Many a head of a family, I think, was missed that evening from the tea tables, for although it was about the usual hour of that repast when I reached the hotel, the citizens came flocking in in great numbers, and filling the spacious audience room which the landlord had hastily prepared on hearing of my approach, to its utmost capacity, and even before I was fairly seated.
Most of them being still in the same dress in which they had attended the funeral ceremonies, the "customary suit of solemn black," they were about as well-looking a set of men as you will often see in country or city. A more excited and anxious group of faces, I am sure was never seen in a council of war on the eve of a great and decisive battle. Nor will I attempt to assert that I was wholly free from anxiety as to how I should acquit myself before this august assembly, as the representative and embodiment of the Government, on this trying occasion.
The scene, however, considered in reference to the real importance of the interests at stake, was richly ludicrous. I felt that the dignity of the Post-Office Department was for a time committed to my keeping, and I flatter myself that I succeeded admirably in sustaining it, though it required occasionally not a little effort.
One of the gentlemen whose acquaintance I had informally made in the rear of the funeral procession, did the honors in the way of introducing me to each of those who had assembled, and to such as came in in the course of that ever-to-be remembered evening—I should have said night, for it was not far from daylight, when I had listened to the last eloquent appeal in behalf of restoring to them their lost rights and privileges.
The whole thing was conducted in a way which, for parliamentary order and decorum, would have put to the blush the lower House of Congress near the close of the session; and I am not quite sure that the upper branch of that Honorable body, with an exciting subject in hand, could not have derived some useful hints from the manner in which business was there enacted.
The room, which I understand was soon after christened and is now known as "Restoration Hall," was about twenty-five feet by thirty, and for most of the time during this eventful meeting, I chanced to occupy the only rocking chair therein, at one side of the room facing the door. Considering that most of the company were my seniors by several years, that was hardly polite; but after several times insisting in vain that some one else should take the post of honor, I settled down without further misgivings.
Never did I so heartily regret my ignorance of the art of stenography as now; for a verbatim report of all that was here said, would prove the richest and most amusing part of this narrative.
After some general and desultory conversation, and considerable manœuvring as to who should lead off, the responsible task fell upon a somewhat venerable and prominent citizen, who, as I perceived from his "opening," had enjoyed the honor of representing the town in the lower House, as well as the Senate of the State. This gentleman's indignation was so intense at the "shabby treatment" of the Government, that at first he seemed to question the propriety of condescending to enter into any argument or formal statement in support of a speedy restoration of the post-office.
"I feel myself mortified and humbled," said he, "that anything more should be required in this case in securing us justice, than a mere glance at this assemblage, which, leaving out the speaker, cannot be surpassed in respectability and intelligence, by any which could be so readily convened in any community."
(A general sensation, and a modest assent all round, so far as looks could indicate it.)