The personal appearance of General Taylor as he read his inaugural address from a platform erected in front of the eastern portico of the Capitol was not imposing. His figure was somewhat portly, and his legs were short; his thin, gray hair was unbrushed; his whiskers were of the military cut then prescribed; his features were weather- bronzed and care-furrowed; and he read almost inaudibly. It was evident, however, that he was a popular favorite, and when he had concluded the vociferous cheering of the assembled thousands was answered by the firing of cannon and the music of the bands. His praises were on all lips, and his soubriquets of "Rough and Ready" and "Old Zach." were sounded with all honor.
The inaugural message showed that General Taylor regarded the Union as in danger, and that he intended to use every possible exertion for its preservation. Mr. Calhoun had requested, through Mr. Clayton, that nothing should be said in the inaugural on this subject, which had prompted the addition of a paragraph, in which the incoming President declared that a dissolution of the Union would be the greatest of calamities, and went on to say: "Whatever dangers may threaten it, I shall stand by it, and maintain it in its integrity, to the full extent of the obligations imposed and the power conferred upon me by the Constitution."
In December, 1849, when Congress assembled, the President aroused the violent opposition of Southern members by recommending, in his message, that California be admitted as a free State, and that the remaining Territories be allowed to form Constitutions to suit themselves. So indignant were some of the Southerners that the dissolution of the Union was openly threatened. To allay this agitation Clay's compromise measures were proposed, but Taylor did not live to see the bill passed.
The horde of office-seekers which invaded Washington after the inauguration of President Taylor recalled the saying of John Randolph, when it was asserted that the patronage of the Federal Government was overrated: "I know," said the sarcastic Virginian, "that it may be overrated; I know that we cannot give to those who apply offices equal to their expectations; and I also know that with one bone I can call five hundred dogs." The Democratic motto, that "To the victors belong the spoils," was adopted by the Taylor Administration. Unexceptionable men were removed from office, that their places might be filled with officers of Rough and Ready clubs or partisan orators. Veterans like General Armstrong and even the gifted Hawthorne, were "rotated" without mercy from the offices which they held. In the Post-Office Department alone, where Mr. Fitz Henry Warren, as Assistant Postmaster-General, worked the political guillotine, there were three thousand four hundred and six removals during the first year of the Taylor Administration, besides many hundred clerks and employees in the post-offices of the larger cities.
In the dispensation of "patronage" there was a display of shameless nepotism. A brother-in-law of Senator Webster was made Navy Agent at New York. Sons of Senators Crittenden, Clay, and Davis received important appointments abroad, and the son-in-law of Senator Calhoun was retained in the diplomatic service. Two sons-in-law of Senator Benton were offered high places. A nephew of Senator Truman Smith was made one of the United States Judges in Minnesota, and a nephew of Secretary Clayton was made purser at the Washington Navy Yard. The assurance of the President that he had "no friends to reward" was apparently forgotten, and he was hedged in by a little circle of executive councilors, who ruled all things.
While the Administration was profligate in this abuse of patronage, the conduct of several of the Secretaries was such as to give the President great uneasiness as he became acquainted with what was going on. Old claims were revived, approved by the Secretaries, and paid. Prominent among them was the Galphin claim, the Chickasaw claim, the De la Francia claim, the Gardiner claim, and many others. From the Galphin claim Mr. Crawford, Secretary of War, received as his share one hundred and fifteen thousand dollars. The lawyers in Congress declared that the Secretary acted professionally, but others censured him severely. Judge Cartter, then a Representative from Ohio, was severe in his comments on the monstrous corruption of the allowance of interest, the payment of which he said that he disliked "both as an exaction of the part of the capitalists, and on account of its origin with the Jews, who killed the Saviour."
President Taylor, although a Southerner by birth and a slave-owner, took prompt steps to thwart the schemes of Mr. Calhoun and his fellow-conspirators. Military officers were ordered to California, Utah, and New Mexico, which had no governments but lynch law; and the people of the last-named province, which had been settled two hundred years before Texas asserted her independence, were assured that her domain would be guaranteed by the United States against the claim of the Lone Star State.
Socially, President Taylor enjoyed himself, and he used to take morning walks through the streets of Washington, wearing a high black silk hat perched on the back of his head, and a suit of black broadcloth, much too large for him, but made in obedience to his orders, that he might be comfortable. Mrs. Taylor used to sit patiently all day in her room, plying her knitting-needles, and occasionally, it was said, smoking her pipe. Mrs. Bliss was an excellent housekeeper, and the introduction of gas into the Executive Mansion, with new furniture and carpets, enabled her to give it a more creditable appearance. It was said that she did the honors of the establishment "with the artlessness of a rustic belle and the grace of a duchess."
General Taylor found it difficult to accustom himself to the etiquette and the restraint of his new position. One day when the bachelor ex-Secretary of State called with a number of fair Pennsylvania friends to present them to the President, General Taylor remarked: "Ah! Mr. Buchanan, you always pick out the prettiest ladies!" "Why, Mr. President," was the courtly reply, "I know that your taste and mine agree in this respect." "Yes," said General Taylor, "but I have been so long among Indians and Mexicans that I hardly know how to behave myself, surrounded by so many lovely women."
[Facsimile] ZTaylor ZACHARY TAYLOR was born in Orange County, Virginia, November 24th, 1784; never cast a vote or held a civil office until he was inaugurated as President, March 5th, 1849; died at the White House, after a few days' illness, July 9th, 1850.
The Thirty-first Congress, which met on the first Monday in the December following the inauguration of President Taylor, contained many able statesmen of national prominence. The organization of the House was a difficult task, nine "free-soil" or anti-slavery Whigs from the North and six "State-rights" or pro-slavery Whigs from the South, refusing to vote for that accomplished gentleman, Mr. Robert C. Winthrop, who was the Whig candidate for Speaker. On the first ballot, Howell Cobb, of Georgia, had one hundred and three votes, against ninety-six votes for Robert C. Winthrop, eight votes for David Wilmot, six votes for Meredith P. Gentry, two votes for Horace Mann, and a number of scattering votes. The tellers announced that these was no choice, and the balloting was continued day after day, amid great and increasing excitement. After the thirty-ninth ballot, Mr. Winthrop withdrew from the contest, expressing his belief that the peace and the safety of the Union demanded that an organization of some sort should be effected without delay.
The Southern Whigs who had opposed Mr. Winthrop were vehement and passionate in their denunciation of the North. "The time has come," said Mr. Toombs, his black, uncombed hair standing out from his massive head, as if charged with electricity, his eyes glowing like coals of fire, and his sentences rattling forth like volleys of musketry—"the time has come," said he, "when I shall not only utter my opinions, but make them the basis of my political action here. I do not, then, hesitate to avow before this House and the country, and in the presence of the living God, that if, by your legislation, you seek to drive us from the Territories of California and New Mexico, and to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, I am for disunion; and if my physical courage be equal to the maintenance of my convictions of right and duty, I will devote all I am and all I have on earth to its consummation."
Such inflammatory remarks provoked replies, and after a heated debate Mr. Duer, of New York, remarked that he "would never, under any circumstances, vote to put a man in the Speaker's chair who would, in any event, advocate or sanction a dissolution of the Union." This brought a dozen Southerners to their feet, with angry exclamations, and Mr. Bayly, of Virginia, who was near Mr. Duer, said "There are no disunionists." "There are!" exclaimed Mr. Duer. "Name one!" shouted Mr. Bayly. At that moment Mr. Meade, of Virginia, rose and passed directly before Mr. Duer, who pointed to him and shouted, "There's one!" "It is false!" replied Mr. Meade, angrily. "You lie, sir!" responded Mr. Duer, in tones which rang through the hall; and, drawing himself up, he stood unmoved, while his political friends and foes clustered angrily about him, every man of them talking and gesticulating most furiously.
