v^^ ''^^ "'^^. V^' t, * -. s '^ ^ \^: c \. ^^^ ''^^ ,0 o^ NO \N .\V>' •3-' \V GEORGh WASHINGTON JOHN QUINCY ADAMS THOMAS JEFFERSON ANDREW JACKSON CAPITAL STORIES ABOUT FAMOUS AMERICANS A BUDGET OF TALES OF Love, Heroism and Adventure On Land and Sea EDITED BY REV. LOUIS ALBERT BANKS, D.D. Author of "The Hall of Fame," "Immortal Songs of Camp and Field," etc., etc. NEW YORK THE CHRISTIAN HERALD LOUIS KLOPSCH, Proprietor 91 to 115 Bible House ^v Q"^-' NOV !1 8-»'' 1 /30S93 I Copyright, 190s by Louik Klopsch The Christian Herald Press CONTENTS ADAMS. JOHN QUINCY The Farewell to Lafayette. . 13 An Illustration of Adams' Broadmindedness 15 Adams as a Conversation- alist 16 Adams' Bread-Crust 20 The Wonderful Vitality of the "Old Man Eloquent".. 21 Dying at His Post 23 ADDAMS, JANE "The Yellow Kid" 24 ALGER. RUSSELL A. ' The Top Price ior a Cow. . 25 Sharing Credit With His Wife 26 ARMOUR. PHILIP D. The Clerk Who Held His Own 27 AUDUBON, JOHN JAMES Life in an Osage Indian Camp 27 A Queer Fish 29 A Romantic Honeymoon ... 29 Audubon's Favorite Bird. ... 31 The Romance of a Runaway Slave 32 Audubon and The Eagle ... 35 The Turtler's Story 37 BACHELLER IRVING A Lame Excuse 42 BANGS. JOHN KENDRICK His Source of Supply 43 BARNUM. PHINEAS T. Rigid Economy 43 A Successful Advertiser 44 How He Got the Best of Clark 46 The Famous Doctor Valen- tine 48 Tom Thumb at Court 51 The General's Extra Train. . 54 The Welcome to Jenny Lind 55 A Legendary Bargain 57 BEECHER. HENRY WARD How He Captured Richmond 59 The Capture of Manchester. 62 BERGH. HENRY As Don Quixote 66 How He Obtained the Money to Start the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals 71 When the Joke was on Bergh 72 Taking the Cow's Part 74 No Personal Love for Ani- mals 76 Contents BEVERIDGE. ALBERT J. Under Suspicion 17 BICKERDYKE, MARY A. Mother Bickerdyke's Cure for Thieves 79 Searching the Battlefield at Midnight 80 "Authority from the Lord God Almighty" 80 Mother Bickerdyke's Night- gowns 81 Mother Bickerdyke at a Wedding 83 The Soldier's Bucket of Eggs 87 How She Pacified the Doc- tor 88 Outranking Sherman 89 Mother Bickerdyke's Sermon to the Landlord 90 Getting the Best of Sherman 91 The Old Soldier's Friends. 92 BLACKBURN. JOSEPH C. S. Lockjaw His Only Danger. 93 BLAINE, JAMES G. Helping Out Memory 94 BOOTH, EDWIN A Prince of "Dead-Heads". 95 BRYAN. WILLIAM J. The Greatest Word 96 BURR. AARON The Magnetism of Aaron Burr 97 BURROUGHS, JOHN The Beginnings of a Natu- ralist 98 BUTLER. BENJAMIN F. "The Late Unpleasantness". 100 CANNON, JOSEPH G. How "Uncle Jo" Lost the Senatorship loi A Deal in Overcoats 102 How "Uncle Jo" Broke with the Quakers 104 Used to Criticism 105 CARNEGIE. ANDREW The Turtle Who Won the Race 105 Mr. Carnegie Was Busy with Africa 106 Carnegie at the Foot of the Ladder 107 An Honest Answer 109 CHILDS. GEORGE W. How He Bought the "Public Ledger" 109 CHOATE. JOSEPH W. "These Gentlemen Are Vam- pires" no A Hint to the Judge in His Second Choice in "A Little Lower than the Angels" 112 CHOATE. RUFUS Turning Rebuke to Laughter. 1 12 A Midnight Journey 113 The Turkey Case 113 "A Little Paternal Stretch- ing" IIS Charmed by the Music of His Voice 115 Lawyer's Vacation 116 Rufus Choate's Boldness as a Lawyer 116 Childlike in Money Matters. 117 Establishing a Precedent. . . .117 An Effective Apology 1 18 Contents Too High a Compliment. . . .118 Delicious Irony 119 A Droll Argument 120 CHURCHILL, WINSTON Light on the Literary Life.120 CODY, WILUAM F. Good Security 121 "Buffalo Bill" in Paris 122 Adventure with a Highway- man 124 Too Quick for the Indian.. 125 A Stage Driver's Experience. 126 How He Came to be "Buf- falo Bill" 129 A Buffalo in Camp 131 COLLYER, ROBERT The Irishman Had His Doubts 132 CORTELYOU, GEORGE B. The Twentieth Century Prodigal 133 CUSTER. GEORGE A. A Friendly Word 134 DAVIS, HENRY G. He Knew Things 137 DEPEW. CHAUNCEY M. The First Speaker Had Said Enough 137 Depew's Subtle Argument. .138 How Piatt Stopped the Train. 139 DEWEY. GEORGE The Capture of Dewey 139 When Dewey Went A-Fish- ing With Joseph Jefferson. 140 The Story of the Battle of Manila 141 Dashing Ahead in Spite of Torpedoes 142^ Showers of Fragments 144 Stopping the Battle for Breakfast 145 EDISON, THOMAS A. His First Check 147 ELIOT, CHARLES WILLIAM An Extended Chair 148 The President's Generosity. 148 A New President 149 EMMETT. DAN The Story of "Dixie" 150 EVANS, ROBLEY D. "Fighting Bob's Story" 155 Ship Crowded to Utmost Speed 156 The Spanish Ships on Fire. 157 Superb Examples of Hero- ism 15^ FIELD. EUGENE "On the Contrary" i6a FAIRBANKS, CHARLES W. A Harmless Beverage 160 FISK. CLINTON B. "Papa, Why Don't You Pray?" i6r "It Had to Be Done Then". 162 Fisk's Army Tactics 164 "Nigger Equality" 165 FOLK, JOSEPH WINGATE A Story of Beginnings 166 When Made Circuit Attor- ney He Surprised the Ma- chine 168 Contents FORD. SIMEON The Autobiography of an After-Dinner Speaker 171 Anticipation of a Speech Frequently Spoils a Din- ner 171 One May Make a Good Speech and No One Will Smile 173 Don't Blame a Bore: You'll Be Glad When He Stops. 174 The Wise World Likes to Weep as Well as to Laugh 175 The Guests Always Applaud the Creator of Laughter. .176 FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN A Lesson in Time Value... 178 Hunting for an Excuse 179 Water Drinker 180 Franklin's Wonderful Kite. 181 FULTON, ROBERT The Sailing of the First Steamboat 182 FUNSTON, FREDERICK How He Won Honors 184 GAGE. LYMAN J. A Congressman Who Was Hard of Hearing 189 GOUGH, JOHN B. The Tap on the Shoulder. .191 A Battle for Life 193 The Transformationof "Hell- Fire" 197 Embarrassing Gratitude 199 The Kindness of the Scotch Lassies 201 GOULD, HELEN MILLER At Montauk Point 201 The Finest Sailors' Club in the World 202 GRANT, ULYSSES S. A New Horse 206 Lack of Butter Gave Him a Start 207 Grant at Lookout Mountain. 208 Grant's Pony 211 Who Stole the Honey 212 A Kind Heart 213 No Use for Speculators 214 A Close Call 214 "A Very Obstinate Man".. 215 "The Grip of a Bulldog". . .215 "Not a Retreating Man" 215 Jackson's Disappointment. . .216 GREELY ADOLPHUS W. Snatched from Death 218 GREELEY. HORACE His Apprenticeship 219 The Physician's Story 226 Poe's Autograph 228 Experiences in a Paris Jail. 228 His Idea of How He Came to be Defeated for the Presidency 239 HANNA. MARK A. Magnetic Eloquence 240 HARRIS. JOEL CHANDLER Good for the Blues 241 Afraid of the Public 241 The Man He Had Been Waiting for 242 HARTE, BRET His First Book 243 Contents HAY, JOHN Dried Grass 245 Lincoln and Hay 246 How He Came to be a Jour- nalist 248 HEARST, WILLIAM RANDOLPH How He Came to be an Edi- tor 249 HENRY. PATRICK The People Against the Par- sons 250 The Cry of Treason 254 The Witchery of Eloquence.255 Henry's Comic Power 256 HOAR. GEORGE FRISBIE Why He Liked Salem 259 HOBSON, RICHMOND P. The Sinking of the Merri- mac 260 Ready to Meet Death 262 Had an Ovation on Their Return •. . . 263 Collier Almost Rent Asun- der 264 Tide Drifted Her Around.. 265 Captured by Cevera 267 HOLMES, BURTON "Canned White Man" 267 HOLMES, OLIVER WENDELL His Lecture Experiences.. . .268 How Mark Twain Plagia- rized Holmes 270 It Was Worth While 273 At the Sunset 27Z HOUSTON. SAM The Battle Which Won Texas 275 HOWARD. OLIVER O. The Empty Sleeve 279 Afraid of His Prayers 281 Under Fire 281 At Sherman's Side 282 A Helping Hand 283 Conquering a Saloon-Keeper.285 The Spokane Chief 285 HOWE, JUUA WARD The Birth of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". .286 JACKSON, ANDREW His Meeting with John Quincy Adams 292 The Death of Jackson's Wife 293 Jackson's Mourning for His Lost Love 296 A Lonely President 298 How a Politician Got the Best of Jackson 299 Jackson's Lesson to a For- eign Diplomat 301 A Politician's Experience. . .305 Pulling a President's Nose. 307 Unselfish Friendship 309 JACKSON, "STONEWALL" A Night Ride 310 Why Jackson Did not Drink.312 Jackoon Under Fire 313 JEFFERSON, JOSEPH The Girl Who Sent Him Home 313 A Sheriff Who Knew His Business 315 The Old Man's Monologue. 316 When Jefferson Was Ar- rested 316 Contents The Spell Coming on Again.317 "Dat's the Man" 318 JEFFERSON, THOMAS His Love Story 319 Story of the Declaration of Independence 322 Jeflfersonian Simplicity 327 JOHNSON. TOM L. From Newsboy to Mayor.. 329 JONES. JOHN PAUL A Memorable Sea Fight 331 KELLER. HELEN Feeling for the Light 338 A Lesson in Tree Climbing. 343 The Dawn of Love 345 The Joy of Speech 347 Friendship with Bishop Brooks and Dr. Holmes.. 347 KEY. FRANCIS SCOTT The Story of the Star- Span- gled Banner 349 KNOX. PHILANDER C. The Trust That Was Too Much for Him 355 A Vivid Contrast 356 LAWSON. THOMAS W. Encounter With a Wind Clock 356 LEE. FITZHUGH A Sad Mistake 359 LEE. ROBERT E. Duty Rather than Wealth . . 360 Lee's Bottle of Whiskey. . .361 General Lee's Treat 362 A Shrewd Rebuke 362 LINCOLN. ABRAHAM A Romance of the Civil War ...363 Lincoln Securing a Pension. 370 One of Lincoln's Pardons.. 372 The Girl Who Didn't Wear Hoops 375 Why the Lord Made so Many 376 Lincoln's Prescription yj"] "Browsing Around for Something to Eat" 377 Lincoln's First Great Sor- row yJ^ LIVERMORE, MARY A. With a Dying Soldier 379 LONG, JOHN D. Seeking for a Place 384 MACKAY. JOHN W. A Romance of a Mining Camp 38s MCCLELLAN. GEORGE B. When He Interviewed Mor- gan 389 Office Seekers at Bay 390 ' MCKINLEY. WILLIAM His First Case 391 , A Witness with a Crooked 1 Leg 392 I Loyalty to His Friend 392 ' Loyalty to Old Comrades. .394 ; A Midnight Interview 395 How Sergeant McKinley Won His Lieutenancy. . . .396 MILES. NELSON A. The Story of a Picture 397 ^ One of the Army of Chil- 1 dren 399 Conte;nts MILLER, JOAQUIN Stories of the Poet of the Sierras 400 An Ideal Hospitality 402 MORGAN, JOHN PIERPONT As An Art Gatherer 403 jMorgan and the Reporter. .405 MORSE, SAMUEL F. B. His Visit to Benjamin West.405 An Interesting Student Ex- perience 406 Morse's Day of Poverty. . . .410 The Dark Hour Before Day.411 The Maid Who Wanted to be Sent by Telegraph 412 NYE. BILL Beating the Wizard at His Own Game 413 OSLER. WILLIAM Taking a Prescription Lit- erally 415 PARKER, ALTON BROOKS Red-Haired Presidents 415 The Judge was Forgiving. .416 PEARY. ROBERT E. How He Became an Arctic Explorer 417 A Story of Arctic Heroism. 420 , A Wife's Devoted Heroism. 422 His Wife's Courage Nerved Him to Further Action... 423 Her Enthusiastic Zeal Started the Arctic Club 424 She Was Left Alone in Com- j mand of the Windward. .428 PHILLIPS. WENDELL A Reformer's Birth 430 How He Found His Wife. .431 An Exciting Experience of - the Lecture Platform 431 Phillips in Tremont Temple. 433 Wendell Phillips and Jeffer- son Davis' Niece 435 PLATT. THOMAS C. "Kept Quiet and ^Made Pills". 436 The Principle of Protection. 437 POCAHONTAS How She Saved Captain John Smith 438 A Friendly Deed 440 The Capture of Pocahontas. 440 The Romantic Marriage of Pocahontas 441 Pocahontas at the English Court 444 Pocahontas' Last Interview with Captain John Smith. 446 QUINCY, JOSIAH A Noble Tribute to a Mother.447 A Hasty and Happy Court- ship 448 A Politician's Trick 448 A Specimen of Revolution- ary Wit 449 Lafayette and Mrs. Hancock.449 REED. THOMAS BRACKETT A Souvenir Hunter 450 The Secret of Happiness. . .451 One Way to Make a Friend.452 ROCKEFELLER. JOHN D. His First Ledger 453 ROOSEVELT. THEODORE The President's Audience. .455 Roosevelt as a Policeman. .456 Contents A Prophecy Fulfilled 456 How Roosevelt Tamed "Me- dora Jim" 457 The Colonel's Beef-Stew. ..458 Had "Real Onions" in it. ..459 ROOT, EUHU No Jurisdiction Over Creeks.461 SCHLEY, WINFIELD SCOTT The Destruction of Cervera's Fleet 461 A Battle Relic for Admiral Schley 465 SHERIDAN, PHILIP HENRY How He Came to be Colonel.466 STEPHENS, ALEXANDER H. A Speech That Made a Rep- utation 470 STOWE, HARRIET BEECHER Genius Budding Under Dif- ficulties 472 The Birth of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" 473 Rejected by Publishers 479 The Clouds Followed by Sunshine 480 SUMNER, CHARLES No Woman Need Apply. ...482 TALMAGE, T. DE WITT Emancipation from Manu- script 483 TWAIN. MARK His Good Turn to General Grant 486 VREELAND, HERBERT H. The Evolution of a Railroad Man 491 WALLACE, LEW A Rude Awakening 497 WANAMAKER. JOHN Success as a Merchant 499 A Memory of Alexander T. Stewart 500 WARD. ARTEMUS The Story of a Lecture. .. .501 WASHINGTON. GEORGE His Modesty 504 Braddock's Defeat 505 An Ideal Husband 508 The First Inauguration 510 Major Andre and His Cap- ture 511 Tragic Story of Andre's Ex- ecution 513 WASHINGTON. BOOKER T. Picture of a Slave Boy's Childhood 515 Naming Himself 517 On His Way to College 518 A Queer College Examina- tion 519 A Great Oratorical Victory. 521 An Inspiring Occasion 523 WEBSTER. DANIEL A Narrow Escape 526 Webster's Fascinating Pow- er Over the Public 527 Daniel Webster's First Love.528 WHEELER. JOSEPH How the Trenches Were Dug 532 WHITTIER, JOHN GREENLEAF The Beginnings of a Poet.. 534 Contents Whittier's Courage 536 iP^lLLARD, EMMA The Hostess of Lafayette. .537 WILLARD, FRANCES E. Teaching College Boys 539 Winning a Car Full of Men.540 A Hint at a Love Story 542 ILLUSTRATIONS Adams, John Quincy Frontispiece Addams, Jane 221 Alger, Russell A 271 Audubon, John James 67 Bacheller, Irving 407 Bangs, John Kendrick 425 Barnum, Phineas T 203 Beecher, Henry Ward 203 Bergh, Henry 153 Blaine, James G 135 Booth, Edwin 425 Bryan, William J 407 Burr, Aaron 67 Burroughs, John 203 Butler, Benjamin F 153 Cannon, Joseph G 135 Carnegie, Andrew 135 Childs, George W 289 Choate, Joseph W 289 Cody, William F 339 Cortelyou, George B 407 Custer, George A 85 Davis, Henry G 407 Depew, Chauncey M 289 Edison, Thomas A 493 Eliot, Charles William 203 Evans, Robley D 357 Field, Eugene 425 Fairbanks, Charles Warren 271 FisK, Clinton B 203 Folk, Joseph Wingate 407 Ford, Simeon 475 Franklin, Benjamin 67 Fulton, Robert 493 Funston, Frederick 339 Gage, Lyman G 271 GouGH, John B 203 Grant, Ulysses S 17 Greeley, Horace 153 Hanna, Mark 289 Harte, Bret 475 Hay, John 271 Henry, Patrick 67 Holmes, Oliver Wendell... 153 Howard, Oliver O 357 Howe, Julia Ward 221 Jackson, Andrew .... Frontispiece Jackson, "Stonewall" 85 Jefferson, Joseph 425 Jefferson, Thomas. .Frontispiece Jones, John Paul 67 Lee, Fitzhugh 357 Lee, Robert E 85 Lincoln, Abraham 17 Livermore. Mary A 221 Long, John D 271 McClellan, George B 153 McKinley, William 17 Miles, Nelson A 357 Miller, Joaquin 42S Morgan, John Pierpont 493 10 Illustrations Morse, Samuel F. B 493 Nye, Bill 475 Parker, Alton Brooks 407 Peary, Robert E 339 Platt, Thomas C 493 Reed, Thomas Brackett 289 Roosevelt, Theodore 17 Root, Elihu 135 Schley, Winfield Scott.... 357 Sheridan, Philip Henry.... 85 Stephens, Alexander H. . . . 85 Stowe, Harriet Beecher. . . . 221 Sumner, Charles 135 Talmage, T. DeWitt 203 Twain, Mark 475 Wallace, Lew 339 Ward, Artemas 475 Washington, GEORGE.Frontispiece Webster, Daniel 67 Wheeler, Joseph 339 Whittier, John Greenleaf. 153 Willard, Frances E 221 AUTHOR'S PREFACE BIOGRAPHY, where the real personality is revealed, is ever the most entertaining and instructive of all literature. This is a book of biography at magnetic points. It is full of the w^arm, red blood of very live men and women. It has been the purpose of the author to gather in this volume such stories of love, heroism, and adventurous daring, together with lighter incident, as would make the personalities of the people discussed, alive and real to the reader. More than half of those whose names are disclosed in this table of contents are yet living among us, and the rest still live in these stories of a vital personal career which make them immortal. The author has not attempted, in compiling this volume, to make it exhaustive. Another volume might be made like it, with different names, and another, and another, so rich is American history and American life in strong and vigorous and heroic personality. But he has sought to give the reader II a rich mine of striking, virile stories of picturesque interest and variety, into which it would always be a pleasure to delve, either for entertainment, or to find golden nuggets for use. Whatever may be the judgment of the readers as to the wisdom of the selections, in the midst of such embarrassment of resources, the author feels that the book will at least have one great merit — it will be interesting, and no one will be able to spend an hour with it without his wits being brightened, and his heart stirred by communion with genuine and attractive people. Louis Albert Banks. New York City. 12 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS THE FAREWELL TO LAFAYETTE NE of the most picturesque and brilliant incidents in the life of John Quincy Adams is furnished in the story of his farewell to Lafayette at the close of the great Frenchman's final visit to America dur- ing the administration of Mr. Adams as President of the United States. After an extended visit, the 7th of September, 1825, was appointed for the leave-taking of the dis- tinguished visitor. About twelve o'clock, the officers of the general Government, civil, military, and naval, together with the authorities of Washington, Georgetown, and Alexan- dria, with multitudes of citizens and strangers, assembled in the President's house. Lafayette entered the great hall in silence, leaning on the Marshal of the District and one of the sons of the President. Mr. Adams then, with evident emotion, but with much dignity and firmness, addressed Lafayette with great eloquence and at some length, his speech closing with these words : "At the painful moment of parting from you, we take comfort in the thought, that wherever you may be, to the last pulsation of your heart, our country will ever be present to your affections ; and a cheering consolation assures us that we are not called to sorrow, most of all, that we shall see your face no more. We shall indulge the pleasing anticipation of beholding our friend again. In the meantime, speaking in the 14 Capital Stories About Famous Americans name of the whole people of the United States, and at a loss only for language to give utterance to that feeling of attach- ment with which the heart of the nation beats, as beats the heart of one man — I bid you a reluctant and affectionate farewell !" Lafayette replied with a happy speech, very tender and sympathetic. At the close he burst out with this exclamation : "God bless you, sir, and all who surround us. God bless \he American people, each of their States, and the Federal Government. Accept this patriotic farewell of an overflowing heart. Such will be its last throb when it ceases to beat." As the last sentence of the farewell was pronounced Lafay- ette advanced and took President Adams in his arms, while tears poured down his venerable cheeks. Retiring a few paces, he was overcome by his feelings, and again returned, and, fall- ing on the neck of Mr. Adams, exclaimed in broken accents, "God bless you!" It was a scene at once solemn and moving, as the sighs and tears of many who witnessed it bore testi- mony. Having recovered his self-possession, the General stretched out his hands, and was in a moment surrounded by the greetings of the whole assembly, who pressed upon him, each eager to seize, perhaps for the last time, that beloved hand which was opened so freely for our aid when aid was so precious, and which grasped with firm and undeviating hold the steel which so bravely helped to achieve our deliverance. The expression which now beamed from the face of this exalted man was of the finest and most touching kind. The hero was lost in the father and the friend. Dignity melted into subdued affection, and the friend of Washington seemed to linger with a mournful delight among the sons of his adopted country. A considerable period was then occupied in conversing with various individuals, while refreshments were presented to the company. The moment of departure at length arrived; and John Quincy Adams 15 having once more pressed the hand of Mr. Adams, he entered the barouche, accompanied by the Secretaries of State, of the Treasury, and of the Navy, and passed from the capital of the Union. An immense procession accompanied him to the banks of the Potomac, where the steamboat Mount Vernon awaited to convey him down the river to the frigate Brandy- wine. The whole scene — the peals of artillery, the sounds of numerous military bands, the presence of the vast concourse of people, and the occasion that assembled them, produced emotions not easily described, but which every American heart can readily conceive. As the steamboat moved oflf, the deepest silence was observed by the whole multitude that lined the shore. The feelings that pervaded them was that of children bidding farewell to a venerated parent. When the boat came opposite the tomb of Washington, at Mount Vernon, it paused in its progress. Lafayette arose. The wonders which he had performed, for a man for his age, in successfully accomplishing labors enough to have tested his meridian vigor, whose animation rather resembled the spring than the winter of life, now seemed unequal to the task he was about to perform. He advanced to the effort. A silence the most impressive reigned around, till the strains of sweet and plaintive music completed the grandeur and sacred solemnity of the scene. All hearts beat in unison with the throbbings of the veteran's bosom, as he looked, for the last time, on the sepulchre which contained the ashes of the first of men! AN ILLUSTRATION OF ADAMS* BROADMINDEDNESS Mr. King, in his eulogy of John Quincy Adams, says : "It was in my hearing that, to a representation that a certain important and influential functionary of the General Government in New York was using the power of his ofhce adversely to Mr. Adams' re-election, and that he ought to 1 6 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans desist or be removed, Mr. Adams made his reply: 'That gentleman is one of the best officers in the public service. I have had occasion to know his diligence, exactness, and punc- tuality. On public grounds, therefore, there is no cause of complaint against him, and upon no other will I remove him. If I cannot administer the Government on these principles, I am content to go back to Ouincy!' Being in Baltimore on a certain occasion, among those introduced to him was a gentleman who accosted him thus — 'Mr. President, though I differ from you in opinion, I am glad to find you in good health.' The President gave him a hearty shake of the hand, and replied, — 'Sir, in our happy and free country, we can differ in opinion without being enemies.' " ADAMS AS A CONVERSATIONAUST A Southern gentleman who visited Adams at his home in Quincy, Massachusetts, in 1834, some years after his retire- ment from the Presidency, gives a bright account of the versa- tility of his genius, the profoundness of his erudition, and his remarkable quality as a conversationalist. "Yesterday, accompanied by my friend T., I paid a visit to the venerable ex-President, at his residence in Quincy. A violent rain setting in as soon as we arrived, gave us from five to nine o'clock to listen to the learning of this man of books. His residence is a plain, very plain one; the room into which we were ushered (the drawing-room, I suppose), was furnished in true republican style. It is probably of ancient construction, as I perceived two beams projecting from the low ceiling, in the manner of the beams in a ship's cabin. Prints commemorative of political events, and the old family portraits, hung about the room ; common straw matting cov- ered the floor, and two candlesticks, bearing sperm candles, ornamented the mantel-piece. The personal appearance of the ex-President himself corresponds with the simplicity of his ABRAHAM LINCOLN WILLIAM McKINLEY ULYSSES S. GRANT THEODORE ROOSEVELT John Ouincy Adams i^ furniture. He resembles rather a substantial, well-fed farmer, than one who has wielded the destinies of the mighty Con- federation, and been bred in the ceremony and etiquette of an European Court. In fact, he appears to possess none of that sternness of character which you would suppose to belong to one a large part of whose life has been spent in political war- fare, or, at any rate, amidst scenes requiring a vast deal of nerve and inflexibility. "Mrs. Adams is described in a word — a lady. She has all the warmth of heart and ease of manner that mark the charac- ter of the Southern ladies, and from which it would be no easy matter to distinguish her. "The ex-President was the chief talker. He spoke with infinite ease, drawing upon his vast resources with the cer-- tainty of one who has his lecture before him ready written. The whole of his conversation, which steadily he maintained for nearly four hours, was a continued stream of light. Well contented was I to be a listener. His subjects were the archi- tecture of the Middle Ages; the stained glass of that period; sculpture, embracing monuments particularly. On this sub- ject his opinion of Mrs. Nightingale's monument in West- minster Abbey differs from all others that I have seen or heard. He places it above every other in the Abbey, and observed in relation to it, that the spectator 'saw nothing else.' Milton, Shakespeare, Shenstone, Pope, Byron, and Southey were in turn remarked upon. He gave Pope a wonderfully high character, and remarked that one of his chief beauties was the skill exhibited in varying the cesural pause — quoting from various parts of his author to illustrate his remarks more fully. He said very little on the politics of the country. He spoke at considerable length of Sheridan and Burke, both of whom he had heard, and could describe with the most graphic eft'ect. He also spoke of Junius, and placed him far above the best of his contemporaries. He spoke of him as a bad man;. 20 Capital Stories About Famous Americans but maintained as a writer that he had never been equalled. The conversation never flagged for a moment; and on the whole, I shall remember my visit to Quincy, as amongst the most instructive and pleasant I ever passed." ADAMS* BREAD-CRUST Edward Everett tells this interesting incident of Adams in the National House of Representatives, where he spent the last seventeen years of his life : "My seat was, for two years, by his side, and it would have scarcely more surprised me to miss one of the marble columns of the Hall from its pedestal than to see his chair empty. * * * j shall, perhaps, be pardoned for introduc- ing here a slight personal recollection, which serves, in some degree, to illustrate his habits. The sessions of the last two days of (I think) the twenty-third Congress, were prolonged, the one for nineteen, and the other for seventeen hours. At the close of the last day's session, he remained in the hall of the House the last seated member of the body. One after another, the members had gone home ; many of them for hours. The hall — brilliantly lighted up, and gaily attended, as was, and perhaps is still, the custom at the beginning of the last evening of a session — had become cold, dark, and cheerless. Of the members who remained, to prevent the public business from dying for want of a quorum, most but himself were sink- ing from exhaustion, although they had probably taken their meals at the usual hours, in the course of the day. After the adjournment, I went up to Mr. Adams' seat, to join company with him, homeward ; and as I knew he came to the House at eight o'clock in the morning, and it was then past midnight, I expressed a hope that he had taken some refreshment in the course of the day. He said he had not left his seat; but holding up a bit of hard bread in his fingers, gave me to understand in what way he had sustained nature." John Ouincy Adams 21 THE WONDERFUL VITALITY OF THE "OLD MAN ELOQUENT' It was generally supposed that the remote cause of the death of John Quincy Adams was a severe injury he received by a fall in the House of Representatives in June, 1840. The accident is thus described by an eye-witness : "It had been a very warm day, and the debates had par- taken of extraordinary excitement, when, a few moments be- fore sunset, the House adjourned, and most of the members had sought relief from an oppressive atmosphere, in the arbors and recesses of the adjoining Congressional gardens. "At that time I held a subordinate clerkship in the House, which usually confined me, the larger portion of the day not devoted to debate, to one of the committee rooms ; whilst the balance of the day I occupied as a reporter. "Mr. Adams was always the first man in the House, and the last man out of it ; and, as I usually detained myself an hour or more after adjournment, in writing up my notes, I often came in contact with him. He was pleased to call at my desk very often before he went home, and indulged in some incidental, unimportant conversation. On the day referred to,. just as the sun was setting, and was throwing his last rays- through the murky hall, I looked up, and saw Mr. Adams approaching. He had almost reached my desk, and had up- lifted his hand in friendly salutation, when he pitched headlong, some six or eight feet, and struck his head against the sharp corner of an iron rail that defended one of the entrance aisles leading to the circle within the bar, inflicting a heavy contu- sion on his forehead, and rendering him insensible. I instantly leaped from my seat, took the prostrate sufferer in my arms, and found that he was in a state of utter stupor and insensi- bility. Looking around for aid, I had the good fortune to find that Colonel James Monroe, of the New York delegation, had just returned to his desk to procure a paper he had forgotten, when, giving the alarm, he flew to the rescue, manifesting the 22 Capital Stories oi^ Famous Americans deepest solicitude for the welfare of the venerable statesman. Follansbee, the doorkeeper, with two or more of his pages, came in next; and after we had applied a plentiful supply of cold water to the sufferer, he returned to consciousness, and requested that he might be taken to his residence. In less than five minutes, Mr. Moses H. Grinnell, Mr. George H. Profit, Mr. Ogden Hoffman, and Colonel Christopher Williams, of Tennessee, were called in, a carriage was procured, and Mr. Adams was being conveyed to his residence in President Square, when, it being ascertained that his shoulder was dis- located, the carriage was stopped at the door of the private hotel of Colonel Monroe, in Pennsylvania Avenue, between Eleventh and Twelfth Streets ; the suffering, but not com- plaining statesman, was taken out, and surgical aid instantly put in requisition. Doctor Sewall was sent for; when it was ascertained that the left shoulder- joint was out of the socket; and, though Mr, Adams must have suffered intensely, he com- plained not — did not utter a groan or a murmur. "More than an hour elapsed before the dislocated limb could be adjusted; and to effect which, his arm endured, in a concentrated and continued wrench or pull, many minutes at a time, the united strength of Messrs. Grinnell, Monroe, Profit, and Hoffman. Still Mr. Adams uttered not a murmur, though the great drops of sweat that rolled down his furrowed cheeks, or stood upon his brow, told but too well the physical agony he endured. As soon as his arm was adjusted, he insisted on being carried home, and his wish was granted. "The next morning I was at the capitol at a very early hour, attending to some writing. I thought of, and lamented the accident that had befallen Mr. Adams, and had already commenced writing an account of it to a correspondent. At that instant I withdrew my eyes from the paper on which I was writing, and saw Mr. Adams standing a foot or two from me, carefully examining the carpeting. 'Sir,' said he. John Quincy Adams 23 'I am looking for that place in the matting that last night tripped me. If it be not fastened down, it may kill some one.' And then he continued his search for the trick-string matting." DYING AT HIS POST The death of John Quincy Adams was as fitting as it was memorable. On the morning of November 21, 1846, he rose at his usual very early hour, and engaged in his accustomed occupations with his pen. An extraordinary alacrity pervaded his movements, and the cheerful step with which he ascended the steps of the Capitol was remarked by his attendants. He occupied a portion of the forenoon in composing a few stanzas of poetry, at the request of a friend, and had signed his name twice for members who desired to obtain his autograph. Mr. Chase had introduced a resolution of thanks to Gen- erals Twiggs, Worth, Quitman, Pillow, Shields, Pearce, Cad- walader, and Smith, for their services in the Mexican War, and awarding them gold medals. Mr. Adams was in his seat, and voted on the two questions preliminary to ordering its en- grossment, with an uncommonly emphatic tone of voice. About half past one o'clock, P.M., as the Speaker had risen to put another question to the House, the proceedings were suddenly interrupted by cries of "Stop! stop! Mr. Adams!" There /Was a quick movement towards the chair of Mr. Adams, by two or three members, and in a moment he was surrounded by a large number of Representatives, eagerly inquiring — "What's the matter?" "Has he fainted?" "Is he dead?" John Quincy Adams, while faithful at his post, and appar- ently about to rise to address the Speaker, had sunk into a state of unconsciousness ! He had been struck a second time with paralysis. The scene was one of intense excitement. Pallor, anxiety, alarm, were depicted on every countenance. "Take him out." "Bring water," exclaimed several voices. He had been prevented from falling to the floor by a Member 24 Capital Stories About Famous Americans from Ohio, whose seat was near his — Mr. Fisher — who re- ceived him in his arms. Immediately Mr. Grinnell, one of his colleagues from Alassachusetts was by his side, keeping off anxious friends, and bathing his face with ice-water. He was immediately lifted into the area in front of the Clerk's table. The Speaker instantly suggested that some gentleman move an adjournment, which, being promptly done, the House adjourned. A sofa was brought, and Mr. Adams, in a state of perfect helplessness though not of entire insensi- l)ility, was gently laid upon it. He was removed into the Speaker's apartment, where he lingered for two days — Con- gress, in the meantime, assembling in respectful silence, and immediately adjourning from day to day. Silence reigned through the halls of the Capitol, save the cautious tread and whispered inquiry of anxious questioners. The soul of a sage, a patriot, a Christian, was preparing to depart from the world ! — no sound was heard to ruffle its sweet serenity — a calmness and peace fitting the momentous occasion prevailed around 1 The elements of life and death continued their uncertain l)alance, until seven o'clock on the evening of November 23, when the spirit of John Ouincy Adams bade adieu to earth forever, and winged its flight to God. Only once after receiv- ing the deathstroke did he awake to consciousness, and uttered his last words : "This is the last of earth. I am content." JANE ADDAMS "THE YELLOW KID" /^F peasant life in Russia, Jane Addams tells this story: ^-^ "I went with a friend to a peasant home to call on an old lady who was famous among her neighbors because she could read. The common belief was that she had been taught to read by Tolstoi. It seems that, years before, Tolstoi had given her a few lessons in reading, but she had forgotten most Russell A. Alger 25 of the little she had learned. However, she was fond of telling her friends marvelous stories about people in other lands, of whom she said she had read in books. One of these stories was that Americans were black. So when we were presented, one of her friends asked : " 'Why, these ladies are not black, and they came from America. How is this ? You told us Americans were black.' "The old lady was disconcerted for a minute, and then ex- plained : 'Why, there are two kinds of people in America, and I told you about only one kind. There are black people and yellow people, and these ladies are the yellow kind.' " RUSSELL A. ALGER THE TOP PRICE FOR A COW GENERAL RUSSELL A. ALGER, former Secretary of War, is said to have paid the record price for a cow — and that a dead one. He was an orphan in Richfield, Ohio, without a cent and with but one suit of clothes. He wanted to attend school, and went to a doctor who lived in a neighbor- ing- village to ask for a chance to work for his board. The doctor did not need the services of a boy, but was so much impressed by young Alger's earnestness that he took him into his family and sent him to school. He did no work except to care for the doctor's horse and cow. The years sped on, and Russell A. Alger became a millionaire, while his benefactor was reduced to straitened circumstances. One by one the doctor's children died, and he and his aged wnfe were left alone. But the old man kept his pride, and when General Alger assisted him he was forced to do so in roundabout ways. A dozen years or so ago, the General paid the doctor a visit,, determining to aid him. "Why, Alger, you don't ow^e me anything," said the old man, "and I won't take anything." 26 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans "But I owe my education to you." "Bosh ! You owe that to yourself." "But I caused you trouble and expense, for which I want to repay you." "The trouble need not trouble you, and there wasn't any expense worth talking about. In fact, the only expense that you caused me, so far as I can remember, was the loss of a cow. Do you know, Alger, that, when you came to live with me, I had the best cow in these parts, and that your awkward- ness completely spoiled her? Within three weeks you had made her so skittish that no one could go near her, and I had to sell her for beef." "Then I owe you for that cow. I am going to pay you for her, and to add a little interest for the use of the money for about forty years." After long argument the old man reluctantly consented to receive pay for his cow, and the check that General Alger drew to his order kept him in comfort for the remainder of his life. SHARING CFiEDIT WITH HIS WIFE Russell A. Alger came out of the Civil War at thirty, with the rank of a brigadier-general, and a splendid record as a fighter, but with only a few hundred dollars at his command. This sum he lost in a brick-making venture at Detroit. He then turned his attention to the lumber business, soon to dis- cover, however, that there was no way to succeed but to go out in the woods and conduct lumbering in person. "I had some gentlemen to back me with money," said he, "and the first year I walked a hundred and fifty miles through the woods, with a pack on my back, to select the timber. My wife also proved equal to the emergency, and went with me into the woods. Our house, that winter, was a little log cabin, a hun- dred miles away from the railroad, and Mrs. Alger did her own cooking, rising at four o'clock in the morning to prepare John James Audubon 2j my breakfast. It was thus that I got my start, and half of the credit for it belongs to my wife." PHILIP D. ARMOUR THE CLERK WHO HELD HIS OWN T)HILIP D. ARMOUR, like J. P. Morgan, would never hire a clerk for less than one thousand dollars a year. One day a young man applied to Mr. Armour for a clerkship. ■ "Well, sir, how little do you want for your services?" he asked. "You must understand that times are hard. We are onl}^ killing eight million hogs and five million beeves a year." The young man said : "Mr. Armour, I would not be here, if I did not know times are hard, and I'll be easy with you. ril begin at ten dollars a week, if you will agree to increase my salary one dollar for every one hundred thousand beeves you don't kill under five million, and one dollar for every two hundred thousand hogs you don't kill under eight million." With his shrewd eyes, Mr. Armour looked at the young man, then said, abruptly : "As a rule, I dislike precocious youngsters ; they don't last. But I'll let you start in at twenty- five dollars a week, without conditions. I do it, too, with some fear that in a few years you will own the business." JOHN JAMES AUDUBON JOHN JAMES AUDUBON, the great American naturalist, lived his life largely in the forest wilds, and his story is full of interesting incidents and vivid experiences. LIFE IN AN OSAGE INDIAN CAMP Audubon gives this picture of one of his experiences among the Osage Indians. He says : "The Osages being a new race to me, I went often to their camp to study their character and 28 Capital Stories About Famous Americans habits ; but found much difficulty in becoming acquainted with them. They spoke no French and only a few words of Eng- hsh, and their general demeanor proved them to be a noble race. They were delighted to see me draw, and when I made a tolerable likeness of one of them, with red chalk, they cried out with astonishment, and laughed excessively. "The bones we threw around our camp attracted many wolves, and afforded us much sport in hunting them. Here I passed six weeks pleasantly, investigating the habits of wild deer, bears, cougars, racoons, and turkeys, and many other animals, and I drew more or less by the side of our great camp-fire every day ; and no one can have an idea what a good fire is who has never seen a camp-fire in the woods of America. Imagine four or five ash-trees, three feet in diameter and sixty feet long, cut and piled up, with all their limbs and branches, ten feet high, and then a fire kindled on the top with brush and dry leaves; and then imder the smoke the party lies down and goes to sleep, , "Here our bread gave out ; and after using the breast of wild turkeys for bread, and bear's grease for butter, and eat- ing opossum and bear's meat until our stomachs revolted, it was decided that a Kentuckian named Pope, our clerk, and a good woodsman, should go with me to the nearest settlement and try and bring some Indian meal. On the way we saw a herd of deer, and turned aside to shoot one ; and having done so, and marked the place, we continued our journey. We walked until dusk, and no river appeared. Just then I noticed an Indian trail, which we supposed led to the river; and after following it a short distance, entered the camp we had left in the morning. My partner, finding that we had no wheaten loaves in our hands, and no bags of meal on our backs, said we were boobies ; the boatmen laughed, the Indians joined the chorus, and we ate some cold racoon, and stumbled into our buffalo robes, and were soon enjoying our sleep." John James Audubon 29 A QUEER FISH As Audubon rambled one day beside his favorite river, he observed a man landing from a boat, with what appeared a bundle of dried clover on his back. No sooner had the ex- clamation "What an odd-looking fellow! an original, surely!" crossed his mind, than he perceived the stranger approach him in haste, and with astonishment, heard him inquire for the house of Mr. Audubon. With the cordial hospitality which characterized him, Audubon instantly replied, "Why, I am the man, and will gladly lead you to my dwelling." The traveler thus happily relieved from all perplexity as to his entree, actually clapped his hands with delight. He then took from his pocket a letter of introduction, which he presented. Its contents were : "My Dear Audubon: "I send you an odd fish, which may prove to be unde- scribed ; if so, I hope you will let me have an account in your next letter. Believe me always your friend, B." With an amusing simplicity worthy of this Cincinnatus of science, Audubon unhesitatingly asked the bearer, "where the odd fish was?" Perplexity was now his, wdien, with perfect good humor and self-possession, Monsieur de Thouville, in whose presence he was, replied, "I am that odd fish, I presume, Mr. Audubon." A ROMANTIC HONEYIVIOON On cne of Audubon's journeys through the wild forests in company with his son, they found themselves lost on a stormy night. The rain fell in torrents, the thunder roared, and light- ning flamed. They dared not stop, and they knew no refuge. Suddenly they caught the glimmer of a light apparently not far off. At the same moment the barking of dogs fell grate- fullv on their ears in the solitude. They exchanged a salute. 30 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans and no sooner had they done so than a pine torch glared across the gloom. Without any ceremony of questioning, the negro boy by whom it was borne enjoined the travelers to follow him. The door of a dwelling was soon reached, when a tall fine- looking young fellow desired them to enter. Spite the humble dimensions of the cabin no more inviting refuge could be imagined. It had evidently only been recently constructed by the inmates, a young couple, who with the amiable simplicity of wood-doves, had sought this humble shelter in which to tell all the happy tale of love. It was built of logs of the tulip tree, neatly carved, and slabs of wood, white as snow, fomied the floor. A large spinning-wheel, with rolls of cotton, occu- pied one corner, and sundry garments, its produce, testified the ingenious industry of the young matron. A small cup- board contained a stock of bright new crockery, in dishes, plates, and pans. The table and other few pieces of furniture shone bright as polished walnut could be. The only bed it contained was of domestic manufacture. A fine rifle orna- mented the mantel-shelf. The ready activity and cheerful un- remitting attention shown by the young wife towards the strangers proved the sincerity of her pleasure in sharing her husband's expressions of hospitality. The wanderers, seated by the fire, had fresh clothes, warm and dry, presented to them in return for their drenched gar- ments. The blaze of the wood logs illumined the cottage, and the sight of poultry told of good cheer, when the host expressed his regret "that the travelers had not arrived three weeks earlier; for," said he, "it was our wedding day. My father gave us a good house-warming, and you might have fared better; but if you can eat bacon, with eggs and a broiled chicken, you shall have that. I have no whisky ; but my father has some excellent cider. I'll go for a keg of it — it's only three miles, so I'll be back before Eliza has cooked your sup- per." In a minute, through the pouring of the rain, which fell John Jame;s Audubon 31 in torrents, the galloping of his horse was heard. Meantime, the negroes ground some coffee, and bread was baked by the fair young wife. The cloth was set, and all arranged, when the clattering of hoofs told the husband's return. He entered, bearing a two-gallon keg of cider. His eyes beamed with benevolent pleasure at the adventure, while, seated by the fire, he filled a bowl with the sparkling juice. Supper over, part of the bedding was arranged for the guests. Sweetly they slept till the return of morning, when, after a hearty breakfast, they pursued their way, now with a brighter atmosphere and more buoyant hopes. The young woodsman headed the party on horseback till beyond the difficulties of the road, when, after a friendly farewell, he returned to his dear Eliza and his deli- cious honeymoon. AUDUBON'S FAVORITE BIRD Above all the birds of the forest Audubon loved the wood- thrush. It was associated to him with a black, desolate night in the depths of the wood when the loneliness entered into his soul. He was weary, hungry and sad, and had, above all, the anticipation of the destruction of his treasured drawings on which he had spent so much time, and had risked even life itself. All night long the storm beat upon him. He dared not sleep, even if that had been possible. The water came rushing through the tent, forcing its miserable inhabitant to stand erect and give protection to his treasures, the mean- while, shivering as in an ague, and tormented with mosqui- toes. With a martyr's patience, he waited the return of the day ! How did his memory return to the peaceful, happy days of his early youth, the delights of his home, and the embraces of his family, questioning if ever again he should behold them. Then as the first beams of morning spread over the dusky mass of foliage, the musical notes of the wood-thrush — that joyful herald of the day, broke gratefully upon his ear, as if to re- 32 Capital Stories About Famous Americans assure his doubting spirit. Fervently as he listened did he bless that Being who created this companion to console his solitude, cheer his depression, and sustain his faith under all situations. His -fears vanished at the inspiring strain of the songster, and were replaced by buoyant hopes. The heavens gradually cleared. The gladdening rays of the sun, rising from the distant horizon, dissipated the gray mist spread over the face of nature, and increased in intensity, till the majestic orb shone in complete effulgence on the sight, as the clear, fresh notes of the thrush were heard, echoed by all the choristers of the wood. THE ROMANCE OF A RUNAWAY SLAVE Audubon was one day creeping his way through the heart of a great Southern swamp, laden with the double burden of his weighty gun, and a rich booty of rich ibises, directing his course towards home. Unexpectedly he came upon the banks of a miry pool. As he could not ascertain the depth of the water, owing to its muddiness, he thought it best, while wading through it, to dispense with his burden, which he flung to the opposite margin. Then drawing his knife, as a defense against alligators, he plunged into the pool, followed by his faithful dog, Plato. Soon he had reason to think that alligators were not the only enemies to be feared. Scarcely had he reached the shore when his dog exhibited unmistakable signs of terror at some discovery he was the first to make. Audubon, supposing his fear to proceed from the scent of some bear or wolf, put his hand on his gun, when he was enlightened as to the cause of alarm by a loud voice, which commanded him to ''stand still, or die." Astonished and indignant at so singular and peremp- tory a mandate, in such a place, he determined to resist it, no matter from whom it proceeded ; and instantly cocked his gun, though unable to perceive the hidden challenger. John James Audubon 33 Presently a stout negro emerged from his lurking-place, where he had crouched in the brushwood, and repeated his command in a still more threatening tone. Audubon perceiving, however, the worthlessness of the gun which his enemy was about to aim at his breast, forbore to use his own, and only gently tapped his trusty Plato. He had no reason to regret the forbearance, for the negro, instead of en- deavoring to take advantage of it, seemed entirely disarmed by such generosity. In answer to Audubon's inquiries, his simple story was soon told, and the energetic demonstrations of the poor runaway were seemingly fully accounted for by other' than guilty motives. In constant apprehension of pur- suit, his dread of capture caused him at the least signal of alarm, he said, to stand on the defensive. "Alaster," he con- tinued, "my tale is short and sorrowful. ]\Iy camp is close by. You cannot reach home to-night. If you wnll follow me, depend upon my honor that you shall be safe until the morning, when, if you please, I will carry your birds for you to the Great Road." As he spoke, the benevolence of his intelligent eyes, with the attraction of his voice and manner, so assured Audu- bon — ^never unnecessarily suspicious — that he assented, with a slight emphasis, however, on the phrase that he would follow him. The negro, observing it, in order to put his companion at ease, then threw away the flint and priming of his gun. His knife he presented to Audubon, who, desirous of showing equal generosity, refused it. On they went through the woods together, Audubon not failing to observe that the course they pursued was directly contrary to his homeward road. After traveling some distance, the negro leading the way, with the accuracy of a redskin, over tangled swamps and stagnant streams, Audubon was startled by a loud shriek from his com- panion. Involuntarily he again leveled his gun. "No harm, master," said the negro in answer, "I only give notice to my 34 Capital Stories About Famous Ami;ricans wife and children of my approach." The signal was answered in gentler tones from female lips, when an expression of de- light, which disclosed his ivory teeth, lightened across the negro's countenance. "Master," he said, with a winning sim- plicity, "my wife, though black, is as beautiful to me as the President's wife is to him. She is my queen, and our young ones are our princes. But you shall see them, for here they all are, thank God." They soon reached the very heart of a cane brake, and here the poor fugitives had formed their camp, the few possessions of which were neatly and carefully disposed. The kindly demeanor of the negro, together with the amiable expression of his affection for his family, had now completely won Audubon's confidence. Convinced of his host's good in- tentions, and the sincerity of his hospitality, he did not hesitate to remain beneath his roof. While he received every attention which could ensure his comfort, the children caressed his dog, and after partaking heartily of a savory repast, he eagerly listened to the painful recital of the negro's trials. The master to whom he and his family had at first belonged, had been obliged, in consequence of some heavy losses he had sustained, to offer them for sale. The negro was purchased by a planter — his wife became the possession of another, a hundred miles distant, and the children were hurried to dif- ferent places. The loving heart of the slave was overwhelmed with grief at the calamity of this great loss. For the time, en- tirely prostrated by the misfortune, he sorrowed in the deepest dejection, without energy or hope. At length the powers of resistance awakened. He resolved to act boldly, and without delay. One stormy night, when the fury of the hurricane favored him by causing every one to seek the shelter of his dv/elling, he effected his escape, his intimate knowledge of the neighboring swamps and brakes facilitating his design. A few nights afterwards he had again the joy of embracing his be- loved wife — the next day they wandered together. John Jame;s Audubon ' 35 Through his caution and unwearied assiduity he succeeded in obtaining one after another the children, till at length all the cherished objects of his affection were gathered, like a tender brood beneath the sheltering wing of a bird, under his care. But with the joy of this renewed protection was mingled a painful sense of responsibility, wandering in dreary wilds, where scarcely subsistence for one, much less for five human beings could be found. He was tormented, moreover, by dread of seizure, for he well knew that since his disappearance the forest had been daily ransacked by armed pursuers. Yet, driven by extreme privation, he was compelled to brave discov- ery in search of a precarious provision of wild fruits and game. On one of these excursions, as was said, he had been surprised by Audubon. After thus relating to him their secret, both, with tears in their eyes, implored his exertions on behalf of them and their children, who, sweetly slumbering, appealed by their helplessness and innocence for protection. Most cordially Audubon promised them all the assistance in his power. On the follovying day, accompanied by the runaway and his family, he departed, leaving the ibises hung around the walls of the hut, and many a notch in the trees as a memento of his presence. They then bent their way towards the dwelling of the negro's first master. On arriving there, they were received with the most generous kindness. At the request of Audubon, according to the desire of the fugitives, they were repurchased from their late masters, and admitted again into the benevolent family, where they were regarded as a part of it, and gratefully remembered the good fortune which had brought Audubon to them as a guest. AUDUBON AND THE EAGLE In 1833 Audubon came into possession of a splendid speci- men of the golden eagle. He relates this interesting story con- cerninsr it : 36 Capital Stories About Famous Americans "I placed the cage so as to afford me a good view of the captive, and I must acknowledge that as I watched his looks of proud disdain, I did not feel towards him so generously as I ought to have done. At times, I was half inclined to restore him his freedom, that he might return to his native mountains ; nay, I several times thought how pleasant it would be to see him spread out his broad wings, and sail towards the rocks of his wild haunts ; but then, someone seemed to whisper that I ought to take a portrait of this magnificent bird, and therefore I abandoned the more generous design of setting him at liberty. "I occupied myself a whole day in watching his movements ; on the next I came to a determination as to the position in which I might best represent him ; and on the third, thought of how I could take away his life with the least pain to him. "I consulted several persons on the subject, and among others, my most worthy and generous friend, Dr. George Park- man, who kindly visited my family every day. He spoke of suffocating him by means of burning charcoal, of killing him by electricity, etc., and we both concluded that the first method would be, probably, the easiest for ourselves, and the least pain- ful to him. Accordingly the bird was removed in his prison to a very small room and closely covered with blankets — a pan of lighted charcoal was introduced, the windows and doors fastened, and the blankets tucked in beneath the cage. I waited, expecting every moment to hear him fall down from his perch ; but after listening for hours, I opened the door, raised the blankets, and peeped under them amidst a mass of suffocating fumes. There stood the eagle on his perch, with his bright, unflinching eye turned towards me, and as lively and vigorous as ever ! Instantly reclosing every aperture, I resumed my station at the door, and towards midnight, not having heard the least noise, I again took a peep at my victim. John James Audubon 37 He was still uninjured, although the air of the closet was insupportable to my son and myself, and that of the adjoining apartment began to feel unpleasant. I persevered, however, for ten hours in all, when, finding that the charcoal fumes would not produce the desired effect, I retired to rest, wearied and disappointed. Early next morning, I tried the charcoal anew, adding to it a quantity of sulphur, but we were nearly driven from our house in a few hours by the stifling vapors, while the noble bird continued to stand erect, and look defiance at us whenever we approached his post of martyrdom. His fierce demeanor precluded all internal application, and at last I was compelled to resort to a method, always used as a last expedient, and a most efifectual one. I thrust a long, pointed piece of steel through his heart, when my proud prisoner in- stantly fell dead, without even ruffling a feather. "I sat up nearly the whole of another night to outline him, and worked so constantly at the drawing, that it nearly cost me mv life. I was suddenly seized with a spasmodic afifection, that much alarmed my family, and completely prostrated me for some days." THE TURTLER'S STORY During one of Audubon's most interesting tours as a naturalist among the Everglades of Florida, he spent much time with a very interesting man who was a turtler, and made his living by searching for turtles and their eggs. This man related to the naturalist this extraordinarily interesting adventure : "In the calm of a fine moonlight night as I was admiring the beauty of the heavens, and the broad glare of light that flamed from the trembling surface of the water around, I chanced to be paddling along a sandy shore which I thought well fitted for my repose, being covered with tall grass, and as the sun was not many degrees above the horizon, I felt 38 Capital, Stories About Famous Americans anxious to pitch my mosquito bar or net, and spend the night in the wilderness. The bellowing notes of thousands of bull- frogs in a neighboring swamp might lull me to rest, and I looked upon the flocks of blackbirds that were assembling, as «ure companions in this secluded retreat. I proceded up a little stream to insure the safety of my canoe from any sudden storm, when, as I gladly advanced, a beautiful yawl came unexpectedly in view. Surprised at such a sight in a part of the country then scarcely known, I felt a sudden check in the circulation of my tlood. My paddle dropped from my hands, and fearfully indeed, as I picked it up, did I look towards the unknown boat. On reaching it, I saw its sides marked with stains of blood, and looking with anxiety over the gunwale, I perceived to my horror two human bodies covered with gore. Pirates or hos- tile Indians I was persuaded had perpetrated the foul deed, and my alarm naturally increased ; my heart fluttered, stopped, and heaved with unusual tremors, and I looked towards the setting sun in consternation and despair. "How long my reveries lasted I cannot tell ; I can only recollect that I was roused from them by the distant groans of one apparently in mortal agony. I felt as if refreshed by the cold perspiration that oozed from every pore, and I reflected that though alone, I was well armed, and might hope for the protection of the Almighty ! Humanity whispered to me that, if not surprised and disabled, I might render assistance to some suflferer, or even be the means of saving a useful life. Buoyed up by this thought I urged my canoe on shore, and seizing it by the bow pulled it at one spring high among the grass. The groans of the unfortunate persons fell heavy on my ear, as I cocked and reprimed my gun, determined to shoot the first who should rise from the grass. As I cautiously proceeded, a hand was raised over the reeds, and waved in a most supplicatory manner. I leveled my gun about a foot below it, when the next moment the head and breast of a man John James Audubon 39 were convulsively raised, and a faint, hoarse voice asked of me mercy and help ! A death-like silence followed his fall to the ground, I surveyed every object around, with eyes intent, and ears impressible by the slightest sound, for my situation at that moment I thought as critical as any I had ever been in. The croaking of the frogs, and the last blackbirds alighting on their roosts were the only sounds or sights. I now pro- ceeded towards the object of my mingled alarm and conster- nation. Alas ! the poor being who lay prostrate at my feet was so weakened by loss by blood that I had nothing to fear from him. "My first impulse was to run back to the water, and having done so, I returned with my cap filled to the brim. I felt at his heart, washed his face and breast, and rubbed his temples with the contents of a phial which I kept about me as an anti- dote for bites of snakes. His features, seamed by the ravages, of time, looked frightful and disgusting; but he had been a powerful man, as his broad chest plainly showed. He groaned in the most appalling manner as his breath struggled through the mass of blood that seemed to fill his throat. His dress plainly disclosed his occupation : a large pistol he had thrust in his bosom, a naked cutlass lay near him on the ground, a red silk hankerchief was bound over his projecting brows, and over a pair of loose trousers he wore fisherman's boots. He was, in short, a pirate. My exertions were not in vain, for as I continued to bathe his temples he revived, his pulse re- gained some strength, and I began to hope he might survive the deep wound he had received. Darkness, deep darkness now enveloped us. I spoke of making a fire. "Ah ! for mercy's sake," he exclaimed, "don't." Knowing that under existing circumstances it was expedient for me to do so, I left him, went to his boat, and brought the rudder, the benches, and the oars, which, with my hatchet, I soon splintered. I then struck a light and presently stood in the glare of a blazing 40 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans fire. The pirate seemed struggling between terror and grati- tude for my assistance; he desired me several times to put out the flames, but after a draught of strong spirits became more composed. I tried to staunch the blood that flowed from the deep gashes in his shoulders and side. I expressed my regret that I had no food about me, but when I spoke of eating he sullenly moved his head. "My situation was one of the most extraordinary I had ever been placed it. I naturally turned my talk towards religious subjects, but, alas, the dying man hardly believed in the exist- ence of a God. 'Friend,' said he, 'for friend you seem to be; I never studied the ways of Him of whom you talk. I am an outlaw, perhaps you will say a wretch — I have been for many years a pirate. The instructions of my parents were of no avail to me, for I always believed I was born to be a most cruel man, I now lie here about to die amidst these woods, because, long ago, I refused to listen to their many admonitions. Do not shudder when I tell you these now useless hands murdered the mother whom they had embraced. I feel I have deserved the pangs of the wretched death that hovers over me, and I am thankful that only one of my kind will witness my last gaspings.' "A feeble hope that I might save his life, and perhaps assist in procuring his pardon, induced me to speak to him on the subject. 'It is all in vain, friend — I have no objection to die — I am glad that the villains who wounded me were not my conquerors. I want no pardon from anyone — give me some water, and let me die alone.' "With the hope that I might learn from his conversation something that might lead to the capture of his guilty asso- ciates ; I returned from the creek with another capful of water, nearly the whole of which I managed to introduce into his parched mouth, and begged him for the sake of his future peace, to disclose his history to me. 'It is impossible,' said he, John James Audubon 41 'there will be no time, the beatings of my heart tell me so. Long before day these sinewy limbs will be motionless. Nay, there will hardly be a drop of blood in my body. Tvly wounds are mortal, and I must and will die without what you call confession.' "The moon rose in the East. The majesty of her placid beauty impressed me with reverence. I pointed towards her, and asked the pirate if he could not recognize the hand of God there. " 'Friend, I see what you are driving at,' was his answer, 'you, like the rest of our enemies, feel the desire of murdering us all. Well — be it so — to die is, after all, nothing more than a jest, and were it not for the pain, no one, in my opinion, need care a jot abotit it. But as you have really befriended me I will tell you all that is proper.' "Hoping his mind might take a useful turn, I again bathed his temples, and washed his lips with spirits. His sunken eyes seemed to dart fire at mine — a heavy and deep sigh swelled his chest and struggled through his blood-choked throat, as he asked me to raise him a little. I did so, when he addressed me as follows : " 'First tell me how many bodies you found in the boat, and what sort of dresses they had on.' I mentioned their number and described their apparel. 'That's right,' said he, they are the bodies of the scoundrels who followed me in that infernal Yankee barge. Bold rascals they were. For when they found the water too shallow for their craft, they took to it and waded after me. All my companions had been shot, and to lighten my own boat I flung them overboard ; but as I lost time in this, the two ruffians caught hold of my gunwale, and struck on my head and body in such a way that T was scarcely able to move The other villain carried ofif our schooner and one of our boats, and perhaps ere now have hung all my companions whom they did not kill at the time. I 42 Capital Storie;s About Famous Americans always hated the Yankees, and only regret that I did not kill more of them. I sailed from Matanzas — I have often been in concert with others. I have money without counting, but it is buried where it will never be found, and it would be use- less to tell you of it.' His throat filled with blood, his voice failed, the cold hand of death was on his brow, feebly and hurriedly he muttered, 'I am a dying man, farewell!' ''Alas! it is painful to me, death in any shape; in this it was horrible, for there was no hope. The rattling in his throat announced the moment of his dissolution, and already did the body fall on my arms with a weight which was in- supportable. I laid him on the ground. A mass of dark blood poured from his mouth. Then came a frightful groan, the last breathing of that foul spirit, and all that now lay at my feet in that wild desert was a mangled mass of clay ! "The remainder of that night was passed in no enviable mood, but my feelings cannot be described. At dawn I dug a hole with the paddle of my canoe, rolled the body into it, and -covered it. On reaching the boat, I found several buzzards feeding on the bodies, which I in vain attempted to drag to the shore. I therefore covered them with mud and reeds, and launching my canoe, paddled from the cove with a secret joy at my escape, shadowed with the gloom of a mingled dread and abhorrence." IRVING BACHELLER A LAME EXCUSE AFTER finishing Vcrgilius last summer, Irving Bacheller -^~^ went down to a certain little rural village in Pennsyl- vania to rest. His doctor had recommended horseback riding, and finding it difficult to hire a suitable mount, he finally bought a horse from an elderly man who wore the regulation long drab coat and broad-brimmed hat of the old-fashioned Quaker. Phineas T. Barnum 43 It was a likely-looking nag, and Bacheller felt much pleased over the transaction. Mounting, he rode off, but before he had gone a mile the animal developed a decided case of lame- ness Bacheller turned back, and shortly he met the Quaker plodding along the road. The rider drew up and started to speak, when the man held up both hands and said : "No, no; thee must not ask me to take back the horse." *'Oh, I wasn't going to," returned Bacheller softly. "All that I want is that you lend me your hat and coat till I can sell him to some one else." JOHN KENDRICK BANGS HIS SOURCE OF SUPPLY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS, the humorist, is the father of J a Hvely boy who may yet follow in the footsteps of his parent. Not long ago Mr. Bangs wrote some paragraphs for a certain weekly, two or three of which were based more or less on sayings of this son, much to the hopeful's delight. The result was that he developed a very favorable opinion of his own importance to his father's literary labors. A neighbor calling one day about this time found the youngster swinging on the front gate. "Hallo," said the visitor; "is your father at home?" "Yes," answered the boy. "Where is he?" "In the library, writing down the funny things I say." PHINEAS T. BARNUM ^T^"^HIS collection of interesting stories of one of the most -*- unique personalities America has produced is taken from Mr. Barnum's own Recollections. His vigorous style of doing things is well exemplified in the narratives selected. 