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RECOLLECTIONS OF THIRTEEN
PRESIDENTS

Copyright, 19,54,
THEODORE ROOSEVELT

The twenty-sixth president of the United States, Was elected vice-
president, No\' 4, 1900, and succeeded to the presidency on the
death of William McKinley, September 14, 1901,

Recollections of
Thirteen Presidents

By

John S. Wise
Author of "The Lion's Skin,"
"The End of an Era,"
"Diomed," etc.

Illustrated

New York
Doubleday, Page & Company
1906

Copyright, 1905, by
The Curtis Publishing Company

Copyright, 1906, by
Doubleday, Page & Company
Published, May, 1906

jill rights reserved,
including that of translation into foreign languages,
including the Scandinavian.

INTRODUCTION
Since the adoption of the Constitution of the
United States in 1789 twenty-six individuals have
been Presidents in this country, of whom twenty-
five were Presidents of the United States, and one
of the Confederate States. Here they are :
"T.. Washington, from 1789 to 1797.
^ 2. John Adams, from 1797 to 1801.
^ 3. Thomas Jefferson, from 1801 to 1809.
- 4. James Madison, from 1809 to 181 7.
'- 5. James Monroe, from 1817 to 1825.
' 6. John Quincy Adams, from 1825 to 1829.
- 7. Andrew Jackson, from 1829 to 1837.
^ 8. Martin Van Buren, from 1837 to 1841.
' 9. William Henry Harrison, from 1841 until
his death.
10. John Tyler, from 1841 to 1845.
II. James K. Polk, from 1845 "to 1849.
12. Zachary Taylor, from 1849 until his death.
13. Millard Filmore, from 1850 to 1853.
14. Franklin Pierce, from 1853 to 1857.
.^15. James Buchanan, from 1857 to 1861.
16. Abraham Lincoln, from 1861 until his death.
- 17. Andrew Johnson, from 1865 to 1869.
¦"18. Ulysses S. Grant, from 1869 to 1877.
-1-9, Rutherford B. Hayes, from 1877 to 1881.
^20. James A. Garfield, from 1881 until his death.
- 21. Chester A. Arthur, from i88itoi885.
^ 22. Grover Cleveland, from 1885 to 1889 and
1893 to 1897.

23. Benjamin Harrison, from 1889 to 1893.
-24. William McKinley, from 1897 tmtil his
death. '"25. Theodore Roosevelt, from 1902 to date.
'~26. Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate
States of America, from 1861 to 1865.
The statement made by any man that he has
personally known one-half of these statesmen is
calculated to create the impression that he is old.
Yet before I was fifty-five years old I had per
sonal acquaintance with John Tyler, Franklin
Pierce, James Buchanan, Jefferson Davis, Andrew
Johnson, Ulysses S. Grant, Rutherford B. Hayes,
James A. Garfield, Chester A. Arthur, Grover
Cleveland, Benjamin Harrison, William McKinley
and Theodore Roosevelt.
Believing that the following reminiscences and
anecdotes of these men will prove interesting, they
have been written with no ambitious purpose and
perhaps originated in personal vanity. But even
if that be so, it is hoped that they will nevertheless
prove entertaining to that large class which is
always interested in the personalities of prominent
men. The reader will catch glimpses of these great
men quite different from their presentation by the
ordinary historian or biographer, and may form
some idea of how they looked and how they acted
in everyday life, without seeing too much of their
greatness or their plans of government.
He will be quick to discern also, the difference
between the impressions made by the oldest upon
a child, and those made in later years upon a man.
Still later upon .a contemporary — and lastly by a
President who is younger than the writer.

Without more of introduction let us proceed
with the description, after noting one single reflec
tion. We often hear the term " accident " applied
to men of great political prominence. There may
be, and doubtless are, instances of such accidents;
but none of the men who have attained to the
Presidency of the United States, whether by elec
tion or succession, or to the Presidency of the
dead Confederacy, were either "accidental" or
ordinary men.
Every one of them has possessed individuality,
strength of character, commanding personality
and dominating force, which stamped him as far
and away above mediocrity, and so marked him
as a leader, that to refer to him as an ordinary man
elevated to his position by accident, is grossly er
roneous, or weakly invidious; for men do not
attain positions of such importance by accident.
Some great quality, whether of heroism or states
manship or popularity or political management,
leads to their preferment. No verse in poetry ever
written expressed the truth more forcibly than the
lines — "The heights by great men reached and kept
Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they while their companions slept
Were toiling upward in the night. "

CONTENTS
CHAFTIK PAGI
I. John Tyler  3
II. Franklin Pierce . . . . 35
III. James Buchanan .... 53
IV. Jefferson Davis .... 67
V. Andrew Johnson . . . . loi
VI. Ulysses S. Grant . . , . 115
VII. Rutherford B. Hayes . . 133
VIII. James A. Garfield . . . .145
IX. Chester A. Arthur . . . 155
X. Grover Cleveland . . . 171
XI. Benjamin Harrison . . . 195
XII. William McKinley , . . 213
XIII. Theodore Roosevelt . . . 237

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Theodore Roosevelt (1902 to  )

John Tyler (1841-45)
Henry A. Wise (Statesman and
1806; Died Sept. 12, 1876)
Franklin Pierce (1853-57)
James Buchanan (1857-61)

Miss Harriet Lane (Mistress of the White House
(1857-61) . . .

Jefferson Davis (First and only
federacy, (1861-65)

Orator, Born Dec,

President of the

Andrew Johnson (1865-69)
Ulysses S. Grant (1869-77)
Rutherford Birchard Hayes (1877-81) .
James Abram Garfield (188 i until his death)
Chester A. Arthur (1881-85) •
Grover Cleveland (1885-89 and 1893-97)
Benjamin Harrison (1889-93) •
William McKinley (1897 until his death)
Mark Hanna (U. S. Senator from Ohio)

Frontispiece

rACING PAGE 4

8
3654

Con

58
68
102116 134
146
172196
214218

JOHN TYLER

I.—JOHN TYLER
OH ! FOR an hour of the happy childhood in
which I first laid eyes upon ex-President
Tyler. It was in the early fifties. I
was a little bit of a freckled-faced boy, with the
skin peeling off my nose and sun-blisters on
my mouth, bare-footed and bare-headed. My
father, who was devoted to his children and loved
their companionship, had taken me with him
upon a fishing trip to the Virginia Capes. We
had spent a glorious week upon a sloop, and I
had fished and bathed and run about upon the
shore until I was burned and blistered. When
the time came for our retum to civilisation my
underwear was a veritable shirt of Nessus upon
my blistered back, and Jim, my father's valet,
spent hours smearing me with buttermilk and
other remedies to alleviate the pain before I could
wear my shirt with any comfort. When our
excursion was ended our sloop, in order to save
time, sailed out in the Chesapeake Bay from
Fisherman's Inlet at the point of Cape Charles,
hailed the Northampton which plied daily between
Cherrystone upon the Eastern Shore and Old
Point Comfort, and our party was transferred
in the middle of Chesapeake Bay, leaving our

4

RECOLLECTIONS OF

sailing vessel to retum at her leisure. The bay
was rough and the transfer was no easy matter,
with the sloop and steamer bobbing up and
down, side by side. I hesitated about making
the leap from our boat to the steamer. My
father had no patience with timidity. After I
had blinked one or two good opportunities to
jump, he lost patience, seized me by the collar
and seat of my trousers and tossed me mer
cilessly across the boiling waters into the arms
of a sailor standing at the gangway. Safely
aboard, we soon reached Old Point, and thence
she headed for Hampton, at which point boats
in those days touched on their way to Norfolk.
Old Point was nothing like it is now. None
of the great hotels were built. The old Hygeia
located near the sally-port of the fortress, was a
small affair. Few of the officers' quarters now
seen outside the fort were built. The causeway
which now leads to Phoebus was not constructed. ¦
Land was reached by a long bridge. Where the
town of Phoebus is now built up was farming
land. A small female college occupied the present
site of the Soldiers' Home. There were no
railroads of any kind upon the whole peninsula
between the York and James, and upon the great
Newport News plantation, now the site of the
thriving city with ship yards and a poptjlation
of thousands, not" a dozen people, white and
black, resided. Hampton was the only place in

JOHN TYLER
The tenth president of the United States. Was elected vice-president in
1840, and by the death of President Harrison, became president April
4, 1841.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 5
the vicinity of Fortress Monroe with any con
siderable population. That old settlement ante
dates the first coming of the English, for when
John Smith and his companions arrived at Point
Comfort in April of 1607 they found on the
present site o^ Hampton the thriving Indian
village of Kickotan, and often retumed there
from Jamestown, in the "starving time," to buy
com from the Indians. I remember that my
father pointed out to me then, or at some other
time, the place at which John Smith, in his
narrative, claimed to have shot an immense
number of wild fowl, in company with two com
panions, when he went to Hampton to buy corn
in the winter of 1608. While, with a boy's
eagerness, I was taking in all the points of interest,
the wind blew my hat overboard, for which my
father gave me a sound lecture about carelessness,
not ended when the steamer slowed up at the
Hampton Wharf. There, among the crowd wait
ing for the steamer, stood a striking-looking old
gentleman, whose face, the instant he saw my
father upon the deck, beamed with recognition,
and to whose joyous greetings my father made
prompt reply, forgetting all about the lecture
on the loss of my hat in his delight at meeting an
old friend.
"Why, there is President Tyler," he exclaimed.
But that announcement was hardly necessary,
for those around Mr. Tyler were bidding him

6 RECOLLECTIONS OF
good-bye with such cordiality and showing him
such marked deference and attention that there
was no mistaking his being an unusually important
personage. As soon as the gangplank was down he came
aboard and hurried up to the promenade deck
where we were. He and my father greeted each
other with almost boyish ardour. He was then
over sixty years old. Yet, as I remember him,
he mounted the companion-way with a step almost
agile, and his voice, while rather thin and high
and piping, was exceedingly agreeable and sym
pathetic. Mr. Tyler was, in appearance, of the old-
fashioned type of country gentleman then quite
common but nowadays almost extinct. Occasion
ally one comes across it, even to this day, in
the Middle West, but rarely elsewhere. He was a
tall, thin, flat, clean-shaven man, attired in neat
but not over-new black broadcloth. He wore
a standing collar, open at the throat, with a soft
black neckcloth with long pointed ends. His
waistcoat was cut low, displaying a spotless shirt
bosom of fine material. I think he wore calfskin
boots. I remember being as much impressed
by his narrow, flat feet and long, thin fingers as
by his striking face. His head was well tumed
and carried high upon a thin but muscular neck.
The Adam's apple at the throat was prominent,
and, in its constant play, an object well calculated

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 7
to fix the absorbed attention of the small boy.
He had a high, receding forehead, from which his
thin light hair, not very gray, was brushed back,
a prominent beak-like Roman nose, and a chin not
strong and aggressive enough to suit my ideal of
to-day. His eye, blue as I remember it, was
open, bright, clear and kind, and his mouth
firm and pure and sweet in expression. Goodness
and kindness and love and sympathy for his
neighbours enveloped him like an atmosphere,
and few men came under the spell of his personal
attractiveness without feeling kindly toward Mr.
Tyler, whether they agreed with his political
views or not. I think this indescribable sympathy
and charity for all mankind was one of the most
potent factors in his political triumphs. He
was sixteen years older than my father, so that
when he attained the Presidency in 1841, at the
age of fifty-one, my father, then in Congress,
was but thirty -five, a difference in age which
seems much greater at that period in life than
when men grow older together.
When Harrison and Tyler were candidates my
father was a fiery, impetuous, eloquent young
Whig representative in Congress from Virginia,
who had denounced Van Burenism with all the
power of his fierce invective. He went in the
Harrison and Tyler coalition of 1840 with heart
and soul, to accomplish the overthrow of what
was known as the " Spoils " system of the Democ-

8 RECOLLECTIONS OF
racy. Heartily with him, but upon much more
conservative lines, was his father-in-law and my
grandfather, John Sergeant of Philadelphia, who
was also a Whig member of the lower House.
Mr. Sergeant was at that time over sixty years
of age; a thorough paced Federalist; a Bank man;
a devoted admirer of Henry Clay; and a Whig
who centred all his hopes upon the election of
General Harrison.
A coalition between the Whigs and the Anti-
Van Buren Democrats was the only means by
which the defeat of Van Buren could be accom
plished. That coalition was brought about by
the selection of John Tyler of Virginia, an Anti-
Van Buren Democrat, as the candidate for Vice-
President upon the ticket with General Harrison,
whose antecedents were Whig and Federalist.
The record of Mr. Tyler was perfectly well known
when he was nominated. My father, his fellow
Virginian and personal friend, saw in him the
material for strengthening the coalition and,
from the Whig side, was largely instrumental in
securing his nomination. It brought to the sup
port of the movement many votes which would
not have been cast for it otherwise. Everybody
remembers the coon-skin and hard-cider campaign
of 1840. "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" swept
the country.
My father in that campaign made his famous
speech, in which he uttered the sentiment, " The

( y¥yy-.^,- A/-'^:

HENRY A. WISE
Statesman and Orator. Born December 3, 1S06; died September 12, 1S76.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 9
union of the Whigs for the sake of the Union."
He was himself re-elected to Congress from
Virginia, and my grandfather, Mr. Sergeant, an
ardent supporter of Harrison and Tyler, was also
re-elected, without opposition, from the old silk-
stocking district in Philadelphia.
Up to this time General Harrison was of course
the dominant figure in the movement. Mr.
Tyler was a mere incident. The Whig triumph
seemed complete, for, even had Mr. Tyler been
disposed to antagonise Whig policies or measures,
he could not have accomplished much in the
position of Vice-President. It is not likely, how
ever, that if General Harrison had lived there
would have been any friction between Mr.Tyler
and the Whig party. While as Vice-President
he might not have become champion of their
bank and tariff views, he would not, perhaps,
have made any assault upon them, and would
have contented himself with vigorous advocacy
of other reform measures, directed against abuses
which had led to the popular uprising against
Van Burenism.
Never were the hopes of the Whig party so high
as when General Harrison was inaugurated. He was
an old man, not much of a politician. He was a
pronounced Whig and a great admirer of Mr. Clay.
Clay was the idol of the Whigs. His hold upon
them was something marvellous. The secret of
that hold is almost incomprehensible in our day.

IO RECOLLECTIONS OF
Mr. Clay was a passionate, dissipated man, of
exceedingly boisterous and loose modes of living,
often indulging in carouses and excesses which
would have alienated and driven away conserva
tive support from almost anyone else. But his
excesses, instead of sapping his infiuence and
ahenating his Puritan following, seemed to draw
it closer to him. It was deaf to all suggestions
of his fallibiHty. My grandfather was a con
spicuous instance of this. He was a formal,
undemonstrative Philadelphia lawyer of Puritan
antecedents; had begun life under a Quaker;
had grown up in the strictest abstinence and self-
denial, and lived in an atmosphere of temperate,
cleanly domestic life. In business he was a
model of precision and punctiliousness. He and
his neighbour, Horace Binney, between whom
and himself a life-long intimacy existed, were
preeminently types of that frugal, industrious,
studious, ever- watchful man of the time de
scribed by the then popular phrase " a Philadelphia
lawyer." He participated in political struggles
as much from a sense of duty as from any desire
for their honours. The emoluments were far
below those of professional employments which
he abandoned temporarily in order to discharge,
as he understood it, the obligations of good
citizenship. So distinguished was he for these
Spartan qualities, the very opposites of Mr. Clay,
that he was chosen as the running mate of Mr.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS ii
Clay in the Presidential campaign of 1832. The
ticket was Clay and Sergeant. The eccentricities
of Mr. Clay did not in the least degree alienate
or weaken the admiration and devotion to him
of Mr. Sergeant.
" Gallant Harry of the West," as he was called by
his followers, might spend half the year in Washing
ton, drinking brandy, playing "lou" and "brag"
and "faro," horse racing, fighting and fomenting
duels, contracting debts he could not pay, indul
ging in any and all the exuberant dissipations which
his recklessness suggested, while men of the type
of Mr. Sergeant led their simple, frugal, virtuous,
orderly lives, with almost ascetic ideals of temper
ance and order in social life and business. They
might cross off from their Puritan ledgers others
who did not conform to their rigorous standards,
which were, in general, narrow, uncompromising
and exacting.
But there was one man to whose shortcomings
they were deaf and dumb, and that was Henry
Clay. His brilliant talents never failed to summon
them to arms, like a beacon set upon a hill
top for the gathering of the Highland clans.
To the day of his death, there was never a moment
when they did not answer his call with the bound
ing loyalty of clansmen flocking to standard at
sight of the burnt-cross signal sent forth by
Rhoderick Dhu.
The election of General Harrison was believed

12 RECOLLECTIONS OF
by the Whigs to mark the inauguration of all
their pet policies of bank and tariff.
They had absolute faith in the efficacy of those
measures. The future seemed full of promise.
Mr. Clay was their high' priest. With him to
frame and secure the passage of these laws, and
with a pliant executive to approve and enforce
them, they anticipated first an era of great
prosperity to the country; after that the delayed
reward of their idol. Clay, by electing him on
the strength of successful administration to the
Presidency; and, finally, a long lease of power to
the Whig party. It was an intoxicating hope
rudely shattered by an unexpected event. And
the bitterness attending the reaction was terrific.
General Harrison was sixty-eight years old
when elected. He had led a life of great exposure
and was decrepit beyond his years. He was
literally hand-shaken to death by his exuberant
friends within one month after his inauguration.
At the time this occurred Mr. Tyler resided in
Williamsburg, Virginia. He was a man of simple
domestic tastes with no talent for money -making.
It is a tribute to his honesty that although he
and his father before him had been in public life
for many years, with many opportunities to make
money, he was poor. Among his most intimate
friends at the time was the late William S. Peachy,
a distinguished lawyer of the old "burg," and a
connection of mine by marriage. The people

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 13
of Williamsburg were devoted to Mr. Tyler, and
cherished his memory as one of the most lovable
men who ever resided there. Mr. Peachy had an
inexhaustible store of anecdotes and reminiscences
concerning him. This is the story of his accession
to the Presidency, as told to me by Mr. Peachy :
After the inauguration Mr. Tyler had returned
from Washington to Williamsburg. His life at
his home was most unpretentious. There were
no railroads, and it required several days to
travel from Washington to Williamsburg. The
turmoil of the capitol was unknown and almost
unheard of in the primitive community of Williams
burg, and one bright April afternoon Mr. Tyler,
who delighted in the companionship of his boys,
was engaged with them in a game of marbles in a
pathway leading to his home. The spot, pointed
out to me by Mr. Peachy, is not far from the site
of the old Revolutionary powder magazine.
Peachy, who was a young lawyer, with residence
and office not far distant, had been attracted to
the scene of the game by the hilarity of Mr.
Tyler and his sons. They were playing the old-
fashioned game of "knucks" and the infliction of
the well-known penalties made them all boisterous.
Mr. Tyler had to take his punishment along with
the others, and when it was his turn to put up
the "knucks" his boys reveled in the oppor
tunity. He had lost and was actually down
upon his knee with knuckles upon the ground,

14 RECOLLECTIONS OF
taking his medicine stoically amidst the shouts of
the by-standers, when a stranger drove up and
inquired for "the President." Mr. Tyler arose
and told him who he was, not appropriating to
himself the title, and assuming that it was applied
to him by mistake. The stranger, without more
ado, delivered his dispatches, which were in deep
mourning, and a moment later Mr. Tyler, after
breaking the seals and reading, started and
exclaimed in great distress, " My God, the President
is dead! " It was the first intimation that anyone
in Williamsburg had that General Harrison was
even indisposed. The dispatch bearer had been
sent by a chartered sailboat direct from Washing
ton to Yorktown, and thence made his way by
vehicle to Williamsburg. One may well imagine
the different kinds of startling effects upon the
people produced by this announcement. Up to
that time no President had died in office during
the fifty-two years in which the Government had
existed. Nobody had seriously considered the
likelihood of this contingency, especially so soon
after the inauguration. It was a great and novel
national calamity. But, great as its effects were
elsewhere, it was an astounding thing to Mr.
Tyler himself, and to his neighbours and associates,
to find that in an instant, at a time when he had
no thought of such a thing, he had been trans
formed by accident from the tertium quid of the
Vice-Presidency into a full-fledged President. Mr.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 15
Peachy said he betrayed unaffected distress, and had
no thought apparently of how the event changed
his own fortunes. He at once returned to his
house, with the tears streaming down his face,
for he was a man of deep emotions and was
sincerely attached to the deceased President.
Later in the evening he wrote a note requesting
Mr. Peachy to come to his residence. Upon
arrival there Peachy found him arranging for an
immediate departure for Washington by the same
boat that had brought the news of General Harri
son's death. After some general conversation,
the President confided to him, with manifest
embarrassment, that he did not have the means
necessary to defray the expenses of his journey
to Washington, and inquired whether he could
help him out of his difficulties. Peachy laughed
at his anxiety, and promptly replied that it was
an easy matter to arrange.
There was in Williamsburg then, as there always
is in places like it, a thrifty merchant, who was
the money-lender and banker of the community.
There was no doubt of his ability to furnish all
the money requisite, and Mr. Peachy, after sug
gesting this, offered to call upon him and obtain
the requisite loan. The President hesitated and
said, "Yes, I have a note from him already,
offering me all the money I need. But," he
added, after an embarrassed pause, pushing the
note to Mr. Peachy, " I would rather not take it

1 6 RECOLLECTIONS OF
from him if I can arrange it otherwise, for, to be
frank with you, Peachy, some months ago, when
I needed money badly, I tried to borrow it from
him and he refused me peremptorily. I could
not offer the security then which I can now. Of
course he had a right to refuse me, but it mortified
me nevertheless; and, now, I would rather not
place myself under obligations to him when the
reason of the change in his attitude is so plain."
It is needless to add that the money was forth
coming from other sources.
Mr. Clay never accepted the conditions arising
from General Harrison's death. He preferred to
assume that Tyler belonged to the Whig party,
with all the obligations of General Harrison
resting upon him. As the Whig party really
belonged to Henry Clay, Tyler was, that being
true, as much an asset for administration as the
good old Indian fighter Harrison would have
been if he had lived. So Clay proceeded to.
formulate the Whig measures which Harrison
would have approved, and when Tyler refused
to approve them Clay denounced him as having
betrayed Whig principles ; and all the other Whigs,
great and small, throughout the land joined in the
choms, until the world for a time believed that
John Tyler was lineal descendant and administra
tor de bonis non of Judas Iscariot, deceased.
Clay was a royal old bully and drove the steel
home into Tyler with all his might and main,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 17
and John Minor Botts, a Whig congressman from
the Richmond district in Virginia, proclaimed
that he would "Head Captain Tyler or die," and
Mr. Sergeant glowered upon him as upon an
apostate. But they never did head Captain
Tyler, and they never shook him in his resolution.
They accused him of trying to "Tylerise" the
Whig party. But they never succeeded in " Whig-
izing" the party named Tyler. The result of
the great " Tippecanoe and Tyler too" combination
was that it met the ordinary fate of incongruous
coalitions, and its members fought each other;
but when the breach came the element which,
according to the usual course, naturally becomes
the servient element became, by an accident, the
dominant element.
How can any man be a traitor to principles
he never espoused? Tyler never was a Whig.
He never pretended to be anything but a Demo
crat. He was not nominated as a Whig but as
an Anti-Spoils Democrat, in coalition with Whigs
and other disaffected Democrats, the object
being to attract still other Democrats to the
coalition in numbers sufficient to defeat the
organization Democrats, who advocated the doc
trine "To the Victors belong the Spoils."
The only principle of Whiggery which Tyler
espoused when he accepted the coalition nomina
tion was that for which the coalition was formed,
and by which alone it was practicable, to wit:

i8 RECOLLECTIONS OF
the breaking down of the spoils system of Democ
racy, inaugurated by Jackson and in full force
under Van Buren.
It was demanding too much of Tyler to insist
that, upon other questions about which he had
never agreed with Whig doctrine, he should
abandon the convictions of a lifetime and approve
measures merely because General Harrison, if he
had lived, would have registered the dictates of
the Whig autocrat Clay.
So Tyler and his party, if such it may be called,
were soon together by the ears, in one of the most
virulent political contests of the century. And
he had very few friends left in or out of Congress.
The Democrats rejoiced at his dilemma, because
they looked upon him as a deserter from them;
and the Whigs, frantic at his obstinacy, pretended
to regard him as a traitor. His friends in Congress
were so few that they were called the " Corporal's
Guard," and at the head of them was my father.
His championship of Mr. Tyler was in my opinion,
from a political standpoint, the most disastrous
step of his political life and the costliest to him;
but it was infinitely to the credit of his heart and
in keeping with his innate chivalric repugnance
to wrong and outrage. In all his antecedents
he had been a Whig. He had opposed the
Democratic doctrine of nullification and voted for
Andrew Jackson. His championship of Tyler
tdtimately led him into affiliation with the Democ-

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 19
racy. I believe that, but for his championship of
Tyler and the course into which that led him, he
would have remained for life a Union man and
that he might have attained to any office in the
gift of the people. But he loved Tyler and
Tyler loved him. They were fellow Virginians.
He knew just what circumstances had led to
Tyler's nomination, and just what pledges Tyler
had and had not given. He deplored, as much
as anybody, the death of General Harrison, but
he denied that it imposed upon Tyler any obliga
tion to stultify himself in order to avoid Henry
Clay's anger. Moreover, Mr. Clay had, as my
father believed, done him a grievous wrong in
trying to shift to him responsibility for the Graves-
Cilley duel, and he thought the wrong Clay was
now seeking to inflict upon Tyler was character
istic of Mr. Clay's unfair nature. This intensified
his championship of his lovable and much- traduced
neighbour and friend. Mr. Tyler, although a
man of more than mediocre abilities, was not,
in my opinion, as great a man as my father
always thought him ; but he was a good man and a
grateful man. He remembered my father's un
selfish friendship, loved him tenderly to the
day of his death, and admired him extravagantly.
He spoke of him always as a gallant, impetuous
boy. When I saw them meet, one nearly seventy
and the other over fifty, it was like a meeting
between a loving father and son. And well might

20 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Mr. Tyler esteem him highly, for he had cham
pioned his cause without once counting the cost.
One day in the House of Representatives my
grave old grandfather, on the line pressed by
Clay in the Senate, attacked Mr. Tyler. The
debate was proceeding under the five minutes'
rule. His points were strong and trenchant.
Up to that time the relations between my father
and grandfather had been as cordial as possible.
While the latter was a man of deep affection, he
was a dignified, reserved man, and exacted the
utmost courtesy and respect from everybody,
particularly from members of his own family.
Anything like discourtesy or a lack of deference
offended him deeply, and, once offended, he was
slow to forgive or forget.
He was a trenchant debater, and what he
said was caustic and telling. In his dispassion
ate way he spoke beyond the time limit of debate.
My father, who in a fight neither asked nor
showed quarter, was managing the Tyler side
of the debate, and raised the point of order upon
my grandfather. When the point was raised,
my grandfather turned to the direction whence
it came, saw who made it, and took his seat
without another word. He never referred to the
episode but once, and that was five years after
ward. We shall see how. Soon after this a
vacancy occurring in the Supreme Court,
Mr. Tyler, through my father, tendered the

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 21
appointment to Mr. Sergeant, but he declined it
and suggested Mr. Binney. Mr. Binney declined
it and suggested Mr. Sergeant. The bitter and
protracted conflict between Mr. Tyler and Con
gress nearly destroyed my father's health. His
physicians demanded that, upon peril of his
life, he should not continue, but take a rest
from active politics and seek a Southern climate.
Mr. Tyler, who was devoted to "Wise," as
he always affectionately called him, nominated
him to be Minister to France. The Senate, in
this as in nearly everything else recommended
by Mr. Tyler, refused to concur. Then Mr.
Tyler gave him the choice between Portugal and
Brazil. He selected Brazil, and the Senate,
while unwilling to give him so rich a plum as
France, was glad enough to be rid of him in the
House by confirming his appointment to the
Brazilian mission. He went there and spent
three years fighting the odious African slave trade,
regained his health and, after Polk's election, was
recalled at his own request. While Mr. Tyler
was President, being a widower, he married a
beautiful young creature, Julia Gardiner. She
was daughter of a New York gentleman who
lost his life in the lamentable explosion which
occurred on the Princeton frigate. The Pres
ident and a number of his guests were aboard
to witness the test of a new gun called the
"Peacemaker." The gun burst, killing Secretary

22 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Upshur, Secretary Gihner, Mr. Gardiner and
several others. The marriage was a very happy
one. Mrs. Tyler was still a young and beautiful
woman when I first remember her. Her life
with Mr. Tyler was a perpetual love affair, and she
bore him a number of children. She was a
charming woman and an excellent politician.
She survived him many years, and when, long
after the war, the proposition to pension Mrs.
Garfield came up, she had the sense and influence
to insist that the bill should be made to include
herself as the widow of President Tyler, as well as
Mrs. Garfield. So that she had in her old age,
thanks be to God and her own ability, a comfort
able provision.
My father and Mr. Tyler had many jokes together
over the latter's marriage, one of which never
failed to make Mr. Tyler roar and turn red in the
face and wipe his eyes with his handkerchief,
with protestations that "Wise" had told it until
he believed it. It was this. Mr. Tyler had lived
a cheerless, solitary life in the White House until
his love affair with Miss Gardiner. One day,
shortly before my father's departure for Brazil,
the President invited him to drive with him, and
after a good deal of circumlocution confessed that
he had won the affections of Miss Julia Gardiner and
expected to marry her. He sought my father's
opinion, for it was too late for advice. Having
heard his story, told with all the ludicrousness of

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 23
the proverbial "old fool the biggest fool in the
world," my father told him the following story,
of which Mr. John Y. Mason was the sponsor.
An old gentleman in south-side Virginia called
his house servant Toney into conference about his
proposed marriage to a young girl. " She's too
young for you, Marster," was his blunt reply.
"Nonsense," said the master indignantly; "I'm
not too old for any young girl, Toney, I'm in my
prime." "Yes, sir," responded Toney, "I knows
you is in yo' prime. But dat aint de question.
When she is in her prime, whar will -yo' prime be?"
This suggestive anecdote did not deter Mr.
Tyler. He was married to Miss Gardiner soon
afterward. A kind Providence spared him and
his beautiful young wife to each other for seventeen
years of singularly happy married life, something
over half of which had gone by when I first saw
them. He was then very proud of her, and they
were as devoted to each other as young lovers.
Mr. Peachy greatly enjoyed describing a visit
which he once made to Mr. Tyler in the White
House before his marriage when the battle with
the Senate was fiercest. The animosity of Con
gress against Tyler was so intense that it even
descended to the meanness of refusing to vote
appropriations for repairs or furnishings for the
White House, and the place was actually shabby.
Mr. Tyler was the last man on earth to feel any
resentment at this. In his simple Hfe it made

24 RECOLLECTIONS OF
no difference to him whether the place was gilded
or tarnished. He cared nothing for display, and,
while he waged his war with undismayed courage
against overwhelming odds, it left little trace upon
the sweetness of his disposition. Mr. Peachy sent
up his card one morning, fearing he might disturb
the President in his busy work. A messenger
promptly returned and ushered him without
ceremony into the presence of the President. He
found him immersed in a great mass of papers
and documents, with clerks and scriveners and
what not, preparing answers to unfriendly Con
gressional inquiries. Mr. Tyler, as soon as he
saw him enter, dropped his work, advanced toward
him with a bright welcome, and extended both
hands. Seeing how busy he was, Mr. Peachy
insisted that he had merely called to pay his
respects, and would withdraw. "No, no, no,"
remonstrated the President. "The face of a
friend from home is a sight for sore eyes, Peachy.
I will not let you go." So they had a few words
together. But Peachy, who was himself a busy
Chancery practitioner, knew what interruptions
like this meant, and at last succeeded in retiring,
under solemn promise to retum and dine with
Mr. Tyler.
At the hour appointed he was ushered un
ceremoniously into the same room and found the
President still up to his eyes in work. "Sit
down, sit down," said he cheerily. "All will soon

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 25
be through." It was perhaps half an hour before
the President, in his characteristic kindly way,
dismissed his assistants, and turning to Peachy
with the air of a boy let out from school exclaimed,
" Now, Peachy, work is done and we'll have a
good time together for the remainder of the day."
Truth is Mr. Tyler cared nothing himself for
eating and drinking. Politics he loved, and in
them he found his meat and drink. His food was
the merest unimportant incident in existence, and
anything which allayed hunger and supplied
sustenance satisfied him. This was so well known
to his servants that they made little provision
for him when he was alone.
So engrossed had he been that day that, after
Peachy's morning visit, he went straight back to
work and forgot all about dinner until his guest
reappeared. The President summoned his butler
to inquire about dinner. That faithful servitor,
who had accompanied him from his home, prompt
ly appeared, bowing deferentially. "Well, Caesar,"
said the President, " we are ready for dinner now.
You may serve it as soon as you are ready. Mr.
Peachy is to dine with us. I hope you have
something nice."
The butler stood aghast. After much hesita
tion he said: "I is very sorry to tell you, Mr.
President, but dar ain't nuthin' in Gawd's worl'
to eat fur dinner, but dat ole ham bone you bin
peckin' on fur a week, an' some turnip salad I

26 RECOLLECTIONS OF
picked up in market a thinkin' to tempt you
wid it to-day. You never tole me nuthin' about
company comin', an' I has so often fixed up nice
vittles fur you an' seen you leave 'em on touched
on de table, or not come to eat 'em at all, dat
I has kinder give up tryin', and now you has
caught me nappin' sure 'nuff."
For a moment the President appeared sadly
mortified and embarrassed. But Peachy knew
him so well, and the situation was so characteristic,
that he enjoyed his discomfiture; and the President
himself, who had a keen sense of the ludicrous,
joined in the laughter at his own expense, and led
him to the dining room to make the best of their
poverty-stricken repast. "Thank Heaven it was
you," said Tyler, as he saw the scant fare. "It
might have been somebody else, and then it would
have been worse."
During the meal of ham and turnip greens a
happy thought occurred to the President. "I'll
tell you what I'll do. Peachy, to atone for this
wretched entertainment," said he. "We will
send for the keys of the White House cellars, and
you shall go there yourself and take your choice."
It was no sooner said than done. Peachy knew
good wine and loved it dearly. Accompanied by
the butler the two were soon rummaging the dust-
covered bottles in the Presidential cellars, and,
according to Mr. Peachy's account, he never
had such a froHc in his life. Smacking his Ups,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 27
with the memory of that afternoon's entertain
ment fresh in his mind, he declared that it was
the only time in his life when he had more good
Hquor than he could drink and not as many people
as he wanted to divide with him. Mr. Tyler was
very abstemious, cared no more for wine than
for water, and only took enough to keep him in
countenance. I am not sure, but I have the impression that on
the steamboat, on the occasion described in the
opening of this chapter, I heard the ex- President
and my father making merry over the way in
which the former had turned the tables upon
some people in Charles City County. At any rate
I heard them discuss the matter on several oc
casions. After his retirement from the Presidency Mr.
Tyler resided at a place called " Sherwood Forest "
in Charles City County. It was a county in
which the roads were notoriously bad. One
day the ex-President received an appointment as
" Overseer of the Roads." It was said that it
was made to humiliate him, and to express the
opinion of the Whig source from which it came,
that it was better fitted to his talents and capacities
than the position from which he had retired.
Be this as it may, Mr. Tyler did not take offence.
On the contrary, he accepted the place, and
instead of neglecting his duties, or performing
them in a perfunctory way as his predecessor

28 RECOLLECTIONS OF
had done, he went sturdily to work, invoked all
the powers of compulsion which the road laws gave
him, and before he was done with the work made
whoever was responsible for his appointment
heartily sick of the opportunity given him. He
did his work so well that the roads in his district,
from having been the worst became the very
best in the county, and were the models upon
which others were thereafter constructed.
In the remaining years of his life, spent in
Charles City, the ex-President by his blameless
life so endeared himself to all the people as
neighbour, friend and citizen that he had no
enemies when he died. But traces of the bitter
controversy between Mr. Tyler and the Whig
party lingered many years.
When my father retumed from Brazil, in the
summer of 1847, Mr. Tyler had been in retirement
for over two years and my grandfather had
declined further re-election to Congress. During
all my father's residence abroad Mr. Sergeant
drew his salary for him, honoured his drafts, and
generally managed his financial matters. On
their retum my father and mother, with their
three children, two of whom had been bom while
they were in Brazil, naturally visited Mr. Sergeant
at his home in Philadelphia. The old house still
stands in South Fourth Street. In those days
it was a grand structure. Mr. Sergeant built it
from the current income from his practice. It

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 29
has a large frontage and consists of a four-storied
house, with offices adjoining, facing on the street.
The offices communicate with the house by a
single door, and both buildings open upon a large
yard, with stables and carriage houses in the
rear. Here he lived luxuriously and practiced
law for many years, but the offices were an un
known territory to his family and grandchildren
except upon special occasions. Mr. Sergeant
was an early riser, and long before breakfast time
was in his office reading the morning papers or
engaged in work. When the family assembled
in the large breakfast room he would appear
through the doorway leading to it from the
offices, and the entire family greeted him with the
utmost deference and love, amounting almost
to fear.
One morning at breakfast he informed my
father that after the meal was over he would
be glad to see him in the office upon a matter of
business. Upon arriving there the complete ac
counts covering the years of my father's absence
in Brazil were laid before him. They were drawn
up in perfect form, bound with the red tape then
in vogue, accompanied by vouchers for the mi
nutest detail and a check for the balance. An
obsequious old law clerk was at hand to explain
every item. While Mr. Wise examined them,
Mr. Sergeant stood with his back to the fire
placidly awaiting the result. Seeing that the

30 RECOLLECTIONS OF
accoimts were perfect, my father thanked him
cordially for all his attention to his affairs and,
the business being finished, ventured upon other
conversation by suggesting, "Well, Mr. Sergeant,
what of poUtics? You do not seem to be as
much interested in them as formerly." "No,
sir," said Mr. Sergeant, dryly, "I have retired
from politics altogether. When you demonstrated
before the world that I could not govern my own
family, I thought it time to stop trying to govem
the country."
Until then my father had never known how
deeply he had wounded Mr. Sergeant when he
raised the point of order on him on the floor of
the House. He did all he could to atone for it,
for he greatly admired and respected Mr. Sergeant,
but the latter never forgot it or altogether forgave
it. This is why I say the bitterness of the Tyler
conflicts lasted long after they were over.
Away back in this chapter I began to describe
the appearance of Mr. Tyler when I first saw him
some years after all the happenings into a descrip
tion of which my rambling pen has led me.
That day when he came upon the steamer he
was the merriest and kindliest and happiest of old
gentlemen. "Wise, Wise," said he, as he caught
sight of my father's sunburned face and the
various evidences that he had been out upon a
fishing frolic, "will you never cease to be a
boy?" And then he called me to him and took

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 31
me on his knee and asked me many questions
about what we saw and what we did, with as
much interest as if he had been a boy himself.
Then he and my father fell to talking of old times.
One thing Mr. Tyler said impressed me deeply.
They were talking together of old times and
scenes in Washington. Of Clay and Webster and
Calhoun and Benton. At last, gazing -long and
tenderly out of the steamboat windows and
across the tawny waters of the James, he said:
" Yes, yes, the lions of the '40's are fast falling
asleep. Few of them are left. Wise, and I am
trying to fit myself to meet my summons when
it comes. You are still young. But I am fast
approaching man's allotted span of three score
and ten." Then they changed the theme and
grew merry again, and Mr. Tyler was almost
boyish in his urgency that my father should leave
the boat with him at his wharf and spend a few
days of recreation in the company of himself and
wife at Sherwood Forest.
I remember very vividly seeing Mr. and Mrs.
Tyler after that in Richmond on numerous
occasions when they were my father's guests,
between 1856 and i860.
Mr. Tyler was ever a most gentle, lovable and
loyal old friend. In all discussions about the
exciting issues of the day in politics he refused to
admit or to consider that such a thing as the
dissolution of the Union was possible. There

32 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS
is infinite pathos in his prayer made in an address
which he delivered in Baltimore shortly before
the outbreak of war, that he might live and die
in the faith that the Union would be preserved.
To the last he struggled against its disruption. I
can now almost see the old man and hear his
trembling voice pleading against the madness
of the hour. As late as February of 1861 he
presided over the Peace Convention at Washing
ton, which was largely the offspring of his en
deavours and he never cast his lot with his State
until all hope of union seemed dead. He did
what every other Virginian did who had been
reared to love his old State better than the younger
Union, which she had helped to form, and history
will justify them. But the conflict broke his
heart and' he died within a year. He was merci
fully spared the sight of the degradation which
awaited Virginia.
I am glad that I knew Mr. Tyler. He may not
have been as great a man as some of his prede
cessors or successors, but he was as good a man
as ever lived. He was a consummate politician;
a man of unbending resolution; he had a tender
loving heart; he was a loyal friend; a useful
patriotic citizen; and a neighbour whose unfailing
sympathy and soft answer could turn away
the wrath of the most malignant of his foes.