Fortunately, Mr. Nathan Sergeant (known as a newspaper correspondent over the signature of Oliver Oldschool), who was the Sergeant-at- Arms of the House, was in his seat at the Speaker's right hand. Seizing the "mace," which represents the Roman fasces, or bundle of rods, bound by silver bands and surmounted by an eagle with outstretched wings, which is the symbol of the authority of the House, he hastened to Mr. Duer and stood at his side, as if to protect him. His official interposition was immediately respected by all concerned in the disorder, and even the most tumultuous began at once to subside, so that no forcible measures were needed to prevent further violence.
Quiet was restored, and the excited Representatives, one by one, obeyed the sharp raps of the Speaker's gavel, accompanied by the peremptory order, "Gentlemen will take their seats." Mr. Duer, who had recovered his usual composure, then addressed the Chair, and having been recognized, apologized to the House for having been provoked into the use of the unparliamentary expression, but justified himself by referring to a speech which Mr. Meade had just made and printed, which contained disunion sentiments. Mr. Meade promptly challenged Mr. Duer, who showed no indisposition to fight, but with some difficulty friends secured an amicable settlement of the quarrel.
Finally, after three weeks of angry recriminations, it was voted that a plurality should elect, and on the sixty-second ballot Mr. Howell Cobb, of Georgia, having received one hundred and two votes against one hundred votes for Mr. Winthrop, was declared the Speaker of the House. He did not have that sense of personal dignity and importance which belonged to Sir John Falstaff by reason of his knighthood, but he displayed the same rich exuberance of animal enjoyment, the same roguish twinkle of the eye, and the same indolence which characterized the fat Knight.
President Taylor's first and only message to Congress was transmitted on the Monday following the organization of the House, December 24th, and the printed copies first distributed contained the sentence, "We are at peace with all the nations of the world and the rest of mankind." A revised edition was soon printed, in which the corrected sentence read, "We are at peace with all the nations of the world, and seek to maintain our cherished relations of amity with them." The blunder caused much diversion among the Democrats, and greatly annoyed Colonel Bliss, who, as the President's private secretary, had superintended the publication of the message. The message contained no allusion to the slavery question, but the President had declared himself in favor of the untrammeled admission of California into the Union, while, on the other hand, he did not approve the "higher law" doctrine which Mr. Seward was advocating as a nucleus for a new political party in the North.
Meanwhile, Henry Clay had reappeared at Washington as a Senator from Kentucky, and occupied his old quarters at the National Hotel, a large stockholder in which, Mr. Calvert, of Maryland, was one of Clay's many friends. Although in his seventy-third year, Mr. Clay was apparently hale and hearty, but showed his age. His head, bald on the top, was fringed with long, iron-gray hair, his cheeks were somewhat sunken, his nose had a pinched look, but his wide mouth was, as in years past, wreathed in genial smiles. He always was dressed in black, and from a high black satin stock, which enveloped his long neck, emerged a huge white shirt collar, which reached to his ears. He mingled in society, generally kissed the prettiest girls wherever he went, and enjoyed a quiet game of cards in his own room, with a glass of toddy made from Bourbon County whisky.
At the commencement of the session Mr. Clay requested that he might be excused from service on any of the standing committees of the Senate, and his wish was granted. It was not long, however, before he evinced a desire to re-enter the arena of debate as a leader of the Whig party, but not as a follower of President Taylor. Presenting a series of resolutions which would consolidate the settlement of the eight different questions involving slavery, then before Congress, into what he expected would prove a lasting compromise, he moved their reference to a select committee of thirteen, with instructions to report them in one bill. The Committee was authorized, but not without opposition, and Mr. Webster's vote secured for Mr. Clay the chairmanship. A general compromise bill was speedily prepared, and the "battle of the giants" was recommenced, Clay, Webster, and Calhoun engaging for the last time in a gladitorial strife, which exhibited the off-hand genial eloquence of the Kentuckian, the ponderous strength of the Massachusetts Senator, and the concentrated energies of South Carolina's favorite son. Mr. Clay was the leader in the debate, which extended over seven months, and during that time he was ever on the alert, sometimes delivering a long argument, sometimes eloquently replying to other Senators, and sometimes suggesting points to some one who was to speak on his side. Indignant at the treatment which he had received from the Whig party he stood unsubdued, and so far from retreating from those who had deserted him, he intended to make the Taylor Administration recall its pledges, break its promises, and become national, or pro-slavery, Whigs.
Mr. Webster was equally grieved and saddened by the faithlessness of Massachusetts men who had in years past professed friendship for him, but of whose machinations against him he had obtained proof during the preceding autumn. He also ascertained that, to use the words of Mr. Choate, "the attention of the public mind began to be drawn a little more directly to the great question of human freedom and human slavery." If he responded to the beatings of the New England heart, and resisted the aggressions and usurpations of the slave power, he would have to follow the lead of the Abolitionists, for whom he had always expressed a profound contempt. Dejected and depressed, Mr. Webster would at that time have been glad to take the mission to England, and thus terminate his career of public service; but he was defeated by the claims of Mr. Abbott Lawrence, who, having been recently disappointed in not receiving the appointment of Secretary of the Treasury, refused to be comforted unless he could be the successor of George Bancroft at the Court of St. James.
Thaddeus Stevens and Joshua R. Giddings asserted, after the decease of Mr. Webster, that he prepared a speech, the manuscript of which they had read, which was a powerful exposition and vindication of Northern sentiment upon the compromise measures, especially the fugitive-slave bill. If this was true, he was doubtless induced to "change front" by pledges of Southern support for the Presidency; but he is reported by Theodore Parker as having said to a fellow Senator, on the morning of the 7th of March, "I have my doubts that the speech I am going to make will ruin me." He should have remembered that he himself said of the Emperor Napoleon, "His victories and his triumphs crumbled to atoms, and moldered to dry ashes in his grasp, because he violated the general sense of justice of mankind."
At this time Webster's far-seeing mind was doubtless troubled by the prospects of a bloody civil war, with the breaking up of the Union he loved so well. He stood by the old compromises rather than bring on a sectional conflict, and in his opinion there was no sacrifice too great to avert a fratricidal contest. "I speak to-day," said he, "for the preservation of the Union!" His words were in after years the key-notes of many appeals for the protection and the preservation of the United States.
Mr. Calhoun's health had gradually failed, and at last he was supported into the Senate Chamber wrapped in flannels, like the great Chatham, and requested that his friend, Senator Mason, might read some remarks which he had prepared. The request was, of course, granted, and while Mr. Mason read the defiant pronunciamento its author sat wrapped in his cloak, his eyes glowing with meteor- like brilliancy as he glanced at Senators upon whom he desired to have certain passages make an impression. When Mr. Mason had concluded, Mr. Calhoun was supported from the Senate and went back to his lodgings at Mr. Hill's boarding-house, afterward known as the Old Capitol, to die.
Mr. Jefferson Davis aspired to the leadership of the South after the death of Mr. Calhoun, and talked openly of disunion. "Let the sections," said he, in the Senate Chamber, "part, like the patriarchs of old, and let peace and good-will subsist among their descendants. Let no wound be inflicted which time cannot heal. Let the flag of our Union be folded up entire, the thirteen stripes recording the original size of our family, untorn by the unholy struggles of civil war, its constellation to remain undimmed, and speaking to those who come after us of the growth and prosperity of the family whilst it remained united. Unmutilated, let it lie among the archives of the Republic, until some future day, when wiser counsels shall prevail, when men shall have been sobered in the school of adversity, again to be unfurled over the continent-wide Republic."
