CHAPTER XXII. THE CAPITOL AND THE DRAWING-ROOM.
When the Twenty-seventh Congress met in December, 1841, it was evident that there could be no harmonious action between that body and the President, but he was not disposed to succumb. Writing to a friend, he said the coming session was "likely to prove as turbulent and fractious as any since the days of Adam. But [he added] I have a firm grip on the reins." In this he was mistaken, or, rather, he had been deceived by the sycophants around him. Neither House paid any attention to the recommendations which he made in his messages, and only a few of his nominations were confirmed. The Whigs, who had elected the President, repudiated all responsibility for his acts and treated him as a traitor, and the Democrats, while they accepted offices from him, generally spoke of him with contempt.
The Senate contained at that time many able men. Henry Clay was in the pride of his political power, but uneasy and restive as a caged lion. John C. Calhoun was in the full glory of his intellectual magnificence and purity of personal character. Preston's flexible voice and graceful gestures invested his eloquence with resistless effect over those whom it was intended to persuade, to encourage, or to control. Barrow, of Louisiana, the handsomest man in the Senate, spoke with great effect. Phelps, of Vermont, was a somewhat eccentric yet forcible debater. Silas Wright, Levi Woodbury, and Robert J. Walker were laboring for the restoration of the Democrats to power. Benton stood sturdily, like a gnarled oak-tree, defying all who offered to oppose him. Allen, whose loud voice had gained for him the appellation of "the Ohio gong," spoke with his usual vehemence. Franklin Pierce was demonstrating his devotion to the slave-power, while Rufus Choate poured forth his wealth of words in debate, his dark complexion corrugated by swollen veins, and his great, sorrowful eyes gazing earnestly at his listeners.
In the House of Representatives there were unusually brilliant and able men. John Quincy Adams, Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, was the recognized leader. Mr. Fillmore, of New York, a stalwart, pleasant-featured man, with a remarkably clear-toned voice, was Chairman of the Committee on Ways and Means. Henry A. Wise, Chairman of the Committee on Naval Affairs, was able to secure a large share of patronage for the Norfolk Navy Yard. George N. Briggs (afterward Governor of Massachusetts), who was an earnest advocate of temperance, was Chairman of the Postal Committee. Joshua R. Giddings, who was a sturdy opponent of slavery at that early day, was Chairman of the Committee on Claims. John P. Kennedy, of Maryland, an accomplished scholar and popular author, was Chairman of the Committee on Commerce; Edward Stanley, of North Carolina, was Chairman of the Committee on Military Affairs; Leverett Saltonstall, of the Committee on Manufactures; indeed, there was not a Committee of the House that did not have a first-class man as its chairman.
But the session soon became a scene of sectional strife. Mr. Adams, in offering his customary daily budget of petitions, presented one from several anti-slavery citizens of Haverhill, Massachusetts, praying for a dissolution of the Union, which raised a tempest. The Southern Representatives met that night, in caucus, and the next morning Mr. Marshall, of Kentucky, offered a series of resolutions deploring the presentation of the obnoxious petition and censuring Mr. Adams for having presented it. An excited and acrimonious debate, extending over several days, followed. The principal feature of this exciting scene was the venerable object of censure, then nearly four-score years of age, his limbs trembling with palsy, his bald head crimson with excitement, and tears dropping from his eyes, as he for four days stood defying the storm and hurling back defiantly the opprobrium with which his adversaries sought to stigmatize him. He was animated by the recollection that the slave-power had prevented the re-election of his father and of himself to the Presidential chair, and he poured forth the hoarded wrath of half a century. Lord Morpeth, who was then in Washington, and who occupied a seat in the floor of the House near Mr. Adams during the entire debate, said that "he put one in mind of a fine old game-cock, and occasionally showed great energy and power of sarcasm."