FRANKLIN PIERCE

II.-FRANKLIN PIERCE.
My father was perhaps as instrumental as
any other one man in securing the nomination
of Mr. Pierce.
It is odd that a friend in Boston should have
sent me, since I began these sketches, and without
any solicitation on my part or even knowledge
that he possessed them, copies of the following
letters which tell the story better than I can.
Colonel George, to whom the second letter is
addressed, was the law partner of General Pierce.
The student of those times may judge of the
influence they had on Mr. Pierce by seeing the
actual constitution of his cabinet. " Only " was
my father's home — named after Richard Only, a
former owner.
" Only," near Onancock, Accomac County, Va.,
"June 22nd, 1852.
"My Dear Sir: Yours of the 14th inst. found
me at our Court House yesterday, fagged out
almost with the trial of a laborious will case.
It refreshed me as would the laving from a cool
spring, and the best recompense I can retum to
the good heart which dictated that letter is the
acknowledgment of that feeling. The man who
has any heart cannot 'court the court' of pubUc
35

36 RECOLLECTIONS OF
preferment and enjoy even its highest honours.
There is the bitterness of ashes in them. I can
well then trust you when you profess to feel pain
and anxiety as well as surprise at your nomina
tion. It gave to me for one and to the large
majority of the Virginia delegation great pleasure
to tender it to you. We were first for Mr. Bu
chanan and complimented him with 33 ballots
continuously. Penna., Virginia, N. Carolina, Geor
gia, Alabama and Missi. had voted steadily
together. Portions of the Virginia and No. Caro-
ina delegations became restive against persisting
longer for one man. Penna. invited Virginia to
a conference. Virginia extended the invitation
to N. Carolina, (Georgia, Ala. and Missi. On
Friday night the committee from these six states
met in conference. We were still for Buchanan.
Mason, Harris, Martin and Floyd (the latter,
however, left before we came to conclusions, he
being for Douglas) and myself as chairman of the
Virginia Committee happened to be members of
the conference and all (except Floyd) to concur.
We found no difference of opinion from us among
the members of the committee of the other five
states. We were confident we could nominate
Mr. Buchanan if these sis states would persist
in voting for him, but were obliged to admit to
ourselves that Virginia and No. Carolina would
decide to take another name or other names up
before another rally could be made on that of
Mr. Buchanan. We saw that the names of
other gentlemen, not prominent then for the
nomination, withheld votes from Mr. Buchanan,
and to get the nomination for him or to nominate
one of those gentlemen we would have to give

franklin MERGE
The fourteenth president of the United States (1053-57).

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 37
each of them in turn a chance for the nomination.
For whom could we go in good faith, with the
chance of nominating him over our preference?
We settled unanimously upon Marcy, Pierce and
Butler. Each of them in turn should have a fair
chance given him for the prize; if either should
be nominated he was our choice, and if neither
could be we were to re-rally on Mr. Buchanan and
siicceed by the aid of the friends of these three
gentlemen named.
" Virginia was to put each in turn in nomination.
Penna., Georgia and Ala. were to be the reserve
corps for Mr. Buchanan unless their votes were
required to make and could make a nomination
of either Marcy, Pierce or Butler. The other
two states, N. C. and Missi., were to vote with
Virginia after the first and second ballots. And
we concurred in reporting to our delegations
simply that we had agreed to withdraw from
Mr. Buchanan for the present and to rally on him
again only when we saw that we could nominate
him. This was our plan, and the question was
which of the three should Virginia first name.
The Virginia delegation decided first to pay a
complimentary vote only to Dickinson, and Gen'l
Butler's friends, supposing that your name and
Marcy 's would both fail, preferred that his name
should be brought forward by Virginia last of the
three. Marcy was rather obnoxious to Dickinson's
admirers in our delegation. Harris of Page read
your letter to Major Lally to our delegation, I
endorsed his recommendation and you carried
twelve out of fifteen districts, obtaining the
whole vote of the State and the unanimous vote
of my district. Thus your name was carried

38 RECOLLECTIONS OF
before the Convention by Virginia on the 35th
ballot. For seven or nine ballots you stood at
29 only. At this time I thought your name had
failed and good faith required a trial of Marcy's
or Butler's name. But the Penna. delegation
preferred you to Marcy and requested me to hold
on to you for a few ballots more. This I consented
to and assisted in bringing up a part of the reserve
of Mr. Buchanan, Ga. and Ala. This gave the
impetus. The moment came for Penna. to decide
the struggle and I gave her the sign, as I was to do,
when Virginia called on her for her vote for the
man of the Granite Democracy. She came faith
fully up into line and there was then a rush not to
be hindmost. Thus you received the nomination.
The Wednesday before, early in the morning,
your friend French (quondam Clerk H. Reps)
and my friend Cushing called on me to present
your name for my consideration. It was singular
that I had supported the lamented Polk when I
had not spoken to him for many years, in 1844.
Now I might be called on to support you who
had not exchanged a smile nor a friendly greeting
with me from 1839, owing to an event no less
deplored by me than by yourself, not on account
of consequences to me but to others. I had my
own self approval, that was enough. You knew
not my justification, my part was wholly distorted
to your vision. You were a friend to the un
fortunate enemy of my friend. I could well
imagine why you could not take my hand until
'time should clear up the cloud that then hung
heavy over the heaven of our hearts.' I had
never felt unkindness to you, had not cherished
it if felt, and had it been felt and cherished it

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 39
should not have been allowed to interpose in the
discharge of my public duty. I so said to French.
He and Cushing (who is the most sensible New
England man I know) Atherton of your own
State, Clifford of Maine, Thompson of Missi.,
Harris of Virginia and myself were, perhaps, the
most efficient authors of your nomination. I
take no other credit, however, than that of
acting upon principle, without guile or selfishness,
and forgetting every evil passion of the past,
I shall support your nomination. Sir, con amore.
Your letter convinces me that you have an
understanding of the heart as well as of the
head which has spoken kindly to my heart and it
responds warmly. That is enough. If you are
elected all that I shall ever ask of you will be
for our Country not for myself.
"Yours tmly, Henry A. Wise.
"Hon. F. Pierce, Concord, N. H.
"Only, near Onancock, Va., Dec. nth, 1852.
"Dear Sir: I have been off to Richmond and
Phila. and, on my retum, found yours of the
5th on my table. Your letter gives me much
uneasiness. I was mainly instrumental in having
Mr. Pierce nominated and I had great confidence
in his administrative qualities, but I tell you
flatly that if he makes such a batch of appoint
ments as you conjecture, he won't have the confi
dence of Virginia long. I myself seek nothing and
want nothing. He may leave me out of the
Cabinet and welcome and not give me leave
even to decline an appointment. That shall
not disturb my support of his efforts to serve the
country in the least. But if he mingle one of

40 RECOLLECTIONS OF
every faction around his council board what
unity will there be ?  of New York would not
be stomached here. Marcy would be, but he
is obnoxious to Penna. and to the Dickinson fac
tion at home. What then? He oughtn't to
touch New York. Win her he will by the mass
of subordinate patronage. Let him appoint Cush
ing to the State. There is not another man who
could serve him as well or please us better. Let
him put Hunter into the Treasury. I repeat, I
want nothing, but if he goes there it must be on
terms of abandoning that Douglas faction with
whom I will not affiliate or compromise. Don't
let him touch  , if he does he will offend
every State-rights' man in the South. In the
West the last men to be touched are any of the
pure Cass or Douglas stock. Bright, or some one
of his men, who backed my efforts all the while
for Pierce, from Indiana will alone do in that
quarter. I would recommend an organization thus :
"Cushing, State, New England democracy;
Hunter, Treasury, Va. democracy; Bright, P. 0.
North W. Dem. (not of Douglas clique); Jeff
Davis, War, State Rights; Jno. Cadwalader,
Atty. Gen., Penna. dem. (or some one named
by Buchanan whose friends nominated Pierce);
Abram Renchor, navy, S. E. dem.  Interior,
an anti-Benton man from Missouri.
" His elements are — New Eng. democracy ; mid
dle influence of Buchanan in Penn., Va., N. C,
Ga., Ala. and Miss. ; the State-rights of the extreme
South and the wing of Cassites, the Indiana men
who backed us in Convention.
"This combination wiU make him strong and
a unit. If a Douglas man goes into that cabinet

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 41
it won't last 12 months. As for me I can paddle
my own canoe. I ask no odds, and, if not satisfied,
will give no quarter. I will not tolerate that
Douglas faction. General Pierce ought to be
informed that, before he himself could be nomi
nated, his friends, those who adhered to Buchanan
— had, in conference, to exclude three men from
all contingency of nomination, and those three
men were — Cass, Douglas and Sam. Houston.
The men who nominated General Pierce will
be sadly chagrined if now either of these men's
factions is preferred for the Cabinet. The most
bitter foes we had were the Douglasites. I had
rather dig sweet potatoes here at home than be
considered an expectant. My name has already
been allowed to be battered about with that of
 and  and such cattle until I feel it
is sooty and greasy. "Yrs. Tmly, Henry A. Wise.
"P. R. George, Esq."
The Presidential election of 1852 is the first
that I remember. In another book I have
described my recollection of the first announce
ment of the election of General Pierce. I have
always been partial to men with military records,
and was much impressed in the campaign of
1852 by the glorious record of the Whig candidate.
General Scott. He was a magnificent looking
man and his fellow-countrymen had him displayed
to them in full uniform — on foot, on horseback, in
battle, in bivouac and in salon.
In our home hung a picture of my father

42 RECOLLECTIONS OF
printed in the campaign of 1840, under which
was inscribed the sentiment, "The Union of the
Whigs for the sake of the Union " ; and at the age
of six I found it difficult to comprehend why it
was that we were called upon to hurrah for a
New Hampshire man and a Democrat against
General Scott, a Virginian and a Whig and a
great soldier in the War of 181 2 and in the Mexican
War. Still, without thoroughly understanding
the matter, we boys soon learned to laugh at the
pretentious "old fuss and feathers," as General
Scott was called, and to ridicule his lugging of
his " hasty plate of soup " into a Presidential cam
paign, and soon learned to cheer for Pierce and
King as lustily as anybody.
One bright November afternoon my father
took my brother and myself in his yawl named
the Constitution to the little village of Onancock,
where we received our mail. It was a mile
distant, and we were soon rowed thither by two
stalwart slaves. There we found a large crowd
assembled at the store of Captain Stephen Hopkins,
which was Democratic headquarters, and soon
after our arrival there was great cheering over
the news of the election of Pierce and King, which
came by the mail coach. In those days our
mail reached us by a stage route, which left the
railroad at WiUnington, Delaware, and ran thence
down through Delaware and the eastern shore of
Maryland and the eastem shore of Virginia,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 43
My father was of course called upon for a
speech, and aroused great enthusiasm among
his hearers by assuring them that he knew Frank
lin Pierce well ; that he was a man of high charac
ter and great abilities ; that he was sound on the
slavery question, and that his election would put
at rest all the issues which then threatened a dis
ruption of the Union.
It was the first time I had ever heard a suggestion
that a dissolution of the Union was possible. It
disturbed me greatly, and on the way home I
asked my father a great many troublesome
questions about the political issues of the day.
To me the Union was the greatest thing in the
world. The idea that any conditions might arise
under which we would not be part of it or in it
was to me monstrous, for I was a citizen of the
United States, not one of any particular State,
having been bom under the Star Spangled Banner
in the empire of Brazil. I thought the United
States Navy belonged to my father, because for
many years he had been chairman of the Naval
Committee in the House of Representatives.
When our family sailed to Rio it went in the
world-known frigate Constitution, and when it
retumed, bringing me with it, we came upon the
Columbia. The United States flag had floated
over me every day for the first year of my life.
The United States bands had played patriotic
airs every moming to wake me, and every evening

44 RECOLLECTIONS OF
soothed me to sleep, as the sailors of the nation
rocked me in their arms; so that the United
States was something more than a mere abstraction
to me. It was a very vivid reality, and if anybody
was threatening to break it up and make a row
about it I wanted to know all about it myself.
My father's devotion to the Union was just as
sincere and just as deep as my own, and that
afternoon he was both eloquent and enthusiastic
and spared no pains to reassure me and put my
fears at rest. Having heard from certain things
which he said in his speech that General Scott
was not "sound," and that General Pierce was
"sound," my brother and I needed no further
assurance, and were fully satisfied that Pierce
was the right man, and that night we built a
bonfire to celebrate Pierce's election.
A few months afterward my oldest brother,
Jennings, bade us all a long farewell, having
received at the hands of President Pierce an
appointment as Secretary of Legation in the
United States Consular service at Berlin. This
also tended to satisfy us that General Pierce was
very "sound."
A young gentleman of my age was not apt to
.have deep impressions or to reflect profoundly
conceming the administrative acts of President
Pierce ; in fact the only thing that I do recaU con
cerning him is that soon after his election his
Uttle son was kiUed by an accident, and this fact

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 45
was impressed upon me by the circumstance that
his letters to my father were in mourning. The
first and in fact the only time that I ever saw Mr.
Pierce must have been either in December of
1854 or 185s in Washington. My oldest sister,
Mary, married Dr. Alexander Yelverton Peyton
Gamett, a young naval surgeon, who resigned
shortly after their marriage and established him
self in Washington, D. C, where they lived for
many years. In the autumn of 1850 my mother
died, and her three little children, my brother,
sister and myself, were sent each year to visit
our grandparents in Philadelphia. We generally
passed through Washington going and coming
and spent a few days at the home of my sister,
where my father picked us up and took us back
with him to our home in the country.
One moming, while we were at breakfast at
Doctor Gamett's, a note in mourning was handed
to my father. It was from President Pierce,
requesting him to come to the White House, and
informing him that the bearer would show him
in by a private way. Oddly enough that undated
note has been preserved through all the vicissitudes
of after years and is still in the possession of
my eldest son, in his collection of the autographs
of distinguished men. My father, who had to
make the rounds of the Department that moming,
gave me permission to accompany him in his
carriage. I was soon bundled up in my wrap and,

46 RECOLLECTIONS OF
picking up the messenger, who was awaiting us
in Doctor Gamett's office, we were quickly
driven to the White House. I think we were
taken to the rear entrance, and there I was left
alone in the carriage for what seemed to me to be
an intolerably long time. At last my father
retumed, accompanied by a tall, handsome gentle
man. It was President Pierce.
In those primitive days the intercourse between
public men was much more democratic than it is
at present. I have a vague notion that the
President had on this occasion sent for my father
because he wished to secure the co-operation of
the two Virginia Senators, Messrs. Hunter and
Mason, in some public matter, and that, after
discussing the subject, they had come to the
conclusion that the best way to reach the Senators
was to ride down to the Capitol together, find
them in the Senate and confer with them in the
President's room which was hard by. Be this
as it may, it is certain that I had become an en
cumbrance and that they drove by to leave me at
Doctor Gamett's before they proceeded to the
Capitol. When the President entered the carriage he
gave me a very gracious recognition, and I in turn
watched him very intently. He was still in
mourning and seemed sad; perhaps I reminded
him of his own little boy. The things about him
that impressed me most were his kind bright eyes,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 47
smooth-shaven face, sharp-pointed nose and curly
hair. I do not even remember any remark
which he addressed to me. He seemed pre
occupied and was in earnest conversation with
my father during our whole ride. I had time to
note his black kid gloves and black shirt buttons
before the carriage reached Doctor Gamett's; and
this constitutes my inventory and appraisement
of Franklin Pierce.
It has been frequently asserted of Mr. Pierce
that he was not a man of great ability and that
he was an accident. I remember meeting Judge
Putnam of the United States Circuit Court some
years ago when I was trying a case before him in
Boston. We lunched together. He was from
New Hampshire, and in his early days had known
General Pierce very well. The case we were
trying was a controversy between two electrical
corporations involving their respective rights of
user of electrical currents in the highway, which
interfered with each other. The Judge was
pleased to remark that it was a subject with which
I seemed to be very familiar, and I replied that I
ought to be familiar with the subject as I had
argued the same question in twenty-seven States
of the Union and in England. Judge Putnam
was disposed to be facetious and replied, "Take
care that somebody doesn't say of you what old
Deacon  said of Frank Pierce." I asked
hipi to tell me the story, which he did, as follows :

48 RECOLLECTIONS OF
" Mr. Pierce was a popular man in New Hampshire
but he was never regarded as a very able man.
The news of his nomination to the Presidency was
a great surprise to the community in which he
lived. Old Deacon  had known Mr. Pierce
all his life. When he heard of his nomination for
the Presidency he exclaimed, 'Wall, wall, dew
tell! Frank Pierce for President! Neow Frank's
a good fellow, I admit, and I wish him well; he
made a good State's attorney, thar's no doubt
about that, and he made a far Jedge, thar's
no denying that, and nobody kaint complain of
him as a Congressman, but when it comes to the
huU Yewnited States I dew say that in my jedg-
ment Frank Pierce is a-goin' to spread durned
thin.' "
I laughed heartily at the anecdote, but told the
Judge I didn't know whether it bore harder upon
Mr. Pierce or upon myself.
Notwithstanding this uncomplimentary estimate
of his old neighbour, history will give President
Pierce a very respectable place among our chief
magistrates. He was called to office in a perilous
and trying period. It was a time which demanded
fearlessness and caution and repression, and he
performed his hard task well and faithfully and
patriotically. He was thoroughly acceptable to
those whose votes elected him. It is true that he
was often reproached for leaning too strongly
to his Southern supporters, but why should he not

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 49
have done so ? They nominated him and supported
him in opposition to a Southern man. They were
unquestionably the dominant influence in the
national politics of that day. All that he was
he owed to them. His loyalty to their views, so
long as he and they kept within the bounds of
constitutional propriety, was both natural and
right. One of the most attractive accounts of the
personal characteristics of President Pierce is to
be found in a book recently published by Mrs.
Clay, the widow of Senator Clay of Alabama. It
is particularly attractive in its description of the
social life at that time in the Federal Capital, and
I cordially recommend it to everyone who is
interested in the subject.

JAMES BUCHANAN

III.— JAMES BUCHANAN
It requires a vigorous appeal to memory to
cast back to the time when Pennsylvania was in
the column of staunch Democratic States, yet
such she was when I first remember her.
My uncle, William Sergeant, was a Democratic
member of the Lower House in the Pennsylvania
Legislature from the City of Philadelphia when I
was a small boy. I remember his leading me
by the hand through the streets of Philadelphia,
from one bulletin board to the other, when the
returns were coming in which announced the
election of William F. Packer, Democratic Gov
ernor of the State, and in the Presidential election
of 1856 the Keystone State went with a whoop
for Buchanan and Breckenridge, or "Buck and
Breck," as they were called in the political lingo
of the day.
A long friendship had existed between Mr.
Buchanan and my father, who was again a potent
factor in the Democratic National Convention
which nominated Mr. Buchanan.
My grandfather Sergeant died in 1852 and my
uncle, who was very much attached to my father,
had fallen from the Whig faith and become an
ardent follower and supporter of Democracy.
53

54 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Many of the letters which passed between Mr.
Buchanan and my father are still in my possession,
and show how very grateful and appreciative the
kind old gentleman was of my father's efforts
in his behalf. In more than one of them he
declared that he regarded his nomination as more
due to the advocacy of my father than to any
other one man in the United States.
The Presidential campaign of 1856 was, if I
mistake not, the first in which political cartoons
figured extensively. The news-stands and win
dows of book stores were filled with them, and
they were a delight to the small boy. It was a
primitive, but amusing and no doubt effective,
form of campaigning resorted to by all the parties.
There were Buchanan and Breckenridge cartoons
and Filmore and Donaldson cartoons and Fremont
and Dayton cartoons. As a class they were
very poor specimens of drawing and of. wit.
They were cheap lithographs representing all
sorts of birds and animals with poor likenesses of
the candidate for their heads. There was gener
ally in the background a picture of the White
House or something else suggestive of the Presi
dential chair. Great streamers came out of
the mouths of the caricatures, and on those
streamers were recorded feeble efforts at wit
which the various actors were supposed to perpe
trate. Mr. Buchanan was always represented as
a buck. In the Democratic cartoons he was

JAMKS BUCHANAN (i.N tkntke)
The fifteenth iiresident of the United States (iS57-("ii). Beginning at the left, the other men .ire: Jaco!
C'ass, Jno. B. Floyd. Howell Cobb, Isaac Toucev, Jusepli Holt, and leremiah Blart;

Thompson, Lewis

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 55
portrayed running for the White House in the
backgroimd and distancing all competitors.
" Breck " not infrequently appeared upon
"Buck's" back riding him in a winning race.
In the opposition cartoons " Buck " was frequently
represented as having been shot by the opposition
candidate. Sometimes he was strung up and in
process of being skinned. The supposed abolition
tendencies in early life of Mr. Breckenridge were
made the subject of great ridicule and comment
by his political opponents. I remember that one
of the cartoons represented Uncle Sam playing
the banjo and singing a parody upon "John
Anderson, My Joe, John." It began:
" John Breckenridge, my Joe John,
When we were first aquaint,
You were an Abolitionist,
And now you say you ain't."
Fremont was often exhibited riding upon a
"woolly horse," which was declared to be the
only thing he had discovered in his boasted
Rocky Mountain explorations. In one of these
seated behind him was his wife, the daughter of
Senator Benton, with whom he eloped.
Mr. Filmore was represented as an Abolitionist
walking arm in arm with a negro woman; and so
on and so on.
In all these pictures everybody was represented
as doing a wonderful amount of talking, which

56 RECOLLECTIONS OF
either consisted of bragging about what he was
going to do, or what he had done, or in ridiculing
something which his opponents had done or
proposed. At this time my father was Governor and we
lived in Richmond. Richmond was a Whig
know-nothing town by an overwhelming majority.
By far the most brilliant campaigners of the
place were the advocates of Filmore and Donaldson
and the American party. Mr. Fremont had no
following in Virginia.
These witty and aggressive speakers delighted
in lampooning and ridiculing my father, and their
boys and the sons of their followers were delighted
whenever they had a chance to try conclusions
with the little Democratic boys. The boys of
Richmond have always been notoriously bad boys,
and nothing gave the little Whig and Know-
nothing boys more pleasure at that time than
trying to lick the Democratic Governor's sons.
Sometimes they did; and sometimes they didn't.
But there was work enough to keep all of us busy.
After Mr. Buchanan's election my father, at
his request, paid him a visit at his home " Wheat
land " at Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Mr. Buchanan
offered him a place in his cabinet, but he declined
to accept it, preferring the position which he
held. By this time I was old enough to comprehend
something of such matters, and I remember how

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 57
interested I was, sitting in my father's office and
hearing him describe to his visitors the domestic
life of Mr. Buchanan at "Wheatland." It must
have been strangely in contrast with his mode of
living at the Court of St. James's while he was
Minister to England. My father was a very
vivid raconteur, and from his descriptions of
social life at Lancaster in those days it must have
been a most primitive democracy. The neigh
bouring population was Dutch. Everybody called
everybody else by his first name. Mr. Buchanan
was universally referred to and addressed by his
neighbours and friends as Jaimie Buchanan.
They drove up to his house in their wagons and
carts or more pretentious vehicles, tied their
animals to the trees or fences in the yard, walked
right into his house in their humble farm clothes,
many of them delivering him presents of apples,
pumpkins, chestnuts, cider or cheese, or whatever
tokens of their loyalty and friendship they pos
sessed, and made themselves at home, stayed as
long as they saw fit, talked to their host in the
most familiar way, and when their curiosity or
their friendly interest was satisfied took their
departure and bade Jaimie farewell most affec
tionately. Mr. Buchanan understood them fully, prized
their devotion sincerely, even if it was rough, and
adapted himself studiously to their simplicity
and neighbourly kindness.

58 RECOLLECTIONS OF
But that sort of social freedom gave him very
little opportunity for the consultations of states
manship, as his house was overrun moming, noon
and night with the free and easy citizens of the
Conestoga Valley. But when it came to his
residence in Washington nobody who ever occupied
the White House presided over it with more
dignity or in a style more courtly and befitting a
President than did Mr. Buchanan. He was a
bachelor. His favourite niece. Miss Harriet
Lane, was a handsome, charming, accomplished
woman. She had been the mistress of his home
while he was in England, I think, and at any rate
presided over the White House as mistress of cere
monies during his Presidential term, and was uni
versally popular.
About the middle of Mr. Buchanan's term my
brother Jennings returned to America after four
or five years absence as Secretary of Legation,
first at Berlin with Mr. Peter D. Vroom of New
Jersey, and afterward in Paris with Mr. John Y.
Mason of Virginia. I think he had known Miss
Lane abroad. At any rate, after his retum they
became warm friends. The newspaper gossip
of the day even went so far as to publish hints
that there was an affair between them, but I have
no idea there was any real foundation for the
report. They were simply two delightful young
persons whose tastes were congenial and whose
long residence abroad and experience in public

MISS HARRIET LANE
Mistress of the White House, 1857-61.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 59
society made their companionship agreeable to
each other. Nevertheless, my brother was always
enthusiastic about Miss Lane and referred to
her in terms of unbounded admiration and respect.
Long after the war, and years after my brother's
death, I remember hearing that Miss Lane, who
had by that time become Mrs. Johnson, spoke of
him in the most affectionate and admiring way.
I can testify to the hospitality and courtliness
of Mr. Buchanan, although the presence of Miss
Lane was not deemed necessary upon the occasion
of my visit. I think it was in the winter of
1857 that I paid my first formal visit to the
White House. I had been upon my usual annual
visit to Philadelphia, and my uncle, William
Sergeant, accompanied us back to Richmond.
Although not strictly germane to the subject, it
will interest the reader to hear about the method
of travel at that time, which was not much like it
is at present. In order to reach the depot in
Philadelphia it was necessary that we should
ride in a carriage a long distance from Fourth
Street to the Pennsylvania Railroad Depot at
Broad and Prime streets, for there were no
street cars as at present. There we took the
cars and went by rail to Perryville. At Perry-
ville we left the train and went down what
seemed to be an interminable and steep stairway
to a ferryboat. We crossed the Susquehanna
River on this ferryboat to Havre de Grace, and

6o RECOLLECTIONS OF
from that climbed up another steep and almost
interminable stairway to a train which bore us to
Baltimore. Upon our arrival at Calvert Street
station in Baltimore our engine was detached, and
the train was hauled through the streets of Balti
more by a long line of horses with bells on them
to Camden Street station. There another engine
awaited us which hauled us to the President
Street station in Washington, whence we were
taken in an omnibus half as long as a car to a
hotel, where we spent the night. Early the next
moming the same omnibus carted us a long
distance to a point near the Navy Yard in Wash
ington, where we boarded a steamer for Acquia
Creek. We reached that place about ten o'clock
and there took a train on the Richmond,
Fredericksburg & Potomac Railroad for Rich
mond, which latter place we reached about the
same hour at which we left Philadelphia the day
before. Sleeping cars were in those days unknown ;
there was no through traffic and very few night
trains. We stopped for a day of rest in Washing
ton, and my uncle informed us we were all to caU
upon the President the next morning. That was
a great event. Upon our appearance at the
White House Mr. Buchanan received us most
cordially. He was an imposing looking old gentle
man, tall and of large frame, dressed in spotless
black, with a high white stock. His coat was cut
something like the dress suits of the present day

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 6i
but with fuller skirts. His hair was white, close
cut, and stood straight up from his head. His
complexion was pink and healthy looking. He
carried his head on one side as if he had a stiff
neck, and the thing about him which was most
surprising to me was that one of his eyes was
dark hazel and the other light blue. I fear the
dear old gentleman must have observed the
intentness with which I scrutinised this last
phenomenon, for at that time it was a new one to
me. After greeting Mr. Sergeant most cordially the
President tumed to us and our Irish nurse and
said in the kindest way, " So these are the children
of Governor Wise, are they? I am glad to see
you, children. Your papa is a very dear friend
of mine."
"Second crop, Mr. President," said my uncle
facetiously, for he was an irrepressible wit and
wag. "Yes, I know," said Mr. Buchanan smiling;
"they are the children of his second wife, who was
your sister. I met his son by his first marriage
several times when I was abroad. Well, now,
children, what can I do to make you happy while
I talk with your uncle. Let us see." Thereupon
he rang a little bell beside him and summoned one
of the attendants, and upon his appearance bade
him take us to the greenhouse and show us the
pretty things there and give us what flowers we
wanted, and when we were sufficiently amused

62 RECOLLECTIONS OF
bring us back to luncheon in half an hour. He was
arranging so that he might in the meanwhile inquire
about his Pennsylvania "fences" from my uncle,
who was one of his trusted friends in that State.
In due time we reappeared and were seated as
distinguished guests in the dining room at a fine
luncheon. We had all the bread and butter and
jam and hot-house grapes that our hearts could
desire. "Old Buck," who, even if he had no
children of his own, knew mighty well how to
entertain the young hopefuls of his constituents,
came in before we finished our repast, smiled at
us and inquired if we were being taken care of,
asked us many pleasant questions, and finally
bade us good-bye with kindly messages for home.
I think he gave each of us a photograph of himself,
but mine went into the seething vortex of war
losses when our home and all its contents fell into
the hands of the Union troops in 1862. So that
even if Miss Harriet Lane did look upon us as
beneath her dignity, we left the White House
ready to support " Old Buck " for a second term,
if he wanted it.
Upon reaching Richmond my uncle amused my
father with his accounts of our raid upon the
White House and of the dexterity of good old
President Buchanan in dealing with a class of
guests with whom he was not very familiar.
Poor old President Buchanan. Times like those
upon which he fell are not suited to a man of

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 63
seventy. Whatever he may have been in his
younger days, the great crisis which he was
called upon to confront found him a weak, vacillat
ing, hysterical old man, with whom everybody,
friend and foe alike, at last lost patience.
I remember an anecdote resorted to by my
father to emphasize Mr. Buchanan's indecision,
which made a deep impression upon me when I
heard it. Something came up in the winter of
1 860-1, concerning which it was thought that, if
the President acted promptly, his ruling would
be decisive. Some person said, "Will not the
President act? He has it in his power to settle
it at once, if he will but take a decided stand.
His duty is too plain for discussion. Cannot you,
as his friend. Governor Wise, induce him to do
what is right?"
" Bah! " said my father contemptuously. "You
do not know Mr. Buchanan or you would not
expect him to take decided ground about any
thing. He reminds me of a discussion I heard
between two of my darkies about the Christian
religion. One of them planted himself upon a
proposition which the other was unwilling to
deny and yet equally unwilling to admit. The
proposer, seeing his advantage, addressed his
adversary with the inquiry: 'Is what I say so,
or not bO?' His antagonist hesitated, scratched
his head, and at last exclaimed, 'Well, Joshua, if
I must answer you, dis is what I have to say. I

64 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS
say dat what you says may be sort of so, but at de
same time it is sort of not so, and de more I
thinks of what you say de more I believe it is a
leetle more sort of not so dan it is sort of so.'
"And that," added my father, "is the attitude
of the poor old fellow upon every question which
now comes up before him. He is simply paralysed
by the immensity of the issues and the perils of
the hour."
Mr. Buchanan lived until 1868, and died at the
age of seventy-seven, but during the three years
after the war ended I am sure that no communica
tion passed between my father and his old friend.

JEFFERSON DAVIS

IV.-JEFFERSON DAVIS
The reader must now accompany me for a little
while to a region outside the United States, for
shortly after the expiration of the term of Mr.
Buchanan I took up my residence for four years
in a foreign country, viz.. The Confederate States
of America.
Mr. Lincoln never acquiesced in this view and
insisted that he was my President, nor did I
ever have a chance to discuss it with him person
ally. The logic of events had about convinced
me that I could not make my contention good,
however sound it might be in theory, when Mr.
Lincoln fell beneath the hand of the assassin.
I was fourteen years old when the great Civil
War broke out. Regarding my age when it
ended, I was much in the condition of a little
darkey on a Virginia plantation. He opened
the farm gate for a visitor to his master, and
scrambled up behind on the vehicle to ride to
the great house. The visitor, impressed by his
bright face and general precocity, looked back
at him and said, " You are a bright little chap, my
boy. How old are you?"
Grinning from ear to ear, the boy replied, " I
dunno, sir, 'xactly how old I is. Mammy says I
67

68 RECOLLECTIONS OF
ean't but fo-teen. But by de fun I is had I
'spec I must be 'bout twenty-five!"
Whether my experiences during the four years
in which the war lasted be called fun or something
else, they brought with them a grim realisation
of life's seriousness, and I developed more rapidly
during that time than in any like period of my
existence. I was "possessed" by Mr. Jefferson Davis, but
" obsessed " by Mr. Abraham Lincoln. The reader
will please observe the appropriateness of this
description.
^ The word obsess is a comparatively new one.
One cannot find it in the dictionaries of the
Confederate period, but I like it because it ex
presses a condition. Funk & Wagnall define
obsession as a "condition of being vexed by a
spirit from the outside." See how it fits.
If Mr. Lincoln had really been what my youthful
fancy pictured him the term would suit my
case all the better, for the lexicographers declare
that it applies "more particularly to evil spirits,"
and that surely was what I considered him then.
Among the people with whom I was reared the
Northern people were believed to be the ag^
gressors and the Southern people thought they
were acting purely on the defensive. I believed
that as religiously as I ever believed anything.
We regarded the election of Mr. Lincoln as
simply registering the purpose of the people in the

JEFFERSON DAVIS
The first and only president of the Confederacy (1S61-65).

