed to prosecute such a man as General B. in such a manner; the President ought to interfere and prevent it."
The "Whisky Ring" was the creation of Cornelius Wendell and other noted Washington lobbyists. It became necessary to raise money at the time of the impeachment of Andrew Johnson, and the revenue officers, having been called on to contribute, conceived the idea of making the distillers pay a percentage on their ill-gotten gains. Secretary Bristow's efforts to break up these fraudulent and unlawful transactions showed the immensity of the combination of capital and ingenuity employed in cheating the Government. The weekly payments to the Ring amounted to millions, and for some years some of the participants pocketed four or five hundred dollars a week as their share.
Senator Henderson, of Missouri, who had become provoked against President Grant, having been retained as counsel for the prosecution of some of the Missouri distillers, reported that General O. E. Babcock, who had served on General Grant's staff during the closing years of the war, and had since been one of the private secretaries at the White House, was deeply implicated. The result was that General Babcock was tried before the United States Court for the Eastern District of Missouri. The trial showed that General Babcock had had more intimate relations with the Whisky Ring in St. Louis than any political necessity could justify, and the correspondence revealed an almost culpable indiscretion in one occupying a high position near the President. The trial occupied fourteen days. No portion of the evidence was kept back from the jury, and the verdict of "not guilty" under such circumstances was as complete an exoneration from the charge of conspiring to defraud the Government as the most ardent friends of General Babcock could have desired.
[Facsimile] Matt H.Carpenter MATTHEW H. CARPENTER was born at Moretown, Vermont, in 1824; was at the Military Academy, at West Point, 1843-1845; studied law with Rufus Choate; was admitted to the bar, and commenced practice at Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in 1848; was a United States Senator from Wisconsin, March 4th, 1869 - March 3d, 1875, and again March 18th, 1879, until his death at Washington City, February 24th, 1881.
XXVIII. THE CENTENNIAL GLORY
The Centennial year of the Republic was ushered in at Washington with unusual rejoicings, although the weather was damp and foggy. There were nocturnal services in several of the Episcopal churches and watch meetings at the Methodist churches. Several of the temperance organizations continued in session until after midnight, and there was much social visiting. Just before twelve o'clock, the chime of bells of the Metropolitan Methodist church played "Pleyel's Hymn." The fire-alarm bells then stuck 1-7-7-6 a few moments later, and as the Observatory clock sounded the hour of twelve, the fire-alarm bells struck 1-8-7-6; at the same moment the brilliant light in the tholus which surmounts the dome of the Capitol was lighted by electricity, casting its beams over the entire metropolis. A battery of light artillery, stationed on the Armory lot, thundered forth a national salute of thirty-seven guns. The Metropolitan bells chimed a national centennial march, introducing the favorite tunes of this and other nations, and there was general ringing of bells, large and small, with firing of pistols and blowing of horns. There were similar demonstrations at Alexandria and at Georgetown, and the ceremonies at the White House were in accordance with time-honored usage.
The first entertainment ever given in Washington to an Emperor and Empress was at the British Legation, early in June, 1876, when Sir Edward and Lady Thornton entertained Dom Pedro and Donna Teresa, of Brazil. The spacious hall, the grand staircase, and the drawing- rooms of the Legation were profusely ornamented with flowers, a life-sized portrait of Victoria I, Empress of India and Queen of England, which faced the staircase, apparently welcoming the guests. Many of those invited had been on an excursion to Mount Vernon and did not arrive until eleven o'clock.
The ladies' dresses were very elaborate. The Empress wore a vert d'eau silk trained skirt and basque high at the back and cut V- shape in front, the sleeves long; the rarest point lace nearly covered both skirt and basque, set on in successive rows, headed with plaits of the material; a broad black velvet ribbon, from which depended a pendant thickly studded with large diamonds, encircled her throat. She wore large diamond ear-rings, and her light-brown hair was combed down on her face, parted through the middle, and covering her ears, a Grecian knot confining her hair at the back of her head.
Lady Thornton wore a white satin trained skirt and basque, trimmed with puffings of tulle, held in place by bands and bows of the darkest shade of ruby velvet, interspersed with fine white flowers. The Misses Thornton wore charming gowns of Paris muslin and Valenciennes lace, relieved with bows of pink gros grain ribbons. Mme. Borges, the wife of the Brazilian Minister, wore a mauve silk gown, trimmed with lace, and very large diamonds. Countess Hayas, the wife of the Austrian Minister, wore Paris muslin and Valenciennes lace over pale blue silk, which was very becoming to her blonde complexion and youthful face and form, and a profusion of diamonds. The lately arrived Minister from Sweden, Count Lewenhaupt, was present with his wife, whose dress of the thickest, most lustrous satin of a peach-blossom tint, covered with deep falls of point lace, was very elegant. Mrs. Franklin Kinney wore a rich mauve satin beneath point applique lace. Mme. Berghmann wore black silk, embroidered in wreaths of invisible purple, and trimmed with Brussels lace. Mrs. Field wore a very becoming vert d'eau silk, handsomely made and trimmed. Mrs. Willis, the wife of the New York Representative, wore white muslin and Valenciennes lace. Her sister, Mrs. Godfrey, wore a similar toilet, and the two ladies attracted universal attention by their beauty and grace. Mrs. Sharpe was very becomingly dressed in white muslin, trimmed with Valenciennes lace and worn over a colored silk. Miss Dodge (Gail Hamilton), over ivory-tinted silk wore the same tint of damasquine.
Supper was served at midnight, and afterward many of the guests were presented to Dom Pedro and Donna Teresa in an informal manner, for the Emperor was, according to his usual custom, wandering about talking to whom he pleased, and the Empress, not being very strong, sat upon a sofa and talked pleasantly with all who were introduced to her.
The Imperial party had rooms at the Arlington Hotel, and the Emperor proved himself to be an indefatigable sight-seer, keeping on the move from morning until night. He would not permit his dinner to be served in courses, but had everything put on the table at the same time, as he could devote only thirty minutes to his repast.