44 Capital Stories About Famous Americans RIGID ECONOMY Barniim tells an interesting- story of the time when he had bought a great museum on credit, and was saving money to pay for it. He says : "At the very outset, I was determined to deserve success. My plan of economy included the intention to support my family in New York on $600 a year, and my treasure of a wife not only gladly assented, but was willing to reduce the sum to $400, if necessary. Some six months after I had bought the museum, Mr. Olmsted happened in at my ticket- office at noon, and found me eating a frugal dinner of cold corned beef and bread, which I had brought from home. " *Is this the way you eat your dinner?' he asked. " 'I have not eaten a warm dinner, except on Sunday,' I re- plied, 'since I bought the museum, and never intend to, on a week day, till I am out of debt.' " 'Ah !' said he, clapping me on the shoulder, '3-ou are safe, and will pay for the museum before the year is out.' "And he was right, for within twelve months I was in full possession of the property as my own, and it was entirely paid for from the profits of the business." A SUCCESSFUL ADVERTISER Speaking of advertising methods, Air. Barnuni says : "I thoroughly understand the art of advertising, not merely by means of printers' ink, which I have always used freely, and to which I confess myself so much indebted for my suc- cess, but my turning every possible circumstance to my ac- count. It was my monomania to make the museum a town wonder, and town talk. I often seized upon an opportunity by instinct, even before I had a very definite conception as to how it should be used, and it seemed, somehow, to mature itself and serve my purpose. As an illustration, one morning a stout, hearty-looking man, came into my ticket-office, and Phineas T. Barnum 45 begged some money. I asked why he did not work and earn his living? He repHed that he could get nothing to do, and that he would be glad of any job at a dollar a day. I handed him a quarter of a dollar, told him to go and get his breakfast, and return, and I would employ him at light labor at a dollar and a half a day. Wlien he returned, I gave him five common bricks. " 'Now,' said I 'go and lay a brick on the sidewalk at the corner of Broadway and Ann Street ; another close by the Museum ; a third diagonally across the way at the corner of Broadway and Vesey Street, by the Astor House; put down the fourth on the sidewalk in front of St Paul's Church, oppo- site ; then, with the fifth brick in hand, take up a rapid march from one point to the other, making the circuit, exchanging your brick at every point, and say nothing to anyone.' " 'What is the object of this?' inquired the man. "'No matter,' I replied; 'all you need to know is that it brings you fifteen cents wages per hour. It is a bit of my fun, and to assist me properly you must seem to be as deaf as a post ; wear a serious countenance ; answer no questions ; pay no attention to anyone ; but attend faithfully to the work, and at the end of every hour by St. Paul's clock show this ticket at the Museum door ; enter, walking solemnly through every hall in the building; pass out, and resume your work.' "With the remark that it was 'all one to him, so long as he could earn his living,' the man placed his bricks and began his round. Half an hour afterwards, at least five hun- dred people were watching his mysterious movements. He had assumed a military step and bearing, and looking as sober as a judge, he made no response whatever to the constant in- quiries as to the object of his singular conduct. At the end of the first hour, the sidewalks in the vicinity were packed with people all anxious to solve the mystery. The man, as directed, then went into the Museum, devoting fifteen minutes to a 46 Capital Stories About Famous Americans solemn survey of the halls, and afterwards returning to his round. This was repeated every hour till sundown, and when- ever the man went into the Museum a dozen or more persons would buy tickets and follow him, hoping to gratify their curi- osity in regard to the purpose of his movements. This was continued for several days — the curious people who followed the man into the Museum considerably more than paying his wages — till finally the policeman, to whom I had imparted my object, complained that the obstruction of the sidewalk by crowds had become so serious that I must call in my 'brick man.' This trivial incident excited considerable talk and amusement ; it advertised me ; and it materially advanced my purpose of making a lively corner near the Museum." HOW HE GOT THE BEST OF CLARK Barnum recounts a pasage at arms with a noted editor of his day. "On one occasion, Mr. Louis Gaylord Clark, the editor of the Knickerbocker, came to view my Museum, and introduced himself to me. As I was quite anxious that my establishment should receive a first-rate notice at his hands, I took pains to show him everything of interest, except the Niagara Falls, which I feared would prejudice him against my entire show. But as we passed the room, the pump was at work warning me that the great cataract was in full opera- tion, and Clark, to my dismay, insisted upon seeing it. " 'Well, Barnum, I declare, this is quite a new idea ; I never saw the like before.' "'No?' I faintly inquired, with something like reviving hope. " 'No,' said Clark, 'and I hope, with all my heart, I never shall again.' "But the Knickerbocker spoke kindly of me, and refrained from all allusions to 'the cataract of Niagara with real water.' Some months after, Clark came in breathless one day and asked Phineas T. Barnum 47 me if I had the ckib with which Captain Cook was killed? As I had a lot of Indian war clubs in the collection of Aboriginal Curiosities, and owing Clark something on the Old Niagara Falls account, I told him that I had the veritable club, with documents which placed its identity beyond question, and I showed him the warlike weapon. " Toor Cook ! Poor Cook !' said Clark, musingly. 'Well, Mr. Barnum,' he continued, with great gravity, at the same time extending his hand and giving mine a hearty shake, 'I am really very much obliged to you for your kindness. I had an irrepressible desire to see the club that killed Captain Cook, and I felt quite confident you would accommodate me. I have been in half a dozen smaller museums, and as they all had it, I was sure a large establishment like yours would not be with- out it.' "A few weeks afterwards, I wrote to Clark that if he would come to my office I was anxious to consult him on a matter of great importance. He came, and I said : " 'Now, I don't want any of your nonsense, but I want your sober advice.' "He assured me that he would serve me in any way in his power, and I proceeded to tell him about a wonderful fish from the Nile, offered to me for exhibition at $100 a week, the owner of which was willing to forfeit $5,000, if, within six weeks, this fish did not pass through a transformation, in which the tail would disapppear and the fish would then have legs. "'Is it possible!' asked the astonished Clark. "I assured him that there was no doubt of it. "Thereupon he advised me to engage the wonder at any price ; that it would startle the naturalists, wake up the whole scientific world, draw in the masses, and make $20,000 for the Museum. I told him that I thought well of the speculation, onlv I did not like the name of the fish. 48 CapitaIv Stories About Famous Americans " 'That makes no difference whatever,' said Clark ; Svliat is the name of the fish ?' " 'Tadpole/ I replied with becoming gravity, 'but it is vul- garity called 'pollywog.' " "'Sold, by thunder!' exclaimed Clark, and he left." THE FAMOUS DOCTOR VALENTINE "Dr. Valentine will be remembered by man}' as the man who gave imitations and delineations of eccentric characters. He was quite a card at the Museum when I first purchased that establishment, and before I introduced dramatic representa- tions into the 'Lecture Room.' His representations were usually given as follows: A small table was placed in about the centre of the stage ; a curtain reaching to the floor covered the front and two ends of the table ; under this table, on little shelves and hooks, were placed caps, hats, coats, wigs, mous- taches, curls, cravats, and shirt collars, and all sorts of gear for changing the appearance of the upper portion of the per- son. Dr. Valentine would seat himself in a chair behind the table, and addressing his audience, would state his intention to represent different peculiar characters, male and female, including the Yankee tin peddler; 'Tabitha Twist,' a maiden lady; 'Sam Slick, Jr.,' the precocious author; 'Solomon Jenkins,' a crusty old bachelor, with a song; the down-east school-teacher with his refractory pupils, with many other characters ; and he simply asked the indulgence of the audience for a few seconds between each imitation, to enable him to stoop down behind the table and 'dress' each character ap- propriately. "The Doctor himself was a most eccentric character. He was very nervous, and was always fretting lest his audience should be composed of persons who would not appreciate his 'imitations.' During one of his engagements the Lecture Room performances consisted of negro minstrelsy and Dr. Phineas T. Barnum 49 Valentine's imitations. As the minstrels gave the entire first half of the entertainment, the Doctor would post himself at the entrance to the Museum to study the character of the visitors from their appearance. He fancied that he was a great reader of character in this way, and as most of my visitors were from the country, the Doctor, after closely perusing their faces, would decide that they were not the kind of persons who would appreciate his efforts, and this made extremely nervous. When this idea was once in his head, it took complete posses- sion of the poor Doctor, and worked him up into a nervous excitement which it was often painful to behold. Every country-looking face was a dagger to the Doctor, for he had a perfect horror of exhibiting to an unappreciative audience. When so much excited that he could stand at the door no longer, the disgusted Doctor would come into my ofBce and pour out his lamentations in this wise : " 'There, Barnum, I never saw such a stupid lot of country bumpkins in my life. I shan't be able to get a smile out of them. I had rather be horsewhipped than attempt to satisfy an audience who have not got the brains to appreciate me. Sir, mine is a highly intellectual entertainment, and none but refined and educated persons can comprehend it.' " 'Oh, I think you will make them laugh some. Doctor,' I replied. " 'Laugh, sir, laugh ! Why, sir, they have no laugh in them, sir; and if they had, your devilish nigger minstrels would get it all out of them before I commence.' " 'Don't get excited, Doctor,' I said, 'you will please the people.' " 'Impossible, sir! I was a fool to ever permit my enter- tainment to be mixed up with that of nigger singers.' " 'But you could not give an entire entertainment satisfac- torily to the public ; they want more variety.' " 'Then you should have got something more refined, sir. 50 Capital Stories About Famous Americans Why, one of those idiotic nigger breakdowns excites your audience so they don't want to hear a word from me. At all events, I ought to commence the entertainment, and let the nig- gers finish up. I tell you, Mr. Barnum, I won't stand it! I would rather go to the poorhouse. I won't stay here over a fortnight longer ! It is killing me !' "In this excited state the Doctor would go upon the stage, dressed very neatly in a suit of black. Addressing a few pleas- ant words to the audience, he would then take a seat behind his little table, and with a broad smile covering his countenance, he would ask the audience to excuse him a few seconds, and he would appear as 'Tabitha Twist,' a literary spinster of fifty-five. On these occasions I was usually behind the scenes, standing at one of the wings opposite the Doctor's table, where I could see and hear all that occurred 'behind the curtain.' The moment the Doctor was down behind the table, a wonder- ful change came over that smiling countenance. " 'Hang this ignorant, stupid audience ! They would not laugh to save the city of New York!' said the Doctor, while he rapidly slipped on a lady's cap and a pair of long curls. Then, while arranging a lace handkerchief around his shoul- ders, he would grate his teeth and curse the Museum, its man- ager, the audience, and everybody else. The instant the hand- kerchief was pinned, the broad smile would come upon his face, and up would go his head and shoulders, showing to the audience a rollicking specimen of a good-natured old maid. " 'How do you do, ladies and gentlemen ? You all know me, Tabitha Twist, the happiest maiden in the village; always laughing. Now. I'll sing you one of my prettiest songs.' "The mock maiden would then sing a lively, funny ditty, followed by a faint applause, and down would bob the head behind the table to prepare for a presentation of 'Sam Slick, Jr.' " 'Hang such a set of fools' (off goes the cap, followed by Phineas T. Barnum 51 the curls). 'They think it's a country Sunday School' (tak- ing- off his lace handkerchief). 'I expect they will hiss me next, the donkeys' (on goes a light wig of long, flowing hair). 'I wish the old Museum was sunk in the Atlantic' (puts on a Yankee round-jacket, and broad-brimmed hat). 'I never will be caught in this stupid place again, 'up jump head and shoulders of the Yankee, and Slim Slick, Jr. sings out a merry " 'Ha ! Ha ! Why, folks, how de dew. Darn glad to see yew, by hokey ; I came down here to have lots of fun, for you know I always believe we must laugh and grow fat.' "After five minutes of similar rollicking nonsense, down would bob the head again, and the cursing, swearing, tear- ing, and teeth-grating would commence, and continue till the next character appeared to the audience bedecked with smiles and good humor." TOM THUMB AT COURT Barnum gives many interesting stories of his visits to royalty with General Tom Thumb. The following is both in- teresting and amusing: "On our third visit to Buckingham Palace, Leopold, King of the Belgians was also present. He was highly pleased, and asked a multitude of questions. Queen Victoria desired the General to sing a song, and asked him what song he preferred to sing. " 'Yankee Doodle,' was the prompt reply. "This answer was as unexpected to me as it was to the royal party. When the merriment it occasioned somewhat subsided, the Queen good-humoredly remarked, 'That is pretty song. General. Sing it if you please.' The General complied, and soon afterwards we retired. I ought to add, that after each of our three visits to Buckingham Palace, a very hand- some present was sent to me, of course bv the Queen's com- 52 Capital Stories About Famous Americans mand. This, however, was the smallest part of the advantage derived from these interviews, as will be at once apparent to all who consider the force of Court example in England. "The British public were now fairly excited. Not to have seen General Tom Thumb was decidedly unfashionable, and from March 20th until July 20th, the levees of the little Gen- eral at Egyptian Hall were continually crowded, the receipts averaging during the whole period about five hundred dollars per day, and sometimes going considerably beyond that sum. At the fashionable hour, between fifty and sixty carriages of the nobility have been counted at one time standing in front of our exhibition rooms in Piccadilly. "Portraits of the little General were published in all the pictorial papers of the time. Polkas and quadrilles were named after him, and songs were sung in his praise. He was an almost constant theme for the London Punch, which served up the General and myself so daintily that it no doubt added vastly to our receipts. "Besides his three public performances per day, the little General attended from three to four private parties per week, for which we were paid eight to ten guineas each. Frequently we would visit two parties in the same evening, and the de- mand in that line was much greater than the supply. The Queen Dowager Adelaide requested the General's attendance at Marlborough House one afternoon. He went in his court dress, consisting of a richly embroidered brown silk-velvet coat and short breeches, white satin vest with fancy-colored embroidery, white silk stockings and pumps, wig, bag-wig, cocked hat, and a dress sword. " 'Why, General,' said the Queen Dowager, 'I think you look very smart to-day.' " 'I guess I do,' said the General complacently. " 'A large party of the nobility were present. The old Duke of Cambridge offered the little General a pinch of snuff, Phineas T. Barnum 53 which he declined. The General sang his songs, performed his dances, and cracked his jokes, to the great amusement and delight of the distinguished circle of visitors. " 'Dear little General,' said the kind-hearted Queen, taking him upon her lap, 'I see you have got no watch. Will you per- mit me to present you with a watch and chain?' " 'I would like them very much,' replied the General, his eyes glistening with joy as he spoke. " 'I will have them made expressly for you,' responded the Queen Dowager; and at the same moment she called a friend and desired him to see that the proper order was executed. A few weeks thereafter we were called again to Marlborough House. A number of the children of the nobility were present, as well as some of their parents. After passing a few compli- ments with the General, Queen Adelaide presented him with a beautiful little gold watch, placing the chain around his neck with her own hands. The little fellow was delighted, and scarcely knew how sufficiently to express his thanks. The good Queen gave him some excellent advice in regard to his morals, which he strictly promised to obey. "After giving his performances, we withdrew from the royal presence, and the elegant little watch presented by the hands of Her Majesty the Queen Dowager was not only duly heralded, but was also placed upon a pedestal in the hall of exhibition, together with the presents from Queen Victoria, and covered with a glass vase. These presents, to which were soon added an elegant gold snuff-box mounted with tur- quoise, presented by his Grace the Duke of Devonshire, and many other costly gifts of the nobility and gentry, added greatly to the attractions of the exhibitions. The Duke of Wellington called frequently to see the little General at his public levees. The first time he called, the General was per- sonating Napoleon Bonaparte, marching up and down the plat- form, apparently taking snuff in deep meditation. He was 54 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans dressed in the well-known uniform of the Emperor. I intro- duced him to the 'Iron Duke,' who inquired the subject of his mediations. 'I w^as thinking of the loss of the battle of Waterloo,' was the little General's immediate reply. This display of wit was chronicled throughout the country, and was of itself worth thousands of pounds to the exhibition. THE GENERAL'S EXTRA TRAIN ''I remember once making an extraordinary effort to reach a branch-line station, where I meant to leave my teams and take the rail for Rugby. I had a time-table, and knew at what hour exactly I could hit the train ; but unfortunately the axle to my carriage broke, and as an hour was lost in repairing it, I lost exactly an hour in reaching the station. The train had long been gone, and I must be in Rugby, where we had adver- tised a performance. I stormed around till I found the super- intendent, and told him 'I must instantly have an extra train to Rugby.' " 'Extra train !' said he, with surprise and a half sneer, 'extra train ! why you can't have an extra train to Rugby for less than sixty pounds.' " 'Is that all ?' I asked ; 'well, get up your train immediately and here are your sixty pounds. What in the world are sixty pounds to me, when I wish to go to Rugby, or elsewhere, in a hurry !' "The astonished superintendent took the money, hustled about, and the train was soon ready. He was greatly puzzled to know what distinguished person — he thought he must be dealing with some prince, or, at least, a duke — was willing to give so much money to save a few hours time, and he hesitat- ingly asked whom he had the honor of serving. " 'General Tom Thumb.' "We reached Rugby in time to give our performance, as announced, and our receipts were £i6o, which quite covered Phineas T. Barnum 55 the expense of our extra train and left a handsome margin for profit." THE WELCOME TO JENNY UND Barnum gives this entertaining account of the welcome to Jenny Lind on her famous tour of America : "A few minutes before twelve o'clock on Sunday morning- the Atlantic hovQ in sight, and immediately afterwards, through the kindness of my friend Doane, I was on board the ship, and had taken Jenny Lind by the hand. "After a few moments' conversation, she asked me when and where I had heard her sing. " 'I never had the pleasure of seeing you before in my life,' I replied. " 'How is it possible that you dared risk so much money on a person whom you never heard sing?' she asked in surprise. " 'I risked it on your reputation, which in musical matters I would much rather trust than my own judgment,' I replied. "I may as well state, that although I relied prominently upon Jenny Lind's reputation as a great musical artiste, I also took largely into my estimate of her success with all classes of the American public, her character for extraordinary benevo- lence and generosity. Without this peculiarity in her disposi- tion, I never would have dared make the engagement which I did, as I felt sure that there were multitudes of individuals in America who would be prompted to attend her concerts bv this feeling alone. "Thousands of persons covered the shipping and piers, and other thousands had congregated on the wharf at Canal Street, to see her. The wildest enthusiasm prevailed as the steamer approached the dock. So great was the rush on a sloop near the steamer's berth that one man, in his zeal to obtain a good view, accidentally tumbled overboard, amid the shouts of those near him. Miss Lind witnessel this incident, and was much 56 C.\piTAL Stories About Famous Americans alarmed. He was, however, soon rescued, after taking to him- self a cold duck instead of securing a view of the Nightingale. A bower of green trees, decorated with beautiful flags, was discovered on the wharf, together with two triumphal arches, on one of which was inscribed, 'Welcome, Jenny Lind !' The second was surmounted by the American eagle, and bore the inscription, 'Welcome to America!' These decorations were not produced by magic, and I do not know that I can reasonably find fault with those who suspected I had a hand in their erection. My private carriage was in waiting, and Jenny Lind was escorted to it by Captain West. The rest of the musical party entered the carriage, and mounting the box at the driver's side, I directed him to the Irving House. I took that seat as a legitimate advertisement, and my presence on the outside of the carriage aided those who filled the win- dows and sidewalks along the whole route, in coming to the conclusion that Jenny Lind had arrived. "A reference to the journals of that day will show, that never before had there been such enthusiasm in the city of New York, or indeed in America. Within ten minutes after our arrival at the Irving House, not less than twenty thousand persons had congregated around the entrance in Broadway, nor was the number diminished before nine o'clock In the eve- ning. At her request, I dined with her that afternoon, and when, according to European custom, she prepared to pledge me in a glass of wine, she was somewhat surprised at my say- ing, 'Miss Lind, I do not think you can ask any other favor on earth which I would not gladly grant ; but I am a teetotaler, and must beg to be permitted to drink your health and happi- ness in*a glass of cold water.' "At twelve o'clock that night she was serenaded by the New York Musical Fund Society, numbering, on that occasion, two hundred musicians. They were escorted to the Irving House by about three hundred firemen, in their red shirts, bear- Phineas T. Barnum 57 ing torches. There was a far greater throng in the streets than there was even during the day. The calls for Jenny Lind were so vehement that I led her through a window to the balcony. The loud cheers from the crowds lasted for several minutes, before the serenade was permitted to proceed again." A LEGENDARY BARGAIN The amusing incident related below occurred during Bar- num's tour with Jenny Lind. Mr. Barnum tells the story : "The party were on board a Mississippi steamer. The time on board the steamer was whiled away in reading, viewing the scenery of the Mississippi and other diversions. One day we had a pleasant musical festival in the ladies' saloon for the gratification of the passengers, at which Jenny volunteered to sing without ceremony. It seemed to us she never sang so sweetly before. I also did my best to amuse my fellow-passen- gers with anecdotes and the exhibition of sundry legerdemain tricks, which I had been obliged to learn and use in the South years before and under far different circumstances than those which attended the performance now. Among other tricks, I caused a quarter of a dollar to disappear so mysteriously from beneath a card, that the Mulatto barber on board came to the conclusion that I was in league with the devil. "The next morning I seated myself for the operation of shaving, and the colored gentleman ventured to dip into the mystery. 'Beg pardon, Mr, Barnum, but I have heard a great deal about you, and I saw more than I wanted to see last night. Is it true that you have sold yourself to the devil, so that you can do what you've a mind to ?' " 'Oh, yes,' was my reply, 'that is the bargain betvteen us.' " 'How long did you agree for ?' was the question next in order. " 'Only nine years,' said I. 'I have had three of them already. Before the other six are out, I shall find a wav to 58 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans nonplus the old gentleman, and I told him so to his face.' "At this avowal, a larger space of white than usual was seen in the darky's eyes, and he inquired, 'Is it by this bargain that you get so much money ?' " 'Certainly. No matter who has money, nor where he keeps it, in his box or till, or anywhere about him, 1 have only to speak the words, and it comes.' "The shaving was completed in silence, but thought had been busy in the barber's mind, and he embraced the speediest opportunity to transfer his bag of coin to the iron safe, in charge of the clerk. "The movement did not escape me, and immediately a joke was afoot. I had barely time to make two or three details of arrangements with the clerk, and resume my seat in the cabin, ere the barber sought a second interview, bent on testing the alleged powers of Beelzebub's colleague. " 'Beg pardon, Mr. Barnum, but where is my money? Can you get it?' " 'I do not want your money,' was the quiet answer. 'It is safe.' " 'Yes, I know it is safe — ha ! ha ! — it is in the iron safe in the clerk's office — safe enough from you !' "'It is not in the iron safe!' said I. This was said so quietly, yet positively, that the colored gentleman ran to the office, and inquired if all was safe. 'All right,' said the clerk. 'Open, and let me see,' replied the barber. The safe was unlocked, and lo ! the money was gone ! "In mystified terror the loser applied to me for relief. 'You will find the bag in your drawer,' said I, and there it was found !* Of course, I had a confederate, but the mystification of the mulatto was immense." Barnum's Museum was twice burned, and on its famous site the New York Herald Building stood for many years, after- ward torn down to make way for the St. Paul "sky scraper." M Henry Ward Beecher 59 HENRY WARD BEECHER HOW HE CAPTURED RICHMOND AJOR POND had booked Henry Ward Beecher for a lecture in Richmond, Va., for Jan, 23, 1877. Mr. Bond tells the story : "As we went aboard the sleeper at Baltimore a telegram was put into my hands which read as follows : '' 'Richmond, Va., Jan. 22 1877. " 'To J. B. Pond, Baltimore, Md. " 'No use coming. Beecher will not be allowed to speak in Richmond. No tickets sold. 'W. T. Powell/ "I at once replied: 'Have started. Mr. Beecher will be on hand to keep his contract.' I did not mention the incident to Mr. Beecher. "Just before our arrival in Richmond the following morning Mr. Powell came to me on the train and told me that the feel- ing against Mr. Beecher was so bitter that it would not do for him to attempt to speak ; that not a ticket had been sold, and he dared not advertise. "Mr. Beecher and I went direct to the Exchange Hotel, and as we registered our names I saw at once that there was a general disposition, from the hotel clerk down to the negro porter and the bell boy, to guy us. "We went down to breakfast, and the waiter and head waiter who seated us were disgustingly uncivil. Mr. Beecher made no remarks. We ate our breakfast, and as we passed out of the dining-room into a long hall we met a pretty little golden- haired child. Mr. Beecher, in his characteristic manner, stopped and began talking to and caressing the child, taking some candy from his pocket (he never was without bait for children), offered it, and was just getting into the little girl's favor when the mother came along and snatched her away, as though she were rescuing her from a fierce beast of prey. 6o Capital. Stories About Famous Americans "jMr. Eeecher walked quietly to his room. I left instruc- tions at the hotel office that no one was to knock at his door. Mr. Powell called and assured me that it would be all Air. Beecher's life was worth to attempt to speak in Richmond. I told him that I would let him off that night with his contract if he would rent me the theatre. He consented, and I at once g-ot out some bills and dodgers and advertised Mr. Beecher to speak that evening. The Legislature was in session, and passed an informal vote that none of them would go near the theatre. The Tobacco Board did the same. "Evening arrived, and I could get no one to attend the door, so I did it myself. Mr. Powell applied for an extra force of a dozen police, which was of no account, as they were wholly in sympathy with the crowd. "The Rev. Dr. Grey, the principal Presbyterian minister, and the head of a leading institution of learning in Richmond, wrote the chief of police that though he distinctly wished it to be understood that he did not indorse or favor Mr. Beecher's speaking in Richmond, he sincerely hoped that the threat to egg Mr. Beecher would not be carried into effect. As each member of the Legislature and the Tobacco Board knew that none of the other members would attend the lecture, each em- braced the opportunity to go ; and there, to their surprise, they all met. It was a crowd of men who made the best of the joke they had played upon themselves. They were hilari- ous and disrespectful. "The time came for me to go after Mr. Beecher. T had no door-tender, but the theatre was full of men, and my pockets were stuffed with dollars, so I left the door to take care of itself. I found him ready. While in the carriage on our way from the hotel to the theatre not a word passed between us, and during the day neither of us had spoken of the situation. When we arrived at the stage door of the theatre the dozen policemen were keeping the crowd back. As we alighted Henry Ward Beecher 6i from the carriage at the door, a general yell went up. We met Mr. Powell on the stage. He called me to one side and said: " 'Don't you introduce Mr. Beecher. The jailer}' is full of eggs. You will have trouble.' "I stepped into the waiting-room. ]\Ir. Beecher said : 'Go ahead ; I am ready.' And together we went out and took seats on the stage. "As we sat down, the vast crowd of men and the few Tadies in the gallery commenced to applaud, and some turbulent char- acters gave a regular rebel yell. I rose at last and introduced ]Mr. Beecher, merely saying that there was no act of my life that gave me such pleasure as introducing so great and good a man as Henry Ward Beecher. I sat down, and they went at it again. We speak of a man's rising to an emergency. He stood up there, in his old way, and let them yell until they got tired. He was to lecture on Hard Times, and his first words were that there was a law of God, a common and natural lay, that brains and money controlled the universe. He said, 'This law cannot be changed even by the big Vir- ginia Legislature, which opens with prayer and closes with a benediction.' As the legislators were all there in a body, the laugh went around. It was not five minutes before the house was clapping. Mr. Beecher talked two hours and a half to them, and of all the speeches that I ever heard that was the best one. He said, first, he would eulogize Virginia and the bravery of the men of the South, and then he would tell them just what they did that was wrong. In his peroration he eulogized Virginia as a commonwealth ; she who had bred her sons for Presidents ; how great she was, etc., etc. ; and got them all perfectly wrought up, and then he continued : 'But what a change when she came to breeding her sons for the market!' Then he would draw the terrible picture of slavery and its effects, and they had to sit quietly and take it all. 62 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans "After the lecture we left the theatre quickly, got into a car- riage and went clown to the hotel. When in his room, in a large chair in front of a blazing fire, he threw himself back, and laughingly said : " 'Don't you think we have captured Richmond ?' "He had no more than spoken when the door opened and a crowd of men came rushing in. My first impression was that it was a mob, as it did not seem that there had been time for them to come from the theatre ; but I was mistaken. "The foremost was a tall man with a slouch hat. (They were all in slouch hats.) He said: " 'Mr. Beecher, this is our 'Leftenant'-Governor. We have come to thank you for that great speech. This is our mem- ber for So-and-So, and this is Judge Harris,' and so on, in- troducing a score or more of prominent Virginians, who step- ped forward and grasped his hand. " 'Mr. Beecher, we want you to stay and speak for us to- morrow evening. We want our women to hear you,' etc. "Mr. Beecher was in his most happy humor. He shook the Virginians warmly by the liand. He told them that he was announced for Washington the following evening, and his time was all booked for the season. They offered to raise $500 if he would remain over. The following morning at seven o'clock many Virginians were at the station to see him off. All the morning papers contained extensive synopses of the lecture and favorable notices. "After that first appearance ]\Ir. Beecher spoke twice in Richmond to the choicest audiences that the old capital could turn out. I consider this the greatest lecture I ever knew Mr. Beecher to give." THE CAPTURE OF MANCHESTER IMr. Beecher gives this description of one of the most won- derful experiences of his life when he captured a hostile Henry Ward Beeciikr 6$ audience in Manchester, England, during the Civil War. He says : "When the day came on which I was to make my first speech, I struck out the notes of my speech in the morning; and then came up a kind of horror — I don't know whether I can do anything with an Enghsh audience — I have never had any experience with an EngHsh audience. My American ways, which are all well enough with Americans, may utterly fail here, and a failure in the cause of my country now and here is horrible beyond conception to me ! I think I never went through such a struggle of darkness and suffering in all my life as I did that afternoon. It was about the going down of the sun that God brought me to that state in which I said, 'Thy will be done. I am willing to be annihilated, I am willing to fail if the Lord wants me to.' I gave it all up into the liands of God, and rose up in a state of peace and of serenity simply unspeakable, and when the coach came to take me down to Manchester Hall I felt no disturbance nor dreamed of any- thing but success. "We reached the hall. The crowd was already beginning to be tumultuous, and I recollect thinking to myself as I stood there looking at them, 'I will control you ! I came here for victory and will have it, by the help of God !' W^ell, I was introduced, and I must confess that things that I had done and suffered in my own country, according to what the chairman who introduced me said, amazed me. The speaker was very English on the subject, and I learned that I belonged to an heroic band, and all that sort of thing, with abolitionism mixed in, and so on. By the way, I think it was there that I was introduced as the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher Stowe. But as soon as I began to speak the great audience began to show its teeth, and I had not gone on fifteen minutes before an un- paralleled scene of confusion and interruption occurred. No American that has not seen an English mob can form anv 64 Capital Stories About Famous Americans conception of one. I have seen all sorts of camp-meetings and experienced all kinds of public speaking on the stump ; I have seen the most disturbed meetings in New York City, and they were all of them as twilight to midnight compared with an English hostile audience. For in England the meeting does not belong to the parties that call it, but to whoever chooses to go, and if they can take it out of your hands it is considered fair play. This meeting had a very large multitude of men in it who came there for the purpose of destroying the meet- ing and carrying it the other way when it came to the vote. "I took the measure of the audience and said to myself, 'About one-fourth of this audience are opposed to me, and about one-fourth will be rather in sympathy, and my business now is not to appeal to that portion that is opposed to me nor to those that are already on my side, but to bring over the middle section.' How to do this was a problem. The ques- tion was, who could hold out longest. There were five or six storm centres, boiling and whirling at the same time ; here some one pounding on a group with his umbrella and shouting, 'Sit down there;' over yonder a row between two or three combatants ; somewhere else a group all yelling together at the top of their voices. It was like talking to a storm at sea. But there were the newspaper reporters just in front, and I said to them, 'Now, gentlemen, be kind enough to take down what I say. It will be in sections, but I will have it connected by-and-bye.' I threw my notes away, and entered on a dis- cussion of the value of freedom as opposed to slavery in the manufacturing interests, arguing that freedom everywhere in- creases a man's necessities, and what he needs he buys, and that it was, therefore, to the interest of the manufacturing community to stand by the side of labor through the country. I never was more self-possessed, and never in a more perfect good temper, and I never was more determined that my hearers should feel the curb before I got through with them. The Henry Ward Beecher 65 uproar would come in on this side and on that, and they would put insulting questions and make all sorts of calls to me, and 1 would wait until the noise had subsided, and then get in about nve minutes of talk. The reporters would get that down, and then up would come another noise. Occasionally I would see things that amused me, and would laugh outright, and the crowd would stop to see what I was laughing at. Then I would sail in again with a sentence or two. A good many times the crowd threw up questions which I caught at and answered back. I may as well put in here one thing that amused me hugely. There were baize doors that opened both ways into side-alleys, and there was a huge, burly Englishman standing right in front of one of those doors and roaring like a bull of Bashan ; one of the policemen swung his elbow around and hit him in the belly and knocked him through the doorway, so that the last part of the bawl was outside in the alleyway ; it struck me so ludicrously to think how the fellow must have looked when he found himself 'hollerinp;' outside that I could not refrain from laughing outright. The audience immedi- ately stopped its uproars, wondering what I was laughing at, and that gave me another chance and I caught it. So we kept on for about an hour and a half before they got so far calmed down that I could go on peaceably with my speech. They liked the pluck. Englishmen like a man that can stand on his feet and give and take ; and so for the last hour I had pretty clear sailing. The next morning every great paper in England had the whole speech down. I think it was the design of the men there to break me dov/n on that first speech, by fair means or foul, feeling that if they could do that it would be trumpeted all over the land. I said to them then and there, 'Gentlemen, you may break me down now, but I have registered a vow that I will never return home until I have been heard in every county and principal town in the Kingdom of Great Britain, I am not going to be broken down nor put down. I am going 66 Capital Stories About Famous Americans to be heard, and my country shall be vindicated.' Nobody knows better than I did what it is to feel that every interest that touches the heart of a Christian man and a patriotic man and a lover of liberty is being assailed wantonly, to stand be- tween one nation and your own, and to feel that you are in a situation in which your country rises or falls with you. And God was behind it all ; I felt it, and I knew it, and when I got through and the vote was called off you would have thought it was a tropical thunderstorm that swept through that hall as the ayes w^ere thundered, while the noes were an insignifi- cant and contemptible minority. It had all gone on our side, and such enthusiasm I never saw. I think it was there that when I started to go down into the rooms below to get an exit, that a big, burly Englishman in the gallery wanted to shake hands with me, and I could not reach him, and he called out, 'Shake my umbrella!' and he reached it over; I shook it, and as I did so, he shouted, 'By jock! nobody shall touch that umbrella again. J » HENRY BERGH AS DON QUIXOTE '"pHIS collection of stories concerning Henry Bergh, the -*- famous protector of animals from cruelty, was pub- lished some years since in McChircs Magazine by Clara Mor- ris. She gives an amusing account of her first meeting with Mr. Bergh: One day when I had been so long married that not more than two or three repetitions of my last name were required to attract my surprised attention, my Cockney parlor-maid, whose face flushed and whose tongue thickened curiously every after- noon, brought to me a card that startled m.e into reading aloud the name of "Mr. Henry Bergh." " 'Eavens !" cried the flushed Abigail. "I 'ope our 'Enery DANIEL WEBSTER BENJAMIN FRANKLIN JOHN JAMES AUDUBON PATRICK HENRY JOHN PAUL JONES AARON BURR I He;nry Bdrgh 69 hasn't done nothink to the 'osses ! But 'e's an' 'ard man, 's our 'Enery, ma'am." And with a manner flatly contradicting her expressed hope dehghtedly anticipating an immediate ar- rest, she proceeded to "show the gentleman up." Advancing to greet my caller, I stopped short. I held the card of Henry Bergh, but I saw the tall, gaunt form, the grave dignity of bearing, the hollow cheeks, the austere mouth, the piled-up brow — full two stories high — and the gentle eyes, sad to melancholy, of Cervante's Don Quixote ! I heard my own voice say low, "An incarnation." He paused in his grave obeisance, sensitive as mirror to a breath, and said, inquiringly, "I remind you of some one, then ?" And, my jesting devil being ever at my elbow, I swiftly an- swered, "Yes, you remind me of a friend, dear and valued, a certain country gentleman from la Mancha." At first he listened blankly, but at the word la Mancha pained recognition sprang into his eyes, and a slow, dull color crept into the hollow of his cheeks. Terrified by what I had done, I rushed on : "But you are a Don Quixote whose cour- age and enthusiasm are not wasted upon windmills. You have the happiness of really defending the oppressed and avenging the cruelly wronged, instead of only dreaming of it." And, absolute sincerity being easily recognized, he took my offered hand, and we were at peace. "Ah," he said, "you take a kinder and more gracious view of my resemblance to the absurd old Don than do the carica- turists of our papers." And I laughed back: "My good sir, do you really imagine the millennium has begun, that you expect a jest without malice, sarcasm without venom, the light, swift stroke of a keen rapier from the fist that only knows how to wield a bludgeon ?" From the last word he shrank uncomfortably, saying: "He 70 Cai'itai. Stories About Famous Americans wished the 'bludgeon' of the caricaturist were the only one in active use in the city;" but when he gravely and carefully explained to me that "he was not a millennialist, could not, in fact, comprehend that peculiar form of belief," I understood that a sense of the ludicrous would never endanger his life through excessive laughter. I was a hero-worshiper from away back, and to my mind this man, who was making such a fine fight for the helpless, was a hero. Therefore I was filled with a sort of reverent curiosity, and both eyes and ears were set wide open for the catching of any scrap of information anent the "why" and "how" of that fight; and behold, the first item I obtained was, that Mr. Bergh would talk of almost anything under heaven — admitting a strong preference for the theatre — save and ex- cept Mr. Bergh. That being the case, I carefully hoarded every casual re- mark, every stately compliment, every critical comment, every small confidence, every expressed hope of his, while my eager eyes were photographing features, poses, gestures, expressions, even half expressions. And now adding to these memories two or three anecdotes from one who knew and loved him well, I have my sole material for building up that trusted, honored, ridiculed, hated, and abused bundle of contradictions known as Henry Bergh. To begin with, he was by birth and breeding a gentleman, and that rare creature, an exceptionally tall man who, calmly unconscious of his height, moves with natural ease. A well- dressed man, too, showing a quiet, unostentatious taste in color and ornament, but such careful attention to good fitting and the small details of costume as made him seem especially well dressed. In his manner of grave and gentle dignity he could not have been excelled by any Spanish Don — the most courtly of men. His voice was gentle and low; his face, Quixote's face, long, pale, often immovable as a graven Henry Bergh 71 image, the piled-up brow crossed by a sort of dividing line ; his eyes light, clear, blue, and sad, while his brows had a trick of slowly lifting, now and then, that gave an expressible weari- ness to the face. Refined, intellectual, and cold, that was what he looked; and to myself I said, how deceptive must be the human face, for we are apt to associate self-sacrifice, generous devotion to another's welfare, with a certain warmth of heart, even of manner and expression, just as we associate a round, smiling face with good-humor, and more or less unconsciously we are given to the habit of judging others by ourselves. HOW BERGH GOT THE MONEY TO START THE SOCIETY FOR THE PREVENTION OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS In a hospital in New York City a man lay near to death — a Frenchman he was, whose business had been for many years that of a trapper and fur trader. Living among and dealing with the Indians, he had seen such cruelties practiced upon animals that memory was a horror to him. Either he had no family, or he had drifted away from it, for he was quite alone in his keen watch of approaching death. To lighten the heavy hours he looked at the pictures in magazine or paper, and noting the many so-called "comics" that Mr. Bergh was both subject and object of, he remarked one day to an attendant that "a white man with a pencil could be meaner than an Indian with a tomhawk," which led the attendant to speak of Mr. Bergh and his crusade at length to his interested listener, closing with a sigh and the remark that rumor said his work was greatly hampered by lack of funds. A night of thought, and then a note went forth from the hospital asking if Mr. Bergh would call upon a patient there, by name M. Bonnard. Surprised, but ever courteous, he went. The sick man described the horrors he had seen, and then expressed his joy that some one had risen up to show the 'J2 Capital Stories About Famous Americans world that animals had some rights that demanded recognition and respect. "You are cool and wise and determined. You will go far !" he cried. And Mr. Bergh quite frankly answered "he could not go much farther without help." "But," excitedly replied the trader, "I shall help you! I have not chased the dollar all these years without catching him — now and then. Mon ami, I am a lonely man. What is mine, is mine alone, to do with as I please, and raise outcry from no one. Only promise me that if you ever have the power to reach so far, you will extend your protection to the tormented wild things of the forest and plain, and what I have shall be at your service." And Mr. Bergh, thinking of some modest little sum from this lonely hospital patient, thanked him cordially, more for his words of appreciation and encour- agement than for the possibly future gift, which would proba- bly come too late to be of much service to the Society, and went his worried, anxious way. A few days passed, then, dazed and dazzled, he sat staring at a scrap of paper that held the trader's gift to him. M, Bon- nard was dead, but he had kept his word, and had helped the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals to the extent of nearly $115,000, or every cent he owned — a noble gift to a noble cause, with a touch of poetic justice about it, for from animals it came and to animals it returned. WHEN THE JOKE WAS ON BERGH IVIr, Bcrgh's sense of the ludicrous was conspicuous by its absence. If you have to dissect a joke to explain it, it is apt to bleed to death in the operation, and dead things are never funny. I never saw ]\Ir. Bergh recognize a joke, and he was too honest to pretend to see the point he was blind to; but after careful search I have found a man who will swear that He;nry Bergh 73" Mr. Bergh did see a joke once, one directed against himself^ and malicious though it was, he laughed right heartily. ^ A certain driver working for a wholesale firm in Vesey Street, gave much trouble by extravagantly overloading hi;-, horse. At last, finding himself so persistently watched, he be- gan to behave better, and the espionage was lightened, when lo, Mr. Bergh coming down town met this man with a load of boxes so high that heads were turning all along the line of pedestrians to stare at it. Instantly the long arm was raised and the familiar "Stop! You're overloaded!" was heard. "Why do you take advantage of my supposed absence to pile such a weight as that behind a horse?" asked Mr. Bergh sternly. "It ain't too much for him !" growled the driver. "Not too much?" cried Mr. Bergh. "Why, that load is almost two stories high ! Lighten it at once !" And somewhat to his surprise, without the usual blasphemous offers to fight before yielding, the man turned slowly, the boxes swaying dangerously at their giddy height, and, with the following crowd, drew up in front of the firm's building. Now, had Mr. Bergh been a closely observant man, he would have suspected such ready obedience, and would, too, have noted the malicious sparkle in the fellow's eye and the pucker of his tobacco- stained lips, but he noted nothing save the frightful height of the load. So the crowd looking on, hoping for a scrimmage, saw the man drop the restraining ropes and remove box after box. He paused, but Mr. Bergh, after a critical walk about the outfit, motioned him to go on and still further lessen the load. With a grin the man obeyed. The sidewalk was nearly covered with great cases, when Mr. Bergh called a halt, saying, "That will do ; the horse can move that load with safety." "He can that," replied the grinning driver. "He can move it without strainin' hissel' inside or out, for every box is impty !" 74 Capital Stories About Famous Americans Every soul in the crowd broke into laughter. As the Irish- man climbed to his place, the guardian of animals looked at the empty boxes and then at the sturdy horse, saw the joke, and joined right heartily in the laugh against himself. But he that laughs last laughs best, and the fun was not yet over; for ^Ir. Irishman, gathering up his reins, gave his cluck and loud "Git-up there !" all in vain. The horse turned his head, and giving Mr. Bergh one long, steady look, switched his tail, and stood stock still. The refusal to move that trifling load was utterly ludicrous, and some one yelled, "Look at the horse standin' in wid Bergh!" while another shouted, "Well, what kind of a beast would he be if he didn't like to back up a friend ?" and amid peals of laughter, Mr. Bergh himself took the animal's bridle and gave him a lead to start him, while the driver was pelted with hoots and jests till clear out of sight. TAKING THE COWS PART But it was in a certain incident occurring on Fourth Ave- nue and Twenty-second Street one morning, that Mr. Bergh's conduct was most like the conduct of the gentle and dignified Don from la Mancha, whom he so resembled in face and figure. Gloved, caned, perfectly gotten up, wath flowering buttonhole and all, he was walking briskly to his office, when from behind him he heard such frantic mooing from a cow as told plainly of suffering and wild excitement, and now and again the weaker sound of the half bleat, half bawl, of a verv vounp- calf. ' " He stopped, faced about, and saw a thick-set, sturdy man who, with the aid of a rope, resounding blows, and many oaths, dragged a struggling, protesting cow down the avenue, while, hunger-crazed and thirsty, a weak-kneed little calf stumbled along trying to keep up with the frantic mother. Nor was the cow's misery merely maternal excitement— she was suflfering cruelly. She was fevered, overweighted, her bag and udder Henry Bergh 75 so swollen, so distended that the milk dripped and trickled to the pavement as she moved, a condition, according to those who understand cattle, of excruciating pain. Hence Mr. Bergh to the rescue. He halted the man and asked "Why he did not allow the cow relief?" The man glowered stupidly, then sullenly repeated, "Re- lafe? Relafe? Relafe from what? I've druv' no finer cow thin that these five years !" "You know she suffers," went on Mr. Bergh, "and so does that calf — it's weak with hunger." The sulky drover was all the time keeping the small crea- ture away from the tempting milk. "Hungry, is it ?" he grunted. "Well, what of it? Sure, it's nothin' but a calf — it's no good !" "Well, the cow's some good, isn't she?" went on the inter- fering gentleman. "Why don't you ease her pain? Just look at those dripping udders ! It's shameful. Let the calf go to her !" But fairly dancing with rage the man refused, crying out that that condition would bring him a better bargain in selling the animal. Then Mr. Bergh declared officially, "This calf is going to — to — " Perhaps he did not know the technical term, or perhaps its sound was offensive — at all events, what he said was, "This calf is going to breakfast right here and now ! Tie the cow to this hydrant ! You won't ? Do you wish, then, to be arrested ?" and he showed his badge, and taking at the same moment the rope from the ugly, but now stupefied man, he himself led the cow to the corner and tied her with his own neatly gloved hands; and as the frantic moos had brought the neighbors to their windows, there were many laughing lookers-on at the unusual picture of an elegant and stately gentleman standing guard over a red cow with brass buttons on her horns, while her spotted baby calf began the 'jG Capitai, Stories About Famous Amiericans milk-storage business with such reckless haste that the white Huid drizzled from either side of its soft, pink mouth, and the mother meantime, not to waste the blessed opportunity, hastily but tenderly made its toilet. And though to the human eye she licked the hairs mostly the wrong way, the two most inter- ested seemed to be satisfied with the result. And there the tall man stood in patient, dignified waiting, while the enraged owner, with a few sympathizing male and female compatriots, made the air blue about them — stood, until at last baby-bossy let go and faced about, when two long, contented sighs, and the calmed glances of two pairs of big soft eyes told their protector his work was done and to their complete satisfaction. NO PERSONAL LOVE FOR ANIMALS Then Mr. Bergh, making a second call, came upon me at the close of a romp with my two small canine idols. That he did not notice their extreme rarity and beauty surprised me somewhat ; but when the largest — a three-pounder in weight — sprang upon the sofa, and laid a small, inquiring paw upon his knee, the man's whole body shrank away, and unmistaka- ble repulsion showed in every feature. Swiftly recalling that this man was striving earnestly to establish drinking places through the city for the heat-tortured dogs of the streets, I thought, "Oh, maybe, like many other men, he simply dislikes toys." So catching the little beast up in my arms, I said, "You don't like him. Is it, then, because he is so small ?" "No, no," he nervously replied, "it's not that, not its size at all, but I— I don't like dogs, Miss Morris !" Dumb with amazement, I stared a moment, then grabbed the other monster from her cushion, and carrying both to the next room, left them there, saying to myself the while, "Riddle ine this, and guess him if you can." And let me say right here. Albert J. Beveridge '^j that one who knew Mr. Bergh years to my days, who saw his sacrifices, saw his sufferings born in heroic defense of horses, tells me that never in his life did he see Mr. Bergh lay his hand upon a horse in caress, however slight — never saw him come to closer touch than by the taking hold of a bridle. ALBERT J. BEVERIDGE UNDER SUSPICION TOURING his trip to the Philippines, Albert J. Beveridge, ^~^ United States Senator from Indiana, stopped at the Jap- anese port of Nagasaki. Mr. Beveridge is only thirty-five years old, and so youthful-looking that he might easily pass for a col- legian of twenty-five. He went ashore at Nagasaki for a few hours. Nobody knew him, not even the Americans, as his coming had not been heralded. He walked about the town at his leisure and then visited the United States Consul. That official had been victimized a few weeks before by a young American visitor, who claimed to be a son of Senator Boise Penrose of Pennsylvania, and borrowed twenty dollars. The Consul had just learned that Senator Penrose had no son. "Good morning, Consul," exclainied Mr. Beveridge, hand- ing out his card. "I am Senator Beveridge of Indiana, and I have just dropped in to " "Look here, young man !" interrupted the Consul, "I am up to your little game, and you can't get a cent here ; do you understand ?" The Senator, first astonished and then indignant, began to protest; but the ludicrous side of the matter appealed to him so strongly that he picked up his hat and went away laughing. "Ha!" exclaimed the Consul, "they can't fool me more than once. I suppose the next thing will be some round-faced beggar trying to palm himself off on me as President Mc- Kinlev." ^8 Capital Stories About Famous Americans At the foot of the stairs, as luck would have it, an American officer recognized Mr. Beveridge. When the situation was ex- plained, the officer took the Senator back to the Consulate, and everything was made right over an elaborate dinner. MARY A. BICKERDYKE Cliy /rOTHER" BICKERDYKE was pre-eminently the ■^^ heroine of the Sanitary Commission during the Civil War in America. She gave herself body and soul to care for the sick and wounded private soldiers. Mrs. Livermore (to whom I am indebted for these stories, having selected them from a vast wealth of resources recorded in her My Story of the IVar), relates the following: "To them she was strength and sweetness; and for them she exercised sound, practical sense, a ready wit, and a rare intelligence, that made her a power in the hospital, or on the field. There was no peril she would not dare for a sick and wounded man, no official red tape of formality for which she cared more than for a common tow-string, if it interfered with her in her work of relief. To their honor, be it said, the 'boys' reciprocated her affection most heartily. 'That homely figure, clad in calico, wrapped in a shawl, and surmounted with a 'Shaker' bonnet, is more to this army than the Madonna to a Catholic !' said an officer, pointing to Mother Bickerdyke, as she emerged from the Sanitary Commission headquarters, in Memphis, laden with an assortment of supplies. Every sol- dier saluted her as she passed ; and those who were at leisure relieved her of her burden, and bore it to its destination. To the entire army of the West she was emphatically 'Mother Bickerdyke.' Nor have the soldiers forgotten her in her poverty and old age. They remember her to-day in many a tender letter, and send her many a small donation to eke out her scanty and irregular income." Mary A. Bickerdyku 79 MOTHER BICKERDYKE'S CURE FOR THIEVES After the battle of Jielmont, Mother Bickerdykc was ap- pointed matron of the large post hospital at Cairo, which was filled with the wounded. She found time, however, to work for, and to visit daily, every other hospital in the town. The surgeon who appointed her was skilful and competent, but given to drunkenness, and he had little sympathy with his patients. lie had filled all the positions in the hospitals with surgeons and officers of his sort, and bacchanalian carousals in the "doctor's room" were of frequent occurrence. In twenty-four hours Mother l>ickerdykc and he were at sword's points. She denounced him to his face; and, when the gar- ments and delicacies sent her for the use of the sick and wounded disappeared mysteriously, she charged their theft upon him and his subordinates. He ordered her out of his hospital, and threatened to put her out if she did not hasten her departure. She replied that "she should stay as long as the men needed her — that if he ])ut her out of one door she would come in at another; and if he barred all the doors against her, she would come in at the win- dows, and that the patients would help her in. When any- body left it would be he, and not she," she assured him, "as she had already lodged complaints against him at head- quarters." "Conscience makes cowards of us all ;" and he did not proceed to expel her, as he might have done, and probably would, if his cause had been just. But though she was let alone, this was not the case with her supplies for the sick and wounded — they were stolen con- tinually. She caught a wardmaster dressed in the shirt, slip- pers, and socks that had been sent her, and, seizing him by the collar, in his own ward, she disrobed him sans ceremonie before the patients. Leaving him nude save his pantaloons, she uttered this parting injunction : "Now, you rascal, let's see what vou'll steal next !" To ascertain who were the thieves 8o Capital Stories About Famous Americans of the food she prepared, she resorted to a somewhat dan- gerous ruse. Purchasing a quantity of tartar emetic at a drug store, she mixed it with some stewed peaches that she had openly cooked in the kitchen, teUing Tom, the cook, that "she wanted to leave them on the kitchen table overnight to cook" Then she went to her own room to await results. She did not wait long. Soon the sounds of suffering from the terribly sick thieves reached her ears, when, like a Nemesis, she stalked in among them. There they were, cooks, table- waiters, stewards, ward-masters, — all save some of the sur- geons, — suffering terribly from the emetic, but more from the apprehension that they were poisoned. "Peaches don't seem to agree with you, eh ?" she said, looking on the pale, retching, groaning fellows with a sardonic smile. "Well, let me tell you that you will have a worse time than this if you keep on stealing! You may eat something seasoned with ratsbane one of these nights." SEARCHING THE BATTLEFIELD AT MIDNIGHT After the battle of Donelson it was believed that all the wounded had been removed from the field, and the relief parties discontinued their work. Looking from his tent at mid- night, an officer observed a faint light flitting hither and thither on the abandoned battlefield, and, after puzzling over It for some time, sent his servant to ascertain the cause. It was Mother Bickerdyke, with a lantern, still groping among the dead. Stooping down, and turning their cold faces to- wards her, she scrutinized them searchingly, uneasy lest some might be left to die uncared for. She could not rest while she though any were overlooked who were vet living. "AUTHORITY FROM THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY" Three days after the battle of Shiloh, she was on the ground carrying system, order, and relief wherever she went. One Mary A. Bickerdykij 8i of the surgeons went to the rear with a wounded man, and found her wrapped in the gray overcoat of a rebel officer, for she had disposed of her blanket shawl to some poor fellow who needed it. She was wearing a soft slouch hat, having lost her inevitable Shaker bonnet. Her kettles had been set up, the fire kindled underneath, and she was dispensing hot soup, tea, crackers, panado, whiskey and water, and other refreshments to the shivering, fainting, wounded men. "Where did you get these articles?"' he inquired; "and under whose authority are you at work ?" She paid no heed to his interrogatories, and, indeed, did not hear them, so completely absorbed was she in her work of compassion. Watching her with admiration for her skill, ad- ministrative ability, and intelligence, — for she not only fed the wounded men, but temporarily dressed their wounds in some cases, — he approached her again : — "Madam, you seem to combine in yourself a sick-diet kitchen and a medical staff May I inquire under whose authority you are working?" Without pausing in her work, she answered him, "I have received my authority from the Lord God Almighty ; have you anything that ranks higher than that ?" The truth was, she held no position whatever at that time. She was only a "vol- unteer nurse," having received no appointment, and being at- tached to no corps of relief. MOTHER BICKERDYKE'S NIGHTGOWNS The ladies of the city and country were continually send- ing Mrs. Bickerdyke boxes of clothing for her own use. In her life of hard work, her clothes were soon worn out ; and as she never had time to bestow on herself, she was greatly in need of such kindnesses. Reserving for herself a few articles of which she had imperative need, she would take the re- mainder of her garments in her ambulance to the Southern 82 Capital Stories About Famous Americans women in the neighboring country, and peddled them for honey, fruit, milk, eggs, and butter, of which she never could have too much. Among the articles sent her at one time were two very elegant long night-dresses, embroidered, and trimmed with ruffles and lace. They were the gift of very dear friends; and she had some scruples about bartering them away as she did other garments. Returning with the "plunder" she had re- ceived in exchange for her superfluous clothing, she crossed a railroad track, on which stood a train of box cars. Stopping the ambulance, she began to explore them, according to her usual custom. Inside of one were two wounded soldiers going home on furlough. Their unhealed wounds were undressed, and full of vermin ; they were weak for lack of food, were depressed and discouraged, and in all respects were in a very sorry plight. "Humph !" said Mother Bickerdyke ; "now I see what them furbelowed nightgowns were sent down here for. The Lord meant I should put 'em to a good use, after all." The wounds of the poor fellows were washed and cleansed. Tearing off. bandages from the bottom of the night-dresses, she properly dressed and bandaged them. Socks, and drawers, and handkerchiefs were found in the ambulance; but she was entirely destitute of shirts. A happy thought came to her. "Here, boys," she said; "put on the upper half of these nightgowns; they're just the thing. My sakes! but that is lucky !" But to this the men decidedly objected. "They would wear the dirty, tattered shirts, that had not been changed in two months, rather than go home in a woman's nightgown !" "Oh, pshaw, boys! don't be fools!" persis'ted practical Mother Bickerdyke. "Nightgowns, or nightshirts ; what's the odds? These will be softer to your wounds; and Heaven knows they're enough sight cleaner. Put 'em on, and wear 'em Mary A. Bickerdyke; 83 home. If anybody says anything, tell them you've jerked 'em from the secesh, and the folks will think a heap sight more of you for it." The men were persuaded, and got into the nondescript garments. In passing through Chicago, they halted for a brief rest at the Soldiers' Home, where, when their wounds were dressed, their outer shirts were discovered, marked in indelible ink, with Mrs. Bickerdyke's name. We offered to exchange them for genuine hospital shirts; but the men had had such sport already, that they clung to the abbreviated nightgowns, one of which is to-day preserved in a Wisconsin household as a sacred relic. MOTHER BICKERDYKE AT A WEDDING Late in 1862, Mrs. Bickerdyke was compelled to take a hrief furlough, and went direct to Chicago to the home of Mrs. Livermore. Her hostess was not at home when she ar- rived, but returned that evening. "Norwegian Martha," who had presided over her kitchen for years, and who had never before seen Mother Bickerdyke, informed her of the new arrival in characteristic style. "Another one more of them nurse woman have come with some carpet-bag," Martha said. (The nurses sent by the Com- mission into the service had made my house a sort of head- quarters as they passed through the city, a proceeding greatly ■disapproved by Martha.) "This one have no afraid to do any- thing, and have make herself to take a bath, and have put her- self to bed till supper time. She say she have very many hundred miles rode, and very many aU-shot-tip" — shot to pieces — "soldiers to take care of, and she be got awful tired, and, poor woman, she look seek (sick). But she have make me to think of my poor mother, what make herself to die in Norway with so much work too hard, before to this country I come. I like this nurse woman what have come more than 84 Capital Stories About Famous Americans the rest that stayed away." The influence of Mother Bicker- dyke's great maternal heart was felt everywhere. Mrs. Livermore continues the story of the evening as follows : "After tea, I accompanied my family to the wedding of a friend, which was solemnized in a church near by. Wearied as Mother Bickerdyke was, she insisted on making one of the company. She believed it would rest her to see the inside of a meeting-house; it was a sight that had not blessed her eyes for eighteen months, she said. It was an intensely tedious ceremony; for the old clergyman who officiated at the mar- riage added to a very long prayer, a Scripture reading and a full half-hour's exhortation to good living, with directions for accomplishing it, which he counted ofT, firstly, secondly,, tliirdly, and so on. It was a sermon, in fact. After the mar- riage, the newly-wedded halted for a few moments in the church parlor, to take leave of their friends, as they were to proceed directly to the train, en route for the distant city of their future residence. Mother Bickerdyke was introduced, at her request; for she had learned that the young husband held the rank of major in one of the Illinois regiments. " 'My dear,' said our motherly heroine in a naive way to the bride, 'I have enjoyed your wedding very much; it has done me as much good as a prayer-meeting. I am very much re- freshed by it.' (She had slept through the interminable service.) "I am sure you will make your husband a good wife, for you have got the face of a good girl; and I hope you and he will live together a good many years. If he gets wounded in battle, and falls into my hands, I will try to take good care of him for you.' " 'Why, Mother Bickerdyke ! Ck)d bless you ! I am glad to see you !' burst out the bridegroom, with a mighty welcome. 