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 69
Northern and Western States to disregard every
Constitutional guaranty to the Southern States
and to overthrow the institution of slavery by
fair means or by foul. The people among whom
I was reared were not zealous advocates of slavery.
On the contrary, they looked upon it as an in
herited evil, about which they were constantly
debating methods by which it might be ulti
mately abolished. As for myself, I think my
New England and Puritan blood must have been
asserting itself, for, as far as a boy of my age
may be said to have had any views upon a subject
of that gravity, mine were such that even had the
war not occurred I believe I would have grown
up an Abolitionist.. Moreover, unless I grossly
misapprehended the sentiments of older people,
I believe Virginia would of her own volition
have abolished slavery in a very short time but
for outside interference.
But the argument of that time was that the
North was unjustifiably and impertinently intrud
ing and interfering in a matter with which it had
nothing to do, in utter disregard of Constitutional
limitations, and that if it might do this it might
do the same thing concerning other matters until
the South was at its mercy.
It was further argued that, as the Northern and
Southern views of the interpretation of the
Constitution had been from the first radically
and irreconcilably in conflict, the South ought to

70 RECOLLECTIONS OF
withdraw from the Union, else it would be com
pletely dominated by the North.
That was unquestionably the plea upon which
the greater part of the Southern people were
induced to give up a love for the Union and
ultimately to favour secession.
But slavery was at the bottom of the trouble,
no matter who may delude himself to the contrary.
Children are among the keenest of listeners and
closest of observers. They are, too, as apt as
anybody to see and hear the real underlying
motives of great controversies, the good as well
as the bad, even when older people seek to veil
them beneath sophistries.
The political leaders of the South must have
been intensely inflamed and in deadly earnest
against the North. I do not remember that in all
the discussions I heard preceding the war I ever
heard any Southern man concede to the Repub
lican party or its leaders any broad or patriotic
purpose or any conciliatory feeling toward the
South. Lincoln, Seward, Chase, Wade, Greeley —
in fact, all the Republican leaders — were denounced
as South-haters who at heart rejoiced even at the
lunatic blood-thirstiness of John Brown, and as men
who would, if they dared to do so, incite and encou
rage servile insurrection, murder and rapine to ac
complish the destruction of slavery, regardless of the
terror or suffering which might be inflicted thereby
upon their white brethren in the Southem States.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 71
The Southem masses had unquestionably been
wrought up to this belief when they voted in
favour of their respective States seceding from
the Union. So believing, they were fully justified
in making the effort.
It is easy to say that the South was in the
wrong, and, admitting it, it does not wipe out the
fact that the Northern people themselves were
far from blameless in that they countenanced and
even encouraged the doing and the saying of many
things in public and in private which gave colour
to the popular apprehensions in the South.
For this reason I have never felt called upon to
defend my section for attempting to secede.
The South may have been as arrogant and domi
neering as Northern writers represent her, but
there was enough of arrogance and bad blood in
the North to make Southem men desire to dissolve
political partnership with her. The right to
secede was always a debatable one, with the pre
ponderance of logic favouring the abstract right,
and sentiment, rhetoric, eloquence and the hope
of National greatness all opposed.
It is all easy enough now to see that the Nation
is greater and more prosperous than either could
possibly have been if two nations had been
formed from it. But much of its greatness is the
result of the great war, and it would not have
achieved it if the war had not happened. It is
easy, too, to moralise now about the way in which

72 RECOLLECTIONS OF
the conflict might have been avoided but for the
ambitious designs of this man or that, or this
set of men or that. Undoubtedly it might have
been avoided if men had been angels. But the
quarreling over the things that led to the war
had gone on so long and had been so acrimonious
that a good blood-letting was the only way to put
an end to it. When at last the fight did come,
and the North proceeded to coerce the South, the
attitude of the Northern man who sided with the
South was not a whit more peculiar or unnatural
than that of the Southerner who sided with the
North. It required a great deal more of explana
tion to justify the action of such than it did to
justify those who maintained their natural affilia
tions. Unquestionably there were good men from
beth sections who adhered to the cause of the
opposite section. But there were not many of
that kind on either side. As a class those who
took sides against their own section were a sorry
lot, both North and South, and both sides know
it, whether they confess the fact or not.
For myself I am glad I sided with the South.
I do not mean to imply by this that, after all,
things did not tum out for the best. But the
Southem side was mine, naturally, and I would
rather have been whipped fighting for and with
my friends than have aided in such a bitter and
blood-thirsty struggle against them. In after

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 73
years I became identified with a political party
which is opposed by the great mass of my old
Confederate comrades. But that is quite a differ
ent matter. It is not like fighting them and
shedding their blood.
It only means that conceming political policies
and current events I believe that I have more
common sense than they have. They do not
think so now, but the time will come when they
will find out that I was in the right and they were
in the wrong. But quarrel as we may about the
things of the present, they cannot deny my
Confederate brotherhood with them, nor can
they rob me, if in their wrath they would attempt
it, of the pride I have in the fact that I was a
Confederate soldier. Whatever else we may have
lost in that struggle, we gave the world Robert E.
Lee, and he led an army with a record of valour
that will preserve its memory as long as the world
counts courage and self-sacrifice among the noblest
traits of men.
So let not my reader expect to hear from me any
explanations or regrets about my having been
a so-called Rebel. That is just what I was, and
while I do not want to flaunt the fact offensively
in the face of anybody who felt differently, I
must admit that to this day I am proud of my
record as a follower of Lee.
All that was a long time ago, and those who
felt most bitterly about it are now reconciled,

74 RECOLLECTIONS OF
but there is one exception to the general amnesty
of the Northern mind which I cannot for the
life of me understand, and that is why, when
the Northern people seem to have forgiven all
other Confederates, they stiU in some indefinable
way and for some inexplicable reason cherish a
grudge against Mr. Davis, as if he were called
upon to make vicarious atonement for the sins
of aU the rest of us. What did he do that keeps
him without the pale of Northem charity? He
certainly was not so pre-eminently great that
he led his people against their will. He was not
so popular that he might mislead them. He was
neither so good that he did the North unusual
damage, nor so bad that he excited their special
vengeance. Their attitude toward him only ex
cites sympathy among his old comrades, with
whom he was never a favourite, and makes a soft
place for him in the heart of every ex-Confederate.
Mr. Davis was never a particular friend to me
or mine. I never believed he was a very great
man, or even the best President the Confederate
States might have had. But he was our President.
Whatever shortcomings he may have had, he was
a brave, conscientious and loyal son of the South.
He did his best, to the utmost of his ability, for the
Southem cause. He, without being a whit worse
than the rest of us, was made to suffer for us as
was no other man in the Confederacy. And
through it all he never, to the day of his death,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 75
failed to maintain the honour and the dignity of
the trust confided to his keeping.
Yet the North seems not to have forgiven him.
For that very reason I cherish his memory with
peculiar tenderness. After forty years of renewed
loyalty to our re-united country, in which I have
battled for the acceptance in good faith by the
Southem people of the results of the war; after
seeing, with loyal pride, my sons bearing to
victory the flag against which I fought, I feel that
I have a right to stand up anywhere and demand
for the memory of Jefferson Davis just as much
kindness, just as much charity and just as much
forgiveness as is accorded to the memories of
Lee or Johnston or any of the great Confederate
heroes. I believe that his courageous and constant
soul is at rest in a heaven somewhere provided
for brave and loyal spirits whose reward does not
depend upon success, or even upon whether they
were in fact right or wrong, but upon their having
striven in this world for what they believed was
right according to the power God gave them to see
the right. And that is what I believe Mr. Davis
did. The first time I ever saw him was in the summer
of 1862, after the battle of Seven Pines and before
the seven days' battles around Richmond.
In 1 86 1 the Third Alabama Regiment was
encamped near our home, "RoUeston," near Nor
folk. Taken altogether, it was the finest regiment

76 RECOLLECTIONS OF
I ever saw. When Norfolk was evacuated in the
spring of 1862 all the Confederate troops there
assembled, including this regiment under the
command of General Huger, were transferred to
the command of General Joseph E. Johnston on
the peninsula between the York and the James.
The brigade of which the Third Alabama
formed a part was hotly engaged in the battle of
Seven Pines, and the Third bore the brunt of the
fighting. By one of those blundering assaults so
common in the early stages of the war the Colonel, '
Tenant Lomax, and many other officers and men
who were our personal friends were killed.
Being in Richmond in June, 1862, and learning
that the Third Alabama held a point on our line
where it crossed the nine-mile road, I rode down
there one afternoon to look after a number of old
friends. The change in the appearance of the
camp and men from what they were in their
princely quarters in the entrenched camp at
Norfolk was sad enough.
McClellan's army was at that time east and
north of Richmond, divided by the Chickahominy.
That stream runs parallel to the James, about
four miles north of the City of Richmond. The
land lying between the two streams is a high
plateau, which terminates in a sharp decUne into
the vaUey of the Chickahominy. Beyond the
Chickahominy the land rises again into a series of
hiUs. On the crest of one of those hiUs a mile

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 77
beyond the Chickahominy stands the little village
of Mechanicsville, with a straight broad turnpike
running southward from it across the stream to
Richmond, five miles distant. From the hills
about Mechanicsville, and even from the village
itself, the spires of Richmond are plainly visible.
The left wing of McClellan's army, under Generals
Keyes and Heintzelman, was fortified east of
Richmond and south of the Chickahominy. His
right wing, under Fitz John Porter, crossed the
Chickahominy, pressed forward beyond the left
wing and occupied Mechanicsville, facing south
ward. The hills on the Richmond side of the
stream were strongly fortified by the Confederates,
while those on the Mechanicsville side swarmed
with Federal soldiery. In the valley between the
two armies, along the borders of the sluggish
stream, was a heavily wooded swamp, half a mile
wide, which rendered it impossible for either army
to attack the other save by certain bridges and
causeways across the stream located at long dis
tances from each other. But the opposing forces
were plainly visible to each other over the tree-
tops in the swamp, and the distance between the
crests of the hills does not exceed a mile or a mile
and a half. The combatants frequently engaged
in artillery duels from these hill crests. Attracted
by the sounds of the firing as I was returning
from my visit to the Alabama regiment, I rode with
a party of friends to Strawberry HiU, the home

78 RECOLLECTIONS OF
of a Mr. Edmtmds, and witnessed one of these
beautiful contests. Our battery was commanded
by the late Lindsay Walker, afterward a Brigadier-
General of Artillery. A Federal battery of six
guns was in position upon a hill to the west of the
woods at Mechanicsville. A military balloon swung
high above those woods, and we could see the
signal men wig-wagging the effects of the Federal
shots. The men serving the Union guns looked
like little black ants moving about upon the hill
side. We could see their flags planted near the
battery. While no infantry supports were in
sight, the numbers of men watching at different
points were sufficient to satisfy anyone that there
were camps a-plenty behind the hills. The
Federal guns seemed to be of much longer range
than ours, but our marksmanship was far the best.
Their rifled shells came high over our battery
with a vicious scream, and went half a mile or
more beyond, while our shots seldom carried over
the hilltops. Several of our shells seemed to
burst right in the Federal battery, but, so far
as we could see, hurt nobody.
A large party of Federals, apparently a general
officer and his staff, appeared at a point of observa
tion. Walker turned one of his guns upon them,
and the shot was so weU directed that our men
stood on the breast works and cheered as the
party galloped away. Another discharge of Fed
eral shells made our men scramble down to cover

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 79
behind the embankment. These noisy demon
strations were harmless as a rule, but they were
very inspiring to youngsters who had never seen
anything of war. When we had seen enough and
were about to start for home we had another
treat in store for us. The evening was fine and
the noise extraordinary, which had combined to
bring President Davis out to the lines. We met
him and his staff riding on horseback as we
were returning to the city. We drew up and
saluted as they passed. I had a good look at Mr.
Davis. He was a striking looking man. He
was well mounted and sat his horse well. He
was thin and wiry looking. He had been a
gallant officer in the Mexican War, and I believe
he delighted in military service and prided himself
upon his martial appearance. Who were with
him I do not know. I did not then know and in
fact, in many interviews with him afterward, never
observed that Mr. Davis had lost the sight of one
of his eyes. I have a vague remembrance that
his handsome always courteous young secretary,
Burton Harrison, was of the party. Those were
the brave and hopeful days of the Confederacy,
and the last we heard of him that day was the
cheering in some of the camps which he was
visiting. The last time I ever saw the late Dr. Hunter
McGuire, Stonewall Jackson's Medical Director
and warm personal friend, he told me an incident

8o RECOLLECTIONS OF
in the lives of Jackson and Davis which occurred
about this time. It may be that Dr. McGuire
has told it in some of his own writings. If so, he
has doubtless told it better than I shaU, for he
was a charming raconteur. Our friendship ex
tended over nearly forty years. This story illus
trates the characteristics of both Mr. Davis and
General Jackson so thoroughly that I shall give
it, even if it has been told elsewhere, regretting
that I cannot fix the precise spot at which the
first part of the story was located.
Doctor McGuire said that after the hardest
fighting at the first battle of Manassas, where
Stonewall Jackson was wounded in the hand, he
was bandaging Jackson's hand. It was on the
porch of a little store at the crossing of a stream.
From my knowledge of the battlefield I think it
must have been where the Sudley road crosses
Young's branch near the Warrenton pike. At
any rate the tide of battle had then tumed in
favour of the Confederates, and Jackson had taken
time to have his wound dressed. About the
place were a large number of men awaiting their
tum, most of them wounded, some of them
stragglers no doubt. But Jackson knew the
situation thoroughly and was not feeling alarmed
about their presence. Just then a horseman in
civilian's dress, greatly excited, dashed up and,
reining his horse in the stream, rose in his stirrups
and began an impassioned appeal to the men,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 8i
begging them not to give up the fight; assuring
them that they were not whipped; that the
enemy was in retreat; and that if they would not
act like cowards and cravens victory was assured.
He then proclaimed himself to be President
Davis. It seems that Mr. Davis, having arrived
upon the field and hearing of the reverses
of the moming but not of our subsequent successes,
had dashed forward and, seeing this throng of
apparent stragglers, was seeking to rally them
and induce them to return to battle. Doctor
McGuire said that neither he nor General Jackson
had ever seen Mr. Davis before, and that he had
no idea who he was until he announced himself.
But he made that announcement too late
to influence General Jackson's action. Upon
hearing Mr. Davis's outburst Jackson literally
flung aside the bandages he was placing on his
hand and, with more excitement than he ever
saw him show before or afterward, advanced
quickly toward Davis saying, "What is all this
fuss about? These men are not cowards. These
men are not deserters. These men are not
stragglers. They are my men and are mostly
wounded. We are not hard pressed. We have
whipped the Yankees and the fighting is over.
Who are you, sir?"
"I am President Davis, sir. Who are you?"
"I am General Jackson, sir," said Jackson, now
realising the situation and saluting. Then he

82 RECOLLECTIONS OF
calmly retumed to have his wound dressed, and
Mr. Davis departed for some other part of the
field. Jackson was evidently very indignant at
the imputation cast upon his men, and Mr. Davis
evidently did not like the language or the manner
of his subordinate. McGuire said that in aU
their subsequent intercourse Jackson never alluded
to this episode but once, but it was plain to him
that the grim old Presbyterian fighter was not an
admirer of Davis.
Now for the sequel. McGuire said that one
night, near Malvern Hill, during the seven days'
battles. General Jackson asked him to accompany
him to General Lee's headquarters. He had no
idea what the occasion was to be, but always
Uked to gratify the General. Upon arriving at
General Lee's headquarters they found him and
General Longstreet. Lee, Longstreet and Jackson
soon had out the maps and were conning them
together most fraternally, discussing the best
method of attack on the morrow. He said
Jackson was devoted to Lee and had great con
fidence in Longstreet; that they were all deeply
interested in the subject they were discussing and
unreserved in their exchange of thoughts and
suggestions. He, of course, took no part in the
council, but felt gratification that the leaders of
our army were so harmonious. Suddenly a com
motion was heard on the outside, and a moment
later President Davis appeared unannounced.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 83
He entered smiling and said, "General Lee, you
see I have followed you up. I became so anxious
that I could not remain in Richmond." General
Lee greeted him cordially, shook his hand and
bade him welcome. Then Mr. Davis shook hands
with Longstreet, whom he knew well, and turned
with a look of hesitation to General Jackson,
whom he did not seem to recognise. " Why, Presi
dent," said General Lee, omitting the "Mister," a
fact which McGuire commented upon, " Don't
you know who that is? That's General Jackson.
That's our Stonewall." The President evidently
had not recognised General Jackson. Jackson
had never been much in the East since Manassas.
After Manassas he had retumed to the valley and
actively operated there until he was moved east
by General Lee to co-operate in the attack on
McClellan's flank about ten days before this
meeting. Moreover he was not such an imposing
figure that men thought when they looked at
him "this must be a hero." On the contrary,
he was anything but a fancy picture, in his old
slouch hat and with his straggling beard, well-
worn coat, rough cow-skin, muddy boots, and
with his big awkward feet and hands. When he
stood up he looked as if he was sprung in the-
knees. Hearing who he was, Mr. Davis's face lit
with a smile of enthusiasm, imparted by the
¦ cordial reference of General Lee to Jackson's
services, and apparently would have shaken his

84 RECOLLECTIONS OF
hand. But General Jackson drew himself up into the
best military attitude he could assume, gave him a
formal military salute, and stood there motionless,
¦while the smile died out on the face of Mr. Davis.
Evidently General Jackson remembered certain
disagreeable correspondence which had at one
time impelled him to tender his resignation, and
we may be sure that Mr. Davis did not misunder
stand his frigidity. Jackson went into his shell
completely after Davis's arrival, and took no part
in the subsequent discussions. He soon withdrew,
and McGuire, on their way back to their own
quarters, remarked to him, "General, I am
surprised that you and Mr. Davis have not met
before." "Never," was the laconic reply. Then,
after a pause, Jackson added, with the quiet
chuckle in which he sometimes indulged, " Except
that time when we both saw him at Manassas."
Soon after this I went away to the great Con
federate Military School at Lexington, and never
saw President Davis again until the latter part of
May, 1864. Then he was my hero, and I was
one of his heroes. The Corps of Cadets of the
Virginia Military Institute was caUed upon in
emergency to serve with Breckinridge in the
Shenandoah Valley. Our army met the forces
of Seigel May 15, 1864, at New Market in Shenan
doah, and we gave him such a thorough thrashing
that Grant telegraphed to Washington " Seigel is
whipped again."

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 85
The Cadet Corps greatly distinguished itself.
We lost eight killed and forty-six wounded out of
two hundred and twenty -five in action, in a
fight of about four hours' duration.
I was seventeen years and four months old
when I received my first wound, and was as
proud as Napoleon at Austerlitz. It was a
slight wound, and I rejoined the command in
Staunton on its march up the valley. We were
ordered to Richmond. On our way we passed
immediately in rear of Lee's army, moving
parallel to Grant's. When we stopped at Hanover
Junction we could hear the firing along the line
of the North Anna River, and our train was sur
rounded by Stonewall Jackson's old division, rest
ing at mid-day, on its march to confront Grant's
flank movement from Spottsylvania to Cold Har
bour. At Richmond we were put in camp in what
was then known as Camp Lee. It is now the Ex
position grounds. We were reviewed on the Cap
itol Square by President Davis, the Governor of
Virginia, and others. Mr. Davis was very compli
mentary of the gallantry of the Corps, but greatly
deplored the necessity of putting us into service.
He used the simile that putting such youths into
service was like "using up the seed com of the
Confederacy," and it was widely commented on in
the papers North and South. But the taste of
war it gave us made many of us resign and accept
commissions as " Drill Masters, with the pay and

86 RECOLLECTIONS OF
emolument of 2nd Lieutenant in the Provisional
Army of the Confederate States." That is rather
a high-sounding office for so smaU an employment,
but at the time I was proud of it. I spent the
autumn of 1864 in southwest Virginia drilling
reserve regiments composed of men over forty-
five and boys under eighteen. It was a hard
thing to make men old enough to be my father
and boys younger than myself look alike and
march alike. We had a battle at the Salt Works
with Burbridge that November and repulsed him
handsomely. Then I was ordered to report to
Major Boggs, commanding the artillery defences
on the line of the Richmond and Danville Railroad
from Richmond to Danville. I was his adjutant.
We had no end of guns. We had batteries at
Mattoax, High Bridge, Staunton River, Danville,
and I do not remember how many other points.
I think there were, in all, at these numerous points
about one hundred heavy guns. To man them
we had about one hundred men. As each point
on the line was threatened we concentrated our
men there; and before preparing to shoot the
enemy we had to clear away the grass from
about the guns and clean the birds' nests out of
the muzzles, for between times the guns took
care of themselves. I had several opportunities,
upon visits to Richmond, during that winter to
see Mr. Davis. The war had aged him very much.
I remember calling upon him officially, in company

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 87
with my father upon one occasion, to see him about
some promotions in my father's brigade. Mr.
Davis was very civil and kind, but seemed to me
to have realized then that our struggle could only
be successful by a miracle. I think everybody
believed he was unselfishly devoted to the cause
and gave him credit for doing the best he knew
how for our success, but candour compels the
statement that he was not as popular as he might
have been, and that such faith as was left in our
success pinned itself to our armies in the field and
their great commanders. General Lee was adored
by our people, and, notwithstanding many retreats
and failures, the people of the South believed in the
greatness and capacity of General Joseph E.
Johnston as second only to Lee.
President Davis's action in removing General
Johnston before Atlanta was deeply resented by
the Confederate masses, and, while everybody
regarded Hood as the bravest of the brave, people
did not believe he had the ability to command the
Southem Army. It is true that General Johnston
was a hard man to deal with ; but speaking merely
of public sentiment, as I saw it and heard it,
the feeling was that Mr. Davis was not only
unfriendly to Johnston but that he was surrounded
by an old army clique who felt the same way, and
that he was influenced by them.
Mr. Davis had the credit, justly or unjustly, of
having a particular set of favourites and advisers;

88 RECOLLECTIONS OF
of not having the faculty of taking all his leaders
into his confidence; in a word, of not being a
"mixer," as Mr. Lincoln was; of esteeming those
who were in his particular circle too highly and
underrating the capacity and the influence of
those not in his coterie. For instance, it was gener
ally believed that Mr. Davis set too high an
estimate upon General Bragg and General Hardee,
and that he was too prone to overlook the merits
of anybody else until he had exhausted every
effort to secure a West-Pointer. Then, too, among
the army officers themselves, there was a feeling
that he had brought over with him a great many
old prejudices, inherited from the long standing
feud between the line and the staff which arose
when he was Secretary of War. Mr. Davis was
by his first marriage son-in-law of General Zachary
Taylor. It may not be generally known that
there was considerable jealousy between General
Taylor and General Winfield Scott; that even
in the time of Mr. Davis's incumbency of the War
Office the conflict between the Adjutant-General's
Office and the General of the Army arose; and
that General Lee was the most beloved subordinate
of General Scott. The conflict continued in the
United States Army from that time until the
creation of the General Staff. It was so flagrant
when General Sherman was Commanding General
that he removed his headquarters to St. Louis,
and we all remember what a time we had between

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 89
Adjutant-General Corbin and General Miles during
the Spanish War.
It seems amusing that the same controversy was
transferred to the Confederacy, and that the es
trangements and jealousies begotten by it should
have continued to be felt there. Yet it was
generally believed to be so. Justly or unjustly,
it detracted from the popularity of Mr. Davis.
The next occasion upon which I met Mr. Davis
was when Richmond was evacuated. My station
was at Clover, a depot on the line between Rich
mond and Danville. In another book I have
described how I first heard of the evacuation of
the city, and how train after train passed by
Clover laden with the debris of the burning
capitol. Early on the morning of Tuesday,
April, 5th, as I stood upon the platform, I caught
sight of my brother-in-law. Doctor Gamett, upon
a train. Going to speak to him, I found he was
with President Davis. He was Mr. Davis's family
physician. Among the others on the train I
only recall General Bragg and, if I mistake not.
Colonel Archer Anderson of Richmond, who
was in some way connected with his staff. Mr.
Davis was very pale and weary looking, but was
exceedingly gentle and gracious, and as the train
moved away quickly I had little or no conversation
with him.
Five days later I reported to him in Danville
at the home of the late Major William T. Sutherlin.

go RECOLLECTIONS OF
I was bearer of the last despatch he ever received
from General Lee. In another book I have
described the circumstances under which I was
sent in to communicate with General Lee, and the
trials and tribulations of that trip. Suffice it to
say here that, having reached General Lee and
received his communication at Farmville, I rode
back to Danville and delivered my despatches to
President Davis in person. It was the first com
munication he had received from General Lee
since he had left Richmond. He mentions my
visit in his book. A number of the members of
his Cabinet were present when he questioned me
conceming the location and condition of General
Lee's army. I knew the condition of the army
was very bad; that we had sustained a severe
defeat and the loss of many prisoners at Sailors'
Creek; that the army had been pressed off its
proposed line of retreat by the route of the Dan
ville railroad and was retiring along the Southside
road toward Lynchburg; and that the cavalry of
the enemy was already considerably ahead of it
on its flank. Pressed for my own convictions, I ex
pressed the fear that it must surrender. But I fear
that my estimate of the number of troops remaining
to General Lee must have shaken the faith of Mr.
Davis in my other statements, for I thought General
Lee still had 30,000 men left, whereas he had not
many more than that when he left Petersburg, and
when he surrendered he had but 8,000 muskets,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 91
I shall never forget the courtesy and patience
with which Mr. Davis conducted his examination
of me, or his fatherly interest in seeing that I
was fed and cared for when he learned what a
trying journey I had made. He gave me retum
despatches the following morning and I started
with them to General Lee, but I never delivered
them, for upon reaching Halifax Court House I
heard of his surrender and turned southward to
Johnston's army.
The next time I saw Mr. Davis was under very
changed conditions. I cannot fix the exact date
in my memory, and it is not sufficiently important
to hunt it up. During the war all my father's
household effects were transferred from our home
at RoUeston to Fortress Monroe. My father
would not take any step to obtain their restoration
because it involved taking some kind of oaths.
Finally the War Department gave an order for
their delivery to my mother, and I was selected
to go down to Fortress Monroe and receive them.
Being a very ardent and bumptious young rebel,
when I arrived at Old Point I registered at Phoebus 's
Hotel, wrote a formal letter to the general com
manding announcing my arrival, and asked at
what hour I might present myself and my orders,
identify my property and receive it. At that
time the only hotel on the point was a little
building about forty feet square and two stories
high, built by Harrison Phoebus and called the

92 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Hygeia, after the old Hygeia which had been
destroyed. This house would not accommodate
over twenty people. Phoebus himself was express
agent, steamboat agent and general utility man
about the wharf, and lived in a little shack
built of cracker boxes in rear of his hotel. Many
a time I have seen him catch the landing rope from
the steamers. Afterward, on the site of his hotel
and house he built a splendid hotel, and at one
time had a net profit of $150,000 a year. He was
a prince of hosts and made me feel at home
in his little hotel while I awaited a repl}^ from
General Hays, the Commandant. Meanwhile, in
my mind I had been figuring out how formal and
dignified the interview would be with the officer
in charge of my property.
Suddenly the door was flung wide open and a
handsome young blond officer, dressed in the
height of army style, stalked in with a free and
easy air, exclaiming in a loud voice, "Hello,
Phoebus! Is there a young chap named Wise
somewhere about here?" Phoebus introduced us.
"Hello Wise!" said he. "Glad to see you!
Come ahead, let's have a drink, quick." And
before I could catch my breath he had me by the
hand and was dragging me to the bar in a little
side room. It was Lieutenant Wallace F. Ran
dolph of Philadelphia, then serving on General
Hays's staff. The gentleman has recently been
retired with rank of Major General, for old age.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 93
He was then the jolUest, liveliest soul in the army,
and as pretty food for gunpowder as ever my eyes
rested upon. It was the beginning of a life-long
friendship, and in Cuba his attachment transferred
itself from me to my oldest boy, a subaltern under
him, and about the age dear old "Wally" Ran
dolph was when we first met. His tongue went
on like a policeman's rattle. " Glad to see you,
Wise. Know all about you — first thing I remem
ber was seeing the whole City of Philadelphia in
mourning for your old grandfather. Say, have
another drink. No? That's strange! Well, come
on. ' Old Billy ' wants you to come straight to
the house. He is a warm admirer of your father,
and Mrs. Hays knows all your mother's people.
Can't go? Well, I guess you will. This is no
place for a white man to stay. Don't be afraid
you'll leave the liquor behind. Old Billy loves
it as well as anybody and has a-plenty of it
at his house. Besides, we can stop on the way
up and get some at the Officers' Club. Oh, I
don't want to hear any more of that talk. Come
on. We'll be late for dinner. Phoebus, send
Wise's baggage up to the General's."
Randolph went at me like a whirlwind, and
before I knew it I was accompanying him, in spite
of all protests, to become the guest of General
Hays. He was a charming host and his wife a lovely
woman. They did everything to make my stay

94 RECOLLECTIONS OF
pleasant. General Hays, or "Old Billy," as
everybody called him, was then an elderly man,
and prior to the CivU War had been an ardent
admirer of my father in his great campaign against
Know-Nothingism. I was astonished to hear his
familiarity with my father's career and speeches.
In the Civil War General Hays commanded the
" loo guns " on Malvern Hill, with which McClellan
held Lee in check and covered the retirement of
the Federal army to Harrison's landing. The old
fellow was now enjoying the otium cum dignitate
of peace and showed the effect of high living.
There was nothing he could do to help me collect
my father's things that was omitted. I think he
would have given me a piece of the fort if I
had claimed it. And as for Randolph, he was the
jolUest, the readiest, the most willing companion
I had met in years.
"Would you like to call upon Mr. Davis?"
said the General the following moming. Assured
that I would, he told me I might do so. There
were no formalities about it. An order on a
visiting card, directing all sentinels to allow me
to pass, gave me access to the quarters where Mr.
Davis lived. He occupied at that time a suite
of casemate rooms on the southeast face of the
fort, somewhere near to the flag-staff. They
are quarters which, ever since I have known the
fort, have been officers' quarters.
Mr. and Mrs. Davis were both there then. I

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 95
visited them unaccompanied by anybody. They
were a little surprised, I think, at seeing a Southern
friend come up so boldly, but they seemed gratified
also, and were most kind in their welcome. Mr.
Davis was more gracious than I ever saw him.
He took my hand between both of his and smilingly
said, "Why, Captain, I am delighted to see you,"
and I checked him laughingly by replying, "Ah,
Mr. President, you mock me with a title you never
gave me when you might have done so. I was
only a lieutenant, and it's too late now." Both
he and Mrs. Davis laughed heartily at the conceit,
and he said, " Well, you ought to have been a
captain anyhow."
Then we had a real good heart-to-heart old-
fashioned talk, and what rejoiced me most was
the prospect that he was soon to be released.
He was looking remarkably well, and his only
complaint was that the dampness of the location
inclined him to rheumatism. Soon after that I
think his quarters were changed to Carroll
Hall. But everywhere is damp in Fortress
Monroe. I enjoyed that visit. When it was over I felt
nearer to Mr. Davis and appreciated what he had
done and suffered for the Confederate cause more
than I had ever done before.
I am sure I saw him when he came to Richmond
afterward and Horace Greeley became one of his
bondsmen. I think he was the guest of Mr.

96 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Lyons, but I have no distinct recollection
about it.
But the memory of Mr. Davis which impresses
me as much as any other is of his visit to Richmond
in 1875, when the statue of Stonewall Jackson was
unveiled. That was a most memorable occasion.
Mr. Davis delivered an address before the Society
of the Army of Northem Virginia the night after
the unveiling. He spoke in the Presbyterian
Church which stood on the site of the present
City Hall in Richmond. I had heard much of his
eloquence but had never heard him speak but once,
and then under very favourable circumstances.
The speech he delivered in 1875 was one of the
very best and one of the most eloquent speeches
I ever heard. Moreover it was in singularly good
taste, free from all reproaches or bad blood or
recrimination. Reduced to its last analysis, it
said, " God knows we believed we were right.
We did everything that men could do to maintain
our convictions. Our times are in His hands.
Let us accept the results without murmur. But
above all, let us never cease to honour and maintain
the glory of our dead."
Say what anybody will about Mr. Davis, his
conduct from the end of the war to the time of
his death was irreproachable; irreproachable, too,
under strains which were very hard to bear.
He was superbly silent under reproaches that
were unjust, tantalising and oftentimes ineffably

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 97
mean. It distresses me to this day whenever I
hear anybody speak disparagingly of this man,
who was unquestionably devoted to the cause
for which he lived and died, and who was infinitely
greater than his traducers.

ANDREW JOHNSON

V.-ANDREW JOHNSON
If anybody had told me during the gloomy,
embittered, humiliating time of Andrew Johnson's
Presidency that he would " dance at my wedding "
I am sure I would have repelled the suggestion
as altogether improbable and revolting. Yet,
while Andrew Johnson did not dance, nor did any
body else dance at that good Presbyterian function,
he was there, and probably the most conspicuous
individual present.
The older people, by whom I was surrounded and
from whose opinions mine were formed, were
shocked at the death of Mr. Lincoln and regarded
it as a dire disaster from several points of view.
It not only deprived the Southern people in our
hour of need of that charity and desire for restored
fraternity which they were already beginning to
recognise as prominent characteristics of Mr.
Lincoln, but it embittered the Northem people
against us to a degree that they never felt before.
It elevated to his place, amidst this excitement and
vindictiveness, a man who was believed by every
body in the South to be vengeful by nature and to
cherish a life-long grudge against that class of South
em people which, in all his political campaigns, he
had never faUed to denounce as the " aristocracy."

I02 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Mr. Johnson's very remarkable career in Ten
nessee was, from its beginning, based upon the
strong, fierce, aggressive appeal to what he was
pleased to call the "masses" against the other
elements Of the community denominated by him
as the "classes."
The Whig party of Tennessee, as parties were
aligned for many years before the outbreak of
the Civil War, was not only strong but, as far
as such a thing may be in a democracy, the patri
cian organisation of the State. Under the leader
ship of John Bell it was a Union party, but it was
exceedingly conservative upon the slavery ques
tion, and embraced in its ranks the bulk of the
property owners and educated classes of the
State. It was indeed the highest type of that con
servative Federal loyalty, of which Henry Clay
in his day was the idol in the West. Its opponent
was the party of Andrew Jackson, or " Old Hick
ory," as he was universally called in Tennessee;
a party which was strong and oftentimes victor
ious. But the personnel of General Jackson's
party was nothing like so distinguished as that of
the Whigs of Tennessee. The old Whig organisa
tion, under the leadership of Clay and BeU, had
a contempt for the democracy and looked upon
it as the struggle of the rabble clamouring against
the better elements of society.
Andrew Jackson was in his day unquestionably

Photograph by Brady Sc Co.
ANDREW JOHNSON
Th/i seventeenth president of the United States (1865-69)

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 103
one of the greatest politicians this country ever
produced, and he possessed a hold upon the imag
ination and the affections of the masses of the
people, not only in his own State but throughout
the whole country, which no other man has ever
had unless it be the present incumbent of the
White House. His following came from the
common people, who believed that in him they
saw the embodiment of their ideas of real democ
racy. They believed that he had a true conception
of the proper relations between the States and
Federal Government. They were captivated by
his personal courage, his military prowess and his
political resourcefulness. They ridiculed the idea
so strongly put forth by his opponents that he
was a tyrant and a despot for asserting the power
of the Federal Government to maintain -its own
authority, and they had an abiding faith that he
loved the rights of the common people and the
masses too sincerely to permit those rights to be
infringed upon either by unwarranted Federal
usurpation or by class legislation in the States.
They pinned their faith to Andrew Jackson as the
true embodiment of a Federal Democrat. As
long as he lived he was almost invincible in Tennes
see. After the death of General Jackson, however,
the State of Tennessee for some time lacked a
successor to him on the Democratic side powerful
enough to cope with the stubborn efforts for control
never relinquished by the wealthy and powerful

I04 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Whig organisation of the State. Nobody has yet
appeared in Tennessee to take the place of Andrew
Jackson, but Andrew Johnson certainly possessed
some very virile characteristics and made a deep
impression upon his time. He grew up an obscure
and ignorant boy of the very humblest, and
possibly even doubtful, antecedents, of that class
of people known in the South as " poor whites " ; he
drifted from North Carolina into Tennessee,
where his youth was spent in the little village of
Greenville. To people of his station the wealthy
homes of the Whigs were virtually closed. How
they lived, what their homes contained, their
social point of view, their political ideals, were
matters about which people of his class were even
more ignorant than were the negroes themselves.
The latter in the capacity of household servants
saw and heard something of these things, while
to the poor whites they were almost, if not abso
lutely, unknown. Johnson's affiliation with the
party of the people, as Democracy was called, was
natural, for there was an impassable social gulf
between him and the aristocracy, as the old
Whig nabobs were denominated. He doubtless
regarded them as a proud, disdainful race who
looked down upon him, and he doubtless thought
that their views of political administration were
all tinged by motives of selfishness rather than by
any interest in the elevation of the common people
or kindliness to his class. It was this feeling, no

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 105
doubt, which made the masses of the poor Southem
whites Democrats in those days.
Andrew Johnson began life as a tailor in the
little town of Greenville in East Tennessee, and the
story of his ignorance and lack of advantages
has been too often told to need repetition here.
His wife actually taught him to read, it is said.
It must have been a cheerless and unhappy ex
istence if he was ambitious, for the task of sur
mounting the difficulties which confronted him
must have seemed almost hopeless. In time, how
ever, he became Town Councilman, Mayor, Mem
ber of the Legislature, Governor and Vice-President
and President. During the time of his boyhood
there lived in the same town with him an orphaned
Virginia boy, of about his own age, who was his
very opposite in his social antecedents. His
name was Hugh Douglas, and he was what
Walter Scott describes as "a penniless laird wi'
a lang pedigree." His grandfather, WiUiam Doug
las, a cadet of the house of Douglas of Garallan in
Ayrshire, went to Virginia one hundred years
before and became a prominent man in Loudoun
County, and his mother was a Beverley, connected
with all the old Virginia Byrds, Blands, Randolphs,
Corbins and what not. Left an impoverished
orphan while he was yet a small boy, he had been
sent to a paternal aunt in Greenville, and was a
clerk in the store of his uncle, who was one of the
village nabobs.

io6 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Although their antecedents were so different
their lonely situation was much the same, and a
warm friendship grew up between Andy Johnson
and Hugh Douglas. Many a day they met and
for lack of other employment talked politics
together, and, although one was a disciple of
Clay and the other a follower of Jackson, these
political differences never interfered with their
boyish friendship.
Andy Johnson made for Hugh Douglas the
first suit of man's clothes he ever wore. As they
grew up their lots in life separated them. Young
Douglas was energetic and successful and estab
lished a business of his own in a distant town.
Young Johnson entered upon a career of poli
tics. Both prospered, and some years before the
war Douglas moved to Nashville and became one
of the merchant princes of that place. John
son also moved to Nashville, having become
the leader of the Anti-Know-Nothing party in
Tennessee, and was elected Governor of the
State. At Nashville their boyish friendship was
renewed and cemented. Mr. Douglas made it a
point to send Mr. Johnson every year upon his
birthday a box of the same kind of the old-
fashioned red bandana handkerchiefs which they
had both used when they were boys in Greenville.
Perhaps no act of kindness which he ever did, and
he did a great many, ever so well repaid him, for
in time war broke out. Douglas was a Union man,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 107
but his great big heart was so generous that it
went out in sympathy to every human being on
this earth in need, so he helped the Confederate
soldiers with unstinted generosity to blankets and '
to every comfort of any kind possessed by him.
When the Union troops took possession of Nash
ville certain people would have arrested Mr.
Douglas and would have confiscated his property
and subjected him to all the penalties of the
times, as one who had given aid and comfort to
rebels, but it made no difference with Andrew
Johnson. He knew him, knew his loyalty, knew
the motives which had prompted his charities and
covered him with the asgis of his protection,
brought him through the war unmolested, and
even after it was over gave him his voluntary
testimony, whereby Mr. Douglas was enabled to
get compensation for the use and occupation of.
his property by Federal troops ; and the friendship
between the two lasted and was warm and generous
and kindly until death separated them, although
it was hard to define what they had in common
unless it was the memory of the cheerless and
common struggles of their boyhood.
These things came to my knowledge in later
years, when I married the daughter of Mr. Douglas,
but they were unknown to me when the war
ended and while Andrew Johnson was President.
Many was the day at that time when I heard
the Confederate I'eaders bemoan the hard fate

io8 RECOLLECTIONS OF
which had placed them at the mercy of Andrew
Johnson. He had given utterance to his re
pugnance to them on many public occasions ; had
declared that the Southem aristocracy would
stop at nothing to maintain their oligarchy; that
they had sought to destroy the Union, and had
dragged the loyal masses of the South into seces
sion with no higher motive than to perpetuate
their slave tyranny; and one of his first steps
after the war was ended was to issue a proclama
tion compelling all owners of property of the
value of twenty thousand dollars or more to
make special application to him for pardon. It
was believed that the motive of this requirement
was to add to their humiliation. This and many
other things prepared the Southem people to
find in him a revengeful and vindictive enemy.
One might hear in any gathering of Southern
men such expressions as " Expect mercy or
kindness from Andrew Johnson, because he is a
Southem man? Bah! He hates a Southem gen
tleman because he is himself a 'poor white.' He
has a life-long grudge against them. He is a sa7is-
culotte who would, if he could, erect a guillotine and
start the loaded tumbrels of the French Revolution
through the streets in Washington."' But in a
short while Johnson changed his whole attitude
toward the South — he became the advocate and
champion of liberal treatment of the Southerners.
This was when he had become embroiled with the

