General Cass, Mr. Douglas, and Mr. Buchanan were equally active in the Democratic ranks, and their respective friends became so angry with each other that it was an easy matter to win the nomination with what the politicians call "a dark horse."
The sessions of the National Democratic Convention were protracted and stormy, and on the thirty-fifth ballot the name of General Franklin Pierce was brought forward, for the first time, by the Virginia delegation. Several other States voted for the New Hampshire Brigadier, but it did not seem possible that he could be nominated, and the next day, on the forty-eighth ballot, Virginia gave her vote for Daniel S. Dickinson, of New York. It was received with great applause, but Mr. Dickinson, who was a delegate pledged to the support of Cass, was too honorable a man to accept what he thought belonged to his friend. Receiving permission to address the Convention, he eloquently withdrew his own name and pleaded so earnestly for the nomination of General Cass, that he awakened the enthusiasm of the audience, and received a shower of bouquets from the ladies in the galleries, to which he gracefully alluded "as a rose-bud in the wreath of his political destiny."
The Convention at last, on the forty-ninth ballot, nominated General Pierce (Purse, his friends called him) a gentleman of courteous temper, highly agreeable manners, and convivial nature. He had served in the recent war with Mexico; he had never given a vote or written a sentence that the straightest Southern Democrat could wish to blot; and he was identified with the slave-power, having denounced its enemies as the enemies of the Constitution. William R. King, at the time presidentpro temporeof the Senate, was nominated for Vice-President, receiving every vote except the eleven given by the delegation from Illinois, which were for Jefferson Davis. Cass and Douglas were at first much provoked by the action of the Convention, but Buchanan gracefully accepted the situation.
Daniel Webster felt and asserted that he was entitled to receive the Whig nomination. More than thirty years of public service had made him the ablest and the most conspicuous member of his party then on the stage, and neither Fillmore nor Scott could compare with him in the amount and value of public services rendered. He had worked long, assiduously, and faithfully to deserve the honors of his party and to qualify himself for the highest distinction that party could bestow upon him. He must receive its nomination now or never, as he was then upward of sixty years of age, and his vigorous constitution had shown signs of decay. He engaged in the campaign, however, with the hope ad the vigor of youth, writing letters to his friends, circulating large pamphlet editions of his life and of his speeches, and entertaining at his table those through whose influence he hoped to receive the Southern support necessary to secure his success. No statesman ever understood the value of printers' ink better than did Mr. Webster, and he always took care to have a record of what he did and said placed before the country. Unfortunately for his printers, much of his last campaign work was done on credit, and never was paid for.
President Fillmore, meanwhile, was quietly but steadily using the patronage of the Federal Government to secure the election of delegates to the Whig National Convention friendly to his own nomination. Mr. Webster counted on the support of the President's friends, but he never received from Mr. Fillmore any pledges that it would be given. On the contrary, the leading office-holders asserted, weeks prior to the assembling of the Convention, that the contest had already been narrowed down to a question between Fillmore and Scott. Mr. Seward's friends were of the same opinion, and urged the support of Scott as the only way to defeat the nomination of Fillmore. Horace Greeley wrote from Washington to Thurlow Weed: "If Fillmore and Webster will only use each other up, we may possibly recover—but our chance is slim. There is a powerful interest working hard against Douglas; Buchanan will have to fight hard for his own State; if he gets it he may be nominated; Cass is nowhere."
The Whig National Convention, the last one held by that party, met in Baltimore on Wednesday, the 16th of June, 1852. Two days were spent in effecting an organization and in preparing a "platform," after which, on proceeding to ballot for a Presidential candidate, General Scott had one hundred and thirty-four votes, Mr. Fillmore one hundred and thirty-three, and Mr. Webster twenty-nine, every one of which was cast by a Northern delegate. Not a Southern vote was given to him, despite all the promises made, but Mr. Fillmore received the entire Southern strength. The balloting was continued until Saturday afternoon without any change, and even the eloquence of Rufus Choate failed to secure the vote of a single Southern delegate for his cherished friend. After the adjournment of the Convention from Saturday until Monday, Mr. Choate visited Washington, hoping to move Mr. Fillmore; but the President "made no sign," and Mr. Webster saw that the Presidency, to which he had so long aspired, was to pass beyond his reach. He was saddened by the disappointment, and especially wounded when he was informed that Mr. Clay had advised the Southern delegates to support Mr. Fillmore.
A nomination was finally made on the fifty-third ballot, when twenty- eight delegates from Pennsylvania changed their votes from Fillmore to General Scott. That evening a party of enthusiastic Whigs at Washington, after serenading President Fillmore, marched to the residence of Mr. Webster. The band performed several patriotic airs, but some time elapsed before Mr. Webster appeared, wearing a long dressing-gown, and looking sad and weary. He said but a few words, making no allusion to General Scott, and when, in conclusion, he said that, for one, he should sleep well and rise with the lark the next morning, and bade them good-night, the serenaders retired as if they had had a funeral sermon preached to them. Thenceforth Mr. Webster was a disappointed, heart-stricken man, and he retired to Marshfield profoundly disgusted with the insincerity of politicians.
The noisy rejoicings by the Whigs at Washington over the nomination of General Scott disturbed Henry Clay, who lay on his death-bed at the National Hotel, attended only by one of his sons, Thomas Hart Clay, and a negro servant. The "Great Commoner" was very feeble, and a few days later he breathed his last, as a Christian philosopher should die. His hope continued to the end, though true and real, to be tremulous with humility rather than rapturous with assurance. On the evening previous to his departure, sitting an hour in silence by his side, the Rev. Dr. Butler heard him, in the slight wanderings of his mind to other days and other scenes, murmuring the words, "My mother! mother! mother!" and saying "My dear wife," as if she were present.
"Broken with the storms of life," Henry Clay gave up the ghost, and his remains were escorted with high funeral honors to his own beloved Commonwealth of Kentucky, where they rest beneath an imposing monument. Twice a candidate for the Presidency, and twice defeated, his death was mourned by an immense number of attached personal friends, and generally regretted by the people of the United States.
The Whigs were greatly embarrassed by General Scott, who persisted in making campaign speeches, some of which did him great harm. Their mass meetings proved failures, notably one on the battleground of Niagara, but they endeavored to atone for these discouraging events by a profuse distribution of popular literature. They circulated large editions of a tract by Horace Greeley, entitled, "Why am I a Whig?" and of campaign lives of "Old Chapultepec," published in English, French, and German. Mr. Buchanan was unusually active in his opposition to the Whig ticket. "I should regard Scott's election," he wrote to a friend, "as one of the greatest calamities which could befall the country. I know him well, and do not doubt either his patriotism or his integrity; but he is vain beyond any man I have ever known, and, what is remarkable in a vain man, he is obstinate and self-willed and unyielding. His judgment, except in conducting a campaign in the field, is perverse and unsound; and when, added to all this, we consider that, if elected at all, it will be under the auspices of Seward and his Abolition associates, I fear for the fate of this Union." General Scott was mercilessly abused by the Democratic orators and writers also, who even ridiculed the establishment of the Soldiers' Home at Washington, with the contribution levied on the City of Mexico when captured by him, as the creation of an aristocratic body of military paupers.
The Democratic party, forgetting all previous differences, rallied to the support of their candidate. A campaign life of him was written by his old college friend, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and eloquent speakers extolled his statesmanship, his military services, and his devotion to the compromise measures which were to avert the threatened civil war. A good estimate of his character was told by the Whig speakers, as having been given to an itinerant lecturer by the landlord of a New Hampshire village inn. "What sort of a man is General Pierce?" asked the traveler. "Waal, up here, where everybody knows Frank Pierce," was the reply, "and where Frank Pierce knows everybody, he's a pretty considerable fellow, I tell you. But come to spread him out over this whole country, I'm afraid that he'll be dreadful thin in some places."