The proceedings of the National Republican Convention, at Cincinnati, had naturally been regarded with deep interest at Washington, and the excitement was intense when, on the Sunday prior to the meeting, it was announced that Mr. Blaine had been stricken by illness on his way to church. He became unconscious, and on being carried home was for some hours in an apparently critical condition, at times hardly able to breathe and unable to take the restoratives administered by his physicians. His condition was pronounced one of simple cerebral depression, produced primarily by great mental strain, and, secondarily, by the action of excessive heat. There was no apoplectic congestion or effusion, nor any symptoms of paralysis.
The news of Mr. Blaine's illness was telegraphed to Cincinnati, and undoubtedly had an unfavorable effect upon the Convention. Mr. Blaine, nevertheless, had gradually gained votes, until on the second day of the Convention he was within a few votes of the coveted prize. The shadows were settling down on the excited crowd, the tellers found it getting too dark to do their work, and gas was demanded. The Blaine men, in an ungovernable frenzy, were determined to resist every effort at adjournment, while the combined opposition were equally bent on postponement in order to kill off Blaine. Then it was that a well-known citizen of Cincinnati sprang to the platform, waved his hat at the Chairman, and during a moment's lull in the fearful suspense made the crushing statement that the building was not supplied with gas. Candles were asked for, but the anti-Blainites had received their cue, and before the Blaine lines could be reformed they carried an adjournment by stampede. Political lies in this country are presumably white lies, but they are seldom followed with such tremendous results. Delay enabled the opposition to mass its forces against the favorite, and Hayes, instead of Blaine, passed the next four years in the White House. Nothing could have been more certain in this world than the nomination of Blaine on that eventful evening, if the same gas which burned brightly enough twenty-four hours later for a Hayes' jubilee meeting had not been choked off at a more critical time.
Washington was wild with excitement immediately after the Presidential election. The returns received late on Tuesday night indicated the election of Mr. Tilden, and even the Republican newspapers announced on the following morning the result as doubtful. Senator Chandler, who was at New York, was the only confident Republican, and he telegraphed to the Capitol, "Hayes has one hundred and eighty- five votes and is elected." He also telegraphed to General Grant recommending the concentration of United States troops at the Southern capitals to insure a fair count. General Grant at once ordered General Sherman to instruct the commanding generals in Louisiana and Florida to be vigilant with the forces at their command to preserve peace and good order, and to see that the proper and legal boards of canvassers were unmolested in the performance of their duties. "Should there be," said he, "any grounds of suspicion of fraudulent count on either side, it should be reported and denounced at once. No man worthy of the office of President should be willing to hold it if counted in or placed there by fraud. Either party can afford to be disappointed by the result. The country cannot afford to have the result tainted by the suspicion of illegal or false returns."
Some were disposed to wait, with as much patience and good-humor as they could command, the news from the pivotal States, while others shouted frantically about fraud. A number of leading politicians were sent by each party to the State capitals, where the National interest was concentrated, and the telegraph wires vibrated with political despatches, many of them in cipher. Senator Morrill was requested by the Rothschilds to telegraph them who was elected President at as early a time as was convenient. He replied on Wednesday that the canvass was close, with the chances in favor of Tilden; but on Friday he telegraphed again that Hayes was probably elected.
The political telegrams sent over the Western Union wires during the Tilden-Hayes campaign were subsequently surrendered by President Orton, of that company, to the Senate Committee on Privileges and Elections. It was asserted that those likely to prove prejudicial to Republicans were destroyed, and those damaging to Democrats were clandestinely conveyed to a New York paper for publication. These political telegrams showed that the intimate friends of Mr. Tilden were guilty of an attempt to secure the Presidential elections in several States by the use of money. The translation of these cryptogramic messages by a working journalist, and their publication in the New York Tribune, was a great success, as it made clear what had previously been unintelligible. When a Committee of the House of Representatives undertook to investigate these cipher telegrams, the principal witness was Colonel Pelton, the nephew and private secretary of Mr. Tilden. His testimony was given in an apparently frank and straightforward manner, though he occasionally seemed perplexed, pondered, and hesitated. He had a loud, hard, and rather grating voice, and delivered his answers with a quick, jerky, nervous utterance, which often jumbled his words so as to render them partially inaudible. Colonel Pelton's tone in reply to the questions propounded to him during the examination-in-chief was loud and emphatic, as though he wanted all the world to understand that he was perfectly ready to answer every question put by the Committee. He sat easily, either throwing one leg over the other, facing the Chairman, or picking his teeth, or blinking his eyes hard, which was one of his peculiar habits, as he kept examining the photo-lithographed copies of the cipher telegrams and the Tribune compilation before him. Sometimes Colonel Pelton's blunt confessions were of such astounding frankness as to elicit an audible whisper and commotion, what the French call a "sensation," among the listeners.
Colonel Pelton's loud voice sank very low, and his easy, nonchalant attitude changed very perceptibly, when Messrs. Reed and Hiscock, the Republican members, took him in hand and subjected him to one of the most merciless cross-examinations ever heard in a committee room. The two keen cross-questioners evidently started out with the determined purpose to tear Colonel Pelton's testimony to pieces, and to literally not leave a shred behind worthy of credibility. The respective "points" scored by the Republicans and the Democratic members of the Committee elicited such loud applause on the part of the auditors as to turn for the time the cross-examination into a regular theatrical exhibition. The cipher despatches confirmed the opinion at Washington that Mr. Tilden spent a great deal of money to secure his nomination, and much more during and after the campaign.
Disappointed politicians and place-hunters among the Democrats talked wildly about inaugurating Mr. Tilden by force, while some Republicans declared that General Grant would assume to hold over until a new election could be ordered. General Grant made no secret of his conviction that Mr. Hayes had been lawfully elected, and he would undoubtedly have put down any revolutionary movement against his assuming the Chief Magistracy on the 4th of March, but there is no evidence that he intended to hold over. Neither did the Republican leaders in the Senate and House intend that he should hold over, in any contingency. There were Republican Congressmen, however, who intended to elect Senator Morton President pro tempore of the Senate, and, in the event of a failure to have a formal declaration of Mr. Hayes' election in the joint Convention, to have had Senator Morton declared President of the United States.