Senator Hale, who, with Salmon P. Chase, was not named on any of the committees of the Senate, was a constant target for the attacks of the Southerners, but the keenest shafts of satire made no more impression upon him than musket-balls do upon the hide of a rhinoceros. One day when Senator Clemens had asserted that the Union was virtually dissolved, Mr. Hale said, "If this is not a matter too serious for pleasant illustration, let me give you one. Once in my life, in the capacity of Justice of the Peace—for I held that office before I was Senator—I was called on to officiate in uniting a couple in the bonds of matrimony. They came up, and I made short work of it. I asked the man if he would take the woman whom he held by the hand to be his wedded wife; and he replied, 'To be sure I will. I came here to do that very thing.' I then put the question to the lady whether she would have the man for her husband. And when she answered in the affirmative, I told them they were man and wife then. She looked up with apparent astonishment and inquired, 'Is that all?' 'Yes,' said I, 'that is all.' 'Well,' said she, 'it is not such a mighty affair as I expected it to be, after all!' If this Union is already dissolved, it has produced less commotion in the act than I expected."
[Facsimile] Robt. C. Winthrop ROBERT CHARLES WINTHROP was born at Boston, Massachusetts, May 12th, 1809; was a Representative in Congress from Massachusetts from December 5th, 1842, to July 30th, 1850, when, having been appointed a United States Senator from Massachusetts, he took his seat in the Senate, serving until February 7th, 1851; was Speaker of the House during the Thirtieth Congress, and a part of the Thirty- first Congress.
A prominent figure at Washington during the Taylor Administration was General Sam Houston, a large, imposing-looking man, who generally wore a waistcoat made from the skin of a panther, dressed with the hair on, and who generally occupied himself during the sessions of the Senate in whittling small sticks of soft pine wood, which the Sergeant-at-Arms provided for him. His life had been one of romantic adventure. After having served with distinction under General Jackson in the Creek War, he had become a lawyer, and then Governor of the State of Tennessee. Soon after his inauguration he had married an accomplished young lady, to whom he one day intimated, in jest, that she apparently cared more for a former lover than she did for him. "You are correct," said she, earnestly, "I love Mr. Nickerson's little finger better than I do your whole body." Words ensued, and the next day Houston resigned his Governorship, went into the Cherokee country, west of the Arkansas River, adopted the Indian costume, and became an Indian trader. He was the best customer supplied from his own whisky barrel, until one day, after a prolonged debauch, he heard from a Texas Indian that the Mexicans had taken up arms against their revolted province. A friend agreeing to accompany him, he cast off his Indian attire, again dressing like a white man, and never drank a drop of any intoxicating beverage afterward. Arriving in Texas at a critical moment, his gallantry was soon conspicuous, and in due time he was sent to Washington as United States Senator. His strong points, however, were more conspicuous on the field than in the Senate.
William H. Seward entered the Senate when General Taylor was inaugurated as President, and soon became the directing spirit of the Administration, although Colonel Bullit, who had been brought from Louisiana to edit theRepublic, President Taylor's recognized organ, spoke of him only with supercilious contempt. Senator Foote sought reputation by insulting him in public, and was himself taunted by Mr. Calhoun with the inconsistent fact of intimacy with him in private. The newly elected Senator from New York persisted in maintaining amicable relations with his revilers, and quietly controlled the immense patronage of his State, none of which was shared by the friends of Vice-President Fillmore. He was not at heart a reformer; he probably cared but little whether the negro was a slave or a freeman; but he sought his own political advancement by advocating in turn anti-Masonry and abolitionism, and by politically coquetting with Archbishop Hughes, of the Roman Catholic Church, and Henry Wilson, a leading Know-Nothing. Personally he was honest, but he was always surrounded by intriguers and tricksters, some of whose nests he would aid in feathering. The most unscrupulous lobbyists that have ever haunted the Capitol were well known as devoted adherents of William H. Seward, and he swayed them as a sovereign.
Mr. James Buchanan had not shed many tears over the defeat of his rival, General Cass, and when the Whigs came into power he retired from the Department of State to his rural home, called Wheatland, near Lancaster, Pa. He used to visit Washington frequently, and was always welcomed in society, where he made an imposing appearance, although he had the awkward habit of carrying his head slightly to one side, like a poll-parrot. He always attempted to be facetious, especially when conversing with young ladies, but when any political question was discussed in his presence, he was either silent, or expressed himself with great circumspection. From his first entry into the House of Representatives, in 1821, he had entertained Presidential aspirations, and had sought to cultivate friendships that would be of service to him in obtaining the object of his ambition, protesting all the while that he was indifferent on the subject. After his retreat to Wheatland he began to secure strength for the coming National Democratic Convention of 1851, industriously corresponding with politicians in different sections of the country, and he was especially attentive to Mr. Henry A. Wise, with whose aid he hoped to secure the votes of the delegates from Virginia in the next National Democratic Convention.
Mr. Wise, recalling the time when he was a power behind the throne of John Tyler, encouraged Mr. Buchanan to bid for Southern support, and intimated a readiness to "coach" him so as to make him a favorite in the slave States. His counsels were kindly taken and in return Mr. Buchanan wrote to the fiery "Lord of Accomac," in his most precise handwriting: "Acquire more character for prudence and moderation, and under the blessing of Heaven you may be almost anything in this country which you desire. There is no man living whose success in public and in private life would afford me more sincere pleasure than your own. You have every advantage. All you have to do is to go straight ahead, without unnecessarily treading upon other people's toes. I know you will think, if you don't say, 'What impudence it is for this childless old bachelor of sixty years of age to undertake to give me advice! Why don't he mind his own business?' General Jackson once told me that he knew a man in Tennessee who had got rich by minding his own business; but still I urged him, and at last with success, which he never regretted."
The free distribution of plants and seeds to Congressmen for their favored constituents has made it an equally easy matter for the Commissioner of Agriculture to obtain liberal appropriations for his Department and the publication of enormous editions of his Reports. Indeed, the Bureau of Agriculture has grown under these fostering influences to one of immense magnitude, and its beautiful building, erected in Lincoln's time, is one of the ornaments of the city.
The first of the Agricultural Reports was issued by Edmund Burke, while he was commissioner of Patents during the Polk Administration. On the incoming of the Taylor Administration Mr. Burke was succeeded by Thomas Ewbank, of New York City, and Congress made an appropriation of three thousand five hundred dollars for the collection of agricultural statistics. When Mr. Ewbank's report appeared the Southern Congressmen were (to quote the words used by Senator Jefferson Davis, in debate) amazed to find that it was preceded by what he termed "an introduction by Horace Greeley, a philosopher and philanthropist of the strong Abolition type." "The simple fact," he continued, "that Mr. Greeley was employed to write the introduction is sufficient to damn the work with me, and render it worthless in my estimation." This view was held by many other Southerners.
Notwithstanding this fierce denunciation, however, the public appreciated just such work as had been undertaken, and so rapid was the growth of interest in this direction that the Department of Agriculture was fully organized in 1862. It has continued to issue immense numbers of Reports, which are standing objects of jest and complaint, but the fact still remains that they contain splendid stores of valuable information.
Queen Victoria accredited as her Minister Plenipotentiary to President Tyler the Right Honorable Sir Henry Lytton Bulwer, an accomplished diplomat, slender, and apparently in ill health. He was afterward, for many years, the British Minister at Constantinople, where he defeated the machinations of Russia, and held in cunning hand the tangled thread of that delicate puzzle, the Eastern Question. His private secretary while he was at Washington was his nephew, Mr. Robert Bulwer (a son of the novelist), who has since won renown as Lord Lytton, Viceroy of India, and as the author —Owen Meredith.
The bitter political discussions at the Capitol during the first six months of 1850 prevented much social enjoyment. There were the customary receptions at the White House, and "hops" at the hotels, but few large parties were given. Tea-parties were numerous, at which a succession of colored waiters carried trays heaped with different varieties of home-made cakes and tarts, from which the beaux supplied the belles, and at the same time ministered to their own wants, balancing a well-loaded plate on one knee, while they held a cup and saucer, replete with fragrant decoctions from the Chinese plant "which cheers, but not inebriates."
