The Speaker shouted and rapped for order without effect. The Sergeant-at-Arms stalked to the scene of the battle, mace in hand, but his "American eagle" had no more effect than the Speaker's gavel. Owen Lovejoy and Lamar, of Mississippi, were pawing each other at one point, each probably trying to persuade the other to be still. Mr. Mott, the gray-haired Quaker Representative from Ohio, was seen going here and there in the crowd. Reuben Davis, of Mississippi, got a severe but accidental blow from Mr. Grow, and various gentlemen sustained slight bruises and scratches. A Virginia Representative, who thought Montgomery, of Pennsylvania was about to "pitch in," laid his hand upon his arm, to restrain him, and was peremptorily ordered to desist or be knocked down. Mr. Covode, of Pennsylvania, caught up a heavy stone-ware spittoon, with which to "brain" whoever might seem to deserve it, but fortunately did not get far enough into the excited crowd to find an appropriate subject for his vengeance; and all over the hall everybody was excited for the time.
Fortunately, it did not last long, and no weapons were openly displayed. When order was restored several gentlemen were found to present an excessively tumbled and disordered appearance, but there remained little else to recall the excitement. Gentlemen of opposite parties crossed over to each other to explain their pacific dispositions, and that they got into a fight when their only purpose was to prevent a fight. Mutual explanations and a hearty laugh at the ludicrous points of the drama were followed by quiet and a return to business. It was finally agreed, about half-past six o'clock on Sunday morning, that the Democrats would permit a vote to be taken on Monday without further debate, delay, or dilatory motion.
When Mr. Orr's mallet rapped the House to order at noon on Monday, only six of the two hundred and thirty-four Representatives were absent, and the galleries were packed like boxes of Smyrna figs. Rev. Dr. Sampson made a conciliatory prayer, the journal was read, two enrolled bills were presented, and then the Speaker, in an unusually earnest tone, stated the question. Tellers had been ordered, and he appointed Messrs. Buffington, of Massachusetts, and Craige, of North Carolina. "Is the demand for the previous question seconded?"
The imposing form of Buffington was soon seen making his way down to the area before the Speaker's table, where Craige met him. The two shook hands, and there was then a quick obedience to the Speaker's request that gentlemen in favor of the motion would pass between the tellers. Father Giddings, crowned with silvery locks, led the Republican host down to be counted. Burlingame followed, and among others who filed along were Henry Winter Davis, General Spinner, John Sherman, General Bingham, Frank Blair, the trio of Washburnes, Gooch, Schuyler Colfax, John Covode, Governor Fenton, Senator Cragin, and burly Humphrey Marshall. When all had passed between the tellers Buffington wheeled about and reported to the Speaker, who announced the result rather hesitatingly: "One hundred and ten in the affirmative. Those opposed will now pass between the tellers."
Then the Southern Democrats, with their Northern allies, came trooping down, headed by the attenuated Stephens. Dan Sickles and John Cochrane, who were afterward generals in the Union armies, were then allied with Zollicoffer, Keitt, and others, who fell in the Confederate ranks, and there were so many of them that the result appeared doubtful. At last it was Mr. Craige's turn to report, and then all was silent as the grave.
The Speaker's usually loud, clear voice hesitated as he at last announced: "One hundred and four in the negative. The ayes have it, and the demand for the previous question is seconded. Shall the main question be now put?" The main question was next put, and the vote by ayes and nays on a reference of the Kansas question to the Committee on Territories, was ayes, 113; nays, 114. Then came the vote on the reference to a select committee of fifteen, and Speaker Orr had to announce the result, ayes, 114; nays 113. The North was at last victorious.
[Facsimile] Howell Cobb HOWELL COBB was born at Cherry Hill, Ga., September 7th, 1815; graduated at Franklin College, 1834; was Representative from Georgia, 1843-1851 and 1855-1860; was chosen Speaker, 1849; was Governor of Georgia, 1851; was President of the Confederate Congress, 1861; died in New York city, October 9th, 1868.
Bluff Ben Wade, a Senator from Ohio, was the champion of the North in the upper house during the prolonged debates on the Kansas- Nebraska Bill. Dueling had long been regarded as a lost art in the Northern States, but Mr. Wade determined that he would accept a challenge should one be sent him, or defend himself should he be attacked. But no one either assaulted or challenged him, although he gave his tongue free license.
One day Senator Badger spoke plaintively of slavery from a Southern point of view. In his childhood, he said, he was nursed by an old negro woman, and he grew to manhood under her care. He loved his "old black mammy," and she loved him. But if the opponents of the Kansas-Nebraska bill were triumphant, and he wished to go to either of those Territories, he could not take his "old black mammy" with him. Turning to Mr. Wade, he exclaimed: "Surely, you will not prevent me from taking my old black mammy with me?" "It is not," remarked the Senator from Ohio, dryly, "that he cannot take his old black mammy with him that troubles the mind of the Senator, but that if we make the Territories free, he cannot sell the old black mammy when he gets her there."
The future leader of the Great Rebellion, Senator Jefferson Davis, had then assumed the leadership of the Southern Senators and their Northern allies. His best friends were forced to admit that his bearing, even toward them, had become haughty, and his manners imperious. His thin, spare figure, his almost sorrowful cast of countenance, composed, however, in an invariable expression of dignity, gave the idea of a body worn by the action of the mind, an intellect supporting in its prison of flesh the pains of constitutional disease, and triumphing over physical confinement and affliction. His carriage was erect—there was a soldierly affectation, of which, indeed, the hero of Buena Vista gave evidence through his life, having the singular conceit that his genius was military and fitter for arms than for the council. He had a precise manner, and an austerity that was at first forbidding; but his voice was always clear and firm. Although not a scholar in the pedantic sense of the term, and making no pretensions to the doubtful reputation of the sciolist, his reading was classical and varied, his fund of illustration large, and his resources of imagery plentiful and always apposite.