Meanwhile, it was positively asserted, and never authoritatively denied, that a compact had been entered into between representatives of Southern Congressmen and the authorized friends of Mr. Hayes at Wormley's Hotel, in Washington, by which it was agreed that the Union troops were to be withdrawn from the South in consideration of the neutrality of the Southern vote in Congress on all questions involving the inauguration of Mr. Hayes as President of the United States.
[Facsimile] JamesGBlaine JAMES GILLESPIE BLAINE was born in Washington County, Pennsylvania, January 31st, 1830; adopted the editorial profession; was a member of the Maine Legislature, 1859-1862; was a Representative from Maine, 1863-1876; was United States Senator from Maine, 1876-1880; was Secretary of State under Presidents Garfield and Arthur, March 5th, 1881 - December 12th, 1881; was nominated for President by the Republican Convention, at Chicago, June 3d-6th, 1884, and was defeated.
XXIX. THE ELECTORAL COMMISSION
The Electoral Commission was a cunningly devised plan for declaring Mr. Hayes legally elected President. In the then feverish condition of parties at the Capitol, with no previously arranged plan for adjusting controverted questions, it was evident that some plan should be devised for a peaceful solution of the difficulty. Republicans conceived the idea of an Electoral Commission, to be composed of five Senators, five Representatives, and five Associate Justices of the Supreme Court. No sooner had Mr. Tilden and his conservative friends agreed to the Commission, in which he would have had one majority, than Judge David Davis, of the Supreme Court, was elected a United States Senator. This made it necessary to select Judge Bradley as the man who was to hold the balance of power.
The debate in the Senate on the bill establishing the Electoral Commission was deeply interesting, as several of those who participated were prominent candidates for the Presidency. There was an especial desire to hear Senator Conkling, who had "sulked in his tent" since the Cincinnati Convention, and the galleries were crowded with noted men and women, diplomats, politicians, soldiers and journalists from all sections of the Republic.
Mr. Conkling took the floor late in the afternoon. Tall, well proportioned, with his vest opening down to the waist and displaying his full chest and broad shoulders to the best advantage, his hair tossed back from his massive brow with studied carelessness, his white and slender hands set off by spotless linen, he looked every inch a Senator. Before him, on the desk, were his notes, daintily inscribed on gilt-edged, cream-tinted paper; but he did not refer to them, having committed his remarks so thoroughly that many believed them to have been extemporaneous. His speech was pronounced by good judges as the greatest specimen of "the art which conceals art" that has ever been delivered in this country. With apparent candor, good nature, and disinterested statesmanship, he adroitly stated his side of the case, reviewing what had been done at previous Presidential elections, and showing that he had given the subject careful study. As dinner-time approached, Senator Edmunds stated that Mr. Conkling was not physically able to finish his speech, and moved that the Senate go into the consideration of executive business.
The next day the Senator from New York was not present, and after a recess had been taken for ten minutes, in the hope that he would arrive, Senator Sargent, of California, took the floor. Mr. Conkling finally came in, and when he began to speak, appeared to be in better health than on the day previous, and he again uttered his well-rounded sentences as if without premeditation. Once he forgot himself, when, to give additional emphasis to a remark, he advanced across the aisle toward Senator Morton. The Senator from Indiana retreating, Mr. Conkling exclaimed, in the most dramatic tone, "I see that the Senator retreats before what I say!" "Yes," replied Senator Morton, in his blunt way, "I retreated as far as I could from the false doctrine taught by the gentleman from New York." "Mr. President," said Senator Conkling, evidently disconcerted, "the honorable Senator observes that he has retreated as far as he could. That is the command laid on him by the common law. He is bound to retreat to the wall before turning and rending an adversary."
When Mr. Dawes reminded the Senator that the Commission should be made as exact as it would in the State of Massachusetts, he replied that it would not be possible. "The Queen of Sheba," said Mr. Conkling, "said that she never realized the glory of Solomon until she entered the inner Temple. The idea that the Representatives of other States could breathe the upper air, or tread the milky way, never entered into the wildest and most presumptuous flight of the imagination. Oh! no, Mr. President. Whenever the thirty- seven other States attain to the stature of the grand old Commonwealth, the time will come when no problem remains to be solved, and when even contested Presidential votes will count themselves. Then, in every sphere and orbit, everything will move harmoniously, by undeviating and automatic processes."
The debate was prolonged into the night, and it was after midnight before Senator Morton spoke, pale, trembling in every limb, and with his forehead beaded with great drops of perspiration. He spoke sitting in his chair, and for upward of an hour hurled argument after argument at the bill, evidently speaking from deep conviction.
Mr. Blaine, who had been sworn in the day previous, followed Mr. Morton, and created quite a sensation by opposing the bill. The night dragged on, and it was seven o'clock ere the final vote on the passage of the bill was reached. It was passed by a vote of forty-seven ayes against seventeen nays, ten Senators being absent at the time.
The House of Representatives, after a somewhat stormy session, which lasted seven hours, passed the Electoral Commission Bill by one hundred and ninety-one ayes against eighty-six nays. Five- sixths of those voting in favor of the bill were Democrats, and four-fifths of those voting against it were Republicans.
The Electoral Commission, which commenced its sessions on Wednesday, January 31st, was a grand legal exhibition. It occupied the Supreme Court room, which had been made historic when the Senate Chamber by the great debates in which Webster, Clay, Calhoun, and other famous statesmen had participated. The fifteen Commissioners, sitting on the lengthened bench of the Supreme Court, listened in turn to the intricate propositions of constitutional law presented by Mr. Evarts, with his acuteness and dispassionate eloquence; to the partisan harangues of Charles O'Conor, who had risen like one from the grave; to the tirades of David Dudley Field; to the ponderous yet effective reasoning of Joseph McDonald; to the ingenious reasoning of Senator Howe; to the forcible style and flippant wit of Matt. Carpenter; to the polished sentences of Mr. Stoughton; to the graceful and powerful argument of the venerable Judge Campbell, of Louisiana, who had in '61 gone South from the Bench of the Supreme Court, with a number of others.