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 109
Radical leaders in Congress. His friendship for
the South then was more injurious, if possible,
than his former enmity had been, for the dominant
Radicals and Stalwarts, who impeached him, took
delight in harrowing the Southem people because
he announced himself as opposed to that policy.
Notwithstanding the long friendship between
Mr. Johnson and Mr. Douglas, Mr. Johnson had
never entered the house of Mr. Douglas prior to the
time of my marriage. The real reason for this
the ex-President did not perhaps know. Mrs.
Douglas was not only an aristocrat in her feelings
but was a very religious and strict Presbyterian.
She regarded Andy Johnson as the prince of
vulgarians, and his prominence in public life did not
in the least affect that firm and fixed opinion.
Moreover, he was reputed to be a drinking man,
which fact was of itself sufficient to bar him from
all precincts presided over by her. And so it had
come about that, notwithstanding many adroit
efforts made by Mr. Douglas in the past to over
come her prejudice and induce her to permit him
to entertain Johnson, she had until now stoutly
resisted and rejected every overture. Shortly
before my marriage, which occurred November
3, 1869, Mr. Douglas announced to me confiden
tially, evidently with great pride and satisfaction,
that President Johnson would be present at the
ceremony. How he overcame the scruples of his
wife I never learned, but at the appointed time

no RECOLLECTIONS OF
Mr. Johnson was there. It would have amused
anybody who knew of the struggle by which this
had been brought about to note the manner of
Mrs. Douglas toward her distinguished guest.
She was of course too refined to be rude to him
in her own house, but her whole bearing was that
of one who, while she had allowed him to appear,
had no idea of permitting him to become too
intimate, and who was apprehensive all the time
that he might do something extraordinarily terrible
at any moment. On the other hand, Mr. Douglas
was the soul of genial hospitality, was flattered
at the compliment of Mr. Johnson's presence, and
did everything in his power to show him his appre
ciation. Certainly nobody could have been more courte
ous or punctilious or have borne himself with more
dignity or decorum than did the ex-President.
He had a dull, stolid face, with hard cynical lines
about the mouth, but his manners were excellent
and his conversation both interesting and com
plimentary. To my surprise he gave, as the chief
reason for his coming, his desire to do honour to
my father, for whom he expressed great admira
tion. He explained that the Anti-Know-Nothing
campaign in Tennessee had followed almost im
mediately after that in Virginia; that antici
pating its coming he had devoted himself studi
ously to my father's campaign, with great inter
est and admiration, and that he had to a

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS

III

large extent modeUed his own campaign upon
that. After quite a lengthy talk, he begged me to
present his compliments to my father and to
assure him that notwithstanding all the interven
ing national differences he stiU had no warmer
admirer than himself for his briUiant victory in
1855. When I retumed to Virginia and reported
this interview to my father I think he heard the
account somewhat sheepishly, for to my certain
knowledge he had spent about four years of his
life, devoting about an hour a day, to denunciation
of Andy Johnson; and if the Recording Angel kept
tab upon his expletives it must have required a
special detail for the book-keeping work, and the
entries must have filled a volume.
My next sight of Mr. Johnson was probably a
year or so later, shortly before his death. It was
soon after his campaign before the Tennessee
Legislature for the Senate. At that time his habits
had become exceedingly dissipated, and one of his
peculiarities was that he appeared to select very
young men as his companions in his debauches.
His headquarters were at the Maxwell House at
that time. A band serenaded him and the street
was thronged with an immense crowd, cheering
and calling loudly for a speech. After a long
delay the ex-President appeared upon the hotel
balcony and acknowledged ¦ the compliment, but
his condition was such that he was totaUy unable
to speak coherently and, in fact, found diffictilty

112 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS
in keeping on his feet. It was a pitiful sight to
see him standing there, holding on to the iron
railing in front of him and swaying back and forth,
almost inarticulate with drink. With him at
the time was one of the wittiest and most impudent
youngsters I ever knew. He was a young Virgin
ian who had gone to Nashville to practise law
and had become the boon companion and intimate
of Mr. Johnson. He was himself very much under
the influence of liquor, and feeling that somebody
ought to speak and a sort of responsibility for ex-
President Johnson, he began an address which,
with its wild extravagance and maudlin absurdity,
convulsed the crowd with laughter until it grew
impatient and hooted him down. It was a
sight I shall never forget — the bloated, stupid,
helpless look of Mr. Johnson, as he was hurried
away from the balcony to his rooms by his friends
and led staggering through the corridors of the
Maxwell House. He died shortly after the occur
rence just related.

ULYSSES S. GRANT

VI.-ULYSSES S. GRANT
Although I had seen General Grant at a
distance on numerous occasions, it was seven or
eight years after the close of the CivU War before
I met him face to face, and then it was in a most
unusual way. Business called me to Long Branch,
where I saw the President every day driving
back and forth upon the avenues. On my way
home I took a sleeper in Philadelphia. It was
quite late, a hot night, and I was dirty. I
w ent into the lavatory of the sleeping car, removed
my coat and collar, and proceeded to give myself
a good scrubbing. While so engaged, a quiet man
slipped into the compartment and lit a cigar.
No one else was present, for nearly everybody else
on the car was asleep. Ours was the last sleeper,
and next to it was an excursion car filled with one
of the noisiest and jolUest of crowds. Men and
women were singing.
" My, what a noisy crowd," said I. " If they keep
that up we will not get much sleep." The remark
was made in the free and easy way in which one
traveller addresses another upon a train, and
without even looking closely at my companion.
"They are not going far, I think. It is an ex
cursion from Wilmington, I believe. I like to see

ii6 RECOLLECTIONS OF
them happy," was the prompt democratic reply.
Something in the voice or manner of the speaker
made me pause with the towel in my hands and
tum toward him. I knew the face. There was
no mistaking it. It was that of the President of
the United States. He was sitting there alone,
just as serene and devoid of self-consciousness as
any Bill Smith or Tom Jones in all America. I
looked at him incredulously, and he retumed my
glance steadily. "I beg your pardon," I stam
mered forth. " But — is this — General — President
Grant?" He nodded assent. "Again, I beg
your pardon, Mr. President. When I addressed
you so familiarly I had no idea who you were.
In fact, sir, one would not expect to meet  "
"That's all right," said he. "Don't explain it.
Glad to see you. I like a cigar before retiring,
and slipped in here to have a smoke. ' ' I introduced
myself. He asked me who I was and, when I told
him, said he knew all about my people. Then he
was wide awake. He began to ask me all sorts
of questions. Inquired if our people were getting
along all right now. Asked if we were satisfied
with the results of the war. Asked about certain
people he knew. Said he hoped the Southem
people would accept the results. Among other
things, I remember one expression which came
tmconnected with anything that preceded it.
It was — "The Southem newspapers have done
more harm than any other influence." People

ULYSSES S. GRANT
The eighteenth president of the United States (1S69 76).

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 117
have often said General Grant was a tacitum man.
I never found him so. He always talked to me,
and he always seemed to delight in putting ques
tions as fast as he could ask them. I was im
mensely flattered, for I was not over twenty-four
of twenty-five years of age. He said, among other
things, " I like to hear what people like you think."
Then he added, "Did you like amiy life?" "I
loved it. My heart was broken when I lost my job.
General," I repUed, laughingly. "I wish we had
a lot of you young fellows in the service now.
I believe it would be a great thing for restored
fraternity," said he. Then he added, "But
public sentiment is not ready for it yet."
"What are you doing for a living?"
"Practising law."
"Like it?"
"Yes, sir, but it is not as good fun as fighting."
And the President laughed, although they say
he was not much given to it.
I think we had passed Havre de Grace when
our real friendly private, almost intimate, talk was
ended. I would have remained all night with him
if he had permitted me, for he fascinated me. But
he had had enough of me and arose, saying,
"Good night, I'm glad I met you. You must
come to see me some time when you visit Wash
ington." He did not say "I like you," but I
thought he did, and he showed it in many ways,
on many occasions, afterward. And I liked him.

ii8 RECOLLECTIONS OF
He was one of the simplest, most genuine, direct
and manly men I ever saw.
About three weeks afterward I went into the
United States Court in Richmond to attend to
some business. A jury trial was in progress
before Judge Underwood. He beckoned to me
to come up and take a seat beside him, as judges
do when they want to talk with lawyers. Lean
ing over to me he said, in his slow, drawling way,
" I was in Washington a few days ago and saw
the President. He was asking [me about you.
Told me he met you on a train. You ought
to go to see him some time when you are there.
He likes you." I thanked him and was, of
course, most gratified. I wish I had had the
manhood to vote for Grant in 1872, but I did
not. Prejudice was so strong I could not brave
it. But I would not vote for Greeley. I simply
sneaked and stayed away from the polls. Went
hunting! The old trick.
After the interview referred to I went to see
General Grant, and he was very civil to me. It
.must have been several years later that I had an
amusing experience with him. It was during his
second term, when the prosecutions were going on
all over the country against the distillers and
rectifiers. I was employed to defend a man who
had been a large rectifier in Petersburg, and who was
charged with extensive frauds upon the revenue.
He was indicted, and the distillery was Ubeled in

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 119
the United States Circuit Court. I was retained
in both the civil and criminal cases. Judge
Lunsford L. Lewis was United States Attomey.
My poor old client was no doubt guilty. He was
of the class, quite prevalent in those days, that
beUeved it was fair to cheat the Govemment.
But a better hearted creature never Uved. He
had been a good soldier, and had but lately
married an exceUent wife and had a young chUd.
We had about five or six trials, and as many
hung juries. The Govemment had gone to great
expense preparing for the trial. First we would
try the criminal charge, and have a hung jury.
Then we would shift to a trial of the libel
against the distillery, with like result. Lewis
was pertinacious in his prosecution, feeling sure
of the man's guilt; and my whole soul was
concentrated upon his defence. The evidence
was substantially the same in both cases. Now,
the rule of law in a criminal case against a man is
that the evidence, in order to convict him, should
preponderate in favour of his guilt beyond a
reasonable doubt; while in a proceeding in rem
to forfeit a distillery it is only necessary to estab
lish the charge by a preponderance of evidence.
But in the first three or four trials I succeeded in
securing hung juries whether Lewis elected to try
the indictment against the man or the libel against
the distillery. At last I came to grief. The
early trials were before Judge Hughes, the District

I20 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Judge, but at last, when the trial of the man on
the indictment came on for the second or third
time. Judge Hugh L. Bond, the Circuit Judge,
was on the bench. Bond was an able man but
no student, and while he was a good fellow in
private life he was one of the worst bullies and
most relentless judges I ever practised before.
He was impatient of delays, imperious in his
rulings and merciless in his instructions against a
prisoner when he chose to be. He made short
shrift of my client and myself. He wanted
to leave for his home in Baltimore. I saved
points and asked many instructions. Bond,
when it came to instructions, blurted right out
to the jury that the man was guilty, the evidence
sufficient, and that they ought to bring in a
verdict of conviction. They did so. My client,
who was a man of respectable antecedents, was
horrified when Bond proceeded to sentence him
to four years in Auburn Penitentiary in New York.
The scene in Court when that poor old fellow was
sentenced was one of the most pathetic experi
ences of my practice, but it made no impression
on Judge Bond. I promptly ordered a copy
of the record and prepared to fight.
Then Bond left and Judge Hughes continued
to try cases at the term. The Govemment
pressed the libel suit to forfeit the distillery. I
went into that case with fear and trembling. But
the reader may imagine my delight at the end

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 121
of a wearying trial, on the same evidence upon
which the prisoner had been convicted, when the
jury, after a long retirement, brought in a veirdict
acquitting the distillery.
Thus, on the same facts, one jury found a man
guilty beyond reasonable doubt, and another
held that the evidence did not even preponderate
in favour of the Govemment. It was an amusing
result to everybody but my poor old cUent, who
was under sentence. On this state of facts I
resolved to waste no time on attempted appeals,
but to take both records to Washington, to show
that there must be a reasonable doubt about
his guilt and base my appeal for executive clemency
upon that palpable fact. Accordingly, armed
with both records, I repaired to Washington,
having first secured a stay of execution which
detained my client in Richmond until his fate
was settled. Repairing to the White House,
armed with the two great rolls of record, I was
admitted, after a long delay, into the President's
office. He was cordial as usual and made me feel
at home. "What have you there?" he asked,
looking at my records with evident concern. I
told him briefly. Concluding, I said: "Mr. Presi
dent, the Judge, in the trial of my client, ran away
with the jury, bullied me and bullied them, and
prejudiced my client. Both cases show the same
facts. In one case, where only a preponderance
of evidence was required, a jury acquitted. Yet

122 RECOLLECTIONS OF
in the other, requiring proof beyond a reasonable
doubt, the Court, on the same testimony, forced
the jury to convict. Now does not that look like
a case of reasonable doubt? Does it not look as
if the Judge prejudiced the jury against the
prisoner?" The President had begun to write. He paused,
looked up, and his eye twinkled with merriment.
"Does look that way," said he, "unless — unless —
unless there was prejudice i-n favour of the dis
tillery! " Finishing the writing, he handed it to me,
addressed to Judge Gray, the officer in charge of
Pardons in the Department of Justice. It simply
said, " Dear Judge — Young Mr. Wise, bearer of
this, is a friend of mine. Do what you can for him."
When I reached the Department I found that
Judge Bond had anticipated my coming and
written a violent protest to the President against
any clemency to my client. Judge Gray and I
read the letter of Judge Bond, and I feared it was
going to have a damaging effect, but he said,
"We all know Bond!" About two weeks later
the pardon came, and Judge Gray and I were
sworn friends as long as he lived.
The last time I ever saw General Grant was in
New York. I was visiting the city negotiating
for a large amount of money. He was then in the
firm of Grant & Ward. I was awaiting a down- town
train at the Twenty -third Street elevated station.
He came up the steps and recognised me at once.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 123
It was near mid-day and the cars were not crowded,
so that we took seats together. He was looking
badly. Learning that I was interested in nego
tiating a large loan, he told me that possibly his
firm might handle the matter and gave me the
card of Ferdinand Ward, with the words written
on the back, "Introducing Mr. Wise, my friend.
U. S. G." I called upon Ward, whose office was
somewhere about where the Manhattan Life
BuUding now stands. I was very much repelled
by the man's appearance. He sent me to see
James D. Fish at the Marine Bank. Mr. Fish
gave me valuable employment in a matter
pertaining to a life insurance company of which
he was receiver, but nothing was done in the
original business about which Ward had sent me
to see him. Poor old Fish was a kind-hearted,
jolly, companionable man, and I deeply regretted
his subsequent troubles.
Shortly before the death of my father business
took him to Washington, and he called upon Presi
dent Grant, whom he had never met. He was
much impressed by Grant's accurate knowledge
•and power of clear statement. It was soon
after the great Chicago fire, and I remember his
vivid recital of President Grant's description of
the origin, cause, nature, progress and results
of the conflagration. President and Mrs. Grant
both showed him marked attention. During my
father's long service in Congress he had much to

124 RECOLLECTIONS OF
do with the army folk and in some way had been
kind to the Dents, and Grant himself had been
deeply interested in the Anti-Know-Nothing cam
paign and had read his speeches and followed his
career with great interest. It seems that on the
occasion of his visit my father presented the
President with an old ring set with a fragment of
the Liberty Bell in Independence Hall, Phila
delphia. If I ever heard of the fact I had
forgotten it until it was recalled lately by a
gratifying episode following the death of Mrs.
Grant. The dear old lady was fond of West
Point. On the occasion of one of her many
visits there she met my eldest son. Cadet (now
Captain) Hugh Douglas Wise, and became much
interested in the little fellow. Whenever she
went to the post she always inquired for him, and
often sent for him to visit her. After her death
her son. General Frederick Dent Grant, wrote to
my son and told him that among his mother's
effects he had found the ring above referred to with
a tag attached to it on which was written, "This
ring was presented to my husband by the late
Governor Wise, and I wish it given, after my
death, to Captain Wise." My son, knowing that
I was frequently called Captain, suggested to
General Fred. Grant that she probably referred to
me, but General Grant knew better and sent it to
him, saying she intended it for her cadet friend,
and so my son is now its possessor.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 125
In a rather free talk I once had with President
Grant about the Confederate leaders, he expressed
feelings of the greatest kindness, admiration and
almost affection for General Lee. I remember his
saying that if everybody had home themselves
after the war as General Lee did it would have
saved a world of trouble. I tried to draw him out
into some expression of opinion conceming the
relative merits of the Confederate commanders,
but he- gave no definite response. He did, how
ever, express such a high opinion of the general
ship and abilities of General Joseph E. Johnston
and recurred to that opinion so often that, without
his having said so, I have ever since entertained
the notion that General Grant thought him the
greatest Confederate commander. And other prom
inent Northem soldiers have said so to me posi
tively. Without claiming to be a competent
military critic or qualified judge, I must say that
for the life of me I have never been able to under
stand the reasoning upon which such an opinion
is based. For a long time I seriously was inclined
to think Grant the greatest soldier of the war,
notwithstanding all my prejudices in favour of
Lee; but, after a careful study of Lee's campaigns,
especially his last grand campaign which began
when Grant crossed the Rappahannock, May 4,
1864, and ended at Appomattox, I believe Lee
was the greatest soldier of the war. Nobody else
fought a more brilliant battle than Second Manas-

126 RECOLLECTIONS OF
sas. Nobody did anything as astounding as
Chancellorsville, and the Wilderness campaign,
in which Lee with but 60,000 men met 120,000
men under Grant and in thirty -eight days disabled
55,995 of his enemy, without allowing that enemy
to gain any substantial advantage, ranks Lee, in
my opinion, as one of the greatest of military
leaders. My authorities are: Rhodes, the His
torian (Vol. IV.), a Northem man, and the
Official Records. I believe that history will
rank Lee as the greatest soldier of the Civil War,
and in coming to that conclusion I have certainly
tried, however I may have failed, to be non
partisan. General Grant also had a high opinion
of Stonewall Jackson. I had been a cadet at the
school where Jackson was a professor, and the cadet
corps of which I was a member buried Jackson.
Grant was deeply interested in the incidents of
Jackson's private life and the story of his idiosyn
crasies which I knew. Everybody knows, of
course, how much he was attached to Longstreet.
I cannot close these rambling reminiscences of
General Grant without teUing one other, because
it is so illustrative of the wonderful change in his
private fortunes brought about by the war.
Soon after the war ended an elderly United
States Army surgeon was stationed in Richmond.
In the old service he had been an intimate friend
of an old friend and neighbour of ours, Colonel
 . Doctor  often visited Colonel 

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 127
socially, and one evening I happened to be at
the house of Colonel  when Doctor 
called. Their conversation fell upon old times,
and Colonel  asked Doctor  if he knew
Grant in the old service.
"Yes, indeed," replied the doctor, "I knew
him in Mexico when he was a young sub. and I
assistant surgeon. And he was a good fellow.
I lost sight of him for some time, and my next
meeting with him was under peculiar circum
stances." The doctor hesitated a moment, drew out his
pocketbook, fumbled in a side pocket of the book
and brought forth a faded I. O. U. for $20 signed
by Grant and dated in the fall of i860. He passed
it to Colonel  and myself, and after we had
inspected it critically we retumed it to him. See
ing by our expression that our curiosity was
excited, he proceeded:
" In the autumn of i860 I was standing on the
steps of the Astor House, New York. A man
approached and addressed me. I did not recog
nise him, and he relieved me by saying, 'You
don't remember me. I'm Grant, formerly of
the  . Knew you in Mexico,' etc.
"I recognised him at once. 'Doctor,' said he,
going straight to his point, ' I came here to meet
some people, hoping to secure employment. It
failed. It depressed me. I've spent every dollar
I had. Dead broke. Want money enough to

128 RECOLLECTIONS OF
get home. Can you help me ? Twenty dollars wUl
do,' " and the doctor, laughing, said," And he looked
his part. There was no mistaking that he was tell
ing the truth. I lent him the twenty dollars and
he stepped to the desk and wrote this note. I never
saw him again until he was a general in the army."
" Did you try to collect it? " laughed the colonel.
"No," said the doctor. "It is the best invest
ment I ever made. Grant doubtless forgot in the
multiplicity of his cares the detail of the twenty
dollars, but he never did forget that in his time of
trouble I was his friend, nor has he ever forgotten
to be my friend. I do not believe there is anything
in reason which I might ask of him that he would
not do for me. Whenever I see him he greets me
with the utmost cordiality and shows his apprecia
tion of old friendship, even though he may have
forgotten the details of the origin of the feeling."
Grant always seemed to feel the liveliest interest
in our old soldiers. I remember telling him on
one occasion that somehow, since General Lee's
death, the orphaned Confederates seemed to feel
that the duty of being kind to them and looking
after their interests had devolved on him. His
eye brightened with gratification, and he said
something to the effect that the feeling, curious
as it might seem, was more or less reciprocal, and
that they held a place in his regard second only
to that he felt for his own men. " Curious sort of
feeling, isn't it?" said he musingly.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 129
He also had a soft spot in his heart for Colonel
John S. Mosby, the Confederate guerilla, and
Mosby was devoted to him.
No man could be thrown for any length of time
with Grant without admiring and respecting him.
He was with all his abilities one of the simplest,
most confiding and trustful of men.
The greatest mistake the Southem people ever
made was in not realising that if they had per
mitted him he would have been the best friend
they had after the war.

RUTHERFORD B. HAYES

VII.— RUTHERFORD B. HAYES
The first time I recall hearing the name of
Rutherford B. Hayes was one moming, during
Grant's second term, when the greenback excite
ment was at its height in Ohio. My father
appeared with a newspaper containing a speech
made by Mr. Hayes on the currency question at
Fremont, Ohio, which he pronounced to be the
ablest presentation of the subject he had seen for
many years. It made an impression upon me
and I read it, deriving great instruction from it;
instruction which unquestionably influenced my
views in favour of the gold basis from that time
forth. The year of Hayes's nomination was the
year of the great Centennial in Philadelphia.
The Republican National Convention which
nominated Hayes was chiefly noted for the perti
nacity with which the friends of President Grant
sought to name him for a third term. Hayes was
the outcome of a long struggle. The Democrats
nominated Tilden. I took no part in politics and
felt very little interest in them. My political
views were largely derived from the opinions and
prejudices of my father, but he was on his death
bed, and I was absorbed in attention to our prac
tice. He was senior partner and I junior, and
133

134 RECOLLECTIONS OF
what Uttle spare time I had from work was spent
for the most part in his sick room. He died in
September, 1876, after a lingering illness, and I
was so distressed and occupied with family and
business affairs that I do not even remember
whether I voted. I am inclined to think that if
my father had survived he would have voted for
Hayes, for he not only had profound contempt
for the post-bellum Democracy, but regarded Mr.
Tilden as one of the trickiest and most unscrupu
lous politicians in America, and while his preju
dices against the Republican party were strong and
deep, he declared, when Hayes was nominated,
that he was an able and a high man. How far he
would have been swerved from that opinion by the
things done after the Presidential election of 1876,
and in the proceedings of the electoral commission,
we cannot, of course, know.
It would be foreign to the purpose and the scope
of these reminiscences to enter upon the details
of the long and doubtful controversy which suc
ceeded that election. I took no part in it and
felt little interest. It was manifest to me that
the result would tum upon the success of the
political jockeying of the party leaders. I had
seen enough of politics to satisfy me that as the
two parties were then constituted the balance of
ability and resourcefulness was on the side of the
Republicans. To my mind, when the Democrats
were inveigled into submitting the 'contest to a

RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES
The nineteenth president uf the United .States (1S77-S1

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 135
commission, of which a majority were Republicans,
they gave up their case. And when it was de
veloped that the Democratic State Governments
in Louisiana and South Carolina were to be
installed and the electoral votes of those States
were to be counted for the Republicans, it was
plain to me that poor old Tilden had been sold out
and that the price of his slaughter was the Demo
cratic control of those two Southem States.
Maybe I was cynical. Maybe I was wrong in my
conclusions. Maybe I did the electoral com
mission injustice. But it all came out just as I
thought it would. And the Electoral Commis
sion's findings were 'no surprise to me. My only
regret about it was that the Supreme Court was
dragged into the controversy, and its prestige for
impartiality permanently impaired by entrusting
to its members business that did not properly
belong to them; for all men, even Supreme Court
justices, are but mortals, and, in a supreme
crisis like that are unable to rise above the in
fluence of partisanship, even if they believe they
can. It was little less than a national calamity when
the members of the Supreme Court, with its
exalted record and the faith of the people so
firmly fixed upon it, were placed in a situation
from which they emerged, with one of their number
called in ridicule "Aliunde Joe," because of the
wide-spread opinion that he was a partisan. And

136 RECOLLECTIONS OF
the Court has never since filled, as it did before,
the popular ideal of exalted incorruptibUity.
President Hayes took his seat under the blackest
cloud that ever hung over a President. He had
the most trying r61e to play. He could not have
done otherwise than he did. To have failed or
refused to assert his title to the Presidency, by
every means in his power, would have been a
wrong to his party and his own annihilation.
He naturaUy committed his case to the manage
ment of his party leaders. When he won he was
subjected to a murderous cross-fire. Of course
his political antagonists denounced him as a
fraudulent imposter. But that was not the
worst of it. The men who had made the fight for
him regarded him as under such obligations to
them that he was their creature, and every time
he failed to do what they demanded they were
disposed to denounce him as an ingrate and to hint,
through malice, that he really was an imposter.
No man ever was in a more trying situation.
It was fashionable in those days to sneer at Hayes
as a weak accident and hypocrite. But I saw a
good deal of President Hayes and believe that he
was an able and upright man, and that history
will assign him a much higher place than his con
temporaries were disposed to admit him entitled to.
Of course he could not accomplish much, pulled
and hauled and mauled about in every direction,
as he was by friend and foe.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 137
He made a fair effort to conciliate the South.
His Postmaster General, Judge Keyes of Tennes
see, was a Democrat, and he announced a liberal
poUcy in appointing Southem men to office. I
do not recall just where I first met President
Hayes, but think it was in regard to some Govem
ment business at the White House. He was one
of the most patient, courteous and considerate
public officials with whom I ever came in contact.
When his policy of appointing Southerners to office
was announced, a lady friend with claims upon
me prevailed upon me to visit the President and
try to secure for her husband, an educated man
without talent for business, a Govemment position.
If I had known as much then as I learned later
about the way in which Govemment positions
are secured, I never would have gone upon any
such wild-goose chase or consented to bother a
President about a subordinate appointment. But
I wanted to help a friend and made the trip.
It was in the summer time and the President and
his family were temporarily residing at the
Soldiers' Home. The telephone was just coming
into use, and one had been put up between the
White House and the Soldiers' Home. One of the
officials to whom I was known inquired if the
President would see me if I drove out, and the
reply came at once that if I would call about
6.30 p. M he would receive me. Upon arriving
there I was ushered into the sitting room, and in

138 RECOLLECTIONS OF
a moment the President came in, smiling and
holding a napkin in his hand. I had evidently
interrupted him at dinner. Of course it was
annoying to me, but he good-naturedly protested
that it was not my fault; that I had come at the
hour named by him, and that ordinarily his dinner
would have been over; but that he had been out
driving with Mrs. Hayes and they had been unex
pectedly detained, so that I found them at dinner.
He invited me to join the family, and, seeing that
he would not retum to his meal unless I consented
to accompany him, I yielded. There I met Mrs.
Hayes and some lady visitor and some of the
Hayes children, I do not remember which.
Mrs. Hayes was a beautiful, dear, sweet woman.
Their meal was simple enough, and their hospitality
just as gracious as ever I saw. One or the other
of them said something about having no wine, and
I tumed it off by saying that they would need to
make no apologies or explanations to me, for I
came from a section where the people were too
poor to indulge in such luxuries.
With all her lovable and excellent traits, Mrs.
Hayes was more or less of a crank on this subject.
But we all have our peculiarities about this or
that. Whenever I see a person so obstinate and so
pertinacious in trying to make others conform to
his standard of Ufe I try not to offend his preju
dice, and he certainly has no effect upon my
views or habits. That sort of thing is a species of

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 139
self-assertive vanity, or prejudice, which more
thorough social experience would teach one not to
intrude on others ; or is in many cases a form of
bitterness resulting from the abuse of liquor by
some loved one. Whenever I see a person of that
sort my curiosity is at once aroused to know who
the relative or friend was that was destroyed by
liquor, and what he or she did to excite this bitter
ness. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred this
is at the bottom of it. President Hayes admired
and respected Mrs. Hayes greatly and deferred to
her demands about liquor, but I do not think he
was himself in the least fanatical on the subject.
What impressed me most about him was his
placidity, and, so far as I could see, the many
things which had happened and were happening,
tending to make him morbid or embittered, had
produced no effect upon him. It was in strange
contrast with the effect of similar treatment upon
President Johnson.
After our simple and delightful repast was over
the President conducted me to a little veranda,
and we entered upon a discussion of the business
of my visit. He was a patient listener, and
when I had stated the case said he fully appre
ciated that it was desirable to make some Southem
appointments, but in his position there was little
controlled by him; that nearly all the places were
claimed by Senators and Congressmen, who not
only filled all vacancies but had long waiting lists,

I40 RECOLLECTIONS OF
and that, under the precedents established, the
President was almost without patronage, but he
would see what he could do. He held in his hand
a little pocket memorandum book and from time
to time made entries. I felt sure that he intended
to do what he could, and when I parted with him
he told me he would see what he could do and I
would hear from him again. But I never did hear
from him again. I never blamed him, for a man
in his position cannot possibly recall such in
significant matters.
The little memorandum book became well
known to the visitors to President Hayes, and
the fun-loving reporters made it the subject of
jests more witty than charitable. It was even
said that the President filled a book a day and at
night threw it into a drawer and never recurred
to it, so that at the end of his term there were
loads of these unproductive souvenirs. Be that
as it may, he made everybody feel well and hope
ful during the interview.
President Hayes and his cabinet visited Rich
mond during his Presidential term. I then lived
there and was Captain of the Blues, a volunteer
company organised in 1793. It was the "Corps
d' Elite" of the city, and we were part of the
military escort that received him. With him
were Mr. Evarts, Mr. Sherman, Judge Keyes, and
others of his cabinet, but between my military
duties and the duties of hospitality I saw little

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 141
of them. They debarked at Monroe and Franklin
streets, and the President spoke from a platform
erected upon a vacant lot where the handsome
residence of a Mr. Harris now stands. Then we
had a parade. The President's son, Webb Hayes,
accompanied him, and, as he was keen for a day's
shooting and I was then quite a famous Nimrod,
the duty of giving him a day's sport was allotted
to me. It was a pleasant service, but de
prived me of all other participation in the gaities
of the celebration. Webb Hayes, Colonel Crook,
one of the President's secretaries, and a friend of
mine made up our party. We sallied forth early
the following moming and, as I recall it, shot over
the farms above the city, "Westham," "Tucka-
hoe," and other places. We had a good day's
sport. I found both Webb Hayes and Colonel
Crook were keen sportsmen, fairly good shots, and
excellent fellows. That day laid the foundation
of friendships which have lasted ever since. Crook
is still at the White House, although his once
tawny beard is now white as the snow, and,
although I have only seen Hayes once or twice
since, we have always remembered each other and
exchanged pleasant messages.
The last time I saw President Hayes was at the
Fifth Avenue Hotel, not long before his death.
He had come here to attend some great national
celebration, as one of the surviving Presidents.
Something took me into the dining room, and as

142 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS
I passed out an old gentleman with wiute beard
and kindly brown eyes smiled, bowed and pushed
back his chair. For a moment I did not recognise
him, but soon saw that it was ex-President Hayes
and felt flattered at his courteous recognition.
He had aged very much; his beard which, when I
first knew him, was a rich mahogany brown, had
lost all colour; and he had shrunk up, which is to
my mind a premonition of the end in persons of
his age. He was unattended; Mrs. Hayes was
long since dead; his children all married and
gone ; and, being of the past and not of the present
or future, one may be sure not many New Yorkers
were paying him attention. Still he was bright
and kindly and cheery, and did not seem to feel
that he was being neglected. I sat down and
had a few minutes' pleasant chat with him, and
then we parted — forever.

JAMES A. GARFIELD

VIII.-JAMES A. GARFIELD
I NEVER personally met President Garfield but
once in my life, and that was soon after his in
auguration, at the White House, in the moming
hour, when he was receiving Senators and Mem
bers. At that time I was not a Member of Congress
and do not recall the circumstance which occas
ioned the visit. I remember that he received me
pleasantly, heard whatever I had to say, and spoke
in an encouraging way. But I did not like him;
did not like his eye. It was a bright, strong
eye, but was too light in colour; it was inclined to
be what is called a "gander" eye. Physically he
was a noble specimen of manhood. He was tall,
erect, had a fine head carriage, and the dome of
his forehead was much nobler than it is portrayed
in any of his portraits. They all make him stouter,
coarser, less intellectual than he was. Nobody
upon seeing Garfield could mistake him for an
ordinary man. Yet from the pictures one sees of
him one gathers the impression that he was a
somewhat coarse-featured, fat-faced, full-blooded,
over-fed man. He was not. He was a well-
proportioned, handsome man of gallant, intellectual
appearance, and, barring the "gander" eye, was an
unusually prepossessing man.
I4S

146 RECOLLECTIONS OF
At the time of his inauguration I was becom
ing much interested in politics. I ran as an
Independent candidate for Congress in the Rich
mond district in 1880 against my cousin, George
D. Wise, the regular Democratic nominee, and
was beaten badly. I was rapidly becoming a
Republican. When Garfield came into power I
thought the South should give him a generous
support. I sympathised with him in his contest
with the New York Senators, and thought Conkling
and Piatt behaved in a childish and foolish way
when they resigned from the Senate. I thought
he made a mistake in selecting Blaine for leader
of his Cabinet.
Another thing which I did not like about Gar
field was his great social intimacy with certain
Southem Democratic leaders in Washington, whom
I knew to be perfectly hypocritical in their pro
fessions of friendship. He was a great fellow for
talking with his arm around one's shoulder and
calling people by their first names. To see him in
Congress with the Southem coterie I have men
tioned, one would have imagined they had nothing
on earth that was not in common. And they availed
themselves of this flattery and cajolery of Garfield
to make him help them in a number of their pet
measures. That was all right enough, if they had
been sincere. But they were not sincere. The
same men who would thus fawn about Garfield
and call him "Jim," when they wanted his help

Copyright, C. M. Bell.
JAMES ABRAM GARFIELD
The twentieth president of the United .States. Inaugurated March 4, 18S1,
and shot at Washington by Guiteau, July 2, 1S81.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS i47
in a Republican house, retumed to their Southern
districts, in instances within my knowledge, and
in their attacks upon the Republican party would
include Garfield and accuse him of corruption in
the "DeGolyer Contracts" and other matters,
utterly regardless of any obligation of friendship.
And, when it was all over, back they would go
to Washington and appear in the lobbies with
their arms about Garfield's neck, joking and
making merry with him as if they were his real
friends, and he seemed to be flattered by it and
not to have sense enough to see through it or self-
respect enough to resent such an insult. That
was at the foundation of my prejudice against
Garfield. I knew what a hypocritical, vindictive,
double-faced set these people who were fawning
upon him and seemed to have his ear were,
and I could not understand how a man of real
ability and character and judgment of men could
be deceived by them.
But Garfield was a singular character in many
ways. Nobody questioned the man's great abili
ties or his eloquence and power to lead men.
Those things were universally conceded to him.
But if half the stories current about him in Wash
ington were true, there was an infinite chasm
yawning between the real Garfield and the popular
ideal of the man. I could not corroborate one
of them, if I should venture to repeat it, and
therefore will not.

