May 2nd.—This was indeed a busy day, in which were to be concentrated, we found, many incidents not included in the "programme." Early in the morning, that is, soon after breakfast, amidst much bustle and business carried on in the presence of many visitors—for we were obliged to make the most of our short stay in Washington—the Duke received a message from the Secretary of State, that the President of the United States would receive the party at the White House, and that Mr. Blaine—having courteously sent his son to act as our guide—would be in waiting to introduce them. And so about 10 o'clock we strolled out of the hotel and walked up the avenue which leads by the Treasury Buildings to the residence of the chief magistrate of the Great Republic. It is somewhat singular that books of travel do not deal a little more with the really fine city which Washington of late years has become—a capital worthy of so vast an empire. On our way we had occasion to admire the grand frontage of the National Buildings, which rise up close to the Presidential mansion, and which cause the rather homely proportions of the latter to come out in greater relief. There is an absence of state and of any pretence of it in the approaches to the White House; no sentries, not even a policeman on duty, and the only sign that it is not a private citizen's residence about it are the open door and the appearance of many persons passing unconcernedly in and out. A domestic in black received the party at the entrance hall, and ushered them into a waiting-room furnished in quiet and unobtrusive colours, without any pretension to much decoration; and soon afterwards Mr. Blaine made his appearance and led us into what is called the Blue Room, where we were engaged for some moments in conversation with him. We were reminded that the Executive Mansion was burned down by the British in 1814; but it was quickly rebuilt, and was occupied four years afterwards. It is not to be expected that with the modest appointments accorded to the Presidential office there should be any great display of pictures or of objects of art, but there were some exceedingly interesting Louis Quinze and Quatorze clocks and ameublements in the apartments, and Mr. Blaine gave us several interesting particulars respecting their acquisition, of which I have no memoranda. In fact, we were all too much occupied with the expectation of the entrance of the President to pay much attention to details. Presently our urbane guide left the room, and returned in a moment followed by Mr. Garfield.[5] "In appearance the President is striking, of erect, soldierly bearing, above the middle height—in fact, very nearly six feet high—with broad shoulders, and powerful, muscular, well-set frame. His head is large, with a fine frontal development; eyes bright and penetrating, of a mild and kindly expression; the mouth firm, and the jaw, as well as contour can be traced beneath the full rich brown beard shaded with grey, indicative of resolution and strength." In his manner the President was exceedingly affable—courteous and simple—without any of that ceremonious stiffness which is sometimes to be found amongst Americans in official life, and his greeting to the strangers was most kindly, as if he were welcoming friends whom he had known. He engaged the Duke in conversation for a short time, all of the party having been presented in turn, and then he addressed a few remarks to each of them, principally about travelling in the States and the difference that might be observed in the railway conveyances in this country and our own. It is a custom for an American, when you are introduced to him, to repeat your name, which strikes English people, but which, on reflection, I think is eminently utilitarian. For example Mr. Bickersteth is introduced. The President says: "Mr. Bickersteth, sir, I am happy to know you!" We all know what a melancholy jumble is frequently made of names in introductions; but the person whose name may be mispronounced has, on the American principle, an immediate opportunity of correcting any mistake, and of saying: "My name is not Bickerstaff, it is Bickersteth"; and so on, as the case may be. When I was presented to the President he said: "I think we have met before, long ago. You brought us, Mr. Russell, the worst news that ever could be heard by a people; but I do not suppose that you were much more pleased with it than we were," or words to that effect. I said: "I assure you, Mr. President, that no one was ever more unwilling than I was to take such a ride and to bring back such news. I would much rather have had a victory and a rest at the end of the day." "Well," he said, smiling, "we learnt our lesson, and I am sure that we were very much the better for all you told us, though we did not quite relish it at the time." As there were, at the Presidential hours of reception, many people waiting for their turn, the interview was a short one. These calls on the President must be a great, if a necessary tax upon his time. In the grand parlour, called the East Room, which is open from an early hour in the morning until three o'clock, there is generally a gathering of some sort or other, and the Blue, Red, and Green Rooms are also appropriated to the purposes of audience, the private rooms of the President and his family being of restricted number and size on the second floor. The day that we called there was a delegation of one-armed and one-legged veterans with a petition demanding that in Federal appointments preference should be given to discharged soldiers and sailors; and the President seems to have craftily met the requisition by declaring that he was heartily in sympathy with them; that he would, so far as he was concerned, see that preference should always be given to such disabled veterans, there being equal competency among the candidates, which, as the petitioners certainly had lost a leg or an arm each, might, cæteris paribus, be held as hard to be established. Then there were all kinds of senators, big and little (if there be such a thing as a little senator), newspaper editors, city delegates urging the promotion of particular men to different appointments, and mere idlers, who, having nothing else to do, turned in and wanted to have a talk with the President.