The death of Mr. Webster aided the Democratic candidate. The broken- down and disappointed statesman died at his loved rural home on the sea-shore, where, by his request, his cattle were driven beneath his window so that he could gaze on them once more before he left them forever. He wrestled with the great Destroyer, showing a reluctance to abandon life, and looking into the future with apprehension rather than with hope. When Dr. Jeffries repeated to him the soothing words of Sacred Writ, "Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me," the dying statesman exclaimed, "Yes; that is what I want, Thy rod; Thy staff!" He was no hypocrite, and although he prayed often and earnestly, he did not pretend that he felt that peace "which passeth all understanding," but he did exhibit a devoted submission and a true reliance on Almighty God. Craving stimulants, he heard Dr. Jeffries tell an attendant, "Give him a spoonful of brandy in fifteen minutes, another in half an hour, and another in three quarters of an hour, if he still lives." These directions were followed with exactness until the arrival of the time last mentioned, when the attendants were undecided about administering another dose. It was in the midst of their doubts that the dying statesman, who had been watching a clock in the room, partly raised his head and feebly remarked: "I still live." The brandy was given to him, and he sank into a state of tranquil unconsciousness, from which he never rallied.
Those who attended the funeral at Marshfield saw Mr. Webster's remains lying in an open iron coffin, beneath the shade of a large elm tree before the house. The body was dressed in a blue coat with gilt buttons, white vest, cravat, pantaloons, gloves, and shoes with dark cloth gaiters. His hand rested upon his breast, and his features wore a sad smile familiar to those who had known him in his later years. The village pastor conducted the services, after which the upper half of the coffin was put on, and on a low platform car, drawn by two black horses, it was taken to the burial- ground on the estate. On either side of the remains walked the pall-bearers selected by the deceased—six sturdy, weather-bronzed farmer-fishermen, who lived in the vicinity—while General Pierce, the Mayor of Boston, Edward Everett, Rufus Choate, and other distinguished personages followed as they best could. There were many evidences of grief among the thousands of Mr. Webster's friends present, and yet death was for him a happy escape from trouble. He was painfully aware that he had forfeited the political confidence of the people of Massachusetts and gained nothing by so doing; he had found that he could not receive a nomination for the Presidency, even from the party which he had so long served, and his pecuniary embarrassments were very annoying. Neither could he, under the circumstances, have continued to hold office under Mr. Fillmore, who, after Webster's funeral, appointed Edward Everett as his successor in the Department of State.
When the nineteenth Presidential election was held, General Scott received only the electoral votes of Massachusetts, Vermont, Kentucky, and Tennessee; Pierce and King received two hundred and fifty-four votes against forty-two votes for Scott and Graham.
[Facsimile]JJCrittendenJOHN JORDAN CRITTENDEN was born in Woodford County, Kentucky,September 10th, 1786; was United States Senator from Kentucky,December 1st, 1817, to March 3d, 1819, and again December 7th,1835, to March 3d, 1841; was Attorney-General under PresidentHarrison, March 5th, 1841, to September 13th, 1841; was again UnitedStates Senator, March 31st, 1842 - 1848; was Governor of Kentucky,1848-1850; was Attorney-General under President Fillmore, July20th, 1850, to March 3d, 1853; was again United States Senator,December 3d, 1855, to March 3d, 1861; was a Representative inCongress, July 4th, 1861, to March 3d, 1863, and died at Frankfort,Kentucky, July 26th, 1863.
General Pierce received a severe blow after his election, a railroad accident in Massachusetts depriving him of his only child, a promising boy, to whom he was devotedly attached. A week before the inauguration he escorted his sorrow-stricken wife to Baltimore, where he left her, and then went to Washington, accompanied by his private secretary, Mr. Sidney Webster. President Fillmore invited them to dine socially at the White House, and in the evening they were present at a numerously attended public reception in the East Room.
The inauguration of General Pierce attracted crowds from the cities on the Atlantic coast, with some from the western slope of the Alleghanies. It was a cold, raw day, and the President-elect rode in a carriage with President Fillmore, surrounded by a body-guard of young gentlemen, mounted on fine horses, and serving for that day as Deputy United States Marshals. There was a military escort, composed of the Marine Corps, the uniformed militia of the District, and visiting companies from Baltimore and Alexandria. Behind the President's carriage marched several political associations and the mechanics at the Navy Yard, with a full-rigged miniature vessel.
As William R. King, the Vice-President elect, was in Cuba, hoping to benefit his health, the Senate elected David J. Atchison, of Missouri, Presidentpro tempore. The Senate, accompanied by the Diplomatic Corps and officers of the army and of the navy, all in full uniform, then moved in procession to the east front of the Capitol. When the cheers with which the President-elect was received had subsided, he advanced to the front of the platform and delivered his inaugural address, which he had committed to memory, although he held the manuscript in his hands.
The personal appearance of General Pierce was dignified and winning, if not imposing, although he was but five feet nine inches high, slenderly built, and without that depth of chest or breadth of shoulder which indicate vigorous constitutions. His complexion was pale and his features were thin and care-worn, but his deportment was graceful and authoritative. It was evident that he belonged to that active, wiry class of men capable of great endurance and physical fatigue.
The inaugural was a plain, straightforward document, intensely national in tone, and it stirred the hearts of the vast audience which heard it like the clarion notes of a trumpet. The new President had an abiding confidence in the stability of our institutions. Snow began to fall before he had concluded his address and taken the oath of office, which was administered by Chief Justice Taney.
William Rufus King took the oath of office as Vice-President on the 4th of March, 1853, at a plantation on the highest of the hills that surround Matanzas, with the luxuriant vegetation of Cuba all around, the clear, blue sky of the tropics overhead, and a delicious sea breeze cooling the pure atmosphere. The oath was administered by United States Consul Rodney, and at the conclusion of the ceremonies the assembled creoles shouted, "Vaya vol con Dios!" (God will be with you), while the veteran politician appeared calm, as one who had fought the good fight and would soon lay hold of eternal light. Reaching his home at Cahaba, Ala., on the 17th of April, he died the following day, and his remains were buried on his plantation, known as the "Pine Hills."
President Pierce formed a Cabinet of remarkable ability. He had wanted Caleb Cushing as his Secretary of State, but the old anti- slavery utterances of the Massachusetts Brigadier had not been forgotten, and Pierce could make him only his Attorney-General. Governor Marcy was placed at the head of the Department of State, and he invited Mr. George Sumner, a brother of the Senator, to become Assistant Secretary of State, but the invitation was declined. James Guthrie, a stalwart, clear-headed Kentuckian, was made Secretary of the Treasury, with Peter G. Washington, a veteran District politician, as Assistant Secretary. Jefferson Davis solicited and received the position of Secretary of War, James C. Dobbin, of North Carolina, was made Secretary of the Navy; Robert McClelland, of Michigan, was designated by General Cass for Secretary of the Interior, and James Campbell, of Pennsylvania, was appointed Postmaster-General, with thirty thousand subordinate places to be filled, its progressive improvements to be looked after, and a general desire on the part of the public for a reduction of postage. An abler Cabinet never gathered around the council-table at the White House.
Jefferson Davis, the Secretary of War, entertained more than any of his associates. His dinner-parties, at which six guests sat down with the host and hostess, were very enjoyable, and his evening receptions, which were attended by the leading Southerners and their Northern allies, were brilliant affairs with one exception. On that occasion, owing, it was to said, to a defect in the gas meter, every light in the house suddenly ceased to burn. It was late, and with great difficulty lamps and candles were obtained to enable the guests to secure their wraps and make their departure.