148 RECOLLECTIONS OF
His cruel, tragic, wanton assassination aroused
the greatest sympathy and brought forth every
thing of good that could be said about him.
There let the matter rest.
Yet there are many people familiar with Gar
field and his time who honestly believe that, so far
as his own reputation for the future is concemed,
his assassination was a lucky, rather than an
unlucky, thing for him.
I remember distinctly the spot where I was
standing and the person who told me that Garfield
had been shot. It was in Richmond, comer
Eleventh and Main streets, in front of the National
Bank of Virginia, and James Lyons, Jr., was my
informant. I remember also that I was not sur
prised. The controversy between the President
and the New Yorkers had been so rabid that the
first idea which occurred to me was that Garfield's
death might be in some undefined way associated
with that. It was a relief to leam that the
horrid thing was only the act of an irresponsible
lunatic. Something again took me to Long Branch
while Garfield lay wounded at Elberon. Of
course the President's condition was the subject of
universal solicitude. From the time I learned the
nature of his wound I never entertained a ray of
hope that he would recover. Not only from my
war experience, but from a large and varied
experience as a sportsman and with many kinds

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 149
of pets, I had come to the conclusion that no skill
would overcome the fatal effect of a columnar
intestinal wound like that. By this time my
acquaintance with public men was large, and many
of them were with me at the hotel at Long Branch.
One evening a party of us were talking when an
acquaintance, a prominent man, joined our group.
He looked solemn and depressed. Some one in
quired, " Any news from the President? " " Yes,"
he answered, "I have just seen him." He then
explained that he had visited the President's
cottage; that as he was an old friend and knew
the surgeons, and as the President was sleeping
soundly, they had permitted him to take a look
at him from some point where he could see
without disturbing him or, perhaps, even entering
the room. " Well, what do you think of his con
dition?" was the eager inquiry from several.
He shook his head sadly, and after some reluct
ance said, "Well, the surgeons still encourage
hope, and maybe I know nothing about it. But"
— and he paused long before proceeding — "with
out their reassurance I would look upon him as
a dead man now. I never saw such a shocking
change in the appearance of any living man. I
would never have recognised the President at all.
Even his skin has a dried, tanned look like that
of a mummy. Oh, my God, it is awful! " and he
broke down and wept.
This conversation made a deep impression upon

150 RECOLLECTIONS OF
me. Before I left for New York the next moming
another bulletin appeared and, reading between
the lines with what I had heard, I felt sure the
surgeons were preparing us for the end.
I lunched with a friend that day at Delmonico's
cafe, located at Twenty-sixth Street and Broad
way. While we were at luncheon a mutual
friend dropped in upon us. Learning that I was
just retumed from Long Branch, he inquired
whether I had any reliable news conceming the
President's real condition. When I told him
what I knew he inquired eagerly what my engage
ments were for the next hour or two and, learning
that I would be at leisure, requested me to meet
him an hour later at the Hoffman House prepared
to spend an hour in a visit to a friend. At the
time designated he retumed in a cab and we
were driven to the house on Lexington Avenue
then occupied by Vice-President Arthur. The
curtains at the front were down as if the house was
unoccupied. We were promptly admitted, and the
servant told us to go up to the second story back
room. There we found Arthur and several friends,
among them, if I remember correctly, being
Colonel Horace B. Fry, the late Clint. Wheeler
and Steve French. It was a bachelor establish
ment, free and easy, with plenty of tobacco smoke
and decanters, and the Vice-President sat upon
the side of a bed talking earnestly to one of his
friends when I entered.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 151
He greeted me cordially. I knew him even
before he was Vice-President. Many a night,
when he held one of the Govemment offices, he
had, after the theatre, dropped into Delmonico's
with "the boys," for a "high ball," and there I
first met him. He married a Virginian, a Miss
Hemdon from Fredericksburg, and I knew all his
Virginia friends and some of his groomsmen, so
that was the bond of friendship between us.
Arthur behaved admirably during Garfield's
illness. He withdrew from his old haunts and
confined himself to his home. His manner when
he met me was very quiet and dignified, and
showed that he understood full well what the
second official in the Nation should do under
such circumstances. I told him all I knew, and
unhesitatingly expressed the opinion that the
President's death was only a matter of a few
days at farthest. Our conversation was quite a
long one, and then I joined the others in the front
room or library. The Vice-President invited me
to remain to dinner, but I had another engage
ment. Within a week I stood with bared head at the
Pennsylvania depot in Washington and saw the
bier of Garfield home from the train, while the
Marine Band of about one hundred pieces played
the most impressive dirge I ever heard and
the air vibrated with the melody of " Safe in the
Arms of Jesus."

CHESTER A. ARTHUR

IX.-CHESTER A. ARTHUR
My recollections of President Arthur and the
times of his administration are among the most
agreeable of my young and vigorous manhood.
Early in 1882 he appointed me United States
Attomey for the Eastem District of Virginia, and
in the autumn of that year I was elected Congress-
man-at-Large from the State of Virginia, so that I
resigned my United States Attorneyship and took
up my duties in Washington March 4, 1883.
Mrs. Wise accompanied me and we established
ourselves at the Arlington Hotel. The Democrats
had an overwhelming majority in the House,
which gave us Republicans ample time, as we had
none of the responsibilities of legislation upon
our shoulders. It was a notable House. John G.
Carlisle of Kentucky was Speaker, and he was one
of the best and fairest speakers the House of
Representatives ever had. Of course the Demo
crats were divided among themselves. They are
always divided among themselves. Sam Randall
of Pennsylvania, than whom a better fellow never
lived, led the tariff wing of the Democrats. Morri
son of Illinois, representing the low tariff wing
of the Democracy, undertook to frame a tariff bill.
Among other Democrats whom I recall with
15s

iS6 RECOLLECTIONS OF
pleasure and kindness were Abram S. Hewitt,
Mr. Holman of Indiana, Sunset Cox of Ohio and
New York, R. R. Bland of Missouri, Hatch of the
same State, Mortimer Elliott of Pennsylvania,
General Slocum of New York, Jack Adams of the
same State, John Lamb of Indiana, Springer of
Illinois, Hon. Hilary A. Herbert, afterward in Cle
veland's Cabinet, Governor Oates and General Joe
Wheeler, all from Alabama; Clifton Breckinridge
of Arkansas, afterward Minister to Russia; Joe
Blackburn of Kentucky, afterward Senator; Gov
ernor Curtin of Pennsylvania, Mr. Dockery, since
Governor of Missouri; William McAdoo, then of
New Jersey, now Police Commissioner of New
York; Benton McMillan, afterward Governor of
Tennessee; Roger Q. Mills, afterward Governor
and Senator from Texas; John H. Reagan, the
Confederate ex- Postmaster General; General
William S. Rosecranz of California; and William
L. Wilson of West Virginia, afterward prom
inent under Cleveland's administration, and
best known perhaps as author of the Wilson
tarUf biU.
My Democratic colleagues from my own State
were Messrs. Garrison, George D. Wise, Cabell,
Tucker, O'Ferrall and Barbour, two of whom.
Garrison and O'Ferrall, were seated after
contests. My seat was contested, but it never gave me
much concern. The committee, a majority of

CHESTER A. ARTHUR
The twenty-first president of the United States (1SS1-S5)

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 157
which was of course Democratic, reported in
my favour. Sam Randall had been a play
mate of my uncles, John and William Sergeant,
when they grew up together in Philadelphia.
Nothing pleased him more than to sit up and
tell me of the thriving business he and "BiU"
Sergeant did raising pigeons in my grandfather's
stable loft at the old residence in Fourth
Street, when they were boys. His father,
Josiah Randall, was a aevoted friend of my
grandfather Sergeant. When he heard of the
contest he sent for Mortimer EUiott of Penn
sylvania and Jack Adams of New York, members
of the committee, and told them that whatever
else happened I was not to be molested. My
opponent really had no case, and as the Demo
crats had about seventy-five majority in the
House, and did not want any more, I was never
disturbed. On the Republican side were a great many
men who have since achieved national fame.
There were Tom Reed of Maine, D. B. Henderson
of Iowa; and Uncle Joe Cannon of Illinois, all
of whom have since been Speakers of the House.
And McKinley, who was, toward the end of the
term, ousted by Wallace; the present Secretary,
James Wilson of Iowa ; Judge Goff of West Virginia ;
John Kean, Jr., now Senator from New Jersey;
Hepburn of Iowa ; Hiscock, afterward Senator from
New York; Knute Nelson, still Senator from

iS8 RECOLLECTIONS OF
Minnesota; W. D. Washburn, afterward Senator
from Minnesota; William Walter Phelps, W. D.
(Pig-iron) Kelley, McComas, afterward Senator
from Maryland; Sereno Payne of New York, still
in Congress; George W. Ray, now U. S. Judge;
Ex-Governor Rice, A. A. Ranney of Massachusetts,
and last but not least poor old B elf ord of Colorado
and the redoubtable Tom Ochiltree of Texas.
The Virginia delegation as originally returned
was six Republicans and four Democrats. There
were three contests. The Democrats had every
thing their own way. They made short shrift of
poor old Colonel Bob Mayo, the sitting Republican
member in the first district, and seated the con
testant, Garrison. In the seventh district O'Fer
rall, Democrat, contested John Paul's seat. But
before the contest was decided Paul was appointed
by President Arthur United States District Judge
for the Western District of Virginia, which vacated
his seat in Congress, so O'Ferrall rather took it by
default. He would probably have secured it in
any event. When the Democrats finished with
us the delegation stood: REPUBLICANS
Congressman-at-Large, John S. Wise
2d Dist., Harry Libbey,
4th Dist., Benjamin S. Hooper,
9th Dist., Henry Bowen.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 159
DEMOCRATS
ist Dist., George T. Garrison,
3rd Dist., George D. Wise,
5th Dist., George C. Cabell,
6th Dist., John Randolph Tucker,
7th Dist., Charies T. O'FerraU,
9th Dist., John S. Barbour.
There was a good deal of bad blood between the
representatives of the opposing parties in Virginia,
especially during an investigation into the origin
and nature of a riot in Danville in which a number
of negroes were killed, but on the whole party
feeling did not run very high during Arthur's
administration. President Arthur was one of the most loyal
Republicans and at the same time one of the
"best fellows" I ever knew. He was the soul
of kindness and hospitality to his political op
ponents, but he never permitted them to bam
boozle him into doing anything through personal
kindness which tended to weaken his party.
The Southem Bourbon representatives were then,
as they always have been, captivating, compan
ionable men, who, under the guise of social bon-
hommie, try to reach the higher and better element
of Republicanism in the North, to convince it
that they are the only real representative or
trustworthy people in the South, and that there

i6o RECOLLECTIONS OP
must be something radicaUy wrong and out of
gear in any Southem man who can bring himself
to affiliate with the Repubhcan party there,
which, as they put it, is synonymous with com
bining with negroes to dominate the best people.
They are liars and hypocrites, and nobody knows
it better than themselves. But they are indus
trious liars and most plausible hypocrites. They
ply their trade through men and through women.
The Jesuit priesthood in its palmiest days never
devised its sophistries more cunningly or dis
seminated them more insidiously than does South
em Bourbonism this class of appeal for Northem
Republican sympathy. And it is surprising to
see what they accomplish by it.
But the thing I admired most about Arthur
was that he associated with them, allowed them
to practise all their wiles upon him, even left them
believing that they had impressed him, saw
through and through them, and was not in the
least affected by their pharisaical talk, but went
right on trying to build up a respectable and real
Republican party in the South.
He was pecuUarly adapted to deal with that
phase of politics. He had married in the South,
and had been thrown a great deal with the old
Southern aristocracy. In a social way he liked
them, and was glad to be kind and hospitable to
them, but he had seen enough of them to know
that it was just as impossible to make a Republican

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS i6i
out of the average Southern Bourbon Democrat as
it is for the leopard to change his spots.
He understood them a great deal better than
they did him. He was a great deal more a man
of the world than any of them. He had moved
in the highest social and in the lowest political
circles of the great cosmopolitan, social, political
and business centre of this country.
Arthur had a hold upon the machine in his home
that had sprung from his having gone in and
worked with the "rounders." But he had done
this with the same good sense and search for prac
tical knowledge which prompts a refined and
wealthy youth who aspires to become ultimately
a railroad president to put on a pair of overalls
and work in the shops at the most subordinate
tasks. On the other hand, in all his social,
professional and political relations he had access
to and was part of the highest plane of society,
and had learned that it was not necessary to bully,
antagonise or alienate opponents; that a really
strong and diplomatic politician might listen,
conciliate, be courteous, and even not contradict
an opponent, without weakening in the least his
own convictions or purposes.
The dogmatism and provincial inexperience of
Bourbonism did not comprehend the patience and
suavity of Arthur. They often thought that
they had made their impression upon him, and
he took no pains to disabuse them. But when the

1 62 RECOLLECTIONS OF
time came he always showed them plainly that he
was not in accord with their ideas, and they
could find nothing in anything he said to them
on which to hang a pretense that he had excited
false hopes.
Arthur was a gentleman himself, and he did not
believe it was possible to build up a Republican
party in the South which would have a permanent
hold there unless he found a better and more
representative domestic leadership than it had
enjoyed in the past. Nor did he believe he would
accomplish much by giving offices to Southem
Democrats. His whole simple idea therefore was
to find in the South, if he could, respectable
Southerners who were Republicans and to com
mit the party into their hands, to build it up there
as a native and domestic and reputable representa
tive of a divided sentiment, and to take it, if
need be, out of the hands of men so unidentified
with the locality or so personally odious that they
drove people out of the party. Speaking to me
on one occasion of a class of scalawags, who repre
sent nothing but have been steadily given the
offices there since their supposed, "loyalty" in
war times, he said, "They are mere birds of prey.
As well expect the song birds to come and roost
on the trees with the hawks that have harried
them as to think the Southem people will join a
party tmder their leadership. It would be better to
pension them on condition that they come North

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 163
than leave them there to repel a following, no
matter how good the principles they advocate.
We must hunt for Republican leaders in the
South, for the future, somewhere else than among
the scalawags or the Bourbons. There must be
other kinds of people there, and when I find them
I want them."
One day I went to the White House and was
ushered into the President's dining room, where
I found him surrounded by a jolly crowd of
Senators and Congressmen, mostly Democratic.
Arthur was a high liver. He was not by any
means a drunkard, but he was a typical New
York man-about-town, and showed it in his fat
and ruddiness. He ate and drank too much, and
died young from the effects of over-indulgence.
He loved good company, and his high-ball, and
his glass of champagne, and his late supper with
a large cold bottle and a small hot bird. He
enjoyed bright stories, though he was not much
of a hand at telling them.
On the occasion referred to, finding myself in
such a company of political opponents, I could
not help feeling that I might be de trop, for it was
not everywhere that Democrats and Republicans
herded together in those days indiscriminately.
But he soon put me at my ease. After a little
while the party was broken up and he gave me
the wink to remain. On our way to his office he
said: "What a pleasant lot of fellows they are.

1 64 RECOLLECTIONS OF
What a pity they have so little sense about
politics. If they lived North the last one of them
would be Republicans. But they cannot stop
thinking or talking about negroes long enough
to think or talk about anything else."
One of the pleasantest and most amusing
dinners I ever attended at the White House was
given by President Arthur. His sister, Mrs.
McElroy, did the honours, and Mrs. Wise received
with her. The President escorted Mrs. Wise to
dinner. I was escort of his niece, Miss May
McElroy. We were consequently quite near the
President. The McElroy s had but recently re
tumed from a long visit to Europe, and gave us
very bright accounts of their experiences in Nor
way and Sweden. Ours was a jolly company, and
the dinner all that one could wish a Presidential
banquet to be. A thing occurred which has so
often been the subject of jest that I almost fear to
tell it. One would hardly think it possible, but it
is literally true.
Two rural Congressmen sat near enough for
us to see them attempt to spear some small
Spanish olives with their forks, and so vigorous
was the onslaught made by one of them that the
olive sprung out of the dish and landed in the shirt
bosom of a guest opposite. We all saw the contre
temps, and so amusing was it that we would have
exploded with laughter had not the President
warned us by his manner and tumed off the

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 165
matter adroitly. Arthur was a very prince of
hospitality, and nothing could betray him into
discourtesy. All through my Congressional career Arthur
had been so kind to me and so considerate that I
was naturally anxious for him to receive the
nomination in 1884. For some reason I did not
go to the National Convention. I thought the
nomination of Blaine was unwise. Personally
Mr. Blaine and I were good friends. He was a
brilliant, captivating man and had flattered me in
many ways. Among other things he sent me,
with an autograph inscription, a copy, bound in
turkey morocco, of his "Twenty Years of Con
gress." But the trouble with Blaine was that
those who hated him hated him with a violence
such as I have seldom seen any man excite.
Thousands admired him and called him the
"Plumed Knight" and loaded him with all
kinds of flattery, but, on the other hand, hundreds
seem to despise him and no base name was too
bad for him, and no party loyalty seemed to
restrain them.
Now, Arthur was a safe man, and, if he had done
nothing particularly brilliant, he certainly had not
aroused any such political beehive of stinging
hate as Blaine seemed to stir up. The Democrats
had done nothing to make them particularly
strong, and the Republicans had done nothing to
make them particularly weak. So I believed that

1 66 RECOLLECTIONS OF
we ought to leave good enough alone and nominate
Arthur. And I still believe that if we had nomi
nated Arthur he would not only have carried
New York but would have been elected.
The National Republican Convention which
was to decide whether Arthur or Blaine should
lead the Republican forces excited a great deal
of interest. The struggle was protracted, but
Blaine won. Three men attacked Blaine in a way
sufficiently violent to attract the attention of the
whole country. One of them was an old politician
and something of a chronic kicker, George William
Curtis; the other two were youngsters, political
colts, so to speak; they were Theodore Roosevelt
of New York and Henry Cabot Lodge of Massa
chusetts. If notoriety was what these gentlemen
were seeking, they attained their object. By the
time Curtis and Roosevelt and Lodge had given
their reasons for opposing Blaine, not only did the
whole country know of them, but the opposition
was in full possession of all the material it needed
to get up that frightful campaign caricature of
Blaine called "the tattooed man," which did as
much to beat him as anything else.
When Blaine triumphed in the convention public
curiosity at once became aroused to know the atti
tude which the trio of his assailants in the Con
vention would assume towards him. Curtis came
out against him and soon disappeared from politics.
Roosevelt and Lodge fell into line and supported

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 167
Blaine, with the ultimate result that one is Presi
dent and the other Senator from Massachusetts.
The blow of losing the Presidential nomination
was a severe one to Arthur. He was a proud,
sensitive man. He felt that his party had treated
him badly and ignored his faithful services when
it supplanted him with Blaine. But Arthur was
a strict and loyal party man. He did every
thing in his power to carry New York for Blaine
and was in no way to blame for the failure. If
anybody was to blame it was Blaine himself.
Still there were not lacking those who were ready
to attribute the loss of New York to Arthur, and
knowing his sensitive and punctilious nature, I
believe these unjust imputations, added to his dis
appointment at not receiving the nomination, did
much to hasten President Arthur's death.
Now and then one hears people discussing
which of the Presidents have been gentlemen.
The word has a legal signiflcation in England,
which makes it easy to determine who is and who
is not a gentleman. In America whether a par
ticular person is or is not a gentleman is largely
dependent upon the notions of each person concem
ing what constitutes a gentleman. But I have yet
to hear anybody familiar with the personal attri
butes of our Presidents, and trying to classify thera
socially, who did not declare that Chester A.
Arthur was a "gentleman," whatever that term
may mean in America.

GROVER CLEVELAND

X.-GROVER CLEVELAND
If I treated of the Presidents in the order of
my acquaintance with them, I should write of
President Harrison before President Cleveland,
for I never met Mr. Cleveland imtil after the
expiration of his first term. My service in Congress
ended when his, as President, first began, and I
left the capital the same day. Blaine's defeat
was a great disappointment to me, and I presume
I was as narrow and as bitter as the average
politician and took myself off home to rub my
sore spots. During the first year of Mr. Cleveland's
Administration, I was Republican candidate for
Governor of Virginia, and of course the whole
power of the Administration was brought to bear
against me. It was during this campaign that I
first held political communication with young
Roosevelt. Foraker was running in Ohio, and
our two campaigns excited considerable interest.
One day I received a kind note, in mourning,
written from Centre Moriches, signed Theodore
Roosevelt, expressing interest in my campaign
and the hope that I might be elected. The
mourning was for the first Mrs. Roosevelt, and
the writer was only about twenty-nine years of
age. I was defeated by the returns for governor,
171

172 RECOLLECTIONS OF
and removed to New York in the Autumn of 1888,
retaining my Virginia residence long enough to vote
for President Harrison. Mr. Cleveland also came to
New York after the expiration of his first term,
and it was here I met him first at some public
function. I remember his saying: "Why I knew
all the other Wises, George," etc., etc., calling
their names. " How is it I never met you before ? "
To which I laughingly replied : "Mr. President, I
did not have anything you wanted and you did
not have anything I could get, so I kept away
from you." " Oh! " said he good-naturedly, " you
are the bad one, are you? I know you now."
I Uked Mr. Cleveland from the first and he has
proved in many ways that he reciprocates the
feeling. Although I never voted for him, I have
a great respect and regard for him, and beUeve
that he made a good President. I do not mean
by that to endorse his political views, but I
regard him as a sound, conservative statesman,
whose chief fault, in the eyes of his followers, was
that he was better than his party.
But I do not intend to discuss his politics.
My purpose is simply to portray the man as I
have known him, and to convey some idea of the
man himself. The first time I was ever thrown
with him more or less intimately was at a famous
dinner given at the Astor House by the late John
Russell Young to a number of his friends. Mr.
Young was a lovable man and had warm friends

Copyright, 1892, by Napoleon Sirony.
GROVER CLEVELAND
The twenty-second (and twenty-fourth) president of the United .States
(1885-89 and 1893-97).

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 173
in all parties. The group of people he assembled
on the occasion now described was quite remarka
ble. I remember that General Sherman, Mr. Cleve
land, Chauncey Depew, Mr. John W. Mackay,
Tom Ochiltree, and many others whose names are
now forgotten, were present. They were all people
who, at one time or another in their public careers,
had felt the generous friendship of Young and
had become attached to him. It was a regular love-
feast, and we all had a good time. Our common
love of field sports brought Mr. Cleveland and
myself together as we had never been before,
and we promised each other that some day when
we could both find time we would go shooting
together. After that, whenever we met we were
good friends, and once or twice I tried to induce
the ex-President to go on shooting trips with me,
but something always prevented our going. Finally
the Presidential election of 1888 came around, and
Cleveland turned the tables upon President
Harrison and defeated him. I supported Harrison
loyally and ardently, but with a feeling of much
greater respect and regard for Mr. Cleveland than
I had evinced in prior campaigns; for, differ as
one may from him, no man who knows him
can fail to realise that there is a great deal of
rugged simplicity and real manhood in Grover
Cleveland. Now it so happened that when I lived in Virginia
I formed a warm attachment for a deaf-mute.

174 RECOLLECTIONS OF
He was a remarkable character in this, that not
withstanding his infirmity, he was an ardent
sportsman and a wonderful handler of dogs. He
was bright and pertinacious. He broke dogs
with a whistle and by signs; and, unable to yell
at them and confuse them, as so many dog-
breakers do, his pupils were singularly well-broken.
He and I were sworn friends, and I gave him a
good many dogs to break. When we first met
I wore a tall silk hat, from which he began to refer
to me in all his sign language as " Stove-pipe," by
which name he continued to call me tmtil he died,
only shortening the designation to "S.-p.," as
mutes are wont to do. He taught me the sign
language, and he also wrote a remarkable hand
very rapidly. He was a man of unusual intelligence,
interested in literature and poUtics. I do not think
he had very definite political views, but it was
sufficient for him to know that his friend " S.-p. "
was a Republican to make him one also. The poor
fellow, in answer to my praise of his excellent in
formation, had always but one reply. He would
shrug his shoulders and write: "What good does
it do me? I cannot apply my knowledge. There
is nothing for a deaf-mute to do." After Harrison's
election I aided in having him made postmaster
at the little town where he lived. It was a verita
ble godsend to him. It was the place above
all others in the world for which he was peculiarly
fitted. He knew every patron of the office, was

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 175
methodical, sober, domestic, always at his place,
and wrote an excellent hand. Accustomed to
study all written or printed matter submitted to
him, no instruction or requirement of the Depart
ment escaped him, and they told me at the Post-
office Department in Washington that his office
was really a model in respect to reports, details
and the observance of requirements. He was the
proudest creature I ever saw. Obtaining that
little office and finding that his work in it was so
satisfactory to his employers gave him a new hope
in life, and made him no longer feel that there was
no sphere of usefulness for him by reason of his
infirmity. His letters to me were voluminous,
and filled with gratitude and renewed hope.
Well, when Cleveland came back into power,
the Virginia Democratic Congressmen gave notice
that "to the victors belong the spoils." Poor
old Turner (that was his name) wrote me doleful
letters, telling me the Democrats had their eye
on his place and intended to turn him out, not
only because he was a Republican but because
T put him there. He took it philosophically, but
showed that he felt no hope. I tried to cheer him
up, but really did not know on what ground I
could encourage him. One cold evening in the
winter of 1892-93, after the Presidential election
but before Mr. Cleveland's inauguration, I found
myself standing at the Rector Street station by
the side of Mr. Cleveland. It was snowing and we

176 RECOLLECTIONS OF
were waiting for a train on the elevated road to
take us to our homes. I had that very day had
a mournful letter from Turner. "Ah! Mr. Presi
dent," said I cheerily, "this is an unexpected
pleasure! Unless you are so proud of your
victory that you will not speak to Republicans."
"Hello, Wise," said he in the most democratic
fashion. "Oh, no, I'm not so proud. I think
you may be regarded as no longer dangerous."
The train came up and we took seats side by side.
I said something pleasant of a personal nature, and
we soon began to talk about shooting. He re
marked that it was a fine day for brant shooting.
" Mr. President," said I, "if any one had told me I
would be holding up my plate for soup to you
some day I think I would have resented it, but
here I am among the earliest wanting a favour."
I then told him about the deaf-mute who was
such a fine dog-trainer. That interested him,
particularly the way the man used his whistle and
made signs with his hands. I then told him the
story of his appointment and the pride he felt in
his post-office, as told above. He listened atten
tively and finally said: "Of course he ought not
to be tumed out. If it was you, of course you'd
have to go. But robbing a poor devil like that
of the only thing he is fit for would not be politics
but petty meanness. I cannot remember things
like this, but when I name my Postmaster General
you see him, and if he doesn't help you I wiU,"

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 177
So Mr. Cleveland and I parted at his station better
friends than ever.
Soon after his inauguration and the announce
ment of his cabinet, I, being in Washington on
other business, called upon Mr. Bissell, Postmaster
General, and began to tell him of the case of
J. Marshall Turner, postmaster at Walkerton, Va.,
and of my desire to have him retained. He in
terrupted me with the query, " Didn't you say
something about this to the President?" "Yes, I
did," I replied. " But it was a long time ago and
I had no idea he remembered it." "Well, I do
not think he remembered the details, but he told
me that if Wise came to see me I must help him.
And this is the case, is it?" said he laughing, and
adding, "You and Mr. Cleveland and the dog-
breaker. Go and see Maxwell, Fourth Assistant.
He'll help you." So I hied myself to Maxwell, a
New Yorker and good fellow. "I'll help you, ' ' said
he. "I'll lose the papers, and it will be a long
time, I promise you, before anybody finds them."
Thanking him, and feeling sure from my knowl
edge of how such things are done that it would be
a long time before they tumed Turner out, I wrote
him to be of good cheer. When I bade him hope
he thought I was a magician. Fully twelve months
went by and I heard no more of Turner, by
which I knew that he was still in office. One day,
as I was preparing to go to Washington on other
business, I received a telegraphic wail: "I am

178 RECOLLECTIONS OF
tumed out. See Richmond paper." In half an
hour a Democratic paper published in Richmond
was placed in my hands. It had a flaming an
nouncement :
BOUNCED AT LAST! WISE'S MAN MUST GO!

CONGRESSMAN JONES TRIUMPHS AFTER A HARD
FIGHT
Then the paper proceeded to narrate what a
valiant and protracted battle Congressman Jones
had made to obtain this office for a worthy
Democrat, against my wily tricks to keep Turner
in, and how, at last, I had been vanquished and
a new man, whose name I have forgotten, had
been appointed. I laughed heartily, for I am sure
I had not heard a word about Turner or his post-
office for a twelvemonth. But there had been
battles royal in Washington.
The next day, when I finished the business which
took me to the capital, I called at the Post-office
Department, and first sought out Mr. Maxwell.
He met me with a broad grin, and said: "Well,
old fellow, I did the best I could. I held the
papers until a peremptory demand that I should
find them came from the Postmaster General."
"Thank you, thank you," said I. "I know you
did your best. Now tell me, what is the matter
with the Postmaster General ? " " Why, man alive,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 179
that Congressman down there has made his life a
burden," said he, giving me some details of Mr.
Jones's importunities. "You see the Postmaster
General," said he, "he'll tell you all about it."
"One word more," said I, "and I'll go. Has the
bond of the new postmaster been approved?"
"No." " Has his commission been signed ? " "No."
"Will you hold them until you hear from me?"
"Yes, if you let me hear to-day." "Good," said
I, and went to the Postmaster General. Mr.
Bissell was a large and not a very suave man,
and when I entered his office showed that he was
not glad to see me. His first greeting was, " Well,
sir, I know what you have come to see me about,
and I want to say to you that I think you have
been shown all the consideration which a Repub
lican is entitled to from a Democratic Administra
tion. In the effort to protect your man, I have
submitted to more abuse and insult from Congress
man Jones than I have received from anybody since
I entered upon the duties of this office. He has
gone so far that I ought to have ordered him out
of the office. But, finally, thinking I may have
treated him badly, I concluded to give it up and
appoint his man, and I can do no more for you.
It is not worth while for you to protest." I saw
his temper, and felt sorry for the way he had been
annoyed. "Mr. Postmaster General," said I
gently, "you misapprehend me. I am not here to
chide you or to protest. I am here to thank you

i8o RECOLLECTIONS OF
for all you have done, and to express my regret
that I have caused you so much annoyance
and raised such a storm around you." It was
the soft answer that turns away v^nrath. Seeing
that he was molUfied, I added gently, " Have you
approved the new man's bond? " " No." " Have
you signed his commission ? " " No. " " When wiU
those things be done in the ordinary course of
business, Mr. Postmaster General?" I ventured
this last inquiry in the most seductive way.
"Why, as soon as they go through the regular
routine. In a day or so, I presume," he answered
gruffly. "Well now, Mr. Postmaster General, I
know how good you have been to me. Is it
stretching your kindness too far to ask you to
hold up these signatures for twenty-four hours, so
as to enable me to see the President?" " See the
President!" he exclaimed. "You don't think the
President will mix up in a matter of this size do
you?" "Hardly," said I; "but then he might.
Will you not wait for me? " He mused a minute
and then, whirling his revolving chair about, said:
"All right! I'll wait a day. And after the way
that Congressman treated me, I don't care what
the President does. ' ' I tipped the wink to Maxwell
as I went out of the Department, and hurried, in
a cab, to the White House.
I found the President surrounded by Democratic
magnates. One of his feet was in a great cloth
shoe, for he was recovering from an attack of

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS i8i
gout. He greeted me cordially, pointed to a
large sofa near a window, and bade me sit down
and read the paper until he was through with his
visitors. It was a beautiful spring moming and
the sunlight lit up Arlington, and the monument,
and the Potomac. Out on the lawns the great
red-breasted robins were hopping about, bobbing
for worms. It was an ideal day for shooting —
snipe shooting at Jamestown. It seemed an in
terminable time before the last of his visitors with
drew, and then he limped over to me with his
lower lip pouted out and curled, as is his wont
when in a good humor. "Sorry I kept you so
long, ' ' said he, taking a seat beside me. I answered
back, " Oh, get through with your janissaries, and
prebendaries and stipendiaries, Mr. President, and
come with me." He chuckled and repeated to
himself, " Janissaries, and prebendaries and stipen
diaries," and then said, "Well, what is it?"
" Snipe! " said I. " Come on; I have a private car
all ready, loaded with black-tailed deer, and
woodcock, champagne, and everything. We'll
slip out of here quietly and go to Williamsburg,
drive thence to Jamestown Island and have a bully
time. Look out of the window, Mr. President-
Look at the haze. It actually smells like snipe."
May the Lord forgive me for that Munchausen
story about the private car. I had nothing of the
kind. But if the President had consented the car
woiUd have been there, for dear old Frank Thom-

1 82 RECOLLECTIONS OF
son. President of the Pennsylvania Railroad, loved
hunting as well as we did. He and I had been out
several times, and a telegram would have brought
him whirling into Washington with car and all.
The yearning look given by Cleveland at my
bidding was almost pitiful. With a deep sigh he
said, "Gads, I wish I could. No, can't go. No
use. And even if I could, I've promised another
man." Seeing that there was no chance of his
going, and having him in a good humor, I settled
down to business. " Mr. President," said I, " they
are trying to kill my little ewe lamb." "What's
your little ewe lamb?" he blurted out with a per
plexed look. Then I told him of the row at the
Post-office Department. As I proceeded I saw a
negative cloud settling on his face. Finally, when
I grew eloquent and said " Turning that poor devU
out is like striking a woman," he interrupted me,
saying, " Look here. Wise, do you think I was put
here to settle rows over fourth-class postmasters ?
What can I do?" I knew how stubborn old
Grover is when combed the wrong way, and I
thought my case was lost. " Now, Mr. President,"
said I, " you ask ' What can I do ? ' You can, if you
will, do the nicest little thing you ever did in your
life, and it will not be very troublesome. Just
write on a card: 'Postmaster General: Take no
further action concerning Walkerton post-office
until you hear from me.' Sign this and give it to
me and I'U forgive you for going back on me about

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 183
that snipe hunt." He set his head sideways and
his face rippled into a smile. He said: " No. You
leave the address and I'll write the letter. I must
go now. ' ' I thanked him and was withdrawing when
he called me back. " Say, for fear the letter may
not reach there in time, you'd better drive by the
Department and tell Bissell it's coming." Nobody
ever did a kindness more graciously than Mr.
Cleveland. Certain of the result, I returned to
New York after calling at Mr. Bissell's office as
directed by the President. When I told Mr.
Bissell, he said: " Glad of it. Now Jones and the
President can fight it out. But, Mr. Wise,"
added the Postmaster General, " the charge is that
your man is an 'offensive partisan,' and that he
talks politics." Stealing close to him I said im
pressively, in a low voice: " Whatever other charge
I may be unable to disprove, I can knock that
charge into a cocked hat. My man is deaf and
dumb." I never afterward met Secretary Bissell
that he did not ask me if my man was still talk
ing politics. When I reached home I wrote Turner
that he was all right provided he did not talk
politics. Turner died in office long after McKin-
ley's election, and I told him to hang Grover
Cleveland and Harrison's pictures side by side.
He always had nicknames for his favourites. His
name for Mr. Cleveland was " Old Durham." He
said he looked like John B. Davis's (a neighbour
of his) Durham bull, which he admired greatly.