The counting of the electoral vote on the 2d of February, 1877, attracted crowds to the House of Representatives. Even the diplomats came out in force, and for once their gallery was full. On the floor of the House were many distinguished men, including George Bancroft, Mr. Stoughton, of New York, crowned with a mass of white hair; General Sherman, William M. Evarts, Jere. Black, and Lyman Trumbull. At one o'clock the Senate came over in solemn procession, preceded by the veteran Captain Basset, who had in charge two mahogany boxes, in which were locked the votes upon which the fate of the nation depended. Next came President pro tem. Ferry and Secretary Gorham, followed by the paired Senators. Roscoe Conkling, tall and distinguished in appearance, was arm in arm with Aaron Sargent, the California printer; Bruce, the colored Mississippian, was with Conover, the Florida carpet-bagger; the fair Anglo-Saxon cheeks of Jones, of Nevada, contrasted strongly with the Indian features of General Logan, and finally along came Oliver P. Morton, of Indiana.
President pro tem. Ferry, in a theatrical bass voice, called the Convention to order, and, after stating what it was convened for, opened one of the boxes and handed an envelope to Senator Allison, with a duplicate to Mr. Stone. It was from the State of Alabama, and on being opened, ten votes were recorded for Samuel J. Tilden, of New York. State after State was thus counted until Florida was reached, when the majestic Dudley Field arose and objected to the counting thereof. A brief discussion ensued, and the vote of Florida was turned over to the Electoral Commission. The Senate then returned to its chamber, preceded by the locked boxes, then nearly empty.
It was asserted by those who should have known that Judge Bradley, who had been substituted for Judge Davis, came near, in the discussion on the Florida votes, turning the result in favor of Tilden. After the argument upon the Florida case before the Commission, Judge Bradley wrote out his opinion and read it to Judge Clifford and Judge Field, who were likewise members of the Commission. It contained, first, an argument, and, secondly, a conclusion. The argument was precisely the same as that which appears in the public document; but Judge Bradley's conclusion was that the votes of the Tilden electors in Florida were the only votes which ought to be counted as coming from the State. This was the character of the paper when Judge Bradley finished it and when he communicated it to his colleagues. During the whole of that night Judge Bradley's house in Washington was surrounded by the carriages of Republican visitors, who came to see him apparently about the decision of the Electoral Commission, which was to be announced next day. These visitors included leading Republicans, as well as persons deeply interested in the Texas Pacific Railroad scheme.
When the Commission assembled the next morning, and when the judgment was declared, Judge Bradley gave his voice in favor of counting the votes of the Hayes electors in Florida! The argument he did not deliver at the time; but when it came to be printed subsequently, it was found to be precisely the same as the argument which he had originally drawn up, and on which he had based his first conclusion in favor of the Tilden electors.
Disputed State after disputed State was disposed of, and Washington was stirred with feverish excitement. Every day or two some rumor was started, and those who heard it were elated or depressed, as they happened to hope. But the great mass listened with many grains of allowance, knowing how easy it is at all times for all sorts of stories, utterly without foundation, to get into the public mouth. The obstructionists found that they could not accomplish their purpose to defeat the final announcement, but their persistence was wonderful. They were desperate, reckless, and relentless. Fernando Wood headed, in opposition to them, the party of settlement and peace, his followers being composed in about equal parts of Republicans and of ex-Confederates who turned their backs on the Democratic filibusters. Finally the count was ended, and President pro tem. Ferry announced one hundred and eighty-four votes for Samuel J. Tilden and one hundred and eighty-five votes for Rutherford B. Hayes.
Few personages in Washington during this period were more sought after by visitors than Francis E. Spinner, who, under Lincoln, Johnson, and Grant, held the office of Treasurer of the United States for fourteen successive years. Whether the verdant visitors supposed that his high office enabled him to distribute greenbacks at pleasure to all who came, or whether his remarkable signature, which all the land knew, made him seem a remarkable man, matters little; the fact remains that he was flooded with callers, whom he received with genial cordiality, making all feel that they too had an interest in the money makers of the land.
General Grant, having passed eight years in the army and eight more in the White House, retired to private life without regret. His form had become more rotund while he was President, his weight had increased from one hundred and fifty to one hundred and eighty-five pounds, his reddish-brown hair and beard had become speckled with gray, and he had to use eye-glasses in reading. His features had softened, perhaps, in their determined expression, but his square, massive jaws always gave him a resolute look. He loved to listen better than to talk, but when with friends he would always take part in the conversation, often spicing his sententious remarks with humorous comments. His sentences, at times epigrammatic, were those of "a plain, blunt soldier," but his vigorous economy of words lent additional force to what he said, and he would not only hold his own in a discussion with Senators learned in the law, but would convince his opponents by merely saying his say, and meaning what he said. He was never known while in Washington to tell an indelicate story or to use a profane word, although when slightly excited he would sometimes say, "Dog on it!" to give emphasis to his assertion.
General Grant's Administration was not an unalloyed success. The strength of the Republican party, which might, with a careful, economical, and strictly honest administration, have been maintained for a generation, was frittered away and its voters alienated by causes that need not be recapitulated here. The once noble party, which had its genesis twenty years previous in the great principle of the restriction of human slavery, which had gone from triumph to triumph until slavery was not only restricted but utterly destroyed, the party which had added the salvation of the Union to its fame as the emancipator of a race, had sunk under the combined effects of political money making, inflated currency, whisky rings, revenue frauds, Indian supply steals, and pension swindles. General Grant, though himself honest, appeared unable to discern dishonesty in others, and suffered for the sins of henchmen who contrived to attach to the Republican party an odium which should have attached wholly to themselves.