Senator Robert W. Johnson—"Bob Johnson," every one called him— had made many friends while a member of the House, and was one of the most popular Senators. He was a man of generous feeling, honorable impulses, and a cheerful humor, which had endeared him to the homely backwoodsmen of his State. He was a fine speaker, pouring forth fact and argument with an earnestness that riveted attention, and lighting up the dull path of logic with the glow of his captivating fancy, while he spiced his remarks with the idiosyncrasies of frontier oratory, familiar and quaint illustrations, and blunt truth. At heart he loved the Union, but he could not stand up against the public sentiment of his State.
Henry Bowen Anthony was the first Republican Senator who had not been identified with the Abolitionists. Before he had been a week in the Senate, he was graciously informed that the Southern Senators recognized him as a gentleman, and proposed to invite him to their houses. "I can enter no door," sturdily replied the man of Quaker ancestry, "which is closed against any Northern Senator." Mr. Anthony was at that time a very handsome man, with jet black hair, blue eyes, and a singularly sweet expression of countenance. His editorial labors on the ProvidenceJournalhad given him a rare insight into men and politics, which qualified him for Senatorial life. He was soon a favorite in Washington society, wit and general information embellishing his brilliant conversation, while his social virtues gave to his life a daily beauty.
Ostensibly to negotiate a postal treaty, but really to see what could be done about an international copyright between Great Britain and the United States, came Anthony Trollope, Esq. He was a short, stout old gentleman, with a round, rosy face and snow-white hair, who loved to talk, and who talked well. His mother, Mrs. Frances Trollope, had written a cruelly sarcastic book on the manners and customs of Americans in 1830, and he was somewhat dogmatic in his criticisms of what he saw and heard. He shone especially at gentlemen's evening parties, at which he narrated anecdotes about Macaulay, Dickens, and Thackeray, and of his own exploits in "'unting," which he regarded as the noblest of all pastimes.
Mike Walsh was not only a demagogue, but an incorrigible joker. He used frequently to visit Washington after the expiration of his Congressional term, and was in the city after the close of the summer session of the Thirty-fifth Congress. Judge Douglas was also there, busily engaged in advancing his Presidential prospects. One evening, as Walsh was sitting in front of the Kirkwood House, he remarked that the weather looked threatening, but that he hoped it would prove good on account of the serenade that was to be given to Judge Douglas that night. The thing took at once, and he visited all the hotels, and in casual conversations broached the serenade, and the fact that the Marine Band had been engaged for the occasion. When ten o'clock P. M. came there were not less than six or seven hundred people in front of Judge Douglas's new residence; and as the streets had been newly opened and were still unpaved, the mud was ankle deep. There were also some thirty or forty hacks and a number of private carriages; and as the Judge and his beautiful and accomplished wife had heard of the intended ovation, they had prepared for the emergency by taking up the parlor carpets and setting out a collation for the sovereigns. But, alas! no Marine Band appeared; and as eleven o'clock came and no music, the crowd began slowly to thin out, until at last it got whispered around that Mike Walsh had something to do with the getting up of the serenade, when, amid curses and loud guffaws, there was a general stampede of the crowd.
In the midst of the stormy debates at the Capitol, there was an entertainment where men of both sections fraternized. It was a "wake" at the house of Mr. John Coyle, the cashier of theNational Intelligencer, whose Milesian blood had prompted him to pay Hibernian honors to the memory of one who had often been his guest. The funereal banquet had been postponed, however, in true Irish style, when it had been ascertained that the deceased was not dead, and in due time the guests were again invited, to honor him whom they had mourned—Albert Pike, of Arkansas. There he was, with stalwart form, noble features, waving hair, and a patriarchal beard —at once the Kit North and the Körner of America.
After a neat welcome by the host, uprose the erudite dignitary of the State Department, and he read, in deep, full tones, an obituary sketch of the supposed deceased, which he had prepared upon the receipt of the sad news. Pike's remarks, in reply, were touchingly beautiful, especially when he expressed his delight at having read kind notices of himself from those whom he had feared were his enemies, and his hopes that all enmity between him and his fellow- men might remain buried in that tomb to which he had been consigned. Jack Savage then sang a song (to the tune of "Benny Havens, O!"), describing a forced visit of "the fine Arkansas gentleman" to the Stygian shore, where he craved permission of Pluto to return to earth for one night at Coyle's:
"'Are you not dead?' the King then said.'Well, what of that? said he,'If I am dead, I've not been waked, and buried dacently.''And why,' the monarch cried,'Desire again to share life's toils?''For the sake of one good frolic more,'Even at Johnny Coyle's.'One spree at Johnny Coyle's; one spree at Johnny Coyle's;And who would not be glad to join a spree at Johnny Coyle's?"
Pluto then enumerated the good cheer and good company, and "Horace and Anacreon in vain would have him stay." But the gentleman from Arkansas demonstrated that they were all surpassed at Johnny Coyle's. The recital of the genial qualities of various gentlemen named enlisted Proserpine, who urged Pluto to let him go, that he might return, bringing his friends with him.
"And so the Queen at last prevailed, as women always do,And thus it comes that once again this gentleman's with you;He's under promise to return, but that he means to brake,And many another spree to have besides the present wake.One spree at Johnny Coyle's, etc."
