"'FELLOW-CITIZENS:—I am again called upon, by the voice of my country, to execute the functions of its chief magistrate. When the occasion proper for it shall arrive, I shall endeavor to express the high sense I entertain of this distinguished honor, and of the confidence which has been reposed in me by the people of United America.
"'Previous to the execution of any official act of the President, the constitution requires an oath of office. This oath I am now about to take, and in your presence; that, if it shall be found during my administration of the government, I have, in any instance, violated, willingly, or knowingly, the injunction thereof, I may (besides incurring constitutional punishment) be subject to the upbraidings of all who are now witnesses of the present solemn ceremony.'
"Judge Cushing then administered the oath of office required by the constitution, after which the President of the United States retired, and the spectators dispersed."
The record of the proceedings thus given by Mr. Benton gives but a very imperfect idea of the actual scene. Fortunately, an eye-witness, Arthur J. Stansbury, for twenty-five years a reporter of Congress, has given us a very lively and graphic description of the scene in his "Recollections and Anecdotes of the Presidents of the United States." {2}
We copy his description in full:
"But I once had," says Mr. Stansbury, "an opportunity far more favorable of beholding this greatest of men, under circumstances the best possible for exhibiting him to the fullest advantage. It was a privilege which could happen but once to any man, and I esteem the hour when I enjoyed it as one of the brightest moments I was ever permitted to know. Its remembrance yet glows vividly on my mind; years have not dimmed it; the whole scene is yet before me; and I need not say with what force repeated public occasions of a like kind have since recalled it to remembrance. Yes, it was my favored lot to see and hear President Washington address the Congress of the United States, when elected for the last time. Of men now living, how few can say the same!
"I was but a schoolboy at the time, and had followed one of the many groups of people who, from all quarters, were making their way to the hall in Chestnut street, at the corner of Fifth, where the two Houses of Congress then held their sittings, and where they were that day to be addressed by the President, on the opening of his second term of office. Boys can often manage to work their way through a crowd better than men can; at all events, it so happened that I succeeded in reaching the steps of the hall, from which elevation, looking in every direction, I could see nothing but human heads—a vast fluctuating sea, swaying to and fro, and filling every accessible place which commanded even a distant view of the building. They had congregated, not with the hope of getting into the hall, for that was physically impossible, but that they might see Washington. Many an anxious look was cast in the direction from which he was expected to come, till at length, true to the appointed hour (he was the most punctual of men), an agitation was observable on the outskirts of the crowd, which gradually opened and gave space for the approach of an elegant white coach, drawn by six superb white horses, having on its four sides beautiful designs of the four seasons, painted by Cipriani. It slowly made its way till it drew up immediately in front of the hall. The rush was now tremendous. But as the coach door opened, there issued from it two gentlemen, with long white wands, who, with some difficulty, parted the people, so as to open a passage from the carriage to the steps, on which the fortunate schoolboy had achieved a footing, and whence the whole proceeding could be distinctly seen. As the person of the President emerged from the carriage, a universal shout rent the air, and continued, as he very deliberately mounted the steps. On reaching the platform, he paused, looking back on the carriage, thus affording to the anxiety of the people the indulgence they desired, of feasting their eyes upon his person. Never did a more majestic personage present himself to the public gaze. He was within two feet of me; I could have touched his clothes; but I should as soon have thought of touching an electric battery. Boy as I was, I felt as in the presence of a Divinity. As he turned to enter the hall, the gentlemen with the white wands preceded him, and, with still greater difficulty than before, repressed the people, and cleared a way to the great staircase. As he ascended, I ascended with him, step by step, creeping close to the wall, and almost hidden by the skirts of his coat. Nobody looked at me; everybody was looking at him; and thus I was permitted, unnoticed, to glide along, and, happily, to make my way (where so many were vainly longing and struggling to enter) into the lobby of the chamber of the House of Representatives. Once in, I was safe; for had I even been seen by the officers in attendance, it would have been impossible to get me out again. I saw near me a large pyramidal stove, which, fortunately, had but little fire in it, and on which I forthwith clambered, until I had attained a secure perch, from which every part of the hall could be deliberately and distinctly surveyed. Depend upon it, I made use of my eyes.
"On either side of the broad aisle that was left vacant in the center were assembled the two houses of Congress. As the President entered, all rose, and remained standing till he had ascended the steps at the upper end of the chamber and taken his seat in the speaker's chair. It was an impressive moment. Notwithstanding that the spacious apartment, floor, lobby, galleries, and all approaches were crowded to their utmost capacity, not a sound was heard; the silence of expectation was unbroken and profound; every breath seemed suspended. He was dressed in a full suit of the richest black velvet; his lower limbs in short clothes with diamond knee buckles and black silk stockings. His shoes, which were brightly japanned, were surmounted with large square silver buckles. His hair, carefully displayed in the manner of the day, was richly powdered, and gathered behind into a black silk bag, on which was a bow of black ribbon. In his hand he carried a plain cocked hat, decorated with the American cockade. He wore by his side a light, slender dress-sword, in a green shagreen scabbard, with a richly ornamented hilt. His gait was deliberate, his manner solemn but self-possessed, and he presented, altogether, the most august human figure I had then or have since beheld.
"At the head of the Senate stood Thomas Jefferson, in a blue coat, single breasted, with large bright basket-buttons, his vest and small-clothes of crimson. I remember being struck with his animated countenance, of a brick-red hue, his bright eye and foxy hair, as well as by his tall, gaunt, ungainly form and square shoulders. A perfect contrast was presented by the pale reflective face and delicate figure of James Madison, and above all, by the short, burly, bustling form of General Knox, with ruddy cheek, prominent eye, and still more prominent proportions of another kind. In the semicircle which was formed behind the chair, and on either hand of the President, my boyish gaze was attracted by the splendid attire of the Chevalier d'Yrujo, the Spanish ambassador, then the only foreign minister near our infant government. His glittering star, his silk chapeau bras, edged with ostrich feathers, his foreign air and courtly bearing, contrasted strongly with those nobility of nature's forming who stood around him. It was a very fair representation of the old world and the new. How often has the same reflection occurred to me since, on witnessing the glittering and now numerous company of foreign dignitaries collected round our President by an inauguration day, or the recurrence of our national anniversary! True, the individuals who form that brilliant coterie are, for the most part, men eminent for general intelligence, as well as the virtues of private life—men who meet, and well deserve, a cordial welcome on our shores and often carry from it the sincerest regret. But how do the personal sentiments and characters of the men themselves put out the blaze of the gold and diamonds with which their governments had covered them! And if, even in the unadorned presence of his successors, these decorations seem puerile in Republican eyes, how would they have faded away and been lost in the chilling grandeur of the public presence of Washington!
"Having retained his seat for a few moments, while the members resumed their seats, the President rose, and, taking from his breast a roll of manuscript, proceeded to read his address. His voice was full and sonorous, deep and rich in its tones, free from that trumpet ring which it could assume amid the tumult of battle (and which is said to have been distinctly heard above all its roar), but sufficiently loud and clear to fill the chamber, and be heard, with perfect ease, in its most remote recesses. The address was of considerable length; its topics, of course, I forget, for I was too young to understand them; I only remember, in its latter part, some reference to the Wabash river (then a new name to my ear), and to claims or disputes on the part of the Indian tribes. He read, as he did everything else, with a singular serenity and composure, with manly ease and dignity, but without the smallest attempt at display.