No other President ever won the affections of the people of Washington so completely as did General Pierce. Such was the respect entertained for him by citizens of all political creeds, that when he took his customary "constitutional" walk down Pennsylvania Avenue to the Capitol and back one could mark his progress by the uplifting of hats as he passed along. He and Mrs. Pierce, disregarding the etiquette of the White House, used to pay social visits to the families of New Hampshire friends holding clerkships, and to have them as guests at their family dinner-table. The President's fascinating courtesy and kindness were irresistible.
Roger A. Pryor first figured at Washington in the spring of 1853. He was an editorial contributor to the WashingtonUnion, the Democratic organ, and he wrote a scathing review ofThe War of Ormuzd and Ahriman, by Henry Winter Davis, of Baltimore, which set for the United States and Russia as the respective champions of the principles of liberty and of despotism, and claimed to foresee in the distant future a mighty and decisive conflict between these persistent combatants. This Mr. Pryor pronounced impossible, asserting that "in every element of national strength and happiness Russia is great and prosperous beyond any other country in Europe," and that the United States and Russia, instead of becoming enemies, "will consolidate and perpetuate their friendly relations by the same just and pacific policy which has regulated their intercourse in times past." This article was very distasteful to the Democratic readers of theUnion, and the editor denounced it. Mr. Pryor came back at him in theIntelligencer, declaring that he was not the eulogist of the Russian Empire, but setting forth at great length the good-will of Russia toward the United States, and especially announcing that "in Russia the maudlin, mock philanthropy ofUncle Tom's Cabinis an unknown disease." It was the general belief in Washington that Mr. Pryor had been inspired by some one connected with the Russian Legation.
Old Madeira wine has always been very popular in Washington, especially on the tables of their Honors the Justices of the Supreme Court. For many years supplies were obtained from the old mercantile houses in Alexandria, which had made direct importations prior to the Revolution. During the Fillmore Administration many Washington cellars were replenished at the sale of the private stock of wines and liquors of the late Josiah Lee, of Baltimore. Fifty demijohns of various brands of Madeira were sold at prices ranging from twenty- four dollars to forty-nine dollars per gallon; and one lot of twenty- two bottles commanded the extreme price of fifteen dollars and fifty cents per bottle, which at five bottles to the gallon is at the rate of seventy-seven dollars and fifty cents per gallon.
Mr. Brady came from New York and opened a "daguerrean saloon" at Washington, and the dim portraits produced on burnished metal were regarded with silent astonishment. Up to that time the metropolis had been visited every winter by portrait and miniature painters, but their work required long sittings and was expensive. The daguerreotypes, which could be produced in a few moments and at a comparatively small cost, became very popular, and Brady's gallery was thronged every morning with distinguished visitors. Mr. Brady was a man of slight figure, well proportioned, with features somewhat resembling the portraits of Vandyke. He possessed wonderful patience, artistic skill, and a thorough acquaintance with the mechanical and chemical features of sun-painting. For the next thirty years he took portraits of almost all the prominent persons who visited Washington City, and in time his reminiscences of them became very interesting.
The citizens of Washington enjoyed a rare treat when Thackeray came to deliver his lectures on the English essayists, wits, and humorists of the eighteenth century. Accustomed to the spread-eagle style of oratory too prevalent at the Capitol, they were delighted with the pleasing voice and easy manner of the burly, gray-haired, rosy- cheeked Briton, who made no gestures, but stood most of the time with his hands in his pockets, as if he were talking with friends at a cozy fireside. He did not deal, like Cervantes, with the ridiculous extravagance of a fantastic order, nor, like Washington Irving, with the faults and foibles of men, but he struck at the very heart of the social life of his countrymen's ancestors with caustic and relentless satire. Some of the more puritanical objected to the moral tendencies of Thackeray's lectures, and argued that the naughty scapegraces of the British court should not have been thus exhumed for the edification of an American audience.
Thackeray made himself at home among the working journalists at Washington, and was always asking questions. He was especially interested in the trial of Herbert, a California Congressman, who had shot dead at a hotel table a waiter who had not promptly served him, and he appeared to study old Major Lane, a "hunter from Kentucky," "half horse and half alligator," but gentlemanly in his manners, and partial to rye-whisky, ruffled shirts, gold-headed canes, and draw-poker. The Major had fought—so he said—under Jackson at New Orleans, under Houston at San Jacinto, and under Zach. Taylor at Buena Vista, and he was then prosecuting a claim before Congress for his services as an agent among the Yazoo Indians. It was better than a play to hear him talk, and to observe Thackeray as he listened.
Rembrandt Peale visited Washington during the Pierce Administration, and greatly interested those who met him with his reminiscences. His birth took place while his father, Charles Wilson Peale, was in camp at Valley Forge. After the War of the Revolution, and while Washington was a resident of Philadelphia, Charles Wilson Peale painted several portraits of him. Young Rembrandt used to pass much of his time in the studio, and in 1786, when the best of the portraits was painted, he stood at the back of his father's chair watching the operation. In 1795, when he was but seventeen years of age, he had himself become a good painter, and Washington then honored him with three sittings of three hours each. The young artist, who was naturally timid and nervous in such a presence and at such a work, got his father to begin a portrait at the same time, and to keep the General in conversation while the work went on. The study of Washington's head then painted by Rembrandt Peale served as the basis of the famous portrait of him which he afterward painted, and which was pronounced by contemporaries of Washington his best likeness. It was exhibited to admiring crowds in Europe and the United States, and in 1832 was purchased for two thousand dollars by the Federal Government, to be hung in the Capitol.
Rev. Charles W. Upham, who represented the Essex district of Massachusetts in Congress, was at one time a victim to our copyright laws. He had compiled with care a life of George Washington, from his own letters, which was, therefore, in some sense, an autobiography. The holders of copyright in Washington's letters, including, if I am not mistaken, Judge Washington and Dr. Sparks, considered the publication of this book by Marsh, Capen & Lyons, of Boston, who had no permission from them, as an infringement of their copyright. The curious question thus presented was tried before Judge Story, who held that it was an infringement, and granted an injunction against the sale of the book. The plates, thus becoming worthless here, were sold to an English house, which printed them.
Jullien, the great musician, gave two concerts at the National Theatre, Washington, in the fall of 1853, with his large orchestra and a galaxy of glorious stars. The effect of many of their performances was overpowering, and the enraptured multitude often for a moment appeared to forget their accustomed restraints, and arose to wave their scarfs or hats in triumph, or blended their shouts of applause with the concluding strains of the "Quadrille Nationale," and other entrancing pieces. The solos were all magnificent and the entire performance was a triumphant success.
[Facsimile] Thaddeus Stevens THADDEUS STEVENS was born at Peacham, Vermont, April 4th, 1792; was a Representative from Pennsyvlania, December 3d, 1849, to March 1st, 1853, and again December 5th, 1859, to August 11th, 1868, when he died at Washington City.
President Pierce, seconded by Secretary Marcy, made his foreign appointments with great care. Mr. Buchanan was sent as Minister to the Court of St. James, a position for which he was well qualified, and John Y. Mason, of Virginia, was accredited to France. The support given to the Democratic party by the adopted citizens of the Republic was acknowledged by the appointment of Mr. Soulé, a Frenchman, who had been expelled from his native land as a revolutionist, as Minister to Spain; Robert Dale Owen, an Englishman, noted for his agrarian opinions, as Minister to Naples, and Auguste Belmont, Austrian born, Minister to the Netherlands.