This song was followed by a story, and that story by a song, and it was nearly daylight in the morning before the guests separated.
The Sons of Malta, a secret order which sprang into existence during Mr. Buchanan's Administration, was a remarkable institution. The original object of the organization was the capture of Cuba, and many prominent military men of the South were the leading spirits in the movement; but the filibustering was soon abandoned, and a newspaper man, who had been initiated, conceived the idea of making "some fun for the boys." The whole business of initiation, etc., was transformed into a series of the most stupendous practical jokes and outrageously comical proceedings ever dreamed of. The Order spread rapidly all over the Union. At Washington the lodge fitted up Marini's Hall in luxurious style, with carpets, cushioned seats, and an expensive paraphernalia. Many Senators and Representatives who had been initiated at their respective homes were regular attendants, and there was no lack of candidates, until a sedate citizen, enraged by the disclosure of his domestic infidelity, denounced the whole affair as a gigantic "sell."
While the Order was on the high tide of prosperity Mr. Buchanan was asked if he would receive a delegation of the Sons of Malta, representing twenty different States. Mr. Buchanan was a zealous Freemason—having gone up into the Royal Arch degree—and thinking that the institution resembled Freemasonry, he named an hour for the visit. The members of the delegation were promptly on hand, and after they had taken their position along one side of the East Room, Mr. Buchanan entered. The spokesman addressed him in a short speech, in which he eulogized the Order as composed of Union-loving citizens, associated for charitable purposes.
Mr. Buchanan listened attentively, and said in reply: "Gentlemen of the Sons of Malta, I feel grateful for the honor you have done me in making this visit. I do not know much about the Order, but I have no doubt of its charitable objects and its patriotism. In your praiseworthy object of charity I would say, God speed you in so noble an enterprise. We are told that Faith, Hope, and Charity are the links that bind us together in social Union. Faith and Hope may pass away, but Charity endures forever. I do not feel that there is any danger of the dissolution of the Union by the oppression of one portion of our country upon another; for should that period unhappily arrive, the people, who made it, will preserve it. Again, allow me cordially to thank you for this visit, and I would be most happy to take each one of you by the hand as representatives of the Sons of Malta from all parts of the Union." So solemn was the scene that several portly delegates were evidently convulsed with emotion (or secret laughter), and the Union was regarded as safe. Owners of ships, stocks, States, and the Order took courage.
[Facsimile] Geo. Bancroft GEORGE BANCROFT was born at Worcester, Mass., October 3d, 1800; graduated at Harvard College, 1817; was Secretary of the Navy under President Polk, 1843-1846; was Minister to Great Britain, 1846- 1849; to Prussia, 1867-1871; to Germany, 1871-1874.
[Frontispiece missing]
Illustrating the Wit, Humor, Genius, Eccentricities, Jealousies, Ambitions and Intrigues of the Brilliant Statesmen, Ladies, Officers, Diplomats, Lobbyists and other noted Celebrities of the World that gather at the Centre of the Nation; describing imposing Inauguration Ceremonies, Gala Day Festivities, Army Reviews, &c., &c., &c.
The Veteran Journalist, Clerk of the Senate Printing Records, Editor of the Congressional Directory, and Author of various Works.
Illustrated.
VOL. II.HUBBARD BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, PHILADELPHIA, PA.Boston, Kansas City; W. A. Houghton, New York; A. W. Mills, Tecumseh,Mich.; A. W. Stolp, Chicago, Ill.; A. L. Bancroft & Co., SanFrancisco, Cal.; E. Holdoway & Co., St. Louis, Mo.; A. P. Foster& Co., Dallas, Texas.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886, by
BEN: PERLEY POORE, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
NOTICE TO BOOKSELLERS. This book is sold exclusively by subscription, all agents being strictly enjoined by contract from selling in any other way. Any evasion of this plan will be a trespass upon the copyright rights of the author. HUBBARD BROS.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS [omitted]
While President Buchanan was anxiously awaiting information from Central America, he received from Mr. Dallas, the Minister at London, notes of a conversation between himself and the Earl of Malmesbury, in which the English Minister said: "Lord Napier has communicated to the President the treaty negotiated by Sir William Gore Ouseley with the Minister from Nicaragua." It was believed that no objection had been expressed to its provisions. One of its objects was to terminate the Mosquito Protectorate. Now, this was virtually the relinquishment on the part of England of her construction of the Clayton-Bulwer treaty, and, of course, was very desirable news to Mr. Buchanan, yet Lord Napier had withheld it. He either was disgusted at this settlement of the long-talked-of difficulty without his aid, or his devotion to a fair Southern widow had made him stupidly inattentive to what was going on. A hint to the English Government was thereupon given by Mr. Buchanan that his Lordship had better be transferred to some other post, and he was transferred accordingly.
Mr. Seward had endeavored to introduce Lord Napier into Republican society instead of that which Southerners had made so agreeable, and when he was recalled was mainly instrumental in getting up a subscription ball in his honor. It was given at Willard's Hotel, in the long dining-room, which had been decorated for the occasion with flags of all nations, mirrors, and chandeliers. At one end of the room, beneath full-length portraits of General Washington and Queen Victoria, was a raised dais, on which Lord and Lady Napier received the company. He wore a blue dress-coat with gilt diplomatic buttons, white waistcoat, and blue trousers, and looked the "canny" Scotchman and Napier that he was. Lady Napier wore a white silk ball-dress, with three flounces of white tulle, puffed and trimmed with black Brussels lace, a corsage, and a head-dress of scarlet velvet with pearls and white ostrich feathers. After the presentations the ball was opened with a quadrille, in which Lord Napier danced with Madame Limburgh, a daughter of General Cass, Mr. Ledyard and Mrs. Seward, Jr., being their vis-a-vis. In the same quadrille was Senator Seward and the beautiful Mrs. Conrad, of Georgia, having as their vis-a-vis Mr. Danby Seymour, M. P., and the niece of Senator Dixon, of Connecticut.
