Perley's reminiscences of sixty years in the national metropolis, v. 1-2

by Benjamin Perley Poore

The first session of the Forty-seventh Congress, which was commenced on the 5th of December, 1881, and prolonged until the 8th of August, 1882, found the Republicans again in the possession of the Federal Government. In the Senate, where the elephantine David Davis presided in his pleasant way, often disregarding parliamentary rules, there was a Republican majority of two, and in the House, which had elected as its Speaker that gallant, burly, impulsive son of Ohio, General J. Warren Keifer, there was a majority of ten. These small majorities made the game of legislation the more interesting, as every move had to be carefully studied before it was made. The proposed revision of the customs tariff and the Internal Revenue Tax Bill interested every member, as each had one or more pet industries belonging to favorite constituents, on which he wanted the high war taxes or duties retained, while he boldly advocated sweeping reductions on everything else.

President Arthur's appointments of Judge Folger to the Treasury Department, of Mr. Frelinghuysen to the State Department, of Mr. Brewster to the Department of Justice, and of Mr. Howe to the Post- Office Department were all predicted and expected, but no one looked for Mr. Conkling's appointment to the vacant place on the bench of the Supreme Court, as it was well known that he had only a few years previous refused the Chief Justiceship. The appointment gave Mr. Conkling's enemies an opportunity to talk about his theatrical, overbearing manner, but his appointment met general approbation; some, doubtless, feeling a relief that his political career would thus be ended. The Senate confirmed the nomination, but Mr. Conkling declined the honor thus tendered.

One of the first acts of the Forty-seventh Congress was the appointment of a joint committee of eight Senators and a Representative for every State, to whom was referred so much of the message of President Arthur as related to the decease of General Garfield, with instructions to report by what token of respect and affection Congress could express the deep grief of the nation. The Committee reported, condoling with the widow of the deceased, and providing for an oration on his life and character, to be pronounced before the two houses of Congress and the high officials of Government, by the Hon. James G. Blaine.

The scene in the Hall of the House of Representatives on the 27th of February, when the Garfield Memorial services were held, would have kindled the spark of oratorical fire in a less gifted man than Mr. Blaine. As he stood there at the Clerk's desk, looking over the great assemblage before him, his glance must first have fallen upon the calm features and dignified presence of the President of the United States, who was seated in the chair of honor, directly in front of his late Secretary of State. Then Mr. Blaine must have met the glance of his late associates in President Arthur's Cabinet —Folger, of impressive manner; Lincoln, to whom the proceedings of the day rekindled the saddest of recollections; Brewster, noticeable by the quaintness of his dress; Kirkwood, of plain, homely ways and dress, and the Creole-like Hunt. By the side of these Mr. Blaine saw his own successor in the Cabinet, Frelinghuysen and with him Postmaster-General Howe. A little to the left, resplendent in gilt trappings and buttons, sat General Sherman, with his weather-beaten and kindly face, and by his side plucky Phil. Sheridan, now gray and demure, and Hancock, of stately bearing. There, too were Admiral Porter and Rear-Admiral Worden of the navy, men of fame.

In another direction sat the Justices of the Supreme Court, clad in their flowing robes of office. States were there represented by their Governors, and their Senators, and their Representatives, throwing aside for the nonce the strife and partisanship incidental to legislative warfare, gave testimony by their respectful silence to the esteem in which they held the memory of the man, who, prior to the Chicago Convention, enjoyed the friendship of all his colleagues.

Still further back an area of sheen and color marked the position of the Diplomatic Corps, with its variety of costumes and decorations. Yet further back were Fred. Douglass, conspicuous from his long white hair and strong features, and General Schenck, with hale, firmly set face. The orator's glance must have noted the venerable historian Bancroft, himself the orator of the day like this when Lincoln's eulogy was pronounced, and by the side of Bancroft the philanthropist, Corcoran, and next him, and to the President's left, Cyrus W. Field. As Mr. Blaine's glance was raised to the galleries he must have been struck with the uniform sombreness of the appearance of the embanked multitude of ladies, whose dark attire was peculiarly appropriate, forming, as it did, a kind of mourning frame around the living picture which was presented on the floor. In the President's gallery the orator could see the refined lineaments of George William Curtis, or the English-like face of Henry James, Jr. Such were the salient features of the audience to whom Mr. Blaine was to speak of Garfield.

It looked to some who knew Mr. Blaine well as if he felt tempted to cast aside the pile of manuscript heavily bordered with black, which he placed before himself, and to speak as inspiration suggested, so long did he stand before that remarkable audience before beginning. To the audience the orator was second in interest only to the subject of the oration. Expectation was great respecting Mr. Blaine's treatment of the subject. He was the dead man's closest friend, and he was looked upon as the representative of one wing or division of a party within which was great bitterness. To separate his duty to the dead from due consideration for the living and balance the two was difficult, but he held the scales with such an even, steady hand, that neither the lovers of the dead President and his acts were disappointed or dissatisfied, nor the friends of the living President offended. He merely performed the duty assigned him in a simple, earnest, manly, truthful, conscientious, becoming manner.

Mr. Blaine was not the "plumed knight" of political debate, impetuous and enthusiastic, but he read page after page with patient enunciation, his resonant voice only faltering when for a moment it quivered with emotion as he described the boyish joy of General Garfield as he breathed the fresh morning air on the fatal day when he went forth to meet his doom. The personal pronoun did not once occur in the whole eulogy, and not one single allusion was made that could be thought of as referring to the speaker.

When Mr. Blaine had finished there was a reverential silence. President Arthur, who seemed to have been deeply impressed, made no movement to go. The immense audience was motionless. It was the most impressive moment of the day. At length there was a faint stir. Then President Arthur arose, and, with his Cabinet, silently left the great hall. The Supreme Court followed, and then the great assemblage quietly dissolved. The last public ceremonial over the death of Garfield was finished. It was just one year previous that he had quitted his home at Mentor to come to Washington and be inaugurated as President of the United States.

President Arthur wore mourning for his predecessor six months, dressing in black, using writing paper with a broad black border, declining all invitations to theatrical performances, and giving no state entertainments at the White House. At first he endeavored to bring about a millennium of political forces, but the "stalwart" lions refused to lie down with the "half-breed" lambs, and his honest attempts to secure a reconciliation only provoked the enmity of both factions. Before the burial of General Garfield a series of personal attacks was begun on his constitutional successor at the White House, which were industriously kept up. With a low cunning that generally concealed its malignancy, about once a fortnight some ingenious paragraph was started, ostensibly stating some fact connected with the Federal Government, but really stabbing at President Arthur. Unable to condemn his administration of national affairs, his enemies sought by innuendo and misrepresentation to render him ridiculous and neglectful of the public interest. But it so happened that President Arthur's Scotch-Irish character displayed itself in a practical utility never before known at the White House. His extensive knowledge of State politics was constantly called into requisition in making appointments, while in his messages to Congress he made statements and suggestions with a strenuous conviction of their truth, as he stood like a sturdy sentinel before the gates of the Constitution. He "made haste slowly" and he made but few blunders.