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

by Benjamin Perley Poore

The Chief Marshal of the procession having issued orders that no carriages should enter the Capitol grounds, the diplomats were forced to alight at a side gate in the rain, and to walk through the mud to the Senate entrance, damaging their feathered chapeaux and their embroidered uniforms, to their great displeasure. Conspicuous in the group around the President was Vice-President Dallas, tall, erect, and dignified, with long, snow-white hair falling over his shoulders. The President-elect read his inaugural, which few heard, and when he had concluded Chief Justice Taney administered the oath of office. As Mr. Polk reverentially kissed the Bible, the customary salutes boomed forth at the Navy Yard and at the Arsenal. The new President was then escorted to the White House, the rain having made Pennsylvania Avenue so slippery with mud that not a few of the soldiers fell ingloriously on the march.

The cry, "Who is James K. Polk?" raised by the Whigs when he was nominated, was unwarranted, for he was not an unknown man. He had been a member of the House from 1825 to 1839, Speaker from 1835 to 1837, and chairman of the Committee of Ways and Means during a portion of his membership. He had been a Jackson leader in the House, and as such he had manifested not only zeal and skill as a party manager, but also substantial qualities of a respectable order. It seems certain that Polk was selected by the Southern Democracy some time before the Convention met in 1844, and that he was heartily in sympathy with the movement for conquering a portion of Mexico to be made into slave States. Polk entered heartily into this business, and worked harmoniously with the instigators of conquest, except that he became self-willed when his vanity was touched.

President Polk was a spare man, of unpretending appearance and middle stature, with a rather small head, a full, angular brow, penetrating dark gray eyes, and a firm mouth. His hair, which he wore long and brushed back behind his ears, was touched with silver when he entered the White House and was gray when he left it. He was a worthy and well-qualified member of the fraternity of the Freemasons, and a believer in the creed of the Methodists, although, out of deference to the religious opinions of his wife, he attended worship with her at the First Presbyterian Church. Calm, cold, and intrepid in his moral character, he was ignorant of the beauty of moral uprightness in the conduct of public affairs, but was ambitious of power and successful in the pursuit of it. He was very methodical and remarkably industrious, always finding time to listen patiently to the stories of those who came to him as petitioners for patronage and place. But his arduous labors impaired his health and doubtless shortened his life. Before his term of office had half expired his friends were pained to witness his shortened and enfeebled step, and the air of languor and exhaustion which sat upon him.

There were two inauguration balls in honor of the new President's accession to power—one at ten dollars a ticket, and the other at two dollars. The ten-dollar ball was at Carusi's saloon, and was attended by the leaders of Washington society, the Diplomatic Corps, and many officers of the Army and Navy. Madame de Bodisco, wife of the Russian Minister, in a superb court dress, which she had worn while on her bridal visit to St. Petersburg, attracted much attention and contrasted strongly with Mrs. Polk, whose attire was very plain. The ball at the National Theatre was more democratic, and was attended by an immense crowd, whose fight for the supper was emblematical of the rush and scramble about to be made for the loaves and fishes of office. When the guests began to depart, it was found that the best hats, cloaks, and canes had been taken early in the evening, and there was great grumbling. Commodore Elliot had his pocket picked at the White House on inauguration day, the thief depriving him of his wallet, which contained several valued relics. One was a letter from General Jackson, congratulating him on his restoration to his position in the service, and containing a lock of "Old Hickory's" hair; another was a letter from Mrs. Madison, inclosing a lock of Mr. Madison's hair.

Mrs. Polk was a strict Presbyterian, and she shunned what she regarded as "the vanities of the world" whenever it was possible for her to do so. She did not possess the queenly grace of Mrs. Madison or the warm-hearted hospitality of Mrs. Tyler, but she presided over the White House with great dignity. She was of medium height and size, with very black hair, dark eyes and complexion, and formal yet graceful deportment. At the inauguration of her husband she wore a black silk dress, a long black velvet cloak with a deep cape, trimmed with fringe and tassels, and a purple velvet bonnet, trimmed with satin ribbon. Her usual style of dress was rich, but not showy.