"It was my fortune or misfortune," said General Grant in his last and eighth annual message to Congress, "to be called to the office of the Chief Executive without any previous political training." A great and successful soldier, he knew absolutely nothing of civil government. His natural diffidence was strangely mingled with the habit of authority, and he undertook all the responsibilities of civil power without any of the training which is essential to its wise exercise, as if his glory as General would more than atone for his deficiencies as President.
[Facsimile] F. E. Spinner FRANCIS E. SPINNER was born at German Flats, New York, January 21st, 1802; was cashier of the Mohawk Valley Bank for twenty years; was a Representative in Congress from New York, December 3d, 1855 - March 3d, 1861; was appointed by President Lincoln Treasurer of the United States March 16th, 1861; was successively re-appointed by Presidents Johnson and Grant; resigned July 1st, 1875, when he retired to private life, passing his winters in Florida.
XXX. INAUGURATION OF PRESIDENT HAYES
Governor Hayes, having been notified by friends at Washington that the electoral count would declare his election as President, left Columbus for the national capital on the afternoon of the first of March. Very early the next morning he was informed by a telegraph operator that the count had been peacefully completed, and that Senator Ferry, the President pro tem. of the Senate, had announced that Rutherford B. Hayes had been duly elected President, and William A. Wheeler Vice-President. This announcement was Mr. Hayes' only notification.
Arriving at Washington at ten o'clock on the morning of the second of March, in a heavy rain-storm, Governor Hayes and his wife were received by Senator Sherman and his brother, General Sherman, who escorted them under umbrellas to a carriage, in which they were driven to the residence of the Senator. After having breakfasted, the President-elect, accompanied by General Sherman and ex-Governor Dennison, went to pay their respects to the President at the Executive Mansion. They were received by General Grant in his private office, and the outgoing and incoming President held a brief conversation on general topics, without, however, alluding to anything of a political character. Subsequently, the members of General Grant's Cabinet came into the room and were introduced to the President-elect. The stay at the White House occupied less than half an hour, and from there the party drove to the Capitol and were ushered into the Vice-President's room, adjoining the Senate Chamber. Here the President-elect held quite a levee, lasting nearly two hours. All of the Republican and most of the Democratic Senators paid their respects to him, those who had no previous acquaintance being introduced by ex-Governor Dennison. The presence of the new President in the Capitol soon became known in the House of Representatives, and a stampede of members followed, thronging the Senate reception room and all the surrounding lobbies. The Georgia delegation paid their respects in a body, and among the callers were many Democrats from other Southern States.
Between this time and the next afternoon there were several important political consultations on the situation, the Cabinet, and the inaugural, with much speculation as to whether Mr. Tilden would take the oath of office as President of the United States upon the following day, March 4th, which fell this year upon Sunday. It was finally decided that the oath should be administered to Governor Hayes on Saturday evening. He was one of a party which had been invited to dine at the Executive Mansion, and while the guests were assembling, Governor and Mrs. Hayes, with two or three friends, stepped into the Red Parlor with General Grant, where the Governor took the oath of office, by which he became de jure and de facto Chief Magistrate of the United States. The proceeding was temporarily kept secret, even from the other guests at the dinner.
Monday, March 5th, was a rainy and cloudy day. Despite the prolonged uncertainty as to the result of the Presidential election, and the short time given for arrangements, the city was crowded. It was estimated that thirty thousand persons left New York for Washington on Saturday and Sunday. Pennsylvania Avenue was gayly attired in waving bunting, the striking features being pyramids or arches composed of flags and streamers of variegated colors, suspended across the avenue by strong cords. The decorations were not so extensive as would have been the case had longer time been afforded for preparation.
The procession was under the direction of Major Whipple, of the army, as Chief Marshal. It was escorted by the United States troops, which had been concentrated at Washington, the Marines, the District Volunteer Militia, the Philadelphia State Fencibles, and the Columbus Cadets. Governor Hayes rode with General Grant in the latter's carriage, and they were followed by the Grand Army of the Republic, Veteran Associations from Philadelphia and Baltimore, local political associations, and the steam fire engines.
In the Senate Chamber there was the usual assemblage of dignitaries, with crowds of ladies in the galleries. Vice-President Wheeler was sworn in and delivered a brief address, after which he administered the oath to the new Senators. The customary procession was formed, and moved to the platform erected over the eastern entrance to the rotunda. Governor Hayes was greeted with loud cheers from the assembled multitude, and when silence had been restored he read his inaugural in a clear voice. When he had concluded the oath of office was formally administered to him by Chief Justice Waite, and the new President returned to the White House, amid cheers of the multitude and salutes of artillery.
At the White House Mrs. Grant had provided a handsome collation, which was enjoyed by the members of the retiring Administration and a few personal friends of the incoming official. President Hayes was warmly congratulated on having received, through the agency of the Electoral Commission, a title to office that no one would dare to dispute openly. Reckless friends of Mr. Tilden, who had hoped to plunge the country into the turmoil and uncertainty of another election, found that their chief had tamely accepted the situation, and they quietly submitted.
The selection of a Cabinet was not fully determined upon until after President Hayes had arrived in Washington. Before he came General Burnside and other Republicans who had served in the Union army urged the appointment of General Joseph E. Johnston as Secretary of War, but after much discussion the intention was reluctantly abandoned. When President Hayes had been inaugurated the names of several Southerners were presented to him, including ex-Senator Alcorn, Governor John C. Born, and General Walthall, a gallant soldier and an able lawyer. President Hayes finally decided to give the position of Postmaster-General to "Dave" Key.