The reigning belles were the queen-like widow Ashley, of Missouri, who afterward married Senator Crittenden, and her beautiful daughter, who became the wife of Mr. Cabell, of Florida. Mrs. Fremont and her sisters made the home of their father, Colonel Benton, very attractive; General Cass's daughter, who afterward married the Dutch Minister, had returned from Paris with many rare works of art, and the proscribed Free-soilers met with a hearty welcome at the house of Dr. Bailey, editor of theNew Era, where Miss Dodge (Gail Hamilton), passed her first winter in Washington.
On the evening of the 4th of July, 1850, a large reception was given by ex-Speaker Winthrop to his gentlemen friends, without distinction of party or locality. At the supper-table Mr. Winthrop had at his right hand Vice-President Fillmore, and at his left hand Mr. Speaker Cobb. Webster and Foote, Benton and Horace Mann, the members elect from California, with Clingman and Venable, who were trying to keep them out, were seen in genial companionship. Most of the Cabinet and the President's private secretary, Colonel Bliss, were there, side by side with those who proposed to impeach them. The only drawback to the general enjoyment of the occasion was the understanding that it was the farewell entertainment of Mr. Winthrop, who had given so many evidences of his unselfish patriotism and eminent ability, and whose large experience in public affairs should have entitled him to the continued confidence of the people of Massachusetts. President Taylor was absent, and Colonel Bliss apologized for his non-attendance, saying that he was somewhat indisposed.
The old hero had that day sat in the sun at the Washington Monument during a long spread-eagle address by Senator Foote, with a tedious supplementary harangue by George Washington Parke Custis. While thus exposed to the midsummer heat for nearly three hours, he had drank freely of ice-water, and on his return to the White House he had found a basket of cherries, of which he partook heartily, drinking at the same time several goblets of iced milk. After dinner he still further feasted on cherries and iced milk against the protestations of Dr. Witherspoon, who was his guest. When it was time to go to Mr. Winthrop's he felt ill, and soon afterward he was seized with a violent attack of cholera morbus. This was on Thursday, but he did not consider himself dangerously ill until Sunday, when he said to his physician, "In two days I shall be a dead man." Eminent physicians were called in, but they could not arrest the bilious fever which supervened. His mind was clear, and on Tuesday morning he said to one of the physicians at his bedside, "You have fought a good fight, but you cannot make a stand." Soon afterward he murmured, "I have endeavored to do my duty," and peacefully breathed his last. His sudden death was immediately announced by the tolling of the bell in the Department of State, and in a few moments the funereal knell was echoed from every church steeple in the district.
[Facsimile]William H. SewardWILLIAM H. SEWARD was born at Florida, New York, May 16th, 1801;was Governor of New York, 1838-1842; was United States Senator fromNew York from March 4th, 1849, until he entered the Cabinet ofPresident Lincoln as Secretary of State, March 5th, 1861; remainedSecretary of State under President Johnson until March 3d, 1869;traveled around the world in 1870-1871, and died at Auburn, NewYork, October 10th, 1872.
On the tenth of July, 1850, the day after the death of General Taylor, Mr. Fillmore appeared in the Representatives' Hall at the Capitol, where both houses of Congress had met in joint session, took the oath of office, and immediately left. The new President was then fifty years of age, of average height, florid features, white hair, shrewd, gray eyes, and dignified yet courteous manners. He had risen from the humble walks of life, by incessant toil, to the highest position in the Republic. Always animated by an indomitable spirit and by that industry and perseverance which are the sure guarantees of success, he was undoubtedly a man of ability, but his intellect seemed, like that of Lord Bacon, to lack to complement of heart. A blank in his nature, where loyalty to the public sentiment of the North should have been, made him a willing instrument to crush out the growing determination north of Mason and Dixon's line that freedom should be national, slavery sectional.
Mr. Fillmore had given satisfaction to the Senators by the impartial manner in which he had presided as Vice-President over their deliberations. They had, by a unanimous vote, approved of his ruling, which reversed the decision of Mr. Calhoun, twenty-three years before, that the Vice-President had no right to call a Senator to order for words spoken in debate, and they had ordered his explanatory remarks to be entered upon the journal. By Mr. Seward and Mr. Weed, however, he was treated with marked contempt, and under their direction the Taylor Administration had given him the cold shoulder. Even his requests that two of his personal friends should be appointed Collector of the Port and Postmaster at Buffalo had been formally refused, and the places had been given to partisans of Mr. Seward. The unexpected death of General Taylor was an element which even Mr. Seward had never taken into account, and the first consequence was undisguised confusion among the supporters of the Administration. The members of the Cabinet promptly tendered their resignations, and it was plainly visible that the sudden removal of the President had checkmated the plans so carefully made, and forced the chief player to feel the bitterness of political death. Mr. Fillmore was known to be amiable in private life, but it was evident that he would show little regard for those who had snubbed and slighted him in his less powerful position.
The remains of the deceased President lay in state for several days in the East Room at the White house, and were then interred with great pomp. Religious services were held at the White House, where the distinguished men of the nation were grouped around the coffin. At the funeral there was a large military escort of regulars and volunteers, commanded by General Scott, who was mounted on a spirited horse and wore a richly embroidered uniform, with a high chapeau crowned with yellow plumes. The ponderous funeral car was drawn by eight white horses. Behind the car was led "Old Whitey," the charger ridden by General Taylor in Mexico. He was a well-made horse, in good condition, and with head erect, as if inspired by the clang of martial music, he followed to the grave the remains of him whom he had so often borne to victory. When the artillery and infantry fired the parting salute at the cemetery, the old war- horse pricked up his ears and looked around for his rider.
Mr. Fillmore tendered the Secretary of State's portfolio to Mr. Webster, who promptly accepted it. He had been assured that if he would advocate the compromises he would create a wave of popular sentiment that would float him into the White House in 1856, against all opposition, and that no Democratic aspirant would stand in his way. Believing all this, Mr. Webster had committed himself in his 7th of March speech, and had found that many of his life-long friends and constituents refused to follow his lead. Faneuil Hall had been closed to him, and he was glad to escape from the Senate Chamber into the Department of State. Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, John Quincy Adams, and Martin Van Buren had found that Department a convenient stepping-stone to the Presidential chair, and why should not he?
Mr. Webster was a great favorite in the Department of State, for he made no removals, and his generous and considerate treatment of the clerks won their affection. His especial favorite was Mr. George J. Abbott, a native of New Hampshire, who had been graduated at Exeter and Cambridge, and had then come to Washington to take charge of a boys' school. He was an accomplished classical scholar, and he used to hunt up Latin quotations applicable to the questions of the day, which Mr. Webster would commit to memory and use with effect. His private secretary was Mr. Charles Lanman, a young gentleman of literary and artistic tastes, who was a devoted disciple of Isaak Walton. Mr. Webster and he would often leave the Department of State for a day of piscatorial enjoyment at the Great Falls of the Potomac, when the Secretary would throw off public cares and personal pecuniary troubles to cast his lines with boyish glee, and to exult loudly when he succeeded in hooking a fish. Another clerk in the Department who enjoyed Mr. Webster's esteem was Mr. Zantzinger, the son of a purser in the Navy, who possessed rare accomplishments. Whenever Mr. Webster visited his estates in New Hampshire or Massachusetts, he was accompanied by one of these gentlemen, who had the charge of his correspondence, and who, while enjoying his fullest confidence, contributed largely to his personal enjoyment.
Mr. Webster's Washington home was a two-story brick house on Louisiana Avenue, next to the Unitarian Church. His dining-room was in the basement story, and it was seldom that he had not friends at his hospitable table. Monica, the old colored woman, continued to be his favorite cook, and her soft-shell crabs, terrapin, fried oysters, and roasted canvas-back ducks have never been surpassed at Washington, while she could make a regal Cape Cod chowder, or roast a Rhode Island turkey, or prepare the old-fashioned New Hampshire "boiled dinner," which the "expounder of the Constitution" loved so well. Whenever he had to work at night, she used to make him a cup of tea in an old britannia metal teapot, which had been his mother's and he used to call this beverage his "Ethiopian nectar." The teapot was purchased of Monica after Mr. Webster's death by Henry A. Willard, Esq., of Washington, who presented it to the Continental Museum at Indian Hill Farm, the author's residence.