The civil appointments, of every official grade, large in their number and extended in their influence upon various localities and interests, were made with distinguished ability and sagacity, and were received with general and widespread satisfaction. The President's thorough knowledge of men, his intimate acquaintance with the relations of sections heretofore temporarily separated from the great mass of the Democracy, and his quick perception of the ability and character essential to the faithful performance of duty were active throughout, and he kept constantly in sight his avowed determination to unite the Democratic party upon the principles by which he won his election. Where so many distinguished names were presented for his consideration, and where disappointment was the inevitable fate of large numbers, a degree of complaint was unavoidable. But no sooner was the fund of Executive patronage well-nigh exhausted than might be heard, "curses, not loud but deep." Presently, as the number of disappointed place-hunters increased, the tide of indignation began to swell, and the chorus of discontent grew louder and louder, until the whole land was filled with the clamors of a multitudinous army of martyrs. For the first three months after the inauguration the Democratic party was a model of decorum, harmony, and contentment. All was delight and enthusiasm. Frank Pierce was the man of the time; his Cabinet was an aggregation of the wisdom of the country; his policy the very perfection of statesmanship. Even the Whigs did not utter one word of discontent. Frank Pierce was still President, his Cabinet unchanged, his policy the same, but all else, how changed! But it was no fault of his. He had but fifty thousand offices to dispense, which, in the nature of things, could go but a short way to appease the hunger of two hundred thousand applicants. For every appointment there were two disappointments, for every friend secured he made two enemies. A state of universal satisfaction was succeeded by a state of violent discontent, and the Administration, without any fault of its own, encountered the opposition of those who but a few weeks previously were loudest in its praise.
In order to re-enlist public favor and to reunite the Democratic party, Messrs. Buchanan, Mason, and Soulé, United States Ministers respectively to England, France, and Spain, were ordered by the President, through Mr. Marcy, to meet at Ostend. There, after mature deliberations, and in obedience to instruction from Washington, they prepared, signed, and issued a brief manifesto, declaring that the United States ought to purchase Cuba with as little delay as possible. Political, commercial, and geographical reasons therefor were given, and it was asserted in conclusion that "the Union can never enjoy repose, nor possess reliable security, so long as Cuba is not embraced within its boundaries." This was carrying out the views of Mr. Buchanan, who, when Secretary of State, in June, 1848, had, under the instructions of President Polk, offered Spain one hundred million of dollars for the island.
Mr. Buchanan had accepted the mission to England, that he might from a distance pull every available wire to secure the nomination in 1856, coyly denying all the time that he wanted to be President. In a heretofore unpublished letter of his, dated September 5th, 1853, which is in my collection of autographs, he says: "You propounded a question to me before I left the United States which I have not answered. I shall now give it an answer in perfect sincerity, without the slightest mental reservation. I have neither the desire nor the intention again to become a candidate for the Presidency. On the contrary, this mission is tolerable to me alone because it will enable me gracefully and gradually to retire from an active participation in party politics. Should it please Providence to prolong my days and restore me to my native land, I hope to pass the remnant of my life at Wheatland, in comparative peace and tranquillity. This will be most suitable both to my age (now past sixty-two) and my inclinations. But whilst these are the genuine sentiments of my heart, I do not think I ought to say that in no imaginable state of circumstances would I consent to be nominated as a candidate."
Mr. Buchanan was greatly exercised over the court costume which he was to wear, and finally compromised by adopting a black evening dress suit, with the addition of a small sword, which distinguished him from the servants at the royal palace. He had always been jealous of Governor Marcy, then Secretary of State, and instead of addressing his despatches to the Department of State, as is customary for foreign Ministers, he used to send them directly to the President. It is said that General Pierce rather enjoyed seeing his chief Cabinet officer thus snubbed, and that he used to answer Mr. Buchanan's communications himself.
The proposition to repeal the Missouri Compromise of 1820, and to admit Kansas and Nebraska as States, with or without slavery, as their citizens might respectively elect, gave rise to exciting debates. The North was antagonistic to the South, and the champions of freedom looked defiantly at the defenders of slavery. One of the most exciting scenes in the House of Representatives was between Mr. John C. Breckinridge, of Kentucky, and Mr. Francis B. Cutting, a New York lawyer, who had defeated Mr. James Brooks, who then was editor of theExpress.
Mr. Cutting was advocating the passage of the Senate bill, and complaining that the friends of the Administration not only wanted to consign it to the Committee of the Whole—that tomb of the Capulets—but they had encouraged attacks in their organs upon him and those who stood with him. Mr. Breckinridge interrupted him while he was speaking, to ask if a remark made was personal to himself, but Mr. Cutting said that it was not. Mr. Breckinridge, interrupting Mr. Cutting a second time, said that while he did not want to charge the gentleman from New York with having intentionally played the part of an assassin, he had said, and he could not now take it back, that the act, to all intents, was like throwing one arm around it in friendship, and stabbing it with the other—to kill the bill. As to a statement by the gentleman that in the hour of his greatest need the "Hards" of New York had come to his assistance, he could not understand it, and asked for an explanation.
"I will give it," replied Mr. Cutting. "When, during the last Congressional canvass in Kentucky, it was intimated that the friends of the honorable Representative from the Lexington district needed assistance to accomplish his election, my friends in New York made up a subscription of some fifteen hundred dollars and transmitted it to Kentucky, to be employed for the benefit of the gentleman, who is now the peer of Presidents and Cabinets."
"Yes, sir!" exclaimed Mr. Breckinridge, springing to his feet, "and not only the peer of Presidents and Cabinets, but the peer of the gentleman from New York, fully and in every respect."
A round of applause followed this assertion, and ere it had subsided the indomitable Mike Walsh availed himself of the opportunity to give his colleague a rap. "When [he said] we came here we protested against the Administration interfering in the local affairs of the State of New York, and now my colleague states that a portion of his constituents have been guilty of the same interference in the affairs of the people of Kentucky." "Is that all," said Mr. Cutting, in a sneering tone, "that the gentleman from New York rose for?" "That's all," replied Mr. Walsh, "but I will by on hand by and by, though."
Mr. Breckinridge, his eyes flashing fire, remarked in measured tones that the gentleman from New York should have known the truth of what he uttered before he pronounced it on the floor. He (Mr. B.) was not aware that any intimations were sent from Kentucky that funds were needed to aid in his election, nor was he aware that they were received. He did not undertake to say what the fact might be in regard to what the gentleman had said, but he had no information whatever of that fact. He (Mr. B.) came to Congress not by the aid of money, but against the use of money. The gentleman could not escape by any subtlety or by any ingenuity a thorough and complete exposure of any ingenious device to which he might resort for the purpose of putting gentlemen in a false position, and the sooner he stopped that game the better.
Mr. Cutting, who was also very much excited, made an angry reply, in which he stated "that he had given the gentleman an opportunity of indulging in one of the most violent, inflammatory, and personal assaults that had ever been known upon this floor; and he would ask how could the gentleman disclaim any attack upon him. The whole tenor and scope of the speech of the gentleman from Kentucky was an attack upon his motives in moving to commit the bill. It was in vain for the gentleman to attempt to escape it by disclaiming it; the fact was before the Committee. But he would say to the gentleman that he scorned his imputation. How dare the gentleman undertake to assert that he had professed friendship for the measure with a view to kill it, to assassinate it by sending it to the bottom of the calendar? And then, when he said that the Committee of the Whole had under its control the House bill upon this identical subject, which the Committee intended to take up, discuss, amend, and report to the House, the gentleman skulked behind the Senate bill, which had been sent to the foot of the calendar!"
"Skulked!" hissed Mr. Breckinridge. "I ask the gentleman to withdraw that word!"
"I withdraw nothing!" replied Mr. Cutting. "I have uttered what I have said in answer to one of the most violent and most personal attacks that has ever been witnessed upon this floor."
"Then," said Mr. Breckinridge, "when the gentleman says I skulked, he says what is false!" The Southern members began to gather around the excited Kentuckian, and the Speaker, pounding with his gavel, pronounced the offensive remark out of order.
"Mr. Chairman," quietly remarked Mr. Cutting, "I do not intend upon this floor to answer the remark which the gentleman from Kentucky has thought proper to employ. It belongs to a different region. It is not ere that I will desecrate my lips with undertaking to retort in that manner."