Supper was served at eleven o'clock. Mr. Speaker Orr escorted Lady Napier to the table, followed by Lord Napier escorting the Countess de Sartiges. It was a bountiful repast, with a profusion of champagne. Dancing was kept up until a late hour. A few days afterward Lord Napier embarked on an English war-steamer for his home.
Elegant entertainments were given during Mr. Buchanan's Administration by the members of his Cabinet, the receptions at the house of Postmaster-General Brown, graced by his daughter-in-law, Miss Narcissa Sanders, surpassing all others in elegance. Mrs. Gwin's fancy ball was far above any similar entertainment ever given at Washington. Charles Francis Adams, then a Representative from Massachusetts, entertained very hospitably; Mr. Seward gave numerous dinner-parties, and his parlors were open every Friday evening to all who chose to visit him; the Blairs kept open house for the new Republican party; Mr. John Cochrane gave a great dinner-party to the correspondents of the leading newspapers; Mrs. Fanny Kemble Butler had fashionable audiences to hear her readings, and was much made of in society, but she terrified the waiters at her hotel by her imperious manners. On all sides gayety abounded.
A large party of Democrats, after enjoying a dinner on the anniversary of the battle of New Orleans, went, at past eleven o'clock, to the White House to honor the President. They evidently disturbed him from his sleep, for he appeared in a dressing-gown, and as if he had just arisen from his bed. Mr. Buchanan was an exceedingly amiable and courteous politician, and showed it on this occasion by getting up at that unseemly hour to address these gentlemen, who were full of supper, wine, and patriotism. He, however, naively remarked to them, in concluding his remarks, "that in bidding them good-night he hoped they would retire to rest, and that to-morrow all of them would be better prepared for the discharge of their respective duties." Evidently Mr. Buchanan, while appreciating the motive and feelings of these gentlemen, manifested a little characteristic waggishness about their going to rest and getting up refreshed for their duties.
The murder, one bright Sunday morning in February, of Philip Barton Key, the District Attorney of the District of Columbia, by Mr. Daniel E. Sickles, a member of the House of Representatives from New York, created a great sensation. Mr. Sickles, although a young man, had been for some years prominently connected with New York politics. He had taken from her boarding-school and married the handsome young daughter of Madame Bagioli, who had, with her husband, acquired some celebrity in New York as Italian music teachers. Soon after the marriage Mr. Sickles had received the appointment of Secretary of Legation at London (Mr. Appleton having been unable to accompany Mr. Buchanan), and Mrs. Sickles thus made herdebutas the presiding lady of the bachelor Minister's establishment. In 1857 Mr. Sickles entered Congress, and rented the "Woodbury House," on Lafayette Square, where he lived in elegant style. His coaches, dinners, and parties were irreproachable, and Mrs. Sickles was noted for her magnificent jewelry and beautiful toilettes. Mr. Buchanan was a frequent visitor at their house, and was to have been godfather at the christening of Mr. Sickles' infant daughter, with Mrs. Slidell as godmother, but an attack of whooping-cough postponed the ceremony.
Prominent among gentlemen "in society" at that time was District Attorney Key. His father, in years past, had been a leading member of the Maryland Bar, practicing in Georgetown, and the family had always been highly respected. It was, however, as the author of the "Star Spangled Banner" that the elder Mr. Key acquired a national fame. One of his daughters, Mrs. Ellen Key Blunt, inherited her father's poetical genius, and had, since her widowhood, become prominent as a reader in public. Another daughter married Mr. George Pendleton, then a Representative from Ohio. Daniel, a son, was killed in a duel by a Mr. May; and Philip Barton, having become somewhat popular as a politician and a lawyer, received from Franklin Pierce the appointment of District Attorney. About that time he was appointed Captain of the "Montgomery Guards" also, and looked gallantly in his green and gold uniform. He married Miss Swann, of Baltimore, who died a few years afterward, leaving young children, and from that time Mr. Key's health had been very feeble. The previous winter (Mr. Buchanan having guaranteed him against rotation) he went to Cuba, but was not at all benefitted. Tall, slender, with rather a sad yet handsome face, he was just the man to win a woman's heart. He was somewhat foppish, too, in his attire, riding on horseback in white leather tights and high boots.
About an hour before Mr. Key was shot, he said to a young lady, whom he joined on her way home from church: "I am despondent about my health, and very desperate. Indeed, I have half a mind to go out on the prairies and try buffalo hunting. The excursion would either cure me or kill me, and, really, I don't care much which." Soon afterward, he saw, from the windows of his club-house, a signal displayed at the window of the residence of Mr. Sickles, across the square, which informed him that Mrs. Sickles desired to see him. He had hardly left the club-house, however, when he was met by Mr. Sickles, who, without warning, drew a pistol and shot him down like a dog. He was taken into the club-house, which he had so recently left, and died in a few moments. Mr. Sickles surrendered himself at once and was imprisoned in the jail, where he enjoyed the comforts of the keeper's room, and received the visits of many friends.