Under the influence of the new Administration, Congress passed the several compromise measures in Mr. Clay's bill as separate acts. The debate on each one was marked by acrimony and strong sectional excitement, and each one was signed by President Fillmore amid energetic protests from the Northern Abolitionists and the Southern Secessionists. The most important one, which provided for the rendition of fugitive slaves, he referred to Attorney-General Crittenden before signing it, and received his opinion that it was constitutional. When it was placed on the statute book, the Union members of the House of Representatives organized a serenade to President Fillmore and his Secretary of State, Daniel Webster. The President bowed his acknowledgments from a window of the Executive Mansion, but Mr. Webster came out on the broad doorstep of his home, with a friend on either side of him holding a candle, and, attired in a dressing gown, he commenced a brief speech by saying, "Now is the summer—no! Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this son of York." This ended the speech also.
The wife of President Fillmore was the daughter of the Rev. Lemuel Powers, a Baptist clergyman. She was tall, spare, and graceful, with auburn hair, light blue eyes, and a fair complexion. Before her marriage she had taught school, and she was remarkably well- informed, but somewhat reserved in her intercourse with strangers. She did not come to Washington until after her husband became President, and her delicate health prevented her mingling in society, though she presided with queenly grace at the official dinner- parties.
The President's father, "Squire Fillmore," as he was called, visited his son at the White House. He was a venerable-looking man, tall, and not much bowed by his eighty years, his full gray hair and intelligent face attracting much attention. When he was about to leave, a gentleman asked him why he would not remain a few days longer. "No, no!" said the old gentleman, "I will go. I don't like it here; it isn't a good place to live; it isn't a good place for Millard; I wish he was at home in Buffalo."
The corner-stone of one of the "extensions" of the Capitol was laid on the seventy-sixth anniversary of our national independence, July 4th, 1851, by the fraternity of Free Masons in "due and ample form." President Fillmore, the Cabinet, the Diplomatic Corps, several Governors of States, and other distinguished personages occupied seats on a temporary platform, which overlooked the place where the corner-stone was laid, Major B. B. French, Grand Master of the Masons of the District of Columbia, officiating. Mr. Webster was the orator of the day, and delivered an eloquent, thoughtful, and patriotic address, although he was evidently somewhat feeble, and was forced to take sips of strong brandy and water to sustain him as he proceeded. Among the vast audience were three gentlemen who had, fifty-eight years previously, seen General Washington aid his brother Free Masons in laying the corner-stone of the original Capitol.
Later in that year, the large hall which contained the library of Congress, occupying the entire western side of the centre of the Capitol, was destroyed by fire, with almost all of its valuable contents. The weather was intensely cold, and, had not the firemen and citizens (including President Fillmore) worked hard, the entire Capitol would have been destroyed. Congress soon afterward made liberal appropriations, not only for reconstructing the library of cast-iron, but for the purchase of books, so that the library soon rose, phoenix-like, from its ashes. But the purchases were made on the old plan, under the direction of the Congressional Joint Committee on the Library, the Chairman of which then, and for several previous and subsequent sessions, was Senator Pearce, of Maryland, a graduate of Princeton College. There was not in the Library of Congress a modern encyclopaedia, or a file of a New York daily newspaper, or of any newspaper except the venerable daily,National Intelligencer, whileDeBow's Reviewwas the only American magazine taken, although the LondonCourt Journalwas regularly received, and bound at the close of each successive year.
Jenny Lind created a great sensation at Washington, and at her first concert Mr. Webster, who had been dining out, rose majestically at the end of her first song and made an imposing bow, which was the signal for enthusiastic applause. Lola Montez danced in her peculiar style to an audience equally large, but containing no ladies. Charlotte Cushman appeared asMeg Merrilies, Parodi and Dempster sang in concerts, Burton and Brougham convulsed their hearers with laughter, Booth gave evidence of the undiminished glow of his fiery genius by his masterly delineation of the "wayward and techy"Gloster, and Forrest ranted inMetamora, to the delight of his admirers. Colonel John W. Forney told a good story about a visit which he paid with Forrest to Henry Clay soon after the passage of the compromise measure. The Colonal unguardedly complimented a speech made by Senator Soulé, which made Clay's eyes flash, and he proceeded to criticise him very severely, ending by saying: "He is nothing but an actor, sir—a mere actor!" Then, suddenly recollecting the presence of the tragedian, he dropped his tone, and turning toward Mr. Forrest, said, with a graceful gesture, "I mean, my dear sir, a mere French actor!" The visitors soon afterward took their leave, and as they descended the stairs, Forrest turned toward Forney and said, "Mr. Clay has proved by the skill with which he can change his manner, and the grace with which he can make an apology, that he is a better actor than Soulé."
[Facsimile] Millard Fillmore MILLARD FILLMORE was born at Summer Hill, New York, January 7th, 1800; was a Representative in Congress from New York, 1837-1843; was defeated as a Whig candidate for Governor of New York, 1844; was elected State Comptroller, 1847; was elected Vice-President on the Whig ticket headed by Z. Taylor in 1848, receiving one hundred and thirty-six electoral votes, against one hundred and twenty- seven electoral votes for W. O. Butler; served as President of the United States from July 9th, 1850 to March 3d, 1853; was defeated as the National American candidate for President in 1856; and died at Buffalo, New York, March 8th, 1874.
Mr. Clayton, when Secretary of State, had received a proposition from August Belmont, as the agent of the Rothschilds, to pay the Mexican indemnity in drafts, for which four per cent. premium would be allowed. Then Mr. Webster became Secretary of State, and he entered into an agreement with an association of bankers, composed of the Barings, Corcoran & Riggs, and Howland & Aspinwall, for the negotiation of the drafts by them at a premium of three and a-half per cent. The difference to the Government was about forty thousand dollars, but the rival sets of bankers had large interests at stake, based on their respective purchases of Mexican obligations at depreciated values, and a war of pamphlets and newspaper articles ensued. The dispute was carried into Congress, and during a debate on it in the House, Representative Cartter, of Ohio, afterward Chief Justice of the Courts in the District of Columbia, was very emphatic in his condemnation of all the bankers interested. "I want the House to understand," said he, with a slight impediment in his speech, "that I take no part with the house of Rothschild, or of Baring, or of Corcoran & Riggs. I look upon their scramble for money precisely as I would upon the contest of a set of blacklegs around a gaming-table over the last stake. They have all of them grown so large in gormandizing upon money that they have left the work of fleecing individuals, and taken to the enterprise of fleecing nations."
Mr. Charles Allen, of the Worcester district of Massachusetts, availed himself of the opportunity offered by this debate on the payment of the Mexican indemnity to make a long-threatened malignant attack on Daniel Webster. He asserted that he would not intrust Mr. Webster with the making of arrangements to pay the three millions of Mexican indemnity. He stated that it was notorious that when he was called to take the office of Secretary of State he entered into a negotiation by which twenty-five thousand dollars was raised for him in State Street, Boston, and twenty-five thousand dollars in Wall Street, New York. Mr. Allen trusted that the Democratic party had yet honor enough left to inquire into the matter, and that the Whigs even, would not palliate it, if satisfied of the fact.
Mr. George Ashmun, Representative from the Springfield district, retorted that Mr. Allen had eaten salt with Mr. Webster and received benefits from him, and that he was the only one who dared thus malignantly to assail him. Mr. Ashmun alluded to a letter from Washington, some time previously published in the BostonAtlas, stating that a member of the House had facts in his possession upon which to found a resolution charging a high officer with "corruption and treason," and he traced a connection between that letter and Mr. Allen's insinuations.