'You have already taken care of me. After the battle of Donelson I was brought up on one of the boats filled with "stonewall" JACKSON PHILIP HENRY SHERIDAN ROBERT E. LEE ALEXANDER H. STEVENS GEORGE A. CUSTER Mary A. Bickerdyke; 87 wounded men, and you took care of me, as you did of the rest, like a mother. Don't you remember a heutenant who had a minie-ball in his leg; and the doctors wanted to amputate the leg, and he fought against their doing it, and how you helped him keep it? I am the man. Here's the old leg, good as new. I have been promoted since.' But she could not re- call his case among the thousands more seriously wounded whom she had since carefully nursed." THE SOLDIER'S BUCKET OF EGGS With the medical authorities she was for a time at variance. The medical director at Memphis was a young man belonging to the regular army — able, industrious, skilful, and punctilious. He wished Mrs. Bickerdyke to revolve in an orbit he marked out for her — to recognize him as the head, and never to go beyond him, or outside him, for assistance or authority. Moreover, he was a Catholic, and naturally gave the prefer- ence to the excellent "Sisters of Mercy" as nurses; nor was he backward in publicly expressing his preference. He dis- approved of Mrs. Bickerdyke's laundry ; chiefly, it seemed, because he had not organized it. He did not approve of her contraband help, nor of her possessing so much power; nor, if the truth must be told, of Mother Bickerdyke herself. He could not see any excellence in a woman who worked with her own hands, who held no social position, who was as in- different to the Queen's English as to his red-tape, who cared little for the Catholic, but very much for the Congregational Church, and who did what she wished, when and as she wished, without consulting him, the medical director. Mrs. Bickerdyke cared little for what he said or thought, if he did not meddle with her ; for she was no more in love with the medical director than he was with her. He inspected her hospital regularly, and never found fault with it ; for its per- fect management defied criticism. Once, in passing through 88 Capiivm. Stories About Famous Americans a ward, he espied some half-dozen eggs under a sick man's pillow. The man was recovering from a fever, and had a great craving for food, that could not be allowed him in his weak condition. Especially, he coveted boiled eggs; and, as the poor fellow was very babyish, Mrs. Bickerdyke had petted him in her motherly way, and tucked half a dozen hard boiled eggs under his pillow, telling him he should have them to eat when he was well enough. The sick man found a vast deal of comfort in fondling the eggs with his hands. I have seen men in hospitals handling half a dozen potatoes under their pillows in the same way. The medical director espied the eggs, and ordered them to the kitchen, declaring "he would have no hens' nests under the pillows." The man was just weak enough to cry miserably over his loss ; and the nurse in charge hastened to report the story to Mother Bickerdyke. If any unnecessary offense came to her boys, woe to him through whom it came. She would have "shown fight" to Secretary Stanton himself, if he had been the offender. Catching up a large pail filled with eggs, she strode into the ward, her blue eyes blazing, her cheeks glowing: "Doctor , will you tell me what harm it does to humor a sick man in an innocent fancy ? Let this boy have the eggs where he can see them. There, John, there's a whole pail full of eggs," push- ing them under the bed ; "and you may keep them there until they hatch, if you've a mind to." And she strode out again. Ihe doctor chose not to hear, and the boy's eggs were not meddled with again. HOW SHE PACIFIED THE DOCTOR A hospital doctor in Alemphis was in a great fury with her, and threatened that "he would send her home before she was a week older." "But I shan't go, doctor !" she answered. "I've come down Mary A. Bickerdyke 89 here to stay, and I mean to stay until this thing is played out. I've enlisted for the war, as the boys have, and they want me and need me, and can't get on without me ; and so I shall stay,, doctor, and you'll have to make up your mind to get along with me the best way you can. It's of no use for you to try to tie me up with your red tape. There's too much to be done down here to stop for that. Nor is there any sense in your getting mad because I don't play second fiddle to you ; for I tell you I haven't got time for it. And. doctor, I guess you hadn't better get into a row with me, for whenever anybody does one of us two always goes to the wall, and 'tain't never me !" The doctor had a keen sense of the ridiculous, and Mother Eickerdyke's novel method of pacification amused him when he got over his short-lived anger. He was really a very superior officer; but like many another clever man he was dominated by the inborn belief that all women were to play "second fiddle" to him. He had the good sense to appreciate blunt Mother Eickerdyke's excellence, and when mutual friends entered on the work of pacification they were successful. Turning to her one day, in a threatening way, but half jocularly, he said, "Take care, madam ; your turn to go to the wall may come yet!" "May be so!" was her brief answer ;^ and then she went on with her work. From being at disa- greement, +hey finally came to a perfect understanding, and by and by became the best of friends. OUTRANKING SHERMAN She had had a surgeon dismissed for outrageous conduct. The dismissed surgeon went to General Sherman to complain of the injustice done him. "He had been grossly belied, and foul charges had been made against him, which he could prove false," was his declaration. "Who was your accuser?" asked General Sherman ; "who made the charges ?" "Why — why — I suppose," said the surgeon reluctantly, "it was that spiteful 90 Capital Stories About Famous Americans old woman, Mrs. Bickerdyke." "Oh, well, then," said Sher- man, "if it was she, I can't help you. She has more power than I — she ranks me." MOTHER BICKERDYKE'S SERMON TO THE LANDLORD On one occasion while she was on a visit to Chicago after supplies, she made several visits to the families of soldiers whom she had left in the hospitals. She found one of these families in great distress and poverty. The husband and father had been in positions for ten months that removed him be- yond reach of the paymaster; and his family were in great need of the money which he failed to receive. They were owing six months' house rent; and the landlord, a hard man, had served a writ of ejectment upon them, and was preparing to put them summarily into the street. Mother Bkkerdyke paid him a visit at his office, and sought to turn him from his purpose with all the peculiar eloquence of which she was mis- tress. He could not be moved, but scorned her and ordered lier from his premises. She rose to go, and, taking a Bible from the shelf, which was never used except to give legality 1o oaths, she opened to the sixteenth chapter of Luke, and, straining to her full height, with a solemn and almost terrible face, she read these words before an audience of a dozen or more men. — " 'And it came to pass that the beggar died, and was car- ried by angels into Abraham's bosom. The rich man also died and was buried, and in hell— in hell— in hell,"— increasing the emphasis each time—" 'he lifted up his eyes, being in tor- ments, and saw Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom.' You see what you are coming to, sir," she added, "and the time may not be far off. :May God have mercy on your mean soul ! Good-bye." Then the resolute woman sought another house for the soldier's family, and rested not until she had raised the money to pay the rent six months in advance. Mary A. Bickerdyke 91 GETTING THE BEST OF SHERMAN When General Sherman was preparing Chattanooga as his base for the Atlantic campaign, he had issued an order forbidding the agents of sanitary stores to go over the railroad from Nashville to Chattanooga. Mother Bickerdyke got a pass from General Grant that took her anyhow, and soon stood at General Sherman's headquarters. "Hallo! Why, how did you get down here?" asked one of the General's staft officers, as he saw her enter Sherman's headquarters. "Came down in the cars, of course, there's no other way of getting down here that I know of," replied the matter-of- fact woman. "I want to see General Sherman." "He is in there, writing," said the officer, pointing to an inner room ; "but I guess he won't see you." "Guess he will," and she pushed into the apartment. "Good morning, General ! I want to speak to you a moment. May I come in?" "I should think you had got in !" answered the General^ barely looking up, in great annoyance. "What's up now?" "Why, General," said the earnest matron, in a perfect tor- rent of words, "we can't stand this last order of yours, no- how. You'll have to change it as sure as you live. We can get along without any more nurses and agents, but the supplies we must have. The sick and wounded men need them, and you'll have to give permission to bring them down. The fact is. General, after a man is unable to carry a gun, and drops out of the lines, you don't trouble yourself about him, but turn him over to the hospitals, expecting the doctors and nurses to get him well and put him back again into the service as soon as possible. But how are we going to make bricks without straw? Tell me that if you can." "Well, I'm busy to-day, and cannot attend to you, I will see you some other time." But though Sherman kept on 92 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans writing, and did not look up, Mother Bickerdyke saw a smile lurking in the corner of his mouth, and knew she would carry her point. So she persisted. "No, General ! Don't send me away until you've fixed this thing as it ought to be fixed. You had me assigned to your corps, and told me that you expected me to look after the nursing of the men who needed it. But I should like to know how I can do this if I don't have anything to work with? Have some sense about it now. General !" There was a hearty laugh at this, and a little badinage ensued, which Mother Bickerdyke ended in her brusque way, with, "Well, I can't stand fooling here all day. Now, General, write an order for two cars a day to be sent down from the Sanitary Commission at Nashville, and I'll be satisfied." The order was written, and for weeks all the sanitary stores sent from Nashville to Chattanooga, and the posts along that road, were sent directly or indirectly through this mediation of jMother Bickerdyke. THE OLD SOmiER'S FRIENDS ]Many years after the Avar, Mother Bickerdyke came to Massachusetts for a brief visit with her old friends. She arrived at the home of Mrs. Livermore at the close of a dis- mally rainy day, wet and exhausted. She had spent the day in Boston, searching for an old soldier from Illinois, who had served out three terms in the House of Correction, for drunk- enness, during the last ten years. Mrs. Livermore remon- strated. She said to her: "My dear friend, why do you, at the age of seventy-three, waste yourself on such a worthless creature as that?" Turning to her hostess with a flash in her blue eyes, she answered: "Mary Livermore, I have a commission from the Lord God Almighty to do all I can for every miserable creature who comes in my way. He's always sure of two friends— God and me !" Joseph C. S. Blackburn JOSEPH C. S. BLACKBURN LOCKJAW HIS ONLY DANGER OENATOR JOSEPH C. S. BLACKBURN has a record of ^^ indefatigable service in the Confederate Army. He never shirked a duty and is properly proud of that fact; but once some of his friends made an unsuccessful attempt to shirk a duty for him. In 1863, while Blackburn was a captain wearing a Con- federate uniform, he was ordered to the Red River Bottoms, and all of his friends objected to that destination for popular "Young Joe," as he was then called. One old friend of the family, who had known Joe Black- burn from his babyhood, rushed off after Doctor — afterward Governor — Blackburn, Joe's elder brother, and urged him to use his influence to have the order rescinded. "What for?" asked the Doctor. "Why, Doc, haven't you heard how the yaller fever's a-ragin' down there?" "Oh, well, Yellow Jack won't hurt Joe." The family friend then became diplomatic, and, instead of arguing any more about the yellow fever, he said : "But, Doc, there's the swamp fever carryin' off our Johnnies like flies. A man wakes up well in the morning and is dead by noon. It would be a downright shame to expose Joe to such danger." But Doctor Blackburn still shook his head and said: "I will not interfere with Joe's orders on any such trivial grounds." "Trivial grounds !" shouted the angry friend. "Do you call absolutely fatal diseases 'trivial grounds' ?" "Fatal diseases!" sneered Doctor Blackburn. "You ought to know as well as I do, man, that no disease could possibly prove fatal to Joe Blackburn, except lockjaw." Capital Stories About Famous Americans JAMES G. BLAINE HELPING OUT MEMORY THE memory of James G. Blaine for names and faces," said former Speaker David B. Henderson, "was famed in story if not in song. I had an experience with Mr. Blaine on one occasion, which it will do no hami to tell. "In 1882 I was Secretary of the Republican Congressional Committee, and boarded at Wormley's Hotel in Washington. In those days that was a famous place for Republicans, and the register showed the names of Blaine, Conkling, Morton, Logan, Edmunds and others of that calibre. "Mr. Blaine frequently passed and repassed me, when one morning as I came from breakfast I noticed that he eyed me closely. About half past one o'clock, as I was entering the hotel for lunch, Mr. Blaine came out. He stopped in front of me and asked : 'Are you not Colonel Henderson of Iowa ?' I replied that I was Henderson, and then Blaine 'said: " 'I thought this morning that I ought to know you ; but was not absolutely sure. I met you five years ago in Detroit when we were guests of General Alger. You made a great speech to the old soldiers that day,' and then he went on, showing a remarkable memory of me and knowdedge of my entire career. I thanked him, and after he was gone entered the dining-room and sent for the head-waiter, to whom I said : " 'I want you to tell me exactly what Mr. Blaine said about me this morning.' The waiter replied earnestly : " 'Mistah Blaine didn't say nothin' ag'in' you, Kunnel Hen- dahson. He o'ly asked me what youah name was ; an' w'en I done tole him, he said as how you was a mighty fine gen'leman, sah.' "And thus was Mr. Blaine's marvelous memory of names and faces explained to me, at least for that time. I am some- thing of a politician myself." Edwin Booth 95 EDWIN BOOTH A PRINCE OF "DEAD-HEADS" THE late Edwin Booth and Lawrence Barrett were close personal friends of Stuart Robson, Robson often enter- tained his distinguished colleagues at his summer home on Long Island. On one such occasion, the trio, after dinner, took their seats on the piazza, when Booth, as usual, lapsed into silent reverie, while the others began to relate stories anent professional experiences. Finally, the conversation turned to "dead-heads." Robson had just finished an especially funny tale about one of these managerial bete noirs when the deep voice of Booth was heard, thus : — "I think, gentlemen, that I can give you an anecdote about one of the tribe that is probably unique." "Let's hear it Edwin, by all means," said Barrett. Booth fixed his sombre eyes on the sunset, and began : "It was during the first visit that I made to the South after the close of the Civil War. We were playing in a little town in Alabama. In my mail, one morning, I found a letter which ran something like this : — '' 'Dear Sir :— " 'My wife and self have always been great admirers of you. We want to see you play, very much, but cannot afiford to buy our tickets. Will you please send us a couple of seats ? I am sure you will not refuse this request when I tell you that I am the United States soldier that shot and killed your brother, who assassinated President Lincoln.' "I investigated, and found that the man's statement was correct." Booth's auditors gasped as his tragic tones boomed out the unexpected sequel to the tale. There was a dead silence for a full minute. Then Robson managed to ask : — "What did you do, Edwin?" gS Capital Stories About Famous Americans "T sent him the tickets," answered the actor, his eyes still fixed on the glowing western horizon. The gruesome recital had been made without a trace o£ emotion, for a deepening of the gloom which marked Booth's facial expression from the day of the tragedy. Robson told the writer that the actor unquestionably realized that, if his brother had succeeded in reaching Washington alive, he would have met a terrible fate at the hands of the mob, and hence he felt grateful to the man who, with a rifle ball, averted this pos- sibility — of the two tragic ends he chose the latter. WILLIAM J. BRYAN THE GREATEST WORD TDHOCIAN HOWARD says: "One day while conversing -*- with William J. Bryan, I asked him what he considered the greatest word in the English language. " 'Contentment,' he said, before I could catch a breath. " 'This world is full of discontented men. Even some of the rich are not contented. The man who has contentment has the best gold that is to be secured in life. " 'Contentment is given to every man, but most men drive it away in the mad rush to gain things that are beyond their reach. The man who can be contented with what he has is the man who finds all that life is worth living for.' "When Bryan was nominated for President of the United States in 1896, all the money he had in the world was $106.25. Yet he was contented. If he had never been nominated, he would have been just as happy. He told me that he never ex- pected to receive the nomination, that it was his intention, when the Convention was over, to return to Nebraska, and devote his life to his family and his farm. 'But as long as I am called to fight for the people, that will be my main object in life,' he said." A^ Aaron Burr 97 AARON BURR THE MAGNETISM OF AARON BURR S A VERY small child, Rebecca Harding Davis was brought indirectly into touch with Aaron Burr, through a little, withered old woman who taught the children of the village their A B C's. The queer, homely body was like a smothered fire, full of ideas foreign to the humdrum little town, or her poor dame's school. "She had been," says Mrs. Davis, "the only child of one of the foremost men of the country, and when she was a girl of sixteen was made the head of his house in Philadelphia, and had for her daily guests Washington and Franklin and the lesser political leaders. Her father was one of Burr's most relentless opponents. He went to Richmond, with all the rest of the world, to the trial of the arch traitor, taking his daugh- ter with him. They were quartered at the hotel. "When Burr was released, before the trial began, he called upon all the leading ladies of the town, among the rest upon the daughter of his chief enemy. Every morning thereafter he sent her a basket of choice roses. She had been taught to loathe and despise Burr and Benedict Arnold and Judas Iscariot alike, as brother traitors. But the roses and the man himself soon changed her, " 'When the trial opened,' she told me, 'the best people of the country were in that old house. Burr's adherents were ranged on one side of the court-room, his enemies on the other. My dear, every woman there sat on Burr's side !' "'And you ?' "Her brilliant eyes blazed under their white lashes, 'I was on the foremost row ! My father saw me and came down from his place and led me back to the hotel. He was white with anger. He locked me in my room and kept me 98 Capital Stories About Famous America^^s there while the trial lasted. Fathers did such things in those days. I could do nothing for my new friend but pray for him, and I did it for days with cries and tears. How T hated the traitors who gave evidence against him — the friends he had trusted! For I believed Aaron Burr to be an innocent man and a great hero.' She lowered her voice and glanced around cautiously. 'And, my child, there are times when I believe it still !' "Which was treason," adds Mrs Davis, in telling the story to her friends, "for pretty Kitty had married the man whose testimony had almost sent Burr to the gallows." JOHN BURROUGHS THE BEGINNINGS OF A NATURALIST TJEO BENNETT relates this incident of a visit to John -*-^ Burroughs, the famous naturalist: We found him swinging in a hammock ; and, as we ap- proached, he rose to meet us, with the easy grace of a man who has in his day met many people. He bade us be seated on a rug spread out on a grassy bank beside the hammock, and his dogs, fearing that their master's greeting lacked some- what in cordiality, leaped and tumbled over us till we felt like old members of the family and made so bold as to shout, "Lie down !" He then told us, by way of starting conversation, how he and Laddie, a beautiful collie, a dog that could go after the cows, and, unassisted, bring the whole fifty-eight of them right to the barn, — how he and Laddie were walking in the pasture one afternoon, when bull, an arrogant fellow, roared a chal- lenge over the wall to either one of them. "Well, we fixed him, didn't we, Laddie?" And Laddie's answer with bark and tail bade me to believe that there must be a good joke on the bull between master and dog-. John Burroughs 99 He told us of a humming bird that had built a nest in a small apple tree just under his window, and how he had watched her and her eggs, and how, one day, when he looked in the nest, one egg was gone, and careful inspection revealed a black, hairless mass the size of a little finger nail that proved to be a newly hatched bird, and then how the second egg hatched, and the mother with her long needle-like bill fed them, and finally, one day flew away. The story, had it been of hair-raising adventure and narrow escapes, could not have held its audience better. Then he spoke of a certain boy, Jay Gould by name, who sat behind him in the small, red schoolhouse, when he learned the rule of three. "John and Jay," said an old fellow who attended the same school, "were not like the other boys. They learned their lessons easier, somehow or other, and at recess, instead of joining in the games, leaned against the side of the schoolhouse and looked on. John always knew where to find the largest trout; he could show you birds' nests, and name all the flow- ers. He was fond of reading, and would walk five miles to borrow a book. But then he was a lazy fellow on the farm. I guess he is yet, for that matter. John Burroughs is all right, though, and Roxbury is proud of the fact that it can claim him. We celebrated 'Burroughs Day' instead of Arbor Day here last spring, in the high-schoolhouse, in honor of him." After J\Ir. Burroughs left the school, he attended an academy for a short time. It was there, he says, that he saw an author for the first time. "I distinctly remember with what emotion I gazed upon him," he said, "and followed him about in the twilight, keep- ing on the other side of the street. He was of little account, — a man who had failed as a lawyer, and then had written a his- tory of Poland, which I have never heard of since that time; loo Capital Stories About Famous Americans but to me he was the embodiment of the august spirit of authorship, and I looked upon him with more reverence and enthusiasm than I had ever before looked upon any man. I cannot divine why I should have stood in such worshipful fear and awe of this obscure individual, but I suppose it was the instinctive tribute of a timid and imaginative youth to a power he was just beginning to see, — or to feel, — the power of letters." He says, in the latest edition of his famous work: "My first book, Wake Robin, was written while I was a govern- ment clerk in Washington. It enabled me to live over again the days I had passed with the birds, and in the scenes of my youth. I wrote the book while sitting at a desk in front of an iron wall. I was the keeper of a vault in which many millions of bank-notes were stored. During my long periods of leisure, I took refuge in my pen. How my mind reacted from the iron wall in front of me, and sought solace in memories of the birds and of summer fields and woods !" BENJAMIN F. BUTLER •THE LATE UNPLEASANTNESS" EVERY one is familiar with- the term, "the late unpleas- antness," as denoting the war between the States, but there are few who know that it was coined by none other than the late General Benjamin F. Butler. The late Dr. A. Y. P. Garnett, of Washington, used to tell the story some- what as follows : At a dinner given in Washington by Caleb Gushing shortly after the war. General Butler and Doctor Garnett were in- vited guests. Doctor Garnett was detained by his professional duties and did not come in until late. When he entered the dining-room General Butler was speaking, and, by way of contributing to the general good humor of the evening, the Joseph G. Cannon ioi Union General took occasion, in the course of his remarks to refer to the war as "the late rebellion.*' Doctor Garnett, who was then one of the leading physicians of Washington, had been Surgeon-General of the Confederate army and private physician to Jefferson Davis. Unless Robert Toombs, of Georgia, might be excepted, there was never a more unreconstructed rebel than Doctor Garnett. When the ex-Confederate heard General Butler's remark he was on his feet in an instant. "There was no rebellion, sir !" he cried. "There was no one to rebel against. We were free-born American citizens, fighting for what we thought was right. Fate was against us and we surrendered in good faith. I permit no man to say in my presence that we were rebels." General Butler bowed. "I regret extremely having given oft"ense to a fellow-guest," he said, smiling. "If I may be per- mitted by my host and by Doctor Garnett I will withdraw my epithet. Instead of the rebellion we will call it the late un- pleasantness." Doctor Garnett's keen sense of humor rose to the occasion, and he smiled, in spite of himself, at General Butler's adroit- ness. JOSEPH G. CANNON HOW "UNCLE JO" LOST THE SENATORSHIP AFTER Joseph G. Cannon had been defeated in the contest -^^ for the Senatorship from Illinois, the crops of Wash- ington correspondents gathered en masse at his hotel to inter- view him. There were many veiled allusions as to what had happened in the Illinois legislature, and finally one of the cor- respondents mustered up courage to ask him outright: — "Now, Uncle Jo, tell us just why you were defeated?" The other correspondents looked aghast at their colleague. 102 Capital Stories About Famous Amkricans Mr. Cannon seized the inquirer by the arm, led him away from the group, and then, leaning close to his ear, whispered in a stage tone that could be heard throughout the small hotel cor- ridor, "I didn't have votes enough." The roar of laughter had hardly subsided when Representa- tive Rodenberg, at one time a member of the United States Civil Service Commission and now Representative-elect to Con- gress, declared : — "I'll tell you the truth, boys. Cannon got to be too much of an aristocrat for his farmer legislators." The assertion was received with surprise by those who knew Mr. Cannon so well for his democratic manner of wear- ing his clothes and appearing on the floor of the house as well as in his committee room at the capitol, and the affable and hearty way which he has of meeting his friends with a slap on the back and a hearty laugh. "It's true," urged Rodenberg, "I heard him make a speech in the caucus, and there he was shouting 'either' and 'neither' and sounding the 'ei' in that long accented way so affected, it is popularly believed out in Illinois, only by aristocrats. I knew that Cannon's race was lost." A DEAL IN OVERCOATS Joseph G Cannon, Speaker of the House of Representa- tives, is not as careful about the details of his dress as some other members of Congress. Since his elevation to his present position he has paid more attention to his apparel than he did when he was merely one of the many on the floor, but even now he forgets sometimes to the extent of leaving a few inches of waistcoat unbuttoned or a cravat crawling up to his ear instead of keeping under his chin. A few days before Con- gress adjourned, he appeared in a brand new suit, the fit and general style of which indicated the work of a finished and up- to-date tailor. This had the effect of reviving a story of the old Joseph G. Cannon 103 days when he did not even dream, perhaps, of occupying the seat made notable by Crisp and Reed. "Uncle Joe," as he is familiarly called, has always been economical, and firmly be- lieves that a dollar saved is a dollar earned. One of his methods of laying up money along these lines used to be to buy ready-made clothing, and to pay not more than fifteen dollars for a suit or an overcoat. The result was sometimes too marked to be altogether acceptable to the members of his family, and ultimately his daughters worked out a plan which they thought would solve all the various problems involved. The scheme was simply to go to the clothing store where their father traded, deposit a certain sum of money with the pro- prietor, and instruct him to bring out his best stock when his distinguished customer called, but to say or do nothing that would give him a hint that the clothing displayed for his in- spection was not his favorite fifteen-dollar grade. Then, if he chanced to select a suit worth forty-five dollars, he paid his fifteen dollars, and the remaining thirty dollars was taken from the amount deposited by his daughters. All went well until some of the neighbors were let into the secret. One day "Uncle Joe" came proudly down the street wearing a hand- some new overcoat for which he had just paid fifteen dollars, but for which the storekeeper had also deducted an additional thirty-five dollars from the trust fund. A friend who had be- come acquainted with the modus operandi of the deal met him and expressed excessive admiration for the new garment. "Yes, it's a fine coat," said Mr. Cannon. "Only cost me fifteen dollars, too." "You don't say !" was the friend's response. "Why, I'll give you twenty-five dollars for it !" "Uncle Joe" remembered that while at the store he had seen several coats exactly like his, which the salesman had told him were held at the same price, and not being averse to picking up ten dollars with so little effort, said, "I'll go you." 104 Capital Stories About Famous Americans The exchange was quickly effected. While walking- on to- wards his office, "Uncle Joe" met one of his daughters. She scolded him for exposing himself to the weather without an overcoat, and, thereupon, he told her the story of his recent deal. Then he sauntered on to the store and purchased another coat like the first for fifteen dollars. "You don't know your business," he said to the tailor, as he related the sale of the first garment ; "you're selling these coats too cheap." "I think you'd make a better tradesman than a politician," said the tailor, in reply. But the grizzled wielder of the nation's gavel did not see the joke until, some time later, his daughter told him the secret. HOW "UNCLE JO" BROKE WITH THE QUAKERS Tradition has it that Cannon's break with the Society of Friends occurred many years ago, when an influential member came to expostulate with him on his marriage with one of the world's people. "Friend Joseph," said his venerable visitor, "thee knows what the good Book says about being unequally yoked with unbelievers. The Friends everywhere feel much distressed over thy rash step, and hope that mature thought will bring thee to a better frame of mind, and that thee will say as much at the next meeting." To this excellent person's astonishment. Friend Joseph, in- stead of receiving his admonition with becoming meekness of spirit, opened a rhetorical crater long supposed extinct, and in slow and measured periods put forth some of the carnal man's most unprintable language. He concluded with the declara- tion: "If you mean that I am to get up in meeting and say I'm sorry I married Mary, I won't do it. I'm not sorry, and I won't say that I am !" This ended the interview, and launched the young lawyer as a full-armored worldling. Andrew Carnegie; 105 USED TO CRITICISM One day the late Colonel Macdonald, Commissioner of Fisheries, came before the Committee to explain his estimates, and was riddled with interrogatories by the Chairman, as usual. The next morning a yellow journal published a sensa- tional attack on the administration of the Fish Commission, and the Senate voted to have an investigation. The Commis- sioner, an honest man unused to this sort of treatment, be- came terribly alarmed lest these incidents should affect the temper of the House Committee on Appropriations. After a sleepless night he sought Cannon and made a clean breast of his fears. With no change of countenance. Cannon asked : "When you were before our Committee, you told us what you needed for the coming year, and why you needed it, didn't you ?" "Yes." "Did we tell you you couldn't have it?" "No." "Then go home and take your full night's rest in comfort. We base our appropriations on our own judgement, not on newspaper attacks. Why, my good friend" — his face relaxing into a broad smile as he laid his hand on Colonel Macdonald's shoulder — "I've got to such a point that if I go through a week without being caricatured or lampooned, I really miss it. I feel as if I must have suddenly lost my grip, or done something I ought to be ashamed of." ANDREW CARNEGIE THE TURTLE WHO WON THE RACE TTTHEN Andrew Carnegie's parents first came to America ^ ^ from Scotland, they went to East Liverpool, Ohio, to stay with some relatives. Their son was about fourteen years old at the time, and was an object of considerable interest to io6 CAriTAL Stories About Famous Americans the boys of the neighborhood. He made many friends among them, and after the family had moved to Allegheny, Pennsyl- vania, often returned to East Liverpool to visit some of his playmates. On one occasion, when he was sixteen years old, he went with his cousin to visit William and Michael Fisher, who lived on a farm about half a mile from the town. The four boys spent some time in examining the pet rabbits and other objects of interest, and, at length, when they were all standing at the top of a grassy slope, William Fisher challenged Carnegie to a foot race. "Well," said Andrew, "you're a lot taller than I am, and your legs are longer, and I believe you can beat me, but I'll race you, just the same." The two boys started, and, as Andrew had foreseen, the Fisher boy easily outran him. The little Scotchman was by no means discouraged because the chances seemed all against him, but kept running. About half way down the slope the Fisher boy stopped, considering it useless to run further. To his surprise, Carnegie continued his pace, and arrived at the bottom far ahead of him. "That's not fair," said Fisher, "be- cause I stopped." "Yes, I knew you'd stop," said Carnegie, in reply, "and that's the reason I kept on running. Have you ever heard the fable of the turtle and the hare?" MR. CARNEGIE WAS BUSY WITH AFRICA A crank of the gentler sort recently wrote to Andrew Car- negie, calling his attention to the fact that the Eskimo could not advance morally and intellectually so long as they had to expend all their energy in keeping warm and seeking food ; therefore it was the clear duty of their neighbors further south to aid them in overcoming the disadvantage of their habitat. To this end the writer proposed that Mr. Carnegie equip a fleet of coal-laden steamers, which, during the summer Andrew Carnegie; 107 months, should cruise along the Greenland coast, leaving sup- plies of coal wherever needed for winter consumption. Stoves,, cooking utensils, etc., were also to be given to the natives. Mr. Carnegie dictated the following letter to his secretary : "Dear Sir : — Yours is received. I am considering a plan to supply the natives of Equatorial Africa with ice cream and electric fans, hence I can not entertain your excellent proposi- tion just now." CARNEGIE AT THE FOOT OF THE LADDER When the Carnegies arrived in America, they settled in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. Two days after their arrival there^ "Andy" Carnegie secured his first position. His father's means were so limited that the family could not exist on them ; and, when "Andy" came home and said that he had secured work as a bobbin-boy in a linen factory, at one dollar and twenty cents a week, his parents felt that they could find some happiness in their new home. Young Carne- gie was so proud of his achievement that he made up his mind at once that he was going to make a success of life. His next step was to secure a position for his father in the same factory. Young Andrew quickly showed that he had a liking for machinery, and he was given charge of a stationary engine in the factory. For nearly two years he kept this posi- tion, — oily, begrimed, and wearing overalls, — and then he sought something with a higher motive, and became a messen- ger boy for the Atlantic and Ohio Telegraph Company, of Pittsburg. This, in Mr. Carnegie's mind, was his best move. After long and successful years, Mr. Carnegie wrote of this change : "My entrance into the telegraph office was a transition from darkness to light, from firing a small engine in a dirty cellar, to a clean office where there were books and papers and a chance to advance. That was paradise to me, and I bless the io8 Capital Stories About Famous Americans stars that sent me to be a messenger in a telegraph office." The stars may have had something to do with it, but there was a stronger power to guide the boy to better things, and that power was James Reid, the superintendent of the com- pany. To-day, Mr. Reid is a worthy citizen of New York, and he says that he can remember distinctly the first day that Andrew Carnegie went to work. "He was so determined," says Mr. Reid, recalHng the day, ^'that I became interested in him at once. He seemed to have determination written on his face. His eagerness to work and learn were very noticeable. Before he had been with me a month, he asked to be taught telegraphy. When I consented, he spent all his spare time in practice, transmitting and re- ceiving by sound, and not by tape. He was the third operator in the United States to read the Morse signals by sound." While he was employed by Mr. Reid, his father died, and he became the breadwinner for his mother and his younger "brother, Thomas. He took up the duty with a light heart, and determined, a few years later, that he would not marry as long as his mother lived. He kept his word. His mother lived to enjoy the fruits of her son's early successes. In 1886, she passed away, and Thomas Carnegie followed her soon after. One year in the employ of the Atlantic and Ohio Telegraph Company made Andrew Carnegie an expert operator. It was soon after his fifteenth birthday that the superintendent of the Pennslyvania Railroad Company said to Mr. Reid: "We need a telegraph operator. Do you know a good one ?" "There's a young man in my office named Carnegie," said Mr. Reid, "who shows that he wants to work. He might suit you." It so happened that the superintendent of the Pennsylvania Railroad needed, particularly, a man who "wanted to work." He told Mr. Reid to send Carnegie to him. George W. Childs 109 In his new position, Andrew Carnegie further showed his "stick-to-it-iveness." He quickly mastered the details of train- dispatching, and was promoted to the headquarters of the company, and, soon after, became superintendent of the west- ern division of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company. He was then but twenty-four years old. AN HONEST ANSWER During his recent visit to Washington, Andrew Carnegie had occasion to send a mesenger boy with a note to the chair- man of the committee charged with the inaugural cere- monies in connection with the new Carnegie Library in that city. As the distance from the hotel to the library is considerable, the boy was obliged to consume the larger part of two hours before he could return with the answer. When he had come back the millionaire asked how much the boy charged for his services. The lad stuttered badly. "Fi-fi-fi-fi- fifteen c-c-cents," was his gasping reply. ''Why didn't you make it a quarter?" asked Mr. Carnegie. "B-b-b-b-b-because," painfully stammered the boy, "I c-c-c-c-c-could-could-couldn't s-s-ssay it." GEORGE W. CHILDS HOW HE BOUGHT THE "PUBUC LEDGER" 'XT 7 HEN William M. Swain was foreman of the printing- ^ ^ department of the New York Stm, at a salary of fif- teen dollars a week, he probably never dreamed that one day he would be able to sell the Public Ledger, of Philadelphia, for $1,000,000. While working for the Sun, Mr. Swain be- came sick. When he returned to work, there was a dispute over his salary, and he resigned in disgust. With A. S. Abell and Azariah H. Simmons, he went to Philadelphia, and, on March 25, 1836, the Ledger made its appearance. Mr. Swain no Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans was a joumalist of the aggressive type, and, although his paper was only nine by thirteen and one-half inches in size, it soon became known as "the sheet with the chronic temper." This was because of the editor's policy of "roasting" every- thing that didn't suit him. He came out strongly for aboli- tion, and thrice his office was mobbed, — and once it was almost annihilated. One day there walked into the ofifice a natty-looking youth who desired to rent an office in the Ledger Building. He said his name was George W. Childs, and that he was a publisher. Young Childs was immediately impressed with the magnitude of the Ledger and, a few days later, he met Mr. Swain in front of the building, and said: — ''Mr. Swain, some day I would like to buy your paper." Mr. Swain glared at the bold young man, and replied : "You'll have gray hairs before you do." Mr. Childs kept that one idea in his head, — the ownership of the Ledger. He worked diligently, and his business suc- ceeded. Sixteen years later, while looking over his bank ac- count, he came to the conclusion that he was prepared for the great object of his life. That day was December 3, 1864. When he entered Mr. Swain's office, that gentleman had no idea of selling his property; but, half an hour later, Childs was occupying his desk, and Mr. Swain was trudging toward his bank to place a million dollars to his credit. JOSEPH H. CHOATE "THESE GENTLEMEN ARE VAMPIRES" /^NCE, when he was defending a suit against a large cor- ^-^ poration, the plaintiff's counsel, a well-known New York lawyer, raked Mr. Choate's clients fore and aft in the good old- fashioned style of invective, denouncing them as "vampires, monsters that feed on the blood of the people," and so forth. Joseph H. Ciioate hi The jury was evidently impressed, and the orator, after a final broadside from his heaviest batteries, sat down in triumph. Mr. Choate had been leaning back at ease in his chair with his hands in his pockets. He rose to reply with a pleasant smile upon his handsome face. "Gentlemen of the jury," he said in quiet tones, "do you know what a vampire really is ? Look at the Quaker gen- tleman who is the president of the defendant company — sitting there with a gray suit and a white neckcloth. Look at the seemingly inoffensive young man sitting beside him — his sec- retary. You thought vampires were something terrible when Brother Parsons described them; but can it be so? For these gentlemen are vampires !" The whole court-room smiled, and the effect of the oppos- ing lawyers' ponderous artillery was undone. A HINT TO THE JUDGE And with all his velvet gentleness of method, he never lacked fighting power or the ability to assert himself. He was making the closing speech in an important case before the local Supreme Court when the judge wheeled round in his chair and began to talk to a friend. The lawyer ceased speak- ing. The justice, noticing the silence, looked inquiringly at him. "Your honor," said Choate, "I have just forty minutes in which to make my final argument. I shall not only need every second of that time to do it justice, but I shall also need your undivided attention." The undivided attention was secured ; but only a lawyer can fully understand how much courage was needed to deliver so dignified a rebuke to the potentate on the bench. HIS SECOND CHOICE The stories told of Mr. Choate are countless. He is one of those picturesque figures about whom stories cluster. Some 112 Capital Stories About Famous Americans of them, no doubt, belong rightfully to other celebrities; but he has originated witticisms enough to fill a volume. Here is one of his best, a typical flash of his epigrammatic philo- sophy : Some one asked him who he would choose to be, if he were not Joseph H. Choate. "Mrs. Choate's second husband," was the instantaneous reply. "A LITTLE LOWER THAN THE ANGELS" The same fine courtesy, which is characteristic of the man, showed in the sentence with which he began a speech at a public dinner, when he glanced at the gallery above him and saw that it was full of ladies. "Now," he said, "I understand the meaning of the scriptural phrase, 'Thou madest man a little lower than the angels.' " RUFUS CHOATE "OUFUS CHOATE, the great lawyer, was in many re- -*-^ spects one of the most lovable characters in American history. He was remarkable during his youth for the same sweetness of temper, and quick sense of the ludicrous, which he carried with him through life. He was easily persuaded to a particular course of conduct by his mother or sisters, and could not bear to grieve them ; if he could not carry his point by good-natured pleasantry he would yield with the best grace in the world. By the same humor, he sometimes warded off reproof, even when justly merited. TURNING REBUKE TO LAUGHTER An older sister was once beginning to admonish him for something which he had done, which was clearly wrong. He saw it coming and was determined to break the force of it. RuFus Choat^ 113 While she was bestowing the rebuke with the earnestness which the otTence seemed to deserve, happening to raise her eyes, she saw him standing with his right hand up by the side of his head, in the attitude of a person to whom an oath is administered, and with a face of extraordinary demureness and solemnity. The sight of him in this roguish position put an end at once to the lecture and to the feeling which prompted it. The loudest of laughs ended the scene, A MIDNIGHT JOURNEY On one very stormy night during his residence in Danvers, he was called upon, at a late hour, to draw the will of a dying man who lived several miles distant. He went, per- formed the service, and returned home. But after going to bed, as he lay revolving in his mind each provision of the paper he had so rapidly prepared, there flashed across his memory an omission that might possibly cause the testator's intention to be misunderstood. He sprang from his bed and began dressing himself rapidly, to the great surprise of his wife, only answering her inquiries by saying that he had done what must be undone, and in the thick of the storm, rode again to his dying client, explained the reason of his return, and drew a codicil to the will which made everything sure. He related this in after-life in illustration of a remark, that sometimes, years after a case had been tried, he would feel a pang of reproach that he had not urged some argument which at that moment flashed across his mind. He always thought his lost cases over again, to see if he could find any argument whereby he might have gained them. THE TURKEY CASE Many stories are told of his ingenuity and success as a criminal lav/yer. One of the most characteristic was that told of a man by the name of Jefferds, indicted for stealing a flock 114 CAriTAL Storics About Famous Americans of turkeys. "We had this case," says a distinguished mem- ber of the bar, "at every term of court for a year or more, and the inquiry used to be 'When are the turkeys coming- on?' The proofs accumulated on the part of the government at each successive trial. The County Attorney, a man of experience and abihty, fortified himself on every point, and piled proof upon proof at each successive trial, but all without success. The voice of the charmer was too powerful for his proofs, and at each trial — three or four in all, I forget which — there was one dissenting juror. The case at last became famous in the county, and in the vacations of the court the inquiry was often heard, 'When is the turkey case coming on again?' and persons would come from different parts of the county on pur- pose to hear that trial. Here the theatre was still larger. It was the county, the native county, of the already distinguished advocate. I heard those trials. One was in old Ipswich in December, I think — a leisure season — within four miles of the spot where the orator was born. They came up from Essex, — old Chebacco, — the old and the young men of the town. Representatives, more or less, from the whole body of the county, were present, and the court-house was crowded with delighted and astonished listeners. I remember how they all hung upon him, spellbound by his eloquence, and I verily believe these bystanders would have acquitted by a majority vote; but the jury, bound by their oaths to return a true ver- dict according to the evidence, would not do so: but still there was one dissenting juror; and finally the prosecuting officer, in utter despair, after the third or fourth trial, entered a nolle prosequi, and thus the turkeys were turned or driven out of court. I have heard that this alleged turkey-thief years afterward called on Mr. Choate at his office in Boston. Mr. Choate did not recollect him, which greatly surprised the old client, and he said, 'Why, Mr. Choate, I'm the man you plead so for in the turkey case, when thev couldn't find anvthing RuFus Choate 115 agin me.' There had been only forty-four good and true men against him (if there were four trials, and I believe there were), without including twenty-three more of the grand jury!" ••A LITTLE PATERNAL STRETCHING" The power of presenting things in a ludicrous aspect, by an odd turn of expression or a laughable exaggeration, was exhibited at this early period no less decidedly than in later life, and was equally effective in attracting attention, A mis- chievous boy had proved very troublesome to a man by the name of Adams, by letting down the bars of his pasture, de- stroying the fences, and similar misdeeds. Adams one day caught him at his tricks, and not being in a very humane or careful mood, seized and swung him around by the hair of his head. The father of the boy prosecuted Adams, and Mr. Choate defended him. In the course of the argument, he characterized the act as "a little paternal stretching of the neck, which perchance may save this forward lad from a final and a more eventful stretching." The jury seems to have agreed with him for it promptly acquitted his client. CHARMED BY THE MUSIC OF HIS VOICE It was in the House of Representatives at Washington that Benjamin Hardin, — "Old Ben Hardin," — as he was called, of Kentucky, heard Mr. Choate for the first time. I give it in the words of one who was present. "Mr. Hardin was an old stager in politics, a strong-minded, though somewhat rough individual, who was not disposed to much leniency in his criticisms of the efforts of younger members. He was, like Mr. Choate, Whig in politics ; and several days, or perhaps weeks, after the speech of Mr. Choate, he made an elaborate argument on the same question, and on the same side. At the outset of his remarks he stated that it was his uniform ii6 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans rule not to listen to speeches upon the same side of a ques- tion that he intended to discuss, as he wished to be conscious of feeling- that no part of his argument had been anticipated by others, 'but,' said he, 'I was compelled to depart from this rule once during this debate. The member from Massa- chusetts rose to speak, and, in accordance with my custom, I took my hat to leave, lingering a moment just to notice the tone of his voice and the manner of his speech. But that moment was fatal to my resolution. I became charmed by the music of his voice, and was captivated by the power of his eloquence, and found myself wholly unable to move until the last word of his beautiful speech had been uttered." LAWYER'S VACATION He once told Judge Warren that he was going to write a book. "Ah," said the Judge, "what is it to be ?"— "Well," replied Mr. Choate, "I've got as far as the title-page and a motto." — "What are they?" — "The subject is The Lawyci-'s Vacation, the motto — I've forgotten. But I shall show that the lawyer's vacation is the space between the question put to a witness and his answer !" RUFUS CHOATE'S BOLDNESS AS A LAWYER A distinguished lawyer often associated with him, relates this story: "In an insurance case we were for the plaintiff. A vessel had been insured for a year, with a warranty that she should not go north of the Okhotsk Sea. Within the year she was burned north of the limits of the Okhotsk Sea proper, but south of the extreme limits of some of that sea's adjacent gulfs. The defendant set up that there was no loss within the limits of the policy; and numerous witnesses had been summoned by both parties, — on our side to show that by mer- chants the Okhotsk Sea was considered to include the bays and gulfs; on the other side, to prove the contrary. A pro- RuFus Choate 117 traded trial was expected, and everything had been prepared. As we were walking to the court-house, he said, 'Why should we prove that we were not north of that sea? — why not let them prove that we were? What do you think of it?' — 'It seems to be the right way, certainly,' said I. 'Let us do it, — open the case on that idea.' I did so, and put on the mate to prove the burning at a certain time within the year. No cross-examination followed, and we rested our case. The other side were dumbfounded. They had expected that we should be at least two days putting in our case on the other theory, and had no witnesses at hand. They fought our plan stoutly; but the Court was with us, and they were obliged to submit to a verdict in our favor. The case lasted one hour." CHILDLIKE IN MONEY MATTERS "I remember," says a gentleman who studied with him, "that one morning he came rushing into his office for $500, remarking, in his sportive way, 'My kingdom for $500; have I got it?' He went to his blue bank-book, looked at it, and said, "Not a dollar, not a dollar,' and was going out, either to borrow or collect, when I stopped him. The old book had been filled, and the teller had given him a new one without entering in it the amount to his credit, the month not being ended when the accounts were usually balanced. I showed him the old book, and there was a balance in his favor of $1,200. He looked surprised, and said, 'Thank God.' But if the $1,200 had disappeared, he never would have been the wiser." ESTABLISHING A PRECEDENT During a trial, Mr. Choate was pressing the Court to make what he thought a very equitable and necessary order in rela- tion to taking a certain deposition. The Court, finding no ii8 Capital Stories About Famous Americans precedent for it, suggested that the matter be suspended till next day, "and then," added the Judge, "I will make the order if you shall be able to furnish me with any precedent for such a proceeding." "I will look, your Honor," replied Mn Choate, in his most deferential manner, "and endeavor to find a precedent, if you require it ; though it would seem to be a pity that the Court should lose the honor of being the first to establish so just a rule." AN EFFECTIVE APOLOGY In replying to a lawyer who had been addressing the Court in a loud and almost boisterous manner, Mr. Choate referred playfully to his "stentorian powers." To his sur- prise, however, the counsel took it in dudgeon, and as soon as possible rose to protest against the hostile assault. "He had not been aware of anything in his mode of address which would justify such an epithet; he thought it unusual and un- deserved," etc., etc. Going on thus, his voice unconsciously soon rose again to its highest key, and rung through the court- house as if he were haranguing an army; when Mr. Choate half rose, and stretching out his hand with a deprecatory gesture, said, in the blandest tones, "One word, may it please the Court, only one word, if my brother will allow. I see my mistake. I beg leave to retract what I said !" The effect was irresistible. The counsel was silent; the Court and spectators convulsed with laughter. TOO HIGH A COMPLIMENT Rufus Choate seldom lost his self-possession. He seemed to have the surest mastery of himself in the moment of greatest excitement. He was never beside himself with passion or anxiety, and seldom disconcerted by any accident or unexpected posture of affairs, — so very seldom indeed, that the one or two cases where he was slightly so, were never forgotten by his RuFus Choatd 119 friends. One instance occurred in the trial of a question of salvage. It was the case of the Missouri, an American vessel, stranded on the coast of Sumatra, with specie on board. The master of the stranded vessel, one Dixey, and Pitman, the master of the vessel that came to her aid, agreed together to embezzle the greater part of the specie, and pretend that they had been robbed of it by the Malays. Mr. Choate was cross- examining Dixey very closely to get out of him the exact time and nature of the agreement. The witness said that Pitman proposed the scheme, and that he objected to it, among other reasons, as dangerous. To which, he said, Pitman made a suggestion intended to satisfy him. Mr. Choate insisted on knowing what that suggestion was. The witness hesitated at giving it. Mr. Choate was peremptory, and the scene became interesting. "Well," said Dixey, at last, "if you must know, he said that if any trouble came of it we could have Rufus Choate to defend us, and he would get us off if we were caught with the money in our boots." It was several minutes before the Court could go on with the business, as the Judge had to rap vigorously for order. DELICIOUS IRONY In the case of Shaw vs. the Boston & Worcester Railroad, which was contested with a good deal of feeling, coming to the close of his argument, he said, turning round and facing the president of the road, "My friends, the President and Directors of the Boston & Worcester Railroad, honorable and high-minded men as I know them to be, have probably con- sidered that they should not be justified in paying to the plaintiff the large sum of money claimed in this case without the protection of a judgment in a suit at law; but I have no doubt, gentlemen, if you establish the liability, every one of them would lay his hand on his heart and say, 'Give her all that she asks, and God bless her !' " I20 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans A DROLL ARGUMENT In an argument before a committee of the Legislature in i860, in behalf of the petitioners for a railroad from Salem to Maiden, he drew one of those pictures with which he was accustomed to amuse, but, also, much more than merely to amuse, a jury. One argument in favor of the new road was, that it would enable travelers to avoid the East Boston Ferry, and to gain in speed. In reply, the beauties of the prospect in the harbor, and the pleasure of meeting friends on the boat, were referred to, as an offset. "The learned though somewhat fanciful gentleman," said Mr. Choate, "has eloquently set forth the delight which must be felt by all in catching an occasional glimpse of the harbor, as they cross in the boat ; as if the people of Danvers, Lynn, or Saugus, would care to gaze upon the threadbare beauties of Boston Harbor. Unfortunately, too, for the gentleman's case, it so happens that these same people have compelled this com- pany to arch their boat all over, and wall it up all round, so that nothing at all can be seen. Then the delight of meeting and shaking hands with an old friend ! Conceive, gentlemen, the pastoral, touching, pathetic picture of two Salem gentlemen, who have been in the habit of seeing each other a dozen times a day for the last twenty-live years, almost rushing into each other's arms on board the ferry-boat; — what transport! We can only regret that such felicity should be so soon broken up by the necessity of running a race against time, or fighting with each other for a seat in the cars." WINSTON CHURCHILL LIGHT ON THE LITERARY LIFE N the recommendation of a Concord charitable organi- zation, Winston Churchill, the author, recently took a man to work on his place up in New Hampshire. Mr. o William F. Cody 121 Churchill struggled with the fellow for some time, but found that it was hopeless. The only things in which he gained were laziness and self-satisfaction. Finally Mr. Churchill dis- charged him. The man took his dismissal with a jaunty air which was rather nettling. '"You seem pleased," observed Mr. Churchill, with a touch of sarcasm. ^'Oh, I ain't worrying," returned the man. "Guess I shan't starve." "Indeed? I'm not so sure about that. Perhaps you won't mind mentioning what you expect to do." "No objections," answered the man easily. "If the wust comes to the wust I shall take up book-writing. I've dis- covered that it don't require such an all-fired smart man as I used to think it did." WILLIAM F. CODY GOOD SECURITY C CT)UFFALO BILL" was once exhibiting in Boston, and -^ while giving a little reception at his tent at the close of the afternoon performance he was approached by a young man and his mother. After a moment of embarrassment on the lady's part she said: "Do you consider that you give a true picture of Western life?" "We try to, madam," answered Mr. Cody. "The people really ride around and shoot in that terrific manner, do they?" she continued. "Well, yes ; on occasion," he replied, rather more guardedly. "I never suspected it," went on the lady in some agitation. "Most of the money left me by my husband is invested in the West, but I now feel doubtful about allowing any more of it to go there." 122 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans "Is it secured by first-class real estate mortgage?" "I believe so." "Madam," said Cody with confidence, "do not give your- self the least vmeasiness. In all my experience with the West, I have never yet seen a first mortgage on real estate riding a bucking bronco, shooting up the town, or doing anything except grimly drawing its twelve per cent, per annum. I wish I owned a million of 'em." BUFFALO BILL IN PARIS Marshall P. Wilder relates these interesting stories of association with Buffalo Bill in the French capital : When the "Wild West" Company first went to Paris I was one of "Buffalo Bill's" guests for several weeks. The Paris shopkeepers and theatre managers had heard of the enormous success of the "Wild West" in England, and some of those who feared it might divert money which otherwise would find its way into their pockets arranged for a powerful clacqne on the opening day — not to applaud, but to disturb the per- formance, and discourage Cody so that he would leave the city. They did not know their man, so they had only their ex- pense for their pains. Besides, even a Paris mob, which is said to be the meanest in the world, would think twice before "demonstrating" much in the face of an arena full of Indians and crack shots. The performance went on with little or no annoyance; but after it ended a great crowd burst into the ring and almost caused a riot. Suddenly another French peculiarity was manifested: a single gendarme worked his way to the centre of the crowd and fired a bullet from his pistol. In an instant the multitude dispersed. The worst of, the French people respect the majesty of the law — when it is backed by firearms. I soon duplicated, as well as I could, the Colonel's scout costume, which he alwavs wore on the streets as an advertise- William F. Cody 123 ment. I, too, appeared in buckskin trousers, fringed leggins^ an animated mushroom ; but the Parisians were quick to note the resemblance and to dub me "le petit Buffalo Bill." One morning the Colonel went out to be shaved and asked me to accompany him. As we both were dressed in "Wild West" costume, to which the Colonel had added a pair of pistols and a knife, a large crowd followed and lingered about the shop we entered. A Parisian shopkeeper generally has his wife with him, to act as cashier and general manager, and the barber to whom we had gone had a chic and attractive wife, regarding whom Cody and I exchanged admiring remarks in English, at the risk of the barber understanding us and becom- ing disagreeable. Then Cody seated himself and asked the barber: "Do you speak English?" "Non, m'sicur,^' with apologetic eyebrows and shoulders. The Colonel thrust his hands into his long brown curls, and said : "I want you to put a little oil on my hair and rub it in; com pre f" "Old, oui, m'sieiir." Then Bill asked: "Marsh, what is French for shave?" My French was as limited as his, so I replied : "Racoo" I guess." "And I want you to racoo my face." "Old, Old, m'sieur." The barber shaved his customer; but he had mistaken the sign-language of Cody's first order, for he raised a pair of shears to clip the Colonel's long hair — one of his most treas- ured possessions and features — in fact, like Samson of Bibli- cal fame, his hair was the secret of his strength. Just as the barber lifted a lock and poised the shears for the first snip. Bill saw the situation in a mirror. With a cow-boy yell that would have made a Comanche Indian green with envy, he sprang from the chair to save his hair. 124 Capital Stories About Famous Americans The barber, who had been working with bated breath, appalled by the savage appearance of his customer, dropped his shears, and his knees shook, as, with chattering teeth, he begged for mercy. The wife's screams added to the confusion, the lingering crowd pressed in, and was reinforced by a gendarme, who began a rapid fire of questions in excited French. No explanations that were offered in either tongue were comprehended by the parties who spoke the other lan- guage, and as the barber seemed consumed with a desire to get rid of us we hurried away in a cab, the barber's wife fol- lowing us with imprecations — and she so pretty, too ! One day while the show was in Paris, we saw a distin- guished-looking man pressing against the rope stretched around Colonel Cody's tent. When he found opportunity he said, in excellent English : "Pardon me. Colonel Cody ; but I should like to speak to you. I have many friends in your great coun- try — a country for which I have a sincere admiration." "I am very glad to see you," the Colonel replied wearily — he had heard this same speech so often ! "My name is Bartholdi," modestly replied the sculptor, whose magnificent statue, "Liberty Enlightening the World," endeared him to Americans. From the moment he made him- self known to Cody he "owned the show." ADVENTURE WITH A HIGHWAYMAN While Cody was still a boy he was riding on the Pony Express Line. One day, as he flew around a bend in a nar- row pass, he confronted a huge revolver in the grasp of a man who manifestly meant business, and whose salutation was : "Halt! Throw up your hands!" Most people do, and Will's hands were raised reluctantly. The highwayman advanced, saying, not unkindly : "I don't want to hurt you, boy, but I do want them bags." Money packages were in the saddlebags, and Will was WILI.IAM F. Cody 125 minded to save them if he could, so, as the outlaw reached for the booty. Will touched the pony with his foot, and the upshot was satisfactory to an unexpected degree. The plunge upset the robber, and as the pony swept over him he got d vicious blow from one hoof. Will wheeled for a revolver duel, but the foe was prostrate, stunned, and bleeding at the head. Will disarmed the fellow, and pinioned his arms be- hind him, and then tied up his broken head. Will surmised that the prisoner must have a horse hidden near by, and a bit of a search disclosed it. When he returned with the animal, its owner had opened his eyes and was beginning to remem- ber a few things. Will helped him to mount, and out of pure kindness tied him on ; then he straddled his own pony, and towed the dismal outfit along with him. It was the first time that he had been behind on his run, but by way of excuse he offered to the station agent a broken- headed and dejected gentleman tied to a horse's back; and the agent with a grin, locked the excuse up for future reference. TOO QUICK FOR THE INDIAN One day the station boss of the Pony Express Line hailed Cody with the information : "There's Injun sign about; so keep your eyes open." "I'm on the watch, boss," was Will's answer, as he ex- changed ponies and dashed away. The trail ran through a grim wild. It was darkened by mountains, overhung with cliffs, and fringed with monster pines. The young rider's every sense had been sharpened by frontier dangers. Each dusky rock and tree was scanned for signs of lurking foes as he clattered down the twilight track. One large bowlder lay in plain view far down the valley, and for a second he saw a dark object appear above it. He kept his course until within rifle-shot, and then sud- denly swerved away in an oblique line. The ambush had 126 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans failed, and a puff of smoke issued from behind the bowlder. Two braves, in gorgeous war paint, sprang up, and at the same time a score of whooping Indians rode out of timber on the other side of the valley. Before Will the mountains sloped to a narrow pass ; could he reach that he would be comparatively safe. The Indians at the bowlder were unmounted, and though they were fleet of foot, he easily left them behind. The mounted reds were those to be feared, and the chief rode a very fleet pony. As they neared the pass, Will saw that it was life against life. He drew his revolver, and the chief, for his part, fitted an arrow to his bow. Will was a shade the quicker. His revolver cracked, and the warrior pitched dead from his saddle. His fall was a signal for a shower of arrows, one of which wounded' the pony slightly ; but the station was reached on time. A STAGE DRIVER'S EXPERIENCE While Cody was driving stage between the Mississippi and Rocky Mountains he was taken aside by the agent one day, and advised that a small fortune was going by the coach that trip, and extra vigilance was urged, as the existence of the treasure might have become known. "I'll do the best I can," said Will ; and he had scarcely driven away when he suspected the two ill-favored passengers he carried. The sudden calling away of the conductor, where- by he was left alone, was a suspicious circumstance. He properly decided that it would be wiser for him to hold up his passengers than to let them hold up him, and he pro- ceeded to take time by the forelock. He stopped the coach, jumped down, and examined the harness as if something was wrong; then he stepped to the coach door and asked his passengers to hand him a rope that was inside. As they com- plied, they looked into the barrels of two cocked revolvers. William F. Cody 127 "Hands up!" said Will. "What's the matter with you?" demanded one of the pair, as their arms were raised. "Thought I'd come in first — that's all," was the answer. The other was not without appreciation of humor. "You're a cute one, youngster," said he, "but you'll find more'n your match down the road, or I miss my guess." "I'll look after that when I get to it," said Will. "Will you oblige me by tying your friend's hands? Thank you. Now throw out your guns. That all ? All right. Let me see your hands." When both outlaws had been securely trussed up and proved to be disarmed, the journey was resumed. The re- mark dropped by one of the pair was evidence that they were part of the gang. Young Cody knew he must reach the relay station before the attack. If he could do that, he had a plan for farther on. The relay station was not far away, and was safely reached. The prisoners were turned over to the stock-tenders, and then Will disposed of the treasure against future molestation. He cut open one of the cushions of the coach, taking out part of the filling, and in the cavity thus made stored everything of value, including his own watch and pocketbook ; then the fill- ing was replaced and the hole smoothed to a natural ap- pearance. If there were more in the gang, he looked for them at the ford where the Indians had sought to cut him off, and he was not disappointed. As he drew near the growth of willows that bordered the road, half a dozen men with menacing rifles stepped out. "Halt, or you're a dead man !" was the conventional saluta- tion, in this case graciously received. "Well, what do you want?" asked Will. "The boodle you carry. Fork it over !" 