This settled the question, and a duel appeared to be inevitable. The usual correspondence followed, but President Pierce and other potent friends of the would-be belligerents interfered, and the difficult was amicably adjusted, under "the code of honor," without recourse to weapons.
Governor Marcy, President Pierce's Secretary of State, was a great card-player, and Mr. Labouchere tells a good story which happened when he was Secretary of the British Legation at Washington. "I went," said he, "with the British Minister, to a pleasant watering- place in Virginia, where we were to meet Mr. Marcy, the then United States Secretary of State, and a reciprocity treaty between Canada and the United States was to be quietly discussed. Mr. Marcy, the most genial of men, was as cross as a bear. He would agree to nothing. 'What on earth is the matter with your chief?' I said to a secretary who accompanied him. 'He does not have his rubber of whist,' answered the secretary. After this every night the Minister and I played at whist with Mr. Marcy and his secretary, and every night we lost. The stakes were very trifling, but Mr. Marcy felt flattered by beating the Britishers at what he called their own game. His good humor returned, and every morning when the details of the treaty were being discussed we had our revenge, and scored a few points for Canada." A true account of the money designedly lost at Washington by diplomats, heads of departments, and Congressmen would give a deep insight into the secret history of legislation. What Representative could vote against the claim of a man whose money he had been winning, in small sums, it is true, all winter?
General John A. Thomas, of New York, who was Assistant Secretary of State during a part of President Pierce's Administration, was a fine, soldierly looking man, very gentlemanly in his deportment. He was a native of Tennessee, and was for several years an officer in the United States Army, commanding at one time the corps of cadets. He married a Miss Ronalds, who belonged to an old New York family, and he took her with him when he went abroad as Solicitor to the Board of Commissioners appointed by the President to adjust the claims of American citizens upon the British Government. Mr. Buchanan was the American Minister at the Court of St. James, and Mr. Sickles Secretary of Legation. Mrs. Thomas having expressed a wish to be presented at court, Mr. Buchanan assented, and, when the day for presentation arrived, requested Mrs. Thomas to place herself under the charge of Mrs. Sickles, who would accompany her to the palace of St. James. This arrangement Mrs. Thomas decidedly declined, and by so doing gave so much offense to Mr. Buchanan that she was never presented at court at all. Nor did the matter end here. When Mr. Buchanan came to the Presidency he found General Thomas filling the office of Assistant Secretary of State. From this office he immediately ejected him, for the old grudge he bore Mrs. Thomas for refusing to go to court with Mrs. Sickles, as General Thomas declared to his friends. Mr. Buchanan was always very fond of Mr. Sickles and his wife, and it was said that he narrowly escaped being in the Sickles' house when Barton Key was shot down after coming from it.
The Amoskeag Veterans, of Manchester, New Hampshire, a volunteer corps which wore the Continental uniform and marched to the music of drums and fifes, came to Washington to pay their respects to the President, who received them with lavish hospitality. They visited Mount Vernon under escort of a detachment of volunteer officers, and were escorted by the venerable G. W. P. Custis around the old home of his illustrious relative. At a ball given in the evening the "old man eloquent" wore the epaulettes originally fastened on his shoulders by him who was "first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen." The sword given him by General Washington Mr. Custis had presented to his son-in- law, Captain Robert E. Lee, of the Engineer Corps, during the Mexican campaign.
[Facsimile] John Tyler JOHN TYLER was born in Charles County, Virginia, March 29th, 1790; was a Representative in Congress from Virginia, December 17th, 1816, to March 3d, 1821; was United States Senator from Virginia, December 3d, 1827, to February 28th, 1836; was elected Vice-President on the Harrison ticket in 1840; became President, after the death of President Harrison, April 4th, 1841; was a delegate to the Peace Convention of 1861, and its President; was a delegate to the Provisional Congress of the Confederate States, which assembled at Richmond in July, 1861; was elected a Representative from Virginia in the first Confederate Congress, but died at Richmond, Virginia, before taking his seat, January 17th, 1862.
The repeal of the Missouri Compromise and the enactment of the Fugitive Slave Law re-opened the flood-gates of sectional controversy. The Native American organization was used at the North by the leading Abolitionists for the disintegration of the Whigs, and they founded a new political party, with freedom inscribed upon its banners. The Free-Soil Democrats who had rebelled against Southern rule, with the Liberty Whigs, and those who were more openly arrayed against slavery, united, and were victorious at the Congressional elections in the Northern States in the autumn of 1854. "The moral idea became a practical force," and the "Irrepressible Conflict" was commenced. "As Republicans," said Charles Sumner, "we go forth to encounter the oligarchs of slavery."
The great contest was opened by a struggle in the House of Representatives over the Speakership. Nathaniel Prentiss Banks, a Democrat, who had joined the Know-Nothings, was the Northern candidate, although Horace Greeley, with Thurlow Weed and William Schouler as his aides-de-camp, endeavored to elect Lewis D. Campbell, an Ohio American. The Southern Know-Nothings voted at one time for Henry M. Fuller, of Pennsylvania, but they dropped him like a hot potato when they learned that he had accepted a place on the Republican Committee of his State. William Aiken, a large slaveholder in South Carolina, was the favorite Southern candidate, although the vote of the solid South was successively given to several others. Meanwhile, as day after day passed, the President's message was withheld, and all legislation was at a dead-lock. The Sergeant- at-Arms, Colonel Glossbrenner, an ex-member of the House, obtained a loan of twenty thousand dollars from a bank in Pennsylvania, which enabled him to make advances to impecunious members of both parties, and thus to insure his re-election.
Early in January an attempt was made to "sit it out," and all night the excited House seethed like a boiling cauldron; verdant novices were laughed down as they endeavored to make some telling point, while sly old stagers lay in ambush to spring out armed with "points of order." Emasculate conservatives were snubbed by followers of new prophets; belligerent Southrons glared fiercely at phlegmatic Yankees; one or two intoxicated Solons gabbled sillily upon every question, and sober clergymen gaped, as if sleepy and disgusted with political life. Banks, unequaled in his deportment, was as cool as a summer cucumber; Aiken, his principal opponent, was courteous and gentlemanlike to all; Giddings wore a broad-brimmed hat to shield his eyes from the rays of the gas chandelier; Stephens, of Georgia, piped forth his shrill response, and Senator Wilson went busily about "whipping-in." Soon after midnight the South Americans began to relate their individual experience in true camp- meeting style, the old-line Democrats were rampant, the few Whigs were jubilant, and the bone of Catholicism was pretty will picked by those who had been peeping at politics through dark-lanterns, and who were "know-nothings" about what they had done. In short, every imaginable topic of discussion, in order or out of order, was lugged in to kill time.
Meanwhile the supply of ham at the eating-counter below-stairs was exhausted, the oysters were soon after minus, and those who had brought no lunch had to mumble ginger-cakes. It was remarked by good judges that as the morning advanced the coffee grew weaker, suggesting a possibility that the caterer could not distinguish between cocoa and cold water, and only replenished his boiler with the latter. There were more questions of order, more backing people up to vote, and an increase of confusion. Men declared that they would "stick," while they entreated others to shift, and as daylight streamed in upon the scene, the political gamesters had haggard and careworn countenances. The result of the night's work was no choice.