Mr. Henry W. Hilliard, of Alabama, followed Mr. Ashmun with a glowing eulogy of Mr. Webster, in which he declared that, although Massachusetts might repudiate him, the country would take him up, for he stood before the eyes of mankind in a far more glorious position than he could have occupied but for the stand which he had taken in resisting the legions which were bearing down against the rights of the South. This elicited a bitter rejoinder from Mr. Allen, who alluded to the fact that Mr. Hilliard was a clergyman, and said that he had found out how to serve two masters. Mr. Ashmun, asking Mr. Allen if he had not published confidential letters addressed to him by Mr. Charles Hudson, received as a reply, "No, sir! no, sir! You are a scoundrel if you say that I did!" The debate between Messrs. Ashmun and Allen finally became so bitter that Mr. Stephens, of Georgia, and other Representatives objected to its continuance, and refused to hear another word from either of them. The next day Mr. Lewis, of Philadelphia, improved an opportunity for eulogizing Mr. Webster, provoking a scathing reply from Mr. Joshua Giddings.
Immediately after this debate, Mr. Ashmun wrote to Mr. Hudson to inquire whether the statement was true or false, and received the following telegraphic dispatch:
"BOSTON, March 3d, 1851.
"HON. GEORGE ASHMUN: I wrote a confidential letter to Hon. Charles Allen just before the Philadelphia Convention in 1848. He read the letter in a public meeting at Worcester and published it in the WorcesterSpy. (Signed) CHARLES HUDSON."
Mr. Ashmun declared on the floor of the House, by the authority of Mr. Webster, that the statement of Mr. Allen was "false in all its length and breadth, and in all its details," but there was doubtless a foundation for the statement. The friends of Mr. Webster admitted that a voluntary contribution had been tendered him as a compensation for the sacrifices he had made in abandoning his profession to accept the office of Secretary of State, and they justified his acceptance of the money on the ground that after having devoted the labors of a long life to his profession, and attained in it a high rank, which brought large fees, he should not be asked to relinquish those professional emoluments without, in justice to his obligations to his family, accepting an equivalent. Without indorsing this State-Street view of the case, it is to be regretted that the charges were made, to trouble Mr. Webster's spirit and sour his heart.
Mr. Webster often sought consolation in his troubles from the grand old poetry of the Hebrew Bible, which awakened peaceful echoes in his own poetic soul. His chosen "crony" in his latter years, though much younger than himself, was Charles Marsh, a New Hampshire man. Well educated, polished by travel, and free from pecuniary hamper, Marsh was a most delightful companion, and his wit, keen as Saladin's cimeter, never wounded. Fletcher Webster was also a great favorite with his father, for he possessed what Charles Lever called "the lost art of conversation." Sometimes, when Mr. Webster's path had been crossed, and he was black as night, Marsh and Fletcher would, by humorous repartees and witticisms, drive the clouds away, and gradually force him into a conversation, which would soon become enlivened by the "inextinguishable laughter of the gods."
That Mr. Webster felt keenly the attacks upon him was undeniable, and atonement could not afterward be made by eulogizing him. It has been well said, that if charity is to be the veil to cover a multitude of sins in the dead as well as in the living, cant should not lift that veil to swear that those sins were virtues. Mr. Webster was sorely troubled by the attitude taken by many Massachusetts men at a time when he needed their aid to secure the Presidency, which he undoubtedly believed would be tendered him by the Southern Whigs, seconded by many Southern Democrats. He lost flesh, the color faded from his cheeks, the lids of his dark eyes were livid, and he was evidently debilitated and infirm. At times he would be apparently unconscious of those around him, then he would rally, and would display his wonderful conversational qualities. Yet it was evident to those who knew him best that he was "stumbling down," as Carlyle said of Mirabeau, "like a mighty heathen and Titan to his rest."
One pleasant afternoon in March, Mr. Brown, of Mississippi, delivered a long speech in the House upon the politics of that State, in which he defended the State Rights party and ridiculed the Union movement as un-necessary, no one then being in favor of either disunion or secession. This, one of his colleagues, Mr. Wilcox, denied. "Do you mean," said Mr. Brown, "to assert that what I have said is false?" "If you say," bravely responded Mr. Wilcox, "that there was no party in Mississippi at the recent election in favor of secession or disunion, you say what is false!" The last word was echoed by a ringing slap from Brown's open hand on the right cheek of Wilcox, who promptly returned the blow, and then the two men clinched each other in a fierce struggle. Many of the members, leaving their seats, crowded around the combatants, while Mr. Seymour, of Connecticut, who temporarily occupied the chair, pounded with his mallet, shouting at the top of his voice, "Order! order!" The Sergeant-at-Arms was loudly called for, but he was absent, and before he could be found the parties had been separated. The Speaker resumed the chair, and in a few moments the contestants, still flushed, apologized to the House—not to each other. A duel was regarded as inevitable, but mutual friends intervened, and the next day it was formally announced in the House that the difficulty "had been adjusted in a manner highly creditable to both parties, who again occupied the same position of friendship which had existed between them previous to the unpleasant affair of the day before." Thus easily blew over the terrific tempests of honorable members.
Mr. Leutze, a talented artist, petitioned Congress to commission him to paint for the Capitol copies of his works, "Washington Crossing the Delaware," and "Washington Rallying his Troops at Monmouth," but without success. Mr. Healy was equally unsuccessful with his proposition to paint two large historical paintings for the stairways of the extension of the Capitol, one representing the "Destruction of the Tea in Boston Harbor," and the other the "Battle of Bunker Hill;" but subsequently he received an order to paint the portraits of the Presidents which now grace the White House. Mr. Martin, a marine artist of recognized ability, also proposed in vain to paint two large pictures, one representing the famous action between the Constitution and the Guerriere, and the other the night combat between the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis. Indeed, there have been scores of meritorious works of art offered to and declined by Committees of Congress, which have expended large sums in the purchase of daubs disgraceful to the Capitol of the nation. The recognition refused these painters at Washington was freely accorded elsewhere, however. Leutze's "Columbus Before the Council at Salamanca" is justly deemed one of the gems of the Old World, and has given him an imperishable name. Among the really great works of our own country is Healy's painting, "Webster's Reply to Hayne," now in Faneuil Hall.
So with sculpture. Hiram Powers endeavored, without success, to obtain an order for his colossal statue of America, which was highly commended by competent judges, while Mr. Mills was liberally remunerated for his effigy of General Jackson balancing himself on a brass rocking-horse. Powers wrote: "I do not complain of anything, for I know how the world goes, as the saying is, and I try to take it calmly and patiently, holding out my net, like a fisherman, to catch salmon, shad, or pilchards, as they may come. If salmon, why, then, we can eat salmon; if shad, why, then, the shad are good; but if pilchards, why, then, we can eat them, and bless God that we have a dinner at all."
The honors secured for Colonel Fremont by his father-in-law, Mr. Benton, for his path-findings across the Rocky Mountains, inspired other young officers of the army, and some civilians, with a desire to follow his example. Returning to Washington, each one had wonderful tales of adventure to relate. Even the old travelers, who saw the phoenix expire in her odoriferous nest, whence the chick soon flew forth regenerated, or who found dead lions slain by the quills of some "fretful porcupine," or who knew that the stare of the basilisk was death—even those who saw unicorns graze and who heard mermaids sing—were veracious when compared with the explorers of railroad routes across the continent. Senator Jefferson Davis did much to encourage them by having their reports published in quarto form, with expensive illustrations, and Cornelius Wendell laid the foundation of his fortune by printing them as "Pub. Docs."
