In addition to his commanding presence, nature bestowed upon Mr. Sumner a clear and melodious voice, which rendered it quite unnecessary for him to resort to Demosthenic methods of cultivation. For many years his inspiring words could be heard upon the floor of the Senate in all of the leading debates of the day, and his masterly orations will go down to posterity as an important contribution to the history of many national administrations.
I well remember Preston S. Brooks's cowardly assault upon Charles Sumner in the Senate Chamber in the spring of 1856. Public indignation ran very high, and his political opponents referred to him thereafter as "Bully Brooks." Socially, as well as politically, he was popular. He possessed a gentle and pleasing bearing and it would have been difficult for anyone to associate him with such a cruel outrage. His uncle, Andrew P. Butler, who was in the U.S. Senate from South Carolina at the same time, was a fine-looking and venerable gentleman, but he was one of the class then designated as "fire-eaters."
There existed between Mr. Sumner and Henry W. Longfellow a strong friendship which was contracted in early life. I have often heard the Massachusetts statesman recite some of his friend's poetical lines, which seemed to me additionally beautiful when rendered in his deep and sonorous voice. In the latter years of his life he resided in the house which is now the Arlington Hotel Annex, where he surrounded himself with his remarkable collection of books and articles of virtu which he exhibited with pride to his guests. I especially recall an old clock presented to him by Henry Sanford, Minister to Belgium, as an artistic work of exceptional beauty. Mr. Sumner, by the way, was an accomplished connoisseur in art. I have heard him strongly denounce Clark Mills's equestrian statue of General Andrew Jackson, now standing in the center of Lafayette Square. He told me that on one occasion he was conducting a party of Englishmen through the streets of the National Capital and, as they were driving along Pennsylvania Avenue, he seated himself in such a position as to entirely obstruct the view of what he called this "grotesque statue," calling the attention of his guests, meanwhile, to the White House on the other side of the street.
I felt honored in calling Charles Sumner my friend, and I take especial pleasure in repeating the encomium that "to the wisdom of the statesman and the learning of the scholar he joined the consecration of a patriot, the honor of a knight and the sincerity of a Christian." George Sumner, his brother, did not appear in the land of his birth as a celebrity, but he had a remarkable career abroad. He hobnobbed with royalty throughout the European continent and was highly regarded for his profound learning. He studied at the Universities of Heidelberg and Berlin and traveled extensively through Europe, Asia and Africa. He never tarried long in his "native heath," and furnished conspicuous evidence that "a prophet is not without honor save in his own country." Alexander von Humboldt praised the accuracy of his researches and Alexis de Tocqueville referred to him as being better acquainted with European politics than any European with whom he was acquainted.
While Sumner was in the Senate, George T. Davis of Greenfield, Massachusetts, was a member of the House of Representatives. I knew him very well and he was a constant visitor at our home. He was celebrated for his flashes of wit, which sometimes stimulated undeveloped powers in others, and I have often seen dull perceptions considerably sharpened at his approach. Oliver Wendell Holmes speaks of his witty sayings in the "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," and his conversational powers were so brilliant that they won the admiration of Thackeray. Robert Rantoul, also from Massachusetts, and a colleague of Davis, was a "Webster Whig" and a powerful exponent of the "Free-Soil" faith. Davis, who was so bright and clever in the drawing-room, could not, however, compete with Rantoul on the floor of the House in parliamentary debate. The epitaph on Rantoul's monument says that "He died at his post in Congress, and his last words were a protest in the name of Democracy against the Fugitive-Slave Law." One of the verses of Whittier's poem, entitled "Rantoul," reads as follows:—
Through him we hoped to speak the word
Which wins the freedom of a land;
And lift, for human right, the sword
Which dropped from Hampden's dying hand.
I first met the eccentric Count Adam Gurowski at the convivial tea table of Miss Emily Harper in Newport, upon one of those balmy summer evenings so indelibly impressed upon my memory. He was, perhaps, in many respects, one of the most remarkable characters that Washington has ever known. He was a son of Count Ladislas Gurowski, an ardent admirer of Kosciusko, and was active in revolutionary projects in Poland in consequence of which he was condemned to death by the Russian authorities. He managed, however, to escape and in 1835 published a work entitled "La Verité sur la Russie," in which he advocated a union of the various branches of the Slavic race. This book was so favorably regarded in Russia that its author was recalled and employed in the civil service. He came to this country in 1849, and, after being employed on the staff of The New York Tribune, came to Washington, where his linguistic attainments and the aid of Charles Sumner secured for him a position as translator in the State Department, which he held from 1861 to 1863.
The Count was a medley of strange whims and idiosyncrasies that almost baffle description. Together with his strong individuality, he possessed a trait which made many enemies and ultimately proved his undoing. I refer to his uncontrollable desire to contradict and to antagonize. It was simply impossible to find a subject upon which he and anyone else could agree. There were, however, extenuating circumstances. "Chill penury," forced upon him by the state of his financial affairs, had much to do with his cynical and acrimonious spirit. Prosperity is certainly conducive to an amiable bearing, and I believe that Gurowski would have been more conciliatory if adversity had not so persistently attended his pathway. It is highly probable, too, that Gurowski would have retained his position under the government indefinitely but for his unfortunate disposition. He wrote a diary from 1861 to 1863 which he was so indiscreet as to keep in his desk in the State Department; and, unknown at first to him, some of its pages were brought to the attention of certain officials of the government. They contained anything but complimentary references to his chief, William H. Seward, Secretary of State, and he was discharged. Meanwhile he had antagonized his benefactor, Mr. Sumner, by opposing, in a caustic manner, his views in reference to the conduct of the Civil War, and by other similar indiscretions was making new enemies almost every day.
The intense bitterness and intemperance of Gurowski in the expression of his views is well illustrated in a conversation quoted by one of his friends in The Atlantic Monthly more than forty years ago. It had reference to a period preceding the Civil War when the "Fugitive-Slave Law" was engrossing the attention of the country. "What do I care for Mr. Webster," he said. "I can read the Constitution as well as Mr. Webster." "But surely, Count, you would not presume to dispute Mr. Webster's opinion on a question of constitutional law?" "And why not? I tell you I can read the Constitution as well as Mr. Webster, and I say that the 'Fugitive-Slave Law' is unconstitutional—is an outrage, and an imposition of which you will all soon be ashamed. It is a disgrace to your humanity and to your republicanism, and Mr. Webster should be hung for advocating it. He is a humbug or an ass—an ass, if he believes such an infamous law to be constitutional, and if he does not believe it, he is a humbug and a scoundrel for advocating it."
The Count's sarcastic reference to Secretary Seward is equally amusing. It seems that one of his duties, while in the State Department, was to keep a close watch upon the European newspapers for matters of interest to our government, and also to furnish the Secretary of State, when requested, with opinions on diplomatic questions, or, as Gurowski expressed it, "to read the German newspapers and keep Seward from making a fool of himself." The first duty, he said, was easy enough, but the latter was rather difficult!