1 84 RECOLLECTIONS OF
In time the President's abbreviated name in all
our correspondence became "O. D.," just as mine
was "S.-p." Another year passed by and I heard
no more of Turner and his office.
One day, on the cars, Hoknes Conrad, a Demo
crat, met me. He was an office-holder under
Cleveland in Washington. "Look here," said he,
"what sort of a. pull is this you have with the
'old man'?" "PuU? Old man?" said I, for I
was not thinking of the subject. "What pull?
What old man?" "Why, Mr. Cleveland, of
course," said he. "That's what we call him."
" I have not seen Mr. Cleveland for six months,"
said I. " What are you talking about? " " Harry
Tucker told me all I know," replied Conrad
laughing. "He says you whipped out the whole
Virginia delegation." Curious to hear more, I
probed him, and he told me the following: " Harry
Tucker says that some months ago Billy Jones
called upon him and the other Virginia members
to go up with him to the White House in a body
to see the President about a post-office concerning
which he considered himself badly treated. So
on a certain moming they assembled and demon
strated in force. They were all there and Jones
was to be spokesman. Old Grover seemed to be
in a very good humor. 'Well, gentlemen, what
can I do for you,' said he smiling. ' Mr. President,'
began Jones, 'we have come to see you about a
matter in which I think I have been badly treated.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 185
It is conceming the post-office at Walkerton.' As
he uttered the word Walkerton the President's
whole manner changed. He looked at Jones and
said sharply: 'What's the name of the post
master?' 'Turner,' was the reply. 'Is he deaf
and dumb ?' inquired the President. 'Yes.' 'And
you want to tum him out?' Said he, 'Yes.'
'Well that ends it! I won't do it. There are
2,000 post-offices in Virginia. You may have
1,999 of "them. This one is mine. D-n Walker
ton. That man is deaf and dumb. And he
breaks John Wise's dogs. Turning him out would
be as mean as striking a woman. I will not do it.
Good-day, gentlemen.' And he tumed on his
heel and walked away, leaving them utterly
dumbfounded." It was the first I had heard of it. It probably
explains in some degree why Congressman Jones
became an enemy of Cleveland, and how he became
such an ardent silverite and advocate of Bryan.
One night, years afterward, I told the story in a
party at which Mr. Cleveland was present, and he
laughed his jolly, shaking laugh, commenting at
its conclusion: "Those fellows made as big a row
over that little post-office as if it had been First
Auditor of the Treasury."
Since the retirement of Cleveland from office,
I have seen much more of him than ever before,
and I have always found him a congenial com
panion and kind friend. In order to appreciate

1 86 RECOLLECTIONS OF
him one must have been with him as I have. On
two occasions he has honored me by visits to
my shooting and fishing place in Virginia. First
of all he is a thorough sportsman. I have seen
his patience tried both as fisherman and gunner,
and in this quality he is perfect. He has had
as good wild-fowl shooting as any man in the
United States, yet I have known him to sit
on a calm, sunshiny day, in a duck-blind for ten
consecutive hours, with nothing but a simple
luncheon to break his fast and nothing but
whistlers and buffle-heads coming in to his decoys,
and return home at night with nothing but a dozen
" trash " ducks, as the gunners call them, as content
and uncomplaining as if he had enjoyed real sport.
Then, on a fishing excursion, I have seen him
when the boat went aground; when the bait gave
out; when the oil in the steam-launch became
exhausted and we were delayed several hours;
when we were caught in a summer squall; in all
sorts of trying and worrying predicaments; and
no man in the party took his " streak of lean along
with his streak of fat" more stoically or more
complacently than Mr. Cleveland. On one of our
excursions a dear little fellow from the neighbour
hood was of the party. He had good dogs, and
had joined us to aid in giving the ex-President
good sport. He was the very opposite of Mr.
Cleveland in physique. The two conceived a great
fancy for each other, and as Mr. Cleveland was

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 187
particularly anxious to do some quail shooting they
sallied forth together, presenting a most amusing
contrast as the big ex-President walked along with
a companion at his side looking like his little boy.
But the birds had been badly shot off, and the ex-
President was not a first-class pedestrian, so I
think they had but indifferent sport. To my sur
prise, I found that Mr. Cleveland ate very moder
ately and was even abstemious in the use of liquors.
In the latter respect he has been grossly misrepre
sented. He shone best in the evening gatherings,
when the cigars were lit and merry conversation
went round. He is one of those men who loves
companionship, and seems to inspire good fellow
ship without at any time taking an active part in
the conversation himself. What he most enjoyed
was a game of cribbage with his devoted friend,
Commodore Benedict, while the others of us kept
up a running fire of anecdote and reminiscence.
He seems to possess the faculty of paying attention
to his game and at the same time enjoying to the
fuU the conversation about him. I think I never
saw any man who delighted as he does in negro
dialect stories, and I had one story about the burial
of Corporal Billy Gilliam which the President has
made me repeat to him I think a dozen times. I
can see him now, in fancy, with his eyes shut until
they were like mere slits in his face, his ex
pressive mouth puckered in laugh-provoking merri
ment and his body shaking all over, as I told him

1 88 RECOLLECTIONS OF
about the band burying Billy to the tune of
" Hop Light, Ladies." There is, too, a serious and
most attractive side to the ex-President, which I
will venture to mention. In our strolls about the
beautiful Cape, we sometimes talked of the difficul
ties of the Presidential office. I recall one evening
when we were out walking alone. He was inter
ested in some of the farm work, and we had been
to inspect it. The sun had set across the noble
Chesapeake, which lies to westward, and we
strolled along in the brilliant afterglow. He
enjoyed the sight of the water and the great pines
and the light of the gloaming. Suddenly he said :
" Do you know that I ought to have a monument
over me when I die?" "I am sure of that, Mr.
President," I answered, "but for what particular
service?" "Oh! Not for anything I have ever
done," said he, " but for the foolishness I have put
a stop to. If you knew the absurd things proposed
to me at various times while I have been in public
life, and which I sat down — and sat down hard —
upon, you would say so too!" I knew full well
that what he said was true, and, although I need
not enter into any details, this country does owe
Mr. Cleveland an everlasting debt of gratitude for
having driven what President Harrison described
as a " wild team " safely to the end of his journey.
I observed in Mr. Cleveland an inexpressible
tenderness for his family. He frequently talked
in the sweetest way of his wife and his children.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 189
The political world has never dealt kindly with
Mr. Cleveland. The press has seemed at times to
delight in circulating rumours and aspersions about
his family relations. No doubt at times Mr.
Cleveland has been brusque and peremptory — rude,
if you like the term better — with certain people,
but that gave them no excuse for lying about him,
invading the sanctity of his domestic life, and
circulating false stories about his wife and children.
Perhaps it was done with devilish malignity to
wound him in a point where they knew he was
vulnerable. For, much as the public has been
encouraged to look upon Mr. Cleveland as inca
pable of the finer sensibilities, I never saw a man
who had family pride and affection more fully
developed, or who felt more keenly the injustice of
such assaults. This sort of attack, mean and low
as it is, brings malice its satisfaction, and the
public little knows the torture which it inflicts upon
public men. Few men are exempt from its virus.
Perhaps no two men of our day were generally sup
posed to be more impervious to the sting of
slander than General Benjamin F. Butler and
Colonel Robert G. IngersoU. I knew them both
well, and I can truly say that I believe they were
about as thin-skinned and sensitive to criticism
as any two men I ever saw, and that it made them
as wretched as any two men I ever knew. I have
not mentioned them in connection with Mr.
Cleveland because there was any sort of similarity

I90 RECOLLECTIONS OF
between them and him, but to emphasize the point
that this sort of traduction is a powerful instrument
of torture to men in public life, and that it is a
great mistake to imagine that its falsehood, or their
vanity or insensibility or even consciousness of
right, much lessens the sting of its injustice.
I had an opportunity of seeing how it had em
bittered Mr. Cleveland. On one occasion, soon
after President McKinley's death, we were dis
cussing it, and all agreed that it was a sad,
sad thing to see a man so happy and with so
much to live for, and so beloved, cut down in the
bloom of his life and strength. Mr. Cleveland took
part in the conversation. "I don't know," said
he " whether, after all, McKinley's life, sad as was
its ending, was not, taking into consideration
everything, to be envied. It is true he was struck
down by an assassin. But he never was 'assas
sinated' in his lifetime. Think of the kindness
with which he and his wife were always treated
while he lived. There was nothing lovable and
kind that could be uttered about him or her
which was not said at all times. Somehow he
seemed to possess the faculty of evoking charitable
judgment and kind treatment. If I could have
had that sort of thing as long and as uniformly
as he did, I believe I would have been willing
to pay the price he has paid. I do not understand
how some men have the milk of human kindness
always offered to their lips, whUe others, without

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 19 1
deserving less charitable treatment, have the cup
of gall and wormwood thrust upon them constantly.
Bodily death is by no means the worst tor
ture which a man can suffer. The torture of
lies and misrepresentations affecting what is
dearest to us in life is infinitely worse than the
mere physical pain of dying." I do not pretend
that these were his exact words, but they give the
substance of his speech, and when I heard that cry
of a strong man in his agony I wished that every
kindly heart in this broad land could have heard
it. It would have been a final refutation of the
dirty and disreputable falsehoods which small
malice has industriously whispered against him
and his loved ones at times, even in the remotest
comers of the land he has served so well. But
thank God such calumnies have never undermined
the faith of the people in the manhood, the in
tegrity, the honesty of Cleveland. With the
single exception perhaps of his young successor,
Roosevelt, he has a stronger hold upon the masses
than any man in all America, and the importance
he gave to the slanders referred to sprang, perhaps,
in great degree from over-sensitiveness.

BENJAMIN HARRISON

XL— BENJAMIN HARRISON
I KNEW General Harrison for some years before
he was elected to the Presidency.
He was a Senator from Indiana when I was in
the lower house. His wife was a daughter of
Doctor Scott, who had been professor at Washing
ton College, Pennsylvania, when my father was
a student there, and remembered him well and
kindly. The Harrison family and our own in
Virginia were connected in many ways, and
Senator Harrison was my political friend and a
firm believer in the possibility of building up a
strong, respectable Republican party in Virginia.
From all these causes I knew him fairly well —
as well, I presume, as most people knew him, for
he was not an approachable man and had few
intimate friendships. Benjamin Harrison illus
trated a phase of human nature which is very
common. He seemed desirous of being considered
just what he was not and that which he could not
be, however hard he might try — a Virginia
Harrison. True, his grandfather was a Virginia
Harrison. The Senator, while not ostentatious
about it, loved to talk with those he knew well,
about the Virginia Harrisons and was evidently
proud, and justly so, of a coimection which included
19s

196 RECOLLECTIONS OF
so many typical and representative Virginians. In
a word, in his innermost heart it pleased him to feel
that he was one of them. He did indeed have two
prominent traits of the Harrisons, for he was
fond of shooting and a religious enthusiast, and
many of them have been sportsmen and religious
enthusiasts. He utterly lacked another prominent
family trait, for many of the Virginia branch have
dearly loved whisky. My father, who knew them
all and loved them, but had a way of saying what
he pleased, generalized Harrison traits by saying
that he never knew a Harrison who was not a
gentleman, but that they were inclined to .run
to extremes — some in the love of God, and others
in the love of whisky. It was a great and a good
family of people, and the individuals composing
it were lovable, whether possessed by spiritual or
spirituous fervour. The pride of General Harrison
in being a member of it was perfectly natural.
But he overlooked the fact that he had a mother
as well as a father, when he thought he was a
Virginia Harrison. His mother was from a typical
New England family, and if there is a place in the
world where the New Englander is more of a New
Englander than he is in New England, it is the
Western Reserve of Ohio, where Benjamin Harrison
was born and reared by a mother of New England
descent. In appearance, in manners in everything but
name, he was as unlike a Virginian as a man

BENJAMIN HARRLSON
Twenty third president of the United States (1889-9;,;

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 197
could well be. I must not be understood as infer
ring by this that it was to his disadvantage. I simply
state the fact without drawing or inferring any con
clusion from it, because I think he would have
liked to be considered just what he was not.
The Virginia Harrisons were as a class fine,
strapping men. In my day I recall many hand
some specimens. There was old Mr. Peyton
Harrison of Clifton, who looked like Moses or
Aaron; Mr. William B. Harrison of Brandon,
a singularly lovable man; Julian Harrison, the
handsomest officer in Stuart's cavalry; "Red"
Randolph of Elk HiU, and "Black" Randolph
of Amphill; William M. Harrison and Wirt
Harrison of Richmond; and Carter Harrison,
" Black George," " Big George," " Little George,"
Burleigh and Shirley, and Lord knows how many
more. All large-framed, open-eyed, splendid
specimens of men. Some spiritually and some
spirituously inclined, but all gentlemen of singular
suavity and all typical Virginians. I never saw but
one Virginia Harrison resembling the President
in physique, and that was the late Dr. George
Byrd Harrison, formerly of Brandon, but for years
before his death of Washington, D. C.
Benjamin Harrison was in stature a small man.
He was what, in horses, would be known as an
undersized, pony-built sorrel, with flaxen mane
and tail. He did not look either strong or healthy.
His hair and beard and eyelashes were sandy and

198 RECOLLECTIONS OF
had a sunburnt look. He was dish-faced, and
his eyes were small, bright, and with a cunning
look that gave little outward expression of the
great power which the man unquestionably pos
sessed. His form was not imposing. He was
generaUy attired in a black, double-breasted coat
buttoned across an obtrusive up-standing little
stomach. He showed an inclination to round
shoulders, and stood reared back, creating the
impression of a small man trying to look large.
During his Senatorial days he was an unsociable,
solitary, dreamy man. I have more than once
observed him pacing up and down the grass-
plot in front of his Washington residence, his
hands interlocked behind him, looking as if lost in
dreams and abstractions, and at such times his
most intimate friend might pass near him without
receiving the slightest recognition. Respect every
body had for him, but few felt any affection for
him. He was an industrious worker in the Senate
and wielded decided influence. He was a well-
trained, sound and astute lawyer. In private con
versation his voice was inclined to a nasal drawl,
but this disappeared when he spoke in pubUc.
There was a coldness and indifference in his
manner in private which was very repellent, and
absolutely different from the effect he produced
when speaking. He was not only one of the
wisest men of his time in all his public utterances,
but, in public speaking, he warmed up and

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 199
grew up to his thoughts in such manner that
none of his contemporaries surpassed him in
the power of arousing the enthusiasm of an
audience. The story was told — how true it was I do not know
— that in one of his railroad campaigns through
Indiana he was making a series of those remarkable
speeches for which he became famous, and at
every place he stopped the crowds who listened
would become wildly enthusiastic. Then he would
hold a reception in the car and the people, after
shaking hands with him, would pass out of the
other end of the car silent and depressed, as if
suffering from a chill. A wag in the party, who
was particularly anxious that the good effect of
his speech should not be lost in a certain town,
pulled the bell-rope and started the train as soon
as Harrison stopped speaking. When chided for
it he said: "Don't talk to me. I know my
business. Ben Harrison had the crowd red-hot.
I did not want him to freeze it out of them with
his hand-shaking."
This peculiarly repellent manner of General
Harrison was the subject of constant ridicule
among his political adversaries. The following
quip of a bright young Democratic Congressman
from Indiana is too good to omit. One day I
mentioned a talk I had had with the then Senator.
"Did he look yon in the eyes?" asked the young
Congressman. "ReaUy I cannot say whether he

200 RECOLLECTIONS OF
did or not," said I. But I had noticed this
peculiarity. In talking to one the Senator had
the habit of looking down, or looking over one's
shoulder, or looking away, as if in abstraction,
only glancing at his interlocutor now and then
with a sort of furtive or secretive or cunning look.
"Oh! Get out," said the saucy fellow. "You
know he didn't. He never does. He reminds
me of the pig that sees the wind. " " Now what do
you mean by that?" I exclaimed, my curiosity
excited. He answered: "Why, you were raised in
the country. Don't you know how the pigs in
winter time, when a nor'easter is blowing, stand
with their noses pointing to the breeze and with
eyes half shut, squeal and squeal. When the
niggers see 'em doing that they say, ' Dar, look at
him. He can see de wind.' That's just like Ben
Harrison when he's talking to you."
Another thing about Senator Harrison was the
impression which he created that he was not a
happy man. He certainly ought not to have
been a disappointed man, for in most things he
was blessed; and he may not have been unhappy,
but he did not seem to be possessed of great
capacity for happiness. He had a sweet home
and a lovely wife and daughter and was devoted
to his little grandchUd, whom everybody knew
as "Baby McKee." But he no doubt had his
disappointments, as other people have, and we wiU
not discuss what they were. When the National

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 201
Republican Convention of 1888 assembled in
Chicago, I went from Virginia with a contesting
delegation, and as the result of the contest became
chairman of the Virginia delegation. The prom
inent candidates were Mr. Sherman, Mr. Blaine
and Mr. Gresham. General Harrison had a fair
local support, and General Alger's friends put him
forward with great enthusiasm. If ever a man
deserved a nomination for long and faithful service
it was John Sherman. All my predilections were
for him. But he never had the ghost of a show.
In the first place, the cold temperament of Mr.
Sherman prevented his having ardent friends.
The Ohio delegation was not united in sincere
advocacy of his claims, and some of them were
ready, from the start, to desert him for Blaine or
Harrison or McKinley. At one time a demonstra
tion was started in the Convention in favour of
McKinley which might have assumed formidable
proportions, but he rose in his seat and in an
impassioned way begged the Convention not to
put him in a false position. He said that no
power on earth would tempt him to betray his
aged friend, Mr. Sherman, and that it was an out
rage upon him to place him in the attitude of even
submitting quietly to such a suggestion. But
the Alger men had no qualms of conscience about
making inroads upon Mr. Sherman's delegates.
Alger's people opened a fine headquarters, and the
way the Southem negro delegates, who had come

202 RECOLLECTIONS OF
instructed for Sherman, swarmed to the Michigan
man's standard and came away bearing Alger
badges on their breasts was the very irony of
fate. Sherman had championed the rights of the
black man for thirty years; yet, when the time
to reward him came, they betrayed him for thirty
pieces of silver, in the face of positive instructions.
Such treatment must have embittered his last
days. It was evident that Sherman must be dropped,
and Alger never had any chance. Gresham had
friends, but that he also was weak and had enemies
was demonstrated by an episode that occurred
with Colonel Bob IngersoU. IngersoU was not a
delegate, but in the recess of the Convention
distinguished men were called upon to make short
addresses. No man had a higher reputation as
a platform orator than IngersoU and he was
exceedingly popular. When he came to the
speakers' stand there was a whirlwind of applause,
which was converted into absolute silence as he
began to speak. His utterances caught the im
mense gathering from the start, and after he saw
he had his audience well in hand he began to
picture, in his inimitable way, his conception of
the qualities which an ideal President should
possess. It was a gorgeous piece of imagery, and
we almost caught our breath as he reached his
climax. Then, with an impressive pause, he rose
to his full height and exclaimed: "If asked who.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 203
in all America, possesses preeminently these
transcendent attributes of statesmanship, I would
answer, without a moment's pause, Walter Q.
Gresham!" There was a moment of silence, for the trick was
so deftly tumed that the real significance of all
he had been saying was not comprehended until
that instant. Then pandemonium broke loose.
Of course the Greshamites tried to cheer, but
everybody not for Gresham felt that IngersoU
had availed himself of a courtesy to usurp the
function of a delegate and create a diversion in
favour of his friend. There were yells, and hisses,
and cat-calls, and cries of "put-him-out," and
cheering for every other candidate, until IngersoU,
after vainly trying to proceed, left the platform and
came out of the Auditorium, mad as a hatter and
denouncing the crowd in such a string of oaths as
only he could invoke. IngersoU felt that insult
all his life, and I never thought he was as enthusi
astic a Republican afterward. It was perhaps the
only time in his whole life that an audience broke
away from the spell of his captivating oratory
and refused to listen to him further, although he
had often spoken shocking things to hostile
hearers. Blaine was abroad and in bad health. But he
had a majority of the convention. Some of his
friends established communication with him. I
think he was in Florence. They beseeched him

204 RECOLLECTIONS OF
to aUow them to use his name, and assured him
of the numination. While awaiting his response
an informal conference was held, presided over
by Foraker of Ohio, to ascertain how many votes
might be relied upon for Blaine if his name was
placed in nomination. Some amusing things
occurred. There was an inquiry by States. When
Louisiana was called, a coal-black giant arose,
and this is about what he said: "Mr. Cheerman,
I don't hardly know how to answer for Looseanner.
When we fust cum here we wus all for Mr. Blaine.
He is de chile o' our hearts. But when de news
wus dat he weren't gwine to be in de runnin' de
boys begun to do a little stroke of business fur
derselves, an' I kaint rightly tell you jess how de
delligashun will stand on de fust ballot, fur I
expects a good many o' de boys has made dere
contracks fur at least one mo' ballot and wouldn't
like to break 'em. But, sir, I knows wher dar
hearts is, and, if you'll jess give 'em time to plow
out dere rows, I is sho' dey'U all be back to
Mr. Blaine by de time de second ballot comes."
A roar of laughter greeted this announcement.
Blaine's answer came, positively declining the
nomination on the score of ill health. He was
right, for he died soon afterward. Then we
determined to unite on Harrison, and he was soon
nominated. Immediately in front of us sat the
Vermont delegation. It was solid from first to
last in favour of Harrison, and Redfield Proctor,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 205
the chairman, never failed, one very roll-call, to
deliver in deep stentorian voice this answer:
"Vermont casts her eight votes solidly for Ben
jamin Harrison." When on the final ballot
Harrison won, Mr. Proctor received a great
ovation, and Harrison made him his Secretary of
War. I there formed a friendship with Mr.
Proctor which has lasted until the present day.
It fell to my lot to make one of the speeches in
the Convention, ratifying Harrison's nomination.
Everybody was feeling well and I did my best.
It must have been a taking speech, for although it
was made nearly seventeen years ago, I still meet
men who recall with flattering vividness my
description of the Virginia thoroughbred now un-
blanketed and led out upon the track to contest
for the great prize with the long-fetlocked New
York Conestoga.
The speech was only extemporaneous, and I
thought at the time it was original. Since then,
reading over again Shakespeare's "Venus and
Adonis," I have often wondered how far it in
fluenced me in the picture I drew. I had not read
it for some time at the time I made the speech, but
am satisfied that the pigeon-holes of memory are
so full in the mind of every man who reads much
that he frequently uses their stores without being
conscious of the fact.
At any rate, the speech put me in the good
graces of General Harrison, and he wrote me a

2o6 RECOLLECTIONS OF
nice letter of acknowledgment to my then home in
Richmond, Virginia. Afterward he sent my oldest
son to West Point, a position which he could hardly
have hoped for if he had depended on Congressional
appointment. I removed to New York to live
in the autumn of 1888, and business called me to
Indianapolis before General Harrison's inaugura
tion. He welcomed me very kindly to his home,
and I had a pleasant dinner with the family.
One little circumstance I recall most vividly.
General Harrison prided himself upon his carving.
He had a turkey before him, and whetted his knife
with great particularity. He was an adept, but
worked differently from anyone else I ever saw
carve. With a very sharp knife he sliced the
breast of the bird, at right angles to the breast
bone, until it was thoroughly divided. Then he
made a deep incision lengthwise along the line
of the breast-bone, and with the full length of the
blade separated the whole half of the breast from
the body and lifted it to a dish, where it lay already
carved transversely. " Did you ever see anybody
else do that?" said he, with manifest pride. I
tmthfuUy told him that I never did, and I'm glad
I did not, for cross-cut turkey is not half as good as
turkey carved with the fibre of the flesh.
Soon after his inauguration the President noti
fied me of his purpose to nominate my son as a
cadet to West Point. His kindness was too prompt.
I had not expected the honour until the following

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 207
year. The boy was very young, almost too young,
to go. I thanked the President and inquired
whether I might not postpone acceptance until
the following year. He gave me no encourage
ment to hope for another designation and said
there were others waiting, so as it was a "now-or-
never" offer, I accepted, and for five years that
boy, who was too young to have been sent there,
hung by the skin of his eyelids to the Military
Academy, and finally graduated. During all that
time I was in an agony of apprehension lest he
should fail, and since his graduation have given
West Point a wide berth. It is the coldest,
hardest spot on earth, absolutely free from all
sentimental consideration in its exaction that
every cadet shall attain a certain standard.
Of course that is right. It is what makes West
Point what it is. But it does not make it a cheer
ful, loving place for anybody, especially anybody
in trouble. The wheels go round, and anybody
who falls under them is ground to powder without
even a glance backward at the remains.
President Harrison was the only man I ever saw
who could do another man a favour in such a way
that all the sweetness and appreciation and sense
of gratitude was gone from it, and this was the
trouble with him in many instances. His personal
characteristics alienated many who would other
wise have supported him. Mrs. Harrison died
during the latter part of his term, so near indeed

2o8 RECOLLECTIONS OF
to the time of election that I do not doubt his
inabiUty on that account to make a series of cam
paign speeches contributed largely to his defeat.
Shortly before the election I had occasion to
write to him upon a matter somewhat confidential,
pertaining to the conduct of his canvass and
received a characteristic letter which, while it was
exceedingly kind, shows the sublime self-confidence
of the man. Somehow he did not possess the
faculty of attaching subordinates to him. And
while his selections of his Cabinet were in the
main wise, many of his smaller appointments
were of men who were not loyal to him and who
misrepresented him. At times, when he detected
them, he was very direct and offensive to them.
I recall an instance in which a subordinate had
made representations to me which upon conference
with the President I found were untrue. Unfortu
nately for the offender, he put in an appearance
while I was in the President's office and,being inter
rogated in my presence, could not deny his guilt.
I never heard anybody rebuke another more
severely than the President rebuked him ; but for
some reason, perhaps political, the fellow was
retained. He ought to have been summarily
dismissed. He was a traitor to the Administra
tion before that, and no doubt hated the President
afterward. The service was filled with men like him,
and the secret influence of such antagonists no
doubt contributed to President Harrison's defeat,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 209
President Harrison was not a great man. He
possessed political sagacity to a marked degree,
and in that sense may be justly classed as a wise
man ; but his was the wisdom of intense selfishness
and caution, which distinctly differs from the
broad, generous wisdom of really great men.
He was in no sense a bad man. On the con
trary, he commanded the respect and the confidence
of those who knew him most intimately. But
there was a singular lack of personal magnetism
in the man or enthusiasm for the man, even
among those who were his ardent political
supporters.

WILLIAM McKINLEY

XII.-WILLIAM McKINLEY
One of the first men with whom I became ac
quainted when I entered the House of Representa
tives as a member was William McKinley, then
called by all his associates Major McKinley, and it
came about in this wise:
At the close of the war a gentleman named
Louis Schaefer, a resident of Canton, Ohio, opened
a correspondence with my father. Mr. Schaefer
was one of the best men I ever knew. He was a
German. Although he resided in Ohio he thor
oughly sympathised with the South throughout
the war, and now that she was defeated he ex
pressed himself as anxious to contribute out of his
abundance to the relief of her poverty. Soon
after the war ended he and his wife visited
Richmond for the sole purpose of meeting my
father personally. At his home in Canton he was
universally regarded as a public-spirited citizen,
and although his views antagonised the Union senti
ment about him, and no doubt made enemies by
the boldness with which he expressed his opinions,
he nevertheless commanded the respect of his com
munity and a great dea;l of affection. My father
was interested in an asylum for the care of orphans
of Confederate soldiers. Mr. Schaefer made a

214 RECOLLECTIONS OF
handsome contribution to that object. He was
always actively interested in politics, and corres
ponded voluminously with my father on the sub
ject. About 1870 he induced my nephew, after his
graduation in law, to go to Canton to practise his
profession, and he became a member of Mr.
Schaef er's household during several years residence
there. I may mention incidentally that one of
Mr. Schaefer's daughters afterward married a
young attorney named William R. Day, who sub
sequently became Attomey General and Secretary
of State under McKinley and is now an Associate
Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States.
When my nephew, the former protege of Mr.
Schaefer, was married, about 1872, Mr. Schaefer
came to his wedding near Richmond and we had a
jolly time together. It is needless to add that
Mr. Schaefer was a rabid Democrat, and that in
those days he hated Republicans and Republican
ism, and thought that " No good can come out of
Nazareth." I doubted, when I became a Repub
lican, whether I should have the endorsement of my
father's old friend, but one of the first letters of
congratulation which I received was from Mr.
Schaefer, who added that he was particularly
anxious I should meet his representative. Major
McKinley, "the only RepubUcan I support." I
was naturally anxious to know one whose personal
attractiveness could overcome such prejudices as
I knew Mr. Schaefer felt.

Copyright. IQOO, by C. Parker.
WILLIAM McKINLEY
The twenty-fifth president of the ignited States. Was elected in 1S96 and
reelected in 1900. Died .September 14, 1901, during the second
administration.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 215
It was not difficult to find Major McKinley. He
was studiously present at all sessions, a clean
shaven, sweet-faced, approachable man, who
seemed to have as many friends on one side of the
House as on the other. Our seats were near to
gether. I first met him in the barber shop of the
House, where the barbers vied with each other to
make it pleasant for the Major. He was lolling
back in a chair, with an unlit cigar in his mouth,
when I walked up to him, told him of our common
acquaintance and introduced myself. McKinley
was a genial soul and, when pleased, had a
peculiar light in his eyes. He was fond of Mr.
Schaefer, and appreciated the exception to political
prejudices which he had made in his favour.
From that hour we were good friends.
One day, while the Fitz John Porter case was
under discussion in the House, McKinley gave a
party of us assembled in the cloak-room an inter
esting account of how, although he was a Union
soldier and resident of Ohio, he became a Mason
in the lodge at Winchester, Virginia, during the
war. He said he was stationed at Winchester
in the winter of 1864, and that Judge Richard
Parker, a citizen of the town, was conspicuously
active in alleviating the suffering of the people.
This brought him into frequent contact with the
Federal authorities. They all conceived a fondness
for the old gentleman, which he in tum soon
reciprocated. One of the Federal officers was

2x6 RECOLLECTIONS OF
a prominent Mason and discovered that Judge
Parker was Master of the Winchester lodge.
The lodge room had been dismantled and was
probably occupied by Federal troops, but the
faithful Master had all the paraphemaUa in his
possession. The Federal officer proposed to him
to re-open the lodge. At first, as a loyal Con
federate, he opposed the idea, but at last yielded
to the argument that Masonry was a universal
brotherhood, and that its teachings would be
pecuUarly available then and there to mitigate
the hardships of war. So the lodge was re-opened,
and a number of Masons in the Federal Army
attended its meetings. Masonry became a fad
among the uninitiated in Winchester, and Mc
Kinley, among others, joined.
McKinley was a great peacemaker. He dis
couraged all kinds of acrimony in the debates.
I am afraid I cannot say the same for myself. I
think and have always thought that it is a good
thing now and then to tell a political opponent
just what you think of him.
One day I had a royal tilt with a peppery old
member from Indiana, who threatened that when
my contest was reached I would be unseated.
McKinley, after it was all over, took occasion to
give me some friendly advice: " Don't allow them
to draw you into such controversies. No good
can come of them. You may provoke them into
turning you out. I have a contest. But you

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 217
never hear of that. I go on about my business and
am not even ashamed to make myself useful by
working hard on their committees. You ought to
do the same. I like you and don't want to see you
tumed out, but, if you taunt them and defy them,
as you do, you will tempt them to unseat you."
My case was never voted on. One day, toward
the close of the session, Mr. Turner of Georgia,
chairman of the Committee of Elections, a sallow
tacitum man, with no bowels of mercy for a
political opponent, called up the contested election
case of Wallace versus McKinley and, after a
brief debate, in which no sort of consideration
was shown him, McKinley was unseated. His
defeat did not amount to much, for his term was
nearly ended, and he was already re-elected to the
next House, but he took it very solemnly. I was
sorry for him, but could not resist a little badinage.
I passed by his desk where he stood tying up his
papers preparing to depart, with the resigned air
of a Christian martyr. "Old fellow," said I, "I
feel awfully about this. But you brought it all
upon yourself. You would not listen to my advice.
If you had gone along quietly, and had not
attracted attention to your case by wrangling and
abusing your political opponents, you might have
finished your term undisturbed. Look at me!
Why did you not follow my example?"
McKinley had big, sad eyes when he was de
pressed. Turning them toward me with a pained

2i8 RECOLLECTIONS OF
expression, he saw no joke in what I was saymg
and contented himself by replying: "I think
that sort of thing is, under the circumstances,
very unkind." When the sting of his defeat wore
off he enjoyed the way I had turned the tables on
him and fully forgave me.
In the National Convention of 1888 I saw a great
deal of him. After his indignant rebuke of those
who tried to spring a nomination upon him, when
he was instructed for Sherman, I went over and
sat beside him. Said I: "I never felt so proud
of you as when you spumed that sort of double
dealing. Your chance will come. But this is not
the time. You could not afford to take such a
nomination." He thanked me, took my Virginia badge off my
breast and pinned his in its place. It gave me an
idea. I went about the hall and procured the
badges worn by numerous leaders from different
States and took them home with me, for my wife
to make a crazy quilt of them. That was the
passing fad of that day among ladies. But
although I still have the badges worn by McKinley,
Secretary Thompson of Indiana, Senators Quay,
Allison and many others, they have not yet been
worked up into a quilt.
At that time there was intense rivalry among the
factions in Ohio. One of the Ohio leaders saw
McKinley and myself talking together. He per
haps tried to eavesdrop. He probably caught the

Photograph by Charles Parker, Washington.
"MARK" HANNA
U. S. Senator from Ohio (1897-1905).

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 219
words, " This is not the time." I may mention as
illustrative of political meanness that he went about
whispering that the demonstration in favour of
McKinley had been planned, and was known in
advance to McKinley, and that he heard me apolo
gising for its miscarriage by telling him it had not
been started at the proper time. I was in Colum
bus, Ohio, the day of McKinley's inauguration as
Governor. He was exceedingly kind to me and
invited me to accompany him, but I could not
do so.
On the 22nd of February, 1894 or 1895, Mc
Kinley, William J. Bryan and I were the speakers
at the banquet of the Union League Club,
Chicago. McKinley nevpr was an ornate orator.
I heard him on many occasions and his speeches,
with the exception of those on the tariff,
conceming which he was always interesting, and
one speech I heard him deliver to veterans at
a re-union in Buffalo, were not very attractive.
Of course the glamour of the Presidency makes
ordinary speeches sound fine and read well, but I
repeat that McKinley was no orator. And the
speech made that night by William Jennings
Bryan was below, rather than above, mediocrity.
It was a distinct disappointment, and he said
himself that it was a failure. I had heard so
much of him that I was sorely disappointed.
Since then he has undoubtedly made many
stirring appeals, but that was the only speech I

220 RECOLLECTIONS OF
ever heard from Bryan from beginning to end
until I heard him speak at the Gridiron Club in
Washington in 1905, when he made a speech
that was a model of good taste, good temper and
kind feeling. I will leave it to someone else, if
anybody feels interest enough in the subject to
refer to it again, to tell what sort of speech I made.
I spoke on the subject of George Washington the
Virginian. During the two years prior to his nomination for
the Presidency McKinley was frequently in New
York. He usually stopped at the ill-fated Windsor
Hotel, and I saw a great deal of him. I remember
particularly one visit that he paid to my house.
Henry Irving had been civil to me when I was
in London. Some time in the winter of 1894-5
he was playing in New York. I was anxious to
entertain him, but the only way to get at him
was to have him after the theatre. I lived at that
time in a small house in Forty-fourth Street. I
had some Chesapeake Bay terrapin, Virginia hams
and Old Plantation oysters. Irving and his
right bower Bram Stoker, a prince of good feUows,
agreed to come, and my first idea was to have
half a dozen friends to meet them. But the party
expanded until I think we had when we assembled
at midnight twenty-seven men present, and it was
a remarkable gathering. I do not recaU them aU,
but Elihu Root, General Horace Porter, John W.
Mackay, Colonel Tom Ochiltree, Joe Jefferson,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 221
WiUiam J. Florence, Mr. O. D. Minen of the
Scientific American, and John Cadwalader were
of the party, and in the midst of it in came
Governor McKinley and his staff. On his staff
were the present Governor of Ohio, Myron T.
Herrick, and Colonel James H. Hoyt. My poor
little house was crowded to overflowing. We
found it necessary to place card tables in the
drawing room to accommodate some of the party.
It was a literal go-as-you-please entertainment,
but the fare was good and the company took it
good-naturedly. McKinley particularly enjoyed
it. It was an all-night affair. Irving, who was a
night-owl, stayed tmtil five o'clock a. m. Some
one who heard of it jocularly asked him why he
did not remain for breakfast. With a look of
perplexity and a characteristic grimace he said,
with a drawl, " How could I ? The hot water gave
out. We could not drink cold Scotch whisky
after daybreak."
On many occasions afterward McKinley re
ferred to the hilarity and fun of that night, for
while he himself was not much of a fun-maker he
enjoyed bright company.
When the time came for the Presidential Con
vention of 1896, Senator Piatt sought to secure
a solid delegation from New York in favor
of Governor and ex- Vice-President Morton. For
some reason he did not want McKinley, and used
Morton as a pretext for his opposition. He an-

222 RECOLLECTIONS OF
nounced that he would have a solid Morton
delegation, but six McKinley delegates contested.
As I recall them, they were Hon. Cornelius N.
Bliss, Colonel S. Van Rensselaer Cruger, General
Anson G. McCook, General C. H. T. CoUins, WiUiam
Brookfield, and I forget the other. I was selected
as the lawyer to present their case at the Conven
tion. Mr. Bliss and Colonel Cruger came to an
agreement to divide with Howard Carroll and
William Barnes, their opponents and friends, but
my other four clients were seated on contest. I
also represented two contestants from Virginia, who
were given half seats. We had a jolly good time
in St. Louis, and, as I was not a delegate and my
work was done, I left before the Convention com
pleted its work. The last man I saw before my
departure was Hobart, who was nominated Vice-
President. He was a very attractive fellow. On
my way home I stopped at Canton to see McKin
ley. He welcomed me most cordially, and I spent
some hours in his home in very intimate com
munion with him. Among other things he showed
me the draft of the gold plank in the RepubU
can platform, which had been prepared by Mr.
Kohlsaat of Chicago a week before the convention
met. It was substantially the one adopted, and
had already been approved by Senator Lodge,
who was entmsted with the preparation of that
feature of the platform. Governor Foraker has
also sent me his account of the manner in which

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 223
that plank of the platform was agreed upon in
Committee. This fact is worth mentioning, as the
friends of Senator Piatt of New York circulated
a report after the Convention that he, upon his
arrival in St. Louis, had compelled the framers of
the platform to adopt his views about the gold
standard. In point of fact the matter was settled
long before his arrival, and Senator Piatt had
nothing to do with it. He had little or no influence
in the Convention.
Some time before his inauguration McKinley
invited me to visit him at his home in Canton.
He discussed quite freely the numerous people he
was considering for Cabinet positions. Among
other things he said he wanted a Southem man in
his Cabinet. He was kind enough to say that he
had been considering me as a possibility for
Attomey General, but that the trouble in my case
was that I lived in the North and that Southem
Republicans would, for that reason, not be satisfied
with me as a representative of the South, while
the New Yorkers would object for fear that I
would be charged to New York.
I intermpted him by jocularly telling him he
need not discuss that subject further ; that I could
not afford to be Attomey General on the salary;
that if I should take the place the Marshal of the
District of Columbia would have his hand in
my collar for debt by the end of my term. At that
time he was also considering Judge Nathan Goff of

2 24 RECOLLECTIONS OF
West Virginia, but I think Judge Goff was unwilling
to accept . We lunched together and Mrs . McKinley
was present. She was a sweet, pathetic little
invalid, and his tenderness to her was touching. I
remember saying at the lunch table something to
McKinley about his tenure of his new office being
more secure than that in Congress when Wallace
tumed him out. Mrs. McKinley interrupted by
inquiring something, with a surprised look, which
impUed that she did not altogether understand
what I meant when I spoke about Wallace. Her
husband adroitly tumed the subject, and I
verily believe that through consideration for her
health she had never been allowed to hear of his
defeat. The President-elect asked me what posi
tion I wanted. I told him I was like Beverley
Tucker when Stephen A. Douglas said to him:
" Bev. , what shall I do for you when I am President ?' '
Tucker was a fellow of infinite jest. " Stephen, old
boy," he replied quickly, "when you are President
just walk down Pennsylvania Avenue with me,
your arm about my neck, and call me Bev., and I
will do the rest." The joke pleased him im
mensely, and I heard of his repeating it afterward.
I did, however, tell the President-elect frankly, as
our intimacy and his inquiry justified, that I
wanted to be United States Attomey for the
Southem District of New York. At first he
inquired who were the other aspirants. Then he
said that unless some new and unforeseen con-

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 225
tingency arose he would nominate me. But I saw
that something else was on his mind. At last it
came out. "Is Senator Piatt for you?" said he.
' ' Of course not, ' ' said I . " Have I not been fighting
him to seat delegates for you. You know Piatt.
How can you expect me to secure his endorsement.
Are joti going to penalise your friends because they
cannot secure the endorsement of those they have
antagonised fighting for you?" He mused and
said: " Yes, I know. But — ^you know the deference
paid to Senatorial endorsements for office like this.
You know how the success of any Administration
depends upon the support of the Senate. You
know what a narrow margin I shall have in the
Senate. I cannot afford to have another Garfield
row. We only have a majority of two or three in
the Senate. Even if Piatt will not endorse you,
can you not make him agree not to fight you if
I name you? " I told him I would see what could
be done. Senator Piatt's attitude seemed to give
him great concern. Piatt had opposed his nomina
tion, but supported him for election, and since the
election he had heard nothing from him. He was
anxious to know what their relations were to be.
He commissioned me to call upon Piatt on my
retum and give him to understand that the
President-elect cherished no sort of resentment
toward him for his opposition to his nomination;
that his feelings were altogether kindly; that he
desired his advice and co-operation in regard to