Mr. Sickles' trial came off in a few weeks before Judge Crawford, an old gentleman, whose intellect appeared to be somewhat clouded, but who endeavored to conceal a lack of capacity by a testy, querulous manner not especially imposing. The prosecution was conducted by District Attorney Ould, prominent afterward in the Confederate service as having the charge of the exchange of prisoners. He was educated for the Baptist ministry, and spoke with a somewhat clerical air. It was not to be supposed that he would show ingratitude to Mr. Buchanan for his appointment by over-exerting himself to secure the punishment of one who was known to be a favorite at the White House. Mr. Carlisle, retained soon after the murder by Mr. Key's friends to aid in the prosecution, was by many regarded as the Choate of the District Bar. Nervous in manner, yet cold at heart, crammed with the tricks of the law, and gifted with a flow of language wherewith to cloak them, he brought with equal felicity the favorable points of his client's case into prominence, and showed great acuteness in suppressing or glossing over whatever might be prejudicial to his interest. He was not, however, permitted to use much evidence touching the morality of the prisoner and the manner in which the victim had been lured to his tomb.
The defense was conducted by Edwin M. Stanton, previously known at Washington as a patent lawyer, and as having concluded successfully an important California land case for the Government. He had a head which Titian would have loved to paint, so massive were its proportions, and so sweeping were its long locks and beard. He stood like a sturdy sentinel on guard before his client, pleading the "higher law" in justification, and mercilessly attacking the counsel on the other side whenever they sought to introduce damaging evidence. He had as his aids-de-camp Messrs. Phillips, Chilton, and Radcliff, of the District Bar, each knowing well his Honor the Judge and the rest of the court.
Then there were David R. Graham and James T. Brady, prominent NewYork lawyers, who brought their eloquence to bear upon the jury,and were aided by T. F. Meagher, a glorious specimen of a rollickingIrish barrister.
Mr. Sickles sat in the dock, which was for all the world like the old-fashioned, square, high church pews. He looked exactly as one would imagine a successful New York city politician would look— apparently affable, yet bent on success, and unrelenting in his opposition to those who sought to impede his progress. When the verdict of acquittal came, there was a scene of tumultuous disorder in the court-room. Mr. Stanton called in a loud tone for cheers, and rounds of them were given again and again. President Buchanan was delighted with the acquittal of "Dan," as he familiarly called him, and his friends gave him a round of supper-parties.
Anson Burlingame, who was prominent in political and social circles at that eventful epoch, had transplanted the Western style of oratory to Massachusetts, where he had married the daughter of a leading Whig, and entered political life through the "Know-Nothing" door. He did not have much to say on the floor of the House, but he was an indefatigable organizer, and rendered the Republican party great service as, what is called in the English House of Commons, a "whipper-in." He prided himself on being recognized as a man who would chivalrously defend himself if attacked, but he showed no desire for fighting when hostilities became inevitable. He then went abroad in a diplomatic capacity.
[Facsimile]John Adams.JOHN ADAMS was born at Braintree, now Quincy, Mass., October 19th,1735; removed to Boston, 1768; was Delegate to first CongressionalCongress, September, 1774; assisted in the Treaty of Peace, January,1783; was United States Minister to England, 1785-1788; was Vice-President with Washington, 1789-1797; was President of the UnitedStates, 1797-1801; died July 4th, 1826.
The Japanese Embassy arrived in Washington on the 14th of May, 1860, in the steamer Philadelphia, which brought them up the Potomac from the United States frigate Roanoke, on which they had come from Japan. They were received at the Navy Yard with high honors, and escorted by the district militia to their quarters at Willard's Hotel.
The entire party numbered seventy-one. The three Ambassadors were rather tall and thin in form, with long and sharp faces. They had jet-black hair, so far as any was left by the barber. In dressing the hair the men expended as much care as women, and took as much pride and pleasure in its neat and fashionable adjustment. It was shaved off to the very skin, except around the temples and low down in the back of the neck, from which it was brought up on all sides to the top of the head and fastened by a string. It was then carried forward, well stiffened with pomatum, in a queue about four inches long, and of the size of one's finger, and pointed over the front part of the head, which was left completely denuded of all hair. They dressed in silk robes, and wore two swords at their sides, according to universal usage with the higher classes of their land. When they went in state to see the President they had little hats tied on the tops of their heads, and some of them had water-proof hats along, but they generally went bare-headed, carrying fans to keep the sun's rays away from their eyes. When not using these fans they stuck them down back of their necks into their robes. They used the folds of cotton cloth swathed around them in place of pockets. President Buchanan entertained the eight highest dignitaries of the Embassy at a dinner-party, at which ladies were present, and they attended evening parties given by Mrs. Slidell and by Madame Von Limburg, arriving at eight and leaving at nine. They paid one visit to the Capitol, where they went in on the floor of the Senate by virtue of their diplomatic position, and after a short stay crossed the rotunda to the House, where they took seats in the gallery set apart for the Diplomatic Corps. A special committee, with John Sherman as Chairman, waited upon the three Ambassadors and invited them to take seats on the floor. On the way they stopped to pay their respects to Mr. Speaker, in his gorgeous apartment, where they took a glass of champagne with him. They then went on the floor and took seats at the right of the Speaker's platform, where the members crowded around them. Some children attracted their attention, and Master Dawes was taken on the knee of the Japanese chief Ambassador while he was a guest of the House.