128 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans "Gentlemen," said Will, smiling, "this is a case where it takes a thief to catch a thief." "What's that?" cried one of the outlaws, his feelings out- raged by the frank description. "Not that I'm the thief," continued Will, "but your pals were one too many for you this time." "Did they rob you?" howled the gang in chorus, shocked by such depravity on the part of their comrades, "If there's anything left in the coach worth having, don't hesitate to take it," offered Will, pleasantly. "Where's your strong-box?" demanded the outlaws, loathe to believe there was no honor among thieves. Will drew it forth and exposed its melancholy emptiness. The profanity that ensued was positively shocking. "Where did they hold you up?" demanded the leader of the gang. "Eight or nine miles back. You will find some straw in the road, you can have that too." "Were there horses to meet them ?" "On foot the last I saw them." "Then we can catch 'em, boys," shouted the leader, hopes upspringing in his breast. "Come, let's be ofif !" They started for the willows on the jump, and presently re- turned spurring their horses. "Give them my regards !" shouted Will, but only the thud ! thud ! of horse hoofs answered him. Retribution was sweeping like a hawk upon its prey. Cody pushed along to the end of his run, and handed over his trust undisturbed. Fearing that his ruse might have been discovered he put the "extra vigilance" urged by the agent into the return trip, but the trail was deserted. He picked up the prisoners at the relay station and carried them to Fort Kearney. If their companions were to discover the trick played upon them, they would have demanded his life as a sacrifice. William F. Cody 129 HOW HE CAME TO BE BUFFALO BILL While the Kansas Pacific Railroad was being built Cody had a contract to furnish the men with twelve buffaloes a day. One day he galloped out toward a large herd of buffaloes and met with five officers from the neighboring fort who were waiting for the buffaloes to come up. They were recent ar- rivals in that part of the country, and their shoulder-straps indicated that one was a captain and the others were lieuten- ants. They did not know Cody. They saw nothing but a good-looking young fellow, in the dress of a working man, astride a not handsome horse, which had a blind bridle and no saddle. It was not a formidable-looking hunting outfit, and the captain was disposed to be a trifle patronizing. "Hallo !" he called out. "I see you're after the same game we are." "Yes, sir," returned Will. "Our camp's out of fresh meat." The officer ran a critical eye over Brigham. "Do you ex- pect to run down a buffalo with a horse like that ?" said he. "Why," said Will, innocently, "are buffaloes pretty speedy." "Speedy? It takes a fast horse to overhaul those animals on the open prairie." "Does it ?" said Will ; and the officer did not see the twinkle in his eye. Nothing amuses a man more than to be instructed on a matter that he knows thoroughly, and concerning which his instructor knows nothing. Probably every one of the officers had yet to shoot his first buffalo. "Come along with us," off'ered the captain, graciously. "We're going to kill a few for sport, and all we care for are the tongues and a chunk of the tenderloin; you can have the rest." "Thank you," said Well. "I'll follow along. " There were eleven buffaloes in the herd, and the officers started after them as if they had a sure thing on the entire number. Will noticed that the game was pointed toward a 130 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans creek, and understanding "the nature of the beast," started for the water, to head them off. As the herd went past him, with the military quintet five hundred yards in the rear, he gave Brigham's bHnd bridle a twitch, and in a few jumps the trained hunter was at the side of the rear buffalo ; Lucretia Borgia spoke, and the buffalo fell dead without even a bridle signal, Brigham was promptly at the side of the next buffalo, not ten feet away, and this, too, fell at the first shot. The manoeuvre was repeated until the last buffalo went down. Twelve shots had been fired; then Brigham, who never wasted his strength, stopped. The officers had not had even a shot at the game. Astonishment was writ- ten on their faces as they rode up. "Gentlemen," said Will, courteously, as he dismounted. "Allow me to present you with eleven tongues and as much of the tenderloin as you wish." "By Jove !" exclaimed the captain. "I never saw anything like that before. Who are you, anyway?" "Bill Cody's my name." "Well, Bill Cody, you know how to kill buffalo, and that horse of yours has some good running points after all." "One or two," smiled Will. Captain Graham — as his name proved to be — and his com- panions, were a trifle sore over missing even the opportunity of a shot, but they professed to be more than repaid for their disappointment by witnessing a feat they had not supposed pos- sible in a white man — hunting buffalo without a saddle, bridle, or rein. Will explained that Brigham knew more about the business than most two-legged hunters. All the rider was ex- pected to do was to shoot the buffalo. If the first shot failed, Brigham allowed another; if this, too, failed, Brigham lost patience, and was as likely as not to drop the matter there. It was this episode that fastened the name of "Buffalo Bill" upon Will Cody, and learning of it, the friends of Billy William F. Cody 131 Comstock, chief of scouts of Fort Wallace, filed a protest, Comstock, they said, was Cody's superior as a buffalo hunter. So a match was arranged to determine whether it should be "Buft'alo Bill" Cody or "Buffalo Bill" Comstock. The hunting ground was fixed near Sheridan, Kansas, and quite a crowd of spectators was attracted by the news of the contest. Officers, soldiers, plainsmen, and railroad men took a day off to see the sport, and one excursion party, including many ladies, among them Louise, came up from St. Louis. Referees were appointed to follow each man and keep a tally of the buffaloes slain. Comstock was mounted on his favorite horse, and carried a Henry rifle of large calibre. Brigham and Lucretia went with Will. The two hunters rode side by side until the first herd was sighted and the word given, when oft" they dashed to the attack, separating to the right and left. In this first trial Will killed thirty-eight and Comstock twenty-three. They had ridden miles, and the car- cases of the dead buffaloes were strung all over the prairie. Luncheon was served at noon, and scarcely was it over when another herd was sighted, composed mainly of cows with their calves. The damage to this herd was eighteen and fourteen, in favor of Cody. In those days the prairies were alive with buffaloes, and a third herd appeared before the rifle barrels were cooled. In order to give Brigham a share of the glory, Will pulled off saddle and bridle, and advanced bareback to the slaughter. That closed the contest. Score, sixty-nine to forty-eight. Comstock's friends surrendered, and Cody was dubbed "Cham- pion Buffalo Hunter of the Plains." A BUFFALO IN CAMP In the spring of 1869, the Fifth Cavalry, ordered to the Department of the Platte, took up the line of march for Fort McPherson, Nebraska. 132 Capital Stories About Famous Americans It was a large command, including seventy-six wagons for stores, ambulance wagons, and pack-mules. Those chief in authority were Colonel Royal (afterwards superseded by Gen- eral Carr), Major Brown, and Captain Sweetman. The average distance covered daily was only ten miles, and when the troops reached the Solomon River there was no fresh meat in camp. Colonel Royal asked Will to look up some game. "All right, sir," said Will. "Will you send a couple of wagons along to fetch in the meat?" "We'll send for the game, Cody, when there's some game to send for," curtly replied the Colonel. That settled the matter, surely, and Will rode away, a trifle ruffled in temper. He was not long in rounding up a herd of seven buffaloes, and he headed them straight for camp. As he drew near the lines, he rode alongside his game, and brought down one after another, until only an old bull remained. This he killed in almost the centre of the camp. The charge of the buffaloes had nearly stampeded the picketed horses, and Colonel Royal, who, with the other officers, had watched the hunt, demanded, somewhat angrily : "What does this mean, Cody?" "Why," said Will, "I thought, sir, I'd save you the trouble of sending after the game." The Colonel smiled, though perhaps the other officers en- joyed the joke more than he. ROBERT COLLYER THE IRISHMAN HAD HIS DOUBTS TT IS well known, Rev. Robert Collyer, of New York City, was a blacksmith in Germantown, Pennsylvania, before he became a preacher. Once, when there was little work at George B. Cortelyou 133 hand, he asked a builder in his neighborhood for something to do. The latter replied that all he could give him would be a job carrying a hod. "I'm your man," replied the blacksmith, promptly, and he was soon at work. Years afterwards, while an imposing edifice was being erected in Chicago for Dr. Collyer, he was standing among the beams, watching the progress of the work, when an Irish- man came along with a hod of bricks. Dr. Collyer spoke to him and he paused. "This is har-rd work, soir," said the Irishman. "I know that well," answered Dr. Collyer; "in my day. I've carried the hod myself." "The Irishman stared at me an instant," said Dr. Collyer, in relating the incident, "and then went on his way mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like, 'I wouldn't 'a' be- laved the parson was such a liar.' " GEORGE B. CORTELYOU THE TWENTIETH CENTURY PRODIGAL /CHAIRMAN CORTELYOU, of the Republican National ^-^ Committee, during the last Presidential campaign, was approached one day by a minor and unimportant New York State politician who, though formerly a Republican, at the past two Presidential elections has voted the Democratic ticket. The man explained at length that he had seen the exceeding error of his ways and was now once more ready to vote and work for the party of his first love, at the same time intimating that a congenial job at headquarters during the campaign would be acceptable. "Mr. Blank," said Mr. Cortelyou firmly, "I'm sorry, but I shall have to disappoint you. We're glad you're back, but nowadays the wise prodigal fetches along his own calf." 134 Capital Stories About Famous Americans GEORGE A. CUSTER A FRIENDLY WORD GEORGE A. CUSTER and Thomas L. Rosser were chums and classmates at West Point Mihtary Academy, They left that institution in iS6i, the one to enter the Union and the other the Confederate army. Both proved their skill and valor on a score of battlefields. The end of the v^ar, however, found Rosser penniless, with a wife and children dependent upon him for support. There were no openings in the South, but employment must be had. He made his way to the North- west, and secured work on the Northern Pacific Railway, then in course of construction. One day, General Custer, riding- along the line of the road, noticed a section boss whose face seemed strangely familiar. "Isn't your name Rosser?" he finally asked. "Why, Custer, how are you?" said Rosser, looking up from his work. Thus they met for the first time since leaving West Point. Custer called the next day on the chief engineer of the road. "There is a man namer Rosser," said he, "under you as a construction boss." "Yes, and one of the best I ever had. Anything wrong about him ?" "No," replied Custer, "but he was at W>st Point with me, and afterwards became a major-general of cavalry under the Confederacy. Can't you give him something better than the work he is doing?" "Why, I have been looking for just such a man," said the engineer. And so Rosser, through Custer's kindly offices, became second in command of the engineer corps. A few months later he was promoted to be chief engineer. He made good use of the opportunities his position afiforded for profitable invest- CHARLES SUMNER ELIHU ROOT JAMES G. BLAINE ANDREW CARNEGIE JOSEPH G. CANNON Chauncey M. Depew 137 ment, and to-day is accounted one of the wealthy men of his native Virginia. HENRY G. DAVIS HE KNEW THINGS EX-SENATOR HENRY G. DAVIS, of West Virginia, the candidate of the Democratic party for the office of Vice-President in 1904, began his railroad career as a conduc- tor on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. One day John M. Garrett, president of the road, and a party of friends were on Davis' train, making an inspection of what is known as the "second division ;" that is, from Martinsburg to Cumberland. Garrett asked the conductor some questions about the villages and the country through which the train passed. The an- swers surprised the great railroad man. Davis not only told all about the villages, but also made suggestions as to how the traffic of the road could be increased by reaching into the tim- ber and mining lands near, and how expenses could be cut down by changes in the freight schedules. He grew eloquent on the subject and showed that he had given it thorough study. Finally Garrett said : "Is there anything you don't know about the road and the country through which it passes ?" "I don't think there is," Davis modestly replied. Garrett laughed, but a week later Davis got his first promotion, and, within a few years, he was an officer of the road. His knowl- edge of West Virginia's resources made him a millionaire later. CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW THE FIRST SPEAKER HAD SAID ENOUGH AT a public dinner given in Washington, at which Senator ■^-^ Chauncy M. Depew was present, one of the post-pran- dial speakers expressed himself in somewhat fulsome terms re- 138 Capital Stories About Famous Americans garding the distinguished guest. At the termination of his speech, the Senator, in spite of hints from friends, dechned to respond, and retained his seat. An awkward pause ensued. "For goodness sake, say something," whispered Mr. De- pew's neighbor. Thereupon the Senator reluctantly rose, coughed, adjusted his cuffs, toyed with eyeglasses, and said : "Life is worth living only for those who can, on occasions, let their convictions overcome their modesty. In the belief, therefore, that the gentleman who has just been talking to you has tried to do me justice, but has fallen short in the treat- ment of his subject, I beg leave to resume my chair." DEPEWS SUBTLE ARGUMENT One of the first cases which Chauncey Depew had after being admitted to the bar was a civil suit involving a somewhat complicated question of inheritance. In no way daunted, young Chauncey tackled it, looked up authorities all the way back to Julius Caesar, and prepared an argument of a few hundred pages which seemed to him more than unanswerable. His only fear was that it might be beyond the comprehension of the Court. When the time came the young man rose and plunged in boldly. The Judge seemed interested, and Chauncey took further courage. But at the end of an hour and a half, in the midst of the most intricate part of his plea, he was pained to see what he thought was a lack of attention on the part of the Court, It was just as he expected: the Judge was unable to appreciate the nice points of his argument. He paused, hesitated, and then said: "Your Honor, I beg pardon, but do you follow me?" "I have so far," answered the Judge, shifting about in his chair; "but I'll say frankly that if I thought I could find my way back I'd quit right here." George Dewey 139 HOW PLATT STOPPED THE TRAIN Senator Depew sometimes tells how, on at least one occa- sion, he was induced by a well-turned joke to render a service which the exigencies of business might otherwise have led him to deny. The incident occurred during Mr. Depew's occupancy of the office of President of the New York Central Company. One afternoon the future Senator received a telegram from a small town near Buffalo, reading as follows : "Kindly have Empire State Express stop here to take on Mrs. Piatt and Me Too." Although it was entirely unusual and, in fact, opposed to the policy of the company to stop a limited express at an un- important station, yet Mr. Depew issued a special order. Not long afterward Mr. Depew in conversation with Mr. Piatt alluded to the telegram, saying with a chuckle that had the telegram come signed merely "T, C. Piatt" he was afraid the Senator would have been forced to take another train. "Just so," added Mr. Piatt. "I realized that a joke would catch you where other means would fail ; so I sent the telegram signed in that way, as I particularly wished to make that train." GEORGE DEWEY THE CAPTURE OF DEWEY ADMIRAL DEWEY'S peace of mind has been greatly dis- -^~^ turbed lately by "sight-seeing automobiles," each carry- ing thirty or forty people, which stop in front of his home three times a day, in an effort to get a glimpse of the Admiral or Mrs. Dewey, Even more annoying than the stare of forty pairs of eyes is the witticism of the guide, who shouts through the megaphone in a voice that can be heard a block away : "The red house to your right — given by the American peo- I40 Capital Stories About Famous Americans pie to Admiral Dewey, who destroyed the Spanish fleet in Manila Bay and came to Washington to be captured by a lone woman," WHEN DEWEY WENT A FISHING WITH JOSEPH JEFFERSON While Admiral Dewey was at Palm Beach Jefferson took him up to the inlet in his launch, and, as was customary, was stationed in a small skiff in a favorable spot. According to Jefferson, silence and solitude are conditions essential to suc- cessful fishing, and it was on this account that the Admiral was left alone in the skiff, the others of the party stationing themselves at a little distance. Now it is affirmed that however successful Admiral Dewey may be in other respects, he is not much of a fisherman ; but he is an apt pupil, and follows instructions to the letter. Before leaving him the attendant had baited his hook with a live frog. "The best bait in the world," he said encourag- ingly. Being left to himself the Admiral's thoughts concen- trated themselves upon his line and the frog, and though a man of war he is tender-hearted. There was something about the thought of the sharp, steel hook imbedded in the clammy flesh that affected his nerves like the squeaking of a car-wheel. Probably it was his gazing fixedly at the cork floating upon the surface of the water that kept his thoughts upon the frog's sufferings. Why couldn't they have given him a piece of dead bait? Ah, was that a bite? Filled with the excitement that is born of long waiting for a certain thing to happen, Dewey momen- tarily forgot about the frog and w^aited for another movement of the line. It did not come. An hour went by, and then, from Jefferson : "Well, what luck?" "None at all," replied the Admiral. "What? You haven't caught any ?" Georgic Dewdy 141 "Not so much as a bite." Jefferson threw up his hands in amazement. For years he had known this to be the best fishing spot around Palm Beach. It was where he had made his own greatest catches. He looked about to reassure himself, and his glance lighted upon an object that caused him to burst into an uncontrolable fit of laughter. "What's the joke?" asked the Admiral testily. "Ha ! ha ! ha !" was all the actor could answer. "What ails the man ?" demanded Dewey. "Ho ! ho ! ho !" Jefferson held his sides. Then he choked. Then he found his voice. "You didn't get a bite?" "That's what I said." "Well — ho, ho, ho! no wonder," said Jefferson between bursts of laughter. "Why — ho, ho, ho ! — your bait is asleep on that log over there." And sure enough, there was the frog, just awakened by Jefferson's laughter, blinking his great eyes at them. Admiral Dewey made Jefferson swear a great oath that he would never tell the story, but it was too good to keep, and at the hotelthat night there was considerable merriment over the matter. THE STORY OF THE BATTLE OF MANILA An eye-witness who was on Admiral Dewey's flagship tells the graphic story which follows of the naval victory in Manila Bay, which made the name of George Dewey immortal : "It was just eight o'clock, a bright moonlight night, but the flagship passed Corregidor Island without a sign being given that the Spaniards were aware of its approach. Not until the flagship was a mile beyond Corregidor was a gun fired, then one heavy shot went screaming over the Raleigh and the Olympia followed by a second, which fell further astern. The Raleigh, the Concord and the Boston replied. The Con- 142 Capital Stories About Famous Americans cord's shells exploding apparently exactly inside the shore battery, which fired no more. Our squadron slowed down to barely steerage way, and the men were allowed to sleep alongside their guns. Commodore Dewey had timed our ar- rival so that we were within five miles of the City of Manila at daybreak. We then sighted the Spanish squadron, Rear Admiral Montojo commanding, off Cavite. Here the Span- iards had a well-equipped navy yard called Cavite arsenal. Admiral Montojo's flag was flying on the 3,500 ton protected cruiser Reina Christina. The protected cruiser Castilla, of 3,200 tons, was moored ahead and astern to the port battery, and to seaward were the cruisers Don Juan d'c Austria, Don Antonio de Ulloa, Isia de Cuba, Isla dc Luzon, Quiros, Mar- quis del Onero, and General Lezox. These ships and the flag- ships remained under way during most of the action. "With the United States flag flying at all their mastheads, our ships moved to the attack in line ahead, with a speed of eight knots, first passing in front of Manila, where the action was begun by three batteries mounting guns powerful enough to send a shell over us at a distance of five miles. The Con- cord's guns boomed out a reply to these batteries with two shots. No more were fired, because Admiral Dewey could not engage with these batteries without sending death and destruction into the crowded city. As we neared Cavite two very powerful submarine mines were exploded ahead of the flagship. This was at six minutes past five o'clock. The Spaniards had misjudged our position. Immense volumes of water were thrown high in air by these destroyers, but no harm was done to our ships. DASHING AHEAD IN SPITE OF TORPEDOES "Admiral Dewey had fought with Farragut at New Or- leans and Mobile Bay, where he had his first experience with torpedoes. Not knowing how many more mines there might George; Dewe;y 143 be ahead, he still kept on without faltering. No other mines exploded, however, and it is believed that the Spaniards had only these two in place. "Only a few minutes later the shore battery at Cavite Point sent over the flagship a shot that nearly hit the battery at Manila, but soon the guns got a better range, and the shells began to strike near us or burst close aboard from both the batteries and the Spanish vessels. The heat was intense. Men stripped ofif all clothing except their trousers. "As the Olympia drew nearer, all was silent on board as if the ship had been empty, except for the whirr of blowers and the throb of the engines. Suddenly a shell burst directly over us. From the boatswain's mate at the after 5-incli gun came a hoarse cry. 'Remember the Maine!' arose from the throats of five hundred men at the guns. The watchword reverberated through turrets and firerooms, and was caught up wherever seaman or fireman stood at his post. " 'Remember the Maine!' had rung out for defiance and revenge. Its utterance seemed unpremeditated, but was evi- dently in every man's mind, and, now that the moment had come to make adequate reply to the murder of the Maine's crew, every man shouted what was in his heart. "The Olympia was now ready to begin the fight. Admiral Dewey, his chief of staff, Commander Lamberton, and aide and myself, with Executive Officer Lieutenant Rees and Navi- gator Lieutenant Calkins, who conned ship most admirably, were on the forward bridge. Captain Gridley was in the con- ning tower, as it was thought unsafe to risk losing all the senior officers by one shell. 'You may fire when ready. Grid- ley,' said the Admiral, and at nineteen minutes of six o'clock, at a distance of 5,500 yards, the starboard 8-inch gun in the forward turret roared forth a compliment to the Spanish forts. Presently similar guns from the Baltimore and the Boston sent 250-pound shells hurling toward the Castilla and the Reina 144 Capital Stories About Famous Americans Christina for accuracy. The Spaniards seemed encouraged to fire faster, knowing exactly our distance, while we had to guess theirs. Their ship and shore guns were making things hot for us. SHOWERS OF FRAGMENTS "The piercing scream of shot was varied often by the bursting of time fuse shells, fragments of which would lash the water like shrapnel or cut our hull and rigging. One large shell that was coming straight at the Olympia's forward bridge fortunately fell within less than one hundred feet away. One fragment cut the rigging directly over the heads of Lamber- ton, Rees and myself. Another struck the bridge gratings in line with it. A third passed just under Dewey and gouged a hole in the deck. Incidents like these were plentiful. "Our men naturally chafed at being exposed without re- turning fire from all our guns, but laughed at danger and chatted good humoredly. A few nervous fellows could not help dodging mechanically when shells would burst right over them or close aboard, or would strike the water and passed overhead, with the peculiar spluttering roar made by a tumbling rifled projectile. Still the flagship promptly steered for the very centre of the Spanish line, and, as our other ships Avere astern, the Olympia received most of the Spaniards' attention. "Owing to our deep draught Dewey felt constrained to change his course at a distance of four thousand yards and run parallel to the Spanish column. 'Open with all guns,' he said, and the ship brought her port broadside bearing. The roar of all the flagships's 5-inch rapid firers was followed by a deep diapason of her after turret 8-inchers. Soon our other vessels were equally hard at work, and we could see that our shells were making Cavite harbor hotter for the Spaniards than they had made the approach for us. George Dewey 145 "Protected by their shore batteries and made safe from close attack by shallow water, the Spaniards were in a strong position. They put up a gallant fight. The Spanish ships were sailing back and forth behind the Castilla, and their fire, too, was hot. One shot struck the Baltimore and passed clean through her, fortunately hitting no one. Another ripped up her main deck, disabled a six-inch gun, and exploded a box of three pounder ammunition, wounding eight men. "The Olympia was struck abreast the gun in the ward room by a shell which burst outside, doing little damage. The signal halyards were cut from Lieutenant Brumby's hands on the after bridge. A shell entered the Boston's port quarter and burst in Ensign Dodridge's state-room, starting a hot fire, and fire was also caused by a shell which burst in the port ham- mock netting. Both these fires were quickly put out. Another shell passed through the Boston's fore mast just in front of Captain Wiles, who at the time was standing on the bridge. "After making four runs along the Spanish line, finding the charting correct. Lieutenant Calkins, the Olympia's navi- gator, told the Commodore he believed he could take the ship nearer the enemy, with lead going to watch the depth of water. The flagship started over the course for the fifth time, running within two hundred yards of the Spanish vessels. At this range even six-pounders were effective, and the storm of shells poured upon the unfortunate Spaniards began to show marked results. Three of the enemy's vessels were seen burn- ing and their fire slackened. STOPPING THE BATTLE FOR BREAKFAST "On finishing this run, Admiral Dewey decided to give the men breakfast, as they had been at the guns two hours with only one cup of coffee to sustain them. Action ceased tempor- arily at twenty-five minutes of eight o'clock, the other ship passing the flagship and the men cheering lustily. Our ships 146 Capital Stories About Famous Americans remained beyond range of the enemy's guns until ten min- utes of eleven o'clock, when the signal for close action went up. The Baltimore had the place of honor in the lead, with the flagship following and the other ships as they were in the earlier engagement. "The Baltimore began firing at the Spanish ships and bat- teries at sixteen minutes after eleven o'clock, making a series of hits as if at target practice. The Spaniards replied very slowly, and the Admiral signalled the Raleigh, the Boston the Concord and the Petrel to go into the inner harbor and de- stroy all the enemy's ships. By her light draught the little Petrel was enabled to move within one thousand yards. Here, firing swiftly but accurately, she commanded everything still flying the Spanish flag. Other ships were also doing their whole duty, and soon not one red and yellow ensign remained aloft, except on a battery up the coast. "The Spanish flagship and the Castilla had long been burn- ing fiercely, and the last vessel to be abandoned was the Don Antonio de Ulloa, which lurched over and sank. "Then the Spanish flag on the Arsenal staff was hauled down, and at half-past twelve o'clock a white flag was hoisted there. Signal was made to the Petrel to destroy all the vessels in the inner harbor, and Lieutenant Hughes, with an armed boat's crew, set fire to the Don Juan de Austria, the Marquis del Duero, the Isla de Cuba and the Correo. The large trans- port Manila, and many tugboats and small craft fell into our hands. " 'Capture and destroy Spanish squadron,' were Dewey's orders. Never were instructions more effectually carried out. Within seven hours after arriving on the scene of action noth- ing remained to be done. The Admiral closed the day by anchoring off the city of Manila, and sending word to the Governor General that if a shot was fired from the citv at the fleet he would lay Manila in ashes." Thomas A. Edison 147 THOMAS A. EDISON HIS FIRST CHECK THOMAS A. EDISON not long ago told a friend the story of his first acquaintance with any big sum of money. It was when he was struggling with his earlier inventions, and he had about as clear an idea of the value of a bank check as the man in the moon. He had finally sold his patent on the gold and stock indicator to the Western Union Telegraph Company and had called at its office to close the deal. After a few preliminaries he was given a check for forty thousand dol- lars. He eyed it curiously and appeared to be puzzled what to do with it. Observing his perplexity, General Lefferts, then president of the Western Union, told him that, if he would go to the Bank of America in Wall Street, he could get the cash on the check. "So I started," said Edison, "after carefully folding up the check, and went toward Wall Street. So uncertain was I in regard to that way of doing business that I thought, while on the way, that, if any man should come up to me and offer me two crisp thousand-dollar bills for that piece of paper, I would give him the check very quickly." On his arrival at the Bank of America, he half-tremblingly shoved his check out to the cashier. The latter scrutinized it closely, gave him a piercing glance, and said something which Edison, being hard of hearing, failed to understand. That w^as enough. He was fully convinced that his check was not worth forty thousand dollars, and again thought, as he rushed out of the bank, that any man who would give him two thousand dollars for it could have it. He hurried back to the office of the Western Union and said he could not get any money. A clerk was sent to the bank with him to identify him. "This man," said the clerk, "is Mr. Thomas A. Edison, to whose order the check is drawn." 148 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans "Why, certainly, Mr. Edison," said the cashier; "how would you like your money, — in what shape ?" "Oh, any way to suit the bank ; it doesn't make any differ- ence to me so long as I get the money," Edison was given forty thousand dollars in small bills. After dividing the roll into two wads of twenty thousand dol- lars each, he stuffed one into each trousers' pocket, and made all speed out of Wall Street. The next day he began work on his first laboratory in New York. CHARLES WILLIAM ELIOT AN EXTENDED CHAIR WHEN President Eliot of Harvard toured on the Pacific Coast some twenty years ago, one of the Western seats of learning which he visited was the University of Washington, at Seattle. He became much interested in Professor O. B. Johnson, a well-known figure on Puget Sound in those days, who was one of the college's leading lights, and in the course of a con- versation asked the Western man what chair he held. "Well," said Johnson, "I am professor of biology, but I also give instruction in meteorology, botany, physiology, chem- istry, entomology and a few others." "I should say that you occupied a whole settee, not a chair," rejoined Harvard's chief. THE PRESIDENTS GENEROSITY In Cambridge scores of stories circulate which illustrate his almost impulsive generosity. It is well known that on one occasion a student, sick with contagious disease and shunned by those about him. was taken into the President's own house. A raw sub-frcshman from a country village in Connecticut, on the evening of his first day in Cambridge, found himself in Charles William Eliot 149 need of a Latin grammar to prepare for the next day's exam- ination. Quite without friends at the University, he told his need to the first man he met, and was bidden to the stranger's house. There a long search unearthed a Latin grammar, but it proved to be of too old an edition to serve the present need. By this time the stranger's perplexity and anxiety to get the book exceeded the student's own, and, after some thought, he sent the young man off with a note to a friend in a neighboring street who might be likely to have the right edition. It was weeks before the student learned that the chance stranger who had given an hour of his time and an even more precious measure of his sympathy to a lonely and troubled student was the President of the University. In a University that numbers over four thousand, the opportunity for personal touch be- tween student and President is small; but there are scores of stories of the enlistment of the President's personal interest in some student's behalf. There was a young man who de- sired to study botany, but had failed to satisfy some technical preliminary requirement. The committee which stood be- tween the student and his wish have a vivid recollection of the warmth of manner and the emphatic gesture of the Presi- dent as he declared, "If that young man wants to study botany, he shall study it." A NEW PRESIDENT Here is an anecdote suggestive in every way of Harvard's honored President : Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes told it in a letter to his friend Motley, the historian. The letter first described how curious it was to see "a. young man like Eliot, with an organizing brain, a firm will, a grave, calm, dignified presence, taking the ribbons of our classical fcoach-and-six, feeling (the horses' mouths, putting a check on this one's capers and touching that one with a lash, turning up everywhere in every faculty (I 150 Capital Stories About Famous Americans belong to three), on every public occasion, and taking it all as naturally as if he had been born President." Then he tells the story : " 'How is it, I should like to ask,' said one of our number the other evening, 'that this Faculty has gone on for eighty years managing its own affairs, and doing it well — how is it that we have been going on so well in the same orderly path for eighty years, and now, within three or four months, it is proposed to change all our modes of carrying on the school ; it seems very extraordinary, and I should like to know how it happens ?" " 'I can answer Dr. 's question very easily,' said the bland, grave young man ; 'there is a new President.' " DAN EMMETT THE STORY OF "DIXIE" \ NEWSPAPER man who went to talk with Dan Emmett, -^~^ the author of Dixie, a little while before his death, re- lates this story : "Are you Dan Emmett, who wrote Dixie?" "Well, I have heard of the fellow ; sit down," and Emmett motioned to the steps. "Won't you tell me how the song was written ?" "Like most everything else I ever did," said Emmett, "it was written because it had to be done. One Saturday night, in 1859, as I was leaving Bryant's Theatre, where I was play- ing, Bryant called, 'I want a walk-'round for Monday, Dan.' "The next day it rained and I stayed indoors. At first when I went at the song I couldn't get anything. But a line, 'I wish I was in Dixie,' kept repeating itself in my mind, and I finally took it for my start. The rest wasn't long in coming. And that's the story of how Dixie was written. Dan Emmett 151 "It made a hit at once, and before the end of the week everybody in New York was whisthng it. Then the South took it up and claimed it for its own. I sold the copyright for five hundred dollars, which was all I ever made from it. I'll show you my first copy." He went into the house and returned in a moment with a yellow, worn-looking manuscript in his hand. "That's Dixie " he said, holding it up for inspection. "1 am going to give it to some historical society in the South, one of these days, for though I was born here in Ohio, I count myself Southerner, as my father was a Virginian." Dixie Land was, without question, the most famous of all the Southern war songs. But it was the tune, as in the case of Yankee Doodel, and not the words, that gave it its great power to fire the heart. It is claimed that Emmett appropri- ated the tune from an old negro air, which is quite probable. Since the war Dixie has been as favorite a tune with bands of music throughout the North as has Yankee Doodle. Abra- ham Lincoln set the example for this. A war correspondent recalls an incident which occurred only a night or two before Mr. Lincoln w'as assassinated. The President had returned from Richmond, and a crowd called with a band to tender congratulations and a serenade. The great man who was so soon to be the victim of the assassin's bullet appeared in re- sponse to calls and thanked his audience for the compliment. Several members of his Cabinet surrounded him, and it was a very interesting and dramatic occasion. Just as he was closing his brief remarks, Mr. Lincoln said : "I see you have a band with you. I should like to hear it play Dixie. I have con- sulted the Attorney-General, who is here by my side, and he is of the opinion that Dixie belongs to us. Now play it." The band struck up the old tune, and played it heartily. As the strains of the music rang out upon the air, cheer after cheer -Avent up from the throats of the hundreds of happy men who 152 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans bad called to congratulate Mr. Lincoln upon the return of peace. It was that great soul's olive branch which he held out to the South. Dixie, as originally written by Dan Emmett was as fol- lows : I wish I was in the land ob cotton, Old times dar am not forgotten, Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! In Dixie Land where I was born in. Early on a frosty mornin', Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! Den I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray ! Hooray ! In Dixie Land, I'll take my stand. To lib and die in Dixie, Away ! Away ! Away down South in Dixie. Old Missus marry "Will-de-weaber," Willium was a gay deceaber; Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! But when he put his arm around 'er, He smiled as fierce as a forty pounder, Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! His face was as sharp as a butcher's cleaber. But dat did not seem to greab er' ; Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! Old Missus acted de foolish part, And died for a man dat broke her heart. Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! Now here's a health to de next old Missus, And all de gals dat want to kiss us ; HORACE GREELEY JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER GEORGE B. McCLELLAN BENJAMIN F. BUTLER OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES HENRY BERGH RoBi^EY D. Evans 155 Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! But if you want to drive 'way sorrow, Come and hear dis song to-morrow, Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! Dar's buckwheat cakes an' Injen batter, Makes you fat or a httle fatter; Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! Den hoe it down and scratch your grabble, To Dixie's Land I'm bound to trabble. Look away ! Look away ! Look away ! ROBLEY D. EVANS "FIGHTING BOB'S STORY" N the cabin of the battleship lozva, after the fight off Santiago, Admiral Evans, then Captain, told this inter- esting story of the battle: "At the time 'general quarters' was sounded, the engine bell rang 'full speed ahead,' and I put the helm to starboard, and the Iowa crossed the bows of the Infanta Maria Teresa, the first ship out. As the Spanish Admiral swung to the west- ward, the 12-inch shells on the forward turret of the Iowa seemed to strike him fair in the bow, and the fight was a spectacle. As the squadron came out in column, the ships beautifully spaced as to distance, and gradually increasing their speed to thirteen knots, it was superb. "The lozva from this moment kept up a steady fire from her heavy guns, heading all the time to keep the Infanta Maria Teresa on her starboard bow, and hoping to ram one of the leading ships. In the meantime the Oregon, Indiana, Brook- lyn and Texas were doing excellent work with their heavy guns. In a very short space of time the enemy's ships were all clear of the harbor mouth, and it became evidently impossi- I >. I 156 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans ble for the lozva to ram either the first or the second ship on account of their speed. "The range at this time was two thousand yards from the leading ship. The lozva s hehn was immediately put hard to starboard, and the entire starboard port side was poured into the In fan fa Maria Teresa. The helm was then quickly shifted to port and the ship headed across the stern of the Teresa in an effort to head off the Oquendo. All the time the engines were driving at full speed ahead. A perfect torrent of shells from the enemy passed over the smoke-stacks and superstruc- ture of the ship, but none struck her. "The Cristobal Colon, being much faster than the rest of the Spanish ships, passed rapidly to the front in an efTort to escape. In passing the Iowa the Colon placed two 6-inch shells fairly in our starboard bow. One passed through the coffer- dam and dispensary, wrecking the latter and bursting on the berth deck, doing considerable damage. The other passed through the side of the water line with the cofferdam, where it still remains. SHIP CROWDED TO UTMOST SPEED "As it was now obviously imposible to ram any of the Spanish ships on account of their superior speed, the Iowa's helm was put to the starboard, and she ran on a course parallel with the enemy. Being then abreast of the Ahnirante Oquendo, at a distance of 1,100 yards, the Iowa's entire bat- tery, including the rapid-fire guns, was opened on the Oquendo. The punishment was terrific. Many twelve and eight-inch shells were seen to explode inside of her, and smoke came out through her hatches. Two twelve-inch shells from the lozva pierced the Almirante Oquendo at the same moment, one forward and the other aft. The Oquendo seemed to stop her engines for a moment and lost headway, but she immedi- ately resumed her speed, and gradually drew ahead of the RoBLEY D. Evans 157 loTi'a and came under the terrific fire of the Oregon and Texas. "At this moment the alarm of 'torpedo-boats' was sounded, and two torpedo-boat destroyers were discovered on the star- board quarter at a distance of four thousand yards. Fire was at once opened on them with the after battery, and a twelve-inch shell cut the stern of one destroyer squarely oflf. As this shell struck, a small torpedo-boat fired back at the battleship, sending a shell within a few feet of my head. I said to Executive Officer Rogers, 'That little chap has got a lot of cheek.' Rogers shouted back, 'She shoots very well.' "Well up among the advancing cruisers, spitting shots at one and then at another, was the little Gloucester, shooting first at a cruiser and then at a torpedo-boat, and hitting a head wherever she saw it. The marvel was that she was not destroyed by the rain of shells. "In the meantime, the Vizcaya was slowly drawing abeam of the lozua, and for the space of fifteen minutes it was give and take between the two ships. The Viccaya fired rapidly, but wildly, not one shot taking effect on the lozs^'a, while the shells from the lozva were tearing great rents in the sides of the Viccayn. As the latter passed ahead of the lozva she came under the murderous fire of the Oregon. At this time the Infanta Maria Teresa, and the Almirante Oquendo, lead- ing the enemy's column, were seen to be heading for the beach and in flames. The Texas, Oregon and lozva pounded them unmercifully. They ceased to reply to the fire, and in a few moments the Spanish cruisers were a mass of flames and on the rocks with their colors down, the Teresa flying a white flag at the fore. THE SPANISH SHIPS ON FIRE "The crews of the enemy's ships stripped themselves and began jumping overboard, and one of the smaller magazines began to explode. Meantime the Brooklyn and the Christo- 158 Capital Stories About Famous Americans bal Colon were exchanging compliments in lively fashion and at apparently long range, and the Oregon, with her locomotive speed, was hanging well on to the Colon, also paying atten- tion to the Viccaya. The Teresa and the Oqnendo were in flames on the beach just twenty minutes after the first shot was fired. Fifty minutes after the first shot was fired the Vhcaya put her helm to port with a great burst of flame from the after part of the ship and headed slowly for the rocks at Acceredos, where she found her last resting place. **As it was apparent that the loiva could not possibly catch the Cristobal Colon and that the Oregon and Brooklyn un- doubtedly would, and as the fast Neiv York was also on her trail I decided that the cause of humanity should be answered and attention given to the twelve hundred or fifteen hundred Span- ish officers and men who had struck their colors to the Ameri- can squadron commanded by Admiral Sampson. I therefore headed for the wreck of the J^izcaya, now burning furiously fore and aft. When I was in as far as the depth of water would admit, I lowered all my boats and sent them at once to the assistance of the unfortunate men who were being drowned by dozens or roasted on the decks. I soon discovered that the insurgent Cubans who were on the shore would not allow the men who were struggling in the water to reach the shore. I immediately put a stop to this, but I could not put a stop to the mutilation of many bodies by the sharks inside the reef. These creatures had become excited by the blood from the wounded mixing in the water. "My boats' crews worked manfully and succeeded in saving many of the wounded from the burning ship. One man, who will be recommended for promotion, clambered up the side of the Vhcaya and saved three men from burning to death. The smaller magazines of the Vizcaya were exploding with mag- nificent cloud effects. The boats were coming alongside in a steady string and willing hands were helping the lacerated RoBLEY D. Evans 159 Spanish officers and sailors on to the lozua's quarterdeck. All the Spaniards were absolutely without clothes. Some had their legs torn off by fragments of shells. Others were mutil- ated in every conceivable way. SUPERB EXAMPLES OF HEROISM "The bottoms of the boats held two or three inches of blood. In many cases dead men were lying in the blood. Five poor chaps died on the way to the ship. They were afterwards buried with military honors from the lozva. Some examples of heroism, or more properly devotion to discipline and duty, could never be surpassed. One man on the lost Vizcaya had his left arm almost shot off just below the shoul- der. The fragments were hanging by a small piece of skin. But he climbed unassisted over the side and saluted as if on a visit of ceremony. Immediately after him came a strong hearty sailor, whose left leg had been shot off above the knee. He was hoisted on board the loiva. with a tackle, but never a whimper came from him. Gradually the mangled bodies and naked men accumulated until it would have been almost diffi- cult to recognize the lozva as a United States battleship. "Blood was all over her usually white quarterdeck ; and 272 naked men were being supplied with water and food by those who a few minutes before had been using a rapid-fire battery on them. Finally came the boats with Captain Eulate, com- mander of the J^i.zcaya for whom a chair was lowered over the side, as he was evidently wounded. The Captain's guard of marines was drawn up on the quarterdeck to salute him, and I stood waiting to welcome him. As the chair was placed on deck the marines presented arms. Captain Eulate slowly raised himself in the chair, saluted me with grave dignity, unbuckled his sword belt, and, liolding the hilt of the sword before him, kissed it reverently, with tears in his eyes, and then surrendered it to me. i6o Capital Stories About Famous Americans "Of course, I declined to receive his sword, and, as the crew of the lozva saw this, they cheered hke wild men. As I started to take Captain Eulate into the cabin to let the doctors examine his wounds, the magazines on board the Vizcaya ex- ploded with a tremendous burst of flame. Captain Eulate, ex- tending his hands, said : 'Adios, Viscaya, there goes my beauti- ful ship. Captain;' and so we passed on to the cabin, where the doctors dressed his three wounds." EUGENE FIELD "ON THE CONTRARY" EUGENE FIELD was once visiting the house of his friends, the Stoddards, in New York, of which he sang: Their hom.e in Fifteenth Street is all so snug, and furnished so, That, when I once get planted there, I don't know when to go. During the evening a certain well-known physician dropped in. He is a serious man, and a bit pompous. The talk turned on diet. "Doctor," said Stoddard, "I've heard that you eat two eggs at breakfast every morning the year round." "No," said the doctor emphatically, "no; on the con- trary." " 'On the contrary !' " cried Stoddard. "What's the con- trary of eating two eggs?" "Laying two eggs," came in deep, solemn tones from Field. CHARLES WARREN FAIRBANKS A HARMLESS BEVERAGE -^HIS is a story which Vice-President Fairbanks probably -*- did not tell on the hustings last fall; but he vouches among friends for its truth. He says that three or four years ago when he and Governor Shaw, of Iowa, now Secretary of Clinton B. Fisk i6i the Treasury, were out campaigning, they finished a tour of Indiana and Ohio, and then went over into Kentucky, where they were received hospitably by a man who took them to lunch in a restaurant, as they had little time to spare. When they were seated, the host said : ■'Now before lunch, gentlemen, please take something with me. What will you have?" "I'd like a glass of lemonade, if it is handy," replied Governor Shaw. Then beaming on the Senator from Indiana, the Kentuckiarr said: " Of course, Senator, you will have something with me?"' "Certainly," replied the Indiana statesman, "I'd like a glass of buttermilk." The sable waiter was grinning broadly as he asked the host : "Colonel, what will you have?" "Under the circumstances," answered the Colonel, mopping his brow, "I'll take a piece of pie." CLINTON B. FISK "PAPA WHY DONT YOU PRAY?" r^ENERAL FISK'S biographer, H. A. Hopkins, relates ^-^ the following interesting incident : At home, one night, after supper was over, General Fisk's little three-year-old daughter Mary came and knelt by him to say her evening prayer. The mother was occupied unusu- ally, and for once her sweetest maternal duty she delegated to him. White-robed and pure as the white-robed ones above, the tiny figure bowed its head upon his knee and prayed. It was a new experience to this busy young man. He listened, with heart beating swifter, to her simple formula, and to the special plea of "God bless papa, God bless mamma," at the close. And when the child rose up her question smote him like a blow : i62 Capital Stories About Famous Americans "Papa, why don't you pray ?" He made some hasty answer, and kissed her haunting lips good-night. Then he went down street and into the bank, and tried to labor there. But his mind would not fix itself on matters of finance. Between him and credit balances, bills of exchange, discounts, and the like came presistently that little form in white ; over and over he heard again the prayer breathed softly at his knee, and echoing in his ears, with sweet and strange persistence that would not be put aside, her ques- tion repeated itself: "Papa, why don't you pray?" At last he yielded to the influences which he could not con- trol, thrust business considerations quite away, and did the soberest thinking he had done for many a month. And in the midst of commercial success, facing what promised to be a widely prosperous future, he resolved hereafter to be as active for God as for Clinton Fisk, and to leaven all his business life with prayer. Bolting his safes and turning the key of his bank door, he walked homeward. Reaching there, he sat down near his wife and said: "Did you hear the question Mary asked me, Jeannette?" "Yes, Clinton, I heard it," answered Mrs. Fisk. "Well, Jenny, I've been thinking it all over, and I've made up my mind that, with God's help, we'll have all the praying there ought to be in this household hereafter. If you'll hand me the Bible, we'll begin now." "IT HAD TO BE DONE THEN" It was while General Fisk's command lay at Helena, after their return from the Yazoo expedition, and one evening as he sat on a bluff of the Mississippi, looking across its muddy cur- rent and still muddier bottoms, that he heard some superla- tive swearing not far below. It was about the worst to which Clinton B. Fisk 163 he had ever listened, and it grieved him to think, indeed at first he would not believe, that it could come from one of his own men. Walking out to the edge of the bluff, and looking over, he saw a teamster of the Thirty-third, who had been to the landing with a wagon and six mules, and, coming back up the river, had snagged on a stump and broken the wagon- pole. And, according to this teamster's profane declarations, everything conceivable and inconceivable, in the Confederacy and out of it, was in the way just at that particular time, and to blame for his mishap. He blamed everything, too, and everybody, in language exuberant with curses, till the mias- matic air seemed blue. General Fisk walked back and sat down. By and by, soberly leading his six mules, along came the teamster. Salut- ing him kindly, the General said : "John, didn't I hear some one swearing dreadfully over there a little while ago ?" "Oh, yes," the man answered, "I reckon you did." "Who was it?" asked the General. "That was me, sir," he replied. "But," said General Fisk, "don't you remember the cove- nant made up at the Benton Barracks, between you and me and the others of the regiment, that I was to do all the swear- ing that was needed for the Thirty-third Missouri during the war?" "Oh, yes," the man answered, promptly, "I remember that ; but you were not there to do it, and it had to be done then." General Fisk enjoyed the humor of this reply, as much as he had been pained by the occasion for it, and gave it over to his staff. It gained wide currency, and afterward, through all the Mississippi region, whenever a teamster was heard cursing, some one would suggest that he wait till General Fisk came along and let him have the job. 164 CAriTAL Stories About Famous Americans FISK'S ARMY TACTICS On one occasion advices from the War Department, at Washington, had announced a new edition of Casey's Army Tactics and copies were looked for eagerly at the front. While still expected, General Fisk, one morning, received a thousand bright New Testaments from the American Bible Society. They were unpacked and put up at headquarters in a neat case, and, with their gilt-lettered backs, made quite a show. Within an hour or two in came Colonel Samuel Rice, of Iowa, and glancing casually at the volumes he said : "So the Tactics have come ! I am glad of it." "Yes, Colonel," was the General's answer, "the Tactics have come." "Can I make my requisition for them this morning?" Colonel Rice then quickly inquired, still giving to them no closer scrutiny. "Certainly," he was told. "Have you read these Tactics, General?" he further asked. "Yes, Colonel," was the prompt answer; "I have studied them, and I mean to study them morning and evening till mustered out." ^ Colonel Rice's requisition for "forty-two Casey's Tactics" came soon through the adjutant-general, and General Fisk made up a package of forty-two New Testaments and sent it to Colonel Rice. The officers gathered round him to re- ceive each a copy, and watched their Colonel wdiile he opened the package and handed out the books. Astonishment followed, of course. It was not the kind of joke common in army circles, but they took it kindly. For a long time Colonel Rice had been thinking soberly on re- ligious things. He began now to study the Tactics, and gave himself prayerfully to the warfare therein taught. For others of that group, also, these Tactics had special message and blessing. CivINTON B. FiSK 165 "NIGGER EQUALITY" During" reconstruction days, General Fisk in his work in the Freedman's Bureau, met with many interesting experi- ences. As an extreme sample of one type with which General Fisk had to deal, we may mention an Alabama woman, a mountain refugee, who came into headquarters as if they would contaminate her, and fairly demanded her rights. She had, as she informed him, "ben two year in Injianny," and her business now was "to git transportation back to Alabam'. We uns hearn tell," she said, "that you uns was goin' to give the refugees the farms of the old secesh, and we uns wants 'em." The General told her no, that could not be done; and as he said it, and while her disappointment was getting ready to voice itself, a neatly-dressed colored woman came in, and begged a hearing. It was accorded her as politely as if she had been white and dressed in satin. She was neater and more ladylike than the Alabama refugee. Her story was infinitely more sad. Her daughter had been spirited away from Nash- ville, after being freed by act of Congress, and sold in Georgia. It was an unusual and unusually aggravating case, and it touched the Commissioner's great tender heart at once. Her petition for aid to bring back the stolen young woman was granted as soon as made, and the petitioner went gratefully away. Then this Alabama woman grew wrathy. "Gineral Fisk," she asked, her sallow face yet more un- lovely than before, "be you a abolitionist ?" "Yes, madam," he frankly answered, "I be." "Wall, now, gineral," she went on, "you don't believe in nigger equality, do you? I'm sure you ain't so bad as that?" The General's patience did not fail him, but his sense of justice asserted itself. With less suavity than usual, he re- plied : "Madam, I do not think you need to have the least uneasi- 1 66 Capital Stories About Famous Americans ness in the world on the question of equahty, for you will have to learn a great deal more than you now know, and will have to conduct yourself in a much better manner, before you be- come anywhere near the equal of that good colored woman who has just left." And with a sniff of her snuffy nose, and vigorously con- demning the "nigger bureau," this lady from Alabama took her leave. JOSEPH WINGATE FOLK A STORY OF BEGINNINGS TTOSMER WHITFIELD has told in the Success magazine -*--*- this interesting and impressive story of one of the most foremost figures to-day in American politics : "Joseph Wingate Folk, whom the Democrats of Missouri elected Governor, seems to fit into the refrain of Rudyard Kip- ling's poem. Once on a Time There Was a Man, even more perfectly than Joseph Chamberlain, the Great British Liberal, whose career prompted the effusion. Next to President Roosevelt, the most extraordinary personal triumph of the w^hole bewildering election was won by Mr. Folk. His vic- tory was purely individual. He was the only man on his ticket who carried his State. He carried it against the bitter enmity of the personal leaders of his own party. His career is an inspiring demonstration of the value of uncompromising, aggressive honesty to a public man. He personifies the great- est overshadowing issue of present and future politics, — wipe out corruption. Mr. Folk, as circuit attorney of St. Louis, was the man who, single-handed, in the past year has brought to bay and sent to jail the majority of the gang of boodlers, bribers, and bribe-takers, who, up to his election, had been robbing the city by the big river. "He was thirty-five years old on October 28, 1904. He was JOSEIPH WiNGATE FoLK 1 6/ only in his thirty-first year when he began the crusade against corruption that has made a new chapter in American history. In these few years this young man has done more in this re- spect than the entire law system of the United States has else- where accomplished. He has practically split wide open the most infamous ring that ever thrived in an American city. Many a man who was old enough to be his father, or even his grandfather, — many a man who was a powerful politician and fearless as a financier, — was trapped by him as easily as if his game were a baby's. Men who thought that they knew every phase of municipal plundering, and who believed that they were above and beyond the law, and safe in the very core of their criminality, scattered before this youngster and left their dark records to indict them. "It was only by chance that he was nominated for circuit attorney of St. Louis. Very little was known of him save that he was a bright young lawyer, a Democrat, and ambitious as a politician. He had come from his native place, Browns- ville, Tennessee, to seek a future in a larger municipality. At Vanderbilt University he was known as a clever young man, popular and well liked, but always studious. No sooner had he been graduated than he rushed into law. He was ad- mitted to the bar in 1890, and his life until 1900 was filled with the ups and downs that beset any fellow who throws him- self on the world with but one object in view, — to succeed. But it was a sorry day for many in St. Louis when Joseph W. Folk was placed on the Democratic ticket for circuit attorney. How he got on, no one can really explain. Ask any of the bosses and they will hold up their hands in horror and say, 'God only knows.' He was understood to be ambitious. He was placed on the ticket unwittingly. The bosses thought that he could be 'used,' — that he would bow to the regulations of the ring and the demands of its leaders in order to hold his office and win promotion. Capital Stories About Famous Americans WHEN MADE CIRCUIT ATTORNEY HE SURPRISED THE MACHINE "Like all other young lawyers, with no one but themselves to depend on, he took cases when and where he could get them during his first year in St. Louis, at one time being attorney for ticket scalpers, and he went about hunting for all the petty business that every young lawyer knows. While attorney for some street railway strikers, he became associated with Harry W. Hawes, his chief political foe. They were both in about the same boat, except that Hawes had been in St. Louis longer than Folk, was somewhat better known, and had greater local influence. Together Hawes and Folk began to dabble in petty politics. Hawes was the organizer of the Jeflferson Club, which began with eighteen members and for several years only contained a few hundred, and amounted to little politically. To-day Hawes is still its president and prac- tically its dictator, and its eight thousand members are known as the 'St. Louis Indians.' Where this name 'Indians' origin- -ated no one seems to know, it probably being a reflection of New York's Tammany. To-day the Jefferson Club is the 'machine,' and is feared, liked, hated, and served accordingly. Its influence, usually baneful, has reached from the World's Fair to the bridges over the Mississippi, that are strangling the business interests of St. Louis. "Folk and Howes were chums. When the making of a new ticket came up, 'Ed.' Butler, then the undisputed boss, — at Hawes' request, — placed Folk on the ticket for circuit attorney. So little was Folk known that Butler had never heard of him, but Hawes, having some secret idea of his own, and thinking that Folk was an easy, waxy man to handle, obtained Butler's consent to Folk's nomination. Folk accepted, with his usual caution, and with both eyes open. It did not take Hawes and Butler long to discover with what kind of a man they hod to deal. "Folk has two short words that represent his character JosEPfi WiNGATE Folk 169 better than any other two words in our language. One is 'honor,' the other is 'duty.' He placed his right foot on one, and his left foot on the other, and there he stands. There are men who laugh at this and say that he must waver, and that no man in his position can remain spotless. "On the day that he took office, he discovered frauds in the very election that put him in power. Without a moment's delay he began to bring the illegal voters to justice. Cor- porations and bosses sent their henchmen to warn him not to go too far. But he was obdurate. " 'We charge you with ingratitude,' they said. " 'And I charge you with breaking the law,' he replied. " 'You are prosecuting Democratic wardmen,' they said, threateningly. " 'I am glad to know who they are,' he replied. " 'It is not your fault that dishonest men voted for you,' they said, angrily. " 'One who violates the law is not a Democrat, or a Re- publican, but a criminal,' replied the circuit attorney. "This answer has rung through Missouri and the West and its echoes are being heard in the East. It is famous. "Through these dishonest voters, he discovered the nest of boodle plunderers. He discovered that corporations were rob- bing the people to bribe politicians, and that the laws of the city were being sold without a blush. No other circuit attorney had ever dared to attack this political stronghold. He said on the stump that, if elected, he would do his duty. 'That's fine campaign oratory,' said his adherents ; 'it will make the people believe that they are really going to get good government.' "The party reckoned without its candidate. He was in deadly earnest. His air of determination was real. His words of warning were not the vote-catching platitudes and promises that are of one color before election day and of another there- after. He went at the very men who elected him as well as 170 Capital Stories About Famous Americans the men who opposed him in a manner that silenced the pub- lic. The task was Herculean, but he was equal to it. Finally his party and the corporations and boodlers back of it saw tliat their mighty temple of graft was to be shattered. Nothing could save it unless something radical were done. 'Folk must be squelched.' "There were only two ways to suppress him. One was to murder him, the other to tempt him with a sum of money so large that he could not resist it. The first way was thought to be most expedient. Folk was threatened. Letters were written to him stating that he would be shot if he did not quit. His friends heard of these letters, and begged him to desist, but he only prosecuted with more vigor, "His detractors tried to carry their threats into action. A shot was fired at him, but the bullet still rests in the hole that it bored in his office wall. Then they tried to buy him. 'Maybe he is only waiting to be offered a large sum,' they said. Cor- porations sent their oiliest talkers to win him over. He told them that they must put their requests in writing. Some dared to do so, only to incriminate themselves. It is said that he was sent a blank check signed by a 'leading' citizen with a request to fill it out for any amount, as it would be cashed at sight. At any rate, he was offered a great amount of money, a sum so large that it was thought he could not pass it by, — he was offered just two million dollars, openly and without conditions, to quit. But he quietly smiled and said, 'No!' "This undemonstrative young man, equipped with the courage of plain honesty, and with nothing else back of him save the guidance of a good father and a good mother, and a faithful, loving wife, had, therefore, awakened a new era of civic righteousness in his State. With the adamantine im- pregnability of a Gibraltar, he stood his ground, defying all who opposed him. Slightly undersized, cool, collected, with no touch of the dramatic, he kept on working, not to prosecute any Simeon Ford 171 individual, but to defend his State. The people rallied around him. They were made enthusiastic by his progress. They felt he must be rewarded. His salary was too small a reward, for his life was in danger, and he must be given something to show the gratitude of the people. They met and agreed to purchase a beautiful residence site, and build thereon a home and present the title deed to him. He heard of this promised token of appreciation, and nipped its bestowal in the bud. 'I shall be obliged to refuse it,' he said; 'I cannot accept any- thing for my work but my salary.' " SIMEON FORD THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN AFTER-DINNER SPEAKER IMEON FORD told last year in Success the interesting s story of his development as an after-dinner speaker, and some exceedingly amusing stories of his experience : "I have already said my final word on after-dinner speak- ing in an after-dinner speech on the painful subject. It was to the effect that after-dinner oratory is a curious business, severe on the guests, but worse on us ; that the few orators who really enjoy speaking are men without any sense of shame ; and that as for myself, I am free to say that I would rather be the humblest bank president among the guests than to sit in the fierce light that beats upon the head table and get my dinner for nothing. That about sums up the case. ANTICIPATION OF A SPEECH FREQUENTLY SPOILS A DINNER "When I began making speeches, 'year in and year out ago,' I took myself as seriously as must anyone who hopes to be funny. When I was invited to make an after-dinner speech, I read and re-read the invitation with prideful thrills, and then I read it to my wife and permitted her to regard me acrosss the breakfast table as admiringly as the wonder I felt myself about 172 Capital Stokies About Famous Americans to be, ought to be regarded. After-dinner speaking seemed to me to be a neat and shining short cut to assorted varieties of fame. I spent days over my speech ; I muttered it in street cars and on railway trains, till my fellow-passengers were worked up to a concert pitch of suspicion of my innocent past, I made my family both jealous and bored; I alienated my friends; I proved to my enemies their own excellent judgment; and I wore myself to the sad shadow I now am, all in getting ready one line of foolishness after another. "All for what? "Not because I enjoyed it, certainly : the anticipation was sauce to spoil the dinner for me, utterly; besides, as I have often said, of all the many melancholy places a man is jammed into in the course of an ill-spent life, recommend to me the head table at a big dinner. The men there are so scared and mad because they will have to speak that nobody could b(^ glummer, unless it be the men at the other tables who are mad because they haven't been asked. There is nothing enjoyable about it. The actual speaking is a pleasure to some, if it goes off well ; to others it is always a terror, anyway ; and, if it doesn't go off well, the skilless forger, languidly eating his first dinner in Sing Sing, finds the meal a gladsome birthday party in comparison. You might as well set before him a cake covered with pink frosting and pink candles, and expect his face to light up with smiles, as to expect the applause of a din- ner table to brighten the life of a man who knows none the less that his speech has been a failure. The whole business is a precarious one. What did I see in it to justify me? I don't know, unless it was the feverish delight of looking for my picture on the first page of the paper next morning. For that I fought and bled and died for years before it began to bore me. "Then, gradually, I came to wonder why in the world I was doing it. 