At last, after nine long, tedious weeks, the agony was over, and Massachusetts furnished the Thirty-fourth Congress with its Speaker. Although what was termed "Americanism" played an important though concealed part in the struggle, the real battle was between the North and the South—the stake was the extension of slavery. When the decisive vote was reached the galleries were packed with ladies, who, like the gentle dames in the era of chivalry, sat interested lookers-on as the combating parties entered the arena. On the one side was Mr. Aiken, a Representative from the chivalric, headstrong State of South Carolina, the son of an Irishman, the inheritor of an immense wealth, and the owner of eleven hundred slaves. Opposed to him was Mr. Banks, of Massachusetts, a State which was the very antipodes of South Carolina in politics, who, by his own exertions, unaided by a lineage or wealth or anything save his own indomitable will, had conquered a position among an eminently conservative people. Voting was commenced, and each minute seemed to be an age, as some members had to explain their votes, but at length the tellers began to "foot up." It had been agreed that the result should be announced by the teller belonging to the party of the successful candidate, and when the sheet was handed to Mr. Benson, of Maine, the "beginning of the end" was known. Radiant with joy, he announced that Nathaniel P. Banks, Jr., had received one hundred and three votes; William Aiken, one hundred; H. M. Fuller, six; L. D. Campbell, four; and Daniel Wells, Jr., of Wisconsin, one. The election was what a Frenchman would call an "accomplished fact," and hearty cheers were heard on all sides.
Magnanimity is not a prominent ingredient in political character, and some factious objections were made, by Mr. Aiken soon put a stop to them. Rising with that dignity peculiar to wealthy and portly gentlemen of ripe years, he requested permission to conduct the Speaker-elect to the chair. This disarmed opposition, and after some formalities, he was authorized, by a large majority resolve, to perform the duty, accompanied by Messrs. Fuller and Campbell. Cheer after cheer, with waving of hats and ladies' handkerchiefs, announced that on the one hundred and thirty-third vote the Speaker's chair was occupied. The mace, emblem of the Speaker's authority, was brought from its resting-place and elevated at his side. The House was organized.
The address of Mr. Banks, free from all cant, and delicately alluding to those American principles to which he owed his office, was happily conceived and admirably delivered. Then old Father Giddings, standing beneath the large chandelier, with his silvery locks flowing picturesquely around his head, held up his hand and administered the oath of office. The authoritative gavel was handed up by Colonel Forney, who was thanked by a resolution complimenting him for the ability with which he had presided during the protracted contest, and then the House adjourned.
It then became necessary to divide the spoils, and after an exciting contest, Cornelius Wendell, a Democratic nominee, was elected Printer of the House by Republican votes, in consideration of certain percentages of his profits paid to designated parties. The House binding was given to Mr. Williams, editor of the ToledoBlade, a lawyer by profession, who had never bound a book in his life. Mr. Robert Farnham paid him a considerable sum for his contract, and the work was done by Mr. Tretler, a practical bookbinder. Mr. Simon Hanscomb, who had been efficient in bringing about the nomination of Mr. Banks, received a twelve-hundred dollar sinecure clerkship, and others who had aided in bringing about the result were cared for. One Massachusetts Representative had his young son appointed a page by the doorkeeper, but when Speaker Banks learned of it, he ordered the appointment to be canceled. Luckily for the lad, the father was enabled to secure for him an appointment as a cadet at West Point, and he became a gallant officer.
The first session of the Thirty-fourth Congress was protracted until the 18th of August, 1856, and it was distinguished by acrimonious debate. The most remarkable speaker was Mr. Stephens, of Georgia, of whom it might be said, as of St. Paul, "his bodily presence is weak," while his shrill, thin voice, issuing as it were by jerks from his narrow chest, recalled John Randolph. Contrasting widely in size was the burly Humphrey Marshall, of Kentucky, who had won laurels in the Mexican War, as had the gallant General Quitman, a Representative from Mississippi. Henry Winter Davis, of Baltimore, and Anson Burlingame, of Boston, were the most eloquent and enthusiastic of those who had been washed into Congress by the Know-Nothing wave, and with them had come some ignorant and bigoted fellows. Equally prominent, but better qualified, on the other side was John Kelly, who had defeated the candidates brought out by "Sam" and "Sambo" to oppose him. The venerable Joshua R. Giddings, of Ohio, who led the abolition forces, was as austerely bitter as Cato was in ancient Utica when he denounced the Fugitive Slave Law, under the operations of which many runaway slaves were captured at the North and returned to their Southern masters.
The eloquence of Mr. Clingman, who represented North Carolina, was alternately enlivened by epigrammatic wit or envenomed by scorching reply. Mr. Justin S. Morrill, of Vermont, was commencing a long and useful Congressional career. Mr. Schuyler Colfax, an editor- politician, represented an Indiana district. The veteran Mr. Charles J. Faulkner, with his choleric son-in-law, Mr. Thomas S. Bocock, and the erratic and chivalrous Judge Caskie, represented Virginia districts. Mr. Elihu B. Washburne, of Illinois, sat near his brother, Israel D. Washburne, of Maine. Mr. Lyman Trumbull, of Illinois, was then an ardent Republican, and so was Mr. Francis E. Spinner, of New York, whose wonderful autograph afterward graced public securities.
Mr. Albert Rust, one of the Representatives from Arkansas, won some notoriety by attacking Horace Greeley at his hotel. The next day he was brought before Justice Morsell, and gave bonds to appear at the next session of the Criminal Court. He appeared to glory in what he had done. Mr. Greeley was evidently somewhat alarmed, and during the remainder of his sojourn at Washington his more stalwart friends took care that he should not be unaccompanied by a defender when he appeared in public.
The Territory of Utah was represented in the House by Mr. John N. Burnhisel, a small, dapper gentleman, who in deportment and tone of voice resembled Robert J. Walker. It was very rarely that he participated in debate, and his forte was evidently taciturnity. In private conversation he was fluent and agreeable, defending the peculiar domestic institutions of his people. The delegate from Oregon was Mr. Joseph Lane, who had served bravely in the Mexican war, gone to Oregon as its first Governor, and been returned as its first Territorial Delegate. He was a keen-eyed, trimly built man, of limited education, but the possessor of great common sense. Henry M. Rice, the first Delegate from the Territory of Minnesota, had been for years an Indian trader in connection with the American Fur Company, and was thoroughly acquainted with the people he represented, and whose interests he faithfully served. New Mexico, then aterra incognita, was represented by Don José Manuel Gallegos, a native of the Territory, who had been educated in the Catholic schools of Mexico, and who was devoted to the Democratic party. He had as a rival Don Miguel A. Otero, also a native of New Mexico, who had been educated at St. Louis, and whose Democracy was of the more liberal school. He successfully contested the seat of Mr. Gallegos in the Thirty-fourth Congress, and secured his re- election in the two ensuing ones.
The Senate was behind the House in entering into the "irrepressible conflict." The death of Vice-President King having left the chair of the presiding officer vacant, it was filledpro temporeby Mr. Jesse D. Bright, of Indiana. He was a man of fine presence, fair abilities, and a fluent speaker, thoroughly devoted to the Democratic party as then controlled by the South. He regarded the anti-slavery movement as the offspring of a wanton desire to meddle with the affairs of other people, and to grasp political power, or —to use the words of one who became an ardent Republican—as the product of hypocritical selfishness, assuming the mask and cant of philanthropy merely to rob the South and to enrich New England. The rulings of the Chair, while it was occupied by Senator Bright, were all in favor of the South and of the compromises which had been entered into. The Secretary of the Senate, its Sergeant-at- Arms, its door-keepers, messengers, and even its little pages, were subservient to the South.
Mr. James Murray Mason, a type of the old patrician families of Virginia, was one of the few remaining polished links between the statesmen of those days and of the past. His first ancestor in Virginia, George Mason, commanded a regiment of cavalry in the Cavalier army of Charles Stuart (afterward Charles II) in the campaign against the Roundhead troops of Oliver Cromwell. After the defeat of the royal forces at the battle of Worcester, Colonel Mason escaped to Virginia, and soon afterward established a plantation on the Potomac, where his lineal descendants resided generation after generation. The future Senator was educated at Georgetown, in the then infant days of the Federal city, and the society of such statesmen as then sat in the councils of the republic was in itself an education. He possessed a stalwart figure, a fine, imposing head covered with long gray hair, a pleasing countenance, and a keen eye. No Senator had a greater reverence for the peculiar institutions of the South, or a more thorough contempt for the Abolitionists of the North. His colleague, Mr. Robert M. T. Hunter, was of less aristocratic lineage, but had received a more thorough education. He had served in the Twenty-sixth Congress as Speaker of the House, and he was thoroughly acquainted with parliamentary law and usages. He had also paid great attention to finance and to the tariff questions. Solidly built, with a massive head and a determined manner, he was very impressive in debate, and his speeches on financial questions were listened to with great attention.