Judge Key had just before served in the Senate for a year, by appointment of the Governor of Tennessee, as the successor of Andrew Johnson, and his known popularity in that body rendered it certain that his nomination would be confirmed. At the close of the war the Judge had found himself in North Carolina very poorly off for clothes, surrounded by his wife and six children, also poor in raiment, without a dollar of money that would buy a rasher of bacon or a pint of cornmeal. He had a few dollars of Confederate money, but that was not worth the paper it was printed upon. Nearly everybody about him was as poor as himself, and the suffering through the section in which he found himself was very great. He owned nothing in the world but a half-starved mule that had been his war-horse for many months. This was before the days of the Commune, and he didn't know that mule meat was good; besides, he did not want to kill his war-horse that had carried him through so many deadly breaches. Before Judge Key and his family had reached that point when prayers take the place of hunger, however, relief came. An old resident of North Carolina heard of Key's necessities, and helped him out. He gave him seed to sow, a shanty to live in, and some land to till, also a small supply of bacon and cornmeal.
The Judge then went to work. He beat his sword into a plowshare and his fiery charger into a plow-horse. He worked with his little family and lived scantily the whole summer long. There was no fancy farming about it. When the corn was sold the Judge had eighty dollars in despised Yankee greenbacks. He then applied to President Andrew Johnson, who was announcing that "treason is a crime and must be punished," for leave to return to Tennessee, and he awaited a reply with a good deal of apprehension. It came in due course of mail, a very kind, brotherly letter, inclosing a pardon. Judge Key had not asked for this, and was quite overwhelmed. It was stated in the Senate in open session on the day of his confirmation that he had voted for Tilden, but he loyally sustained the Hayes Administration.
The other members of the Cabinet were well-known Republicans. William M. Evarts, who had so successfully piloted Mr. Hayes through the Electoral Commission, was very properly made Secretary of State. Tall, without the slightest tendency toward rotundity, and with an intellectual head set firmly on his shoulders, Mr. Evarts displayed great energy of character, unswerving integrity, and devotion to his clients. Great in positive intellect, he rendered it available, as an able general manoeuvres for position and arranges strategic movements, and was ready to meet his adversaries in a rhetorical struggle with volleys of arguments framed in sentences of prodigious length.
John Sherman, the Secretary of the Treasury, was a financial tower of strength, whose honesty, patriotism, and ability had endeared him to the people, while Carl Schurz, the Secretary of the Interior, was a man of great tact, invariable good temper, and superior education, whose personal appearance was very like that of Mephistopheles, except that Schurz wore glasses.
"Uncle Dick Thompson," although he knew nothing about the navy committed to his charge, was a silver-tongued Indiana stump speaker. The gallant General Devens, of Massachusetts, was to have been Secretary of War, and ex-Representative G. W. McCrary was to have been Attorney-General. But this was not satisfactory to the agents of the New Idria Company, as Mr. McCrary had on one occasion expressed a favorable opinion on the claim of William McGarrahan to the quicksilver mine of which the New Idria had obtained possession. So a pressure was brought to bear upon the President, the result of which was the transposition of Devens and McCrary. The soldier was made Attorney-General, and the country lawyer, ignorant of military matters, was made Secretary of War.
The Cabinet met on Tuesdays and Fridays. The members dropped in one by one, but they were all on hand by "high twelve," each bringing his portfolio containing matters to be submitted. President Hayes sat at the head of the table and Secretary Schurz at the foot; on the right, next to the President, was the Secretary of State, next to him the Secretary of War, and beyond him the Postmaster-General. On the left, next to the President, was the Secretary of the Treasury, the next to him the Secretary of the Navy, and next to the Secretary of the Interior, on that side, the Attorney-General. After the Cabinet met it was ten or fifteen minutes before the members got to work. That ten minutes was taken up in greetings and off-hand talk, in which the spirit of fun and humor cropped out a good deal. When out of official harness, the members of the Cabinet were all men with a sunny, fun-loving side. Judge Key was, perhaps, the jolliest, though the Attorney-General pushed him hard for that distinction. Secretary Thompson was a proverbial lover of a pleasant joke, while Secretary Schurz was hardly equalled in telling one. Secretary McCrary was a good story-teller. Secretary Sherman did not indulge in humor often, but when he did it was, on account of its unexpected character, the more enjoyable. Secretary Evarts was a quiet humorist, and his fund of dry humor and wit was inexhaustible.
The Cabinet jokes always found their way into public circulation and provoked many hearty laughs. It was intimated that Attorney- General Devens delighted in joking the "Ancient Mariner" of the Navy Department. One day Secretary Thompson presented to the Cabinet a list of midshipmen who had passed their examinations. The Secretary called attention to them, and said he would like to have their nominations for promotion to ensigns sent to the Senate as soon as possible, "as they are worthy young men who have thoroughly earned their spurs." "Mr. Thompson," interrupted Mr. Devens, "how long since have they been wearing spurs in the navy?" After ten minutes of so of boy's play before school, the President would call the meeting to order. The Secretary of State would present his budget, and when disposed of he would be followed by the other members of the Cabinet in their order of precedence. The meetings generally occupied about two hours, and the business was conducted in a conversational way.
It was unfortunate for Mr. Hayes that he felt obliged to appoint as his private secretary Mr. Rodgers, of Minnesota. It was understood at Washington that he had been unsuccessful in several business operations, and he certainly was a failure as private secretary. Instead of smoothing down the variety of little grievances that arose between the President and the politicians, he invariably made matters worse. The consequence was that the President was often seen in an unfavorable light by Congressmen, correspondents, and others whose good opinions he merited.
[Facsimile] Sincerely R.B.Hayes RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES was born at Delaware, Ohio, October 4th, 1822; studied law, and commenced practice at Cincinnati; served in the Union Army receiving promotion from the rank of Major to that of Brigadier-General, 1862-1865; was a Representative in Congress from Ohio from December 4th, 1865, to December, 1867, when he resigned, having been elected Governor of Ohio, serving 1868-1872, and again 1876-1877; was elected President of the United States on the Republican ticket in 1876, and was inaugurated March 5th, 1877.