Mr. Wise became the prosecutor of Mr. Adams, and asserted that both he and his father were in alliance with Great Britain against the South. Mr. Adams replied with great severity, his shrill voice ringing through the hall. "Four or five years ago," said he, "there came to this house a man with his hands and face dripping with the blood of murder, the blotches of which are yet hanging upon him, and when it was proposed that he should be tried by this House for the crime I opposed it." After this allusion to the killing of Mr. Cilley in a duel, Mr. Adams proceeded to castigate Mr. Wise without mercy.
At the spring races, in 1842, over the Washington Course, Mr. Stanly, of North Carolina, accidentally rode so close to the horse of Mr. Wise as to jostle that gentleman, who gave him several blows with a cane. Mr. Stanly at once sent a friend to Mr. Wise with an invitation to meet him at Baltimore, that they might settle their difficulty, and then left for that city. Mr. Wise remained in Washington, where he was arrested the next day, under the anti- dueling law, and placed under bonds to keep the peace. Mr. Stanly remained at Baltimore for several days, expecting Mr. Wise. He was the guest of Mr. Reverdy Johnson, under whose instruction he practiced with dueling-pistols, firing at a mark. One morning Mr. Johnson took a pistol himself and fired it, but the ball rebounded and struck him in the left eye, completely destroying it. Mr. Stanly returned the next day to Washington, where mutual friends adjusted the difficulty between Mr. Wise and himself.
The vaulted arches of the old Supreme Court room in the basement of the Capitol (now the Law Library) used to echo in those days with the eloquence of Clay, Webster, Choate, Sargent, Binney, Atherton, Kennedy, Berrien, Crittenden, Phelps, and other able lawyers. Their Honors, the Justices, were rather a jovial sort, especially Judge Story, who used to assert that every man should laugh at least an hour during each day, and who had himself a great fund of humorous anecdotes. One of them, that he loved to tell, was of Jonathan Mason, of whom he always spoke in high praise. It set forth that at the trial of a Methodist preacher for the alleged murder of a young girl, the evidence was entirely circumstantial, and there was a wide difference of opinion concerning his guilt. One morning, just before the opening of the court, a brother preacher stepped up to Mason and said: "Sir, I had a dream last night, in which the angel Gabriel appeared and told me that the prisoner was not guilty." "Ah!" replied Mason, "have him subpoenaed immediately."
Charles Dickens first visited Washington in 1842. He was then a young man. The attentions showered upon the great progenitor of Dick Swiveller turned his head. The most prominent men in the country told him how they had ridden with him in the Markis of Granby, with old Weller on the box and Samivel on the dickey; how they had played cribbage with the Marchioness and quaffed the rosy with Dick Swiveller; how they had known honest Tim Linkwater and angelic Little Nell, ending with the welcome words of Sir John Falstaff, "D'ye think we didn't know ye? We knew ye as well as Him that made ye."
Mr. Webster gave a party on the night of January 26th, 1842, which was the crowning entertainment of the season. Eight rooms of his commodious house were thrown open to the guests, and were most dazzlingly lighted. There had not been in two Administrations so large and brilliant an assemblage of female beauty and political rank. Among the more distinguished guests were the President, Lord Morpeth, Mr. Fox, the British Minister, M. Bacourt, the French Minister, Mr. Bodisco, the Russian Minister, and most of the Diplomatic Corps attached to the several legations, besides several Judges of the Supreme Court and many members of Congress. The honorable Secretary received his numerous guests with that dignity and courtesy which was characteristic of him, and seemed to be in excellent spirits. There no dancing, not even music. There was, however, plenty of lively conversation, promenades, eating of ices, and sipping of rich wines, with the usual spice of flirtation.