'What's the use?' is a cynical question only Simeon Ford 173 when it is applied to something over which you would do well to be cynical. Ask what's the use of doing any of the worth- while things that you do, and you'll find the use quickly enough. But drape the question around any foolishness, and you will get back a hollow, echoing, rattling reply, — 'No use !' That is the truth. There is no use in after-dinner speaking for the after-dinner speaker ; he would be satisfied to eat and go away. There is nothing in it for the magnate who silently lends his respectability to the occasion ; his respectability is enough for him. There's nothing in it for the jolly, lucky soul who is simply there to enjoy himself at another fellow's ex- pense and say nothing. As Gallagher would say, — " 'There's not'in' doin' for nobody ; so wot's the use ?' ONE MAY MAKE A GOOD SPEECH AND NO ONE WILL SMILE "So much for the dark side of an evil subject! Still, if after-dinner speaking is to be accepted as a necessary evil and done at all, it might as well be done well. But the test of its having been done well is not necessarily its re- sult. If a man sets the table in a roar he has made a good after-dinner speech ; but, on the other hand, he may make a perfectly good after-dinner speech, and nobody will crack a smile. Clearly the matter depends on something besides him- self, and in the case of a fairly good speaker, this something is the secret of all good after-dinner speaking; it is the secret of a man's picture being on the first page next morning, or not at all ; it is the secret of his boring a company or making every- body fall on the table ; it is the secret of his ultimate reputation as a wit or as a bore ; and it is the simplest thing in the world. The true explanation is found in the fact that his fate lies in the hands of the man who speaks before he does. "When they ask me where, on a dinner programme, I de- sire to be placed, I always want to say : 'Please lay a cover for the biggest bore there is, and put me on the programme 174 Capital Stories About Famous Americans next' They don't always do it, but, when they do, it is h'ke some patent adjustable appliance for the mechanical manufac- ture of an oratorical success. The air is so overcharged with the dry stuff that preceded, that any old, worn-out spark of mine will light a laughing bonfire very difficult to extinguish. "On the arrangement of a programme of toasts depends the success of an after-dinner speaker. The other fellows won't have any success, anyway. But they are very useful, — those other fellows. They fomi a magnificent black velvet back- ground for the display of jewels, and it is so black and so heavy that even paste looks well when it is laid on it. They are the low lights, the middle-dark of the picture. They have to be, so let them be. Never decry a bore at a dinner. Think of the man who will sparkle afterwards, when the guests will fall on his neck with gratitude for the least little effervescence. DONT BLAME A BORE: YOU'LL BE GLAD WHEN HE STOPS "Once a party of ladies and gentlemen, driving along a country road, came upon a small and very ragged and terribly dirty little boy who sat knocking a stone against his own head. He continued rhythmically battering away until the passers- by became alarmed. " 'My poor child,' exclaimed one of the ladies, 'what are you doing? Aren't you hurting your head frightfully?' "The boy stopped, abashed, but with a good conscience. " 'Yes'm,' he explained, 'I am ; but it feels so good when I stops.' "So never blame a bore. Think how good it will feel when he stops. "In the hands of the toastmaster, then, lies the glory or defeat of the humorous fellows who are to speak. If he finds that an uproarious speech, just received with shouts of ap- plause is to be followed by the speech of a man who is sure to be funny, he will no more allow it than the chef would have I Simeon Ford 175 allowed terrapin to follow lobster on the incmi. He will reach away down the programme, and pull up a man brimming with dates and heavy facts about the unearned increment, and he will set him on his feet in their light-minded midst. The man will be an instant counter-irritant ; the guests, still glowing with their fun, will listen to him with patience, and rest; his own complacence in being lifted forward in the order of ex- ercises will be unbounded; and the day will have been saved for the poor old funny man who was to come next to the other funny man, and everybody will be pleased. THE WISE WORLD LIKE TO WEEP AS WELL AS TO LAUGH "That is the very way that the whole literary and lecture- going and theater-going public is played upon all the time. Take the book that makes you laugh up one page and cry down the next; one lays it down with the unvarying comment, — 'It is a good book.' That was, for instance, the secret of the enormous success of 'Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch.' What else made James Whitcome Riley and Bill Nye tour the country together? Their success was half due to the fact that Nye lifted an audience away up on the top of joke after joke and left it there gasping till Riley came gracefully for- ward and let everybody down with a poem about the little boy who died and whose Christmas tree was left standing for years, drying up in a corner of the musty parlor. In every successful play this arrangement is observed. Golden-haired Irene dies in a plush chair and a delirous dress ; the audience, with swell- ing throat, realizes that never again that night will she caper through the first act, gayly, lightly, fleetly joyous, or her tiny slippered feet beat out to rhythmic rag-time. She is dead, dead, dead, and the audience wonders why it came to be thus har- rowed, — when, lo, the low comedian ! In he trots, in the next act, in an excruciating make-up, with a lurid line of talk and a job lot of light-footed antics, and the audience leaves the house 176 Capital Stories About Famous Amijricans in a tumult of appreciation. It's the way ; and, since you can not make people weep at a dinner, to get contrast, the next best play is to have them bored here and there with florid doses of useful information. THE GUESTS ALWAYS APPLAUD THE CREATOR OF LAUGHTER ' "The man of humor, if he gets a desirable place on the programme, not too near the end and not after a star, has an easy time, too. Let him make light of himself, hit off the well- known weakness of some one who is popular, use a good adjec- tive out of its usual sense, and, above all else, light on some foible or discomfort or grudge common to everybody, and his speech is a success. The guests are usually with him from the first, anyway ; they want to laugh ; they will always go halfway to meet a laugh; the speaker has not a single prejudice to ovecome before he has them smiling. They will laugh at things which, ventured by their wives over breakfast, would meet with a cold stare or a haughty and uncomplimentary comment. They are the easiest people in the world to please, if you give them half an excuse. The permanent possession of this half excuse constitutes you, in their eyes, a humorous speaker. "The place of the short story in an after-dinner speech is a precarious one. I have never used it in my life, and I am al- ways amazed and delighted at the brave men who do. Some- body in the room is terribly likely to have heard the very best story you can relate. I remember once hearing a short story told at the head table that aroused such a roar of laughter that I was sure no one there had ever heard it before. This must mean, I thought, that the man has either made it up himself, or pinched the proofs of a joke paper, made up two months ahead. The story was this: "A shepherd once advertised for an assistant shepherd, whom he wished to do all his hard work. A sailor, who had SiMi;oN Ford 177 spent all his life at sea, came ashore and saw the advertisement, and, thinking he would like a few years of land duty, applied to the shepherd for the job. " 'But you say you have been at sea all your life,' cried the shepherd, with astonishment ; 'what can you know about sheep ?' " 'Nothing at all,' replied the sailor, humbly, 'but I believe I can do this business, all the same.' "The shepherd led him up to a high mountain, and pointed to the valleys and mountains and meadows for miles around. They were all thickly scattered with sheep. "'Do you see those sheep?' said the shepherd. 'They are all mine, and the work you would have to do would be to get them all into the fold by to-morrow night. You could never do that.' " 'Yes, I could,' persisted the sailor, stolidly. So the shep- herd gave in and said he would take him, and, when he had dressed him as a shepherd, he took him to the sheds and showed him a pack of magnificent collies. " 'Here,' he said, 'are the dogs that you w^ill take with you to do the work.' " 'Dogs !' cried the sailor, 'I could never do anything with dogs. I shall leave the dogs here and drive the sheep in myself.' "Believing him, by this time, to be quite mad, the shepherd watched him go away, and had forgotten all about him when, the next night, there was a rap at the door of his cot, and there the sailor stood. " 'What do you want now ?' demanded the shepherd, an- grily. " 'The sheep are all in,' announced the sailor. "In amazement the shepherd followed the man to the fold, and there, sure enough, were all his sheep safely in. " 'Well, well !' said the shepherd, 'so they are ; but how in the world did you do it?' 178 Capita!. Stories About Famous Americans " 'Oh,' said the sailor, indifferently, 'that's nothing ! The only things that gave me any trouble at all were the little lambs, and I did have an awful time with them.' "The shepherd looked where he pointed, and saw a dozen jack rabbits that the sailor had driven in for lambs. "The point was one of those growing ideas that everbody .sees little by little, and the appreciation was so general at last that it looked like a perfectly new story. Alas! the laughter had not fairly died away before, from my right, a melancholy- looking man with a crepe beard murmured : — " 'Good ! Good ! I've usually heard that told with little wildcats instead of jack rabbits.' " BENJAMIN FRANKLIN A LESSON IN TIME VALUE FRANKLIN not only understood the value of time, but he put a price upon it that made others appreciate its worth. A customer who came one day to his little bookstore in Philadelphia, not being satisfied with the price demanded by the clerk for the book he wished to purchase, asked for the proprietor. "Mr. Franklin is very busy just now in the press- room," replied the clerk. The man, however, who had already spent an hour aimlessly turning over books, insisted on seeing him. In answer to the clerk's summons, Mr. Franklin hurried out from the newspaper establishment at the back of the store. "What is the lowest price you can take for this book, sir?" asked the leisurely customer, holding up the volume. "One dollar and a quarter," was the prompt reply. "A dollar and a quarter ! Why, your clerk asked me only a dollar just now." "True," said Franklin, "and I could have better afforded to take a dollar than to leave my work." The man, who seemed to be in doubt as to whether Mr. Franklin was in earnest, said jokingly: "Well, come now, Be;njamin Franklin 179 tell me the lowest price for this book." "One dollar and a half," was the grave reply. "A dollar and a half! Why, you just offered it for a dollar and a quarter." "Yes, and I could better have taken that price then than a ■dollar and a half now." Without another word, the crestfallen purchaser laid the money on the counter and left the store. He had learned not only that he who squanders his own time is foolish, but that he who wastes the time of others is a thief. HUNTING FOR AN EXCUSE When Franklin ran away from Boston for New York, he escaped by boat. When the sloop was becalmed one day off Block Island, the sailors amused themselves by fishing for cod, as becalmed sailors and yachtsmen do to this day off that coast. Benjamin, who still adhered to his vegetarian theory, regarded the taking of life for the sake of procuring food as murder. Fishing, in particular, was murder unprovoked ; for no one could contend that these cod, which the sailors kept hauling up over the sloop's bulwarks and slapping down upon the deck, had wrought any harm to their captors. This argument, so long as the mere catching continued, seemed unanswerable; but when, by and by, the cod began to send forth a most alluring odor from the frying-pan, the tempted vegetarian, who had formerly been extremely fond of fish, found it necessary to go over his reasoning again, to see if there was not a flaw in it. He was unhappy at not being able to find one, and for some minutes there was a struggle between principle and inclination. It occurred to him, at length, that when the fish were opened he had seen smaller fish in their stomachs. "If you eat one an- other," said he to himself, "I don't see why we may not eat you." So he dined upon cod very heartily, and continued afterwards to eat what other people ate. After telling this i8o Capital Storiks About Famous Americans story he makes an observation which is often attributed to Talleyrand and others, but which was a familiar joke with Franklin when Talleyrand was a boy. ''So convenient a thing it is," says Franklin, "to be a reasonable creature, since it en- ables one to find or make a reason for every thing- one has a mind to do." WATER DRINKER Speaking of his experience in London as a printer, his biographer says of him : "At this period of his life Franklin drank only wafer. His fellow-pressmen, nearly fifty in number, were great drinkers of beer. Nevertheless, the Water-American, as they nick- named him, carried up and down stairs a form on each hand, while the beer-drinkers carried but one on both hands. They wondered that he, who, they supposed, derived no strength from his drink, should be stronger than themselves who drank strong beer. 'My companion at the press,' says Franklin, 'drank every day a pint before breakfast, a pint at breakfast with his bread and cheese, a pint between breakfast and dinner, a pint at dinner; a pint in the afternoon about six o'clock, and another when he had done his day's work. I thought it a de- testable custom ; but it was necessary, he supposed, to drink strong beer, that he might be strong to labor. I endeavored to convince him that the bodily strength afforded by beer could only be in proportion to the grain or flour of the barley, dissolved in the water of which it was made; that there was more flour in a pennyworth of bread, and, therefore, if he could eat that with a pint of water, it would give him more strength than a quart of beer. He drank on, however, and had four or five shillings to pay out of his wages every Saturday night for that vile liquor : an expense I was free from ; and thus these poor fellows keep themselves always under by being slaves to a bad habit." Benjamin Franklin i8i FRANKLIN'S WONDERFUL KITE It was in the June thunder-storms of 1752 that Frankhn's immortal kite was flown. Parton thus tells the story. "Who does not know the story? How he made his kite of a large silk handkerchief, fastened to the top of a per- pendicular stick, a piece of sharpened iron-wire. How he stole away, upon the approach of a storm, into the commons not far from his own house, say about the corner of Race and Eighth Streets, near a spot where there was an old cowshed. How, wishing to avoid the ridicule of possible failure, he told no one what he was going to do, except his son, who accom- panied him, and who was then not the small boy he is repre- sented in a hundred pictures, but a braw lad of twenty-two, one of the beaux of Philadelphia. How the kite was raised in time for the coming gust, the string being hempen, except the part held in the hand, which was silk. How, at the termi- nation of the hempen string a common key was fastened ; and in the shed was deposited a Leyden bottle, in which to collect from the clouds, if the clouds should prove to contain it, the material requisite for an electric shock. How father and son stood for some time under the shed, presenting the spectacle, if there had been any one to behold it, of two escaped lunatics flying a kite in the rain ; the young gentleman, no doubt, feeling a little foolish. How, at last, when a thunder-cloud appeared to pass directly over the kite, and yet no sign of electricity ap- peared, the hopes of the father, too, began to grow faint. How, when both were ready to despair of success, Franklin's heart stood still, as he suddenly observed the fibres of the hempen string to rise, as a boy's hair rises when he stands on the insulating stool. How, with eager, trembling hand, he applied his knuckle to the key and drew therefrom an unmis- takable spark, and another and another, and as many as he chose. How the Leyden phial was charged, and both received the most thrilling shock ever experienced by man ; a shock that i82 Capital Stories About Famous Americans might have been figuratively styled electric, if electric it had not really been. How, the wet kite being drawn in, and the apparatus packed, the philosopher went home exulting — the happiest philosopher in Christendom. "And this was only the beginning of triumph. The next ships that arrived from the Old World, brought him the news that the same experiment, in the mode originally suggested by- him of erecting an iron rod upon an eminence, had been suc- cessfully performed in France, so that his name had suddenly become one of the most famous in Europe." ROBERT FULTON THE SAILING OF THE FIRST STEAMBOAT JUSTICE JOSEPH STORY, in an address delivered before the Boston Mechanic's Institute in 1829, gave the follow- ing interesting account of the building and sailing of the first steamboat by Fulton, as he received it from the lips of that distinguished inventor and mechanic : " 'When,' said Fulton, 'I was building my first steamboat at New York, the project was viewed by the public either with indifiference, or with contempt, as a visionary scheme. My friends, indeed, were civil, but they were shy. They listened with patience to my explanations, but with a settled cast of incredulity on their countenances. I felt the full force of the lamentation of the poet, — "Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land ? All fear, none aid you, and few understand." As I had occasion to pass daily to and from the building- yard, while my boat was in progress, I have often loitered unknown near the idle groups of strangers, gathering in little circles, and heard various inquiries as to the object of this new vehicle. The language was uniformly that of scorn, or sneer, or ridicule. The loud laugh often rose at my expense ; Robert Fui^ton 183 the dry jest; the wise calculation of losses and expenditures; the dull, but endless, repetition of the Fulton folly. Never did a single encouraging remark, a bright hope, or a warm wish, cross my path. Silence itself was but politeness, veiling its doubts, or hiding its reproaches. At length the day arrived when the experiment was to be put into operation. To me it was a most trying and interesting occasion. I invited many friends to go on board to witness the first successful trip. Many of them did me the favor to attend, as a matter of per- sonal respect; but it was manifest that they did it with reluct- ance, fearing to be the partners of my mortification and not of my triumph. I was well aware, that in my case there were many reasons to doubt of my own success. The machinery was new and ill made; many parts of it were constructed by mechanics unaccustomed to such work ; and unexpected diffi- culties might reasonably be presumed to present themselves from other causes. The moment arrived in which the word was to be given for the vessel to move. My friends were in groups on the deck. There was anxiety, mixed with fear, among them. They were silent, and sad, and weary. I read in their looks nothing but disaster, and almost repented of my efforts. The signal was given, and the boat moved on a short distance, and then stopped, and became immovable. To the silence of the preceding moment now succeeded murmurs of discontent, and agitations, and whispers, and shrugs. I could hear distinctly repeated, 'I told you it would be so — it is a foolish scheme — I wish we were all out of it.' I elevated my- self upon a platform, and addressed the assembly. I stated that I knew not what was the matter ; but if they would be quiet, and indulge me for a half hour, I would either go on, or abandon the voyage for that time. This short respite was con- ceded without objection. I went below, examined the ma- chinery, and discovered that the cause was a slight malad- justment of some of the work. In a short period it was obvi- 1 84 Capital, Stories About Famous Americans ated. The boat was again put in motion. She continued to move on. All were still incredulous. None seemed willing to trust the evidence of their own senses. We left the fair city of New York ; we passed through the romantic and ever-varying scenery of the highlands ; we descried the clustering houses of Albany ; we reached its shores ; and then, even then, when all seemed achieved, I was the victim of disappointment. Imagi- nation superseded the influence of fact. It was then doubted if it could be done again ; or if done, it was doubted if it could be made of any great value. "Such was the history of the first experiment, as it fell, not in the very language which I used, but in its substance, from the lips of the inventor. He did not live, indeed, to enjoy the full glory of his invention. It is mournful to say that attempts were made to rob him, in the first place, of the merit of his in- vention, and, next, of its fruits. He fell a victim to his efforts to sustain his title to both. When already his invention had covered the waters of the Hudson, he seemed little satisfied with the results, and looked forward to far more extensive operations. 'My ultimate triumph,' he used to say, 'my ulti- mate triumph will be on the Mississippi. I know, indeed, that even now, it is deemed impossible by many that the difficulties of navigation can be overcome, but I am confident of success. I may not live to see it; but the Mississippi will yet be cov- ered by steamboats ; and thus an entire change be wrought in the course of the internal navigation and commerce of our country.' " FREDERICK FUNSTON HOW HE WON HONORS 'T^HOMAS R. DAWLEY, Jr., related some years ago in the -^ Success magazine, this striking story of a Kansas boy who, without friends or a pull of any kind, came to be a Frederick Funston 185 Brigadier-General at thirty-eight. Dawley writes as follows : "Brigadier-General Frederick Funston made his own oppor- tunities and took the best advantage of them. He is a Kansan, and now, at the early age of thirty-eight, he finds himself the youngest officer in the regular army holding his high rank, with the prospect of becoming the Commander-in-Chief. "His beginning was small. In the summer of 1896, he ar- rived in New York with limited funds, and unknown. The newspapers were teeming with accounts of the struggles of the Cuban patriots, and Funston, fired with a desire for warfare, applied to the Cuban Junta for a chance to serve in its army. He met with little encouragement. The young Kansan, learn- ing the kind of field guns that were being sent to Cuba, applied to the New York agents for instructions in handling them. He was shown one of the guns and received a half-hour's in- struction in finding the range and sighting it. He then re- turned to the Cuban Junta, announced himself an artilleryman, and received a promise to be sent on the next expedition, "But there was no money in sight. The Cuban patriots were fighting without pay. The need of money appealed strongly to Funston. Having done some newspaper writing, he applied to several New York papers for a commission as a correspond- ent while serving in the Cuban army. He met with little en- couragement until the managing editor of Harper's Weekly promised to consider any article and illustrations he might send. Funston, armed with a commission, departed. "Early in the following year, I was directed to find General Gomez and his army, by Harper's Weekly. The editor told me that he had arranged with a little fellow from Kansas to send him information directly from the insurgents, but had re- ceived nothing from him. Consequently, when I joined Gomez, I was surprised to find only one American with him. I inquired for the 'little fellow from Kansas' who had been commissioned as a correspondent of my paper. i86 CAriTAi, Stories About Famous Americans " 'Oh, that's Funston,' said Smith ; 'he turned up at Cas- cara. I never saw anything hke it. The Cubans had a Hotch- kiss fieldpiece, and were trying to hit a Spanish blockhouse. They were shooting all around it, when little Funston said, 'Let me try.' They let him try, and he hit that blockhouse the first shot, and kept on hitting it. They were so tickled that they made him a colonel, and he is somewhere with Garcia.' "I did not meet Funston until after the breaking out of hos- tilities with Spain. I had been assigned by General Miles to the bureau of military intelligence, and was sent to Tampa, Florida. Funston had been appointed colonel of a Kansas reg- iment by the governor of his State; but, believing his knowl- edge of the Cubans would entitle him to a staff position, he went to Washington, and was ordered to the bureau. "I heard some talk around army headquarters, at Tampa Bay Hotel, of a stray colonel from the West, whose regiment had been ordered to the Philippines. He was described as a country, unmilitary-looking chap, and the questions of how he had received his appointment and why he had left his regiment were discussed. He was pointed out as the man with some political pull, and no previous military training, who would outrank officers of the regulars, who had grown gray in the service. "The next day, I observed a little man with a full beard sitting at one side of the foyer of the hotel. He was dressed in white duck trousers and a black jacket. A thin crop of hair on the top of his head showed a tendency to baldness. "If an ordinary tramp had been washed and dressed in a cheap suit of store goods, and set down in the luxuriously ap- pointed hotel, he could not have appeared more out of place than did that little man. Many of our army officers passed him, looking everywhere except in his direction. He not only seemed strangely out of place, but evidently felt that he was. Finally he came over to me and introduced himself: Frederick Funston 187 " 'My name is Funston,' he said, 'and I heard of you in Cuba.' "I was pleased to talk with him, and we at once became friends. He had found a boarding-house on the other side of the river. After comparing notes, I concluded to try the table he recommended as being 'all right'; and during the rest of our stay in Tampa we boarded together. He was evidently as disappointed as I was, to learn that we were detailed to watch alleged Spanish spies in Tampa, when we supposed that we were going at the head of the army in Cuba as scouts, or volunteer aids. He was without a uniform, and Colonel Wag- oner, who was at the head of the bureau, gave him one of his old blouses, which Funston took to a tailor to be refitted. But there was something the matter with the tailor or the blouse or Funston ; he wore the garment with the Colonel's straps over his white trousers, and looked more out of place than ever. "On the return of Lieutenant Rowan from taking a message to Garcia, a story was circulated that Funston had deserted from the Cuban army. Funston and I had agreed that there was no Cuban army, nothing more than bands of bush- whackers ; and, when the story of his desertion was circulated with increased persistency, and its confirmation attributed to Lieutenant Rowan, he was greatly worried over the matter. "The facts of the case were these: Funston had endured the hardships of a year's campaign with the Cubans; he had fought faithfully for them without pay; had successfully han- dled their meagre artillery; and, at the end of the year, had applied for permission to return home. The permission was not forthcoming; finally, in a spirit of disgust, he mounted his horse, rode away from the Cuban camp, and, presenting him- self before a blockhouse on the Junero-Maron trocha, threw up his haittls and surrendered. The Spaniards took him in, fed him, and sent him to Consul-General Lee. Mr. Lee sent him home. Funston never betrayed the Cubans. i88 CAriTAi, Stories About Famous Americans "When he came to me in his trouble, I told him that he had only done precisely what 1 should have done under similar circumstances, and precisely what hundreds of Cubans had done during the insurrection. I advised him to retaliate by telling just what he did know about the Cubans. He answered that it did not pay to say anything against the Cubans, and he was right. "Nor did the Cuban politicians want anyone in the govern- ment service who knew too much about their methods in Cuba. Funston and I were both ostracized by them, and efforts were made to have us discharged from the service. They were suc- cessful. Colonel Wagner called me into his private ofifice and informed me that I was discharged. He very generously gave me a written statement, commending my services, and dis- charged me. "I felt very much chagrined at the turn affairs had taken, for I had endeavored to give exact information concerning the Cuban army, just as I had found it in the woods of Cuba. Finding myself ignominiously cast aside, I went to Funston with the news. "Funston was living down the prejudice against him that had been cultivated by some of the army officers, and was trying to get a position on the staff of General Wheeler. The latter appeared to favor him, but the appointment had to be made from Washington, and he could not get it. " 'Well,' he said, seeming to lose hope, *I don't suppose there is anything for me to do but stick to the 'spy bureau!' That was what he called the exalted department of military information. "About half an hour later I met him on the street. He was coming from Colonel Wagner's headquarters. He had a very long face. I knew some disappointment had occurred, and questioned him. " 'I have been fired from the 'spy bureau/ too,' he replied. Lyman G. Gag^ iS^ "He was disheartened and disgusted over his discharge. His aim had been to go to Cuba and take an active part in the campaign. He wanted to show his mettle. But it seemed that there was not the slightest chance for him to display his cour- age. However, he had his volunteer regiment to fall back on. He secured transportation to San Francisco and the salary due him up to the date of his discharge, and left Tampa. " 'Perhaps it is the best thing for me, after all,' he said, as he folded his papers and pvit the money in his pocket. Til join my regiment in the Philippines, and, perhaps, there wilt be something doing out there.' "We all know the rest. We know how Funston swam the river and charged the Filipinos in their trenches, and was re- warded by promotion to the rank of Brigadier-General of Vol- unteers. This appointment expired on June i, 1900. Funston knew that his only chance to prove his worth and gain a lasting- rank was to do something definite, something that would ap- peal to the entire nation. What could that be but the capture of Aguinaldo? That was the thing to be done. He worked out the plan, made the opportunity, took advantage of it, and received his reward." LYMAN J. GAGE A CONGRESSMAN WHO WAS HARD OF HEARING AN incident which has caused Secretary Gage to be ex- -^ ceedingly cautious of "deaf men" occurred recently. Congressman John H. Ketcham, of Dover Plains, New York, is more or less hard of hearing. He holds his hand up to his ear while you are addressing him, and manages to catch your meaning fairly well. Just how much he hears is open to question, and the Secretary of the Treasury, for one, has his own suspicions that "Uncle John" is not quite so deaf as he appears. It happened this way : 190 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans Mr. Ketcham had been in Congress so long that he had used up all the patronage to which he was entitled, and couldn't get any more places for his constituents. But one day this spring he called on Mr. Gage. "There is a man up in my town," he explained, "who must be fixed, and I want you to fix him." "I can't do it," replied Gage (and up went Ketcham's hand to his ear), "because there are no vacancies in my department." "Yes, that's what he wants," said Ketcham, "a place in your department." The Secretary looked at his visitor intently, and said, in a low^er tone: "The civil service rules cover all appointments under twelve hundred or fifteen hundred dollars a year," Mr. Ketcham removed his hand from his right ear and re- plied : "That will be satisfactory. He will not expect more than twelve hundred dollars a year." Mr, Gage was growing desperate. "I tell you," he fairly yelled, "I can't do anything for your man. There is no use bringing him down here !" "All right !" said the imperturbable Congressman, rising, "I'll bring him down," and out he walked, leaving the Secre- tary in a state of collapse. Sure enough, a day or two later, the deaf man walked in with a constituent, "Here is my friend that you promised to place," he said. "Good Lord!" said Gage (and up went the other's hand), "didn't I tell you I could do nothing, absolutelv nothing?" "Hey?" "Didn't I tell you not to bring your man here, because I had no place for him ?" "No ; you said you would give him a place at about twelve hundred dollars ; so I sent for him, and here he is." John B. Gough 191 The Secretary was in despair. He looked the Congressman in the face, — it was a blank. In sheer desperation he tapped a bell for an assistant, told the latter to take the constituent to Mr. B , and, if possible, to find him a place. The Con- gressman shook hands all around, and departed with an ex- pression of benevolence on his countenance. The man got a fairly good place. The Congressman is still rather deaf. The Secretary — well, he has his own suspicions. JOHN B. GOUGH THE TAP ON THE SHOULDER JOHN B. GOUGH, the famous temperance orator, tells this striking story of the beginning of his redemption from strong drink. He says : "Some one tapped me on the shoulder, an unusual thing that, to occur to me ; for no one now cared to come in contact with the wretched, shabby looking drunkard. I was a disgrace, 'a living, walking disgrace.' I could scarcely believe my own senses when I turned and met a kind look; the thing was so unusual, and so entirely unexpected, that I questioned' the reality of it, — but so it was. It was the first touch of kindness which I had known for months; it went right to my heart, and, like the wing of an angel, troubled the waters in that stagnant pool of affection, and made them once more reflect a little of the light of human love. The person who touched my shoulder was an entire stranger. Regarding me very earnestly, and apparently with much interest, he said : "'Mr. Gough, I believe?' " 'That is my name,' I replied, and was passing on. " 'You have been drinking to-day,' said the stranger, in a kind voice, which arrested my attention, and quite dispelled any anger at what I might otherwise have considered an of- ficious interference in my affairs. 192 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans " 'Yes, sir,' I replied, 'I have.' " 'Why do you not sign the pledge?' was the next query. ''I considered for a minute or two, and then informed the ■strange friend, who had so unexpectedly interested himself in my behalf, that 1 had no hope of ever again becoming a sober man ; that I was without a single friend in the world who cared for me, or what became of me ; that I fully expected to die very soon, — I cared not how soon, or whether I died drunk or sober ; and, in fact, that I was in a condition of utter recklessness. "The stranger regarded me with a benevolent look, took me by the arm, and asked me how I should like to be as I once was, respectable and esteemed, well clad, and sitting as I used to, in a place of worship; enabled to meet my friends as in old times, and receive from them the pleasant nod of recognition as formerly, — in fact, become a useful member of society? 'Oh,' I replied, 'I should like all these things first rate; but I have no expectation that such a thing will ever happen. Such a change •cannot be possible.' " 'Only sign our pledge,' remarked my friend, 'and I will warrant that it shall be so. Sign it, and I will introduce you myself to good friends, who will feel an interest in your wel- fare and take a pleasure in helping you to keep your good res- olutions. Only, Mr. Gough, sign the pledge, and all will be as I have said ; ay, and more too ?' "Oh ! how pleasantly fell these words of kindness and promise on my crushed and bruised heart. I had long been a stranger to feelings such as now awoke in my bosom. A chord had been touched which vibrated to the tone of love. Hope once more dawned; and I began to think, strange as it ap- peared, that such things as my friend promised me might come to pass. On the instant I resolved to try, at least, and said to the stranger: " 'Well, I will sign it.' "'When?' he asked. John B. Gough 193 "'I cannot do so to-night,' I replied, 'for I 7nust have some more drink presently; but I certainly will to-morrow.' " 'We have a temperance meeting to-morrow evening,' he said ; 'will you sign it then ?' " 'I will.' " 'That is right,' said he, grasping my hand ; 'I will be there to see you?' " 'You shall,' I remarked, and we parted. "I went on my way much touched by the kind interest which, at last, some one had taken in my welfare. I said to my- self : 'If it should be the last act of my life, I will perform my promise and sign it, even though I die in the attempt ; for that man has placed confidence in me, on that account I love him.' A BATTLE FOR LIFE Gough tells this thrilling story of his wonderful battle against appetite after he had signed the pledge. The story begins with the next morning: "After breakfast, I proceeded to the shop where I was employed, feeling dreadfully ill. I determined, however, to put a bold face on the matter, and, in spite of the cloud which seemed to hang over me, attempt to work. I was exceedingly weak, and fancied, as I almost reeled about the shop, that every eye was fixed upon me suspiciously, although I exerted myself to the utmost to conceal my agitation. I was sufi^cring ; and those who have never thus suffered cannot comprehend it. The shivering of the spine ; then, flushes of heat, causing every pore of the body to sting, as if punctured with some sharp in- strument ; the horrible whisperings in the ear, combined with a longing cry of the whole system for stimulants : 'One glass of brandy would steady my shaking nerves ; I cannot hold my hands still ; I cannot stand still ; a young man but twenty-five years of age, and I have no control of my nerves ; one glass of brandy would relieve this annoying, aching, throbbing 194 Capital Stories About Famous Americans stomach ; but I have signed the pledge, — I do agree that I will not use it, — and I must fight it out.' How I got through the day I cannot tell. I went to my employer at one time during the day and said: " 'I signed the pledge last night.' " 'I know you did.' " 'I mean to keep it.' " 'So they all say, and I hope you will.' " 'You do not believe I will ; you have no confidence in me.' " 'None whatever.' "I turned to my work, broken-hearted, crushed in spirit, paralyzed in energy, feeling how low I had sunk in the esteem of prudent and sober-minded men. Suddenly the small iron bar I held in my hand began to move ; I felt it move, I griped it, — still it moved and twisted ; I gripped still harder, — yet the thing would move till I could feel it — yes, feci it — tearing the palm out of my hand, then I dropped it, — and there it lay, a curling, slimy snake ! I could hear the paper shavings rustle as the horrible thing writhed before me! If it had been a snake, I should not have minded it. I was never afraid of a snake ; I should have called some one to look at it ; I could have killed it. I should not have been terrified at a thing; but I knew it was a cold, dead bar of iron, and there it was, with its green eyes, its forked, darting tongue, curling in all its slimy loathsomeness ! and the horror filled me so that my hair seemed to stand up and shiver, and my skin lift from the scalp to the ankles, and I groaned out, 'I cannot fight this through! Oh ! my God, I shall die ! I cannot fight it !' — when a gentle- man came into the shop with a cheerful — " 'Good morning, Mr. Gough.' " 'Good morning, sir.' " 'I saw you sign the pledge last night.' " 'Yes, sir, I did it.' 'I was very glad to see you do it, and many young men John B. Gough 195 followed your example. It is just such men as you that we want, and 1 hope you will be the means of doing a great deal of good. My office is in the Exchange; come in and see me. I shall be happy to make your acquaintance. I have only a minute or two to spare, but I thought I would just call in and tell you to keep up a brave heart. Good-bye; God bless you. Come in and see me.' "That was Jesse Goodrich, then a practicing attorney and counselor-at-law, in Worcester, now dead, but to the last of his life my true and faithful friend. It would be impossible to describe how this little act of kindness cheered me. With the exception of Joel Stratton, who was a waiter at a tem- perance hotel, and who had asked me to sign the pledge, no one had accosted me for months in a manner which would lead me to think any one cared for me, or what might be my fate. Now I was not altogether alone in the world ; there was a hope of my being rescued from the 'slough of despond,' where I had been so long floundering. I felt that the fountain of human kindness was not utterly sealed up, and again a green spot, an oasis — small indeed, but cheering — appeared in the desert of life. I had something now to live for; a new desire fpr life seemed suddenly to spring up ; the universal boundary of human sympathy included even my wretched self in its cheer- ing circle. All these sensations were generated by a few kind words at the right time. Yes, now I can fight, — and I did fight, six days and six nights, — encouraged and helped by a few words of sympathy. He said, come in and see me; I will. He said he would be pleased to make my acquaintance; he shall. He said, keep up a brave heart; by God's help, I will. And encouraged, I fought on, with not one hour of healthy sleep, not one particle of food passing my lips, for six days and nights. What a lesson of love should not this teach us'l" But the struggle was not over. Gough paints a horrible 196 Capital Stories About Famous Americans picture of a night when : "Horrible faces glared upon me from the walls — faces ever changing, and displaying new and still more horrible features ; black, bloated insects crawled over my face ; and myriads of burning, concentric rings were revolving incessantly. At one moment the chamber appeared as red as blood, and in a twinkling it was dark as the charnel-house. I seemed to have a knife with hundreds of blades in my hand, everv blade driven through the flesh, and all so inextricably bent and tangled together that I could not withdraw them for some time; and when I did, from my lacerated fingers the bloody fibres would stretch out all quivering with life. After a frightful paroxysm of this kind, I would start like a maniac from my bed, and beg for life, life! What I of late thought so worthless, seemed now to be of unappreciable value. I dreaded to die, and clung to existence with a feeling that my soul's salvation depended on a little more of life. A great por- tion of this time I spent alone ; no mother's hand was near to wipe the big drops of perspiration from my brow ; no kind voice cheered me in my solitude. Alone I encountered all the host of demoniac forms which crowded my chamber. No one witnessed my agonies, or counted my w^oes, and yet I re- covered ; how, still remains a mystery to myself ; and still more mysterious was the fact of my concealing my sufferings from every mortal eye. "In a week, I gained, in a great degree, the mastery over my accursed appetite; but the strife had made me dreadfully weak. Gradually my health improved, my spirits recovered, and I ceased to despair. Once more was I enabled to crawl into the sunshine; but, oh, how changed! Wan cheeks and hollow eyes, feeble limbs, and almost powerless hands, plainly enough indicated that between me and death there had indeed been but a step; and those who saw me, might say, as was said of Dante when he passed through the streets of Florence : 'There's the man that has been in hell.' " John B. Gough 197 THE TRANSFORMATION OF "HELL-FIRE" Mr. Gough tells this remarkable story of the redemption of a Scotch woman in Glasgow : "On one occasion as I entered the audience room, where some hundreds had assembled, with the Provost of the Bor- ough and the minister of the town who accompanied me, the former said, as we came in : 'Mr. Gough, you have 'Fire' in the house to-night.' "I asked, 'What do you mean?' "He said, 'Do you see that tall woman, near the platform?' " 'Yes.' " 'Her nickname is 'Hell-Fire ;' she is known by no other name in the vicinity of her wretched residence. When she appears in the streets, the boys cry, 'Fire ! Fire !' She is the most incorrigible woman in the borough. She has been brought before me scores of times, and sentenced to from four days to six months. She is ripe for mischief, and if she makes a disturbance, you will see such a row as you never saw be- fore. The power of the woman's tongue in blasphemy is hor- rible.' "When I rose to address the audience I expected a row, and confessed to a nervous feeling of apprehension. I spoke to them as men and women, not as outcasts, or things. I told them poverty was hard to bear ; but there might be comfort, light and peace with poverty ; I told them I had been poor, very poor ; spoke to them of my mother and her struggles ; then of her faith, and love, and hope; that there was no degradation in poverty — only sin caused that. In proportion to wrong- doing was the degradation, — and so on, I saw a naked arm and hand lifted in the crowd, and heard a voice cry out : 'That's all true ;' the woman ('Fire') rose to her feet, and facing me said : 'That's a' true, mon, — ye're telling the truth ;' and stretching her arms to the audience said : 'The mon kens what he's talking aboot.' 198 Capital Stories About Famous Americans "When I concluded, she came on the platform and I almost thought she might tackle me. She was a large woman, and looked like a hard hitter, and I never desired to come in con- tact with 'strong-minded' or big-fisted women ; but after look- ing at me a moment, she said : *Tak' a gude look at me, mon. I'm a bit of a beauty, ain't I?' Then, coming close to me, 'Would you gi'e a body like me the pledge?' "I answered at once, 'Yes, ma'am.' "A gentleman said : "She cannot keep it ; she will be drunk before she goes to bed to-night; — ^better not give her the pledge.' "I turned to her: 'Madam, here is a gentleman who says you cannot keep it if you sign it.' "Clenching her fists, she said, 'Show me the mon.' "I asked, 'Can you keep it?' " 'Can I ?— If I say I wull, I can.' " 'Then say you will.' " 'I wull' " 'Give me your hand on that,' — and I shook hands with her. She signed it, and I said: 'I know you will keep it; and before I go to America I will come and see you.' " 'Come and see me when you wull,' she answered, 'and you'll find I ha'e keepit it.' "It must have been two years from that time, I was speak- ing there again, and after the lecture, a gentleman said to me : 'I wish to introduce to you an old friend, whom perhaps you have forgotten, — 'Mrs. Archer,' no longer 'Fire.' "I was introduced and shook hands heartily with her and her daughter, who sat by her. I had noticed the woman dur- ing my speech, for she hardly took her eyes off me from the time I rose till I sat down. I went to her house, and part of what she said to me was this: " 'Ah ! Mr. Gough, I'm a puir body ; I dinna ken much, and what little I ha'e kenned has been knocked out of me bv John B. Gough 199 the staffs of the poHcemen; for they beat me aboot the head a good deal, and knocked prutty much a' the sense out of me ; but sometimes I ha'e a dream — I dream I'm drunk, and ficht- ing, and the pohce ha'e got me again ; and then I get out of my bed, and I go down on my knees, and I don't go back to my bed till the daylight comes, and I keep saying: 'God keep me — for I canna get drunk any mair.' "Her daughter said : 'Aye, mon ; I've heered my mither in the dead of night, on the bare floor, crying 'God keep me;' and I've said, — 'Come to your bed, mither, ye'll be cauld;' and she'll tell me, 'No, no, — I canna get drunk any mair.' "I received a letter from the provost of the borough, dated February, 1869, telling me that Mrs. Archer ('Fire') had been faithful to her promise, was keeping a small provision store or shop ; had taken a little orphan boy out of the streets, and was bringing him up welL" and sending me her photograph. I had heard from various sources she was doing well, and doing good. Soon after she had signed the pledge, she ob- tained employment in sewing coarse sacks, and earned about ten cents per day. Some one gave her a Bible, and wet or dry, rain or shine, she would go every Sabbath to the mission chapel. There she became a Christian ; and I was told that she employed her spare time in endeavoring to reform others." EMBARRASSING GRATITUDE Mr, Gough tells this fascinating story of the gratitude of an Englishman whom he had been instrumental in rescuing from the life of a drunkard : "A man came to me at Covent Garden and said: " 'Mr. Gough, I want you to come into my place of busi- ness.' " 'I'm in a Httle hurry now,' I replied. " 'You must come into my place of business.' *'So when he got me there — into a large fruit store, where 200 CAriTAL S'foRiE;s About Famous Ame;ricans he was doing business to the amount of two hundred and fifty or three hundred pounds ($1,250 or $1,500) a week, — he caught me by the hand and said : " 'God bless you, sir !' "'What for?' " 'I heard you in Exeter Hall a year and a half ago, and signed the pledge. I was a brute.' " 'No, you were not.' " 'Well, I was worse.' " 'No, you were not.' " 'Well, I was as bad as I could be. Look at that cellar ! I spent a whole Sunday in that cellar on a heap of rotten vege- tables with a rope to hang myself by! Now sir, I lease that cellar and clear a hundred pounds a year. God bless you, sir ! See what a business I'm doing. Look here ! See that woman in the corner? She's my wife. La! how I have knocked her about. Would you go and shake hands with her ?' " 'I've no objection.' " 'Do, sir.' "I went up to her and offered her my hand. She held back, and said, 'My fingers are so sticky with the fruit, sir.' " 'La !' said the husband, 'Mr. Gough don't mind sticky fingers.' " 'No, sir,' and I shook hands with her. Our fingers stuck together ! They were stickier than I expected. Again the man said: " 'God bless you, sir ! I wish to give you something. Do you like oranges?' " 'Sometimes.' "He went to a shelf that was full of them, and began to fill a great bag. " 'That's enough,' I said : "But he paid no attention, and went on filling the bag. Then he put it in my arms, and said : HeiwEn Miller Gould 201 " 'There ! Don't say a word ; but go along. God bless you !' "I had positively to hire a cab to take me home." THE KINDNESS OF THE SCOTCH LASSIES Gough gives this pretty little glimpse of the love which the Scotch people came to have for him. He says : "One day, when strolling through Edinburgh, I saw a group of young girls standing in front of their school in the Canongate, looking toward me on the opposite side of the street. Soon they crossed and walked near me. One of them said very modestly : " 'Mr. Gough ha'e ye ony objection to us lassies walkin wi' ye?' " 'Oh, no,' I responded, 'indeed I have not.' " 'We've heerd ye speak in the Music Hall, an' we're a' teetotalers.' "Presently they reached the hotel where Mr. Gough was quartered. Here one said : " 'We'll ye ha'e ony objections to sliakin' hands wi' us lassies ?' "As I took their hands, I heard in that sweet, low Scotch tone : " 'Ye'U soon be gangin' awa' frae Edinburgh, and we'll "weary for ye to come back again. Gude-bye to ye.' " HELEN MILLER GOULD AT MONTAUK POINT IV /TISS GOULD'S practical business sense was beautifully ^-^^ exemplified at Montauk Point. Hundreds of soldiers from the hospitals in Cuba and Porto Rico were suddenly un- loaded there. Elsewhere were government supplies, — tents and cots and rations, — but there the sick soldiers were with- 202 Capita:. Stories About Famous Americans out shelter, were hungry, had no medicine, and were sleeping on the ground. Why? Because of red tape. This young lady appeared in person, and amazed the strutters in shoulder-straps and the slaves to discipline, by having the sick soldier boys made com- fortable on army cots, placed in army tents, and fed on army rations, — and this, too, without any "requisition." She grasped a situation, cut the ropes of theory and introduced practice. From her own purse she provided nurses and dainties, and sent scores of soldier boys to her beautiful villa on the Hudson. The camp rang with this refrain : "You're the angel of the camp, Helen Gould, In the sun-rays, in the damp, On the weary, weary tramp, To our darkness you're a lamp, Helen Gould. "Thoughts of home and gentle things, Helen Gould, To the camp your coming brings ; All the place with music rings At the rustle of your wings, Helen Gould." THE FINEST SAILORS' CLUB IN THE WORLD At the close of the Spanish-American War, our other philanthropist, a sweet-faced dark-haired young woman, was talking with a group of "jackies." They told her their troubles. Most of her friends do this because she is a millionaire in sympathy as well as in dollars. The "jackies" told her that they had no land home, no place but the saloons, where only the spenders arc welcome. JOHN B, GOUGH HENRY WARD BEECHER JOHN BURROUGHS CHARLES WILLIAM ELIOT T. DeWITT TALMAGE CLINTON B FISK Helen Miller Gould 205 "Wait a year and you shall have the best club-house in New York," said she. Next day her architect was sent for. ''Such a club-house will be very expensive," he said. "It will cost four hundred and fifty thousand dollars." "Begin to-morrow," said this young woman with the quiet, decisive ways ; "and let me see all the plans." In a year there stood near the Brooklyn Navy Yard the most unique and magnificent sailors' club in the world. Nine stories of brick and granite — ten stories if you count the roof-garden, with its flowers and electric lights ! And such a complete building! Nothing has been forgotten. If a boy in blue wants lodging, he gets a bed for twenty-five cents. If he is hungry, he gets good food at the poor food price — for example, coffee and rolls for a nickel. If he wants a bath he opens the bath-room door and finds a swimming-pool as big as a parlor. If he wants clean linen, or a shave, or a shine, or a book, or a telephone, or a game of billiards, he can have them all. Everything is first-class. Even the glass of water that he drinks comes from a private artesian well. It is easy to see that the young woman revised the plans. What mere man architect would have arranged for six hun- dred and fifty-six lockers? Here, at last, is a building with enough closet-room. What masculine architect, with pockets, would have thought of a free deposit safe for money and valuables? What practical male builder would have found a place for a dark room for amateur photographers? Or for a laundry with electric flat-irons ? This philanthropist, too, is busy signing checks and manag- ing her properties ; but she has time to visit the sailors' club on Sundays, when meetings are held in its little theatre. She has time to show the boys that she can knock down the pins in the bowling-alley as well as any of them. She has time to send them some of the rare paintings from her Fifth Avenue 2o6 Capital Stories About Famous Americans home. She has time to accept the bouquets of roses that they buy for her. Such is our second philanthropist. Is it any wonder that Admiral Dewey once made the remark, "If the men on the American battleships had their way, there would be a statue of Helen Gould on every fighting craft that flies the Stars and Stripes." ULYSSES S. GRANT A NEW HORSE EX-SENATOR JOHN P. JONES not long ago told a story of General Grant and Roscoe Conkling, illustra- tive of Grant's love for horses. He said : "President Grant and Conkling were alike only in one particular. Neither knew anything about the mean art of assembling or conserving money. The result was that both were always hard up. Next to his family and his friends, Grant loved a good horse better than anything else in the world. A butcher in Washington owned one of the finest driving horses I ever saw, and from the moment Grant clapped his eyes on that proud, high-stepping animal his very soul yearned to possess it. He dared not tell anybody of his desire to own the horse because he feared some overzealous friend or scheming lobbyist would buy it and give it to him. Only to me did he confide this secret of his heart — for such it really was. "I watched developments with keen interest, confident what the outcome would be in spite of my knowledge that Grant was never harder up than he was just then. Congress had not at that time increased the President's salary from twenty-five thousand dollars to fifty thousand dollars, and Grant actually needed every cent of his salary to make both ends meet. But just as I confidently expected, it wasn't long before Grant UivYSSES S. Grant 207 bought the butcher's horse — he had to give six hundred dollars for it. The day after the purchase Grant invited Conkling and me to see the horse, though just why he wanted Conkling — who cared nothing at all for horses — to come along I was un- able to guess, unless it was that he wanted to get another lec- ture from the imperious New Yorker for extravagance. The horse was tethered in the back lot of the White House. " 'Isn't he fine, Jones ?' Grant said to me. "I assented. " 'Don't you think he's magnificent, Conkling?' Grant then exclaimed, stroking the animal's fine mane. " *I guess he'll do,' replied Conkling. 'But how much did you give for him ?' " 'Six hundred dollars,' responded Grant. " 'Umph !' snapped Conkling. 'All I've got to say is that I would rather have six hundred dollars than the horse.' " 'That's what the butcher thought,' said Grant, as he nudged me in the ribs with an elbow. "And Conkling, tossing his nose in the air, strode majesti- cally back to the White House ahead of us, and didn't even wait to say 'Good-day' to the President." LACK OF BUTTER GAVE HIM A START Eager, panting, breathless from a long run in the fresh morning air, a youth, between sixteen and seventeen years old, presented himself before the representative of his district. "Mr. Hammer," he began, without parley or preamble, "will you appoint me to West Point ?" Looking at him in amazement, the Congressman promptly replied, "No, Davis is there, and has three years to serve." "But suppose he should fail," continued the boy, "would you send me?" "If he doesn't go through," replied the Congressman, "it is no use for you to try, Uly." 2oS Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans "Promise that you will give me the chance, anyhow, Mr. Hammer," urged the youth. The promise was readily given, and, much to the Congress- man's astonishment, he was called upon the next day to make it good. Davis, the defeated candidate, returned home, and Ulysses S. Grant, receiving the appointment to West Point, took his first step toward being a general and holding the liighest office in the gift of his countrymen, — that of President of the United States. On that eventful morning, which marked the turning point in his life, Grant's mother, through some oversight, found her- self without butter for breakfast, and sent the lad to borrow some from a neighbor. Entering the house to which he had been sent, without knocking, he overheard the reading of a letter from young Davis, stating that he had failed in his West Point examination, and would return home. Quick as lightning, Grant's resolve was made. Getting the butter, he rushed home, and, without waiting for breakfast, ran to the office of the district Congressman, and begged for the appointment to West Point, as he knew that one must soon be made. In telling the story in after years. General Grant was wont to add: "Now, it was my mother's being without butter that made me a General and President." GRANT AT LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN Congressman R. H. Freer tells this interesting story of Lookout Mountain : "The Battle of Lookout Mountain undoubtedly led to Grant's appointment to the position of Commander-in-Chief of the army. General Rosecrans had been overwhelmingly de- feated, and the troops under him were penned up at Chicka- mauga, hungry, ragged and discouraged, facing starvation or surrender, with General Bragg looking down from the heights Ulysses S. Grant 209' upon us and counting the hours until we should be sent to the South under guard as his prisoners. "At this most disheartening time, General Grant came to take command, and to get us out of the trap. His first move was to get us something to eat, for we were on a half ration of hardtack and what the boys called 'beef dried on the hoof,' which the flesh of the starved animals certainly resembled. Within five days of General Grant's arrival the famous 'cracker line' was established. General Bragg held such a position that,, although we were only twenty-six miles from our supplies by rail, they had to be dragged sixty miles over all but impassable mountain roads. The rebel chieftain saw the advantage of maintaining this state of things, and made an attempt to break the 'cracker line.' General Hooker ordered General Howard to protect it, and Howard made a dash up the hill in the dark and did good work, but the 'line' was really saved by an occurrence strangely resembling a recent South African inci- dent. The mules attached to his command became frightened and stampeded toward the enemy, who, supposing that this was a charge, in turn, stampeded and fled. Thus the 'cracker line' was preserved, never to be again attacked. We were now put on full rations, and this, with General Grant's strong, re- assuring presence, made new men of us. There was one regi- ment of mere boys, the Eighty-sixth Ohio. The Colonel was only twenty-three years old, and one of his companies had just one man old enough to be really entitled to the name, and to vote. The youthful appearance of this regiment is best described by relating an incident that occurred when we were detailed to take charge of a lot of tall, lean Georgians, who had been taken prisoners. I was at the rear end of my company, being the smallest and youngest, — just fifteen years old. An especially tall and strapping Georgian leaned over and drawled out : 'Whar did you 'uns git that thar regiment ?' "I bristled up and replied indignantly : 'In Ohio, sir.' 210 CAriTAiv Stories About Famous Americans " 'Well, you 'uns must have bruk up every school in the State to get it. Why, them kids ain't old enough to chaw tubacker,' he replied. "Only half of these boys ever returned to their homes and their schools, and but one-half of those who survived the war are now alive. Our young Colonel, Wilson E. Lemert, showed us at our last reunion a picture of his trained horse that we saw shot under him the day of the wonderful rush up the mountain. We could then only replace his beautiful black horse with a big white mule. On this he led us into the thick- est of the fight. Perhaps we boys would have seen more if we had not pulled our caps down so closely and attended so strictly to the business of getting up to that first line of rifle- pits, which we were ordered to take, and then to stop and re- form. When we reached this point, however, our ranks were swept by a sudden and mighty impulse. There was no waiting for new orders then ; as one man, we dashed up and over the second line of defense, until we were so close upon the enemy that their rear comrades could not shoot us without endanger- ing those in front; and, when we reached the top, we were upon the heels of the last man in gray going down the other side. "This battle, fought partly above the clouds, is said to have been won by General Grant and the private soldiers, and so it was, for we had learned to know and trust him at Vicks- burg. "I was an orderly on General Grant's staff, and was sent one day with dispatches on his fine little black horse, loaned me for the occasion. As I returned with the replies, I rushed around a bend in the road into what looked like a full brigade of the enemy. I wheeled and started to run for it, with, it seemed to me, every 'reb' in the lot shooting at me. My horse was shot, and I went flying over his head. I landed on all fours, and continued on my way in this position, as I had Ulysses S. Grant 211 neither time to get up nor desire to be a more conspicuous mark, until I got around that bend in the road. Then I made record-breaking time to our camp. I ran up, all covered with blood and dust, and handed my dispatches to a lieutenant, who gave them to the General. After reading the dispatches, the great commander turned and looked me over in his quiet way, and said, 'Give this orderly another horse.' He must have been angry, too, at my losing his favorite horse. "I heard General Grant say to General Thomas, just before the famous charge up the hill : 'If we don't win this fight, I know one General who will lose his shoulder-straps.' He looked keenly at Thomas, as he said it in his quiet, earnest way, and, turning on his heel, walked to his tent. There had been some friction between them, owing to General Grant's superseding the other General in the full command. "The next time I saw General Grant was during the year 1872. I was introduced to him in Washington, by a Senator from our State, as the newly-appointed Consul to Nicaragua. I said, 'General, we have met before, — at Vicksburg.' He gave me one long, earnest look, and said, 'Yes, you are the boy who got my horse shot.' "The President seemed genuinely pleased at meeting me again, and inquired whether my consular appointment suited me, adding: " 'Why did you not come to me direct ? I would have found you something better.' "But I was contented and told him so, being especially pleased with his remembrance of me and the acknowledgment of his appreciation of my services. I went to Nicaragua, and never saw the great leader again." GRANT'S PONY Albert D. Richardson gives this amusing little incident con- nected with Grant's military life on the Mississippi : 212 Capital Stories About Famous Americans "It was five o'clock when the httle Union fleet got off. On the headquarters boat, Hillyer was missed, and it was feared he was killed; but he turned up uninjured. The next ques- tion was, 'What had been done with the General's horse?' While it was being discussed, and Bob kept himself safely out of sight, a quartermaster invited Grant to the lower deck, saying : " 'Come, General, and see what a pretty rebel pony I have <:aptured.' "Grant, upon viewing it, seemed greatly surprised, and then said, smilingly : " 'Why, captain, this is my pony ; I am very glad you saved him for me.' "Just then Bob came up with a most sheepish expression. " 'You rascal,' asked Rawlins, sternly, 'why didn't you take better care of the General's pony?' "The darky, who stammered badly, replied as quick as he could get the unwilling words out : " 'I reckon General Grant thinks a horse wuf mor'n a nigger, but a nigger's wuf more to me !' " WHO STOLE THE HONEY During Grant's expedition into Kentucky one morning the good woman of the house where the General and his staff had spent the night, complained that the Twenty-second Illinois Volunteers had stolen the honeycomb from her bee-hives, and Grant indignantly ordered that they be punished. The regi- ment was drawn up in a hollow square, and Hillyer in a speech of proper rhetoric told the men that the General, who had ad- mired their bravery at Belmont, was deeply grieved at their present misconduct. A fine of five dollars was Imposed upon each officer, and one dollar upon each private. When the march was renewed. Grant rode along to the front and was greeted with cheers by regiment after regi- Ulysses S. Grant 213 ment. But the Twenty-second received him with ominous silence, and when he had passed on gave an illustration of the democratic spirit of volunteers. The men shouted : "Who stole the honey ?" Then they answered in deep tones : "General Grant's body-guard." "Who ate it?" "General Grant's stafif." "Who paid for it?" "The Twenty-second Illinois." (Groans.) Months afterward it was discovered that the body-guard were the real culprits, and the order was revoked. A KIND HEART During the march against Vicksburg, the General's party passed a rude cabin, when a woman came out swinging her tattered bonnet. "Go back and see what she wants," said the General. "She and her husband," reported the returning aide, "came here from Cairo, just before the war. He was impressed into the rebel service, but his health breaking down, he has been confined to the house for more than a year, and is very poor. They are Union people, and she only wanted to welcome our army, and get a look at you." After cross-questioning her a little Grant rode on for five minutes, when he suddenly directed : "Captain, leave a guard at that house to protect those poor people." The order was obeyed. Going a little farther in silence, he again said, abruptly, as if a fresh thought had struck him : "Send back a surgeon to that sick man, with instructions to report his condition to me." This, also, was done. The cavalcade went on a few minutes longer, when the General gave a third order : • 214 Capital Stories About Famous Americans "Have the commissary leave a few rations, that the woman and her husband need not suffer." The family was protected and fed. In due time the invahd was cured, and Grant furnished them with free transportation to the North. NO USE FOR SPECULATORS One day a stranger presented himself with a recommenda- tion, signed by several members of Congress, and other North- ern politicians. Glancing at it, the General — who was wont to declare that he had not yet found one honest man following the army as a trader — asked impatiently : "This is for a permit to buy cotton, is it not?" "Yes." "Well, you can take it, and leave these headquarters at once. If I find you here again. Til have you arrested. Men of your class are doing more to corrupt this army than all other kinds of rascality put together." The speculator ingloriously decamped. A CLOSE CALL The following incident happened at Chattanooga : From the river to the foot of Missionary Ridge, two miles and a half, are level farms and swamps. Thomas' picket lines were so near Bragg's, that the opposing soldiers talked famil- iarly, and at one point were only separated by the narrow bed of Chattanooga Creek. One morning, as Grant sat upon his horse on the bank, a party of rebels in blue came down on the other side to draw water. Supposing them to be his own men, the General asked: "What corps do you belong to ?" "Longstreet's." "What are you doing in these coats, then?" "Oh ! all our corps wear blue. " Ulysses S. Grant 215 The fact had escaped his memory; but having the good fortune not to be recognized, he rode away. "A VERY OBSTINATE MAN" When Grant was in the Wilderness a party of ladies asked Mrs, Grant's opinion of her husband's new responsibilities and prospects. "Mr. Grant has succeeded, thus far," she answered, "wher- ever the Government has placed him ; and he will do the best he can." "Do you think he will capture Richmond?" "Yes, before he gets through. Mr. Grant always was a very obstinate man." "THE GRIP OF A BULLDOG" During those anxious days when Frank B. Carpenter, the artist, was painting The Signing of the Proclamation at the White House, he asked the Chief Magistrate : "How does Grant impress you as compared with other leading generals?" "The great thing about him," answered the President, "is cool persistency of purpose. He is not easily excited, and he has the grip of a bulldog. When he once gets his teeth in, nothing can shake him off." "NOT A RETREATING MAN" Grant was sending back his wounded to Fredericksburg, and opening roads on his front. The smoke of his cigar was seen on every part of the field, but the smoker was more taci- turn than usual. In the rebel lines it was believed that our army was falling back. Gordon said to Lee : "I think there is no doubt but that Grant is retreating." "You are mistaken," replied the Confederate chief, earn- 2i6 Capital Stories About Famous Americans cstly, ''quite mistaken. Grant is not retreating : he is not a re- treating man." JACKSON'S DISAPPOINTMENT General Grant tells the following striking story in his Memoirs : "On the 23d of June, 1862, on the road from La Grange to Memphis, was very warm, even for that latitude and season. With my staff and small escort I started at an early hour, and before noon we arrived within twenty miles of Memphis. At this point I saw a very comfortable-looking white-haired gen- tleman seated at the front of his house a little distance from the road. I let my staff and escort ride ahead while I halted and, for an excuse, asked for a glass of water. I was invited at once to dismount and come in. I found my host very con- genial and communicative, and stayed longer than I had in- tended, until the lady of the house announced dinner and asked me to join them. The host, however, was not pressing, so that I declined the invitation and, mounting my horse, rode on. "About a mile west from where I had been stopping a road comes up from the southeast, joining that from La Grange to Memphis. A mile west of this junction I found my stafif and escort halted, and enjoying the shade of forest trees on the lawn of a house located several hundred feet back from the road, their horses hitched to the fence along the line of the road. I, too, stopped and remained there until the cool of the afternoon, and then rode into Memphis. "The gentleman with whom I had stopped twenty miles from Memphis was a Mr. De Loche, a man loyal to the Union. He had not pressed me to tarry longer with him because in the early part of my visit a neighbor, a Dr. Smith, had called and, on being presented to me, backed off the porch as if some- thing had hit him. Mr. De Loche knew that the rebel General Jackson was in that neighborhood with a detachment of Ulysses S. Grant 217 cavalry. His neighbor was as earnest in the Southern cause as was Mr. De Loche in that of the Union. The exact loca- tion of Jackson was entirely unknown to Mr. De Loche; but he was sure that his neighbor would know it and would give information of my presence, and this made my stay unpleas- ant to him after the call of Dr. Smith. "I have stated that a detachment of troops was engaged in guarding workmen who were repairing the railroad east of Memphis. On the day I entered Memphis, Jackson captured a small herd of beef cattle which had been sent east for the troops so engaged. The drovers were not enlisted men and he released them. A day or two after, one of these drovers came to my headquarters and, relating the circumstances of his cap- ture, said Jackson was very much disappointed that he had not captured me ; that he was six or seven miles south of the Memphis and Charleston Railroad when he learned that I was stopping at the house of Mr. De Loche, and had ridden with his command to the junction of the road he was on with that from La Grange and Memphis, where he learned that I had passed three-quarters of an hour before. He thought it would be useless to pursue with jaded horses a well-mounted party with so much of a start. Had he gone three-quarters of a mile farther he would have found me with my party quietly resting under the shade of trees and without even arms in our hands with which to defend ourselves. "General Jackson of course did not communicate his disap- pointment at not capturing me to a prisoner, a young drover; but from the talk among the soldiers the facts related were learned. A day or two later Mr. De Loche called on me in IMemphis to apologize for his apparent incivility in not insist- ing on my staying for dinner. He said that his wife accused him of marked discourtesy, but that, after the call of his neigh- bor, he had felt restless until I got away. I never met General Jackson before the war or during it, but have met him since 2i8 Capital Stories About Famous Americans at his very comfortable summer home at Manitou Springs, Colorado. I reminded him of the above incident, and this drew from him the response that he was thankful now he had not captured me. I certainly was very thankful, too." ADOLPHUS W. GREELY SNATCHED FROM DEATH GENERAL A. W. GREELY, in his book entitled Three Years of Arctic Service, gives this glimpse of the desper- ate extremity from which they were rescued by the relief ex- pedition. He says: ''By the morning of the 22d we were all exhausted, and it was only through the energy and devotion of Frederick or Brainard, I do not remember which, that we obtained, about noon, some water. That and a few square inches of soaked sealskin was all the nutriment which passed our lips for forty- two hours prior to our rescue. Council was very feeble, and the end of all was approaching. I tried with indifferent success to read from my prayer-book and the few scraps w^e had, but the high wind and the lack of food made it too exhausting. "Near midnight of the 22d I heard the sound of the whistle of the Thetis, blown by Captain Schley's orders to recall his parties. I could not distrust my ears, and yet I could hardly believe that ships would venture along that coast in such a gale. "I feebly asked Brainard and Long if they had strength to get out, to which they answered, as always, that they would do their best. I directed one to return with the news if any ves- sel could be seen. Brainard came back in about ten minutes from the brow of the hill, some fifty yards distant, reporting in a most discouraging tone that nothing was to be seen, and said that Long had gone over to set up the distress flag, a short distance away, which had blown down. Brainard returned to his bag, while a fruitless discussion sprang up as to the noise, Horace Greeley 219 wherein Biederbick suggested that the vessel was in Payer Harbor, which I could not believe, as I thought the whistle must be from a ship running along the coast. We had re- signed ourselves to despair, when suddenly strange voices were heard calling me; and, in a frenzy of feeling as vehement as our enfeebled condition would permit, we realized that our country had not failed us, that the long agony was over, and the remnant of the Lady Franklin Bay Expedition saved." HORACE GREELEY HIS APPRENTICESHIP "A /TR. JAMES PARTON, in his Life of Horace Greeley, ■^^^ thus graphically describes the interviews leading to the contract which apprenticed young Greeley to learn the print- ing trade in East Poultney, Vermont : "It was a fine spring morning in the year 1826, about ten o'clock, when Mr. Amos Bliss, the manager, and one of the proprietors, of the Northern Spectator 'might have been seen' in the garden behind his house planting potatoes. He heard the gate open behind him, and, without turning or looking round, became dimly conscious of the presence of a boy. But the boys of country villages go into whosesoever garden their wandering fancy impels them, and supposing this boy to be one of his own neighbors, Mr. Bliss continued his work and quickly forgot that he was not alone. In a few minutes he heard a voice close behind him, a strange voice, high-pitched and whining. "It said, 'Are you the man that carries on the printing office ?' "Mr. Bliss then turned, and resting upon his hoe, surveyed the person who had thus addressed him. He saw standing be- fore him a boy apparently about fifteen years of age, of lights tall, and slender form, dressed in the plain farmer's cloth of 220 Capital Stories About Famous Americans the time, his garments cut with an utter disregard of elegance and fit. His trousers were exceedingly short and voluminous ; he wore no stockings ; his shoes were of the kind denominated 'high-lows,' and much worn down ; his hat was of felt, 'one of the old stamp, with so small a brim, that it looked more like a two-quart measure inverted than anything else;' and it was worn far back on his head ; his hair was white, with a tinge of orange at its extremities, and it lay thinly upon a broad fore- head and over a head 'rocking on shoulders which seemed too slender to support the weight of a member so disproportioned to the general outline.' The general effect of the figure and its costume was so outre, they presented such a combination of the rustic and ludicrous, and the apparition had come upon him so suddenly, that the amiable gardener could scarcely keep from laughing. "He restrained himself and replied, 'Yes, I'm the man.' "Whereupon the stranger asked, 'Don't you want a boy to learn the trade?' " 'Well,' said Mr. Bliss, 'we have been thinking of it. Do you want to learn to print?' " 'I've had some notion of it,' said the boy in true Yankee fashion, as though he had not been dreaming about it, and longing for it for years. "Mr. Bliss was both astonished and puzzled — astonished that such a fellow as the boy looked to be, should have ever thought of learning to print, and puzzled how to convey to him an idea of the absurdity of the notion. So, with an expression in his countenance, such as that of a tender-hearted dry-goods mer- chant might be supposed to assume if a hod-carrier should ap- ply for a place in the lace department, he said, 'Well, my boy — but you know it takes considerable learning to be a printer. Have you been to school much ?' " 'No.' said the boy, 'I haven't had much chance at school. I've read some.' MARY A. LIVERMORE JANE ADDAMS HARRIET BEECHER STOWE FRANCES E. WILLARD JULIA WARD HOWE Horace; Greeleiy 223; " 'What have you read ?' asked Mr. Bliss. " 'Well, I've read some history, and some travels, and a little of most everything.' " 'Where do you live?' " 'At Westhaven.' "'How did you come over?' " 'I came on foot.' " 'What is your name ?' " 'Horace Greeley.' "Now it happened that Mr. Amos Bliss had been for the last three years an Inspector of Common Schools, and in ful- filling the duties of his office — examining and licensing teach- ers — he had acquired an uncommon facility in asking ques- tions, and a fondness for that exercise which men generally en- tertain for any employment in which they suppose themselves to excel. The youth before him was — in the language of med- ical students — a 'fresh subject,' and the Inspector proceeded to try all his skill upon him, advancing from easy questions to hard ones, up to those knotty problems with which he had been wont to 'stump' candidates for the office of teacher. The boy was a match for him. He answered every question promptly, clearly, and modestly. He could not be 'stumped' in the or- dinary school studies, and of the books he had read he could give a correct and complete analysis. In Mr. Bliss' own account of the interview, he says, 'On entering into conversa- tion, and a partial examination of the qualifications of my new applicant, it required but little time to discover that he possessed a mind of no common order, and an acquired intelligence far beyond his years. He had had but little opportunity at the common school, but he said 'he had read some,' and what he had read he well understood and remembered. In addition to the ripe intelligence manifested in one so young, and whose instruction had been so limited, there was a single-mindedness, a truthfulness, and common sense that commanded my regard.'' 