The principal object of the mission of the Embassy was to get an English copy of the treaty between Japan and the United States, signed by the President. The original was burned in the great fire at Jeddo in 1858. The copy in Japanese was saved. This they brought with them, and a copy of it not signed, and a letter from the Tycoon to the President. The box containing these documents was looked upon by them as almost sacred. It was called the "treaty box," and was never allowed to be out of their sight. It was a box three feet long, twenty-six inches in depth, and eighteen inches wide, covered with red morocco leather, and neatly sewed around the edges. There were three japanned boxes placed together, and then covered. Around the box was a light framework, and when carried was borne on a pole which rested on the shoulders of two stalwart policemen, closely followed by a Japanese with two swords in his girdle.
Some of the caricatures sketched by the Japanese were excellent, and there was no mistaking Mr. Buchanan as they portrayed him. They would not, however, sell one of these productions, even when fabulous prices were offered, replying: "Mi sogo Miphon"—I will take it to Japan.
When President Buchanan learned that the Prince of Wales intended to visit Canada, he hastened to write to Queen Victoria, tendering to her son a cordial welcome should he extend his visit to the United States. The invitation was accepted, and the Prince, who traveled under the name of Lord Renfrew, with the gentlemen of his suite, became the guests of Mr. Buchanan at the White House. The heir-apparent, who was then rather stout and phlegmatic, appeared, like Sir Charles Coldstream, to be "used up," but he philosophically went the rounds of the public buildings and was the honored guest at a public reception and at a diplomatic dinner. He apparently enjoyed a visit, with Miss Lane, to a fashionable boarding-school for young ladies, where he rolled several games of nine-pins with the pupils, but he could not be induced to remain on the White House balcony at night in a drizzling rain watching fire-works that would not always ignite. Indeed, it was rumored that his Lordship had slipped away from his guardian and visited some of the haunts of metropolitan dissipation.
The British party was taken to Mount Vernon on the revenue cutter "Harriet Lane," accompanied by President Buchanan, Miss Lane, nearly all of the Diplomatic Corps, and the leading army, navy, and civil- service officials. President Buchanan escorted his guests to Washington's tomb, and the great-grandson of George III. planted a tree near the grave of the arch-rebel against that monarch's rule. That evening the Prince dined at the British Legation, where Lord Lyons had invited the Diplomatic Corps to meet him, and the next morning he left for Richmond. When President Buchanan learned that the expenses of the trip to Mount Vernon were to be paid from a contingent fund at the Treasury Department, he objected, and wished to pay the bills himself, but Secretary Cobb finally paid them.
Mr. Buchanan's courteous civility toward the Prince of Wales, and the demonstrations made toward him in the Northern States, evidently made a deep impression on Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort, who also doubtless felt chagrined by the inhospitable manner in which the young traveler was treated in Virginia. In the darkest hours of the Civil War which followed, when so many leading British statesmen espoused the cause of the Confederates, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert were always friends of the Union. Their restraining influence, at a period when there were many causes of alienation, undoubtedly prevented a recognition of the belligerent rights of the Confederate States, which would have been followed by an alliance with them as an established government. Commercially this would have been desirable for Great Britain, as it would have enabled her merchants to have obtained possession of the cotton crop, and to have paid for it with manufactured articles—British shipping enjoying the carrying trade.
President Buchanan was very industrious, and gave personal attention to his official duties. Rising early, he breakfasted, read the newspapers, and was in his office every week-day morning at eight o'clock. There Mr. J. Buchanan Henry, his private secretary, laid before him the letters received by that morning's mail, filed and briefed with the date, the writer's name, and a condensed statement of the contents. Letters of a purely personal nature the President answered himself, and he gave Mr. Henry instructions as to the reply to, or the reference of the others. An entry was made in a book of the brief on each letter, and the disposition of it if it was referred to a Department. This system enabled the President to ascertain what had been done with any letter addressed to him by reference to Mr. Henry's books.
President Buchanan remained in his office, receiving such visitors as called, until one o'clock, when he went to luncheon. Returning to his desk, he rarely left it before five o'clock, when, with few exceptions, he took a hour's walk. He did not use his carriage a dozen times a year, except when he resided, during the summer, at the Soldiers' Home, and drove in to the White House in the morning and back in the afternoon.
On his return from his daily "constitutional" walk, Mr. Buchanan dined, at six o'clock, with the members of his household. He kept up the established etiquette of not accepting dinner invitations, and rarely attended evening parties or receptions, on the ground that universal acceptance would have been impossible, and any discrimination would have given offense. Once a week some of the members of the Cabinet, accompanied by their wives, dined at the White House "en famille," and, as there was no ceremony these were regarded as pleasant entertainments.
A series of State dinners was given during each session of Congress, the table in the large dining-room accommodating forty guests. The first of these dinners, annually, was given to the Justices of the Supreme Court and the law officers, the next to the Diplomatic Corps, and then to the Senators and Representatives in turn, according to official seniority, except in a very few cases where individuals had by discourtesy rendered such an invitation improper. Miss Lane and Mr. Henry issued the invitations and assigned seats to those who accepted them in order of precedence, which was rather a delicate task. Mr. Henry had also, in the short interval between the arrival of the guests in the parlor and procession into the dining-room, to ascertain the name of each gentleman and tell him what lady he was to take in—probably introducing then to each other. It was, he used to say, a verymauvais quart d'heureto him, as he was pretty sure to find at the last moment, when the President was leading the procession to the table, that some male guest, perhaps not accustomed to such matters, had strayed away from his intended partner, leaving the lady standing alone and much embarrassed. He had then to give them a fresh start.