TheNational Era, edited by Dr. Gamaliel Bailey, was a source of great annoyance to the pro-slavery men, and one occasion they excited an attack on his house by a drunken mob. Dr. Bailey was a small, slender man, with a noble head, and a countenance on which the beautiful attributes of his character were written. Taking his life in his hands, he went to his door-way, attended by his wife, and bravely faced the infuriated crowd. He denied that he had any agency in a recent attempt to secure the escape of a party of slaves to the North, and then called the attention of his hearers to the fact that at a public meeting of the citizens of Washington, not very long before that night, resolutions had been passed denouncing the French Government for having fettered the press, yet they were proposing to do in his case what their fellow-citizens had condemned when done by others. His remarks produced an effect, but the leaders of the mob raised the cry, "Burn theEraoffice!" and a movement was made toward that building, when Dan Radcliffe, a well-known Washington lawyer with Southern sympathies, sprang upon Dr. Bailey's doorstep and made a eloquent appeal in behalf of a free press, concluding with a proposition that the assemblage go to the house of the Mayor of Washington and give him three cheers. This was done, Radcliffe's good nature prevailing, and the mob dispersed peacefully.
Dr. Bailey was, however, no novice in dealing with mobs. Ten years before he came to Washington he resided in Cincinnati, where, in conjunction with James G. Birney, he publishedThe Philanthropist, a red-hot anti-slavery sheet. During his first year in this enterprize his office was twice attacked by a mob, and in one of their raids the office was gutted and the press thrown into the river. These lively scenes induced a change of base and settled the good Doctor in the national metropolis.
The ablest newspaper correspondent at Washington during the Fillmore Administration was Mr. Erastus S. Brooks, one of the editors and proprietors of the New YorkExpress. He was then in the prime of life, rather under the average height, with a large, well-balanced head, bright black eyes, and a swarthy complexion. What he did not know about what was going on in political circles, before and behind the scenes, was not worth knowing. His industry was proverbial, and he was one of the first metropolitan correspondents to discard the didactic and pompous style which had been copied from the British essayists, and to write with a vigorous, graphic, and forcible pen. Washington correspondents in those days were neither eaves-droppers nor interviewers, but gentlemen, who had a recognized position in society, which they never abused.
[Facsimile] R. J. Walker ROBERT J. WALKER was born at Northumberland, Pennsylvania, July 19th, 1801; removed to Mississippi in 1826, and commenced the practice of law; was United States Senator from Mississippi, 1836- 1845; was Secretary of the Treasury under President Polk, 1845- 1849; was appointed, by President Buchanan, Governor of Kansas in 1857, but soon resigned, and died at Washington City, November 11th, 1869.
The forcible acquisition of territory was the means by which the pro-slavery leaders at the South hoped to increase their territory, and they defended this scheme in the halls of Congress, in their pulpits, and at their public gatherings. Going back into sacred and profane history, they would attempt to prove that Moses, Joshua, Saul, and David were "filibusters," and so were William the Conqueror, Charlemagne, Gustavus Adolphus, and Napoleon. Walker simply followed their example, except that they wore crowns on their heads, while he, a new man, only carried a sword in his hand. Was it right, they asked, when a brave American adventurer, invited by the despairing victims of tyranny in Cuba or of anarchy in Central America, threw himself boldly, with a handful of comrades, into their midst to sow the seeds of civilization and to reconstruct society—was it right for the citizens of the United States, themselves the degenerate sons of filibustering sires, to hurl at him as a reproach what was their ancestors' highest merit and glory?
General Walker, the "gray-eyed man of destiny," was the leading native filibuster, but foremost among the foreign adventurers—the Dugald Dalgettys of that epoch—who came here from unsuccessful revolutions abroad to seek employment for their swords, was General Heningen. He had served with Zumala-Carreguy, in Spain, with Schamyl, in the Caucasus, and with Kossuth, in Hungary, chronicling his exploits in works which won him the friendship of Wellington and other notables. Going to Central America, he fought gallantly, but unsuccessfully, at Grenada, and he then came to Washington, where he was soon known as an envoy of "Cuba Libre." He married a cultivated woman, and his tall, soldier-like figure was to be seen striding along on the sunny sidewalk of Pennsylvania Avenue every pleasant morning, until in later years he went South to "live or die in Dixie."
President Tyler having sent Mr. Dudley Mann as a confidential agent to Hungary to obtain reliable information concerning the true condition of affairs there, the Austrian Government instructed its diplomatic representative at Washington, the Chevalier Hulsemann, to protest against this interference in its internal affairs, as offensive to the laws of propriety. This protest was communicated to Mr. Webster after he became Secretary of State, and in due time the Chevalier received an answer which completely extinguished him. It carefully reviewed the case, and in conclusion told the protesting Chevalier in plain Anglo-Saxon that nothing would "deter either the Government or the people of the United States from exercising, at their own discretion, the rights belonging to them as an independent nation, and of forming and expressing their own opinion freely and at all times upon the great political events which might transpire among the civilized nations of the earth." The paternity of this memorable letter was afterward ascribed to Edward Everett. It was not, however, written either by Mr. Webster or Mr. Everett, but by Mr. William Hunter, then the Chief Clerk of the Department of State.
Meanwhile, Kossuth had been released from his imprisonment within the dominion of the Sublime Porte, by request of the Government of the United States, and taken to England in the war steamer Mississippi. In due time the great Behemoth of the Magyar race arrived at Washington, where he created a marked sensation. The distinguished revolutionist wore a military uniform, and the steel scabbard of his sword trailed on the ground as he walked. He was about five feet eight inches in height, with a slight and apparently not strongly built frame, and was a little round-shouldered. His face was rather oval; a pair of bluish-gray eyes gave an animated and intelligent look to his countenance. His forehead, high and broad, was deeply wrinkled, and time had just begun to grizzle a head of dark, straight hair, a heavy moustache, and whiskers which formed a beard beneath his chin. Whether from his recent captivity or from constitutional causes, there was an air of lassitude in his look to which the fatigues of his voyage not improbably contributed. Altogether, he gave one the idea of a visionary or theoretical enthusiast rather then of a great leader or soldier.
Kossuth was the guest of Congress at Brown's Hotel, but those Senators and Representatives who called to pay their respects found members of his retinue on guard before the door of his apartments, armed with muskets and bayonets, while his anteroom was crowded with the members of his staff. They had evidently been reared in camps, as they caroused all day and then tumbled into their beds booted and spurred, furnishing items of liquors, wines, cigars, and damaged furniture for the long and large hotel bill which Congress had to pay. Mr. Seward entertained the Hungarian party at an evening reception, and a number of Congressmen gave Kossuth a subscription dinner at the National Hotel, at which several of the known aspirants for the Presidency spoke. Mr. Webster was, as became the Secretary of State, carefully guarded in his remarks, and later in the evening, when the champagne had flowed freely, he indulged in what appeared to be his impromptu individual opinions, but he unluckily dropped at his seat a slip of paper on which his gushing sentences had been carefully written out. General Houston managed to leave the table in time to avoid being called upon to speak, and General Scott, who regarded Kossuth as a gigantic humbug, had escaped to Richmond. Kossuth was invited to dine at the White House, and on New Year's day he held a reception, but he failed in his attempt to secure Congressional recognition or material aid.
A number of the leading public men at Washington were so disgusted by the assumption and arrogance displayed by Kossuth, and by the toadyism manifested by many of those who humbled themselves before him, that they organized a banquet, at which Senator Crittenden was the principal speaker. "Beware," said the eloquent Kentuckian, in the words of Washington, "of the introduction or exercise of a foreign influence among you! We are Americans! The Father of our Country has taught us, and we have learned, to govern ourselves. If the rest of the world have not learned that lesson, how shall they teach us? We are the teachers, and yet they appear here with a new exposition of Washington's Farewell Address. For one, I do not want this new doctrine. I want to standsuper antiquas vias—upon the old road that Washington traveled, and that every President from Washington to Fillmore has traveled."