224 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans "After half an hour's conversation with the boy, Mr. Bliss intimated that he thought he would do, and told him to go in- to the printing office and talk to the foreman. Horace went to the printing office, and there his appearance produced an effect on the tender minds of the three apprentices who were at work therein, which can be much better imagined than de- scribed, and which is most vividly remembered by the two who survive. To the foreman Horace addressed himself, re- gardless certainly, oblivious probably, of the stare and the re- marks of the boys. The foreman, at first, was inclined to won- der that Mr. Bliss should, for one moment, think it possible that a boy got up in that style could perform the most ordinary duties of a printer's apprentice. Ten minutes' talk with him, however, effected a partial revolution in his mind in the boy's favor, and as he was greatly in want of another apprentice, he was not inclined to be over particular. He tore off a slip of proof-paper, wrote a few words upon it hastily with a pencil, and told the boy to take it to Mr. Bliss. That piece of paper was his fate. The words were: 'Guess we'd better try him.' Away went Horace to the garden, and presented his paper. Mr. Bliss, whose curiosity had been excited to a high pitch by the extraordinary contrast between the appearance of the boy and his real quality, now entered into a long conversation with him, questioning him respecting his history, his past employ- ment, his parents, their circumstances, his own intentions and wishes; and the longer he talked, the more his admiration grew. The result was, that he agreed to accept Horace as an apprentice, provided his father would agree to the usual terms ; and then, with eager steps and a light heart, the happy boy took the dusty road that led to his home in Westhaven. " 'You're not going to hire that tow-head, Mr. Bliss, are you?' asked one of the apprentices at the close of the day. 'I am,' was the reply, 'and if you boys are expecting to get any fun out of him, you'd better get it quick, or you'll be too late. Horace Greeley 225 There's something in that tow-head as you'll find out before you're a week older,' "A day or two after, Horace packed up his wardrobe in a small cotton handkerchief. Small as it was, it would have held"^ more; for its proprietor never had more than two shirts, and one change of outer clothing at the same time, till he was of age. Father and son walked, side by side, to Poultney, the boy carrying his possessions upon a stick over his shoulder. "At Poultney an unexpected difficulty arose which for a time made Horace tremble in his high-low shoes. The terms proposed by Mr. Bliss were that the boy should be bound for five years, and receive his board and twenty dollars a year. Now, Mr. Gleeley had ideas of his own on the subject of his apprenticeship, and he objected to this proposal, and to every particular of it. In the first place, he had determined that ncc child of his should ever be bound at all. In the second place,, he thought five years an unreasonable time ; thirdly, he consid- ered that twenty dollars a year and board was a compensation ridiculously disportionate to the services which Horace would be required to render ; and finally, on each and all of these points, he clung to his opinion with the tenacity of a Greeley. Mr. Bliss appealed to the established custom of the country; five years was the usual period; the compensation offered was the regular thing; the binding was a point essential to the employer's interest, and at every pause in the conversation, the appealing voice of Horace was heard: 'Father, I guess you'd better make a bargain with Mr. Bliss ;' or, 'Father, I guess it won't make any difference;' or 'Don't you think you'd better do it, father?' At one moment the boy was reduced to des- pair. Mr. Bliss had given it as his ultimatum that the proposed binding was absolutely indispensable; he 'could do business no other way.' 'Well, then, Horace,' said the father, 'let us go home.' The father turned to go ; but Horace lingered ; he could not give it up, and so the father turned again; the ne- 226 Capital Stories About Famous Americans gotiation was re-opened, and after a prolonged discussion, a compromise was effected. And so the father went home, and the son went straight to the printing office and took his first les- son in the art of setting type. "The terms of the agreement, as stated, by Mr. Greeley in his Recollections were: He was to remain in the office until he became twenty years of age, be allowed board only for the first six months, and thereafter, in addition, $40 per annum for his clothing. Such was the humble contract by means of which he who became the founder of The New York Tribune entered into the business of printing." THE PHYSICIAN'S STORY The notable respect and influence gained by Horace Greetey even during the years of his apprenticeship, notwithstanding his singular dress and uncouth manners, are happily told by a distinguished New York physician of the time. The physi- cian's story is thus reported by Parton : "Did I ever tell you," he is wont to begin, "how and where I first saw my friend Horace Greeley? Well, thus it happened. It was one of the proudest and happiest days of my life. I was a country boy then, a farmer's son, and we lived a few miles from East Poultney. On the day in question I was sent by my father to sell a load of potatoes at the store in East Poultney, and bring back various commodities in exchange. Now this was the first time, you must know, that I had ever been entrusted with so important an errand. I had been to the village with my father often enough, but now I was to go alone, and I felt as proud and independent as a midshipman the first time he goes ashore in command of a boat. Big with the fate of twenty bushels of potatoes, off I drove — reached the village — sold out my load — drove round to the tavern — put up my horses, and went in to dinner. This going to the tavern on my own account, all by myself, and paying my own bill, was, I Horace Greeley 227 thought the crowning glory of the whole adventure. There were a good many people at dinner, the sheriff of the county and an ex-member of Congress among them, and I felt consid- erably abashed at first ; but I had scarcely begun to eat, when my eyes fell upon an object so singular that I could do little else than stare at it all the while it remained in the room. It was a tall, pale, white-haired, gawky boy, seated at the further end of the table. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and he was eating with a rapidity and awkwardness that I never saw equalled before nor since. It seemed as if he was eating for a wager, and had gone in to win. He neither looked up nor round, nor appeared to pay the least attention to the conversation. ]\Iy first thought was, 'This is a pretty sort of a tavern to let such a fellow as that sit at the same table with all these gentlemen ; he ought to come in with the hostler.' I thought it strange, too, that no one seemed to notice him, and I supposed he owed his continu- ance at the table to that circumstance alone. And so I sat, eating little myself, and occupied in watching the wonderful performance of this wonderful youth. At length the conversa- tion at the table became quite animated, turning upon some measure of an early Congress ; and a question arose how cer- tain members had voted on its final passage. There was a dif- ference of opinion ; and the sheriff, a very finely-dress person- age, I thought, to my boundless astonishment referred the matter to the unaccountable Boy, saying, 'Ain't that right, Greeley?' 'No,' said the Unaccountable, without looking up, 'you're wrong.' 'There,' said the ex-member, 'I told you so/ 'And you're wrong, too,' said the still-devouring Mystery. Then he laid down his knife and fork, and gave the history of the measure, explained the state of parties at the time, stated the vote in dispute, named the leading advocates and opponents of the bill, and, in short, gave a complete exposition of the whole matter. I listened and wondered ; but what sur- prised me m.ost was, that the company received his statement ^28 Capital Stories About Famous Americans as pure gospel, and as settling the question beyond dispute- as a dictionary settles a dispute respecting the spelling of a word. A minute after, the boy left the dining-room, and I never saw him again, till I met him, years after, in the streets of New York, when I claimed acquaintance with him as a brother Vermonter, and told him this story, to his great amuse- ment." POE'S AUTOGRAPH Among the celebrated literary men with whom Mr. ■Greeley became quite intimately acquainted with Edgar A. Poe, author of "The Raven," and other poems of rare beauty and power, as well as of a number of tales exhibiting remark- able acumen and powers of analysis. Poe was no less brilliant as a conversationalist than he was a writer, but he was irregu- lar in habits and careless in business matters. Long after the poet's death, Mr. Greeley received the following letter : "Dear Sir: — In your extensive correspondence, you have undoubtedly secured several autographs of the late distin- ^ished American poet, Edgar A. Poe. If so, will you please favor me with one, and oblige. Yours, respectfully, A. B." To which Mr. Greeley replied: "Dear Sir: — I happen to have in my possession but one autograph of the late distinguished American poet, Edgar A. Poe. It consists of an I. O. U., with my name on the back of it. It cost me just $50, and you can have it for half price. "Yours, Horace Greeley.' EXPERIENCES IN A PARIS JAIL In 1855, Horace Greeley had a very remarkable experience in Paris. He had been one of the directors of a World's Ex- hibition in New York, held in 1852 and 1853. Some foreign Horace Greeley 229 exhibitors had him arrested, hoping in that way to get money which they claimed from the Exhibition. He give himself an interesting account of his experience : "I went to Europe the next Spring (1855) without a sus- picion that I should there be held accountable for our inability to wrest victory from defeat ; yet, about 4 p. m. of the second day of June, after I had returned from a day's observation in the French 'Palace of Industry,' I was waited on at my little cottage by four French strangers, who soon gave me to under- stand that they were officers of the law, bearing a writ issued by Judge de Belleyme, of the Court of Premier Instance, at the suit of one M. Lechesne, a Parisian sculptor, who swore that he had contributed to our New York Exhibition a statue (in plaster), which had there been broken, or mutilated; for which he claimed of me, as a director, "represontant et solidaire," of the Exhibition, "douze mille francs," or $2,500 in gold. When we had, by the help of my courier, arrived at some approach to a mutual understanding, one element of which was my re- fusal to pay to M. Lechesne $2,500, or any sum whatever, they said that I must enter their carriage and accompany them forthwith to the Judge, some three miles away; which, at- tended by my courier, I did. We had to call for Lechesne and his lawyer by the way, which consumed nearly an hour, — they being in no hurry ; and, when we had told the Judge our respec- tive stories, I proposed to go to the American Legation and per- suade Don Piatt, Esq., Secretary of Legation, to guarantee my appearance for trial when wanted. The Judge pronounced this sufficient ; so we set forth on another long ride to the Lega- tion ; where not only Judge Piatt, but another friend, Maunsel B. Field, Esq., offered himself as security for my appearance at court ; but now Lechesne and his lawyer refused, on the ground of Mr. Piatt's exemption from arrest on civil process, to take him as security, or (in fact) to take anything but the cash tliey were intent on. High words passed, and a scuffle was im- 230 Capital Storie:s About Famous Americans Tiiinent, when I insisted on being driven at once to prison, — my guardians having affected a fear that I would escape them. Crossing the Avenue Champs Elysee, densely thronged at that hour (6 p. M.), our carriage came into violent colHsion with another, and was disabled ; when a very superfluous display of vigilance and pistols was made by my keepers, who could not "be persuaded that I was intent on sticking to them like a brother. At last, a little before 7 p. m., we reached our desti- nation, and I was admitted, through several gigantic iron doors, with gloomy crypts between them, to the office of the prison, where I was told that I must stay till 9 :^o p. m., because the Judge had allowed me so long to procure bail. Here my guardians left me in safe-keeping, while I ordered a frugal dinner, instead of the sumptuous public one at the Trois Freres, given by Mr. M. B. Field, to which I had been invited, and had fully expected to attend ; and I sent my courier home to quiet the apprehension of my family, who as yet knew only that some strangers had called for me, and that I had gone off with them. "Very soon. Judge Mason (John Y.), our Ambassador, called, and was admitted to see me, though it was now too late by the regulations. I explained the matter to him, assured him that I wanted nothing but a good lawyer, and insisted on v-iewing the whole matter in a more cheerful light than it wore in his eyes. 'But your wife will surely be distressed by it,' he urged ; 'she being an utter stranger here, with two young children.' 'No,' I replied; 'a trifle might annoy her; but this matter looks serious, and it will only calm and strengthen her. I have sent our courier to assure her that it is all right, and to request her to keep away from this, and go on with her visiting and sight-seeing as though nothing had happened.' 'I have heard you called a philosopher, and I now see that you deserve the distinction,' was the Judge's rejoinder, as, at my request, he left me. Horace: Greeley 231 "Half an hour had scarcely passed, giving me barely time to eat my dinner, when my wife was ushered in, accompanied by Mrs. Piatt and our little son, whose eyes were distended with grave wonder at the iron barriers through which he had reached me. 'Good woman,' I observed to Mrs. Greeley, 'I have been bragging to Judge Mason how quietly you would take this mischance; but here you are in jail at nightfall, when visitors are not allowed, as though you were addicted to hys- terics.' 'But consider,' she urged in mitigation, 'that I first heard of your position from Francis (our courier), who comes flying home to assure me that there is nothing serious, to urge me not to be frightened, when he is trembling all over with anxiety and terror. Hardly had he left the room, when Mrs. Piatt comes, in equal haste, to beg me to fear nothing, — that all is but a trifle, — and she is quite as agitated and panic- sticken as Francis. Neither of them seems to understand the matter; so I thought I must come to you for an explanation.' This I gave ; when they departed ; and I was at last allowed to go up to my lodging, which I find thus described in my letter thence to the Tribune : "By ten o'clock each of us lodgers had retired to our sev- eral apartments (each eight feet by five), and an obliging functionary came around and locked out all rascally intruders. I don't think I ever before slept in a place so perfectly secure. At 6 this morning, this extra protection was withdrawn, and each of us was thenceforth required to keep watch over his own valuables. We uniformly keep good hours here in Clichy, which is a virtue that not manv large hotels in Paris can boast of. "The bedroom appointments are not of a high order, as is reasonable, since we are only charged for them four sous (cents) per night, — washing extra. The sheets are rather of a hickory sort, but mine were given to me clean ; the bed is in- different, but I have slept on worse ; the window lacks a curtain 232 Capital Stories About Famous Americans or blind, but in its stead there are four strong upright iron bars, which are a perfect safeguard against getting up in the night, and falHng or pitching out, so as to break your neck, as any one who fell thence would certainly do. ( I am in the fifth or high- est story.) Perhaps one of my predecessors was a somnam- bulist. I have two chairs, two little tables (probably one of them extra, through some mistake), and a cupboard which may once have been clean. The pint washbowl, half-pint pitcher, etc., I have ordered, and am to pay extra for. I am a little ashamed to own that my repose has been indifferent; but then I never do sleep well in a strange place. "As it was Saturday evening when I was taken to jail, I could not expect a release before Monday ; in fact, the lawyers who were applied to in my behalf had all gone out of town, and could not be found till that day. I rose on Sunday morning in a less placid frame of mind than I had cherished over night, and devoted a good part of the day to concocting an account of the matter meant to be satirical, and to 'chaff' mankind in general by contrasting the ways of Clichy with those of the outside world, to the dispraise of the latter. Here is a speci- men: "I say nothing of 'Liberty,' save to caution outsiders in France to be equally modest; but 'Equality' and 'Fraternity' I have found here more thoroughly than elsewhere in Europe. Still, we have not realized the social millennium, even in Clichy. Some of us were wont to gain our living by the hard- est and most meagrely rewarded labor ; others to live idly and sumptuously on the earnings of others. Of course, these vices of an irrational and decaying social state are not instantly eradicated by our abrupt transfer to this mansion. Some of us can cook ; while others only know how to eat, and so require assistance in the preparation of our food, as none is cooked or even provided for us, and our intercourse with the outer world is subject to limitations. Those of us who lived gen- Horace Greeley 233 erously aforetime, and are in for gentlemanly sums, are very apt to have money; wliile the luckless chaps who were sent here for owing- a beggarly hundred francs or so, and have no fixed income beyond the single franc per day which each cred- itor must pay, or his debtor is turned loose, are very glad to earn money by doing us acts of kindness. One of these at- tached himself to me immediately on my induction into my apartment, and proceeded to make my bed, bring me a pitcher of water and wash-bowl, matches, lights, etc., for which I expect to pay him, — these articles being reckoned superfluities in Clichy. But no such aristocratic distinction as master — no such degrading appellation as servant — is tolerated in this community: this philanthropic fellow-boarder is known to all here as my 'auxiliary.' Where has the stupid world outside known how to drape the hard realities of life with fig-leaf so graceful as this? "So of all titular distinctions. We pretend that we have abjured titles of honor in America; and the consequence is that every one has a title, — either 'Honorable,' or 'General,' or 'Colonel,' or 'Reverend,' or at the very least, 'Esquire.' But here in Clichy all such empty and absurd prefixes or suffixes are absolutely unknown ; even names. Christian or family, are discarded as useless, antiquated lumber. Every lodger is known by the number of his apartment only, which no one thinks of designating a cell. Mine is 139; so, whenever a friend calls, he gives two cents to a 'commissionaire,' who comes in from the outer regions to the great hall sacred to our common use, and begins calling out cent-trente-neuf (phonet- ically son-tra-mif) at the top of his voice, and goes on, yelling as he climbs, in the hope of finding or calling me short of ascending to my fifth-story sanctuary. To nine-tenths of my comrades in adversity I am known only as son-tran-nuf. My auxilliary is No. 54 : so I, when I need his aid, go singing sankon-cat, after the same fashion. Equality being thus rigidly 234 Capital Stories About Famous Americans preserved, maiigre some diversities of fortune, the jealousies, rivalries, and heartburnings, which keep the mass of mankind in a ferment, are here absolutely unknown. I never before talked with so many people intimate with each other without hearing something said or insinuated to one another's preju- dice ; here, there is nothing of the sort. Some folks outside are fitted with reputations which they would hardly consider flat- tering, — some laws and usages got the blessing they so richly deserve, — but among ourselves is naught but harmony and good-will. How would the Hotel de Ville, or even the Tuil- eries like to compare notes with us on this head ? "A Yankee prisoner, who had seen me in New York, recog- nized me as I came down stairs on Sunday morning, and blaz- oned his inference that I was in jail by some mistake, — so I was soon surrounded by sympathizing fellow jail-birds, sev- eral of whom were no more justly liable to imprisonment than I was. In a little while, M. Vattemare, well known in his day as the projector of systematic international exchanges of books and documents, having heard of my luck at Mr. Field's dinner the evening previous, made his way in, with proffers of service, which I turned to account by obtaining, through him, from some great library, copies of the Revised Statutes and Sessions Laws of New York, which clearly demonstrated my legal irre- sponsibility to M. Lechesne for his damaged statue. Soon, other friends began to pour in, with offers of money and ser- vice ; but I could not afford to be bailed out nor bought out, as fifty others would thereby be tempted to repeat M. Lechesne's experiment upon me, — so I was compelled to send them away, with my grateful acknowledginents. "Among my visitors was M. Hector Bossange, the well- known publisher, who had been accustomed to call at my rooms each Sunday, as he did on this one, and was soon asked by my wife, 'Have you seen Mr. Greeley?' 'Seen him!' he perplexedly responded, 'I do not understand you; have I not Horace Greei^Ey 235 called to see him?' 'Then you have not heard that he is in prison?' 'In prison?' he wildly inquired; 'what can that mean?' 'I do not well understand it myself,' she replied; 'but it has some connection with our New York Crystal Pal- ace.' 'O, it is money, — is it?' joyfully rejoined M. Bossange; 'then we will soon have him out, — I feared it was politics. He knew that I was a furious anti-Imperialist, and feared that I had really involved myself in some plot that exposed me to arrest as an apostle of sedition, — an enemy of 'order.' "Our remaining visitors having been bared out when the clock struck 4 p. m.^ we two Americans, with two Englishmen^ a Frenchman, and an Italian, sent out our order, and had our dinner in the cell of one of us, who, being an old settler, had an apartment somewhat more roomy and less exalted than mine. Each brought to the common 'spread' whatever he had of tableware or pocket-cutlery ; and the aggregate, though there were still deficiencies, answered the purpose. The dinner cost fifty cents per head, of which a part went as toll to some officer or turnkey, and there was still a good margin of profit to the restaurateur. Still, there was wine for those who would drink it ; but stronger liquors are not allowed in Clichy, in spite of the assurance, so often heard, that prohibitory legislation is un- known in France. A flask of cut-throat-looking brandy had, however, been smuggled in for one of our party ; and this was handed around and sipped as though it were nectar. Men love to circumvent the laws for the gratification of their appetites; and yet I judge that not one gill of spirits is drank in Clichy, where quarts were poured down while everyone was free to order it and drink so long as he could pay. "I presume I had more calls than any other prisoner, though Sunday is specially devoted to visits ; and, though grateful for the kindness and zeal of my release evinced by several of my friends, I was thoroughly weary when the lingerers were in- vited to take their departure and the doors clanged heavily 2^6 Capital Stories About Famous Americans behind them. I could better appreciate the politeness with which M. Ouvrard, Napoleon's great army contractor, after he had fallen into embarrassments and been lodged in Clichy by his inexorable creditors, was accustomed, when visitors called, to send to the grating his faithful valet, who, with the politest bow and shrug whereof he was master,^would say, *I am sorry, sir, — very sorry; but my master, M. Ouvrard, is out.' This was not even the 'white lie' often instigated by good society; since the visitor could not fail to understand that the great bankrupt could be out in none other than that conventional, metaphorical sense which implies merely preoccupation, or un- willingness to be button-holed and bored. "No prisoner in Clichy is objiged to see a visitor unless of his own choice; and, as one is frequently called down to the grating to have a fresh writ served on him, thereby magnify- ing the obstacles to his liberation, the rule that a visitor must make a minute of his errand on his card, and send it up, before an interview is accorded, is one founded in reason, and very generally and properly adhered to. Yet a fellow-prisoner, who received notice that he was called for at the gate, went reck- lessly down on the day after my incarceration, only to greet a tipstaff, and be served with a fresh writ. 'Sir,' said the beguiled and indignant boarder at this city hermitage, 'if you ever serve me such a trick again, you will go out of here half killed.' Some official underling was violently suspected of lending himself to this stratagem ; and great was the indigna- tion excited thereby throughout our community ; -but the victim had only himself to blame, for not standing on his reserved rights, and respecting the usages and immunities of our sanc- tuary. "I was puzzled, but not offended, at a question put to me the moment I had fairly entered the prison : 'Have you ever been confined here before?' I respectfully, but positively, replied in the negative,— that this was my first experience of the kind. Horace Greeley 237 I soon learned, however, that the question was a prescribed and necessary one, — that, if I had ever before been imprisoned on this allegation of debt, or on any other, and this had been lodged against me, I was not liable to a fresh detention thereon, but must at once be discharged. The rule is a good one ; and, though I was unable then to profit by it, it may serve me an- other time. "My general conclusion, from all I observed and heard in Clichy, imports that imprisonment for debt was never a bar to improvidence, nor a curb to prodigality; that, in so far as it ever aided or hastened the collection of honest debts, it wrenched five dollars from sympathizing relatives and friends for every one exacted from the debtors themselves ; and that it was, and could not fail to be, fruitful only in oppression and extortion, — much oftener enforcing the payment of unjust claims than of just ones. Let whoever will sneer at human progress and uneasy, meddling philanthropy, I am grateful that I have lived in the age which gave the deathblow to Slavery and to Imprisonment for Debt. "To get into prison is a feat easy of achievement by almost any one; it is quite otherwise with getting out. You cannot fully realize how rigid stone walls and iron doors are till they stand between you and sunshine, impeding locomotion, and forbidding any but the most limited change of place. The rest- less anxiety of prisoners for release, no matter how light their cares, how ample their apartments, how generous their fare, can never be appreciated by one who has not had a massive key turned upon him, and found himself on the wrong side of an impregnable wall. Doubtless, we hear much nonsense whereof 'Liberty' is the burden ; but, if you are sceptical as to the essential worth of Freedom, just allow yourself to be locked up for a while, with no clear prospect of liberation at any specified or definite time. Though I was but forty-eight hours in Clichy, time dragged heavily on my hands, after the friends 238 Capital Stories About Famous Americans who, in generous profusion, visited me on Sunday had been barred and locked out, and I was left for a second night to my fellow jail-birds and my gloomy reflections. 'I can't get out' was the melancholy plaint of Sterne's starling; and I had occasion to believe that so many detainers or claims simi- lar to Lechesne's would, on Monday, be lodged against me as to render doubtful my release for weeks, if not for months. "It was late on Monday morning before my active friends outside could procure me the help I needed ; but, when they did, I had, through M. Vattemare's valued aid, the books I required and had my references and citations all ready for service. With these in hand my lawyers went before Judge de Bellayme to procure my release; but M. Vattemare had been there already, as well as M. de Langle, the Judge of a still higher court, to testify that the Americans were generally in- dignant at my incarceration, and were threatening to leave Paris in a body if I were not promptly liberated. Even M. James Rothschild, I was told, had made an indignant speech about it at a dinner on Saturday evening ; saying to his friends : 'We are most of us directors in the Exposition now in progress here, and of course, liable to be arrested and imprisoned in any foreign country we may visit, on a complaint that some one has had articles damaged or lost here, if Mr. Greeley may be so held in this action.' "These representations impelled M. de Bellayme to say, in perfect truth, that he had not ordered my imprisonment, — on the contrary, he had directed the plaintiff and his lawyer to take Air. Don Piatt's guarantee that I should be on hand, when wanted, to respond to this action. So when, at the instance of my lawyers, M. Lechesne and his attorneys were called to con- front them before the Judge on Monday, and were asked by him how they came to take me to Clichy under the circum- stances, they could only stammer out that they had reflected that Mr. Piatt was not subject to imprisonment in like case, — HoRAci; Greeley 239 therefore his guarantee was no security. This, of course, did not satisfy the Judge, who ordered my release on the instant ; so by 4 p. M. all formalities were concluded, and my lawyers appeared with the documents required to turn me into the street. Meantime, I had had so many visitors, who sent up good-looking cards, and wore honest faces, that I had mani- festly risen in the estimation of my jailers, who had begun to treat me with ample consideration. "The neighboring servants, who were intimate with ours, had witnessed my departure with the officers, and knew, of course, that this was an arrest, but pretended to our servants not to understand it. One after another of them would call on our employes to ask, 'Why, where is Mr. Greeley?' 'He has gone over to London on a little business,' was the prompt re- ply, 'and will be back in a day or two.' This was accepted with many a sly wink and gentle shrug ; the inquisitors having obviously united in the conclusion that I was a swindler, who had robbed some bank or vault, and fled from my own country to enjoy the fruits of my depredation. When, however, I came quietly home in a cab about the time indicated by our ser- vants, they greatly exulted over the hoped-for, rather than ex- pected, denouement, while their good-natured friends were cor- respondingly disconcerted by the failure of their calculations. On our part, we resumed at once our round of visiting and sight-seeing, as though nothing had happened ; but my little son's flying hair and radiant face, as he rushed to greet me, will not soon be forgotten. He had been told that it was all right, when he found me in prison and had tried hard to believe it ; my return, unattended and unguarded, he knew to be right. GREELEY'S IDEA OF HOW HE CAME TO BE DEFEATED FOR THE PRESIDENCY "Soon after the election, Caleb Lyon, of Lyonsdale, poet and politician, met Mr, Greeley on Broadway, and, after the usual 240 Capital Stories About Famous x\mericans salutation, said, 'Well, Mr. Greeley, how do you yourself ac- count for the result of the election ?' " 'Let us get a lunch,' said Mr. Greeley, 'and I will tell you.' They went together to a restaurant near by, and, having ordered lunch, Mr. Greeley said: 'Well, Governor, I will tell }OU how I came to be defeated. The facts are plain. I was an abolitionist for years, when it was as much as one's life was worth even here in New York, to be an abolitionist; and the negroes have all voted against me. Whatever of talents and energy I have possessed I have freely contributed all my life long to Protection; to the cause of our manufactures. And the manufacturers have expended millions to defeat me. I even made myself ridiculous in the opinion of many whose good wishes I desired by showing fair play and give a fair field in The Tribune to 'Woman's Rights;' and the women have all gone against me !' " MARK HANNA MAGNETIC ELOQUENCE NE of Hanna's objects in stumping West Virginia in 1902 o was to help his friend. Senator Scott, who was then mak- ing his desperate campaign for re-election. At noon one day, while Hanna was at dinner, Scott rushed into the dining-room in great excitemen|t and ex- claimed : "It's all right, it's all right ! Mark has caught on in West Virginny. Four prisoners escaped from the penitentiary at Moundsville last night by sawing the bars for no other rea- son than to hear him talk at Parkersburg last night." Investigation showed that Scott had spoken the truth. Four desperadoes in the penitentiary who had heard of the Hanna mass meeting made up their minds to attend the meeting, and, at the risk of their lives, sawed themselves to freedom. They JoEiv Chandler Harris 241 were pursued by Warden Haddox and seven guards, and after the meeting the prisoners surrendered themselves. "We are satisfied now," said the leader. ''Take us back to jail; all we wanted was to hear Hanna talk and see him." "This beats anything I ever heard," said Hanna, after the story was told him. "Say, Scotty," he added, with a twinkle in his eyes, "any prisoners ever break out of jail to hear you talk? I have no doubt that most men would plead guilty to some heinous crime in order to get themselves locked up in jail to escape from your oratorical stunts." And Senator Scott frowned. JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS GOOD FOR THE BLUES TN 1876 yellow fever broke out in Savannah, and the author -^ and his family went to Atlanta, together with hundreds of other fugitives. He registered at the hotel, "J. C. Harris, wife, two children, and one bilious nurse ;" and when he came to pay his bill the proprietor told him he didn't owe a penny. "Why, sir," he said, "we're indebted to you at least three dollars." The young newspaper man had found a hotel filled with terri- fied fugitives in the lowest spirits, and his inexhaustible good humor and droll stories soon set every one in good temper again. AFRAID OF THE PUBLIC Among his intimate friends Uncle Remus is a never-failing fountain of good-humored fun and kindliness but among strangers he is as shy and unapproachable as a boy. From his youth he has had a slight impediment of speech, which begins to bother him as soon as he is among strangers. Let some hero-worshiper come to seek him out at his Atlanta home and he may depart without having had above half a dozen words 24^ CAPITA!, StoriDS About Famous Americans with the author. Indeed, Mr. Harris' sense of humor is so keen, and the idea of his own fame so much of a joke, that no one has yet been able to honize him. Many times have his friends in Atlanta sought to tempt him out to receptions and dinners, but all to no avail. It is rare for him to leave his home under any circumstances whatever, except to go to the Constitution office or the home of his married sons. Not long ago the daughter of one of his best friends and neighbors was to be married, and Mrs. Harris succeeded in persuading Uncle Remus to attend the dinner. She went early and he promised to follow. He got all ready, walked down the street to his friend's house, and even entered the gate, but there the lights and the music caused his heart to fail him, and he turned and went home — and thought of a good story, which just illus- trated his condition, and Mrs. Harris found him chuckling over it when she came to find him. Mrs. B. W. Hunt told me an amusing story of one of his experiences during a visit to his birthplace at Eatonton some years ago. It was the occasion of a local celebration, and the author occupied a seat on the platform with the famous Geor- gia orator, Henry W. Grady, who had just made a ringing speech. Some of those in the audience who knew Uncle Re- mus began calling "Harris, Harris." Uncle Remus never made a speech in his life, and the dilemma was terrible to him. Sud- denly, as the calls of "Harris, Harris," increased, he jumped up, pulled his old gray hat down over his eyes, and shouted, "I'm coming, I'm coming," and down he went from the plat- form into the crowd. THE MAN HE HAD BEEN WAITING FOR A big-hearted sympathy and friendliness is one of the keynotes of Uncle Remus' character. A shabby-looking man once called at his door. It was a raw, chilly afternoon, and the man looked blue with the cold. He asked for old clothing. Bret Harts 243 Mr. Harris said, heartily, "You're just the man I've been wait- ing for these two months. I've got a coat that will just fit you." N BRET HARTE HIS FIRST BOOK OT long before his death, Bret Harte told in Success this story of his first book : "When I say that my first book was not my own, and con- tained beyond the title page not one word of my own composi- tion, I trust that I shall not be accused of trifling with para- dox, or tardily unbosoming myself plagiary. But the fact re- mains that in priority of publication the first book for which I became responsible, and which probably provoked more criti- cism than anything I have written since, was a small compila- tion of Californian poems indited by other hands. "A well-known bookseller of San Francisco one day handed me a collection of certain poems, which had already appeared in Pacific Coast magazines and newspapers, with the request that I should, if possible, secure further additions to them, and then make a selection of those I considered the most nota- ble and characteristic for a single volume to be issued by him "I have reason to believe that the unfortunate man was actuated by a laudable desire to publish a pretty Californian book, — his first essay in publication, — and, at the same time,, to foster Eastern immigration by an exhibit of Californian literary product ; but looking back upon his venture, I am in- clined to think that the little volume never contained anything more poetically pathetic or touchingly imaginative than that conception. "I winnowed the poems and he exploited a preliminary an- nouncement to an eager and waiting press, and we moved un- wittingly to our doom. 244 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans "The book appeared, — a pretty little volume, typographi- cally, and externally a credit to pioneer bookmaking. Copies were liberally supplied to the press, and authors and publishers self-complacently awaited the result. To the latter, this should have been satisfactory; the book sold readily from his well- known counters, unaccompanied, however, by any critical com- ment. There were yet no notices from the press ; the dailies were silent ; there was something ominous in this calm. "Out of it the bolt fell. A well-known mining weekly, which I will poetically veil under the title of the Red Dog Jay Haivk, was the first to swoop down upon the tuneful and un- suspecting quarry as follows : 'The hog wash and 'purp' stuff ladeled out from the slop bucket of Messrs. and Company, of 'Frisco, by some lop-eared. Eastern apprentice, and called a Compilation of California Verses, might be passed over as far as criticism goes. A club in the hands of any able-bodied citizen of Red Dog and a steamboat ticket to the bay, cheer- fully contributed from this office, would be all-sufficient. But when an imported greenhorn dares to call his flapdoodle mix- ture 'Californian,' it is an insult to the State that has produced the gifted Yellow Hammer, whose lofty flights have from time to time dazzled our readers in the columns of the Jay Hawk. That this complacent editorial jackass, browsing among the dock and the thistles which he has served up in this volume should make allusion to California's greatest bard, is rather a confession of idiocy than a slur upon the genius of our esteemed contributor.' "The Dutch Flat Clarion followed with no uncertain sound, 'We doubt,' said that journal, 'if a more feeble collection of drivel could have been made, even if taken exclusively from the editor's own verse, which we note he has, by an equal editorial incompetency, left out of the volume. When we add that, by a felicity of idiotic selection, this person has chosen only one, and the least characteristic of the really clever poems of Adoniram John Hay 245 Skaggs, which have so often graced the columns, we have said enough.' "The Mormon Hill Quart:; Crusher relieved this simple directness with more fancy : 'We don't know why Messrs. & Co. send us, under the title of Selections of Calif ornian Poetry, a quantity of slumgullion which really belongs to the sluices of a placer mining camp or the ditches of the rural dis- tricts. We have sometimes been compelled to run a lot of tail- ings through our stamps, but never of the grade oflfered, which, we should say, would average about thirty-three and a third cents a ton. We have, however, come across a single specimen of pure gold, evidently overlooked by the serene ass who has compiled this volume. We copy it with pleasure, as it has already shown in the poet's corner of the Crusher.' "The Green Springs Arcadian was no less fanciful in im- agery : 'Messrs. & Co. send us a gaudy green and yellow parrot-colored volume which is supposed to contain the first callow peepings and cheepings of Calif ornian songsters. From the flavor of the specimens before us, we would say that the nest had been disturbed prematurely. There seems to be a good deal of the parrot inside as well as outside the covers, and we congratulate our own sweet singer, 'Blue Bird,' who has so often made these columns melodious, that she has escaped the ignomy of being exhibited m Messrs. & Co.'s aviary.' "The book sold tremendously on account of this abuse, but the public was disappointed." JOHN HAY DRIED GRASS AVERY mild and gentle man stood at the telephone in Washington recently. He had a message which must be delivered personally to the Secretary of State, and, lacking the means to reach the Department in time, he fled to the tele- 246 Capital Stories About Famous Americans phone and called up the Secretary's room. He was told, as usual, to hold the wire, and presently a voice said : "Hello 1" His affair being a personal one, the mild man felt the nec- essity of assuring himself as to the person at the other end, and asked: ''Who is speaking?" The reply was so brief and faint that it left him still in doubt, and he said : "I don't catch it." Once more the short sound came without helping mat- ters, and he said again : "Speak louder. I don't catch it." There was an ominous pause. Then the receiver warped and shook to stentorian tones remarking: "Hay ! H-a-y ! Dried grass ! Hay ! Secretary H-a-y ! Now do you catch it ?" He caught it. LINCOLN AND HAY Brooks Adams recently told a story of how John Hay be- •came Lincoln's private secretary, and of their association to- gether : "Milton Hay, John's uncle, though younger than Abra- ham Lincoln, had been a student with him, and in 1858 the offices of Lincoln and Logan and Hay adjoined each other. Logan and Hay were in full practice, but Lincoln was too absorbed in politics to care for clients, and so it happened that Lincoln had many idle hours on his hands, which he spent in the rooms of Logan and Hay. As the heads of the firm were often occupied, Lincoln talked with the student, and soon learned to know him and to love him. On his side John venerated the future President. When the Republicans nomi- nated Lincoln in i860, John threw himself into the campaign with all the ardor of his nature, both as a writer and speaker, and in 1861 Lincoln took John with him to Washington as his' assistant secretary. "Perhaps in all American public life nothing is more charming than the story of the relations which existed be- John Hay 247 tween these two men, the one in the bloom of youth, the other hastening toward his tragic end. Lincoln treated Hay with the affection of a father, only with more than a father's free- dom. If he waked at night he roused Hay, and they read to- gether; in summer they rode in the afternoons, and dined in the evenings at the Soldiers' Home. In public matters the older man reposed in the younger unlimited confidence. "During the war the President frequently did not care to trust to letters. Then he would give Hay a verbal message and send him to Generals in command ; and, in all his service. Hay never forgot, and never committed an indiscretion. More noteworthy still, he never failed to obtain credence from those to whom he was sent, although he carried no credentials. Finally, on Stanton's suggestion, Lincoln appointed Hay an assistant adjutant-general, and Hay served in the field. Sometimes the President used his secretary on civil mis- sions of a very delicate character, and once young Hay be- came involved in a misunderstanding which afterwards might have cost him dear. "Horace Greeley, though a gifted editor, was a poor poli- tician, yet he craved political distinction, and never could be easy in private life. In the summer of 1864 his mind seems to have been shaken by the horror of the war, for he demanded peace upon almost any terms. Finally he decided that he could negotiate with certain Southern emissaries in Canada, and wor- ried Lincoln into appointing him as a species of envoy. Mr. Lincoln comprehended Greeley's error, but he concluded that to refuse would be more dangerous than to yield, so he con- tented himself with sending young Hay with Greeley to Niagara, where the interviews were to take place. At Niagara the futility of the undertaking became apparent, and die editor returned to New York, but he never forget his chagrin, and long years elapsed before he forgave Hay for having involun- tarily participated in his discomfiture. 248 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans "Greeley's mission to Niagara occurred in July, 1864, and the following- spring Lincoln was assassinated ; but even be- fore the murder young Hay had entered upon a new employ- ment. As secretary, Hay had seen much of Mr. Seward, had won the old man's regard, and had become as intimate with him as was compatible with the difference in their ages. Like almost every one else with whom Mr. Hay has worked, Mr. Seward not only found him useful as an instrument, but learned to respect his character. Afterwards, when Mr. Hay was Secretary of Legation in Paris, and Mr. Bigelow was minister, Mr. Seward wrote in reply to some commendation of his late appointment, 'I am glad you are pleased wath Mr. Hay. He is a noble as well as a gifted young man, perfectly true and manly.' "Feeling thus, Mr. Seward was very glad to do young Hay a kindness, and accordingly, one day between the end of the war and the death of Lincoln, he sent for Hay, and asked him if he would not like to see something of the world, adding thai a place in the Legation at Paris was vacant. The offer de- lighted Hay, and the Secretary of State at once sent the nom- ination to the President, to Mr. Lincoln's astonishment. HOW HE CAME TO BE A JOURNALIST In i » 2/0 Capitai, Storie;s About Famous Ame;ricans HOW MARK TWAIN PLAGIAR17F.D HOLMES At a breakfast given to Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes on his seventieth birthday, Mark Twain delivered the following char- acteristic address, interesting from several standpoints : " 'I would have travelled,' he began, "a much greater dis- tance than I have come to witness the paying of honors to Doctor Holmes, for my feeling toward him has always been one of peculiar warmth. When one receives a letter from a great man for the first time in his life, it is a large event to him, as all of you know by your own experience. Well, the first great man who ever wrote me a letter was our guest — Oliver Wendell Holmes. He was also the first great literary man I ever stole anything from, and that is how I came to write to him and he to me. When my first book was new, a friend of mine said, 'The dedication is very neat.' 'Yes,' I said, 'I thought it was.' My friend said, 'I always admired it even before I saw it in The Innocents Abroad.' I naturally said, 'What do you mean? Where did you ever see it before?' 'Well, I saw it some years ago, as Doctor Holmes' dedication to his Songs in Many Keys/ Of course my first impulse was to prepare this man's remains for burial, but upon reflection I said I would reprieve him for a moment or two and give him a chance to prove his assertion if he could. We stepped into a book store and he did prove it. I had really stolen that dedica- tion almost word for v^ord. I could not imagine how this curi- ous thing happened, for I knew one thing for a dead certainty — that a certain ainount of pride always goes along with a tea- spoonful of brains, and that this pride protects a man from deliberately stealing other people's ideas. That is what a tea- spoonful of brains will do for a man, and admirers had often told me I had nearly a basketful, though they were rather reserved as to the size of the basket. However, I thought the thing out, and solved the mystery. Two years before I had been laid up a couple of weeks in the Sandwich Islands, and LVMAN J. GAGE RUSSELL A. ALGER CHARLES WARREN FAIRBANKS JOHN HAY JOHN D. LONG Oliver Wendeli. Holmes 273 had read and re-read Dr. Holmes' poems till my mental reser- voir was filled with them to the brim. The dedication lay on top and handy, so, by the bye, I unconsciously stole it. Per- haps I unconsciously stole the rest of the volume too, for many people have told me that my book was pretty poetical in one way or another. Well, of course I wrote Dr. Holmes and told him I hadn't meant to steal, and he wrote back and said in the kindest way that it was all right and no harm done ; and added that he believed we all unconsciously worked over ideas gathered in reading and hearing, imagining they were original with ourselves. He stated a truth and did it in such a pleasant way, and salved over my sore spot so gently and so healingly that I was rather glad I had committed the crime, for the sake of the letter. I afterward called on him and told him to make perfectly free with any ideas of mine that struck him as being good protoplasm for poetry. He could see by that that there wasn't anything mean about me; so we got along right from the start." IT WAS WORTH WHILE Once a young writer sent home from California a sample of his poetry, and asked Holmes if it was worth while for him to keep on writing. It was evident that the doctor was im- pressed by something decidedly original in the style of the writer, for he wrote back that he should keep on by all means. Some time afterward a gentleman called at the home of Professor Holmes in Boston and asked him if he remembered the incident. "I do, indeed," replied Holmes. "Well," said his visitor, who was none other than Bret Harte, "I am the man." AT THE SUNSET In speaking of his eighty-fifth birthday Dr. Holmes al- luded to the great men who were born that same year, 1809: 274 Capital Stories About Famous Americans " 'Yes,' he said, 'I was particularly fortunate in being born the same year with four of the most distinguished men of the age, and I really feel flattered that it so happened. Now, in England, there were Tennyson, Darwin, and Gladstone — Gladstone being, I think, four months younger than myself. That is a most remarkable trio, isn't it? Just contemplate the greatness of those three men, and then remember that in the same year Abraham Lincoln was born in this country. Most remarkable!' And when the visitor added, 'You have forgotten to mention the fifth, doctor; there was also Oliver Wendell Holmes,' Doctor Holmes quickly retorted in his own inimitable way: " 'Oh ! that does not count ; I 'sneaked in,' as it were !' " Doctor Holmes remained at his country home in Beverly until late in September, during this last year of his life, and his health seemed steadily to improve with the cool and bracing autumn weather. On his return to the city, however, he had a severe attack of the asthmatic trouble from which he had suffered all his life. A severe cold, and the "weight of years" aggravated what seemed at first but a slight indisposition ; and the poet, with his accurate medical knowledge, realized that the end was not far distant. But as he grew weaker and weaker, his sunshiny spirit shone all the brighter. With playful jests he tried to soothe the sad hearts of his dear ones, and to make them feel that the pain of parting was the only sting of death. He seldom, in- deed, made any reference to the dark shadow he felt so near; but one morning, three of four days before his death, he said to his son : " 'Well, Wendell, what is it ? King's Chapel ?' " 'Oh, yes, father,' said Judge Holmes. " 'Then I am satisfied. That is all I am going to say about it.' " Sam Houston 275 SAM HOUSTON THE BATTLE WHICH WON TEXAS OOME years ago Dr. Cyrus Townsencl Brady, in McClure's ^^ Magazine, with graphic force, retold the story of Sam Houston's great battle which won the independence of Texas : "On the i8th of April, 1836, the army reached Buffalo Bayou, then unfordable, opposite the ruins of Harrisburg, which Santa Anna had destroyed. "A celebrated scout named Deaf Smith met them here with a bag full of captured despatches, which showed that Santa Anna was with the force which had burned Harrisburg, and was marching to New Washington. Houston was overjoyed. Could he but capture the Mexican Commander-in-Chief he would be able to dictate terms of peace. Leaving his baggage wagons with a guard, he prepared to cross the bayou, taking with him the two cannon and a single ammunition wagon. In one leaky boat, and upon a rude timber raft they succeeded in ferrying over the army. By nightfall they were on the march toward the junction of Buffalo Bayou with the San Jacinto River, at a place called Lynch's Ferry where they hoped to head off the Mexicans. "The tired army marched twelve miles that night. Houston allowed his soldiers but a few hours for repose, and before dawn they started again and marched seven miles. Upon receipt of intelligence that the Mexican army was at hand, they left off preparations for breakfast, and marched posthaste to the ferry, across San Jacinto Bay, a little below the point where the Buffalo joins the river. "They reached it before the IMexicans. Six men captured a fiat boat loaded with flour and filled with Mexicans. The cargo was a welcome contribution to the American commis- sariat, for they were almost literally without anything to eat. "Thev now turned back up the Buffalo for about three- 276 Capital Stories About Famous Americans quarters of a mile, where Houston posted his army in a strong position in a thick wood on the edge of the bayou. In front of the camp lay a stretch of prairie broken by three clumps of trees, known as islands. On the left was the broad arm of San Jacinto Bay, the marshy shores of which swept around to the south front of them a mile away. The marsh grew wider to the southwest. Beyond the tree islands lay another clump of trees terminating in the marshland. The country to the southwest was also marshy and impassable. The road up which they had marched led across a deep ravine with high banks called Vince's Creek. The road crossed this creek on a wooden bridge about eight miles from the battleground. ' "Santa Anna, with some 1,200 of his men, was in New Washington when his scouts brought word that the American forces were at hand. A panic ensued, extending from the gen- eral to the soldiery ; but as the day wore on and no attack was made the Mexicans recovered their self-control, and marched toward Lynch's Ferry to meet the enemy. The Mex- ican advance came in touch with the Texans on the afternoon of the 20th. Santa Anna's artillery consisted of one nine- pounder. There was a fruitless duel between this gun and the 'Twin Sisters,' and some cavalry skirmishing which was not unimportant, in that it gave one Mirabeau B. Lamar an oppor- tunity to distinguish himself under fire by the daring rescue of a comrade. He was immediately promoted to the rank of colonel by Houston and given command of the sixty horse which comprised the Texan cavalry. "No attempt was made to bring on a general engagement that day. Santa Anna desired time to bring up a re-enforce- ment of 500 men. Houston is reported to have said that he wanted the Mexicans to bring up their whole available force, that he might not be compelled to make 'two bites at a cherry.' Santa Anna encamped in the woods to the south of the Texans, his right resting on the marshes, which extended around his Sam Houston 2^"] rear. He refused his left slightly, and protected his front by a flimsy intrenchment of pack saddles, baggage, etc., in the center of which he planted his nine-pounder. His cavalry, sev- eral hundred in number, he posted on the left. "On the morning of the 21st of April, 500 men under Gen- eral Cos marched up the road and joined Santa Anna. ■'Houston had fully decided upon his course. He called Deaf Smith to him, and bade him and a companion named Reeves procure two axes and hold themselves for orders. The Texans waited thinking the Mexicans, outnumbering them over two to one, would attack them. But Santa Anna made no movement, and Houston called a council of war. The two junior officers were in favor of attacking at once. All of the seniors said that it would be madness to attack regular and veteran soldiery with undrilled levies, pointing out that there were but two hundred bayonets in the Texan army, and that they had a good strong defensive position where they were. "Houston heard the discussion in silence. He had already made up his mind. He called Smith and Reeves to him, and secretly ordered them to go and cut down Vince's Bridge. In other words, he deliberately destroyed the only practicable means of escape for either army. By his action the battle which ensued was fought in an inclosure made by Buffalo Bayou on the north, San Jacinto Bay on the east, the marshes and waste land on the south, and Vince's Creek on the west. "At half after three o'clock the men were drawn up on the prairie. Colonel Burleson with the first regiment occupied the centre. Colonel Sherman was on the left with the second regi- ment with the two pieces of artillery posted on the right of Colonel Burleson's men. The guns were supported by four companies of infantry under Lieutenant-Colonel Millard. The newly celebrated Lamar occupied the right line with his cavalry. Secretary Rusk had command of the left, while Houston led the centre. 278 Capital Stories About Famous Americans "At four o'clock Houston gave the order to advance. The band, which consisted of the soHtary drum of famous memory, re-enforced by a single fife, struck up a popular air entitled. Will You Come to the Bower? The men with their guns a-trail advanced slowly, until they passed the timber islands and appeared in view of the surprised Mexicans. Then they broke into a run. Houston dashed up and down the lines on horseback, waving his old white hat, and directing his men. "When they were within two hundred feet of the Mexican line Deaf Smith tore madly on the field, and shouted in tones that could be heard all along the line: 'You must fight for your lives ! Vince's Bridge has been cut down !' Like Cortez, Houston had burned his boats behind him. If they did not con- quer, they would be like the army of Sennacherib, 'all dead corpses.' "The Mexican camp was a picture of consternation. Santa Anna was asleep ; many of the officers were taking their after- noon siesta; the cavalrymen were watering their horses; the company cooks were preparing for the evening meal ; the sol- diers were playing games. As they discovered tlie Texans, they ran to their arms, and delivered a wavering volley, which did almost no execution. One bullet struck Houston in the ankle making a bad wound, and several others hit his horse, but nothing could stop the advance. Before the Mexicans could discharge their cannon the Americans struck the place. "The 'Twin Sisters' had delivered two well-aimed shots, which had demolished a large portion of the flimsy barricade. As they reached the rampart the Texans fired point-blank at the huddled Mexicans. The volley did fearful execution. Be- fore the Spanish could fly, the fierce faces of the Americans burst upon them through the smoke, and with clubbed muskets, a few bayonets, and many bowie-knives, began their dreadful work. One cry ran over the field with ever-increasing volume, until it drowned the roar of the gfuns : Olivkr O. HowAEiD 279 " 'Remember the Alamo ! Remember Goliad ! Remember La Bahia !' "Inspired to fury by the recollection of the cruel massacres in which these men had participated, the Americans swept everything before them. In fifteen minutes the Mexican army was either dead or on the run. Lamar with his handful of horse had routed the Mexican cavalry. Horsemen were gal- loping headlong down the road toward Vince's Bridge pursued by the mounted Americans. The infantry on the Mexican right plunged into the marshes, only to be slaughtered as they stood enmired. "Santa Anna fled toward Vince's Bridge, hotly pursued hy Captain Karnes. When the fugitives found the crossing de- stroyed they faced about, but the pursuing Texans slaughtered them without mercy. A few, however, Santa Anna among the number, leaped recklessly into the ravine, and managed to escape. "The Mexican army had been completely routed. Six hun- dred and thirty bodies were left on the field. Two hundred and eight lay wounded. There were seven hundred and thirty prisoners, a few fugitives and many unknown and unaccounted for, who died in the marshes or rivers. The total Mexican force had been about eighteen hundred. Of the Texans, there were just seven hundred and eighty-three, of whom eight were killed and twenty-three wounded !" OLIVER O. HOWARD THE EMPTY SLEEVE TT was at the battle of Fairoaks where General Howard won ■*- his empty sleeve. He showed extraordinary bravery among brave men, and fought with a courage as dauntless as it was abiding. Headley says of his conduct at Fairoaks : "Howard exposed himself like the commonest soldier, until 28o Capital Stories About Famous Americans at last he was struck by a ball which shattered his arm. In- stantly waving the mutilated member aloft as a pennon, he cheered on his men to the charge, and was then borne from the field. "He was first wounded in his sword arm, and his brother, near at hand, tying a bandage about it, he held it high in the air, and called for the men at his command to charge. "Shortly before receiving this wound his horse was badly wounded in the shoulder. Waiting a few moments for another horse, he caused his men to lie down and creep under the shelter of the railway embankment. As soon as a fresh horse was brought up he mounted, and rode in front of his troops in line, and the men obeying his command with a shout, passed up through the woods and across the enemy's outer lines tak- ing prisoners. "During this action General Howard was wounded for a second time in his right arm, this time by a large minie-ball, which tore through and broke the bones of the elbow. He was helped from the saddle by Lieutenant Mclntyre, of the Sixty-fourth New York, aided by one or two private soldiers. Soon after he turned his command over to Colonel Barlow, and started for the rear. On the way, meeting his friend Colonel Brooke, he requested him to send Barlow re-enforcements. The loss of blood caused great faintness, and he was moving painfully along when a private, who was also wounded in the arm, though not so severely, put his well one around General Howard, and sustained his failing strength. "The surgeons examined the disabled arm, and declared that it must come oft; and gaining his ready consent, the sufferer was carried to the hospital and put upon the operating-table. From the nature of the wounds the suffering was intense until the amputation was completed. Then General Howard appeared to recover his usual vitality, which continued to sustain him. Oliver O. Howard 281 AFRAID OF HIS PRAYERS "Into battered and deserted Fredericksburg General How- ard accompanied his brigade on the evening of December 12th, 1862. On the morning of the 13th, as he sat with his officers at breakfast, a charming old lady who lived near by accosted him with the assurance that though they had taken Fredericks- burg, the Sonth would yet win the day. She was firm in her faith, and though the General predicted a different ending of the war, she smilingly asserted that her foes would have a 'Stonewall' to encounter, 'Hills' to climb, and a 'Longstreet' to wander through before they had finished their task. She watched the officers as they listened to the usual morning read- ing of the Scriptures by the General, and heard their cheerful words as they separated to attend to their respective duties. The old lady was struck with their actions, and said to General Howard, as he bade her good-morning: 'Now I fear you more than ever, for I had understood that all Lincoln's men were bad.' She wondered, she said, at his cheerfulness on the eve of battle, and was surprised that there were Christians among the Yankees. UNDER FIRE "One instance among the many that could be gathered will serve as an illustration of General Howard's conduct in battle. At Bald Hill, a place which was reached after passing the fields of Dallas and Good Hope, the Fourth Corps found a Confederate force in strong possession. The Confederates held the hill by infantry, and covered it by batteries not far ofif, bringing to bear a fearful artillery cross-fire. The men of Howard's leading division had tried to take the hill by storm, and had been more than once driven back. Hearing of the repulse, General Howard made his preparations with care, and when all was ready he took a position in plain sight of his men, quietly waiting the advance of his infantry on the crest of a 282 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans parapet behind which was a battery in full play. It was firing to clear the way for an infantry charge. The General did not move while the replies of the Confederate batteries caused shells to strike the parapet beneath his feet, the trees over his head, and filled the air with smoke, roar, and fragments. His staff and others begged him to dismount and go under cover. 