President Tyler's last reception of the season of 1842, on the night of the 15th of March, gathered one of the greatest crowds ever assembled in the White House. There was every variety of the American citizen et citoyenne present—those of every form, shape, length, breadth, complexion, and dress. There were old ladies decked in the finery of their youthful days, and children in their nurses' arms. "Boz" was the lion of the evening, and he stood like Patience on a monument. He totally eclipsed Washington Irving, who was then at Washington to receive his instructions as Minister to Spain. The President's Cabinet, Foreign Ministers, some of the Judges of the Supreme Court, a sprinkling of Senators, two or three scores of Representatives, and fifteen hundred man, women, and children, in every costume, and from every nook and corner of the country, made up the remainder of the medley.
A children's fancy ball was given at the White House by President Tyler, in honor of the birthday of his eldest granddaughter. Dressed as a fairy, with gossamer wings, a diamond star on her forehead, and a silver wand, she received her guests. Prominent among the young people was the daughter of General Almonte, the Mexican Minister, arrayed as an Aztec Princess. Master Schermerhorn, of New York, was beautifully dressed as an Albanian boy, and Ada Cutts, as a flower-girl, gave promise of the intelligence and beauty which in later years led captive the "Little Giant" of the West. The boys and girls of Henry A. Wise were present, the youngest in the arms of its mother, and every State in the Union was represented.
After old Baron Bodisco's marriage to the young and beautiful Miss Williams, the Russian Legation at Georgetown became the scene of brilliant weekly entertainments, given, it was asserted, by especial direction of the Emperor Nicholas, who had a special allowance made for table-money. At these entertainments there was dancing, an excellent supper, and a room devoted to whist. Mr. Webster, Mr. Clay, General Scott, and several of the Diplomatic Corps were invariably to be seen handling "fifty-two pieces of printed pasteboard," while the old Baron, though not a good player, as the host of the evening, was accustomed to take a hand. One night he sat down to play with those better acquainted with the game, and he lost over a thousand dollars. At the supper-table he made the following announcement, in a sad tone: "Ladies and gentlemens: It is my disagreeable duty to make the announce that these receptions must have an end, and to declare them at an end for the present, because why? The fund for their expend, ladies and gentlemens, is exhaust, and they must discontinue."
Ole Bull, the renowned violinist, then gave a concert at Washington, which was largely and fashionably attended. In the midst of one of his most exquisite performances, while every breath was suspended, and every ear attentive to catch the sounds of his magical instrument, the silence was suddenly broken and the harmony harshly interrupted by the well-known voice of General Felix Grundy McConnell, a Representative from the Talladega district of Alabama, shouting, "None of your high-falutin, but give us Hail Columbia, and bear hard on the treble!" "Turn him out," was shouted from every part of the house, and the police force in attendance undertook to remove him from the hall. "Mac," as he was called, was not only one of the handsomest men in Congress, but one of the most athletic, and it was a difficult task for the policemen to overpower him, although they used their clubs. After he was carried from the hall, some of his Congressional friends interfered, and secured his release.
The publication of verbatim reports of the proceedings of Congress was systematically begun during Polk's Administration by John C. Rives, in the Congressional Globe, established a few years previously as an offshoot from the old Democratic organ. This unquestionably had a disastrous effect upon the eloquence of Congress, which no longer hung upon the accents of its leading members, and rarely read what appeared in the report of the debates. Imitating Demosthenes and Cicero, Chatham and Burke, Mirabeau and Lamartine, the Congressmen of the first fifty years of the Republic poured forth their breathing thoughts and burning words in polished and elegant language, and were listened to by their colleagues and by spectators so alive to the beauties of eloquence that they were entitled to the appellation of assemblages of trained critics. The publication of verbatim reports of the debates put an end to this, for Senators and Representatives addressed their respective constituents through the Congressional Globe.
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Felix Grundy
FELIX GRUNDY was born in Berkeley County, Virginia (now West
Virginia), September 11th, 1777; was a Representative from Tennessee,
1811-1814; was United States Senator, 1829-1838; was Attorney-
General under President Van Buren, 1838-1840; was again elected
Senator in 1840, and died at Nashville, December 19th of the same
year.