John P. Hale was a prominent figure in the Senate, and never failed to command attention. The keen shafts of the Southerners, aimed at him, fell harmlessly to his feet, and his wonderful good nature disarmed malicious opposition. Those who felt that he had gone far astray in his political opinions did not accuse him of selfish motives, sordid purposes, or degraded intrigues. His was the "chasseur" style of oratory—now skirmishing on the outskirts of an opponent's position, then rallying on some strange point, pouring in a rattling fire, standing firm against a charge, and ever displaying a perfect independence of action and a disregard of partisan drill.
President Pierce felt very unkindly toward Mr. Hale. At an evening reception, when the Senator from New Hampshire approached, escorting his wife and daughters, the President spoke to the ladies, but deliberately turned his back upon Mr. Hale. This action by one so courteous as was General Pierce created much comment, and was the subject of earnest discussion in drawing-rooms as well as at the Capitol.
[Facsimile] Lewis Cass LEWIS CASS was born at Exeter, New Hampshire, October 9th, 1782; crossed the Allegheny Mountains on foot when seventeen years of age to Ohio, where he commenced the practice of law; was colonel of the Third Ohio Volunteers, which was a part of General Hull's army, surrendered at Detroit, August 16th, 1812; was Governor of Michigan Territory, 1813-1831; was Secretary of War under President Jackson, 1831-1836; was Minister to France, October 4th, 1836, to November 12th, 1842; was United States Senator from Michigan, December 1st, 1845, to May 29th, 1848; was defeated as the Democratic candidate for President in the fall of 1848; was elected to fill the vacancy in the Senate, occasioned by his own resignation, December 3d, 1849, to March 3d, 1857; was Secretary of State under President Buchanan, March 4th, 1857, to December 17th, 1860, when he resigned; retired to Detroit, Michigan, where he died, June 17th, 1866.
Charles Sumner had not spoken on the slavery question immediately on taking his seat in the Senate, and some of his abolition friends in Boston had began to fear that he, too, had been enchanted by the Circe of the South. Theodore Parker said, in a public speech: "I wish he had spoken long ago, but it is for him to decide, not us. 'A fool's bolt is soon shot,' while a wise man often reserves his fire." But Senator Seward, who had been taught by experience how far a Northern man could go in opposition to the slave-power, advised him that "retorted scorn" would be impolitic and perhaps unsafe.
Mr. Sumner, however, soon began to occupy the floor of the Senate Chamber when he could get an opportunity. His speeches were able and exhaustive disquisitions, polished and repolished before their delivery, and arraigning the South in stately and measured sentences which contained stinging rebukes. The boldness of his language soon attracted public attention, and secured his recognition as the chosen champion of Freedom. One afternoon, while he was speaking, Senator Douglas, walking up and down behind the President's chair in the old Senate Chamber and listening to him, remarked to a friend: "Do you hear that man? He may be a fool, but I tell you that man has pluck. I wonder whether he knows himself what he is doing? I am not sure whether I should have the courage to say those things to the men who are scowling around him."
Mr. Sumner was at that time strikingly prepossessing in his appearance:
"Not that his dress attracted vulgar eyes,With Fashion's gewgaws flauntingly display'd;He had the bearing of the gentleman;And nobleness of mind illumined his mien,Winning at once attention and respect."
He was over six feet in stature, with a broad chest and graceful manners. His features, though not perhaps strictly regular, were classical, and naturally of an animated cast; his hazel eyes were somewhat inflamed by night-work; he wore no beard, except a small pair of side-whiskers, and his black hair lay in masses over his high forehead. I do not remember to have ever seen two finer- looking men in Washington than Charles Sumner and Salmon P. Chase, as they came together to a dinner-party at the British Legation, each wearing a blue broadcloth dress-coat with gilt buttons, a white waistcoat, and black trowsers.
The conservative Senators soon treated Mr. Sumner as a fanatic unfit to associate with them, and they refused him a place on any committee, as "outside of any political organization." This stimulated him in the preparation of a remarkable arraignment of the slave-power, which he called the "crime against Kansas." It was confidentially printed before its delivery that advance copies might be sent to distant cities, and nearly every one permitted to read it, including Mr. William H. Seward, advised Mr. Sumner to tone down its offensive features. But he refused. He was not, as his friend Carl Schurz afterward remarked, "conscious of the stinging force of the language he frequently employed, . . . and he was not unfrequently surprised, greatly surprised, when others found his language offensive." He delivered the speech as it had been written and printed, occupying two days, and he provoked the Southern Senators and their friends beyond measure.
Preston S. Brooks, a tall, fine-looking Representative from South Carolina, who had served gallantly in the Mexican war, was incited to revenge certain phrases used by Mr. Sumner, which he was told reflected upon his uncle, Senator Butler. Entering the Senate Chamber one day after the adjournment, he went up to Mr. Sumner, who sat writing at his desk, with his head down, and dealt him several severe blows in the back of his head with a stout gutta- percha cane as he would have cut at him right and left with a dragoon's broadsword.
Mr. Sumner's long legs were stretched beneath his desk, so that he was pinioned when he tried to rise, and the blood from his wound on his head blinded him. In his struggle he wrenched the desk from the floor, to which it had been screwed, but before he could gain his feet his assailant had gratified his desire to punish him. Several persons had witnessed this murderous assault without interfering, and when Mr. Sumner, stunned and bleeding, was led to a sofa in the anteroom, Mr. Brooks was congratulated on what he had done.
For two years Mr. Sumner was a great sufferer, but the people of Massachusetts, recognizing him as their champion, kept his empty chair in the Senate ready for him to occupy again when he became convalescent. A chivalrous sympathy for him as he endured the cruel treatment prescribed by modern science contributed to his fame, and he became the leading champion of liberty in the impending conflict for freedom. Mr. Seward regarded the situation with a complacent optimism, Mr. Hale good-naturedly joked with the Southern Senators, and Mr. Chase drifted along with the current, all of them adorning but not in any way shaping the tide of events. With Mr. Sumner it was different, for he possessed that root of statesmanship —the power of forethought. Although incapacitated for Senatorial duties, his earnest words, like the blast of a trumpet, echoed through the North, and he was recognized as the martyr-leader of the Republican party. The injury to his nervous system was great, but the effect of Brooks' blows upon the slave-holding system was still more injurious. Before Mr. Sumner had resumed his seat both Senator Butler and Representative Brooks had passed away.
The debate in the House of Representatives on a resolution censuring Mr. Brooks for his murderous attack (followed by his resignation and unanimous re-election) was marked by acrimonious altercations, with threats of personal violence by the excited Southerners, who found themselves on the defensive. Henry Wilson and other Northern Congressmen went about armed with revolvers, and gave notice that while they would not fight duels, they would defend themselves if attacked. Mr. Anson Burlingame, who had come from Michigan to complete his studies at Harvard College, married the daughter of a wealthy Boston merchant, and had been elected to Congress by the Know-Nothings and Abolitionists, accepted a challenge from Mr. Brooks. He selected the Clifton House, on the Canadian shore of Niagara Falls, as the place of meeting, which the friends of Mr. Brooks declared was done that the duel could not take place, as Mr. Brooks could not pass through the Northern States, where he was so universally hated. Mr. Lewis D. Campbell, who was Mr. Burlingame's second, repelled this insinuation, and was confident that his principal "meant business."