'Not this time, gentlemen,' he replied ; 'we must take that hill.' Soon his men, who knew that he was watching them, cleared the crest and gained the height. It was a hot place, full of peril, and the General was anxious lest his men be again dislodged. He meant that they should stay and intrench the hill, and the instant he saw the skirmishers pass the crest he sprang into the saddle and, followed by one or two officers and orderlies, galloped to the very top of the height. His sol- diers welcomed him with a shout. The position was soon strongly intrenched by the willing men, and made secure against attack. "It is related that two soldiers of Howard's command, who were watching him while he sat motionless on his horse as the enemy's guns were discharging, remarked upon his attitude: " 'He don't seem to hear the thunder,' one said, motioning toward their commander, " *Oh, he's praying,' was the quick reply ; 'wait till he's through, and then he'll go in.' AT SHERMAN'S SIDE "Just before the review of the troops at the close of the war. General Howard was called to Washington by a telegram from Mr. Stanton, Secretary of War, and informed by the Secretary that it was Mr. Lincoln's wish that he should be- come the Freedmen's Commissioner, as contemplated in the law of Congress, as soon as his services could be spared from the field. And thereupon he put into General Howard's hands the act establishing the Freedmen's Bureau. 'Will you ac- Oliveir O. Howard 283 cept ? Think it over, and give me your answer as quickly as you can/ said the Secretary. General Howard looked upon the request as a legacy from the martyred President, and was in- clined to yield a ready assent. At the same time he wanted to remain in command of the army with which he had fought so many battles until after the grand review. "General Sherman advised him to accept the trust, and deprecated his refusal for any such reason, saying: " 'Howard, you are a Christian ; what do you care for that day's display? It will be everything to Logan to have the command ; why not let him have it ?' " 'If you put it in that ground, General,' replied Howard, 'I yield at once.' "He was disappointed, but quietly conquered his feelings, and asked permisison to ride with Sherman's staff. General Sherman generously replied : " 'Ride by my side, Howard.' And so, on the day of the great review, when this great commander at the head of the troops saluted President Johnson in front of the White House, General Howard was at his side, and with his bridle-reins in his mouth and his sword in his left hand, saluted the chief of the nation, and was a noticeable figure in the assembled multitude. Wherever he went he was quickly recognized, and hundreds cheered him as they looked at his empty sleeve. A HELPING HAND General Howard's life has been marked by wide usefulness in serving individuals whose needs he has helped and whose shortcomings he has tried to remove. Numberless instances might be related, one or two are given : E. C., a resident of Oregon, a man with a large family, had been for many years a notorious gambler and a rough. Through the prayers and influence of a few good women and 284 Capital Stories About Famous Americans the Lord's help, he had been converted. General distrust of the man led people to leave him and his family to shift for themselves. General Howard was his constant and never fail- ing friend, often lending him money, sometimes as high as two or three hundred dollars at a time. From being one of the worst of men he became one of the best, and has now for years led a most exemplary Christian life, and though poor in this world's goods has repaid every cent of those early loans. Mr. M., for years an infidel, had an infidel book to peruse. When his heart was smitten for his infidelity he brought his book to General Howard, and begged him to read it. General Howard said, *No; it might weaken my faith. That author is an able man." "But, General," said he, "read it for my sake." General Howard read the book, making marginal notes. One was, "What is needed here is the Holy Spirit of the living God." The General then gave him back his book, and one evening Mr. M. was among the seekers for divine guidance in the Young Men's Christian Association rooms. His voice shook with emotion while telling the incident and his eyes filled with tears. He became a changed man, and his Christian family were made happy by his conversion. One who had been a soldier with General Howard went to him one night and said: "General, I am a gambler ; I hope soon to be a better man, but I must wait God's time." "Oh, no," was the impetuous reply; "«o«' is the time." The two. General Howard and this veteran, walked and talked together for two hours. Soon he stood up in a meet- mg and made a public confession of religious belief. He be- came a Christian, surrendering his gambling implements, and has for years led a good life. OijvER O. Howard 285 CONQUERING A SALOON-KEEPER A saloon-keeper, who had been at one time imprisoned for crime, one day, in the streets of Portland, Oregon, gathered a number of roughs to do him harm. As the General was pass- ing, he cried out a bitter charge of gross criminality. Gen- eral Howard walked through the crowd, faced the man, and said, "You know that what you say is not true !" The man's countenance instantly changed, and, to the surprise of the by- standers, he said, "Yes, General Howard, I know you're a good man, but you interfere with my business." Others, standing about, ready to mob him, said, "We will not strike him; don't strike him ; he has no arms and is a cripple," referring to the loss of his right arm. THE SPOKANE CHIEF A Spokane chief, who had been protected in his rights by General Howard, came six hundred miles to put his children at school in the General's department. On the steamer that took General Howard from that de- partment, in 1880, the last interview between this chief and the General took place. The former was a magnificent speci- men of a man and a Christian. He pleaded with the General to remain. "We have given you our hearts," he said; "how can you leave us? What shall we do without you?" This sad leave-taking reminded General Howard of his parting with the wild Cochise in 1872. As the latter stood upon his own reserve, which General Howard had secured to him, he said, "You must not go; stay with us and all will be well." The General asked him, "If you gave orders to one of your captains to go and do a work and then return, what would you do to him if he disobeyed you?" "I would punish him," was the prompt reply. "Well, the President has sent me, and I must obey my orders ; is it not right ?" 286 CapitaIv Stories About Famous Americans "Yes; but ask him to let you come again," was the reply. General Howard promised to do so, when the warrior ap- proached, put his arms about and held him for some minutes against his breast. General Howard has had many wars with the Indians, but could the truth be known his influence has been nine to one for peace. His soul, instead, rejoices in schools, churches, and homes. I JULIA WARD HOWE THE BIRTH OF "THE BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC" F Julia Ward Howe had never done anything except to write the Battle Hymn of the Republic it would have given her a name as imperishable as American history. In a volume en- titled Immortal Songs of Camp and Field, written by the editor of this volume, the following story of the birth of that won- derful hymn is taken : The Battle Hymn of the Republic had its birth-throes amid the storms of war. In December, 1861, Mrs. Howe, in company with her husband, Governo'r and Mrs. John A. Andrew, Rev. Dr. James Freeman Clarke, and other friends, made a journey to Washington. They arrived in the night. As their train sped on through the darkness, they saw in vivid contrast the camp fires of the pickets set to guard the line of the railroad. The troops lay encamped around the Capital City, their lines extending to a considerable distance. At the Hotel where the Boston party were entertained, officers and Itheir orderlies were conspicuous, and army ambulances were "constantly arriving and departing. The gallop of horsemen, the tramp of foot soldiers, the noise of drum, fife, and bugle were heard continually. The two great powers were holding each other in check. The one absorbing thought in Washing- ton was the army, and the time of the visitors was generally employed in visits to the camps and hospitals. Julia Ward Howe 287J One day during this visit a party which included Doctor and Mrs. Howe and Doctor Clarke attended a review of the Union troops at a distance of several miles from the city. The maneuvers were interrupted by a sudden attack of the enemy, and instead of the spectacle promised them, they saw some re- inforcements of cavalry gallop hastily to the aid of a small force of Federal troops which had been surprised and surrounded. They returned to the city as soon as possible, but their progress was much impeded by marching troops who nearly filled the highway. As they had to drive very slowly, in order to be- guile the time they began to sing army songs, among which the John Brozvn song soon came to mind. This caught the ears of the soldiers and they joined in the inspiring chorus, and made it ring and ring again. Mrs. Howe was greatly impressed by the long lines of soldiers and the devotion and enthusiasm which they evinced, as they sung while they marched, John Brozvn' s Body. James Freeman Clarke, seeing Mrs. Howe's deep emotion which was mirrored in her intense face, said : "You ought to write some new words to go with that tune." "I will," she earnestly replied. She went back to Washington, went to bed, and finally fell asleep. She awoke in the night to find her now famous hymn beginning to form itself in her brain. As she lay still in the dark room, line after line and verse after verse shaped themselves. When she had thought out the last of these, she felt that she dared not go to sleep again lest they should be effaced by a morning nap. She sprang out of bed and groped about in the dim December twilight to find a bit of paper and the stump of a pencil with which she had been writing the eve- ning before. Having found these articles, and having long been accustomed to jot down stray thoughts with scarcely any light in a room made dark for the repose of her infant chil- dren, she very soon completed her writing, went back to bed, and fell fast asleep. 288 Capital Stories About Famous Americans What sublime and splendid words she had written ! There is in them the spirit of the old prophets. Nothing could be grander than the first line: "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." In the second verse one sees through her eyes the vivid picture she had witnessed in her afternoon's visit to the army : "I have seen him in the watchfires of a hundred circling camps ; They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps ; I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps ; His day is marching on." In the third and fourth verses there is a triumphant note of daring faith and prophecy that was -wonderfully contagious, and millions of men and women took heart again as they read or sang and caught its optimistic note : "He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat ; He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat; Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer him ! be jubilant, my feet ! Our God is marching on." On returning to Boston, Mrs. Howe carried her hymn to James T. Fields, at that time the editor of the Atlantic Monthly, and it was first published in that magazine. The title. The Battle Hymn of the Republic, was the work of Mr. Fields. Strange to say, when it first appeared the song aroused no special attention. Though it was destined to have such world- wide appreciation, it won its first victory in Libby Prison. Nearly a year after its publication, a copy of a newspaper con- taining it was smuggled into the prison, where many hundreds JOSEPH H. CHOATE MARK A. HANNA THOMAS BRACKETT REED CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW GEORGE W. CHILDS Julia Ward Howe 291 of Northern officers and soldiers were confined, among them being the brilHant Chaplain, now Bishop, Charles C. McCabe. The Chaplain could sing anything and make music out of it, but he seized on this splendid battle hymn with enthusiactic delight. It makes the blood in one's veins boil again with patriotic fervor to hear him tell how the tears rained down strong men's cheeks as they sang in the Southern prison, far away from home and friends, those wonderful closing lines : "In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me ; As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free. While God is marching on." It was Chaplain McCabe who had the privilege and honor of calling public attention to the song after his release. He came to Washington and in his lecture (that has come to be almost as famous as the battle hymn) on The Bright Side of Life in Libby Prison, he described the singing of the hymn by himself and his companions in that dismal place of confine- ment. People now began to ask who had written the hymn, and the author's name was easily established by a reference to the magazine. The hymn complete, as originally written by Mrs. Howe,, is as follows:- "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord ; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift sword : His truth is marching on. "I have seen him in the watchfires of a hundred circling camps ; They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps ;, 292 Capitaiv Stories About Famous Americans I have read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps ; His day is marching on. 'I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel : As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, Since God is marching on.' *'He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat ; He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat; Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. "In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me ; As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free. While God is marching on." ANDREW JACKSON HIS MEETING WITH JOHN QUINCY ADAMS "IV /TR. S. C. GOODRICH relates an incident which occurred •^^-^ at the White House at a Presidential levee just after Jackson had been defeated by John Quincy Adams for the Presidency. Mr. Goodrich says :• "The two persons in the assembly who, most of all others, engrossed the thoughts of the visitors — Mr. Adams, the elect ; General Jackson, the defeated. It chanced in the course of the evening that these two persons, involved in the throng, ap- proached each other from opposite directions, yet without know- ing it. Suddenly, as they were almost together, the persons around, seeing what was to happen, by a sort of instinct stepped aside and left them face to face. Mr. Adams was by himself; Andrew Jackson 293: General Jackson had a large, handsome lady on his arm. They looked at each other for a moment, and then General Jackson moved forward, and reaching out his long arm, said : 'How do you do, Mr. Adams? I give you my left hand, for the right,, as you see, is devoted to the fair: I hope you are very well, sir.' All this was gallantly and heartily said and done. Mr. Adams took the General's hand, and said, with chilling coldness : 'Very well, sir ; I hope General Jackson is well !' It was curious to see the western planter, the Indian fighter, the stern soldier, who had written his country's glory in the blood of the enemy at New Orleans, genial and gracious in the midst of a court, while the old courtier and diplomat was stiff, rigid, cold as a statue! It was all the more remarkable from the fact that, four hours before, the former had been- defeated, and the latter was the victor, in a struggle for one of the highest objects of human ambition." THE DEATH OF JACKSON'S WIFE The great sunset of Andrew Jackson's life on the social' side came unexpectedly only three months before he entered the White House in the death of his dearly loved wife. James Parton, has greatest biographer, learned the story of that sad incident from good "Old Hanna," the faithful servant in whose arms she breathed her last : "It was a Wednesday morning, December 17. All was going on as usual at the Hermitage. The General was in the fields, at some distance from the house, and Mrs. Jackson, apparently in tolerable health, was occupied in her household duties. Old Hannah asked her to come into the kitchen to give her opinion upon some article of food that was in course of preparation. She performed the duty required of her, and returned to her usual sitting-room, followed by Hannah. Sud- denly, she uttered a horrible shriek, placed her hands upon her heart, sunk into a chair, struggling for breath, and feir 294 Capital Stories About Famous Americans forward into Hannah's arms. There were only servants in the house; many of whom ran frantically in, uttering the Joud lamentations with which Africans are wont to give vent to their feelings. The stricken lady was placed upon her bed, and while messengers hurried away for assistance, Hannah employed the only remedy she knew to relieve the anguish of her mistress, 'I rubbed her side,' said the plain-spoken Han- nah, 'till it was black and blue.' No relief. She writhed in agony. She fought for breath. The General came in alarmed beyond description. The doc- tor arrived. Mrs. A. J. Donelson hurried in from her house near by. The Hermitage was soon filled with near relatives, friends, and servants. With short intervals of partial relief, Mrs. Jackson continued to suffer all that a woman could suffer, for the space of sixty hours ; during which her husband never left her bedside for ten minutes. On Friday evening she was much better ; was almost free from pain ; and breathed with far less difficulty. The first use, and, indeed, the only use she made of her recovered speech was, to protest to the General that she was quite well, and to implore him to go to another room and sleep, and by no means to allow her indis- position to prevent his attending the banquet on the 23d. She told him that the day of the banquet would be a very fatiguing one, and he must not permit his strength to be reduced by want of sleep. "Still, the General would not leave her. He distrusted this sudden relief. He feared it was the relief of torpor or €xhaustion ; and the more, as the remedies prescribed by Dr. Hogg, the attending physician, had not produced their designed effect. Saturday and Sunday passed, and still she lay free from serious pain, but weak and listless ; the General still her watchful, constant, almost sleepless attendant. "On Monday evening, the evening before the 23d, her dis- ease appeared to take a decided turn for the better; and she Andrew Jackson 295 then so earnestly entreated the General to prepare for the fatigues of the morrow by having a night of undisturbed sleep, that he consented, at last, to go into an adjoining room and lie down upon a sofa. The doctor was still in the house, Hannah and George were to sit up with their mistress. "At 9 o'clock, the General bade her good night, went into the next room, and took off his coat, preparatory to lying down. He had been gone about five minutes ; Mrs. Jackson was then, for the first time, removed from her bed, that it might be arranged for the night. While sitting in a chair, sup- ported in the arms of Hannah, she uttered a long, loud, inartic- ulate cry ; which was immediately followed by a rattling noise in the throat. Her head fell forward upon Hannah's shoulder. She never spoke or breathed again. "There was a wild rush into the room of husband, doctor, relatives, friends, and servants. The General assisted to lay her upon the bed. 'Bleed her!' he cried. No blood flowed from her arm. 'Try the temple, doctor!' Two drops stained her cap, but no more followed. "It was long before he would believe her dead. He looked eagerly into her face, as if still expecting to see signs of re- turning life. Her hands and feet grew cold. There could be no doubt then, and they prepared a table for laying her out. With a choking voice, the General said : " \Spread four blankets upon it. If she comes to, she will lie so hard upon the table.' "He sat all night alone in the room by her side, with his face in his hands 'grieving,' said Hannah, and occasionally looking into the face, and feeling the heart and pulse of the form so dear to him. Major Lewis, who had been immediately sent for, arrived just before daylight, and found him still there, nearly speechless, and wholly inconsolable. He sat in the room nearly all the next day, the picture of despair. " 'And this was the way,' concluded Hannah, 'that old J296 Capital, Stories About Famous Americans .mistus died; and we always say, that when w^e lost her, we lost a mistus and a mother, too ; and more a mother than a mistus. And we say the same of old master ; for he was more a father to us than a master, and many's the time we've wished him back again to help us out of our troubles.' " JACKSON'S MOURNING FOR HIS LOST LOVE Mr. Trist, Jackson's private secretary, relates this tender and touching incident : "One evening," writes Mr. Trist, "after I parted with him for the night, revolving over the directions he had given about come letters I was to prepare, one point occurred on which I was not perfectly satisfied as to what those directions had been. As the letters were to be sent off early next morning, I re- turned to his chamber door, and, tapping gently, in order not to wake him if he had got to sleep, my tap was answered by ■'come in.' "He was undressed, but not yet in bed, as I had supposed he must be by that time. He was sitting at the little table, with his wife's miniature — a very large one, then for the first time seen by me — before him, propped up against some books ; and between him and the picture lay an open book, which bore the marks of long use. ''This book, as I afterward learned, was her prayer-book. The miniature he always wore next to his heart, suspended round his neck by a strong, black cord. The last thing he did every night, before lying down to rest, was to read in that book with that picture under his eyes, "In Washington, on going one day into the President's office, I found that I had broken in upon a tete-a-tete between him and Charles, his negro driver, Charles was looking the culprit to his best, that is, as well as was permitted by a lurk- ing smile, which betrayed his consciousness that nothing very terrible was coming. As I entered, the General was saying. Andrew Jackson 297 'Charles, you know zvhy I value that carnage. This is the sec- ond time it has happened ; and, if it ever happens again, I will send you back to Tennessee.' "This lecture and threat Charles had brought upon himself by having left his coach-box, as the natural consequence of which the horses had run away and broken the carriage. "In this scene I was struck with the fact that the General's thoughts and feelings dwelt upon the carriage, upon the in- jury sustained by it, without turning at all upon the expense of the injury to the horses, noble dapple grays, his favorite color, of his own rearing, and descendants of his famous horse Truxton. I at once inferred that this 'zvhy' had reference to- his wife; and upon inquiry of Colonel Earl, my conjecture was verified. Because the carriage had been hers^ it was better than any new one ; it must never be given up, but always re- paired and made as good as new, though the cost might be greater than that of a new one. ^ :}; ^ -J; ^ 5-: :J: 5}; :J; 3*; -^ "Another of the numberless particulars of the undying^ fidelity — the truly feminine fidelity — of General Jackson's char- acter manifesting itself in regard to his wife's memory, was the relation established by him toward Colonel Earl, the por- trait-painter. As a Nashville artist, Earl had been a protege of Mrs. Jackson, one of the many objects on w^hich the kind- ness of heart recorded in the epitaph — so different in truthful- ness from most epitaphs — had found its indulgence. This was enough. By her death, this relative became sanctified for the General's heart. Earl became forthwith his protege. From that time forward the painter's home was under his roof, at Washington, in Tennessee, in the President's house, as at the Hermitage, where he died before the General. And this treat- ment was amply repaid. His devotion was more untiring even than his brush, and its steadiness would have proved itself, at any moment the opportunity might have offered, by his cheer- 298 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans fully laying- down his life in his service. If he had had a thous- and lives, they would, I feel sure, have been so laid down, one after the other, with the same perseverance that one canvas after another was lifted to his easel, there to keep its place till it had received 'the General.' " A LONELY PRESIDENT A New York politician who was a confidential secretary in the State Department relates this story of Jackson : "One day, when I had had to wait long for an opportunity to transact business with him, I chanced to make a remark which, I think, had an important effect upon my whole subse- quent career. He had got rid of his visitors one after another, and at last we two sat alone in the office. He had signed my accounts with his great pen, and we were conversing on some topic of the day. He seemed tired and melancholy, and I was moved to say something kind to him. I saw not before me the conquering General, nor the illustrious President, but a tired, sad old man, far from his home and friends, farthest of all from his wife, and approached chiefly by flatterers, beggars, and sycophants. What to say to him I knew not, but I con- trived, at last, to blunder out this : " 'General, I should think you'd feel lonely here.' "Xonely?' he exclaimed. 'How can you think so? Most people would think I had plenty of company. What makes you think I am lonely?' " 'Well, General,' I replied, 'I don't mean lonely exactly. But it is not here as it was at the Hermitage, where your friends could come in and chat with you in a social way.' " 'No,' said the President, 'it is not here as it was at the Hermitage. There you are right, my young friend.' " 'I'll tell you. General,' I continued, 'exactly what I mean. Everyone that comes here has an axe to grind, at least it seems so to me, and, in fact, they say so themselves.' Andrew Jackson 299 " 'Yes,' said the General, 'I suppose that's so. Now, let me ask you, what ax have you to grind?' " 'My ax is ground,' said I. " 'It is, is it ?' said the General, laughing. " 'Yes, sir, my ax is ground. I have the pleasantest place in the department, and I am perfectly satisfied with it' " 'You are perfectly satisfied, are you ?' " 'Perfectly.' " 'You have reached the summit of your ambition, then ?' " 'Certainly, General. I ask nothing better. I wish nothing better.' " 'You have no ax to grind at all?' " 'None, General, none whatever.' " 'Neither for yourself nor for anybody else?' " 'Neither for myself nor for anybody else." "Upon this the old man rose, took my hand, and said with much tenderness : " 'My young friend, come often to see me, and we'll have many a good chat together, just as if we were at the Her- mitage.' "From that time forward I cannot be mistaken in sup- posing I was a favorite with General Jackson. He treated me with the most marked cordiality, and appeared to give me all his confidence. The time came when I put his favor to the test, and it stood the test." HOW A POLITICIAN GOT THE BEST OF JACKSON A public man of the time relates this suggestive story as illustrating Jackson's character. He says : "The General was a striking illustration of the doctrine of compensation. His will, if directly resisted, was not to be shaken by mortal power ; but, if artfully managed, he was more easily swayed and imposed upon than any man in his day. There was a certain member of Congress who had set his 300 Capital Stories About Famous Americans heart upon a foreign mission, and had long tried to compass his aim, without effect. He obtained a clue, in some way, to one of the General's weaknesses, and changed his tactics in consequence. He cultivated my acquaintance assiduously, and accompanied me sometimes to the White House, where he gradually established himself upon a footing of office familiar- ity. I saw him one afternoon perform the following scene in the General's private office, myself being the only spectator thereof. The President was smoking his pipe. " 'General Jackson,' began the member, 'I am about to ask you a favor — a favor, sir, that will cost you nothing, and the Government nothing, but will gratify me exceedingly.' " 'It's granted, sir,' said the President. 'What is it ?' " 'Well, General, I have an old father at home who has as great an esteem for your character as one man can have for another. Before I left home, he charged me to get for him, if possible, one of General Jackson's pipes, and that is the favor I now ask of you.' " 'Oh, certainly,' he replied, laughing and ringing the bell. "When the servant came, he told him to bring two or thfee clean pipes. " 'Excuse me. General,' said the member, 'but may I ask you for that very pipe you have just been smoking?' "'This one?' asked the General. 'By all means, if you prefer it.' "The President was proceeding to empty it of the ashes, when the member once more interrupted him. " 'No, General, don't empty out the tobacco. I want that pipe just as it is, just as it left your lips.' "The member took the pipe to the table, folded it carefully and reverently in a piece of paper, thanked the General for the precious gift with the utmost warmth, and left the room with the air of a man whose highest flight of ambition had just been more than gratified. Andrew Jackson 301 "In a little less than three weeks after, that man departed on a mission to one of the South American States, and it was that pipe that did the business for him. At least I thought so; and if there is any meaning in a wink, he thought so too. It was also a fact, as he in confidence assured me, that his old father did revere General Jackson, and tvoiild be much gratified to possess one of his pipes. I once heard a pill- vender say to one who had laughed at his extravagant ad- vertisements : " 'Well, these pills of mine, to my certain knowledge, have cured some people.' " JACKSON'S LESSON TO A FOREIGN DIPLOMAT A State Department official in Jackson's administration, relates this characteristic story : "In the Northeast Boundary Dispute the King of the Neth- erlands offered his arbitration. The offer was accepted, and we of the State Department were much occupied in preparing the necessary documents for transmission to Europe. One day, in the course of these preparations, a gentleman con- nected with the commission, a rather pompous individual, a son of a foreign consul, born and educated abroad, came into my office and requested me to have one set of the documents printed on the finest tinted drawing-paper, and bound in the most gorgeous and costly manner possible. This set, he said, was for the King's own use. The documents, he further re- marked, ought to be bound in Paris, for the work could not be done in America as it ought to be. Nevertheless, I must have them done as well as the state of the arts in the United States admitted, regardless of expense. "Nettled both by the manner and the matter of this gen- tleman's discourse, and not perceiving any necessity for such a lavish expenditure of the public money, I told him that, the Secretary of State being absent from the city, I did not 302 Capital Stories About Fai^ious Americans feel authorized to comply with his wishes. Nothing of the kind had ever been done before in the department, and any thing so unusual could only be warranted by the Secretary's special order. The documents were numerous, and would form several large volumes. " 'But, sir,' said he, with much hauteur, 'you forget that these volumes are designed, not for ambassadors and secreta- ries, but for the King of a country.' " 'Well,' said I, 'without the express orders of the Sec- retary of State or of the President, I must decline doing any thing in the matter.' " *I will assume the entire responsibility,' he replied, 'and hold you blameless. If the Secretary of State disapproves, I will take the consequences.' " 'Very well,' said I, 'if you shoulder the responsibility I Avill proceed.' "After he had taken his departure, however, I looked into the law and the precedents, and became satisfied that there was neither law nor precedent for the work proposed. I also calculated the expense of the printing and binding, and found it would amount to several hundred dollars. The more I thought over the matter the greater was my repugnance to ordering the work, and the result of my cogitations was that I went to the White House to consult the President on the subject. I found the President alone, and soon told my story. "As I proceeded, the General left his seat and began to walk up and down the room, quickening his pace as I went on. At length he broke into a loud and vehement harangue, still pacing the floor: " 'Go on, Mr. Clark,' he exclaimed ; 'you are perfectly correct, sir. Tell this gentleman for me, that Benjamin Franklin, in his woolen stockings was no disgrace to this country. This Government will never sanction what these gentlemen wish. The same habits brought reflections upon the Andrew Jackson 303 last administration — 'those beautiful portfolios, dhose treaty boxes, and other things of that kind. It shall not be done, sir. I say again, sir, and I wish those gentlemen to know it, that no man ever did such honor to this country abroad as old Ben Franklin, who wore his homespun blue woolen stockings, and all Paris loved him for it. Go on, sir, as you have begun. Have these things done — not meanly — but plain and simple, conformable to our Republican principles. This Mr. , I be- lieve, is a Frenchman. He has foreign notions. He has got his appointment ; but if he had not got it, I do not say he would. A King, indeed ! What's a King, that he should re- ceive things in this splendid style? We ought to have things done in the best, plain, unpretending manner, and no other; and so, sir, have them done. Now, sir, you know my views, and the Secretary of State's also, for his views are mine in these things. Therefore, go on as you deem right, religiously, and fear not. Say to the commissioner that I do not approve these extravagances. When he arrives in Europe he may have them fixed according to his notions at his own expense, not the Gov- ernment's. Heaven and earth may come together, but Andrew Jackson will never swerve from principle.' " 'I am proud, General,' said I, 'to have your approbation of my course. There is just one other remark that I would like to make, with your permission." " 'Proceed, sir,' said the President, with the air of a man ordering a charge of cavalry. " 'This commissioner,' said I, 'is a man of power and reputation. I am, as you are aware, in a position very differ- ent from his. It seems to me that, like a cockboat encountering a seventy-four, I shall be swamped. He is, besides, a friend of the Secretary of State. I never knew an instance of a subordi- nate getting on than by deferring to the wishes of his chief." "'No exception to that rule?' he asked, with one of his knowinsf looks. 304 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans " 'I have never known one,' I replied. " *I think there are exceptions, Mr. Clark. I think there are. I believe you will not be swamped on this occasion, Mr. Cockboat. Any communication you may receive from the Sec- retary of State, during his absence, bring to me.' "I took leave, returned to my office, and immediately wrote to the commissioner the following letter: " 'Sir — The President, in conversation with me this morn- ing directed me to inform you that he did not authorize, but ex- pressly forbade, that the port-folio books relating to the Northeast Boundary for arbitrator, the King of the Nether- lands, should be done in any other manner than that of plain, republican simplicity ; remarking, at the same time, that no dif- ference should exist between those destined for the King and any others that emanate from the government. He happily illustrated his ideas on this subject, by the expression that, in his opinion, Benjamin Franklin, in his blue stockings, was no disgrace to his country. During the conversation I had with him, he directed me to say to you, that he wished every thing of the kind done in the best plain and substantial manner, and not according to foreign ideas of such things, and expressly directed me in this case to have them done in that manner. Understanding from you that these documents must be com- pleted with dispatch, they will be done in the manner described in the shortest time possible. I am, etc., "X. Clark.' '^ "I luckily kept a copy of this epistle. I say luckily, for a day or two after, upon going to the President upon other business, I found him cool and reserved toward me. " 'You have written an abusive letter to the Commissioner,' said he. " 'No, General, I have not. I wrote him just such a letter as you directed, and here is a copy of it.' i Andrew Jackson 305 "He read the letter, and said it expressed his ideas exactly, and he was perfectly satisfied with it. His good humor was restored." A POLITICIAN'S EXPERIENCE The gentleman who related the incident recorded above tells an interesting story of his own experience as an office- holder. He says : "The time came at length, when I, too, was a suitor for Presidential favor, and I venture to say that no one has ever obtained a lucrative office more easily and unexpectedly than I did. By accident I heard of the vacancy one mail before any- one else in Washington. It was an office that secured to a pru- dent incumbent not income merely, but competence; one of those city places the fees of which had been fixed when the city was a small town, the mere growth of the city had rendered this office one of the best things in the gift of the Federal Government. In twenty-four hours there would have been fifty applicants for it — in a week, two hundred. "I went straightway to the President's office, and addressed him in words like these : " 'General, the no-matter-what-ship of New York is va- cant. You will be notified of the fact to-morrow morning. It was long ago understood between you and myself, that the straightforward way of doing business was the best, and I will proceed in that way upon the present occasion. I will ask you two questions. Do you consider me competent to discharge the duties of that office?' " 'I do,' said the President. " 'Will you give me the appointment?' " 'I will,' was his instantaneous reply. "And he did. My name was sent to the Senate immediately. The nomination was confirmed, and I was soon at my new post, to the great astonishment of several worthy gentlem.en 3o6 Capitai, Stories Abou't Famous Americans who were striving, with might and main, by night and day, to secure the place for themselves. At the expiration of my term of four years, I went to Washington and asked a reap- pointment in precisely the same manner, and received for an- swer the same emphatic and instantaneous 'I will,' as before. On this occasion, the private secretary being busy, he re- quested me to write my own nomination. I did so, but as it was deemed best that the document should go to the Senate in the usual hand-writing, Major Donelson copied it, and sent it to the capitol. ''The General invited me to dinner. I had sent him some months before, a barrel of hickory nuts, and after dinner he said to a servant : " 'Bring some of Mr. Clark's hickory nuts.' " 'I am flattered. General,' said I, 'that you should re- member it.' " 'Oh,' said he, 'I never forget my friends.' "At the table, I observed, every guest was provided with two forks, one of steel, the other of silver. The President adhered to the primitive metal. "Mr. Forsyth was then Secretary of State. I called upon him, and informed him of my reappointment, and that my name was then before the Senate. " 'Have you called upon your Senators ?' he asked. " 'I have not,' was my innocent reply ; 'I did not suppose it necessary.' " 'Oh, no,' said he, 'it is not necessary. If General Jack- son says so, that's enough. There's no Secretary of State, no Senate, no any body — if General Jackson has made up his mind.' "Mr. Van Buren, who was sitting near, laughed. Mr. For- syth laughed, I laughed, we performed a laughing trio ; in the midst of which I took my leave, well assured in my own mind,, that I had the best of the joke. Andrew Jackson 307 "Four years later, however, Mr, Van Vuren being Presi- dent, I took a slightly different view of the matter. As the ex- piration of my second term drew near, I employed all the usual arts, and some of the unusual ones, to secure a reappoint- ment, and entertained confident hopes of success. Indeed, I felt assured of it, and had reason to do so, though from the President himself I had heard nothing. My second term ex- pired, and still I had learnt nothing of the fate of my applica- tion. The next morning, at 10 o'clock precisely, a gentleman entered my office, and, presenting his commission, informed me, with the utmost politeness, that I was no longer in the service of the government, and that I saw before me that dread being — terror of all office-holders — a successor! "I have seen many heads taken off in my time, but uever one quite so neatly as my own." PULLING A PRESIDENTS NOSE During the spring and summer of 1833 Jackson spent mucH time travelling and in drinking deep draughts of the bewilder- ing cup of adulation. "An event occurred on the first day's journey that was not of an adulatory nature. On the sixth of May, the President, accompanied by members of his cabinet and by Major Donel- son, left the capital, in a steamboat, for Fredericksburg, Vir- ginia, where he was to lay the corner-stone of that monument to the mother of Washington which is still unfinished. At Alexandria, where the steamer touched, there came on board a Mr. Randolph, late a Lieutenant in the navy, who had been recently dismissed the service. Randolph went to the cabin, and found the President sitting at a table reading a newspaper. He approached the table, as if to salute the President. " 'Excuse my rising, sir,' said the General, who was not acquainted with Randolph. 'I have a pain in my side which makes it distressing: for me to rise.' 3o8 CapitaIv Stories About Famous Americans "Randolph made no reply to this courteous apology, but appeared to be trying to take oft' his glove. " 'Never mind your glove, sir/ said the General, holding out his hand. "At this moment, Randolph thrust his hand violently into the President's face, intending, as it appeared, to pull his nose. The Captain of the boat, who was standing by, instantly seized Randolph, and drew him back. A violent scuffle ensued, dur- ing which the table was broken. The friends of Randolph clutched him, and hurried him ashore before many of the pass- engers knew what had occurred, and thus he effected his es- cape. The passengers soon crowded into the cabin to learn if the General was hurt. " 'Had I known,' said he 'that Randolph stood before me, I should have been prepared for him, and I could have de- fended myself. No villain has ever escaped me before ; and he would not, had it not been for my confined situation.' "Some blood was seen on his face, and he was asked whether he had been much injured? " 'No,' said he, 'I am not much hurt ; but in endeavoring to rise I have wounded my side, which now pains me more than it did.' "One of the citizens of Alexandria, who had heard of the outrage, addressed the General, and said : 'Sir, if you will pardon me, in case I am tried and convicted, I will kill Ran- dolph for this insult to you, in fifteen minutes !' " 'No, sir,' said the President, 'I cannot do that. I want no man to stand between me and my assailants, and none to take revenge on my account. Had I been prepared for this cow- ardly villain's approach, I can assure you all that he would never have the temerity to undertake such a thing again.' "Randolph published statements in the newspapers of the 'wrongs* which he said he had received at the hands of the Government. Andrew Jackson 309 ''The opposition papers, though condemning the outrage, did not fail to remind the President of certain passages in his own Hfe and conversation which sanctioned a resort to violence. Randolph seems never to have been prosecuted for the as- sault. His friends said that his object was merely to pull the President's nose, which, they firmly declared he actually did." UNSELFISH FRIENDSHIP Francis P. Blair relates an anecdote showing that dearly as General Jackson loved a horse he loved his friend better. This is the story : ''Three young horses, descended from the great Truxton, were brought from the Hermitage to Washington. On a beautiful spring day they were to be tried upon a race-course near the city. Early in the morning of that day, Mr. Blair had occasion to visit the President's office, where he found Major Donelson, booted and spurred, just about to ride away to the race-course to see what the young horses could do. " 'Come with us, Blair,' said Major Donelson, 'it's a fine day, and you'll enjoy it." " 'No,' said Mr. Blair, 'I can't go to-day. Besides, I've no horse.' " 'Well, get one from the livery stable.' " 'Not to-day, Major.' "The President, who was in the room, busy over some papers, cried out : " 'Why, Mr. Blair, take my horse. Donelson, order my horse for Mr. Blair.' "The Secretary hesitated, looked confused, and at last stam- mered out : " 'Well, Blair, come on, then.' "They walked out together, and getting to the bottom of the steps, found the General's well known horse already sad- dled and bridled. 3 10 Capital Stories About Famous Americans " 'Why, the General is going himself, then !' exclaimed Mr. Blair. " 'He was going,' said the Major, sorrowfully, 'but he won't go now.' " 'But let us go back and persuade him.' " 'It will be of no use,' said Major Donelson. 'He had set his heart upon seeing those colts run to-day. But he has now set his heart upon your going. I know him, Blair. It will only offend him if we say another word about it. He has made up his mind that you shall go, and that he will not. So, mount.' " STONEWALL JACKSON A NIGHT RIDE "LTERE is a trio of stories suggestive of Jackson's character -*- and the time. One evening Jackson was at Frederick's Hall. A notable lady of the town sent him an invitation to take breakfast with her the next morning, and he courteously thanked her and said : "If I can, I will be happy to do so." But when the good lady sent to summon him to breakfast, liis famous body servant, Jim, met the messenger with a look of astonishment, and said: "Lor, you surely didn't spec' to find the Ginerul here at dis hour, did you? You don't know him den. Why he left here at one o'clock dis mornin' and I spec' he is whippin' de Yankees in de Valley again by now." The truth was he had ridden into Richmond — a distance of fifty miles — to have an interview with General Lee, and re- ceive his final instructions as to the part he was to take in the great battle that was impending, and he did it so secretly that the army knew nothing of his absence, and Richmond nothing of his presence within her walls. It was on this ride that a characteristic incident occurred. Stonewaix Jackson 311 Before day Mr. Matthew Hope, a respected citizen living in the lower part of Louisa County, was awakened by the clatter of horses' hoofs and a call in front of his house. Asking, "Who is there?" he received for answer: "Two Confederate officers who are on important business and want two fresh horses to ride. Have you two good horses ?" "Yes! I always keep good horses," was Mr. Hope's reply, "but I cannot lend them to every straggler who claims to be a Confederate officer on important business. You cannot have my horses." "But our business is very urgent. We must, and will have them,, and you had as well saddle them at once. We will leave our horses in their places." "I do not saddle my own horses," was the indignant reply. "I keep negroes for that purpose, and I shall certainly not saddle them for you, especially as I have no assurance that you will ever bring them back." The officers soon got the horses and galloped off with them, and Mr. Hope was very much astonished when several days afterward they were returned in good condition, "with the thanks and compliments of General Jackson," and exclaimed, "Why did he not tell me that he was Stonewall Jackson? If I had only known who he was I would have cheerfully given him all the horses on the place, and have saddled them for him, too!" It is related that on this march Jackson met one of Hood's Texans straggling from his command, when the following con- versation occurred : "Where are you going, sir?" "I don't know." "What command do you belong to?" "Don't know, sir." "What State are you from ?" "I cannot tell." "What do you know, then, sir?" "Nothing at all at this time, sir," replied the Texan; "old 312 CapitaIv Storie;s About Famous Americans Stonewall says that we are to be knownothings until after the next fight, and you shall not make me violate his orders." Jackson smiled and passed on. WHY JACKSON DID NOT DRINK General Bradley T. Johnston relates the following incident of Jackson: "One evening he sent for me to come to his quarters, and I rode over to Bunker Hill to see him. He wanted to talk to me about my promotion, to secure which he greatly interested himself, and said I should stay there all night, and in the morning we would lay the subject before General Lee. I slipped out after this very diry conversation, and Hunter McGuire, his medical director, and I 'sampled' some very new and very fine apple-jack which Hunter had hid under his blankets in the mess tent. At the supper table — we had three turkeys for supper, I remember; the women of that neighbor- hood lavished good things to eat on 'their Stonewall' for he was 'theirs' — McGuire and I, moved and seduced by the spirit of mischief and possibly also by the spirit of apple-jack, started a learned discussion on the discovery, use and effects of alco- hol on the human physiology, its effect on the heart and circu- lation, and on the brain and the nerves. We concluded that it was an unmitigated evil and that we did not like either the taste or the effect of it. Drinking, we concluded, was the great curse of modern civilization ; we had the grace not to pretend that we did not drink but to deplore the abuse and extended use of alcohol and its bad effects. "So far the discussion had been confined to the two young braggarts, who were showing off their knowledge to hide their offenses. "The General sat straight, never looked to the right nor to the left, and let the cockerels crow themselves out. Then said he, 'I like the taste and effect both, that's the reason I Joseph Jei^ferson 313 never touch it.' To this day I don't know whether he smelled a rat, from the odor of the apple-jack in the tent or the loquacity of the disquisition on the evil of drinking. But he shut us up." JACKSON UNDER FIRE General McLaws, of the Confederate service, relates this incident : "When the lines were reformed along the crest of the small elevation, which had been won from the enemy, a tremendous cannonade, hurling shot and shell and grape and canister at us from a very short range, was then going on. The enemy, hav- ing failed in the direct charge to drive our troops, were at- tempting to make us give way by this means. General Jack- son then came to where I was sitting on my horse, and we stood, he also on horseback, facing each other; and although from our standpoint we could not see the batteries of the enemy, yet it seemed as if our position was known to them, for while there ten or more shells were burst over our heads, and the sound of the shrapnel shot could be heard as it crashed through the branches of a tree not over five steps beyond us. One shell passed between General Jackson and myself, and one struck a courier and, I think, broke his leg, not ten feet from us, and fell between our horses. General Jackson looked at it and so did I, but it did not explode. General Jackson then remarked, 'The enemy, it seems, are getting our range/ and rode away, much to my gratification." JOSEPH JEFFERSON THE GIRL WHO SENT HIM HOME T Palm Beach, where stylish dressing is customary^ a A' friend of Joseph Jefferson, the veteran actor, was joking him about his bravado in remaining faithful to a rather dilapi- 314 Capitai. Stories About Famous Americans ■dated brown coat which he was in the habit of wearing in the morning. "This coat and I are old friends," said Mr. Jefferson. "I know that it shows signs of wear and tear of long life, but I don't have to discard it down here, because everybody knows me. But in a big city, where one is apt to be judged by his appearance and treated accordingly, I admit that it is an ex- cellent plan to exercise care in the matter of clothing. In New York, one winter evening, just after it had become dark, I had this truth rather rubbed in. I had paused near- the entrance of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, where I was standing to wait for my son, who had stopped for a moment in a near-by shop. I sup- pose I did present a somewhat touching spectacle. I had on a soft, black hat, my overcoat was buttoned tightly around my throat, and my shoulders were hunched up, as if with cold. I remember that I was standing in a shadow, and I had a bundle of newspapers under my arm. "A young woman passed, glanced at me, hesitated, went on for a few steps, and then stopped and came back. " 'I should think you would be very cold standing here,' 5he remarked, fumbling with her purse. " 'It is a little cool,' I answered. " 'Now, I tell you what I want you to do,' she exclaimed, brightly, when she had found a coin; 'I want you to go right home and get warm. I think you would better have a cup of coffee before you go. I will take all your papers.' " 'I, — I beg pardon,' I stammered, 'I would like to oblige you, but, you see, I have just bought these papers and havn't read them yet.' '"She discovered her mistake instantly, and put a world of mortification into her exclamation, 'Oh, I do hope you will pardon my stupidity !' I assured her that I did not regard it as stupidity, but as remarkable kindness of heart. I smiled, and she laughed and went on. Joseph Jefferson 315 " 'It had been very embarrassing for her, and then and there I made a resolution to keep 'spruced up' a Httle better." A SHERIFF WHO KNEW HIS BUSINESS "One of the many laughable incidents of a more or less re- cent tour in the West," said dear old "Joe" Jefferson, "took place at Gray's End, Missouri. You probably don't know the place, and couldn't find it on the map. All the same, the people thereabout are very good friends of mine, and, what is more, invariably make an eminently respectable showing at the box-office, which increases my regard for them. Now, the opera house at the 'End' began life as a big barn. As is the custom in that section of the State, the building is raised on pillars, some three or four feet. This, in its barny days, was to prevent its contents from being harmed during the annual spring overflow of the adjacent river. Well, on the occasion of which I speak, we reached the town early in the day. Illness had depleted the ranks of my 'supers,' and I found that I needed at least half a dozen more men in the Catskill scene of Rip Van Winkle. But I couldn't get any of the local talent to help me. They either wanted to see the show from the front, or were shy of making a professional dehut. Finally, I appealed to the Sherifif of the county, a very excellent per- son, who, I verily believe, slept with a small arsenal buckled around him. 'You shall have all the boys you want,' said he, 'or, — ' I don't know what the 'or' implied, but I do know that, an hour or so later, he appeared with several strapping young fellows, on whom he kept a strenuous eye. He also ofifered to himself become one of 'Hendrick Hudson's' ghostly crew, which suggestion I gladly accepted. The curtain finally rose, and my volunteer aids acquitted themselves nobly. It had been with some difficulty that I had persuaded the Sheriff to doff his guns, but he finally consented to do so, with the proviso that they were to be kept handy in the wings. All went swim- 3i6 Capital Storiks About Famous Americans ingly until 'Rip's' return home after his long sleep. In the midst of one of the most pathetic situations in this scene, there came, from beneath the theatre, the strident squeals of razor- back hogs, fighting for a choice morsel. The audience tittered. I continued, but then was heard a volleying chorus of grunts, squeals, screams, that told of a general engagement in the space beneath the floor. The Sheriff, who was standing at the wings, hissed, in a stage whisper : 'All right, Mr. Jefferson, I'll make the pesky critters quit.' He grabbed his pistols and disappeared. A few seconds later, there came a muffled bang! bang! bang! followed by the agonized howls of the wounded pigs. I stopped. I just had to. Fortunately, the spectators did not laugh. It was a familiar sound to them, and they remained impassive. The Sheriff reappeared, and then the play ran its course without further interruption. We had fresh pork chops for breakfast next day, but I'll never forget that night." THE OLD MAN'S MONOLOGUE There was a benefit performance in New York for a hos- pital, not long ago, and Joseph Jefferson, the veteran actor, volunteered. His part v.'as to make a short speech telling how the funds realized were to be applied. Two song-and-dance girls came from their dressing-room. They stopped to await their call. One of them thought she would see what was going on and peeked out on the stage. "Who's on now?" her companion asked. "Oh," said the investigator, "it's an old man doing a mono- logue, and say ! he's something fierce. He's been on ten min- utes already and hasn't had a laugh." WHEN JEFFERSON WAS ARRESTED Whenever Jefferson visits New Orleans, he is the guest of a secret order whose members are celebrated for their "hospita- ble" treatment of visitors. On one of these occasions two Joseph Jefferson 317 leading members of the society were appointed policemen to conduct the guests to the platform. It was about midnight when the chairman thundered out : "Let the police arrest Joe Jefferson and bring him before the chair !" The roof nearly fell in with the applause as Jefferson was hustled up the main aisle of the hall to the stage. After bowing to the audience, he turned to the chairman and asked : "What am I arrested for, Mr. Chairman ?" "For discharging firearms in the Catskill Mountains and compassing the death of your dog Schneider," said the chair- man. The house again shook with applause when Jeft'erson re- joined : "Mr. Chairman, you must at least concede that," pointing to the audience, "the jurymen are with me." "I don't know," returned the chairman. "A duffer like you that has packed so many houses may have packed the jury." THE SPELL COMING ON AGAIN A number of years ago Jeft'erson played a one-night en- gagement in a small Indiana town, appearing in his favorite character. In the hotel at which he stopped was an Irishman recently "landed," who acted as porter and general assistant. Judged by the deep and serious interest which he took in the house, he might have been clerk, lessee and proprietor, com- bined into one. At about six o'clock in the morning Jefferson was startled by a violent thumping on his door. When he struggled into consciousness and realized that he had left no "call" order at the office, he was indignant. But his sleep was spoiled for that morning, so he rose, and soon after appeared before the clerk. "See here," he demanded of that individual, "why was I called at this unearthlv hour?" 318 Capital Storie:s About Famous Americans "I don't know, sir," answered the clerk. "I'll ask Mike." The Irishman was summoned. Said the clerk: "Mike, there was no call for Mr. Jefferson. Why did you disturb him ?" Taking the clerk by the lapel of the coat, the Hibernian led him to one side, and said in a mysterious whisper: "He was snoring like a horse, sor, and Oi'd heard the boys say as how he were onct afther shlaping for twenty years, so Oi sez to me- self, sez I : 'Mike, it's coming onto him again, and it's yer duty to get the craythur out of your house at once." "DATS THE MAN". Mr. Jefferson once related the following : "In the village of Catskill there is a Rip Van Winkle Club. The society did me the honor to invite me to act the character in their town. I accepted, and when I arrived was met by the presi- dent and other members of the club, among whom was young Nicholas Vedder, who claimed to be a lineal descendant of the original 'old Nick.' I was taking a cup of tea at the table in the hotel, when I was attracted to the colored waiter, who was giving a detailed account of the legend of the Catskill Moun- tains to one of the boarders who sat nearly opposite me. " 'Yes, sah," said the waiter, 'Rip went up into de moun- tains, slep' for twenty years, and when he come back here in dis bery town his own folks didn't know him.' " 'Why,' said the listener, 'you don't believe the story's true ?' " 'True? Ob course it is! Why,' pointing at me, 'dat's de man.' "When I got to the theatre," said Jefferson, "I scarcely could get in, the crowd was so great about the door. In the scene in the last act, when Rip inquires of the innkeeper, 'Is this the village of Falling Water?' I altered the text and sub- stituted the correct name, 'Is this the village of Catskill ?' Thomas Jefferson 319 "The name of the village seemed to bring home the scene to every man, woman and child that was looking at it. From that time on the interest was at its full tension. I never had seen an audience so struck with the play. "There was a reception held at the club after the play, and the president was so nervous that he introuduced me as Washington Irving." THOMAS JEFFERSON HIS LOVE STORY THOMAS JEFFERSON was an ardent and sentimental lover, we are told by William Eleroy Curtis, who also says that the great man's egotism appeared in his love affairs in a most amusing way. He adored several young women from time to time ; and to one of them, — Belinda, — when about twenty, he confessed his love, but explained that he could not positively engage himself to marry anyone for the present be- cause it would interfere with his studies and his plans for a trip to Europe ; he intimated that it might be profitable for her to await his pleasure and convenience as he expected sooner or later to renew his suit openly. We do not know what Belinda said in reply to this extraordinary proposition, but she evidently did not estimate the value of his affections so highly, for she promptly married another. Sometimes he re- fers to her in his diaries and letters as Bee-lin-day, or as Campan-in-die (bell in day). Then he writes her name in Greek, and often spells it backward. — Adnileb. He took her marriage rather hard. "Last night," he writes one of his con- fidantes, "as merry, as agreeable a company and dancing with Belinda in the Appolla could make me, I never thought the suc- ceeding sun would have seen me so wretched as I am." He Avas soon consoled by the attractions of a young woman named Rebecca Burwell, — some think that she and Belinda 320 Capital Stories About Famous Americans are the same person. He writes to one John Page, one of his classmates, saying: "Write me everything that happened at the wedding. Was she (Rebecca Burwell) there? Because, if she was, I ought to be censured for not being there too. If there is any news stirring in the town or country, such as deaths, courtships or marriages in the circle of my acquaint- ance, let me know it." Again he writes : "What have you done since I saw you ? What can I do but ask you the news of the world ? How did Nancy look when you danced with her at Southall's ? How did you any glimmering of hope? How does R. B. (Rebecca Bur- well) do? Had I better stay here and do nothing or go down and do less ? Inclination tells me to go, receive my sentence and be no longer in suspense, but reason says if you go, and if your attempt proves unsuccessful you will be ten times more wretched than before ;" and to another friend : "Dear Will, I have thought of the cleverest plan of life that can be imagined. You exchange your land for Edgehill and I mine for Fairfields. You marry S. P. and I marry R. B., join and get a pole chair, and a keen pair of horses, practice law in the same court and drive about to all the dames in the country together. How do you like it?" He built a "full-rigged flat," as he termed it, on the river, and named it "The Rebecca," but she jilted him before it was launched, and there is no further reference to the enterprise. Rebecca Burwell married Jacquelin Ambler, who afterwards became State Treasurer and was called "The Aristides of Vir- ginia," because he was just; and John Alarshall, Chief Justice of the United States, married their daughter. It is a curious coincidence that his brother, Edward Ambler, married Miss Cary, who rejected Washington. It came within the power of Jefferson to do friendly ser- vice for the husband of his former sweetheart on several occa- sions, and when her father, who at the time of her marriage Thomas Jefferson 321 was one of the richest and proudest men in Virginia, became impoverished in his old age, it is said that Jefferson secured for him an appointment as tipstaff in one of the courts. There were others also. Patsy Dandridge, Betsy Page, and two or three other young ladies are frequently referred to in his youthful correspondence as objects of admiration, but there is no evidence that they were more than friends. Miss Molly Elliott Seawell says that a fly-leaf of an old book in the library of the late Boswell Seawell, of Gloucester County, Virginia, contains the following inscription said to be in the handwriting of Jefferson : "Jane Nelson is a neat girl Betsy Page is a sweet girl Rebecca Burwell is * * * and then follow two lines, which, for Jefferson, are extremely "sulphurous," and much better omitted and forgotten. Among Jefferson's associates at the Williamsburg bar was John Wayles, a lawyer of large practice who had a fine estate on the edge of the town called "The Forest," a dozen planta- tions, large tracts of wild land in various parts of the colony, and over four hundred slaves. His widowed daughter, Martha Skelton, a famous beauty, fond of admiration and music, lived with him, and Jefferson was in the habit of taking his violin out to "The Forest'' of an evening to play duets with her. Their acquaintance extended over three or four years. She was a widow in 1768. He first mentions his love for her in 1770, and they were married on New Year's Day, 1772. He left a number of letters concerning his courtship of the pretty widow with the pretty fortune which indicate that he was scarcely off with an old love before he was on with the new, and had considerable vexation in adjusting his conduct to the satisfaction of his own conscience. The story goes that he was spurred into an engagement with ]\Iartha Skelton by the 122 Capital Stories About Famous Americans rivalry of two friends, with whom he came to an understand- ing that they should draw cuts for the first proposal. If the first were rejected, he was to retire and give the next a chance, and if number two were not accepted, the third was at liberty to propose. Jefi'erson drew number one, and started for the Wayles plantation. His rivals followed him and hung over the hedge listening to the music as he played duets with his inamorata. They concluded from the joyful tones of his in- strument that his wooing was successful, and walked home disconsolate. The license-bond for the marriage required by the laws of Virginia was written in Jeiiferson's own hand, and is signed by him with Francis Eppes, a neighbor, whose son afterwards married Jefferson's daughter, as surety. He must have been a little nervous or absent-minded at the time, for he describes his bride as "a spinster." Somebody corrected the mistake by running a pen through "spinster" and writing the word "widow" over it; but Jefferson was not so agitated that he neglected to set down in his account book every item of ex- penditure in connection with his wedding. We find that he "loaned Mrs. Skelton ten shillings" two days before the cere- mony, paid forty shillings for the marriage license ; gave five pounds to the Reverend Mr. Coutts, the minister who married them ; and then borrowed twenty shillings from the parson before the close of the day. He gave ten shillings to the fiddler and five shillings to each of the servants of the house- hold. STORY OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE John Adams has left us the most interesting and probably the most accurate account of the proceedings of the committee. There were several meetings, he said, in which the subject was generally discussed and various propositions suggested which Jefferson was asked "to clothe in proper dress." "Mr. Jeffer- Thomas Jefferson 323 son desired me to make the draught," Adams says. ''This I decHned and gave several reasons for declining. First, that he was a Virginian and I a Massachiisettensian, and it was the policy to place Virginia at the head of everything. 