Mr. Henry, as private Secretary, was charged with the expenditure of the library fund, the payment of the steward, messengers, and also with the expenditures of the household, which were paid out of the President's private purse. These latter expenditures generally exceeded the President's salary in the winter months, because President Buchanan enjoyed entertaining and entertained liberally from inclination. In summer, the social entertaining being much less, and the President being at the Soldiers' Home, the expenses were much less. The President's annual salary, then twenty-five thousand dollars, did not defray the actual household expenses of the Executive Mansion. Other Presidents had saved a considerable part of their salaries, but Mr. Buchanan had to draw upon his private means, not only for his expenses, but for his generous charities. He also made it a rule, which other Presidents had neglected, not to accept presents of any value, even from his most intimate friends or political supporters, and it was a part of the duty of his private secretary, Mr. Henry, to return any gifts at once with the thanks of the President.
[Facsimile] James Buchanan JAMES BUCHANAN was born in Franklin County, Pa., April 22d, 1791; entered the Legislature of Pennsylvania when twenty-three years of age; was elected to Congress, 1820, where he served five terms; was Minister to St. Petersburg, 1831-1833; was United States Senator, 1833-1845; was Secretary of State under Polk, 1845-1849; was Minister to England, 1853-1856; was President of the United States, 1857- 1861; died June 1st, 1868.
The clouds which had long been hovering portentously in our skies now began to spread and to blacken all around the heavens. This was greatly intensified on all sides by the daring raid of John Brown, of Ossawattomie, Kansas. Locating on a farm near Harper's Ferry, Va., he organized a movement looking toward a general slave insurrection. Seizing the Armory of the United States Arsenal buildings, all of which were destroyed during the war, he inaugurated his scheme, and for a few hours had things his own way. But troops were rapidly concentrated; Brown's outside workers were captured or shot; the Arsenal building was fired into; one of his sons was killed, another mortally wounded, and when the doors were forced Brown was found kneeling between their bodies. His arrest, trial, and execution were speedily accomplished, but all the thunders of a coming storm henceforth rolled all around the heavens.
At the South, the leaders used the excitement created by this affair to consolidate public opinion in their section and to cast opprobrium on the Republicans at the North. They saw that their ascendancy in the national councils was hastening to a close, and that if they were to carry out their cherished plans for a dissolution of the Union, and for the establishment of a Southern Confederacy, they must strike the blow during the Administration of Mr. Buchanan. Meanwhile Washington ran riot with costly entertainments in society and secret suppers, at which the Abolitionists of the North and the Secessionists of the South, respectively, plotted and planned for the commencement of hostilities.
One of the neutral grounds, where men of both parties met in peace, was the superbly furnished gambling-house of Pendleton, on Pennsylvania Avenue, known to its frequenters as "The Hall of the Bleeding Heart," though he preferred the appellation, "The Palace of Fortune." Pendleton belonged to one of the first families of Virginia, and his wife, a most estimable lady, was the daughter of Robert Mills, the architect of the Treasury. His rooms were hung with meritorious pictures, and the art of wood-carving was carried to great perfection in the side-boards, secretaries, and tables, which served the various purposes of the establishment. The dining and supper tables were loaded with plate of pure metal. The cooking would not have shamed the genius of Soyer, and it was universally admitted that the wines were such as could have been selected only by a connoisseur. This incomparable provider had ten thousand dollars invested in his cellar and his closet.
The people who nightly assembled to see and to take part in the entertainments of the house consisted of candidates for the Presidency, Senators and Representatives, members of the Cabinet, editors and journalists, and the master workmen of the third house, the lobby. Pendleton's, in its palmiest days, might have been called the vestibule of the lobby. Its most distinguished professors might be found there. They lent money to their clients when the "animal scratched too roughly," that is to say, when the play ran against them, and they became "broke," as they sometimes did. Pendleton himself was an operator in the lobby. His professional position gave him great facilities. He assisted in the passage of many useful bills of a private nature, involving considerable sums of money. A broker in parliamentary notes is an inevitable retainer of broker votes.
In the outer parlors, as midnight approached, might have been seen leading members of Congress, quietly discussing the day's proceedings, the prospects of parties, and the character of public men. A few officers of the army added to the number and variety of the groups which occupied this apartment. Here all were drinking, smoking, and talking, generally in a bright and jocose vein. Servants were gliding about with cigars, toddies, cocktails, and "whisky-straights" on little silver trays. Among them were two "old Virginny" darkies, very obliging and popular, who picked up many quarters and halves, and not a few "white fish," representing one dollar each.
But the third room was the haunt of the tiger! The company around the faro table would be playing mostly with counters of red, circular pieces of ivory, called fish, or chips, each of which represented five dollars. A few who were nearly "broke" would be using the white ones of one-fifth the value. The players were silent as the grave, because some of them were "in great luck," and large piles of red chips were standing upon different cards to abide the event of the deal, but, alas! the close of the deal was unfavorable, and before the little silver box, from which the cards were drawn, yielded the last of the pack, the most of the red piles had been drawn to the bank side. But some of them had doubled, and the owners drew them down as capital for the chances of the next deal. If one had great good fortune and some prudence, while possessor of the red piles before named, he would leave the house with his few hundreds or thousands of dollars; but the chances were that between midnight and dawn the gamesters would all retire minus the money they had brought into the place, and all they had been able to borrow from friends.