2 26 RECOLLECTIONS OF
New York matters, and was prepared to show him
all the consideration to which the Senator from the
greatest State in the Union was entitled. At the
same time I was to find out Piatt's attitude toward
my own aspirations. Immediately on my retum
to New York I saw Piatt and he met the Presi
dent's overtures in the kindliest spirit. Concern
ing my aspirations he said he was fully committed
to another, but that if the President saw fit to nomi
nate me he would not oppose my confirmation. I
reported the result of m}'' visit to McKinley. It was
not long before I found out that I had brought the
two together so effectually that I had squeezed my
seU out, for McKinley needed Piatt as badly as Piatt
needed McKinley, and both were political traders.
The appointment was delayed a long time. In the
summer of 1897 I met the President at a Grand
Army Reunion at Buffalo. We saw a good deal
of each other. He made a fine speech at the
banquet, the best I ever heard from him. I was
an " also ran," and spoke after him. My train de
parted about eleven o'clock p. m. and I was com
pelled to leave. As I edged my way out behind
those seated on the dais I passed the President,
and, looking up to say good-bye, he pulled me down
to him and said something very kind about my
speech. I said: "Thank you. I wonder if it was
good, enough to pull off that Attorneyship I've
been expecting so long." His reply was, "Have
you secured Piatt's support?" The reply nettled

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 227
me and I said: "No. Did you secure it when I
made him my opponent fighting your battles for
you? Seems as if I ought to have sided with him
in order to have you for a friend." He took the
rebuke kindly, and said he wanted to see me in
Washington soon. I was not therefore surprised
when some time later I had a request to visit
him in Washington. Meanwhile Mr. Piatt had
told me that he had said to the President just what
he promised that he would. My meeting with the
President was in what is known as the " red room."
Secretary Alger was present. The interview opened
by McKinley's telling me how much attached to
me he was and how everybody knew it. Then
I knew what was coming. He went on to say
that I must know his decision did not depend
on his relative liking of Senator Piatt and myself ;
that he had been my friend for many years; and
that he had been prejudiced against Piatt, al
though since he had met him he esteemed him
highl5\ But that he felt bound not to antagonise
Piatt in the matter of this Attorneyship; that his
margin of support in the Senate was too narrow
to justify it. I interrupted him to inquire: " Did
Mr. Piatt not write to you that, while he had sup
ported another, if you chose to nominate me
he would not object?" "Oh, yes, maybe he
did," said he, "but I have seen Piatt and I know
how he feels, and I know I cannot jeopardise the
Party by fighting Piatt. I believe you are too

2 28 RECOLLECTIONS OF
good a friend to ask me to do that." "Mr.
President," said I, rising to go, "your decision
is not a surprise to me. I release you from aU
obligations. I have long since learned how friend
ship is sacrificed in the game of politics. Piatt
has something you want. You have something
Piatt wants. Go ahead with the arrangement.
Next time I want something and you and Piatt
are wrangling, I will support Piatt if I prize what
I want more than I do your friendship. A man is
a fool who is sentimental in politics." " Now you
are mad and losing your temper," said he in a
grieved way. " I never was less mad in my life,"
I replied; "I am only describing coolly what I
see." McKinley talked kindly and said something
about there being other ways in which he could
attest his friendship, and Secretary Alger said a
word or two about what he knew of McKinley's
attachment, and I left in no very pleasant temper.
Piatt's man received the appointment. Some time
afterward McKinley gave me a very handsome
special appointment, but he knew just what I
thought of him. It was this: He was naturally
an amiable man, but exceedingly ambitious; so
ambitious that he had no idea of imperilling any
personal interest for friendly inclinations. If it
was necessary to sacrifice a weak friend to propi
tiate a powerful enemy he would not hesitate for
one moment to do so. To his powerful friends,
on whom he was dependent, he was loyal to the

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 229
point of doing anything they required, even things
which his judgment or his conscience did not
approve, but that was only another form of self
ishness. His natural inclination to weaker friends
was kindly, and when he might assist them without
danger to himself he did so with a show of great
generosity. But when doing so called on him
to imperil any selfish interest he did not hesitate
to leave them in the lurch. Secretary Alger him
self experienced this. No man was ever more loyal
to McKinley, and he was an excellent Secretary
of War, but when McKinley found that there was a
public clamour against Alger he did not stand by
him as he should have done, he sacrificed him for
his own benefit without a qualm. In a word,
McKinley was nothing like as unselfish a man
as he has the reputation of having been; he was
much more of a trading politician than he has
the reputation of having been ; he was not as high
as the public estimate places him; and while he
was a kind-hearted man, he was a very timid,
calculating person; and while personally not cor
rupt was under many bad and venal influences.
What saved McKinley and will pass his name
down to history as a much greater man than he
really was, is that he had a singularly able
coterie of men about him, and presided over the
destinies of this Nation when our people were
more prosperous, more virile, more ready to
work out their own destiny and to achieve their

230 RECOLLECTIONS OF
own glory than they ever had been before, or
may ever be again.
McKinley was naturally of a cautious and a timid
nature. The swift rush of events after the blowing
up of the Maine alarmed him. Well it might.
The country was not prepared for war in any way.
With a more powerful adversary than Spain, the
precipitate way in which our people forced the
war might, and probably would, have produced a
great disaster. It was this doubtless that alarmed
McKinley and brought forth his desperate appeals
for delay. But the rashness of the populace
proved to be a true inspiration, and the victories
we won so rapidly were little short of miracles in
their bloodlessness and their completeness. The
rapidity of the formation of our armies and navies;
the thoroughness of their equipment; the celerity
and precision of their work — while due to the
work of a thousand master minds, product of our
whirling period of activity — will always redound to
the credit of McKinley and give him higher rank
than as a man he was entitled to. He was never
a vindictive man. His kindness and his amiability
disarmed to a great extent resentment for his
shortcomings. When the war broke out my boys went wUd.
The eldest was in the army, and the next two
wer e graduates of the Virginia Military Institute.
McKinley promptly commissioned the latter two
as Captain and First Lieutenant in Colonel

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 231
Pettit's 4th Regiment of U. S. Volunteer Infantry.
My oldest son he made an Assistant Adjutant
General with rank of Captain, after Santiago, and
afterward Major in the 47th Infantry Volunteers-
My second son he afterwards promoted to be
Major in the 4th. He even offered me a Brigadier
General's commission, but just at that time I was
engaged in an important railroad reorganization
and declined it, although it was tempting to the
vanity of an ex-Confederate.
The last time I saw McKinley was at Bluff Point.
I was chairman of a committee appointed to call
on him and invite him to attend a great celebration
of Dewey's victory in New York. The place is
beautiful, and we reached it on a lovely day.
After our task was performed I was about to
withdraw when McKinley, who knew how I felt
about the United States Attorneyship, approached
me in his most seductive way. He knew my weak
point. "Well," said he, calling me by my first
name, "How are our boys?" "Very well, I
thank you, Mr. President — one in the Philippines
and two in Cuba. All very well." "And how is
Mrs. Wise?" he added; "I expect that anxiety
about all those boys in the army has made her lose
the girlish appearance she had when we were
froUcking that night with Irving." I thanked him
and made some reply. Running his arm through
mine, as he often did in the old days, he drew me
aside and said: " Where is the little chap that made

232 RECOLLECTIONS OF
photographs of the Spaniards as he charged them
in the 9th Infantry at San Juan Hill ? " " Why, he
has rejoined his regiment and is serving in Northern
Luzon." " Now, I want him to be a Major in one
of the new regiments we are recruiting," was his
quick reply. Whatever lingering resentment I
may have felt against McKinley was surely dis
armed by this considerate remembrance of my
eldest son. Turning to him, and grinning, I said:
"Mr. President, is this business or conversation?
Piatt has no nominee for this place, has he?"
He in turn said: "There you go again. 'Still
harping on my daughter.' No, I want that boy
appointed. You write to Root and tell him I
want it done and I will write, too." Shaking his
hand cordially, I went off and wrote at once to
Secretary Root, one of the best friends and
truest men I ever knew, and within a week
received a telegram from him saying: "Con
gratulate Major Hugh D. Wise on his appoint
ment to the 47th Infantry." I little thought,
when I last looked into the kindly eyes of
McKinley that summer day at Bluff Point, that
we would never meet again. He was so full of
life and hope and health that a long career seemed
spread out before him.
A few weeks later I was at my little country
place in Virginia. It is on the point of a cape
far from the railroad and telegraph. We were at
breakfast when one of the servants came in with

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 233
the report that McKinley had been shot. I
regarded it at first as a mere idle country rumour,
but went to the 'phone and inquired of the tele
graph office in the village twelve miles away, and to
my horror the rumour was confirmed. What sur
prised me most was the credulity of people in
thinking there was any hope of his recovery.
Surgery has undoubtedly made great advances in
late years, and I am no skilled surgeon, but it will
be many a day, with the practical experience I
have had with wounds like that, before any surgeon,
however eminent, will make me believe that there
is one chance in ten thousand for any victim of a
gun-shot wound through the intestines.
Poor McKinley! He deserved a better fate.
The criticisms I have passed upon him above,
while they were deserved, do not destroy or
materially weaken a feeling akin to affection
which I always felt for him; and while his friend
ship failed me once on a pinch, he showed me
many times his kindness of heart, and friendly
interest, and desire to serve me — ^when he did not
have to endanger himself. That was his nature
and he could not change it. On the whole his
was a nature far above the average of mankind in
sweetness and kindliness, and not a whit below
the average in selfishness, perhaps, when men are
subjected to the test.

THEODORE ROOSEVELT

XIII.— THEODORE ROOSEVELT
Of all the men who have occupied the Presi
dential office in my day and time, the present
incumbent is to me at once the most interesting,
unique, and in many respects the most admirabl e
man among them. I shall discuss him as freely
as if he were dead, for, while he is far from perfec
tion, no one can fail to see from what I shall say
of him that I admire and respect him greatly, and
count his admirable traits as many times over
balancing the few defects to which I shall refer-
Perhaps I notice the latter more than most men
would do, because some of them I have myself
in such exaggerated degree that, instead of being
mere drawbacks, they are dominant and dis
qualifying. Criticism is no more agreeable to
Theodore Roosevelt than it is to the average of
mankind, I think, for I remember one occasion
when, at the time he was Police Commissioner
of New York City, I demurred most seriously
to the rigid way in which he and his associates
were enforcing certain provisions of the law of
excise. I talked plainly in open meeting, coup
ling my criticism with the assurance of more
than ordinary personal regard. Nobody loves
a stiff dispute better than Roosevelt, and he
?-37

238 RECOLLECTIONS OF
came back at me hammer and tongs. His open
ing sentence was an acknowledgment of our
kindly relations, but he added, sardonically:
"Of course we are friends; I know it. But I
cannot help quoting: 'I know that you love me
most truly, but why did you kick me down-stairs ? ' "
More than once he and I have metaphorically
punched each other, but, as an Englishman says
of another whom he admires, "he can stand
a lot of beating," and I admire him all the more
for it. He may not always be right. I do not
think he is always right. But he always believes
he is right, and he has the courage of his con
victions. When he is with you, he is with you
generously, and confidingly, and whole-souled.
When he is against you, he will not lie to you, or
deceive you, or postpone you, but will tell you so,
and tell you why, and argue against you, and sit
down on you, and, if need be, fight you to a finish.
In a word, he is a man, a bold outspoken man, every
inch of him a man, whether he is your friend or
foe. And with aU his positiveness and aggressive
ness he combines, in his dealings with a certain
class of politicians who could make great trouble
for him if he did not conciliate them, about as
smooth and cunning political acumen as any man
I ever saw.
In the course of a long acquaintance with and
observation of Roosevelt, I have watched his deal
ings with professional politicians from many

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 239
States, with mingled wonder and admiration.
He never has been a machine man, and he never
has been the voluntary choice of the class of
men who gain prominence through control of
political machines. In his heart he does not
admire them, and in their hearts they have always
looked upon him as an infliction. More than once
they have tried to cut him down by foul riding,
and would have been glad to accept temporary
defeat in order to put a quietus upon Roosevelt's
political ambitions. And nobody has known it
better than Roosevelt. Yet the "impetuous," the
"hot-headed," the "aggressive," the "uncalculat-
ing " Teddy has never been betrayed into a breach
with any of them which would give them the excuse
they sought. He has never lost sight of the absolute
necessity of having the machines supporting him
after election. He has, over and over again,
adroitly circumvented their machinations to defeat
his election, and afterward calculated to a nicety
just how much recognition was necessary to
propitiate them into a support of his Administra
tion. He has understood all the while that
what he did for them was political purchase-
money, indispensable to his own strength; and
they, political parasites as they are, while not
getting half they wanted, yet could not live with
out what they did get, and have accepted just
enough to keep them from kicking over the
political pail. He has forborne from the denun-

240 RECOLLECTIONS OF
ciation of them which he felt in his heart; and
muzzled and utilised the political wolves who
would rend him if they dared. I have often
laughed to myself, thinking what he would say
about them, and they about him, if both were
free to express their opinions of each other. His
course has no doubt cost him many severe efforts
at self-restraint, and at times he has no doubt
been forced to concessions and sacrifices of his
personal wishes which have tantalised him
greatly. But he has, in a discriminating way, no
less than great, sacrificed the lesser to the greater
object and won, leaving this base but indispens
able class of supporters baffled and disappointed,
because, knowing just what he thinks of them,
they find no excuse in his treatment of them
for betrayal or desertion.
To the veteran observer who knows how domi
nant the machine was with certain of his prede
cessors, and how insolent and over-shadowing it
had become, it is a refreshing sight to see him
the real controlling force of his Administration,
and the old magnates unhappy at the decline of
their importance, but silently pretending to ac
quiesce. If Roosevelt had shown the same political
acumen in deaUng with all the subjects that have
arisen that he has in his handling of the machine
leaders, I firmly believe he would have received,
in the last election, the unanimous vote of the

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 241
Electoral College ; for no man, during my Ufe- time,
has seemed, in his personality, so to appeal to
the imagination, or to have so strong a hold upon
the affections of the masses of the American
people. I did not know his father. He died before I
came to live in New York. But from all accounts
of him, he was one of the gentlest, most lovable,
public-spirited, and popular men that ever lived
in New York City. Theodore Roosevelt does not,
however, inherit the manners or the gentler traits
of his father. In his sturdiness and love of life's
battles and enterprises, he much more resembles
his uncle, Mr. Robert Roosevelt, who has been
my friend and associate these many years. The
most lovable Roosevelt I ever knew was the
President's brother, Elliott, now dead and gone.
He was one of my earliest acquaintances in New
York, and our attachment grew from the moment
of our first meeting until his early death. Perhaps
he was nothing like so aggressive or so forceful a
man as Theodore, but if personal popularity could
have bestowed public honours on any man there
was nothing beyond the reach of Elliott Roosevelt.
In those days we were all much younger than
we are now, and the things which amused us then
have ceased to charm. Long before the horse
show became a fad, the annual dog show of the
Westminster Kennel Club was the thing which
brought forth New York Society in all its glory.

242 RECOLLECTIONS OF
It was no dog traders' mart. The Westminster
Kennel Club was composed of the elite young
sportsmen of the city. I recaU such men as J. O.
Donner, C. DuBois Wagstaff, Pierre Lorillard,
John Heckscher, Henry Munn, Dick Pancoast,
Seward and Walter Webb, George De Forest
Grant, Coleman Drayton, Elliott Smitii, Anthony
and John C. Higgins, dear old Charlie Raymond,
Elliott Roosevelt, and many others. They gave
the show and acted as stewards and judges and all
that, and society came to it at Madison Square
Garden. I came up from Virginia to judge the
setters and the pointers, and they brought over
men like Dalziel and the best judges from Eng
land. We gave the "four hundred" a great run
for their money until eleven o'clock at night, and
then we generally gave ourselves a great run on
their money at a banquet at the famous old
Hotel Brunswick, near by the Madison Square
Garden, where our show was held. "Toney"
Higgins became Senator from Delaware, John C.
Higgins a foreign Minister, Seward Webb a
millionaire, and the others are now dead or gouty
or on the retired list, and the Brunswick has been
pulled down. But those were never to be forgotten
days in our coterie. Elliott Roosevelt was among
the younger and later set who followed my hey-
dey, and "Teddy," while he was a "dead-game
sport," seldom showed up, as he was a member
of the Legislature or playing cowboy in the West.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 243
StUl, he and Ray Hamilton and fellows of that
class were counted in "the gang" which embraced
men from the age of Carroll Livingston down to
the fledgelings.
It was a splendid lot of fellows. They were
not dissipated roisterers and drunkards and gam
blers. They were really a fine and refined set
of gentlemen sportsmen.
I have, in a previous chapter, mentioned the
first letter I ever received from Theodore Roose
velt. It was in 1885, when I was running for Gov
ernor against Fitzhugh Lee, and it expressed his
good wishes for my success. Of course that gave
me a kindly feeling for Roosevelt. My next dis
tinct remembrance of him is meeting him at a
luncheon given by Elliott at the Down Town
Club about 1888. I met Elliott Roosevelt with
General Sorrel of Georgia in New Street one day.
Mr. James Gracie, Roosevelt's uncle, joined us.
Grade's brother. General Archibald Gracie, was
killed in the Confederate service on the lines at
Petersburg. His brigade adjoined my father's
at the time of his death.
The Roosevelt boys always had a large circle of
Southem friends. Their uncle, their mother's
brother, Col. Bullock of Georgia, was one of the
finest officers in the Confederate Navy and a very
popular man.
Sorrel had served on Longstreet's staff, with such
conspicuous gallantry that he was promoted at one

244 RECOLLECTIONS OF
bound from Lieutenant Colonel on the Staff to
Brigadier General in the line. I knew him weU
and we were warm friends.
"Hallo, here he comes now," shouted Elliott as
I crossed the street, and I learned that they were
in search of me for a luncheon at the Down Town
Club. When we arrived there we found Theodore
Roosevelt and Russell Harrison, son of the newly
elected President . It was an entertaining luncheon.
Young Harrison, like Theodore Roosevelt, had been
roughing it in the West and their accounts of
Western life were most interesting. I remember
Harrison telling how he had been present at
the lynching of a horse thief and was afterward
simimoned on a grand jury to investigate the cir
cumstances attending it.
At that time Theodore Roosevelt was one of the
huskiest, most energetic, pushing men of thirty that
I ever met. Shortly afterward Elliott, Theodore,
General Sorrel and I dined together at Elliott Roose
velt's home, en garcon, and I nevermore enjoyed an
evening, for both Sorrel and Theodore Roosevelt
were full to overflowing of their reminiscences, the
one of the Civil war, the other of his life in the West.
It was a deep distress to me when Elliott died
soon afterward. I lost one of the sweetest
friends of my early manhood. The two brothers
were much attached to each other, and if Elliott
had lived I would always have had a powerful
friend at court, I feel sure.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 245
When Theodore Roosevelt became a Police
Commissioner in New York, one of his associates
was the present General Fred. Grant. Grant is one
of the best of fellows, but an easy-going man,
about as free from strenuousness as any man I
ever saw. At that time I saw a good deal of him,
and his descriptions of the meetings of the Board
were most entertaining. It was a so-called non
partisan Board, composed of Roosevelt, Grant,
and a Tammany Democrat. The police adminis
tration of New York at that time was about as
rotten as anything in the unsavory record of
Tammany rule. Roosevelt was placed there to
break it up, and I presume no man ever had a
more congenial task. He has written about
treading softly and having a club. He had his
club then and did not tread softly. From the day he
entered he began to fight, and he tore up the police
abuses by the roots. When he took charge he
walked into a veritable hornets' nest, for the whole
police force was packed with creatures of Tam
many in thorough sympathy with the minority of
the Board, and they did everything in their power
to thwart him. Every morning the newspapers
gave us fresh accounts of rows in the sessions of
the Police Board. For once at any rate Roose
velt had all the fighting he wanted, and he kept
it up until he reorganised the entire force and gave
New York a better police service than she ever had
before. To this day the police department shows

246 RECOLLECTIONS OF
the good effects of the dynamiting he gave it.
Grant, although not so aggressive as Roosevelt,
backed him up loyally, now and then exclaiming:
" I wonder he does not wear himself out! "
Roosevelt went to Washington to become a
Civil Service Commissioner. I never understood
his enthusiasm for that idea. By nature the
man must see that the idea of securing the best
service by giving preference to book-learning pro
ficiency and by routine promotion is Utopian.
In practice, where he may exercise his untram
melled judgment, he acts often contrary to his
theory. Some of the biggest fools I ever knew
could pass the best examinations. It is all
right to pass laws forbidding removals for political
causes, and perhaps there is no other way of
regulating appointments, but I will cite a single
instance which has fallen under my observation.
I firmly believe that the system of competitive
examinations for appointments to West Point has
resulted in producing a class of cadets far inferior
to those secured by taking the best and most
promising boy a Congressman could find and
sending him there regardless of his pre-eminence
as a book-worm. Book-worm boys, as a class,
are not the brightest, or the strongest, or the best ¦
material for soldiers. However, it was not my
purpose to discuss the merits or demerits of civil-
service examinations. I only referred to it because
I consider it singular that a man with the pecuUar

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 247
temperament and characteristics of Theodore
Roosevelt, and who, in practice, so negatives his
theory, should have become a champion of civil-
service rules as they are framed and applied.
Roosevelt was soon afterward made Assistant
Secretary of the Navy, and I know very little
of his work there. The then Secretary of the
Navy, ex-Governor Long of Massachusetts, was
a colleague of mine in Congress. He is an
able, polished, courteous man. But he is a
gentleman tenacious of his own authority and
position, and by no means disposed to be
hustled by anybody. It is claimed by the
enthusiastic friends of Roosevelt that, although
in a subordinate position, he was the most potent
force in the Navy Department, and that the con
dition of our Navy at the outbreak of the Spanish
War was chiefly due to his efforts. I am sorry the
claim has been made. I do not believe Roosevelt
encouraged it, for I do not believe it was just.
Governor Long was no figurehead in his position.
He was a vigorous, capable man, and would have
resented promptly the usurpation of his authority
by any man. And Roosevelt himself would be the
last man in the world to trench upon the preroga
tives of a worthy superior. I do not doubt that
he did the work assigned to him with the vigour
and efficiency which has always characterised his
public service, and that is sufficient praise.
Everybody knows the story of his prompt

248 RECOLLECTIONS OF
action in raising the Rough Rider Regiment
when the Spanish War broke out. He showed
his good sense, too, in not trusting too much to
his slight military knowledge, by having Leonard
Wood made Colonel, while he accepted the place
of Lieutenant-Colonel.
Roosevelt is the sort of man who takes to
miUtary life as a duck does to water. Superior
training does not keep inferior men above a man
like him, in actual war. Such men use the the
oretical knowledge of superiors for their own
instruction until they gain experience, and then
climb right over their heads upon their own
foundations. Once, talking with him since he
became President, I remarked that when the Civil
War broke out I was only fourteen years old,
and had laid awake many a night fearing it might
end before I had a chance as a soldier. He,
laughed and said: "I know the feeling. Many
a time I've feared that before any fighting should
arise I would be too old to volunteer." In a war
like ours with Spain it is no easy matter for newly
levied volunteers to gain recognition, much less
preferment, among veteran regulars. Yet Roose
velt understood how to manage that. His con
ception of the quick levy of a cavalry regiment
from plainsmen and reckless youngsters was
original in design, and he put it into effect in a
dramatic way. His command shouted and shot
itseU into notoriety by the time it was assembled

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 249
at San Antonio, and was so full of aggressiveness
that it was not safe to leave it unemployed.
It was not to be a cavalry war, but Roosevelt
pushed and clamoured for service at the front
untU the War Department no doubt felt it was
easier to let him go than to try to hold him back.
When it came to the detail for the Santiago
campaign, any considerable cavalry contingent
was out of the question. Only a few dismounted
battalions were to accompany Shaffer. The regu
lar cavalry at Tampa was by far the best fitted
for the expedition. But Roosevelt had no idea of
being left. It looked as though the Rough Riders,
if denied participation in the expedition, would
wade into the sea and try to swim to Cuba. Such
was the forward spirit of Roosevelt and his men.
So, one battalion, dismounted, of this untried com
mand, was permitted to accompany the expedition,
to appease their ardour, and the men even fought
among themselves on the question who should go.
When they reached Cuba they were the same
pushing, enterprising, dare-devil set, who had no
idea that anything should happen without their
being in the thick of it. So, pressing forward
before the whole column was in motion, they
bumped into the retiring Spaniards at La Guasi-
mas, and received a blizzard that killed a dozen or
more and warned them that they were just a
trifle too independent and aggressive. Did this
deter Roosevelt? Not a bit of it. He liked it!

2 50 RECOLLECTIONS OF
He and his men wanted another chance at them.
His dash and recklessness caught the popular
eye in that time of personal daring. He and his
battalion were in the forefront with Wheeler at
Santiago, and it was hard to keep them back.
Not in a very soldierly way, but in a devil-may-care,
dashing, fearless way, he led his men up Kettle Hill,
and earned for them and for himself all the glory
and all the eclat that was to be had out of that
affair. His conduct gave him unusual prominence
and endeared him greatly to New Yoj^ers, for it
soothed their wounded vanity concerning another
State command which had been unfortunate.
Theodore Roosevelt, chiefly by his own push and
insistence upon recognition, thus became the
most prominent citizen soldier of the Empire State.
Then came the days of delay and confusion,
when supplies and ammunition were not sent
forward from Siboney to the trenches. Some of
ficers lay in the trenches grumbling and waiting.
Not so with Roosevelt. Dirty and dressed like a
ditcher, with his blue-dotted neckerchief tied about
his coUarless throat, he left his men on the lines and
walked or rode or trudged back to the landing at
Siboney to demand his ammunition and his sup
plies. And there he wrangled and swore at ordnance
officers, grabbed ammunition, bacon and hard
tack, loaded it, urged teamsters, heaved at
stalled wheels, and fioundered back to camp with
all the food and all the ammunition requisite.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 251
whUe others less enterprising awaited their turns.
And New York was proud as the news of her stren
uous son came home from the seat of war. My
eldest boy was then a Lieutenant in the 9th Regular
Infantry. He had been detaUed to make observa
tions at Shaffer's Headquarters with his kites and
aerial cameras, and was on the wharf at Siboney
in search of his outfit when Colonel Roosevelt
arrived upon the mission above described. He
and Teddy are much the same sort of hustlers
There, chewing raw bacon in unison and mutually
denouncing the inefficiency of others, they estab
lished a sworn friendship and admiration for each
other which neither ever fails to express when the
other is mentioned in his presence.
"How is the little bantam game-cock?" says
Roosevelt, recalling how the boy went up San Juan
Hill with the 9th • Infantry, photographing the
Spaniards as he charged them. "How is Teddy,
the Rough Rider? He's not afraid of anything,
and as full of energy as a box of monkeys," says
the boy, recounting Roosevelt's everlasting energy
in battle and in bivouac. He was but one of
ten thousand who marked the marvellous vitality
of this enterprising soul.
Then came the days of victory and waiting
and sickness, the tropic heat of summer and the
dangers of delay. Roosevelt saw the perils of the
place. "Our work is done! Take us away!"
he shouted. The slow-moving methods of the

252 RECOLLECTIONS OF
War Department did not suit them, but the veteran
regular officers hesitated to protest. Not so
with Roosevelt. It might not be according to
routine and army regulations, but it was the
urgent demand of humanity and common sense.
"Our work is done! Take us away before
disease fixes its fangs upon us and does what
the Spaniards failed to accomplish," insisted
Roosevelt, and he put the demand into the
form of a "round robin," and urged and pressed
it until it was signed by his hesitating brother
officers. The appeal had its effect. The army
was immediately transported from the pestilential
air of Cuba to the healthful camps at Montauk
Point, and thousands of men owe their lives to
the boldness and vigour with which Roosevelt
demanded the change. He landed there with his
little battalion, for which, in his three months'
service, he had won a place as distinct as that of
the " Guides " of Napoleon or the " Black Horse
Cavalry" of Lee. And the millions of New
Yorkers who greeted his landing with pride and
gratitude were waiting to make him Governor of
the Empire State.
Not so, however, with the few scheming political
managers who call themselves "the organisation."
The sudden and irresistible popularity of Roose
velt coming as it did, just when the nomination was
to be made, utterly overthrew their plans for
nominating and electing some nonentity who

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 253
should be subservient to their "organisation."
Roosevelt had never been a man of that kind.
For a time they tentatively sought to avert the
altemative and then, recognising the inevitable,
they said under their breath and with closed teeth:
"D — n him, we cannot prevent it. Let's make
a virtue of necessity and support him." Then the
organisation threw up its hat and cried: "Hurrah
for Roosevelt!" and Roosevelt received the Re
publican nomination without apparent opposition.
But Theodore knew, as well then as ever before or
afterward, just how far to trust the sincerity of
their professions. In the course of the campaign
he and his friends had reason to suspect the good
faith of the support he was receiving. It had
happened before in the history of New York politics
that honourable candidates of a party had been
allowed to be defeated because the party hacks in
charge of campaigns feared their dominancy if
they should be elected, and found it more to their
own advantage to have them slaughtered in the
house of their friends. Roosevelt is not the man
to fail to detect such a conspiracy, or to fail to
fight it when detected. In the last days of the
campaign he seized his imperilled standard in his
own hands and made his own personal campaign.
Appearing in all parts of the State in his rough-
rider uniform, he made a series of electrifying
speeches, and snatched victory from defeat. It
was a glorious victory to his real friends, and

2 54 RECOLLECTIONS OF
the narrow margin showed that he had not taken
his campaign into his own hands one moment too
soon. No one will ever know the chagrin which
certain so-called Republican leaders in New York
felt at the election of Roosevelt; no one more
thoroughly suspected their loyalty than did he,
yet no one ever played the game of politics more
adroitly; for he knew the dangers of a breach
with them, and, without confessing his distrust, held
them to their support of his Administration by
recognising their legitimate claims to consideration.
So it went on until the Presidential campaign of
1900. There were inconsiderate friends of Gover
nor Roosevelt who thought he went too far in
propitiating his enemies within his party. The
event shows that he made no mistake. Certainly
he did not succeed in reconciling them to his
methods or gaining popularity with them. He was
as irritating a thorn in their side as any Demo
crat could possibly have been. He was honest,
and so long as he remained in the Governor's office
he was a lion in the path, preventing and delay
ing many an old-time method in which they had
delighted. Yet the people were at his back,
and the problem of how to be rid of him was an
ever recurring perplexity. At last a solution ap
peared. If they could not "turn him down,"
they could at least "tum him up." The Vice-
Presidency, while it was a sinecure, was counted
a high honour, and his elevation to it would rid

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 255
his party associates of him at Albany. According
ly, the " RepubUcan Gang " from New York went
to the National Convention at PhUadelphia shout
ing for Roosevelt's nomination to the second place,
with the distinct and undisguised purpose of being
rid of him as Governor of New York. I was
present and heard them, and can recall the things
said and the men who said them. They were
contemptuous, resentful, abusive things, and they
were said by men who have no views of their
own, but get their inspiration from the bosses they
serve and on whom they depend. Roosevelt
understood their purposes and their calculations
and their motives thoroughly. I have no doubt
that it was as much from his stubborn wish to
balk them in their uncomplimentary support as
from some considerations more important that he
at first refused and so long hesitated about ac
cepting. One thing is certain in my mind — that
if the great majority of New York delegates who
supported Roosevelt in the National Convention
of 1900 for the Vice- Presidential nomination on
the Republican ticket had had the faintest idea
he would within a year succeed to the Presidency
they would not have voted for him, even under
the strongest inducement. When they retumed
their rejoicings were not over his nomination to
the Vice-Presidency but over being rid of him
as Governor.
McKinley was young and well -and strong

2 56 RECOLLECTIONS OF
There was no thought of such a thing as his as
sassination, and the average New York Republican
organisation man made no concealment of the
clever trick they had resorted to, to rid themselves
of an obnoxious Governor by placing him in a
sinecure. The delegates returned to New York
singing, " I guess that will hold him down awhile."
No man understood better than did Governor
Roosevelt the motive, the purpose, the temper of
his nomination, or the men who planned it and
brought it about.
In the Vice- Presidential office he was a veritable
Pegasus hitched to a plow.
When the horrid crime which removed Mc
Kinley brought Roosevelt into the Presidential
office, he came in under conditions hardly less
trying than those imposed upon Tyler as suc
cessor of Harrison, and much more difficult than
those attending Fillmore's or Arthur's succession.
If Harrison's death was a great blow to Henry
Clay, who had calculated so much upon Harrison's
subjection to his dominancy, what must have been
the blow of McKinley's death to Mark Hanna and
his thoroughly entrenched coterie?
When Harrison died Clay was not yet firm in his
seat, and what he lost was what he had hoped
for rather than what he had realized. When
McKinley died, Mark Hanna's peculiar but force
ful plans had been in complete operation for
four years; he had secured their endorsement for

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 257
another term ; had tasted one lease of great power
and influence to the full ; and was just preparing for
another four years of even more thorough control.
No matter how great or how dominant one may
insist that McKinley was, no one questions that
the days of McKinley were full of sunshine for
Mark Hanna and his compact, thoroughly organised
political machine. For nobody questions that
Mark Hanna had a great machine, whether it was
a good or a bad machine; or that he was the
chauffeur, whether McKinley was owner or merely
an honoured guest. And no machine ever had a
harder or more sudden jolt on the highway of
politics than did Mark Hanna's when McKinley
died and Roosevelt mounted in his place.
The world can never know what Mark Hanna
and his political syndicate felt when McKinley
died, or how in their inmost hearts they welcomed
the advent of his successor, or how he in his inmost
heart regarded them.
He was and is a person altogether different in
temperament, and in party associations, from
McKinley. Andrew Johnson himself differed no
more radically from Lincoln than did Roosevelt
from McKinley. As for Mark Hanna and the
style of political management known as Hanna-
ism, which was synonymous with McKinley-
ism, certainly Roosevelt had never theretofore
operated upon such lines. The people loved
McKinley; they seemed to have faith in Hanna

2 58 RECOLLECTIONS OF
and Hannaism. They were not prepared to give
them up for any unknown and untried policy of
Mr. Roosevelt.
It is to the credit of Roosevelt and Hanna alike
that both behaved admirably in a trying time;
and both agreed that, continuing the personnel
as well as the policy of McKinley's Administration,
they would subordinate all antagonisms, disap
pointments and incongruities between them and
strive together for the public good. It certainly
was not a natural alliance. No two men that ever
came together in politics had more irreconcilable
view-points, ideals or standards, than did Theo
dore Roosevelt and Mark Hanna. How they
succeeded in pulling together as well as they did
for the common welfare during the three years
after McKinley's death that Hanna lived is a
wonder, and to the great honour of both of them;
for while, in that time, McKinley's policies were
adhered to, Hanna methods and Hanna dominancy
and men of the type which Hanna chose in the
day of his control under McKinley, rapidly gave
place to Roosevelt methods, Roosevelt dominancy,
and men of a very different type from those who
flourished under Hanna.
Whether the friendship between Roosevelt and
Hanna could or would have survived the strain
of these inevitable changes if Hanna had lived
need not be discussed. Outwardly at least it did
continue until Hanna died, and that is surprising

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 259
enough to the general pubUc, who had been taught
to look upon Roosevelt as rash, and stubbom,
and unyielding. I have watched him closely, and
know that when any question vital to his support
by his party followers arises, he is not rash, or
stubborn, or unyielding. On the contrary, no
man weighs more quickly or calculatingly which of
two inconsistent plans it is best to yield in order to
retain party support. And no man is more politic
in not confessing that he abandoned one purpose
in order to attain another.
President Roosevelt, in the early days of his
first administration, had a cherished purpose,
about which he consulted with certain of his
supporters, and he was discussing plans for carry
ing it out. His purpose and his plans were
formed in ignorance of the fact that they trenched
upon matters touching which Mark Hanna was
peculiarly sensitive. It was a time when a graver
issue was before the Senate, upon which the
Administration had a very narrow margin and
concerning which it was almost dependent upon
Hanna's support, which until then it had received.
The President's action in the matter first referred
to stopped suddenly. His course became just
the reverse of what his conversation had indicated
it was to be. He dropped the subject, and wisely
gave no reason for his change of policy. His
Senate measures went through. It was a long
time before those he consulted about the first

26o RECOLLECTIONS OF
matter, and who had been puzzled by his apparent
vacillation, realised that Mark Hanna had warned
him that if he did what he proposed he would
force a breach and lose his support, and that then
the President had promptly abandoned a cherished
but not vital purpose to ensure the success of a
more important measure. No man who has not
occupied a public station or been close enough
to those who do to watch them, can form any idea
how little of free agency is left to the ablest and
most dominant man in political office, or how they
are forced to " cut their garment according to their
cloth," else risk alienating indispensable support
and destroying themselves by antagonising those
without whom they have no hope of success.
Andrew Johnson, naturally stubbom, and made
the more so by dissipation, undertook to be
reckless and defiant of his party leaders, but
Theodore Roosevelt, temperate, ambitious, enter
prising, full of vitality, bold and stubborn in
many things, understands as well as any man who
ever was President just how far he may go, and
just where the danger line is at which he must
stop with the men who are to make or unmake his
political fortunes. He has been singularly blessed,
too, in the men by whom he has surrounded
himself. In my opinion there has never been in
the Cabinet of any President an abler, a wiser, or
a more loyal counsellor, or one so well equipped
in so many departments as Elihu Root. His

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 261
Secretary of State, John Hay, grew and expanded
every day from the time he entered public
service until he died, and his Secretary of War,
Judge Taft, is a man of extraordinary capacity.
I predict, with great confidence, that in his
Cabinet will be found the Presidential successor of
President Roosevelt. Elihu Root I have known
for nearly twenty years, and whatever I might
say of his legal abilities, of his intellectual power,
of his strong, attractive, cautious, honest, high-
minded, loyal public and private personality
would be put down to the partiality of friendship.
My acquaintance with Judge Taft began some
fifteen years ago, in a case I had before him in
Cincinnati, when he was a Judge in a State Court.
I marked him then as an extraordinary man, and
have witnessed his successive promotions to
Solicitor General, United States Circuit Judge,
Governor of the Philippines and Secretary of War
with great pleasure, as vindicating my forecast
of his future. Mr. Hay's growth somewhat sur
prised me, for I regarded him as in early life a
narrow and provincial man — a prejudice derived
from some unjust criticisms of my father in his
" Life of Lincoln " ; but I am frank to admit that I
accept the public estimate of Mr. Hay as a man of
very remarkable talents and culture. No piece of
oratory delivered in my day has surpassed, if it even
equalled, the speech of John Hay upon McKinley,
delivered before the two Houses of Congress.