During the administration of President Pierce, Congress created the rank of Lieutenant-General, and General Scott received the appointment. He established his head-quarters at Washington, and appeared on several occasions in full uniform riding a spirited charger. Colonel Jefferson Davis, then Secretary of War, and "Old Chapultepec," as Scott was familiarly called by army officers, did not get along harmoniously, and the President invariably sided with his Secretary of War. Mr. Seward, meanwhile, busily availed himself of the opportunity to alienate General Scott from his Southern friends.
While the Northern and Southern politicians "bit their thumbs" at each other, the followers and the opponents of Senator Douglas in the Democratic ranks became equally hostile, and in some instances belligerent. I was then the associate editor of theEvening Star, a lively local sheet owned and edited by Mr. Douglas Wallach. Walking along Pennsylvania Avenue one afternoon, I saw just before me Mr. Wallach engaged in an excited controversy with an elderly gentleman, who I afterward learned was Mr. "Extra Billy" Smith, an ex-Representative in Congress, who had grown rich by the extra allowances made to him as a mail contractor. Each was calling the other hard names in a loud tone of voice, and as I reached them they clinched, wrestled for a moment, and then Smith threw Wallach heavily to the sidewalk. Sitting on his prostrate foe, Smith began to pummel him, but at the first blow Wallach got one of his antagonist's thumbs into his mouth, where he held it as if it were in a vise. Smith roared, "Let go my thumb! you are eating it to the bone!" Just then up came Mr. Keitt, of South Carolina, and Mr. Bocock, of Virginia, who went to the rescue of Smith, Keitt saying: "This is no way for gentlemen to settle their disputes," as he forced Wallach's jaws apart, to release the "chawed-up" thumb. Wallach was uninjured, but for several weeks he went heavily armed, expecting that Smith would attack him.
One day Mr. McMullen, of Virginia, in advocating the passage of a bill, alluded to some previous remarks of the gentleman from Ohio, not the one (Mr. Giddings) "who bellowed so loudly," he said, "but to his sleek-headed colleague" (Mr. Taylor). Mr. Taylor, who was entering the hall just as this allusion was made to him, replied that the would rather have a sleek head than a blockhead.
Mr. McMullen then said: "I intended nothing personally offensive, which no one ought to have known better than the gentleman himself. I made use of the remark at which the gentleman exhibited an undue degree of excitement to produce a little levity; neither of us ought to complain of our heads. If united, there would not be more brains than enough for one common head."
Senator Jones, of Tennessee, generally called "Lean Jimmy Jones," was the only Democrat who ever tried to meet Mr. John P. Hale with his own weapons—ridicule and sarcasm. One day, after having been worsted in a verbal tilt, Mr. Jones sought revenge by telling a story as illustrating his opponent's adroitness. There was a Kentuckian, he said, whose name was Sam Wilson, who settled on the margin of the Mississippi River. He had to settle upon high lands, near swamps from ten to twenty miles wide. The swamps were filled with wild hogs, which were considered a species of public property that every man had a right to shoot, but they did not have a right thereby to shoot tame ones.
Sam had a very large family, and was known to entertain a mortal aversion to work. Yet he always lived well and had plenty of meat. It was inquired how Sam had always so much to eat? Nobody saw him work. He used to hunt and walk about, and he had plenty of bacon constantly on hand. People began to suspect that Sam was not only shooting wild hogs, but sometimes tame ones; so they watched him a good deal to see whether they could not catch him. Sam, however, was too smart for them, and always evaded, just (said Mr. Jones) as the honorable Senator from New Hampshire does. Finally, old man Bailey was walking out one day looking after his hogs at the edge of the swamp, and he saw Sam going along quietly with his gun on his shoulder. Presently Sam's rifle was fired. Bailey walked on to the cane-brake, as he knew he had a very fine hog there, and looking over he found Sam in the act of drawing out his knife to butcher it. Old man Bailey, slapping Sam on the shoulder, said, "I have caught you at last." "Caught thunder!" said Sam; "I will shoot all your blasted hogs that come biting at me in this way." "That is the way," Senator Jones went on to say, "that the Senator from New Hampshire gets out of his scrapes."
Mrs. Pierce came to the White House sorrow-stricken by the sad death of her only child, but she bravely determined not to let her private griefs prevent the customary entertainments. During the sessions of Congress there was a state dinner once a week, to which thirty-six guests were invited, and on other week-days half-a-dozen guests partook of the family dinner, at which no wine was served. There was also a morning and an evening reception every week in the season, at which Mrs. Pierce, dressed in deep mourning, received with the President.
The evening receptions, which were equivalent to the drawing-rooms of foreign courts, were looked forward to with great interest by strangers and the young people, taxing the busy fingers of mantua- makers, while anxious fathers reluctantly loosened their purse- strings. Carriages and camelias were thenceforth in demand; white kid gloves were kept on the store counters; and hair-dressers wished that, like the fabulous monster, they could each have a hundred hands capable of wielding the curling-tongs. When the evening arrived, hundreds of carriages might be seen hastening toward the spacious portico of the White House, under which they drove and sat down their freights. In Europe, it would have required at least a battalion of cavalry to have preserved order, but in Washington the coaches quietly fell into the file, and patiently awaited their turn. At the door, the ladies turned into the private dining-room, used as a dressing-room, from whence they soon emerged, nearly all of them in the full glory of evening toilet and radiant with smiles. Falling into line, the visitors passed into the parlors, where they were received by President Pierce and his wife. Between the President and the door stood District Marshal Hoover and one of his deputies, who inquired the name of each unknown person, and introduced each one successively to the President. The names of strangers were generally misunderstood, and they were re-baptized, to their annoyance, but President Pierce, with winning cordiality, shook hands with each one, and put them directly at ease, chatting pleasantly until some one else came along, when he introduced them to his wife.
Leaving the Presidential group and traversing the beautiful Green Drawing-room, the guests entered the famed East Room, which was filled with the talent, beauty, and fashion of the metropolis. Hundreds of either sex occupied the middle of the room or congregated around its walls, which enshrined a maelstrom of beauty, circling and ever changing, like the figures in a kaleidoscope. A prominent figure in these scenes was Edward Everett, cold-blooded and impassible, bright and lonely as the gilt weather-cock over the church in which he officiated ere he became a politician. John Van Buren—"Prince John"—he was called—was another notable, his conversation having the double charm of seeming to be thoroughly enjoyed by the speaker and at the same time to delight the hearer. General Scott, in full uniform, was the beau ideal of a military hero, and with him were other brave officers of the army and of the navy, each one having his history ashore or afloat.
The members of the Diplomatic Corps were marked by the crosses and ribbons which they wore at their buttonholes. Mr. Crampton, who represented Queen Victoria, was a noble specimen of the fine old English gentleman, personally popular, although he did not get along well with Secretary Marcy. The Count de Sartiges, who had recently married Miss Thorndike, of Boston, was an embodiment of French character, as Baron Von Geroldt was of the Prussian, and the little Kingdom of Belgium had its diplomatist in the august person of Monsieur Henri Bosch Spencer. Senor Don Calderon de la Barca, the Spanish Minister, was very popular, as was his gifted wife, so favorably known to American literature. As for the South American Republics, their representatives were generally well dressed and able to put a partner through a polka in a manner gratifying to her and to her anxious mamma.
Then there were the office-seekers, restless, anxious, yet confident of obtaining some place of profit; the office-holders, many of whom saw in passing events the handwriting on the wall which announced their dismissal; the verdant visitors who had come to Washington to see how the country was governed; and generally a score of Indians with gay leggings, scarlet blankets, pouches worked with porcupine quills, and the full glory of war paint. The Marine Band discoursed sweet music, but no refreshments were offered, so, many of the gentlemen, after having escorted the ladies to their homes, repaired to the restaurants, where canvas-back ducks, wild turkeys, and venison steaks were discussed, with a running fire of champagne corks and comments on the evening.