From the White House we were driven to the Capitol, which has undergone great improvement since the time of the War. A little more, however, remains to be done in the substitution of the real for the sham; but it would be difficult perhaps to effect that completely. The general effect of the building, which is exceedingly fine—though I doubt if it can be fairly said to be "the most magnificent public edifice in the world"—reminds one strongly of St. Peter's. It towers above all the city, and can be seen from an immense distance. The western front is perhaps the weakest portion of the building. In the decorations of the interior there is much to be desired; and I hope it is not offensive to say that the colossal statue of Washington on the Esplanade in front of the central portico strikes me as being pretentious rather than grand. There is a fine bronze door, cast at Munich, commemorating the discovery of America by Columbus; but the panels in the Rotunda, which have been painted by American artists, are surely not in the best style of American art. It is not remarkable, considering what the history of art is in England, that the best works about the Capitol should have been executed by foreigners, or at least by men with foreign names; but Crawford's statue of Liberty on the ball over the Capitol is worthy of praise, and is undoubtedly American. The Hall of Representatives is a fine apartment with very little ornamentation. There is a portrait of Washington, as a matter of course, and another of Lafayette, and there are two good pictures by Bierstadt in panels on the wall. At the time of our visit there was what they call "nothing" going on in the Senate Chamber. The senators, each at his little desk, were mostly engaged in writing notes or reading newspapers. In the chair sat Mr. Arthur, the Vice-President, a massive man in the prime of life, with a large round head and face, whose look gave one the impression that he might be a person of great common sense without any pronounced ability or character, his expression, perhaps, being that of benevolent sagacious repose. But there seemed to us a good deal going on, because a gentleman was engaged in denouncing in a highly excited manner some other gentleman for his conduct in reference to a proposition before the House, that had been occupying them for many days. "He has been perorating," said one of our friends, "for the last hour, and will go on for another hour, good. That is Dawes." I do not wish to be in the least disrespectful to Mr. Dawes, and I doubt not that if I had had the advantage of hearing him from the beginning, I should have been carried away by his argument, but under the circumstances his vehemence seemed uncalled for. At 1 o'clock we drove down to the Navy Yard and embarked on board the United States steamer "Despatch," a large party having been invited by Secretary Blaine to accompany the Duke for an excursion to Mount Vernon—the British Minister, Sir Edward Thornton, Lady Thornton, and his daughters; Mr. Victor Drummond, Mr. De Bunsen, and the members of the Legation; the representatives of France, Turkey, and Spain; Sherman, the General at the head of the army (looking as if he were quite ready to make another march into Georgia), his wife and daughter. General Sheridan, who had been summoned on business to Washington, and Colonel M. Sheridan were also of the party; and all the principal members, official and non-official, of Washington society, among whom must not be forgotten Mr. Corcoran, Mrs. Wadsworth, and Miss Eustis; the Attorney-General, Mr. MacVeagh, and many others. Nor must I omit my old friend and captor Admiral Porter, who took me in gentle fashion and carried me on board the "Powhattan," in 1861, as I was running the blockade of Pensecola from Mobile. The excellent band of the United States Marines received the Duke with the air of "Hail to the Chief"; and off Alexandria a salute of nineteen guns from the shore battery was repeated from the "Portsmouth" corvette, and the crew of the "Saratoga," lying close at hand, saluted as the "Despatch" steamed by. Awnings were spread from one end of the deck to the other, and, as the party found out, there was an excellent lunch prepared in the saloons below. The day was warm, the weather delightful, and the company included all that was distinguished and sociable in the society of Washington—foreign ministers, and attachés, and most of the gentlemen in office, many senators and a number of agreeable ladies. It had been bruited that there was considerable irritation in Washington society because the incoming powers, represented by their wives, had introduced new rules of etiquette with respect to calls and such like important duties of life; but certainly less pretentious leaders of fashion never were than those who were good enough to join the little expedition to Mount Vernon.