Mrs. Polk would not permit dancing at the White House, but she did all in her power to render the Administration popular. One morning a lady found her reading. "I have many books presented to me by their writers," said she, "and I try to read them all; at present this is not possible; but this evening the author of this book dines with the President, and I could not be so unkind as to appeared wholly ignorant and unmindful of his gift." At one of her evening receptions a gentleman remarked, "Madame, you have a very genteel assemblage to-night." "Sir," replied Mrs. Polk, with perfect good humor, but very significantly, "I have never seen it otherwise."

Mr. James Buchanan, the newly appointed Secretary of State, was at this time in the prime of life, and his stalwart frame, fair complexion, light blue eyes, courtly manners, and scrupulously neat attire prompted an English visitor, Mrs. Maury, to say that he resembled a British nobleman of the past generation, when the grave and dignified bearing of men of power was regarded as an essential attribute of their office. Although a bachelor, he kept house on F Street next to the abode of John Quincy Adams, where his accomplished niece presided at his hospitable board. He faithfully carried out the foreign policy of President Polk, but never let pass an opportunity for advancing, with refreshing humility, his own claims to the succession. In a letter written to a friend he alluded to a prediction that he would be the next President, and went on to say: "I or any other man may disappear from the political arena without producing a ripple upon the surface of the deep and strong current which is sweeping the country to its destiny. Nothing has prevented me from removing myself from the list of future candidates for the Presidency, except the injury this might do to the Democratic cause in Pennsylvania. On this subject I am resolved, and whenever it may be proper I shall make known my resolution. Nothing on earth could induce me again to accept a Cabinet appointment." Yet never did a wily politician more industriously plot and plan to secure a nomination than Mr. Buchanan did, in his still-hunt for the Presidency.

William Learned Marcy, the Secretary of War, was the "wheel-horse" of President Polk's Cabinet. Heavily built, rather sluggish in his movements, and always absorbed with some subject, he was not what is generally termed "companionable," and neither bores nor office-seekers regarded him as an amiable man. He used to write his most important dispatches in the library of his own house. When thus engaged he would at once, after breakfast, begin his work and write till nearly noon, when he would go to the Department, receive calls, and attend to the regular routine duties of his position. During hours of composition he was so completely engrossed with the subject that persons might enter, go out, or talk in the same room without in the least obtaining his notice. He usually sat in his dressing-gown, with an old red handkerchief on the table before him, and one could judge of the relative activity of his mind by the frequency of his application to the snuff-box. In truth, he was an inveterate snuff-taker, and his immoderate consumption of that article appeared to have injuriously affected his voice.

President Polk, anxious to placate his defeated rival, Mr. Van Buren, tendered the appointment of Secretary of the Treasury to Silas Wright. He declined it, having been elected Governor of the State of New York, but recommended for the position Mr. A. C. Flagg. Governor Marcy objected to the appointment of Mr. Flagg, then to the appointment of Mr. George Bancroft, the historian, and finally accepted himself the place of Secretary of War. Mr. Robert J. Walker, a Pennsylvanian by birth and a Mississippian by adoption, who had in the United States Senate advocated the admission of Texas and opposed the protection of American industries by a high tariff, was made Secretary of the Treasury. Mr. George Bancroft was appointed Secretary of the Navy, and Cave Johnson, of Tennessee, Postmaster-General.

Mr. John Y. Mason, who had been the Secretary of the Navy in Tyler's Cabinet, was retained by Polk as his Attorney-General, having made earnest appeals that he might not be disturbed. He wrote to an influential friend at Washington that he desired to remain in office on account of his financial wants. "Imprudence amounting to infatuation," he went on to say, "while in Congress, embarrassed me, and I am barely recovering from it. The place is congenial to my feelings, and the salary will assist Virginia land and negroes in educating six daughters. Although I still own a large estate, and am perfectly temperate in my habits, I have felt that the folly of my conduct in another respect may have led to the report that I was a sot—an unfounded rumor, which originated with a Richmond paper." Governor Marcy used to joke Mr. Mason a good deal on the forwardness of the Old Dominion, the mother of Presidents, in urging the claims of her children for Federal office—a propensity which was amusingly illustrated at a private dinner where they were both in attendance. "How strange it is, Mason," said he, "that out of the thousands of fat appointments we have had to make, there is not one that Virginia does not furnish a candidate for, and that every candidate is backed up by the strongest testimonials that he was expressly educated for that particular post!" Mason bore the joke very well, contenting himself with the observation that the people of the United States seemed to know where to look for great men.