There were, however, exceptions. The largest amount ever won from the proprietor at Pendleton's was twelve hundred dollars, for a stake of one hundred dollars. When Humphrey Marshall was appointed Minister to China by President Pierce, in 1852, he lost his "outfit" and six months' pay, and was forced to accept a loan from Pendleton to enable him to reach the scene of his diplomatic labors. When Pendleton died, Mr. Buchanan attended his funeral, and several leading Democratic Congressmen were among his pall-bearers. His effects, including the furniture of his gambling-house, were sold at auction, attracting crowds of the most fashionable people in Washington, and probably for the first time since the descent of Proserpine, the gates of Hades were passed by troops of the fair sex.
Vice-President Breckinridge turned his back on the Union with marked regret. One night, as a supper-party at Colonel Forney's, Mr. Keitt, of South Carolina, undertook to ridicule the Kentucky horse raisers. Breckinridge stood it for awhile, but Keitt persisted in returning to the blue-grass region for a location to his stories, and finally Breckinridge retorted. He described a recent visit to South Carolina, and his meeting there with several of the original Secessionists. One of them, who was a militia officer in Keitt's own district, had just returned from a muster arrayed in faded regimentals of blue jeans, with a dragoon's sword trailing at his side and a huge fore-and-aft chapeau surmounted with a long feather. He was full of enthusiasm for the cause and descanted with particular eloquence upon what he called the wrongs of the South. "'I tell you, sah,' said he," continued Breckinridge, "'we cannot stand it any longer; we intend to fight; we are preparing to fight; it is impossible, sah, that we should submit, sah, not for a single hour, sah.' I asked him, 'What are you suffering from?' and he replied: 'Why, sah, we are suffering under the oppression of the Federal Government. We have been suffering under it for twenty-five years and more, and we will stand it no longer.'" Breckinridge then turned toward Keitt, and continued, "I advise my young friend here from South Carolina to visit some of his constituents before undertaking to go to war with the North, and advise them to go through the Northern states to learn what an almighty big country they will have to whip before they get through." Breckinridge was sincere in this remark, yet not many months had elapsed before he was forced into secession by the agitators.
The re-opening of the slave-trade, by which negroes could be imported and sold for very low prices, was one of the allurements held out to the poor whites of the South. A cargo was actually brought in a yacht called the Wanderer, commanded by Captain Corrie, who obtained the requisite capital for the enterprise by obtaining the passage of a large claim for the military services of a South Carolina organization in the War of 1812. Marshal Rynders suspected the destination of the Wanderer when she was about to leave New York, but he was persuaded to let her go. A few months later she landed near Brunswick, in Georgia, three hundred and fifty negroes, who were speedily distributed over the Gulf States. One or two were seized by United States Marshals, but they were soon taken from them. The experiment was a success.
While the two House of Congress were convulsed by sectional strife there was no cessation in the presentation of jobs, some of which were disgraceful schemes for plundering the Treasury. The most active advocates of these swindles, and of some more meritorious legislation which they were paid to advocate, were the lady lobbyists. Some of them were the widows of officers of the army or navy, others the daughters of Congressmen, and others had drifted from home localities where they had found themselves the subjects of scandalous comments. The parlors of some of these dames were exquisitely furnished with works of art and bric-a-brac, donated by admirers. Every evening they received, and in the winter their blazing wood fires were surrounded by a distinguished circle. Some would treat favored guests to a game of euchre, and as midnight approached there was always an adjournment to the dining-room, where a choice supper was served. A cold duck, a venison pie, broiled oysters, or some other exquisitely cooked dish with salads and cheese, generally constituted the repast, with iced champagne or Burgundy at blood-heat. Who could blame the Congressman for leaving the bad cooking of his hotel or boarding-house, with an absence of all home comforts, to walk into the parlor web which the adroit spider lobbyist had cunningly woven for him.
Washington was enlivened during the recess of Congress by a visit from the "Chicago Zouaves," a volunteer organization which had been carefully trained by its young commander, Captain E. E. Ellsworth, in a novel drill based on the quick movements of the Moors. The staid old military organizations were magnetized by the rapid, theatrical manner in which the Zouaves executed the manual and several gymnastic company movements. Their uniform was loose scarlet trousers, gaiter boots, and buff-leather leggings, a blue jacket trimmed with orange-colored braid, and a red cap with orange trimmings; their scarlet blankets were rolled on the top of their knapsacks. They drilled as light infantry, and moved like electric clocks. The entire drill lasted nearly three hours, including stoppages for rest, a few moments each time, and, although performed under a scorching sun on the hot sand, and comprising a series of vigorous exercises, the men stood it well, and attended strictly to their business.
The step of the Zouaves was in itself a peculiarity and strongly suggestive of thorough pedestrian and gymnastic preparation. The diminutive stature of the men and their precision in accomplishing the allotted length of the step, gave to it something of a steadylopingmovement, but yet so firm and springy that the effect was most animated. Another feature in the general excellence of the Zouaves was noted in their method of handling their arms, which, instead of the inanimate and gingerly treatment so observable even among finely drilled companies when executing the manual, were grasped with a nervous energy of action and shifted with a spirit which was thrillingly suggestive of a will, as well as the power, to act. The visitors were quite boyish in appearance, and mostly of small stature, falling even below the ordinary size of short men in our cities.
Captain Ellsworth was in appearance the most youthful of his corps, but he had a finely marked countenance and a self-reliant manner. The corps visited Mount Vernon, and was received at the White House by President Buchanan and Miss Lane. After witnessing an exhibition of their performance, the President made a patriotic and prophetic little speech to Captain Ellsworth, concluding by the remark: "We wish you prosperity and happiness in peace—should war come, I know where you will be." Within a short year the gallant officer lay in a soldier's grave.