2. He was a Southern man and I a Northern one. 3. I had been so un- popular and obnoxious for my early and continual zeal in promoting the measure that any draught of mine would under- go more criticism and scrutiny in Congress than one of his composition, and 4, and lastly, there would be reason enough if there were no other, I had a great opinion of the elegance of his pen and none at all of my own," Jefferson first submitted his manuscript to Adams and Franklin, who suggested some verbal changes of no import- ance. "I was delighted with its high tone," continues Adams, "and the flights of oratory in which it abounded, especially that concerning negro slavery, which though I knew his South- ern brethren would never suffer to pass in Congress, I never would opix)se. There are other clauses which I would not have inserted, if I had drawn it up, particularly that which called the King a tyrant. I thought this too personal, for I never believed George to be a tyrant in disposition or nature. We reported to the committee of five. It was read and I do not remember that Franklin or Sherman criticised any- thing. Congress was impatient and the instrument was re- ported in Jeft'erson's hand writing as he originally drew it. Congress cut off about a quarter of it as I expected they would, but they obliterated some of the best of it. Jefferson was not pleased with Adams' version, and in 1823, forty-seven years after the fact, gave his own as follows : "The committee of five met ; no such things as a sub-com- mittee was proposed, but they unanimously pressed on myself alone to undertake the draft. I consented ; I drew it ; but be- fore I reported it to the committee, I communicated it sepa- rately to Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams, requesting their cor- 324 CapwaIv Stories About Famous Americans rection, because they were the two members of whose judg- ments and amendments 1 wished most to have the benefit, be- fore presenting it to the committee; and you have seen the original paper now in my hands, with the corrections of Dr. FrankHn and Mr. Adams, interlined in their own handwritings. Their alterations were two or three only, and merely verbal. I then wrote a fair copy, reported it to the committee, and from them, unaltered to Congress. Pickering's observations, and Adams' in addition, 'that it contained no new ideas, that it is a commonplace compilation, its sentiments hackneyed in Con- gress for two years before, and its essence contained in Otis' pamphelt,' may all be true. Of that I am not to be the judge. Richard Henry Lee charged it as copied from Locke's Treatise on Civil Government. Otis' pamphlet I never saw, and whether I have gathered my ideas from reading or reflection, I do not know. I know only that I turned to neither book nor pamphlet while writing it. I did not consider it as any part of my charge to invent new ideas altogether, and to oflfer no sentiment which had ever been expressed before. "This, however, I will say for Mr. Adams, that he sup- ported the Declaration with zeal and ability, fighting fearlessly for every word of it. As for myself, I thought it a duty to be, on that occasion, a passive auditor of the opinions of others, more impartial judges than I could be, of its merits or demerits. During the debate I was sitting by Dr. Franklin and he observed that I was rising a little under the acrimonious criti- cisms of some of its parts ; and it was on that occasion, that by way of comfort, he told me the story of John Thompson, the hatter, and his new sign. "At the time of writing the Declaration, I lodged in a house of a Mr. Graflf, a new brick house, three stories high, of which I rented the second floor, consisting of a parlor and bed- room, ready furnished. In that parlor I wrote habitually, and in it wrote this paper particularly. So far I state from written Thomas Jef'i'Erson 325 proofs in my possession. The proprietor, Graaf, was a young- man, son of a German, and then newly married. I think he was a bricklayer, and that his house was on the south side of Market Street, probably between Seventh and Eighth Streets, •and if not the only house on that part of the street, I am sure there were few others near it." There has long been a dispute as to the house in which the Declaration was written, four buildings in the city of Philadel- phia claiming the honor, but the testimony of Jefferson as above given has been accepted as final, and a tablet now marks the spot, which is occupied by a banking building at the cor- ner of Seventh and Market Streets. As Adams and Jefferson agree, the committee suggested only a few unimportant verbal changes, but the three days' dis- cussion that followed in the House was critical and caustic, causing Jefferson's sensative nature intense mortification, although any critic who compares the original draft and that which was finally adopted must admit that the document was considerably improved. Congress suppressed eighteen sen- tences, amended ten, and added six. There were also some verbal alterations ; for example, where Jefferson said that men "are endowed with inherent and inalienable rights," Congress struck out "inherent." A clause reading "to prove this let the facts be submitted to a candid world, for the truth of which we pledge a faith yet unsullied by falsehood" was stricken out. The paragraph denouncing slavery, which Jefferson had pre- pared with so much eloquence, and which pleased Adams, was omitted because a majority of the members thought it incon- sistent to hold George III. responsible for a slave-trade carried on by New England ship-masters for the benefit of the cotton and tobacco planters of the South. Jefferson sat silent though the entire debate, so conscious of his weakness in oratory that he did not allow himself to defend the pet passages in his momentous document. The responsi- 3-X> CAinTAU SiVKiKs Ar«OLV Famols Ami;ku\\ns bility of presenting and sustaining the reiK^tt of the conunittee was ably assunuxi by John Ad:uns. whom Jefferson gratefully called "the Colossus" of that great debate. There is no tell- ing how much the discussion might have been prolonge<.i. but for the interposition of a swanu of hungry tlies. which came in through the o^xni windows from a livery stable in the neighborhood, and stung the leg^s of the honorable members through their silk stocking's. Jefferson, who usually had very little sense of humor, used to tell the story with great amusement, and is authority for the statement that the annoy- ance became at length so great that a vote was demanded be- fore the document had been discussed by many gentlemen who desired to speak upon it. There has always been a controversy as to the manner in which the Declaration was signed, but we know from his own testimony that it was adopted late on Thursday afternoon. July 4th, and was held open for sigiiatures imtil late in the follow- ing Augiisr. because some of the deleg-ates thought it best to await explicit instructions from tlieir States. Although they fully realized the solemnity and importance of their proceevlings. the honorable delegiites indulged in a few jests, and the best of them have sur\-ived the century. \Mien John Hancock affixed his magnificent signature, he remarked. "There. John Bull can read my name without his spectacles." WTien Hancock urged tlie members of the Congress to hang together. Franklin retorteii: "Yes. we must hang together or we shall all hang sepa- rately." Benjamin Harrison, who is described by John Adams as *'a luxurious, heavy gentleman." remarked to Elbridge Gerry, who was very small of stature : "\\~lien the hanging comes I shall have the advantage, for }-ou will be kicking in the air when it is all over with me." In one of the corridors of the Capitol at Washington is a Thomas Jefpetjsok 7/^-7 ::jiix\i\t statue of John Yiixxcfjck, v/hich bears upon it= pedestal the following inscription: "He wrote hi-; name where all nations should behold it and all time should not efface it" On the Monday following^, at noon, the Declaration was publicly read for the first time in Independence Square, Phila- delphia, from a platform erected by David Rittenhouse for the purpose of observing the transit of \'enus. Captain John Hopkins, the young commander of the first armed brig of the na^y of the new nation, was the reader, and his stentorian voice carried the words to all the multitude who had assembled to bear it. JEFFERSONIAN SIMPLiOTY Jefferson's grandson says that while President, Thomas Jefferson was once returning on horseback from Charlottes- ville to Monticello with a party of gentlemen he had invited to dinner, when, on reaching a stream where there was no bridge, a stranger asked to be taken up on his horse behind him. After Jefferson had put the stranger down on dn.- land and ridden on, one of the guests inquired why he had not asked one of the others to carry him over. He replied : '"From their looks I did not like to ask them ; but the old gentleman looked as if he would do it, so I asked him." He was much surprised to hear that he had ridden behind the President of the United States. According to one of the hackneyed anecdotes of his Presi- dency-, '*he was riding along a highway leading to Washing- ton one day, when he overtook a man walking towards the cit;/. As vras his habit, Jefferson drew up his horse and touched his 328 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans hat to the pedestrian. The man returned his sahitation, and began a conversation, not knowing who he was. He at once entered upon the subject of poHtics, — as was the habit of the day, — and began to abuse the President. Jefferson's first im- pulse was to ride on, but, amused at his own situation, asked the man if he knew the President personally. 'No,' was the re- ply, 'nor do I wish to.' *' 'But do you think it fair,' suggested Jefferson, 'to re- peat such stories about a man whom you dare not face ?' " 'I will never shrink from meeting Mr. Jefferson should he ever come my way,' replied the stranger, who proved to be a country merchant of high standing from Kentucky. " 'Will you go to his house to-morrow at ten o'clock and be introduced to him, if I promise to meet you there at that hour?' asked Jefferson eagerly. " 'Yes, I will,' said the man, after a moment's thought. "With a half-suppressed smile, and excusing himself from further conversation, the President touched his hat and rode on. Hardly had he disappeared from sight before a suspicion of the truth, which he soon verified, flashed through the strang- er's mind. However, at the appointed hour the next day, 'Mr. Jefferson's yesterday's companion,' was announced, and entered the President's office. His situation was embarrassing, but with a gentlemanly bearing, though with some confusion, he began, 'I have called to apologize for having said to a stranger — " 'Hard things of an imaginary being, who is no relation of mine,' interrupted Mr. Jefferson, as he gave him his hand, while his countenance was radiant with a smile of mingled good- nature and amusement. "The Kentuckian once more began his apologies which Jeft'erson good-naturedly laughed off, and, changing the sub- ject, soon captivated his guest by one of his most delightful strains of conversation." Tom L. Johnson 329 TOM L. JOHNSON FROM NEWSBOY TO MAYOR T>DBERT MACKAY gives this striking little sketch of how "^^ Tom L. Johnson, the famous millionaire Ma>'or of Cleveland climbed from newsboy through college to the heights of success : "At the close of the Civil War a discharged Confederate soldier and his wife and family, trudged wearily over the foothills of Kentucky, from their little homestead in the village of Georgetown to Staunton, \'irginia, for protection. The family consisted of two boys, bright cheery fellows. One was tired and sore from the continued tramp over the hard roadways, but the other was helping him as best he could, and urging him on to the place where rest awaited them. At the same time, he was encouraging his down-hearted father and mother with kind words. 'Don't mind, pa,' he said : 'I kin sell papers, an' will give you all I make.' "When Tom Johnson told his father that he would sell papers to help him along, he was just eleven years old. In the five weeks immediately following Lee's surrender, he proved that he had the head of a financier. In that period, he earned eighty-eight dollars. There was great thirst for news in Staunton, but once a day, only, was it in communication with the outside world, and then it was by railroad. Tom saw his chance for a monopoly in papers, and straightway cornered the market. He made the friendship of the conductor of Staun- ton's daily train, who turned over to him all the papers. For five weeks he held this monopoly, selling daily papers for fif- teen cents each. "Three years later, he went to work in a rolling mill in Louisville, at a small salary. In the same office with him was another boy, Arthur Moxam, who, later, became his business partner. For economical reasons, the managers decided that 330 Capital Stories About Famous Americans one of the boys had to go. When it came to a choice, Moxam was retained, and Johnson was turned out to begin over again, "Louisville had a ramshackle, broken-down street railway, the cars of which were drawn by mules, when Tom Johnson applied there for work. Recently, he sold his interest in that railway for a handsome profit, after being, for fifteen years, its largest stockholder, and chiefly instrumental in changing it from mule to electric power. "After young Johnson had been connected with the railway a few weeks, its president, Biderman du Pont, noticed him picking up some pieces of scrap iron and depositing them in a barrel that stood near the entrance to the car shops. " 'What are you doing that for ?' asked Mr. Du Pont, rather sternly. " 'Why, sir,' said Tom, a little embarrassed, 'there is no use wasting these pieces of iron. The company may want to have them melted over, some day.' "Mr. Du Pont went into his office and thought. He sent for Tom, and said: 'I just think I have some work for a young man like you. How would you like to stay in the office and have your salary raised five dollars a week ?' "Then Tom L. Johnson went up like a rocket; but, unlike many rockets, he stayed up. He quickly rose from position to position, — from office boy to chief cashier; and, on his seven- teenth birthday, he was made superintendent of the road. Then he began a system that improved the road and put it on a paying basis. He improved the passenger accommodations and reduced the expenses. Three years as superintendent of this road made him long for wider fields of action. He told his employers that his scope was too limited. Mr. Du Pont had every confidence in his protege. He knew that the ambi- tious young man would try to succeed honestly. "One morning, the office boy told Mr. Johnson that Mr. Du Pont wanted to see him. Johnson entered the president's Paul Jones 331 private office, little dreaming of all that was in store for him. Without rising from his chair, Mr. Du Pont handed his youth- ful superintendent a certified check for thirty thousand dollars, with the information that he was honorably discharged, and could try his fortune in the open mart. " 'But the security?' queried Tom Johnson. " 'Your word is enough for me,' said Mr. Du Pont. 'If you live, I know you'll pay it back ; if you die, why, I'll be out just so much. But you'll live, Tom; and now, go in and win.' "Later Tom Johnson had the pleasure of associating two of Mr. Du Pont's sons in some of his many business ventures. With the generous loan, the young financier organized a tri- umvirate for the purchase of the street railways in Indian- apolis, making the first step in the course that enabled him to absorb the street-car lines of Cleveland, Detroit, St. Louis, and other cities. "Mr. Johnson has no business interests, to-day. He is many times a millionaire, and will devote his life to advocating those principles of economics which he honestly believes to be of the greatest possible importance to the public good." PAUL JONES A MEMORABLE SEA FIGHT EDWARD S. ELLIS, in his book entitled "Dewey and other Naval Commanders," relates the wonderful ex- ploit of Captain Paul Jones in a sea fight which will be forever memorable in American history : "It was Sept. 23rd. 1779. It was near noon, while the American squadron was chasing a British brigantine and was approaching Flamborough Head from the south, that a large sail was discovered, rounding that promontory. Another and another followed. The astonished Americans counted them until the number had mounted up to forty-two. 2,2,2 CapitaIv Stories About Famous Ame:ricans "It was a startling sight, for if these vessels were ships of war nothing could save the American squadron or, if most of them were merchantmen, under a strong escort, the peril of Captain Jones and his crews would be almost as great. The Commander' studied the fleet through his glass, allowing it to come closer and closer and holding himself ready to flee, should it be necessary to do so. Finally, after a long scrutiny, his face lit up with exultation. There were only two war vessels in the fleet, and he gave the signal for immediate pursuit, "The Scrapis, commanded by Captain Pearson, knew that he was confronted by the redoubtable Paul Jones, and he wel- comed a fight with him, for the British Captain was one of the bravest of men. He signalled for the merchantmen to scat- ter, and they did so with the utmost haste, while the frigate with her consort, the Countess of Scarborough, boldly ad- vanced to engage the American squadron. "It was at this critical moment that the Captain of the Alliance once more showed his insubordination. He refused to obey Jones' signal to fall to the rear of the Bonhomme Rich- ard and the Pallas for a time was equally disobedient. Soon, however, she changed her conduct and gallantly advanced to engage the Countess of Scarborough. Captain Lindais, how- ever, sullenly kept out of the battle, and, as we shall presently learn, did even worse than that. "Captain Pearson, of the Scrapis, waited until his convoy was beyond danger, when he tacked inshore. Fearing he would get away, Jones ran between him and the land. It was now growing dark, and it was hard for the American commander to follow the movements of his enemy. But the latter was not flee- ing, and, although dimly visible to each other, the two antag- onists began cautiously approaching, both on the alert for any advantage that might present itself. Nothing but the rippling of water made by the vessels broke the profound, expectant hush that rested upon both. Paul Jones 333 "Suddenly from the gloom came the voice of the Captain of the Serapis: " 'What ship is that?' "Jones wished to get nearer before opening fire and re- plied : "'I do not understand you; speak louder.' " 'What ship is that?' repeated the other in a louder voice through his trumpet. 'Answer or I shall fire into you.' "Jones made no reply, knowing that it was useless, but con- tinued to edge near his antagonist. A minute later both ships discharged a broadside at the same moment, the gloom being lit up by spouts of crimson flame, while the thunder 'shook the mighty deep' and the sulphurous smoke rolled slowly upward and drifted through the rigging. Then again came a minute or so of impressive stillness, while the crews of both looked around to learn the results of the awful tempest of round shot, grape and canister of which they had been the targets. "Sad work, indeed, had been done, for from each vessel rose the cries of the wounded and dying — cries that inspired their companions to revenge and caused them to hasten the reload- ing and firing of the cannon. But unfortunately the Bonhomme Richard suffered from her own guns as well as from those of the enemy. On the lower gun deck was an improvised battery of six eighteen pounders, two of which burst, killing most of the men that worked there, and tearing away the deck above them. The remainder of the men refused to serve the other guns, and thus the Bonhomme Richard was deprived of the services of her heaviest battery in addition to the serious loss in dead and wounded. "Captain Jones forged ahead, crossed his enemy's bows while the latter came up on his port quarter. They were with- in a biscuit's toss of each other, wrapped in dense smoke, lit up by the jets of flame which were continuous. Mingled with the teriffic booming was the spitely rattle of musketry from 334 Capital Stories About Famous Americans the tops and yells and cries of the wounded. The decks of the Bonhomme Richard were sHppery with blood which increased until the men, as they ran to and fro, splashed in it, like child- ren playing in a mud puddle, and it was the same on the Scrapis. It found its outlet through the scruppers and crim- soned the deep blue of the ocean. "Some of the shots from the Scrapis pierced the Bonhomme Richard under the water line, causing her to leak badly. De- prived of his 1 8-pound guns by reason of the accident men- tioned, Jones was forced to rely upon his 12-pounders. They were worked for all that was in them, but the whole fourteen were silenced in little more than half an hour and seven of the quarter deck and forcastle guns were dismounted. She was left with three 9-pounders, which being loaded and aimed under the eye of Jones himself, did frightful execution. "An hour had passed and the men were fighting furiously, when the full moon appeared above the horizon and lit up the fearful scene. The Scrapis attempted to cross the bow of the Bonhomme Richard, but miscalculated and the Bonhomme Richard shoved her bowsprit over the other's stern. In the lull that followed, when each expected his antagonist to board, Captain Pearson called out: " 'Have you struck ?' " 'Struck ! shouted back Jones ; 'I am just beginning to fight!" "The Scrapis made another effort to get into position to rake the American, but in the blinding smoke she ran her jibboom afoul of the starboard mizzen shrouds of the Bon- homme Richard. Captain Jones himself lashed the spar to the rigging, knowing that his only chance was in fighting at close quarters, but the swaying of the ships broke them apart. At that instant, however, the spare anchor of the Scrapis caught on the American's quarter and held the two vessels, as may be said, locked in each other's arms. Paul Jones 335 "They were so close, indeed, that the English gunners could not raise the lower port lids, and they blew them off by firing their cannon through them. The men on each ship in loading were forced to push their rammers into the ports of the other vessel. The Bonhomme Richard was set on fire by burning wads, but the flames were speedily extinguished, "The explosion of the American's lower guns at the open- ing of the battle had made her helpless against the correspond- ing battery of the enemy, which pounded away until a huge, yawning gap was opened. Some of the shots went clean through the battered hull and splashed into the water, hun- dreds of feet distant. The disadvantage was more than offset by the concentration of the Americans on the upper deck and in the rigging. The fire of the Bonhomme Richard became so terrible that every officer and man of the enemy kept out of sight, observing which an American seaman crawled out on the main yard, carrying a bucket of hand grenades which he threw wherever he saw a man. He did this with such excel- lent aim that he dropped one through the main hatchway into the gun room. It fell into a heap of powder and produced an explosion that was awful beyond description, for it killed and wounded thirty-eight men and really decided the battle. — "At that moment, when it all seemed over, Captain Landais fired a broadside from the Alliance into the Bonhomme Richard. Captain Jones called to him in God's name to desist. But he cir- cled about the two ships, and fired again and again into his ally, killing and wounding a number of men and officers. It was believed that the Alliance had been captured by the enemy and had joined in the attack on the Bonhomme Richard which was so injured that she began slowly to sink. Having wrought this irreparable damage, the Alliance drew oft' and ceased her murderous work. "Jones incited his prisoners to desperate pumping by the re- port that the Serapis must soon go down and the only way to 336 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans save themselves from drowning was to keep the Bonhomme afloat. An officer ran to the quarter deck to haul down the colors, but they had been shot away. He then hurried to the tafif rail and shouted for quarter. Jones being in another part of the ship, did not hear him. The British commander mus- tered his men to board the American, but they were driven back by the firing from the rigging of the Bonhomme Richard. The condition of the latter could not have been more des- perate. She was so mangled that she began to settle, most of her guns had been disabled, a fire that could not be checked was already close to her magazine and several hundred prisoners were stealing here and there, waiting for a chance to strike from behind. "A deserter had slipped on board of the Serapis in the con- fusion and acquainted the Commander with the frightful plight of the American. After firing with renewed ardor for several minutes Captain Pearson again called to know whether Jones had surrendered. He shouted back a defiant negative, and, pistol in hand, ordered his men to the guns, threatening to kill the first one who refused. All knew his temper too well to hes- itate, and the battle was renewed with greater fury than before. Captain Pearson could not believe the condition of the Bon- homme Richard as bad as was represented by the deserter. He had lost a great many men, all his guns were silenced, and, being utterly unable to make any further defence, he hauled down his flag with his own hands. "The surrender was just in time to save the Bonhomme Richard, which was in danger of going down and blowing up. The united efforts of both crews were necessary to extinguish the flames before they reached the magazine. She was kept afloat through the night, while the wounded and prisoners were transferred to the Serapis. Then the battered and riddled old hulk plunged downward bow foremost into the depths of the German Ocean. I Paul Jones 337 "This battle has never been surpassed in heroism. Both sides fought with a bravery that has given the conflict a place by itself in naval annals, and it would always stand as a proof of the dauntless courage of the Anglo-Saxon beyond the reach of those of the Latin race. The Bonhomme Richard had forty- two guns and the Serapis fifty; the American crew numbered three hundred and four and the English three hundred and twenty. The killed on each side was forty-nine. The wounded on the Bonhomme Richard was one hundred and sixteen, and on the Serapis one hundred and seventeen. There being a dif- ference of only one in the total of killed and wounded. The battle lasted three hours and a half. "The Countess of Scarborough made a gallant resistance for two hours, when she was so crippled that she was com- pelled to surrender to the Frenchman. An investigation into the treacherous conduct of Captain Landais caused many to believe him insane, though others were convinced that he was inspired by intense jealousy of Captain Jones. He was dis- charged from both the French and American navy. Benjamin Franklin was among those who believed he deserved punish- ment for his perfidy. "The Serapis and Countess of Scarborough was refitted and given to France, while Captain Jones was placed in com- mand of the Alliance. He was loaded with honors in France, the King presented him with a gold sword, and when he sailed for the United States he gave another exhibition of his superb seamanship by eluding the blockaders that were waiting for him outside of Texel, running through the Straits of Dover and then defiantly standing down the English Channel in full view of more than one of the largest British fleets. He reached the United States in June, 1780, without mishap. "Congress gave Captain Jones a vote of thanks, and, had the war continued, no doubt he would have rendered more bril- Hant service for the country he loved so well, but before he 1 H 338 Capital Stories About Famous Americans could be given a fitting command hostilities ceased. He had won a world-wide reputation and accepted the appointment of Rear-Admiral in the Russian navy, but gained no oppor- tunity to display his marvelous prowess. He died in Paris in 1792. HELEN KELLER FEELING FOR THE LIGHT ELEN KELLER is in many respects the most remark- able woman in the world. Modern science, through the aid of loving personality has tunneled through the triple wall of the blind, deaf and dumb, and brought forth to the world a charming womanhood. In her marvellously interesting au- tobiography, entitled The Story of My Life, Miss Keller tells of the day when she was feeling for the light : The most important day I remember in all my life is the one on which my teacher, Anne Mansfield Sullivan, came to me. I am filled with wonder when I consider the immeasur- able contrast between the two lives which it connects. It was the third of March, 1887, three months before I was seven year old. On the afternoon of that eventful-day, I stood on the porch, dumb, expectant. I guessed vaguely, from my moth- er's signs, and from the hurrying to and fro in the house that something unusual was about to happen, so I went to the door, and waited on the steps. The afternoon sun penetrated the mass of honeysuckle that covered the porch, and fell on my up- turned face. My fingers lingered almost unconsciously on the familiar leaves and blossoms which had just come forth to greet the sweet Southern spring. I did not know what the future held of marvel or surprise to me. Anger and bitterness had preyed upon me continually for weeks, and a deep langor had succeeded this passionate struggle. FREDERICK FUNSTON ROBERT E. PEARY LEW. WALLACE WILLIAM F. CODY JOSEPH WHEELER Heilen Kei.i,er 341 Have you ever been at sea in a dense fog, when it seemed as if a tangible white darkness shut you in, as the great ship, tense and anxious, groped her way toward the shore with plummet and sounding line, and you waited with beating heart for something to happen ? I was like that ship before my edu- cation began, only I was without compass or sounding-line, and had no way of knowing how near the harbor was. "Light ! give me light !" was the wordless cry of my soul, and the light of love shone on me in that very hour. I felt approaching footsteps. I stretched out my hand as I supposed to my mother. Some one took it, and I was caught up and held close in the arms of her who had come to reveal all things to me, and, more than all things else, to love me. The morning after my teacher came she led me into her room and gave me a doll. The little blind children at the Perk- ins Institution had sent it and Laura Bridgman had dressed it ; but I did not know this till afterward. When I had played with it a little while. Miss Sullivan slowly spelled into my hand the word "d-o-1-1." I was at once interested in this finger play and tried to imitate it. When I finally succeeded in making the letters correctly I was flushed with childish pleasure and pride. Running down stairs to my mother I held up my hand and made the letters for doll. I did not know that I was spelling a word or even that words existed ; I was simply making my fingers go in monkey-like imitation. In the days that followed I learned to spell in this uncomprehending way a great many words, among them piti, hat, cup and a few verbs like sit, stand and zvalk. But my teacher had been with me several weeks before I understood that everything has a name. One day, when I was playing with my new doll, Miss Sulli- van put my big rag doll into my lap also, spelled "d-o-l-l" and tried to make me understand that "d-o-1-1" applied to both. Earlier in the day we had had a tussel over the words "m-u-g" and "w-a-t-e-r." Miss Sullivan tried to impress it upon me 342 Capital Stories About Famous Americans that "m-u-g" is iniig and that "w-a-t-e-r" is water, but I pre- sisted in confounding the two. In despair she had dropped the subject for the time, only to renew it at the first opportunity. I became impatient at her repeated attempts and, seizing the new doll, I dashed it upon the floor. I was keenly delighted when I felt the fragments of the broken doll at my feet. Neith- er sorrow nor regret followed my passionate outburst. I had not loved the doll. In the still, dark world in which I lived there was no strong sentiment or tenderness. I felt my teach- er sweep the fragments to one side of the hearth, and I had a sense of satisfaction that the cause of my discomfort was re- moved. She brought me my hat, and I knew I was going out into the warm sunshine. This thought, if a wordless sensa- tion may be called a thought, made me hop and skip with pleasure. We walked down the path to the well-house, attracted by the fragrance of the honeysuckle with which it was covered. Some one was drawing water and my teacher placed my hand under the spout. As the cool stream gushed over one hand she spelled into the other the word ivater, first slowly, then rapidly. I stood still, my whole attention fixed upon the mo- tions of her fingers. Suddenly I felt a misty consciousness as of something forgotten — a thrill of returning thought; and somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me. I knew then that "w-a-t-e-r" meant the wonderful cool some- thing that was flowing over my hand. That living word awak- ened my soul, gave it light, hope, joy, set it free! There were barriers still, it is true, but barriers that could in time be swept away. I left the well-house, eager to learn. Everything had a name, and each name gave birth to a new thought. As we re- turned to the house every object which I touched seemed to quiver with life. That was because I saw everything with the strange, new sight, that had come to me. On entering the Helen Keller 343 door, I remembered the doll I had broken. I felt my way to the hearth, and picked up the pieces. I tried vainly to put them together. Then my eyes filled with tears ; for I realized what I had done, and for the first time I felt repentance and sorrow. I learned a great many new words that day. I do not remember what they all were; but I do know that mother, father, sister, teacher, were among them — words that were to make the world blossom for me, "like Aaron's rod," with flow- ers. It would have been difficult to find a happier child than I was as I lay in my crib at the close of that eventful day and lived over the joys it had brought me, and for the first time longed for a new day to come. A LESSON IN TREE CLIMBING Helen Keller tells an interesting story of her first experi- ence in tree climbing. One day my teacher and I were re- turning from a long ramble. The morning had been fine, but it was growing warm and sultry when at last we turned our faces homeward. Two or three times we stopped to rest under a tree by the wayside. Our last halt was under a wild cherry tree a short distance from the house. The shade was grateful, and the tree was so easy to climb that with my teacher's as- sistance I was able to scramble to a seat in the branches. It was so cool up in the tree that Miss Sullivan proposed that we have our luncheon there. I promised to keep still while she went to the house to fetch it. Suddenly a change passed over the tree. All the sun's warmth left the air. I knew the sky was black, because all the heat, which meant light to me, had died out of the atmosphere. A strange odor came up from the earth. I knew it, it was the odor that always precedes a thunderstorm, and a nameless fear clutched at my heart. I felt absolutely alone, cut off from my friends and the firm earth. The immense, the unknown, enfolded me. I remained still and expectant; a chilling terror 344 Capital Stories About Famous Americans crept over me. I longed for my teacher's return ; but above all things I wanted to get down from that tree. There was a moment of sinister silence, then a multitudin- ous stirring of the leaves. A shiver ran through the tree, and the wind sent forth a blast that would have knocked me off had I not clung to the branch with might and main. The tree swayed and strained. The small twigs snapped and fell about me in showers. A wild impulse to jump seized me, but terror held me fast. I crouched down in the fork of the tree. The branches lashed about me. I felt the intermittent jarring that came now and then, as if something heavy had fallen and the shock had traveled up till it reached the limb I sat on. It worked my suspense up to the highest point, and just as I was thinking the tree and I should fall together, my teacher seized my hand and helped me down. I clung to her, trembling with joy to feel the earth under my feet once more. I had learned a new lesson — that nature "wages open war against her chil- dren, and under softest touch hides treacherous claws." After this experience it was a long time before I climbed another tree. The mere thought filled me with terror. It was the sweet allurement of the mimosa tree in full bloom that finally overcame my fears. One beautiful spring morning when I was alone in the summer-house, reading, I became aware of a wonderful subtle fragrance in the air. I started up and instinctively stretched out my hands. It seemed as if the spirit of spring had passed through the summer-house. "What is it?" I asked, and the next minute I recognized the odor of the mimosa blossoms. I felt my way to the end of the garden, knowing that the mimosa tree was near the fence, at the turn of the path. Yes, there it was, all quivering in the warm sunshine, its blossom-laden branches almost touch- ing the long grass. Was there ever anything so exquisitely beautiful in the world before! Its delicate blossoms shrank from the slightest earthly touch ; it seemed as if a tree of para- Hklen Kkller 345 dise had been transplanted on earth. I made my way through a shower of petals to the great trunk and for one minute stood irresokite ; then, putting my foot in the broad space between the forked branches, I pulled myself up into the tree. I had some difficulty in holding on, for the branches were very large, and the bark hurt my hands. But I had a delicious sense that I was doing something unusual and wonderful, so I kept on climbing higher and higher, until I reached the little seat which somebody had built there so long ago that it had grown part of the tree itself. I sat there for a long, long time, feeling like a fairy on a rosy cloud. After that I spent many happy hours in my tree of Paradise, thinking fair thoughts and dream- ing bright dreams. THE DAWN OF LOVE ]\Tiss Keller gives us this wonderfully interesting account of her first insight into the meaning of love: I remember the morning that I first asked the meaning of the word "love." This was before I knew many words. I had found a few early violets in the garden, and brought them to my teacher. She tried to kiss me ; but at that time, I did not like to have anyone kiss me except my mother. Miss Sullivan put her arm gently around me, and spelled into my hand, "I love Helen." "What is love?" I asked. She drew me closer to her and said, "It is here," pointing to my heart, whose beats I was conscious of for the first time. Her words puzzled me very much because I did not then un- derstand anything unless I touched it. I smelt the violets in her hand and asked, half in words, half in signs, a question which meant, "Is love the sweetness of flowers ?" "No," said my teacher. Again I thought. The warm sun was shining on us. 346 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans "Is this not love?" I asked, pointing in the direction from which the heat came, "Is this not love?" It seemed to me that there could be nothing more beautiful than the sun, whose warmth makes all things grow. But Miss Sullivan shook her head, and I was greatly puzzled and disap- pointed. I thought it strange that my teacher could not show me love. A day or two afterward I was stringing beads of different sizes in symmetrical groups — two large beads, three small ones, and so on. I had made many mistakes, and Miss Sulli- van had pointed them out again and again with gentle patience. Finally I noticed a very obvious error in the sequence and for an instant I concentrated my attention on the lesson and tried to think how I should have arranged the beads. Miss Sullivan touched my forehead and spelled with decided emphasis, "think." In a flash I knew that the word was the name of the pro- cess that was going on in my head. This was my first con- scious perception of an abstract idea. For a long time I was still — I was not thinking of the beads in my lap, but trying to find a meaning for "love" in the light of this new idea. The sun had been under a cloud all day, and there had been brief showers; but suddenly the sun broke forth in all its southern splendor. Again I asked my teacher, "Is this not love ?" "Love is something like the clouds that were in the sky be- fore the sun came out," she replied. Then in simpler words than these, which at that time I could not have understood, she ex- plained : "You cannot touch the clouds, you know ; but you feel the rain and know how glad the flowers and the thirsty earth are to have it after a hot day. You cannot touch love either ; but you feel the sweetness that it pours into everything. Without love you would not be happy or want to play." The beautiful truth burst upon my mind — I felt that there HEI.KN Kkller 347 were invisible lines stretched between my spirit and the spirits of others. THE JOY OF SPEECH There is something of almost infinite pathos and human charm about Miss Keller's story of her joy of first speak- ing to her loved ones at home after the art of speech had come to be her own : When I had made speech my own, I could not wait to go home. At last the happiest of happy moments arrived. I had made my homeward journey, talking constantly to Miss Sulli- van, not for the sake of talking, but determined to improve to the last minute. Almost before I knew it, the train stopped at the Tuscumbia station, and there on the platform stood the whole family. My eyes fill with tears now as I think how my mother pressed me close to her, speechless and trembling with delight, taking in every syllable that I spoke, while little Mil- dred seized my free hand and kissed it and danced, and my father expressed his pride and affection in a big silence. It was as if Isaiah's prophecy had been fulfilled in me, "The mountains and hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands !" FRIENDSHIP WITH BISHOP BROOKS AND DR. HOLMES Among many reminiscences of friendship with distin- guished people which Miss Keller's Story of My Life abounds, those which tells of her relations with Bishop Phillips Brooks and Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes are particularly beautiful. I count it one of the sweetest privileges of my life to have known and conversed with many men of genius. Only those who knew Bishop Brooks can appreciate the joy his friendship was to those who possesed it. As a child I loved to sit on his knee and clasp his great hand with one of mine, while Miss Sullivan spelled into the other his beautiful words about God 34^ Capital, Stories About Famous Americans and the spiritual world. I heard him with a child's wonder and delight. My spirit could not reach up to his, but he gave me a real sense of joy in life, and I never left him without carrying away a fine thought that grew in beauty and depth of meaning as I grew. Once, when I was puzzled to know why there were so many religions, he said : "There is one universal religion, Helen — the religion of love. Love your Heavenly Father with your whole heart and soul, love every child of God as much as you can, and remember that the possibilities of good are greater than the possibilities of evil ; and you have the key to Heaven." And his life was a happy illustra- tion of this great truth. In his noble soul love and widest knowledge were blended wnth faith that had become insight. He saw "God in all that liberates and lifts, In all that humbles, sweetens and consoles." Bishop Brooks taught me no special creed or dogma ; but he impressed upon my mind two great ideas — the father- hood of God and the brotherhood of man, and made me feel that these truths underlie all creeds and forms of worship. God is love, God is our Father, we are His children : therefore the darkest clouds will break, and though right be worsted, wrong shall not triumph. I am too happy in this world to think much about the future, except to remember that I have cherished friends await- ing me there in God's beautiful Somewhere. In spite of the lapse of years, they seem so close to me that I should not think it strange if at any moment they should clasp my hand and speak words of endearment as they used to before they went away. Since Bishop Brooks died I have read the Bible through; also some philosophical works on religion, among them Swe- denborg's Heaven and Hell and Drummond's Ascent of Man, Francis Scott Key 349 and I have found no creed or system more soul-satisfying than Bishop Brooks' creed of love, I knew Mr. Henry Drum- mond, and the memory of his strong, warm hand-clasp is like a benediction. He was the most sympathetic of companions. He knew so much and was so genial that it was impossible to feel dull in his presence. I remember well the first time I saw Oliver Wendell Holmes. He had invited Miss Sullivan and me to call on him one Sunday afternoon. It was early in the spring, just after I had learned to speak. We were shown to his library where we found him seated in a big armchair by an open fire which crackled on the hearth, thinking, he said, of other days. "And listening to the murmur of the River Charles," I suggested. "Yes," he replied, "the Charles has many dear associations for me." There was an odor of print and leather in the room which told me that it was full of books, and I stretched out my hand instinctively to find them. My fingers lighted on a beautiful volume of Tennyson's poems, and when Miss Sullivan told me what it was I began to recite : "Break, break, break On thy cold gray stones, O sea!" But I stopped suddenly. I felt tears on my hand. I had made my beloved poet weep, and I was greatly distressed. FRANCIS SCOTT KEY THE STORY OF THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER THE following story of the creation of the most popular of all American anthems, is taken from The Immortal Songs of Camp and Field, written by the editor of this volume : "No song could have had a more inspiring source of crea- tion than did this. Its author, Mr. Francis Scott Key, was a 350 Capital Stories About Famous Americans young lawyer who left Baltimore in September, 1814, while the war of 1812 was yet going on, and under a flag of truce visited the British fleet for the purpose of obtaining the release of a friend of his, a certain Doctor Beanes, who had been cap- tured at Marlborough. After his arrival at the fleet he was compelled to remain with it during the bombardment of Fort AIcHenry, as the officers were afraid to permit him to land lest he should disclose the purposes of the British. Mr. Key re- mained on deck all night, watching every shell from the moment it was fired until it fell, and listening vv'ith breathless interest to hear if an explosion followed. The firing suddenly ceased before day, but from the position of the ship he could not discover whether the fort had surrendered or the attack had been abandoned. He paced the deck for the remainder of the night in painful suspense, watching with intense anxiety for the return of day, and looking every few minutes at his watch to see how long he must wait for it ; and as soon as it dawned, and before it was light enough to see objects at a distance, his glass was turned to the fort, uncertain whether he should see there the Stars and Stripes or the flag of the enemy. At length the light came, and he saw that "our flag was still there;" and as the day advanced he discovered from the movement of the boats between the shore and the fleet that the English troops had been defeated, and that many wounded men were being carried to the ships. At length Mr. Key was informed that the attack on Baltimore had failed, and he with his friend was permitted to return home, while the hostile fleet sailed away, leaving the Star-Spangled Banner still waving from Fort McHenry. During the intense anxiety of waiting for dawn, Mr. Key had conceived the idea of the song and had written some lines, or brief notes that would aid him in calling them to mind, upon the back of a letter which he happened to have in his pocket. He finished the poem in the boat on his way to the Francis Scott Key 351 shore, and finally corrected it, leaving it as it now stands, at the hotel, on the night he reached Baltimore, and immediately after he arrived. The next morning he took it to Judge Nichol- son, the Chief Justice of Maryland, to ask him what he thought of it ; and he was so pleased with it that he immediately sent it to the printer, Benjamin Edes, and directed copies to be struck off in handbill form. In less than an hour after it was placed in the hands of the printer it was all over the town, and hailed with enthusiasm, and at once took its place in the national songs. The first newspaper that printed it was the American, of Baltimore. The tune, which has helped so much to make it famous, also had an interesting selection. Two brothers, Charles and Ferdinand Durang, were actors at the Holliday Street Theatre in Baltimore, but were also soldiers. A copy of Francis Key's poem came to them in camp ; it was read aloud to a company of the soldiers, among whom were the Durang brothers. All were inspired by the pathetic eloquence of the song and Ferdi- nand Durang at once put his wits to work to find a tune for it. Hunting up a volume of flute music which was in one of the tents, he impatiently whistled snatches of tune after tune, just as they caught his quick eye. One, called Anacreon in Heaven, struck his fancy and riveted his attention. Note after note fell from his puckered lips until, with a leap and shout, he exclaimed, "Boys, I've hit it !" And fitting the tune to the words, there rang out for the first time the song of The Star- Spangled Banner. How the men shouted and clapped; for there never was a wedding of poetry to music made under more inspiring influences! Getting a brief furlough, the Durang brothers sang it in public soon after. It was caught up in the camps, and sung around the bivouac fires, and whistled in the streets, and when peace was declared, and the the soldiers went back to their homes, they carried this song in their hearts as the most precious souvenir of the war of 1812. 352 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans The song bears evidence of the special incident to which it owes its creation, and is not suited to all times and occasions on that account. To supply this want, additional stanzas have, from time to time, been written. Perhaps the most notable of all these is the following stanza, which was written by Oliver Wendell Holmes, at the request of a lady, during our Civil War, there being no verse alluding to treasonable attempts against the flag. It was originally printed in the Boston Evening Transcript : "When our land is illumined with liberty's smile, If a foe from within strike a blow at her glory, Down, down with the traitor who dares to defile The flag of her stars and the page of her story ! By the millions vmchained Who their birthright have gained We will keep her bright blazon forever unstained; And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave While the land of the free is the home of the brave." The air selected under such interesting circumstances as we have described — Anacrcon in Heaven, — is that of an old English song. In the second half of the eighteenth century a jovial society, called the "Anacrenotic," held its festive and musical meetings at the "Crown and Anchor" in the Strand. It is now the " Whittington Club ;" but in the last century it was frequented by Doctor Johnson, Boswell, Sir Joshua Reynolds and others. One Ralph Tomlinson, Esq., was at that time president of the Anacreontic Society, and wrote the words of the song adopted by the club, and John Stafford Smith set them to music, it is claimed to an old French air. The song was published by the composer, and was sold at his house, 7 Warwick Street, Spring Garden, London, between the years 1770-75. Thus the source of the music so long identified with Francis Scott Key 353 this inspiring song is swallowed up in the mystery of the name of Smith. The flag of Fort McHenry, which inspired the song, still exists in a fair state of preservation. It is at this time thirty- two feet long and of twenty-nine feet hoist. In its original dimensions it was probably forty feet long; the shells of the enemy, and the work of curiosity hunters, have combined to decrease its length. Its great width is due to its having fifteen instead of thirteen stripes, each nearly two feet wide. It has, or rather had, fifteen five-pointed stars, each two feet from point to point, and arranged in five indented parallel lines, three stars in each horizontal line. The Union rests in the ninth, which is a red stripe, instead of the eighth, a white stripe, as in our present flag. There can be no doubt as to the authenticity of this flag. It was preserved by Colonel Armstead, and bears upon its stripes, in his autograph, his name and the date of the bombardment. It has always remained in his family and in 1861 his widow bequeathed it to their youngest daughter, Mrs. William Stuart Appleton, who, some time after the bombard- ment, was born in Fort McHenry under its folds. She died in New York, July 25, 1878, and bequeathed the flag to her son, Mr. Eben Appleton, of Yonkers, New York, who now holds it. The Star-Spangled Banner has come out of the Spanish War baptized with imperishable glory. Throughout the war it has been above all others, in camp or on the battlefield, the song that has aroused the highest enthusiasm. During the bombardment of Manila the band on a British cruiser, lying near the American fleet, played The Star-Spangled Banner, thus showing in an unmistakable way their sympathy with the American cause. In the trenches before Santiago it was sung again and again by our soldiers and helped, more than any- thing else, to inspire them to deeds of heroic valor. Once when the army moved forward in the charge, the man who played the E-flat horn in the band left his place and rushed 354 CAriTAL Stories About Famous Americans forward with the soldiers in the attacking cokimn. Of course the band's place is in the rear. But this man, unmindful of everything, broke away and went far up the hill with the charge, carrying his horn over his shoulder, slung with a strap. For a time he went along unobserved, until one of the officers happened to see him. And he said to him, "What are you doing here? You can't do anything; you can't fight; you havn't any gun or sword. This is no place for you. Get down behind that rock." The soldier fell back for a minute, half dazed, and feeling the pull of the strap on his shoulder cried out in agony : "I can't do anything, I can't fight." And so he got down be- hind the rock. But instantly he raised his horn and began to play The Star-Spangled Banner. They heard him down in the valley, and immediately the band took it up, and in the midst of those inspiring strains the army charged to victory. The Star-Spangled Banner complete, as originally written by Francis Scott Key is as follows : "O say, can you see by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight. O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming ! And the rocket's red glare, The bombs bursting in air. Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there ; O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On that shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep. As it fitfully blows now conceals, now discloses ? Now it catches the gleam Of the morning's first beam, Philandkr C. Knox 355 In full glory reflected now shines on the stream ; 'Tis the star-spangled banner ! Oh, long may it wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave ! And where is that band who so vauntingly swore That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion A home and a country should leave us no more? Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save The hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave ! Oh, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand Between their loved homes and the war's desolation ! Blessed with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation Then conquer we must When our cause it is just, And this be our motto — *In God is our trust :' And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!" PHILANDER C. KNOX THE TRUST THAT WAS TOO MUCH FOR HIM 'pHILANDER C. KNOX, former Attorney-General of the ^ United States, is an enthusiastic angler. Recently he •took a trip to a mountainous region of Pennsylvania. One of his guides was an old mountaineer named Jacob Krebbe, and well known to the Attorney-General. Krebbe Is quite an adroit conversationalist, and is not unknown to the fishermen in his section as a humorist. 356 Capital Stories About Famous Americans One hot afternoon, Jacob Krebbe and Mr. Knox chanced by a big pool where the trout were rising freely and snapping at a greenish-blue fly on the surface of the water. Mr. Knox had nothing in his fly-book that resembled the insect in question, and, after a series of ineffectual casts, gave up in disgust. "Seems as if that green and blue fly had a sort of a trust on that pool of trout," said the patient guide. Mr. Knox nodded. "Well,'" resumed Krebbe, "if you can't bust a trust I don't know who can. Let's be gettin'." A VIVID CONTRAST When ]\Ir. Knox, now Senator from Pennsylvania, went to Washington to take up the portfolio of the Attorney-General, he received a bit of good-natured chaff from his colleagues m the Cabinet by reason of his diminutive stature. One day Knox was telling Shaw, Secretary of the Treas- ury, of a sight-seeing trip he had made. "Do you know," said he, "that until this present trip to the Capital, I never had visited the Washington Monument? Well, I slipped down to- day and had a look at it. Besides that, I had my photo taken while I was standing at the base of the shaft." "How did the monument stand the contrast?" queried Shaw. "Really, it didn't present so insignificant an appearance as you might imagine," responded the Attorney-General. THOMAS W. LAWSON ENCOUNTER WITH A WIND CLOCK 'T^HOMAS W. LAWSON, himself an adept in unconven- -^ tional tactics, recently received a shock at his own speciality. He was driving a spirited horse to a light vehicle. Having occasion to leave it in order to enter an office building, he called to a street urchin : NELSON A. MILES WINFIELD SCOTT SCHLEY OLIVER O. HOWARD ROBLEY D. EVANS FITZHUGH LEE FiTzHUGH Lee) 359 "Sonny, hold my horse?" "Cert.," was the pert reply; "what do I git?" "A dollar an hour," said Mr. Lawson, laughing. "By that clock?" continued the lad, pointing to a street clock m front of a jeweler's. "Yes," said the financier, much amused. "All right," assented the boy, with a sudden alacrity in con- trast with his previous hesitation. Mr. Lawson performed his errand and emerged again. "How much do I owe you ?" he asked the boy. "Two hundred and seven dollars." "What?" "By the clock, mister." Mr. Lawson glanced at the clock, — an advertisement. It contained no works, but was operated by currents of air, and the hands were revolving with the rapidity of a pin wheel. "I thought Wall Streeters could do more business on wind than anybody," gasped Mr. Lawson, "but this takes my time !" FITZHUGH LEE A SAD MISTAKE OHORTLY after the expiration of his term as Governor of ^^ Virginia, General Fitzhugh Lee decided to rest for a few weeks, and selected Palm Beach, P'lorida, as the place, ex- President Cleveland having also selected that place for a few weeks' sojourn. General Lee's emoluments as Governor had not been very large, and he was not seeking an expensive hostlery. "Imagine my surprise and chagrin," he said, "on arriv- ing late one evening at Palm Beach, and, after registering at the hotel, being escorted with great attention to a suite with this notice on the door : 'The price of these rooms is one hun- dred dollars per day.' 360 Capital Stories About Famous Americans "It was too late for me to attempt to make any change, besides I was given to understand that the rooms were especially prepared for the ex-Governor of Virginia. One hundred dollars a day ! Half that night I tumbled and tossed, thinking about the price of those rooms and wondering where I was going to get the money. I finally concluded that the only thing left for me to do was to quit that hotel without loss of time, as it would certainly be beneath the dignity of an ex- Governor of Virginia to ask for anything cheaper than the room especially assigned to him. Accordingly I arose at an early hour, packed my trunk and proceeded to the office. I informed the clerk that I had changed my programme, and was obliged to leave on the next train and that I wished my bill at once. " 'Why, Governor !' exclaimed the clerk, 'your sudden de- parture will prove a great disappointment, as we expected you would remain several weeks.' " 'I am sorry, too,' I said, 'but I must leave on that ten o'clock train.' Indeed, I was sorry to leave, but there was that hundred dollars a day, which I knew I could not pay. "The clerk, however, made no move, and I reiterated my request for my bill, "'That's all right,' replied the clerk. 'Mr. Flagler left orders, as soon as we heard that you were coming, that there was to be no charge as long as you remained, whether one day or six weeks. We are only sorry that you can't remain !' " ROBERT E. LEE DUTY RATHER THAN WEALTH XT ON. H. W. HILLIARD, ex-member of the Federal Con- gress, made a speech in Augusta, Georgia, at the meet- ing there held to do honor to the memory of General Lee, in which he said : Robert E. Lee 361 "An offer, originating in Georgia, and I believe in this very- city, was made to him to place an immense sum of money at his disposal if he would consent to reside in the city of New York and represent Southern commerce. Millions would have flowed to him. But he declined. He said : 'No ; I am grateful, but I have a self-imposed task, which I must accomplish. I have led the young men of the South in battle; I have seen many of them fall under my standard. I shall devote my life now to training young men to do their duty in life.' " LEE'S BOTTLE OF WHISKEY He was exceedingly abstemious in his own habits. He never used tobacco, and rarely took even a single glass of wine. Whiskey or brandy he did not drink, and he did all in his power to discourage their use by others. In the spring of 1861, while on an inspection tour to Nor- folk, a friend there insisted that he should take two bottles of very fine old "London Dock" brandy, remarking that he would be certain to need it, and would find it very difficult to obtain so good an article. General Lee declined the offer, saying that he was sure he would not need it. "As proof that I will not," he said, "I may tell you that, just as I was starting to the Mexican War, a lady in Virginia prevailed on me to take a bottle of fine old whiskey, which she thought I could not get on without. I carried the bottle all through the war without having had the slightest occasion to use it, and on m}' return home I sent it back to my good friend, that she might be convinced that I could get on without liquor." But the gentleman still insisted, and the General politely yielded and took the two bottles. At the close of the war he met a brother of this gentle- man (from whom I get the incident) in Lexington, and said to him : "Tell your brother that I kept the brandy he gave me all through the war, and should have it yet, but that I was 362 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans obliged to use it last summer in a severe illness of one of my daughters." GENERAL LEE'S TREAT Upon another occasion General Lee proposed to "treat" some of his officers, remarking, "I have just received a demi- john which I know is of the best." The demijohn, tightly corked, was produced, drinking-vessels were brought out, and all gathered around in eager expectancy, when the General filled the glasses and cups to the brim — not with old "Cognac" or "Bourbon" — but with fresh buttermilk, which a kind lady, knowing his taste, had sent him. He seemed to enjoy greatly the evident disappointment of some of the company when they ascertained the true character of their "treat." A SHREWD REBUKE One day, at Petersburg, General Lee, who never suffered a day to pass without visiting some part of his lines, rode by the quarters of one of his Major-Generals, and requested him to ride with him. As they were going he asked General if a certain work which he had ordered to be pushed was completed. He replied with some hesitation that it was, and General Lee then proposed that they go and see it. Arriving at the spot it was found that little or no progress had been made since they were there a week before, and General was profuse in his apologies, saying that he had not seen the work since they were there together, but that he had ordered it to be completed at once, and that Major had informed him that it had been already finished. General Lee said noth- ing then, except to remark, quietly, "We must give our per- sonal attention to the lines." But, riding on a little farther, he began to compliment General on the splendid charger he rode. "Yes, sir," said General , "he is a splendid animal, and I prize him the more highly because he belongs Abraham Lincoln 363 to my wife, and is her favorite riding-horse." "A magnificent horse," rejoined General Lee, "but I should not think him safe for Mrs. to ride. He is entirely too spirited for a lady, and I would urge you by all means to take some of the mettle out of him before you suffer Mrs. to ride him again. And, by-the-way, General, I would suggest to you that these rough paths along these trenches zvould be very admirable^ ground over zvhich to tame him." The face of the gallant sol- dier turned crimson ; he felt most keenly the rebuke, and never afterward reported the condition of his lines upon information received from Major , or any one else. His spirited charger felt the effect of this hint from headquarters. ABRAHAM LINCOLN A ROMANCE OF THE CIVIL WAR ■pUFUS ROCKWELL WILSON retold, a few years ago, -■-^ in Success, this very remarkable story in which Abra- ham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis, and a devoted slave, are the dramatic factors : "When, in 1835, Jefferson Davis, later President of the Confederacy, left the regular army, his elder brother, Joseph, gave him Brierfield, a splendid plantation of two thousand acres on the Mississippi River, a few miles below Vicksburg, and a number of slaves. This latter included a growing negro boy called Ben Montgomery, whom Mr. Davis made his body servant. The lad was unusually intelligent, and Mr. Davis saw that in him were capabilities not common to the African race. He taught him to read, and then to write, and soon he became an admirable assistant. He was not only Jefferson Davis' body servant, but also his private secretary, book- keeper, and general factotum. His penmanship was beautiful, and his plantation bookkeeping, in its simplicity and accuracy, was the envy and admiration of the countryside. He knew 364 Capitai, Stories About Famous Americans more of the business of the Davis brothers, except themselves, than anyone else. "After Jefferson Davis entered politics, Ben Montgomery became still more useful. When the master was on his long campaign tours, or in Washington, Montgomery had authority to open letters not marked as private, and to answer them; he had power, in writing answers, to transact any business necessary for the plantation. By this time Montgomery had come to have absolute charge of the Brierfield estate. He did not interfere with the management of the negroes, or with anything else under the overseer's purview ; but the general business of the place he transacted without consulting anybody except the master. "When Jefferson Davis left Washington, in 1861, after re- signing his seat in the Senate, he went to Brierfield. His estate was his sole maintenance. It was certain that, during the im- pending struggle, he must be absent much of the time, and whom should he leave in charge of the estate ? Finally Joseph Davis asked, 'Why not Ben Montgomery ?' and the suggestion was adopted. The usual white overseers were left in charge of the farming operations, but to the slave, Ben Montgomery, was intrusted the financial part of the business, under the direction of his master. The cotton crops of 1861 and 1862 were good, and, although there was some trouble about mar- keting the crop of the latter year, it was finally sent to New Orleans, and, later, warehoused in Liverpool, to be sold when the money it might bring would be needed. There were not more than four hundred and fifty bales, for the South then needed corn and food supplies more than it did cotton, and so the land was devoted largely to food crops. Then, early in 1863, came the Emancipation Proclamation of President Lin- coln, and with it, to the South, the equally dangerous Act of Confiscation. This latter was put into execution, wherever pos- sible, with great energy. Treasury agents, armed with all the Abraham Lincoln 365 forms of law, or without them sometimes, seized all property belonging to the list of suspects as soon as it came under the protection of the Union armies. "Then, for the first time in his life, Ben Montgomery asked permisison to visit Richmond. " 'Dear Marse Jeff," he wrote, 'I want to go to Richmond to see you, and I want to go right away. There is something that I want to tell you that I dare not write, so do please let me go to Richmond at once.' "Mr. Davis could not imagine what the negro had on his mind, but wrote him to come, and sent him the necessary per- mit for a slave to travel. " 'Mars Jeff,' said Ben, when he arrived at Richmond and had an opportunity to talk with his master, 'you know Mr. Lincoln has issued what he calls an emancipation proclamation, and with it another proclamation confiscating the property of certain archrebels, as he calls them. Now, they are going to confiscate your property just as soon as they get a chance. Suppose you and Master Joe sell me your estates, and do it before the Yankees capture our country.' " 'Why, Ben,' Mr. Davis said, 'you are a slave and can't hold property in Mississippi.' " 'That's true,' said Ben, 'but you can set me free. Make out two sets of free papers. Give me one set and keep one yourself. Then make out a third paper, which shall say that under certain conditions the free papers are to be canceled.' "The conditions were that the Federals should capture the city of Vicksburg and the Davis estate which lay eighteen miles below. " 'Why, Ben, that's an excellent idea. Let me think it over for a day or two,' Mr. Davis said. "He talked it over with his brother Joseph. It was impor- tant to them that they should have the income of this estate. If the Federal soldiers should capture Vicksburg, about the 366 Capitai, Stories About P'amous Americans first property they would confiscate and plunder would be the Davis estate. But, if this property belonged to a negro, freed before the capture of Vicksburg, then, under the Emancipation Proclamation, it would be his, and could not be seized by the Federal agents. The plan promised well, and the Davis broth- ers, after consultation, decided to adopt it. Jefferson Davis loaned to Ben, for the purpose of making the sale, ten thousand dollars. The consideration for the estate was thirty thousand dollars, on ten years' time, Mnth interest at six per cent. Know- ing there would be some trouble about the matter, the legal papers were drawn with exceptional care. John A. Campbell, who resigned his place on the United States supreme bench when the war began, was the attorney; at the same time he drew Ben's free papers, with a clause in each that, under cer- tain conditions, the free papers should become null and void. "Returning to Brierfield, Montgomery had all the papers promptly recorded in the proper offices in Warren County, Mississippi. Events speedily showed that he acted wisely, for in less than a week after Vicksburg fell, in July, 1863, an agent of the United States treasury department appeared at Brier- field to take possession of the goods, chatties, and movables on the plantation, preparatory to formal confiscation of the pro- perty by the United States. The agent traveled in state, escorted by a troop of cavalry, only to be met by Montgomery, who mildly asked his business. " 'I have come,' said the agent, 'to take possession of all movable goods and stores on Jefferson Davis' plantation.' " 'Mr. Davis owns no plantation in this section of the countr)%' Montgomery rejoined. " 'Then to whom does this place belong?' queried the aston- ished officer. " 'These three plantations,' answered Montgomery, calmly, 'consisting of the Hurricane, Palmyra and Brierfield estates, are my property.' Abraham LincoIvN 367 " 'You don't suppose that I'll believe such a story as that, do you ?' asked the agent. " 'The story that I have told you is true in every respect,' said Montgomery. 'If you will come into the house, I will show you all the papers, and you can decide upon their legality.' " 'The agent was a lawyer, and, when he looked over the deeds, he saw that a correct legal transfer had been made. But he said, in triumph : " 'At the time this sale was made, you were a slave. You could not hold real estate in IMississippi.' "Thereupon Montgomery, with a smile, handed the agent his free papers, made out and legally verified four days before the title to the real estate was passed. " 'Now,' said Montgomery, 'this country is under the pro- tection of the United States, is it not ?' " 'Why, yes,' said the officer, 'it is.' " 'And I am entitled to all the rights and privileges of a citizen of the United States, am I not ?' " 'I suppose you are,' was the reluctant reply. " 'Then, sir, under the Emancipation Proclamation of Presi- dent Lincoln, and by virtue of these free papers made before that proclamation was issued, I am a citizen of the United States, with all the rights and privileges that any citizen has. You are especilly enjoined by that proclamation to see that I and all of mv race are protected in our legal rights, are you not ?' " 'Yes,' replied the officer, who saw that he was cornered. " 'Then I request that you leave my property untouched, for otherwise I shall call upon the President of the United States to know whether or not this proclamation is more than an empty form.' "The agent and his escort went back to Vicksburg. ]\Tont- gomery at once addressed a letter to the commanding officer 3^.S Cai'itai, vS'i"(>ini;s Ac.ouT I'amous Ami'.imcans al Viclsshiiif;', sclliii}; foilli thai lie was a free man of color, llic lethal owner o| (•< rtain planlalioiis, wliicli were sixcilicd hy name; that an ollircr of llic I 'nilcd Stales had called ii|)()n him .and had end('avf)rcd lo dcinive him of his properly without due process of law, and he demandeil of Ihc commandinj^ ofCicer his J)rolccli()n antl llial of llx' I Inilcd Stales. Still, ihe spoil was too I ich to he reiinipiished hv the Ireasnrv ai;('nts vvilhoiil a lifj^hl, and, in despair. MontjJi'oiiK'ry decided upon a j^rcat stroke, lie tailed npoii the I''edcral commander at Vickshurjj^ and asked th.it .1 l.ienlen.int an