XXXI. A NEW ERA IN SOCIETY
Rutherford B. Hayes had not entered upon his fifty-fifth year when he was inaugurated as President. He was a well-built man, of stalwart frame, with an open countenance ruddy with health, kind blue eyes, a full, sandy beard in which there were a few silver threads, a well-shaped mouth, and a smile on his lips. He had served gallantly in the army and creditably in Congress, without having contracted any bad habits or made any personal enemies. His manners were courteous; he bore himself with dignity, yet was affable to all; quick in speech, but open as the day. Politicians did not always obtain the places which they imperiously demanded for themselves or for their henchmen, and he refused to acknowledge that some who had busied themselves about the Southern electoral votes had claims on him which he was to repay by appointments to office. Impassive, non-committal, and always able to clothe his thoughts in an impenetrable garment of well-chosen words, applicants for place rarely obtained positive assurances that their prayers would be granted, but they hoped for the best, thinking that
"The King is kind, and, well we know, the King Knowest what time to promise, when to pay."
Mrs. Hayes exercised a greater influence over public affairs than any lady had since Dolly Madison presided over the White House. Tall, robust, and with a dignified figure, the whole expression of her face, from the broad forehead, which showed below her hair, worn in the old-fashioned style, to the firm mouth and modest chin, bespoke the thoughtful, well-balanced, matronly woman. She had such a bright, animated face that nothing seemed lacking to complete the favorable impression she made upon every one who came under the influence of her radiant smile. That smile was the reflection of a sunny disposition and a nature at rest with itself. She and her husband looked like a couple who lay down at night to peaceful slumbers, undisturbed by nervous dreams of ambition, and awoke in the morning refreshed and well prepared for the duties of the new day, which never found them fretted or flurried.
Mrs. Hayes brought with her from her rural home what was known as "the Ohio idea" of total abstinence from intoxicating drinks, and she enforced it at the White House, somewhat to the annoyance of Mr. Evarts, who, as Secretary of State, refused to permit the Diplomatic Corps to be invited to their customary annual dinner unless wine could be on the table. This Mrs. Hayes refused to allow, and all of the state dinners served while she presided over the hospitalities of the White House were ostensibly strictly temperance banquets, although the steward managed to gratify those fond of something stronger than lemonade. True, no wine glasses obtruded themselves, no popping of champagne corks was heard, no odor of liquor tainted the air fragrant with the perfume of innocent, beautiful flowers. The table groaned with delicacies; there were many devices of the confectioner which called forth admiration. Many wondered why oranges seemed to be altogether preferred, and the waiters were kept busy replenishing salvers upon which the tropical fruit lay. Glances telegraphed to one another that the missing link was found, and that, concealed within the oranges, was delicious frozen punch, a large ingredient of which was strong old Santa Croix rum. Thenceforth (without the knowledge of Mrs. Hayes, of course) Roman punch was served about the middle of the state dinners, care being taken to give the glasses containing the strongest mixture to those who were longing for some potent beverage. This phase of the dinner was named by those who enjoyed it "the Life-Saving Station."
While Mrs. Grant had always denounced the White House as not suitable for a President's residence, Mrs. Hayes was charmed with it. She once took an old friend through it, showed him the rooms, and exclaimed: "No matter what they build, they will never build any more rooms like these!" She had the lumber rooms ransacked, and old china and furniture brought out and renovated, and, when it was possible, ascertained its history. Every evening after dinner she had an informal reception, friends dropping in and leaving at their will, and enjoying her pleasant conversation. Often her rich voice would be heard leading the song of praise, while the deep, clear bass notes of Vice-President Wheeler rounded up the melody. She almost always had one or two young ladies as her guests, and she carried out the official programme of receptions to the letter.
While the President was earnestly endeavoring to restore peace at the South and to reform political abuses at the North, Mrs. Hayes was none the less active in inaugurating a new social policy. One of the evils attendant upon the "gilded era" of the war and the flush times that followed was the universal desire of every one in Washington to be in "society." The maiden from New Hampshire, who counted currency in the Treasury Department for nine hundred dollars a year; the young student from Wisconsin, who received twelve hundred dollars per annum for his services as a copyist in the General Land Office; the janitor of the Circumlocution Bureau, and the energetic correspondent of the Cranberry Centre Gazette, each and all thought that they should dine at the foreign legations, sup with the members of the Cabinet, and mingle in the mazes of the "German" with the families of the Senators. The discrepancy in income or education made no difference in their minds, and to admit either would be to acknowledge a social inferiority that would have been unsupportable. But while some of them, by their persistency, wriggled into "society," the stern reality remained that their compensations did not increase, because their owners sillily diminished them in what they called, maintaining their social position. "Vanity Fair" no longer existed, and the shoddy magnates no longer furnished champagne and terrapin suppers for fashionable crowds, regardless as to who composed those crowds; the strugglers for social position retired into modest quietude, and no longer aspired to be ranked among those in "society."
The people one met at the White House and in society, after the inauguration of President Hayes, were an improvement on those who had figured there since the war. One seldom saw those shoddy and veneer men and women who had neither tradition nor mental culture from which to draw the manner and habit of politeness. They lacked the sturdy self-respect of the New England mechanic, the independent dignity of the Western farmers, or the business-like ease of the New York merchants, but they evidently felt that their investments should command them respect, and they severely looked down upon "them literary fellers," and others with small bank accounts. In the place of these upstarts there were cultivated gentlemen and ladies, who could converse sensibly upon the topics of the day, and if there were neither punch-bowls nor champagne glasses on the supper-table, there were fewer aching heads the next day.