There is among the American officers of both services a camaraderie which is not always exhibited in our own. There may be official jealousies between the Secretary of State of the Navy and the Secretary of State of the Army, and the respective heads of these departments, though I am not aware that there are any; but I was struck by the terms of good-fellowship on which a man occupying the high position of General Sherman appeared to be with the young officers of the United States steamer on board which we were carried to the scene of our entertainment, and the latter had all the frankness and cordiality which the sea service somehow seems to inspire. They exhibited the action of the machine gun for the visitors, and I learned that the result of the experiments made by the Navy on the merits of various systems did not lead them to the conclusion at which our own people had arrived, and that the Nordenfeldt was not thought so well of by them as it is by us. Senator Burnside talked of his experiences at Versailles in the Franco-German war, where I encountered him engaged upon a mysterious philanthropic mission having relation, I believe, to the liberation of friends from Paris, and to the larger object of bringing about terms of peace between the belligerents—a kindly, large-minded man, to whom fortune was not favourable when he was summoned to command the armies of the Republic at a period when success would have made him unquestionably the foremost citizen and soldier of the United States. The same anomaly exists in the administration of the army as is found in England. The present Secretary of State for War, Mr. Lincoln, son of the President, is a very young man, and has no military experience. Nevertheless he has very considerable power, and while we were in the United States he thought nothing of summoning General McDowell from San Francisco or General Sheridan from Chicago to consult with them, which was complimentary, if rather troublesome; but he is said to be possessed of great business capacity and of sound common sense, and to take the advice of his military counsellors with facility.
It is about an hour by a quick steamer from the Navy Yard to Mount Vernon, and a little after 2 o'clock the steam launches, which were in waiting, were busily engaged in transferring the guests from the man-of-war to the landing-place below the wooded heights on which stands the American Mecca, Mount Vernon. The ascent to the house is rather sharp, and I presume it has been the object of the committee who have charge of the place to meddle with its natural features as little as possible. Mount Vernon House, familiar to so many thousands of Americans, remains as it was, so far as the lapse of time will permit it to do so, at the time of Washington's death. The wings to the centre of the house, which is built of wood, were contributed by him; and, but for the relics inside—the key of the Bastille presented by Lafayette to the President, and a few articles belonging to him—there would be little to see, unless the visitor is enabled to throw into the contemplation of the objects around him something of the admiration and hero-worship with which the name of "the Father of his Country—first in peace, first in war, and first in the affections of his people"—inspires the American.
The excellent band of the Marines was playing under the trees on the plateau, and the strains of "God Save the Queen" greeted the English visitors as they gained the portico. If the shadow of the departed hero could but have emerged from the tomb, close at hand, in which his remains repose, it would have been astonished perhaps at the change in costume, and in appearance, of the ladies and gentlemen, from that which had been familiar to Washington on earth. For the great citizen was by no means indifferent to the outward forms. Black silk stockings, knee-breeches, ruffles, and sword would in his mind have been the necessary attire and adjuncts of the heads of the army and navy, and of the ministers and others who were now walking about in pot-hats, morning jackets, and frock coats. As to the ladies, it is not too much to say that Mrs. Martha Washington would have probably disapproved of their pretty Parisian costumes so much that she would have sent out some of her black menials, whom we shall not call slaves, to request their removal from the premises. The ladies of America, however, have a right to claim position in Mount Vernon, for it was their "association" which raised the money with which the demesne and the house were purchased, in order to be handed over by them to the nation. Our own interest in the spot is derived from the English origin of the great man who lived there; and we are not altogether quite cut off from it even in name, because that is derived from the stout old Admiral Vernon, in remembrance of whom Laurence Washington, who fought under him against the Spaniards, named the place.
It was five o'clock ere we embarked on board the "Despatch" for the Navy Yard, after three hours of very pleasant pilgrimage and prattle at "the Mount," and we ran up the river to our destination in less than an hour, passing on our way the "Portsmouth" and "Saratoga," which saluted the steamer.