The main effect of Kossuth's visit to the United States was an extraordinary impetus given to "The Order of United Americans," from which was evolved that political phenomenon, the American, or Know-Nothing, party. The mysterious movements of this organization attracted the curiosity of the people, and members of the old political organizations eagerly desired to learn what was carefully concealed. Secretly-held lodges, with their paraphernalia, pass- words, and degrees, grips, and signs, tickled the popular fancy, and the new organization became fashionable. Men of all religions and political creeds fraternized beneath the "stars and stripes," and solemnly pledged themselves to the support of "our country, our whole country, and nothing but our country."
The leaders of this Know-Nothing movement, who in the delirium of the hour were intrusted with dictatorial authority, were in no way calculated to exercise a permanent, healthful control. They were generally without education, without statesmanship, without knowledge of public affairs, and, to speak plainly, without the abilities or genius which might enable them to dispense with experience. Losing sight of the cardinal principle of the American Order, that only those identified with the Republic by birth or permanent residence should manage its political affairs, these leaders fell back upon a bigoted hostility to the Church of Rome, to which many of their original members in Louisiana and elsewhere belonged. The result was that the mighty organization had begun to decay before it attained its growth, and that the old political leaders became members that they might elbow the improvised chieftains from power when the effervescence of the movement should subside. A number of Abolitionists, headed by Henry Wilson and Anson Burlingame, of Massachusetts, sought admission into the lodges, knelt at the altars, pledged themselves by solemn oaths to support the "Order," and then used it with great success for the destruction of the Whig party.
Another noted person who visited Washington early in the Administration of Mr. Fillmore was William M. Tweed, of New York, who came as foreman of the Americus Engine Company, Number Six, a volunteer fire organization. Visiting the White House, the company was ushered into the East Room, where President Fillmore soon appeared, and Tweed, stepping out in front of his command, said: "These are Big Six's boys, Mr. President!" He then walked along the line with Mr. Fillmore, and introduced each member individually. As they were leaving the room, a newspaper reporter asked Tweed why he had not made a longer speech. "There was no necessity," replied the future pillager of the city treasury of New York, "for the Company is as much grander than any other fire company in the world as Niagara Falls is grander than Croton dam." Two years afterward, Tweed, profiting by a division in the Whig ranks in the Fifth District of New York, returned to Washington as a Representative in Congress. He was a regular attendant, never participating in the debates, and always voting with the Democrats. Twice he read speeches which were written for him, and he obtained for a relative the contract for supplying the House with chairs for summer use, which were worthless and soon disappeared.
Senator Andrew Pickens Butler was a prominent figure at the Capitol and in Washington society. He was a trifle larger round at the waistband than anywhere else, his long white hair stood out as if he were charged with electric fluid, and South Carolina was legibly written on his rubicund countenance. The genial old patriarch would occasionally take too much wine in the "Hole in the Wall" or in some committee-room, and then go into the Senate and attempt to bully Chase or Hale; but every one liked him, nevertheless.
Then there was Senator Slidell, of Louisiana, a New Yorker by birth, with a florid face, long gray hair, and prominent eyes, forming a striking contrast in personal appearance with his dapper little colleague, Senator Benjamin, whose features disclosed his Jewish extraction. General Taylor had wished to have Mr. Benjamin in his Cabinet, but scandalous reports concerning Mrs. Benjamin had reached Washington, and the General was informed that she would not be received in society. Mr. Benjamin then rented a house at Washington, furnished it handsomely, and entertained with lavish hospitality. His gentlemen friends would eat his dinners, but they would not bring their wives or daughters to Mrs. Benjamin's evening parties, and she, deeply mortified, went to Paris.
On the first day of December, 1851, Henry Clay spoke in the Senate for the last time, and General Cass presented the credentials of Charles Sumner, who had been elected by one of the coalitions between the anti-slavery Know-Nothings and the Democrats, which gave the latter the local offices in New York, Ohio, and Massachusetts, and elected Seward, Chase, and Sumner to the United States Senate. Soon after Mr. Sumner took his seat in the arena which had been made famous by the political champions of the North, the South, and the West, Mr. Benton said to him, with a patronizing air, "You have come upon the stage too late, sir. Not only have our great men passed away, but the great issues have been settled also. The last of these was the National Bank, and that has been overthrown forever. Nothing is left you, sir, but puny sectional questions and petty strifes about slavery and fugitive-slave laws, involving no national interests."
Mr. Sumner had but two coadjutors in opposing slavery and in advocating freedom when he entered the Senate, but before he died he was the recognized leader of more than two-thirds of that body. He was denounced by a leading Whig newspaper of Boston when he left that city to take his seat as "an agitator," and he was refused a place on any committee of the Senate, as being "outside of any healthy political organization," but he lived to exercise a controlling influence in Massachusetts politics and to be Chairman of the Senate Committee on Foreign Affairs. He had learned from Judge Story the value of systematic industry, and while preparing long speeches on the questions before the Senate he also applied himself sedulously to the practical duties of a Senator, taking especial pains to answer every letter addressed to him.
Mr. Speaker Linn Boyd used to preside with great dignity, sitting on an elevated platform beneath a canopy of scarlet curtains. Seated at his right hand, at the base of the platform beside the "mace," was Andrew Jackson Glossbrenner, the Sergeant-at-Arms, and on the opposite side was Mr. McKnew, the Doorkeeper. Mr. John W. Forney officiated at the Clerk's table, having been elected by a decided majority. His defeat two years previous had been very annoying to his Democratic friends at the North, who were expected to aid the Southern wing of the party with their votes, and yet were often deserted when they desired offices. "It is," said one of them, "paying us a great compliment for our principles, or great contempt for our pliancy." Mr. Buchanan wrote to a Virginia Democratic leader, "Poor Forney deserves a better fate than to be wounded 'in the house of his friends,' and to vote for a Whig in preference to him was the unkindest cut of all. It will, I am confident, produce no change in his editorial course, but I dread its effect." Mr. Forney did not permit his desertion to influence his pen, and his loyalty to the party was rewarded by his election, two years after this defeat, as Clerk of the House.
[Facsimile] [illegible] JEFFERSON DAVIS was born in Christian County, Kentucky, June 3d, 1808; graduated at West Point in 1828; was an officer in the United States Army, 1828-1835; was a Representative from Mississippi, December 1st, 1845 to June, 1846, when he resigned to command the First Regiment of Mississippi Riflemen in the war with Mexico; was United States Senator, December 4th, 1847, to November 1851; was defeated as the Secession candidate for Governor of Mississippi in 1851 by H. S. Foote, Union candidate; was Secretary of War under President Pierce, March 7th, 1853, to March 3d, 1857; was again United States Senator, March 4th, 1857, until he withdrew, January 21st, 1861; was President of the Confederate States; was captured by the United States troops, May 10th, 1865, imprisoned two years at Fortress Monroe, and then released on bail.
The first session of the Thirty-second Congress, which began on the 1st of August, 1852, was characterized by sectional strife, and was devoted to President-making. President Fillmore, who had traveled in the Northern States during the preceding summer, felt confident that he would receive the Whig nomination, and so did Mr. Webster, who "weighed him down"—so Charles Francis Adams wrote Henry Wilson—"as the Old Man of the Sea did Sinbad." Meanwhile Mr. Seward and his henchman, Mr. Weed, were very active, and the latter afterward acknowledged that he had himself intrigued with the Democratic leaders for the nomination of Governor Marcy, who would be sure to carry the State of New York, and thus secure the defeat of the Whig candidate. "Holding President Fillmore and his Secretary of State, Mr. Webster, responsible for a temporary overthrow of the Whig party," says Mr. Weed, "I desired to see those gentlemen left to reap what they had sown. In other words, I wanted either Mr. Fillmore or Mr. Webster to be nominated for President upon their own issues. I devoted several weeks to the removal of obstacles in the way of Governor Marcy's nomination for President by the Democratic National Convention."