Mrs. Hayes, while blessed with worldly abundance, showed no desire to initiate the extravagances or the follies of European aristocracy. The example she set was soon followed, and her pleasant expression and manners, retaining the ready responsiveness of youth, while adding the wide sympathies of experience, won for her the respect of even those devotees of fashion who at first laughed about her plainly arranged hair and her high-neck black silk dresses. Lofty structures of paupers' hair, elaborately frizzled, were seldom seen on sensible women's heads, nor were the party dresses cut so shamefully low in the neck as to generously display robust maturity or scraggy leanness. It cannot be denied that fear of women and not love of man makes the fair sex submit to the tyranny of the fashions, and Mrs. Hayes having emancipated herself, the emancipation soon became general. While, however, "the first lady of the land" discarded the vulgar extravagances which had become common at Washington, she by no means held herself superior to the obligation of dress, and of the pleasant little artificial graces belonging to high civilization. Some of her evening dresses were elegant, the colors harmonizing, and the style picturesque and becoming. If she had the good taste not to disfigure her classically-shaped head, or to load herself with flashy jewelry, so much the better.
Prominent among the festivities at the White House during the Hayes Administration was the silver-wedding of the President and his wife, which was the first celebration of the kind that had ever occurred there. The vestibule, the halls, and the state apartments were elaborately trimmed with bunting and running vines. In the East Room, at the doors, and in the corners and alcoves tropical plants were clustered in profusion. The mantles were banked with bright-colored cut flowers, smilax was entwined in the huge glass chandeliers, and elsewhere throughout the room were stands of potted plants. Over the main entrance was the National coat-of-arms, and just opposite two immense flags, hanging from ceiling to floor, completely covered the large window. The Green, the Red, and the Blue Parlors were similarly decorated, the flowers used being chiefly azalias, hyacinths, and roses.
The members of the Cabinet and their families were the only official personages invited to this celebration, and with them were a few old friends from Ohio connected with the President's past life and pursuits. A delegation of the regiment which he commanded, the Twenty-third Ohio Volunteer Infantry, brought a beautiful silver offering. Among the President's schoolmates was Mr. Deshla, of Columbus, who said: "I knew him when we called him 'Rud,' when he was called 'Mr. Hayes,' then 'Colonel Hayes,' and 'General Hayes,' then 'Governor Hayes,' and now that he is President we are equally good friends." The guests promenaded through the parlors, and engaged in conversation, the Marine Band playing at intervals.
Precisely at nine o'clock the band struck Mendelssohn's Wedding March, and President Hayes, with his wife on his arm, came down- stairs, followed by members of the family and the special guests, two by two. The procession passed through the inner vestibule into the East Room, where the President and Mrs. Hayes stationed themselves, with their backs to the flag-draped central window, and there remained until the invited guests had paid their congratulations. Mrs. Mitchell, the daughter of the President's sister, Mrs. Platt, stood next Mrs. Hayes and clasped her hand, as she did when a little child, during the marriage ceremony twenty- five years back.
Mrs. Hayes wore a white silk dress, with draperies of white brocade, each headed with two rows of tasseled fringe, and with a full plaiting at the sides and bottom of the front breadth; the heart- shaped neck was filled in with tulle, and the half-long sleeves had a deep ruching of lace. Her hair, in plain braids, was knotted at the back and fastened with a silver comb, while long white kid gloves and white slippers completed the bridal array. On the day previous, which was the actual anniversary, Mrs. Hayes had worn her wedding dress, making no alterations save in letting out the seams. It was a flowered satin, made when ten or twelve breadths of silk were put in a skirt, and there was no semblance of a train appended thereto.
The Rev. Dr. McCabe, who had married Mr. Hayes and Miss Webb twenty- five years before, was present, with Mrs. Herron, who was at the wedding, and who was a guest at the White House. She had an infant daughter, six weeks old, with her, which was christened on the day previous Lucy Hayes. After the happy couple had been congratulated, the President and Mrs. Hayes led the way into the state dining- room, which had been elaborately decked for the occasion with cut flowers and plants. The table was adorned with pyramids of confectionery, fancy French dishes and ices in molds, the bill of fare including every delicacy in the way of eatables, but no beverage except coffee. At midnight, when the guns announced the birth of a new year, congratulations and good wishes were exchanged, and then the company dispersed.
The gossips had much to say about the petition of the venerable ex- Senator Christiancy for a divorce from a young Washington woman, who was a clerk in the Treasury Department when he married her. The irascible, jealous old man magnified trifling circumstances into startling facts, and deliberately attempted to brand his young wife with infamy. She may have been foolish, she may have said or done what was not wise, but those who knew her well asserted that she had given no cause for the terrible accusations brought against her by the man who persuaded her to become his wife, and who proved the truth of the proverb, that "There is no fool like an old fool." His resignation of his seat in the Senate to accept a diplomatic appointment, that Mr. Zach. Chandler might return to it, was said to have been anything but creditable to him, although profitable.
Washington society was also kept in hot water by the young secretaries and attaches of foreign legations, who prided themselves on their success in breaking hearts. There were two classes of these foreign lady-killers. Those of the Castilian type had closely cropped, coal-black hair, smooth faces, with the exception of a moustache, and flashing eyes that betrayed an intriguing disposition. The Saxons (including the British, the Germans, and the Russians) were tall, slender fellows, with their hair parted in the middle, soft eyes, and downy side-whiskers. Both sets were exquisitely polite, courteous in their deportment, and very deferential to those with whom they conversed. They stigmatized a residence in Washington after their sojourn at the various capitals of Europe as unendurable; they intimated that the women of America were "incomplete" and "fastidious," but their criticisms were so courteous that no one could muster heart to contradict them. Every year or two, though, some poor girl was captivated by the glitter of their small talk, and got more or less scorched before she could be extricated.
[Facsimile] W. M. Evarts WILLIAM MAXWELL EVARTS was born at Boston, February 6th, 1818; was graduated at Yale College in 1837; studied in the Harvard Law School, and was admitted to the bar in New York in 1841; was Attorney- General of the United States, July 15th, 1868 - March 3d, 1869; was counsel for President Johnson on his trial upon his impeachment in 1868; was counsel for the United States before the Alabama Claims Tribunal at Geneva, Switzerland, in 1872; was counsel for President Hayes in behalf of the Republican party before the Electoral Commission; was Secretary of State of the United States, March 12th, 1877 - March 3d, 1881; and was a United States Senator from March 4th, 1885.