The Duke and some of the party dined with Mr. Blaine, the Secretary of State, where we met General Garfield. It is rare to meet the President at dinner in Washington, as it is not considered etiquette for him to dine out. To do honour to the occasion, the Duke wore his Garter star, and Sir Edward Thornton the riband of the Bath. The only other person who had any decoration was General Sherman, who wore a small badge at his button-hole. I believe that Congress authorised the wearing of distinctions conferred for military and naval services on the fortunate leaders of the Federal armies and fleets after the war.
The President's manner was singularly easy, natural, and frank. With his Secretary of State he appeared to be on terms of great friendship; and by the latter he is evidently regarded with admiration and affection. He was desirous of learning the impressions produced by his short visit on the mind of the Duke, rather than of leading the conversation; but farther on he became much interested in a discussion respecting recent English novelists. Mr. Black would have been gratified could he have heard the praise bestowed by General Garfield upon his descriptions of natural scenery, of the sea-coast, and of the islands of the West of Scotland, which, said he, "have filled me with a desire that I hope some day to be able to gratify—to visit the scenes he has described." And, having mentioned several writers, especially George Eliot, in reply to a remark that it was wonderful he could have found time to have read so many works of fiction, he said laughingly, "Well, I don't suppose I shall have much time now, or for some years to come; but I am glad to say I have not always been so busy;" and then he quoted a little bit of Horace, to which I think he is rather addicted, inasmuch as he certainly again popped in a quotation. Mrs. Garfield appeared to be an admirable President's wife—calm and simple, with unaffected manners and quiet dignity; and Mrs. Blaine was one of the most charming and lively of hostesses, so that our evening passed very agreeably. When the President and Mrs. Garfield retired, a few of the guests lingered on, listening to the interesting conversation of some gentlemen who remained for an hour longer and gave us many new views of American politics and life.
May 3rd.—We are going to Richmond to-day. In the first or original "programme" (a word which is spelt by Americans without the final "me," and, as it strikes me, correctly, if "telegram" be proper) the excursion on which the party started at 9 A.M. this morning was not included. However they were impressed with some of the reasons which were suggested for devoting one day to a Southern City which has especial claims to the consideration of Englishmen in the antecedents of the State of which it is the capital. At the outset of the war, the name became the watchword of the North, "On to Richmond!" was the cry. How it rung in one's ears in Washington that fervent summer of 1861! How it met the eye in broad type at the head of every leading article! It was as the "à Berlin!" of the Paris mob in 1870. For a time it seemed as though the answer might be given by the sound of the enemy's guns at Baltimore, Philadelphia or New York. From Washington to Richmond is only 116 miles. The road was barred for four years by the genius of Lee, the skill of his generals, and the fiery valour of the South. It would perhaps be ungenerous and unjust to say that the ineptitude of the North entered for something into the estimate of the causes which impeded the march of the Federal armies till Grant "whittled away" the life of his opponents. My friends had none of these recollection to distract their minds from the contemplation of the present.
And this is Washington? How strange it all seems to one like myself, whose latest memories of the city which has expanded into such placid beauty teem with vision of vast camps—the march of serried battalions—the roll of artillery—the circumstance and pride, without the pomp, of war—the passion and fury of civil strife—the agony of a nation—to see it now staid and stately and calm as some lake which rests in the embrace of the mountain shores after the subsidence of the storm! Down Pennsylvania Avenue I have seen in full flow a river of sparkling bayonet waves, and have heard the refrain of "John Brown's body lies mouldering in the grave" pealing from myriads of lips, where now the bourgeois 'bus rolls over the asphalte, and the greatest excitement is a pair of fast trotters behind the vehicle of some well-to-do legislator on his way to or from the Capitol. There was a special train at "the Depôt" at 10 o'clock A.M.—palace cars—our ever-obliging, smiling, active attendants—the usual official courtesies—giant bouquets on the tables, and all the luxury of the road which Presidents and directors' friends enjoy in the Republic of Railroads. The old Long Bridge over which I rode the night of Bull Bun, bringing the news of the defeat to Lord Lyons at the British Legation, has been removed, and the Baltimore and Potomac Railway is carried across the Potomac on a more recent structure rejoicing in the old name. How could I expect my companions to be much interested in "Alexandria," once so conspicuous in the history of the Civil War, when I found an American gentleman beside me quite ignorant of the fate of "Ellsworth," the protomartyr of the Union?