2 62 RECOLLECTIONS OF
I oug t to state emphatically that in what I
have written or shall add concerning President
Roosevelt, I have violated no confidence of his,
for he has never taken me into his confidence.
Nor is anything I have said derived from or
inspired by anything he has ever said to me about
the things discussed. They are deductions and
conclusions of my own mind conceming what a
man of his acumen and intelligence must have
seen and must have felt about matters and conduct
the nature and inspiration of which was plain to
everybody. Our relations have always been ex
ceedingly friendly, but never intimate to the
point that I would feel that in recounting them
I was improperly drawing aside the curtain of
privacy, and the general interest in the President
is such that I feel justified in presenting him as he
is. He is one of the most natural and unaffected
men I ever knew, sometimes so even to the point
of boyishness. I remember one day when I was
with him at luncheon in the White House. The
remarkable influence of the Dutch upon American
institutions has been a fad with me for many
years. For example, the Mecklenburg resolutions
are largely plagiarised, or at any rate pursue the
language of the first address of the States-General
in Holland. And our flag is nearly like the flag of
the Dutch Republic. And we adopted our school
system from them, and our system of Prosecuting
Attorneys, and I don't know what else. Years

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 263
ago I delivered an address on the subject. When
I began to talk about it Roosevelt intimated that
I was only flattering him. I repUed by telUng
him: "I knew and said these things when you
were a boy." After luncheon he invited me to go
with him to his office and examine some new
German rifles. On arriving there we found some
very obsequious Germans who, after profound
bows, showed their weapons. The President was
much pleased with the mechanism of the guns and,
seizing one, worked it, threw it up to his shoulder,
pointed it out of the window, clicked it, tested it,
and finally, with the enthusiasm of a boy, passed
it over to me for examination, exclaiming: "By
George! Look at it! Ain't that 6M//3;f " I won
dered whether the Germans had ever heard the
Kaiser talking about bully things.
The thing that has pleased me most in my
visits to Mr. Roosevelt is his relations with his
children. When they are together they are all
boys and girls and all Presidents. One day at
luncheon young Teddy was deeply interested in a
game. I proposed to teach them one that the
player can win only once in a thousand times.
So, after luncheon, on a big marble table in the
hallway, the children and I had our fun, and I feel
sure the President regretted as much as any of us
that business prevented him from taking part in
the sport.
Another time when I caUed he had a great red

264 RECOLLECTIONS OF
abrasion upon his forehead which looked as if
some one had sandpapered him. " What's that? "
said I. "Why, my horse," said he, with a strong
qualifying adjective, " stuck his foot in a hole in a
bridge and fell, nearly breaking my neck," and he
laughed at it as if it was a good joke. "Too
strenuous!" said I. "Take this and it will cool
your blood and keep you from riding so hard." I
passed him a little bundle of sassafras bark which
I had bought in the Washington market from an
old coloured woman, intending to make sassafras
tea of it, to remind me of the time when I was a
boy in the country. " What is it ? It smells good,"
said he. I told him. " I'll take it and make some
tea. Have no doubt it is good." He seldom forgets
anything, and the next time I saw him reminded
me of it and said every child in the house had had
a try at it.
When I want anything from President Roosevelt
I can tell in a minute whether I will get it or not,
I do not want much, but when I do I want it
right away or not at all. So when we meet I am
apt to say: "Mr. President, I want so and so."
If he will not do it he says so, and that ends it.
If he hesitates, I can generally tell by the questions
he asks whether he will or will not do it. If he
says "All right," then I know it will be done and
done quickly. On a certain occasion I asked him
to help me have a friend retained in office. He
agreed to do so, and at once called a stenographer

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 265
and began to dictate. He was going so fast it
nearly took my breath away. The things he
began to dictate were all wrong. I began to cor
rect. We both exploded with laughter. " Here,"
said he, giving it up, "you dictate it. I'll sign it.
Sign anything that does not involve me in paying
any money," — and the business was done.
Another time I went there and he asked me to
tell him about a certain man he was considering
for office. I spoke well of him. I thought he
was probably going to act in a month or so.
Imagine my surprise the following evening, on
taking up the evening paper, at seeing that the
man's name had been sent to the Senate even
before my letter advising him to get endorsements
had reached him.
Napoleon in his palmiest days never insisted
upon " Activite — Celerite — Activite " more strenu
ously than does Roosevelt.
I never have exactly understood just why the
President invited Booker Washington to lunch with
him, nor do I care. I think the Southern people
have made themselves ridiculous about it and
given it an importance that is absurd. It is
almost impossible to discuss a question like that
without being misapprehended. I do not care
what one's views on the subject may be, there
are circumstances under which a man, however
prejudiced, may find himself in a position in
which to raise a point like that would give it

266 RECOLLECTIONS OF
undue importance and render himself absurdly
conspicuous. I do happen to know that President
Roosevelt is not an advocate of social equality.
Know it from things which he has said so often in
public that the same things said in private would
not be confidential. Suppose that in his public
position as President of the United States he feels
that it is not below his dignity, but quite in the
line of his duty, upon meeting a distinguished,
good and representative man of the black race, not
to discriminate against him on account of his
colour but to pay him the same compliment of
entertainment that he pays to distinguished white
men every day. Now if the man had been an Indian
nobody would have criticised it. The Presidents
have been entertaining Indians from the time of
Andrew Jackson. It does not mean anything but
what it is. A public courtesy, a passing insignifi
cant courtesy. To deny it would certainly be a
pointed discrimination against him. All one can
say is that he would have made the discrimination.
Grant it. Suppose he would have done so.
StiU, is it a thing of such vital importance that we
must have an irreconcilable feud, prejudice and
hatred against a gentleman admirable in other
respects for having differed with us on so trivial
a matter? By making the point do we not give
the incident an importance, a significance, an
effect far beyond that to which it is entitled ?
I noticed that in Richmond not long ago, and

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 267
long since the Booker Washington episode, Mr.
R. C. Ogden was royally entertained by the
representative people of the city — by the very
people who were most bitter in their denunciation
of the President for entertaining Booker Washing
ton. It is proper that the Richmond people should
have entertained Mr. Ogden. He is a most
worthy private citizen. He is rich and philan
thropic, and deeply interested in educational ques
tions, especially questions pertaining to the
education of the negro. But Mr. Ogden certainly
has views upon the subject of social equality much
more radical than any entertained by President
Roosevelt. Mr. Ogden receives and entertains
Booker Washington as an honoured guest in his
private house. He goes to Mr. Ogden' s and re
mains days at a time. He sleeps in Mr. Ogden's
beds, and sits at the table with the family, and
conducts family prayers, and does all the things
which any white guest might do; and one might
taUc to Mr. Ogden for the remainder of his life
without exciting in his mind the slightest prejudice
against Booker Washington or making him feel
that there is any sense in our race prejudices. I
say our race prejudices because I confess frankly
that I am a Southem man and have race preju
dices, and that it is altogether likely that if I had
been in President Roosevelt's place I would no
more have invited Booker Washington to lunch
with me than would have others. I confess

268 RECOLLECTIONS OF
it. It may be a weakness and a prejudice, but it
is one I cannot control any more than I can master
other prejudices that control me. And anyone
is welcome to all the comfort he can get out of that
confession. But what I do not understand and
what I want my Southem brother, with a common
prejudice, to explain to me is this: How is it
and why is it that they ignore, or overlook, or con
done Mr. Ogden's private practice of social
equality and entertain him, but grow frantic
about the formal recognition of Booker Washington
by President Roosevelt, and even refuse to support
his party for that reason, often at the same time
agreeing with its principles ? Now is it not making
a mountain out of a mole-hill? |Let me whisper
something in their ears that will show what an
unnecessary excitement this is. You do not
believe that Governor Montague of Virginia
favours social equality, do you ? Surely you ought
not to think so, for you remember that he pro
claimed the new Constitution which disfranchised
all the negroes without submitting it to the people
as was promised. Now you remember that
Governor Montague has been placed by Mr. Ogden
on his Board of Trustees of Tuskegee College;
that he attends the meetings of that Board;
that he is often thrown into association with the
president of the college, Booker Washington.
Some day slip up quietly to him and ask him to
look you in the eye and tell you truthfully whether

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 269
in his numerous visits to Tuskegee and elsewhere,
on business of the coUege with his old friend
Ogden, he has sat at the table with Booker Wash
ington or other black men. I do not say it is so,
but if it is not so, there has been a great amount
of managing to avoid it. If it be so, how absurd
you will feel when you find that leading repre
sentative men in the party which has raised
all this hue and cry against the President have
been doing the very thing for which you
have been abusing him and by which you have
been wrought up to such an excitement. And
whether these things have been done or not,
how absurd it is to consider them as having any
bearing whatever upon the great question of
social equality. Nobody can fix a hard-and-fast
rule for another whereby to judge him by a single
act. Circumstances alter cases. Finally, is it
not a reflection upon the intelligence of the
Southem people that they permit themselves to
be lashed into feverish excitement by so small an
affair. Viewed simply from the standpoint of his
personal popularity for the time being, President
Roosevelt's act was unwise, and as it was also
unnecessary it may have been impoUtic from a
political standpoint, for just at that time he
undoubtedly had caught the eye of the South, and
the Southem people were preparing to give him
a support which, although it was qualified, was
far more enthusiastic than that they had accorded

2 70 RECOLLECTIONS OF
to any of his Republican predecessors, even to
McKinley, who had made a decided impression on
the Solid South. Truth was, they were ashamed
of their support of Bryan and sick of Democratic
broken promises. Roosevelt, half a Southerner
himself, has many characteristics that captivate
them. They like his books about hunting and
his hustling, open-air ways. They are proud of his
Rough Riders. They saw him riding into danger
with the dash and recklessness of a Southem
cavalryman. They read his glorious tribute to
Robert E. Lee. They believe he is honest and
broad-minded himself, and intends to be President
of the whole Nation, frown on sectionalism, and
demand honesty and capacity from his appointees.
Within my own knowledge clubs were forming, in
sections theretofore solid in opposition, composed
of men who never theretofore voted the Republican
ticket, to be called Roosevelt Clubs and organized
upon the basis of non-partisan support of Roose
velt because of his high principles and broad
policies. Of course that was the entering wedge
for breaking up the blighting insanity of their
past subservient allegiance to anything bearing
the name of Democracy. And the Southern
Bourbon leaders were thoroughly alarmed about
the movement. I was delighted at the prospect,
and was quietly working like a beaver to bring
about the result outlined above. But great
results are of times thwarted by very little things.

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 271
I remember seeing a fine negro ball in a bam
broken up on a certain occasion by the appearance
of a very small polecat. He was roused from his
winter resting place by the furious dancing on the
floor. Nobody expected him, but he came, and
after he came the company departed, and not
even the tempting odours of roast pig and country
sausage could induce the dusky company to
retum to the feast. By the time the intruder
was disposed of, the original purposes of the
gathering were lost sight of amid the lingering
perfumes of the unexpected guest. I need hardly
point the moral of this story.
If the President had ever taken me into his
confidence I would not now venture to say that
I feel sure he has many times realised that the
episode was unfortunate; but he has had the good
sense not to make any admission about it.
There is one thing about Roosevelt. He can
fall down and get up again, and then go faster
than the average man who never stumbles.
His apprehension is as keen and quick as that
of any man I ever saw. His apparent impatience
with some people is not impatience. It arises
from the fact that he often understands a matter
before the person stating it thinks he has made it
comprehensible .
The President is charged with having one fault
that many men regard as a virtue, to wit, a
partiality for his friends and an overestimate of

272 RECOLLECTIONS OF
their abilities. The most notable instance gener
ally cited is his promotion of Leonard Wood.
Even that has two sides to it. It may be conceded
that General Wood is not a man of such pre
eminent worth and capacity that, without the
partiality of the appointing power, he would
have been promoted as he was. It may likewise
be conceded that his promotion over the heads of
many other deserving men was a hardship upon
them and was inconsiderate of their fair expecta
tions. But the first promotion of Wood was by
McKinley, whose family physician he was. When
the question came to Roosevelt it was not one of
first impression. Let any man who is disposed to
blame Roosevelt for what he did consider his
relation to Wood. To have refused to do what
he did would have been worse than doing nothing.
It would have been to refuse a true and tried friend
a recognition of rights conferred by a predecessor;
to actually tum him down and turn him back. Let
any man who knows the bond and the power of old
army friendships consider this before he blames
Roosevelt. If he is partial to old friends it is a
venial weakness. Many a politician has been
wrecked by iiigratitude, but few have been punished
for loyalty to friends. Not many men in his posi
tion have such a number of warm personal friends
that their advancement imperils the public service,
and the generous American people have always
condoned this tendency in their public men,

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 273
President Roosevelt has. in my opinion, one
grave defect. A defect which may not weaken
his personal strength, because he has declared that
he will not be a candidate for reelection, but which
tends to the injury of the party which he ought
to protect. He admits to his councils, and is
advised by and apparently follows sometimes, the
advice of men who are not Republicans or even
representatives of any political ideas. It is a
mistake on his part to think that because they are
congenial socially, or intelligent, or have other
tastes in common with him, he ought to invite their
views, or at any rate be guided by their views, on
political questions. If they are anything poUti
cally they are mere doctrinaires, without political
infiuence or following or title to poUtical consid
eration, and if he listens to their views he will
soon find himself advocating political something-
nothings to the injury of his party supporters.
He will lose in his own party, and gain nothing in
the opposition, by admitting such men into his
political confidence.
God has made him an extraordinary man, with
views far more catholic, perhaps, than those of his
party or his supporters. But he is not likely to
meet many other men whose views are as enlarged
as his own, or whose opinions are apt to be as
valuable. He cannot hope to build up a new
party with them, and as he cannot he must be
content with having his own party as large and

2 74 RECOLLECTIONS OF
broad as he can make it with his own material.
When he takes counsel from outsiders he is running
the risk of mingling incompatible elements to the
detriment of both. A man of his worldly wisdom
will not take long to discover this; for, with all
his wonderful abilities and great triumphs and
daily improvement, he is still young, with much
to learn.
That he is possessed of a strong, powerful intel
lect; a virility which as yet feels no decline; an
ambition that aspires to all that is honourably
possible, and an honesty that endears him to his
countrymen is admitted by everyone.
Sometimes the action of President Roosevelt
upon newly arisen issues has been so sudden, so
decisive, so radical, that members of his own party
have been startled and even irritated at his
apparent impulsiveness. A notable instance of
this was his almost immediate recognition of the
Panama Revolutionary Govemment. In that
case it did, at first blush, seem as if he was too
impetuous. Yet, when the public came to under
stand the whole situation, I think it unanimously
agreed that the President's action was fully
justified, and that his celerity obviated a number
of embarrassing and perhaps expensive complica
tions which would have arisen under a less de
cisive course. As it has turned out, the American
people have attained their great object, an Isth
mian Canal, in the time which would, under a less

THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 275
virile Executive, have been consumed in wrangling
over preliminaries.
The talk about Roosevelt's imperialistic ten
dencies is mere rival party babble of discontent.
It is the same that people indulged in concerning
Andrew Jackson, and Lincoln, and Grant. Some
of it springs from the eternal jealousy of the Op
position, some of it from timid natures who are
always alarmed at the way in which bold natures
accomplish things in a direct, aggressive way.
But there never was a more thorough-paced
democrat than Roosevelt. The secret of his
strength with the people is that he is so democratic
and such a believer in popular rights. No man
in America would be more fierce or aggressive
than Roosevelt against an attempt by anybody
against popular liberty. But he believes that
popular liberty is not synonymous with delay and
doubt and endless quibbling, and that the people's
servants ought to do the people's will promptly and
thoroughly, and not crawl up to and wriggle around
and climb over or scratch under new questions
which arise and must arise in every govemment
like ours. His fearlessness in grappling with and
disposing of new questions, and his relying upon
the people to endorse him, instead of keeping such
questions open until they fester, is one great secret
of his popular strength, and the masses have
faith unshaken in his true American democratic
instincts and purposes.

2 76 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS
No man has ever left the Presidential chair so
young and still so full of the thirst for life's activi
ties as he will be when his term ends. It is
food for curious speculation to endeavour to
forecast his future after his term shall have ended.
Nothing political remains to be achieved by
him. What else will he attempt ? Nobody knows.
But in America there is always something for
everybody to do or to attempt.
Knowing Roosevelt well, having studied him
carefully, having oftentimes been startled and
sometimes irritated by him, yet respecting him
always and having faith in his true democracy ;
finally, admiring him sincerely, and being deeply
attached to him for his fidelity and fearlessness,
my feeling for him is as near to love as one man
should have for another, and my faith in his
future is unbounded, because I know he is that
"noblest work of God — an honest man.' '

INDEX

Acquia Creek, (Va.), 60.
Adams, John J., 156, 157.
Adjutant-General's office, ori
gin of conflicts with Comdg-
General, 88.
African Slave Trade, efforts to
suppress the, 21.
Age of a Boy, how computed,
Alger, Gen. Russell A., 201,
202, 227, 228, 229.
"Aliunde Joe," 135.
Allison, Senator, 218.
Anderson, Col. Archer, 89.
Argument, the Southern, about
disunion, 6g, 70.
Aristocracy," the, hateful to
Andrew Johnson, loi.
Arthur, Chester A., while Gar
field was dying, 150; picture
154; loyalty to party friends,
159, 162; contempt for scala
wags, 162, 163; wordly know
ledge and savoir faire, 163,
164; his dinners, 164; true
hospitality, 164, 165; dis
appointment at not being
renominated and death, 167;
always a gentleman, 167.
Atherton, of N. H., friend of
Pierce, 39.
Attorney-General, some talk
about, 223.

Barnes, Wm., (N. Y.), 222.
Benedict, E. C, 187.
Benton, Miss, Mrs. Fremont,
^55-Bell, John, of Tennessee, 102.
Binney, Horace, 10, 21.
Bisseil, Postmaster-General,
177, 179, 183.
Blackburn, Joe, (Kentucky),
Blaine, James G., 165, 166.
167, 201, 203, 204.
Bland, R. P., (Missouri), 156.
Bliss, Cornehus N., 222.
Blues, Richmond Light In
fantry, 140.
Boggs, Major Francis J., 86.
Bond, Judge Hugh L., 120, 122
Botts, Jno. Minor, 17.
Bowen, Henry, (Va.), 158.
Bragg, General Braxton, 88, 89.
Brazilian Mission to Wise, 21.
Breckenridge, Clifton, 156.
Breckenridge, John C, 54, 55,
Bright, of Indiana, 40.
Brookfield, Wm., 222.
Brown, John, 70.
Brunswick Hotel, (N. Y.), 243.
Bryan, Wm. Jennings, 219,220.
Buchanan, James, 36, 52, 64.
"Buck & Breck," 55.
Bullock, Colonel, 243.
Butler, of N. Y., 36.
Butler, B. F., 189.

Baltimore, 60.
Barbour, John S., (Va.), 156,
159-

Cabell, Geo., 156, 159.
Cadwalader, Gen, John, 40.
Cadwalader, Jno. L., 221.
Campaign of 1832 10, 11, 12.

278

INDEX— Continued

Campaign of 1856, 54.
Camp Lee, 85.
Cannon, "Uncle" Joe, 157.
Capes of Virginia, 3.
Carhsle, Hon. Jno. G., 155.
Cartoons, political, in cam
paigns, 54.
Carroll, Howard, 222.
Cass, Lewis, 40.
Charles City Co., (Va.), 27, 28.
Chase, Salmon P., 70.
Cherrystone (Va.), 3.
Chesapeake Bay, 3.
Chickahominy, the, 76, 77.
Civil Service discussion, 246.
Clay, Henry, 8, 9, 10, 11, 16,
19, 102, 256.
Clay, Mrs. C. C, 49.
Cleveland, Grover, picture, 170;
election, 171; we get acquain
ted, 172, 173; a love feast,
173; the deaf mute, 173, 182;
as a companion and sports
man, 186; the man as he is,
187, 190.
Clifford, of Maine, friend of
Pierce, 39.
Clover Depot, (Va.), 89.
Coalition of 1840, what, 7, 8.
Cold Harbor, 85.
Collis, Gen. C. H. T., 222.
Colored defection from Sher
man, 202.
Columbia, frigate, 43.
Commanding-General and Ad
jutant-General's office, origin
of controversy between, 88.
Conestogo, Valley of, 58.
Congressional meanness to Ty
ler, 23.
Congressman, 155.
Conkling, Roscoe, 146.
Conrad, Holmes, 184.
Constitution, The, 42, 43.
Corbin, Gen. Henry C, 89.

Corporal Billy Gilliam's fun
eral, 187.
"Corporal's Guard," 18.
Corps of Cadets, V. M. I., 84.
Cox, Sunset, 156.
Crazy Quilt, 218.
Crook, Col. Wm. H., 141.
Cruger, S. V. R., 222.
Cuba, 249.
Curtin, Gov. A. G., Penn., 156.
Curtis, Geo. William, 166, 167.
Cushing, Caleb, 38, 39, 40.

Dalziel, Mr., 242.
Danville, (Va.), 86, 90.
Davis, Jefferson, 40, 68, 74, 75,
79, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91,
94,95,96.
Davis, Mis. Jefferson, 94, 95.
Davis, John B's. bull, 183.
Day, Wm. R., 214.
Dayton, candidate for Vice-
President 1856, 54.
Deaf-mute postmaster, 174.
Democrats rejoice at Tyler's
troubles, 18.
Democratic majority in 48th
Congress, 155.
Dents, The, 124.
Depew, Chauncey M., 173.
Dickinson, of N, Y., aspirant
for President 1852, 36, 40.
Dissolution of Union, first heard
of, 43-
Dockery, of Mo., 156
Donaldson, A. J., 54, 56.
Donner, J. O., 242.
Douglas, Hugh, Andrew John
son's friend, 105, 107, 109.
Douglas, Stephen A. 40, 224.
Down-town Club, 243.
Drayton, Coleman, 242.
Drill-master, 86.

INDEX— Continued

279

Elberon, where Garfield died,
148.
Electoral commission an un
fortunate device, 135.
Elliot, Mortimer F., 156, 157.
Evarts, Wm. M., 140.

Farmville, (Va.), 90.
Federal Democrat, Andrew
Jackson, 103.
Fillmore, Millard, 54, 55, 256.
Fish, James D., 123.
Fisherman's Inlet, 3.
Fishing trips, 3.
Fitz, John Porter, 77, 215.
Flag, American, copied from
Dutch, 262.
Florence, Wm. J., 221.
Floyd, Gen. Jno. B., 2.
Food Scarce, drink a plenty at
White House, 25, 26.
Foraker, J. B., 171, 204, 222.
Fortress Monroe, 4, 91.
"Four Hundred " — How we
served them, 243.
"Frank Pierce will spread
durned thin," 48.
Fremont, Gen. Jno. C, 54.
French, clerk. House of Reps.,
French mission, 21.
French, Steve, 150.
Fry, Col. Horace B., 150.

" Gallant Harry of the West, "
II.
Gardner, beautiful Julia, Mrs.
Tyler, 21, 22.
Garfield, James A., picture,
144; appearance, 145, 146;

row with Conkling, 146; cod
dling political enemies, 146;
queer stories about him, 147;
assassination, 148; dying
scenes at Elberon, 148 to 151.
Garfield, Mrs., 22.
Garfield row — none for Mc
Kinley, 225.
Gamett, Dr. A. Y. P., 45, 46,
47, 89.
Garrison, George T. (Va.), 156,
158, 159-
General Staff, why formed, 88.
Gentleman, what constitutes
one in America, a question,
167.
George, Col. P. R., President
Pierce's friend, 35, 39, 41.
Gilmer, Secretary, killed, 22.
Glad I sided with the South,
72, 73-
Goff, Nathan, 157, 223, 224.
Gracie, Mr. Archibald, 243.
Gracie, General, 243.
Grant, George De Forest, 242.
Grant, Gen. Fred Dent, 124,
245.
Grant, Gen. U. S., picture, 114;
referred to, 84; first meeting,
115; very democratic man
ners, 116; very inquisitive,
116; the distillery case, 112;
Grant and Ward, 122; my
father and Grant, 123, 124;
on Confederate leaders, 125;
changes in his fortune, 126-
7-8; feeling to Confederates
128, 129, 275.
Grant, Mrs. Gen. U. S., 123;
124.
Gray, Judge, 122.
Greeley, Horace, 70, 95.
Greenville, Tennessee, 105.
Gresham, Walter Q., 201, 203,
204.

28o

INDEX— Continued

H
Hamilton, Robt. Ray, 243.
Hampton (Va.), 4, 5.
Hanna, Mark, 256, 257, 258.
Hanover Junction, 85.
Hardee, General, 88.
Harris, Mr., of Va., 36, 39.
Harrison's Landing, 94.
Harrison, Burton, N., 79.
Harrisons, the Virginia, 195,
196, 197.
Harrison, Benjamin, 171, 173,
174; picture, 194; first ac
quaintance, 195; some Har
rison traits, 196; his antece
dents and appearance, 197-8;
peculiarities, 198, 191; how
nominated, 204; appreciation,
205, 206; visit to his home and
how he carved turkey, 206;
sends my boy to West Point,
206, 207; Mrs. Harrison's
death, 207, 208.
Harrison, Russell, 244.
Harrison, Gen. Wm. H., 7, 8, 9,
II, 12, 14, 15, 16, 18, 256.
"Hasty plate of soup," Gen
eral Scotts', 42.
Hatch, Wm. H., Missouri, 156.
Havre, de Grace, 59,117.
Hay, John, 261.
Hays, Gen. "Billy," of the 100
guns, 92, 93, 94.
Hayes, President R. B.; pic
ture, 132, 133, 136, 137; Mrs.
Hayes, 138, 139; Webb Hayes
"Head Captain Tyler or die,"
John Minor Botts, 17.
Heckscher, John, 242.
Heintzelman, General, 77.
Henderson, David B., 157.
Hepburn, W. P., 157.
Herbert, Hilary A., 156.

Herrick, Myron, T., 221.
Hewitt, Abram S., 156.
Higgins, Anthony, 242.
Higgins, Jno. C, 242.
High Bridge, Va., 86.
Hiscock, Frank, 157.
Hobart, Garret A., 222.
Holman, of Ind., 156.
Hood, Gen. Jno. B., 87.
Hooper, Benj. S., 158.
Hopkins, Capt. Stephen, 42.
How McKinley became a ma
son, 215.
Hoyt, Jas. H., 221.
Huger, Gen. B., 76.
Hughes, Judge Robt. W., 119,
120.
Hunter, R. M. T., 40.
Hygeia Hotel, 4.

IngersoU's blunder, 203.
IngersoU, Col. Robt. G., 189,
202.
Irving, Henry, 220, 221.

Jackson, Andrew, 18, 102, 103,
275-
Jackson, Stonewall, 79, 84.
James River, 4.
Jamestown, 5, 182.
Jefferson, Jos., 220.
Jim the butler, 3.
Johnson, Andrew, picture, loo;
his career, loi, 102; social
conditions in Tennessee, 104.
struggles upward, 105, 107;
how Southerners regarded
him, 107-8; at my wedding,
109-110; his compliments to
my father, no; his habits,
257, 260.

INDEX— Continued

281

Johnston, Gen. Joseph E., 76,
87, I25-
Jones, Congressman, 178 179,
184, 185.
Judas Iscariot Tyler, 1 6.
K
Kean, John, 157.
Kelley, Wm. D. (Pig-Iron), 158.
Keyes, P. M., Genl., 137, 140.
Kickotan, Indian name for
Hampton, 5.
King, vice-president, 42.
Know-nothings, 56, 94, no.
Kohlsaat. Mr., 222.

La Guasemas, jolted hard at,
2+9-
Lally, Major, President Pierce's
friend, 37.
Lamb, Jno., of Indiana, 156.
Lane, Miss Harriet, 58, 59.
Lee, Gen. Fitzhugh, 243.
Lee, Genl. Robt. E., 82, 87, 88
90, 125, 270.
Lewis, L. S., 119.
Lexington, (Va.), 84.
Libbey, Harry, (Va.), 158.
Lincoln, Abraham, 67, 68, 88,
101,257,273.
Livingston, Carroll, 243.
"Lions of the 40's falling
asleep," 31.
Lomax, Col., Tenant, 76.
Lodge, Henry Cabot, 166, 167.
"Looseanner wuz fur Blaine,
but," 204.
Long Branch, 115, 148, 150.
Long, John D., 247.
Longstreet, Genl. James, 82,
243-
Lorillard, Pierre, 242.
Lyons, Hon. James, 96.
Lyons, James, Jr., 148.

M
Mackay, Jno. W., 173, 220.
Mails, how transported in 50's,
42.
Malvern Hill, 94.
Manassas, battle of, meeting
between Mr. Davis and Gen
eral Jackson, 79, 84.
Marcy, Wm. L., 36, 40.
Martin, Mr., of Va., 36.
Mason, James M., 36.
Masonry in war times, 215,
216.
Mason, Jno. Y., 23, 58.
Mattoax, Va., 86.
Maxwell, Assistant Postmaster-
General, 177, 178.
Mayo, Col. Robt., 158.
Mechanicsville, Va., 77.
Mecklenburg Resolutions, 262.
Methods of travel in 1856, 159.
Miles, Gen. Nelson A., 89.
Mills, Rogers Q. (Texas), 156.
Montague, Governor, 268.
Montauk Point, 252.
Morrison, Wm. R., 155.
Morton, Levi P., 221.
More cannon than men, 86.
Mosby, John S., 129.
Munn, H. N., 242.
Munn, O. D., 221.
McAdoo, Wm., 157.
McClellan, Genl. Geo. B., 76.
McComas, of Maryland, 158.
McElroys, the, 164.
McGuire, Dr. Hunter, 79-84.
McMillan, Benton, 156.
McKinley, Wm., 157, 190, 201;
picture, 212; first met, 213;
his friend Schaefer, 214;
Wm. R. Day — how he be
came a mason, 216; peace
maker, 216; turned out, 217;

282

INDEX— Continued

McKinley, Wm., — Continued.
joke on him, 217; eavesdrop
pers, 219; as an orator, 219;
in New York, 220; a memo-
orable supper, 220; nomina
tion, 222; visit to him and
the gold plank, 222; Mrs.
McKinley, 224; Piatt's sup
port, 226; McKinley's weak
points, 228, 229; kindness
and amiability, 230; Bluff
Point, 231; death, 233, 255,
256, 272. N
Nashville (Tenn.), 106.
Nat. Rep. Convention, 1884,
166.
Nat. Rep. Convention, 1888,
201, 218.
Nat. Rep. Convention, 1896,
222.
Nat. Rep. Convention, 1900,
^ 255.
Navy, Asst.-Secy. Roosevelt,
247.
Nelson, Knute, 157.
New Market, 84.
Newport News, 4.
New York, 122, 172, 206, 241,
250, 251.
Norfolk, 4, 76.
Northampton Co. (Va.), 3.
North Anna River, 85.

Oates, Wm. C. (Ala.), 156.
Obsession and possession, 68.
Ochiltree, Tom, 158, 173, 220.
"O. D.," 183.
O'Ferrall, Chas. T., 156, 158,
^159-.Offensive partisan, 183.
Ogden, Robt. C, 267, 268, 269.

"Old Fuss-and-feathers," 42.
Old Point, 4, 91.
Overseer of roads, Mr. Tyler,
27.

Packer, Wm. F., 43.
Panama Revolutionary Govt.,
274.
Parker, Judge Richard, 215.
Paul, Jno., 158.
Payne, Sereno, 158.
Peace-maker, the bursting of,
21.
Peachy, Wm. S., 12, 13, 15, 16,
23, 24-
Peninsula between York and
James, 4, 76.
Pennsylvania, when she was
democratic, 53.
Perryville, 60.
Phelps, Wm. Walter, 158.
Philadelphia, 8, 9, 10, 11, 20, 28,
29,30,59,59,61, 115-
Philadelphia lavsryer, 10.
Phoebus, 4.
Phcebus, Hotel 91.
Phoebus, Harrison, 91, 92.
Pierce, Franklin, 34, 35, 49.
Piatt, Thos. C, 146, 221, 223.
225, 227.
Police Board Rows, 245.
Polk, James K., 21.
Porter, Gen. Horace, 220.
Possession and Obsession, 68.
Postmaster, a deaf mute, 174.
Presidents, list of, and dates,
and preface, v, vi, vii.
Princeton, frigate, 21.
Proctor, Redfield, 204.
Pryor, Roger A., 173.
Putman, Judge, 47.
Q
Quay, Mat, 218.

INDEX— Continued

283

Railroads, none about Old
Point in 50's, 4.
Randall, Josiah, 157.
Randall, Saml. J., 155, 157.
Randolph, Genl. Wallace F.,
92, 93- ,
Ranney, A. A., 158.
Ray, Geo. W., 158.
Raymond, Chas. H., 242.
Reagan, Jno. H., Texas, 156.
Rebel, no apologies, 73.
Reed, Thos. B., (Maine), 157.
Renchor, Abram., 40.
Rice, Gov. W. W. (Mass.),
158.
Richmond, a hotbed of Know-
nothings, 56.
Richmond & Danville R. R.
defences, 86.
"RoUeston," 75.
Rosecrans, General, 156.
Rough-riders formed, 248.
Root, Elihu, 220, 232, 260.
Roosevelt, Elliott, 241,243,244.
Roosevelt, Robert, 241.
Roosevelt, Theodore, 103, 166,
167,171,237,276.

"Safe m the Arms of Jesus,"
Garfields' requiem, 151.
Sailor's Creek, 90.
San Antonio, Rough-riders at,
249.
Santiago, 250.
Schaefer, Louis, 213.
Scott, Gen. Winfield, 41, 88.
Scott, Rev. Dr., President
Harrison's father-in-law, 195.
Seigel, Gen. Franz, 844.
Sergeant, John, 8, 9, 10, 11, 20,
28, 29, 30, 53, 157.
Sergeant, John, Jr., 157.

Sergeant, Wm., 53, 59, 61, 157.
Seven Pines, 75.
Seward, Wm. H., 70.
Shafter, General, 251.
Sherman, John, 140, 201, 202.
Sherman Gen. Wm. T., 88, 173.
Sherwood Forest, 27.
Siboney, 250.
Slavery, the feeling about it in
the South, 69, 70.
Sleeping cars not known, 60.
Slocum, Gen. H. W., 156.
Smith, Elliott, 242.
Smith, John, 5.
Snipe-shooting for Cleveland,
181.
Soldiers Home, (Hampton), 4.
Soldiers Home, (Washington),
137-
Sorrel, Gen. G. M.., 243, 244.
"Sorter so and sorter not so,"
64..
"Spoils system," 7.
Spottsylvania to Cold Harbor,
85-
Springer, Wm. M., III., 156.
Staunton River, Va., 86.
Stoker, Bram. 220.
St. Louis, Convention, (1896),
222. Stonewall Jackson, 80.
Stonewall, Division, 85.
Strawberry Hill, 77, 78.
Supreme Court, 20, 21, 135.
Susquehanna River, 59.
Sutheriin, Maj. Wm. T., 89.

Taft, Wm. H., 261; talks poli
tics too much, 183.
Tampa, Rough-riders at, 249.
Taylor, Gen. Zachary, 88.
Third Alabama Regiment, 75.
76, 77-

284

INDEX— Continued

Thompson, Miss, friend of
Pierce, 39.
Thompson, Richd., of Indiana,
218.
Tilden, Samuel J., 134, 135.
"Tippecanoe and Tyler too,"
"To the victors belong the
spoils," 17.
Too late for promotion, 95.
Tucker, Rev.'s, joke, 224.
Tucker, Jno. Randolph, 156.
159-
Tucker, H. St. George, 184.
Turner, J. Marshall, 177-184.
Turner, of Georgia, 217.
Tyler, John, 2-32, 256.
Tyler, Mrs., 21, 22, 31.
u
Union of the Whigs for the sake
of the Union, 8, 9.
Upshur, Abel P., secretary,
killed, 21, 22.
U. S. flag, an old frifend, 43.
Underwood, Judge J. C, 118.
U. S. Atty. in Va., 155.
U. S. Atty. in N. Y., 224, 225.
Union League Club, Chicago,
219.
U. S. Mil. Academy, 207.

Van Burenism, 7, 9, 17.
Virginia thoroughbred speech,
205.
Virginia Mil. Ins., 84.
Visit to President Buchanan,
59, 60.
Vroom, Hon. Peter D., 580

W
Wade, Ben., 70.
Walker, Gen. R. L., 78.
Walkerton, Va., 174, 181.
Wallace, McKinley opponent,
157-
Ward, Ferdinand, 123.
Washburn, W. D., 158.
Washington, Booker, 265.
Washington, D. C, 13, 45, 46,
47, 60.
Webb, Seward, 242.
Webb, H. Walter, 242.
Westminster K. Club, 241.
West Point and West Pointers,
88, 207, 246.
"Wheatland," Mr. Buchanan's
home, 56,57.
Wheeler, Clint, 150.
Wheeler, General Joe, 156,
250.
Whigs, 7, 8, g, II, 12, 102.
White House dinners, 24.
Williamsburg, (Va.), 12, 13, 14.
Wilmington, (Del.), 42, 115.
Wilson, James, (Iowa), 157.
Wilson, Wm. L. (W. Va.)
Winchester, (Va.), 215.
Wine, a plenty, food scarce, 26.
Wise, Geo. D., 146, 156, 159.
Wise, Henry A., 1-3, 4, 5, 6, 7,
8, 9, 18,19,20,21,28,29,30,
35, 43, 44, 53, 5^, 63, no,
111,123,124,213.
Wise, Hugh D., 93, 124, 206,
231, 232, 251.
Wise, O. Jennings, 44, 58.
Wise, J. S., 155, 158, 164.

Young, John Russell, 172.
York River, 4.
Youthful impressions of Mr.
Tyler, 3. |

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